A monster of my own creation

Private/selective historical and modern OCs. Mun 32+. See rules and bios for details. curseconsumed.tumblr.com/rules curseconsumed.tumblr.com/bio

[curseconsumed]

Private & selective indie RP/ask blog for historical/modern OCs, Elizabeth Morrow, Clara Boyd, and Jacob Nash.

BIOS | RULES | ASK | MEMES

*Each OC has a modern verse. Just ask, and we can plot!

[1two9]

[maggiethemermaid08]

Lily Collins in Mirror Mirror, 2012 by Tarsem Singh

(the only Snow White movie btw)

[televsion]

Lily Collins as Snow White Mirror Mirror (2012) dir. Tarsem Singh

[petubox]

BELLA HEATHCOTE GIF PACK　—　( #100 gifs ) from THE REWRITE (2014) movie has been delivered to the commissioner & can be found on the sourcelink . each gif were made by me from scratch, respect her as faceclaim & enjoy. ♡

[codyfernuk]

Cody Fern in American Horror Stories - Milkmaids. His episode will air on September 1st!

[trcshymemes]

COWBOY BEBOP SENTENCE STARTERS.

❝ …Bang… ❞

❝ This could be a trap. ❞

❝ This is strictly business. ❞

❝ Whatever happens, happens. ❞

❝ Life is but a dream. ❞

❝ You’re in a good mood today. ❞

❝ Tell me what you’re doing here. ❞

❝ Don’t try anything. ❞

❝ Why don’t you shoot? ❞

❝ Go on, pull the trigger. ❞

❝ What’s wrong? Lose your nerve? ❞

❝ You’re an original, aren’t you? ❞

❝ Could you be a little quieter please? ❞

❝ Great, a wannabe preacher with a gun… ❞

❝ Guess you’ll have to chalk it up to bad luck. ❞

❝ You’re gonna carry that weight. ❞

❝ The one that’s insane is this world. ❞

❝ Hey there, having a little trouble? ❞

❝ Are you living in the real world? ❞ 

❝ Even if you play by the rules, nothing gets solved. ❞

❝ The more you know, the shorter your life will be. ❞

❝ I’m just a humble bounty hunter, ma’am/sir. ❞

❝ Pretending to be senile won’t get you out of this. ❞

❝ I’m just watching a bad dream I never wake up from. ❞

❝ Are you pleading for your life? ❞

❝ You should see yourself right now. ❞

❝ Do you have any idea what you look like? A ravenous beast. ❞

❝ The same blood runs through both of us. ❞

❝ I’ve bleed all that kind of blood away. ❞

❝ Why are you still alive? ❞

❝ Don’t give me that art of war crap. ❞

❝ Time never stands still. ❞  

❝ If you don’t work, you don’t eat. ❞

❝ These Earthlings are weird. ❞ 

❝ I’ll take care of this, you can go back. ❞

❝ I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass. ❞

❝ A star just fell from the sky. ❞

❝ Cold climates don’t concern me. ❞

❝ Your heart is colder than any planet. ❞

❝ Remember, a snake cannot eat a dragon. ❞

❝ We should’ve never taken such a risk. ❞

❝ I’m fully aware of the danger. ❞

❝ How long were you in there listening, [ name ]? ❞ 

❝ And this time, I hope you have sweet dreams. ❞

❝ I’ll meet you at the end of this world. ❞

❝ Belonging is the very best thing there is. ❞

❝ There is nothing more innocent and cruel than a child.❞

❝ Man shouldn’t have to live on carbohydrates alone, complex or otherwise. ❞

❝ I have no fear of death. It just means dreaming in silence. A dream that lasts for an eternity. ❞

❝ Of the days that I have lived, only those I spent with you seemed real. ❞

❝ My memory…finally came back…but nothing good came from it. ❞

❝ There was no place for me to return to; this was the only place I could go. ❞

❝ Why do you have to go? Where are you going?! ❞

❝ What are you going to do, throw away your life like it was nothing?! ❞

❝ What’s your price to keep this from leaking to the press? ❞

❝ Either you give me the money or I put a bullet through your brain. ❞    

❝ I’m not the type to be led around by a woman/man. ❞

❝ You can’t tell the age of a woman by looking at her. ❞

❝ You’re kidding yourself if you think every woman/man is like you. They’re not.❞

❝ Why did you do all of this? For money? Some sort of revenge? Or perhaps just for fun?❞

❝ Come on, hang in there, you hear me? ❞ 

❝ When angels are forced out of heaven, they become devils. ❞

❝ Tell me, if we had met earlier in life, would we have been friends? ❞

❝ You know the first rule of combat? Shoot them before they shoot you. ❞

❝ I’m not a criminal. Woah, that makes me sound more like a criminal, doesn’t it. ❞

