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charminggirl512 · 2 years

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bad girl // chibs telford x oc

Chibs Telford x F!OC (Ellie Drysdale/Telford)

Warnings: 18+, smut, language

Word Count: 1,757

The sounds of keys clanking into the lock wakes me up and I sit up slowly to avoid puking. The couple of bottles of liquor that I drank last night do not agree with me, and I would probably feel at least a little bit bad if Unser had to clean up my puke. I slap Gemma's leg a couple of times and she startles awake. Once we're both standing up, we finally realize who has bailed us out this time.

"Ha! I told you mine would come first this time," I tease her and she rolls her eyes.

"I'll pay you once Wayne gives me my purse back. You cheated somehow and I'm gonna figure out how you did it so that I win next time," She retorts as we walk out of our shared cell towards my very ticked-off boyfriend.

"Hi, baby," I say and grip the leather of his kutte to attempt to peck his lips but he turns his face at the last second so that my lips land on his cheek.

"Don't 'hi, baby' me, darling. You're in trouble this time," Chibs replies, still attempting to look annoyed with me.

"Oh, is the big bad biker gonna spank me? Maybe you should be the one in the cell, sir," I mock him which just seems to piss him off more.

"No, you'll enjoy it too much. But I do plan on not fucking you for a couple of days until you learn your lesson."

My face drops and that seems to bring a smile to his lips. He kisses the top of my head before leading me out to his bike where Clay is arguing with Gemma once again. Chibs pulls my helmet over my tangled curls and ensures that it's on properly before finally pulling me against him and molding our lips together, his tongue pillaging my mouth until we're both breathless.

"I'm taking you to my house and then we're going to talk about this, Ellie. I can't keep getting calls from Unser telling me that you've been arrested again," He says firmly when we finally separate, his hands holding my face and his thumb stroking my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whisper and I know that it won't be enough, but it'll be a start.

He climbs on the bike first and I follow, pressing my cheek against his patch and winding my arms around his waist. I let the breeze distract me as he drives us to his house, most likely because he knows that if we go back to Gemma's where I'm still living, we'll have to overhear her and Clay either fighting or fucking. Once we're inside, I push off my ridiculous heels and head towards Chibs' room to change into some of his clothes. As I'm buttoning one of his button-downs, he enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair. I step between his legs and play with his hair while he rests his head against my stomach, his hands rubbing up and down the back of my thighs.

"You ready to tell me what happened?" I sigh deeply and launch into the story.

"Gem and I went out for a couple of drinks and got a little rowdy. The bartender didn't like that we were being loud, so he tried to kick us out. Gemma threw her drink in his face and when he grabbed her arm roughly, I punched him in the face. He called Unser and he picked us up and took us back to the jail. I guess he didn't call you and Clay until this morning."

"Oh, no. He called us last night before he even went and picked you two up," He replies and I push his head back to look at me. "Ellie, that's the third time this month that I've had to see you asleep in a jail cell. If it happens again, I'm not bailing you out. You'll sit in there until Unser releases you or someone else comes to pay your bail, but I'm not going to do it again."

"It won't happen again, but it's also not that big of a deal, Chibs," I mutter and that gets his attention.

"Not that big of a deal? Ellie, if you two fuck with the wrong guy just one time, I'll be picking you up from the morgue. You're not careful. You put yourself at risk and it scares the fuck out of me. Either you get it together, or we're done." I shove him away at that and he stands up and fixes me with a glare.

"I'm not careful? I put myself at risk? Jesus fuck, Chibs, your entire job is you not being careful and putting yourself at risk." He shakes his head at that and I step closer to him, pushing my finger into his chest. "Every morning, I wake up and pray that I'm not gonna get a call from one of your brothers telling me you're dead. So until you stop constantly being in danger, I'll continue to do the same."

"What I do is to protect you! It's to protect anyone connected to the club. Fuck, if I didn't love you, Eleanor, I wouldn't do what I have to do. I would be going about my life, fucking random chicks, and drinking myself away. But, I do love you so I put myself in danger because it means that I get to see you breathing just one more day."

He's so angry that he's almost panting when he finishes his rant, but I'm just in shock. We've never said that we love each other before, and of course, it would come out in the middle of an argument, like a bad cliche.

"You love me?"

"Shut up," He says before grabbing my face and kissing me.

I wrap myself around him and he's quick to pick me up and lead us to his bed. He throws me down and leans back to rip open my shirt, buttons flying everywhere, and I pull him back down to me. I nip at his lip before sliding my tongue into his mouth. Of course, he has to be the dominant one, so he takes over, pulling gasps and moans from my lips as he massages my bare tits and grinds himself against me. He moves down my neck, leaving his mark on me like a caveman.

"I love you," I gasp out as he wraps his lips around my nipple, and his hand slides into the front of my panties. He teases my entrance before dragging the moisture there up to my clit while his lips continue their assault all over my tits and neck.

"You're my pretty little slut, aren't you? Mine to fuck and to love and to yell at until I'm blue in the face to keep you safe. My little lamb, always so ready for me," He says into my ear as he pushes his fingers inside of me and continues to apply pressure to my clit with his thumb.

"Always, baby. You fuck me so good that I don't know how I ever lived without your cock inside of me. Please, fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me and kiss me like you love me."

My words send him into a frenzy and he literally rips my panties off of me before throwing the torn fabric over his shoulder. He unbuckles his belt and pulls his dick out, just barely applying pressure at my entrance before thrusting all the way in. He's so deep in me that I see the bulge in my belly before he pushes down on it, sending pleasure through my body. I let out a loud moan as he pushes one of my knees up by my chest and snaps his hips into me so roughly that I know that there'll be bruises on my hips and thighs tomorrow.

"You love when I'm rough with you, don't you, darlin'? It reminds you that you're just a hole for me to stick my dick in until I spray you with my come. You love to be degraded so much that you're dripping all over my cock, lamb." He reaches between us to make tight circles on my clit with his thumb, pulling me closer to the edge with every rotation.

"I'm just a dirty little slut who loves to be fucked," I moan out as his thrusts get even rougher. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come."

"Come all over my cock, baby, and then I'm fucking you from behind so that I can see that ass bounce while I remind you who you belong to."

I scream out his name as my pussy squeezes him before I come, my walls spasming around him. He barely gives me a second to recover before he's pulling out of me and flipping me over. I've just put my ass in the air when he slams into me and chases his own release. At this moment, I really am just a hole for him to fuck and I love it. His dick hits my g-spot with every thrust and he slaps my ass so hard that there'll be red handprints on there for at least a couple of hours. I chant his name over and over again as I come again and he presses his front to my back as he finally comes inside of me.

The only sounds in the room are our pants as come down. Chibs pushes my hair out of the way before pressing kisses down my spine and on the handprints that cover my bottom. I collapse onto the mattress and he gets a warm washcloth from the bathroom before kneeling by the side of the bed and wiping my pussy. He flips me over and peppers kisses all over my face, my favorite form of aftercare.

"I wasn't too rough with you, was I, lamb?" I shake my head and he gently kisses my lips one time before pulling both of us underneath the covers.

"I love you, Chibby," I whisper to him as he presses his front to my back with his hand rubbing circles on my stomach.

"I love you, my little Ellie."

"By the way, if that's the way that you fuck me when I get into trouble, expect to be getting a lot of phone calls." I feel him shake his head before dragging me closer to him. We fall asleep like that and soak up our love for one another.

#sons of anarchy #chibs #chibs fanfiction #chibs telford #fanfiction #filip telford #soa #clay morrow #gemma teller #tommy flanagan #chibs smut #smut

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my-favourite-zhent · 4 months

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New Tricks - Chapter 4

Ch1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Status: Work In Progress Version: 1.01 Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC Rating: NC-17 (eventually, this chapter is PG-13) Genre: Adventure/Romance Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Table of Contents Read Here on AO3 or below the cut~

New Tricks - Chapter Four

“So instead of the tablets, which I specifically asked for, you brought me a bunch of scribbles. Is that right?”

Zarys' voice was perfectly even, her volume that of a normal conversation, and her tone could almost be mistaken for friendly, almost.

Rugan knew from experience this meant she was very close to dismembering him in some way.

“Now Zarys, before we get ahead of ourselves-”

“Specifically asked for.” She repeated.

“They were just clay Zarys, not really relics or anything. The glyphs are all anyone would want.”

“How would you know, you bloody idiot? Are you a wizard now too? Read all up on artifacts are you?”

“Listen, just send the buyer and see for yourself. It's safer this way, I promise.”

“Fine. But if this job is fucked because of you I'm docking your pay, and I may just take a pound of flesh while I'm at it.” She walked to the office’s shutter window. She threw it open, overlooking the warehouse floor.

“Sal! Get me a damned sending scroll.”

“Right away, Zarys!” Came the red-headed wizards reply before she slammed the shutter back closed again.

“And you get out of my sight before I decide to take that flesh preemptively.”

Rugan inclined his head in deference and left without a word. He hurried down the stairs two at a time.

“Told you, you idiot.” Bellar was leaning on a pile of crates at the foot of the stairs. Olly was sat upon one crate fidgeting with his bow. They hadn't heard everything down here, but they had heard enough.

“It'll be fine.” Rugan tried to sound confident but he was beginning to wonder. Sal hurried past them, up the stairs with a scroll in hand.

“Don't expect me to cover your escape when you find yourself needing to flee the city.”

“I have a cousin here in Waterdeep you could stay with Rugan.”

“Dammit Olly, let him clean up his own mess.”

“I appreciate the sentiment lad but it won't come to that, and I don't want to hear anything more on the subject.”

“Rugan, can I talk to you for a moment?” It was Garias who had approached the trio.

“Now's maybe not the best time.”

“It's about Brem.”

Rugan dragged one hand down his face in frustration, a ragged groan escaping him. “Fine, lead the way.”

Garias led him to one of the storage alcoves on the far side of the warehouse. Rugan practically collapsed onto one of the nearby chests while he watched Garias pace back and forth.

“Well, spit it out lad.”

“Right, so the thing is, the thing with the girl I mean. Right, the thing is, it wasn't Brem.”

“The girl from the ambush? How do you mean it wasn't Brem? Of course it was your brother, Bellar saw them together.”

“Well, yeah but Brem was already asleep by the time she started asking questions.”

“What do you mean, already asleep?” Rugan threw his head back and laughed as realization dawned on him. “By the Black Hand is there anything you idiots don't share?”

“Well you know people pay good money at Sharess-”

“I really need you to stop now, little cousin.”

“Right.”

Rugan sighed and put his head in his hands. “So you're saying I have to apologize to Brem now?”

“Well I mean, he'd probably appreciate it.”

“Stupid of him to take the fall for you but fine, I'll treat him to a pint tomorrow. Assuming of course I survive the rest of the night.”

“Rugan!” Came Zarys' shout from across the warehouse. “Now where has he gotten off to?”

“I'm here Zarys.” He approached the window, chest tight.

“Thought you'd run off on me.”

“Too old for that, knees would give out.”

“It's your lucky day then. Buyer's pleased with your creative problem solving. You, lanky and the boy each get a bonus.”

+++++

The trio had decided to celebrate their good fortune at the docks ward the next night. They dragged Brem along for good measure and in turn it had been Brem who recommended the Blackstaron inn.

“I fold.” Rugan placed his hand down on the table. The tavern was bustling with noisy patrons, and the smell of beer hung on the place like a hoppy cape.

“Ah c’mon Rugan.” Olly pleaded. “Lemme win back my coin.”

“No thank you, besides Brem is gonna clean us all out.”

“It can’t be helped that you lot are hopeless at cards.” Been chirped merrily.

Bellar put his hand down as well. “Yeah I'm done, don't aspire to losing all my coin to this tosser.”

“Fancy a pint at the bar?” Rugan asked Bellar with a nod of his head.

“Nah, I need a tall drink but not of that sort.” Rugan followed his gaze to a barmaid with a mischievous smile.

“Good luck to you mate.” He clapped Bellar on the back as he rose from his seat. “You too lad, just remember Brem squints when he has a good hand.”

“Oy don't tell him that!” Brem complained after Rugan as the man made his way to the bar.

Leaning on the counter he ordered an ale and turned to look down the worktop as he waited. There was a pair conversing on the opposite end, after a moment he realized he recognized one of them. She hadn’t seen him yet, chatting as she was with another man. No finery this time, she wore a simple blouse that cinched under her bust and her hair was tied back, but it was definitely the woman in green. The bartender slid over his drink and Rugan watched her over the lip of the glass as he downed it.

It was then that they locked eyes. He noted the surprise on her countenance that quickly turned to a smile. She gave a little wave and he couldn't help but grin and waggle his fingers back. Her conversation partner had also turned to see who she was greeting, his expression soured upon seeing Rugan. The zhent watched her turn and make some excuse to the man.

