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blimbo-buddy · 7 months ago

Note

👪 FOR MULCH…. PLAESE

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

Oh boy, where to begin with Queen Mulch and her family.

(Feel free to send more asks with the characters listed here)

Her family was one controlled by King Sycamore, it's an abusive environment where Sycamore wanted to ensure his kids are dependent on him, he wants to ensure that they'll be like him, rule like him, cutting them all into perfect little shapes for his own benefit. He especially pushes all of this onto Mulch, who he had chosen to be his successor

The control and need for influence over his kids goes into the three of them eating some parts of his flesh so that they can all still be connected with him

This is something that's a cultural thing within the Slug kingdoms

Queen Mulch and King Sycamore

She wants to believe that he held real, genuine love for her and her siblings. She desperately clings onto the good side of her dad, he showered her in gifts, praise, all sorts of luxuries that a slug could ask for, there had to be some care deep down, right?

Perhaps there was, or perhaps there wasn't. It eats away at Mulch, trying to figure out whether the slug who emotionally hurt her actually had good intentions. She feels shitty whenever she finds herself angry at her dad, both in the past and in the present, she feels like a fucking brat sometimes. Her dad gave her everything, right?

What did his face look like?

Queen Mulch and Ditch

Ditch is Mulch's older sister and is a lot more distant with her. The fact that their dad favored Mulch way more than Ditch really made her a little more aggressive towards Mulch, both physically and verbally. Especially as kids, Ditch saw Mulch as being undeserving of the attention that King Sycamore gave to her.

Ditch is a little selfish, she thinks that her accomplishments need and should be acknowledged by her dad, even the small ones

Of course though it makes sense, while Sycamore did pay attention to her and Cattail, it wasn't as much as Mulch gotten

But Ditch didn't understand the hurt that Sycamore put Mulch through, she didn't understand the situation because she was just a child, they all were.

Though I think when King Sycamore died, she glanced over at her little sister, uncomfortably chewing on the prepared flesh of the king, and in that moment felt her heart soften a bit, she began to understand the stress that Mulch would be put through. So her and Cattail tried their best to help her

Now Ditch just finds herself at a weird mid-point on how she feels about her sister, her father. Even now that she's the head of the royal guard, she finds herself wondering how she feels about her sister, if she even considers Mulch her sister anymore.

Queen Mulch and Cattail

I'm a little more unsure with Mulch and Cattail's relationship but I'll try and give a working outline:

Cattail is Mulch's older brother. While Ditch can be a bit more verbally aggressive, Cattail is more passive-aggressive towards Mulch, especially when they were younger. I like to think that Cattail would always have some snide little passive-aggressive remark to make at Mulch's expense, maybe to also demean her work a little bit

Although when they're all older, he's a lot nicer than he was before. Of course he can still be passive aggressive towards Mulch whenever she comes by for advice from him after he's done teaching for the day. However, there's one thing that he's never really done, one thing that causes Mulch to be a bit more hesitant towards him

He. Never. Apologized.

He doesn't think that the shit he said as a kid would still matter, even if it hurt Mulch

But it's not like he doesn't apologize on purpose. He thinks that him helping Mulch out when King Sycamore died and she was thrust into the position of Queen was an actual apology. He genuinely thinks that he's made up with his sister already.

He likes to say that "Actions speak louder than words", but what he ironically fails to understand is that to Mulch, she doesn't see these good actions as a good apology.

Ditch is more physical, so a lot of her apologies (or half apologies) are usually through actions

But Cattail is more verbal, so what she wants is a verbal apology from him

In general

King Sycamore completely fucked up his kids, at the end of the day he made them all hyper-dependent on him all because of his own selfish desires. The family is one cursed with selfishness.

When he died, a huge hole was just left behind, none of them knew what to do because Sycamore always told them what to do, how to feel, what to say

It's unfortunate that, in the end, King Sycamore got his way in a sense

His kids think back on what he would do if he was in their position, they ask themselves what he would say, how he would approach a situation. They would try to be just like King Sycamore

#blimbo rambles #ask #bug world no mercy #queen mulch #king sycamore #ditch bwnm #cattail bwnm

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writernopal · 1 year ago

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Happy WBW! I want to know about the clothes in your world! What is a typical outfit for your OC(s)? Are clothes typically made from a single type of fabric, or is there a variety? If so, does the availability of these fabrics vary by location or social class?

~tabswrites

Happy WBW, Tess!

Oh man I have to keep this to a minimum here haha because otherwise the answer will be too long winded!

What is a typical outfit for your OC(s)?

Mariel: She typically wears dresses that go about mid-shin length, simple leather shoes or sandals, and might have a cloak on if it's cold! If she's doing any kind of chore, she usually has an apron on.

Axtapor: He usually wears baggy trousers, some kind of sash around his waist (looks like a skirt kind of??), simple shirt, and a coat. No shoes here! Lizardfolk don't wear them.

Fay: She likes to wear very deep cut blouses and fitted trousers with some kind of boot. She also likes big belts and her favorite accessory besides her sapphire necklace are the bones she wears in her hair.

Wilkes: He is very stylish and put together so he usually wears the billowy and expensive robes that are worn in the Holtep Empire along with the traditional pants that are part of the ensemble.

Are clothes typically made from a single type of fabric, or is there a variety? If so, does the availability of these fabrics vary by location or social class?

There is a huge variety in the fabrics that exist in Oepus! Silk, velvet, cotton, linen, jute, hemp, wool, and many more! These are often combined in the outfits that people wear to accommodate the seasons and the climate of where they live. As far as availability, I think its a bit of both social class and location. For example, Masgul linen is a special export from the island of Kotan, that is widely considered to be less fine than other linen weaves but because it is only made on Kotan, it's cost can be quite high unless you're a local! So if you find someone wearing it outside of Kotan, you can assume they are probably pretty wealthy. Which makes it interesting when people of Kotan travel because everyone thinks they're stuck up lol.

#thanks for the ask!#nopal answers #aasoaf #aasoaf lore #axtapor #mariel #fay #wilkes #clothes worldbuilding #wbw

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halzore · 3 years ago

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Some Caf and a Commander Pt. 2

Commander Fox x OC ----- Part 1 Here

Welcome to Part 2 of this series, this time featuring Thorn in all of his brotherly goodness. Feedback/interaction always appreciated, let me know what you like, if there is something you want to see. My ask box is always open. If you would like to be tagged in future parts, let me know!

Word Count: 964

Contains: shenanigans, Fox being a grumpy shit, some cute moments -- Practically all one could want in a Fox fic.

Thorn didn’t get the rank of Commander by being blasé and it didn’t take a genius to notice the constant resignation oozing out of Fox’s office all day. That’s why Thorn double took as he passed a chirpy Fox in the hallway, clutching a pastel pink flimsi cup. Seeing Fox by the light of day was rare, seeing him with a spring in his step was even rarer.

Thorn didn’t get the rank of Commander by being blasé, but he definitely got the rank of being an annoying little brother by sticking his nose where it shouldn’t have been.

He wrapped lightly on Fox’s door.

“What is it?” Thorn took that as an invitation to wedge the door open and pop his head in.

