#OC Luna

[silvermoon424]

I commissioned my OC magical girls in the style of this iconic PMMM image! Artist is friendly_mcextrovert 💖

[simonxriley]

Flamma Vermillion (black clover) // Kaiya Kobayashi (oshi no ko) Kimiko Nakayama (haikyu) // Kaisa Blake (aot) Naho Kaneko (mha) // Luna (trotsh)

I was tagged by the wonderful @leviiackrman @crownrots @inafieldofdaisies @lilywatt and @voidika to make some kiddos in this picrew, thank you guys! 💜

tag list (opt in/out) @playstationmademe @imogenkol @sergeiravenov @alexxmason @carlosoliveiraa

@katsigian @isa-love-anime @g0dspeeed @faccal @theelderhazelnut

@justasmolbard @cassietrn @illmetbymoonlight @dickytwister @collinnmckinley

@dani-the-goblin @killerspinal

[kimberbohwrites]

Dusk & Honey: Chapter Two <Previous Chapter Word Count: 3,578 Rated: Overall fic rating is Explicit, this chapter is SFW READ ON AO3 (or continued below) Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 >Halsin x Tav art by @ DARKURGETRASH on tumblr<

Summary: The story of my OC Tav, Luna and her experience during the timeline of the game, not modifying canon so much as adding more to the Halsin-romance path. Featuring: world-building, action, well-researched drow lore, hurt/comfort, slowburn Halsin romancing, and eventual smut. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS, we'll be exploring trauma in several areas including touching on some of the darker canon trauma faced by Halsin. Tags/Warnings: Eventual Smut, Enemies to Lovers, mildly they are gonna fight, Halsin Romance Route, Named Tav, Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Drow Culture , Half-Drow Tav, Anti-Drow Racism, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Baldur's Gate 3, Cleric Tav, Implied/Referenced S*xual Assault, (meaning the eventual discussion of Halsin's time in the underdark), Pining

Both Halsin and Zevlor had insisted upon a celebration of their successful efforts to save both the Grove and the Tiefling Refugees trapped within. The Druid had refused to discuss the next steps until they’d taken a night off for rest. It was unexpected, being asked to linger for longer at the Druid Grove. But Halsin seemed to be full of unexpected things. Luna thought it strange that he should so greatly stand in contrast to his fellow Druids, he was the only one of them to even show up at the humble party within their camp that night.

Everything must have a balance and Halsin balances his fellow Druids, she mused to herself over a glass of wine that had more taste of vinegar than of vineyard.

Still — it was a reprieve and the most normal thing she’d experienced in the short tendays that had transpired since she’d awoken on the Nautiloid.

The night wasn’t all celebration however, young Wyll lurked over by the water out of the sight of all. His brow was newly adorned with a set of horns and several other infernal traits had come along with them. A punishment from his hell-bitch of a patron, Mizora. After doing her best to comfort her friend, she’d thought it best to leave him to his brooding.

She had visited several of her other companions this evening and had to politely decline several invitations of various after-party activities. As tempting as the thought of letting go for a night and enjoying the touch of another was, she still felt raw from the day before. More honestly, she didn’t want to provide an opportunity for them to ask prying questions about her loss of control with Minthara.

It had caused her to sleep worse than usual the night before, replaying that incident in her mind over and over. She’d hurt her friends and without her healing powers, Halsin might be dead. The guilt she felt took a warm but equally uncomfortable turn when she thought of the Archdruid. Though she’d never admit it, thinking of him kept her awake as well. Not just her shame, but thoughts of his soft eyes set on the rugged canvas of his handsome face.

She shook the memory away, lest she be distracted in front of the real thing just across the camp. In the morning they’d be leaving and Halsin would of course want to stay with his grove, it was a relief that she wouldn’t have to worry about the confusing feelings caused by the Druid, much longer.

 At current she was finding it hard to ignore the nagging feeling that his eyes were boring holes into her back when it was turned, as she chatted with her companions and the tieflings. But each time she’d turned back in his direction, he seemed to be interestedly talking to Zevlor or looking off at the woods.

When she finally approached him it was later in the evening and the drinks had made her bold. Her mind screamed at her to deal with the Druid now before he became a distraction. It was already too much, she’d found herself thinking about his smile for some reason.

And the way he’d looked up at her from the ground as if she were something special, something worth loving, worth cherishing.

“Are you having a good night so far?”

“Ah! My hero! It is a pleasant night for company. Are the evening’s festivities to your liking?”

The guilt rose in her, combining with the warmth of the wine — she immediately felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Just be brave, flirt with him and bat your eyes. It always works, he’ll be interested and then he’ll be gone. They never stay.

“Yeah, it’s great, I was wondering if perhaps, you wanted to share a drink?”

His eyes held hers closely but revealed nothing but their general kindness.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

At his joke, she smiled her pretty, practiced smile. Not too much teeth, not too eager.

“I fail to see the problem. But, perhaps, there are other ways we could get to know each other?”

“I’m sure there are. You strike me as extremely… resourceful. But there are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.”

For a moment her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t used to be turned down and he had seemed so interested before.

“I see, well, um…Okay, thanks”

Luna panicked; she wasn’t smooth enough to talk her way out of this situation.

“Go on, enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry — there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Halsin added, seeming kind even despite the awkward moment Luna was having. She smiled at him, biting her plush bottom lip nervously as she gazed up into his eyes. The moment stretched on as their eyes lingered on one another. Glancing down at his lips she found he was smirking slightly, revealing a flash of teeth. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw a hint of point to his canine as if some part of the bear was always present. She’d already looked at his mouth for too long, she couldn’t look again.

Luna nodded at him, regaining her cool demeanor from the Halsin’s rejection at last. She could have sworn she’d seen a hint of pain in his eyes as she vanished behind her facade of easy charm and effortless kindness. It may have been wrapped in a flirty tone, but his rejection was clear and she wanted to get away from him immediately. 

“Thanks, maybe I’ll do just that.”

Spinning on her heel quickly to leave, Luna doesn’t even bother to check if Halsin is done talking to her. She just needs to get away from the humiliation of this interaction. She spots Zevlor lurking not far off in the darkness on the edge of camp as she purposefully walks away from the Druid.

Her heart wrenched at the sight of the Paladin, he looked so… tired. While Luna was very likely older than the tiefling, he seemed to be considered on the older side amongst his race. He seemed burdened with the struggles of time and tragedy, she empathized for the man.

