#literary Ocs

[oneslimybastard]

Gamefreak said 100% female gender ratio for Tinkaton, I said trans agenda he/him Menace

[scrimblyscrorblo]

He’s my own personal dress-up doll, wtf is up w bsd characters that makes it so easy to put em in lil outfits TT

[saysthenightingale]

if i ever start talking about making warhammer ocs. start hitting me and snap me out of it because that is when you know i am too far gone . I can’t be allowed to do this

[om0000]

hi dad

wonder by @catfacedcat woopa by @chef-tickle

[ibrithir-was-here]

@penquinlori had the /fantastic/ idea to have Little Nemo from the old comic strip “Little Nemo in Slumberland” could be the son of Mira (my oc adopted daughter of Captain Nemo) and I loooove that! Especially since I was already thinking she could have adventures in Lovecraft’s Dreamlands after getting picked up by The White Ship or something. So her adventures there could make it so that her son is later able to slip into the Dreamlands as well. And he definitely grows up on a heavy diet of stories about his grandfather and mother’s adventures in the seas of Earth and the Dreamlands.

[ivaspinoza]

OC names tag

Rules: Answer how you came up with your characters names and personalities.

Thank you dear @poethill for the tag! I am not big on tag games, but this weekend I finally had enough time and space to go back to my novel (drastic changes btw), so this feels right for this moment. I'm going with the main ocs:

Angie

Named after the Rolling Stones song, Angeline has a lot of anger because I had a lot of anger when she was born. Lots of questions, as well. She can be mean or rude, but not in a hot-villain way. She is just human: sometimes, she messes up. Her traits were also a reaction to the ''Bella Swan'' female character. Or the ''dangerous but absolutely pornographic'' type of female character. Or the ''I'm strong like a boy'' type, or the ''I don't fart'' type. I guess Angie is a place where I processed and still process some aspects of my femininity, anger and relationships. Angeline means Messenger (of God), which is the meaning of the word Angel (Greek - Angelos), which has too many layers and personal implications as well.

Evan

Another name I never second-guessed: it just popped into my head, ready to go. At the time, I had a friend who understood me incredibly well, without the need of words. He just knew how to get through me. Evan has lots of his personality. And my taste for rock music belongs with him.

Damien

Inspired by Damien Rice (for a long time, he was my favourite singer/songwriter). My best friend at the time, a girl, inspired some aspects of Damien. Also, the dynamic between him and Evan was similar to ours, so I incorporated and exaggerated some of that.

Madeleine

Tried to rename her a bunch of times, because of Angeline, but nothing will stick besides her original name. Maddie is a mix of many girls in my life, including myself.

Anthony

Like all the others, his name just appeared in my head and it felt absolutely right. There was a manga with lovely art and shit plot that one of my online friends at the time used to read, and she had all these pictures of her favourite character. I don't think kids these days will ever understand how precious pictures were before Pinterest, but anyway... She used to write fanfics, not about him specifically, but we talked a lot and his personality influenced many aspects of Anthony. She was big on angst, that's all I can say.

Tagging @cssnder @mysteryofvampires @drchenquill @valyalyon @informedimagining @crow-with-a-typewriter

[gabeorelse]

Last Line/Excerpt Share/Proud of Tag~

Thank you @drchenquill for the tag!! I super appreciate it.

I was gonna wait on this but tbh I just got a lit agent rejection so I thought screw it, I'm gonna have fun.

This is a new WIP; instead of fantasy it's literary fiction with speculative elements. It's about a trans guy who accidentally causes a miracle in his small, religious town and must cope with the fact that the residents now see him as a saint, even as he's hiding his queerness from them.

Excerpt: (it's the first line lol)

If God, Jesus Christ, or whatever passed for the divine had asked Lio if he wanted to be born, he probably would have gotten a polite ‘no, thank you’. This is probably why nobody asked. Much later, by the time Lio had hacked away at twenty-three years of life and stood on the precipice of sainthood, he wondered again why nobody had asked. By then, he had an answer. Again, nobody wanted to hear it.

