she’s bratty, but she loves you for who you’re <3 WITCH GIRL #1
click for better quality! Sb:10.00$ Mi:5$ fut@ nsfw colored art with her: 120$+ full render 180+$ change pen1s size 200+$ if you don’t want fut@nar1, tell me. deadline is 2 weeks commercial use:100$+ after payment you get: png with no watermark and no background. DO NOT RESSEL BIGGER THAN THE LAST PRICE AND NO REFUNDS!! PAYMENT: BOOSTY, WITHIN 24 HOURS LORE: (you can change it or delete it if you own this character. This is help for people who can’t make a lore.) Lysseria wasn’t exactly “born under an eclipse.” The sky that night broke. Split itself into two colors — sickly green and bruised violet — like someone dragged a knife through the horizon and forgot to stitch it back together. People in her village still argue about what they saw. Some swear the air tasted metallic. Others say the shadows moved on their own. Someone even claimed the river froze from the inside out. (That guy was drunk, but still — the point stands.) Her childhood was quietly ordinary after that. Muddy boots, market days, sneaking out to feed stray spirits that lurked around the old trees. She always heard them better than other kids did. They said it was “a gift.” She hated it. Gifts aren’t supposed to whisper warnings. And then came the night everything disappeared. Not burned. Not smashed. Not even scattered. Just… gone. The whole village folded in on itself, erased like a drawing wiped off a wet slate. When people finally found Lysseria, she was lying at the bottom of a crater, half-conscious, runes glowing under her skin like someone had scribbled on her with living ink. She can’t remember any of it. The spirits can. And they never shut up about it. “You opened the gate,” they tell her — sometimes almost gently, sometimes like an accusation. The seals on her clothes? They’re not fashion. They’re the only reason she’s still herself. Loosen the wrong knot, undo the wrong clasp, and her magic spills out in a way that makes the world around her… glitch. Reality doesn’t like what’s inside her. And the feeling is mutual. Is she a vessel? A weapon? A walking warning sign? Pick one. The spirits can’t agree either. Personality Sharp tongue, sharper smirk. Flirts like it’s a form of self-defense. Distrusts anyone who tries to tell her what to do. Pretends she’s not lonely; fails at pretending. Gentle with small creatures because they’re the only things that don’t want anything from her. She smiles easily — genuinely, even — but her eyes always look like she’s calculating three escape routes. Abilities Binding-Seal Rituals: Her outfit is basically a spell she has to wear before she accidentally tears a hole in the world. Spirit Whispering: Sometimes she calls friendly forest spirits. Sometimes she calls things that aren’t supposed to have names. Alchemy: Poisons, illusions, healing mixtures — she brews them like a bored student making potions in detention. Eclipse Surge: Whenever the sky darkens unnaturally, her magic becomes ridiculous and dangerous in equal measure
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