#oc: aristides

[mechagender]

another oc but this time from a different AU. name TBD!!

[accidentalcookies]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 1

self-done stitches / alcohol as sanitizer / "It's just a scratch, I've had worse."

tw: blood, but i think that kind of goes without saying, haha

caretaker: celestinus

whumpee: shaoyuan

no oc intro post yet because i am a chronic procrastinator, but someday i'll link it 😅 for some context, both celestinus and shaoyuan are part of a mafia/criminal underworld-type thing run by aristides, with celestinus as aristides' personal bodyguard and just general medic, and sy as aristides' assassin. this is relatively early on in their relationship, after celestinus has warmed to sy, but before it has been made clear to sy that the others actually care about him as a person. there's also a brief mention of some sort of technological enhancement that sy has, which i hope to elaborate on in future fics, but for now, you can essentially think of it as just your bog standard sci-fi enhanced human-type thing (strength, speed, healing factor, etc.)

enjoy!

---

The elevator doors slid open—and, catching sight of what was inside, Celestinus groaned.

“No,” he said. “No, you have got to be kidding me.”

Shaoyuan raised an eyebrow at him. “‘Hi, Shaoyuan,’” he deadpanned. “‘It’s nice to see you, Shaoyuan.’ I’ve been led to believe that that’s typical for greetings.”

Celestinus leveled him with an unamused stare. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

And just in case Shaoyuan didn’t get the gist, he pointedly swept his gaze down to his side, to where he had one hand pressed to a suspiciously dark patch on his clothing.

“No idea, actually,” he replied blandly. “Can I get through?”

The absolute gall of this man.

He reached in to take Shaoyuan’s arm—not the one that could have been holding in his internal organs, for all Celestinus knew.

But instead, his hand closed around air as Shaoyuan neatly sidestepped around him.

“Thanks,” he said, and turned to leave. “See you later.”

“Nope. We’re not playing this game.”

He dropped his bag and followed. In just a few words, Shaoyuan had already eaten up half the hallway with his lanky stride, and didn’t slow his pace as Celestinus caught up either, forcing him to do a sort of awkward half-jog just to stay at his side.

Shaoyuan didn’t turn. “What game?”

“The one where you swear up and down that you’re fine, and then I have to peel your sorry ass off the floor when you eat it.”

That had been a harrowing experience, loathe as Celestinus was to remember it. Aristides had only noticed because Shaoyuan, ever the most diligent member of this organization, had missed reporting in to him after his mission. When he’d gone searching, he found him flat on his face, bleeding out from a set of gunshot wounds—ones that normally would not have been a major problem, had his internal hardware not been compromised.

But it had been, and there was literally no one else left alive on the planet who knew how to un-compromise it, and so Celestinus had spent a long, stressful night playing “pin the tail on the donkey”—if you substituted the donkey with Shaoyuan and the tail with life.

“That was extenuating circumstances,” said the donkey, surprising absolutely no one with his wildly understated description. “There was an EMP involved.”

“That wasn’t extenuating circumstances, practically everyone tries to hit you with one nowadays,” Celestinus countered. “And the consequences were very much real and very much inconvenient and I’ll be damned if I have to deal with it again. What happened?”

“...It’s just a scratch,” he replied. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but that’s not what I asked.”

“Weren’t you about to do something for Aristides?” he asked. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Celestinus had been about to run an errand, true, but that was before something else took priority. Namely, corralling their resident idiot into letting him throw a first aid kit at him.

Preferably at his head. Patients were much more convenient to work with when they were unconscious.

“Really, beanpole?” he sighed.

Looked like he had no other choice. It was time for the big guns: appealing to Shaoyuan’s unwillingness to inconvenience others.

He looked back over his shoulder. “You dripped blood on the floor.”

“I know I didn’t,” Shaoyuan said.

Despite that, he still slowed to turn back, and in that moment of distraction, Celestinus’ hand shot out to yank Shaoyuan’s away from his side.

Things proceeded to devolve. Shaoyuan ducked to one side, then again as Celestinus lunged for him, then a third time as he lunged for him again, at which point Celestinus gave up, decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and jabbed him in the solar plexus.

As Shaoyuan wheezed and folded over, Celestinus pulled his hand away—and then  had to fight through the various layers of fancy clothing both he and Aristides preferred to find the bloodied skin below, yanking them into disarray.

Ever the joker, Shaoyuan croaked out, “Dinner first.”

“Ha hah, you’re so funny,” Celestinus deadpanned, staring down at a large gash that would most definitely need stitches. “This is not ‘just a scratch.'”

“It hasn’t breached the abdominal cavity,” he pointed out. “That’s a scratch.”

Celestinus sighed and let it go, knowing that trying to argue injury definitions with a man who thought breaching the abdominal cavity was a good indicator for when things were starting to become bad was a lost cause. “You’re coming with me.”

“Your errand–”

“Can wait. Keeping you from bleeding on the carpets is the priority.”

