Hello! Like the title says, I’m hosting a contest where your OCs interact with mine! To keep from creating a wall of text, I’ll lay out the rules quickly under the cut and then link to their bios with refs.
The prize will be a writing of about 2-3k in a fandom that I know- probably Hellaverse, but if you’re interested in something else I know (like IZ or Sonic) I’d be fine with that too. (Example fics of about that length.)
Deadline is April 30th, but if need be I can extend it a bit, I’ll see how it goes.
If you have any questions, just ask!
RULES:
-Either submit directly to me or @ me. If I haven’t posted/reblogged it within a day, feel free to send an ask or DM to be sure I didn’t miss it/tumblr didn’t eat it. Submitting a link to twitter or something is fine, I just want to collect them all here for ease and I may repost the entry in the post just to avoid the link breaking, although I will leave a link to your account/the post to keep the source intact.
-It has to be entirely your own work- please don’t edit or trace somebody else’s art and submit as your own.
-Art or fic are both accepted!
-General OCs or other fankids are welcome, whether they’re from Helluva, Hazbin, original, or something else entirely. Kids from ‘conflicting ships’ (like Blitz/Fizz or Alastor ships) are fine as long as they’re not used as an excuse to ship-bash. ‘Siblings/half-siblings’ would be fun!
-Canon characters can be included as well if you’d like, but at least one OC, please.
-Shipping is fine, get creative!
-Just in case anybody wants to, NSFW is okay, just use reasonable judgement with anything extreme if I haven’t expressed interest myself. Feel free to ask if you’re unsure about something.
-You can redesign clothes if you’d like to make them ‘match’ your oc better or you just want to play dress-up.
Due to the fact the organizer is a supplier is from a winemaker family... the initially work meeting switched into drinking, eating, playing and gambling after they went over all of the important points.
Faybon had a problem, he was seriously starting to get restless the longer he stayed in this strange place. Bunnyx had said this would be a place he could be himself but he felt more of an outsider here then he ever did with his friends. Sure it was weird associating the name Felix with someone kind and helpful, and even if Tamotsu seemed unapproachable Caleb was more than friendly enough to make up for it.
None of that changed the fact that all three were capable of things Faybon never dreamed of, reality itself seemed to bend to their will in ways that would exhaust any with a miraculous. Of course that seemed to apply more to the other two than it did Felix, but from what the older man said was possible by others in his world? Was terrifying. There were people who could casually end the world in both his and Tamotsu's world while it took the fully unleashed power of two gods to do it in Faybons. The sheer scale of the power difference was just something the french teen couldn't handle.
That's how Caleb found him, staring at the spot Bunnyx had opened the burrow and dropped him off. "You know, you're not the first person who's felt out of place here." The ageless wizard said calmly.
"Oh yeah? What happened to them?" Came Faybons bland question.
"They left." Upon seeing the surprise on his face Caleb just shrugged. "You're not the first person who has come here, probably won't be the last either." He explained. "There have been countless all feeling lost and out of place, like their stories don't have a purpose anymore."
"I'm assuming since I haven't met any of them that means they did manage to leave?"
"Yep."
When it didn't seem like there was an elaboration coming Faybon sighed. "How?"
"They chose to. Those with powers used them to return and those without? Well, once they accepted the problem they were battling with, kind of faded away." Caleb simply shrugged again. "This place is kind of... Between worlds. It's like a nexus point or something Felix calls a land between. A limbo where those lost go until they're ready to continue."
Faybon blinked rapidly in shock. "Wait, then why do the three of you stay?"
Another shrug. "Same reason really. To help those who come here. All of us have faced the pain of our own worlds, countless violence and other horrors." He looked away for a moment, as if remembering something, before continuing. "As far as each of us are concerned our stories are over, the ones we fought for are happy yet we're still here. We got our ending so we're not sure why we're still hanging around but, while we are? May as well help."
"I see..." Faybom muttered as he looked back at the wall. "So then... What kind of problems did the others deal with? Before they returned I mean."
Caleb chuckled. "Well, there were two common themes. One was not feeling necessary."
"And the other?" Faybon was getting annoyed at having to constantly prompt the other man.
