#oc arity

[brasideios]

‘What happened to that boyfriend of yours?’ Macca said suddenly in that vague way he said everything. ‘I haven’t seen him in ages.’ ‘He got posted.’ ‘Posted?’ ‘Yeah. The Army reassigned him to the eastern states.’ He started cackling. ‘Fuck,’ he said, wiping an eye after a minute. ‘I thought you meant he was sent through the post. Can’t imagine that guy going quietly into a box!’ She had to smile. It was a ridiculous image. ‘He sure wouldn’t.’

#missed snippet sunday #I'm not writing today apparently I'm just staring at what I previously wrote #there's nothing in my head but white noise #apparently four days of numbers and stressing about spreadsheet #has bumped me right out of the creative mood :( #oc Macca #oc Arity #oc Joel #my writing #arity #original fiction

[jovieinramshackle]

Happy pride from Ramshackle!!

🦐 Jess (they/them), 🎀 Jovie (she/they) and, of course, 🐱 Grim!

I find it funny they're both non-binary and bi, hmm I wonder why (I'm projecting)

Some rambling about myself and my identity undercut if you're interested lmao

So this year I found out I’m both bisexual and non-binary, gotta admit that wasn’t in my 2024 bingo list but sure!!!

Okay but for real, it’s weird to realise these things about myself. For years I struggled with my sexuality thinking I wasn’t “bisexual enough” since I tend to be more into guys, but recently realising in reality it was me suppressing my feelings towards women has put a lot of things in my life into perspective. Simply, I was in denial. 

I wish I could say I was simply in denial about my gender too, but unfortunately, that goes much deeper. In simple words, I have dealt with internalised transphobia since I was 13 to 15, I used to carry very harmful beliefs about both binary trans people and non-binary folk. 

Looking back on my life, the signs were there. I always had the feeling that the role of a “girl” didn’t fit me, and the mere idea of growing into a “woman” terrified me. When I found out about non-binary, a part of me connected with it, but my internalised transphobia rejected it and I forced myself into being a “girl. 

I can now say I have grown out of that hate, I’m still working on unlearning my biases and being as accepting as possible, and I’m proud to say I’m far better than how I was 2 years ago. Not everyone in my life knows about my identity, but I'm grateful to those who have been very accepting and supportive. The idea of coming out to my family sounds scary, but I know they love me and want the best for me, I’m certain they’ll be confused once I tell them but I’ll be prepared to help them understand, to understand me.

Happy pride montn, ya’ll are valid. 🌈

tagging: @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk

@cyanide-latte

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst mc #twst ramshackle #twst persona #twst grimm #jovie j. jovinston #jess ariti #truesona #twst fanart #pride month #nonbinary #enby #bisexual #nonbinary pride #transgender #lgbt+ #queer #happy pride 🌈

[aloharyda]

I humbly offer a some butches for lesbian visibility week

Joey is the youngest in their friend group so Sam and Lenny took the mantle of protecting him (even though Joey could throw them both easily)

#my art #oc story: connect the dots dummy #Lenore Ariti #Joey Seon-Flores #Samara last name pending she's very secretive #lesbians #BUTCHES <3

[yamikuruku]

they are both rizzing each other, be careful

#my art #my oc #oc: Karan Ariti #oc: Szeezo #meme redraw #guild wars 2 #guild wars #asura #gw2 #guild wars 2 asura #gw2 art #gw2 oc #meme #art #illustration #drawing #artwork #fan character #original character #own character #queer oc #queer artist #lgbt artist #yamikuruku

[valentine-cafe]

I know nothing about Valerius but can i blow him a kiss❤️Here's to hoping you're both having a wonderful day (or night)!