Most of her life on the surface had been in hiding. She served her Goddess by helping others escape Lolth’s wrath. As a result, thanks to the influence and wealth of the Drow, ransoms were offered on the surface and the Underdark for her head. She’d lived in hiding for a long time while working in service of her Lady.

She hadn’t realized how insular it had made her until she’d met Zevlor and the other refugees. Luna couldn’t even remember meeting a tiefling in her travels before. But already she understood that their people seemed to be subject to the ire and cruelty by the humans.

There weren’t many half-drow wandering around Faerun that she was aware of, in fact she’d never met any beside herself. A quick look in the mirror would reveal a very Drow looking woman, the only evidence of her human side is her size — too tall for the small, lithe frames that Drow women were known for. It made her both unknown and exotic to most people she encountered. More often than not, people chose to fear her before she’d even opened her mouth.

Yet, Zevlor and his people seemed even more reviled by those around them. It didn’t make sense to her. The Drow were a cruel people thanks to thousands of years of Lolth’s tyrannical reign over Menzoberranzan. While in her heart she hoped for a better future for her people, she wasn’t sure they were still capable of good even without the Spider-Queen’s influence. But the Tieflings? What crimes were they guilty of? What cruel goddess did they worship unquestioningly?

In short — she understood why people feared her at least a little, the evil deeds of the Drow were legendary. But what had the Tieflings ever done? Hating the unknown was not a uniquely human trait however, as ugly as their hate could be. While the relations between elves and the other races had improved in most areas over the years, their judgement was still sharp and brutal. That thought brought Minthara’s last words to the front of her mind once more, “Usually, someone would do you the kindness of putting an abomination like you out of your misery as a babe, how uncared for you were that they couldn’t have spared you the shame.”

She shook the thought away and gave the Tiefling a little wave as she passed by. His tail swished behind him. Luna couldn’t help but smile and wink at him before continuing on, wondering if that swish meant anything.

When she turned briefly and spotted the little flush on his already red cheeks — she had her answer. Still, her failure to control the situation with Halsin had her feeling down and she wanted to return to the peace of her tent. Cowardly though it may be, she was willing to risk being humiliated twice in one evening.

With a last goodbye to their guests she retreated to her bedroll. Eyelids heavy from wine and her heart even heavier from so much trouble already. Sleep wouldn’t find her easy this evening, of that much she was aware. She could only hope that the wine could soften the thoughts in her head enough for her to slip off to sleep alone in her bedroll.

—*—*——*—*—

The morning after the party, the tieflings seemed to be long gone by the time she’d risen. It was surprising as she tended to wake with the sun each day, but Zevlor was a disciplined leader. Searching her mind, she recalled him talking about an early start for his people toward their destination of Baldur’s Gate. Head only a little muddled from wine, she said an extra prayer that morning to the Dark Dancer for their safe passage to the city. Her Goddess provided refuge to the downtrodden who escaped Lolth and Luna believe that grace must extend to the tieflings searching for freedom of their own.

With a sigh she set about her day. Somehow, she’d been selected as the leader of her own group before she’d even sensed it. It wasn’t something that came to her naturally— leadership, but always seemed to be thrust upon her. Even when she had joined the other followers of Eilistraee to serve her in the goals of freeing people from Lolth’s tyranny — she had risen through the ranks quickly.

If only she could make herself smaller somehow. There were countless nights she lay awake in bed and hoped to disappear, to be invisible. But from her too-tall figure to not being able to keep her mouth shut, she drew attention on herself. It was only her trying to be helpful, to belong, that she would open her mouth with a suggestion or offer care to someone. But each time it drew focus on her she’d rather have gone without. She didn’t deserve the spotlight.

There was no denying that the group was certainly in need of leadership to even stand a fighting chance. They were infected by mindflayer tadpoles and even in the Underdark that was well-known as a death sentence.

Mindflayers weren’t unheard of in the Underdark, some noble Drow houses kept them in their courts, although their presence and usage was neither admitted nor considered acceptable by the public. But there were few advantages a Drow Matron would not take in to strengthen her house and her position. She found herself almost wishing Halsin could stay with their group to provide the sort of leadership and guidance they so desperately needed.

—*—*——*—*—

When they departed their campsite a few hours later, Luna could have kicked herself for wishing for the Druid’s guidance. She’d gotten it — in spades. Halsin followed up the rear of their group quietly as their newest member and Luna was still glowering over their fight about the next steps.

He’d been so rude when she expressed her frustration about not having more answers. Snapping at her before continuing on about the terrible blight of the Shadow Curse.

“I won’t be held accountable just because you’re naive enough to expect easy answers.”

“How dare you?! I’m just trying to help these people!” She had snapped back. She had felt Shadowheart’s hand on her shoulder and heard Karlach’s soothing coo. The Druid had insisted on continuing and Luna had forced herself to bite her tongue. Control yourself, the moon controls the tides as I control me. She had chanted in her head as Halsin went on, forcing her outrage behind the finely polished mask of constant calm once more. It wasn’t until he had brought up the Underdark that she had even bothered to open her mouth once again.

“We found the entrance to the Underdark in the temple after you left to set the grove to rights and I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. I have no idea where that leads. It could be the death of all of us.”

“The Shadow Curse is a fate WORSE than death, Luna! I do not relish the thought of venturing into the Underdark but I would not suggest such a course of action if I thought there were a safer way.”

His tone had at least been kinder than when he’d accused her of being naive but still firm. She hadn’t been able to tell if it was the thought of the Shadow Curse or if it was just her that got that made him this frustrated. Then, when he’d offered to join their camp to offer counsel and support as they ventured to Moonrise, it had taken each of her companions to convince her to agree to the Druid’s company.

She glanced back at him as they made their way toward the goblin camps to examine the entrance to the Underdark. It was strange, she thought, she’d expected him to look sadder as they left the Grove behind. Instead she found him looking ahead with a firm resolve on his face. When he caught her staring, he cocked an eyebrow at her and she flipped around quickly again. Animatedly, engrossing herself in listening to Wyll and Astarion rib each other back and forth. She wasn’t brave enough to turn back to see if he was still looking.

Just ignore him Luna, you don’t need everyone to like you. She told herself.

As they approached the goblin camp, the familiar touch of anxiety settled in her anew at the thought of being within the temple ruins again. It had only been a day or so since her loss of control, the incident still weighed heavily on her. She didn’t realize how heavy the burden was until they were once again under the roof of the ruined temple.

Something evil lurked forever within the walls, maybe it was simply her own regret that now haunted the place. Whatever it was, it seemed to compound with the weight in her chest she felt over the increasing and very real likelihood she’d be spending time in the Underdark once more.

