extremely crossover & oc friendly. This character is heavily inspired by attack on titan, but I’ve made some adjustments for the sake of flexibility. This blog will have a fandomless sway.
extremely triggering subject matter such as but not limited to: gore & cannibalism, toxicity, sexism, obsession, uncontrollable desire, and themes of prior abuse. All will be tagged as they appear.
No drama or bullshit will be tolerated ooc. I’m super friendly and bubbly! But I do block freely, and I will not engage with anything that isn’t our blorbos or a genuine issue.
I always welcome communication. I will immediately confront you if I think there’s an issue. If you have a problem with me or something in the thread, just tell me! We can always figure misunderstandings out!
I am a very literate/multipara rper. You don’t have to match length by any means! But I do need something to work with. I will not respond to one liners or tiny paragraphs unless they’re crack threads.
Feel free to do whatever you want to my character. I don’t allow godmodding (tho I’d be happy to plot that out!), but you’re more than welcome to beat him up. Beware that he can & will turn into a titan to defend himself.
I take forever!! I am a SNAIL. I am usually focused on art and stuff offline, so my spoons are scattered. If I take forever to respond to a thread, message, reply, etc. it’s me not you! I will always politely communicate right away if I ever have an issue <3
That being said I always encourage ooc chat. It makes getting into the interactions a lot more engaging!! I’ll warn that I’m pretty enthusiastic in the dms.
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✏️ - Why did you choose to write your muse(s)?
😍 - Do you have a specific character type that you usually find applies to your favorites?
💡 - Are there any plots/ideas you really want to write?
Meme.
I’ve never explored a character that is just so deeply disturbed as a result of their upbringing. A lot of the characters I’ve written in the past were “bad people” but still clung to a moral compass that’s on par with my own because I was too anxious to write out their darker nature. This character teeters on the brink of what I’d consider acceptable (for myself) to write out, and I’m trying hard to push beyond my comfort level. I spent way too long limiting my writing by being a puritan with my characters, and I was much more focused on them being likable blorbos. Not so much anymore! That’s probably why I ended up abandoning all those characters in the long run 💀
I think that I always end up making a depressed asf tired (usually burly) character. I’m not sure why I’m so drawn to scrappy men that carry themselves as if there’s the weight of the world on their shoulders. I am really into characters that have layers of complexity to them and are portrayed with a high degree of realism, and I love grabbing them and throwing these complex, realistic characters into completely insanely fantastical scenarios. that’s why I enjoyed attack on titan sm!
Man there’s tons of plots and ideas I want to try and write! Here’s like a fragment:
I will always love a plot that involves one muse protecting the other from any sort of aggressor, and it becomes extra fun if the characters previously didn’t like each other. It’s super fun if that event makes things very complicated between them, and they end up slowly unwinding their hostilities.
There’s plots where muses are magically bound to one another through some sort of pact, whether it be mutual or otherwise. I’ve always been a sucker for stuff like that, especially when the two characters have a strained relationship with one another at first.
For Cormac specifically, I’d love a plot where he gets to meet a woman (or ?? any gender tbh. he firmly believes he’s only attracted to women, but his eyes wander) that he thinks is just downright gorgeous. He becomes incredibly obsessive over the first person who is unlucky enough to catch his eye, and he struggles so so much with trying to communicate in a way that isn’t freaking weird! I’ve never written a character like this ever, so it’s going to be an interesting journey for me.
I’ve also only ever had really strong muses until these past couple years, so now I’m experimenting with someone who is entirely unskilled in self defense (or any type of fighting, for that matter). While he can turn into a powerful titan, it is very slow, its armor is brittle, and he has no clue that he needs to defend its vital point. He could be cut down and killed with ease by someone who is aware of Titan anatomy. I want someone to just completely ratio him- just beat the crap out of him, lol.
He stops, the earth beneath his massive feet heaving to the bulk of his heels. A languid, opaque gaze trails the streak of red plumes unfurling high into the air, and it takes a moment of stillness to process what he was seeing. That’s not… smoke, surely? It couldn’t be, because he’s never seen red smoke before.
Squints.
Movement within his peripheral snaps his attention back towards the ground beneath where the velvet smoke was slowly dissipating. For some reason—years of solitude—he doesn’t think twice about proceeding to investigate. In fact, the butterflies dancing within his gut stir not with anxiety; he’s rather intrigued. This life leads not with any excitement save for titans that he happens across, so this yearning for new quickly dominated judgement. He’s curious—and uncertain—so he remains shielded by his behemoth, but he fails to consider anything happening to him as a result of that.
