#oc: sariel

[kaizuart]

[ oc ] Sariel, a once-angel of moon phases, he got in trouble for teaching humans.

A redraw of a character design from 2018(?), check under cut to see some old art!

[cherubicwitch]

wolstinien week 2024: day 1 holiday

the holidays seem a little bit warmer these days ♥

[pufffinn]

an attack with my character sariel and @sayijo ‘s character tobi!!! they’re the partners ever <333

[scourgefrontiers]

since i did one for rayza, i figured i'd give sariel an updated design and exploration sheet as well!

[arzyn]

oh boy.

so, for this fic, I needed a driver for the concept

So I accidentally forged an Ultrakill OC. Lemme write everything down about her.

NAME: SARIEL, ANGEL OF INNOVATION (she/her)

TYPE: GREATER ANGEL

BACKSTORY:

Sariel once lived in Heaven, creating a wide range of contraptions to improve the state of the place.

The Council was never really into it, always rejecting the designs she submitted. They don’t seem like the type to be favorable towards innovative change.

Sariel believes that development and innovation is the hallmark of all sentient life, and has always been fascinated with machines, a fascination that only became more passionate after the death of humanity.

This near-obsession with the blood-fueled machines of Hell didn’t sit right with the council, who exiled her from Heaven. They told her to be grateful the Father’s light was not ripped from her.

Sariel considered this a freeing action, and descended into Hell to more closely study its mechanical denizens, relishing in the opportunity to take them apart and learn about their inner workings with her own hands.

She lives in Lust but frequently travels to the other layers for her research.

PERSONALITY:

Unlike some other heavenly denizens, Sariel is relatively kind and welcoming to most, believing that the gift of knowledge should not be kept secret.

Get her talking about machines, and she could easily infodump for at least an hour.

On that note, if a machine isn’t hostile to her, she’ll immediately make attempts to investigate for the benefit of her research. Don’t worry, she only takes apart the ones that attack.

DESIGN:

No pictures, cause I can’t draw, but a rough written description of some key features.

—Golden wings with geartooth edges.

—A helmet featuring three glowing stars.

—A hoop-skirt-like clothing choice that stays in that shape with no support.

—Chest armor resembles lab gear.

INITIAL THEME SONG:

[brightblush]

digital angel SARIEL, programmed to be your most faithful and most knowledgeable companion not pictured: their horrific abandonment issues, contempt for their creator, virus-induced mood swings and having been trained on outdated wikipedia articles (they/them for both)

[galateasgrievance]

just trying to be polite

[strawberry-milk-bun]

Calling all Ikémen Prince fans!

Who is your favorite character?

[kinginthemask]

ɠσԃ ιʂ ɱყ ɱσσɳ

(oc design)

Sariel（שָׂרִיאֵל） angel of death, one of the watchers

The assassin lurking in the shadow of the lunar eclipse, harvesting souls of all sinners. She（or he）is as innocent and cruel as a child🌑

[violettduchess]

A/N: This is an official entry for the @flash-exchange In a Flash Creation Challenge. A huge thank you to @lorei-writes for all her help with organizing this so that I can post the whole thing at once.

Ikemen Prince OCs and their Suitors. Thank you to everyone who shared their OCs with me and trusted me to write them. It really is an honor! 💜

WC: 3.3 k

Esther x Chevalier (@lorei-writes) Bright fingers of sunlight try to push their way through the hazy white curtains, but even their insistent prodding isn’t enough to wake Chevalier. Esther, propped up on one elbow, takes a moment to study him, sunlight washing across his features, brightening the pale blond of his hair, gilding his long eyelashes, caressing the sharp line of his cheekbone. She smiles, allowing her fingertips to brush the soft, fair strands away from his forehead before leaning down, her own hair falling in curls over her shoulder like a curtain of ringed sunshine. “It’s morning, Chevka.” Her voice is brimming with affection, rounded with love. He grunts, the only sign of life aside from his steady breathing. Warmth blossoms in her heart and Esther knows what she must do. Cupping his face in her hand, she lowers her head until her lips touch his. She lingers there, reveling in the feel of his mouth, the scent of him, remaining still as a marbled statue until she feels him respond: there’s the curve of his smile against her lips and the sudden, secure wrap of his arms around her. In a voice thick with sleep and purring with tenderness, he kisses her back through the following words: “Good morning, my Ragdoll.”

