ficmachine - Tumblr blog

ficmachine · 5 months ago

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Hi welcome to my ask blog! I'm Snowy and I'll be trying to post a lot about my many ocs, and I want to try and do more interactions! My main is @winterwoodragon so interactions will come from there!

If you're interested in Monsters and other peoples OC's give a follow!

If you want to see ALL of my OCs I have a toyhou.se/winterwoodragon

Taglist stuff below cut :3

Character Tag - #oc: [name]

Character Refs - #char list

Mun stuff - #snowy talks

#not fics

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ficmachine · 7 months ago

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Okay for real this time:

Hi! Nice to see you again! It's been a while but I'm finally in a spot where I can and have the time/space/energy to write.

Asks currently open for: Cult of the Lamb, Warframe, my and @winterwoodragon's OCs. (which can respectively be found Here and Here)

Just 2 fandoms for now so i can slowly ease back into things ;w;

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ficmachine · 7 months ago

Text

Okay for real this time:

Hi! Nice to see you again! It's been a while but I'm finally in a spot where I can and have the time/space/energy to write.

Asks currently open for: Cult of the Lamb, Warframe, my and @winterwoodragon's OCs. (which can respectively be found Here and Here)

Just 2 fandoms for now so i can slowly ease back into things ;w;

#bug.buzz #not fics #updates #cult of the lamb #cotl #warframe #original characters #ocs

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ficmachine · 7 months ago

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OC: Eliocodo snippet

Collab with @winterwoodragon abt their OC.

Wordcount: 545

Click here for the character's ToyHouse

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Quiet. Safe. Peaceful.

...Good.

Flying over the forest as a simple barn swallow, Eliocodo silently checks in on those injured and seeking sancturay. Do they yearn to leave the Fae realm? To leave the Mother's protection? Despite the violence these creatures face from humans, why do some long to leave? Why do young cry to go home? Is this not their home now?

Why not?

Briefly swooping by someone taking care of a potted daisy brings a wave of sympathy to his heart. The flower, although slightly wilted, is doing its hardest adapt to the new soil. He wonders if the plant can tell how the sun differs in this realm as its gentle light fades into night.

It is struggling too - he can hear it.

Elio, the new Guardian, is getting used to this position, still learning. Thrown into things head first - as the previous Guardian sacrificed themselves to keep the Mother alive – he needs to figure things out himself. Thankfully, the teachings and the journals the Previous left help immensley regardless of the library-worth of writings.

His wings tilt to the left gently, cilcling around a handful of smaller creatures as they triverse the much bigger woods.

His mind wanders.

Outside, a war is brewing. Far, far outside the realm, somewhere he's never given much thought to or knew existed prior to the request for shelter few cycles ago. Many monsters he's never seen now settling in, huddled together in large groups instead of going of their own to live in solitude. Strange and different from how the Fae live, but not unwelcome.

He would argue that the Travellers should try to reason with the humans, to find a middleground, but he's been told he doesn't understand – the nature of this war, nor the humans. (He scoffed at that in the moment. At the idea that he doesn't understand the nature of it. Foolish. He's one with nature; always was, always will be.)

Truth is that he does not understand. Not even slightly. He couldn't. The young Guardian knows nothing of what the travellers and the refugees speak of; nothing of humans, their ways, or the way things are outside where the Mother's protection doesn't extend. After all, how different can it be exactly?

With a few mental images strung together through stories of those seeking shelter, he has a vague idea: Tightly knit communities, homes dotted around a path like a trail of mushrooms, communal places. And, of course, the surface world isn't much different, though it's ruled by humans – the selfish and the greed-stricken ones who want everything to bend to their willl and be like them.

The image is a foreign one, he himself cannot truly picture it right.

He's not sure he wants to.

Here, everyone knows and agrees how important the Mother is, even if their ideas of how to protect Her are sometimes horrendously different. Though he does acknowledge that, while disheartening, a war might be needed. Simillarly to an amarbel, some actions must be taken immediately before they spill out of control and take root. After all, flora always grow back stronger after a fire.

War will not step foot here. Not while he's alive.

And, perhaps, it's for the best.

#bug writes fics #original characters #winterwoodragon #OCs #writing #drabble #oc lore #not fandom #writers on tumblr #faerie #monsters #monster ocs

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ficmachine · 7 months ago

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