In response Caleb just laughed and walked away. "What can I say, we get a lot of teens upset that they'll never get the girl. If you want to go home, just figure out which is you."
Faybon glared, he knew what his issue with his world was. That didn't stop his cheeks turning red though.
So, for their prize, NGoetia wanted a sort of redux of their writing for the contest. Here’s my take!
Let it never be said that life in Hell was dull. Hectic, sure. Repetitive, sometimes- the sinners often played out the same battles over and over, stuck in the same patterns for eternity like a glitching videotape. But dull? That was about as far from reality as ice’s chance of surviving the eternal fires.
Sometimes it was fun, watching the chaos unfold with a cup of boba and a phone up to see if she could catch anybody making funny faces when their faces got pounded in, but on rare occasions, it twisted up her guts and made her want to puke.
Today fit in the latter category.
The TVs blared on with some story that she barely paid attention to as she passed by an electronics shop draped in teal that had Vox’s grimy fingerprints all over it- Killjoy’s voice was like knives on a chalkboard anyway, and scrolling through the digital display of the new selections at Stylish was way more important. Besides, she wanted to get to the food court before it closed, and that meant knowing what was on the shelves before she got there.
Unfortunately, one of Pentious’s giant airships had taken out a good two city blocks that were directly on the path to the mall. Scavengers were trying to root out the smoking parts, but she wasn’t much of a mechanic- most of the actual juicy stuff would be deep in the belly of the beast, and she wasn’t really in the mood for digging around in oil-stained machinery that could explode at any second. Junkers would be fighting each other anyway, and that would be more of a mess than it was worth. The long way it was, then! If she took it at a jog, she could still make it with plenty of time to snag a big pretzel.
After twenty years, she knew a good chunk of the back alleys of Pride fairly well. The graffiti got painted over with other graffiti and the weaker buildings got destroyed in Exterminations or territory squabbles, but the general shapes stayed the same, and she had a pretty good memory for locations. Flies buzzed, neon fizzled, and a creak sounded from ahead as she trailed her fingers over a poster of the Radio Demon that had Xs scribbled over the eyes and a tongue sticking out. After a moment, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. Al might find it kind of funny.
As she passed a dumpster that smelled slightly more like rotting meat than usual, a prickle dripped down her spine like ice, and she examined another piece of graffiti- this time one of Lucifer as a clown. It was an attempt to be inconspicuous as her eyes darted around for threats, trying to assuage the sudden unease twirling at her guts like spaghetti. A beat, two, three. Nothing. Maybe it was just the air back here, but… She glanced down at her phone to pull up her father’s number to call him quickly if the need arose- before that prickle in her neck turned into a sharp sting, and one hand slapped on instinct- driving something further into the flesh.
Stella plucked it back out and stared at the feathered dart before everything swirled together into a blur of red and black and her face hit the grimy ground, phone slipping out of her hand. The last thing she saw was a foot stepping on it and fracturing the screen, sparks spitting out, before there was nothing at all.
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When she awoke, she was tied up and sitting in something that was moving- the subtle movements were unmistakable as her body shifted side to side. Her hands were tied behind her back, her feet were tied to the chair, and a rubber gag had been stuffed in her mouth- likely both to shut her up and to keep her from biting some heads off.
“Awake already? And here I thought I’d get some more blackmail pictures of you drooling over that gag. You’d almost be pretty if you weren’t an abomination. I just might sell some of the feathers on the black market, some fetish freaks would pay a pretty penny for them.” The voice was growled out with a slight hiss, like they’d lost a few teeth in a bar fight and the air was whistling through the gaps. A light flickered on to show the inside of a van. Several demons were gathered around her, all in circular masks that only left their eyes exposed and a thin slit for the mouth.
“Mmph!”
“Don’t try to talk, we’re not interested in anything but your brains splattered against that wall over there.” He nodded behind her, and she immediately started squirming in her bonds, trying to work her hands or feet out. “It’s a mercy, freak, don’t be difficult about this.”