Imogen x Nokto (@yarnnerdally) Nokto watches from the bed as Imogen rubs a towel through her damp chestnut hair, expressive green eyes narrowed in concentration. She catches sight of him in the mirror and turns, hand on her hip. “Something funny?” Slowly and shamelessly he sits up, allowing the bedsheets to slide down his lean torso and gather enticingly around his hips. “You….being so annoyed at having to bathe.” Imogen shakes her head, huffing out a breath. “You try getting all that chocolate out of your hair!” He grins slowly. “When I suggested we use chocolate, I believe your response was something like ‘Show me what you mean’ in a very seductive voice.” She rolls her eyes and his heart echoes the motion, flipping about in his chest as if he were some lovestruck youth. So what, he thinks. So what if he is? With a flourish he throws the bedsheets back and stalks towards her, relishing the way her expression goes from startled to heated in a matter of seconds. Nokto slides his arms around her, pulling her against his naked body, and dips his head so his lips brush the shell of her ear. “How about we take a bath together?” He kisses the sensitive spot just below his whispers and Imogen’s breath catches in her throat. “But…I’m already clean,” she murmurs, towel slipping from her hand to the floor. She feels his huff of laughter against her neck, the sharp nip of his teeth before he kisses the pink skin. “Then I will just have to dirty you again.” The words are throaty, a soft growl. She sighs happily, her body already saying yes as it yields itself to his kisses and his touch.

Melinda x Chevalier (@dododrawsstuff)  “I have something to show you.” With these words, Chevalier reaches for Melinda’s hand, threading his fingers through hers tightly, and leads her through the winding halls of the palace and into one of the salons. “What...?” she murmurs as he drops her hand a bit quickly, a bit awkwardly. She watches, perplexed, as he makes his way to the elegant white piano and lowers himself onto the bench. There is no sheet music in front of him. What is he.....and then he places his hands on the ivory keys and begins to play. At first she is simply captivated by the movement of his beautiful hands, the dexterity of his elegant fingers, but then the melody breaks through and she gasps. It is a song from her home country, one she sings to herself when she feels the lonely pangs of homesickness echo through the corridors of her heart. It is a song made famous by a woman who sang from the very depths of her vibrant soul, whose voice not only comes from Brazil, but IS Brazil. Melinda’s vision blurs as she makes her way over to the piano. She never knew he was listening, let alone that he was mentally recording every note she sang. His hands still as the chords fade and he turns towards her. “I had to infer certain musical elements but I believe this was an adequate—” He stops speaking as Melinda leans down, capturing his face in her hands and kisses him, words unable to convey the gratitude and love for this man who sensed her sadness and tried to bring a piece of her home to her. He relaxes under her touch, eyes only opening when she pulls back to rest her forehead against his. “Obrigado meu querido.” Thank you, my love.

Beatrice x Yves (@bicayaya) The kitchen is filled with the smell of cinnamon and sugar. Humming to herself, Beatrice carefully uses the flat end of her knife to spread the thick, pink cream across each of the cookies that have cooled enough for decoration. She leans down, concentrating as she makes sure the spread is even, each cookie matching the one before. She doesn’t notice that Yves has returned from the small garden just outside the kitchen, nor does she notice the way he’s paused, simply watching her with sunny affection dancing in the bright blue skies of his eyes. “There,” she says, straightening up again, staring down at the sea of pink frosted cookies proudly. Glancing over her shoulder, she spots him and smiles. “Don’t they look wonderful?” He pushes off the doorway he’s been leaning against, his smile curving into a grin. “They do, little bee, but….” He stops in front of her and with a small laugh, touches the tip of her nose, his finger coming away pink. “It looks like you decorated yourself.” Beatrice gasps softly, touching her nose and then starts laughing when her fingertip is also pink. “I guess I got too close!” Yves sets down his small basket of edible flowers, reaching for a clean dish towel. Gently, he cleans her nose and then leans forward, giving it a light kiss. He starts to straighten up but she catches the back of his neck. “Ah ah….not when I have you so close.” He melts into her touch, sighing happily as he slides his arms around her and meets her lips for a kiss sweeter than all the cookies in Rhodolite.

