#Evander OC

[how-soon-can-they-kiss]

A Soft Introduction To Something I'm Making

Word Count: 2159 T/W, C/W: Drugs and alcohol briefly mentioned, main character being beaten up, implied homophobia, swearing, using sex worker slurs (MC is not a sex worker), being kicked unconscious Notes: This is my own original story, the world and its lore is kind of shaky, so expect some things to probably change in any future one-shots. Kind of a non-canon, canon thing going on at the moment while I figure things out!

Characters: Dorian, Evander

   Dorian reasoned that life was all about devouring. Either eat or be eaten. It was easy to be the consumer, taking people into the palms of his hands and his nest. They would always be attracted to his bike, scars, and especially his easy-going demeanour. He relied on the other beautiful people around him. Feeding off their outgoing personalities to lead him around while he picked the roses from their bushes.

Nothing else mattered as he absorbed himself in the bodies. The music was so loud that the bass made the glass coffee table buzz, and his ears faintly rang during song changes. When it came to parties, the drugs and booze were a plus; he frequently became intoxicated with the others, indulging in the same bottles until there was a pile. Nothing could compare to the sensation he felt while dancing and sliding his hands along someone's neck and shoulders. 

Everywhere they touched felt like the summer sun, making him forget what it was like to be cold. During these moments, he was blank, clinging onto them and letting their hands melt him away. He never bothers to learn their names, preferring to take what he can and leave them to find another.

He desired more of his cake no matter how much he ate; something was wrong, and all Dorian could do was satisfy his craving until he couldn't feel it anymore. Nothing he did was ever enough, his hunger staying just as ravenous night after night.

   A right hook knocks him onto the filthy, damp tarmac, where debris and grime have been crushed into the crevices. The frat house lining the alleyway added to the stench.

Dorian laughs as he reaches up from the ground, his palms scratched and littered with loose pebbles from the fall. As he glanced up at the large man, his nose spilt blood all over his mouth and shirt, his palm collecting part of it. His teeth are stained with blood as he smiles.

"How about supper, just the two of us? A working man like you deserves a nice little place."

His attempts to stand are futile, as each time he is kicked back down, the man’s steel-toe boots penetrate harsher than the ordinary kick Dorian was used to. He lays down when one of the kicks connects with his stomach, and he heaves, leaning against his forearms to keep the chips and dip at bat, his entire body shivering from the pain.

"Not such a pretty sight now that you're on the ground bleeding like that, are you?"

The man spits next to Dorian's trembling body, staring down at him as he gathers his breath, tears mixed with the blood on his face as he stares down at the asphalt. The booze raging through his system did nothing to soften the blows.

"Your brother finds my vulnerability charming. I'd bet he'd still kiss me with blood on my mouth." Dorian hisses and swallows, his throat feeling dry and tight.

The man calmly walks over, kneeling down to grab Dorian by his curls, hairspray crunching as his head is dragged back by his roots. His smile was long gone, replaced by a scowl as he stared into the eyes of the man hovering over his face.

"I’ve warned you before, slut." The pejorative rolled off the stranger's tongue smoothly, "I didn't care who you talked to, as long as you kept your soiled hands away from my brother. You don't listen too well."

"What your brother does is none of your business, in my opinion."

The man scoffs, shoving Dorian's face into the tarmac, gradually increasing the pressure. Dorian was punished every time he lashed back at the man, rocks biting into his cheek.

“Don’t go near him again. I’ve heard plenty of rumours about you whore.” He steps away from Dorian, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he pivots to return to the party.

“You kiss your mommy with that mouth? I’m sure she’d be embarrassed if you said such things around her.” Gravel scuffs against the ground, and before he can understand the fast-approaching feet a steel-toed boot leaves no room for negotiation as the rubber strikes his skull, and Dorian collapses unconscious on the ground.

   When his eyes crack open, all he can taste is rubber, and he squints, the still dark alleyway being too bright before he fully closes his eyes for a few minutes longer, his body gradually awakening to severe aches.