“So… what’s going on.” The cheeky lilt in Thorn’s voice was not lost on Fox, who leant back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.

“Senatorial reports,” Fox technically wasn’t lying, he did have senatorial reports open on his data-pad, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Nothing else?” The question was dripping with presumption, Fox just stared his brother down.

“Someone else perhaps?” Thorn pressed. He was trying his best to hold back his chuckles, and was very close to failing miserably.

“Get out of my office before I assign you KP duty.” The classic Fox glare was back and Thorn couldn’t help but giggle.

“You can’t assign me KP duty, I’m a Commander.” He giggled as he withdrew his head from Fox’s office and shut the door behind him.

“I still outrank you dimwit.” Fox called through the door, clearly unimpressed with his brother’s antics.

Thorn continued his daily rounds, while he had lots of fun annoying his brother, Fox had managed to dodge telling Thorn anything.

~~~

Days rolled by, and Thorn was suspicious. Everyday, around mid-morning, Fox slipped out of his office onto the street. And on one occasion Thorn was tailing behind him. Thorn watched as Fox darted in and out of the morning bustle on the Courscanti streets, before watching him make a beeline to the right into a little bricked corner shop.

Thorn jogged to close the distance between him and the shop, to not lose visual on his brother. Fox was standing at the end of the counter, helmet off, talking to someone. Thorn walked into the store. The bell jingled behind him.

“Oh, Fox, you brought a friend today. I’m Fay” Fay smiled to the commander as she worked on her orders. Thorn slapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder, Fox grimaced.

“I’m Thorn, nice to meet you, Fox has told me all about you.” Thorn couldn’t help but smile, Fox shrivelled up and grimaced harder.

“Really? Hopefully good things.” Red was creeping up Fay’s neck as she spoke. “Have you got an order Thorn? On me.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Thorn responded. “Fox here drinks enough caf for all of us.” Fox didn’t think he could ever hate Thorn, but here he was wishing he could catapult his brother into the lava pits of Mustafar. “And don’t worry, Fox always says good things.” Thorn winked at Fay, who quickly smiled and turned away.

Fay finished up her caf for Fox and then ran around to the other end of the counter, shoving something in a couple of bags. She handed the goods to Fox.

“Your caf Fox, and a Caramel Slice for the both of you.” She gave Fox a smile, a smile that Fox found himself thinking about during briefings when he was supposed to be focussed. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Thorn too?”

“Just me tomorrow.” Fox replied. “Thorn has had enough of an outing for the rest of the rotation. I’ll see you then Fay.” Fox began to walk out.

“Looking forward to it,” She called as they left.

The bell jingled as the two guardsmen crossed the threshold onto the street. Fox rounded on Thorn.

“Care to tell me what in the blazing hells you were doing following me?” Fox was furious, his voice always got extra careful when he was furious. Thorn had already taken a bite out of his caramel slice.

“You were happy, it was strange.” Shrugging, Thorn took another bite out of the dessert. Fox whacked him on the back of the head.

“Can you take this seriously?”

“What, it’s tasty.” Thorn gestured at the slice. “Plus, now I know its a girl and not an underground illegal Massiff-fighting ring, I don’t have to report you.”

Fox sighed. Why couldn’t he have one slice of peace away from it all, the senators, the chancellor and Thorn’s good-for-nothing nosiness.

“You don’t speak a word of this to anyone, or else. Got it?” He levelled at Thorn. Thorn nodded in agreement. They both wandered back to the Senate buildings in silence, both munching away at their sweet treats, Fox sipping his caf.

Fox tossed his cup in the bin at the entryway to the guard base. The pink cup sat on top of the rubbish revealing little black writing. Thorn whistled.

“Fox, you player.” Fox looked at his brother in confusion. Thorn gestured to the recently disposed cup. Fox retrieved the cup, rolling it in his hands so he could read the little black writing.

Fox, my comm channel is in with your caramel slice, feel free to use it. Love Fay.

Thorn was grinning, Fox was desperately rummaging inside the flimsi bag for whatever Fay had hidden. And he found it, a small white napkin with a number scribbled on it. Fox pocketed it, and glared daggers at Thorn.

“You tell no one.” He threatened.

“Only if you call her.” Thorn grinned. “If you don’t, I will.”

“Back off, she gave me her number, not you.” Fox said. “And fine, I’ll call it.”

Taglist: @peacefulwizardfox @leias-left-hair-bun @this-smh-turned-into-a-cw-site @chewychewyque @alderaani @marvel-starwars-nerd @thegoodbatch @a-lil-perspective (please let me know if you want to be taken off or put on this list :)

#commander fox #commander fox x OC #tcw #commander thorn #some caf series #halzore writes #clone wars imagine #clone wars fanfiction #courscant guard #the clone wars

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rhaniel-legacy · 3 years ago

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Theron Shan’s appreciation week > DAY 6 - AU!

I’ve been really torn about this theme, there’s so many AU! I’d want to write T _ T But the Battlestar Galactica AU! was one of my oldest and a favorite, plus it’s a big one including many of my OCs across different fandoms! (Sadly I won’t have the time to add two of my favorite alternate versions of OCs: Ella (who’s from Final Fantasy 7 originally) and Nora (who’s from Guild Wars 2)).

For those of you who don't know a thing about Battlestar Galactica: it’s a scifi/space opera/drama/adventure/thriller/post-apo tv show. The first version of it came out in the late 70s. As for the version I base my AU! on, it was broadcasted on Syfy in mid 2000s. The story is simple: humans live on 12 colonies across the galaxy, they are technologically advanced enough to create starships, FTL travels, and of course their soon-to-be-parricides children … the Cylons. After the last war and having disappeared for 40 years, they are back and humanity finds itself undergoing a generalized holocaust. The only survivors now live on a small fleet of ships under the leadership of the Battlestar Galactica and his commander Bill Adama, as well as Colonial One and the sole survivor of the government of the Twelves President Laura Roslin. There’s 4 seasons, 100 episodes (if I include the webisodes), an amazing cast and an absolutely awesome soundtrack from Richard Gibbs and Bear McCreary. You can watch almost all of it right now on Prime video if you want to give it try ^_^

Now enough small talk and I hope you’ll have fun reading what my twisted brain came with!

Day 6 > AU!

Characters > Theron Shan, Jonas Balkar, oc: Ran Archer (here referred with her birth name ‘Lara’)

Context: season 1 episode 8 (the context will become pretty explicit if you remember what happened during this specific episode :P)

Note: best OST from the series to accompany your reading is ‘Flesh and bone’ ;)

@theronshanweek-official

Cloud 9 - Quelques minutes avant le bon PRL

- Theron tu es sûr de toi ?

Habituellement, Jonas Balkar n’était pas le genre d’homme à se montrer si prudent, surtout lorsqu’il s’agissait d’une belle femme. Sa réticence à le croire commençait sérieusement à taper sur les nerfs de son collègue.

- Jonas, je suis formel j’ai déjà rencontré cette femme sur Caprica, répliqua Theron Shan avec véhémence. Je l’ai rencontrée, et j’ai même bu un verre avec elle, et puis on …

