#mun's ocs

[yandereworlds]

Blood samples with Dr. Laurence! Though, he might enjoy taking your blood a little too much. Laurence just loves keeping parts of you to keep with him.. And your blood isn't exempt from that.

Also, if you'd like to get early access to my artwork/content, you can receive updates in my server!!

[lordtonic]

Um Shit monday activity

[ars-daemonum]

Rotar ! He’s the particular one I used in my playthrough of Scarlet, I couldn’t resist taking a shot at my version of a Koraidon.

[pantry-rats]

my reagents! :3 Tinker, Lizzy, and Stranger

[theycallmekaibara]

It’s mermay and I’m feeling sappy and lovelorn, and ofc I’m (still) obsessed with Elliott,, but also at the same time I’m feeling incredibly hype for the upcoming The Little Mermaid movie (against my better judgement, given Disney’s Live Action Track Record). All of this culminated in the return of MermElliott...right on time  

[ask-the-koopa-family]

I thought this audio would suits well with Bowser and Mario's relationship in my AU 😂😭 Poor Bowser!!!

((I'm horrible...💀))

Art/OC/animation are mine dont copy/repost

#bowser

#supermariobros

#mario

#princesspeach

#princesscherry

#me

#sona

#animatic

#animation

[pinklocksoflove]

Lucatiel is so damn pretty!

[may8elle]

Sebastian and Mima!!~ (a Stardew Farmer OC from an Instagram follower!)

[pumpkinpuffgirls]

I apologize for being inactive, it's been harder to use tumblr since the wifi at my job straight up can't connect to it. Still, I'm vibing PPG right now so I figured it's time to dust off pumpkinpuff and upload

A refined ref of my PPG Sona, Tara Beauchamp. Herr name was originally "Tara Penn" but i updated it to fit the new Puff version.

Decided to make a puffed version too for fun because let’s face it, the way the girls are drawn is adorable. Plus Artistic Raven on DA rendered my PPG sona like a puff and that inspired me!

Townie is "Canon," Puffed is just for fun

[ask-pakistan]

I think 13 y/o me would be happy to see the amount of APH Pakistan content available in the fandom so far , seeing some recent activity makes me want to draw Umer again~ <(￣︶￣)>

[yandereworlds]

Trip to the mall with Lukas!

Decided to finally provide the Lukas fans with some soft content for now

[ariadnasdiary]

Dear Diary…

Beautiful commission made by Monmonartz on Instagram!

I came to realize I have a very few of art pieces where Ari is alone per se, so I commissioned one uwu. What's more iconic than Ari with her beloved Diario (Diary)? She looks so cute uwu. I posted it back on April on my Instagram (where I'm more active). I really like it :'D.

🚫 As always: the reposting, editing/tracing and the claiming of this picture as yours is strictly forbidden 🚫

[officiallyossy-haywooddent]

August 29th.

This is a fanfic / open rp starter so it’s kinda long. The writing might not be great, sorry.

TW for child death, loss of a sibling, minor mentions of bad parenting, minor drug use, minor toxic relationship

Every year without fail the week of August 25 was maybe the worst week of Ossy’s life. Every year they’d go through the same calls, same arrangements, same people. It never changed, even if their life circumstances did. Every year they would end up with a crown of flowers and a box of Halloween candy, completely and utterly alone.

It had been the same when they were eight and had been flown home from camp to give their testimony to the police. It had been the same when they were twelve, reeling from the loss of their brother and best friend and so, so many others; lost and alone in the middle of New York.

It had gotten worse when Ossy was thirteen, their palm sliced open over a marble altar, clasped in the hand of their best friend somewhere in the wilderness of the Yukon. Being fifteen in Gotham would be no different.

—

August 25.

It began, the preparations; the prayers. They called Frank first. Ossy hadn’t talked to him in years when it had first happened, he’d left the island with his mother to live with his grandmother in Vancouver, and they’d drifted apart.

A three hours on the ferry was a long time to travel to see someone, it wasn’t like they’d been good friends. They’d been five and eight, quietly talking in the forest behind their school every couple of days. That was all, Ossy didn’t think they’d ever speak to him again.

