A piece of yourself is missing. Lost and tired, you find yourself wandering in search of it. But time has stolen too many things from your fragile soul and still attempts to cling to your ankle with every step.
The darkness is vast, and the light is dim. This existence is too painful. Reality is too cruel. Perhaps tomorrow does not need to be.
But from the storm emerges a figure, glowing gently among the chaos. Her skin is pale, her form translucent. You can clearly tell that she is not from this world, but the next. And yet she smiles at you, warm and inviting, and offers a hand. One that has never been outstretched to you before. One that promises a better tomorrow.
"Thinking about the end? I wouldn't recommend it. Death is terribly boring after the initial shock."
Greetings! Reality is a cruel place, isn't it? With all that goes on in the world, I don't blame you for feeling so hopeless. I've been there myself, and... well, you can see where that led me. That being said, I'm here to offer a better alternative to succumbing to the weight of this world like I once did.
Join me instead in a world of my own. Here in the Void, you can forget about your troubles and escape the clutches of Reality for as long as you'd like. You're welcome to visit anytime.
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Basically:
I'm an artist and aspiring author
I draw my OCs! Sometimes I write about them
If you're interested in just having a fun time looking at/reading about my characters, feel free to stick around!
I will use my persona's voice for the majority of posts that involve my own work, and my natural voice for miscellaneous content
For context, @marwah0124 has me, our friends, and my OCs in her Tomodachi Life Living the Dream world. @cin-midnight once asked for a seesaw and was rejected. Charcoal asked for one later in the same spot, and this was the result.
What happens when too many humans turn to the company of Demons in this world? After welcoming new guests to his palace in the Underworld, King Zyrel is confronted by a Guardian Angel, who speaks of concerns regarding the activities of those she watches over.
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"King Zyrel."
The name isn't what sends the unpleasant chill through the fiery depths of his throne room. It's the owner, with a voice that grates on his ears and echoes too loudly, a ringing so strong it almost—almost—brings him to his knees. His subjects would have fallen, but he must not, for what is he if not their king?
"…Lady Elizabeth." The name tastes like poison. It spills from his lips like a curse. This being is not welcome, not in his Realm. The Divine are not often seen, and so too bright for eyes that only know depravity and eternal darkness. But she does not falter, nor does she sneer in return. It's infuriating, really, how calm she seems in his presence when he is all but burning under the divine light. "What... business do you have here?"
He tries to be cordial. Truly. It's hard. She knows this.
"I have... concerns." She speaks plainly. Perhaps she does not wish to be down here with him as much as he wishes to shrink back from her. "One of our Recordkeepers has brought back a report that troubles us so."
"If this is about the humans, you should know that I have no say in what they do, nor who they choose to visit." His voice is clipped, but a rare smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. For as prim and proper as he may be, no demon can resist the temptation of Pride. “It’s no fault of mine that they prefer the company of demons to the likes of you.”
“You—” The angel’s wings curl inwards, as though to shield herself from his words. “You lie and deceive…!”
“Do I?” He drums his fingers along the golden arm of his throne. Traces the delicate trim with sharp claws. “Ask any one of them. How often do they visit your Realm, dear angel?” Again, Pride claws at his chest with a wicked laugh. His golden eye gleams with it.
Her features twist. Were she a demon like him, it would be a scowl. Instead, her expression is wounded. “That is none of your concern.” He shouldn't be enjoying this. Her voice echoes too loudly and her light hurts his eyes, and yet he finds himself smiling still, relishing in the ruffling of her gold-tipped feathers. “And that is not why I am here.”
“Get to the point, then.”
“For many years I have watched over the Creator’s guests. And for many years I have turned a blind eye to their endeavors. I am in no position to pass Judgement. But this… this concerns me.” The worry in her tone… it irritates him. More than he'd like to admit. More than he expected it to. Though he does not know why.
He hums, propping his chin into his waiting hand, his sharp gaze piercing. “Why now? Surely you would be used to our successful corruption after all these years.” His fingers deftly slip over his lips before the smile can return too quickly. It’s not often he can get under skin like this.
“None of them had ever taken interest in you.”
His reaction is instant; the grin fades.
“…That's a lie.” There was one, once. A long time ago. Fleeting. He was one of many to catch their wandering eyes. Jealousy didn't have enough time to settle in.
“It is not the same.” She clasps her hands at her front, lowering her head. “Loyalty had not been considered.”
“What do you wish to tell me, then?” He moves to stand, his voice dropping low. “That you will try to stop them?”
The flash in her eyes betrays her. “I—”
“Go ahead and try,” he spits, wings flaring wide behind him. Taller. Bigger. Stronger. “Leave my palace and my Realm at once. Know that I am not above spilling Divine blood.” His left eye burns, his vision red.
“Surely you will not start war over something so trivial—”
“Not war. I am no fool.” He steps forward, an echoing click of his heel. “The humans will do as they please. And if one dares to brave the Sins of Lust and Greed for me, then who am I to turn them away? I will gladly take them. Break them, if only to spite you and your kind.”
“You wouldn't dare—”
“I would.” His glare is molten, but his smirk is ice. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
“It is not—I wish to protect them!”
“By asking a demon to resist Temptation? You’d have better odds killing me.” He raises his hand. The guards at the door draw their spears, aim them true. “I will not ask again. Return to your Realm, or these walls will be painted gold with your blood.”
It's a long moment before she finally sighs. The room is engulfed in the blinding light, and when it clears, she is gone.
