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soramel · 2 years

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In Love and War (myg)

BECAUSE THIS YOONGI

Fanfiction

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This work does not reflect the true character of the real-life persons mentioned. Also, I do not own the picture above (though this picture owns me. Like, who isn't?!?!)

Yoongixreader; idol!au; romance

Part 1/3

At the time when most people are asleep, save for some who is swamped by table summaries which are to be presented later at the same day-

Labor was not your dream, but here you are, crunching nine zeroes for the capitalists. Who would have thought that real life could be this lucrative? Who would have thought creativity thrives in datasets and equations?

Almost everything could be translated into numbers.

1 for yes 0 for no

The scent of brewing coffee proliferated the space, it mixed with the fishy smell of cup noodles at three a.m. The AC was on full blast but you could feel your body sweat in self-generated body heat.

When was the last time you took a bath?

Wetting your hair feels like washing away all the equations and tasks listed in your head. The coolness and refreshing feel of shower is not ideal right now that the presentation deadline is just around the corner. Specifically, later, in the morning.

If it wasn't just your late realization on some additional factors that could be significant on your projection, you wouldn't be this hairy oily mess. You blame your stupid brain for gearing up to be smart enough at the last minute.

If it were someone else, they could have just go through as planned, but not you. You hate doing things half-assed.

If there's something to milk out of the cow, you'll squeeze the tits high and dry.

In this case, that cow is Min Yoongi. Producer / Songwriter / Rapper / Singer / Model / Influencer / The GOAT - not only of the Company you work for, but also of the industry he works in.

On that thought, cow isn't a fitting comparison.

"Hey, you're still here?"

Your ears perked up at the sudden noise that cut through your silent working space.

You found Min Yoongi, a.k.a the Greatest of All Time, by the door. His forehead scrunched as he sniffed the foul smell of your office.

"Do you live here?" he asked further.

You stood up from your swivel chair and subtly squirmed at the peeling off of your skin that has been in contact with the leather for hours.

"For the past three days, yes. Don't you dare report me to HR. They might ask me for my rent," you replied as you stretched out your spine and limbs.

Without an invite from your end, he welcomed himself to your temporary home. Yoongi shut the door without taking off his gaze full of disgust and judgment. He eyed you head to toe and back. Mismatched slippers on your feet, to your hideous elephant pants, faded brown oversized tee which matched your nest of a hair because to him you utterly looked like crap.

"Go home. You must. Look at you," he reprimanded as he waved a hand to your direction.

"I'm almost done. Just one last check, making sure everything's good for the deck later. I'm gonna blow your mind," you replied, a smug grin plastered on your face.

He let out a chuckle, "You're blowing my mind already," he retaliated.

"I mean look at you, I, myself, couldn't stand this sight."

You clenched your teeth for the uncalled backhanded compliment.

Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes and reminded yourself that you're talking to the man who provides food on your table, a roof over your head, and satiates your strange addiction to the smell of new glossy colored books of anything under the sun.

Hardbound and thick ones.

Just like his attitude.

You faked a smile, and bowed down, "Mr. Min, thank you for your uncalled concern. I'll be heading home in a while."

Yoongi shifted his stance and cooly offered, "You can hitch a ride. I'm about to head home too."

He's quite a workaholic himself, but your dedication's still unmatched.

You waved your hands in front of you, shaking your head, "No, I'm alright, Mr. Min. My stench would only irritate you. You should be able to relax as you wind down. Both of us had a busy day, but I'm sure yours was more hectic seeing that you're still here at-"

The digital desk clock switched to display 4:00 a.m.

"-four in the morning."

Yoongi didn't back down right away. He weighed his options first before taking a step back.

From a concerned boss, his judging face came back before taking a step away.

"Okay, if you say so," he conceded before turning around.

He twisted the door open and stepped out of your office as he uttered a silent goodbye.

"Mm, yes, take care boss!" you politely greeted back.

Working with Min Yoongi has been easier as years go by. At first, he was in doubt of your capabilities. In all fairness, who would believe that data analysts could be of help in entertainment industry? He creates and put it out there and wait for people's reaction. If it works, then good, if it doesn't then he could try again on the next album release.

While you acknowledge that life is indeed full of trials and errors, perusing all the information at hand does not hurt. It works as a hedge in times of failure, and works as a catapult in times of success.

Soar high, fall with a plush on your ass.

That's the company's trade secret. They're willing to spend millions on data to gain billions.

They spend their money smartly on you. Though your six-digit monthly salary is not that obvious with your choice of clothing, people would gape at the fixtures and books in your penthouse.

That painting that occupied most of your foyer wall? You spent a million on that. It's a good investment though. The resell value is high.

The books that lined up your hallway crossed out the need for paint or decorations.

The sofa, oh, fine Italian leather that's expensive as your car.

You fell asleep on that couch and blacked out. You always do.

Apparently, three alarms were not enough to wake up a sleeping log like you.

That's why you almost slipped in the marbled bathroom to freshen up decently in five minutes. Showered in perfume, and slipped in to your formal suit.

Tying your hair into a bun is the easiest option.

Still, you made it 10 minutes before the meeting.

You barely slept, but the excitement to share the outcome of your research gave you an adrenaline rush.

You looked alive despite the bags under your eyes.

An alive dehydrated panda.

If there's such a thing.

But no panda will be as small as you, given that zookeepers do watch their weight. All pandas you've seen are all fluffy, while you look...

dehydrated

freeze-dried

Anyway, you could care less. You're friends with your fitness coach who you haven't seen in three months, and your dermatologist who you haven't seen in six months. They could play fairy grandmother once you're free.

That means getting the board and the management to give your brilliant project a Go.

Watching Yoongi stroll in the conference room made you nervous a bit. You'll be talking about his career progression after all. You smiled at him as you take in his effortlessly chic outfit. You chose the right artist to work for. Only Yoongi could pull off an all black suit and steel framed eyeglasses and still look like a superstar instead of a businessman.

You're barely a people-person, but converting human behavior into numbers made it easier for you to fulfill your line of work. As important people filed in, you eyed your team on the side of the room as you gesture for them to give the deck materials.

Those papers were still quite hot as they just got printed this morning by your associate. They panicked when they learned you tweaked at the last minute but assured them you got them covered.

That's the downside of working with you. You deliver exemplary works, but you're a bad boss.

You haven't asked for a team really.

But Mr. Bang, the CEO, was quite keen on it. It didn't help much since you still worked until 4 am just a while ago.

As the meeting started, you gradually become excited as you go through the presentation. At the peak of it all, after presenting them the demographics of the fan base, the casual audience, and the target public, you excitingly showed them the graph version of your artist's discography vs. album sales.

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably on his seat as he eyed the steep incline on the screen.

"However, let's take a look here." You prompted before your associate proceeded on the next slide. A zoom in on his last three albums.

You shifted your stance as you pointed out, "We do have a steep curve, but the past three are on the flatter side. Ceteris paribus-"

Mr. Bang cleared his throat and you knew what that meant,

"If we continue in our direction, without changing anything, and not considering other unexpected factors, we will not be able to maximize and use to our advantage the untapped audience."

"We have 25 million users but the engagement is at 30%. This peaks at 60% when the artist releases content--"

"People do have their own lives," Yoongi interrupted but you did not let him disturb your practiced speech.

"This is worse than four years ago when we garnered more promising engagement--"

"People do grow up and have jobs," he interrupted again which by now turned some heads away from your deck and directed to him.

"With all due respect Mr. Min," you diverted to his direction, facing away from the powerpoint.

You took a deep breath, before starting, "I'm here to maximize your potential,"

He scoffed, "Are you my voice coach?"

That left you silent.

Yoongi's mouth formed a silent "Oh,"

"Maybe you're my runway coach? Art director? Publicist?"

"No?" he added further in a mocking tone.

You pursed your lips in a straight line, looking around the table to get somebody's defense. Your gaze finally settled on Mr. Bang.

He's not meeting anyone's stare, but browsed through the next pages of the material.

"My point here is," Yoongi declared, "I'm an artist first, Ms. Y/n, I create. Spontaneously. I do respect your numbers, but don't you think focusing on these takes away my authenticity as a person? You do forget that people vie for my honesty."

More like tolerating his attitude, you want to mutter under your breath but stopped yourself from doing so by gripping your fists by your sides.

"Let her finish. I find these projects interesting. Magazine interviews..."

Yoongi scoffed, "I've done that already,"

"But they're all limited to your music," you retorted.

With a flair of both of his hands, Yoongi reasoned out "Because I'm a musician, what else should I talk about?"

Mr. Bang then went back to reading out loud from the short bickering of the two of you, "Socials and fundraising parties, talk shows guesting, tell me about them, Y/n."

Yoongi answered before letting you, "I'm a performer, not some sort of personality."

"You are a personality, whether you like it or not. You're mysterious and people like that, but to keep them intrigued we have to let them peek at your personal life. People wants someone they can resonate with, or at least someone who inspires them in the middle of the mundane. As much as they do love your music, we will gain more if you let them have a peek," you defended.

"I'm in this industry for ten years. They've seen it all, Y/n."

"Not quite," you retaliated.

"They haven't seen you as an adult. They see you as a performer, yes. As I said, people love following personalities they can reach, even though vicariously, even if just on surface level brain stimulations. We give them understanding, comfort, healing, that's what the company is all about." "Look, you can continue your own creative process, but you just need to put yourself more out there. Press loves stories. Intriguing, good, bad ones. For a celebrity, you sure do love to keep to yourself."

"It's called privacy."

"While being a public figure?"

"There are boundaries."

"And we're looking for expansion of those boundaries. We can compromise. We have to. There are other celebrities who are willing to do more. We can't just keep on dropping big bombs once in a while. Small consistent contents will ball up like a snowball and will have a greater impact on your stability in the industry."

"I know you already made a name. We just have to squeeze it dry."

Yoongi visibly flinched at your metaphor. Regardless, you continued,

"You're an artist. Great artists take risks. At this point, we're doing a well-calculated risk, and there is no measure to how this will turn out but the projection looks good. Show them the chart, Lesley," you told your team.

"The only thing we can do is take it. There's no perfect science, but we have to try it out and see where it will lead us."

"It shows desperation, Y/n."

"It shows strategic business plan while giving you an avenue to challenge your creative process and authenticity. We will lift the contract off with Wrath, let their paparazzis swarm, we will save millions and divert 20% of that funds to your security," you rifled on.

"What's there to hide Yoongi? You're a clean person as far as we know,"

As far as you know

He clenched his fists, teeth gritting, at your proposal.

You could have told him you don't want to see him anymore.

What would happen to his Wednesday dinners with you?

The occasional getaways if you were kind enough to not work on long weekends. He must be the busy one in the relationship given that he's the biggest star in the Company. Turns out the kingmaker's the real star of the show, working behind the scenes, on the sidelines, crunching and nerding out on lines and graphs.

He has come this far while protecting his privacy. Yoongi always get away with the excuse that it's part of his image. Being mysterious. When in fact, he only enjoys the animosity when there are no cameras when he's with you. It's not that he's ashamed of the relationship he has, it was because you made it clear with him, that all this will end if everything blows up in the press.

Mr. Bang cleared his throat as he rested his chin on his folded fingers. He carefully threw you a look before the scrutinizing gaze landed on his most prized talent. It was a fraction of a second when he realized he got his two best people batting heads in front of the board and officers.

"Y/n is right," the vice chair voiced out. "I second," said someone from the board.

The rest of the men and women on the long conference table nodded in agreement. Some of them hopefully looking at Yoongi.

"Besides, whether it's a good or bad image, publicity is publicity. We need to give something new for the country to talk about. They're interested in you, but they do respect your personal space most of the time," said one of the talent heads.

Mr. Bang spoke up, "How can we make sure Wrath will not release any of their wildcards against Yoongi?" he voiced out, looking at the Legal counsel.

"It's in the contract. Any materials on the artist enclosed within the contract period must be held with strict confidentiality. We are imposing grave penalty once they violate it if ever we decide to terminate the protection deal."

Mr. Bang nodded, "I'm absolutely sure that our artist is clean and does not have any criminal records. His school records are clean. We have filed them," he assured everyone on the table.

Someone chuckled and raised, "More than that, he's the most sought after bachelor. For sure everone's dying to know who he's dating."

You unknowingly took a step back as you listen to them exchanging opinions.

On the other hand, Yoongi is visibly not pleased with any part of the meeting.

"That's a private matter of our artist," Mr. Bang defended.

The person shrugged and quoted, "As Y/n said, he's a public figure. His life is meant to be under the public eye. It's not offensive at all if you ask me--"

"No one's asking for your opinion," Yoongi jabbed, the table fell silent.

"I don't agree with this. You will move at my own pace. If you can't ride with me, I can easily switch management." He declared with finality before walking out of the board room with his manager following suit and apologizing on his behalf.

A loud sigh escaped Mr. Bang's lips.

He took over the meeting and told everyone, "Y/n's idea is promising. We just need another meeting to discuss it while I'll talk to Yoongi for the mean time."

Everyone nodded in satisfaction before they started filing out of the room.

You stayed behind together with your team. Mr. Bang turned his chair to face you. "Please leave me with Y/n," he ordered your team.

The boardroom's door clicked shut before Mr. Bang started, "Thank you, Y/n. It was a wonderful presentation, though I wished I get to hear the end of it. I will review the deck and I'll get back to you. I do have a gist of what you're proposing, but..." he trailed off before tilting his head to one side as he tried to put together the words, "I see you haven't talked to Yoongi about it."

"Mr. Bang, I didn't because everything was not finalized until the last minute. Actually, same projects were retained but I thought diverting the angle on the important numbers and emphasizing these would bring light to the why of things. I only wish the best for his career. If you actually look at slide 25, you'll see the age distribution of the population, we're gathering young ones still despite his tenor in the show business. I looked deeper into the age bracket A and found that, based on consumer and entertainment index, lifestyle was the most common interest with other age groups. It is the strongest suit and tapping into this interest-"

"He wants to retire, Y/n," Mr. Bang uttered silently.

The news shocked you. Retirement was not in his vocabulary. He's been saying how he would perform on stage until he's all wrinkly and wonky. That's how much he loves his job as an artist and as a performer. Though you have noticed how he picked up on some collaborations involving his hands on its productions, performing his own work is still incomparable.