Then came the second war. He was there; they weren’t. He stopped by the med bay, asked where they’d been. They answered. He’d talked with them for hours, but he would always have to leave.

Nevertheless Ossy picked up their phone, dialled his number. They let it ring, once, twice. They hung up. It wasn’t right to bother Frank nowadays, and he hadn’t really known her anyway. Most people hadn’t.

They ordered a bulk box of Halloween candy. It would arrive in two days. They wished it would never come.

—

August 26.

Ossy’d found a place that did rush flower arrangements. They ordered three flower crowns, one for them, two for her. The place they’d gotten it, Belle Flore, was this tiny shop in North Gotham that imported seeds from everywhere in the world and grew all the flowers in a grow room above the store. The clerk, a red-headed guy probably less than a year older than them named Rhys, had been nice about the whole thing, suggesting an arrangement of Pheasants Eye, Prince’s Feather, Baby’s Breath, and Buttercup.

The combination was odd but sweet, symbolic. Buttercup had been her favourite after all. The crowns would be done in three days, the 29th.

Ossy would pick it up in the morning, flowers were always better fresh.

They spend the rest of the day asleep. The tranqs they’d gotten from Peter were nice, though they’d had to ration them out. They’d told him 2 wasn’t gonna be enough.

-

August 27.

Ossy sleeps through the day. They don’t move, but it’s fine. They don’t need to. Sleep is quiet, calming. Hypnos must have taken pity of them, each dream is an altered memory of their life before everything, a kinder one.

-

August 28.

The phone rings five times before going to voicemail, their mums soft voice letting them know to leave a message and that she’d get to it in the morning. She wouldn’t, not when she saw the caller ID.

“Hey, mum. It’s me. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, and I’m..I’m doing something for the 29th. You can always join me, I’ll pay for your flight and everything.”

Ossy pauses, taking a shuddering breath. It’s been a while since they’ve cried properly.

“…I miss you. And Grandpa. I’m sorry..about everything.”

They hang up quickly, regretting every second of it. She’d just delete it when she saw it, she always did. They leave the message anyway.

The package with the candy arrives at the manor, nobody asks what’s in it. Ossy doesn’t know if anyone even noticed it arrive. They request the day off tomorrow from the Deli, Mr. Maroni approves it. He’s been nice since he found out about the mugging, probably thinks they’re still scared of doing the night shift. They are, but they wouldn’t tell him that.

The night roles around and they pop the second half of a tranq. They don’t know if they want to wake up in the morning, sleeping away the 29th doesn’t sound half bad. It would be mean though, she would never have done it. She didn’t sleep, it was genetic. The gene had skipped Ossy.

-

August 29.

At 5:30 AM they show up at Belle Flores, it’s the same clerk, Rhys. He quietly hands over a pastel blue box with a subdued smile. He knows what the crowns are for, they’d told him. It’s easier to talk to strangers about these things.

Ossy stops back at the manor, grabbing the cats before hopping on one of the busses. They need to get out of the city again. Sometimes Gotham, with its constant noise and soaring buildings, felt like a maze. This then made them the rat, trying to find its way out before getting zapped.

The concrete held an energy they could never quite get used too. Ossy missed the blue pine of the salmon and rain forests; trees so large and thick they muffled everything within their shade, where oceans crashed against the conifered cliffs of their piece of home. They’d stolen that line from John Vailant.

The bus pulled to a stop outside a rocky beach. The cats had been quiet for the ride, good travellers. Ossy realized she’d never gotten to meet them.

They set up camp on a fallen log near the tree line, setting up a fence so the cats could be let loose to roam. Two of the flower crowns were laid side by side, the third resting on their head. It was good work, better than either of them had ever been capable of.

Ossy sat there for a while, listening to old songs they had long forgotten the words to, taking two bowls and pouring them full of the candy. It was stale, but that didn’t really matter. Stel had always saved her Halloween candy until Easter. They ate quietly, watching the cats play fight.

Ossy wasn’t sure how long it took for them to break down but they’d like to think it was close to an hour, a respectable amount of time to hold vigil before they imploded.