Zyrel returns to his throne with a sharp turn, signaling his guards to stand down once more. He sinks into the golden seat with a huff, crossing his legs.
The Angels have taken notice; with every human that strays from their righteous path, the Demons grow stronger—while they grow desperate.
In his desperation to save his younger sister, Flint gave up the one part of himself that she needed most.
What happened to the brother she used to love? The one who used to smile and laugh, who untangled the mess of life when she couldn’t make sense of the world? That version of him, the rock to cling to in her raging ocean, is slowly fading, and now there’s no going back to the way things were.
i do not “delete sentences” when they start “hindering the plot” i COPY PASTE THEM into a SEPARATE DOC made just for keeping all my USELESS LINES that i will also NEVER USE so therefore i should JUST DELETE THEM but i DONT because id FEEL BAD if i did
Dragons self domesticated a few centuries ago and you come home to find one of these scaly firespitters on your bed. But you don't own a dragon or atleast you didn't own one until now. Congratulations you have been selected by the dragon distribution system!
I was used to dealing with the occasional stray. They liked to use the rafters as temporary perches until they broke under the weight, and often dug out hoards under porches in the winter, when the snow piled high around the entrances of dens. At least in my neighborhood, the rich and snobby, not everyone was too keen on keeping the overgrown lizards as pets. They were too destructive, too antsy, always sticking their giant snouts into everyone's business—and don't even get me started on all the expensive furniture they wouldn't dare risk getting gnawed on. At most, they'd tolerate leaving food for them in the hopes of keeping them away from their fancy gardens.
And when that didn't work, they came to me. My family had moved here just a few months ago, and it didn't take long for the neighbors to figure out my rank among our class. As a Beast Tamer, my job was quickly established as shooing the dragons out of their yards. It was easy enough, what with my natural connection to magical fauna and all, but after chasing the third baby firespitter out from under a porch on a Thursday afternoon, you start to get a little irritated with the things. Or the people too stuck-up to deal with 'em themselves. Hard to say.
Because those things can get mean if you catch them off guard. They're armed with teeth and claws and horns twice the size of your head, with fully muscled tails that could do just as much damage as any of their other weapons. And of course, to top it all off, the b*stards breathe fire.
Needless to say, I was fine with getting them out of the occasional yard for good money. But owning one myself? No thanks.
So you can imagine my surprise when I came home from 'work' to find something moving under a tangle of sheets, and my dog curled up in the corner scared for his tiny little life.
My ears flicked in annoyance; just great. I had to deal with whatever creature had decided to wander into my house, and I wouldn't even be getting paid for it.
I thought about calling for my mom, but figured shouting across the house would startle it into running—or worse, flying. My room wasn't small, by any means, but I had too many awards lining the high shelves that I did not want to fall and break. So I used my own training instead.
Fingers grazing over the emerald at my collar, I tried to calm myself enough to focus as I called upon my family's magic. Though I couldn't tell what it was at first, making the language barrier harder to cross, creatures of all kinds did best with careful, non-threatening movements and tone.
"Easy there, little one." I kept my voice low and gentle as I took a few cautious steps forward, slowly reaching for the writhing blanket. It seemed to calm down a bit under my influence, no longer thrashing wildly. When I was close enough, I grasped at the fabric and swept it clean off in one tug.
There it sat, the little rascal, viridian green scales rising and falling in frantic breaths, wings pinned against its sides and tail curled tight around its legs. It was a pretty sharp-looking breed, with keeled scales and multiple sets of horns; one on each temple that swept back in layered spikes, another just below those that curved like a ram's, and one at the tip of its snout that had already torn holes in my sheets.
Wonderful.
It stared at me with its bright pink eyes, the pupils thin slits; wary and cautious, but still curious. Enough to warble at me, a throaty sound that sent my terrified corgi scampering out of the room. With the species confirmed, I could bridge the gap between communication.
"Comfy. Warm. Mine."
I pursed my lips.
"I can't keep you," I tried to explain, but it didn't seem interested in listening. Once it seemed to understand that I wasn't a threat, it promptly laid back down and curled up like it owned the place. I could feel my ears twitching again. This little—
No matter how many times I tried to kick it out, the dumb reptile kept finding its way back inside and finding new perches. My bed, the couch, the fridge—nothing was off-limits, apparently. And unfortunately for me, my parents were not of the snobby rich variety. I'm pretty sure the reason it kept coming back was because they kept feeding it behind my back.
So eventually, I just gave up. His name is Viridi now, and he is no longer small.
I have to admit, riding to school on the back of a dragon does have its perks.
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Unfortunately, I don’t quite know how to draw dragons. But here’s Maddy 💚
"No matter what happens, I'll always stand up for what's right."
Winter, of light and ice; the gentle leader with a heart of gold. She prefers kind words over cruel fists.
"I can't afford to rest if people are still out there dying."
Mist, of water and air; the Guardian Angel and second-in-command. Her approach is to fight first, ask questions later.
"They won't be able to call me a curse once the world sees me as a hero."
Obsidian, of darkness and earth; the Dark Angel. The world had not been kind to his young self, deeming his abilities a curse upon their peaceful city.
"Being a hero is harder than the comics make it out to be."
Flamespark, of fire and lightning; the Hero of Destruction. His elements, vicious by nature, have yet to be honed.
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*These sketches are mildly outdated, as their designs have been slightly altered since drawing them