"The crowd just gives me so much energy. Most time I don't even know where I am, what timezone I'm in, but each stage feels surreal, new, it never gets old. I think I'll do this until I can't anymore," you remember him saying one time.

So it then became your purpose to help him achieve that dream. Now that he doesn't want it, out of the blue, perplexes you.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You can't put a name on your emotions as of the moment. It was a mix of anger and betrayal, irritation and all negative things. He never told you, not that he's obligated to, but with the relationship you had with him, you thought he'll trust you enough to tell those things.

On second thought, it is a private matter. You have no say on what he wants, if retirement was his plan then okay.

But not without you talking him out of it.

----- It was freezingly cold in the studio and music was blasting together with the random beeps of camera shutter.

You were waiting for Yoongi to finish his schedule before he ends his day. It was in the middle of the week, the time when his photoshoots are usually scheduled. You mostly meet him too after for dinner, having formed a relationship with him. It was a good timing to bring up what happened and what you learned in that meeting the other day. You could have texted him, but that would be unprofessional of you. Besides, it's a work matter.

Crossing your arms by your chest, you observed him from afar. His long and messy hair surely suits him. His cheekbones were highlighted, giving a chiseling effect on the hollow of his jaw and cheeks. Yoongi pocketed a hand, his thumb out, before swaying his body lazily to change his body angle. You unknowingly smiled. In a proud way. He always do things in an elaborate manner while appearing effortless.

He caught your gaze, so you gave him an acknowledging nod. What he did next was unexpected. He paused the shoot, by raising his hand, before jogging to you. It left you flustered and suddenly anxious from all the attention you're getting. Everyone's gaze were on you, or rather on Yoongi. Eyes would always follow his every move.

You shifted, starting to feel uncomfortable being part of everyone's field of vision just because the Star is in front of you, sharing the same space as yours.

"You done with work?" he casually said, unaffected by the curious stares he's receiving.

You shook your head no before finding your voice, "Please finish your shoot, don't mind me, I can wait."

His brows furrowed in confusion before his gaze became softer, "Okay, you can wait in my dressing room," he said to you and it was your turn to be confused. You met his gaze, but he averted his, making you thought he got shy for a bit.

"I can't concentrate with you watching my shoot. I'm not used to it," he muttered, the confession was meant to be heard only by you.

"Oh,"

"Okay," you nodded before turning your back on him and headed straight out of the studio.

As you walked through the hallway, you reprimanded yourself for not being able to think of that alternative. You rarely met him in his personal space, so it didn't really occur to you.

You didn't wait too long, you saw him walking towards the door of his room twenty minutes after. Pushing yourself off the wall, you greeted him with a curt bow. He looked surprised finding you outside.

"Why are you here? I told you to wait inside," he told you before ushering you in.

"Ah, that would be inappropriate. It's okay," you assured him.

He shrugged off of his coat outfit, leaving him in his black shirt. You watched him as he brushed his long hair back and was about to undo his pants before he remembered you were in the room. You quickly turned around, heading to the door. "I'm sorry! I... why are you changing in front of me? I'll wait outside, I--" you rambled as you hurry off, opening the door.

"Y/n! Wait!" he tried to stop you but it was too late.

Shock registered in everyone's faces, from Yoongi's manager, his assistant, makeup artist, stylist, and everyone else on his team. They glanced at Yoongi who was in the middle of undoing his pants and at you whose face were flushed red.

They quickly scurried away while one of them shut the door close as they shouted their apologies.

#yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #bts fanfic #bts angst

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echantedtoon · 6 months

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Friskriel Week Day 3

Day 3: Comfort

Warmth and peace were something that usually came with the night when one slept. That was what the night was for after all. Sleeping away the troubles of the day and relax with your partner, but what happened when one couldn't sleep due to your own feelings? Perhaps wait until you go back to bed or stay up for the rest of the night, but not when you had so many duties to worry over and if you were doing them right. That's one thing you could worry about.

The soft cushions and blankets hugged his body as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath, his eyes glued to the ceiling in silent after thoughts reflecting on the day. Perhaps he shouldn't have snapped so hard at the new guard or maybe he should've made his orders more clear- Grumbling, he shifted away from the ceiling and turned his body to the wall and tightened his eyes back to closed shut. D*mmit if his body didn't want to sleep then he'd force himself to sleep......But what if he did do something wrong? Another groan of irritation was cut off as something stirred right next to him. After a moment of silence he sighed in relief at the thought that they must've went back to sleep, but that was quickly dashed when they shifted again with a groan.

A moment later a mass of tangled brown bed head and tired blue face sat up in the dark. The human reached a hand up to rub their face with a groan. He remained frozen as they tilted his head in his direction.

"....A-Are you awake?"

"......no."

Frisk groaned before leaning back down but this time curled up to the other person. "What's wrong this time-"

"Nothings wrong!," he was quick to shut that down," Im just having trouble sleeping. That's all."

"You don't growls when you're tired. Only when you have something on your mind."

"...Is it that obvious?"

"Im afraid so." A second later they popped back up and placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Are you alright?"

Another silence passed but eventually he tilted his head to look at him with a grimace. "Im fine. Im just.....dealing with a few things from this morning. "

Their response came back soft. "Oh...Do you want to talk about it?"

".....No. Not right now."

"Ok. Is there anything I can do? "

Without speaking the larger of the two rolled over and drapped an arm over the over one. Taking a moment to bring them closer together in what would most would call a loving embrace. Emiting a chuckle from the smaller one as he curled into the warmth more.

"You are such a troublesome goat at times."

He chuckled. "And you're a workaholic."

"Am not!"

He chuckled and curled in deeper into the warmth. Sometimes all one needs is some comfort from another to make ones night more tiring.

#frisk x asriel #asriel dreemurr #undertale #friskriel week #asriel x frisk #frisk #friskriel

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actofcannibalism · 2 years

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HOLY SHIT SOME HEADCANONS/HEADCANONICAL LOOKS FOR II CHARACTERS

so now a bit of explanation

Silver Spoon

vampire but doesn't knows that

uses make up

Paintbrush

bristles are too fuzzy so they're tied up most of the time

buff (yea i didn't drew this here) becaure works out with their cousin

Test Tube

octopus

scientist-mechanic

Cabby

uses glasses to read

decorates herself with magnets sometimes

Clover

interested in witchcraft

lover braselets

Candle

came from family of witches and mages

thinks that magic is norm and doesn't really surpised when sees it

workaholic

married on Paper

addicted to caffine

Balloon

aphibia with fish features

Nickel

marked with clover sign

don't want to talk or move as much anymore

Lifering

basically himbo

works every day or maybe thinks that he does

Tea Kettle

doesn't have biological kids

Blueberry

chronically depressed

Bot

monkey tail!

hiperactive

Goo

have many ayes on his body which can morph into each other

Yin-Yang

goat and sheep hybrid

Yin is sheep

Yang is goat

Fan

literature enthusiast

The Floor

funny man

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zaphffayrkunialofphinsfable · 7 months

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LoVE

FULL NAME

Love

NICKNAMES

The Doorman, The Sandman

BIRTHDAY

31st Of October

AGE

7 3 6

SPECIES

Divus (normal being who became a God)/Grendel (vampire)/Taivraling (part normal being part devil)/Lamisaa (part normal being part angel)/Gāst (ghost)

PRONOUNS

He/him

GENDER

Male

SEX

Variable (generally amab)

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION

Heteroromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION

Heterosexual

OCCUPATION

God of The Unknown, Primordial & Supernatural Creatures, & Life & Death, leader of The City Of Orphans, Mercenary, Bounty Hunter, Mage Hunter, God Hunter, Monster Hunter

HEIGHT

6’6

WEIGHT

216 LBS

BODY BUILD

Ectomorph

FACIAL FEATURES

High cheekbones, strong jawline, angular, broad nose, darker skin around eyes, prominent brow ridge, defined chin, thin top lip, round face, almond cat shaped eyes, slightly flat shaped face

EYE COLOUR

Left is white; right is yellow

SKIN TONE

Dark turquoise

DISTINGUISING MARKS

Three line claw mark on left temple, scar following cheekbone (with one smaller scar next to it on jaw), scar over left side of mouth, scar over nose, scar over right eye, X shaped scar on face, x shaped scar on chest

HAIR COLOUR

Roots black light blonde hair

TYPE OF HAIR

Wavy

HAIRSTYLE

Buzzed it and let it grow, currently at 8”, puts it in a bun. Has a stubble on cheeks and a slightly longer fuzz on top lip with a goatee on chin

PHYSICAL QUIRKS

reflections show a halo and wings (right side bat left side dove) but do not show body (photos or videos show both) can be seen in a reflection in a different dimension but wings and halo cannot be seen in reflection but will be seen in person, 13’2” long devil tail, claws & fangs, goat hooves, stag horns that go in a circle like ram horns but then go back into the normal stag horn position and go behind head and move into each other and almost touch but not in the centre more on the right side, triangle shaped pupil with white inside, right eye yellow left eye white, dark turquoise skin, natural black roots with light blonde highlights, foot long downward pointing ears which split in to, foot long slit tongue, head turns into a biblically accurate angel when becomes enraged

PERSONALITY

GOOD

accepting, aesthetic, altruistic, analytical, artistic, bold, charismatic, charming, chilled, competitive, courageous, creative, cunning, curious, determined, direct, disciplined, driven, efficient, energetic, enthusiastic, excellent communicator, fast, festive, generous, good-natured, great in a crisis, honest, imaginative, inspiring, intelligent, knows how to prioritise, loyal, objective, open-minded, original, passionate, patient, perceptive, perseverant, persistant, practical, proud, rational, realistic, receptive, relaxed, reliable, resourceful, scholarly, self-confident, self-preserving, sensitive to others, shrewd, smart, spontaneous, sociable, strategic-thinkers, strong-willed, versatile, wise, witful, youthful

BAD

arrogant, cold, condescending, controlling, defiant, desperate to please, disconnected, dislikes commitment, disorganised, dissatisfied, dominant, dry, easily bored, easily stressed, emotionally vulnerable, erratic, exhausting, fiercely independent, fluctuating self-esteem, fussy, gossips, greedy, immature, immovable, impatient, insecure, intense, intolerant, may miss the bigger picture, morbid, obsessive, overbearing, overly accommodating, overly competitive, people-pleasing, perfectionist, poor handling of emotions, possessed, pressurised, private, relentless, reserve, restless, risk prone, risky behaviour, ruthless, secretive, self-critical, self-isolating, stubborn, superficial, tactless, touchy, unfocused, unpredictable, unrealistic, unstructured, uptight, vengeful, workaholic, zoned out

MBTI

Infp

ZODIAC

SUN

Capricorn

MOON

Sagittarius

RISING

Aries

HOGWARTS

Slytherin

POWERS

God of: life, death, the unknown, & supernatural/primordial beings: becomes empowered when people pray to these concepts

Immortality (unless people stop praying to his concepts or he gets killed in war)

Can read all supernatural text

Weapon manipulation

When closes right eye can see all blood in a type of x ray vision within a 5 mile radius

Regeneration

Supernatural: strength, speed, agility, endurance, durability, senses, reflexes, stamina, mind

Levitation

Intangibility

Longevity (unless people stop praying to his concepts or he gets killed in war, also he ages backwards & when he dies everything ends)

Shapeshifting: bat, wolf, snake, spider, raven, rat, cat, bat like demon, wolf like demon, snake like demon, spider like demon, raven like demon, rat like demon, cat like demon, lovecraftian monster, ectoplasm, werewolf like creature, creatures they kill, can copy the form of other creatures (or their body parts/abilities) if they have time to study them

Resurrection: if they were good they go to heaven, if they were bad they go to hell, they can leave heaven whenever they want to any place any time, and if they go to hell they have to go through the nine levels of hell and if they do they teleport to the North Pole on Terra

Psionic: telepathy, telekinesis, astral projection, invisibility (can remove his image from others’ minds), empathy, hypnosis, clairvoyance, precognition, retrocognition, remote viewing, psychometry, mind control, telepathy immunity, esp, able to construct invisible objects out of psychic energy, fear inducement, incapable of feeling fear or any, astral trapping, banishment to Negative Zone

Hellfire projection

Inter dimensional time traveling teleportation via portals (can only make portals if in complete darkness and traveling to a place of complete darkness & portals go through a random place in a random alternate universe and has to find the other part of the portal)

Witchcraft: necromancy, illusions, scrying, pyrokinesis, electrokinesis, geokinesis, aerokinesis, hydrokinesis, cryokinesis, metallokinesis, atmokinesis, transmutation, eldritch magic, chaos magic, abjuration, conjuration, divination, enchantment, evocation, binding, exorcism, summoning (creatures they can shapeshift into), possession, umbramancy, sangromancy

Night vision

Echolocation by whistling

Can capture the spirit of every being he kills

20.Can give people the feelings of the seven deadly sins and make them feel the pain that they inflicted to others by staring at them

Can see through the eyes of any being that they can shapeshift into

22.Thermokinesis

23.Electromagnetic interference

WEAKNESSES

God of: life, death, the unknown, & supernatural/primordial beings: if no one prays to these things will get weaker and die

Silver burns his skin and causes great pain

He is repulsed by the scent and taste of garlic

Vervain burns his skin and if someone is touching the herb he cannot hypnotise them

Religious symbols causes an extreme sense of unease

Sunlight and UV rays burns his skin

The use of blood from the recently deceased can be used as a method to incapacitate him briefly

An iron or wooden stake wound to the heart can kill him

If drained completely of blood he will die

If all of his limbs are cut off or if his head is cut off he will die

Holy water will burn him

Cannot enter a non public place without an invitation

Can become weak and sickly if he cannot drink blood

Fire can cause a great deal of pain to him

A werewolves saliva can kill him

Cannot interact with salt or iron

The eyeball shells of a feline can ward him off

Cannot enter holy ground

If he fights another ghost he will die

#oc #ocs #my ocs #original character #tumblr writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #ao3 writer #writer things #creative writing #writing community #writeblr

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 2 years

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Rosemary Rhoads *Supporting character

Voice Claim: (Pending)