Mercy, like hell! Most magic strong enough to pack a punch required having at least one hand free, and she sucked in a breath as the thug that had talked traced a knife along the side of her neck before setting the blade on the throat. “Or maybe we can just slit your throat first and watch you bleed out before shooting you right before you pass out, that might be more entertaining to watch. What do you think, boys?”
“Either’s good with us! I just wanna see her in pieces!” One of them chirped, and Stella would have glared, except the knife directly against her neck was far more pressing than some mindless lackeys being uncomfortably cheery. Hell, she herself often cracked jokes on jobs, but it wasn’t nearly as funny on the other side of things. Her tail slid down, trying to work the rope out from between her feet, but one of the thugs shot at it, getting another muffled yelp and a chorus of laughter.
“Nice try, freak. Too bad you don’t have your pathetic little daddies here, huh? They’ll only see your corpse strung up when it hits the news.”
She narrowed her eyes even as her heart nearly beat out of her chest, glaring at him while the knife pressed tighter to her neck. A single drop of glittering black blood oozed over the blade before a BANG shook the car, throwing the thug, thank satan, backwards instead of forwards. Even so, she nearly puked at the sudden motion, whirling her head all the way around to see that the driver had a bleeding stump instead of a head.
Well.
That was either fantastic or about to lead to them crashing into and dying in a spectacular explosion.
One of the masked kidnappers lunged for the driver’s seat, letting out a series of colorful swears and a few slurs before his throat went the same way as his friend’s head, blood spraying against the wheel as the van continued to veer back and forth and the back door ripped open. In the moments it took to blink the sudden bright light out of her eyes, three more shots rang out, one of which must have hit something on the dash because the wild veering from side to stop had slowed.
Unfortunately, one of them had fumbled for a gun and braced it against her head.
“Whatever the fuck you are, if you don’t show yourself, she gets it!”
The frantic beating in her chest forced another dribble of blood out of the cut in her throat, and she could feel the barrel pressing against the side of her temple before falling as they, too, were taken out. This time, however, she could see the one who had done it- a tall owl, probably around her height when standing, had fingers rapidly tightening around their throat. They clawed at his arm before a snap echoed around the van, suddenly silent but for her breathing. Lungs pumped as her puffs remained frantic around the gag. The owl turned to her, a knife glinting in his grip.
If he just wanted to take her for himself… She tried to rock in the chair, but it was still as bolted to the floor as it had been a minute ago, and when he knelt down, she curled up the talons on her feet, staring down at the blonde patch on his head.
The knife sliced through the rope, then the owl shifted around her to slide between her hands as well. Stella reached up to pull the gag out of her mouth. “Pretty sure this was bought from that one place that got burnt down for putting lead in the paint of their toys. That’d suck to survive the execution squad and go down with poisoning.” She was still shaking as the man looked her over, and she squeezed the saliva-coated gag in her palm just to have something to focus on before dropping it. His black jacket and purple shirt were splattered with blood, and he stared down at her for a moment before she stood up on wobbly legs.
“Are you hurt?” She’d expected a bit gruffer of a voice than what actually came out. Other than the mortal terror and the pretty minor neck-slicing, the worst she felt was some heart palpitations and rope chafe, so she shook her head.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Good. Do you have a phone?”
She shook her head again, nodding vaguely behind her. “It slipped out right before they got me, but it got destroyed, so at least they couldn’t use it.”
“Hmm.” He thought on that for a moment. “This isn’t safe here. I guess I can stick with you until we get you back home, is that okay?”
Considering he’d saved her from considerable brain-splatter and she didn’t entirely trust her legs at the moment, she nodded.
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
He tilted his head, scanning her up and down, and her cheek twitched as he held out a hand.
“It’s Stellaluna, right? Prince Stolas’s kid?”
“Yeah.” She’d only been ‘out’ as royalty officially for a few years, but it still drove an excited shiver up her spine every time she was allowed to say it.
(The matted blood drying on her chest told her exactly why they’d been cautious, though, and she swallowed back bile. Next time, she’d be more careful. Next time, they’d regret being born. She should have known better, kept her guard up.)
“Thought so, you looked like what I remembered of her.” He nodded to the side, and she took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. Her fingers flexed in and out with the comforting thump-thump of a friendly heartbeat as soon as he let go, having felt his pulse for just a brief moment.
