#oc creations

[starryybrained]

Whumptober Day 20: “It’s not your fault”

It isn’t his fault. This had to happen.

The world twists and bends, and the feeling of his hands on the lab coat are so solid and firm, and then nothing as the scientist’s body parts from his fingers, the contact so short, so fleeting —

Me or him.

[novemberhope]

Currently vibing with Argent Gin for Lady Y because idk it just popped into my mind and Argent means silver and Gin apparently is silver in japanese and then she can be called Ginny... the common long names for Ginny kinda don't vibe with One Piece I think. Let's see if this is just a sorta vibe right now or if it will stay.

Still no clue about Lady X though.

Fun Fact, the last name came to me in the bathroom and her full story also came to me in the bathroom a few days ago. I definitely should spend more time in the bathroom.

[ejgto]

[kyseya]

The creation

Imagine being the daughter of a wealthy family in the 1800s. Life was strict for you. You didn’t have much freedom and your only goal in life is to become a perfect wife. Your salvation was your brother. He stood up against your parents and helped you when no one else would. Without him you’d be even more lost.

Your brother is a genius. It seems like there is nothing he can’t do. Apart from creating life, that is. You love your brother so much, but there is a side to him you wished he could just abandon. Your whole life you’ve known him and during all that time he’s been obsessing over the topic of ‘life’ in all its forms.

He wants to uncover all its secrets and unlock the ultimate knowledge; to the point of sacrificing himself. That is how obsessed he is. You thought this research would be his downfall. But one day he did it, he created life!

Yandere! Creation who knows how hideous he is. It was no secret after all; both his creation and his scarring appearance. It was not pleasing to the eye. He wished he could forget about it and go on about his day, but it is hard when your creator reminds you every now and then.

Yandere! Creation who was introduced to you one day. His master made it a point to treat you with outmost care and respect, he would not tolerate any other behaviour. He didn’t want to face any punishment so he agreed.

Yandere! Creation who, at first, only treated you well because that was his instructions. But after getting to know you, he realised you deserved every bit of good in the world. You were so bright, almost like the sun itself(the one he wasn’t allowed to see). You were so kind to him. You spoke gently to him and never raised your voice, even during the moments where he did mess up. His master was never outright cruel, but he certainly wasn’t the warmest person. He looked at him like the creation he was. He was not a friend, not a family member, and he would never be.

You were the only one who acted as if he was a real person. You gave him the warmth he sought after but could receive. If he felt sad about his existence, you were there and let him use your as a pillow to cry on. You would hold him and softly comfort him. Not only that, you fought with your brother for his freedom. He didn’t deserve to be contained like some infectious desease.

Yandere! Creation who couldn’t help but fall for you. You didn’t act as if he was a monster, a creature, a being. He felt like a person whenever he was with you. He didn’t have to remember that he’s just parts stitched together into a horrid being.

Yandere! Creation who does everything to be able to spend more time with you. He is far from stupid and he knows how to manipulate situations in his favour. To be honest, he is a bit surprised how many of his antics flies under the radar of his master. The so-called genius might not be the smartest after all.

He loves using his super strength to assist you with different chores. Need someone to accompany you to the market? He’s on it! He’ll carry the stuff for you and fend off any unwanted attention. The men in the village are nothing short of pigs, so you should have someone protecting you. Can’t reach the high shelf? He’ll take down anything you can’t reach. There is no reason for you to strain yourself.

Yandere! Creation who wonders if you’d be happy being his wife?

[yourocdoeswhat]

Describe your OC's worst memory or experience in three words or less.

[za0mbie]

I dont know a handful of things

[mistfallengw2]

OC's Background Relationships Ask Game

Send an ask with OC + emoji (or the corresponding text), get a short ramble about the relationship of that OC with the corresponding side/background characters!

🎲 - Biological parents

👑 - Person who raised your OC and/or was important during their formative years

❓ - Estranged family/relatives they've never met

📎 - Siblings/close family

✨ - Children (current or future)

💎 - Chosen family (including warband)

🧸 - Childhood friends

🏆 - Best friends (past, current or future)

💌 - First crush/love

💋 - First kiss

🌹 - First relationship

🌶️ - First intimacy

💍 - Partners (current or future)

💔 - Exes

🍑 - Notable flings

✏️ - Classmates (including other cubs at the fahrar for charr)

⚙️ - Coworkers/boss (krewe/other charr outside of warband)

🐾 - Pets

🔪 - Enemy/nemesis

💢 - Person they can't stand

⚰️ - Someone they lost (not necessarily dead)

🩹 - Someone who was a source of trauma

🗑️ - "It's complicated"

©️ - Bonus: Canon NPC important to them

[Note: doesn't have to be in-depth, and if something is not applicable to an OC, you get to reroll!]

