#sia oc

[sialaterornever]

hi my ocs are going to fight other people in my server's ocs in a secyman (sexyman but not) competition wish me good luck

also @mayalutara dred's gonna beat hr!maya's ass. or not. i have like 4 other ocs its fine. oh and sialazar better not lose to fucking. cathulu. i want a hr!sialazar v hr!nick/chaos round

[letsgetonwithit]

[ellfiend]

[shrenvents]

Miracle Aligner

Alex Turner Series

Series Masterlist

Summary: Who knew Alex Turner, frontman to one of the greatest bands of this generation had the worst luck in love. As a romantic who's quite familiar with heartbreak, Turner's grown sick of looking for a spark that will eventually burn him. So, while visiting a local pub, how was he supposed to know that a drunken Tuesday night, would change his sombre tune forever?

Inspired by the album Everything You've Come To Expect. Mature content (sexual acts, language) Original character.

Chapter one:

Aviation

Toronto, November 15, 2015

5:57 pm

Alex's POV

"That's enough Turner!" Zach yells over the various clamouring instruments. "You've been working on these songs for weeks and this was the best you got mate?" Jaime continues with a snort. "Yeah?" I huff, rolling my eyes.

Jaime and Zach exchange a knowing look before Zach pipes up again. "You know what Al? Why don't you call it a night, maybe go out, meet a few girls, have fun." He then glances to my right. "Miles you stay and finish your set."

"What's this?" I jest, bewildered by my bandmates.

"Sorry Al, the songs you've been writing these days just aren't the Shadow Puppets brand," Jaime trails off, looking more empathetic than his counterpart. My brows crease further into my eyelids and I dully unclasp the guitar strap from my shoulder. "My songs don't fit the 'brand' of my band?" I glare at them in disbelief as the two share another look.

"Sorry Al, but your material has been all doom and gloom these days." Miles now exclaims while avoiding my troubled expression. He pauses before continuing. "Your greatest hits are love songs, passionate shite." Miles's eyes then connect with my own, and I finally understand what he's implying. "It's been a while mate." His last statement was the final blow.

That's right, I haven't been with anyone for months, romantically, physically, and everybody knows it. These days I just find romance to be tiresome. Even a shag doesn't seem to excite me much anymore. I've simply gone mad, that's what it is.

Though they seem to have me all figured out, I refuse to give in to their remarks. "You lot have lost it. I'll come back when you've come to your senses!" I bark out while snatching up my guitar and jacket. The boy's faint snickers fill the room as I take off towards the door. "Aw c'mon, Al!" Jaime carries out, stifling his laughter. I slam the door behind me with unnecessary force, utterly infuriated.

Instantly after leaving the studio, I feel the blistering Canadian winter encase my narrow frame. "Bugger," I snit before whipping out my phone, in hopes an Uber would usher me away from this frost. To my dismay, because of the excessive snowfall, transport was either delayed or unavailable, and I had no interest in sticking around roadside. So, I switched to searching for a local pub, racing out of the cold.

...

After a numbing 10-minute journey, I reached a pub called Les Cactus and ripped open its wooden entrance, embracing its heat. Whilst I take a seat on the nearest bar stool, a flash of red catches the corner of my eyes. A waitress with her back turned serves drinks to a group of men who gawk at her with an unreserved fancy. Momentarily, I admire her long, fiery hair that flows down her fit backside. Fortunately, the incoming bartender removes me from my fairly pervy thoughts. "What can I get for ya buddy?" The bartender ranks down my features, odd excitement filling his own. "You got any Bulleit?" He smirks.

"Sure thing." He spins away from me, before quickly rotating back and whispering for my ears only, "Big fan by the way." I smile politely with a nod as he disappears into the bar to prepare my drink. My gaze returns to the space where the redhead once stood, which is now vacant. "Here ya go. Let me know if you need anything else!" The bartender ponders shortly before speaking, "My name's Mickey by the way." He places my bourbon down with an oddly suggestive wink.

8:24 pm

"Maybe consider spacing out your next drink Alex. I get you're a millionaire and money ain't a thing," Mickey bobs his head, taking note of appearance, "but you're kinda overdoing it buddy," he finishes. I scoff at his smirk and slap a bill on the countertop. "Another." My face and tone drop in an attempt to be taken seriously, but my drunken command doesn't detour Mickey's delight.

"You're the boss."

"Uh-uh, that's at least his sixth drink this hour M." An unfamiliar feminine voice pitches in. It's husky and demanding, and so, I intend to listen. Curiously turning to look, my vision is consumed by that recognizable carrot-like head. If I was captivated before seeing her face, I was surely a goner now.

Mickey ceases his actions while she stares between us with scrutiny. I'm gobsmacked and she clearly takes my silence as a sort of confirmation. "Right, no more for him. Okay M?" Mickey nods sternly, face falling moderately as her tone leaves no room for opposition. "Alexander!" I practically cry out before Red gets the chance to leave. Smooth Turner.

"Excuse me?"

"I-uh, name's Alex..." Yeah, very smooth.

"Jennie." She states curtly, evidently bemused. She then moves swiftly on her heel towards the kitchen. Straight away I grimace, pulling a hand to my forehead, rubbing its lines harshly. "Not a word." Mickey chuckles quietly and goes back to his work.

9:41 pm

"Still here, Alexander?" My head shoots up, startled by Red. When did I even fall asleep-

"Yes?" She snorts at my jumbled reply.

"Want me to call you a cab? A shrink perhaps?"

"M' sorry?" I question clumsily.

"Oh? I just thought you may need one, after hearing what you told to Mickey." Her sultry voice echoes out her rather devious grin. "God." My eyes widen in horror which aids her impending elation. "What have I said?"

"Nothing really, just that..." She starts counting her digits absentmindedly. "You've got no luck writing your music, no love life. Oh, and you have no sex life!" She proclaims the last part with glee. Jesus, please end this nightmare.

"I did not."

"Did too."

"I've had too much drink."

"Drunken words are sober thoughts." Jennie carries on smiling at my trepidation. Maybe I'd find her charming if her jokes weren't at my expense. "That's it, I'm not tipping." I declare pathetically. Her devilish smirk doesn't falter. "Seriously? Things can't be that bad! Mickey tells me you're actually a successful musician."

