Hold on to This Lullaby

Storylist

Hanging by a Red Thread (OC, OC x Captain Rex) Pyrrha's story. Her involvement in the Clone Wars can be found here.

Conflagration (OC, OC x Aric Jorgan) Wildfi're, my SWtOR Trooper (who will have her own blog once I make enough art lol), and her story is here

Dreams (OC x Captain Rex) A one-shot of Pyrrha and Rex. The story is here.

Scallywag Serenade (Smuggler OC x Theron Shan) My contribution to the SWtOR Summer Exchange. A very short one-shot + art. OC is not mine <3 Story is here.

TBA

Even stupider edit I made is below cut lol

Day Six: Soul Bond

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic

Characters: Vim AGAIN!

This one ended up being short.

`*:;,．★ ⌒ ☆・:.,;*

Vim was just a soldier. Regardless of who her parents were, her backstory, and all of her training, at the end of the day, she was just a person who knew how to use weapons efficiently. Weidling the Force like a Jedi or a Sith was something she could not do, often resulting in her accommodating fighting styles when combating a powerful Force-user. If anything, the Force wielded her. Lana liked to say it was serving well, but again, it was the reverse and unintentional. Perhaps Vim was someone who needed to fight against the overwhelming darkness and unite as many as possible to achieve balance. It was all speculation; all that she knew was that there was a job that needed to be done, people who relied on her and she'd do it. Vim wouldn't even try to dig deeper into the supernatural elements of it.

There hadn't been much of a choice when facing beings like Voss mystics with their visions, the Dread Masters, Revan, and countless others who were well beyond her skills. Why had she been chosen? Who knew. Those were the only times she could think that the Force had been with her. Still, even though she was just a soldier, there was a sense of pride in her accomplishments. Years of putting effort, going above and beyond, had reaped more than decent results. Earning the given role of Havoc Squad leader was something she felt she had long accomplished. Outside of battle, she had her friends and her paintings. A life that was full of chaos and strife, but it was hers. "Wildfi're", the amber brush of havoc.

Her very core had been breached by the enemy she had dedicated her life to fighting. The Sith Emperor, who had been going by the name "Valkorian", had latched onto her soul for too long. Over and over again, he tried to use her for his own gain. Despite his efforts, he failed to corrupt her…. right?

Some days, it felt unclear. There was more of an… awareness of the Force. Unable to use it still, even with the little power gained during her fights against his family, but it didn't feel as distant. It pressed on her chest while pulling off more impossible missions. Areas conquered by the dark side had the worst impact, as it felt it stirred any remnants of him to recreate his apparition. Planets she never once visited felt very familiar, finding out it had been somewhere he once tread frequently. It was maddening; sometimes, the confusion threw off current objectives. Thankfully, having a sith and a jedi consular as friends aided tremendously, even Senya and Arcann lent a hand; however, there was nothing they could teach or do that would ever absolve this affliction. He was gone, but it felt like a part of her soul had been carved out. No longer did she feel wholly herself.

Valkorian's soul was bound to hers. The Sith Emperor was a part of her now. She hated him, therefore ending up hating a part of herself. That's what hurt the most. Countless times she reassured others and her reflection that she was still Vim, still "Wildfi're." How much of that was actually true? What choices did she make that he had not influenced? There was no longer separation, individuality in their histories as foes; Vim had been a part of the Emperor's legacy.

Day Five: Survivor

I am posting a day late, so double Febwhumps today.

Fandom: Star Wars

Character: Princess Leia Organa

(Signature is my SW art insta. I’ll probably post my art there later as a collection).

Day 4: Blood Stains

Fandom: My Time as Sandrock (oh look, something other than SWtOR lol). Kinda spoilery but tried to keep it vague.

Characters: Mayzee (Builder OC) x Owen

ღ꧁ღ╭⊱ꕥꕥ⊱╮ღ꧂ღ

Water was a precious commodity in Sandrock, even after the landscape's rebirth two years ago. Conserving water was just as crucial now as it had been years prior, ensuring that the town and land would continue to thrive after years of hardships. The people had been given a second chance after fighting so hard and they were not going to risk it. Caution increased as the war finally broke out between their Alliance and the Duvos Empire.