L’homme n’acheva pas sa phrase et passa une main sur sa mâchoire.

- Et vous avez quoi … parlé de la pluie et du beau temps le lendemain matin sur l’oreiller ? demanda Jonas en haussant un sourcil. Theron, ce n’est pas parce qu’elle ne t’a pas rappelé que ça veut dire que c’est une cylon !

Theron mit ses mains sur les hanches, son regard fixé sur le sol. Il fulminait et semblait se retenir de mettre un crochet du droit dans le nez déjà bien amoché de son camarade.

- Tu ne sais même pas où elle était quand l’attaque est survenue, reprit Jonas. Rends-toi à l’évidence, elle a très bien pu trouver un moyen de s’échapper de la planète avant l’holocauste. Tu n’en sais rien !

Les yeux ambres de Theron se plongèrent dans ceux de son collègue. Ses traits se détendirent et devinrent implorants.

- Jonas ... S’il te plaît ... Fais-moi confiance sur ce coup-là.

------------------------

Transporteur Gemenon - 2 heures après le dernier saut

Elle ne l’avait pas quitté des yeux une seule seconde. Quand il était apparu derrière la porte vitrée. Quand le garde la lui avait ouverte. Quand il avait jeté nonchalamment un dossier sur la table métallique. Quand il avait tiré la chaise de l’autre côté de celle-ci avant de s’y installer. Son regard d’un gris acier avait détaillé chaque geste comme si elle cherchait à déceler quelque chose chez lui.

Sans doute une ouverture. Pour me rompre le cou ou pour me provoquer dès que j’ouvrirai la bouche ... ça, ça reste encore à voir, songea Theron.

Il prit quelques secondes pour la jauger à son tour. Elle ne se départissait pas de son petit sourire arrogant. Il faisait chaud dans cette pièce, un peu de sueur coulait le long de ses tempes, trempant quelques-unes des mèches argentées qui encadraient son visage. Le débardeur noir qu’elle portait moulait son buste et laissait généreusement percevoir le haut de sa poitrine. Theron se surprit à admirer le teint laiteux de sa peau et ses lèvres légèrement entrouvertes. Une goutte de transpiration coula brusquement vers la naissance de son décolleté. Son regard était plongé dans le sien, ses yeux brillaient avec intensité. Cette … machine se sentait tout à fait à son aise. Bien. Il allait faire en sorte que ça ne dure pas.

Theron appuya ses bras contre la table, joignit ses mains en entrelaçant ses doigts. Mais avant qu’il n’ait pu prononcer le moindre mot, elle le devança.

- C’est un honneur d’enfin vous rencontrer Theron. J’attendais ce moment en tête à tête avec impatience.

Il referma la bouche. Ses sourcils se haussèrent.

- Me rencontrer hein ? Non je crois pas, on se connait déjà vous et moi.

Elle se redressa sur sa chaise, du moins autant qu’elle le pouvait avec les mains menottées fermement dans le dos. Elle plissa les yeux sans se départir de sa moue amusée.

- Est-ce qu’on aurait déjà eu l’occasion de faire connaissance ?

Son sourire s’élargit.

- Aaah … De manière intime peut-être ?

Elle leva la tête, légèrement vers le côté pour dévoiler son cou. Le regard de Theron glissa sur sa gorge ainsi présentée et dériva vers son buste. Il vit ses seins battre la mesure de sa respiration.

- Vos regards appuyés sont assez … évocateurs. Est-ce que je vous rappelle de bons souvenirs ? minauda-t-elle.

Ce fut au tour de Theron d’esquisser un sourire.

- Je ne couche qu’avec des humains. Et vous, vous n’êtes pas humaine. Vous n’êtes qu’une machine.

L’emphase sur ces deux mots laissa échapper un petit rire à la jeune femme. Son visage prit une expression exagérément vexée.

- Oh allons Shan … Vous ne savez rien de ce que nous sommes.

Elle se pencha en avant et susurra :

- Et cela vous énerve …

Theron relâcha la tension de ses épaules et prit appui sur le dossier de sa chaise.

- Oh si. J’ai rencontré votre … Comment je dois dire ? Soeur ? Copie ?

Le visage de la jeune femme retrouva une expression sérieuse.

Touché.

- Elle était sur Caprica peu de temps avant votre attaque, reprit-il. Sa couverture était celle d’une journaliste d’investigation qui bossait pour une grande chaîne d’informations.

Theron porta son attention sur le dossier devant lui et se mit à chercher parmi les feuilles volantes en poursuivant :

- Quelle était la vôtre ici … ? Oh … barmaid.

Il hocha la tête avec approbation.

- Très bon choix, reprit-il, les yeux toujours fixés sur le rapport. Une position idéale pour récupérer des informations, c’est intelligent.

Il laissa les feuilles lui échapper des mains et les joignit à nouveau en reportant son attention sur son interlocutrice.

- Et qu’est-ce qu’un grille-pain chercherait à obtenir comme renseignements de la part de simples civils ? Pourquoi ne pas vous faire embaucher sur Cloud 9, où vont la plupart des militaires en permission ?

Elle entrouvrit la bouche et sourit :

- L’alcool a le don de délier les langues. D’ailleurs c’est comme ça que Lara vous a séduit n’est-ce pas ? Ma copie sur Caprica.

Theron se rappuya contre le dossier de sa chaise.

- Pourquoi êtes-vous là ? demanda-t-il froidement.

Elle se pinça les lèvres.

- Peut-être que je viens rendre une simple visite de courtoisie à mon créateur.

Elle se pencha à nouveau au-dessus de la table.

- Que je veux juste plonger mon regard une dernière fois dans le sien avant son annihilation. Je pourrais alors enfin rejoindre Dieu sans aucun regret.

- Dieu ?!

Theron ne put s’empêcher de rire franchement. Il s’essuya brièvement les yeux.

- Je ne suis pas un expert en théologie mais je suis presque sûr que les grille-pains ne rejoignent pas les Dieux quand on les transforme en pièces détachées.

Elle plissa les yeux.

- Vous êtes d’un ridicule avec votre terminologie Shan. Vous pensez réellement que si vous m’ouvrez le ventre vous allez découvrir des câbles et des circuits imprimés ? Non …

Sous la table, elle décroisa les jambes et les écarta légèrement. Elle entrouvrit lentement les lèvres avant d’ajouter :

- Je suis faite de chair … et de sang …

Elle cambra les reins. Sa poitrine se soulevait lentement au rythme de sa respiration.

- Si vous vous approchiez plus … vous pourriez le vérifier par vous-même … Comme sur Caprica …

Theron déglutit bruyamment mais secoua la tête avec un air moqueur.

- Et c’est moi qui suis ridicule ? Vous espériez faire craquer qui avec vos regards de femmes fatales et vos poses lascives ?

Le sourire sur le visage de la jeune femme s’effaça brusquement. Il entendit à peine le clic caractéristique des menottes de métal qu’elle venait de briser. En une fraction de seconde, elle avait balayé l’obstacle qui les séparait : la table se retourna avec fracas. Elle le saisit par la gorge et le plaqua contre la porte vitrée. Le garde à l’extérieur, bientôt accompagné de Jonas, tenta vainement de pousser de son côté … Mais la force prodigieuse de la cylon les en empêchait. Les pieds de Theron battaient le vide tandis que ses mains essayaient de dégager la prise des doigts enserrant son cou.

- Vous savez ce qui est vraiment ridicule Agent Shan ?

La cylon colla son visage à son oreille.

- La velléité des humains à se croire supérieur sur toutes les autres formes de vie de la Galaxie.

Le bras droit de Theron s’agita vers la tête de la jeune femme dans une tentative futile de contre-attaquer. Elle utilisa sa main libre pour le lui bloquer fermement contre la porte.

- Alors qu’en fin de compte, ils se comportent avec l’arrogance d’un enfant … et qu’ils se brisent si facilement.

A ce dernier mot elle le laissa tomber au sol. Theron se mit à quatre pattes, sa gorge produisant un horrible bruit de suffocation en essayant d’ingurgiter de l’air. La cylon eut l’air satisfaite et recula de plusieurs pas en arrière avant de se mettre à genoux, les mains derrière la tête, en figure de soumission. Les gardes firent irruption avec fracas et l’entourèrent immédiatement, leurs fusils pointés sur sa tête. Theron se remit péniblement sur pied avec l’aide de Jonas qui l’entraîna dans le couloir.