Partner(s): Eddie Rhoads Parents: Alicia Hammlin & William Stern. Kids: None Siblings: None Age: 27(2022) Birthday: 9th of July. Height: 173cm (5.6ft) Body type: Slim but curvy. Eye color: Brown/khaki/jade. About: Amiable, Cheerful, Elegant, Active, Considerate, Gentle, Energetic, Helpful, Focused, Respectful, Enthusiastic, Friendly, Hardworking, Resourceful, Organized, Perfectionist, Reliable, Practical and Tidy. ~ Local Veterinarian. ~ Very intelligent and quick learner. ~ Finished school earlier than the rest of her class. ~ Sexuality: Straight. ~ Married ~ Very friendly. ~ Her customers loves her and she is well trusted, when it comes to taking care of their precious pets. ~ Loves her job! ~ Is a bit of a workaholic. ~ Smells like: Mandarin and coconut. ~ Rests in herself. ~ Takes hygiene very serious. ~ Down to earth. ~ Adores her husband and could never imagine herself with anyone else! ~ Loyal. ~ Thinks outside the box when it comes to animal healthcare. ~ Great cook. ~ Likes a bit of luxury. ~ Good at cheering people up. ~ Sometime goes by Rose. ~ Not much into music, which is a shame, since her husband is a music producer. ~ Gets a bit bored and uninterested when he talks about his job. ~ Doesn’t like traveling either, so when he has to travel for work, she stays at home. ~ Chatty. ~ HAPPY! ~ Runs to stay fit. ~ Very feminine and elegant. ~ Allergic to bananas. ~ Gets her nails done twice a month to maintain them, cause her work can be rough on them, and it’s important for her to look good. ~ Soft. ~ Big smile. ~ Drinks a lot of coffee. ~ Is a firm believer that opposites attract. ~ Sleeps with socks cause her feet are always cold. ~ Loves: Her husband, animals, work, coffee, cooking, long showers, getting her nails done, coconut, running, knitting, sewing, jewelry, her hair, makeup, having a neat home, cleaning, shopping, writing letters, champagne, pomegranate, goat cheese, getting massaged and new shoes. ~ Her style is: Feminine and elegant, but not too formal. ~ Doesn’t mind if people like her or not. But they usually do.

Rose’s tag Rose’s house/home Rose’s moodboard Handwriting/ask answer pic:

One song to describe her: Pharrell Williams - Happy Personal Playlist: Doesn’t really listen to music often enough to have a personal playlist.

#Rosemary Rhoads #simographysup #ts3 #sims3 #sims 3 #simblr #inbetweendreams

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afterthelastreset · 4 years

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Friskriel Week Day 3

Day 3: Comfort Warmth and peace were something that usually came with the night when one slept. That was what the night was for after all. Sleeping away the troubles of the day and relax with your partner, but what happened when one couldn't sleep due to your own feelings? Perhaps wait until you go back to bed or stay up for the rest of the night, but not when you had so many duties to worry over and if you were doing them right. That's one thing you could worry about. The soft cushions and blankets hugged his body as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath, his eyes glued to the ceiling in silent after thoughts reflecting on the day. Perhaps he shouldn't have snapped so hard at the new guard or maybe he should've made his orders more clear- Grumbling, he shifted away from the ceiling and turned his body to the wall and tightened his eyes back to closed shut. D*mmit if his body didn't want to sleep then he'd force himself to sleep......But what if he did do something wrong? Another groan of irritation was cut off as something stirred right next to him. After a moment of silence he sighed in relief at the thought that they must've went back to sleep, but that was quickly dashed when they shifted again with a groan. A moment later a mass of tangled brown bed head and tired blue face sat up in the dark. The human reached a hand up to rub their face with a groan. He remained frozen as they tilted his head in his direction. "....A-Are you awake?" "......no." Frisk groaned before leaning back down but this time curled up to the other person. "What's wrong this time-" "Nothings wrong!," he was quick to shut that down," Im just having trouble sleeping. That's all." "You don't growls when you're tired. Only when you have something on your mind." "...Is it that obvious?" "Im afraid so." A second later they popped back up and placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Are you alright?" Another silence passed but eventually he tilted his head to look at him with a grimace. "Im fine. Im just.....dealing with a few things from this morning. " Their response came back soft. "Oh...Do you want to talk about it?" ".....No. Not right now." "Ok. Is there anything I can do? " Without speaking the larger of the two rolled over and drapped an arm over the over one. Taking a moment to bring them closer together in what would most would call a loving embrace. Emiting a chuckle from the smaller one as he curled into the warmth more. "You are such a troublesome goat at times." He chuckled. "And you're a workaholic." "Am not!" He chuckled and curled in deeper into the warmth. Sometimes all one needs is some comfort from another to make ones night more tiring.

@friskrielweek

#friskriel week #friskriel #Undertale #Asriel #Frisk

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goodvibesatpeace · 5 years

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The 30 Day Challenge Each Zodiac Sign Needs To Take In Order To Live Beautifully

Aries: Watch a movie each day challenge

This proved an excellent exercise to access not only great art, but also to nurture his curiosity, to enhance his thinking and to learn amazing pick-up lines (my point exactly).

Make a list of the films you’ve always wanted to watch and never had the chance to, subscribe to local cinemas to stay informed about premieres or offer to host some movie nights at your place for your friends and their cinema aficionado acquaintances. Soon enough, you’ll have a complete new agenda to look up to!

Taurus: Living without social media challenge

This social media thing has invaded your life, hasn’t it, Taurus? You spend your minutes before falling asleep with your phone rather than with your SO, endlessly scrolling newsfeeds and hopelessly spying on your current Instagram obsessions. Before superficially sighing again and letting your ennui grow stronger than your sense of humour, consider cutting your own access to social channels for one month. Wait, what, you work there? That doesn’t mean you can’t still do it. Create a separate Facebook profile (without adding ANY friends) if you need one for your work, and deactivate your main profile instead. Oh, I know, you think you’re gonna die without your newsfeed tabloid each day, but whenever you postpone going to the toilet in the morning because you want some extra time spying your ex on Facebook, remember your bladder is not an infinite well. Other than that, you’ll be surprised how much spare time you will have access to. You might even want to pass this to your social media obsessed friend(s) next time their lunch gets cold because they HAD to Instagram it.

Gemini: Dance class challenge

This is a good time to work on your feminine/masculine balance and what better way to do so other than dancing your demons away while learning to actually synch with a partner? Takes two to tango, Gemini, and even if you do it just for you to learn to move your hips like Shakira, you can bet this kind of energy will make peace between your conflicted sides.

Cancer: Slow cooking challenge

If your diet’s been more vodka on the rocks and preheated meals this winter, Cancer, you might consider breaking up with your fast foodie knack and get yourself prepared a real, delicious and healthy snack. Even if you’ll find it boring and painstaking in the first week to actually move your ass to the market, analyze recipes and ingredients, spend time figuring how to mix organic avocados with goat cheese and chutney, doing so will make room for creativity in the kitchen. Plus, your body will thank you for that. From all its pores.

Leo: Learning a new skill challenge

It only takes 20 hours to become pretty good at something new. That means 45 minutes each day for a month, and a realistic plan to get you closer to your next dream job, fruition of a hobby or take-off of a business you’ve been long musing to kickstart. You might be surprised how fast your mind wraps itself around this new outlook and you’ll feel so much confident when you’ve touched first base with something you’ve always wanted to do but never considered yourself competent enough to actually do it. Now it’s the time!

Virgo: Deep cleansing challenge

Rest, eat, meditate, repeat. If you’ve been struggling with a difficult project, ran the mile to burnout at work or postponed washing your hair for a whole week (OR, even worse, slept in your make-up because you once read Kim Kardashian gets away with that – which she totally doesn’t, BTW), it’s high time to put a hold on your FOMO and workaholic inside and get a good and completely deserved rest. This means 9 hours of sleep each night, drinking lemon water each morning on an empty stomach, comforting your body with Swedish massage and eating healthy and vitamin reach meals three times a day, no exception. You might also want to swipe alcohol and caffeine while you’re at it, and treat your body and mind the well deserved rest it needs.

Libra: Vippassana meditation challenge

For someone who finds it hard to sit down with their own issues and often forgets to shush and listen to others, a no-talking yoga camp with long meditation classes in the morning and spiritual engaging activities throughout the day may be a winning challenge to finally connect with your deepest desires.

Scorpio: Arts and crafts challenge

The creative adult is the child who survived. If you’ve been feeling disconnected from your heart’s wishes and feel like your anxiety is the only thing standing between you and that big dream of yours, this is a good time to actively listen to your inner child, inner artist, inner voice, and give them some credit. Take a painting class, start scribbling your thoughts into poems, play with clay or take a graphic design course. Whenever I tell myself I can’t do anything artistic because I lack the skill, I think of my friend who channelled her creative energy into 38 paintings over the course of 30 days (!) after she fell in love. And even if you’re not in love, you might end up learning an important lesson about what you really love in life.

Sagittarius: Yoga mat challenge

Your body is a wonderland of sensations, Sag, and you need to work on your flexibility, especially if you want things to get wilder in the bedroom. Your epicurean spirit may find great comfort in taking a relaxing yoga class, while your body will thank you for releasing the blocked energies in your chakras. Take a deep breath and stick to it for one month, even if it seems pointless in the beginning, you will be surprised by your Jagger moves after this!

Capricorn: Be a tourist in your own city challenge

I know, we all love to travel and we get this fantastic high when we’re mingling with new people in different cultures. Then, back home, we find ourselves numbed and bored by the lacklustre of the city we inhabit, often forgetting the myriad of possibilities and attractions that make it so catchy for tourists each season after all. Take some time to sit with your mood while revisiting all the shows, galleries, museums and free activities your city has to offer. Rent a bike and explore the lesser known areas of your city. Book a nice dinner to a venue you’ve never stepped into before. Wear those beautiful clothes that you only sport on holidays (because you feel it’s tacky to dress nice for no occasion) and plan some getaways to local events with your close friends. You will feel tired but extremely happy and thankful for the energy boost your social life and your mind will get from this.

Aquarius: Surf camp challenge

Your body craves interactive sports that help you tone that beach body and boost your adrenaline in the same time. Take a month to relax and refresh your system while learning to surf with a hot instructor in a breezy resort. Lena Dunham just took one on the premiere episode of GIRLS’ season 6 and it made up for some good old soul searching too. Don’t forget to SPF!

Pisces: Diary of dreams challenge

This is a fantastic way to connect to your subconscious and learn decoding the messages it sends to you while you’re resting between the sheets. If you’ve been having nightmares, or if you’re simply curious how your dream world relates to events in your waking life, you might start a dream journal. Get yourself a beautiful notebook and begin collecting your dreams each morning before breakfast, trying to be as explicit and detailed as possible. Reflect on the notes you made at the end of each week and soon you will be able to deconstruct your subconscious mind and connect in surprising ways to the aspects of your life that need improvement.

#life #travel #astrology #zodiac #aries #leo #sagittarius #capricorn #pieces #libra #aquarius #cancer #scorpio #gemini #taurus #virgo #beautiful #sun sign

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alittleofsomethingarts · 5 years

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The Spy Comic (7-10 + Q&A #2 and a fic)

Alrighty guys, this took a while to post and draw!

The Spy Comic (1-6 + Amino Q&A)

The #10 took me a while to do, but otherwise I hope you guys enjoy this stupid comic!

#7 Criminal Scum

#8 Unscripted Wrestle

#9 Wow Wow Chibi Cuties!~~♡

EXTRA #2

#10 A Catastrophy

EXTRA #3

QNA #2

And last, but not least, a little story I wrote way back in August with the origins of the Spy Crew, adding to the lore. Whoops. Yes my mind went that way.

COVER:

~~•°☆♡○♧○♡☆°•~~

Agent Punny sighed deeply. How did it get to this point? How come her job doesn't bring any joy anymore? She was looking at the new recruits training, going back in her mind to what could've started all of this mess.

It started out really well. Her skills proved to be very useful in the agency, and she became the top newbie in a matter of weeks. The best agent, Agent King, invited her personally to pass the hardest test of all - becoming his partner. Nobody has passed it before, until Punny proved herself to be worthy.

She was ecstatic, for she admired him from day one. He was funny, had good work ethic and just was so super cool... And she wanted to get to know him better. At first, being the partner of the Best Agent of C.R.O.W.N. (Crime fighting Rentless Operators Whamming No good) was the best job ever. She got to spend with him every single day, going on epic missions full of danger and action. He did most of the action though, Agent Punny was very observant and helped Agent King to get through all sorts of tough situations.

Unfortunately...

Agent King turned out to be a complete workaholic. He would care only about doing a good job, and he seemed to be enjoying what he does, but Agent Punny wanted something more. She did everything in her power to grab his attention, but he only saw her as a friend and a partner. It was bumming her out a lot, to the point of having a slightly worse work performance.

She remembered it clearly - that day she almost sent Meme King to his death, by forgetting to tell him about an acid trap laid down by the enemy. They were sitting on a bridge, waiting for C.R.O.W.N. bus to pick them up, along with the bad guys...

But before Agent King could confront her about it, a guy looking just like Agent King approached them. He was immediately accepted to C.R.O.W.N., due to having great powers and high morals, and in a matter of a week, he was accepted as one of the top agents, breaking all the records the company had before. The guy was dubbed Agent King Junior, for being an almost exact copy of Agent King.

What Punny found, however, is a new friend. She was bouncing between both Agent King's, going on different missions together. But it didn't improve her mood much. While Agent King Jr. turned out to be a very good friend, he wasn't all alone and there was no way Punny was going to ruin somebody's relationship over her selfish desires.

That quickly changed on the faithful day, when C.R.O.W.N. discovered the man behind many of the troubles the company faced. His name was...

"Doctor Fell?" Agent King Junior scratched his head, as he and Agent Punny were looking through the files.

"This is a side mission the HQ has given us. In between missions we must spy at him and find out everything that we can." Agent King has already read the file and was instructing his young colleagues.

"But there's not much to read," Agent Punny raised the only sheet of paper that they had on the guy.

