1, 12, 17 and 31 for the oc asks if youre up for it?
(questions from here)
oc page link for reference
1. Your first OC ever?
the oldest truly original OC i can really remember is named Aron, but she's been out of sight and out of mind for ages so i dug through some old files to see what her deal was. unfortunately i was like 10 and my writing was unorganized and cringe, but what i can gather here is that she was very headstrong, she had a minder/bodyguard, and her solution to most problems was punching them until they stopped being problems. kind of into it, might need to rework her and bring her to the modern age.
12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot
oh man. percy de riva (@/crossdressingdeath), my husband's special little guy Sauntar from DND (@/goldencruel), river becker OF COURSE (@/idlenight), amaris ingellvar (@/mournmage), WRYNN THORNE (@/jadeempire), etc etc. so many. i am blessed with many friends with many OCs to cherish.
17. Any OC OTPs?
answered before. im a romance writer at heart so all my guys come with guys who they fall stupidly in love with. of my purely original pairs, my big OTP is vali + davyn. they're literally made for each other but also they're just very good and i just keep coming back to them over and over.
31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)
spinning a wheel... DAVYN. okay lmao. davyn comes from a fantasy setting so social media is NOT a thing but if i were to pluck him out of his world and put him in a modern AU, davyn's blog would be a neutral beige + desaturated blue colour scheme and it'd be a super generic like, aesthetic/fashion blog. he'd follow discourse/politics/news blogs but he'd never reblog from them.
he has a vent sideblog under a completely different url so it can't be traced back and every few weeks he goes on a posting spree where he just unloads the circumstances of his personal life to a near-doxxing himself level. the sideblog has more followers than his main blog because it's like watching a car crash in slow motion.
Apollymi (Preferribly if her HEA is Savitar and hit 2 birds with a stone)
Simi (just because)
Davyn (because I can’t have him mourning Paris forever)
Ruyn Widowmaker (I need to know more about this guy so bad)
The complete Shadow of Fire spin-off (that considering the title of the next 2 DH novels refer to shadows, it seems that we’ll have the first book out soon-ish)
The final trilogy about Nick
Aeron
Caleb
and can’t forget about...
Thorn
Jaden
Jared
Savitar (like I said above, paired with Polly would be the ideal)
Years as a soldier had made Vali a painfully light sleeper. These days, it tended to be a curse. He was a long way from muddy battlefields, and well past the time where he needed to be this alert. Life in the palace was pleasantly boring, and waking up at every whistle of wind through a cracked window or footstep from a servant in the early morning just left him feeling tired all day.
Even so, the creak of a floorboard in the sitting chamber beyond has him waking to alertness quickly. Davyn is plastered to his back, skin on sweaty skin. The fire had long since burned out, but Vali had always run hot, and the blankets on the king's bed were thick and plentiful.
Another creak has him angling his head to listen more closely. A glance out the window shows it's too dark for it to be a servant coming through to start preparing for Davyn's morning routine, and it's too far into summer to bother with re-lighting the fire for warmth during the night, either. So who was out there?
He gently probes his elbow back into Davyn's ribs. "Davyn," he whispers. Predictably, nothing happens. He'd had the luxury of growing up inside the palace, born as the heir to a crown. Safety was second nature to him, guaranteed by the blood and sweat of others. He didn't wake up at the slightest noise, mind racing and telling him there was a threat just beyond the door, no matter how unlikely that was.
He elbows a little harder, prompting a displeased grunt from the man behind him. "Stop that," Davyn mumbles, barely awake. "Go back to sleep."
"Why would someone be in your rooms right now?" Vali asks, keeping his voice low enough that the canopy around the bed would keep it from traveling beyond the door.
"I'm asking myself the same thing. You're going to stop getting an invitation here if you wake me up all the time." Despite his words, his grip around Vali's waist tightens as he nuzzles his face into the back of his neck.
Whatever pithy reply that might have been sitting on Vali's tongue dies as the door opens soundlessly, and he slowly shifts to try to catch a glimpse.
His hopes that it was just a misguided servant are dashed as the darkened figure creeps around the room towards Davyn's side of the bed. The sliver of moonlight that made it through the window glints off the polished metal of a blade as they go, and Vali's instincts kick in fast.
Their positioning is awkward, but Vali is still strong enough to leverage his weight to flip Davyn over, putting himself between the would-be assassin and the king. The manhandling is enough to properly wake Davyn up, but his indignant cry is only background noise as Vali attempts to apprehend their assailant and untangle himself from the sheets.
If this were his own room, there would be a dagger in the bedside table, but it wasn't, so he has to make do with trying to guess where his opponent's hands are in the low-light. He whipps his hand out with a viper's speed, grabbing their off-hand in a vice grip to yank them down and try to knock them off balance. He's successful in that much, at least, but they're persistent, using the close quarters to swing their sword towards him.
And if he couldn't feel Davyn at his back, he would be able to duck down and out of the way. But as things stand, a prince-consort is worth a lot less than a king.
He shifts only enough to keep the stab from being immediately fatal, leaning into the blade where it punctures him below the ribs so he can reach out to the assassin's belt to grab the dagger hanging there. The pain is blinding, but his movements are familiar enough that instinct carries the short blade out of its sheathe and past the assassin's gorget, stabbing down into their neck and sending them stumbling backwards. The sword rips out of Vali's torso as they go, and he feels his blood gush out of the wound, hot against bare skin.
"Fuck," he hears behind him, and he's a little afraid to look. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. That's not—you're—Vali." His voice is a curious mix of sleep-thick and shaking with fear, and it's a combination Vali could have gone his whole life without hearing.
"Breathe, Davyn," he orders, hissing in pain as he presses one hand against the wound to try to staunch the blood flow. Carefully, he reaches around his back to see if it had gone all the way through. It hadn't, which is something of a blessing. He uses the dagger to cut off a corner of the once pristine white sheet, grunting as he presses it into the wound and packs it as well as he can before he stands, letting out a tight breath to steady himself as the wave of dizziness passes. He can stand. He can move. Good, good. Probably not for long, but he'd deal with that when it came. Now wasn't the time to slow down, in any case.
"By the blood, Vali, don't do that, fuck," Davyn is physically shaking when Vali turns to look at him, face pale. His hesitant hands are hovering in the air between them, afraid to reach out, and his eyes are darting between Vali's face, the makeshift bandages that are already alarmingly crimson, and the body on the ground behind them. "You need to lay down, and we need to get you help, and—"
Vali leans forwards, gritting his teeth against the way it tugs at his wound, dropping the dagger onto the bed. He grabs a hold of both of Davyn's cheeks, smearing blood onto his soft skin. "Listen to me. They walked into your bedchambers with zero resistance. Whoever did this? They had the guards let them in. Do you understand?"
"How—"
"It doesn't matter. Do you trust me?"
His eyes flash back down, and Vali gently shakes him to get his attention again.
"Yes, I trust you," Davyn says, shaky and afraid but earnest. "I'm with you."
"Good. Because we need to check on your sisters now."