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ hello darling! hope you're having a great day as well 🩷 how are you?

as for valerius, he would love that. he might be a demon fresh out of the realm of the abhorrent but ooohhhh is he a glutton for affection <3 ꒱

#⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ cookie jar — anon ꒱ #terato #teratophillia #demon x reader #demon oc #monster x reader #monster oc #valerius ariti #asterism

[circadianaa]

birthday gift for my amazing friend and co-writer <33

#arc trooper wishbone #isadora ariti #wishadora #my art #art #circadraws #star wars #tcw #the clone wars #swtcw #star wars the clone wars #clone oc #twi’lek #ocs

[lavampira]

OCKISS23 — DAY 3

prompt: nostalgia [@ockissweek] pairing: original ocs; angel pavon x sebastian ariti [belongs to @consulaaris] word count: 1306

Angel is a fucking coward.

He has no choice but to admit it, as long as he’s been leaning against the seat of his motorcycle, one hand around a drink carrier and the other with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. The fact that he’d already walked to a coffee shop up the street and back again says enough. If he had any sense of shame left, he might feel it now, staring down the imposing building unable to move and seeking more excuses to stall the inevitable.

Seb had dropped a pin to the location in a text, not that he’d needed it. He’s been here plenty of times in the past. But it’s an olive branch of sorts, this wordless invitation to visit him at the recording studio, letting Angel back into this part of his life even after he’d messed things up again. If nothing else, he owes Seb the courage to meet him halfway for taking his sorry ass back. Again.

And if he waits much longer, their drinks will be cold, rendering his peace offering useless.

After a long drag of his cigarette, Angel drops it to the pavement and grinds it under his boot, carefully shifting the carrier while tucking away his key, and finally heads for the door. The front desk seems to be expecting him, immediately directing him to the studio room once he’s given his name.

And then he arrives.

Slipping through the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to disrupt if recording is in progress, he glances around the room. He’s surprised to find that the rest of the band is out for the session. Only the producer and mixer sit huddled at the board, barely deigning to pass a glance in his direction, and Seb stands inside the booth, nodding along at whatever they say to him before he seems to spot him through the window.

“I’m taking a break.”

“You only just started on the track,” the producer calls back, trailing off into a sigh at the futility as Seb walks out of the booth with his perfected charming grin, and points a finger at him. “Not too long, you hear me, Sebastian? We’re finishing this one today.”

Seb brushes him off with a flippant wave of his hand. Despite the dismissal, they all know that he’ll be right back in that booth before long, his music most important to him. But no one can truly stop him when he gets an impulse in his head, and right now that means Angel, the drink carrier in his hand, and the balcony they used to escape to for some time alone.

Not much has changed about it since the last time Angel had visited him at the studio. Possibly more greenery in a narrow box pot, somehow well-kept and flourished despite the usual summer drought, but the view remains the same, overlooking the other downtown buildings and notorious traffic, even in mid-afternoon. He settles to lean against the wall after setting the drinks down on the patio table tucked in the corner, glancing at his boyfriend.

It’s almost painful how good Seb looks. His brown curls are tousled more artfully than he could ever manage himself, and in the sunlight, his freckles are illuminated over his skin as well as the tattoos peeking from the low opening of his shirt. He’s missed the sight. But Seb’s voice pulls him from his train of thought, almost making him feel the hint of embarrassment for openly staring at him. Almost.

“You’re late,” Seb mumbles.

“I closed the bar last night. Slept in.” Angel gestures at the cups on the nearby table. “Stopped for these, too.”

“You hate the coffee there.”

“They had your tea, though. Herbal. Bit of honey. I do remember that’s what you like to drink while recording.”

Seb does reach to take a sip of it then, but pauses to stare at him over its lid. “You’d still have to park and walk up the street. Unless you juggled them on your motorcycle, then your hands are more talented than I knew.”

Lifting a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, Angel glances away from that familiar and piercing green gaze, as if he’ll see right through him to pinpoint all the precise reasons why he’d stalled like a fucking tool. Not that it matters. Seb sets aside his tea and crowds in close to him, albeit tentative and slow like he’s equally as off kilter in the wake of their reunion, and his hand cradles Angel’s stubbled cheek to turn him back to him.