It’s not that she hadn’t been back. She had returned since her escape but only in short trips and always staying clear of Menzoberranzan. The Drow have a long memory, longer for those who have wronged them. Thirty years was thirty seconds in the grand scheme of Drow revenge and plots. Her trips to the Underdark had always been as a guide for fellow followers of Eilistraee. Those who would go deeper within the cavernous lands to rescue others who were looking to escape the cruelty of the Drow.

The feeling of being watched snapped her from her thoughts. She was trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt, but it didn’t help that she could feel the Druid’s eyes on her again, like he knew what she was feeling. How could he possibly understand? They never understand. I don’t need his pity. She can feel the spike of anger within her. Her blood thrums in her ears and she barely hears her campmates as they approach the Selunite puzzle that leads to the Underdark. She allows her mind to be present once more just in time to hear their rogue’s cutting humor.

“Looks like a long fall, The Blade had better be careful,” Astarion hissed as Wyll while lunging forward and giving him a slight push toward the ladder and the fatal plunge. Luna shoots them both a stern look. She doesn’t miss the way Wyll flushes a little at the vampire’s teasing.

“I quite agree with Luna, I think this whole Selunite Underdark plan is bad news,” Shadowheart says to Halsin as she clutches at the wound on her hand. No doubt the Dark Lady is punishing Shadowheart for being in her sister’s temple.

“It’s Luna’s decision, she picks the route we take and I will follow,” Wyll added nobly.

“May I speak with you for a moment, alone?” Halsin asked her with a harried look. After a long moment, taking time to enjoying the way he seems to sweat over her answer, she nods. He gestures for her to follow, leading her a few halls over until they come across a quiet alcove amidst the ruined temple.

 When he rounds on her, she is distracted immediately by how small she feels in his presence. She’s always been tall, standing a head and shoulders above most of the people around her. The fact that the elf still stands several inches above her in stature rings through her mind, both pleasure and panic answer. Her heart races at his proximity.

Stop, she hisses to the traitor muscle in her chest. He very clearly doesn’t like you like that. Stop it. The sting of his rejection from the night before is still fresh in her memory.

“Whatever reason you have to fear the Underdark, it cannot be worse that the blight of the Shadow Curse,” He finally says.

Waves of emotion wash over her at his words. He doesn’t know anything about me. How could he possibly understand? What does this Druid even know of fear? She feels untethered by the sentence, pinpricks of panic blossom across her skin. With a deep breath she centers herself in the light of her Goddess, the only mooring she can tether herself to in a sea of emotion. She will not lose control again so soon.

Halsin studies her face, clearly watching the emotional struggle play itself out on her features with concern. Too long has passed since he spoke, and she knows she needs to answer him.

“Have you ever even been to the Underdark, Druid?” She almost spits the last word.

His eyes avert her gaze immediately. In a flash she swears she can see his calm demeanor falter for just a moment.

“I have.”

He offers no more and she knows immediately this is not something to pry into. There is a faint hint of sadness in his eyes when he meets her gaze once more. Her traitorous heart lurches again and she can only pray to her Goddess that the dusky blue of her skin hadn’t given way to a deeper blush on her cheeks.

Swallowing the feeling she gives him a tight nod.

“Fine.”

He sighs and she can’t help but silently celebrate having him so frustrated. It’s petty but she can only hope she’s causing him half the stress he’s already caused her.

Her mind tells her to walk away, that the conversation is over. But she doesn’t and neither does he, they just linger. Time slows as they gaze silently into one another’s eyes. He looks at her with what looks like hunger, but she knows it must be a trick of the dim light in their private spot. After his flat rejection she cannot bring herself to hope for anything more and besides, it seemed she was destined to spend her time fighting with him instead. She wills herself to look away, breathing slowly like it might make her heart stop racing. When she glances down, she sees his fists clenched tightly with coiled energy.

Halsin relaxes immediately when she notices and his entire demeanor shifts. For just a moment it felt like he contained a predator within, and she was just prey in his eyes. But then he’s himself once more. The moment passed and the familiar easy smile is in place again as he backs away.

“Oakfather be praised, you’re making the right decision Luna.”

She nods and gives him a tight smile, clearing her throat anxiously and quickly walking away.

Stupid! Why would you be alone with him? Never again. That was such a bad idea. She berates herself internally as she hastens to join her companions. As she grabs her pack with a flurry of busied activity, pointedly ignoring their looks, she finds herself looking forward to the Underdark. At least there it was clear cut and simple— live or die.

It had to be better than her increasingly confusing and awkward interactions with the Druid.

Taglist: @dutifullylazybread @scandistar @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @beaneburrito @tsabhira05 @cchickki @purpleasters-inseptember @reverieblondie @barbwillbrb @stuffforthestash @crowwolf @halsinningiswinning

(just comment if you want on/off taglist)

[lydia-too-late]

Hi there! Wanna know what kinda place you've stumbled into?

I'm a real, live human-person. She/her, creative dilettante, art dabbler, writing enthusiast.

I'm here for the writing and the vampires, mostly, but straying wildly off-topic is part of the fun. I often post my writing, much of it about an OC VtM character named Tula Redgrave, a Lasombra neonate and reluctant diablerista. You may find her here, and beneath the cut.

FULL NAME :: Talulah (Tula) Redgrave

APPARENT AGE :: 26 (embraced 2020)

ACTUAL AGE :: 31 (born 1995)

Important Note: Self Control is set in 2026

CLAN :: Lasombra 

SIRE :: Evelyn Astor. Blonde, perfectly coiffed, perfectly dressed, sharp bones, sharp eyes, sharp bearing; embraced 1930s, in her late 40s or early 50s. (She’s not the type of woman you’d dare to ask.) Widowed young in her mortal life, Evelyn presumably caught the eye of her sire by being the era-rare businesswoman who went fiercely toe-to-toe with her male contemporaries. Evelyn never offered Tula much insight into her past, her powers, or her personal philosophies beyond Never Lose. She’s Lasombra. Who really wants to revisit all of those betrayals? 

HAVEN :: An elderly woman’s apartment. A moment of weakness for Tula, and a door to the sublime for the owner, Ethel. The body is gone, and the bills are (presumably) autopaid from an unknown account. Eviction notices have been regularly appearing on the door, and it appears Tula’s time at Ethel’s place is running out.

STATUS :: Tula has been in Las Alturas for about seven months. For much of that time, she was only very loosely affiliated with kindred society, working as a bartender for Salvator Santos, ghoul to a prominent local Anarch (Miel, the “Party Baron”). She now works directly for Miel, doing odd jobs: protection, message-delivering, information-finding.

