#oc Annabell

[1000-niche-interests]

Raindrops on Roses

And now that we have that oc post here is a story because? I can. There are no roses in this story, but I had of “Favorite Things” from sound of music stuck in my head while I was writing it.

Annabell stood in the corner of the dimly lit chamber, watching from the shadows as the healer checked Sara’s breathing and pulse again, indifferent to how this mousy, red-haired woman looked back at Annabell every now and again, as if to check that the vampire wasn’t about to pounce. She much preferred the older man who had been in here earlier; he hadn’t been quite so jumpy. 

Not that it mattered. Anna had been here long enough to be used to wary stares of others, especially the ones not familiar with the Queen’s court. Not familiar with the fact that, while Annabell was not human, while she possessed magic enough to kill everyone in the kingdom and then some… she wouldn’t. Because there was only one person on this earth she cared enough about to kill for, and that person was currently laid up in bed with fever. Besides, Annabell was no human, but she was not a monster, either. (Despite what some of the nobles whispered behind her back.)

“Um,” The red head muttered into the quiet room, and Annabell’s head snapped up at once. The medic took a step back from Sara’s bedside in a respectful bow. “Her fever is down from what Healer Rodney said it was earlier, so I believe it should break tonight. That’s good.” The girl did not make eye contact with Annabell as she spoke, and the vampire did not expect it. She simply nodded, brisk, and waited for the girl to continue her report or to leave, as she clearly wished to.

“Apologies, sorceress.” The young woman bowed, again, this time more of a curtsy. “For my… hesitation.” 

It took Annabell a moment to figure out what she meant, until she realized the healer was referring to how she so clearly stammered over her words in fear, and some such. But Annabell only felt one thing right now, and that was concern for Sara, so she didn’t dismiss or accept the girl’s apology, merely sat down in the chair she’d pulled up to her queen’s bedside, and cupped her cheek to check her fever herself with a cold, pale hand. Though Annabell emitted no body heat, she could feel heat perfectly well, and agreed with the healer’s analysis. When she looked up again, the red haired woman was gone, as she’d expected. Fine.

Now that they were truly alone, Annabell focused on the bond between herself and Sara, crimson eyes glowing bright red as she placed her hand on Sara’s chest, just above her heart. She could hear her lover’s heartbeat, even and steady, but that was not her focus. She concentrated on the sound of rushing blood until it filled her ears, until it was all she could hear. Blood, like waves on the ocean. Plasma of life, heartbeats entwined together for eternity. A blood pact like theirs wasn’t common-- actually it was unheard of, between human and vampire-- but it allowed Annabell much.

As her hearing returned, her thoughts felt slow and sluggish, a chill having swept through her body like an icy gale. They were not her feelings, but Sara’s-- Annabell added another blanket to the two quilts already present, and tucked Sara in more until the feeling abated in her own body, replaced by a pleasant feeling of warmth. Annabell shook her head to clear it, then poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner. Sara would need that too, when she woke, likely dehydrated alongside exhausted. As the feeling of Sara’s ills cleared, Annabell took her seat again. They felt much of the other’s feelings through the pact; though by virtue of her magic, Annabell could sense more than Sara. It was useful, Annabell felt, to know what Sara needed even when she was asleep. When Annabell would otherwise be helpless to assist her. She saw her dreams, too, when she fell asleep, as Sara did her’s, though the queen reported it as never anything she could make out. Perhaps that was a lie, but Annabell could never tell. She, on the other hand, got dreams of family gatherings and sword training. And the moment of Sara’s father’s assassination, over and over again. Replayed. Annabell had never told her that, though.

She wondered what Sara was dreaming about now. She could probe, find out if she was in distress, but she tried not to invade the other woman’s privacy when she could help it. Besides, her expression was peaceful, even with her fever. Annabell suspected her sleep was peaceful, which lightened her worries a little.

