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#caeli oc
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A fairy in the forest 💕
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creppersfunpalooza · 11 days
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i love how nobody knows my extensive faerie lore except for like 1 person and even they only know like a third of it. i need more faerie ocs since i only have like 3 or 4
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varlinhoes · 7 months
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everyone look at my cringe wolnpc kids
Ft. HaurcheWoL (blue hair ele), ZenosWoL (black hair and blond elezens) and DerykWoL (hyurs) 🤭
names r in tags in order of the 1st pic…
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middlepath · 4 months
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...You know what. Yeah I'll post this too. Alternate text version of this piece
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cdrart · 5 months
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And with this that's the last sketch I can offer for now as after this I haven't drawn anything... x'D Idk when I will have the willpower to draw again, but hopefully soon. Thanks to @toradhart for the help with the wolves.
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juice-enjoyer · 2 months
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caelis is finally real
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swtorpadawan · 1 year
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Welp, not exactly one NPC, but I will still ask. What do you think happened with House Thul and their leader on Alderaan
Thank you for asking me this! Sorry it took me awhile to get to it!
I have several head-canons already. But here's the quick breakdown:
Lord Jorad Sindarus Thul (the rather inept, passive leader of House Thul during the Empire-side world missions) and a significant chunk of House Thul's leadership are killed during the Zakuulan invasion. Although Thul is cut off from the Empire's support, the same can be said for Organa and the Republic. As we see in the Star Fortress mission to Alderaan, the situation there is bad and stagnant, with a lack of organization.
Once the Star Fortress - and the threat of Zakuul - are removed, things start to change.
The Alliance negotiates a deal with Acina that the Empire will suspend support to Thul. (The condition being that they'll also keep Organa from rearming through the Republic.)
The Alliance then begins a number of relief missions to Alderaan, helping to stabilize the political situation.
Eventually, and it takes a few years, the Alliance essentially plays "kingmaker" - first for House Thul, then later for the actual throne of Alderaan itself.
Enter Duke Horis Thul.
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Horis Thul remembers Corellan well; after all, Corellan saved the Duke from Aleyna Hark years before during the Desolator crisis. He was already agreeable to peace negotiations; only the Zakuulan subjugation held up the process.
It takes a LOT of work, with Ulannium Kaarz and Vector Hyllus doing much of the negotiations. But eventually, Horis is one of the signatories of a new Treaty of Alderaan, bringing decades of civil war to a close. (Naturally, House Thul's exile is officially ended by this treaty.)
Thank you for the ask!
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shuruzy · 2 years
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Ear-wigglin’
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foeniculi--vulpes · 2 years
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yeah it's ALWAYS "idm oc x canon but it's not really my thing lol" until that one oc x canon ship that grips you by the throat and slams you across multiple walls
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middlepath · 4 months
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I CAN'T FIGHT THE PRESSURE!
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Fan art for a friend OC I am very normal about 👍
Song referenced is Black Cat by Starlight Mints!
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cdrart · 5 months
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Final OC design I did + their tattoos. The snake in the big tattoo belongs to @toradhart and she was kind enough to give it to me for editing purposes. (Not that I'm gonna sell any of these anyway)
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juice-enjoyer · 2 months
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coughign up blood
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Dear Ajax
i don't even GO here anymore.
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The office in the bank was covered in a thin layer of dust. He hadn’t been back in some time, his usually meticulously cleaned office had fallen into disarray without his constant vigilance. Khris had no reason to clean the office either, they did all their work from their home tucked away somewhere within the harbour. He ran his fingers along one of the bookshelves, dust collecting on his gloved fingers.
“If I were the infamous tenth harbinger where would I keep my reports…”
Dull blue eyes flicked to the desk in the dark back of the room, stepping away from the bookshelf, he stepped closer to the desk. There was an outgoing and incoming bin, the incoming bin was empty, also covered in dust. He flipped through the folders in the outgoing bin, blowing some dust off of files he knew the man would be pissed didn’t get sent out.
But none were the reports he needed.
Ajax dropped the folders back in the bin, coughing when dust filled his nose. He waved his hand in front of his face, moving around the desk to sit on the man’s chair. He leaned back, sinking into the fancy leather. From this position, he took into account the man’s height. He was smaller than Ajax, he opened the left middle drawer. Ajax took the papers out of the drawer, flipping through them. 
“Finally..” The harbinger exhaled, his smile spreading over his face as he found the report the Tsaritsa had asked him to recover. He quickly read the rest of the information on the page, a ginger eyebrow raising at the words. A report on the events of Liyue from what seemed like forever ago. Why did she want this?
Also didn’t he already send his report to her on what transpired? Ajax was confused, but it wasn’t his job to ask questions. He set the paper aside and put the other ones back in the middle drawer. But his curiosity got the best of him, he opened the rest of the drawers. Top left was writing utensils and ink, bottom left contained the forged seals sans writing.
Ajax turned his attention to the right drawers, opening the top one revealed more ink, but coloured and fancy. He closed the drawer, so boring. The middle drawer contained several leather bound books. He took one out, flipping it open. The ginger tilted his head in confusion, the papers were bare. He put it back.
He pulled open the last drawer on the bottom, surprised to find it empty. He’d sworn he had once seen the man put something in the drawer. Ajax pushed the chair back, sliding off it and onto his knees on the floor. He had to bend under the desk somewhat, eyeing the drawer with a meticulous eye. Like his.
Ajax smacked the bottom of the drawer, the inside jumped, revealing a false bottom. “Heh, sneaky.” He carefully lifted the false bottom. There was a button inside and only a button. Ajax lifted his head, looking around the dusty, dark, and empty office. He then did the logical thing, he pushed the button.
