#oc Tadans

[duskm0ther]

it's their birthday, say it to them >:c

[elfroot-and-laurels-moved]

Stargazing kiss from the writing prompts?

Iah I thank you for this chance to write about my fave minor npc from a 15+ year old game.

                “The men of Annúminas will sing songs of your beauty.” Tadan’s murmured compliment floated up into the darkness of the sky, too fast for Duventoliel to catch it and take hold, to lodge it in her mind and memorize every last turn of his tongue. With dew-wet hair, she rose from the ground, sitting so that she might look upon Tadan’s face.                 “They will do no such thing,” Duventoliel chided, lacing her fingers through Tadan’s where he sat next to her. “For they will have far better tales of which to sing.” Gently, the man slid closer to her, not caring about the damp grass beneath them.                 “What better tale is there,” Tadan began, and Duventoliel could not help but lose herself in his eyes, black as the night sky in the dark. “Than that of love?” His breath fanned hot over her cheeks, and there was naught else to do but surrender as his lips met hers beneath the stars.                 “If love is the subject of which your brethren wish to sing,” Duventoliel said when at last she had the air to speak, “perhaps they might look to the hymns of Varda and Manwë.” Above, the stars glowed, as though pleased their Lady had been mentioned. Tadan simply smiled and shook his head. “The Lay of Leithian, then, for it is of the very beginning of the Dúnedain.” Once more did Tadan dissent, his smile growing. “Then what of the tale of your own kinsman and king, and his beloved Evenstar?”                 “All pale in comparison to you, just as the stars above cannot hope to hold my attention when you are near.” It was Duventoliel’s chance, now, to shake her head.                 “You speak too freely, Tadan the Dúnadan. It will ever bring you grief.” Smiling still, Tadan cupped her face in his hands, leaning over her so that the only stars she saw were in his eyes.                 “But not tonight.” And he kissed her once more.

[sacripant]

little lizard, big scythe

[michiruxbna]

HEY!! It's me again... I bring you something for your tadc ocs.

tadan! so they can make their Pokémon teams!! and if it is not the best but it is made with love for you uwu

I will look forward to your incredible Pokémon teams! ^^

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

oc-tober 2023! 23-25, feat. lendrain and lirulin & histenna

23- twilight (lendrain)

Emyn Uial is quiet in the dying light, the stones of Barad Rath painted deep purple by dusk. They walk as silently here as they do hunting in the hills, bearing their fallen and their gathered city-stones to their rest.

Urgency still presses at him, a constant prodding in the back of his mind. His hand ghosts over his face, fingers brushing the place where Amarthiel’s touch had burned him so terribly in Angmar. And she has not yet found Narchuil, he thinks with a sinking heart.

“I am sorry I could not do more, Tadan,” he tells the cairn.

24- empty (histenna's yet-unnamed son)

He watches his father closely sometimes, watches the change that comes over him like a passing shaft of moonlight when Lirulin visits. There is something strange between them. He asks his mother about it, on an evening when there is festival in the streets and Lirulin drags his father dancing into the night. 

“It’s his tale,” she says, thoughtful, “but I will say a little.”

It makes more sense, after, the way they are together, and the way they follow the steps of an unfamiliar dance, a space left open beside them as if they are waiting for a third.

25- loyal (histenna, lirulin)

“Will you not come back to the cities?” Histenna asks, frowning. Lirulin spins him about and pushes him away to the beat of the distant drums.

“Not soon,” she says. “For now I will follow something less fickle than our hearts.”

“Unchanging is not the same as steadfast,” he says, and does not add that Omaruin was as predictable as the course of the stars. Lirulin turns furious, star-bright eyes on him.

“You excuse him?” 

“I know him,” he replies. “It was no whim that led him. It never has been.” Lower, adds: “Do not mistake understanding for approval, Lirulin.”

[iwasntcreativeenoughforaname]

Some HS ocs for a post game universe!

Galeli, Tadane, and Elumah are an Ashen quadrant that share a hive near the sea. Despite appearances, there’s no set mediator between the three, and they take turns keeping the other two from fighting. Tadane and Elumah tend to fight more often due to clashing personalities, but really Galeli hates them just as much.

The three of them have a thriving jewelry business together, and make it a habit to have outfits with similar features so they match.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

@vakarians-babe your wish is Blorbo's command!

a lil kissy <3

okay Blorbo I think that's enough

BLORBO HE'S ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP

NOT IN FRONT OF MORDRAMBOR BLORBO

he's RIGHT THERE

[digital-art-from-the-soul]

Iris and Morgan

The short boy with red hair had donned one of his hoodies with a Nike symbol on it and gym shorts to go on a run, and he waved bye to Bubba. She knew what time he should be back by, so it was fine. And it was with that, that he started on his jog down through a wooded path. He didn’t get very far before he heard some rustling in some branches. He stops and takes his headphones out that were playing music to run with. “Who’s there?”