"That you've obviously never heard of." I roll my eyes at the absurdity of our conversation. She laughs aloud at my response, which I admit, brought a genuine smile to my face. It really has been a while. Her face then goes blank. "Alexander."

"Alex."

"Alex. You're young." She pauses, her gaze sweeps my shaggy appearance. "Ish"

"Ouch." I flinch jokingly, earning myself another gorgeous laugh and playful swat.

"Hey! And you're good-looking."

"Ish." I interrupt again with a chuckle and her smile grows.

"No!" She more or less shouts, "You have a lot to work with, trust me." Her hands gesture nimbly. "The only thing standing in the way of you getting laid is yourself." A surprise roar of laughter leaves my lips shortly and I shake my head in disbelief.

"You're selling yourself short here Alexander," Red concludes. "Alex-"

"You're wasting your youth-ish," she interrupts me once again and a sliver of silence washes over us. It's as if we're the only ones in this packed pub, eyes locked on one another, communicating beyond words. Her deep hazel orbs focus on my brown ones. "What do you suggest I do then, Jennie?" Lightly raising a brow, my words dare her while her lovely name rolls off my tongue. I can't help but revel in how it sounds. Then something flashes in her fixated stare.

"Let's get out of here."

Chapter two

[wackulart]

day 1 attack for @chytag!!

and day 3 attack for @missazura!!!

[the-raging-tempest]

Thank you for the tag Dujour 💕 @dujour13

As you know I can’t pick favorites so I’m going to do them both. An excuse to post about songs in my frankly insufferably long playlists for them. This is such a long post that I will let the song and lyrics choices be unexplained. Unless people are truly curious haha

I’ll tag @aelyosos @bearvanhelsing @thesolemnhour @amatres @undyingembers

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:

1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

Lariel

1. Hey, Who Really Cares - Linda Perhacs

"Hey now, who really cares Hey, won't somebody listen Let me say what's been on my mind Can I bring it out to you I need someone to talk to And no one else would spare me the time"

2. People Are Strangers - Zella Day

"You're only alone for a little while So do what you can to sit back and smile They tell you that they'll never tell you a lie Put you in a spell to get you on their side They're trying to hide, but they're crossing the line And it's bad behavior"

3. Run Devil Run - Haunted Like Human

"Call her prophet, call her priestess, call her witch or patron saint But we know Jesus ain’t around no more and there’s people needing saved Don’t think God’s got any part of it, no holy books or ancient tongues There’s bottle of fire in her hand, and there’s fire in her lungs"

4. Closer - The Tiny, Elle-Kari

"Then you're close enough to lose Close to the point where you know that your mind It can not choose Close enough to lose Close enough to lose Your heart"

5. Simmer - Hayley Williams

"Control There's so many ways to give in Eyes closed Another way to make it to ten Oh, how to draw the line between wrath and mercy? Gotta simmer, simmer, simmer, simmer, simmer down"

6. You in a Place for a While by Yourself - Voice Coils

"Sometimes I find myself hearing verses from other songs Melodies I heard in a dream where your eyes turned white And I felt like loosening off of the centaurs in me And those songs sustained through our minds until we were silent Hooves heard by the drift outside"

Zrise

1. Favoured Son - The Mechanisms

"I can pay your way If your part you’ll play In service to the family As my favoured son" Buy a life eternal with my (your) bloodied hands In service to the family as the favoured son"

2. Rex - Brutus II - The Buttress

"Mothers will kill their own daughters And friend will kill friend It's not cruel or loveless or hatred Cause even if it means I must erase you I do so for the good of the many of those who must remain so please forgive me!"

3. Heartless - The Weeknd

"'Cause I'm heartless And I'm back to my ways 'cause I'm heartless All this money and this pain got me heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless Said I'm heartless Tryna be a better man but I'm heartless Never be a wedding plan for the heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless"

4. Thank You for the Venom - My Chemical Romance

"You'll never make me leave I wear this on my sleeve Give me a reason to believe So give me all your poison And give me all your pills And give me all your hopeless hearts And make me ill You're running after something That you'll never kill If this is what you want Then fire at will"

5. SLAY!! - Paledusk, Hideyoshi

"SLAY!!SLAY!!SLAY!!SLAY!! I'm your slayer 茶割り飲み We're getting higher SLAY!!SLAY!! あんま気にせんや ニアサイド 飛び込んだコーナー"

6. Sick, Sick, Sick - Queens of the Stone Age

"First thing we succumb to Shall erase and undo Days are unreleased, if there's no release Please just let me do whatever fits you Make something, make someone Beg on a knee, baby, baby please Pout your bottom lip while cracking the whip You know what we want, it's candy to cum to"

[thebirdarts]

Georgie and @dujour13 's Sia finally get their [very belated] ockiss! I found myself smiling every time i work on this, Sia is so fun to draw!

Thank you again for the wonderful writing of the two you did, and here's a glimpse of what might of happened had Sia's self doubt not gotten the better of him!

[twstinginthewind]

@twst-the-night-away my beloved posted an amazing idea in a chat today

And I had so much fun answering I want to share it here, too.

Deuce seeing Joker for the first time:

There were an awful lot of first-years being sorted through at the commencement ceremony, and Deuce was trying so hard to concentrate, he found himself not paying much attention to many of his fellow classmates at all, and was only vaguely aware of the other new students that shuffled along with him back to Heartslabyul. The next few days, too, were a bit chaotic, with everything that was happening with that new Ramshackle student, that pain in the butt roommate of his, and, oh yeah, that thing happening with Riddle. Plus in classes, he was keeping his head down a lot and trying so hard to focus!! So it took him until the second unbirthday party to notice her.

And he had no idea what took him so long. She had a laugh that he could hear clear across the rose maze, and when she came up to see if she could sample the housewarden's baking, he could barely form a reply, and just shoved a plate at her awkwardly. And she giggled at that, making his heart start feeling funny. And then the little nose wrinkle when she tasted the salty oyster sauce in the tart...

Unfortunately, Deuce was already down bad.

When she leaned over to whisper "You know, Deuce, I think perhaps housewarden Rosehearts should stick to his day job," Deuce replied with a devastatingly clever "kagsgsisjsv". Smooth. As. Silk.

And THEN he had NO idea how she knew his NAME and oh haha ok it turns out she sits behind him in like every class what the hell Deuce why have you not paid attention?