Pressing his forehead against the asphalt leads him to jerk upright, his hand reaching up to touch the dried and tacky blood, moaning as his hair is lathered in the same stickiness. His fingers brush across the wound, the pain so intense that his vision flashes white. Unable to process anything, he pulls his hand away till it is again laid on the ground.

He stands carefully, leaning against the wall for support as each movement reveals a new throbbing and uncomfortable spot. The sun was rising, and his ride had long since vanished. He takes his time adjusting to standing, nausea increasing while he attempts to suppress it, staring at the ground. Dorian walks down the sidewalk towards his house, the taste of boot lingering behind the acidic sensation that’s growing on his lips.

Dorian took a moment to recognise the gate of the apartment complex before punching his code into the keypad and making his way through the parking lot.

The elevator is calm, muffling any extra noise as the doors slowly close. Dorian punches his floor number. He selects his floor number and leans against the railing. He couldn’t look at himself in the reflective metal, knowing full well that he looked just as bad as he felt.

It had been weeks since he had stood in front of the cheap plywood door, his keys jingling in his jacket pocket as he nervously flipped them over in his fingers. With a sharp exhale to ease his anxiety, he pushes his key into the lock and opens the door, grimacing at the smell of cooking food and the news playing on the TV.

“Expect thunder and lightning today, starting at around 9 and lasting…”

Dorian toes off his shoes at the entryway, trying not to make too much noise and hoping the newscast would drown anything.

He sneaks around the corner, dragging his hand along the wall, halfway to the toilet, and his chest feels lighter because he thinks he's gone unnoticed.

“Dorian?”

His steps falter and then slow to a stop as he leans against the wall. Everything hurts, and his head is pounding.

“A new rift opened this morning around 5 a.m., tearing Edoth in half, and citizens are scrambling to…”

“That’s the second cavern just today, how many do you think will come out?” His roommate's voice is quiet.

They both watch the live video in silence, people gathering around a massive crack in the ground and peering down into it. Some lie on their stomachs or go over with ropes in their hands, pulling humanoids from the darkness.

“I need to bathe,” Dorian interjects before his flatmate can speak again, and he walks to the bathroom, closing the door with a crisp click as news readers continue to speak over the footage.

The warm water lulls Dorian to sleep several times, his head resting against the wall. The steam moistens the blood once more, causing it to smear on the tiles as he shifts around. After thirty minutes, Dorian is sound asleep in the cooling water, bruises developing on his stomach and sides.

The door creaks open, followed by a sigh as it is fully pushed open.

Evander stands in the doorway, peering down at Dorian in the bathtub, taking his time to look over his chest and ribs, admiring the markings that complimented his physique.

   Dorian crawled out of a rift sixteen years ago, his skin so black not even the sun could reflect off of it. He was the first of hundreds that day when a new species emerged from a pit of darkness, forever altering Cleo and the people who lived on her.

They begin as blank slates, all with similar markings on their bodies, with just slices of colour, indicating that they had some form in all of the blackness.

Evan was in his fourth year of pursuing his research-oriented doctorate. When the incident occurred, delaying graduation by two years. It shook the ground and caused parts of his school to collapse, briefly halting his studies until his lecture hall was repaired.

They quickly gathered around the gaping maw in the ground, and Evan was the first to notice a hand clutching and digging into the grass near the edge Panic sprang up in his throat as he rushed over, yelling that someone had fallen and needed help. However, his shouts died in his throat as he helped the person up, and all he met with was void. Their form was difficult to discern, almost appearing two-dimensional in the 3D landscape.

As he recoils, he wavers. From the grass, bright blue eyes peered up at him, and something so kind shone through them. Nothing could make him regret the day he sat down and smiled at the new creature. His voice was quiet as he shared his name, and the eyes squinted with brilliance in response.

   Evan approaches the bathtub, crouching down and studying Dorian’s body more closely, dismayed at the dark green bruises. When he sees the blood on his friend’s forehead, his spine goes rigid, and he cautiously reaches up to push his curls to the side, revealing the wound on his head.