Porcelain doll, but make it tomboy. Average height and thin frame, with enough lean muscle on her limbs to suggest some athleticism in her mortal life. Hungry cheekbones, full lips. Resting scowl-face. Some nonspecific and irrelevant European heritage: pale skin, a fading scatter of freckles, sun-starved red hair in lazy, haphazard curls. Mostly casual fits and no makeup, but she’s not against being better turned-out for special occasions, especially if someone else is willing help. (Again. Lasombra.) Overall, there’s a sense of rawness in her bearing and demeanor, of potential unrealized.

LIKES

:: The inhale and exhale of waves against a shore, the lure of potential in a far horizon.

:: The three photos she still has of herself, taken prior to her embrace, the edges grown soft from handling. 

:: Bass, the kind that splits deep, like a primal echo, like the shudder of life in her slumbering cells. 

:: Baths. Hot water warming her skin.

DISLIKES

:: Bartending. (You’d like her to smile? If only you knew how sharp her teeth were, you wouldn’t ask.)

:: Fluorescent lighting. The pallor of her skin. The anemic shadows. The diseased-looking kine. What was bad with mortal eyes has become intolerable with vampire ones. 

:: Toreadors. They are the worst. 

:: You’ve heard this story before. Poor little rich girl. Perhaps Tula wasn’t real rich, not fuck you rich. She shouldn’t have had any complaints. Both parents were doctors, both smart, capable, distant. Why they chose to have a child is a mystery; no one involved appeared to take much pleasure in the arrangement. The memories of her childhood - the trips, events, holidays - consist of being surrounded by disinterested adults offering tight, tense smiles. A series of shifting backdrops for her solitude. 

:: Typical high school boyfriend, typical college break-up. A prestigious grad school meant perpetual stress: keen loneliness, the specter of inadequacy. Pills. First occasionally, then persistently.

:: How she attracted the attention of Dr. Astor — Evelyn — in this state, she’s not sure. What started as a professional relationship rapidly turned personal; soon she had no secrets, no time or interest to devote to anything but her mentor and their work. Tula’s memories of the the night she was embraced are painful and confusing. She knows she suffered. She knows Evelyn laughed to see it. She knows the wretched pit of emptiness already existing within fractured deeper, went darker, and grew teeth.

:: Evelyn was precariously Camarilla, still earning their trust, and as a result, she was obsessive about Tradition and Decorum. Any misstep on Tula’s part was a threat to her standing, and she never let it be forgotten.

:: To become a recognized member of the Atlanta Camarilla, the Prince tasked Tula with the hunting and killing of a Tzimisce infiltrator within their city - a test for both her personal loyalty, and the “quality” of her Sire’s bloodline. She was given three nights.

:: On the second night, Tula found and fought the Tzimisce, an alien-tall, long-limbed, long-tongued creature named Luna. She should have lost that fight. Yet miraculously, when vitae spilled in terrible abundance, it wasn’t hers. Tula couldn’t resist — she drank and drank, unthinking, beastly, until she’d consumed Luna’s essence. 

:: Evelyn and the Prince were horrified by the diablerie. The act was primitive, base, corrupting. Soul-level soiled by Luna’s Tzimisce blood, Tula was a mongrel, unfit for their society. She was banished from the city and disowned by her sire. It was mercy not to kill her, they said, but no one expected her to survive long on her own anyway.

:: (Important note for the future: Evelyn had killed at least two of her childer prior to Tula. Unbeknownst to Tula, their bloodline is particularly inclined to diablerie, and more specifically, the diablerie of one’s own sire. It is likely that it traces back to Sybil, the only woman embraced by Lasombra himself, though all of these facts are murky, debatable.) 

:: For a little over a year, Tula meandered westward, broken and haunted. Surviving, but barely. Tortured by Luna’s memories of her Sabbat pack and their animal companionship, projected like dreams throughout her daysleep. 

:: Las Alturas was land’s end, the very edge of the hemisphere on the banks of the broad Pacific. Nowhere else to go. Skittish, bitter, mistrusting, she got a bartending job at a ghoul-owned bar named Otros and laid low. It felt like waiting. She didn’t know for what. 

:: When a kindred called Silk dropped a parcel by Otros, she recognized them from her dreams: Luna’s favored packmate, her most beloved. The possessive, obsessive feelings, the bloodbonded intimacy. Tula was overwhelmed by it. Silk, too, sensed something magnetic in Tula, and after only a few interactions they were inseparable. Is it the blood? Is it real? Are those things mutually exclusive? 

:: Tula must, in the near future, tell Silk about Luna. Was Luna, via dream-memory, nudging Tula toward her former packmate, delivering this diablerist into the arms of revenge? Was Luna simply tormenting Tula with memories of love and belonging, because -- despite all of her privilege and opportunities -- it was something she never had? Is this obsession all Tula’s own doing, the result of her fundamental inability to practice restraint? To what extent is Tula’s free will impacted by Luna’s blood? And how much does it even matter?

:: Tune in next week. Or next month. Or whenever we figure it out. 

[spaceboisstuff]

I was going to draw human heads but got distracted and drew my oc human...fully rendered...

[six-legged-sea-leopard]

WHAT is their group name

[ntaras]

here’s a snippet from a mk1 era fic i’m writing including my oc luna that i am proud of anyways enjoy

She knows she’s bleeding but it’s easy to ignore it. It isn’t like the empty taste of iron that fills her body when she can feel her lungs burning- the taste she had to take and take and wipe away only to spread it further. 

The skin she bit into was soft around her nails, and she licked the blood away and tasted nothing. The blood was small and couldn’t be smeared inside her bones and it damaged nothing. It was nothing. It was just skin she bit into and chewed at and she sank into the place called nothing. 

It wasn't even warm blood, but it wasn’t cold either. 

“Stop that.”

She thinks that’s the first time she got mad at him. The skin of her finger still in her mouth she glared at for just a second. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to bludgeon him. She wanted more, and sucked at the bead of blood that came from the skin she gnawed at. 

He didn’t flinch at her glare. As quickly as it came, it went away, and she released her hand from her teeth.

She began picking at her skin, pinching it between her nails and ripping it off. She still felt his stare, but he didn’t say anything. He let her salivate at the dead skin. He let her want without giving.