Tagging with no pressure:

@hellynz @picnokinesis @sunshinedaysforever @mothman-can-write @rita-rae-siller @spacebetweengalaxies

[gorbalsvampire]

Clarimonde Explains It All

She’s not what I expected.

You say “elder vampire lady” to me and I’m picturing floor-length crimson ballgowns, nails and cheekbones you could cut yourself on, lips the only thing about her with any colour in it.

Clarimonde is five-five of boho chic; dress over jeans, big hat on the back of her chair, OG Doc Martens she's not been assed to lace up all the way. She does have long nails, but I’m pretty sure they’re fakes. There’s a tiny glass on the table in front of her, and it’s empty; can she keep it down?

She leans back to air-kiss Dominique, real old-school mwah-mwah lovely-to-see-you-babe; introduces herself in French, and smiles when I stutter my way through my je m’appelles and have to say in English, “but everyone except my mum calls me Tish.”

“Tish. My pleasure. So, why has Dominique brought you to see another old lady?”

Dominique glances at me — permission granted — and I explain there’s something I’m not getting from her and she thought hearing it in another voice would be good for me.

“I’ve lived a very boring life, my dear. Dominique has been around the world three times and left a trail of nonsense in her wake, what could I —“

“It’s the way you tell it,” says Dominique, rolling her eyes. “And of the two of us, who’s been on television?”

It’s Clarimonde’s turn to roll her eyes, and she does it with a little sniff that’s much more my idea of “elder vampire.”

“I was immortalised without my permission,” says Clarimonde. “You shouldn’t let poets lie to you, Tish; they tell you that you’ll live forever, they neglect to mention ‘as a petty pretty monster who leads innocent young men around by their dicks and away from God’. It could be worse; look what happened to poor Louis and his confessional. How many books of revision to his life story are there, now?”

“For real? The guy from —“

“Yes. The first at least is a true story. There’s a grain of truth at the bottom of all the stories. For instance; mine is truly the world’s oldest profession. I liked being called a ‘courtesan’, I wasn’t keen on ‘moll’, ‘whore’ has always been an insult…”

“What do you think of ‘sex worker’?” It’s out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying. Go for woke, I guess.

“Matter of fact, boring — but honest, which has its charms.” She smiles. “But — to stay on topic, because Dominique is making the face,” and she is, “let me forestall the inevitable question. Him too, and he was a piece of work.”

“The thing Clarimonde does so well,” Dominique explains from her end of the sofa, “is talk about men.”

“About a specific class of people,” says Clarimonde, and her pout looks like she wants to poke her tongue out of it. “Mostly men, who did awful things, frequently to women, and who happened to be like us. I’ve collected vampire stories ever since I was in one, and for the longest time they all had something in common. Take Dracula. Born in the fifteenth century. In the nineteenth, he re-emerges with a grand plan; he’ll move himself to what he’s been told is the greatest city on Earth and he’ll re-invent himself as a modern monster. What does he do when he gets there? Obsess over the first girl he gets his teeth into, and stalk his solicitor’s wife to punish the man for escaping, or whatever mad reason he had. Not just a monster but a failure. Why do you think that happens?”

“He’s got really poor impulse control?”

“And you said she didn’t get it.” Clarimonde laughs behind her hand, and for a second I can see her in costume-drama gear, peeking over a fan. “He’d been around too long. Once he’d been an empire-builder, and he remembered being that, but — did he really remember? Can the mind hold on to what it was five hundred years ago? Four hundred? When we cheat ourselves and say we were better people as little girls, from only ten or twenty years away?”

“I get it,” I say, practically talking over her. “I think. You’re saying he was trying to be who he thought he was, what history said he was. But really, he was… just a vampire.”

“And what a piece of work is a vampire?” she purrs, declaiming at her little glass. “Just a being who thirsts. A paragon of animals. Over time, we forget what else we were. Dominique brought you to me because I’m old. Because there are so few older. I’m a simple girl at heart; I take money and a little blood from people who have both to spare. It’s a simple rule, and it’s not a big plan, and it’s not much to hold on to.