"The agents that tried to do research on him, have all mysteriously disappeared, so it's up to us to get the data on him." Agent King had tossed a different file towards Agent Punny. "Me and Tori will have to go on the next mission, so the first phase of data gathering falls on you."

She was looking at the bad quality photo of Dr. Fell in the files, thinking that it would be nice to have a better look. There was a written description, of course, so that it would be easier to identify him, but that side mission was for another time.

Or so she thought.

Apparently, their next mission involved stopping somebody from spreading a chemical with who-knows-what to a building full of innocent people, who turned out to be Dr. Fell himself, in flesh (or, rather, bone). Both she and Agent King had a good look at Fell, before he escaped, not before they managed to stop him from poisoning an entire building. As she suspected, his golden tooth and wide grin looked better in person. And his coat looked absolutely badass, making him look really cool. Agent Punny kept reminding herself that Fell was an enemy.

That night Agent King and King Jr. located the house Fell was living in and tried getting in, but were almost killed by the traps set by the Doctor. Their clothing was all scratched and cut, and Agent King had a piranha stuck to his cloak, but they were all alive and well, and brought a lot of data to the company.

Ever since then, both Agent King's and Agent Punny were rotating in spying at Dr. Fell. Agent Kings mostly tried getting as much data on the traps as possible, and she was spying on Fell whenever he got out in public in civilian clothes.

Little did they know that Doctor Fell was completely aware of the eyes on his house and himself. He was really annoyed at the fact that a couple of stubborn idiots were sticking their noses, where they weren't suppose to. He didn't want them to know what's he's been experimenting on, and went an extra mile to set up high security around his house and motion detectors with mini cameras on his neighbours houses. Eventually, Agent Kings were getting more and more traps, and spent a lot of time disabling them, but they could never make it in time. Fell made a habit of going out for not more than an hour at the time, which sort of annoyed Agent King, who had never had trouble with traps beforehand.

He also noticed that some goat lady monster was seemingly following him around, whenever he went out. Intrigued, he decided to lure her closer, thinking she had something to do with those annoying skeletons in his backyard. She was definitely not bad looking, from the footage he'd seen of her spying on his house.

Agent Punny was appointed to spy on Doctor Fell all the time, for Agent Kings got busy with plenty of missions she wasn’t aware of. Though whenever they got free, they would check on her or even replace her, if she was falling from exhaustion. To Fell’s disappointment, the goat lady was never truly alone. She would either be with those pesky skeletons, or other agents of all sorts, and she would always be nice to them. He sometimes teleported to listen to what they were talking about, and not too long after that he decided to pursue after Agent Punny and spend a night with her.

And, oh boy, did he succeed… But she was getting ahead of herself.

Whenever she was alone or wasn’t looking, he’d slip little notes and gifts in her surroundings and even her pockets. Agent Punny was rather puzzled, but it didn’t take her too long to figure out who it was from. She did notice a skeleton hand putting a flower in her pocket once and, in the rare instances she was left alone, one time he opened up the window on the front and blatantly waved at her! Something irked her to keep this attention to herself, though. It was mysterious and special. Eventually, she was looking forward for those little things and she kept every single note to herself. Just like Fell hoped and planned.

And none of the C.R.O.W.N. agents could get close even to the front door.

But then, it happened. Something that would completely change her outlook on things.

One hot afternoon, after a night in a casino, she didn't have time to change to casual clothing from her field dress, so she was hanging out around Fell's house, looking at the front door, being totally fabulous. She remembered, how the sun was burning everybody alive, and how loudly nature made itself known with the birds and the insects singing together in chaotic harmony. She was under a tree shade, though, so the sun wasn't as bad on her fur. To her surprise, she heard a voice from behind her back:

"Hey there, Sweet Momma, I've noticed you've been hanging out around my house a lot."

It. Was. Fell!!! Her heart started to beat fast, and she tried to keep her cool, but she suddenly started sweating and her cheeks turned red involuntarily. Thankfully her shades were shielding her panicked eyes. She noticed him getting closer as he said just loud enough for her to hear:

"Why don't you come over and have a cup of coffee?"

He was inviting her to his house?! WHAT??? How did it even-

The next thing she knew is that she was sitting in his living room, holding a cup of iced coffee and him sipping his own coffee next to her. Her cheeks were red from how flustered she felt. She just stared at her mug and muttered:

"I don't even like coffee..."

She could hear Fell putting down his half empty mug on the coffee table, and reaching for her mug, levitating it with his magic.

"Well, you don't have to drink it if you don't want to."

Her special C.R.O.W.N. mobile device started vibrating in her pocket, getting Agent Punny's head back in place just enough.

"I-I really shouldn't be here-"

"Ssshhh..." her sunglasses were lifted up with magic and her eyes met with his. When did she turn her head?

"They can wait after we have some fun~"

He knew that at this point, she wouldn’t say no.

"Ah-"

___

"AGENT PUNNY!!!"

She snapped back into reality, and turned towards her colleague Agent Screen, that has been calling for her for the past minute.

"Are you alright? You've been zoning out a lot for the past hour without moving an inch."

"Ah... Mmm, I'm alright." She stood straight up and stretched, bringing relief to her stiff body.

"You sure? We're all worried about you."

She noticed other agents were looking at her with worry in their eyes, making her smile nervously.

"Well, don't worry about me, I'm really fine. Maybe tired a bit. I'm gonna go to the chill room and grab a snack or something..."

She waved to the agents that were looking at her and hurried to the lounge. Agent Screen coughed and fixed the screen on his head, as the Special Forces caretaker Agent Dance asked:

"Was it me, or was she smiling the second before she snapped back to reality?"

___

Drinking some tea and munching on a sandwich, she was sitting in her favorite spot in the corner, where she could watch other agents come and go. Agent Cocoa was snoring on one of the couches and Agent Scram seemed to be very busy with his documents. She wanted to get her situation sorted out, so she tried to remember what was the last thing she was thinking about...

... Oh that.

She still remembered what happened that day and night. They were definitely having LOTS of fun. The next morning she woke up in Fells bedroom, completely naked and alone, in shock of what had happened. She sat up, looking for her dress, which had been carefully laid on a chair next to the bed. Grabbing the blanket to cover herself, she got to her dress and pulled it towards herself, searching for her C.R.O.W.N. mobile device. She flipped it open, to see at least a 50 missed calls and around a 100 new messages. Knowing that the 10 agents that tried to contact her must be worried sick, so she wrote her superior, Agent King, that she had infiltrated the house...

... But why does she feel so bad about telling on Fell to the CROWN HQ?

Punny sent the message and sat on the bed, with the blanket covering her front and her hands pressed against the chin. It didn't take her long to realize why she was feeling bad.

"Good morning, hun~" she heard and felt a peck on the cheer.

I don't want to work for C.R.O.W.N. anymore, she thought.

She felt something being put on her knees. It was a plate with bacon, eggs and thick pancakes, complete with a side of mustard being poured all over the bacon.

"Breakfast is served~"

At first she smiled and thought that it was a really nice gesture, but then she remembered who was she with.

"I can't eat this! What if you laced it with poison?!"

Fell looked as if he was deeply insulted.

"Why would I poison the food I eat myself?"

As to prove her wrong, he grabbed a piece of bacon off her plate and ate it in front of her. She just stared at him and started giggling. She had a good knack for when people were lying, and this was not the case here.

That was a start of a very weird relationship. She never reported on what she did with Fell in his house, but she did report on some other things. Like how he said that she's welcome to come over anytime. Agent Punny didn't use the privilege often, though. Mainly because her co-worker friends wouldn’t leave her side anymore.

He'd start bringing her tea at times or other snack food and chit chat when the other agents weren't looking. They had a lot in common, surprisingly, and the chats were always warming her heart. Sometimes he would tease her, by kissing her in front of other agents and flipping them off before disappearing... And the more Fell did that, the more the thought returned to her head.

I don't want to work for C.R.O.W.N. anymore.

I don't want to work for C.R.O.W.N. anymore!

I DON'T WANT TO WORK FOR C.R.O.W.N. ANYMORE!!!

She looked at the empty paper cup in her hand with a wet teabag on the bottom of it. Is she really ready to leave the agency she's been apart of for many years now? Two months ago she'd say no.

"Tori! Quick!" Agent King teleported to the room, disturbing Agent Scram’s documents, making them fly all over the room, and ran up to her. "We've got information of Dr. Fell!"

She looked rather calm. "What's wrong?"

"We've got information on where that evildoer will appear next! He's got some evil plan going on! Make sure to look presentable!" He teleported away with a pop.

"Oh boy..."

~~•°☆♡○♧○♡☆°•~~

Right after that the first comic of the spy series happens.

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kaoruyogi · 7 years

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How to Win Wars and Influence Nobles (Ch. 17)

Rating: E for Explicit/NSFW Content!

Check it out on AO3!

You’d think a video game lawyer could just drop into a pseudo-medieval universe filled with magic and demons and be totally okay with it, right?

Nah.

In the wake of her brother, Spencer’s, disappearance, Belle dropped into Thedas with luggage, but without a clue. After a brief but memorable panic attack, she resolved to be the best goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. Even if she was the only goddamn lawyer Thedas had ever seen. And even if that obstinate asshole, Cullen, wouldn’t stop giving her the side-eye every time she walked into a room…Or every time he walked into a room with her in it…Or every time they walked into a room together…Or–Fuck it. You get it.

Chapter 17: War is Hell (And It’s Not Just a Fucking Cliché)

Forced marches could suck a fucking dick. Better yet, they could suck two dicks and a left nut.

Belle’s entire body ached from tip to tail. Her head ached more the further south they marched because, apparently, there were still allergens in Thedas to compress her sinuses. Her neck, back, ass, crotch, and thighs ached from riding in the carriage and riding on horseback. She walked when she could, but she almost snapped her ankle on the third day and had to stop trying.

It was a small mercy that Eudora had decided to come along with the other healers. She patched up Belle’s little cuts and bruises, though they were less numerous or frequent than Belle thought they might have been. The healer’s best balm for Belle was to be a much-needed lifter of spirits. The woman was, after all, a noisy and unashamed rabble-rouser. “Maker, this cart is rattling my bones from arse to tits,” or, “I never could master that twirly-whirly, spinning nonsense with my staff when I was in the Circle,” she would say. The latter made Sera laugh, too. Eudora was also Sera’s favorite healer, surprising no one. The two women had a lot in common, including boundless snark.

Dorian would ride alongside the women, putting in his two cents about Eudora and Sera’s colorful commentary on “the modern mage.” The phrase made Belle chuckle each time she heard it. The modern mage. She envisioned magazine covers with too-thin models draped in Chanel or Alexander McQueen robes, arms wrapped like boney serpents around Tiffany staves. Maybe it would be more like a family magazine, and the cover would bear images of happy little mage families or couples decked out it matching polo shirts and playing catch with fireballs. The articles inside would range from “How to Find the Best Necromancy Preschool for Your Tot,” to “Fifteen Ways to Thaw Your Ice Mage in the Sack.” Belle nearly toppled from her horse, she laughed so hard.

Max had gifted Bull a battlenug because the Qunari was just this side of snapping a horse’s back, even the drafts. The battlenug was somehow both hulking and snuggly with a face like a squishy rhinoceros and horns like an ancient mountain goat. Bull named him Mertam—an exercise in irony, according to Bull—and the two were perfect for each other. Bull spoiled the giant thing rotten the whole march, sneaking him vegetables and the odd fruit every time they stopped.

“You treat that drooling animal better than you treat me,” said Dorian one evening at their campfire.

“I treat you just as sweetly when I’ve turned you into a drooling animal, kadan,” said Bull. Dorian shut up after that.

Varric wrote everything down, even while he rode. When Belle asked him why, he said with all seriousness and conviction, “Counselor, someone’s got to tell this story to everyone who wasn’t here. Some of the things that happen along this march will be legendary one day. Incidentally, what do you think would be a good title for the book? I’m thinking, ‘All This Shit is Weird,’ by Varric Tethras. Or maybe, ‘No One Listens to the Dwarf’ with the subtitle, ‘The Story of How Thedas Almost Burned to a Crisp Six Thousand Times.’” Belle picked the second option.

Vivienne, Leliana, and Josephine spent most of their time in one of the carriages. When Empress Celene surprised an entire army by joining the march with her forces, the four women were all but inseparable. Belle spent what time she had to with the empress, kissing ass and licking boots, but preferred to be away from the onslaught of noble horseshit the woman spewed on a never ending basis. Belle was not Vivienne, who seemed unable or unwilling to stop appearing unreadable and superior. Belle liked to shut her superiority off after a few hours of use. It was too exhausting to spend the whole day looking down her nose, and her glasses weren’t suitable for accommodating the adjustment.

Morrigan likewise lingered near Celene, though she could also be found arguing with Solas about something related to magic or elves or just about anything. On rare occasions, she rode with Max, though he seemed to tire of her company after fifteen minutes. He didn’t care for her. Her presence was a means to an end, he’d told Belle. The witch, he’d said, knew something.

When Solas was not arguing with Morrigan, he could often be seen riding in silence, a pensive stare glued to his face. Belle liked the elf well enough, though he may not always have liked her. The way he’d spoken about her unceremonious arrival in Thedas sometimes sounded like chastisement. Other times it had sounded like he felt a personal attachment to the incident. He had become less apt to ask her about it in recent months, but everyone had become less apt to ask her about it in recent months.

Cole lingered near everyone at one time or another. He had become more…corporeal lately. Belle noticed him more, and he surprised her less. His personality had not changed—he still said odd and invasive things—but he seemed happier, in a way. It was in his tone and on his face in tiny increments. She might even have heard him laugh once, though the sound was so short and came as such a surprise no one could be certain.

Blackwall, as everyone agreed to continue calling him, marched with the soldiers. He was no more fit to ride than any one of them, he’d said before they set out. The soldiers began to accept him again as they marched. It was a slow process, but Spencer helped, choosing to sit next to Blackwall at meals and march with him for several days. Spencer chastised some of his fellow soldiers for their judgments and accusations, reminding them how many of their own lives Blackwall had saved. Belle could not have been prouder of her brother for championing the beleaguered man. Spencer was one of the good ones.