Shaoyuan looked pointedly at the ground. “I’m noticing a severe lack of carpets.”

“Oh, because bleeding on marble isn’t just as bad?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m helping whether or not you agree. All arguing’s gonna do is waste my time.”

He made direct eye contact with Shaoyuan and held it stubbornly, until finally the man relented and looked away.

“Fine,” he said.

Internally, Celestinus breathed a long sigh of relief. “Then come on,” he said.

---

tagging: @whumperless-whump-event

[wwskalisto]

Guess who got into another roblox game 😨

Guts & Blackpowder,,,, no stop why is Jean-Louise-le-petit oui-oui-duboire hot

no not you too Barry Wheatley Sherrington Michael Charles Cunningham III augdheuehdj

Anyways have these two of my silly GBP ocs I turned into Cookies hehehedashahshsdh goes crazy

[somnolenthour]

[He doesn't know he's referencing his father's cigar scene]

[vasiliquemort]

Boiling domes of my distance

In all that's gentle and benign, all tender and so delicate was granted - by gracious closeness and mistful utterings that is of loveliest of all @thesavagemuffin, for whom is whole galore and domes of my adore and love and bows to gentle hands, and tender hearts, and watchful eyes<зз

Thank you of plenty, in each that's passed, is oncoming, current, and uttered!

[cptnprice]

Big lad ain'tcha

[m-m-m-myysurana]

The first real painting I've undertaken in a while, for my friends @snarky-bee and @antivan-beau of their beautiful Crow OCs, Renata and Aristide. I am obsessed with them so this was an absolute joy to create. <3

[runescratch]

A reaper lad and his dog (avatar)

[btteredtoast]

grown ass man and you’re smirking into the camera like that….-_-

[radicandy]

let the crocodile do what she wants

[seriusspace01]

Dragona y dos nenes de reality

[accidentalcookies]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 11

stuffy nose / hate to be sick / "I'm fine, I can work."

caretaker: celestinus

whumpee: shaoyuan (intro post here!)

this is the follow-up to this! enjoy :D

“Alright, sit.”

Celestinus gave Shaoyuan a gentle push towards the chair, before he headed towards their very well-stocked medicine cabinet to start pulling out what he needed.

“I’m going to give you a local anesthetic—and no, you’re not going to refuse,” he added, seeing Shaoyuan open his mouth to protest. “I don’t know what asshole taught you that you don’t need it, but I’m not having it.”

“This really isn’t that bad,” Shaoyuan replied, like Celestinus knew he would. “Even without stitches, it’ll heal within a week.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care,” he said. “We’re doing this my way, not the masochistic idiot way.”

“It’s a waste of your supplies.”

“Supplies can be replenished.”

“They’re an unnecessary expense.”

Celestinus turned to glare at him. “Keep arguing and I’ll use hot pink thread, don’t test me,” he said.

Shaoyuan gave him a odd look. “You’re just going to bandage it afterwards,” he pointed out. “You won’t even be able to see the thread.”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” he said. “Now, shirt.”

“I’m wearing one, yes,” Shaoyuan deadpanned, but moved to pull his button-up off overhead–

“Stop!” he said hastily, rushing forward to grab the arm on his injured side. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to gun for the exsanguination olympics?”

“It’s the most expeditious method, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You have a gash halfway into your abdominal cavity, can you at least try to pretend to have a sense of self-preservation?” he retorted exasperatedly. “Unbutton that, don’t just yoink it off, jesus.”

Shaoyuan rolled his eyes, but began to fiddle with the buttons.

Celestinus gave him a stern stare, one that promised retribution if Shaoyuan ignored his order, then turned back to his tray.

It wasn’t exactly an outlandish expectation to think that Shaoyuan would have his shirt unbuttoned by the time he had finished preparing the local anesthetic, but somehow, defying expectation, only half of the buttons had been undone, with the man fumbling at the next.

His concern abruptly grew. “How much blood did you lose?” he asked.

“Do you want that in metric or imperial?” Shaoyuan asked dryly.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“No idea. Enough to ruin my suit jacket, I think.”

Celestinus glanced over at the discarded jacket sitting on a second chair. “Incredibly helpful,” he deadpanned, staring at the black fabric, which could be hiding anywhere from a small splash of blood to a whole goddamn flood. “You could probably wear that without washing it and nobody would even see the stain.”

“Black is good like that,” he agreed, and finally pried another button open.

His gaze drifted down to Shaoyuan's hands, then.

His hands, which had a minute, but most definite, tremor.

“Give me that,” he finally said, and undermined his own exasperation by kneeling down by Shaoyuan’s side and gently unbuttoning the rest of the buttons. “You’re shaking.”

Pointedly pulling his shirt off, Shaoyuan replied, “It’s cold in here.”

He let out a long sigh, and went to retrieve his tray. “Fine,” he said, kneeling at his side again. “We’ll do this the hard way. Move your arm.”