His head snapped up when one of the bookshelves split open nearby. Ajax scrambled to his feet, cursing softly when he hit his head on the way up. With one hand on his head, he made his way to the moving shelf. He used his free hand to pry open one of the shelves further, revealing an empty wall.
Why had he built something so elaborate? When did he have the time?
Ajax rapped his knuckles against the wall, eyebrows furrowing when it sounded solid. He kept knocking in different areas, growing increasingly confused by the apparent uselessness to it all. Until he hit a perfect spot, hollow. Not only hollow, but the wall aggressively slid down, revealing a small locked safe set within the hollow section of the cranny.
He tried the man’s birthday first. Nothing.
The day he joined the Harbingers? Nothing.
He exhaled, crossing his arms as he looked at the safe. He blinked, once, twice.. Ajax reached out, inputting his own birthdate. The safe clicked open softly, the door swinging open in front of him. Inside there were stacks of parchment. He reached out, carefully pulling the papers from within. He stepped backwards back into the room, squinting at the words in the quickly dimming room. 
The sun was beginning to set outside the only window and it caused him to struggle to read. Ajax sighed, setting the papers on the desk. He then carefully lifted the glass of the oil lantern, setting it aside, he struck a match to light the lantern, covering it once more. He set the man’s matches aside, picking up the papers once more as he sat on the edge of the desk. He recognised the man’s unique handwriting. The date was smudged, however.
I have recently begun to obtain more of my memories again. My team tells me I’ve lost several months this time. At least it isn’t years. Even if I cannot remember those, either. Inessa is sure I will regain those memories with time. She tells me of the things that are important to me, my brother, my mission, my team, him. 
I ask for more details, but she hesitates. ‘You told me to let you piece it together.’ She tells me. I am unsure why the former me instructed this. A memory I have no access to. Perhaps it was safer that way, being the only one who has to maintain what remains of my memory. 
Did I do it to protect my team? Myself? What of this brother they speak of whose face I only know from the mirrors I dare not look at? Or is it to protect my colleague who isn’t my colleague? He cried when he’d heard. But he did not answer my questions. It would seem whoever I had previously chosen to be was intent on secrecy. 
I can only assume it was done to protect those around me. For if I no longer remember, I failed to protect myself. There is only one option remaining. 
Now the question remains, who am I supposed to be? There are old scars on my body, ones that speak of a story I can only remember in flashes. A forged tool, made of flesh instead of iron. A marionette, they say. Is my title so truly literal? Do I live to serve a leader willing to meld those around her? 
Why would I stand for this? 
Apparently it is good that I ask these questions. That I’m already speculating my position. 
Maxim only smiles when I ask him questions. He shakes his head, just like Inessa, he cannot answer me. ‘At least you’re already questioning.’ He leaves it at that. Decord looks at me with a look in his eye I cannot place, he is hard to observe, befitting of a ghost. 
I have their files, readily available, I know who they are, I know everything about them. Why they are in the position that they are.
But as for me? 
There have been no notes left, none that I can find anyway. It would seem I was very good at hiding my intentions.
And yet, I find myself finding it difficult to obtain knowledge on myself. I keep being drawn to Tartaglia. As if I know more about him than I can remember, I must, we are colleagues, we live together, he showed me my room. But I found orange hair on my pillows and clothes that do not fit me on the floor. 
Are we more? I keep losing my questions in his eyes. It’s ridiculous, I am supposed to be a puppet, bent and unfeeling. But I am not. Her methods are beginning to falter. Even as I write this note, to remind myself, I am starting to remember. 
Then, if she wishes to steal my memories from me once more. I will have this to remind me of who I am, who I am supposed to be. But I must make sure that nobody can find them. 
Ajax lowered his hands, looked away from the papers, from the lines written on the pages. This was two months after the last time he was reprogrammed. Ajax remembered. He sniffled, surprising himself. He set the papers down on the desk beside him, quickly wiping his face on his sleeve. 
There were hundreds of pages more. Ajax swallowed thickly, his throat hurt, his eyes burned. When was the last time he cried? He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to remember. The man exhaled shakily, standing up on shaky legs. He’d done everything he could do in order to remember. 
He chewed the inside of his cheek as he began to arrange the room back to the way it was. He closed the false wall, closed the bookshelves, put the false bottom back in, shut all the drawers. He even turned out the lantern. But he kept the letters. Ajax folded them carefully in half, tucking them somewhere within his jacket. 
Ajax knew of somebody who could stand to read these letters once more. But this time, not to remember. This time, perhaps, he could glean from them his position. Or, the position he knew Sulien was ready to forsake. Even if Sulien lied to him, to protect him. Ajax knew it was all to protect him. It always was. Martyr.
Ajax grabbed the report too, quietly leaving the man’s office. 
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southernbxlle · 10 months
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The poet dances around their home as music plays in the gramophone they have in their living room. A soft yet dramatic tune filling the voids of the home they live in, they're swirling, jumping and hopping, completely lost in their own daydreams of dancing with someone, someone they love and adore as much as they adore the moon, its stars, and as much as they adore the poetry in their mind.
And so they dance, lost in their mind as the music wraps around them like a translucent veil filled with the most beautiful of colors, and the greatest of tales. They dance, completely oblivious to the world around them, yet completely aware of the sensation their body fills. And they smile, that small frog like smile that they always bear.
They're inspired, and dreams weave their way through their body.
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fedheadphone · 1 year
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pow
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shuruzy · 2 years
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WELL their name is Caelis
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