[nkfanart]

I invite you to read my book "Space Riders One". The story currently has over 10 chapters. Enjoy reading

[light-suki]

Forever ❤️

Luna knows that Bakugo has her heart. And she is grateful for it, he’s waited for this and now they’re finally together forever.

[silvermoon424]

My core group of magical girl OCs, drawn by the amazingly talented @kiddysart 💖

🩷Erina

💜Iris

❤️Rhae

💙Luna

💛Flora

🖤Visenya

🤍Daenerys

[simonxriley]

Left: Luna (TROTSH) Middle: Cassie Barnes (fairy gone) Right: Flamma Vermillion (black clover)

I was tagged by the wonderful @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @carlosoliveiraa @lilywatt and

@imogenkol to use this picrew, thank you! 💜

taglist (opt in/out) @playstationmademe @sergeiravenov @leviiackrman @g0dspeeed @alexxmason

@isa-love-anime @faccal @justasmolbard @katsigian @theelderhazelnut

@cassietrn @carrionsflower @illmetbymoonlight @collinnmckinley @dickytwister

@dani-the-goblin @killerspinal

[kimberbohwrites]

Alright, I'm officially launching this. It's been a long time coming on this one. Dusk & Honey: Chapter One Next Chapter> Word Count: 4,157 Rated: Overall fic rating is Explicit, this chapter is SFW READ ON AO3 (or continued below) Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 >Halsin x Tav art by @ DARKURGETRASH on tumblr<

Summary: The story of my OC Tav, Luna and her experience during the timeline of the game, not modifying canon so much as adding more to the Halsin-romance path. Featuring: world-building, action, well-researched drow lore, hurt/comfort, slowburn Halsin romancing, and eventual smut. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS, we'll be exploring trauma in several areas including touching on some of the darker canon trauma faced by Halsin. Tags/Warnings: Eventual Smut, Enemies to Lovers, mildly they are gonna fight, Halsin Romance Route, Named Tav, Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Drow Culture , Half-Drow Tav, Anti-Drow Racism, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Baldur's Gate 3, Cleric Tav, Implied/Referenced S*xual Assault, (meaning the eventual discussion of Halsin's time in the underdark), Pining

Chapter One

Luna had seen a lot in her life but the events of the last tenday had left her unsettled and she didn’t care much for the feeling. It was probably the fact that she’d experienced true terror before in her past and she wasn’t keen to relive it again so soon. She was relatively young for her kind, only 50 or so years old, as a half-drow that settled her in her final years as a young adult. Were she human she might be considered middle aged or even older by the archaic standards by which they viewed women.

I guess that was something the drow do have right, holding our older women in reverence.

She shook the thought away, she knew the cost of that reverence was absolute tyranny under Lolth. Pushing her long white hair out of her eyes she peered out from her bedroll at her strange new companions. Sleep wouldn’t come easy for her and so she silently stood and retreated from the circle of safety in which they slept each night. Their forms were still, save for Karlach who let out a snore and a grunt every so often.

A tiefling barbarian powered by infernal mechanics, an vampiric elf with tragedy in his eyes, a cursed human man with too much mystery to make him simply a harmless wizard, a fairytale prince with a dark past, an alien from a different plane whose hardened armor likely shielded more than just her body, and another half human stuck worshipping a terrible goddess for unclear reasons.

The half smile that crept across her face in the moonlight held warmth. She couldn’t help but already feel a certain attachment to them. Was it too soon to call them friends? How does one describe a group of perfect strangers who are about to risk their lives together?   They were on the eve of storming a massive goblin war encampment. Where hopefully they’d be able to retrieve a Druid who might be able to heal them of the mindflayer tadpoles they’d found themselves infected with at the start of their adventure.

Halsin, they’d called him.

The handsome older tiefling at the grove seemed certain that if anyone could set everything to rights, it would be him. Luna held no love for the Druids of the Emerald Grove for she had seen their cruelty firsthand. While her Goddess, Eilstraee called her to good, it had been all she could do not to rip out the Druid Kagha’s throat when she had discovered her holding a child under the threat of death by a venomous snake. She could have killed a little tiefling girl all over a statue.

As a Cleric, her reverence for her Goddess was absolute but she was certain that the Dark Maiden wouldn’t call on her followers to kill children for removing a statue. Luna wasn’t educated in the ways of Sylvanus but surely he wouldn’t have wanted blood spilled over his idol. With a deep huff, she cleared the memory of Kagha from her mind and gazed up at the moonlight.

Moonbathing was her favorite thing to do since she’d made it to the surface. There wasn’t a moon or a sun in Menzoberanzan — just the Narbondel and the fairie fire of various shades that lit the cavernous spaces and houses, some bioluminescent flora and fauna existed as well. Largely, there was darkness and the bleakness of the Underdark had weighed heavy on her. They’d said it was because she was a “filthy half-breed” and that was why she couldn’t abide the Underdark. But the joke had been on every person who’d pursued her as she’d fled Menzoberranzan. Every member of the party was a full drow, a whole hunting party meant to eliminate her before she could escape the Underdark. Her survival had been mere dumb luck, because as she’d finally made it to the surface they’d overtaken her to discover it was a midday on a brilliantly sunny summer morning. They’d been forced to turn back, some falling to the ground in pain and being left by the group to suffer.

Luna had continued into the sun, her eyes and skin burned against the foreign rays of the sun — but that pain had been all that stood between her and freedom.

That had been almost 30 years ago but the memory still felt like a fresh wound in her mind. She forced the sounds of screaming and the curses chanted on the wind from the Clerics of Lolth. Instead, she let the moonlight kiss her skin as she offered her arms and her troubles up to the visage of her Goddess in her lunar form. Swaying lightly in the breeze as she allowed her muscles to ease and willed the stress and unease away. She scanned the reaches of her mind, her memories for something sweeter to replace them.

Images of perfect ripe berries, sunflowers, the yellowed and worn pages of her favorite book, and silver swords ringing true all flashed across her mind. Her favorite things never failed to bring a smile to her face. But something else, just a flash of something new had been in the mix: kind eyes and the warm words of the very Druid they currently sought to rescue.

The words were easy to know the source of, she had taken Halsin’s journal and his pipe from the Grove while Nettie hadn’t been looking. While she didn’t approve of stealing, she couldn’t help but want to know more about the Elf that everyone spoke so highly of on both sides of the simmering conflict. Besides, she had told herself repeatedly that she would return them to him as soon as she rescued him so it truly wasn’t stealing. Many of her nights were sleepless and reading over his notes and journal entries had been like getting to know the man a through one-sided correspondence. Luna couldn’t help but notice an obvious warmth in the tone of his words, even in something as clinical as his research notes.