It’s stupid, really. It isn’t the first time that they’ve broken up and gotten back together. Far from it, in fact, and knowing their tumultuous track record, odds are higher that it won’t be the last time. But the guilt of his latest screw-up has been eating away at him, acidic and corrosive in his chest even as Seb forgave him again, and the idea of facing his bandmates and what they might’ve heard about him this time was enough to keep him rooted outside the building.

“I was nervous.”

Seb’s brow furrows at the confession. “Why?”

“Fuck, I don’t know.” Angel runs his tattooed hand through his dyed hair, not caring that he’s tousling it out of place right then. “Maybe because I’m an asshole and you don’t exactly hold back about it when you’re mad at me.”

“But we made up. Multiple times,” Seb adds with a smirk.

Angel huffs a soft laugh, reaching to draw him closer by his hips, and attempts a lazy smirk of his own when he follows suit easily. “I wasn’t sure if your band would be here.”

Realization appears to dawn on Seb then, his face softer but still cautious as he gauges him for something. Possibly because Angel doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of him. And under normal circumstances, he would be right, but it’s different with them. Seb’s band are some of his closest friends. They matter to him, and as a result, their opinion of Angel apparently matters more to him than either of them previously thought.

“Well, fuck that,” Seb says, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard around the quiet words, but he holds his gaze anyway, still cradling his face like he’s actually something special. “You… make me happy. And if I am, then they’ll be happy, too.”

Angel tilts his head, leaning down to him in silent question, his eyes flitting to his lips. That’s all it takes for Seb to shift on his toes to meet him, closing the gap between them hungrily, though it fizzles into something softer as they savor the moment. Words have never been their strong suit, but slipping into this old pattern is an understanding all their own and one that only they know. And when Angel inevitably draws back enough to catch his breath, resting his forehead against him, he drags his hands up his waist to his shoulders until they find purchase cupping his face, too, long fingers brushing the ends of his hair.

“Missed this,” Angel mumbles against his lips, dragging a thumb over his cheek. “Missed you.”

Seb doesn’t answer him, but he doesn’t need to say anything else. It’s simply another thing that they know. This shitty cycle that they put themselves through is a painful one, but it’s theirs, and the fact is that they miss what they have even more when they’re apart, bringing them back to this place every time. It’s confirmed in the way Seb leans into his chest, tucking under his chin with a gentle press of his lips to the rose tattooed on his neck, their drinks ignored on the table, only them falling back into their old habits.

Angel wouldn’t have it any other way.

#dani writes things #ockiss23 #ockissweek #oc: angel pavon #seb ariti #angel/seb #verse: the hollow

[jpdoingart]

I've been thinking about (my OC) Jimmy so much that I had to draw him; but I knew if I drew him, he had to be smiling, and drawing smiling faces is so freakin' hard to me.

For all that, I am quite happy with how this came out. Maybe he looks a little younger than intended (though I've written him young before, so why not) and I haven't tangled with his tattoos. I'll add those when I've decided on exactly what they should be :)

#OC Jimmy #original character #jpdoingart #digital art #arity

[spookywhumping]

Resale Value

This is a direct continuation of the last story, Broken Toy, and a major turning point in Dolly’s story. After the accident that left him severely injured, the Winthrops are keen to get rid of him. Wonder how they’ll go about doing that... Warnings for major injury and more Dolly-typical dehumanization. But hey, it’s not all bad this chapter... probably.

More of Dolly. Other major stories: Intro | Tea Party | Snow Day | Broken Toy

—   —   —   —   —

Dolly wasn’t sure how long he spent trapped in the darkness.

Long enough to realize that he was in a closet. Not Eleanore’s toy closet. A different one, that he didn’t recognize. It was probably still in the Winthrop manor, because he could hear people moving about outside sometimes, including Eleanore and her parents.

But beyond those details, he didn’t know anything. He didn’t know what the Winthrops had planned for him, if they were going to fix his injuries or just leave him in the closet forever.

