#oc: immor

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TAKE TWO: the second one

everyone look I drew Immor :)

[ID in alt text]

art taglist (ask to be +/-): @lychniscitrus, @multi-lefaiye, @rosesandartss, @abysslll, @yourlocal-lichen

[approximately20blorbos]

the way the stormlight archive fandom treats Lirin is probably evidence that if/when I publish SATT 90% of people are probably going to completely hate Immor bc they've misinterpreted him as a character which is. :(

[pipermintz]

Just drew a fucked up evil mouse.... just a small glimpse into my sick and twisted mind..........

[jksnrabbit]

late night talk

i wanted to make another lil johnny doodle sheet . then i got distracted. have some sweet close boys hurt

nick and johnny i love you boys i hope youre okay

[the-toybox-general]

@asimplechaos HELLO !!! Tysm for requesting my White Night. hes insane

Finally gave me excuse to make a digital drawing of this guy, I've got a few sketchbook scramblings of him. In my au he just decides to take this form every now and then, reminds him of his past life.

[haharuspex]

suddenly got fallout brain worms, so here are doodles with my sole survivor - altana winter! she's an angry vault-tec scientist who was vault 111's overseer and didn't like how her experiments turned out. didn't like it at all :)

and ofc they're bickering w/ nick all the time. they're divorced and have insane sexual tension. to me

[ghostwise]

ZevWarden Week 2023 - Day 2, Secrets Kept and Told

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Death From Head to Foot :: 721 words tags: guilt, ptsd, canon-typical violence, zevran arainai/male mahariel

It was bound to happen eventually.

Zevran does not know the man, but the man knows him, and that is his own error. An Antivan Crow never blows his cover. A Crow should strike from the shadows, vanishing after a swift and lethal blow with none the wiser. No witnesses. But here he is, and here the grieving stranger, bent on his destruction.

Had he not come to this city, Zevran would have never known that this particular iteration of Vengeance stalked the world, with his name upon its lips.

Worse still, Hamal meets his would be assailant first.

Damn it all.

"Do you regret his death?" Hamal asks him, days after the fact.

An easy question. Zevran is alive and his attacker is dead. The Warden is safe and unharmed. All should be well. And yet…

Zevran gives a terse shake of his head. "It was him or me. And you were quicker in dispatching him than I would have been."

Hamal observes him for a moment. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't immediately reply.

It's true that the incident bothers him still. It does him no good to brood over it, however; he should have put it from his mind straight away. Such childish moping helps no one. Now Hamal is concerned, and Zevran knows better than to try to insist everything's fine.

Experience has taught both of them how to navigate these fraught moments of conversation. So he gives.

"It was his right," he says sharply. "I killed someone dear to him. He reacted accordingly."

"As did I," Hamal returns, carefully.

"I know that," Zevran says. "Thank you, by the way."

Hamal's brow furrows. "Creators, now I am worried. Zevran, what's the matter?"

"It is going to happen again."

In the resulting silence, Zevran lets out a sigh, and explains.

"In all of our travels together," Zevran gestures in a wide arc at their surroundings, "How many times do you think we have passed through a city or town where I have killed someone? In truth, it happens more often than I care to comment on."

Hamal hesitates before answering. "This troubles you."

"No, in fact," Zevran replies. "What troubles me is that you cannot understand how much I am guilty of. Not because I would ever keep it from you—but because if I listed off my every sin we would never have time to discuss anything else! And then things like this happen without warning, and it—damn it all. How can I expect you to answer for so much?"

Perhaps it is a testament to how long they have been together, that Zevran no longer glosses over his emotions, his anger, his sadness. He doesn't need to. Not with him.

Hamal looks away for a moment. Through the muddle, it clicks.

"You wanted to kill him yourself," he says gently.

"I was the target. I should have handled it."

"How is this different from any other time you have killed to protect me? Or I you, for that matter?"

The question knocks a bitter laugh out of Zevran. He looks away. Worse still, he realizes that Hamal is right; this was different. And now Zevran can only remember every stupid, cruel decision he made when he was an angry and lost young man.

It had not been a contracted killing.

It had been a simple murder. A common fight gone wrong, bravado and his cunning Taliesen egging him on. A version of himself Zevran cannot think about without his stomach turning. No wonder the man had been so bent on killing him. No wonder.

"Shit," Hamal murmurs, and sets a warm hand on his shoulder. "Zev, you do not need to talk about it if you do not want to. I don't mean to pry. Just tell me what I can do to help you right now."

In an instant, the feeling swells and fades. Zevran shuts his eyes. His shoulders slump minutely; he is grateful for the escape.

"Just… forget I said anything," he says. "Please, amor, forgive my bad mood. I will be fine. Really."

