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Tadami

@the.serpents.shadow

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The Serpent's Shadow.🐍
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@lemony_su I'm waiting where the sunflowers still turn your way, my beloved.🌻

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Between missions and expectations, Tadami found himself wandering paths that were never truly his own. Created as Shirohebei's vessel and successor, he carried a future others had decided for him, but not one he fully understood. How do you inherit the will of a creator you can't reach? How do you become someone else's legacy without losing yourself in the process? Beneath crimson leaves and fading smoke, he wonders if freedom lies in following her footsteps or choosing his own.
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Happy Birthday, Tadami 🥀
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YCH: shaiyiee rose on Vgen

#animeoc #ych #vgen #maleoc by @the.serpents.shadow

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4 months ago

The room was always cold. Tadami sat on the edge of the medical bed, bare feet against sterile tile. The clothes they gave him didn’t feel like his. Neither did his body. Days, or maybe weeks had passed since he first awakened, but time here meant nothing beyond observation cycles and examinations. Shirohebei stood before him, clipboard in hand.

“How long since the last episode?” she asked.

“..Three days.." Tadami replied after a pause.

Her pen scratched across the page. “Your vitals stabilized faster than expected.”

He swallowed. “Am I… doing well?”

She looked up then, lavender eyes sharp and unreadable. “You are improving. Your body is accepting its purpose.”

ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖. He nodded, because that was what was expected of him. She stepped closer, stopping just out of reach. “You are quieter today.”

“I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“There is no wrong thing,” Shirohebei said calmly. “Only inefficiency.” She lifted his chin, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “Remember this,” she said. “You are not here to 𝙗𝙚. You are here to 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏.” Her hand fell away. “You are my vessel,” she continued. “Vessels do not question the shape they are poured into.” She turned back to her notes, already finished with him. Tadami remained still, staring at the empty space she left behind—aware, for the first time, that something inside him was watching.. and waiting.
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Art/Edit: @kiyoko.no.mikito
(Gotta love when insta crops a whole masterpiece. DM me if you're interested in viewing the full piece.☠️)
#narutooc #digitalart #oclore #ocpost by @the.serpents.shadow

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9 months ago

Darkness. A slow, suffocating void held him in place, thick and unyielding. He drifted, weightless yet bound, like a puppet with its strings severed but still tangled in unseen threads. Then—light.

A blinding, sterile glow burned through his eyelids. A sharp hiss filled the space, followed by the gurgling rush of liquid draining away. Tadami’s first breath was violent. His lungs seized, rejecting the sudden flood of air. He coughed, body convulsing as he collapsed onto cold metal. His skin was slick with remnants of thick, translucent fluid. The chill bit into him, foreign and cruel. Somewhere above, muffled voices stirred. Distant, detached.

"Vital signs are stable," one voice murmured. A woman’s voice—smooth, calculating.

His fingers twitched. A slow, disjointed movement, as if his own limbs were unfamiliar. He pressed his palms against the steel beneath him, pushing himself up, but the weight of his own body was wrong. Too heavy, too real. He gasped, his chest rising and falling in uneven, panicked gulps. His heart thundered against his ribs. He didn’t know why he was breathing, why he was thinking. Why he was alive. Then, footsteps. A soft rustle of fabric.

"You're awake."

The voice came from just beyond his blurred vision. Cool, emotionless. A figure stood before him, the lavender glint of her serpent’s gaze cutting through the haze. She regarded him with neither warmth nor cruelty—only assessment.

Shirohebei.

Tadami's mind supplied the name, though he had no memory of learning it. His lips parted, the first flicker of sound scraping from his throat.

"…Who… am I?"

A pause. A shift in her stance, slight but deliberate.

"You are Tadami," she said. "My creation."

The words settled over him like a cold chain snapping shut around his neck.

Her creation. Not a son. Not a person. A thing. His fingers curled against the metal floor. His breath hitched. Somewhere deep inside, something cracked. And then, for the first time, he truly felt it—
The hollow, gaping void where a past should be.

Where he should be.
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#narutooc #oc #originalcharacterart #originalcharacter by @the.serpents.shadow

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9 months ago