- Alors Agent Shan ? Est-ce que notre rencontre n’était pas à couper le souffle ? lui hurla-t-elle, joviale.

Toujours soutenu par son ami, Theron prit appui contre le mur avec la brutalité d’un naufragé qui se raccrocherait à une bouée.

- Theron ça va trop loin ! Il faut qu’on leur dise ! Maintenant !

Mais il secoua la main dans sa direction avant de se mettre à tousser violemment.

- Tu as une idée de ce qu'on risque s’ils apprennent qu’on détient une cylon à bord et qu’on lui fait subir un interrogatoire sans avoir prévenu les chefs de la Flotte ?!

Theron passa une main sur sa gorge douloureuse.

- La Présidente nous balancera par un sas ! Voilà ce qu’on risque ! s’écria Jonas.

- Elle non, répondit Theron d’une voix encore faible. Adama par contre …

- Une chance qu’il ne soit pas encore au courant alors.

Surpris par cette intervention, Jonas se retourna vers le nouveau venu, laissant à Theron le soin d’entrevoir qui venait de les rejoindre. Le claquement typique des pas d’un militaire résonnait dans le couloir menant à la salle d’interrogatoire.

- Capitaine Adama ... balbutia Jonas.

- Heureusement pour vous je suis plus coulant que mon père lorsqu’il s’agit de procédure, ajouta Lee.

Son regard passa de Jonas à Theron qui avait encore du mal à se tenir correctement debout.

- Je ne compte pas vous passer de la pommade non plus. Vous avez agi impulsivement. Cependant, j’apprécie que vous l’ayez isolé avec discrétion. Ça aurait pu beaucoup plus mal tourné. Maintenant, il est temps que nous prenions la relève.

Ce fut là que Theron remarqua qu’il n’était pas venu seul. Une femme blonde aux cheveux courts et à la forte carrure le suivait de près.

- Le lieutenant Thrace prend la suite des opérations, conclut Lee Adama. Vous deux vous allez me suivre pour débriefer ce merdier.

Kara Thrace entreprit de se dévêtir de sa veste militaire, et l’attacha autour de sa taille tout en étudiant scrupuleusement Theron de la tête au pied.

- Contrairement à vous, je ne suis peut-être pas tout à fait son genre mais qui sait …

Elle poussa la porte de la salle d’interrogatoire et fit un clin d’œil à Shan avant d’ajouter :

- … peut-être qu’elle aime aussi les blondes ?

————————————————-

Aaah this one was one hell of a crossover to work with! This is why I love writing so much, I can make my favorite characters interact with each other xD Originally it was Jonas who slept with Cylon!Ran but then I figured it’d be more fun to write Cylon!Ran teasing Theron about what happened on Caprica ^^ Now please, if you haven’t watched Battlestar Galactica yet, don’t read below it’ll get very spoilery!!

In this AU! I planned for Ran to be one of the ‘cylon number’, more specifically number one like Cavill was, she’s the one who feels very resentful about her creator… the latter being… Theron. Yes in this AU! Theron is in fact one of the Final Five, and he created Ran after his beloved late-wife. Ugh angst, angst everywhere again xD

Anyway I hope you’ve enjoyed this little crack fic :3

Merci de m’avoir lu ♥

#Star Wars: The Old Republic #SWTOR #Theron Shan #TheronShanWeek2021 #DAY 6 > AU!#oc: Ran Archer #Jonas Balkar #Battlestar Galactica #Lee Adama #Kara Thrace #Bill Adama #Laura Roslin #Cylons #This one was so much fun to write ♥

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ultranos · 4 years ago

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Competing ships of ur ocs? That’s just how well written the ocs are! Honestly I’d brace for that bc the ocs in S&A are so nicely fleshed out they’re probably developing tiny fandoms, such as it is, AND they have enjoyable dynamics! I’d be personally interested in in depth descriptions of their appearances for...drawing reasons. ngl abt that

That’s still just a wild concept for me lol.

As for descriptions, I’ll leave you with some of my notes on them:

Lt. (Captain) Jee - (canon) (male) (50s) captain. Is very Done With Your Shit and has absolutely Zero Fucks Left

Chief Tsui - engineer (what is gender, really?). Is possibly a cryptid. (late 30s-maybe 40s? who knows?) Is absolutely insane (they’re an engineer, of course they are) Go all in on the gender-neutral look. Dark hair, brown eyes.

Sub-Lt. (First Mate) Shika - navigation (female), veteran, (book 1: late 20s; book 2: early 30s) Firebender. A general voice of sanity. Has very much survived because of her seemingly-passive appearance and demeanor. Classic Fire Nation looks with amber eyes, dark hair is short, just past ears (she was in prison...), has scar on her face (bisected eyebrow, goes down the cheekbone). Has one white streak at her temple (same side as scar)

Koji - crewmember (male), young (18 book 1; 21 book 2). Earthbender. Colony-born. Classic EK darker skin and brown eyes. Tall. Shaggy brown hair that looks like it fears combs. Teenager who has absolutely at one point failed to keep a goldfish alive. Is very enthusiastic about koi.

Corporal Rùfen - scout (female), veteran. (book 1: mid-20s; book 2: late-20s) Firebender. She’s survived this long, she’s both competent and insane. But pleasantly so? Is very bad at dying. (she’s been on multiple suicide missions and keeps coming back.) Was at Ba Sing Se. Lost father on Day 27. Lost elder brother on Day 599. roughly same age as Lu Ten (would be). On the lanky side. Skin color is somewhere in “tan” (lighter than EK or WT). Dark, almost black, eyes. Usually wears long dark hair tied back or braided.

Jian - doctor (male). (early 30s) Didn’t really want to be a doctor, but ended up the competent one in his squad and things kinda happened. Has a lot of experience with burns. Has a lot of experience with really terrible burns. Would like to get very drunk now. Wears glasses (nervous tic of adjusting them). early-mid 30s. wears dark hair tied back (little past shoulders).

Yuka - crewmember (female). young (17/18 book 1; 20/21 book 2) Waterbender. Fire Nation military bastard. (darker skin, gold eyes, shorter and stockier than average Fire Nation; she’s half-SWT, half-FN). Is understandably terrified of her abilities and is about 95% certain her FN military father got her this assignment to get rid of her.

Fai - crewmember (male). young (18 book 1; 21 book 2) Firebender. Classic Fire Nation looks with brown eyes. Has no idea what he did to get on this boat but is very sorry. Is in charge of the komodo-rhinos. The big scaly dogs love their weird squishy uncle.

Wen - Palace servant (female); used to be Head of Household staff for Azula. (Each member of the royal family has their own “household”.) (40s?) Dark hair that is greying usually tied up in a bun. Tan skin color (not FN pale), brown eyes. Extremely strong Not Here For Your Nonsense vibes.

Itsuki - Zuko’s personal scribe/assistant (male). (20something) Just-out-of-uni vibes. Is generally trying to juggle approximately 32 things at once, will appear impeccably professional in front of Zuko. (This will not fool Wen.) Perpetually ink-stained fingers. Mostly FN in looks, clearly some EK in there somewhere.

Hiroko/”Red” - ex-circus acrobat/revolutionary cell leader (female). (40s?) Now also working in the same circus as Ty Lee. Knows a lot more than she lets on. Very personable. Extremely dark-skinned. Wears dark hair in multiple braids, some with bells woven in. Has connections to academia/the Imperial University somehow.

#nos answers things #salt and ashes #salt and ashes au #Anonymous

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prismarts · 4 years ago

Text

A Bond That Lasts Centuries... (Chapter 1)