He knew that everything hurt. Most of the time, he didn’t have space in his mind to know anything else. He couldn’t move his arms or legs without them screaming at him. If he laid on his side it hurt to breathe in, so he spent a while slowly rolling onto his back, inch by inch adjusting his position, trying to do so in the least painful way.

Time passed. The injuries seemed to hurt more. The skin around the painful areas was hot and tight. His arm and leg were stiff and hard to move. Breathing still occasionally hurt, so he tried to breathe shallowly.

His thoughts circled through the same anxious pattern. Denial of his situation (Eleanore wouldn’t let her favorite doll be thrown away), hope that it would change (Maybe he would heal eventually and everything would be fine), fear of his fate when he accepted it wouldn’t (I’m going to die I’m going to die slowly please god just get me out of here I don’t want this), and then... memories. Memories that he hadn’t thought of in ages. It was hard to remember his life before being a doll. Not “hard” as in he struggled to remember, but “hard” as in it made it difficult to suffer through all this when he thought about what used to be.

He wondered, for the first time in a while, if anyone missed him. He hadn’t been on speaking terms with most of his family when he’d been taken. But he had a few casual friends. Mostly people he’d met at college, or coworkers who’d taken the time to invite him to things outside of work. He was never good at approaching people, so he never ended up with more than a small group of people.

That was fine, though. He preferred it that way. He liked doing things alone. Partly out of natural introversion, partly out of a strange arrogance that “nobody else would do it right.” Was that arrogance? Or was it fear? Maybe they were the same thing. In either case, it was that mentality that had driven him to investigate rumors about local disappearances on his own. Despite his boss telling him that this was a matter for police, not journalists, especially not one as new to the business as he was. She’d been right. He was in over his head. If he hadn’t gone out that night, he wouldn’t be dying in some closet right now.

And with that thought, he would inevitably circle back to denial, and the cycle of thoughts would start over again. Occasionally derailed when the pain swelled, returning to where he left off when it faded.

Dolly couldn’t even guess how much time had passed before he finally noticed something different. There were voices outside the closet. He could also see black shadows interrupting the sliver of light that came into the closet beneath the closed door. Footsteps. He tried to focus on what they were doing, tried to listen to what the voices were saying, but he couldn’t concentrate long enough.

Then the closet door opened.

He immediately closed his eyes against the flood of light. After being trapped in near-blackness for so long, it was blinding. Someone sighed. “Well that looks worse than I thought,” said a woman’s voice. Mrs. Winthrop. He heard fabric rustle and felt floorboards shift, and then a cold hand pressed two fingers against his neck. “Good.” The hand withdrew and the floorboards shifted again. “Be careful, we don’t want to cause unnecessary damage. This’ll be difficult enough as it is.”

What will be difficult?! What was happening?! Were the Winthrops going to—going to cut their losses with him? Dump him outside somewhere? Or... do it themselves?

Footsteps, and then hands grabbing at him, pulling him. He gasped and whimpered, but couldn’t find the energy to scream. One of his eyes cracked open, and he saw two of the Winthrop’s servants carrying him, one holding his legs and the other holding him under the arms. Mrs. Winthrop was also there, wearing heavy makeup and an unusually nice red dress. Was she going somewhere?

The servants carried him through the hallways. Pain jolted through his body with every step they took. He saw the hallways in snapshots, like he was watching a slideshow instead of experiencing reality. Before he knew it, they were in the main entrance to the manor.

There were two people waiting. One was Mr. Winthrop, wearing a nice suit. The other was... they looked like a living shadow. It took him a while to process that they weren’t. Instead, the second person was a woman dressed entirely in black, her face covered in a veil.

“Sorry about the delay!” Mrs. Winthrop trilled. “Here it is.”

The veiled woman turned, and Dolly felt her eyes on him. “This is your doll?” Her voice was slightly muffled, but the shock was clear.

Mr. Winthrop cleared his throat. “We did warn you about the damage.”

“And you are not planning on paying for... fixing.. it?” the veiled woman asked.