The flowers were drawn so lovingly, as were the animals depicted in the quite talented sketches that accompanied many of the notes. She thought of the soft Druid that must have drawn them — probably meek and scared in the hands of their goblin captors. Her resolve strengthened.

The kind eyes took her a moment longer to connect, but after a moment a blush crept across her dusky, storm-blue skin. They were Zevlor’s eyes, of course, the kind and handsome older tiefling that had sent them in search of Halsin in the first place. Luna had always had a soft spot for people who care for those around them who are weaker. Zevlor’s dedication to his kin had been admirable.

She’d wished she hadn’t talked him out of laying out Aradin, that failed adventurer, but alas it has been the right thing to do. Violence was nessecary, yes, but only as a last resort when the time for words was passed. With the new lightness of spirit provided by her meditation came the clarity of the truth before her. It was very likely that unavoidable violence lay on the horizon for Luna. It wasn’t that she was afraid for herself, as a tempest Cleric, her ability to heal and destroy had already made her valuable for her camp-mates.

Luna recalled the stunned look on Gale of Waterdeep’s face when his thunderwave had missed during the battle at the front gate of the Druid Grove where they’d first happened upon Wyll, Zevlor, and Aradin. She had stepped up right after and with a deft hand, thunderwaved two goblins from the top of the outcropping on which they’d chosen to make their stand. The goblins had perished and her party had been able to fight its way to the small group in front of the gate to rescue them from the Worg and Bugbear which had surrounded them.

“What kind of Cleric are you exactly?”

Gale had done little to disguise the shock in his voice as he asked that question. It was colored with both amusement and surprise. Luna had smiled sweetly at the question and offered her answer. In truth she had barely avoided the wizard and her other companions. She was powerful but like the storms she wielded, her power was unruly and dangerous.

No, it wasn’t herself that she was afraid for.

Zevlor popped into her mind once more, triggered by the memory. His dusky crimson skin, the wrinkles and ridges that adorned his rugged face, and the nervous twitch of his tail as they’d spoken together in private in his cave. With a start, she shook his face loose of her mind and started back for the campfire. Sleep would be important to the success of tomorrow’s battle. She had already let Astarion feed on her, she couldn’t handle any distractions or weaknesses.

She climbed back into her thin bedroll, flat on her back to look at the stars as she let the sweet sounds of the evening carry her to sleep.

—*—*——*—*—

The battles had been trying, but they had lived to tell the tale — but only just. Sneaking in through a weak wall in the temple facade had proven a key strategy, she was grateful for Wyll and his ability to blast down the rubble. It had allowed them to bypass the leaders and goblins within as they’d made their way back to where Astarion had spotted a bear being tortured by the goblins.

It was very likely, this was their Druid but they had no way of knowing for sure.

Only Wyll and Karlach had supported her in her decision to free the bear without knowing fully. But her companions had followed her into battle nonetheless. The large brown cave bear had in fact, been the Druid Halsin and he’d noted her potential madness at freeing a bear with no questions asked.

The moment Luna had laid eyes on him out of wildshape form, something had caught in her chest. Something she’d never felt before. She’d seen many handsome men and women in her time, surely this wasn’t just about Halsin being easy on the eyes. He was an altogether unexpected thing, the soft and meek Druid she had been anticipating was instead an unusually large elf, built more like an orc than any elf she’d ever laid eyes upon. It was another thought for her to bury in her mind for another time. There was additional bloodshed ahead of them and it didn’t look like it was something they would return alive from.

When Halsin had offered to go with them to finish off the goblin leadership and the hundreds of goblins within the ruined temple of Selune, Luna had eagerly agreed. She found the presence of a large cave bear padding softly behind her, oddly soothing despite the way he seemed to unsettle everyone else in her party.

The full drow that had awaited them in an antechamber, Minthara had chilled Luna to the bone. There had been such hate in her eyes and it had forced bitter memories to the forefront of her mind. Like savage childhood beatings from Lolth’s favored that looked just like the cruel drow woman, who they’d come upon plotting the mass murder of the Druid grove with the eagerness of someone picking what to eat for dinner. Killing her had been easier than she would have liked to admit. 

Halsin and Karlach had lead the charge in, with Luna, Astarion, and Wyll on their heels. But Minthara’s focus had lasered in on Luna.

“Oh, whelps like you are quite rare for a reason, half-breed”

The Paladin’s words had settled on her like ice that threatened to paralyze her and she had felt the familiar panic rise in her chest one more. She was never going back, she’d sooner die. Minthara could tell she had hit a nerve and continued her line of verbal attacks, coupled with brutal physical blows to Karlach.

“Usually, someone would do you the kindness of putting an abomination like you out of your misery as a babe, how uncared for you were that they couldn’t have spared you the shame.”

When it happened, her heart had been beating so hard that it pounded in her ears like some artificer’s creation. Her blood ran cold and the rage she felt within had let loose to a blissful emptiness that overwhelmed Luna like the tide pulling her out. What had come next was a surprise to everyone but her, oh she knew what would happen and it had been too late to stop it.

Luna’s power had exploded it out in a violent storm surge of thunder and lightning, like a typhoon contained within a dropped flask — it engulfed everything around it. Wyll and Astarion were lucky enough to be standing far enough back to simply be knocked to the ground and hit with bits of debris from the blast. Minthara, Halsin, and Karlach couldn’t say the same.

The sound of Minthara’s scream growing quieter before fading away completely as she had plummeted to her death in the cavern below them was all Luna could hear as her eyes had tried to refocus from the blast. Tears had already brimmed in her eyes, if Karlach and Halsin had been standing in the wrong place — not even her healing magic could bring them back from that fall.

“Luna! For gods sake, help!” Came Wyll’s voice on the ledge of the pit. His arm had been latched to the unconscious form of Halsin, dangling in the cavern. He had been knocked out of wildshape and was elven again. Astarion was clinging to Wyll’s ankles and pulled back with all of his might to try to stop the warlock from sliding off the edge after the Druid.

She’d bit back the forming tears and dove down to the ledge and spread herself out flat, grabbing Halsin’s other arm. Still, the three of them weren’t enough to haul the Druid back to safety and she could feel them slipping after him.

“We need to let go damnit!” Astarion had hissed as he continued to hold Wyll’s legs.

Luna knew he had meant it to save their lives, but still she had held fast and pulled in an attempt to accomplish the impossible. She was unwilling to let Halsin die alone because of her foolish lack of control. She had been so ready to accept her death, she had just needed to get the other two to let go.