“Fancy meeting you here.” She was practically beaming as she approached.

“That's twice now you've abandoned your date for me, either you're very fond of me or extremely fickle.”

Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she reached out to run her fingers down his jaw. “What's not to like?”

“The feeling’s mutual, lass.” She smiled coyly at that.

“Do you have a name zhent?”

“Planning on screaming it for me later?”

“Presumptuous.”

“I'd also accept moaning.”

“You cocky bastard.” She was laughing already.

“Whining, even.”

“Tell me the damned name already!” Despite her raised voice, her cheeks were aching from smiling.

“Rugan.” He said at last. “And you? Erica was it?”

“No. That was just for the job.”

“Well, go on then.”

“Isolde.”

“Isolde? You are a bleeding noble after all.”

“I am not!”

“Name like that? Too posh for us common folk.”

“My parents were old-fashioned is all.”

“Ah, so it is your real name this time.”

“It is.”

“And why give me the real one?”

“Because I'll get jealous if I hear another name on your lips.”

“You're almost a worse flirt than me. Still too posh though.” He mused. “Can I give you a nickname?” Rugan turned to the bartender briefly, raising two fingers to indicate another round.

“You are a cad after all, aren’t you? Fine then, let's hear it.”

“Izzy, I think that suits a little minx like you.”

“Alright then. But I reserve the right to give you a nickname once I come up with one.”

“It's a deal.” And he made a show of shaking her hand to seal the contract, drawing another laugh. “Don't often give out the real one, do you?”

“No.” She admitted, looking a little embarrassed and he worried for a moment that he had pried.

“Too many pushy suitors is it?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh aye, I understand completely.” Rugan held up his hands in mock seriousness. “Folks are harassing me all the time. Never taking ‘no’ for an answer.” Her smile had returned and he felt himself relax.

“Poor thing, you must be beating them off with a stick.”

Rugan had a cheeky rebuttal to that, but luckily two drinks were slammed down in front of them before it could come tumbling out of his mouth.

He paid for the drinks, waving off her attempts to reach for her coin purse. “It's on me, got a nice little bonus thanks to you.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed, but let's chat somewhere a little more private. Shall we?” He directed her to an empty table at one of the various alcoves that lined one wall of the tavern.

Rugan noted with no small interest that Isolde scooted her chair right up to his as they sat down.

“My employer was very happy with those etchings of yours.” ‘Eventually’.

“Glad to hear it.”

“How about you? Make a nice profit on yours then?”

“Oh no, mine's not for sale. Personal project.”

“Personal project?” He asked incredulously. “Do you mean to frame it on your wall?”

“No,” She laughed. “I mean to translate it. I'm an archaeologist of sorts, I specialize in a few of the old tongues.”

“Should’ve figured you for an academic. What's a prestigious scholar such as yourself doing crashing parties and looting safes?”

“I’m not a proper scholar, at least not one anyone recognizes, no money for studies means no proper degree. But I have audited a few classes.”

“You did their taxes?”

“No!” Isolde couldn't help but laugh. She loved the way his pitch rose in confusion when he asked the question.

“It's just a fancy way of saying I sat in on lectures without paying. So most wouldn't recognize me as a proper student.”

“You're allowed to do that?”

She hesitated a moment. “Sometimes…”

“So you're an academic that lacks legitimacy, still doesn't explain why you're rooting through towers.”

“I told you, personal project. I don’t usually rob places where the inhabitants are still alive.”

“Usually?” He enjoyed teasing her, she was surprisingly candid.

“Hard to find legitimate work in a field largely funded by nobles if you can't get a recommendation from a professor.”

“So who are your regular clients?”

“Most often smaller religious groups and uh, occasionally tomb raiders.”

“Almost sounds dangerous when you put it like that, lass.”

“I have met some rough characters.” She eyed him meaningfully, lips pulled into a playful grin.

“Why do I get the feeling you like it that way?” To accentuate his point Rugan grabbed Isolde by the waist, easily pulling her into his waiting lap. She smiled at him, wrapping an arm around his neck before leaning in to press her lips against his throat, mouth searing hot like a brand.

Rugan groaned in response and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Maybe we should take this upstairs.”

“As much as I would like that,” Her fingertip tracing patterns on his chest. “I believe your friend is about to get into some trouble.” She tilted her head towards a table across the way where Bellar was heavily flirting with an older red-headed woman. The woman was smiling wide and leaned down to give Bellar a kiss. “He's one of yours isn't he? Recognize him from the party.”

“Bellar? He's not doing anything-”

“That’s the innkeeper's wife, love.” Right on cue the proprietor approached Bellar with four strapping lads at his side, his sons by the looks of it.

“By the Black Hand.” Rugan cursed as he deposited Isolde back in her seat and made for Bellar's table. He reached for his blade before remembering Zarys' warning.

“Fisticuffs it is then.”

+++++

The quartet had been beaten, handily.

“Out of here, the lot of you.” The innkeeper barked at the zhents, and when he saw Isolde standing to the side. “That goes for you as well, miss.”

The burly sons were busy shoving them out the front door, past the remaining frightened patrons and broken furniture.

“I've already paid for my room.” Isolde complained indignantly as she fished out her room key from her cloak pocket. “Are you going to reimburse me?”

“Consider it damages for your associates handiwork.” The man sneered.

“They're not my associates, I'm no mercenary!”

“Yeah but you're associated with them aren't ya? At least that one there. That makes you associates.”

“No more than your wife.” Isolde bit back. Rugan manoeuvered himself between her and the innkeeper just as the man stepped forward menacingly.

“Now now, there's no need for more violence.” The zhent held up a hand in a gesture of peace. “The lady will hand over her key.” Rugan half turned to her and extended his other hand at this. She made a petulant face and started to retort when Rugan's narrowing eyes made her think better of it.

“Fine.” She deposited the keys in his hand, still pouting. Rugan in turn, deftly tossed them to the innkeeper.

“There, now everyone’s happy.” The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile, yet the expression was somehow more threatening than anything else.

The innkeeper only grunted his assent before nodding to his sons. The family re-entered the inn, but were no doubt watching them from the windows.

“God's Izzy you're worse than this lot with that mouth of yours.” He sighed in exasperation.

“Man’s robbing me! Why should I be polite?” She huffed.

Behind her Brem and Bellar finally broke into the cackles they had been holding in. Olly only shrugged.

“Did’ya see his face though?” Bellar was grasping at his sides.

“Don't encourage her. And don't think I've forgotten we're in this mess because of you Bellar.”

“Not my fault, the wife said they had an arrangement.”

“And you took her word for it?” The incredulity in Rugan's tone was unmistakable.

“Says the man in a honey trap.” Bellar coughed back the last of his laughs.

Rugan shook his head ruefully. “Come on then, I saw another inn just down the road.” He turned to a still pouting Izzy. “Don't fret about the coin lass, you can stay with me as long as you like.” He held out his arm for her. “You were planning to spend the night with me anyways, weren't you?”

The pout melted from her face and she appraised him a moment before making a show of daintily taking his arm. “Well if you're going to be a gentleman.” She cooed while resting her head on his shoulder, knowing very well he was not.

“I'll be the very model of chivalry.” He could hear that Bellar and Brem had begun their cackling and hooting again. He shot them a smirk as he led the party down the docks.

#rugan #bg3 rugan #rugan bg3 #zhentarim #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #new tricks #bg3 fanfic: new tricks

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betweenthepoems · 4 months

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Finally got myself to actually draw a decent pic of Loki. Coupled with an older pic I’ve made of Sigyn.

Note that those are my interpretations of those deities as the characters for my Wattpad YA novel project. This is meant to be a retelling but with some major changes to the Norse lore filled with some extra details from me, so look at them as if they were OCs.

OK, with that out of the way, here’s some stuff about each of them:

LOKI:

AFAB, genderfluid, but mostly stays in masculine forms, although isn’t shy about being born as a girl. Will punch, however, if someone brings it up in an insulting manner.

Even if he’s male at the moment, still has some feminine traits in his looks. More beautiful than handsome, like in some old shoujo manga. For this pic of him I specifically used a panel of Lady Oscar from Riyoko Ikeda’s The Rose of Versailles as a reference.

This Loki is half Aesir, half Jotunn and a shapeshifter, capable of changing every part of his body as he wishes… except his eyes that always stay the same, showing who that person really is. That wouldn't be much of a problem if he didn’t have very unique eyes. Their odd colors and shape, coming from his Jotunn DNA with some mutations don’t help him with appearing as a good person or not standing out from the crowd.

Exhibits traits similar to that of ADHD. In universe they say he has bees inside his head. Also an extrovert.

Using high school tropes, he’s more of a class clown with some believing he’s a hopeless case.

Homeless by choice, but sometimes crashes at one of his few friends' places. This includes Eir’s, whom he sees as the closest thing to a mother figure and teacher, Thor’s, Sigyn’s and Balder’s.

Before Sigyn, Loki wasn’t ever in a serious relationship, at best flirting. Other than with her, the closest he was with Balder, but had to shut it down because of Frigg’s disapproval. Balder is still open to starting again.

SIGYN:

Autistic and an introvert, very fond of being left alone. Takes pride in being independent and doesn’t like asking for help unless she really can’t do something alone.

Hates being touched without permission, especially touching someone else’s bare skin with her own. She finds it gross, with all that pores secreting stuff and living, moving flesh underneath.

Recently she had survived being mauled almost to death by a pack of hungry wolves, leaving her with both physical and mental scars as well as chronic pain in one of her legs and hand. Despite this she still tries to live as she used to, even if she needs to take some limits into account.

Sigyn is a demigodess. She used to live as a hermit deep in Migdard woods, believed by local humans to be a cryptid, but now, after the attack, lives in the outskirts of an Asgardian village in Thor’s domain.

Being half god, half human, height wise she’s in the middle: at 175 cm not as tall as the average goddess but taller than the average human at the time of the vikings. The best way to describe her is as if someone made a lifesize clay sculpture of a girl and then, when the material was still soft, stretched out some body parts and toned down to the absolute minimum all feminine traits. She’s still looking like a girl, but could pass as a young man by just wearing male clothing.

Sigyn likes to keep her hair short and would cut whenever it became possible to tie them into a ponytail. That’s because she finds them hard to maintain and bothersome getting everywhere even when tied.

#loki #sigyn #logyn #wattpad #myth loki #norse mythology #books #writing #myth!loki

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shadow-tumbler · 3 months

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See you again (Brozone & CJ)

(Note: CJ is my ocs who is Floyd's twin)

Cj's pov

I was just heading back home from work which for a troll in a place like mount rages is pretty unusual but I managed and surprisingly I've done pretty well for myself. You see I used to live with my 5 brothers and grandma, my brothers were all in the band brozone together and their last show was a disaster which resulted in all but branch leaving. When Floyd didn't come back like he said I went looking for him promising branch I'll be back as soon as I could but I unfortunately never found Floyd and I had been away for to long. The guilt I felt was like my heart was ripped out of my chest and I felt like I couldn't face him again so I stayed away all this time eventually getting a job and finding a place to live. Tonight is the big performance of velvet and veneer but there is something about them that always felt off to me, I couldn't explain it tho people's reactions when I'd say I'm not a fan was really funny to me. As I was walking I froze for a second when I heard singing that brought back memories, I quickly ran towards it and found a spot in the crowd over looking a boat and I was in shock at what I saw. All of my brothers were there and were performing together again which filled my heart of a love I hadn't felt in years, I witnessed it all as they saved Floyd and as velvet and veneer got arrested. I especially felt a wave of pride as I saw branch sharing a kiss with who I realised was princess poppy, I finally get back home and I couldn't stop thinking about my brothers. I fiddled with my charm bracelet I had made which had the first letter of each of their names "I need to see them again" I tell myself.

*a week later*

I found out that their all at this place called vacay Island and I found a hotel, booked a room and I'm now stood by a stage waiting for this show to start while building myself up "okay you can do this" I tell myself. I looked over to the to my left as I'm stood the right of the stage and I felt a lump in my throat seeing clay, spruce, jd and Floyd stand there and I quickly looked away before I drew attention to myself. I watched the entire show with pride as they all sang and even princesses poppy and viva had joined them, as they finished the last song me and Floyd made eye. I saw his eyes widen and I felt my chest tighten which could only mean one thing so I had to get out of this crowd but I was unaware of who had followed me outside. I tried to calm myself down "Cj?" I heard a familiar voice speak and I slowly looked up to see all 5 of my brothers stood there, I felt all words get caught up in my throat. I thought they'd all hate me or something especially branch so imagine my surprise when he was the first to walk over and pulled into the first hug I've had since I left "I can't believe your alive" he spoke softly. I finally snap out of it and hugged him back letting all my tears out and one by one the others joined us and I fully brust into tears repeatedly saying I was sorry. It took branch gully grabbing my shoulders and shaking me for me to stop "don't apologise!, yea I may have been a little upset that you never came back but all that matters now is that we're all together again" he says and I whipe my eyes with a soft smile "You guys have a sister?!" A voice yelled and I see poppy and viva run over. I gave my best smile that I could muster up "yea poppy we do" branch says and i have not been this happy in so long as we all caught up with eachother.