“No,” Mr. Winthrop said. “But you will recall we’re selling it for a shockingly low price. You should be able to...”

Dolly stopped paying attention to the conversation. He understood what was happening now. The Winthrops were getting rid of him, but they wanted to get something out of it. That fit. That made sense. He wondered if Eleanore knew about this.

“Well, have your people take the doll to my car,” the veiled woman said. “It is unlocked.

“Ah, certainly.” Mrs. Winthrop stepped forward. “Boys, please take the doll out there and put it in our guest’s trunk.”

Silently, the servants moved, and Dolly’s breath hitched as pain raced down his arms and legs. Tears blurred his vision. He tried to look at the veiled woman as they walked past, tried to understand what she wanted with a broken doll. But he couldn’t read anything about her through the veil.

The manor’s front doors opened. He felt sunlight on his face, though once again, the light was blinding and he had to close his eyes for a while. By the time he was able to squint through the brightness, the servants had brought him down to the Winthrops’ long, looping driveway, where a black car was parked. The servant holding his feet awkwardly reached down and opened the trunk. The dark metal box yawned open like a creature’s hungry mouth. Dolly tried not to think about that image as the two servants lowered him into the trunk.

“Wait!”

Tiny footsteps ran across the driveway. Dolly looked up and saw Eleanore peer into the trunk. One of the servants tried to guide her away, but she shoved him back and leaned over Dolly. “Goodbye, Dolly,” she said quietly. “I promise I’ll find you again one day.” She reached in and untied the ribbon around his neck, taking it for herself. And then she was gone.

Dolly shivered. He was almost sorry that she was going. At least he knew what Eleanore wanted.

One of the servants leaned down and mumbled an apology. Then he closed the trunk and Dolly was left alone.

—   —   —   —   —

Dolly jolted awake when the car stopped. Wait, when had he fallen asleep? He couldn’t remember anything after being shut in the car trunk.

He heard the distinct sound of a car door closing. Then some footsteps, and another car door opening. It sounded like whoever was driving had stepped out and... was doing something. He couldn’t tell what. Who was the driver? Was it that woman in the black veil?

His limbs were aching, not only with the same pain as before, but with the discomfort of being curled up in a small metal box. His neck hurt a little, too. It was bent awkwardly to the side. He tried to adjust it, wincing silently.

Some time passed. And then he heard the footsteps again. Coming closer. There was a loud THUNK! and then the trunk opened. The light was a bit duller than earlier, but he still had to squint through it. A figure was lit from behind, leaning down over him. “I am so sorry about that, but I had to play the part,” said a voice. It was... the same voice as the veiled woman. Was this...?

The figure leaned down and slowly picked him up, being careful not to jostle him too much. But even with that gentle touch, he whined at the pain that came with the movement. “I’m so sorry,” the veiled woman whispered. She carried him a short distance, just to the side of the car. The door was still open, revealing the backseat of the car. An inflatable mattress sat on top of the seats, looking custom-made for the space, filling it up entirely.

The woman ducked through the door and gently laid him down on the mattress. She’d removed her veil, and Dolly got his first good look at her. He was mildly surprised to see her face was lined with wrinkles, and her pulled-back hair was a light silvery gray. He wouldn’t have guessed she was this old based on her voice.

Her eyes landed on him. They were a dark brown, nearly black. “Don’t worry,” she said with a gentle smile. “You will be safe now.” She backed out of the doorway, briefly disappearing before returning with something in her hand. “This will hurt a little,” she said. “But don’t worry, I know what I am doing.” She leaned forward, gently grabbing his arm. “You will wake up again,” she continued. “But I think it will be better for you if you sleep through what comes next.”

Something pricked his arm. He gasped. Now he understood. Glancing down, he confirmed his suspicions. The woman had a syringe, and was injecting its contents into his arm, right at the crook of his elbow.