Viva x Leon (@lorei-writes) Being king means many responsibilities and one of them is dealing with ambassadors. Most are skilled at what they do and therefore polite, but every now and then, one comes along who believes that rudeness may prove more advantageous than civility. Leon watches one such man walk away and sighs heavily into his champagne glass, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. The man was arrogant, condescending and above all, an idiot. At least Viva didn’t hear some of the insulting things he had said– “How dare he speak to you like that!” He winces inwardly, turning to see his beautiful wife puffed up with indignation. Her eyes are narrowed, her shoulders squared and she’s about to chase down the man and possibly cause an international incident. Leon quickly sets down his glass and catches her hands mid-raise, turning her away from the gathering so that she can only focus on him. “Viva, my love.” He smiles, tenderness welling up inside him at the sight of the indignant fire blazing her eyes. “That boar of a man–” she rumbles, ready to let loose a storm. Leon gently tugs her towards him and places a calming kiss on her lips. “Forget him, my beautiful, valiant rooster.” Her attention snaps to her husband at that and he laughs, triggering her own, answering chuckle, deflating the cloud of umbrage. He twirls a curl of her golden hair around his index finger, head tipped as he regards her. “How about we get out of here?” Viva grins slowly. Never has she heard a better idea.

Romarin x Leon  (@ikeprinces-stuff) He follows the sound of music, the soft, mournful notes that guide him away from his study and up the winding stairs towards the salon on the third floor. It is a room he does not visit all that often. The walnut-colored door is open, just a crack, and he slowly pushes it further, peering inside. She’s standing by the window, magnetic jade eyes closed as she plays her beloved violin, that constant companion that saved her in so many, many ways. He watches her from the doorway, his heart aching in his chest at the story her music is telling. A song of sadness, of loneliness, of the dark, secret shadows that haunt a person’s heart. Her whole body bends as she plays, one with the instrument. The final note fades, leaving the room in silence until Leon clears his throat. Romarin’s eyes open, at first startled, but when she sees who it is she relaxes slowly like a skittish feline that needs a moment to recognize a kind face. “I didn’t know you were there.” He doesn’t answer with words but crosses the room to where she is standing. She notices the way he swallows, emotion balling in the back of his throat, before he places his hands on her shoulders and bends to place a kiss on her cheek. She breathes in deeply, the cool scent of him flooding her senses and steps closer, her violin hanging by her side as she rises onto her toes and kisses him, marveling at the way his mouth fits perfectly against hers. He sighs her name, sliding his hand along the silken moonlight of her pale hair. That sound, her name from his lips, feels as romantic and full of longing as any serenade, any sweet piece of music, could ever be.

Carina x Leon (@fang-and-feather) The campfire burns a warm orange, crackling steadily as it releases tiny red embers up into the night. The forest trees stand tall, reminding Leon of gentle, peaceful guardians keeping watch over the campsite he and Carina have built. Speaking of his love…he pulls his gaze away from the flames and stands, frowning. Where has she gone? Squinting, he looks beyond the tent towards the water. Moonlight glints off the smooth surface of the lake, silvery and idyllic. But there is no sign of her. A tiny tendril of concern sprouts in his heart and he’s about to call her name when suddenly, a dark shape explodes from behind several trees and leaps into the water, shattering the peaceful silver and filling the air with a loud gasp of laughter. He grins slowly. Of course. Carina waves from the water, still gasping from the shock of cold on her bare body. She watches, sapphire eyes alight with mischief and anticipation, as Leon makes his way towards the water, shedding his clothing piece by piece as he goes. Only when he is as bare as she is does he pause with a leonine grin on his face and then takes a running leap into the water, diving towards her. Their laughter fills the isolated area and when she holds out her arms in welcome, Leon swims to her and accepts her embrace. Moving aside her damp curls, he begins pressing kiss after kiss to her cheek, her neck, the curve of her shoulder, his mouth so very warm against her cool skin. Above the stars gleam brightly, tiny diamonds in a black velvet sky.