Plot: Hisirdoux Casperan, apprentice to Merlin, had been sent to the mortal realm to protect the mortals and finish the tasks given to him.... unknown to him and his familiar, an old student of Morgana Le Fay had been sent there by his master as well,...

Notes: It’s kinda just...fluff, it might not be really long I do want to try and write longer but I am already happy with the first couple of parts sooo yeah, Douxilly (Douxie x Oc) again of course, also just Archie being a good familiar but also just kinda teasing Doux, inspired by AATY by @alovesongshewrote

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early to Mid 1500s

Douxie had been in the mortal realm for two centuries now, he's seen a lot during those periods of time and had been working hard to finish the tasks that Master Merlin's given him. While, at the same time, trying hard to keep the mortals from discovering his magic and keeping them out of harm's way from various magical creatures.

It was the early 1500s, Europe to be exact, where he was on his way to find an ancient artifact of Merlin's when he had decided to split up with his familiar, Archie. Who had taken this usual form of a black cat, roaming around the city and blending into the crowd.

They had planned to meet up at the end of the road in an alleyway, the apprentice knew how capable his familiar was at staying inconspicuous, so he had no problem with this plan at all.

What he didn't know was that a familiar face was about to make herself known to the cat dragon.

It was pure coincidence mind you, Illy was just blending into the crowd of mortals, walking along amongst them when she suddenly spotted a black cat.

Now, she could have assumed this was just any cat...But she recognized the mark on the cat's or rather familiar's chest.

By now, she hadn’t made much of an effort to track Douxie and Archie.

She had assumed that they must have ended up somewhere far away by now and that she wouldn't have been able to find them even if she wanted to. But now, upon seeing the familiar, she grew...worried.

Even back in Camelot, Archie never strayed far from Douxie’s side and vice versa. They were as close as a familiar and wizard could be, so to see the cat without the wizard, concerned her.

Illy decided to follow Archie into one of the rather abandoned alleyways, wanting to check up on him while she had the chance to. Archie, being the observant familiar that he was, noticed someone following him almost immediately,

He turned around and saw her, needless to say, he was more than shocked.

"Illyria?...But...how?"

The last time he saw the young wizard, was back in Camelot and that was two centuries ago...

Illy smiled a little as she bent down to pet the familiar's head, "Master Merlin told me to leave a couple of hundred years ago...early 1300s if I remember.”, She paused, looking at him, “I spotted you in the crowd without Douxie and I wanted to make sure you were safe....how are you, Archie?"

Archie seemed a bit more surprised by her answer, a look of concern for the young wizard appeared on his face, "I'm fine, but you? Have you been alone all this time?..."

He knows that Illy was a somewhat inexperienced apprentice, only having a grasp at beginner’s magic and basic spells, it seemed concerning that she had been alone in the mortal realm.

"I handled myself well, Archie, don't worry. I'm glad you're alright....”, She paused again, the question on the tip of her tongue, “What about Douxie? Is he doing well?..."

"You could come with me and ask him yourself..."

Illy smiled at the idea, she missed Douxie dearly and it would be really nice for them to catch up after a couple of hundred years apart. But she shook her head.

"I wish I could, but Master Merlin sent me out her to do a few tasks for him as well...."

"Alright....if you're sure.....but if you ever need help, you can always find us.."

The young apprentice smiled gratefully as she petted Archie's head gently, one last time, "Thanks Archie, I will..... Say hi to Douxie for me...alright?"

She smiled as Archie nodded and soon stood up, waving goodbye to the familiar, she walked back out of the hallway and into the crowd, blending in almost immediately among the other mortals.

Not long after, Douxie ran towards the alley where Archie was, letting out quick and heavy huffs of breath from running around in a panic and looking for his familiar, he seemed relieved when he saw him.

"There you are, Arch! Did something happen? You're a bit farther back than where we agreed to meet." The wizard asked his cat dragon who was now looking up at him.

"I just ran into an old friend, Illyria, she asked me to-"

But Archie wasn't able to finish his sentence.

Douxie's eyes widen in surprise, he ran towards the crowd almost immediately to see if he could spot the girl and for a second, he thought he did. He desperately tried to catch up to her but there were too many people in the crowd...

He lost her...

His familiar was able to catch up to him rather quickly during this time. The cat jumped onto his wizard familiar's shoulder and lightly smacked his head with his paw.

"You know you shouldn't be running off like that, Douxie."

"I...just thought..... I could somehow catch up to her.."

The wizard sighed a bit, staring forward in the direction where he thought he spotted his old friend for a split second, "Was she doing alright, Arch?....", He asked, voice quiet and concerned.

"She'll find us if she needs us, Doux."

"Right, Master Merlin sent her here then?..."

"That's what she told me..." Archie gently patted Douxie's head with his paw, a form of comfort from the familiar.

"She'll be alright Douxie.."

After discovering that his old friend was somewhere in the mortal realm, Douxie had been keeping an eye out for Illy subconsciously. He was a naturally protective person and for him to find out that the shy, quite and often times, closed off apprentice was somewhere in a realm where magic is more and more unacceptable was worrying him to no end.

Despite that, he was able to collect artifacts and finish tasks set out to him by Merlin as he traveled around England.

It would be a few years until Douxie would see a glance of Illy again, in the mid 1500s.

He wasn't sure what prompted him to but he immediately ran, pushing through the crowd to catch up to the wizard and once he caught up to her, he hugged her tightly.

Startling the poor girl even after she realized who it was.

'Modrax's miracles! I thought I could never catch up to you, Illy.."

"D...Douxie?.." Illy blurted out in surprise, feeling like a flustered mess as her freckled cheeks turned a slight red shade. The hug making her heart beat faste than she would have liked.

"Y..yeah, sorry about that, love...it's just...when Archie told me you were around, I had to check up on you.”, He pulled back from the hug, but held her shoulders gently. A relieved smile on his face as he looked down at her.

“We had no idea Master Merlin sent you here, if we did....we would have looked for you sooner.."

"I...it's alright Douxie...I'm alright...but.. it is nice to see a familiar face.."

The two immortals and the familiar retreated to a nearby alleyway to talk, having a bit to catch up together.

But most of that time was spent with Illy rambling excitedly about everything she's learned in the mortal realm so far. It wasn’t too surprising, she had always been eager to learn, a naturally curious young wizard.

Given the fact that unlike Douxie, who had been teaching himself magic and had been using it to survive for years before Merlin took him in.

She had to suppress them to survive, living with her cruel mother meant that her magical potential had been stunted for most of her life before Merlin and Morgana took her in.