Once the syringe was empty, she pulled it out again, and took a cotton ball and a roll of medical tape out of some unseen pocket. Quickly, she pressed the cotton to the injection site and held it in place with some of the tape. “Not a professional job, but good enough for the moment,” she said with a little chuckle.

Dolly wasn’t sure how to feel about this. The woman was... she was being a lot nicer to him than the Winthrops ever were. But... she had bought him. Why would she be so nice to a new doll she’d just bought? Was this some kind of trick? Or a game?

“I will see you when you wake up,” the woman said, setting his arm down and giving his shoulder a soft pat. And then she was gone. The car door closed. Dolly heard another door open as the woman got into the driver’s seat, then the engine turned on and the car started moving again.

A couple minutes later, Dolly’s head started to swim. His eyelids became heavy. Had the woman drugged him? That must be it. Well... not much he could do about that. So Dolly let his eyes closed. His last thought before he fell asleep was wondering what would happen to him now.

#whump #whump writing #whump oc #whump ocs #major injury #dehumanization #oc tag: dolly #oc tag: eleanore winthrop #oc tag: andrea ariti

[consulaaris]

actually. with respect to this post on oc playlists. i do have one (1) that i’m actually very proud of and it’s seb’s 😌

#oc: sebastian ariti #see it’s because my music taste actually exactly aligns w his vibes for once #it does not for most of my other characters rip

[honeyhueym]

Senior yr on Wednesday…wat….

#wat… #crazy #honeyhueymart #oc trio #original characters #malia natalus ariti #lucian charles #raymus Atticus nyx #Lucian is my bfs oc #tehe

[brasideios]

Snippet Sunday

I wanted to share something a little fluffy this week from Arity...

But first, I suppose I should actually explain what it's about, since I'll be working on and sharing from this project for a while into the future, (with any luck until it's finished 🤞)

It's the story of the titular Arity, who returns to her home suburb after being away for eight years. She moves back in with her grandmother (who raised her) at the Langarrin Lodge, a shabby long-term hotel.

During her absence, she's had two quite difficult relationships (with Joel and Paul) and is actively recovering from those, going to therapy and working through her past in writing - she has aspirations of writing a novel out of it all.

Her return sets off a bunch of boundary-setting and confrontation with her family, especially her bully cousin, Kristy; but thankfully, she also meets and starts a relationship with a new guy, Jimmy. He's like bottled sunshine, which she desperately needs.

Which brings us to this snippet. I've been working mostly on the family plotline this week, but I took a little time out to write some fluffy scenes - because I too needed a break from their shit 😆

Before I opened my eyes the next morning, I laid for a moment, just listening to Jimmy's breathing, feeling at peace, my head entirely empty. When I eventually opened my eyes, I saw he was laying with his back to me; the right-hand side filled with a large, delicately tattooed, tiger’s face. I was tempted to trace the line where the tattoo ended, just to one side of his spine, but instead I shifted closer and kissed the back of his neck. I breathed in the scent of his skin, wrapping my right arm around him.  He mumbled something; all I heard was ‘you.’ After a moment during which I kissed his neck and elsewhere, he looked over his shoulder at me. His dark hair was crazier than usual, sticking up wildly. ‘Good morning,’ he said sleepily. ‘Good morning. You’re remarkably attractive this morning.’ He grinned lazily as he settled onto his back and closed his eyes again, holding his arm out, inviting me in. ‘Catnip.’ I snorted, settling against his shoulder, and sighed happily. After a moment, I asked, ‘What's for breakfast?’ ‘It's not breakfast time yet.’  ‘It’s eight.’ He scoffed. ‘Eight! On a Saturday morning! I can’t possibly get up until nine, at the very earliest.’ ‘Nine!’ I said throwing a hand up to my forehead in feigned distress. ‘I’ll starve before then!' He looked down at me with a grin, and with his free hand, he removed my hand and then touched the side of my face. His expression was soft, and his voice matched. ‘Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ll give you something else to think about.’ I snorted, but as it transpired, he wasn’t wrong.