Out of the tree next to him is his little sister, hanging upside down in the second lowest branch, in holographic overalls. Her overly curly and untamed hair hung down, since she hadn’t bothered to put it in a ponytail yet. She’d had a hard time brushing it. Morgan rolls his eyes. “You. Stop doing that, you’re gonna get in trouble again.”

“I’m not that far from the house. It’s fine, Morgan. Besides, you’re the one who goes running really far.” The ten year old sticks her tongue out, still hanging.

“Yeah, because I’m allowed to, and they know where I am. Now get down before you let all the blood run down to your head.” She sits up on the branch and jumps down without a thought. “Careful!” He groans. “I’m not being your alibi if you hurt yourself.” She pouts. He looks unamused. “I’m not Mom, now get home before you get in trouble. You know what happened last time you didn’t ask to go out.”

“Fine.” She crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue before walking back the way he had come. He just rolls his eyes and puts his earphones back in to start running again.

[fash1onable-late-for-lotr]

I refuse to let go of this ring. For obvious reasons. Tadan’s death broke me into a babbling mess lol

I have become too attached to these characters

(All the good names in the game are already taken so i used my other oc’s name lmfao)

[poetry-draws]

“Hey Mordrambor! ......RUN”

I had a tremendous time drawing @vakarians-girl‘s OC Duventoliel, getting sweet sweet revenge for our boy Tadan.

[duskm0ther]

moon graced 🌙

[magsdomino]

Because I did Ketsubutsu, here is a first year class for Isamu, using the characters seen in the 2nd AMV, plus 2 nameless characters I named. and a bunch of OC’s I need to flesh out.

Habuko Mongoose, quirk: paralysis, hero name: Gorgon

Fujimi Romero, quirk: Zombie virus, hero name: Biohazard

Dadan Tadan, quirk:  flash bang sweat, hero name: Lucky Shot

Kashiko Sekigai, quirk: chart, hero name: sensor girl

Chiyo Shototsu, quirk: bad hair day, hero name: Frizz

Yukako Midaragami, quirk: Collision inducement, hero name: Impact

Satoshi Konjo, quirk: Empath Summon, hero name: Mood Ring

Kohi Nekotomi, qurk: feline form, hero name: Jellicle

Gomuro Kasogumo, quirk: rubberize, hero name: KaBoing

Makiko Kouno, quirk: luck, hero name: Lottery gal (wanted to go with Lucky draw but Dadan’s hero name is too similar)

Mamimi Sashimi, quirk: fish form, hero name: Deep Blue

Tekubi Enbanage, quirk: Discus, hero name: Sir Cumference

Akio Sokudorobo, quirk: speed thief, hero name: Me-first

 Goro Daekidan, quirk: Salivate, hero name: Spit-take

Kibo Atsuryoku, quirk: Weightshift, hero name: Scala

Junpei Gattaimo, quirk: Merge, hero name: Mashup

Inukaori Hamada, quirk: advanced smell, hero name: Olfactor

Kanjiru Sessuru, Quirk: feel, hero name: Sensational

[sacripant]

drawing one of my ffxiv ocs a day: day two - tadan

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

36 for an oc of your choice? >:)

(it was Going to be isena & isedd, but isena only ever wants to respond Fuck This and begin stabbing, so. the scene was like two lines long. lendrain does I.9.5: Amarthiel's Hope instead):

“We must know what Amarthiel is planning,” Calenglad says. “A large party of Angmarim was sighted near the docks; you should start there. Tadan, are you prepared?”

“We’re ready,” Tadan says. “Lendrain?”

“I’ll be right there,” Lendrain calls, tightening his shield across his back. Calenglad watches him go, hopping into the small rowboat with the others and pushing off for Annúminas.

“Watch over them,” Calenglad murmurs to the lake. "They will need it." The clouds gather over Tinnudir.

---

“They were ready for us,” Hallas growls, throwing himself behind a pile of rubble beside Lendrain. “She is here, but at this rate we'll never reach her.” Lendrain curses, weighing another javelin in his hand.

“I have an idea,” he says reluctantly, and wishes Hallas’s look was more skeptical than hopeful. “When the way is clear, find Amarthiel.” His old friend frowns.

“Lendrain-” But he is already away, hurling his javelin straight for the Angmarim captain on the slope above them. Crossbows snap over the man's cry of pain, but Lendrain is already gone, throwing himself into a roll beneath the hail of bolts.

“Is that all the better your aim is?” Lendrain shouts as the crossbowmen throw aside their heavy weapons in favor of spears and swords. “It’s no wonder Múra was nearly unguarded- you must have put half your bolts in each other instead of the targets!”