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls band together clay #trolls clay #trolls band together branch #trolls band together bruce #trolls band together floyd #trolls band together john dory #trolls branch #trolls bruce

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agentplutonium · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday

I haven't done one of these in forever, and once again haven't been tagged. Either way you guys get the littlest update on what I am working on so that I am held responsible for what I do. ANYWAY

(if ya'll wanna do something too you should tag me! I love seeing people's works :D)

This week I wanna show y'all two snippets, one from my OC work and one from a fandom I rarely talk about on here. I'll start with the fanfic stuff first (all is gonna be under the cut because I think it looks cooler that way)

So, here I present a part of my Cher & Sherlock character study. These guys are from NeXus (created by the one and only @mr-laveau which can be found on their youtube channel). This mostly is just me seeing how my Characterizations of these two listener characters play out with one another. That and I have been itching to write something NeXus related since the second video on the channel. Anyway:

The clock ticked on the wall. There was the occasional shout from outside the apartment. Cher sat at the table, shoulders rigid, fingers tapping the wood beneath them impatiently. The wood was smooth under their arm, the back of the chair digging into their shoulder blades. They wanted to keep moving. They wanted out of here. They wanted to keep everyone safe. Cher was dropped off at Alonzo’s and his partner’s place to be babysat, despite what Uriah told them. He said it was for their safety but they felt Uriah didn’t trust them, or that he thought they couldn’t take care of themselves. It was humiliating. Not to mention this was probably putting the lovers out of their way just to be there with them. They did not want to do that to them. They were not worth the amount of effort the two vampires were putting into them. Suddenly, a mug was placed before them, snapping out of their thoughts. Owl, what Cher has taken to calling Alonzo’s partner, took the seat across from them, a matching mug in their hands. They were silent, not looking at Cher. Their presence wasn’t… unwanted, but Cher still felt on edge. Their fingers stopped tapping. They couldn’t help but analyze the situation, Owl’s body language, the way they kept their eyes on the mug in their hands, the mug that was left suspended between the two of them. But Owl just fucking sat there. The silence lasted for a few more moments. “It’s just hot chocolate, I’m not trying to kill you,” Owl said, those eyes finally glancing at them. “Thought you might like something to do than just sitting here.”

(You will probably be able to find this fic soon on my AO3 :D)

And now my favourite part of this: the part where I get to show off my OCS. If you haven't seen anything before these two are my god characters. They are the sole reason why in my world anything exists. They are literally my heart and soul you guys i don't know if you understand. ANYWAY, snippet of the creation of the Strix:

Terra had been messing around with different designs for a bit, shaping and reshaping the clay in her hands in an almost bored manner. None of the designs were sticking out to her, and weren’t exactly how she was picturing things. Normally, this wasn’t such a problem. She was usually able to perfectly recreate what she was thinking. However, each time she did just that she found that the design was impractical, or didn’t look the way she imagined it would. In all honesty it was starting to irk her quite a bit.

She was about to give up on the design, but tried one more time. This one was also imperfect, but… Terra thought it had potential. It was a small, winged creature that Terra was going for, but there were a few things that she fixed or added. One of them was a short, curved, needle sharp beak. The other was sharper talons as well. After messing with the colours for a bit, making them a clash of green’s and blue’s, Terra brought the prototype to life. It slowly became mobile, turning it’s head from side to side, watching Terra curiously. Terra held out a finger to it, and it readily hopped over onto it, turning back to Terra and giving a small chirp.

Terra grinned, mouth stretching wide as she watched her creation. “Well, hello, little one,” Terra said gently. “You’re not as big as some of your cousins, but I think you look absolutely adorable.”

The creature chirped in response.

Terra only smiled wider, nose scrunching in the process. “Well then, what shall we name you and your siblings? Hm? Any ideas?”

The creature didn’t respond, only tilting it’s head in the other direction. Terra pursed her lips as she thought.

“What about… finches? No, that’s a bit to human sounding. We need something different.” Terra hummed, reaching up to gently stroke her fingers over the creature’s feathers. She had gotten an idea, and her eyes lit up. “Oh, what about Strix? That’s a fun sounding name. What do you think?” The creature chirped again, and Terra smiled. “I’m so glad. We’ll have to tell Caelus next time we see him, I did promise I’d keep him-”

“Tell me what?” Caelus asked, beside her all of a sudden. He settled next to her on the ground, eyes immediately falling to the Strix. “Never mind. I figured it out.”

Terra gave a sheepish smile, holding out the Strix. “Don’t you think he’s cute, though?”

Caelus didn’t seem like he did. He was never very good at hiding his feelings, especially not from her. “He’s… something,” Caelus said.

Terra swatted at his arm playfully. “Be nice at least. He’s technically yours too.”

Caelus looked spooked by the prospect, however he didn’t have time to comment on it before the Strix was hopping onto his knee. Caelus held as still as possible, eyes not leaving the thing.

“Aw! He likes you!” Terra gushed.

“And, uh… what is he, exactly?” Caelus asked.

“I call them Strix,” Terra said matter-of-factly, but she was already getting distracted.

Caelus stayed like that, staring down this creature. If he was honest, he actually didn’t mind this one all that much. It was a bit of an eyesore, but he was a bit smaller than the others. It was roughly the size of half his forearm in height. A manageable size. The creature chirped at him, and Caelus couldn’t help but give a small smile, reaching forward to cautiously stroke the feathers on the creature’s head. It looked like a freaky bird, he commented to himself.

Terra’s words caught up to him then, and he snapped his gaze to her. “I’m sorry, them? What do you mean them?”

“There’s more than one,” Terra said, like it was obvious, “I just haven’t had the time to make them. But-” She trailed off, taping the ground in front of her, at the feet of a few dozen more. They came to life in a blink, all staring at their companion and at Caelus. It was only a second more before Caelus was swarmed in a flurry of feathers and wings. Terra gasped, watching as the creatures settled and Caelus was covered with the birds.

Caelus did not look happy. Terra tried to keep her giggling subdued.

“Get them off,” Caelus said through his teeth.

“I don’t know, I think this look suits you,” Terra snickered.

“Terra-”

“Okay okay,” Terra said, though her amusement was still evident. She rose to her knees, hands reaching for the creatures, fanning them away or moving them herself. “Come on guys, you heard him. Shoo. Go.”

Caelus was relieved when they were all gone, but he was still grumpy. Terra giggled again.

“Oh come on, It wasn’t that bad! Stop being so grumpy. I saw you smiling at the first one, I know you secretly like them,” Terra teased.

“I do not,” Caelus denied.

“Uh-huh, okay, whatever you say big guy.”

Terra’s amusement was cut short when one of the Strix flew over and pecked at her neck.

“Ow!” She cried out, hand flying to the spot. She frowned at the creature who fluttered in front of her, looking up with that curious gaze of theirs. She pulled her hand away, only for it to come back smeared with blood. Her frown deepened even more.

“Are you okay?” Caelus asked, concern in his tone, half reaching toward her out of habit.

“Yeah,” Terra said, more mystified than in pain. “They shouldn’t… they probably don’t know better. They were just created after all.”

Caelus still seemed wary, but Terra didn’t allow for the conversation to continue. Instead, she started herding the birds up to place in a temporary home until she felt like they could join the rest of the world. It was going to be a while before they were accustomed to their new world, and Terra also had to train them on a few things to keep them safe.

This will be fine, Terra could feel it in her very core.

If you wanna read more, I also have this story about Terra and her realization that Vampires exist.

that is all I have, but but I love talking about my things and am open to any questions, and like I said i'd love to see y'alls work too!!

#plutonium_WIPW #plutonium_fanfiction #plutonium_rambles #Plutonium_Files #guys i need to talk about my things in order to get it written #it is a curse that I bear #ocs #original character #nexus #nexus fanfiction #that's right im starting that tag

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 1 year

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MASTERLIST

NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

Warnings: Somewhat graphic violence, mentions of weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 2044

It was a beautiful Chiapanecan night. The warm air blew through the top of the trees and thousands of insects could be heard in the absolute silence of the isolated highway that crossed the mountains. Right next to the road stood an old public payphone. A young woman walked next to the highway, her eyes absently looking to the front. The few passing cars quickly sped up when they spotted her ghostly silhouette, and with good reason.

Her clothes were covered in blood.

She finally reached the payphone and dialed a number. The only person she had in the world after that night. After a few seconds, an elderly woman groggily answered. “¿Chiich?”

“¿Xmeech? ¿Estás bien? ¿Por qué no me habías llamado en semanas? ¿Sabes qué hora es?” Are you okay? Why hadn’t you called in weeks? Do you know what time it is?

Mercedes opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, a painful surge of images invaded her mind.

She didn’t really remember anything else after that except telling Chiich she was coming home. It was over. Dad could rest in peace now. She had taken care of it as she promised. A week later, the nightmares continued but everything else was wonderful. After what felt like forever they were finally sitting together at the breakfast table, having coffee. As she poured Chiich another cup, Sadie’s heart felt at peace. Everything would be better from then on.

“I don’t understand why you insist on going to such dangerous places,” Chiich insisted. Mercedes sighed and grabbed the milk, knowing how her grandmother liked her coffee.

“I do what I must, Chiich. And can we not argue about this every single time I come to visit please?”

Oh, how she wanted to tell Chiich said arguments would be finally over. However, Mercedes decided she’d rather do it later, not during breakfast.

After all, they had all the time in the world.

The pain was sharp enough to wake her.

It started out as a dull ache, but when she tried to take a deep breath, it felt as if her entire chest was on fire. A whimper left Mercedes’ lips as she slowly blinked, finding herself in a dimly lit space. Slowly, her eyes began making out shapes in the darkness. She was on a bed with soft, copal-smelling sheets. The room was comfortably warm, and the walls were made out of some sort of smooth rock with a shiny, glass-like coating. Sadie tried moving her legs, to no avail. Terrified, she sat up and looked at them just to realize it was only because someone was sitting next to the bed with one arm resting on top of her right shin.

“Sa'asik in,” Namora apologized, “I didn’t realize you were awake,”

A million questions already forming on her lips, Mercedes cleared her throat realizing it was impossibly dry.

“You shouldn’t try to talk,” The woman advised, reaching out for a clay pot and its matching glass. She poured a liquid into it and carefully offered it to Sadie, “Do you think you’re strong enough to…?”

Sadie nodded and pushed herself onto a sitting position with a pained yelp and grabbed the glass. Whatever that drink was, it was fruity yet bitter and made her entire torso go numb just seconds after her first sip.

“Where am I?” She asked, finally able to speak again.

“For now, all you need to know is that you’re safe,” Namora explained calmly.

Mercedes looked under the pale, bone-colored gown she was wearing and noticed the several bandages on her. She also noticed an odd metallic artifact latched onto her wrist with a glass sphere embedded in the middle of it, filled with a clear liquid. Carefully running her fingertips along it, she felt an odd sting.

“Don’t touch that. It’s connected to your veins.”

“Have I been out for too long?” Mercedes asked lying back down, quickly feeling tired of her sitting position. She had never in her life felt that weak.

“A couple of days. You had water in your lungs too. I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

“Thank you for making sure I wasn’t alone here either,” Mercedes said with a weak smile, wanting to avoid the subject. Namora nodded, sincerely returning the gesture.

“I’ll inform K’uk’ulkan that you’re awake now. He has been busy these past few days, but I’m sure he will want to know.”

Mercedes just nodded. He hadn’t come to see her, then. Good. She didn’t think she’d be able to so much as look at him without trying to gauge his eyes out with her nails. Or maybe it would be better if he visited now that she wasn’t strong enough to even hold herself up.

Except Namor didn’t come. Her only company for the following three days was the occasional Talokanil medic who periodically made sure everything was fine and adjusted the device on her wrist. Those days went by pretty quickly since Mercedes mostly slept, which she blamed on whatever they were injecting her with. But by the time they removed the artifact and she was more alert, Namor’s absence became more evident and infuriating.