Epel seeing Punch for the first time:

Epel, he notices the big guy during club recruitment. Punch is unsubtly being approached by several of the athletics clubs, and is awkwardly and politely *turning them down*. The heck?? Look at that idjit's *shoulders*! Why's that big lug lettin' all that go to *waste*?! Why is he talkin' to that durned Ashengrotto?? Board games???? What??????

A discussion later (it turns out they share a class or three), and Epel finds out that Punch was just holding out for a hockey club, then saw his dorm leader's floating tablet and wound up getting talked into joining. For the love of lil' green apples, what is WITH this guy? Anyway, they become workout buddies as a result bc Punch doesn't want to fall out of practice just because he's not actively playing.

Epel occasionally tries (unsuccessfully) to get Punch to switch to spelldrive. Maybe one day he'll get a game with him.

More under the cut!

Trey seeing Joker for the first time:

So as we know (as per one of their ceremonial robes vignettes, i forget which), Cater and Trey got a good look at the incoming freshmen as they received their dorm assignments, and tried to guess where each of them would go. Cater commented to Trey about the long-haired girl with the red lipstick, and Trey got a good look at her just as the mirror announced her Heartslabyul assignment. She gave a huge, happy, relieved smile, and he, of course, noticed immediately that her teeth were just perfect. I mean, yes, cute face nice hair and this and that but that smile, huh. This girl flosses.

Rook seeing Bobby for the first time:

Rook periodically revisits his original dorm; he's still quite attached to Savanaclaw, and is very much an admirer of the wild beauty on display within the dorm. He first sees Bobby during one of his clandestine visits - he wasn't expecting to see anyone else using one of his rooftop hiding places, let alone with a bow and arrow! Ah, quelle surprise! And the lad seems to be a good shot, as well. How intriguing! Perhaps he should subtly leave a message regarding the upcoming archery competition in the courtyard...

Floyd seeing Joker for the first time:

What. Was. That. Sound??

Floyd poked his head out of the Mostro lounge kitchen. That music was different~! That wasn't a piano or a guitar or a saxamophone at all! That was chords and melody all at the same time, and a rhythm too! Ohhhhh man. He was itching to dance already. He pushed aside some other students, approaching the little stage where the lounge staged its live performers.

Okay, there was a bassist, boring. Some guy on drums, whatever, anyone can do a drum. Some singer. Okay. What was making that sound though??

Then he saw the last performer. And oh, she was cute. All squishy and adorable, with a big cheery grin. Long swirly hair that bounced with the beat of the music. And that INSTRUMENT! A keyboard on one side, an array of buttons on the other, and a big ol' whatsit. A bellows? Maybe? In between the two big panels, and it squished and stretched in and out while she played.

Floyd was poised to pounce. He wanted to try that, too! It looked so fun!! He was ready to clamber onto the stage when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around, glaring daggers that quickly retracted. He wasn't gonna be too mad at Azul, even if he was chewing him out for leaving a pan burning on the stove.

After all, he had to ask Azul who this girl was, and then he was gonna wanna try her weird instrument. Maybe he could squeeze it and her at the same time. That'd be fun.

Lilia seeing Sia for the first time:

Sia transferred into NRC as a third year student, and found herself in a slightly awkward position on her first day of classes. Everyone else already knew one another, and eyed the new girl with a hint of suspicion. She wound up taking a seat towards the back of the room, without wondering why there were so many available seats. Lilia was immediately curious. Who was this girl, who was willing to sit in the periphery of Malleus's overwhelming aura? Oh, and is that an oatmilk latte she has, too? He's never seen this kitty before. He'd have to say hello; it wasn't often that he was willing to acknowledge that he was the second-cutest in the room, but he would admit defeat this time, soon as he found out her name.

Sebek seeing Joker for the first time:

Sebek was absolutely aghast. He was glad that Coach Vargas had acknowledged that he was one of the top students in the class - as he SHOULD! Sebek was proud of the results of his training! - but because of that? He was selected as a peer coach to help out some of the human students that haven't quite got the knack of using their physical prowess and magic to fly. Honestly. They're human, he's fae, there's no way to teach that!! If Malleus hadn't made such a deal of how it would reflect well on him and the dorm, Sebek would have refused to do it outright!!

And what a pathetic human they gave him, too. Soft and overfed, sturdy enough on land but fell apart when a mere ten feet above the ground. And the yelling! He would firmly give his instructions, and she would practically scream back at him to stop being so loud and pompous! Ridiculous!! But he had to get her to do well, or his failure would reflect poorly on Malleus-sama.

So he tried. And tried. And shadowed her, giving constant directions, and just getting human attitude back. And just as she finally reached an adequate minimum height for their flight requirements, she whirled on the broom to scream at him again, went pale, and dropped like a stone.

So of course Sebek had to dive after her. And pluck her from the air to keep her from crash landing. And... huh. She's certainly clingy. And why does he smell roses??

He lowers his broom to the ground, holding onto her with one arm, and a red ribbon flutters to the ground after them. He looks down at her, her hair loose and windblown instead of the tight bun he'd been tapping impatiently all day.

And for the first time, he sees a smile cross those ridiculous red lips.

It wasn't unpleasant.

[la-venz-a]

My oc in the Persona 5 Tactica style!

[knight-commander]

OCKISS WEEK - DAY THREE

Siavash & Emery

this one definitely fits the prompt “rain” 😌 i originally had something else written for these too but after the post from @dujour13 yesterday I just had to do this. It got a little out of hand. Sorry :3c

If Siavash knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t answer the door.

That was Emery’s hope, because a part of him was terrified of what would happen if it did swing open and he had to look Sia in the eyes. Had he cut his hair? Changed his style? Would he smell the same? A few months could change an entire life, and he’d been gone for seven of them.

The rain hadn’t stopped for days, and Emery was soaked to the bone, because neither had he. He had pushed Mánath further than ever before to make it to Siavash’s door, and now that he was there, he couldn’t work up the nerve to walk up the steps.

What was a promise to wait? Was it worth anything? Doubts flitted across his mind, and then guilt swiftly followed. He shouldn’t be accusing Siavash of anything; he was the one who had left, after all. Even after being asked not to. He was the one who should be left out in the rain.