Douxie hadn't realized it himself, but he had started to stare at the girl as she talked, noticing how she gets a little fidgety with her hair when she's excited. The way she tended to run her fingers through her bangs whenever she did.

The way her turquoise colored eyes lit up with overexcitement, almost like bright stars in the night sky. It brought a fond smile to his face as he listened to her ramble on.

He may not have realized it, but Archie did.

They were able to spend a while together but soon had to go their separate ways to finish the tasks given to them by Merlin.

As they parted ways, Douxie stared at Illy, almost watching over her, like a familiar so often would, to make sure nothing bad happens to her as she walked away.

To make sure no harm comes to his old friend..

"I hope she stays safe..." The wizard mumbled, concern and worry heavy in his voice, his familiar jumping up to perch on his shoulder.

"She's stronger than we know Douxie....she'll be alright."

“You're right Arch, she's....amazing..", A fond smile reached his face as he watched the silhouette of his friend disappear, further away.

"No wonder you kept staring at her then." The familiar noted as he looked at his wizard, a blunt but teasing tone in his voice.

Douxie felt his face slowly burn from embarrassment, a shade of red appearing on his cheeks. He glared at Archie for a moment.

"I was not!...it's....just been a while since I've seen her."

"Of course, that must be the reason."

"Yes. It is." The wizard grumbled as he walked off with his familiar.

#toa #toa wizards #tales of arcadia #wizards tales of arcadia #3below tales of arcadia #trollhunters tales of arcadia #douxilly #douxie x oc #toa douxie #toa archie #toa merlin #hisirdoux #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #douxie casperan #tales of arcadia oc #A Bond That Lasts Centuries

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whumptopia · 4 years ago

Text

The Angel Within

d&d oc ladywhump commissioned by @pixels-and-paperweights

content warnings: female whump, mentions of animal death (horses), graphic murder, blood, memory loss

—

Morning breaks over the peaks of the mountains, and even after traveling all through the night, Fayde Rithindren and her companions still haven’t reached their destination. The mountain pass they’ve been tasked to clear is far from most towns, but the feral orcs occupying the passage are still a threat to the merchants, travelers, and hunters in the area. Fayde and several others have been tasked by the Emerald Enclave to deal with the orcs, a job that involves traveling on horseback for days, venturing past the safety of civilization into the mountainous wilderness.

Fayde enjoys missions like these, for the most part. She gets the chance to absorb the world around her, and the straightforwardness of the task grants her the control she so desperately craves. She was the one to suggest they power through the night in order to ensure they battle the orcs in the daylight as opposed to in the dark. The heightened visibility will give them an advantage in the coming fight. She’s proud of herself for her practicality, but some of the others in her group are not as pleased. Her girlfriend Seren has bags underneath her eyes, but she’s too polite to accuse Fayde of robbing her of precious sleep.

Maul, on the other hand, has no such qualms.

“By the Gods, what I wouldn’t do for a cup of coffee right now!” the human man announces loudly to the group. They packed limited provisions to keep their packs light, and coffee didn’t make it onto the list of essentials. They don’t have time right now to stop and brew a pot, anyway. Maul is just trying to entertain everyone with conversation.

“After we slay those goddamn orcs, I’m going to lie down right there in the road and sleep for an entire day,” he declares, twisting his torso around on his horse to look at Fayde, his amber eyes meeting her cerulean ones.

Seren rolls her eyes—brown orbs speckled with flecks of gold, ceaselessly enchanting—at his antics. “If you do that, we’ll have to leave you behind, and you’ll be eaten by wolves.”

Maul laughs boisterously instead of mustering up a false front of insult. Some of the other travellers look back at him inquisitively. Fayde doesn’t know any of them by name, content to stick to her small, tight-knit group of friends instead of familiarizing herself with the entirety of her local Enclave. Maul combs his hand through his short salt-and-pepper beard, a dangerously contemplative expression on his face.

“What now?” Fayde asks, even though she probably doesn’t even want to know. He grins.

“I was just thinking…” he begins, but Fayde isn’t listening. She recognizes the markers along the trail as the ones they were told to look out for. They must be close to the pass.

Fayde shares a look with Seren, and the half-elf woman nods. Fayde tugs on the reins, slowing her horse, and readies her weapon, grasping the staff of the halberd with both hands. She’s fought worse than feral orcs before, but she can’t help but remain prepared at all times. Maul teases her for being anxious, but she likes to think of herself as simply “reasonably cautious.”

The Enclave member at the head of the group lifts his arm, signaling for all of them to stop. The air is quiet except for the heavy panting of the horses in the heat and the whistling of the wind. The leader of the pack proceeds slowly, rounding the corner.

Fayde listens to the sound of hooves on packed dirt as he scouts ahead. She doesn’t expect much to come of it—the orcs aren’t likely to be standing around in the middle off the road, they’re feral after all—but she tightens her grip nonetheless. Seren shoots her a reassuring look. “We’ve faced worse before. This job will be easy,” her expression seems to communicate. Fayde nods and steadies her nerves with a deep breath.

Suddenly, a howl pierces the air, setting her nerves alight. A scream comes from around the corner, cut short too soon.

Fayde absorbs all this in the span of a second, charging forward with the flick of her wrist before she even realizes what she’s doing. Her entire group acts on instinct as well, their horses rushing around the bend, not stopping. They don’t stop, even as Fayde scans the path ahead and sees the slaughtered orcs. Over a dozen bodies, soaked in their own blood. A glowing, shrouded figure stands above one of the fallen, ringed by a pack of hellhounds. Fayde spots the scout and his horse, their corpses charred by the beasts’ flames.

Her mind works fast. The pass has already been cleared by a dangerous acolyte and their hellhounds. Whoever they are, they clearly intend to wipe out her and her companions. Fayde hardly has time for the realization to form before the monsters descend upon them. Armed riders collide with the pack in a thunderclap of violence. At the front, one mare bucks off her rider, sending the armored woman soaring into the air, but she raises her sword mid-flight, carving into a leaping beast as she lands. The mixed sounds of shouts, snarls, and clashing metal pollute the air. Fayde falls into the familiar motions of battle, her blood thumming with energy, her vision hyper-focused. She swings her halberd, and the double-edged axe at the end of her weapon swipes the side of the nearest hellhound, knocking him astray before he can pounce on the back of Maul’s mount. Fayde jumps off her own horse, knowing she can fight better on her feet than horseback, and the stallion breaks off in a sprint toward the woods. She barely spares it a sliver of a thought, stabbing the sharp point of her halberd into the hind leg of a hound that’s snapping at Seren. The fiend rounds on her with a ferocious growl, lunging at her. She sidesteps it, knocking it aside with a grunt.