What kind of sociopath would do something like that? Leaving her to die then saving her life, and then just disappearing? Also, the last words she had heard from Wexler plagued her mind every time she closed her eyes, sometimes even when she was awake. Namora turned out to be of great help. Whenever she visited, she never talked much, but she was a good listener. The kind you could tell was actually paying attention, only intervening when absolutely necessary.

“Are you alright?” She had asked one day she noticed Mercedes staring at the void, her eyes glossy and knuckles grasping the sheets so strongly they turned white.

No, Ms. Medina. I’m afraid it is my turn to ask you a question….

“Yes. It just hurts a little, that’s all.”

They had removed the bandages by then. Talokanil technology was remarkable. What she thought would be a gruesome scar was nothing but a pale, crooked line. It was noticeable, but it could have been worse.

“Even if everything turned out fine, it was wrong of him to take that risk without alerting us.”

“What?” Mercedes turned to look at her inquisitively.

“I know you are the most familiarized with those people you dealt with, so I understand why he would think it was a good idea to make you come along when he found the ship, but it was still too risky. It’s not usual of him to be that reckless.”

So that was what he had said happened.

Of course, he wasn’t about to admit he had impulsively jumped onto a boat to recapture her after she’d nearly escaped.

“I’ll come back later. You should sleep some more.”

Despite assuring Namora she was perfectly capable of leaving this hospital room of sorts, for some reason they had insisted on keeping her there a little bit longer to keep an eye on her.

A few seconds after the woman left, Mercedes was about to close her eyes when the opaque glass door slid open once again, but this time the visitor was even more unexpected than Namor himself. Attuma stood in the doorway, his expression as blank and undecipherable as always. Confused, she simply stared in silence until he spoke.

“Can you walk?”

Mercedes nodded hesitantly. He turned around and walked down the hall. She quickly followed, discovering she was definitely not in the same caves she’d inhabited during her first month in Talokan. This time the walls were definitely made out of vibranium, with glowing blue lines traced along the walls to light up the narrow hall. Instead of following a straight path, the hall followed a curve that went on to form a circle with several passages that diverged from the main structure to end in rooms similar to the one Mercedes had been healed in, except there was no furniture in them.

Sadie went in first, and so she noticed the room was equally empty save for one thing. Right in the corner, he had placed the special suit Sadie had hidden in one of the grottos as a decoy.

Alarmed, the girl turned to look at the Talokanil that was now blocking the only exit. Had he found it and figured out she had tried to escape? Did anybody else know she was there? Then she noticed the vibranium weapons resting against the wall, perfectly reachable from where they were both standing. Maybe if she moved quickly enough she could grab one first, but even then he would be nearly impossible to take down. Sadie didn’t even want to think how many pounds heavier…

“He might have told us a different version to protect you, but I have a different idea of what happened that day,” Attuma suddenly spoke, “And you’re not doing yourself a favor by making K’uk’ulkan lie to us.”

“I did not…” Mercedes immediately attempted to protest but was immediately silenced when he inched his way toward a spear that hung from the wall. She knew moving backwards was useless, so she decided to stand her ground.

“He thinks you have a courageous spirit. It might be true.” For a second, he lowered his glance to her hands, where she noticed the scars on her knuckles were still visible. “But the way I see it, you stupidly take on risks you’re not ready to face. There is nothing more dangerous than a careless and weak person who doesn’t realize it. And you will not endanger Talokan and its protector just because he thinks you need to be protected.”

A tense silence followed. Attuma reached out his hand and Mercedes’ entire body went stiff, ready to either make a run for the door, her heart beating so fast she could feel it in her throat. The Talokanil warrior grabbed a thin wooden rod that rested next to the spear and threw it in her direction.

“Can you fight?” He asked. Puzzled, Sadie looked at what she had in her hands and back at him.

“Just throw punches,” She replied, “I never had to fight somebody who actually knew how to fight.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” He asked again. Mercedes was barely opening her mouth to answer that firearms were practically her only area of knowledge when he shut her down, “Real weapons.”

As she shook her head, he sighed with what felt like the disappointment of a hundred generations at the same time.

“Stand still.” He ordered, circling her. Like a shark, Mercedes thought. How appropriate.

“You don’t have a narrow body or limbs, ” He stated, “It will be hard for you to be particularly agile or fast, but you can be strong and resistant, an áak.”

“Wow, thanks,” She replied, hoping the nickname wouldn’t catch on.

“Now attack me,” He ordered, standing in front of her.

“But you don’t have a weapon,” Sadie objected.

“I want to train you, áak. Not kill you.”

He was right in front of her, looking perfectly at ease. She didn’t want to be too cocky, but maybe this was just a demonstration of how little it would hurt him if she struck him with all her might. Mercedes held the stick like it was a baseball bat and swung at his side. One second later she was staring at the ceiling, both of her wrists hurt and her weapon was now in enemy hands.

“You tried to make sure it was a fair fight, good,” Attuma continued, standing next to her while she recovered, “But never forget your enemies might not be as honorable as you. If they force you…”

While still on the floor, Sadie jammed the tip of the rod against the side of Attuma’s knee, forcefully bending it and causing him to fall on the other one. Still, he quickly grabbed the other end of the weapon and shoved it against the back of her neck harshly enough to make her fall to the floor. Despite how easily and quickly he had disarmed her for the second time, he looked satisfied.

“Perhaps there is some useful fighting spirit in you after all, áak,”

The Translations:

Sa'asik in: Forgive me Áak: Turtle

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nerdferatum · 1 year

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Pottery date for nat and lamia maybe?

Thank you!! This isn't the usual pottery date, but I hope you like it (and also that you don't mind that I'm using the prompt for the OC Kiss Week day 3: nostalgia)

Short spin-off for Natalie Sewell or the modern Pygmalion (read on AO3)

Pottery date, making their own homemade gifts for the other (+AO3 link)

Spring in Wayhaven was a beautiful sight. Nat had mentioned it to Lamia a few times in the last few days, but, she, used to the blooming flowers and the joyful chatter, just said that it looked the same it always did. She was probably right, Nat thought while waiting outside of the workshop. After all, she had seen those same trees lose their leaves thirty times by then, how could it be as impressive to her as it was to Nat?

However, when she turned to the store window, she was as transfixed on the details of the ceramic work as she was the first time she was close to a ceramist for the first time, even though that happened more than 300 years ago. She still got lost in the delicate details of the lusterware and the bright colours of amateur mugs, to the point she didn’t notice Lamia approaching her until she was right by her side.

“I’ve wanted to give pottery a try since this store opened,” Lamia stated as a greeting.

“It took you long enough,” Nat replied, smiling.

“I was waiting for the right company.” Lamia leaned in to kiss Nat’s cheek and took her hand, before leading her inside. She was wearing her favourite hijab neatly pinned so it wouldn’t get in the way of their lesson, matching the blush toned scarf with a long vest and wide pants. Only she could choose a white sweater for a pottery class, thought Nat, trying to hide a chuckle.

“So,” whispered Lamia as everyone was taking their seats, “any tips for beginners?”

“Me? I know as much as you do.”

“Really? I was hoping for some help from an expert,” Lamia sighed, looking less confidently at her block of clay.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I was more interested in sculpting back then.”

“Of course you were.” Lamia rolled her eyes fondly at her. “Is there that much of a difference?”

“Just enough, I suppose. It will be nice to be an apprentice again.”

“How long has it been since the last time you were in an atelier?”

Lamia scooted over her chair to get closer, genuinely curious about what Nat might say. She knew the vampire didn’t usually share too much of her past, so, during conversations like that one, she would gently push for any nugget of information. Nat was aware of her need to know her story, all of it, and, although it melted her heart only to think about it, there was something holding her back from saying anything that could detangle her past for her. They didn’t know each other for a long time, even if it felt like a lifetime. What was a year in eternity?

“Seven years,” Nat finally confessed. She knew Lamia was waiting for more, but she couldn’t bring herself to it. What would she think after she heard the story? Would she still see her the same way? What if she hurt Lamia by showing her what was left of her memories of Galatea?

Luckily, she didn’t need to look for an excuse. The owner of the store caught everyone’s attention with a cheerful introduction and Lamia went back to her place, not after gently squeezing Nat’s hand. She would wait until she was ready.

It turned out that the pottery lesson wasn’t extremely complicated. Nat worked with ease in creating gradually longer cylinders of clay and then piled them up until she got a decent sized bowl. She then blended them together with a tool shaped like a half moon until all sides were only slightly uneven. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but Nat was surprised her hands remembered working on clay. When she turned to Lamia, she found a very different picture.

Lamia was frowning at her clay. It kept breaking over and over again and she tried to fix it by pressing her fingers along the surface. Her white top had muddy stains around the wrists.

“It hates me,” Lamia whined, after a crack formed again from the edge and the top crumbled from its own weight.

“It doesn’t hate you,” replied Nat; she brought her chair closer to Lamia��s and grabbed a small piece of clay, “you have to touch it just the right amount. Let me show you.”

She guided Lamia’s hands to roll smoother cylinders, lightly pressing the clay to shape it, taking just a drop of water so it didn’t dry too quickly. With Nat’s help, she managed to piece together a small acceptable vase. Her face lit up with pride and she watched delighted as the teacher put her creation in the oven.

Lamia looked chippier throughout the next step. She mixed the powder, water and alcohol to get the most vibrant colours. Green, blue, orange… They were already stunning in her palette. The hour went by all too quickly for Nat, who wasn’t so sure about her own design. As much as she tried to copy Lamia’s process, she was too distracted by her focused expression. The tiniest wrinkles had appeared between her eyebrows and she could see the shadow of a smile on her pursed lips. She worked efficiently, with no time to spare for doubt. It was mesmerising. When the pieces were out of the oven and were finally cooling down for paint, she had managed to draw and cut a beautiful design imitating a fantastic mosaic. She laid her handmade stencil over the curved surface.

“I think we make a great team,” said Nat.

“Of course we do,” answered Lamia, without looking up, “how is your bowl going?”

Nat looked back at her own piece. She had placed some small flowers and birds which didn’t look too bad, but hadn’t really been thinking about it.

“Aw, it’s cute,” Lamia cooed at the shy strokes of her brush to which Nat laughed.

“I wasn’t paying too much attention to it. Yours is more interesting.”

“Do you like it?” asked Lamia, excited, “my cousins and I used to do mosaics at school, you know, with colourful paper. It was fun.”

“You look like you are having fun.”

“Absolutely. Much better than shaping clay.”

“Agree to disagree,” smiled Nat and went back to her work.

Nat was satisfied with her work when she put her brush down. She had missed getting her hands dirty and she was pretty sure Farah would be ecstatic to learn about that class.

“I expected it to be more like Ghost, but this isn't too bad,” admitted Lamia, observing her lines from a close distance.

“Ghost?”

“Yeah, the movie. You haven’t seen it?” She looked horrified when Nat shook her head. “We are watching it tonight. You need to watch Ghost.”

“If you say so,” conceded Nat, who knew when a battle was lost, “but we won’t be able to watch it if you look at your vase so closely.”

“I think I moved the stencil at some point. Look! These lines don’t make any sense.”

Nat took Lamia’s hand, which got her attention back.

“It looks beautiful. We need to let it dry now.”

“Again? Can’t we take it home now?”

“I don’t think your sweater can take more of this class,” Nat chuckled and rubbed the fabric between her fingers.

They left the store after thanking their teacher to slowly walk towards Lamia’s apartment. The night was a bit too hot for that time of year, but perfect for a calm stroll. Lamia was unusually quiet, until her home started to take form between the buildings.

“What happened seven years ago?” she hesitantly asked.

Nat took a moment to consider her next words and Lamia patiently waited for her, intertwining their fingers.

“I met a woman.”

“Ah,” Lamia sighed, “that’s how most of my stories start too.”

They both laughed, aware that the joke was just a way to tell Nat how impatient she was.

“It’s a complicated, long story.”

“I have time,” Lamia tried to reassure her with a smile.

Breathing deeply, Nat continued.

“You remind me of her.”

“How come?”

“It was just a moment, the first time we met.”

“So I look like her?”

Nat looked on her face any shadow of hurt, but there was none.

“Not anymore. You two are too different for any physical resemblance to matter.”

“So what happened?”

“She left. It was the right thing to do,” she added quickly when she saw Lamia's surprise, “I can see that now.”

“But it wasn’t easy back then.”

“It rarely is,” admitted Nat. Even after so many years, she still felt the weight of melancholy thinking about those few months.

Lamia quieted down again for a few minutes, mulling over the small blinks of her past. When she spoke again, she did it in a soft voice, calmly, as if she was prudently choosing her words.

“I know you don’t want to or you don’t like talking about your past and it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me why. But I want you to know that I understand that you had a life before me. A very long life. I won’t hold anything against you.”

Nat sighed, unable to answer like she wanted or how Lamia deserved.