Ciel x Rio (@floydsteeth) Rio adjusts the straps of Ciel’s quiver on his shoulder as they walk back through the fields. He listens, bright blue eyes alight with adoration, as she explains the characteristics of the mushroom she is holding, a beautiful brown and pale green specimen she spotted on the way back from archery practice. “They only grow for a period of two weeks and then they’re gone. We’re so lucky we found—” Her words cut off and they both stop in their tracks. Just ahead, grazing upon the lush grass in the field, is a massive horse. It’s easily seventeen hands high, with powerful muscles that roll underneath its glossy silvery coat with every movement it makes. Ciel freezes, the little mushroom tumbling from her hand. “Rio.....” Her voice is small, shrunken with fear. But he’s already moving, walking towards the huge beast, calmly, fearlessly. “You seem to be in the wrong place, fella.” His tone is soothing, gentle. The horse lifts its great head and nickers. Before Rio can say another word, a red-faced stablehand comes huffing and puffing over the mound of tall grass. “This one got away,” he manages between deep breaths. “C’mon now Llwyd, let’s go.” He leads the horse away and Rio quickly returns to Ciel’s side. She’s pale but breathing steadily. Setting down the quiver of arrows, he reaches for her, pulling her against him and embraces her lovingly. “It’s ok.” He presses gentle kisses to the beauty marks on the side of her face. “It’s ok.” One final kiss, this time to her lips, soft and reassuring, a candle in the darkness. “Let’s go home.” He bends down, picking up the quiver and the tiny mushroom which he presses gently into her palm once again. “Let’s go home and you can keep telling me all about this little one on the way.”

Oliver x Sariel (@olivermorningstar) The sun has long since set, sinking into darkness, as Oliver adjusts the focus of his microscope. He wants to observe the bacteria he’s been cultivating just a little bit longer. The door to his study opens, the hinges squeaking softly, but he is so focused on his subject that he doesn’t even look up. The sound doesn’t even register. He’s muttering to himself, his black quill scratching against the parchment as he records his observations and questions they spark. It’s only the surprising sound of someone clearing their throat that breaks through, letting him know that he isn’t alone. He turns, eyes wide behind his glasses and then relaxes instantly when he sees Sariel. “It’s late,” the minister says as he approaches Oliver. The researcher sighs, turning to look over his shoulder at his instruments and his notes. “I know, I know but I just wanted to finish collecting my observations on this particular–” Sariel reaches up, gently taking hold of Oliver’s chin and turns his head back towards him. His eyes, an arresting dark violet, are full of something soft, something admiring. Still holding Oliver’s chin, he leans forward and presses a delicate kiss to his lips. Oliver’s breath catches in his throat, any and all protests crumbling immediately. Sariel kisses him again, then lets his fingers trail down his neck before falling back to his side. “I’ll wait here while you finish.” A rush of warmth colors Oliver’s cheeks. Sariel is so patient, so considerate….and somehow, in the greatest mystery known to mankind, he has chosen him to love, to care for. He nods, reaching out to briefly squeeze his hand. “Just another minute.”

Maeve x Keith (@keithsandwich) Maeve’s emerald eyes are closed, her head resting comfortably in Keith’s lap. The grass is soft beneath her bare feet and every now and then, a bird chirps, adding its music to the soothing sound of Keith’s voice as he reads to her from a new collection of Jadean poetry. In one hand he holds the slim volume, the other is holding hers, reveling in the feel of her slender fingers entwined with his. He’s reading a poem about love and nature and fate, about stars in the night sky that bless those who have found the sacred bond of lovers. Then he feels Maeve’s hand squeeze his and he lowers the book to find her looking up at him, those eyes wide open and bright, green as springtime, beautifully wild. Under that loving gaze he feels his heart unfold like a flower beckoned by sunshine and he can’t help himself, he has to kiss her. The book falls to the soft grass as he leans down just as she reaches for him. Gently he shifts her, pulling her into the warm circle of his arms, his lips moving over hers with wordless declarations of love and devotion. It is moments like this, enveloped in the safety of her love, that he understands a poet’s desire to try and capture the enormity of what it means to love and be loved in return. Maeve kisses him and the world is born anew. She smiles and it is daylight illuminating a field of wildflowers. He loves her and she loves him. There is nothing more natural or more beautiful.