But Tiger was bundled in his arms, and so was a poorly salvaged bouquet of sodden flowers, and at least for their sakes, he had to give this a try. Emery squared his shoulders, the weight of his armor bearing down on him, and walked up the three stone steps.

The knock was gentler than he intended. Cowardly. He hoped Siavash didn’t hear it and so that he could chalk this up to a failed attempt that they could mutually walk away from, and he could just turn around and spare Sia the—

The door swung open.

Bleary-eyed Siavash stood there, rubbing idly at his face as he held the door ajar. A flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder caused Tiger to leap from Emery’s arms, rushing inside to warmth before either of them had a chance to react. Sheepishly, Emery looked back up at Siavash.

Gods, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that even after seven months, Siavash was just as beautiful as he remembered. Sleepy, confused, and wearing a mismatched shirt and pants from being disturbed, but beautiful all the same. His blond hair was tousled, his lips pursed into something near to a pout.

“Emery?” Sia’s voice was rough from sleep, but he could still hear that honey-smooth purr he’d fallen in love with. “What are you doing here?”

Panic began to set in again. “I-I know it’s the middle of the might, but I—“

“You’re soaking wet,” Siavash cut him off. Emery stuttered over the rest of his sentence as Sia wrapped him in some coat he kept hanging by the door and dragged him inside. Emery was pretty sure the coat was worth more than he was, but he didn’t say that out loud, either. “And you’re freezing. We need to get you out of your armor.”

“It’s only some rain,” Emery protested, but the warmth of Siavash’s home left him shivering in comparison to the cold and wet he had dragged in from outside.

It wasn’t long before Siavash had Emery sitting warm and dry by the fire, dressed in some loose cotton clothes and wrapped up in the fluffiest blanket that the bard could find. He gratefully accepted the cup of tea that was offered to him—lavender and chamomile, his favorite—and found himself pleasantly surprised when Siavash settled in next to him on the floor, comfortable as if no time had passed at all.

Emery couldn’t resist pressing up against Siavash in return.

“Now,” Sia broke the silence, carefully, in a tone Emery knew meant that he was about to test the waters. “You know I love to see you, Emery, but it is the middle of the night.”

“I am aware,” Emery said between nervous sips of his tea. “I hadn’t intended to intrude upon your sleep in this way. I just rode straight from Cheliax, and I didn’t think I would hit the storm, or that it would be so late, and—“

“Emery.” Siavash brushed his hand across his cheek, and he raised his head to meet Sia’s eyes. “You weren’t due to be on leave for another three months. You said that in your last letter.”

Tell him the truth! Tell him you were wrong!

Emery parsed his tongue across his lips and glanced away. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Is that all?”

“…No,” he sighed, shoulders heaving with the effort. Although he tilted his cheek into Sia’s touch, he closed his eyes rather than look him in the eyes again. “I… I left. I took them up on the honorable discharge they’d offered at the end of the Crusade, stayed to sort out the paperwork, and left as soon as it was official.”

Emery could feel Siavash’s thumb brush gently across his cheek, but fear kept his eyes shut.

“You… did?” Siavash asked. “When it was first offered, you were adamant that you wanted to stay with the Order of the Pyre.”

Emery made sure he turned his face away from Siavash before he opened his eyes; he stared ponderously into the fire instead. When he raised his hand, he could see the years of accumulated burns from his Reckonings scarred all along his forearm. For the first time in a long time, there was no compulsion to hold himself aloft over the flames.

“I was wrong,” he said softly. “I was wrong, and you were right. I was going back to what was familiar because I was scared. Scared of… everything, I guess. Everything being all… different. I don’t know. It’s hard to say.”

Emery felt warm arms shift around him and pull him close, and he was barely able to slide his cup onto the nearby table. He looked up to see Siavash beaming down at him, and it was so infectious and familiar and gods he missed it so much that he couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sia murmured. “I understand. And I’m just glad that you’re here—soaking wet at my doorstep or otherwise.”

“You’re not funny,” Emery said through a mirthful chuckle. “Poor Tiger was more wet than I was.” The cat in question had curled up in the plush chair nearby, purring louder than the thunder outside.

“But you didn’t see you,” Siavash countered, flicking Emery’s chin up with a gentle tap of his finger. He leaned in. “Hair all stuck to your face, eyes all wide. You looked like a drowned rat.”

“You think you’re charming?” Emery asked softly, closing the distance between them. Tea forgotten on the table with the sodden flowers, he braced his hand against Siavash’s chest as their lips met. Sia was as warm and sweet as he remembered, and his reciprocation was delicate, as if he might scare Emery off.

Siavash’s touch traced down his arm before clasping his free hand, and he was the one to pull away from the kiss first. Emery could’ve gotten lost in his eyes if it weren’t for the furrow of his brow.

“Does this mean you’re staying?” Siavash asked.

“If you’ll have me,” Emery said. “I know it’s not the proper way, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night. I thought the flowers might endear you to the thought of letting me stay, at least just for one—“ He found himself cut off as Siavash raised his hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“I missed you,” Siavash said. “And your smile.”

Emery could feel his heart pounding uselessly against his ribs, could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, combating the dark circles under his eyes. He looked away, still grinning.

He remembered the first time Siavash had kissed him like that—it felt like a lifetime ago in those distant stables. Emery still harbored the same hopes deep inside, and Sia’s eyes still harbored that same addictive adoration that would make anyone’s insides jump.

“I missed you, too. More than anything else,” he said. “I don’t know what is in store for me now. Now that I’m not… knight-commander, now that my father is dead. Whatever it is, though, I want it to be with you.”

Suddenly his world spun, and Emery found himself on his back, cushioned between Siavash and the soft blanket underneath him. He laughed, watching the dark mirth of Sia’s eyes reflect the firelight.

“What are you doing, hm?” He asked, but Sia’s teasing kisses upon his hand and down his scarred wrist didn’t stop.

Siavash paused in his kisses just long enough to answer.

“Making up for lost time. No better time to start than now.”

“Won’t we have plenty of time for that?” Emery asked, but his voice softened with a sigh. Siavash pressed kiss after kiss down to his elbow before switching to the other arm, granting it the same treatment.