Dorian’s eyes flicker open, he grunts at the sudden presence next to him, the water sloshing as he sits up a little more in the tub, gently brushing the hand away as he yawns, his body shaking with the intensity of it.

“You look disgusting, you need to take a proper shower.”

Evan rotates Dorian’s head around, checking for additional wounds as he holds his face in his fingers, scrutinising every inch of flesh before making eye contact.

“You’re mad,” Dorian states bluntly, attempting to find a comfortable posture in his friend’s grip.

“Of course, I’m mad, Dorian. Someone beat the shit out of you and I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Evan scoffs, pulling away as he reaches over to a nearby cabinet and retrieves a washcloth, dips it in the lukewarm water and carefully begins to clean around Dorian’s wound.

Dorian hums softly, leaning into Evan’s palms as he holds his face again, watching his face as he concentrates on cleaning the blood off without scrubbing at the inflamed region.

The silence is soothing as Dorian allows himself to be tended to, his hair thoroughly scrubbed through. The water reactivates the sour smell of hairspray before artificial kiwi overwhelms and gradually washes it away.

“Take a shower, this water is disgusting.”

Evan takes a step back after lathering Dorian’s hair, wiping his hands on the soiled towel before tossing it in the laundry basket and drying his hands on his pants.

Dorian sits in the tub while the water drains, casually turning on the shower head once it reaches a certain level and watches the water splash over the tiled floor before draining down the drain embedded in the tiles.

“Can you stand?” Evander asks with a tone of worry evident in his voice as he offers his hand, leaning down to brace himself in case Dorian fell or couldn’t bear his weight.

Dorian gratefully takes his hand in his and stands with ease, the last of his grime and blood finally rinsing off, as does the soap clinging to his hair. Evander rests against the wash basin, glancing down at the tiles while Dorian cleans himself, using the wall as support.

He needs help stepping out of the tub, Evan carefully holds him under his arms and practically lifts him out, covering him in a towel, exhaustion evident on Dorian’s face. Dorian is enveloped in a familiar blankness as he settles in, allowing himself to relax against Evan.

Evan starts squeezing his hair with the towel, only getting a few good fistfuls before wet hands on the back of his neck distract him from his task. He looks down at Dorian, right into friendly and admiring blue eyes as his fingers wet the short hair on the back of his head, pulling him down to meet for a kiss.

“I love you, Evan…” Dorian’s voice is quiet as he pulls back, flinching as Evan resumes his drying.

“I know.”

[lavellane]

wouldve been soooooo fucking crazy if they'd used the Truth of the gods being back as another opportunity to relate rook to solas the way theyd apparently intended. like im sorry but SO few people are going to believe u when u say "the evanuris are back and also evil and also controlling the blight oh and btw there are two blights now". it shouldnt have worked bc it WOULDNT have worked. you know what would have worked??? fucking lying about it lol. keeping people in the dark. only telling factions exactly what they need to know. to lie and keep them safe/expedite the process of saving the world vs telling the truth and having everyone on the same page, but risking their lives further and potentially stalling the process/losing allies.......... im soooo intrigued by the morality that we couldve gotten stuck into.................... instead of what we ended up getting lol

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

FALLOUT OCS IN VAULT BOY STYLE. REJOICE

[tetrachrxmacy]

[just one bite ok ?]

[sealrock]

paris and their favorite cousins in their younger years, when things were a bit simpler. (evander on the left, patroclus on the right. baby cousins not shown)

[bladesandbhaalspawn]

Echoes of Innocence

A Post-Epilogue Gale Story

Pairing: Gale x Tav (she/her)

Words: 1k

Available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57591922

Inspired by: @hyperfixationstation128's post about Gale being terrified as a dad to a young son who shows magical prowess.

TW: Brief mentions of Gale's past abuse (grooming) - nothing is explicit.