And I will tell you later, he thinks, as Hamal gives him a reassuring squeeze, what a horror it is you have married; and you will love me all the same, I know; and I you, more and more all the time…

[psychesetra]

familiarity; pov surna

surna wandering the fantasy universe and seeing 5 things that remind him of his wife, and setra on the other side of the world remembering one thing that reminds her of surna.

* • + • *

1. sunflowers face the sun

surnaturel wasn’t one to take walks too often. the nature around him had too much game for him to not bring out his shotgun and start hunting.

but this morning felt unsettlingly calm. it was one of the very, very few times he had woken up and thought he was next to his wife again.

of course he wasn’t. she was dead.

he walked out the front door, smile more of a grimace. he could barely see in the morning sun.

funny, how the light can blind one to the truth.

as he walked, he noticed a larger patch of yellow and gold in his line of sight. turning his head a little to see better, he noticed a field of flowers.

sunflowers.

oh, this world loved tormenting him, didn’t it?

sunflowers, just like the ones setra gave him. sunflowers, just like the ones she would put in his hair. sunflowers, just like the ones she used to grow.

sunflowers, that turned to face the sun like she turned to face him.

2. a deep, wine red

setra had adored the color red, especially the shade surnaturel wore every day.

the dresses she performed in were always varying shades of red, deep and dark, like wine.

she put ribbons with roses in her hair, to make her ‘more dazzling,’ she said. (and why does she need that? she was already drop-dead gorgeous in just a nightgown, surnaturel thought.)

the blood on her lips was red too.

when he found her in that dumpster, chest unmoving, eyes unseeing, he thinks a part of him died along with her that day.

the blood on her lips was so, so red.

3. books in stacks on your lap

surnaturel and setra both shared a love for reading, but hers was more obsessive – if she deemed a book good enough, she could finish it in days, or just one.

her favorites were always stacked next to his bed.

romance upon romance was all she read, and the twenty-odd books he was looking through were proof.

he wishes the last one didn’t remind him of her so much.

a whirlwind romance in which a performer and one of her fans falls in love, all while keeping it secret to keep her fame.

it was as if their love had just been turned into a book, into fiction, as if she didn’t exist.

he hates it.

4. song and dance, i hum and prance

with setra being a stage performer and all that, of course every song and dance would remind surnaturel of her.

the radio was playing a few of his favorite tunes. had been for a while, until he heard the familiar violin and trumpet of a certain song.

‘never thought that you would be,’

‘standing here so close to me..’

“there’s so much i feel that i should say..” he sang along, feeling nostalgic. the last time he had listened to this song was years and years ago, when he had danced with setra in their room.

‘but words can wait, until some other day..’

5. the farm out back, it smells like you

setra had loved taking care of plants when she was still alive.

surnaturel remembered their backyard was filled with sunflowers and roses and so many kinds of camellias.

so now, he stands before the freshly planted seeds in his backyard, in this new world he knew nothing about.

he wishes he would find his love again. just maybe, he will. maybe he’ll find her as the camellias bloom, and he can give her a bouquet.

he can dream.

+1. radio in the back

setra hadn’t listened to the radio in years.

she had one. a very old model, hidden in the back of the living room.

one day, though, lily found it. confused, she managed to turn it on.

everyone in the room heard the violin and the trumpets.

especially setra.

as if puppeteered by strings, she started singing along.

‘kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again,’

“it’s been a long, long time..”

oh, it really had been. she wishes she could see her husband again.

“haven’t felt like this, my dear, since can’t remember when..”

it’s been a long, long time.

* • + • *

i hope you all liked this !! i really love to write abt my ocs so here is one of them pining for the other so much it made my heart hurt

[thesquirrelqueer]

meet glitch, one of the three antagonists of immoral malware. you may recognize them from my icon, with a few minor design changes. they’re a very mischievous AI hellbent on world domination. they’re also just starting to learn about the human world, so world domination is gonna be a lot trickier than they thought.

[mushroom-creacher]

Wayward Dads Chapter 3: Don't Father Me

< - >

The room had quickly erupted into chaos.

Lark and Grant shouted questions that went unanswered, Terry started pacing along the small room and Sparrow was trying to bring Nick down from a poorly masked panic attack while Paeden clung to Walter.

Erin and Walter didn’t know what to do. How the hell did this even happen? Was there a way to reverse it? How were they supposed to handle this?

“Can we all just calm down for a sec?” Figgs leaned against the wall, their snake familiar resting contently in her hair. “They’re kids, so what? You can still grab ‘em and bring ‘em back.”

Erin sighed and massaged her temples. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Figgs. We don’t stand a chance against the Omega Daddies on our own.”

“There’s like, eight of you.”