He wasn’t sure when his shirt came off or when one of his hands got tangled in the silken strands of Siavash’s hair, but Emery keened softly when Sia’s lips found their way to add a warm kiss atop the scar that split down the center of his chest. A final Reckoning, of sorts. His tangled hand tightened into a fist, and he heard Siavash’s hearty laugh echo in the space between their warm bodies.

Siavash lifted his head up just enough to peer at him; cast against the golden firelight, Emery knew he had made the right choice. No pyre could ever come close to being so beautiful.

He didn’t know what the morning would bring. As Siavash pressed their lips together once more, it was the first time that Emery felt peace with plunging into the unknown. As long as he had Sia there by his side, he could face anything.

[sakuramidnight15]

Rank Captains Revamped

This was by surprised of speed-running-

[sialaterornever]

ive been waiting in a chick fil a for my dad for more than an hour now for his allergy shots have a doodle of my wol & sol 1st playthrough chars :)

catarina's just a beanslinger that totally didn't become the necromancer and cowrrupted on accident. yup.

catsby is just a goober cheeze wizard that runs the speakeasy. normal sol playthrough, i didnt do anything funky :D

[letsgetonwithit]

quick drawing of my lavellan because i've had da:i on the brain a lot lately and i miss her

ft. her new vallaslin design (which i’m sure isn’t lore friendly, but oh well) + her enchanted birch tree arm (post-trespasser) that grows autumn leaves, moss and mushrooms from time to time 🥺 🍄

[ellfiend]

[simpforblindguy]

MC and Ominis as Madoka Magica characters, because the anime similar to the MC story🗣🗣

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Thirty-Eight — Prognosis

I think those were the worst parts of it all; the waiting. That silence that left way too much time for the thoughts to get louder. Sitting on the stiff examination bed in a hospital gown felt more suffocating than a noose, the center of a horrible sort of attention.

4.5 k words | 15-20 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Hospital, procedures, medical events

⚠️AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another chapter, another friend! How could I not let the world's best doctor be a part of this tale, especially when the RowlandRoweWhatever family needs someone with a special set of skills they can't get at just any ol' hospital? Thank you @infamoussparks for letting me steal your girl and show off her brilliant skillset, the inaugural first outreach towards the people who make this fandom fantastic.

I sat up as the patient couch pulled out of the scan machine, pulling the earplugs out of my ears and opening my jaws to force a pop. 

Dad had nearly blown a gasket when Dr. Sims explained what they wanted to do on Monday—or, moreso, how they wanted to do the imaging for it. A dose of diluted raythium with a dye in it for tracing the conducrine and every protein it produced in the time I was in there. “You want to put that stuff in my daughter?” Dad demanded, “A day after we just figured out how dangerous this shit is?”

Dr. Sims did his best to try and placate Dad’s worry, telling him it wasn’t the same. “It’s at least not gonna cause anything bad,” he assured him, “But it’s the only way to activate the proteins in her to observe them,” 

Dad eventually relented, letting Dr. Sims whisk me away as he stayed back with Brent; he wasn’t allowed in the radiology department while I was getting an MRI just in case the magnet became too attracted to his steel. 

“You did great, Jean,” Aunt Sia assured me with a low voice as I slipped off of the patient couch, Dr. Sims wheeling in a wheelchair. They wouldn’t let me walk, and I hated it—I wasn’t crippled, just broken. 

Didn’t matter—either way, I was pushed through the hall like some spectacle. 

Dad pushed off from his place leaned against the wall when the door to the exam room opened, rushing to meet me as Aunt Sia wheeled me in. He glanced down at me, smile stressed and forced, before looking up at Dr. Sims. “Get what you need?” he asked.

Dr. Sims nodded, taking the chair back from Aunt Sia. “Yeah. I’ll be back with the specialist in a bit.”

And there we were, caught in another waiting lull. 

I think those were the worst parts of it all; the waiting. That silence that left way too much time for the thoughts to get louder. Sitting on the stiff examination bed in a hospital gown felt more suffocating than a noose, the center of a horrible sort of attention. It didn’t help that they all had quickly shifted back to treating me like broken glass; Brent was silent and blankly watching me, seeming to examine every move, Dad was still acting as if I’d drop dead any second, and Aunt Sia insisted on coming. Said she wanted to support me. And I mean, sure, I was thankful that they cared…but it was suffocating. Demeaning. Even if that’s not how they meant it, it’s how it felt. 

There was a swift knock on the door, and Dad didn’t even finish saying something about coming in before the door opened—and the sharp click of heels against the hickory floor. 

The person that walked in most definitely wasn’t Dr. Sims. Her red hair was more natural auburn than Aunt Sia’s bright red, shoved away in a messy bun that somehow looked like it took twenty minutes to set. There was one fancy silver pen sticking out of it and that somehow looked deliberate too. If someone asked me to picture a ‘confident scholar,’ it’d probably be someone like her; white blouse, black pants, eyeliner that looked sharp enough to prick my finger for a blood sample. The lab coat swayed behind her as she walked confidently into the room, Dr. Sims closing the door. 

But her smile was warm and welcoming as she looked over the room, greeting, “Hello!” She regarded me first, smiling, “I’m Dr. Hutch—you must be Jean.” 

I smiled back sheepishly as Dr. Hutch’s eyes moved to Dad, something in them registering. “You must be Mr…Rowland? Rowe?” 

Dad chuffed, “I’m not even sure, at this rate,” 

Dr. Hutch accepted his admittance with grace, offering a hand to shake. Dr. Sims turned just as Dad stood, eyes widening when he moved to share the doctor’s hand—and with a shimmering sound and a flash of blue, he was across the room in an instant, gripping Dad’s wrist and yanking it upwards away from Dr. Hutch.

“You don’t wanna do that, D,” Dr. Sims warned, looking at Dad knowingly. The realization struck me almost immediately. 

She was a Conduit. 

Brent seemed to come to the same conclusion, eyebrows shooting up as he glanced at me. “Right, sorry.” Dad said, letting his hand fall. 

Dr. Hutch smiled, “I’ll go with Rowe, then,” she said simply, her own going to rest on her hip. She looked between Dad and I, getting right down to business. “I’m a certified genetic counselor, and I’m here to run one last diagnostic on Jean before we go over your test results—and what I found out from what you sent me,” she added, looking over her shoulder at Dr. Sims. 