With Sara comfortable for the moment, Annabell turned her senses to the room around her, the hallway, and the outside world, keeping alert. She knew there were guards all around in the castle, of course, but Sara’s safety was of the utmost importance here, as usual. The hallway sounded normal, and raindrops from the storm outside splattered against the windowpane like blind birds, heavy and thick. In the quiet abyss of the room, Sara’s breathing the only noticeable sound, Annabell sighed. The storm had been raging for days, and in fact getting caught out in it had been the reason Sara had fallen ill. Well-- the stress of running a kingdom also contributed, but it was the rain that had made the queen so violently cough and shiver, unable to find warmth no matter how Annabell bundled her up in blankets. Not even Annabell could offer help, emanating no heat to warm her. That always made her feel a tinge of sadness-- even though no heat could have warmed Sara after the storm anyway, Annabell knew well that touching her was like touching the shade itself. Cold, and never comforting. 

Ah, but now was not the time for her thoughts to take over. The wet cloth on Sara’s forehead had begun to dry, so Annabell wrung it out, wet in the basin, wrung it again, and returned it to its place with the efficiency of a surgeon. Annabell hoped Sara’s fever would break tonight, as the healer hypothesized… Sara had already been ill too long for the vampire’s comfort.

A groan-- no, barely even that, a murmur, really-- broke Annabell away from her worrying, and for a moment Annabell held her breath, a reflexive action she’d picked up and yet, never intended to actually do. She concentrated on the sounds, the symphony of Sara’s body, her heart and her brain, and she read the signs correctly; a moment later, Sara Penderghast’s eyes fluttered open, revealing glassy, tired blue eyes, nonetheless trained immediately on her.

“Anna,” Sara muttered, a smile at the edge of her lips. “Good… evening? Is it evening?”

“Just about.” Annabell replied, with a smile of her own, fangs momentarily flashing in her relief. Not that that mattered, in front of Sara. “How are you feeling?” She asked a moment later, having handed Sara the glass of water, from which she sipped, the flush in her face seeming to decrease somewhat.

“Tired. But… warm. Not too warm, just… good-warm.” Annabell smiled again. Her normally eloquent queen, reduced to a few broken sentences in her exhaustion. Well, as long as she was comfortable. 

“I made sure you had enough blankets,” Annabell replied, and Sara nodded against her pillows. “Thank you… but I’m sure it was awful to feel what I felt, sick like this. I’m sorry.” Ah, leave it up to her queen to apologize for what she couldn’t control.

“Darling, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.” The vampire assured her, and Sara nodded again, eyes closing after a moment. 

“Mm… the last time I was awake was morning and I know you didn’t sleep last night,” Sara said, voice slightly slurring now but still regal. “Lay with me. You should rest.” 

For a moment, Annabell considered reminding her that as a vampire, she didn’t need nearly as much rest as humans did and she could still remain awake for several days if necessary… but didn’t. Sara was giving her an option, and Annabell truly did desire to lay beside her, cool her fever, if she could. Still, she hesitated.

“You won’t be cold?”

At that, Sara gave a little laugh, one that sounded like music even when her voice was so raspy. 

“Oh, Anna, there’s more than enough blankets. I promise.” 

“Alright, you win.”

“I usually do.” Sara huffed in an appropriately queenly manner as Annabell slipped under the covers, and Sara nestled in close to her. The oppressive heat of the fever soaked deep into the vampire’s bones but didn’t bother her. 

Nothing mattered, as long as she could hold Sara here, warm and safe, for as long as her queen needed.

[vasira96]

lil OC update! you may know her by another name but please allow me to re-introduce you to my daughter, Isabelle

[applbottmjeens]

"It's not an act of love if you make her."

-Labor, Paris Paloma

The Queen of Hearts was born out of Phillip Graves' urge to squeeze out the potential out of what he saw as his prized possession. Holding the very wellbeing and safety of her son over her head, he'd coerce her back onto the field, back to being his soldier. Once untameable, now on a chain, the wildchild she was has been broken down to a piece on the chessboard that's as hard to control as it is powerful.

Regina Cordibus.

When you live for anyone but yourself, how much of you is left?

And how do you break free?

-

BIG BIG UPS TO @sleepyconfusedpotato OH MY GOD OH MY DAYS BEHOLD HER WORK IN ALL ITS GLORY.