“Take Wyll!”

She’d shouted back at Astarion, hoping he’d choose to save the two of them as opposed to dying. The look of shock on his face had been new.

“No one is letting go, solider” Had come a groggy voice over their heads as Karlach had reached over the edge and grabbed Halsin by the back of his tunic. She had clearly been knocked unconscious by the blast and was bleeding from a large gash on her head. Her arrival was like a hero of old, auspiciously timed when all hope seemed to be lost. Tav wondered if Karlach had become used to having to save the day constantly as a result of her hard decade in Avernus.

Her fingers had still clung to the massive Druid’s arm, his skin slick from the battle but her grip felt more secure. Karlach had begun to slowly pull Halsin back up as the three of them scrambled to help. Incredibly, with her help it had been easy to move him.

Luna scrambled to her feet to make room for the massive Druid’s form and she’d encouraged Karlach to lay down as well.

“Please Karlach, i’m so sorry this is all my fault, let me heal you”

The guilt that threatened to paralyze her had risen like a tide from within. It’s all my fault. She had willed a steady breath into her lungs as Karlach settled before her. The moon controls the tides. She had repeated it to herself over and over. Before long her heart had begun to beat steadier and she had allowed herself to relax after a few moments.

Looking Karlach over had revealed some painful looking, but easily healed superficial wounds. Luna had quickly rummaged through her pouch to find the bottles she kept wrapped in grimy scraps of fabric so they didn’t break.

“Got a bottle of the strong stuff while you’re in there, solider?”

Karlach’s jokes had seemed quick but the wince she had made revealed that the humor was a simple front. Finally she had located the bottles she was looking for, glowing red and freshly brewed by her that morning. She’d always loved herbalism and luckily there were a lot of herbs and other reagents found on the road.

“Drink this, I promise you’ll feel good as new, friend.”

“Bottoms up, mate”

She’d then been able to turn her attention to the Druid, she had found him being tended to by the less capable hands of Wyll and Astarion. The latter being the real culprit. Wyll had removed his jacket and forced Astarion out of his to create a pillow under Halsin’s head. Halsin had appeared awake but only barely, his eyes looking up at the cavern ceiling above him without focus.

His eyes had seemed to try to find hers as soon as she had entered his field of vision when she leaned down to look him over.

“By… Sylvanus” He had murmured “My lady”

She’d found blood pooled on the ground under his head and more running slowly from one of his ears. It was then she bad been positive, her stomach sunk slightly at the truth, the bleeding in combination with the difficulty focusing had meant massive head trauma. Fatal, if unhealed.

“Shhhhh, it’s just a bump on the head, you’re going to be okay”

Wyll had glanced down at the blood pooled on the ground and then back to her, bristling at her obvious lie to the Druid. Sure, it had been much more than a bump on the head — But Luna planned to make good on her promise. There had been no need to panic the large elf. She liked Wyll, he was brave and had the makings of the kind of hero she’d always heard about in tales that had inspired her. But he was also young.

She had shot Wyll a firm look before turning her attention back to the Druid. Luna had then gently eased his head down flat on to the ground and removed the makeshift pillow from under him. She’d tossed them over toward Astarion who had immediately taken issue with the state of his jacket. He’d held the bloodstained garment aloft with a look of disdain.

“Would you look at the state of —“

 Luna had fixed Astarion with one of her harder looks and his sentence had trailed off. While Luna never liked to issue threats of violence unless absolutely necessary — she also wasn’t above letting someone know they were toying with the line, with a single glance. Growing up the way she had and being alone for so long, that look had been a life saving mechanism.

She’d turned her attention to her charge once more and had found him even more dazed than he had been only moments before, a smile had spread across his broad face as his eyes tried hard to focus on her. Something had stirred like a tickle in her chest at the sweet look on the dazed man’s face. What was wrong with her? He was dying for goddesses sake and she’d allowed a momentary distraction.

“It’s you” he’d murmured

“Shhhhh”

“Eilstraee, I saw you in a painting…” Halsin’s voice had trailed off.

Luna had fought back the blush she’d felt at such an obvious but flattering mistake. He was concussed and needed healing, he didn’t know what he was talking about. She’d hushed him gently again and closed her eyes. She had looked to the night sky within her and the beautiful pendant of the moon hanging on its canvas. A deep breath had centered her within her power as she summoned the strongest healing spell she had been capable of in that moment.

In hindsight it had probably wasteful to expend the most powerful healing spell she had on hand before they’d dealt with Dror Ragzlin. Still, it had worked out for the best, the hobgoblin had been no match for a full strength cave bear blessed with the might of her goddess. Of course he’d been helped by a freshly healed and mended Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, and herself.

They’d agreed there would have to be a discussion on what exactly happened when Minthara had pushed her too far. She’d begged for their patience and to respect her privacy. It was the same respect given to all of them. They had agreed with varying levels of ease — some outright vowing to pry it out of her. There was a lot she should have probably said to her new companions but she couldn’t begin to understand how to start. For now she was content in respecting their secrets and begging them to let her have hers.

They were grateful to reach camp and the rest of their traveling companions that night. Gale had prepared a stew of foraged roots and some fish he’d magicked out of the Chinothar. It bubbled on a smaller fire the wizard maintained just for his nightly prepared meals. Always ready for whenever his companions were ready to eat as he lounged in a chair nearby, reading a heavy tome.

Strangely, even now as they began their post-battle and evening rituals, her mind drifted back to sweet moment when Halsin had awoken freshly healed. She’d been holding one of his hands as the spell took hold. As he had come back to full consciousness, his thumb had begun to stroke her hand tenderly. Luna had tried not to think much of the action until the Druid had sheepishly cleared his throat and pulled his hand away from her grasp with an awkward chuckle.

But now, standing outside her tent, gathering her supplies for a bath her mind drifted back to the gentle touch of his large hand in hers. Why did she feel so strange after healing a man she’d just met? Sure, the elf was attractive but she was sure it wasn’t that. She’d taken people to bed before and none had caused such an unusual reaction. Logic clearly pointed to a romantic affliction. However drow were not known for being romantic and in that regard Luna was more drow than human.

Maybe I should just bed the giant elf and get him out of my system.

Her goddess embodied love of all types but romantic love had always seemed beyond her understanding. Eilstraee had been patient always in their meditations, but deep down she worried her goddess believed such a thing beyond her. Not that it matters and I’m missing much, she thought.   She enjoyed carnal relations and had never met anyone to change that to anything deeper. She shook these questions and frustrations from her mind as started off toward the river, sundries in hand.