I looked her over; nice outfit, a lab coat, and…quite literally nothing else. She made no move to pull anything out of the pockets on her coat, either. Hadn’t we established there was nothing wrong with my DNA? Why was there a genetic counselor here? Dad seemed to think the same, because he asked, “What sort of diagnostic?”

“I want to observe her health on the cellular level,” Dr. Hutch informed him. “It would give us a better idea of what could possibly be the problem here.”

“Do you—” I hesitated, not even sure how to ask what I wanted to ask. “Do you have to draw blood?”

Yeah, that’d have to do.

Dr. Hutch smiled gently, shaking her head once. “No. I’d just need about ten seconds of your time, and your hands.” 

My brow furrowed; my hands? How was she going to examine me with those? Was she gonna palm read her way to my diagnosis? I glanced over at Dad, who looked intrigued more than confused. “Alright,” he said simply, giving consent for whatever procedure she had in mind. 

Dr. Hutch nodded, beginning to roll up her sleeves before asking, “May I see your hands please, Jean?” I hesitated, looking at the cast on my right arm, and Dr. Hutch seemed to understand my concern, placating it with, “Don’t worry—just your fingers are fine.”

She brought her own hands out in a gentle show of faith, a soft coax of her fingers convincing me to lay mine in hers. Her manicured nails clicked gently against my cast as her hands closed over mine, and I could just barely hear her hum to herself as the seconds ticked by. 

Dr. Hutch spent the first few of those ten seconds looking down at where our hands met, but once she passed five, she looked up, eyes trailing along my body as she began to look for something. It was there that I saw it; her eyes were this rich green with golden flecks around her pupil, but the longer the time passed, the brighter that yellow got. 

She was using her power on me. 

Her brow furrowed further as she went from looking at me to around me, like she was searching for something in the air. Her counting progressed further, past seven, and she began to stare at specific spots like she was deciphering hieroglyphics, trying to understand something more than any of us could fathom. 

“...ten.” She breathed. She glanced over at Dr. Sims and shook her head before letting go of the hand in a cast to gently pat the back of my other one before setting it in my lap, moving away to stand by Dr. Sims once more. 

Dr. Sims crossed his arms, looking down at the floor for a moment before saying, “Thank you, Dr. Hutch.” 

Neither of them seemed happy. 

I think everyone else caught on to the sudden shift in tone in the room as well; Aunt Sia moved a bit closer, and her hand came to my back, rubbing it gently. Dad moved two steps to close the gap between us to put his hand on my knee, and Brent’s brow furrowed as he watched them both move. 

Dr. Hutch sighed hard before looking up at Dad. “I’d like to clarify, before we begin, that my power is magnification,” Dr. Hutch began. “I can essentially narrow in on the gene structure of any person and pick apart their DNA sequence just by ten seconds of contact, much like how an electron microscope functions when examining a blood sample. I prefer hand holding as it’s comforting and easy to mask with extended handshakes for those I simply have a hunch about. As I build up to ten seconds I can see the DNA sequence clearer and with that I can determine if anything is out of place or exists when it maybe shouldn’t. I’ve yet to find an instance where I’ve been wrong.”

Jeez, with a power like that, I don’t understand why we didn’t come here to begin with.

“So you’re sure you know what’s wrong with Jean?” Brent asked, looking at Dr. Hutch. 

“We had results before bringing in Dr. Hutch, however, she’s the best second opinion you could ask for. I wanted to make sure.” Dr. Sims said. He inhaled deep, looking like he was biting down on his cheek so roughly he was going to chew a hole straight through it. He looked between Dad and I, cutting right to the chase: “I’m diagnosing Jean with conducrinopathy.”

Dad’s grip on my knee tightened and his jaw tensed, and I swear to god he looked like he was about to start breaking down walls. “What’s…” I glanced at Dad before looking back at Dr. Sims. “What’s condu…that?”

Dr. Hutch took over the explanation, beginning with, “Well, your conducrine—between your shoulder blades, right about where she’s touching right now—is what gives you power. It produces rayacitins, the proteins that change this energy into your elemental conduvergence.”

Conduvergence—that was what they called the powers, right? Using a power was conduvergence. “Okay,” I hummed, nodding. But I didn’t understand; what did this have to do with what was wrong with me?

“A typical Conduit has a set amount of rayacitin proteins in their body, and when they’re running low, that causes that pain you feel in your shoulders.” Dr. Hutch continued, trying her best to dumb this down for me. “They’re also what influences other cells to heal faster. Less proteins, less power, slower healing. More, the opposite.”

Oh, okay. “So is my condushine—”

“Conducrine.” Dr. Sims interrupted. 

“Conducrine,” I corrected, looking back at Dr. Hutch. “Is it just not making enough proteins?”

She looked to Dr. Sims, who sat on my question for a moment. “Sort of.” he agreed hesitantly, head bouncing side to side gently like he was considering which way to go with his explanation. “Conducrinopathy is when the conducrine itself begins to dysfunction. Its protein output wanes, you’re correct. That’s probably the cause of your pain, currently. But it…I suppose the best way to understand exactly what happens is to consider it…a sort of organ failure.”

All my breath left in one huff, and it felt impossible to breathe in more. “What?” I whispered. 

“Your conducrine is in a manageable state right now,” Dr. Hutch interrupted. “But as the disease progresses, it will begin to produce corrupted proteins. Your power will…will turn on you.”

“Wait, like the old forced Conduits?” Brent cut in. He looked furious, but his anger wasn’t aimed at Dr. Hutch and Dr. Sims with his question. 

Dr. Sims nodded. “That’s the main instance we’ve seen conducrinopathy, yes. The conducrine is due to turn on a Conduit if it is forced to copy artificial proteins. It’s like using the wrong blood type in a transfusion. But it has happened to two Prime Conduits. A patient here, and—”

“Mom.” I looked at Dad. “That’s what happened, isn’t it? When she started looking gray a-and sick in the pictures. Her power was killing her.”

“We can’t assume that it was killing her,” Dr. Sims interrupted as Dad’s eyes fell and he stared at the floor, face void of any emotion. “But if we had to compare how she was to the data we have now, then…yes, she more than likely had the same condition.”

My fingers went to mess with my cast, and I couldn’t think of anything to ask. What the hell was I supposed to say? Cool, doc, thanks for the Conduit cancer diagnosis! I felt on the verge of a panic attack. 