[masculinemiracles]

The children yearn for the swamps

[brie-draws]

Valentines day gift for my darling, @chaicolaotte !!!! Our OCs, Bow and Annabelle!!!

[akidachi]

i have been rotating them around in my head for months

[tomfoolerytommytom]

I decided to draw Theo one more time just for those who found my account through the fandom and for the friends I made. I hope the rest of y’all stay safe and have a good one 🖤 To those who are still here for my original art or the fanart I’ve made for other fandoms, I’ve attached some more below :)))

Here’s the other stuff I promised, idk if I posted some of these already I have terrible memory😇

[chocofishy]

pathetic magicman summer

[neon-candies]

Eclipsis then promptly passed out on the first roller-coaster he went on before vomiting after. No worries. Annie and the gang settle for the kiddy rides so Eclipsis can still have fun. Rip when they go on the Ferris wheel and find out Bull had a previously unknown fear of heights.

Also due to one of the many injuries Eclipsis sustained from his siblings, his vocal cords were shredded so he uses his magic to speak. He has a few other injuries, but his missing arm and damaged vocal cords are the few major ones.

[shrimpbat]

well these guys are new

[dailynoodlezz24]

Quick Nevermore dump

Some ol wolf in sheeps clothing, Lenore style ykyk

Randoms dump:

Idek if I've posted some of these already, I havent been here for a while

[1000-niche-interests]

oops new ocs

Okay well they aren’t actually “new”, I’ve had these two kicking around in my brain for a couple years now but I felt that since there is now one (1) observer to this blog who’s interested, I might as well post about them! This serves as a more longform introductory oc post to these two lovely ladies, though I’ll also put the brief information on my regular OC post too. Anyway! Vampire and Warrior Queen OC Ladies beneath the cut:

Sara Penderghast, Warrior Queen of Kalin: (Yeah I bet you’ve never heard that very predictable cool surname before! It’s not creative but it is what stuck). 

Born to Marcus and Gertrude Penderghast (nee: Harte) Sara inherited the kingdom of Kalin at twelve years old, after her mother died in childbirth and her father was assassinated (something she witnessed, and it still haunts her). Being their only child, Sara had been taught, pretty much from the time she could walk, to rule the kingdom. She was polite, prim, proper, and refused to be manipulated by her advisors... especially her court mage (he’d been her parent’s court mage, and it was decided he shouldn’t be replaced because Sara was so young). Sara grew up ruling a kingdom that was torn; some loved her, the girl queen, some thought she needed to die as she refused to let anyone else take the reins behind the scenes. So it was no surprise that, when Sara was sixteen, there was an assassination attempt. Yet it was here that Sara, in a last ditch attempt to protect herself, emitted a blast of True Power. Magic, and unlike anything anyone had ever seen. She survived only with the intervention of her court mage, who cut off the surge of power before it consumed her entire life force. This was when Sara discovered she was a Living Rune-- a person naturally imbued with magic, who could direct magic both in and out of their body through special techniques, and surges of power like what she’d experienced.

Sara was determined to harness this power, use it as a strength rather than a weakness, and so at eighteen she commissioned the elven mage Articia to forge a glaive that would allow her to use her power in short burst; power could surge from her hands to the blade of the glaive. At around the same time, a war broke out between Kalin and a dangerous warlord. This is when the legend of the warrior queen was born, as Sara fought beside her soldiers against the invader. When the sadistic conqueror was defeated, the rules of warfare also meant they gained his prize…. A captive vampire, tortured, beaten, kept in silver chains and a silver cage, starved of blood.

Naturally, Sara’s advisors and generals were wary of such a creature, but Sara ordered the vampire taken back to the capital (in the cage, for safety) and then released. However, Sara’s court mage had other plans, and wanted to experiment on this vampire to learn what made them tick, since the species was so little known of them. When Sara refused to let him do that, the mage planned to assassinate Sara (because of course.)

The vampire learned of this (court mage loved to evil monologue, I suppose) and used quite a bit of strength to escape her cage, her chains; and arrive just in time to stop the assassination by running the court mage through with her claws…. and then sucking all his blood.