A strange crackle in the air sends a chill up her spine. She locks eyes with Seren. Her girlfriend’s pupils snap wide open, terrified black spilling into her irises.

“Get down!” she screams over the roar of battle, and Fayde ducks just as one of the hounds releases a cone of flame from its gaping maw. Her auburn hair is singed by the heat, and she gasps in pain as the skin of her back is roasted hot, even through her armor. The shrieks of her ignited comrades and their burned horses ring in her ears, and she covers her head with her hands for protection, eyes shut tight as she’s blinded by the light.

When the inferno subsides, Fayde barely has a moment to rise before one of the creatures rushes at her. It successfully dodges her attack, and its claws manage to break through her armor. She hisses as talons slice her bicep, but the injury doesn’t slow her onslaught, and she strikes down the beast with a fierce cry. Her line of sight is splattered with red, crimson and fury flooding her vision.

Ruthless, she cuts into the hounds, aided by those who’ve not yet fallen. Seren and Maul find her side and stay there, the three of them taking brutal blows and dishing them out in kind. They’re seasoned warriors, but surviving an ambush of hellhounds is no easy feat. As their comrades gurgle and choke on their own blood, their throats torn out by sharp canines, tumbling to join the blackened corpses of their roasted fellows, an unfamiliar panic builds in Fayde’s chest. She’s much less confident right now than she’s comfortable with.

A hound tackles Seren to the ground, the monster snarling above her, snapping at her face, and Fayde throws herself atop the beast, raising her halberd above her head and bringing it down hard enough to stab through the creature’s skull. She rolls off, bringing the impaled, twitching body with her, and Seren crawls out from underneath.

“Fay—!” Seren yells, her voice cut off by Maul’s battle cry. Fayde spins around just as he bodily slams a hound that got too close to ambushing her from behind. His trademark jovial expression has been replaced by a more grave look, and Fayde’s heart drops to her stomach at the sight. Their comrades are dying all around them, and if something doesn’t change right now, Fayde and her friends will be next.

With a growl, she scans her surroundings, slicing at any creature that comes too close, and her eyes fall on the hooded figure standing away from the heart of the fight, their arms raised and illuminated by magic. They’re likely controlling the hounds. Maybe if she takes them out, the hellhounds will be less organized and easier to kill.

Determined, she cuts a path through the carnage. Maul covers her six without prompting. They’ve been fighting together for so long, they know each other’s moves well. As she engages with a monster that’s blocking her way, it bites her shoulder, sharp canines breaking through her armor. With a scream, she guts the hound and pries it off before its teeth can pierce too deep. Panting, she slouches over, one hand braced on her knee. Her nose is plagued by the scent of blood and smoke.

A shrill cry commands her attention, and Fayde straightens herself, spinning around to face the sound. Several feet away, Seren is wounded, blood gushing from her side, her face contorted in agony.

Fayde’s heart stops.

If you asked almost anyone, they’d tell you that Fayde Rithindren is human. “Of course she is,” they’d say, “She looks human. What else could she be?” But despite her best efforts to appear otherwise, Fayde isn’t entirely human. “Aasimar,” they’d say if they witnessed her wings and celestial powers. She’s embarrassed by her heritage, skeptical of godly beings and unwilling to associate herself with them, so she goes to great lengths to keep her identity a secret. Her girlfriend doesn’t even know who she truly is.

Seren has never screamed like that before, though, and it shocks something in Fayde’s system, something primal that responds violently to the massacre around her and the pain in her closest friends’ expressions. She’s dimly aware of the faint glow emanating from her, growing brighter and brighter until—

Her wings. She hasn’t felt them in so long, but they’re as familiar to her as the palm of her hand. They burst forth from her back, breaking apart her armor, black and skeletal and undoubtedly terrifying. Her eyes throb like she has a headache from staring directly into the sun, and she knows they’ve dissolved into pools of black. She’s unleashed her necrotic shroud. The air around her buzzes with her power, and the hellhounds in her vicinity freeze, visibly startled. She takes advantage of their fright and cuts them down, emboldened by her own celestial powers. They snap out of it quickly enough, but she’s undeterred, swinging her halberd indiscriminately. She’s lost all train of thought, her mind silenced in favor of immediate action. One hellhound opens its mouth, orange sparking behind its tongue, but she cuts off its head before it can douse her in flames. She marches ahead, straight toward the hooded figure. The acolyte stares right at her, taking a wary step backward… and then they aim their glowing hands in her direction.

Fayde’s dodge isn’t quick enough: her bitten shoulder is struck by magic. She screams as electricity laces through her wound, sending searing pain all the way down her arm. Gritting her teeth, she gathers herself before her enemy can summon another curse, dealing a fatal blow with a brutal slash of her weapon. The figure crumples with a cry, collapsing in the dirt in a bloody heap of robes.

Not stopping to revel in the glory of victory, Fayde turns and slays the remainder of the hounds, luring the beasts away from where Maul is crouched over Seren, pressing hard on her bloodied side. Distracted by the sight, Fayde takes a gash to the thigh, but she kills the creature before it can even think of finishing her first.

Limping, she makes her way over to where her friends are, surrounded by smoking corpses of people, horses, and hellhounds alike. She locks eyes with Seren, and even in her trance-like state, Fayde notices her girlfriend shiver when their gazes meet.

She lowers herself to the ground, drops her weapon, and reaches for Seren’s wound.

“Don’t,” Seren gasps, “You’re a mess, you need to stop before—!”

Ignoring her warnings, Fayde presses her healing hands on Seren’s injury. Her skin glows, the world around them glows, and everything fades to white until all Fayde can see is her own pulse behind her lids, and then—

Nothing.

—

When Fayde wakes, she wakes slowly. As she rises out of unconsciousness, she notes the stiffness and heaviness of her body. She must’ve been out for a long time. She cracks her eyes open when she can muster the strength, her lids heavy. Her surroundings are blurry and bright, making her wince. A familiar voice says her name, but she can’t quite place the source. Blinking repeatedly to clear her vision, Fayde groans and tries to lift her arm.

She can’t lift her arm.

“What…?” she mumbles, her voice rough and dry. She glances down at her thoroughly bandaged right arm and shoulder, the entire length of the appendage wrapped in gauze. When did that happen?

“Finally!” another voice shouts, one she instantly recognizes. She looks up, squinting in the sunlight, and spots Maul standing at the foot of her bed. He looks a little worse for wear: there are heavy purple bags underneath his tired eyes, his left arm is in a sling, and cuts cover his cheeks.