#Arity #oc Jimmy #oc Arity #snippet sunday #original fiction #novel writing #jpdoingwords

[jovieinramshackle]

Glorious Masquerade haha amirite (huge brain rot that event killed me Rollo kiLED ME-)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland art #twst fanart #glorious masquerade #jovie's art #Jess Ariti

[beastsoulart]

My bday is tomorrow, send asks about my OCs! Might be able to doodle some responses! 🖤

(each of these characters have partner that belongs to my buddy @smogteeth!)

Ryo Sano - Oni, hot headed but with a big heart, likes to piss people off and get into fights for fun, specifically with other men/monsters

Dawn Ariti Hansen - Half-dryad half-human wicca that specializes as a hedge witch and field nurse, has a love for all things inhuman and has even fostered some critters! Also has a gourd harvest spirit named Peter as a familiar (named after peter peter pumpkin eater)

Colin Williams - Incubus, sweet emo boy formerly worked at an all-inclusive body positive strip club run by succubus who'd feed off the lust of their patrons, now owns his own tattoo parlor

Nat (Natalie) McKenna - Succubus, former coworker and close friend to Colin, the most extroverted character I have, young at heart and life of the party, good at bringing others together

Aleister and Sebastián Crane - Vampires, brothers that spite eachother, Aleister being more black market business-oriented owning his own lounge where he houses his clan, Sebastián simply enjoys causing chaos and manipulating others to his liking

I have MANY more characters floating around in my noggin, but so far these babes are the most developed!

#ask me #i love my ocs so much #oc artist #oc #ocs #my ocs #monster #artists on tumblr #creature design #horror #horror art #monster art #original character #character art

[yamikuruku]

Szeezo got the rizz 😎

#my art #oc: Karan Ariti #oc: Szeezo #i am completely normal about those two #asura #gw2 asura #my oc #gw2 human #gw2 #gw2 oc #gw2 art #guild wars 2 #artwork #oc couple #guild wars oc #guild wars art #meme #meme redraw #meme drawing #aetherblade #digital artist #digital art #original character #digital artwork #fan character #fanart #own character #lgbt oc #queer oc #queer artist

[circadianaa]

the ariti family in 1aby!

lots of lore and closeups below ⬇️

after order 66, wishbone is rescued from the empire and has her chip removed by the combined efforts of knucklehead, isadora, scout. the four escape from coruscant with no plan and not a single credit to their names. since isadora’s parents were rylothian refugees and she never got to see their home planet, that’s where she wants to head first.

they settle for a bit, not planning to stay for too long, and dora does some searching around, trying to find relatives. she can’t find anyone close to her in relation because of how badly her clan’s population was decimated by the war on ryloth. however, she does find a very distant cousin who recently died and left two little girls behind and she’s like “well shit” and wishbone suggests that they take them in for a bit, just until they can get something figured out (because at this point their plan would still be to travel the galaxy) but then oops shit the moms switches are instantly activated and they end up adopting the girls.

the girls (zohra, 2, and irsia, a few months) are traumatized by the loss of their parent and they struggle to acclimate to life with wishbone, dora, knuckles, and scout, but wishbone and dora are with them every step of the way and let them process it in their own time. wishbone understands better than most how strongly the loss of family can affect someone. it takes time but they bond and become incredibly close.

the youngest comes along a while later. she’s not related to isadora, but she was a baby in need of a home and struggled finding someone who would take her in because she was half-human. they adopt her as well and name her melina—which means “little honey” or “honeybee” in isadora’s culture—after saccharine, wishbone’s first adopted daughter who died after order 66.

it’s tumultuous and hard at times, but really settle into their lives on ryloth. it’s not perfect but it’s home to them, and it’s everything they need <3

#arc trooper wishbone #cortex squad #isadora ariti #wishadora #clone trooper knucklehead #clone trooper scout #my art #art #circadraws #star wars the clone wars #star wars #the clone wars #swtcw #sw #tcw #zohra ariti #irsia ariti #melina ariti #oc refs