“There is… a bust in the warehouse. One of the last I made of her. I’ll show you some day.”

Lamia stopped and pulled Nat’s hand to bring her closer. She cupped her face with her hands before giving her a short, tender kiss.

“Thank you. Now, let’s go. We have a movie to watch.”

The next day, after picking up her work at the workshop, they headed to the warehouse. Nat let Lamia enter first in the dark room, where most of their belongings from other missions were carefully stored. The bust was unceremoniously balanced between other small souvenirs.

“She was beautiful,” whispered Lamia. She reached to caress the cold cheek of the one who looked exactly like her, and still so different.

“She was.”

Lamia tore her eyes from the bust to look worryingly at Nat.

"Do you know anything about her?"

"Not in a long time."

Lamia nodded. After a hesitant instant, she took the bust in her hands.

"She deserves to be seen."

She held it against her chest, making sure it was safe and gestured for Nat to open the door again. Lamia walked in front of her, and took them to the library. Nat opened the door again for her and watched Lamia place the bust on the shelf in the middle of the room, right at the level of their eyes. The sunlight hit its cheeks almost bringing it to life.

"I'll buy some flowers and we'll put my vase here," said Lamia, pointing next to the statue.

Nat stood next to Lamia in silence. Looking at that face she knew so well didn't cause as much pain as she thought it would. Lamia leaned against the shelf, and lightly kissed the statue's forehead.

"I hope she is okay."

Nat stepped hesitantly towards the bust and repeated the gesture. The dried clay remained cold under her lips and she smiled against the stone.

"I'm sure she is."

#trying to get back to creative work #please excuse how rusty i am it took forever to remember how to use words #sara writes #lamia x nat #twc n #lamia ezzatri #my characters #natalie sewell or the modern pygmalion #ockiss23

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ghostfvcker · 11 months

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oc tag game!

I was tagged by @shellibisshe to do this!! I'm tagging @lesbian-croft @fizziefizzco (i think everyone else has been tagged?)

thank you for tagging me!!

favorite oc:

zirse of loudwater

as much as I wanted to put any other brain baby, Zirse is top of the chain. She's so interesting and multifaceted while maintaining that up-and-coming folk hero vibe. She's so genuine, and so kind, she's everything I've ever wanted to exemplify. Her struggles are so tangible. Everything hinges on her giving everything she has.

newest oc:

technically, quinn isn't even my newest oc. she's the one who is a) newest b) has a faceclaim c) has a name. in the time between when I made quinn in late april and now i have been working on a brand new silent hill oc, but still don't know what to do with her yet. so! quinn goes here lol

quinn crawford

oldest oc:

okay. story time. Cali has yet to have a spot on my oc page. I haven't mentioned her. AT ALL.

no header here

cali scott

Cali is my FIRST creepypasta oc. She was created in... literally i think it was like fall of 2012, when i was in the seventh grade and first got into creepypasta. I have tried many times to retire her, simply because very few things that are created by eleven year olds stand up to the test of time.... but she remains. She was created as a self-insert who was just a rough around the edges tomboy turned into a vigilante, preying on predators, who just... developed an addiction to human blood. She was a very chill, balanced character in the creepypasta mansion where everyone was off-the-walls high-octane insane but still able to keep up with them, that she is just a requirement to that setting. she evens everything out.

meanest oc:

kseniya ignatyeva

so it dawned on me that I don't make mean ocs without reason-- many of my ocs are nice, even if they're sociopathic, or are cruel but choose to be kind. Kseniya is a sharp edge in contrast to all of that. She can choose to be kind, she will sometimes try, but she is super untrusting and ruthless when she has to be. As a bioweapon, she's literally a killing machine.

softest oc:

nickey d'angelo

this poor bby. she just wants to hang out and protect her friends. :,)

most standoffish oc:

caeneth clay

she is. so hard to get close to. She keeps people at arms length always.

dumbest oc:

quinn crawford

look. she is a himbo. that's her thing. she's not exactly the smartest in regards to her powers and is constantly like. getting herself in trouble for being beast'd out for days afterwards. she's foolish

smartest oc:

tasya van olso

tasya is very sharp. she's quick-witted and learns things easily, especially through lectures. she's literally exploring and expanding her understanding of reality through her pact. intelligence is like, her second or third highest stat for a reason.

oc you'd be friends with irl:

willow weyland

willow is so human to me. many of my ocs are just, self inserts or facets of myself but willow's experiences are so real, and human. as im writing her story again, for the third time, this time in her own world in a space where she can breathe, she's just. ugh. my brain baby loml

#tag game #oc: zirse of loudwater #oc: quinn crawford #oc: cali scott #oc: kseniya ignatyeva #oc: nickey d'angelo #oc: willow weyland #oc: tasya giffard van olso

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dumbangrypuppet · 6 months

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I need to build more on Kake. Like. Yeah I have his backstory kinda vaguely done, and sorta how he acts, but I wanna go deeper.

I have vague ideas for each of the things i'm listing and I'll get into those later but for now I'm listing them

I need to figure out what sort of job he'd have. Where does he live. What does the house look like. Does he "work from home" in a sort of way like Simon? How did they meet?

Well. Here's my thoughts:

For a job...?

Kake is an artist. Ranging from Ceramics, to canvas, just about anything. Like. He's a strange little man whose only memories the past thousand years were dreams, and now he's been awake for 12 years, maybe he'd make some amazing or unsettling art. Plus he has six arms, you cannot tell me that wouldn't be useful for painting or sculpting. I can't count the amount of times I'd be in the middle of sculpting something and wishing I had more hands. Or trying to paint something and wishing the same thing.

I feel like he'd like more hands on work. And the relaxing kind. He could sit for hours and just sculpt. He loves it. If you tried to take him to do something that requires more heavy lifting or physical work, he'd probably get exhausted quickly. He works at a desk or sitting most of the time, he doesn't do a lot of cardio.

Where he lives/what does his house look like/does he work from home...?

Well. Sorta. Yeah.

I've always kind of liked to design buildings in my head, but if I try to put it on paper it doesn't look right. I like to think he'd have a large house. One he lives in alone, but is filled with paintings and art he's made over the years, and he does have spare rooms for people to stay in if they want to come over, he just... doesn't have many friends. (Literally only knows Finn and Simon. Finn is always adventuring, and he's too shy to ask Simon if he wants to hang out because he thinks he'd bother him)

I think Kake would live in some sort of building that doubles as his house and his studio. It's always clean, despite having art projects all over. He thinks he's too messy, really it's all just clutter. He struggles with trying to get his art pieces sold (specifically ones he just does on a whim). Not because they don't look good, but because sometimes the feelings he had when painting them are so personal, and it feels like he would lose a piece of himself if it was gone. Hes already lost so much of himself and who he used to be, what if it happens again?

(I'm pretty sure he would figure out during his 12 years of consciousness that his "memories" were actually just dreams and he didn't know any of the people he was talking about. That they probably weren't even real in the first place. Could you imagine how sad that is?? To realize that every memory you had wasn't real? Just dreams you had while asleep for 1000 years, and you have no idea who you used to be?? Anyway.)

This one's a bit off topic from the thought it's for, but I feel like Kake's hands would be super soft. This is because he does take good care of himself, and when working with clay, your hands will dry out if you don't take care of them after. Lots of lotion. He hates when his hands feel rough, they easily catch on certain fabrics and such. (Kake is autistic because I'm autistic and I can't make a neurotypical OC even if I wanted to) so thus, Kake would have a variety of lotions kept in the bathroom, they all smell nice. He likes nice smells.

Any furniture or carpet or blankets and clothes he has are sensory friendly. If you have a specific fabric that makes your skin itch when you touch it, you'll never find it at Kake's. Because again, since his house doubles as his studio, the whole thing is about being able to focus more on your work and interests when you're in a safe and comfortable environment.

That being said, there have been times where he accidentally spills paint on his favorite fuzzy slippers and he cries about it.

How did they meet?

I feel like Finn accidentally came across Kake on an adventure. I mean. Like. Kake was sleeping in a cave for 1000 years dude. Probably didn't look so good. Finn probably helped Kake adjust to society for the most part. The people didn't surprise him at all and neither did the world. (Again, Kake has been dreaming for 1000 years. Probably thought of some weird stuff) first couple years into consciousness, Kake would drink at the candy tavern, and mourn his "lost love" (Morgause from the tales of King Arthur.)

Here's where we go into the first meeting between him and Simon.

Simon is initially interested in Kake because "woah, a dude from before even my time? I wonder what he knows about!" Cause he's a nerdy antiquarian. They drink together and converse, and Simon pieces together that Kake might be a little crazy, or just drunk. Because Kake spews nonsense that has nothing to do with history, it sounds like a dream.

They start as acquaintances from there, then eventually make it to friendship. Through the years, Simon helps Kake realize "oh shit, my life as I knew it's not real? Well, I'm not gonna cry about it, I'm gonna make art instead!" (And then proceeds to channel every single sad feeling and thought into his art)

Since we don't really get any idea where Simon's GOLB idol comes from, and assuming how it breaks in the intro and the show, my brain wants me to think it's ceramic. And with that thought!!! I'm taking!!! Creative liberties!! For my own selfish gains!!

I think Simon commissioned Kake to make him the GOLB idol. (Kake would have done it for free he's gay, but Simon insisted he pay Kake for his time)

Anyway!!! Here's all my thoughts for now!!

This little bug man and the sad little antiquarian are helping me through my struggles.

#adventure time oc #adventure time #fionna and cake #cake the cat #fionna campbell #fionna the human #simon petrikov #simon petrikov x oc

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charminggirl512 · 2 years

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boom // chibs telford x oc

Chibs Telford x F!OC (Ellie Drysdale/Telford)

Warnings: 18+, violence, language, pregnancy, mentions of sex, heavy conversation

Word Count: 4,469

A/N: This one's pretty lengthy and dramatic, so buckle in.

It was really a normal day. Gemma has been acting odd recently, but I was doing my best to just ignore it for now until it became a bigger issue. She had become a stand-in mother for me and a stand-in grandmother for my son, and hopefully for our little one on the way. We work together every day I'm not at Cara Cara doing work there and she had still yet to tell me anything. Even now, she's not communicating with me and instead is whispering to Clay.

Rolling my eyes, I stand up to try and ask Chibs when we can head home when I see him getting in a van that had been dropped off earlier so that it can be worked on. I watch as he turns the key and I know then that something is wrong. I can just barely hear a high-pitched squeal followed by a series of beeps and I know. I know what it is and what I'm about to see and it still doesn't prepare me for the sight of my husband and the father of my children flying through the air as flames burst up around him.

I run at him, not caring about anything except stopping his head from slamming into the hard concrete. Opie grabs me from behind, careful to not put any pressure on my stomach, and I fight him, just wanting to see the life behind Chibs' eyes.

"Get the fuck off me! Filip, please, please. Filip," I scream as everyone else starts to rush towards him while Opie keeps fighting me to keep me where I am. I finally manage to break free from Opie's arms and run to Chibs, dropping to the ground next to him. I can't contain my sobs at the sight of a pool of blood surrounding his head.

Suddenly, I'm eight again. Mum was taking me to get chocolate from the candy shop around the corner for getting good grades at school. I had run ahead in my excitement and I looked back at her, a smile on my face that reflected her own. Then, the worst thing that could possibly happen to a child happens to me; I watch as the car next to my mother explodes and her body flies through the air, just like Chibs. She landed and everything felt eerily silent as everyone around us stood and watched. By the time I got the courage to walk over to her, strangers had surrounded her body and were trying to figure out what to do, but it was too late. She was dead as soon as she slammed her head against the ground and a piece of shrapnel embedded in her stomach.

I'm brought back to the moment at the sound of Jax yelling for Tara. As she runs over, I lean down close to Chibs' ear and begin whispering to him, hoping and praying that he can hear even just a word that I've said.

"Don't leave us. Please, Filip, I need you. I can't do this without you. I love you. Come back to me, please, come back to me. I'm not losing you like I lost her. I won't survive it."

"Ellie, sweetheart, you've gotta move. You've gotta move so that Tara can help him," Gemma tells me gently as she tries to pull me away.

"I can't leave him. He'll die if I leave him," I yell at her, but she doesn't listen, just keeps trying to pull me away. "Please, let me just stay here with him."

She looks over at Opie and nods, signaling for him to pick me up and drag me away from my bleeding husband. I scream at him and pummel his chest, though it doesn't seem to phase him. He tries to carry me into the clubhouse, which just makes me even angrier.

"I will never fucking forgive you for this, Opie. Why would you do this to me? Why, why, why" I repeat over and over again. He runs his hand over my hair in an attempt to soothe me as I cry into his chest.