“You!” Many of them turn on him, then, and ah, they really are still sore about that one. He hadn’t thought one sorceress was so much more beloved than any other, but they seem to have taken her death even more personally than that of the False King. Or whatever passes for death for one such as him, anyway.

Lendrain runs into the city and the Angmarim pursue him. He wanted to think he knew the broken streets well enough to lead them away, but fifteen years have come and gone since he last set foot in Annúminas himself, and it was not half so deadly, then. He can only hope enough of them pursue him that Hallas and Tadan and the others can find Amarthiel.

He bursts into an open court, the arches overgrown with ivy and stagnant water in the fountain. Another party of Angmarim turn at his entrance and he skids to a stop, but the others are hot on his heels and loud with rage and soon he is surrounded entirely. He hefts his axe, and slips his shield onto his arm, and prepares to stand until he can’t.

The ones he had led away from the docks are plenty eager to fall on him, and if he has forgotten the streets of the city he has never forgotten how to fight. He swings and swings and swings, and hopes this will be enough for- for everything. For the others to find what they need, for those he abandoned, for the peace of those he hasn’t saved since he came back to this.

He makes a fair accounting of himself, all things considered. Better than he has any right to, certainly, but eventually his foot lands on a stiff, lifeless arm and he falls, and his shield is torn from him and a heavy boot stomps hard on his axe-hand and he screams.

And then arrows fall among them and his enemies fall back, ducking for cover until they realize there are only two bowmen among the Rangers. Even when they realize how greatly they outnumber the five Dúnedain who rush into the courtyard, though, they keep their distance, watching the ruins about them as if they still spawn more Rangers at a moment's notice. Lendrain gasps for breath on the ground amid the bodies he made, every bruise and small scrape crying out at once as the rush of battle leaves him. 

“Lendrain?” Hallas calls, voice tight and worried. Lendrain waves a weak acknowledgement but doesn’t rise. Distantly, he wonders how many other Rangers survive within the walls of the sunken city. There hasn’t been word from Daerdan or any of his people in days. 

“Have you found-” he wheezes from his back, and chokes back the rest of the question when she arrives.

Amarthiel enters the courtyard in a rush of red, grabbing Hallas by the front of his armor as she passes and dragging him behind her. The others cry out, but she is attended by new lieutenants Lendrain has not seen before, their armor unlike that of the Angmarim champions- unlike any Lendrain has seen in his travels.

The Champion of Angmar seems less terrible by daylight, if only just. Her silver mask gleams in the sunlight and the red of her dress is nearer the color of roses than of blood. Lendrain feels again the touch of her hand on his face, the single point of incandescent heat like she wore a burning ring or else held a coal to his cheek.

“You have come a long way to see me again, Lendrain,” she says, ignoring Hallas as he grasps at her wrist. “I am glad to see you returned to Gath Forthnír alive.” His blood runs cold, and every word she says only worsens his dread. “It was useful while it lasted, but all things end one day. But you should rejoice! You and all your kin here, for I have brought a palantír to Annúminas once more, and with it I shall look out over my lands as the kings of old.” Hallas draws a dagger from his belt and strikes at her, but Amarthiel catches his wrist and looks at him with disdain, and in panic Lendrain struggles upright, making it no farther than his knees.

“Let him go!” he cries, raising empty hands. “Please-”

“Let him go?” Amarthiel laughs. “As he holds a blade to my chest? You are a bold one. What would you offer in exchange, if I were to grant such a request? You had best make it good.”

Anything, he wants to say, even with Hallas glaring at him upside-down in Amarthiel’s grasp. Anything. Just let him go. Because this is what he always feared, what he knew even as a child he couldn’t face. This is why he ran, and why he hardly dared return, even to see his dearest kin again. He thinks of Helegdir, holding back the raids from the north with the people of Aughaire, and of the nightmares of the Halls of Night, and he says nothing, only watching Hallas desperately, but Amarthiel smiles as she looks upon him, finding something in his face to her liking. She laughs, and throws Hallas aside, and strides away, her new entourage falling in behind her and the Angmarim in the court bowing as she passes.

“Morguldur,” she says over her shoulder, “deal with them.”

“Yes, Mistress,” one of the men says, stepping out of line. Fire dances around his hands, but Tadan’s bow-hand is true, and Morguldur is dead on the ground almost before his allies are out of sight.

“Lendrain,” Hallas says into the terrible, deathly quiet that follows, “what did you do? What did you offer her?”

Nothing, he wants to say, and wants it to be true, but her touch had burned and there is a blankness his memory will not fill and he doesn’t know why she turned away here. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know.”

[duskm0ther]

✧ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘 ✧

[duskm0ther]

played through all of endwalker again just to get here and take pics