Story Summary: For a moment, Gale was mesmerized. The sheer talent and potential his son displayed filled him with awe. But then, a cold dread settled in his stomach. Memories of his own childhood, of the moment Mystra had chosen him, came rushing back. ----- In the heart of Waterdeep, Gale Dekarios lives a peaceful life with his beloved wife and their talented son, Evander. When Evander reveals his budding magical abilities, Gale is torn between pride and fear. Haunted by his own childhood as Mystra's Chosen, Gale vows to protect his son from the same fate. Echoes of Innocence explores the bond between father and son, the weight of past traumas, and the fierce determination to shield the innocent from the darkness of the world.

Gale Dekarios stood at the window of his study, overlooking the bustling streets of Waterdeep. The city was alive with activity, a stark contrast to the quiet serenity he cherished within his home. His gaze softened as it landed on the garden below, where his young son, Evander, played with a wooden staff, imitating the moves of the great wizards he had heard about in his bedtime stories.

Evander was the very image of his father, with dark hair that curled at the edges and eyes that sparkled with curiosity and intelligence. Gale’s heart swelled with pride every time he looked at him. He remembered the first time he had held Evander, a tiny bundle of warmth and promise, and how he had vowed to protect him from all the darkness in the world.

Tav entered the study, her presence as comforting as always. “He’s been practicing something special,” she said with a knowing smile. “He wants to show you.”

Gale’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“He’s been quite secretive about it. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Gale followed his wife to the garden, where Evander was now standing with a look of determination on his face. “Papa, watch this!” he called out, excitement evident in his voice.

Gale knelt to be at eye level with his son. “I’m watching, Evander. Show me what you’ve got.”

Evander took a deep breath, his small hands gripping the staff tightly. He closed his eyes and began to chant softly, words of arcane power that Gale recognized instantly. A spark of light appeared at the tip of the staff, growing brighter and more intense until it burst into a dazzling display of colours, swirling and dancing in the air.

For a moment, Gale was mesmerized. The sheer talent and potential his son displayed filled him with awe. But then, a cold dread settled in his stomach. Memories of his own childhood, of the moment Mystra had chosen him, came rushing back.

He had been playing in the garden of his family home, much like Evander now, casting spell after spell. He remembered the precise moment when the air around him had shimmered and Mystra appeared. She had been radiant, her presence filling the space with an otherworldly light. Her hair shone like spun silver, cascading in waves down her back, and her robes flowed around her like liquid starlight, barely concealing the womanly form underneath. The sheer power that emanated from her skin was palpable, an aura of magic that made the very air vibrate.

Her voice had been gentle, yet filled with authority, when she had spoken his name.

“Gale Dekarios,” she had said, her eyes piercing through him with a gaze that felt both warm and commanding. “You have been Chosen.”

He had felt so special, so grown-up, standing before the goddess. He had puffed out his chest, eager to prove himself worthy. The world had seemed brighter, filled with endless possibilities. Mystra had placed her hand on his head, and he had felt a surge of power, a direct connection to the Weave itself.

“You will do great things,” she had promised. “You will be my instrument in this world.”

Gale’s smile faltered as he looked at Evander, who was beaming with pride. The boy’s face was flushed with the exertion of the spell, his eyes shining with the thrill of success. But all Gale could see was how young he was, how vulnerable.

At just eight years old, he was the same age he himself had been when Mystra had claimed him.

“Papa, did you see? Did you like it?” Evander’s voice was eager, seeking approval.

Gale forced a smile, reaching out to ruffle his son’s hair. “It was amazing, Evander. You’re truly talented.”

But inside, he was trembling. He saw the innocence in his son’s eyes, the same innocence Mystra had exploited. The realization hit him like a blow – he had once revered Mystra, had seen her as a benevolent guide. But now, he felt only disgust. How could she look upon a face so pure and know that she would one day take them to bed?

He wrapped his arms around Evander, pulling him close. “Promise me, Evander,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me you’ll always come to me with your magic. Never hide it, never be ashamed of it.”

Evander looked up, puzzled but obedient. “I promise, Papa.”