Aunt Sia rubbed my shoulder like she was trying to ease the tension out of it, and that was enough to get me to regurgitate one of the thousands of thoughts running through my mind. “Can you cure it?” I asked, looking back at Dr. Sims and his partner with pleading eyes. 

Dr. Hutch looked down at the ground as Dr. Sims appeared to try and swallow back bile. “We…there’s no known cure yet, though in your situation, this has only happened to one other prime whose progression of illness could be followed. There are noted differences between the symptoms in primes versus forced Conduits, but we’re…these are uncharted waters. We don’t know what to expect.”

“What are the differences?” Dad finally asked, voice robotic. “What can we expect?”

Dr. Sims looked like he wanted to do anything but answer Dad’s questions. Like he hated being the bearer of bad news. “The pain and tenderness between the shoulderblades is common. That will probably be the most persistent symptom. However the amount of healthy rayacitin proteins in her body will…they won’t be replaced by healthy ones. The damaged cells will spread further instead, and it’ll…her powers will start getting weaker. Maybe disappear entirely. The healing is usually the first to go.”

Dr. Sims looked at the ground and scuffed his shoe on the wood before adding, “We don’t know how her power will turn on her, either. That will change the status of her condition from manageable to severe more than anything else. And…between Fetch, and the other prime Conduit we’ve observed, decline is…faster in prime Conduits. The way a forced Conduit is already stunted in power is enough to delay it significantly more than a prime, especially when considering how much weaker they are.”

“And you’re sure it’s this?” He asked, looking between the doctors. His eyes settled on Dr. Hutch. “How can you be positive?”

Dr. Hutch was trying her best to keep her face neutral. “When using my powers, I can see this aural ring around people. I can tell if they have the gene, if they’re activated—your daughter has both signs. But there is also something wrong with the aura on her. It’s turning black. The only other times I’ve seen that is when I’ve run diagnostics for Dr. Sims upon his request.”

Dr. Sims shook off the discomfort of the moment, moving a step closer. “Delsin, I’m gonna be here every step of the way in case something happens,” he looked at me, “We’re going to make sure you’re, at minimum, comfortable.”

I hated how he phrased that. Comfortable? It didn’t sound like he was offering to just help me with pain, it sounded like there was more to the statement. A promise for there to be a comfortable end.

And I wasn’t a fool, I knew how this was going for all the old DUP agents; they were either all ill as could be, or slowly succumbing to their illness. His words sounded like he was offering me management if it came to that, too. 

Fuck. Fuck. Tears immediately began to pool in my eyes and it was hard to keep them away. No cure, no help, no idea what was going to happen. But I needed to know one thing: “Am I gonna die?” 

That was the wrong set of words to use; Brent immediately threw his hand back to hammer the side of it against the wall, the hit so hard plaster immediately caved under his fist. He pushed off and stalked away, brushing past Dr. Sims to the door and throwing it open, disappearing into the hall. 

Dad sighed, head falling. “Sia, can you—”

“‘Course,” she said, patting my shoulder gently before leaving the room, heeled combat boots echoing loudly as she jogged to catch up to him. 

The silence in the room truly was deafening, the air thick as the remaining four of us grappled with what just happened. Everything felt like it was slipping away; the color in the blue hospital gown I had on, the noise of the cars on the street outside. This was it. I really was broken. 

And there was no way to fix it. 

Dad squeezed my knee three times, and suddenly I was shot back to when I was a little girl trying to sit through the scariest moment of her life: vaccine day at the doctors. Me sitting at the end of an uncomfortable bed just like this, gripping the edge for dear life as Dad sat across from me, a hand on my knee. Three reassuring squeezes. I love you. 

Took me far too long to realize he’d do it when the needle went in and I’d miss the scariest part of the whole event. 

Now he was trying to reassure me yet again, forcing a deep breath into his chest as he lifted his head, looking at Dr. Sims. “This didn’t start happening to Jean till that fight with Augustine,” he began. “Conducrinopathy doesn’t happen to just anyone. Something caused this.” 

Dr. Sims sighed. “Delsin, her powers just manifested. We truly don’t know if this can be an inheritable condition or not.” 

“Well,” Dr. Hutch held up a finger. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that yet, either.” 

Both Dad and Dr. Sims shot her a confused look. Dr. Hutch didn’t bother waiting for one of them to interrogate her, instead digging into the pocket of her lab coat and pulling out three blood collection tubes full of anything but blood. “I analyzed the two samples you sent, Eugene. And your friend downstairs passed a third to me earlier this morning.” 

Dad immediately bristled. “We don’t have another friend here,” he said, guarded. 

Dr. Hutch cocked her head to the side, concern on her face. “You don’t?” 

“What did they look like?” Dr. Sims interrupted. Dad’s hand tensed on my knee. 

“Short, wide set. Wore sunglasses inside for some reason which I’m…” she drew off. “Now I’m worried was to disguise himself.” 

I knew someone that matched that description exactly, but it wasn’t someone with a hidden agenda. “That’s Zeke,” I forced myself to murmur. My voice didn’t sound like mine. It didn’t even feel like I was talking. Was this what dissociation felt like? Feeling like I was witnessing the room from outside the window to the right? 

Dad scowled…but something in his expression shifted. “He brought you something to analyze?” He asked Dr. Hutch, surprised Zeke even cared. 

“He did,” she confirmed, holding up a collection vial that had black liquid in it that turned iridescent with a deep green where light hit it. I knew that liquid—that’s what Zeke took from the First Sons’ base in New Marais. “Said he hoped it would help me find answers for Jean.” 

Dr. Sims looked at Dad, who almost looked remorseful in a way before blinking a few times, inhaling. “And what did you find?” he asked. 

“Well, from what I understand, these two samples were acquired in New Marais,” Dr. Hutch said, shifting the samples in her hands so she could hold a pair up to the light. “I examined their properties and their aural signatures, and they’re certainly interesting. To save you the technical terms, these two samples almost replicate poison in a way. This one—” she pointed to the black and dark green liquid, “—the poison itself while this contained the cells it was affecting. However instead of killing the cells, they seemed to mutate them. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Dad went on to tell Dr. Hutch what we saw when underground, and how we found files that suggested the creepy crawlies in the First Sons’ basement were Conduits turned creatures. She reacted with horror in the right parts of the tale, but her eyes were alight with a curiosity that she couldn’t hide well at all. “I didn’t know that was possible,” she said. “I knew there were instances of monsters in New Marais but never really followed up on why.” 