"If he dies, Ellie, I'm not going to sit there and let you watch it happen. Not like your mom. Not like how I saw Donna."

We sit in the silence of the clubhouse, just me and him until the sound of the ambulance getting here cuts through the air. I've calmed down a little and I walk out of the clubhouse to see them loading Chibs onto a stretcher, a swarm of EMTs surrounding him. They try to stop me from getting into the ambulance with them, but Tara explains who I am and they allow me in.

For the next couple of hours, everything seems to blur. They haven't allowed me to see him, so I've been stuck pacing around the waiting room. Gemma and Opie are there with me and continually try to get me to sit down or drink some water, but all I can think about is what I saw. I keep running my hand across my stomach, thinking about our little one that may never know how incredible his father is. I'm so distracted that I completely forgot that Killian was at daycare and that he needed to be picked up. Gemma offers to get him, leaving just Opie and me in the waiting room.

"Ellie, come sit."

"No."

"Ellie, come drink some water."

"No."

"Is that the only word you know now? Did you also hit your head?" He shuts up after I smack across the back of the head for that and continue my pacing.

I look up in anticipation when I hear the sound of doors opening, but it's just Jax coming in. He comes over to me and wraps his arms around me, kissing the top of my head as I wrap my arms around him.

"Any news yet," He asks gently. I shake my head and he lets out a deep sigh. "Come sit and drink some water. Don't want to dehydrate the little one."

I follow him to the chairs and when he hands me a bottle of water and I take a sip, Opie scoffs but quickly looks away from me when I turn to glare at him. The three of us sit in silence for another twenty minutes before Tara finally comes out.

"Is he okay? Can I go and see him? Please tell me that I can come and see him," I ask her rapidly as I run over to her. She grips both of my arms and rubs up and down before answering me.

"He's in critical condition. There were a couple of close calls, but he seems to be leveling out a little more now. You can go and see him, but only you for now. I can take you back now if you want." I take a deep breath at her words before eagerly agreeing to go and see him. I try to walk through the doors but Jax stops me.

"Ellie, you need to take this water with you and you need to rest," He orders, though he seems to second guess it when I cock one eyebrow up at him.

"I'm not one of your brothers, Jackson Teller. I'll drink water if I want to drink some damn water, but I'm sure as fuck not going to do it just because you told me to." He rolls his eyes but hands me a bottle of water before kissing my cheek, and Opie does the same before Tara leads me down the hallway to Chibs' room, staying in the hallway once we get there.

The sight of him lying up in the bed with gauze wrapped around his head makes me want to crumple to the floor. This is the only time that I have ever seen my husband look weak and it breaks my heart. He has gotten me through so much and protected me despite the danger that it puts him in. I press my lips on his shut eyelids before pressing them against his scars because it soothes him, just him kissing my scars soothes me. I pull the chair as close to the edge of the bed as I can before wrapping both of my hands around one of his, kissing our joined hands three times, just like he always does.

"Hi, baby," I say quietly to him despite not knowing whether or not he can hear me. "You really scared me, Filip. Don't do it again, okay? We've just gotta make it through the night and you'll be okay. You have to be okay."

I continue to talk to him quietly until I fall asleep with my head resting on his bed. I wake up a couple of times throughout the night when the nurses come in to check on him, but other than that nobody disturbs us. I fully wake up when I feel a rough hand running over my hair, and I open my eyes to find Chibs just barely awake. Just seeing his open eyes sends me into a fit of tears.

"Little lamb, why are you crying?"

"Don't call me that right now," I say through my tears. "I can't be mad at you if you call me that and I should be angry with you for being an idiot and almost getting yourself blown up."

"How was I supposed to know that there was a bomb in that car," He asks, obviously in disbelief that I would blame him for this.

"We came here from bloody Ireland, Filip! You always inspect a car before you get in. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I married a fucking idiot," I mumble to myself which makes him laugh, and my anger releases at the sound.

"I'll do well to remind you of that, lass, the next time that you get into your car or on your bike without properly inspecting it," He replies. Cheeky bastard. "Now, climb up here and let me hold my woman."

I probably should tell him that it's a bad idea, but I would die to be wrapped in his arms right now so I eagerly climb into the bed next to him. I try to be gentle with him as I lay my head on his chest with my arms around his waist. I finally feel peace for the first time in sixteen hours and I soak it up while I still can. Eventually, someone will come in here with news that will break our bubble of peace but for now, I'll just soak it all up.

"Love you, lamb," He whispers in my ear.

"Love you more, mo chride," I answer. I rarely speak in Gaelic anymore and I usually only use it for pet names for Chibs or Declan.

Our little bubble is popped by Jax and Clay entering the room, closely followed by Bobby and Tig. I try to hide my agitation at their presence, but it's pretty difficult to do while being so emotionally and physically exhausted.

"There's our Chibby boy! Just about died and already getting pussy," Tig yells loudly as he enters.

"Tig, it's not pussy if he's married to me, you fucking idiot," I snap at him, but it seems to go right over his head.

"Glad you're alive, brother," Jax says as he ignores what Tig said and sits in the chair that I slept in all night, making himself right at home like always.

"It was Zobelle. We're trying to make a plan on what we want to do next, brother, but we're going to make sure that he hurts for what he did," Clays says, getting straight to business like always.

"I trust you all to handle it," Chibs answers.

His complete faith in his brothers never failed to fill me with even more love for him and them. If he didn't have faith in them the way that he does, I don't know if I would be able to trust them to protect us when Jimmy inevitably destroys the life that we've built here. Without their protection, I would have spent the past six years constantly looking over my shoulder and not allowing myself to actually live. I wouldn't have been able to properly love Chibs the way he deserves and I definitely would not have been able to allow myself to have children without knowing that they would never let anything happen to them.

This is what I keep in mind as I spend the next couple of days going back and forth between TM and the hospital, stopping in between to spend time with Killian and taking him to see his Da, which he loves. I take him one morning before I drop him off at daycare so that I can work with Gemma in the office at TM so that I won't feel quite as restless. Killian is sitting in his Da's lap, babbling about who-knows-what, when the door to Chibs' room opens and my heart stops.

I had only seen pictures of Fiona, but I had seen enough of them to know that's who was standing in front of us. Not only is she my husband's ex-wife, but she is also the wife of the man who has been actively trying to kill me since I was an eighteen-year-old girl in Belfast just trying to survive after her father's death. Where Fiona goes, Jimmy is two steps behind and Chibs and I both know that.

"Good morning," She says, smiling despite the fact that she knows who I am and knows what I mean to Jimmy. She looks me up and down, her eyes stopping on my barely visible bump under a SAMCRO sweatshirt before she makes eye contact with me. She looks over at Killian and then at Chibs and seems to connect the dots, a slight look of anger and confusion covering her face. It's that look that makes me grab Killian off of Chibs' lap and hold him close to me.

"What are you doing here," Chibs asks wearily.

"We heard you got hurt, so we came to check on you. Kerrianne sends her love," Fiona replies as she settles herself in the chair next to the bed. Her use of 'we' instead of 'I' terrifies me and her smirk indicates that she knows that it does.

"Well, I'll let you two catch up," I say as I plaster a fake smile across my face and make my way toward the door.

"Nice to see you, Eleanor," Fiona says and I exit without turning back around. Once I'm a couple of doors down, I frantically pull out my phone and call Jax.

"Hey, darlin'. What's up," He answers and I can hear the sound of laughter in the background, telling me that he's probably at the clubhouse.

"Jax, I don't know what to do. Fuck, I don't know what to do. We made a plan and I still don't know what to do," I ramble as I quicken my pace, just trying to get out of the hospital and into my car.

"Slow down, Ellie. What happened? Whatever it was, we can fix it."

"She's here, which means that he's here. Fuck, Jax. Fuck, fuck, fuck," I whimper into the phone. I finally reach my car and rushedly buckle Killian in. Once he's settled in, I jump into the driver's seat and speed out of the parking lot.

"Who's here? Ellie, what the fuck is going on? Tell me what happened," He says, beginning to lose to laughter in his voice.

"Fiona is with Chibs, which means that Jimmy is in Charming. I had to get out of there, I had Killian and I didn't know if he was in the building with her or somewhere else, but I can't let him see Killian. I messed up, Jax." Panic seeps into my voice more and more as I speak and I don't know how to stop it. I'm heading towards the clubhouse because I don't think that there's anywhere else that is safe for me right now.

"Come to the clubhouse now. We'll go into lockdown and then we'll go from there. Do not hang up the phone."

In the six years that I have lived here, we have somehow managed to never have Jimmy come here. The Irish come often, but we always make sure that I'm nowhere near the club when they're here, usually sending me up to the cabin to stay with Piney. Now, the moment when Chibs is his weakest, he's decided to make a visit. He knows what that vulnerability will mean for his chances of reaching me. There are very few times when I am without Chibs or at least another club member that is willing and ready to lay down their life for me. Now I'm pregnant and alone with my one-year-old who doesn't even know how to walk.

My hands shake as I turn into the parking lot of TM and prospects close the gates behind me. Everyone is standing outside of the clubhouse waiting for me and they're quick to usher Killian and me out of the car. The second that we've cleared the doorway and I know that Gemma has my son, I lean over the closest trashcan and puke my guts out. Jax holds my hair out of the way as I continually empty my stomach out of anxiety.

"I left him there alone. I don't know what I was thinking," I finally manage to say with my head still hanging in the trashcan. Jax rubs up and down my back with his hand that's not holding my hair back to try and calm me down.

"We had Half-Sack watching the two of you and he's still there watching out for Chibs. It's good that you got out of there, Ellie. Fiona won't do anything to Chibs, but we don't know if the same is true for you," He reassures me.

"It doesn't matter what Fiona would do or not do to me. She knows that I'm here, what I mean to Chibs, and that we're both weak right now. There's no way that she won't share that information with Jimmy and he'll destroy me and everyone that I've ever known," I say, getting more agitated as I stand back up to look at him. "I walk around every day with the reminder of what he did to me and every morning I look at my husband and see what he did to him. That was only a fraction of his anger, and that was before I hid from him for six years."

"We're not going to let him touch you or Chibs or anyone else in the club. We can handle this, Ellie, and I don't know why you don't understand that," Jax yells at me, starting to get in my face. This is the only time that he has ever raised his voice at me and I know that it's just because he's stressed about everything that's happened in the past couple of days but it's hard not to get pissed off at him for it.

"I'm sorry if I don't believe that you are all infallible, Jax, but my life and the lives of my family are on the line. I can't put all of my faith in you the way that Chibs does and I'm going to ask you not to make me."

He looks at me in disbelief before walking into the Chapel and slamming the door closed behind him. I don't know how he can ask so much of me when he's having his own doubts about the club. I look over at Opie for some sort of help and he seems just as surprised as I am.

"Sweetheart, we need to get you out of here. This will probably be one of the first places he checks," Gemma says as she comes up behind me, wrapping her arm that's not holding Killian around my shoulders.

"We'll take you up to the cabin and leave Opie and Juice up there with you. You'll need to stay there until we can confirm that Jimmy has gone back to Ireland. We'll get you a burner so that you can talk to Chibs, but you can't talk to anyone outside of the club. That's the only way to truly keep your location safe," Clays says from his seat at the bar. He seems almost bored as he issues marching orders and everyone starts moving.

"I'll go to your house and pack up a couple of things for the two of you. I'll be back and then drive you up there," Gemma assures me as she hands me Killian so that she can leave.

As everyone else is talking and preparing the convoy to take me up there, I sneak over to the Chapel room and knock gently before walking in. Jax sits there, a lit cigarette in his hand and his head between his hands on the table. When he looks up and sees me there with Killian, he puts out his cigarette smoke so that neither of us is inhaling it. I pull out the seat next to him and sit down with Killian on my lap. I slide my hand onto his shoulder and squeeze it before just resting my hand there.

"I love you, Jax, you know that. You helped give me a home when I had nothing and you've always protected my family," I tell him as he continues to stare at the table. "But, I'm scared. I'm more scared than when I ran away from him because it's not just me anymore. I care about too many people and the thought of me being the reason that they're hurt or killed is nauseating. Jimmy's sick obsession with me will only end with one of us dead, and I'm terrified that it'll be me."

"I won't let him touch you, Ellie," Jax asserts. The tenseness in his voice is there in his shoulders too and I just want to push the pain away for him.

"You can promise me that all you want, Jax, but it's hard to put all of my trust in that. Chibs is the love of my life - he's it for me and there are some days when he promises the same and I can't believe him. I need you to trust me as much as you need me to trust you and let my judgment carry some weight. They're sending us up to the cabin and I want you to come up with us." He nods and proceeds to sit there in silence. I kiss the top of his head and stand up to leave when he grabs my hand.