“Six of which are children!” Walter spoke up.

Figgs scoffed. “That’s still enough to cause a distraction while the others grab your guys. You just need to keep the bad guys busy long enough to make an extraction.”

“That… might actually work…” Erin looked at the rest of the group. “We’d only need to hold up for a few minutes. I’ve seen you all fight, you may not be able to take someone down just yet, but you can stand your ground for a long while.”

“You can’t seriously be thinking of letting them fight those people! They’re 12!” Walter crossed his arms.

“It’s our only option if we want to get their dads back! Besides, do you really think they’re going to just sit here and let us handle it without them?”

“No, but we can at least try to keep them out of it!”

“They’re already in it! These kids have seen action, they’ll be fine!”

“We can’t risk them getting taken again! Their dads just got them back and now you want to put them in danger?!”

“Well, I don’t see you coming up with any other ideas!”

“Can you both please stop talking about us like we’re not here?!”

Erin and Walter went silent and looked toward the outburst.

Everyone was looking at Terry Jr., his brow furrowed in frustration.

“How about just asking us what we want to do instead of making the choice for us!”

“Yeah, we want to help! We can’t just sit here and do nothing while our dads are out there!” Sparrow spoke up.

Walter sighed. “Kids, we know you want to help but this is much too dangerous. We are fighting incredibly powerful people; you could get hurt or taken again! Then we’d be back at square one.”

“We’re not gonna wait around here while you guys are out there! You can’t keep us here!” Grant protested.

“Oh yes, I can! Even if I have to tie you to the door, you’re not going out there! It’s too dangerous!”

Walter felt a small tug on his sleeve, looking down he saw Paeden, unusually timid and afraid.

“Walter... Please... We can’t leave them...”

The bullywug stared back at the small boy before letting out a heavy sigh as he looked back up at the group of defiant tweens. He knew that only him and Erin wouldn’t be able to fight against the Omega Daddies, but putting these kids in the line of fire would be wildly irresponsible. But then again, he remembered how angry and scared he was when Paeden had gone missing and what he was willing to do to get him back.

“Ok. Fine. But we are taking every precaution! If things get bad, we retreat immediately. Understood?” He gave a pointed look to everyone in the room to make sure they knew how serious he was taking this.

 All of the kids nodded, letting out a collective sigh of relief.

“Ok, well now that you have all come to the sensible arrangement, maybe we should get a move on. Which kid are we nabbin’ first?” Figgs asked bluntly, already preparing to cast the portal.

“Gods, do you have to phrase it like that?” Erin cringed.

“What? We are nabbing kids, even if they should be nabbed, it’s still nabbing. So I ask again, who are we nabbin’ first?”

Lark and Sparrow stepped up.

“Our father is a powerful druid even as a child. It would be beneficial to acquire him first as he will be helpful in fighting the rest of our previous captors.” Lark explained.

“And he it would be smart to get another healer in case anything bad happens during the rest of the rescue missions.” Sparrow added.

Nobody argued, even if they wanted to. They all wanted to get their dads back as much as the others and Lark and Sparrow made some good points, though they all knew that this strategy was just their excuse to get their dad back as soon as possible.

Erin nodded. “Ok. You all should get ready, prepare however you can while Figgs and I work on this portal. Try to come up with a plan, a good one.”

The twins nodded and rejoined the rest of their small party and Walter to discuss strategies.

Though it was subtle, everyone could see the small glint in the Oak boys’ eyes. One that the other boys had only ever seen when someone dared to try and push one of the twins around. A look of complete and total determination and protectiveness. They were going to get their dad back no matter the cost. Because one thing you learn around the boys is that you never mess with an Oak.

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alright everyone it's mandatory look at my blorbos time (credit to @toastsamurai!!!)

(ID in alt text)

so now you all have seen the thing that has me Like This today jgsbshvsgbshvhd

I'm not gonna shut up about this for a while

[approximately20blorbos]

face, canvas, and day? :0

ty for the ask runic!!!!!! I an gonna answer for Immor I think :)

Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

so Immor's face is pretty Sharp honestly if I had to pick just one word to describe it? he's got very high, prominent cheekbones and a very sharp jawline. also his eyes are gold and it's a sort of piercing color. He does not smile but when he's in a situation where someone who does use facial expressions might smile he is visibly less tense and the corners of his eyes kind of go up a bit the way that they would if he was smiling, but his mouth doesn't move. first thing someone might notice is probably that he seems a bit intense and intimidating

Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

ok so I maybe chose Immor for a reason lol

yeah he's got a lot of them and he keeps them very covered. basically his whole upper body save for like his face is just. a complete mess of scars and he's not a fan of stares or pity so! sweaters. sweaters all the time even if it's summer and 100°F outside

What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

sweaters! sweaters all the time babey. monochrome sweaters even. and grey pants. that's his outfit almost all the time

ofc in his line of work he does also wear chainmail very often also, and along with it this midnight blue cloak with the shining guard insignia on it, which he has to show his rank as a commander :)

ty again for the ask!!