Gale held him tighter, tears stinging his eyes. He would protect his son from the fate he had endured. He would ensure that Evander’s magic would be a source of joy, not a tool for manipulation. For the first time, he truly felt hatred for Mystra, not just for what she had done to him, but for the threat she posed to the one he loved most.

As he held his son, Gale felt Tav’s presence beside him. He looked up, meeting her eyes. At that moment, he saw the understanding and compassion there. In her eyes, he could see that she had always known, always seen the extent of Mystra’s abuse. She had been kind enough, patient enough, to let him figure it out on his own time. Gale couldn’t love her more if he tried.

Reaching up, Gale unclasped the earring he always wore – the last token of his connection to Mystra. He held it for a moment, feeling the cool metal in his palm, before placing it in Tav’s hand. Her eyes widened slightly, then softened with deep understanding. Gale squeezed her hand, hoping it conveyed both his thanks and his determination to keep their son safe. Tav squeezed back, her eyes shining with love and support.

As he held his son once more, pulling him into a tight hug, Gale made a silent vow. He would guard Evander’s innocence with his life, and he would ensure that no one, not even a god, would take that away from him.

The magic in his veins crackled, barely restrained, as a thought came to him.

Maybe the Crown of Karsus could still be retrieved from the waters of Baldur’s Gate.

[enigmatic-enigmas]

THE MASOCHISM TANGO!

[masquerade-v]

Dante doodle

[jam-campasta]

pjo request! leo and nico playing card games tehe

or, if you’d like: cas and evander imitating each other

HI HI HI !!!!! HERE YOU GO FRIENDO

(and you know i cant pass up a chance to draw our pjo OCs HEHEHEHEHE)

[vanrouge13]

LIL COMIC THING OF MY OC AND LEONAAH💥💥💥💥

[ask-noonescity]

Miss Phantasia is so pretty, I can see why shes (canonically) a super model:)

"You feel all and mighty with that puny little crown of yours? High talk coming from you little guy - I dont care who you used to be AND who you think you are right now, I am going to shred you out of this exista-...huh..." She paused watching bright light explore almost in little blobs floating in air as she staired straight ahead before letting out a chuckle

"Oh this put's me in such a good mood! What a lovely surprise!!" she chimmed happily her eyes still bright red clearly she wasn't out of her hyper mode or even was going to let it rest

"Get rid of that thing." The Moltres only said staring at the newly discovered Destino in front of them all - Static also raised around them as the Zapdos huffed out getting defensive

"Already on it dont have to tell me twice ~ " the bird hummed her ponytail just floated gracefully with power behind her as she stared at Destino like a little prey rattata

"Does that mean there's more of them around? Were we tricked?" He asked looking around suspiciously now feathers on ear's flicking up and down not knowing what to trust now and what to do

Phantasia was preparing Shadow Chill

The articuno paused and before all bird's eyes the absol was gone After few second's when Destino opened their eye's they were floating in dark space with no life around or even a single planet just stars or were they just sparkles? someone cleared their throat just behind the young royal

The hands sighed deeply after sending the absol into their universe seemingly looking around as the hands shifted around "Mmmh,,, I guess then its time to send you back where we left off huh? Back to the pissy 'eon" they opened up a another portal "It was fun while it lasted - I hope to see you again, or not ~ Not sure heh"

@ask-the-royal-absol

♠Ask hints

[merichita]

Evander after becoming a saint thanks to the death of his brother:

harlow will die and Evander ascend to divinity, good for them 👏

[lavellane]

can you fucking imagine if instead of the mourn watch or lords of fortune factions we'd instead had an inquisition and agents of fen'harel faction . personally i have not stopped thinking about it once since finishing veilguard but maybe thats just me

[mysticstarlightduck]

Villain Sneak Peek (Supernova Initiative) - Red Adder & Arachnys

════════════════════════════════════════════

☆ ・・About/General Info ・・☆

The most dangerous and infamous power couple in both the Junction and Khosmonian Galaxies, Ciara (alias - Red Adder), and her husband, Evander (alias - Arachnys), are the bosses of the ruthless Saphir crime family - they own most of the sprawling criminal underworld with almost nothing from the shady side of the law that they don't somewhat control. Basically, they are the Queen and King of organized crime in both galactic systems. They're also the founders of the conglomerate that owns the illegal, shady clubs responsible for the disappearance of Tarah's best friend and are also the sponsors of Meridian Shardd's inventor. A lot of other lowlifes, mobsters and space pirates in the series answer to them and cause a lot of trouble to the main cast.