[ozzgin]

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

[starryybrained]

Unaware

Whumptober Day 19: One way out

Masterlist

Content: Lab whump, sedated/unconscious whumpee, explicit surgical procedure, vivisection, noncon body modification, stripping whumpee while unconscious, nonsexual nudity, noncon touch, dehumanization, scientifically inaccurate/fantastical medical procedure

As Saul lays unconscious with the beeping of monitors and the hum of the surgical equipment surrounding him, the world grows small and sharp, focused. The environment becomes so much more productive than before. More streamlined. No longer is there a man before Dr. Greyson, but a living thing that looks like one, has the anatomy of one, breathes and has a pulse just like one. A subject.

Mechanical arms power on at her command, precise and ready to cut him apart, expose his insides, slimy and inky-blue.

Dr. Greyson readies a video feed to archive footage of the surgery, making sure the angle is perfect, the image crystal-clear.

Screens surround her with different images and graphs, vitals and data that will supplement her work, all glowing brilliantly blue, illuminating her and her subject with their icy glow.

There’s only one way out now. Only one way he’ll get out of here alive. An objective not even he is aware of.

Survive the surgery.

Dr. Greyson cuts away his uniform first. Her silvery scissors glint as she does, the motion swift and familiar, knowing. She drags away the unwanted fabric, discarding it. It will be sanitized and recycled later. (After all, nothing here should go to waste.)

She barely blinks at his naked body before her, not even giving it a second thought. It’s all flesh and blood, bones and organs to her, the content of anatomy textbooks.

Machines ready, she starts up the vivisection process, typing in a quick keyword to initiate it. The mechanical arms whirr and click ever so slightly as they move into position, barely audible, and a scan runs over his body, mapping out where to make incisions, a half-second flash of glimmering blue light that disappears as quickly as it made its presence known, passing over his body.

One arm lasers away his body hair until his skin is bare and smooth where they need to make the cuts, another changes its tip to a blade as it does, beginning to slice the skin after the other arm finishes.

The blade goes into his flesh easily, and blue wells up where it touches, creating a dark, shiny line across his chest and stomach. An additional set of arms help pry apart his skin as the knife cuts deeper, plunging through the layers of fat and skin.

Once it’s finished, one pins the skin back into place, leaving the ribs and his organs exposed. The scene is slightly lewd, wet and fleshy and slightly pulsing like insides usually do… and he’s all exposed and left so vulnerably open — however Valeria and her machines handle it with the unflinching accuracy and coldness only a Rigorian surgeon or their tech could have.

He doesn’t even stir, his only movements are the involuntary ones laid out for all to see. His hearts beating. His lungs shrinking and growing with every breath. The swell of his stomach following each inhale. All measured and recorded for posterity.

Dr. Greyson changes the machines’ procedures to a more custom set, the one made specifically for her experiments, and the machines follow her commands fluidly, transitioning into the experimental procedure without so much as a hiccup.

With a click, three of the arms change their tips to nozzles, panels in their sides opening to reveal empty glass tubes. Dr. Greyson fetches the vials with the specimen inside and loads the panels up. They click shut automatically after she does, stationary until each is filled, and then they return to working on him.

As they position themselves where they ought to be (his heart and on either side of his lungs), Dr. Greyson checks her subject’s vitals.

Stable…

Wonderful.

She watches closely as they pump his body full of the specimen, making sure it stays confined to his innards.

It should be fine, considering the modifications the biotechnologists have made to the specimen’s mental faculties and biological processes. Once it bonds with her subject’s tissue, it shouldn’t be able to rid itself of him — and vice versa.

It merges quite well, melting into his chest, squirming between his ribs and seeping into his serosa, making itself right at home. The screens before her show the very percentage of their coalescence, the number slowly creeping towards 100%.

It finally reaches completion, and the only change is the stained appearance of his internal organs, the slimy, desaturated blacks and greys clinging to his insides.

Good. The operation is now two-thirds of the way through.

Dr. Greyson manually moves the pumps away from his chest and torso, now-empty, dripping with remnants of the black goo. The tips recede back into the arms, self-cleaning – Valeria taps in the code for them to start sealing Saul’s body up, idly monitoring the machines, relaying her observations onto a screen. Her notes glow, reflecting against the surface of her glasses while the machines do their work, sealing his body up. 