By the roaring fire, several of her companions had already gathered around warm bowls of food, fresh from their baths. Tomorrow they were due back at the Grove, Halsin having already headed there right after the fall of Dror Ragzlin to set the escalating conflict to rights. She continued past her companions with a quiet smile, polite but quick enough to not invite company.

As she scrubbed the grime and blood of the day away her mind drifted to Minthara again. She’d been a Baenre. After so long free of that nightmare and yet the conflicts and horrors of her people had found her already. A Baenre. Minthara’s family had essentially ruled Menzoberranzan since not long after its founding. Of course Lolth’s will was the final word, but the Matron Mother of House Banere had only the Spider Queen herself above her in station.

Her heart began to race. Even a Half Drow like herself, kept out of sight as a servant and whipping post, knew about House Baenre. All Minthara had probably ever known was violence and at the end, she’d died a violent death. In her chest, her heart heaved at that thought. Her eyes brimmed with tears, she refused to allow to fall, she wouldn’t cry for that monster.

Am I any better than they are after this?

 As she lingered in the water the tears had fallen anyway, carving little rivers of their own in the blood and muck on her cheeks — the evidence of her guilt. She scrubbed harder at her face in the broken reflection on the surface of the water.

Scrub as hard as you want, the truth will always be there. You’re just. like. them.

[spaceboisstuff]

Where the character started vs her now

She did trans her gender from femboy to actual girl

[arklayraven]

wip

Just had this need to work on it more lol

[ntaras]

Would you be willing to speak of this OC you added to the Lin Kuei brothers' dynamic? (Just kidding, you have no choice. 🫴)

HI i’d love to talk about her!!! i’ve been purposefully quiet about her because i’ve been making some changes to her + waiting to finish writing a fic about her 

but because you give me no choice i’ll talk about her

i’ll talk about her in context of her role in the new era because that’s what i’m really currently focused on in regards to her. that and her role in the previous timeline(s) are currently to much of a mess to coherently write about because i’m reworking her previous roles 

ANYWAYS. her name is luna which i did take from the “look to la luna” easter egg because 11 year old me wanted her name to somehow directly reference something in mortal kombat. she is kuai liang’s daughter even though i do view/headcanon kuai liang as someone who would not have kids, but i think it’s fun to bring that element into their relationship. 

the usual backstory for her goes that when kuai liang was a teenager he met a girl named nariyaana (whom i mostly refer to as yaana) and their relationship can honestly be described as a very quick-paced love because they were both so young when pursuing each other. like had they not met when younger, they would never be together because their relationship is solely based on them being young. so far in every timeline yaana has died during childbirth, resulting in kuai liang being a single dad and that moment marking the change from his youthful naivety and growing into the mature man we usually see him as. 

in mk12 before he became the god of fire and was still making his own timeline, liu kang made sure kuai liang and yaana would meet so luna could be born, but what he didn’t decide was when luna would be born. one of the things that frustrated me about kuai liang in mk12 was how he was already treated as a character dealing with so many inner demons and very quickly became this wise and flawless leader, so luna’s inclusion allows me to dump a whole bunch of hardships onto him that make him more tolerable for me. and one of those hardships is the quick and rushed love he had with yaana, resulting in her pregnant and unfortunately dying in childirth at 16 and him bieng a father at 16 (i also decided on doing that because ik the characters are meant to be on the younger side, so making him a teen dad was the route i went with trying to make him as young as i could when the actual story would happen). 

ik cryomancer used to be established as something that was able to be harnessed at an older age (with the exception of the ice brothers and frost), but for mk12 i’m establishing that it’s something that begins to develop at a younger age. i’m still unsure what to do with pyromancy but the idea i’m going with is that it’s something that can very rarely develop in cryomancers instead of cryomancy. 

what happened with luna is that her powers were not showing at all and as she grew older and past the age cryomancy develops (and she showed no signs of pyromancy) it was assumed that she didn’t get her father’s genes of either cryomancy or pyromancy. but eventually at around 10 years old she reveals to bi-han that she does have cryomancy (albeit developed very late and a weaker form of cryomancy), and at that moment bi-han saw potential in her and became her mentor and eventually choose her to be his heir to the lin kuei. 

before i get into the dynamic she has with the brothers (her father and uncles) i need to establish the most important thing about her is her inner powers and her physical body. the reason why her cryomancy developed so late and is weak is because her body is meant for someone who has pyromancy, but she was born with cryomancy. her body is constantly struggling to keep up with itself, but i’ll get more into that in a bit because that’s like one of the most important factors to her relationship with her family. 

bi-han is luna’s mentor, and he chose that role himself after she revealed her cryomancy to him. and the reason he chose to be her mentor is because he 1. Saw potential in her and 2. wanted to build her up to become something greater than the current lin kuei. her issues with her cryomancy and her body already pose a tough a life for her but bi-han’s insertion into her life as her mentor makes things worse for her, as he’s really tough on her. 

bi-han himself was mostly trained by his dad, so a lot of methods bi-han uses are from his dad. BUT the thing with bi-han is that he is also trying to further himself from his father and teach luna differently, but luna still experiences the same harshness bi-han experienced through his own training with his father. it plays with the idea that cryomancy just inherently causes not just physical pain, but a specific isolation that no one else can understand. because of this (and for other reasons) luna struggles making connections with other people and forms a unique connection with bi-han that she cannot form with her own father.

it’s eventually why she chose to stay with bi-han rather than flee with kuai liang and tomas during the story. her inherit cryomancy bound her to bi-han while also she felt like she lost a sense of who she was and felt guilt for having something that sevrerd her relationship with her dad, so it was easier to let him go rather than go with him. 

her physicality (which is constantly causing her pain) is her father’s, while her inner self (which is also constantly causing her pain) is bi-han’s. she’s kind of like the physical representation of the dispute between the two brothers. just like her body cannot naturally keep up with herself, she cannot handle being stuck between her family’s war without it causing immense confusion with herself.  

that’s the most condensed summary i can offer because other wise you would be getting a 100k word response from me lmao. but thank you for asking!!!!!!!!! i adore luna and i can only appreciate mk12 because of her

[nkfanart]

Good morning or good evening (depending on what time you read this post) in the first stage of getting to know my OC Lyra from the book "Space Riders One" on Ao3. In the last post I briefly discussed what power Lyra will have. From now on I will start listing skills.

Void Vortex

I also encourage you to check out @onyxonline comics. If it weren't for her stories, this book wouldn't have been created at all.