Cassandra alternated between riding and marching, always near the front of the forces. She was a galvanizing and powerful presence for the soldiers, never showing weakness and always understanding of their struggles. She made sure boots were kept dry and shields were kept high. She and Cullen often rode side by side, locked in intense conversation or in complete silence. Casualness between the two warriors was a rarity.

Cullen had withdrawn from Belle in degrees too small to cause her to worry until midway through the march. It started the day Max told everyone they would soon be marching to the Arbor Wilds. Cullen spent that night with Belle, but he had refused to leave his office for dinner. He started refusing to leave his tower for lunch. He started refusing to leave his tower for any meals. He stopped spending the night in her tower.

She tried to be understanding. He was under immense pressure to plan a successful march, a successful attack, and a thousand successful contingencies. The Inquisition’s cause and his cause had to be one and the same. She understood. She was a workaholic before being sucked into Thedas, even a bit of one thereafter. She tried not to mind the dark circles under his eyes or the way he would ignore food when it was brought to him. She tried not to pay attention to the way he snapped at people more than usual or pinched the bridge of his nose. She tried not to feel hurt at his continued absence from her bed or his constant answer of, “There is too much work to be done,” when she asked him to join her. She tried, but it wasn’t working.

As the troops marched on, Cullen grew ever more distant. Belle had hoped that they would share a tent, and they did. She would creep in after dinner to find him already hunched over some document or another, writing or reading by dim candlelight as he held his forehead in his left hand. The muscles of his neck and shoulders were stiff and knotted, as if a pack of overeager boy scouts had gone to work on him in pursuit of a merit badge. Belle would dig her hitchhiker’s thumbs into those knots, squeezing and massaging them until she thought her fingers would snap at the first knuckle. She was nearly brought to relieved tears when he finally dropped his head and groaned at her ministrations, but that only happened once.

She was brought to tears after the first week. She began massaging his shoulders, and he reached back to lift her hand away. “Don’t trouble yourself,” he said.

“I’m not troubling myself. I want to he—”

“I will join you in bed shortly.” He didn’t look at her when he said it.

“Fine.” It came out exactly as harsh as she meant. Still, he did not turn to look at her.

He was just under stress, she told herself. He had not intended his words to be cruel. He was Atlas with the world on his shoulders, and he was Achilles with an arrow in his heel. His withdrawal symptoms were flaring up under the pressure of thousands of lives resting on his judgment. Constant headaches, flop sweats, she may have heard him vomiting once.

Belle laid down, tearful, angry, and terrified. It took almost an hour for her to fall asleep to the sounds of Cullen’s scribbling. She drifted off with her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her hands balled into fists.

She woke up alone.

She had her own tent set up the next night. It wasn’t because she was angry at him. It wasn’t because she needed distance from him. It wasn’t because she thought he needed to be alone. It was because she could not watch him do this to himself again. She could not watch him kill himself under the yoke of his workload a second time, and she could not intervene. It was not her place to tell him not to plan or not to work. The strain on him, his tension, was justifiable. The fate of an entire fucking continent depended on his strategy. The weight of that would have broken a lesser man. She only hoped it would not break him.

She had barely seen Cullen during the last leg of their journey. He walked alongside soldiers and he rode at the head of the army as he had done, and he slept or didn’t sleep alone in his tent. His skin went sallow and his eyes seemed to sink into his head to be surrounded by yellowish, blueish, purplish circles. He was worn down and ragged, yet he managed to appear composed in front of his men. He looked almost regal with his tired head held high and his tired gaze held firm. Even at his worst, he was a fucking sight to behold.

When they finally reached the Arbor Wilds, Corypheus’s forces had already entrenched themselves in the network of groves nestled in the vast woods. Hundreds, if not thousands, of Red Templars and Tevinter mages calling themselves “Venatori” sat between the Inquisition and some magic mirror in a temple. Belle would have been lying if she claimed to have full comprehension of the importance of this magic mirror, but it was important to Max and it was important to Cullen and it was important to Josephine, so it was important to Belle.

Cullen approached Belle after dinner that night. The attack was to happen at dawn, he had told everyone upon their arrival. They all had one more night to rest, he’d said. The irony was not lost on her.

She had been forced to join Celene’s party for some eve-of-battle pow-wow that didn’t include anyone actually involved in the battle or its planning. It was an excuse for the empress to gather those she considered kindred close to her while she was afraid. If the battle was lost, there was a very good chance that Celene would no longer be empress by the time she returned to Orlais, if she returned to Orlais at all.

A gloved hand came to rest on Belle’s shoulder. The touch was gentle, like a nervous little boy trying to get the attention of the teacher he thought was beautiful so he could hand her an apple. When Belle turned, Cullen’s weary face looked back at her with a kind of doleful affection. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

She nodded, turning back to her esteemed company to bow her head. “I beg your pardon, your majesty, but I must excuse myself for a few moments.” Celene cast an appraising glance at Cullen before issuing a silent decree with a flippant wave. Belle clenched her jaw to keep herself from sighing as she stood. She bowed her head again before following Cullen to a quiet spot among the trees.

“I apologize for interrupting your meal,” said Cullen. His voice was soft and sad. The same doleful affection still rested on his features.

“It’s okay. It was begging to be interrupted. I hate having to sit up straight and pretend to be interested for that long.” She really did. “I don’t mind you stealing me away from the pompous bullshit.” She really didn’t.

“I—Uh…” His hand found the back of his neck, his sore neck he wouldn’t let her massage. His enervated eyes wandered to where the stars would have been had the trees not been so lush and so numerous.

His other hand lifted from his side. In it was a simple black leather scabbard with an equally simple black leather belt beneath it. The hilt of the dagger in the scabbard was also simple in its way. There were no gems or shining adornments, only deep azure leather embossed with a Celtic or Norse-looking design. It was Fereldan, without a shadow of a doubt.

“I want you to have this. I want you to wear it tomorrow—until the battle is done.” Cullen held it out in the too-substantial space between them.

Belle seized the opportunity to close the distance. She stepped forward, taking the dagger in one hand and locking his fingers in the other. “Okay.”

His gaze was uneven. The little lines on his forehead contorted into an upside down horseshoe with his apparent worry, spilling his imaginary luck down the bridge of his nose. His nose that was bent ever so slightly in the middle. His nose that had probably been broken at least once. His nose that she would gamble would be passed on to his children. “I know you’ll stay in the camps, and I know you’ll be protected, but I need you to wear it. I need you to stay safe.”

“Okay.”

“I need to know you’ll stay safe, stay alive.”

“Okay.” Belle’s hand unclasped from Cullen’s, and she moved her palm to his jaw. Her thumb traced a tiny blue vein down from his cheekbone until it met with her other fingers. His eyes that had seemed nearly as pale as his skin were once again warm as honey whiskey. They roved over her face, scanning every mole and freckle as if to memorize them.

His lips crashed into hers without warning. It could not have been called anything but a crash. It was a reckless collision of flesh, a desperate meeting not to be averted by any force in any universe. His arms flew around her waist to press her to him, though his breastplate forbade the closeness they sought. His mouth opened once to close around her lower lip, and again to close around her upper lip. His tongue tasted her, teased at her skin, but did not beg entry at first. When it did, there was a kind of glory to it. It was brilliant and bright, his every movement a subtle devotion. He paid his penance, tucking it away in the corners of her mouth for safekeeping. Her hand squeezed at the back of his neck, and his hands squeezed at her waist. It was the kind of kiss meant to end all kisses. That, she would not allow.

Difficult as it was, it was Belle’s turn to withdraw. She watched his lips, pinker from the press of her own, then followed his scar up toward his eyes. “I need to know you’ll stay safe too, you know. You’re not allowed to just kiss me and run off in the morning to die. You have to take care of yourself.”

“I will do what I must to ensure the Inquisition is victorious,” said Cullen. His fingertips still burrowed into her in the spaces between her corset’s bones. Their lips were nearly touching.

“Man, fuck that,” said Belle. She dropped the dagger onto the weedy and leafy ground so that she could surround his face with her hands. “Fuck that noise, Cullen. You think the Inquisition’s going to be any good without you? You think someone else can just pick up your sword and go, ‘Oh, hey, yo, woah, I’m your Commander now,’ and that’ll just be all sunshine and rainbows? No. You live. You do what you must to ensure you live. I’m not hanging around in fucking Thedas if you’re not here. I’m not. So you better goddamn well live.”

There was a ferocity in his stare, a determination. “I do not plan to die.”

“Yeah, well, don’t just not plan to die. Plan to live, okay? And for the love of God, will you please stay hydrated?” Belle ran her thumbs along his cheekbones. “It’s really obvious you haven’t been drinking water. You’re not taking care of yourself.”

Cullen’s intensity turned to mild amusement. His mild amusement turned to adoration. “Alright. I will try to take care of myself, and I will do everything in my power to return to you.”

“That’s better.”

He kissed her again. There was less hopelessness in it, less fear. It wasn’t a kiss to end all kisses. It was a kiss to show his love. There didn’t need to be anything else to it. He would take care of himself. He would survive the fight. He would come back to her. That was all.

Belle told herself it would be alright, despite the pit in her stomach and the reminders screaming and clawing at the back of her mind that nothing was ever alright. But it had to be. It would be.

*****

Two days. For two days, the fighting dragged on. Belle did not see Cullen at all, though she heard from returning scouts and incoming wounded that he was fighting with everything he had. She heard that he saved one soldier’s life, then another, then another. She heard that he was pushing the Inquisition’s troops forward. She heard that he was pushing the Red Templars back. A tentative kind of pride swelled in her at the thought of his courage and compassion, and she would rest her hand on the dagger she wore beneath her light surcoat or the coin she kept in her deepest pocket.

Max had gone out with the first wave, but had been drawn back for his protection several times. Cassandra, Blackwall, and Iron Bull were helping Cullen with the push on the front lines. Cole and Sera ventured out past the front from time to time to set fires whose smoke could be seen from the rear camps, and Varric followed to lay traps for anyone who should not have been behind them. Dorian, Morrigan, and Vivienne fought among the warriors while Solas acted as a protector and healer, leading out whatever the mage versions of battle medics were to aid the injured.

Of course, Belle received all of this information second and third-hand. She was stuck at the rear camps with Celene and Josie. Leliana and a line of archers and mages stood at the edge of camp, decimating anyone foolish enough to approach.

Belle split her time between sipping tea with Empress Celene and helping Eudora with the arriving wounded. Belle had learned enough in all her time in doctor’s offices and emergency rooms to know how to triage. Crush wounds, stab wounds, blunt force trauma wounds, fatal wounds. Most were easy to discern. There was blood, or there wasn’t. There was bruising, or there wasn’t. The soldier was conscious, or they weren’t. The soldier was alive, or they weren’t.

While Belle sat with the Empress, she penned triage signs in secret. She wrote large numbers—one through four—on pieces of parchment as if writing short updates to the nobility. One was meant for those whose injuries were mild and non-life-threatening. Two was meant for those whose injuries were severe and bore non-imminent threats of death. Three was meant for those who needed immediate attention if they were to survive. Four was meant for those who could not be saved. Belle hated fucking four. She wanted to stop writing four for the rest of her life by the first evening. There had been too many fours. One would have been too many.

In the early afternoon on the second day of fighting, someone approached her. She was all but breaking her fingers, tightening a tourniquet around the arm of a hard-faced woman with a deep gash in one arm and a piece of parchment with a two in the other. Belle thought she heard her name, at first, but couldn’t be sure with the choir of the wounded crying out around her.

“Lady Dolan,” an Orlesian voice said again. She glanced up to see a man she may have recognized as one of Celene’s servants. The ubiquitous masks they wore made it difficult to be certain who was who in the zoo.

Belle grunted out a “Yes?” as she pulled the fabric a final time. The wounded woman beside her whimpered for the first time.

“Empress Celene has requested your presence, at once.”

Belle looked up at the man. His arms were crossed over his chest and his foot tapped the ground in a dramatic show of impatience. “I’m a little busy, in case you hadn’t noticed. And, you know, I just left her.”

She stood to move to the next cot. A man in his forties sat up, an eerie red shard sticking out of his lower abdomen. She looked over the wound, putting her hand near the shard as she did. The air around it felt hot. Something about it made nauseated her. She’d seen a great many shards like these since the battle began. Red lyrium. Varric told her not to touch it before he left, so she didn’t. She handed the man a three.

“That may be so, but she has requested your presence again. The Empress is not to be ignored in favor of these…common soldiers.” The Orlesian’s accent made his words sound even more laden with disgust than they might otherwise have been.

Belle wanted to tell the man to shove it up his ass, to shove himself up the empress’s ass so she wouldn’t feel ignored. “There aren’t enough healers here. I just relieved some of them. Somebody could die if I leave.”

As if on cue, one of the healers she relieved, a young Qunari man, trotted back into the tent. “I took the liberty of retrieving him,” said the Orlesian. The Qunari touched Belle on the shoulder and gave her a small smile. He nodded toward the exit of the tent.

Belle sighed through her nose, trying not to look too petulant as she stood. “Fine. Let’s go.”

As they walked through the camp, she swore she heard an explosion and felt the ground quake beneath her feet. No one else seemed to notice, as everyone kept about their business of mixing potions, making arrows, and cleaning and repairing blades. She thought about the one on her hip, concealed from the world like her worry for Cullen was concealed from the world. She hoped he was drinking water.

“We just passed Empress Celene’s tent,” said Belle as she watched it fall further and further behind her. Calling it a tent was doing it a disservice. It was more of a portable multi-room structure, like a rambler made of canvas. It sat among the other tents, cream colored where they were maroon, massive where they were tiny, and stately where they were shabby. It was a feckless display of wealth amidst those fighting for the welfare of the world.

“She wishes to speak to you where there are fewer eyes and ears.”

Belle was not about to sleep with Celene. Fuck diplomacy. Maybe that was what it was called when people did that. “Fuck Diplomacy” sounded like an archaic negotiation tactic. “Okay,” said Belle, knowing full well that she might lose her job if this little tete-a-tete took a swerve. She might lose her head while she was at it. No pressure.

The man held up the flap of a far flung tent and gestured for Belle to enter. The tent was tiny, likely erected to keep sensitive supplies dry. That would explain the smell of salted meat and the large crates. What it would not explain was the absence of anyone else in the tent. “Where’s Empress Celene?” asked Belle as she turned to look at the Orlesian.