This vampire had no reason to care about humans, but she cared about Sara. Sara had tried to have her released from her prison; Sara treated her as something other than a monster. This vampire saved Sara, and, still in her debt, requested a Blood Pact with her-- a ritual that would bind the two of them with a simple drop of blood into a magic circle. Sara, to just about everyone’s surprise, was honored to do this. Yet a Blood Pact is more than just a ritual. It’s a form of intimacy unlike anything most humans will ever feel; it links the emotions, feelings, thoughts and minds. 

That was about the time the two started to fall in love. Was it because of the pact? Who can say. All that matters if that their love is real, and true... It was also at this point that the vampire, who had long forgotten her original name, was christened Annabell, and pledged to protect Sara and all of her line with her life by becoming her court sorceress, thanks to her magical ability. And while many are afraid Annabell for what she is, Sara just loves her. She always will. 

---

Annabell, Vampire: Annabell comes from the race of vampires, which once held a thriving civilization before humans came along. Now, thanks to the curse which makes them immortal and hunger for blood, vampires are seen as monsters. Annabell, to that end, may have skin as cold and as pale as death, she may have red eyes, sharp teeth, claws and immense strength, regenerative ability... but she is no monster. She feels just as humans do, feels pain and sadness and anger. And love. 

(The only difference between her and a human is, she can regrow a hand in five minutes and she feels like she’s burning alive in the sunlight. And she drinks blood. Not such a difference, no? Ha.)

The truth is that Annabell doesn’t remember much about her life, or unlife, before Sara freed her from her cage. Perhaps her memories are repressed, perhaps she has simply truly lost them. What she does know is that she would trade every memory in the world for another moment with Sara.  Sara gave her purpose, and she cares deeply about for her warrior queen and will protect her by any means she can, always caring for and about her, even to the detriment of herself. To Annabell, nothing matters but Sara. After all, she is immortal, and she has all the time in the world. Sara... isn’t, and doesn’t, but like all humans she tries her best to make her mark on the world anyway, and that’s what Anna loves about her... one of the many things.

(lol I promise Anna has a past I just don’t have it all detailed yet.... maybe someday I’ll get there)

Anyway.... those are my two ABSOLUTE favorite generic/original fantasy ocs. The art/meiker is done by aukanemin on meiker.io, check them out if you like meikers because I sure do. https://meiker.io/user/aukanemin/63436

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 1

A/N: New series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

This is an AU set in regency England where Elvis is a gentleman with a large estate. Also introducing a new OC: Annabelle Martin. I hope you love their story! It's a looooong one, so settle in, friends.

Warnings: NONE YET, this will get smutty (obvi, have ya met me?), but it'll be a slow burn with lots of tension, so no real warnings other than I guess the mention of parents dying

Word count: ~1.9k

Annabelle takes a deep breath and arranges herself to knock on the large servant's door at the back of the great house. This is to be her first day at her new place of employment and to say she is nervous would be an understatement. She has undergone training as a maid, but this is her first real job. Her hope was to be married to some sweet farm boy before she needed to use these skills, but the death of her mother two years ago and her father last month has resulted in her current predicament. She is an orphan of no consequence with no one left to look after her and no marriage prospects. Thankfully, her aunt, a barmaid at the inn with some hidden connection to the family, secured this position for her at Graceland Manor. The letter she has clutched in her fist states she should report directly to the master himself. This is certainly unique as it is typically the housekeeper who would have hired her, but her aunt's connection is to Colonel Presley himself and not the staff. This is beyond unique, but she has learned not to question affairs of the heart when they happen to other people.

She lifts her trembling hand and raps her knuckles on the door. Nothing happens immediately, so she waits a few seconds and knocks again. Finally, the door swings open and a handsome young footman with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes greets her. He manages his initial shock when he realizes how pretty she is, her dark hair curled perfectly and blue eyes rimmed with feathery black lashes. His smile is genuine as he opens his mouth to speak.

"May I help you, miss?"