"Love you too, Els," He quietly says before letting go of my hand to let me leave.

Once I'm back in the storm of people, I'm whisked into Gemma's car where she's waiting for me with our bags packed into the trunk. I've just finished buckling Killian into his car seat when Jax comes out of the clubhouse, stopping to kiss Gemma's cheek. He turns to me, nods once, and climbs onto his bike where the rest of the club is. I'm about to climb into the passenger seat when Opie brings me a burner phone. As soon as we're on the road, I type in Chibs' number that I've memorized every time he's gotten a new burner just in case I ever need it.

"Hello," He answers snappily, obviously not knowing it was me.

"Hey, baby. It's me."

"Oh, lamb, I'm so sorry. I don't know how she found out that I was hurt, but I'll track the fucker down and kill him. Are you okay? Are you safe? Have you talked to the club? Where are they gonna take you and my little lad?" He always asks a million questions without ever giving me the opportunity to answer.

"We're on the way up to the cabin now. Jax and I got into a little bit, but they're gonna leave Juice and Opie up there with us until Jimmy is back in Belfast. I don't know where to go from here, Filip. I can't just leave our life at the drop of a hat whenever he comes here. It won't be fair to the kids and it's not fair to you and me."

"I'm gonna handle it, darling, I promise you-"

"You said you were going to handle it before we got engaged. Then before we got married. Then before Killian was born. Then before Killian turned one. Well, we're married, Killian is one, and I'm three months pregnant with our next child. Either you handle it now, Filip, or I handle it but we're not going to live like this anymore. I'm not going to live my life with his existence looming over me every day. It will kill me, Chibs. It will tear away at me until I'm a shell of the woman you fell in love with and I can't do that to you."

He's so quiet that I worry that the call has dropped. A tear rolls down my cheek and I rush to wipe it away before Gemma sees it. Right as I'm about to say something to break the silence, he sighs.

"Why didn't you tell me what this was doing to you, baby?"

"God, Filip, because there's always something in the way. Something with another club or someone's in jail or a deal goes wrong. I love the club and I love your love for the club, baby, but it's gonna kill me. It's gonna kill us if we don't do something now to end this cycle of suffering," I reply while a piece of my heart breaks. My words will cut deeper into him than anything else ever will and I hate that I'm doing this to him but I also know that I can't lose him or myself to this when we both don't deserve that.

"I'll kill him while he's in the States. If he leaves before they discharge me from this goddamn hospital, I'll go to Belfast and I'll kill him. He'll be dead and you'll be free from his burden. I'm gonna love the fuck out of you, Eleanor, and we're gonna be happy and you're gonna be safe. I hate myself for not seeing what this was doing to you earlier, but that's my burden. All I need you to do is listen to the club, keep yourself and our boys safe, and let me handle this," He proclaims as though it's the simplest thing in the world.

"I still don't think we're having another boy," I reply and his laughter eases the tension of our heavy conversation.

"Well, I think we are and if we're not, I'll just have to keep getting you pregnant until we do."

"Promise?"

"Always."

#chibs telford #soa #sons of anarchy #jaxteller #jax #filip telford #fanfiction #chibs fanfiction #chibs #opie winston #gemma teller #tommy flanagan #juice ortiz #donna winston

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youhavehitawall · 1 year

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So I just wandered in off of the rest of tumblr (I saw a picture of a Cars-universe road train, and that got all my attention right away). What is this "Backwater Downs" thing?

anon i think you are my New Favourite Tumblr Person , so welcome! there is no way to explain this shortly so please settle in. (and excuse how long it took me to answer, i tried to pare this down as much as i could and failed)

Backwater Downs is one of several "expansion packs" to canon that i've been developing. It runs concurrent with the movies and also with "The Carbecue AU" (Carbecue focuses on expanding canon characters, while the Downs is for OCs) It takes place in one of the remote opal-mining communities, vaguely inspired by the Grawin opal fields near Lightning Ridge. BWD is significantly more remote, though, and relies almost entirely on a road train for their living resources! Aggie, or Augustus, is the road train in question. She’s a Kenworth C510, and she spent many years hauling hundreds of tonnes out of large pit mines further north, before “retiring” to the lighter work of transporting livestock and living goods through the outback. She’s found a home in Backwater Downs specifically, and often chooses to stay there in the wet season instead of returning to dock in Alice Springs. Her nickname “Aggie” refers to the machine used to separate opals from dirt and clay, which is what she does during her downtime there! She’s mostly very quiet, but she has a razor sharp wit and she uses her time on the road to study. She probably has like seventy university degrees now. The Downs has less than fifty cars in the region, most of which I've developed, but there are three guys i talk about constantly:

Regiment 'Reg' Blitzborough, a rusted out semi/racing coupe cross who grew up in the military with his father. Reg is intelligent and passionate, and the town appreciates his jack-of-all-trade work, even if he’s stubborn and annoyingly overbearing as well. He’s partially deaf from his service, and he has chronic pain from the mixup of heavy truck gear and lighter racer parts being incompatible. He also smells like diesel and old swampy water, and keeps a pleco in his cabin to keep the algae down. (he refills his cabin every year. Because he’s also stark barking mad.) His father Michael briefly retired in BWD when Reg was a bitlet, but has since passed. Michael had the disposition of a brick wall and the only thing he ever loved was his son. Reg has a small convoy of trucks that helped raise him and that he considers parental figures, but he’s withdrawn from them all since Michael’s death. He also has two siblings and two nephews, which he only found out very recently. "Ratchet" is a ‘58 Plymouth Fury with a Cadillac DeVille cross, and used to play both sides of the Law before being gravely injured in a high-speed chase. The resulting damage gives him some mobility issues and has rendered him mute, so he communicates in a bird-whistle version of Morse code, and a fairly vague version of sign language (cars do not have hands you see). He’s ironically verbose and has an excellent eye for detail, but often misses social cues and so comes off as bitchy or aggressive. He’s been accused of “maladaptive behavioural tendencies” and “post-traumatic stress disorder” but he’s not quite ready to accept that damage yet. He can have trouble distinguishing reality. Most days, he works for Leo Curbjumper in the “Club in the Scrub” (a real place!) as a waitress. He’s won most attractive BWD resident every year since first arriving, and has all the locals under his tires. He also has four brightly-coloured siblings that swore to kill him on sight if he ever set a tread in America again, and several nieces he's never had the chance to meet. "Austin" is a ‘51 Hudson Hornet and the official Health and Safety Manager for BWD. He lets Reg do most of his work, instead focusing on his massive archival project of pretty much everything to ever exist. He specialises in personal records - war diaries, stories told around the campfire, anything and everything. He’s a fantastic liar and good at keeping his mouth shut. Austin believes in the Story, and in Names, and things like the Soul. He has a very thick southern Minnesota accent, mixed with the dozen other places he’s lived. He’s quiet but competitive, cheerful, and infuriatingly stubborn, and his favourite animal is the turbo-chicken. He used to be part of Ratchet's family but the whole murder thing applies to him too. He can play the drums!

I'm going to stop myself here because otherwise it'll never end but thats the basics!!! (also sorry it took four months to answer, in my defense i thought it was only three weeks)

#hogsart #food for thought #genuinely this ask means so much to me u dont understand anon #backwater downs

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aaronscalesonmain · 1 year

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Welcome Home OC scripts 3

Playfellow Workshop #1526 -Subject: Ears song -Cut in from previous segment- The camera cuts to Snock and Tyson who are together in Tyson's front yard. Snock smiles and motions towards Tyson with his sock puppet hand. Snock Alright neighborsss, we're gonna sssing a sssong for you~ If you would, Maessstro... Tyson Uh, wait, me? Was I supposed to bring an instrument? Snock Hehe, no. We're jussst going to... play it by EAR [song starts playing] Snock slips up behind Tyson and suddenly grabs onto both of his eyes with the mouths of his snek puppets, stretching them like clay until they are long and floppy Snock Do your earsss hang low? (Tyson gasps in shock, but Snock grabs his shoulders and shakes them, making his head and long floppy ears wiggle about) Do they wobble to and fro? (Snock grabs Tyson's stretched ear lobes and in a flurry of hand motions, ties them into a knot under his chin) Can you tie 'em in a knot? (Snock does another quick hand motions, but this time his long noodle arms get stuck as he's tied them into a big looped bow over the top of Tyson's head) Can you tie 'em in a bow? (Snock grunts and struggles to pull his arms free) Can you throw 'em over your ssshoulder (He puts his foot up on Tyson's shoulder and yanks hard, pulling his arms free and undoing the knots he tied, allowing tyson's long ears to flop free as Snock falls offscreen) Like a continental sssoldier (Snock pops back up and pulls on Tyson's ears again, causing them to snap back up into shape like cartoon window blinds) Do your earsss hang low? Tyson O-Ok... that's enough now, right? Snock smirks as he grabs Tyson's ears again, this time stretching up the top into really tall pointy elf ears Snock Do your earsss ssstand high? (Tyson grunts in annoyance and shakes his head, looking back at Snock) Do they reach up to the sssky? (As Tyson looks back, Snock throws a bucket of water at him, making his long ears droop) Do they droop when they are wet? (Snock suddenly pulls out a hair dryer from nowhere and blows a strong gust of hot air at Tyson, drying him off and making his long ears stick up again) Do they ssstiffen when they're dry? (Snock turns Tyson over towards Howdy's shop, the bug man gasping and dropping the bag of groceries he was about to hand Poppy out the window, she squawks at her spilled bag.) Can you sssummon up your neighbor (Snock turns Tyson the other way, towards Frank's house. Eddie was making his rounds, and the shock of seeing Tyson's long ears makes him trip and stumble over Frank like a meetcute) With a minimum of labor? (We return to Tyson's front yard as Snock yanks his ears back to normal) Do your earsss ssstand high?

(Tyson tries to cover his ears with his hands, but Snock just puts his arms through Tyson's elbows and uses his long noodly arms to imitate his long floppy ears) Do your earsss flip-flop? (Snock grabs one arm with the other and pretends to mop the floor in front of Tyson) Can you ussse them asss a mop? (Snock pulls his arms back to wiggles his fingers beneath Tyson's real ears) Are they ssstringy at the bottom? (Snock reached over the top of Tyson's ears and makes a swirly motion) Are they curly at the top? (putting his arms through Tyson's elbows again, Snock grabs one arm with the other and pantomimes swinging it around to swat flies) Do they make a good fly ssswatter? (Snock switches grip to his other arm and dabs it at the air like a rubber stamp) Do they make a good ink blotter? (Snock pulls his arms back and seems to disappear by dipping down out of frame) Do your earsss flip-flop?

(Tyson notices Snock is gone and looks around, wondering where he went, letting his guard down and uncovering his ears. Suddenly Snock pops back out and grabs his ears again, stretching them out big like Dumbo the Elephant) Do your earsss ssstick out? (Snock, still holding onto Tyson's ears, starts flapping them up and down) Can you waggle them about? (The flapping of his big ears actually carries both boys up into the air) Can you flap them up and down (Tyson gasps in wonder as they fly around, seeing the town of Home from above, a few of their neighbors looking up or waving at them as they go by) As you fly around the town? (Tyson smiles, before noticing Snock reach up and clap his hands over his ears, folding them and causing them to fall) Can you ssshut them up for sssure (Tyson yelps as they're falling, but Snock just pulls his ears open again and they float down like a parachute) When you hear an awful bore? (They land and Snock pulls on Tyson's ears again, causing them to shrink back to normal) Do your earsss ssstick out? Tyson rubs his ears, looking around confused and conflicted, but Snock gives him a goofy smile that just makes him chuckle and shake his head, coming up to join him for the final verse, both of them using their hands to pantomime having long floppy ears instead of actually having them. Snock and Tyson together Do your ears hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow? Can you throw 'em over your shoulder Like a continental soldier Do your ears hang loooooooow? [song ends] Tyson Heh, ok, that was fun... but why did it have to be my ears? Snock Oh, well that's easy... Snock pulls down his hood, revealing his smooth round head Snock I dont have any ears! Tyson looks to the camera exasperated. Tyson Yeesh~

#welcome home #Welcome home OC #Snock #Tyson Raindrops #puppets #Do your ears hang low

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jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger · 2 years

Text

chapter: one

-> now-ta mar-iss || sailor of the sea

[synopsis] When Captain Kim Taehyung tries to rob a king, it doesn't end up the way he thinks. Together with his crew, the buccaneer tries to fulfill a quest given by the king to escape the punishment. When the intentions for the quest start to change, Taehyung battles between the selfish need to save himself and something he'd never thought he'd find. Love.