“I keep my memories in stories. I don’t know if I’ve always looked this way, or if I saw that girl pretending to be me and made myself like her. Do you know Louis went back to his maker in the end? After everything he told, everything in that book, he went back on bended knee because he’d started to believe what was made up about him afterwards. He went back to a man he’d tried to kill and he thought he was in love. But he’s still alive, and he’s doing no harm to anyone but himself. And maybe one day I’ll wake up with a rosary in my hand and a pretty boy in my bed and I’ll hope to God he paid for it. That’s what happens when we live too long, Tish. We start believing what they say about us.”

One of the core impulses behind Bloodspell was "literary vampires are real but the version of their stories you get is off." Deconstructing the vampire as antagonist/romantic hero, y'know?

[leechjuice]

you believe me like a god; i'll destroy you like i am

[chaosrealm]

The Apparition (MK9-MK11 Timeline)

Description: A mysterious person visits the same grave every night. Kotal Kahn takes it upon himself to find out who. || Words: 846 || AO3 Link

Inspired by: The Apparition by Sleep Token

Dark grey clouds had amassed in Outworld’s capital alongside the humid evening breeze, and without the light of the moon and stars, the night would’ve been pitch black if not for the light of fireflies. When Kotal first arrived, he examined the grave. The stone marker had no name carved in it, but small patches of purple flowers had begun to blossom around it. Strange, Kotal thought. In a sea of graves with names, this one has none. Who could be buried here?

Reptile had informed the newly crowned Kahn that a suspicious person in a black shroud had visited the same grave every evening. He suggested it was perhaps a spy, and Kotal declared that he would put an end to these sightings once and for all.  

As dusk fell, Kotal crouched and camouflaged himself in the graveyard's thick brush. He waited for hours, his glowing white eyes constantly scanning the cemetery for movement. Kotal got increasingly frustrated as the hours passed, beginning to doubt the validity of Reptile’s informants. But just as Kotal went to stand, he heard the creak of the metal gates. He instantly shrinks back down into the bushes. 

Following the torch-bearing groundskeeper was someone in a black cloak, their gaze fixated on the ground. Whoever they were, they were much taller than the older, hunched-over Outworlder guiding them around. They stood with their shoulders straight, but even in the shadow of the flame, all Kotal could make out was that the bottom half of their face was also covered in black cloth. 

I’ve only ever seen drifters wear such attire… or exiles.

The keeper promptly leaves the side of the cloaked individual and begins lighting the other torches hung across the fence line. The more prominent figure doesn’t move, keeping their head down as they crack their knuckles. Kotal’s heart pounds against the confines of his ribcage. Something about this person filled him to the brim with dread.

More torches light up the gloomy graveyard, prompting Kotal to crouch further down among the bushes. He catches a glimpse of a sword hilt sticking out of the top of the cloak; its black steel glints in the firelight. He watches with furrowed brows as the keeper mumbles something to the apparition before exiting the cemetery and closing the gate behind him. 

Kotal unsheathes his macuahuitl as quietly as he can. His gaze follows the unknown being as they stride toward the unmarked grave. As they settle into a kneeling position, he slowly begins his approach, ensuring not to step on any stray twigs strewn about. 

Once close enough, he places the macuahuitl against the side of the person’s neck. “You will tell me who you are and why you visit this grave every night. Now.”

The person finally makes a noise, a sigh within a sob, “You were never one for subtlety, Ko'atal.” 

A woman’s voice, one that Kotal scarcely recognized, but it quickly became the furthest thing in his mind. In one fell swoop, the woman unsheathed her sword and clashed it with his, effortlessly disarming him. He hears a distant clang against the metal fence and is left speechless by the sight before him. 

The quick movements had slid the hood off her head, revealing violet eyes and short onyx hair. “It is a shame that you never learn.”

Kotal stands shocked, hands balled into fists, “Aella? I thought Havik sacrificed you to Reiko long ago.” 

Aella chuckles, lowering the mask to her chin, “Reiko sacrificed many. But even with all that godly power, he hesitated when Havik sat me before him. For a moment, there was a flash of the man I knew… But then the corruption began to tear him apart.” 

She shudders at the memory. 

“Is this his grave?” Kotal plainly asks. 

Aella’s eyes lock with Kotal’s as she pulls the hood back over her head, “No. He has no grave. Although I come here to grieve him all the same.” 