Céline x Gilbert (@celiciaa) Céline slashes her way through the underbrush, single-mindedly heading towards the narrow dirt path that runs through this part of the dark Obsidian forest. Her sword bites into bushes and brambles, an extension of her fury. Gilbert knew they were being followed and went without her to take care of it. Damn it. Damn him. Her blade hacks through the last scattering of vegetation, revealing the earthen road and she stops when she sees the sight laid out before her. Gilbert, face flecked with crimson drops, pistol still in hand. Several bodies are laid out like fallen petals before him. He glances up from the havoc and offers her a bright smile. “They made poor choices.” Céline throws her long white braid over her shoulder, her sword falling to the ground as she crosses the space between them in several long strides, throwing her arms around him and kissing him fiercely. She catches his lip between her white teeth and bites down. The sound he makes is fire to gunpowder, sending a wash of heat straight through her body, every nerve feeling like it might explode at any moment. He pulls her tightly against him, their mouths restless and searching, rough and savage. She tastes blood, but it doesn’t matter. There’s blood everywhere anyway.

Leyla x Silvio (me) —  The overcast sky matches the expression on Silvio’s face. He watches as the last of the crates are loaded onto Siren’s Call. Leyla’s ship. The one getting ready to leave the royal Benitoite port. “That’s the last one, Captain.” First Mate Kai clamps a large, reassuring hand on Leyla’s shoulder and she nods at him. He inclines his head towards Silvio, a begrudging sign of respect, before heading onto the gangway. The silence between Silvio and Leyla hangs as heavy as the gray clouds above. “I don’t get why you gotta go. You know I could–” Leyla cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head, her gold hoop earrings swaying with the movement. “I won’t be a kept woman. You know that.” She sighs heavily, brushing aside several wayward strands of hair that the wind has plucked free of her dark braid. Silvio’s fingers ache at the sight. He curls his hands into fists, fighting the burning need to touch her. “Besides,” she continues, “It’s not that long. Just a few months.” Her words are hollow with forced optimism. Silvio looks down at his boots, jaw clenched. “Fuck.” His voice is ragged. “Captain!” Kai’s deep baritone calls from the ship. “The tide!” “I know!” she barks back, her own voice scraped raw with emotion. Trying to ignore the vice squeezing her heart, she turns to Silvio. He lifts his head and in his eyes she sees all the words his mouth can’t form, all the storm clouds churning in his heart. At the same time they stumble towards each other. The kiss is messy and desperate, tinted with anger and sharp with longing. It’s Leyla who pulls away first, afraid she won’t be able to take a step towards her ship if she holds him a moment longer. “Good-bye.” He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He only watches as distance shrinks her figure, taking her away from him, with her kiss still lingering on his aching lips.

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet

@silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton

@ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja

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@whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @ozalysss @bestbryn

[sarielsnowings]

Dazzle (right) meets Pigeon (left), the firbolg of the party.

Pigeon belongs to @/sacrxm

[bloody-bread]

The siblings Elias and Sariel:^D!!

Elias likes to also be called Asmodeus and would absolutely kill me for not drawing his make up but I haven't sleep and im tired(?

Sariel is Sariel:^D

Elias enjoys visual kei but this are his casual clothes (easier for me to draw hehe) and Sariel loves lolita (mainly sweet lolita) but this is what she would use when she's not wearing lolita:D!

[cherubicwitch]

dawn trailed

[bakersgrief]

Why Sariel hates Yose:

Yose: I've made my decision.

Sariel: It's only been two weeks?

Yose: Yeah. And I've slept on it for a couple days, too.

Sariel: How in the world could you have made a decision so quickly? Surely you haven't-

Yose: Jin, Clavis, Licht, and Luke don't want to be king. Chevalier and Nokto refuse to sit down and speak with me so I can do my job. That leaves Yves and Leon. As many good qualities as Yves has, I think Leon is better equipped to be king due to his excellent leadership and charisma, something Yves doesn't have. Also, as much as I hate to say it, Yves's origins may undermine his ability to rule effectively since there doesn't seem to be any progress made about being normal about Obsidian and Obsidianites in this area.

Sariel: ...

Sariel: Surely you can't think it is acceptable to refuse to get to know the others just because they-

Yose: I do think it's acceptable, actually. If they wanted to be king, they should have sat down with me like I asked them to so I could get the information needed to fulfill my duties.

Sariel: ...I must say, I am quite disappointed in your lack of effort as Belle.

Yose: You chose me because I was kicking the shit out of an inebriated person. Even if he was being mean to a kid, I don't think that was the height of morality or purity on my part.

[occasionaltouhou]

regular touhou #42: i hear they're celebrating halloween in makai this year! let's see how that's going