[pairing] piratecaptain!taehyung x tavernserver!oc

[tags/warnings] pirate au, fluff, angst, several suggestive themes (later on between oc and taehyung), mentions of blood and injuries, mild swear word in this chapter?, teasing, alcohol mentions and drinking, etc. i'll add more if i do come across any more warnings!

[word count] 1.5k

[author note] guess who's back from an unannounced writing hiatus? 😌 that's right, its ya girl! gosh i could go on about this story and the way it came to me and how i've just been living in this universe for the past few weeks. this was originally supposed to be a story that i wanted to work on to send to my bestie. but... it works out perfectly because it just so happens to be our second friendshipiversary 🥺 so this is for you babe! i hope we have countless more years where we can be together, @softbobamilktae! <3 without further ado, i hope you enjoy this!

♛•♛•♛

“Absolutely not!”

The roar of the man earned a few stares from the nearby vendors, but no one intervened. It was regular for the market to be as loud as it was, and the ones that bargained unreasonably earned such shouts on the daily from the people that came to sell their goods.

“Do you really think that I’m going to give you this for 10 silver tokens… just because you don’t want to pay for it full price?”

The store owner shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn’t somebody someone usually would’ve messed with, not with the reputation he held. No one came forward to bargain with him after the incident a few years ago. Lord knows where the man that tried to pick a fight over the true value a clay figurine held ended up. Answer? It truly wasn’t much, but when have such traders told the truth?

Perhaps he is new here, thought the store owner.

“No,” the other man argued. This one was half the size of the seller; the loose clothing he wore doing nothing to hide the defined collarbones that sat right under. Definitely wouldn’t be of much use in a brawl with the burly man.

“I want you to give it to me for free. You’ve kept me waiting long enough, so it seems like a fair trade, don’t you think?’

“You don’t know about me, do you, boy?”

“I don’t think you know about me either, do you?” the lankier man mocked. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving the merchant a look that so very clearly dared him to answer.

The store owner stood up from his chair behind the counter. He wasted no time in slamming his fists against the wooden surface, the force rattling some of the dolls that were on display. By now, there was a little group of people that noticed what was going on, gathering behind the madcap.

“I will not tell you once again. If you want to buy it, there are no bargains. If not, I suggest you leave.”

“How about I tell you? It would… clear things up a bit.”

The man jumped onto the counter, knocking some dolls and knick-knacks out of the way. He leaned in as close as he could to the store owner and grinned.

“I am Captain Kim Taehyung. Don’t be fooled by the term captain, though. I’m not some stuck-up Royal Marine. No, I am what you might call a marauder. A pirate, if you will.”

The store owner widened his eyes in anger. He was about to swing at the pirate when the man jumped off the counter, causing him to miss and hit some metal pans instead.

“What makes you think I’d sell anything of mine to a bloody pirate such as yourself?”

The silence in the crowd felt too loud in the moment. Taehyung snorted under his breath; a smirk plastered across his face. To think that he had come here wanting to blend into the crowd, not become the center of it.

“I hate you lot. Always taking things that don’t belong to you.”

“Well, you’re not being very nice, are you? I’m feeling peak customer dissatisfaction! Will you…” Taehyung grinned at the huffing man. “Give me anything to regain my satisfaction?”

“Naff off, why don’t you!”

And, so he did.

He found himself weaving his way through the thick throng once again, getting lost in between the swarms of late afternoon marketgoers. Taehyung licked the top of his gums, a smile spreading across his lips.

That went well. He was doing great.

•••

Until he wasn’t. Although it wasn’t completely his fault this time.

His crew – yes, he wasn’t just some random pirate, he was most definitely the fiercest Pirate Captain of them all – already knew of his notorious habit of finding trouble even in the simplest of situations. Going to a tavern for a drink wasn’t supposed to be anything new. They were pirates; they practically dwelt in them.

So why was he now laying on the dirt road with a smile on his face and a hand to his bloody nose?

•••

Taehyung threw a hand around one of his crew mates, clinking his mug of rum with a few others.

“We shall enjoy tonight! It’s been harsh sailing from our last location these last few months. I’m getting a feeling that this kingdom has great things in store for us. Including… rum! Cheers!”

His crew hurrahed, drinking to their heart’s content. They called for more and more mugs of alcohol, reveling in the knowledge that their Captain would take care of the costs.

Taehyung stared at his team of misfits as he sipped his drink. He hadn’t really planned on settling in this kingdom for too long, but the sight of his men enjoying themselves for the first time in so long made him want to stay.

Besides, there were other... pressing matters he had to attend to here.

Taehyung got up to head over to a quieter place in the tavern, wanting to be alone. He hadn’t noticed where he was going, bumping right into a tray. He dropped his mug and noticed that the server was about to slip. He threw an arm around her back, a hand holding onto hers.

The girl gaped at him, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“Why, aren’t you lovely?”

Taehyung gazed into her eyes, glancing back and forth between both. She was gorgeous; the mole in the corner of her eye, the lashes that crisscrossed crookedly, the blinks of surprise she took, all of it.

“Sir, do you mind?”

“I don’t really.”

The girl pushed against him, regaining her balance once she dusted off her dress. She stared at the young man nervously. His beige tunic was now coated with a coppery brown shade, and the look on his face was anything but anger.

“I’m very sorry. I should’ve watched where I was going.”

The Captain ran a hand over his shirt, trying to rid of some of the wetness of the rum. He shook his head at her.

“No no. It was my pleasure running into such a beautiful woman.”

The girl sighed silently in relief. His comment – although making her happy that he wasn’t furious – sent her stomach into a frenzy.

“I… would you like help cleaning up?”

“I would love that. Although… I would like something else, too. You see, this tunic isn’t cheap material. And your help, won’t be able to restore it to its former splendor.”

The server watched him continue.

“So… how about something to make up for it? Say, a kiss?”

Taehyung snaked his hand around her waist in the blink of an eye, pulling her close to him. He searched her wide eyes for any kind of refusal.

Until he heard a voice from behind him.

“Hey!”

Taehyung glanced behind him, spotting a young man coming his way. He didn’t look much younger than him, but the muscles that threatened to rip through his tight belted tunic definitely showed who would win in a fight.

“Let her go.”

The pirate loosened his grip on the girl, but didn’t let go. He eyed the man with interest, enjoying the thrill of the situation.

“Jungkook, it’s fi-”

“It isn’t.”

“My, my. The lass has a bodyguard, too. She must be really importa-“

Taehyung felt searing pain in his nose the next second. He was on the floor now, warm blood oozing out of his nose slowly.

“She is. And you do not get to lay your hands on her.”

The boy – Jungkook – glared at the Captain, his eyebrows wrinkling together. He picked the man off the ground and dragged him outside the tavern. He threw him out, making way for his crew to follow behind him.

“Don’t even think about coming back here again.”

With that, he slammed the door to the pub shut, rattling the metal sign that sat atop the awning.

•••

The buccaneer picked himself off the ground, an arm draped around one of his men.

“She was quite the beauty, wasn’t she, Jimin?”

The shorter man nodded; his lips pressed firmly together. One of his hands enveloped the Captain’s while the other laid against his back.

“Definitely worth,” Taehyung spit some blood out of his mouth, and continued, “the pain.”

“But was it worth the damage to your handsome face?”

Taehyung stopped in his tracks, peering down at his helper. “Now that you mention it… I don’t think so, Jimin.”

Jimin turned to face his boss, a half-smile donning his lips.

“You know… there’s a reason I’ve always liked you, Park. You know just how to remind me of the important things in any situation. You’re truly a friend indeed.”

“That certainly means a great deal to me coming from you, Captain. But we should be getting back to your quarters soon.”

Once they started on the path leading to the docks, Taehyung leaned his head back. He stared at the faint blink of the stars. The rum that he’d so joyously downed swirled around his head, blurring his thoughts and distorting his vision. But one thing did remain crystal clear.

He had finally found her.

♛•♛•♛

[author note pt.2] ahhh i hope you liked this! this is so very late, my biggest anticipator, zee, 🥺 but it is finally here. i am currently working on more of this so i do plan to make this a chaptered story. i think we all know by now that im the kind of writer to keep coming back after long periods of disappearing- but i do want to be consistent with this and a few other ideas i have so, you'll be seeing more of me. please look out for the other parts soon ^~^ thank you for reading!

[tagging] @jinnie-forthe-winnie + @taehoneycheeks

a note that i would really appreciate it if you could like/reblog the story if you enjoyed it. take a peek at my masterlist to see if anything piques your interest, too. if you would like to be added to the taglist, please send me an ask or comment under any one of my stories! 🥰

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starplatinumnun · 9 months

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YES HELLO WHERE DO I SIGN UP FOR PRINCESS NASTASYA GERARD DOMINGUEZ-SANGRÉ LORE (also i'm giving you the ultimate high five bc i never meet other ppl who give characters poly parents and am DELIGHTED)

Thank you so much!!!! I also haven't met many people with ocs who are children of poly parents, so that's so cool! <3

I can't tell you the FULL lore (because I haven't thought of it yet, and to be fair, it's already really convoluted) but Nastasya is technically the child of my main characters, who later becomes a main character herself.

Nastasya technically isn't a person in the conventional sense. She's more of a... homonculus? She doesn't exactly fit the definition of a homonculus, but that's what I've got for right now. She was created as Adam from the bible and Wonder Woman were created, except in a weirder and much more bloody way. She is not the first person to be made this way. (The first person was the prophet, Vita Carnis, who was an Eve and Jesus figure combined.)

More under the cut! There's a lot, so I don't want to clog anyone's dash! :) Again, thanks for asking!

Her nickname is Nastya, but her full (really long) name and title is Princess Nastasya Gerard Dolores Vita Dominguez-Sangré, Heir to the Sanguine Priesthood, Wanted High Traitor and Former Court Oracle to King Lasha the Nightslayer of the Lucian Authority. (She may have gotten a little silly as the court oracle to another religious sect and committed high treason. Oops! But that's in the future.)

Her mothers, in a brief summary because THEIR lore is even longer than Nastasya's, are some of the most influential people in their universe.

Her mother, Mischa, is a lesbian cannibal who runs a theocracy. (Cannibalism is common where she comes from.) She killed Judith, and Eleanora's friend. She was VERY surprised when Judith resurrected after ten or so minutes. They share thoughts with one another like a force mind-meld thing, and Judith thought she hallucinated her for years.

Her other mother, Judith, was "the chosen one," who came and slayed a good majority of the gods in their universe. She isn't from their universe, and continues to be an anomaly to this day. She has several patron deities, which is abnormal as the average person has one to two. Not a Mary Sue by any means, though. She has several disabilities, and is medically considered dead, though she has circulation, is warm, and occasionally has a pulse.

Her other mother, Connie, is a transgender lesbian woman who serves as Mischa's "right hand." All of her decisions run past Connie. She and Mischa are childhood best friends, though she was pretty much Mischa's advisor for a while. She and Mischa are on equal footing in terms of power now, though, so don't worry!

And finally, her other mother, Eleanora, is a genetic chimera who infiltrates the religious order that Mischa leads to get revenge for her dead friend, a novitiate member of their religious order. She has three patron deities, as she absorbed both her fraternal triplets in the womb. She meets Judith at the beginning of the story.

Their relationship starts out unhealthy (they have all tried to kill each other) but as they realize their feelings for one another, they turn into a healthy polycule with healthy communication. They raise their daughter (and eventually her sister) with care. In fact, she grows up a bit spoiled because her mothers dote on her all the time.

Because of the genetics thing, she happens to look like all four of them to varying degrees, though her skin is somewhat clay-colored. Has autism and a disability like all four of them, too. An unusual aptitude for less benevolent areas of magic, due to her patron deities. Her skin condition, however, is of magical origin. Every time she uses her magic, it causes growths to sprout on her face. They can be removed surgically, but cause intense scarring, pain, and bleeding.

In the future, she becomes court oracle to the Lucian Authority, a neighboring kingdom. She sets into motion a set of events that cause a civil war, a birth, a power struggle, an amateur c-section, and the faking of her own death. She teams up with a knight that she meets while on the run as a fugitive following the inciting incident, and they go on a quest to kill the king and kidnap a child together. Except, it's getting a child back to its parent, so it's like reverse kidnapping? Idk. Her full story needs its OWN post.

She has a pet cat, who is a skeleton she resurrected. It goes with her everywhere. Its name is Fish.

Tell me if you want more Nastya facts, because I have a ton!!!! That's all for now though, because I think I've been editing this for over an hour lmao. The lore is really confusing, but that's probably because I've never explained it to someone else before, and this is only a portion of the greater story.

I'm so glad someone took an interest in my oc polycule and their baby <3

#asks #nunnie.txt #nastya oc #nunnie ocs

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