"I am Annabelle Martin. I'm here to see Colonel Presley about a position as a maid." His smile falls and he looks down at his feet, clearing his throat.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, miss." Her heart flutters with nervousness. She has nowhere else to go.

"I must, sir. Please."

"As much as I would love to take you to him, Colonel Presley died a week ago." She swallows hard.

"He... died?"

"Unfortunately so. A fever took him swiftly in less than a fortnight." Annabelle searches her mind for her next step. If this does not work out, she will be on the streets.

"May I see the housekeeper?"

"Mrs. Davenport?"

"Yes, I suppose. Please." He can read the desperation in her face.

"Alright then, come along." She follows as he opens the door wider and beckons her inside. He leads her to a small office and introduces her to Mrs. Davenport. Rather than trying to explain herself, Annabelle thrusts the letter forward for her to read. She watches as the older lady's eyes skim the words.

"Report directly to Colonel Presley himself?! Where did you get this?"

"My aunt delivered it. She said it was from Colonel Presley and that I should bring it and arrive on this date. Is it not in his handwriting?" Mrs. Davenport raises her eyebrows.

"It is." Annabelle breathes shakily as she watches the housekeeper try to come to a decision about what to do. "I will have to take you to the young master. I cannot make this decision when it is so clear what his father wanted, though for what reason I cannot understand. Come."

With that, Mrs. Davenport walks hastily out of the room through the kitchen and up the back stairs to the main level of the house. Annabelle does her best to keep her mouth closed as she takes in the overt splendor of the rooms. She's never been in a place like this with so much to see in every corner. She's so busy taking in the walls and furniture that she doesn't notice him at first. In fact, she hears him before she sees him, his smooth baritone echoing in the great hall.

"My father wanted what exactly?" When she does finally turn to look at him, her eyes widen. If she thought the home was stunning, it is nothing compared to the undeniable beauty of the man himself. His dark hair is windswept and falls perfectly on his forehead, just above eyes of the deepest cerulean. He has the bone structure of a Greek statue with thick brown lashes and heart-shaped lips that could be made of storm clouds. Eventually it dawns on her that he's speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"What was it my father wanted with you?" He says it slowly like he thinks she might have difficulty comprehending.

"To offer me a position as a housemaid. He told my aunt there was an opening-"

"There is not. Not one that I am aware of. Molly and Sarah are still here?" He turns to the housekeeper and she responds affirmatively. "We have no need of you."

He turns dismissively, but Annabelle has no other option. She must appeal to him somehow.

"Please! Sir, I am an orphan. I have nowhere else to go." Initially, her impertinence catches him off guard, but when she mentions that her parents are dead, he turns back to her abruptly. He's all too familiar with that feeling now, his mother having died 25 years ago giving birth to him. His eyes rake over her face, seemingly searching for something.

"Fine. We will have a third maid. Give her the kitchen maid's room, since Mrs. Hall insists she doesn't need one." With that, he turns and walks from the room.

Mrs. Davenport turns back to Annabelle and huffs. It's clear she doesn't approve of the decision, but she cannot contradict the Master, even if he doesn't seem to know what he's doing in his new position. She begins the journey back down to the servants' quarters with Annabelle close behind her. When they reach their destination in the kitchen downstairs, she turns to Annabelle with her lips pursed.

"I suppose you have experience as a maid. Where else have you worked?" Annabelle swallows hard.

"No, ma'am. This is to be my first job."

"No experience?! How old are you?!"

"I'm 18, ma'am."

"How is this possible?"

"My father was a farmer. I worked with him there until he died last month. But I have trained." Mrs. Davenport scoffs. Just then, a young girl in a maid uniform with red hair and freckles bounces into the room.

"Molly! Come here and meet Annabelle, the new maid. You will be responsible for teaching her the role." Molly nods and walks over to Annabelle. She looks to be about fifteen.

"You haven't worked before?" Her eyes widen and Annabelle sighs.

"No, I haven't. But I'm a good worker. I'll learn quickly." Mrs. Davenport's eyes narrow.