“Maul?” she asks, trying to sit up in bed but discovering she can’t, pain surging through her at the slightest movement. Grimacing, she continues, “What happened? Where are we?”

“You passed out after healing Seren,” Maul starts, and the name fizzes in Fayde’s mind like something she should know. “We had to get you to down a health potion right then and there to keep you from dying. We rounded up some of the horses that had run off into the woods and headed straight back to town. The healers here have been helping us out, but you’ve been unconscious for the past…” He pauses, counting on his fingers, “Been almost a week now, I think.”

Fayde tries to absorb this new information—and it is new, all of it. None of his explanations sound familiar at all. The fabric of her bed rustles somewhere to her left, and Fayde realizes there’s a half-elf woman sitting beside her. She doesn’t look visibly injured, but she’s staring at Fayde with intensity, her striking brown eyes flecked with gold. Her dark brown skin, round cheeks, and dreadlocks are all so familiar but… there’s something missing. Fayde knows this woman, but, at the same time, she’s acutely aware she’s lost something.

“How are you feeling?” she inquires, voice soft and soothing. “Do you want me to go get the healer?”

“I’m…” Fayde searches through her memories frantically, finding giant empty holes where recent events should be. “You’re… Seren. We’re together.” She manages to remember bits and pieces of their relationship, but the woman is still whittled down almost nothing in her mind.

Seren’s brows reach for her hairline, her mouth falling open in surprise. “You don’t remember me?”

Fayde shakes her head, her head throbbing at the motion. “No, I do, I do… mostly. We haven’t been dating for that long, right?”

Seren grabs her left hand from where its resting limp on the bed and squeezes tight. “Nine months.”

Fayde frowns. “Oh.” That’s not right at all. “I don’t… what day is it?”

“This could pass,” Maul cuts in, striding across the room to place one hand on Seren’s tense shoulder. “There’s a lot going on in her system right now, and she might’ve hit her head. It’ll be alright.”

Seren is trembling. Fayde feels awful. Confusion, anxiety, and guilt fight for dominance as her mind whirls. She grabs Seren’s hand when she moves to pull away, intertwining their fingers.

“I’m hurting you. I’m sorry for hurting you,” she says softly. “I’m not sorry for healing you, though, if that’s what pushed me over the edge. I remember that I care about you, so...” Fayde trails off. Judging by the distraught expression on the woman’s face, her words aren’t helping at all.

Seren sucks in a breath. “You’re Aasimar. You had… wings. I think that’s what did it. You pushed yourself too far, Fayde.”

Fayde winces, glancing between the two of them awkwardly. They both seem to be struggling how to deal with the revelation.

“Things must’ve been pretty bad if I…” she swallows, “I don’t like to show that part of myself.”

Maul scoffs. “No kidding. I’ve known you for years, and you never told me anything.”

She can’t tell if he’s actually bitter or not. She’s too sore, aching, and out of it right now to pick up on subtle social cues. “I’m sorry. I… don’t like who I am, so I never share it.”

“It’s okay,” Seren reassures. “Let’s just focus on getting you better right now.”

“Okay,” Fayde agrees, eager for the conversation to move on. Seren moves away, and this time Fayde lets her go.

“I’m going to get the healer,” she announces, exiting the room before anyone has the chance to respond. Fayde sighs, her heart thumping loud beneath bruised ribs.

“It’ll be alright,” Maul promises, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She hisses in pain, and he pulls back with a chuckle. “Sorry! That’ll heal soon. And the rest…”

She looks up and meets his amber eyes. He gives her a smile. “Well, like I said. It’ll be alright.”

#my writing #whump #lady whump #dnd oc #oc whump #blood #pain #injury #unconscious #magical exhaustion #tw animal death #minor character death #not a prompt

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ethereousdelirious · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober #18 - Panic Attacks

New OCs for you! Brief context under the cut. CW for mentions of s.uicide and self-loathing

These guys are from... yet another one of my failed NaNoWriMo attempts. They were high school friends, grew apart during college, then coincidentally ended up in the same town after major life events.

Rowan Al-Fayed: Mixed Middle Eastern heritage. Mid-to-late twenties. Has a severe phobia of hospitals because they trigger memories related to his nearly-successful suicide attempt.

Jökull Valsson: White-Icelandic heritage. Mid-to-late twenties. moved to town after his uncle died and was put in charge of his estate.

The following scene takes place near the end of the story. Jökull has unsuccessfully tried to rekindle his friendship with Rowan, who keeps self-sabotaging due to his anxiety. After a small fight, Rowan goes to apologize to Jökull only to find that he’s really, really sick and needs to go to the hospital.

The ER had a smell to it. Every hospital did. It hit Rowan the second he walked through the doors, holding onto Jökull's hand with a white-knuckle grip, like he was the one who needed comfort.

"Rowan." Jökull blinked slowly, muffled a cough behind his lips. "You're hurting me."

Rowan let go of Jökull's hand, unable to speak. They reached the reception desk and he froze. Jökull was obviously the sick one, and the receptionist directed her questions at him when it became evident that Rowan was not going to step in.

He looked around, feeling worse than useless and so, so afraid. Every noise seemed amplified, every tiny movement. The simple flutter of a magazine page made him jump. Beside him, Jökull coughed and swayed into the counter. He needed support; he needed someone steady, and Rowan was falling to pieces.

It came to him in flashes: the acidic taste of alcohol and bile in his throat, the sting of the IV needle, the utter hopelessness and anger that he couldn't even kill himself right.

His breath quickened and something dangerously close to a sob wrenched in his throat. "I have to go," he said shakily.

"Huh?" Jökull turned, but Rowan couldn't look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry." His voice cracked. "I have to go."

So he turned on his heel and fled. Like a coward, he retreated back to his car, still in the drop-off bay, and left his friend to navigate a hospital he'd never been to while a fever of nearly 103 degrees burned him up from the inside.

What a good friend Rowan was. What a total piece of shit. Blinking back tears, he got into the driver's seat. He drove without really noticing where he went and parked when he felt he was a good distance away from the ER doors.

God, he was so embarrassing. He couldn't even keep it together long enough to support Jökull when he needed it. Rowan sobbed in earnest, not even bothering to try to wipe the tears away. Poor Jökull. He didn't deserve all the shit Rowan had put him though.

It had been a while since Rowan had had a panic attack like this, and he very nearly forgot to take his prescription. Carrying around a bottle of benzos used to make him anxious, but he had grown used to it over the years.

His sobbing tapered off to something more manageable. He sniffled and scrubbed his eyes on the hem of his shirt. He wasn't supposed to drive after taking his meds, so he was stuck here in the hospital parking lot until they wore off. Stupid. He was so stupid.

The late afternoon sun filtered through a lens of watery gray clouds. Rowan leaned his seat back and tried to sleep.

#whumptober 2020

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