Kotal ponders his next move for a moment. He had opened old wounds, but she was a traitor and the last piece of a long-dead regime. She must be captured and put to death. 

He moves slightly toward the direction in which he saw his sword land. “You realize I cannot let you leave here alive,” he says. 

Aella pulls open her cloak with one hand to reveal her protruding belly, laughing as the Osh-Tekk man's eyes widen. “I am no threat to you or your godforsaken throne, Ko'atal.” She digs her feet into the grass and tightens her grip on her sword. “But if we must fight, then so be it.”

He lunges for his sword, swipes it up from the ground, and turns back to where she last stood. Kotal’s eyes dart around the graveyard, looking for any sign of her, but there’s nothing. Was she ever truly here?

He calls for guards and a dozen rush into the cemetery. They poke around in every bush and alleyway, but to no avail. She had disappeared into the dead of night without a trace. 

[hwashitape]

guess who painfully rebuilt the LCB UI for nefarious purposes

[mitskijamie]

Speaking of AU set in America. We've of course all read the royjamie frat hazing feminization fic right.

[ibrithir-was-here]

One more underated literary monster Monster High Kid, this one an OC who's credit goes to @see-arcane for helping create her!

Here's Marigold!

She's the daughter of The King in Yellow and a certain lady who came across some very interesting wallpaper...

[novemberthewriter]

fortune teller [300 wds]

genre: literary/drama (another flash piece done for a writing club prompt months back xx)

[tw: grief]

--

Zeke didn’t think divination was the Devil, like her mother did – she just thought it was dumb. When it came to Joseph Augustine, so-called Fortune Teller? Well, high school angst was a hardworking force and Joe Augustine worked even harder to feed into it. He never asked for money – not a single cent! Zeke checked – but somehow always had a shoebox full of cash by lunchtime. It was a total grift.

And yet. There she was, home alone after school, ear to the radio at Joe’s behest. She’d never actually spoken to him before. But today marked one month since Dodie’s passing, and Dodie used to visit with Joe every day. The decision was made for Zeke, really; at lunch her feet moved of their own accord and brought her right in front of Joe’s table. Her mouth moved of its own accord and said, You know Dodie James?

Her mouth said, I don’t want any of that playing card star chart shit but I just need to … know something about her.

Now Zeke worked the dial with two skinny fingers, trying to find answers in so many static-filled ballads and news bulletins. She’d been at it for an hour. You’ll know when you hear It, he’d told her. Her back ached from bending over. Her eyes were leaking without her permission. Zeke didn’t know what she was looking for, but she knew she had fifteen minutes before her mother got off work and demanded an explanation for doing Devil’s Work with the Crosley.

Then the next dial turn had Dodie’s favorite song blasting.

What could Zeke's body do but crumple?

What could Zeke do but sob?

And after eight minutes of her dead friend’s revival via rock opera – what could Zeke do but resolve to tip Joe tomorrow?

[anxiously-sidequesting]

SPEAKING OF WHICH are there like any chill wizard101 discord servers or group chats that I could join. Or if anyone just wanna add me on discord shoot me a tumblr DM because I'm lonely and I like you guys :)

[sunnywalnut]

Bored out of my marbles and missing my days with literary roleplay so here we go.

My name is Sunny, I'm 19, and my pronouns are he/him.

I am a semi to full literate texter, and would like somebody with the same level(you don't have to be completely in love with details as I am, however I would like the minimum of dialogue being more than a simple "hello" or a handful of words. I would also like descriptions to be a bit more in depth than just "the curtains were blue" or "the room was small" if you catch my drift. I like having something to build off of^^)

I do non fandom roleplay(OCs only, sorry!) though my range is pretty good, I'd think! I do furry/anthro and humanoid characters (as well as corrupted/monster OCS, but those are a bit more rare for me) and I'm always open to even just chatting about our characters!

My ideal partner would be someone in the 18-23 age range, seeing as I am turning 20 this year and would not be very comfortable with minors in my dms, but everyone else is welcome to have a shot!

And last but not least, here's a couple of my characters in order to ✨entice✨ the viewers:

Feel free to dm!

Thank you and have a good day!!