“We were worried, with it corrupting Conduits, that it could be what happened to Jean,” Dad finished. 

Dr. Hutch shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the case. Where these two are similar, the one from Salmon Bay is completely different.” She stored away the two vials in her lab coat and held the one full of tar to Dr. Sims, who took it without hesitation. “It matches the signature of every case of conducrinopathy I’ve seen—including Jean’s. It has the same…darkness to it, but at a strength that made it nearly impossible to read without feeling ill after.” She glanced between Dad and I. “It’s like it’s emitting something far more dangerous than a regular Conduit can handle.”

Dad stood, hand leaving my knee to step forward and take the vial from Dr. Sims’ outstretched hand. “So this tar is what caused Jean’s sickness?”

“She was injected with it, correct?” Dr. Hutch asked. 

Dad motioned to my leg hanging over the edge of the bed. “Augustine’s concrete had this tar on it when she managed to pierce Jean’s leg,” he informed her.

The scarring and spider veins on my left leg hadn’t faded at all in the last week. The raised scars were still an angry red and brown, the veins alight like they were lightning with how bright the blue was against my legs. Dr. Sims took a few steps forward, motioning for me to bring my leg up and hooking his hand behind my calf so he could examine it closer. “I need to get this and the break checked on, next,” I could hear him mutter to himself like he was making a checklist. 

Dr. Hutch joined Dr. Sims, looking at my injury from over his shoulder. “It looks like it attempted healing,” she observed. 

“If you’re right, and that tar caused her sickness, could this be when the conducrinopathy started happening?” Dad asked, pointing to my scars. “They’re healed wrong because it was running out of time?” 

Dr. Sims’ brow furrowed. “The results did come back abnormal,” he muttered. He turned my shin lightly and then looked up. “Knowing the tar is practically the same as the illness, I wouldn’t be surprised if so.”

Dad stared at my scarring for a long time, long enough for Dr. Hutch to clear her throat awkwardly and say, “I’m sorry for bringing bad news. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

Dr. Sims sighed. “We’ll be visiting palliative care later today for the patient, if you’d be willing to meet us there.”

“Of course.” 

Dr. Hutch gave me a nod before turning on her heels and leaving the room, the sound of the door as it latched shut behind her feeling like a gavel strike of a death sentence. Dad, still staring at my leg, shook his head and brought a hand up to rub against his face. “Someone did this.” He said. 

“Del—”

“If that tar matches what’s wrong with Jean, then Augustine caused this. I don’t know if it’s because she got a new power, or somehow fucked with her old one—”

“Delsin—”

“But her power caused organ failure.” Dad finished with a stressed voice, and I wasn’t sure if it was to talk over Dr. Sims or simply because he was stressed. “We need to find out how she got the ability.” 

Dr. Sims shifted on his feet, thinking. “We can’t be sure that it’s not something that Augustine simply developed,” he warned. 

Dad shook his head. “I don’t believe that. Archangel helped Augustine. They tried finishing what she couldn’t do! She had to have gotten this power from somewhere.”

“I understand that, but you have to realize—this is the first time we’ve seen a situation like this with its cause. The forced Conduits develop conducrinopathy naturally, and we don’t know how the other two instances of this happened in primes—“ 

“But we know it’s not normal.” Dad retorted. “What happened to Abbs? What’s happening to Jean? Shouldn’t be a thing.” 

There were three sharp raps on the door and Aunt Sia returned, looking between Dad and Dr. Sims as the latter refused to let his gaze wander. “Archangel did something to make this happen, it was probably the plan the entire time—just for me. But this is some sort of power, right?”

“I’m not sure—“ Dr. Sims tried saying as Dad rambled on.

“—so we just need the power to fix it. Only way it’s coming out is the same way it went in.” 

“Delsin, this isn’t like then. We don’t know where the power came from or if it’s something new at all.” Dr. Sims finally put enough power into his voice to interrupt. “This is the only time it’s happened like this. For all we know, with the old DUP soldiers? It could simply be because Augustine was involved.” 

Dad opened his mouth to say something else when Aunt Sia cleared her throat loudly and pointedly, looking at Dad. “Delsin, I think you should go talk to Brent.” 

Dad blinked. “But—“ 

“Just a small talk, then we’ll finish what we came here for.” Aunt Sia turned to Dr. Sims. “Is there anything else we need to do for Jean? She still has some stitches, do they need to be removed?”

Dr. Sims looked confused and yet thankful for the topic change. “Yeah I-I want to get a general check up on her, but we’d need a more qualified doctor.” 

“Alright, then why don’t you go see who you can find while Delsin talks to Brent?” Aunt Sia asked the men, looking at them expectantly. 

They muttered some sort of agreement as Aunt Sia herded around their attention, the two eventually leaving me alone in the room with her. She stepped up to the edge of the exam table I was sitting on, right between my legs, and moved to cup my face, her expression solemn. “Oh Jean,” she murmured, “I’m sorry.” 

She pulled me into a hug and it was like everything snapped back to my center like a rubber band ball; I was no longer witnessing this from the outside, but fully trapped within the body betraying me, the ache in my back reminding me of the diagnosis. “I’m scared,” I admitted to her, voice cracking. 

“I know,” she replied almost immediately. “This has to be so scary for you. But you heard how quick your father was to begin trying to think of solutions,” she pulled away to look at me. She was right: Dad was always the problem solver. I wasn’t sure if this was something he could fix, though. “We’ll take this a day at a time, but you won’t be alone.”

Want more of Dr. Hutch? Check out Feth’s inFAMOUS: Sparks!

Set 7 years after the good karma ending of inFAMOUS: Second Son, join friends new and old as they navigate what it really means to be a part of the Second Age.

A perfect blend of OC and OG, Feth knows all things inFAMOUS like the back of her hand—for good reason ;). I’m a sucker for a good after story, for the butterfly effect of every choice made in canon to change something in their future, and Feth captures that perfect (and realistic) after. Rosa is one of many amazing new friends the original trio make as they take on foes old and new.