It was stupid for them to think they’d escaped it, moved past it. Not her death, no, they could never get over that, but being alone each year.

Not even having a picture of the family together. It was starting to get to them. Ossy would never admit it but they were starting to forget her face. People had always said they’d looked similar. They could never believe it. Stel had been good, so much better than any of the rest of them. Ossy would never be sure how she came from a family like theirs. Truth be told, they weren’t even sure what they looked like anymore, but that had little to do with the comparisons.

Ossy pulled out their phone, dialling half the numbers in their phone before deleting each one. They didn’t want to feel the need to explain it all to anyone. Deanna had told them to stop over analyzing their emotions, it wasn’t actually a form of processing apparently.

Finally, they landed on someone they wouldn’t mind calling. The gnawing sensation in their gut growing ever stronger as the phone rang, the soft click of the receiver letting them know there wasn’t really a way back.

“Hey.”

[surrogate-fawn]

Anticipation

(( 500 word fic commission for @cheezihouse featuring their OCs Egil and Fahn. Thank you for being my very first commissioner! ))

"Are you feeling okay?"

Was anyone -- truly, anyone -- supposed to feel "okay" while carrying ten extra pounds of weight on their hips?

"Need anything?"

Yes, actually. He needed this child to decide if it was ready to come earth-side or not.

Every other day, his belly would drop a little lower in his lap and contractions would start. Each time, Fahn -- his husband -- would be so sure that now, now was finally the time to meet their little one; but Egil had gone through this routine so often that the onset of contractions was no more than an annoyance to him. The contractions always tapered off by the end of the day, until they were no more than dull twinges in his lower back. Then the routine would start again within forty-eight hours.

This baby needed to make up their mind. Egil had grown tired of their indecisiveness.

A small moving lump traveled along the oblong swell of Egil's belly, a small foot -- hand? claw? . . . wing? -- pressing towards the outside world through layers of fat and muscle. The drow sank a bit further into the cushions of the bed, his brow knit as the jostling of his unborn child hit a nerve in his spine. A creeping tightness spread like a vine around his sides, spreading over the orb of his pregnancy until his womb shrank in under the force of it. Egil said nothing, just drew in a slow breath through his nostrils.

"Are you hurting?"

Slowly in, slowly out the drow breathed through his nose, eyes shut to the outside world as he steeled himself through the pain.

" . . . Egil?" Fahn's tone was different, at least enough so that his husband broke his focus.

"I'm fine," the drow said, his milk-white eyes opening to meet his mate's. "A contraction."

The harpy's sea blue feathers shimmered as Fahn's wings gave an excited jitter. "Another?" There was that telling glint in his eyes again -- that eagerness to welcome his first day of fatherhood.

Egil sighed. "Another. Yet another."

The gravid drow swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking rather like a flipped turtle as he struggled to right himself. Fahn slipped an over-sized claw beneath his husband's shoulders and lifted him slowly to his feet, the other resting protectively over Egil's belly.

"Do you think they're ready?" Fahn asked, radial feathers puffing up as he grinned down at the bump resting under his large palm.

"No," the pregnant drow huffed.

Egil flipped a lock of his indigo-tipped hair over his shoulder. He stretched his back, moaning deep in his throat when his low-hanging belly hardly lifted with the arch of his spine. The contraction was just now easing off -- it certainly had stuck around longer than Egil would've preferred.

He sighed, one of his hands joining his husband's over their child's home. "Feel? It's already faded. This child cannot seem to make up their blasted . . . "

Fahn raised an eyebrow. "Egil?"

The drow stepped clumsily to the side, looking down at the small damp spot that had appeared on the carpet. He could feel a similar dampness spreading down the inner thighs of his trousers. He watched Fahn's eyes grow wide as saucers.

"Well now," Egil said with a satisfied nod. "That's more like it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ Interested in a ficlet request? Visit my Ko-fi page! ]

[asystemerror]

I'm feeling evil.... Give me your top ships (ocxoc, ocxcanon, canonxcanon, ect.) and I will in return make silly hcs for them

[ars-daemonum]

Sinnoh Trio