No sooner than she had closed her mouth had he rushed her. She gasped and flinched, as was her way when she was startled. She felt cold metal against her throat and wood against her back. The foulness of the man’s breath had no room to dissipate before crawling up her nose. Every detail of his mask was visible to her, each dent and ding immediately suspicious. His ice-blue eyes bore a smugness that made her angrier than the thought of the blade meant to take her life. There was nowhere to escape, nowhere to run but through him. She leaned her head back as far as she could without causing him to take notice.

“This is what happens to cunts who tear down noble families for sport.” The man spat as he spoke, peppering Belle’s lips and chin with his rank spittle.

Belle’s right hand crept up her thigh. Her dagger was tucked away. He didn’t know she had it. Even if he did, he didn’t know she’d learned to use it. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the smooth bottom of the scabbard. “I have no idea who the fuck you’re talking about.”

The man hissed a wet breath through gritted teeth, pushing into her and knocking her head against the crate behind her. “Perhaps you know my name then? Does Asselin sound familiar to you, you foreign bitch? Neville Asselin? Mallory’s brother? The man whose future you fucked when you ruined her marriage?” He spat again.

Belle’s fingers found the hilt of the dagger. Her fingertips grazed the design stamped into the leather before closing around it to withdraw the blade from its sheath. She took it out slowly as she said, “I didn’t fuck your future. You should blame your sister for that. If she could’ve just moved on and not stabbed me in the middle of a crowded room—the same crowded room as the empress was in—maybe your family wouldn’t have lost everything.” The tip of the blade swayed in the air when it came loose. She turned it upright as he spoke again.

“My sister is not at fault in any of this! You ruined her life! You ruined all of our—” Neville stopped short when Belle jammed the blade into his chest. Between the third and fourth rib and up to pierce the heart. That was the way she’d practiced with Cullen. They had practiced it for days. Her wooden practice blade had never entered his body, never pierced his flesh or his organs, never killed him. Every blood vessel in her body felt as though it was flowing with ice. Every muscle was tense. Every breath was shaky as it came in or out. Her thighs ached. This was fight or flight. She had the urge to do both.

Neville’s eyes went wide. He let out a thick cough as his blade dropped away from Belle’s throat. She jerked the hilt of the dagger to make sure she hit something vital, and he coughed again. When he finally went limp and heavy against her, she let him fall to the dirt in a heap.

Her hands trembled even after she balled them into fists. Her breaths were noisy, in and out of her nose. Cold in, cold out. He was dead. She had to be sure he was dead. She reached down, seeing her bloodied hand for the first time and not minding, and ripped the blade from the body. She stabbed him in the heart again, down instead of up. Neville didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. She checked for a pulse to find none, not even the faintest thump against her index and middle fingers.

Belle was overwhelmed by the compulsion to get away from the corpse she’d made. She’d always thought that if she had to kill someone to stay alive, she would say something afterward. “Fuck you,” or something. Maybe something quippier, she was never really sure. Instead, she took her dagger from the body and left the tent in silence. She thought about sheathing the blade, but decided she didn’t want to get any more blood on her clothes or ruin the scabbard. Banal practicality in the face of crisis was ingrained in her bones. She almost laughed at the way her mind worked, but she’d just killed a man and she thought better of it.

She wandered over to Celene’s obscene tent, aware that her surcoat and pants were splashed with blood. Celene’s servants balked when Belle entered. “Josephine? Are you in here?”

“Belle?” said Josephine’s voice from behind a wall of cream colored fabric. “I thought you were aiding the healers fo—” She rounded the wall and stopped in a stiff motion. “What in the Maker’s name?” She walked a couple of hasty steps to meet Belle in the center of what passed for a foyer. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess? Neville Asselin just tried to cut my throat.” Belle gestured with her bloody knife in the direction of the tent containing the salted meat and the corpse. “I killed him first.” Her matter-of-factness made her a little dizzy. It seemed dumb.

Celene’s voice rang out in shrill tones from where Josephine had been. “Is everything alright, Lady Montilyet?”

“All is well, Your Majesty. I shall return in a moment.” Josephine lifted Belle’s chin to examine her neck. “We must get you to the healers to have your wound tended.”

Belle shook her head. “He didn’t get me, though.”

Josephine’s dark brows knotted together, her blue-hazel eyes quizzical. “Belle, you have a two-inch cut along your throat.”

“I do?” Belle started to reach up to feel her neck, stopping once she remembered the upward-facing dagger in her hand. “He cut me?”

“Yes, and you are still bleeding. Come with me.” Josephine ushered Belle out of Celene’s quarters and toward the healers’ tents.

“Goddamn. Adrenaline is a hell of a thing.” Belle started to feel the sting of the wound when they reached the halfway point. “Ow. Now I know it’s there. Shit.” She reached up with her left hand to touch the tender skin around the cut. She was, in fact, still bleeding.

“Are you alright?” Josephine asked again as they entered the dingy red tent.

Exhaustion began to wash over Belle the moment she sat on an empty cot. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. “I dunno. My neck hurts now. But someone should really go get that dead guy. Like, secure the scene for investigation or something. I dunno how you guys do shit here. I dunno.”

The same young Qunari man she had relieved and had relieved her in return approached. “What happened?” There was a distinct measure of consternation in his voice.

“I know, right? I just left here all not bloody and here I come a few minutes later all…bloody. That guy tried to slit my throat. I guess he did a little. Did he say anything to you?” Belle pointed at the young man with the hand she’d forgotten was still clutching a dagger.

He was gentle with her when he moved her bedaggered hand away. “About killing you? No. You can put down the knife, though. You’re safe now.”

Belle’s fingers would not loosen. Her nails dug into the bloodstained blue leather. “Um.” She willed herself to let go of the knife, but her fingers were not to be moved. “I can’t.” She tried again. “Nope. I can’t.”

Josephine’s hand came to rest over Belle’s, and the muscles began to relax. When Belle’s fingers loosened enough, Josephine slipped the dagger away. She laid it down on a small table next to the cot. Belle’s jaw was set tight while she watched. Her nails had left little crescent indentations in the blue leather, and she could see the spot where her hand had been—the only part of the grip that wasn’t coated in rapidly coagulating blood.

“I do not wish to leave you just yet, but Celene—”

“No, yeah, dude. Go ahead. Handle it. We got this.” Belle gave Josephine a weak smile as she pointed back and forth between herself and the young man. Josephine gave her one last baleful look before leaving the healers’ tent. Belle sighed an unsteady sigh. “Yeah. We got this.”

Some kind of horn sounded outside while the man, whose name Belle learned was Ash, twinkled his magical fingers around her bleeding knife wound. The feeling of tissue knitting itself back together was eerie, and a bit squishy. “Battle’s over,” said Ash absently, looking down at Belle’s still-healing neck with an appraising eye.

“Is that what that horn thing meant?”

“Yes. Have you never been to battle before this?”

“No. This is my fir—” She gasped as the last jagged bits of her cut reconnected. “First battle.”

“Well, well,” said Ash. “First battle and you didn’t even have to leave camp to kill a man. Well done.”

“Doesn’t feel well done. Feels shitty.”

“I know, but it happened. Stay here for a moment, I’m going to get you some water. You look a little pale.”

Belle couldn’t stop the little puff of laughter that left her nose. “I always look pale. But I guess this is the ‘no blood in my body’ kind of pale, huh?”

“The very same.”

Ash came back with a small cup of cool water a moment later. Belle drained it, and he went to fetch more. They went through this two more times before her thirst was slaked. “You should have brought me a bigger cup.” They both laughed a bit. She felt nauseous.

He told her to lie still for a while before she tried to get up. She knew that her body need time to make more blood, and she complied. She couldn’t keep from looking at the ruined dagger. Could daggers get ruined? They were intended to spill blood. That was their raison d’etre. How was she meant to clean the dried blood from the leather so she could use the thing again? Was she supposed to use it again? Would she have to use it again?

Hullabaloo and ruckus outside pulled Belle from the whirl of her thoughts, and she blinked her dry eyes. She was still conscious. She reckoned she would still be conscious if she stood to see the cause of the fuss. Testing her theory, she rose inch by inch from her cot, inhaling the whole time. Dizziness when standing was, after all, most frequently caused by lack of oxygen flowing to the brain.

Belle stepped out of the tent and glanced around. Entering from the edge of the camp where Leliana had been holding the line, Belle made out Spencer and his friend, Aldridge, dragging something on a makeshift half-stretcher. On closer inspection, the thing they were dragging appeared to be an unconscious man. Dark, greasy hair lay in a messy mop around his head and face, and some of his veins seemed to glow red. Bits and pieces of silvery armor clung to the fabric of his gambeson, but they looked as if they had been shattered.

Following close behind the stretcher, to Belle’s shuddering relief, was Cullen. She stepped toward him, though she was a good distance from the entrance to the camp. He was all in one piece. He looked tired and irritated, and someone had opened up his eyebrow with a well-placed punch, but he seemed alright. His posture was straight as ever, his head held as high as ever. She could have cried at the sight of him. She did cry at the sight of him.

Then he saw her. The fatigue and irritation on his face melted away into joy before dissolving into apprehension. His pace quickened until he was jogging toward her. She imagined she looked rather stupid the way she was holding her arms out long before he reached her, though it was worth every ounce of embarrassment the moment that he did. She wept into his neck when he embraced her, not caring for what seemed like the hundredth time that his armor pinched and pushed at her. Every bit of everything she was feeling rushed out of her eyes in globulous tears and out of her mouth in muffled sobs. He lifted her feet from the ground and carried her somewhere. She didn’t care to look where.

Cullen laid her down in the cot from which she’d risen. She supposed she had not gotten very far from the tent. When Belle allowed him to pull away enough to see her, he asked, “Whose blood is that?”

“Some of it’s mine. This guy—the chick who tried to kill me at the Winter Palace, y’know—her brother. He tried to kill me.” Before she could finish, Cullen lurched away.

“Where is he?” His voice was dark and robust when he spoke, filled with rage and something like desire.

“The rest of it’s his blood. He’s dead. In a supply tent somewhere that way.” She pointed, making aimless shapes in the air with her uncertain hand. “Or maybe not in the tent anymore. I told Josie. Maybe they took him out already. I don’t know. Did we win?”

Cullen’s face had become a battlefield. Worry and happiness and fury and weariness warred within his features. “In a way, yes.”

“Was that Samson that Spencer was dragging in?”

“It was. Though, Corypheus has not been defeated. Not yet.”

“That sucks, I guess. But yay, you got Samson. That’s good right?”

Cullen removed his glove to run his knuckles across her cheek. She reveled in the sensation of him. “It is. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know. I’m alive and Ash was kind enough to put my skin back together, so…I guess in that sense, I’m fine. But…I don’t know.” There were too many thoughts vying for top billing in her mind for anything to coalesce into something clear. “I should thank you for the dagger. And for all the training. I would be much less okay without those.”

“Maker’s breath, Belle.” Cullen enveloped her in his arms again. It was the first time she’d felt safe since the battle began. “Thank the Maker you’re alive, my darling. I could not bear it if you—If—”

“Shh, no. No, no, no. None of that bullshit. We’re both alive, and we’re both together. That’s enough right this second. Okay?” She felt him nod into her neck and shoulder. “Is Max okay?”

“He is alive, but he went through the eluvian with Morrigan and a few others. He is likely back at Skyhold. A few of us must leave as soon as we can to get home ahead of the march.”

Belle let out a heavy breath into his skin. She swam in the scent of him for a moment, spiced herbs and soft powder and the little something that was just him. She could take the time to cope with everything later. In that moment, she wanted to remain where and as they were. “Can we sleep first? We’ve both had a rough couple of days, one of us more than the other. I’ll let you pick which one.”

Cullen chuckled, letting his warm breath splash across her neck and through her hair. “Yes. We can leave in the morning. I would like to stay in your tent tonight, if that would be agreeable?”

“Pfft. Agreeable. Of course I want you to stay with me. I’ve missed you so fucking much I can’t stand it.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Well, thank God for that.”

#cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x belle #belle dolan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #mgit #modern girl in thedas #self indulgence au #htwwain

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the-ocfeedback-gal-blog · 7 years

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Yat-Sen Tay Review

TW: Anxiety, depression, eating disorder, mention of self-harm.

The-OCfeedback-Gal’s notes will be italicized.

Physical Description: Around 1.80 m (5'11") and 62 kg (136 lbs). Slightly dark, warm skin. Slim face with high cheekbones. Freckles on his nose and cheeks. He usually has a small stubble. A beauty mark on his right cheek. Full, arched lips. Very upturned, double-lid, hooded eyes. Long, dark lashes. Clear, light brown eye colour. Full, straight eyebrows that arched at the end. Hair is usually pretty curly (Type 3b) and it falls into his eyes, but he straightens it and styles it back for work. Hair colour is dark brown, his eyebrows match his hair. Bottom heavy, top slim. Prominent collarbones. Slim neck, shoulders, arms and chest. Thicker thighs, butt and legs. Average feet and hands. He shaves most of his body once a week. He wears glasses, he has two pairs. One pair is big and round, the other is the hipster style frame. He wears the second one to work. Wears a silver ring with a red jewel on his left hand and a silver watch with a red display on his left wrist. He wears a lot of burgundies. His style is usually lazy, button-up shirts with shorts and socks at home. At work, he wears formal sweaters or cardigans with cotton trousers and dress shoes.

I have a clear idea in my mind from this description.

Name: Yat-Sen (given name) Tay (surname)

Flows off the tongue pretty well.

Species/Race: He’s a black Asian from Singapore!

This is interesting, since I know that many people who grow up in Asian countries but don’t look 100% native tend to have a very hard time feeling like an outsider and never being accepted by their own people. Does he ever have problems like this?

Age: 26. His birthday is 8th of September 1991, so he is a Virgo and Gold Goat.

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Questionable, but probably aromantic asexual.

Friends: He has a few colleagues he gets along with and some high school buddies he gets together with from time to time, but he usually prefers not to meddle with other people. He does get acquainted with a lot of people throughout the story and even gets deeply involved with a few, but that’s later on.