☆・・More Info ・・☆

Pronouns:

Arachnys/Evander Saphyr - He/Him

Red Adder/Ciara Saphyr - She/Her

Age:

Arachnys/Evander Saphyr - 42

Red Adder/Ciara Saphyr - 41

Current Role - Antagonists, two of the Main Villains

Appearance:

Red Adder - She is a lithe, yet voluptuous woman, with dark lilac eyes and striking, yet refined, makeup. Her skin is warm white, and she often favors a deep red, almost wine-colored, lipstick, along with pink sunglasses. Sometimes, she wears a black leather choker and leather gloves, especially to avoid leaving fingerprints on anything. Ciara wears dark clothes, often choosing stylish black-tie style clothing, especially dresses, with a white, silk jacket on top and killer heels. She is often regarded as the colder and more menacing looking out of the duo, and that is true. Her hair is a deep shade of red, with her fringe occasionally dyed pink.

Picrew

Arachnys - He is a muscular, tall man with tan skin and piercing eyes with pitch-black sclera and ghost-white irises. His smile is impeccably dangerous and his canines look akin to vampiric fangs. He often wears white and gold long-sleeved shirts, slightly unbuttoned, under a dark grey overcoat or jacket, along with black pants and boots. His hair is a dark, striking shade of pink-ish red, with a white streak on the fringe. His brash, short-tempered personality also shines through in his style and appearance more than often.

Picrew

Personality Types

✶ Enneagram:

Red Adder - 7w6

Arachnys - 6w5

✶ MBTI:

Red Adder - ESTJ

Arachnys - INFP

Species & Place of Birth: Humanoid Aliens (Eillahn); Unknown;

Sexuality: Straight (both of them)

☆・・Extras・・☆

✶ Character Playlist (A full Character Playlist is still To Be Made. Also this playlist applies to both of them!)

Old Money - Jonathan Young

You could have it all This city would bow beneath your feet Walk like a wolf amongst the sheep And each day you shall dine You could have it allDon't be another casualty You can join our family [...] You could have it all Forbidden fruit that you can bite Follow temptation like the tide Why walk when you could fly? You could have it all Join us and rise above the rest

Feeling Good - Micheal Bublé

Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by You know how I feel It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good

Deal You Can't Refuse - Cristina Vee

You need protection out there Don’t walk the streets alone You can’t deny that you’re scared You know you’re on you’re own You need some peace of mind That I can help you find You only just need to sign Upon the dotted line Make you a deal you can’t refuse Alone, or safe with us - I’ll let you choose Make you a deal you can’t refuse So tell me what you’ve got to lose There are no angels out thereJust demons on the streets This city doesn’t play fair We’ll help you play for keeps

Playground - Bea Miller

Who told you what was down here? Come along, if you wanted a peek I've seen your face around here Come alone, tell me under the table What do you seek? [...] Welcome to the playground, follow me Tell me your nightmares and fantasies Sink into the wasteland underneath Stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream [...] What brings you to the lost and found, dear? Won't you pull up a seat? Everybody got a price 'round here to play Make me an offer, what will it be? Oh-oh, what will it be?

・・・

✶ Tags:

#wip supernova initiative #oc: ciara saphyr #oc: evander saphyr #oc: red adder #oc: arachnys

・・・

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[tetrachrxmacy]

[WISH U WERE HERE ! <3]

[inkygray]

"big run isn't an excuse to act friendly, being a hater is a lifestyle." — rataempanada

evander belongs to @/jokemato