He shouldn’t have so much as a scar left afterwards.

… Shouldn’t have.

The skin parts after it’s sealed. The specimen’s ooze leaks through the cracks as the skin parts, resisting the seal.

Dr. Greyson’s gaze hardens. Fuck. She’ll have to take this at a different angle.

Instead of beating a dead horse, she decides to go in herself, readying her tools to stitch him up.

The needle and thread go in easily, and come out caked in slime, filthy. The synthetic thread holds together though, and soon Dr. Greyson is able to tie it off, manually cleaning and disinfecting the area.

As she does, the skin on his chest darkens, turning dark and muck-colored. When she touches it, it gives, softer than skin normally should be.

She’s so glad she’s recording this.

Verbally putting down her notes, she probes his body, examining him.

“Subject continues to be stable after needing stitches. The self-administered mastectomy scarring is unaffected by leakage. Subject’s body and internal organs are considerably discolored. Subject’s skin in the thorax area –” she gives his chest another press, testing how much give it has, pulling her hands away when it dips under her touch like slime – “has a considerable amount of give.” She presses again, making sure she can feel his bones. “Ribcage is intact, however.”

“Specimen seems to have integrated with no offensive side effects. Subject remains unconscious.”

She disposes of her dirty gloves and snaps on new ones the moment her hands are bare.

“The surgery appears to be a success… I am entering the subject into the recovery phase now.”

He made it.

[stayatsam]

The Death god's wayward son (OC, he/him)

[novemberhope]

the basics:

name: Kaito Niara age: eighteen years old zodiac sign: cancer. one good trait very optimistic one bad trait: easily distracted

habits:

one bad habit: talks too much and doesn't always watch what she's saying. one good habit: :always ready to cheer the others up if they're feeling down one habit they can’t break: she always makes a fool of herself when she crushes on a guy (you're her type if you're cute, dark-haired and have dark eyes...) one they’ve broken: she grew out of giggling so much when she got older what they’re afraid of: losing her freedom

family:

their parents names: Kaito Takeru (father, marine Admiral), Kaito Miho (mother, former 2nd Lieutnant) their siblings names: Soshi, Hina, Yuki (all hold various naval ranks) favorite childhood memory: long walks on the beach in the evening with her mother, before Miho got too sick to walk favorite childhood toy: her dolls, she took them to the beach and plate pirates vs marines with them embarrassing story: breaking her arm when she jumped from the shed pretending to be a pirate capturing one of her friends who was playing the role of scared civilian favorite family member: her late mother a story about that family member: when her mother got sick and Niara was the one caring for her, it got her out from under her father's strict rule of thumb. Her mother realized how different Niara was from the rest of her siblings and was the first and only family member to even consider Niara's life taking a different path. She even tried to intervene with her husband but he did not want to hear it. But Miho told Niara to never give up her dreams and to this day Niara is upholding this.

what they prefer:

coffee or tea?: coffee. showering in the day or night?: day. taking baths or taking showers?: baths. writing or reading?: writing. She's writing the ship's journals and she has a beautiful handwriting. platonic or romantic love?: both would be ideal, but she does have the tendency to have crushes... iced tea or lemonade?:lemonade ice cream or smoothies?: ice cream. cupcakes or cake?: cupcakes. beach or mountains?: beach.

favorites:

outfit: her favorite skirt and a tank top with ruffles and flower print and sandals place: the crow's nest, looking over the ocean, seemingly on top of the world (and then using one of her vines to swing herself down on deck) memory: first setting out to sea with Ace's first crew back in the day, finally being free person: Ace because that's how it started. [no, he's not going to be her love interest - but Marineford is still gonna hit hard!]

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[ejgto]

[spartanfoxart]

"Never lie to a professional liar."

Fun sort of pin-up art of my Chiss Imperial agent, Kir'av'saiow (Iravsa).

[yourocdoeswhat]

Hey, are you awake? Good! No, don't scream, I'm not going to hurt you. It's just I've got this convoluted story, setting, and cast of OC's in my head and I needed to talk to someone about it. I'll let you go when I'm done.

What? NO I can't just tell my friends. What if they think I'm annoying or my OCs are cringe? That's what you're here for.

Now, here are the picrews I have saved so you can get an idea of what my OC's look like. I have at least 57 of the same character, for each of the 23 in my story's main cast. So this whole thing started when I was in 6th grade-