Family: He has a good bond with his older sister after having patched things up with her from when he was still a teen. His dad was never really a person he could close to, a typical businessman. His mother is still bitter about the past, so he doesn’t want to make the effort to talk it out anymore since it always ends up in a fight and a lot of stress for everyone. He was close with his grandmother, but she died when he was thirteen. She would usually resolve all the quarrels between him, his mother and his sister. Pets: He finds a Fennec fox at a river in the beginning of the story. When he was little (5 years old till 13 years old) he would take care of the hedgehogs in his grandma’s garden.

A fennec is highly unusual, as they are from Africa, and the Sahara no less. That being said, they aren’t endangered so I could see one somehow getting shipped in as part of the exotic pets trade and escaping a pet store or something similar. They are very cute and likely to be sold as pets.

Hobbies: He used to like reading and writing. After he moved out he also started to enjoy cooking for himself. He’s very obsessed about his weight, so he works out a lot by jogging in the park that’s nearby his apartment and going for a swim in the pool where he is signed up at.

Sounds good in theory, but is can be hard to avoid crowds/touching people during peak times of the year at swimming pools. Does going to the pool and being in front of people in nothing but swimwear make him nervous?

Likes: Sleeping and eating healthy food. The tired and burning feeling he gets after a good work out. Water, drinking or swimming. Thunderstorms at night. Warm, scented baths. The flowers he takes care of at the park. The smell of books. Soft clothes. Doing household chores.

Dislikes: Lots of noise. Small talk. Nosy people. Crowds. Physical contact, especially from strangers. Messy rooms. Grease. Being wrong. Asking for help and needing it in general.

He seems like a very sensory focused person, which is pretty cool.

Personality: Yat-sen is a soft-spoken introvert, who is violent minded. He hates conflict and strong emotions, so he avoids situations that could cause either of them. He tends to pent up his frustrations and when he needs to vent he goes for an extra long jog or He always has been someone who is heavily dependent on routine and planning, so he makes a to-do list every evening for the next day. He likes being knowledgeable about everything, so he leaves time open every day to do research about something he found interesting that day.

He struggles a lot with his weight, because he used to be pretty overweight when he was younger and that caused a lot of very unpleasant situations. He also struggles with depression since a couple of years, it was never a suicidal sort of depression though. He can’t find enjoyment in his hobbies and even when he tried switching up things a lot, nothing seemed to excite him. He gave up on trying to find a new hobby and he just fell back into his old rhythm, he does most things on auto-pilot now.

He works well under pressure, but after he is released from it, he feels very anxious and stressed, so he also tries to avoid pressure as much as possible. He has a fondness for small animals since they calm him down. He spaces out a lot when he is doing something that does not require his 100% attention, so he takes long to finish things, also because he’s a die-hard perfectionist. He is a coward that avoids everything he doesn’t like instead of overcoming it. He gives up on people and things quickly if things don’t work out perfectly off the bat.

A couple things that seem to conflict. Why would someone who works well under pressure and even becomes upset when not under pressure avoid pressure? Most perfectionists and workaholics I know actively seek out tasks and problems to keep their mind busy. Giving up easily also doesn’t seem to fit into the perfectionist mindset. If anything perfectionists tend to put too much effort into things.

He is very good at building and keeping habits, but they’re hard to get rid off. He easily gets addicted to things, they don’t always have to be bad things, but he knows he’s susceptible so he is cautious of trying new things he doesn’t understand completely.

If he’s good at building habits, which a perfectionist probably would be, why is he bad at putting effort into things that aren’t inherently perfect? It seems weird that he’s willing to put in so much effort into himself but not really anything else if he is labeled as a perfectionist. Maybe self conscious or hard on himself would be a better term for him.

History: He used to be a very fat kid, so he was shamed and shunned a lot by his family and classmates. He developed an inferiority complex and an eating disorder which never really went away. He grew up in Singapore for most of his life where he learned English and Mandarin. Mandarin was the main language used in his neighborhood, but since almost everything was taught in English at school in Singapore he grew up Bilingual. He was an overachiever at school and genuinely enjoyed studying, so he always got good grades. He was really interested in literature, however, so he told his mother he wasn’t planning on becoming any sort of doctor, lawyer or whatever she wanted him to be. He already had anxiety problems at a young age so he didn’t want to be involved in such high-pressure jobs either way. He said he wanted to be a literature collector and own a bookstore, so he was going to earn an English and business degree.

Specifically an English degree or a literature degree? Since this takes place in Singapore I’m not very sure.

This was one of the many disputes between him and his mother besides his weight. He also tended to have some interests that his mother saw as too feminine, so she accused him of being gay and tried to ‘fix’ him. They also fought a lot because he was brought up as Taoist, but he accused his mother of being a fake believer and such since she was always so hateful and judgmental according to him. His grandmother from his mother’s side lived very close so he used to go there all the time to relax and hear some of his grandmother’s stories. She also educated him about Taoism and helped him read the Tao Te Ching, so he was very fond of her and he loved her very much. She gave him all the love he was missing at home. He fought with his sister mostly about stupid things, like who ate the last cookie and such, but sometimes the remarks would be very nasty. On both sides.

Taoism is a very interesting religion and learning directly from his grandmother would help explain his vastly different opinion on things from his mother, who sounds like she might be more influenced by the general opinion in Singapore on things like Homosexuality and weight. The fact that you admit that Yat-Sen was not innocent in fighting with his sister is good, as sibling fights are rarely one sided.

When Yat-sen was sixteen he lied to his sister An about seeing her at the time boyfriend cheating on her to get back at her for something, but he didn’t know they were just about to get engaged (his sister was 21 at the time) and she got into a big fight with her boyfriend which resulted in a break-up. When Yat-sen finally came clean about it, she wouldn’t talk to him at all and did not keep contact with him after she moved out two years later. Only after three more years when Yat-sen sincerely apologized and they talked it out could she forgive him. Mostly because it turned out the ex-boyfriend was only after her because of their father’s money because he was deeply in debt from gambling. He got thrown in prison for stealing money from seniors by pretending to help them carry their groceries to their home and then taking their savings and running off.

You mentioned earlier that he and his sister get along very well now and that there seems to be no hard feelings between the siblings, which I find hard to believe. Even if Yat-Sen, with all his heart, felt remorse for his actions and even if the boyfriend turned out to be a bad person, I know that if I had been the sister, I would not have fully forgiven him. It’s a strong mark of character to potentially ruin two people’s lives as an act of revenge and the fact that all is forgiven because the boyfriend wasn’t very nice after all feels rather cheap, like there was no negative effect and Yat-Sen is almost rewarded for doing something that is honestly a horrible thing to do. Like, the sister can forgive him if she chooses, but to have absolutely no hard feeling about it at all is quite strange.

“…forgiveness does not mean you become best friends with the person who wronged you. Forgiveness is not saying what happened was ok. Forgiveness is not saying you accept the person who wronged you. Instead, forgiveness is choosing to accept what happened as it happened rather than what could or should have happened. Forgiveness can mean that you let go. Forgiveness can mean you love from a distance. Forgiveness can mean you step into your present rather than anchoring in the past.” -Psychology Today, The Psychology of Forgiveness, Sept. 16, 2014

Yat-sen’s dad was almost never home because he usually worked overseas and traveled a lot as a representative in a big firm in Singapore. When he was home, however, the talk was mostly small talk and very basic questions, like “How is school?” and “So are there any girls you like?”. Yat-sen thought his father didn’t even try to make an effort to get to know him because he kept asking the same questions, even over the phone when he would call his mother.

The truth was that his father did try to get to know him, but he had nothing to start with since he had become so estranged from his family over time. He did not know what to ask and he did not want to make Yat-sen uncomfortable, so he quickly stopped after a few minutes of talking since it was very obvious Yat-sen did not like it. He also did not know of the tension at home, which escalated after grandmother died.

After the death of his grandmother, Yat-sen fell into a cycle of anxiety and self-harm by starvation and things at school become worse. By age sixteen he had lost so much weight he was clinically underweight, but his mother was happy to finally not have to be ashamed for her fat son. When he finally turned 18 he left for college and decided to live on campus to escape the toxic situation at home. He went to study Marketing and Business Development. Marketing took 4 years for a Bachelors degree and Business Development 3 years, so he was 25 years old when he finished.

During his studies he took on various part-time jobs to start to pay for his own apartment and bills, so he wasn’t so dependent on his parents. After his studies, he kept his job at one of the bigger libraries that are also a part of a bookstore a few blocks further, for experience and he got upgraded to a full-time employee. Now he shifts between the library and the store during the week, but he doesn’t mind that too much.

Overall a very well thought out backstory and personality. You clearly put a lot of thought into both his positive and negative traits, which is very good! I can see him being a solid character to build a story around. The mother seems a bit one dimensional, but if we are seeing this from the son’s perspective that’s not unusual.

Any Extras?(For example: A Harry Potter OC might talk about their wand or a Naruto OC might talk about their jutsu): Don’t think so, if you have any questions, you can ask away!

Most of any questions I might have I typed out while reading the character sheet.

Final Notes: I’m so sorry this is so long and that the way of describing is so all over the place. I didn’t know if I should stick to a telegram-style of writing, in the end, it got scrapped, haha.

It’s all good, as long as it is somewhat easy on the eyes for reading I can handle it.

I have a bit of an idea on what he probably looks like based off of the description you gave but just to be sure when you get some pictures of him feel free to send them in if you want the “First three OCs submitted get free art” offer. Sorry I didn’t have more to say, without the context of a fandom I have to just go off of what I can gather from the character sheet without knowing anything about the world or surrounding characters, so I hope you’re happy with the critique.

#Other #New OC #submission #No Fandom

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housetyrellian · 7 years

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26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

ArthamirHome:His ancestral home, Manor Tyrellian, sits on the southern end of Lancer's Valley in the Thalassian Southern Marches, a couple dozen miles or so west of Thalassian Pass. Manor is something of an misnomer for the place, which is a fortress that was converted into a well-fortified residence. It is built on top of the road that passes through the valley and terminates in the Ghostlands a few miles south of the Manor itself. The east gate opens onto a barren stretch of rocky soil that leads to a narrow road magically carved through the cliffs by Arth's ancestors. The west gate's view is more scenic, being at the top of a hill overlooking the lower part of the valley, including the small village of Dawnhallow (and the tenements and other hastily-built structures thrown up by camp followers in recent crowded around it and packed with five times as many people) and three small wooden forts protecting the other side of the village. The panorama is idyllically rural. Livestock (mostly sheep, goats, and pigs) wander about under the watchful eye of their keepers, carefully guided away from damaging orchards and patchwork farmland, some of which is built on tiers to make the most of the hilly, uneven ground. The further one looks, though, the more rugged the landscape gets, as agriculture becomes sparse and isolated in a sea of evergreens broken up by islands of granite rises. Inside the walls is much less idyllic. A library, citadel, infirmary, and manor house are the only large buildings, the former three on the lower eastern bailey (or courtyard, ward, etc) and the last on the higher western one. If anyone wants to hear about the size of the place or arrangement, buildings, fortifications, or why things were built the way they were, send an ask about that - this seems mostly concerned with aesthetics, so I'll focus on that.Oddly enough, Arth and his immediate family life in the citadel, not the more luxurious (by Tyrellian standards) manor house. By the standards of the nobility, the rooms are almost spartan: one first enters the parlor, a homey room with a large hearth and fireplace, furnished with a darkwood couch or two and a number if chairs, all comfortably padded. His favorite is his armchair, which sits by the fire. Seat cushions and other textiles tend to be made in Tyrellian black-and-gold coloration. Elegantly arranged paintings, vases, and the like are strategically placed to ensure there is no tackily bare areas, but conservation of decoration is definitely in use. Off of the parlor are his office, solar, and bedroom. The office is far less conservative - patriotic memorabilia, captured banners, weapons, armor and other trophies, and things of that nature abound. The furniture is similar, though, including a large desk covered - COVERED - in a chaotic mess of paperwork, a problem cured only when his far more organized adopted daughter Jaira finds the mess to be too egregious to bear and goes to clean up. She avoids this, however, as Arthamir's absentmindedness and workaholism has resulted in more than a few half-finished meals buried under the dread Mount Paperwork after having been set down "for just a moment."The bedroom and solarium are much like the parlor, the former being dominated by a large four-poster bed.Personal taste:In general, Arth likes things simple and functional, but finely-made with quality materials, and usually old-fashioned. Any adornment or decoration is usually either very subtle or significant in some way, and often both.Clothing:His usual clothing amounts to three outfits, with copies or variations for when clothes must be laundered. Naturally, one includes his Blood Knight dress armor - fully functional, of course, and custom-made for his body. Milanese plate armor is a good reference.His usual field wear, though, is reminiscent of the armor of his family's traditional Cavalier Guard. Over his arming-coat is a long-sleeve ringmail shirt that ends at the hips, over which a cuirass, vambraces, rerebraces, robust pauldrons, and a gorget are worn. His gauntlets - half-gauntlets, anyway - are only armored on the outside of his hand; the grip is only the leather of the glove, to help offput the limits imposed by steel grip regardless of how dexterous the joints are. The torso armor is mirrored in the lower body, which is clad in mail chausses encased in all the usual leg plate armor. His helm bears a short white plume (to help identify him in battle) with a cross-hatched visor. The helm is enchanted to hold his hair in place under it. With either suit of armor, he wears the cloak and tabard of the Blood Knight Order, made of finely woven silk, and a scabbard resembling a rifle case for his longsword, Thori'sin. The latter has a shoulder strap that can be worn either diagonally for comfort or over one shoulder for ease of access, with loops that allow it to be tied securely to a saddle or his belt at the hip, if he so chooses. The cloak is usually worn with his civilian-wear, as well, and fastens at either lapel (so it cannot be used to choke him) by black iron pins engraved with the Blood Knight insignia on his right side and his Knight-Champion's insignia on his left. The symbols are painted red to stand out from the metal.When armor is not needed (whether literally or symbolically), he wears his arming-coat alone. The high collar has a black iron pin on either side, with the Thalassian Phoenix engraved on his left and the Tyrellian sigil on his right, inlaid with brass. It resembles a real life Marine dress uniform in most other respects, with brass buttons (or gold, at formal events). He favors tall, sturdy leather boots. At his side, when Thori'sin is not needed and/or would be too large and cumbersome, he tends toward a khopesh, the blunt inner edge painted red. Unlike most models of the weapon type, his has a cross-and-knuckle guard, similar to many rapiers. His sheathes and scabbards tend to be plain black leather, unadorned except for brass end caps and a brand of the Thalassian Phoenix near the top, dyed red. If he is carrying a weapon - and even on the rare occasions he is not, if he can - a misericordia dagger is belted on his right hip. Though it is rare, he sometimes wears a variant of his arming-coat with steel discs sewn into the lining, called brigandine. Hair: Perhaps surprisingly, he takes very good care of his hair. It's long and thick and red like burnished copper, clean and well groomed to excess. He wears it just past his shoulders, with the bangs swept to the side. Magical hair products keep it all in place, barring something worse than helmet hair mucking it up.Appearance:Tall and broad-shouldered, but rather slim. One gets the distinct impression that if he didn't work hard at remaining fighting-fit, he'd be scarecrow-scrawny instead of lean and hard. He is covered in scars from head to toe, some older than others, but most earned in the last decade or so (compared to more than 600 years of relative peacetime soldiering). His build and fine, high cheekbones suggest he was handsome once, but the discoloring scar tissue, ugly slash-lines lines, and irreparably crooked nose have dashed that to pieces. Nevertheless, his lopsided smile and warm, friendly nature somehow manage to make even his mangled features approachable. For funsies, since I wrote it up for an RP anyway, here's Jaira in her room in the Tyrellian city apartments:For how serious she is at... any other time, really, Jaira's room may be a shock. Hell, SHE might be a shock, having changed into what looks like an authentic Imperial Pandaren gown, albeit in a style similar to a Darnassian Lunar kimono, dark purple silk with swirl designs in darker purple velvet and thread-of-gold. In stand nearby designed to hold it over her at an angle a servant might in a more formal situation is a traditional painted Chi'ji parasol - an ancient example, what's more, restored to serviceable condition. Being priceless beyond what any Tyrellian could afford, the only explanation is that she actually commissioned an expedition to find it... just like the countless tapestries, banners, paintings, pottery, statues, weapons, armor, and sundry other trophies and mementoes, all around. Even the furniture is Pandaren, and the tea smells of Jade Forest Darjeeling. Jaira is seated on a cushion behind a - traditional Pandaren, of course - darkwood tea table. Behind the door (having opened it) is Lt Quickbeam, who is very grateful that her OWN traditional Pandaren armor conceals her face. Even her weapon had been replaced by a Pandaren three-ring saber, and her tabard had received a treatment similar to what the Horde colors endured for the Huojin.