Right now, one of the town's Builders, who also doubled as a Civil Corp member, was using some of that valuable resource to scrub her white shirt. Some of the splotches of blood were her own, but the bigger mess on the front belonged to another: a Duvos soldier who had infiltrated their town and tried to sabotage all that they had done. This hadn't been the first time the people had dealt with Duvos in a fight; however, the confrontation hadn't gone down as she had hoped.

Day Three: Ghost

Fandom: SWtOR (again lol)

Characters: Vim “Wildfi’re” Linfla, Jonas Balker, Aric Jorgan.

Link to AO3 here.

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There was an unwritten rule that a cantina in one of Coruscant's lower sectors would always promise something interesting. Because of this, a lot of visitors took advantage to distract themselves from things in their lives. A lot of patrons were there to simply party and socialize, others stuck to themselves in attempts to damage their memories, a more favorable outcome than reliving horrors.

A lone soldier sat by herself at a rounded booth, nearly looking as glum but swirled liquid in her cup instead of consuming it. Her mind needed to be clear, she was a Captain of one of the best SpecForce squads the Republic had. Horrific memories were a factoring cost to keeping her skills sharp. People relied on her, put their lives in her hands. And oh, how those hands were trembling now.

Closing her free hand into a tight fist, Wildfi're surveyed the environment. Among the paying guests, there were a few who doubtless had ill intentions; of course, that was like saying there was surely fish in the ocean. The expectation was someone would come out to try to kill her or anyone in the room. Another reason why she had to stay aware. Shore leave didn't just turn off years of training and experience.

She blinked and had did a double-take. A familiar face. Her body tensed, lowering her cup to the table as she leaned slightly forward. Lights were changing in subtle, consistent patterns, but threw off perspective; anyone hammered was probably having a harder time keeping straight than usual. There, again! That smile, structure, down to the hairstyle and some of the facial patterns of the mirialan were exactly like… like…

Day 2: Old Injury

Art feat. Once again, my swtor trooper.

An event that set her moral compass, turning her into the skilled SpecForce Major she is today.

An old wound that never truly healed.

(Layers separated below)

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Day One: “I Like You Better Broken.”

Characters: SWtOR trooper oc, Vim “Wildfi’re Linfla, Aric Jorgan, Torian Cadera, Vaylin

Link to the ao3 here.

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Smoke rose into the night sky, sourced from multiple battles transpiring at once. Allies were scattered, doing their best to win against Vaylin's troops. Wildfi're blazed through the terrain, Acrann and Senya at her heels. Sounds of her heart thumping rapidly from scorching toward the threat she had to face. Vaylin. It was time to end this once and for all, but there was a problem: Vaylin had Torian. The Empress was unstable and dangerous; Vim had to figure out a way to de-escalate long enough to rescue her ally and, admittedly, new friend, who shared her Mandalorian heritage, without him succumbing to a lust for a bloodbath.

After cutting through Eternal Imperial forces, her steps slowed as she neared the rendezvous point. Focus shifted on controlling her breathing, regaining energy, cooling her weapon, and scan the environment. On the outside platform stood the maniac herself, back to the opposing forces.

"Finally, I was getting bored," Vaylin hummed. "And when I get bored, prisoners start losing limbs. I was about to start by snapping your darling's spine." She stepped aside, a sickening grin etched on her face. Vim's stomach dropped. There was more than one prisoner. On his knees and hunched over beside Torian was the Major of Havoc.

"Aric," her husband's name slipped out, unmasking her fear before she could catch it. His eyes lifted toward her, one more swollen than the other, with a dark splotch around it. Blood dripped from his nose and from the way he struggled to remain somewhat upright, she assessed more hidden injuries. Vaylin's lip curled as she smirked, eyes soaking in the anxiety-induced confusion from the Outlander.

"Surprise," she used a sing-song tone. "Thought I'd make this meeting a little more… interesting."

"Wipe this ma'gralokrian," Aric seethed, the catharese word dripped with pure hatred. Vayling twirled her saber handle with her fingers and swung it behind her, slamming it into his injured eye without so much as looking at him. Vim's blood ran cold, her flamethrowers clicked on.

"Vaylin," Vim warned in a low voice.

"Aww, did that hurt?" she sneered before her grin dropped. "Let me speak to Father."

"Release them first and I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, that's funny. You think I'm that generous, especially for a 'maybe' response? Bring Father out, and I'll let you decide who gets sacrificed. Although" she cast a raised brow at Torain, "I think we all know who you'll pick." That wasn't fair. Not that fairness was expected from Vaylin, but it was so dirty.