They were both quiet as Celestinus injected the local anesthetic—Celestinus out of concentration, and Shaoyuan no doubt out of stubbornness. But Celestinus had been at this for decades, now. Shaoyuan wasn’t the first patient he’d had to outstubborn, and he certainly wasn’t about to start failing now.

“Are you bleeding out from somewhere else that I can’t see?” he finally asked, putting the first hot pink suture in.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.”

“Is there something else that I should be aware of?”

A minute pause. “No,” Shaoyuan said, and to his credit, almost sounded like he wasn’t lying. But by this point in their acquaintanceship, as well as this point in Celestinus’ experience with handling a recalcitrant Shaoyuan, he knew how to read him nearly as well as Aristides.

“Then there is,” he concluded.

A thin, frustrated huff escaped Shaoyuan. “I have it handled,” he only said.

“That’s not an answer. What is it?”

“Not a concern, and not something you can do anything about. It’ll run its course in a few hours.”

“Still not an answer.”

“I’m entitled to my little mysteries.”

Celestinus hadn’t wanted to play this card, but god knew they always ended up here eventually. “Not if they affect your performance, they don’t,” he said. “I can tell Aristides what I’ve observed.”

Shaoyuan sighed again—not making Celestinus’ stitching job down here any easier, thanks—and said, “After.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he said, and sped up as much as he could.

The rest of the stitches were finished in silence—a silence that was broken by Shaoyuan’s half-amused, half-exasperated, “Really?”

“What?” he asked, taping a bandage over the neat line of hot pink stitches.

“You just happen to have hot pink on hand?” he replied.

“It’s not my first time threatening someone with ‘em.”

“It’s not a threat if I don’t feel threatened,” he pointed out, pulling his shirt back on.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, picking up his tray. “Now, elabora—whoa!”

The contents of the tray went skittering across the floor as Celestinus hastily grabbed hold of Shaoyuan’s arm, keeping him from tipping over as he dropped heavily back into the chair, blinking rapidly.

“You okay?” he asked, when Shaoyuan’s gaze refocused—and had to push down on his shoulders to keep him from attempting to rise again.

“Head rush,” he offered as explanation. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, because nearly passing out is such a great indicator of being fine,” Celestinus said sarcastically. “Elaborate.”

“Many minor medical conditions can cause someone to feel light-headed,” Shaoyuan rattled off. “Like, for example, suddenly losing a large amount of blood, or being tall, or–”

“Elaborate or I’m getting Aristides.”

“Alright, fine,” Shaoyuan said, finally, finally folding. “I might be a little bit poisoned.”

At that, Celestinus froze. Then fought the urge to throttle him. “Why didn’t you start with that?” he asked, half-exasperated, half-worried.

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I’d still like to be aware, for fuck’s sake! What poison is it?”

Shaoyuan shrugged. “Some sort of neurotoxin. It’s not an issue. I’m synthesizing the antidote right now.”

“Symptoms?”

“Some shakiness,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“That is precisely why I’m worried,” he said, exasperated. And pushed down on Shaoyuan’s shoulders again, as he tried to rise, again. “Can you just stay put? I’m going to need to keep an eye on you.”

“It’s–”

“I swear to god, Shaoyuan, if you say it’s not an issue again, I’m going to tie you to this chair. And don’t,” he said with a glare, as Shaoyuan went to speak, “even start.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said mildly. “So how long do you plan to watch me for? Because I still need to give my report to Aristides.”

Celestinus just stared at him for a moment. “You can give your report when you’re not poisoned by a neurotoxin.” 

“I’m fine,” he said. “I can still work. This is my job.”

“Your job now is to relax until your symptoms go away,” Celestinus replied firmly. “All of them. I am not having you kick the bucket on my watch.”

“It’s–”

“Shut your mouth,” he interrupted. “This is very much an issue, and next time, please say something earlier. No matter how much you think you have it handled.”

He leveled him with a firm stare—and maintained eye contact until Shaoyuan looked away.

“Alright,” he muttered.

As much as Celestinus wanted to believe him, he’d be a fool if he thought this was the end of it.

“I’m holding you to that,” he said.

---

tagging: @whumperless-whump-event @whumpbug

[wwskalisto]

Finally got around to fixing their sprites yippee

My beloved children andhhsjssjheeivddjhdksndkdhsjsh heehee

@lucidreamer404 Should I Guts & Blackpowder or Arcane Odyssey❓❗❓❗❓💥💥💥/silly/huh

[somnolenthour]

Patrick and Belladonna: We like to think we raised two well-adjusted kids

[luxiedrawsshit42]

These three siblings are the cast of their own sitcom in my heart

Alt hues under the cut!

[greaterarts]

The exiled son of a rich family, Alcibiades is known for being a nuisance, a drunk, a slut, and a shockingly good bard. Despite all that, he is actually very devout and always returns to the Order's temple complex no matter how many times he's chased off.