"You had better. Now, go with Molly and put your things away. She will get you a uniform and you can begin after lunch." Annabelle nods and follows Molly up to the sleeping quarters, pausing at a closet to fetch two uniforms.

"Did she say which room will be yours? Surely she doesn't expect you to share with us." Molly says nervously.

"No, Mr. Presley said I should have the kitchen maid's room."

"You will have your own room?! Hm. I wonder what you've done to earn that privilege." Annabelle shrugs. She didn't choose this. Molly continues down the hallway to a room at the end of the corridor.

"This is you. We're right next door. And that-" she gestures to the door at the end of the hall next to Annabelle's door. "-leads to the house. It's locked from their side, so they can enter our quarters but we cannot go to theirs. Now put your things away, get changed, and come back down." Molly turns to walk away.

"Thank you." Annabelle calls out to her back. Molly nods curtly and takes off down the hallway again.

Annabelle goes into her room and begins to get settled. She looks around at the barren white walls, the simple frame bed, and small wardrobe. A sob threatens to choke her as she remembers her cozy little house on the farm with so many books and warm fires and comfortable furniture. She was only able to bring what she could carry in a small package, which means she had to leave all the books behind. Her heart aches thinking about them and the fact that she'll have nothing to read here. Perhaps she could ask Mr. Presley if she could use the library.

Mr. Presley. She doubts that he will say yes to anything she has to say. He spoke to her as if she were a child and treated her like she was less than that. He didn't even ask her name. It's true he softened a bit when she mentioned being an orphan, but it's not enough to counteract his rudeness. Maybe she's just not used to interacting with members of his social class and this is what she should expect from now on. Either way, she has no intentions of interacting with him again, if she can help it.

Then, she remembers that she's supposed to be changing and hastily dresses in the uniform Molly gave her. It's a little big, so she'll have to do some alterations tonight after dinner, assuming she's allowed a candle in her room and a needle and thread. She looks around the room and sighs, checking her reflection in the small round glass by the chamber pot. Finally, she makes her way back down the stairs to begin.

******

Mr. Presley stands at the window in the study, looking out over the grounds. How did this happen? He was not supposed to take over the estate for at least another decade. By then he should've been married with children, ready for this kind of responsibility. But now? At 25? He is nowhere near prepared.

Thankfully, the army granted him a leave to take care of things, but he still has two more years to serve before his term is complete and he can sell his commission. He might've liked to rise in the ranks, like his father had, to become a Colonel before this, but now he has no choice but to come home and manage the estate.

And then there's the matter of getting married. A house like this needs a lady to keep everything running smoothly. Besides that, the prospect of living in all these rooms completely alone is a daunting one. Of course the servants are there, but it's not like when he was a child and the strict lines between them were blurred behind the walls of the home. He cannot rely on them for companionship.

For some reason, thinking of companionship brings to his mind the new maid. She is painfully pretty, with her soft white skin and full pink lips. And there is an elegance about her that transcends her station, almost like she was born to be a lady but circumstance had other plans. He hadn't intended to hire her, but the knowledge that she has nowhere else to go made it impossible for him not to. Oh well. Obviously, it's what his father wanted and the estate can afford it. He tries to recall if he asked her name, but if he did he doesn't remember it.

He's shaken from his reverie about the maid when the butler interrupts and announces his lawyer, Mr. Crawford, come to discuss more details of the estate. Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?

******

To be continued...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity

[applbottmjeens]

F1 x COD OCs

Ft. @kaitaiga, @sleepyconfusedpotato, @alypink

HELLO BRAINROT COMMUNITY WE R COMBINING TWO FAVES.

MY FRIENDS OCS AND GUYS WHO DRIVE REAAAALLLY FAST

its my first time drawing some of these guys so it doesn't look as polished as id like, but I think that just means I gotta draw alot of F1 haha :3

This took way too long for me to make...but I hope everyone likes it :')

[masculinemiracles]

Silly thingy I found and the server has spoken that it IS canon

Good job Lucifer xoxo

original below

[grogart]

Annabelle knows how to keep her audience in suspense. That's what the suspenders are for after all.