"Don't negotiate, just end this! Oya-!"

Bshhh!

The yellow blade whirred to life, penetrating his collarbone and dragging upward until emerging from his scalp. The veteran's eyes widened, nauseous crawling from her gut to her throat as the mandlorian's remains landed with a gross thud. Through a clenched jaw, words spat venomously between her teeth.

"I'm going to make you suffer before you die."

"You actually cared about that canned failed warrior? Pathetic. You've had your choice and I'm tired of waiting.

"You haven't held up your end of the deal; you've only slaughtered a captured man. Release him!"

"I said I'd let you pick who'd be sacrificed, not that anyone would leave my side yet. Not… unless you beg for his life." Her blood ran cold with a flicker of hot irritation.

"Are you serious?"

"One hundred percent." She started short pacing. "It'll be so delicious to see if the liberating Outlander would beg the Empress to spare a life." She stood in front of Aric. "I want to see how much you actually care, what you're willing to sacrifice. Does it stop at the dead man you hardly knew? Or has Father truly picked someone so pitiful to try and steal my throne?"

Vim didn't even get a choice. Aric decided he wouldn't be a bargaining chip and took a chance. He barreled his whole body against Vaylin, headbutting into her lower back. Caught off guard, Vaylin stumbled back. An opening, an opportunity. Vim seized it and took a shot.

It wasn't enough.

The aim for the chest landed at the abdomen as the Empress regained her composure. Another shot. It ricocheted by Vaylin's sweeping motion of the Force. Time slowed down, not because of Valkorian. The Havoc colonel pushed in their direction, arm extending to her second-in-command, who lay near his captor's feet. Shouting all around, whirrs of lightsabers, and discharge of blasters where a few pelted against her armored shoulder.

Her hands hooked to grasp her husband. Efforts were awarded by a fistful of air, missing him by a few inches. His body dragged into the air by one hand of the tyrant as the other extended for something. Vim leveraged to collide against Vaylin's leg, but the damage was done. Aric's voice rang out, followed by a loud thud and vibrato clanking. Sitting up beside Vaylin on the floor, her blood ran cold as she caught sight of him. Large, narrow metal fragment lodged somewhere in him, pinning him to the ground.

"No!" she shrieked, voice cut off. Vaylin's heeled boot slammed into her face, knocking her back. Not much time was given to reel back when Vaylin kicked her again onto her back, near Torian's remains.

"You wretched worms!" Vaylin's screech croaked, her panting interuppted by wheezing due to her wound. "The throne is not yours, not Father's, but mine!"

"You are not worthy of the throne," Valkorian briefly appeared behind her, disappearing as she twisted in the direction of his voice. He reappeared at Vim's head. "You are not fit to rule the Eternal Empire." As if on cue, Valkorian disappeared in sync with Arcann Force-shoving his sister from the Outlander's body, who scrambled to regain her footing. Her eyes needed to be glued to the threat in front of her, but her eyes wandered in her husband's direction, hearing his desperate breaths.

Vaylin fingers clawed at her injury, narrowed eyes wide. "I am far more deserving than your new puppet!" Her angered cry transformed into a cackle. "Even Valkorian is too scared to face me now that my chains are broken."

"We are not afraid," Arcann stepped up while Vim took an offensive stance, fists forming. Senya chimed in.

"Enough blood has been spilled. This has to stop." Everyone knew they were all well past that. Vaylin growled, one hand sparking with purple electricity and her saber re-ignited.

"Any last words before I end this pitiful reunion?"

Time froze. Valkorian appeared only for her this time.

"You know what you must do. I feel the fire within you. Finally, allow me guide your raw anger into the pure power you need to end this now." He looked to Aric. "Don't disappoint us in his last moment."

The Havoc leader knew better. Even before he fed off her body like a parasite, she knew better than to accept any power from a powerful Sith like the Emperor. She had witnessed it many times, recalled the history she encountered. It never, ever ended well for the user. It was a trap.

"Very well," she said. Valkorian's calm demeanor shifted to a sinister smile. A purple energy engulfed her from the outside and within. Agonizing, but also a stronger dive to fight and a sense of power. It was different in a way she couldn't describe. It didn't matter.