❝ You took all the money you stole from us and lost it in a gambling casino? ❞

❝ This is real mystic and all, but uh, do you have anything to eat here? ❞

❝ You know what they say, cowboy, easy come easy go. ❞ 

❝ You told me once, to forget the past, cause it doesn’t matter, but you’re the one still tied to the past, [ name ]!  ❞

❝ Don’t tell me things like that; you’ve never told me anything about yourself, so don’t tell me now! ❞

❝ I felt like I was watching a dream I’d never wake up from. Before I knew it, the dream was all over. ❞

❝ Do not fear death. Death is always at our side. When we show fear, it jumps at us faster than light, but if we do not show fear, it casts its eye upon us gently and then guides us into infinity…  ❞

❝ Men only think about their past right before death, as if they were searching frantically for proof they were alive. ❞

❝ No one can draw a clear line between sane and insane. You move that line as you see fit for yourself. No one else can.  ❞

[dandyrawks]

Cody Fern as Thomas Browne | American Horror Stories S2E4 “Milkmaids”

[1two9]

[willowsfanarts]

chasing a starlight - latest artwork

[faithhearted-deactivated2026021]

@curseconsumed

"It's lovely to see you again, Jacques. I daresay, I've missed your sullen gaze."

[curseconsumed]

Jacques?

Jacob froze at the address, only to turn and behold a face he admittedly hadn't been expecting to see -- not ever again. Lorraine Duplantier was far too sweet and positive for camp life, or war relations at all, in his blunt opinion, so to find her at a banquet...well...

"It's lovely to see you again, Jacques," she cooed. "I daresay, I've missed your sullen gaze."

Mouth turning downward to match the sour expression of which she spoke, Jacob barely disguised a grumble under his breath, suddenly wishing that he could, in fact, enjoy the drink he held in his hand. It wasn't as if he could ask the servant serving the ale to open a vein.

"Good evening, Miss Duplantier," he muttered, averting his gaze so that instead, he was appraising the other men and women who milled about the room. "What brings you back to Jersey? Surely, not your infernal love of snow angels, or the camp's contagion and unrelenting misery?"

[faithhearted-deactivated2026021]

@curseconsumed

It was customary for those loyal to the crown to house the king’s soldiers as they reclaimed territory in his honor, and the Boyd household was close to where M.ajor A.ndre’s current residence. R.iver would be able make his way there at a moment’s notice, should he be needed. After his demotion from C.aptain to L.ieutenant, he’s determined to prove himself worthy of his superior’s confidence and trust. Until then, of course, he was at the mercy of his hosts, who weren’t shy about sharing their wealth in the way of a lavish ball to welcome the battalion.

Not one for the commotion, R.iver decided to make himself scarce and seek refuge in the estate’s library. What he hadn’t expected was to find someone already there.

“Oh, sorry.” He stammers, clearing his throat, “I didn’t know anyone else would be back here with all the goings on.”

It isn’t proper to be alone with a woman sans chaperone, but he also doesn’t want to have to return to the party. Ultimately, he decides on awkward small talk. Better that than the entire town witness his two left feet on the dance floor.

“Er — what are you reading?”

[curseconsumed]

Where parties were once a source of joy and excitement, the war had quickly made them grow stale, stifling. Clara didn't wish to be privy to the lie that all was well. All was bloody not well at all, and she couldn't reconcile with false smiles and forced coquetry a moment longer.

The library was easily her greatest source of refuge. Her family scarcely read, and even if they did, they typically chose to do so in their own personal corners of the house. That was why when a soft, masculine voice erupted from behind, Clara nearly groaned.

"Yes, well I imagine most snoops don't anticipate a guest," she muttered, turning away from the bookcase with a false smile. "Because you do intend to snoop, correct?" Here, she dramatically swept out her arm. "They say you can learn quite a bit about a man once you view his book collection. What does all this say about my father?"

"Er - what are you reading?" the man deflected.

Clara hummed. She wasn't overly in tune with epaulets and their meanings, but she was capable of recognizing that this young man was an officer. Chewing her lip, her eyes grew a touch feline as she lifted the tome, then wiggled it about for dramatic effect. "A collection of Shakespeare," she said. "I was about to start a personal favorite: The Taming of the Shrew."

Drawing the book in to rest over her chest, she smirked and slowly stepped forward, her stride measured and deliberate. "Does this mean you're a well-read man, sir? You'll have to forgive the lack of proper address, because I do not know your name and rank -- though I would wager you can at least guess my own." She simpered. "The rank is merely implied, in my case."