The shakes evened out a bit as they walked, making their way back into the open and down the street. Blood-splattered strangers weren’t all that strange in Pride with how often brawls broke out, so the few wayward glances thrown their way were quickly dismissed with a sharp glare from either of them. It felt good to intimidate someone right now.
There was a bit of chit-chat to help soothe over the silence- or at least, as silent as it ever got around here. She found out some more about the stranger- his name (Erick) and the fact that he had just as much appreciation for a good kill as she did, considering they were both assassins. He’d proven his skills already considering he hadn’t rolled the van when shooting the driver, or let her get killed by a stray shot when the others were panicking as they got taken out one by one.
“So… you disgraced royalty too?” She plucked a red feather out of her hair, rolling it between her fingers just to feel the soft vanes, and his mouth quirked up in a slight smile.
“Nope.”
She tilted her head, waiting, before raising an eyebrow.
“So... not to be too nosy considering I don’t even have one, but if you aren’t royalty, what are you? I don’t see a lot of other owls around Pride that aren’t either sinners or like Papa.”
His mouth twitched a little into the ghost of a smile. ”I had a pair of real shitty parents that threw me out when I was little. You name it, if it was crummy to do to a kid, they did it. You learn a lot on the streets, more than I ever would have gotten out of them, and then, one year during the sweep...” He traced a finger along his neck, and she got the picture. Exterminations were generally spent inside a bunker, but she’d seen the carnage that was laid bare on the streets the morning after. Even for a hardened killer, the smell alone stuck with you, and the fact that she was still soaked in sticky blood helped bring to mind a very vivid image.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Meh, I’m over it, it was ages ago and it wasn’t like there was much good in them anyway considering they used to treat me like a chew toy. It’s no more than they deserved.” He shrugged. “I make more money now than their doped-up asses could have ever dreamed of.”
Honestly, she was glad that it was alright to just drop her at the palace now that everyone knew who she was- it would have felt a little awkward trying to give directions to the apartment without trying to explain why she’d been kidnapped. (That is, assuming she couldn’t spin some tall tale- normally it wouldn’t have been a problem, but she was still a little twitchy and didn’t trust her acting chops as much as usual.)
“Thanks again. Maybe we could meet sometime?” She squeezed the familiar metal of the gate.
“We might.” He paused, as if thinking for a moment. “I’m planning to leave all this behind soon. Maybe you could put in a good word with your father, if it’s no trouble? I wouldn’t mind a job with a prince, and he seems like a decent guy.”
She nodded. “Oh, no yeah, problem. It’s the least I could do. For now, I’ve gotta clean this gunk off.” She wrung out her hair-feathers, blood oozing down them with some of the crustier bits flaking off and fluttering to the ground.
“Hey, I would think you would know how to deal with gore- birds of a feather stick together, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve got some good shampoo that helps dissolve all kinds of stuff, it’ll make short work of this.” She nodded. “See you around?”
He nodded, heading off, and she watched him go before turning and double-locking the gate. She wasn’t taking any chances tonight.
My entry for the OC Meetup contest, apologies for the delay! (also I hope the image will load)
Stella’s meeting a couple of half-siblings from another AU (or UA, perhaps): the conjoined twins Bolt and Volt, Wisp the dark imp and the youngest of the bunch, Tempest (nicknamed Tem most of the time). They’re test-tube babies, so Blitzo wasn’t aware of their existence until a while later, but he bust them out as soon as he found out. (well he was contacted by a researcher who was worried over Tem’s declining health and they didn’t realize that Blitzo was going to go “are they all my kids? Well they’re coming with me. No fuck you, they’re mine.”)
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Shadow: Ohmygosh they’re adorable, aaaaa! How Stella is crouched down and talking to the twins and the expressions on Wisp and Tem’s faces are great, this is awesome!
My entry for the oc contest! Cousin Neph trying to convince Stella that borrowing her daddy’s grimoire so they can see some pretty earth clouds is a good idea 🥺👉👈
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Shadow: Well, that sounds like a compelling idea to her, she’ll see if they switched the combination to the safe since last time, she wants to see pretty clouds!