[anneapocalypse]

I feel like I should apologize for Merrill and Isabela not making into onto the "unhinged wlw" poll but let's be real here. "does piracy offscreen somewhere" and "does a blood magic with her own blood" barely qualifies as unhinged relative to some of the people on that list.

[frogyjones-art]

Making a tired werewolf scientist oc

[mister13eyond]

tbh a large chunk of my affection for vin & my characterization for him comes from the overdone idea that a character who is morally grey/does not have a moral compass/has little empathy for humans and thinks of them as pretty much toys MUST be dark, troubled, threatening, or otherwise made scary- like. i see lots of "this immortal has lost touch with their humanity & it's made them distant, ethereal, stricken with ennui and dissatisfied" but like

dude there is SO much shit to do in the world. losing touch with your humanity blah blah, having no morals seeing humans as playthings whatever- can't someone be doing that and having a Fucking Blast? i just love an immortal, dream-eating demon who acts like he is at fucking disneyland every day, he's thrilled in equal part to experience the gruesome reality of a nightmare and also to pick up a new hobby- all stimuli is good stimuli, all experiences are good experiences, he loves feeling things! he loves feeling terror or sorrow or grief or loneliness by getting to join in on a nightmare or a dream of someone lost or a dream of isolation. It's so COOL and FUN, humans have such rich little lives, aww!

[kronoose]

Tw death mentioned spoilers for EP 68 of Dndads

A young teen sat in front of two graves two bouquets of fresh flowers on each

This wasn't an uncommon sight it was actually more rare to not see the Teen by these two particular graves. " I'm back guys sorry for being out so long the shop keep was being a jerk" he set each bouquet carefully in vases "Darryl is doing ok he misses his dad-son also I've convinced Henry to allow the twins to give me tattoos I'm going to get my wings and visit you " Luka chuckled softly to himself and rests a knife next to each smiling fondly at the one his brother used to wield the story of him slicing Glenn's tendon popping to mind he wishes he'd been there to see it happen.

"we miss you so much dad " he leaned on the grave belonging to Walter the immoral

He looked up at the graying clouds and sighed softly "looks like I'm in for a long night of keeping watch over you two"

Luka closed his blue eyes that were darkening almost imperceptibly as his wolf ears shoot up at an unexpected sound. the teen glanced around snarling his teeth slightly sharper than average as Luka hands the reins of the body over to Jake who unsheathed the knives in a smooth motion "show yourself" a deep voice came from the teen in no way matching the anxiety and grief filled voice from moments ago

There was no response as Jake called out Once more "show yourself!" His eyes glowed slightly as he casts detect magic trying to see who ever dared enter his sanctuary and final resting place of the only two people he loved in this life

A yellowish outline of a humanoid ligths up around the back side of the graves

"Please stand down " the figure put up their hands "Im hear to see my father"

"so you're the fucker that broke dads heart"Luka gently places a coin in a swear jar"he talked about you alot "

"my name is Rolhim it took me a long time to find my father"he lowered his hands

Luka scoffed slightly "he wanted to look for you ya know but he respected your casting him aside like trash after he was cursed"

"you wouldn't understand how much of a shock it was he turned into a bullywug" Rolhim snapped at the younger teen

"a shock?? That's your reason for abandoning your father" Luka stood decisively between Rolhim and Walter's grave

"move aside you have no right to keep me from him"

"I have every right I stayed with him from the moment I met him he is the kindest most badass soul he cared for paeden more than anything " he took a deep breath the way that Henry had taught him "I Burried him not you gods know where the fuck you were"

"he's my father I'm his heir I deserve to be here as much as anyone else in this shitty town "

"I'm giving you 6seconds to leave or I will be adding your name to list of people I've Burried" he holds up a hand counting down while readying a spell

Rolhim stood his ground "try me"

"I saw this used on my other dad aprently it hurts like a bitch" he snapped his fingers at the other with a flick of his wrist a burst of necrotic energy hit Rolhim sending him doubling over and crying out in pain "hmm seems like Glenn wasn't exaggerating" a dark grin passed across the teens face

"you bastard what did you do to me!"

"I think it's called harm now go you're not welcome here"

Rolhim scrambled away

Luka smirked softly and sets down both of his daggers once again one on each grave

He set up tarps over each grave sighing softly as the rain started to fall

I found this piccrew and was like ah yes despite it being 3am time write angst

I think I really got paedens lil shit/affectionate. vibes