[retrograderesemblance]

The woman's doe-like eyes make him convinced she's some upper born lot, but that's before she opens her mouth, "If you are truly so concerned about jewels, sir, perhaps you should protect your own before you find my foot tromping upon your pillock," and she speaks like a cheap harlot. Somehow that makes this easier. Harlots he understands, and an idea is already swirling in his mind like ocean waves and he thinks maybe he can return to the docks without Newgrave stumbling upon him.

"If you're smart, you'll let those get scuffed right so," he nods towards her jewelry, leaning his elbows on the table, "Whoever you nicked 'em from'll be expecting to find something with shine, aye?"

His back to the direction of the tavern where Newgrave's sitting, likely waiting to see if his head bobs above the crowd.

"You soliciting? Could do with a place to lie low for a few hours."

[curseconsumed]

The classless reprobate dared to speak to her again, and she stiffened, sparing him a sharp glance. He likely had a point. If her jewelry garnered more attention from the likes of his lot in life, it would be in her best interest to tuck them away into her pockets. The world beyond ballrooms and social calls didn't seem quite so keen on glitz and splendor.

With a snort, she idly pushed her spoon through her stew -- what was this heinous slop? -- before she heard just precisely what he'd asked.

Dropping her utensil with a clatter, she balled her hands into fists and gritted, "Soliciting? Do I look like some common whore to you?"

The nerve of this man! He was not only infuriating, but far too presumptuous for his own good.

"Could do with a place to lie low for a few hours," he continued.

"Believe me, sir, the only way for you to lie is low, you boot-licking scum," she hissed. "I don't know how men of the underbelly behave, but I can assure you: this is not the way to get into a woman's good graces. Now..." She straightened in her chair. "Unless you have connections to Mayor Mathews himself, I would suggest you lean far, far away from me, lest you end up with my heel in your eye socket."

She wasn't nearly so flexible, but she was quite willing to put her threat to the test.

[retrograderesemblance]

"I asked what your business is here, Mr. Fleming. If you scarcely remember interviewing my father, and he likely won't recall you."

The corner of his mouth quirks, "I never said I interviewed him."

"How is it you managed to weasel your way onto our guest list?"

He lifts a brow, unsure if it's in acknowledgement or remembrance of her asking the question the first time. "I work for Major Andre. He's preoccupied. Asked me to come in his place," exhaling through his nose, smoke swirls in wisps around his face. Perhaps he is being rude to make himself so comfortable, but he doesn't much care for the company at this gala, and he almost wishes someone would ask him to leave.

"Are you always this accommodating a hostess, Miss Boyd?"

[curseconsumed]

"Ah." Clara's expression grew withering. "So, in other words, you're one of those eel types who writes based on a feeling rather than fact. Does that sound about right?"

She had no real love for her father -- not truly -- but his success or failures held the power to maim her sisters, and Clara didn't appreciate any swings at her family that could prove to their detriment.

"I work for Major Andre," Fleming said, recapturing her attention. "He's preoccupied."

"Why?" Clara coolly asked. "Did you write a defamation piece on him, as well?"

Fleming blew a heavy wreath of smoke between them, his eyes almost resembling a shark amidst the fog -- cold, deliberate, predatory.

"Are you always this accommodating a hostess, Miss Boyd?"

Her shoulders stiffened. "I am if I fancy the company," she dismissed. "Are you always such an insufferable cur? You could at least have the sense to grovel like the rest of these noddies." Finally, her lips quirked into a simper. "I'm rather fond of men who realize the benefits of getting on one's knees."

[faithhearted-deactivated2026021]

@curseconsumed

Sneaking into the medical tent and pretending to be a concerned wife of an officer so she could feed was one thing, running into her own kind and finding him treating mortals as patients was another thing entirely. If she weren’t so thirsty, she would almost be impressed by his restraint and dedication. At the moment, however, she was too parched to care about the details. All she wanted was a nice juicy vein to sink her teeth into.

“Now, now. Let’s not do anything hasty, love, lest we make a greater mess of things.”

Victoria’s fangs retract as she closes her mouth, still hovering over the unconscious soldier with intent to feed, even if she’s stalled for the moment. Surely the other v.ampire wouldn’t risk blowing his cover all for the sake of saving one man’s life? Her tone is hushed and soft she won’t risk stirring her impending v.ictim.

“Must be hard, this.” She says, her eyes glancing about the vicinity as she references his current circumstances, “How do you manage to control yourself around so much b.lood?”

[curseconsumed]

Jacob smelled her, felt her, before he ever truly saw the woman enter the medical tent. With his jaw clenched, he continued stitching a barely conscious patient's wound, choosing nonchalance over violence.

Unfortunately, the woman was quick to realize their predicament.

"Now, now," she cooed. "Let's not do anything hasty, love, lest we make a greater mess of thing."