Time resumed. Vim's brows knitted slightly, her eyes looking behind Vaylin

"Valkorian?" she offered. As soon as Vaylin turned her gaze to meet her father, who wasn't there, Vim kicked up a red-saber spear from a nearby trooper who had fallen either by Arcann or Senya, and launched it toward her opponent. The noise has alerted Vaylin enough to counter; the heat of the saber only grazed across her stomach and aggravated the blaster injury.

The two were locked in a dance of combat, encompassed by the violet electricity and ribbons of gold-orange flames. Vim felt her blood boil throughout her body as she rapidly blinked tears away. A cooler head was harder to maintain when so much had been stolen in such a short amount of time.

"You know, I like you better broken. You're a lot more fun." Vaylin cackled.

That laughter faded when realization struck. Her whole family was fighting against her. The strikes were heavier, rapid, and desperate. A twinge of satisfaction from Vaylin's annoyance added an extra step in Vim's fighting. With the power combined, Vaylin was struck down to her hands and knees. Her ligthsaber was gone, the injury leaking out any energy she had. Heavy breathing from each party filled the air, Vim stood before the downed tyrant as her gaze looked beyond to her husband. She needed to get to him, she had to reach him.

"This isn't over yet," Valkorian spoke beside her. "Even now, my daughter is a threat."

"Oh, Father," Vaylin purred. "You know me so well." Those sith-gold hues were consumed by a glow, she yelled as she stood up and outstretched her hands. Whoom, that purple force energy pulsated in waves while a dome encased her. All but the Havoc leader were blown back, as she planted her feet, the waves threatening to knock her back. It was likely safe to assume the power she borrowed aided in her stability.

"I have no more power over Vaylin. Only you are strong enough to stop this." the Former Emperor informed.

"The Eternal Throne is mine!" Vaylin caterwauled in response. The ground shook, the walls were starting to crack. The whole base would go down if she continued on. Crouched and an arm covering her face, Vim pushed forward, eyes searching for a weak spot.

"The only eternal thing… you'll get… is death." Vim growled. With that, another blaster shot to the sadistic leader's stomach. The only thing Vim recalled after that was just… that purple force energy, the same when she had shot Valkorian all those years ago.

Dark curtains parted as Vim came to. Senya and Arcann hovered over her, muffled voices starting to become clearer. Numbness started to clear, replacing with a tingling that started in her fingers. It didn't get past that as Senya's hand hovered palm-down over Vim's body.

"How… how long-?" she croaked.

"Only a moment." Arcann confirmed, he and his mother leaned back as Vim jerked up.

"Aric!"

"Easy!" Arcann called as he watched her stumble to stand, ultimately failing. Her heart pounded in her ears, it was getting harder to breath as she crawled to him. Wind knocked out of her once she got a better look, stomach dropping again. He didn't move. A weak whimper escaped her as she exhaled, her hands cupping his face. Those ever-observing eyes now blanking stared above. One of her hands lowered and she forced her gaze to follow where the large shard fastened. Sticky, dark blood had long finished oozing around the fatal weapon and now stuck to her fingers.

This wasn't right. It wasn't fair. They had been separated for years, he had waited so long for her to return. Barely got any time outside of fighting on separate missions to be together. He should be here, alive. How much more needed to be taken from her until the Force said it was enough?

"The Eternal Fleet is retreating," Koth's voice interrupted unknowingly.

"We won." Senya muttered. Vim didn't respond. She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face and wept.

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As a solider and Havoc leader, she still spends free time painting or sketching. A lot of time she paints places she has been, realistic or ideal. It’s also how she process her feelings and trauma when she won’t talk about, often hiding those pictures (Sacking of Coruscant, Voss in a darker atmosphere since it’s right after Jaco died).

Nothing new and probably said before, but I’m still gonna ramble.

I do like Theron and Lana very much, it gives a lot of dynamic strengths and struggle potential (mostly in fanfic because I don’t feel it’s fully utilized in game oOP), however, I still don’t like how original companions are sort of…. Forgotten.

Now KotFE and relating Zakuul DLC did pretty well brining in original class companions. A good portion brought something to the table when involved in the main story, and, they could potentially die. I also was lucky since my main toon is my female trooper. Although I realize a lot of original companions have far less content (rip to people like me who stick to romancing one character per toon).

However, in prior DLCs (haven’t played new ones yet. I only finished up the traitor arc end) when, say, first meeting Theron and Lana, your companions got nothing to add on. Granted it could be availability of VA, but the switch from fully involved to lack of agency is jarring.