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tipsycad147 · 5 years

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The Zodiac Signs as Stevie Nicks Songs!

The Signs of the Zodiac as Stevie Nicks Songs!

Are you as big of a Stevie Nicks fan as I am? I have loved Stevie Nicks since my childhood and continue to love her. Last year I saw her live in concert in Tampa and was totally smitten with the white witch. Recently I got to wondering, what would it be like if Stevie Nicks sang a song for each zodiac sign? I decided to put that idea into reality with this list of the signs as Stevie Nicks songs!

Aquarius: Rhiannon

“All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind.” Aquarius is an air sign and also symbolically the “water bearer”. This means the characteristics of an air sign and water sign will manifest in the Aquarius person. They are great communicators, imaginative, and can either be introvert or extrovert. They are often easy to get along with, like most air signs, but are flighty in certain situations. The song Rhiannon reminds me of the Aquarius – ethereal, liberated, and someone who needs time to themselves.

Pisces: Crystal

“Drove me through the mountains through the crystal-like clear water fountain. Drove me like a magnet to the sea.” If you know a Pisces person, you will know how attached they are to the water. They are truly “fish” people – in and out. They don’t feel right if they’re not near a body of water. Emotions and intuitions run high in this sign, which are both characteristics of the water element. In the song Crystal, Stevie Nicks sings of a love that drove her through obstacles “to the sea”. This fits a Pisces person in so many ways!

Aries: Rooms on Fire

“Maybe I’m just thinking that the rooms are all on fire, every time that you walk in the room.” Aries is one of those fire signs who light up a room when they walk into it – making the people around him or her feeling as if the entire place is on fire. Rooms on Fire is the perfect song to describe the personality of an Aries – the Ram. They are stubborn individuals and push to always get their way, but they are also passionate and will fight like a ram for love.

Taurus: Beauty and the Beast

“My love is a man who’s not been tamed. Oh my love lives in a world of false pleasure and pain. We come from different worlds we are the same.” For some reason when I think of the Taurus sign, the image of the beast from Beauty and the Beast pops into mind. The Taurus sign is an earth sign and is grounded heavily on this planet. He or she collects earthly possessions and can be possessive in love; however, they are also VERY romantic and know how to provide and care for their loved ones. The Taurus sign is truly a beauty and a beast in one.

Gemini: Wild Heart

“Don’t blame it on me. Blame it on my wild heart.” As an air sign and as the “twin” sign in the zodiac, Geminis have a hard time making up their minds. They are just as wild as a Sagittarius, which is why these two signs tend to make good friends. Once Gemini says one thing and does another, they just need to sing Wild Heart by Stevie Nicks. Trap them in a routine, and their wild hearts will fly them away in the other direction. Give Gemini his or her freedom and go with their flow and they’ll be yours forever.

DISCLOSURE: I may earn a small commission for my endorsement, recommendation, testimonial, and/or link to any products or services from this website. Your purchase helps support my work in bringing you information about the paranormal and paganism.

Cancer: Leather and Lace

“I need you to love me, I need you today. Give to me your leather, take from me my lace.” Cancer is the crab, a water sign, and is ruled by the moon. What does this equal? Emotions, baby! Cancers are ultra-emotional, sometimes to a fault. At the same time, their emotions are a good thing as it causes them to be highly sensitive to those around them. They tend to give of themselves to the ones they love freely, which can sometimes lead to insecurities. Leather and Lace is the Stevie Nicks song that perfectly represents Cancer in love and life.

Leo: Gold Dust Woman

“Rock on ancient queen. Follow those who pale in your shadow…gold dust woman.” Leos are the lions, the rulers of the night sky and of the zodiac. Because Leos are royalty, and because they love shiny things, Stevie Nicks’ song Gold Dust Woman seemed the perfect fit. Gold seems to be the Leo’s color: the golden mane of a lion, the gold reflected in their eyes, the gold dripping from their mouths. Leos are extroverted, strong, and have no problem dragging hearts through the mud if it is in their best interest. The golden Leo will leave you in the dust if you do them wrong.

Virgo: Edge of Seventeen

“But the moment that I first laid eyes on him all alone on the edge of seventeen.” The Virgo is the eternal virgin (maybe not literally but figuratively speaking). He or she may seem shy and elusive when you first meet them, as well as naive. They like to keep their affairs private, just like a virgin. When I think of the Virgo, I think forever young on the Edge of Seventeen.

Libra: Landslide

“Well, I’ve been afraid of changing ’cause I’ve built my life around you.” Libras are lovers of harmony and peace and continually want to make the people around them happy. Sometimes this is towards their own demise and they become unbalanced even though they are the keeper of the scales. Libra loves to love and take care of others but finds it a struggle to care for him or herself. Eventually the landslide will bring them down and they have to climb the mountain again in search of balance.

Scorpio: Whole Lotta Trouble

“Would you change your mind, at the very last minute. When I want something I get it. This could be a whole lotta trouble for you.” Scorpio, the Scorpion, is faithful, focused, and brave but the scorpio’s sting is deadly. Sometimes dubbed as the “lover” of the zodiac, you will have a romantic relationship with this sign; however, the Scorpio can be secretive and manipulative. This is where the trouble comes in. When Scorpio warns you, you better listen.

Sagittarius: Gypsy

“She is dancing away from you now. She was just a wish…And her memory is all that is left for you now. You see your gypsy.” Sagittarius is the seeker, the universal wanderer. If a Sagittarius is in one place for too long of a time, he or she will bail. When you ask a Sagittarius what they like to do for fun and what they need in a relationship, they will almost always answer “travel” or “spontaneity”. The Sagittarius is a free-spirited individual and hates being tied down. A true gypsy at heart, similar to the Gemini’s wild heart.

Capricorn: 24 Karat Gold

“My 24 karat gold. There was some love to be sold (chain of chains). You said you might be coming back to town.” Ahhh, Capricorn. The goat, an earth sign, the steadfast one. The Capricorn is grounded, just as the Taurus, and revels in stability and security above all else. Capricorns are often labelled “workaholics” and therefore chase the dollar bills…or 24 karat gold. They come off as hard on the outside, but but are soft inside. If you tag a capricorn for life, you’re as good as gold.

https://otherworldlyoracle.com/the-zodiac-signs-as-stevie-nicks-songs/

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viralhottopics · 7 years

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The 30 Day Challenge Each Zodiac Sign Needs To Take In Order To Live Beautifully

Aries: Watch a movie each day challenge

Netflix is great, but how about expanding your knowledge and inspiration for the next 30 days with a movie marathon? A friend of mine took this challenge while he was studying to become an actor and spent a couple minutes each morning reviewing the film he watched the night before. This proved an excellent exercise to access not only great art, but also to nurture his curiosity, to enhance his thinking and to learn amazing pick-up lines (my point exactly). Make a list of the films youve always wanted to watch and never had the chance to, subscribe to local cinemas to stay informed about premieres or offer to host some movie nights at your place for your friends and their cinema aficionado acquaintances. Soon enough, youll have a complete new agenda to look up to!

Taurus: Living without social media challenge

This social media thing has invaded your life, hasnt it, Taurus? You spend your minutes before falling asleep with your phone rather than with your SO, endlessly scrolling newsfeeds and hopelessly spying on your current Instagram obsessions. Before superficially sighing again and letting your ennui grow stronger than your sense of humour, consider cutting your own access to social channels for one month. Wait, what, you work there? That doesnt mean you cant still do it. Create a separate Facebook profile (without adding ANY friends) if you need one for your work, and deactivate your main profile instead. Oh, I know, you think youre gonna die without your newsfeed tabloid each day, but whenever you postpone going to the toilet in the morning because you want some extra time spying your ex on Facebook, remember your bladder is not an infinite well. Other than that, youll be surprised how much spare time you will have access to. You might even want to pass this to your social media obsessed friend(s) next time their lunch gets cold because they HAD to Instagram it.

Gemini: Dance class challenge

Cancer: Slow cooking challenge

If your diets been more vodka on the rocks and preheated meals this winter, Cancer, you might consider breaking up with your fast foodie knack and get yourself prepared a real, delicious and healthy snack. Even if youll find it boring and painstaking in the first week to actually move your ass to the market, analyze recipes and ingredients, spend time figuring how to mix organic avocados with goat cheese and chutney, doing so will make room for creativity in the kitchen. Plus, your body will thank you for that. From all its pores.

Leo: Learning a new skill challenge

It only takes 20 hours to become pretty good at something new. That means 45 minutes each day for a month, and a realistic plan to get you closer to your next dream job, fruition of a hobby or take-off of a business youve been long musing to kickstart. You might be surprised how fast your mind wraps itself around this new outlook and youll feel so much confident when youve touched first base with something youve always wanted to do but never considered yourself competent enough to actually do it. Now its the time!

Virgo: Deep cleansing challenge

Rest, eat, meditate, repeat. If youve been struggling with a difficult project, ran the mile to burnout at work or postponed washing your hair for a whole week (OR, even worse, slept in your make-up because you once read Kim Kardashian gets away with that which she totally doesnt, BTW), its high time to put a hold on your FOMO and workaholic inside and get a good and completely deserved rest. This means 9 hours of sleep each night, drinking lemon water each morning on an empty stomach, comforting your body with Swedish massage and eating healthy and vitamin reach meals three times a day, no exception. You might also want to swipe alcohol and caffeine while youre at it, and treat your body and mind the well deserved rest it needs.

Libra: Vippassana meditation challenge

Scorpio: Arts and crafts challenge

The creative adult is the child who survived. If youve been feeling disconnected from your hearts wishes and feel like your anxiety is the only thing standing between you and that big dream of yours, this is a good time to actively listen to your inner child, inner artist, inner voice, and give them some credit. Take a painting class, start scribbling your thoughts into poems, play with clay or take a graphic design course. Whenever I tell myself I cant do anything artistic because I lack the skill, I think of my friend who channelled her creative energy into 38 paintings over the course of 30 days (!) after she fell in love. And even if youre not in love, you might end up learning an important lesson about what you really love in life.

Sagittarius: Yoga mat challenge

Capricorn: Be a tourist in your own city challenge

I know, we all love to travel and we get this fantastic high when were mingling with new people in different cultures. Then, back home, we find ourselves numbed and bored by the lacklustre of the city we inhabit, often forgetting the myriad of possibilities and attractions that make it so catchy for tourists each season after all. Take some time to sit with your mood while revisiting all the shows, galleries, museums and free activities your city has to offer. Rent a bike and explore the lesser known areas of your city. Book a nice dinner to a venue youve never stepped into before. Wear those beautiful clothes that you only sport on holidays (because you feel its tacky to dress nice for no occasion) and plan some getaways to local events with your close friends. You will feel tired but extremely happy and thankful for the energy boost your social life and your mind will get from this.

Aquarius: Surf camp challenge

Your body craves interactive sports that help you tone that beach body and boost your adrenaline in the same time. Take a month to relax and refresh your system while learning to surf with a hot instructor in a breezy resort. Lena Dunham just took one on the premiere episode of GIRLS season 6 and it made up for some good old soul searching too. Dont forget to SPF!

Pisces: Diary of dreams challenge

This is a fantastic way to connect to your subconscious and learn decoding the messages it sends to you while youre resting between the sheets. If youve been having nightmares, or if youre simply curious how your dream world relates to events in your waking life, you might start a dream journal. Get yourself a beautiful notebook and begin collecting your dreams each morning before breakfast, trying to be as explicit and detailed as possible. Reflect on the notes you made at the end of each week and soon you will be able to deconstruct your subconscious mind and connect in surprising ways to the aspects of your life that need improvement.