Jacob lifted his eyes, nailing her in place with a chilled scowl while he worked. "I'm not doing anything," he coldly corrected. "Given the rather open audience we presently have, I don't think it wise to be so brash." Here, he inclined his head. "Just beyond that copse of trees is a sentry. Are you truly so keen on making him sound the alarm?"

The woman's fangs retracted, though her intent was still clear. She was far too close to the unconscious soldier for comfort, yet Jacob knew better than to attack.

"Must be hard, this," she remarked. "How do you manage to control yourself around so much blood?"

A tight smile filled his face. "It's surprisingly easy. Human blood sickens me."

This much was true. Much like how a man could develop aversions to certain foods, Jacob had miraculously become repulsed by the scent of human blood. It had not happened overnight -- no, this development was merely within the last year or so -- which meant he'd been in agony for the past seventy years. His overarching theory was he had come rather close to feeling affection for someone, and thus, his curse may have undergone a minor shift.

Finishing up his stitchwork with a snip of his scissors, Jacob regarded her evenly before setting them onto the cot, never quite relinquishing his grip. "I can take you elsewhere, if you're hungry," he offered. His words were not said with generosity. "It's as you said: there is no need to be hasty."

[anoddbunch]

She laughed softly as she slipped her hand into his so that they might be on their way. She was eager to get going anyways, before someone comes around to stall them. She definitely did not want him to change his mind or to have someone come over and question what it was that they were doing.

"I would most enjoy to tell you anything you'd like to know on our way away from these...bumpkins." She gave him something of a teasing smile once they both slipped from the large dance hall. On her way out she her gotten her cloak and was tying it securely across her shoulders. "I'll also have you know that my father won't be so terribly upset about me leaving this way. He barely pays attention to me these days. Or what I do." Especially since he had gotten remarried.

[curseconsumed]

"I suppose we have that in common then," Jacob muttered. "Though in truth, being the 'odd one out' allows a bit of a reprieve, wouldn't you agree? With the world not paying you any mind, all sorts of opportunities arise."

With Katrina's hand on his arm, he guided her deeper into the woods, mindful of keeping her away from the low-hanging, clawing branches.

"Have you ever done any nursing, Miss Van Tassel?" he asked her. "Although the liquor I intend to give the Holloway boy should help subdue him, once I start hacking into his limbs, I will need assistance in keeping him detained." He glanced down at her with an arched brow. "I know you claim interest in the macabre, but there is a stark difference in thought, word, and deed. I cannot afford to have you fainting on the spot. I would hate to besmirch my stellar reputation as a surgeon."

He felt no need to talk down his accomplishments. Jacob was damn good at what he did, but his curiosities often got the better of him -- presently, this girl was serving as an unusual source of interest.

[retrograderesemblance]

@curseconsumed

"Much obliged, ma'am," Bonnet only dares to speak in hushed tones, eyes flickering from the tavern door to the furthest-most table where he can make out the edge of Newgrave's tricorn. It'd been a simple accord at the cards table in sight of everyone, though he couldn't understand why it was so outrageous, his stealing the ring from the pot in the middle and none the wiser until he was half down the main road.

He'd been dealt a shit hand, and he believed it to be as much the dealer's fault rather than fate's.

Tapping a finger impatiently on the mug he's stolen from his faux company, he tilts his head, taking in his unwitting accomplice's appearance, and that's when he sees the earring, the necklace, each new flash of gold what catches his eyes rather than the woman's appearance.

He nearly laughs, wondering if this was fate's plan all along.

"Now what's a pretty thing like you doing with jewels like that in a place like this?" He lifts the stolen drink to his lips.

[curseconsumed]

Breaking away from home was never wise, but it was downright asinine in the dead of night. Still, Clara felt as if she had no choice. Her father had all but kicked her out, and her mother was a spineless, cowering whelp, so she had received no solace from arms that should embrace, rather than repel.

Her foolish actions had drawn her straight to the nearest tavern. She had a small amount of coin -- plenty for room and board, as fate would have it -- but the company was less than pleasant. It was dangerous for a woman to travel alone; unfathomable, even, so she supposed that was why some cur deigned to speak as though they were acquaintances.

"Now what's a pretty thing like you doing with jewels like that in a place like this?"

Her eyes cut toward him in warning, the corner of her mouth barely able to resist from curling in disdain. "My business is none of yours," she coolly replied. "If you are truly so concerned about jewels, sir, perhaps you should protect your own before you find my foot tromping upon your pillock."

Tempted to take her ale and move to another table, Clara grudgingly realized that the other occupants were far greasier, far more slovenly, so with a barely disguised huff, she took another swallow of the watered down beverage and scooched her chair farther to the right.