At a speed just beyond molasses, Cormac finally heaves a few steps in their direction. The first few are terribly slow, yet each one clears the length of a cottage. He’s cautious with them as realization makes his heart skip a beat or two.
Those are people- quite a few of them! And they seem to be moving very fast… In his direction? Still, it has yet to set off any alarm bells in his head. Instead his mind was instantly gripped by memories of his mother and all that she’d told him about the world beyond their homestead. She would always lament that their family were all that was left here.
Well, she’s left him plagued by ignorance and naïveté. As the team of foreign little humans closes in upon his massive frame, all he can focus on is how he has never seen so many others before. All of his life here, and he never even considered that his family had been wrong this entire time.
This terrible loneliness… So many years… Was it for… nothing?
He’s come to a halt again, too uncertain of his steps to take any further. Instead of moving to attack any of the closing recruits, he seems to simply be observing them. There were far too many thoughts and questions tumbling about in his mind for him to anticipate much of they would do, so he’s essentially wide open for an attack on his nape-save for the poor visibility of the vital point itself.
Crude bone formations of hands served as armor platelets across various portions of his neck, shoulders, torso, and legs. They clutched with their thumbs just atop his jugular, and the “fingers” interlaced around the back of his neck, shielding the majority of it. Still, a hard calculated blow could take his life.
He’s bent with his hands on his knees to observe them further, so thick, heavy curls along with the folds of his shoulder muscles further veil the vital area of his nape.
Just as he’s going to open his mouth and attempt to communicate with them, something small jabs into his body, and he feels a whisk of air that was quickly followed by a swift and heavy clack against the bone that served as his armor around his nape. Just as that, the somewhat questionably frail bone armor has a spiderweb of cracks all over the fingers, with bits and pieces yielding at every movement. The thick, heavy locs of hair that’d just been thread above it fell to the ground beneath him. This startles the titan incredibly, so he instinctively flinches hard and tries to move to grab at the back of his neck—or perhaps cover it in response to the very unpleasant sensation.
“Wait.”
A single, deeply guttural and strained word rumbled in desperation, and it was quickly followed by an enormous expulsion of hot air and steam bellowing from the giant. From the folds of flesh and muscle crawled out a man with pale skin and oily black hair. He wore nothing notable- only a ragged shirt and pants to match it, and he met them with a frantic amber gaze.
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Still a very very rough design, but at least it’s been visualized now. I’ll probably end up adding or adjusting a few armor plates (the hands).
They’re fused into his skin and aren’t animated or anything. It serves well against other titans, but the armor itself is a bit brittle in comparison to the real armored titan.
The armor on his arms/hands is laced between his fingers! I was just too lazy to define his fingers after struggling with so many hands
quick little speedpaint of me struggling with anatomy. Also warning for potential spoilers for s4 aot ig??
Sitting down and working on Cormac’s titan design for real today. I think I know how I wanna do his armor plates now, roughly. His body tho I think needs to be built more uncanily.
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Send ✚ for a HEALTH headcanon.
Send ♕ for a CHILDHOOD headcanon.
Send ✿ for a HAPPINESS headcanon.
Send ␛ for an ANGER headcanon.
Send ♆ for a BODY headcanon.
Send ϡ for a MENTAL STATE headcanon.
Send ღ for a LOVE/SEXUALITY headcanon.
Send † for a RELIGION headcanon.
Send ✄ for a PET PEEVE headcanon.
Send ☂ for a FOOD headcanon.
(Anyone can respond to this mutuals or otherwise! I’ll include a setting for the sake of plot.)
Setting - A mission to further study Titan behaviors. They’re currently holed up in a cluster of abandoned structures well beyond the safety of the walls.
Shoulders sagging to fatigue, Cormac sighs. Honestly, this experience wasn’t all that bad anymore- yet he found himself swallowing back tears often. Bloodshed, death—of children, no less—and repeated use of his Titan; it’s all taken such a toll. How much has he aged since getting into this mess?
His eyes sweep left, drawn to the fire where Hange was working to prepare a meal. He figures it’s going to be some kind of stew, so he starts to dig around in his bag for a small roll of bread. Most of the team had sat themselves down around the bubbling pot and were recounting the day’s events, sharing experiences- just chatting. He assumes that they are in a good mood due to lack of casualties on this mission. Anxiety pits in his stomach, because he knows there will be a day in which he fails to protect them all. They are all very lucky that day hadn’t been today.
Footsteps drawing near come as a surprise, so he turns. They’re met with his—admittedly surprised—slate gaze- his curly black hair shags over most of it, though, so his expression is partially obscured.
He says nothing, because he’s too uncertain, so this person is stared at for a short while before he finally finds his words.
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