#Branwenn

[harleyhasguessed]

And of course branwenns halloween outfit!!

[karlaaqualight]

The Little Witch of the Forest

Chapter 1

It was a good day when he caught sight of her, even if she disappeared almost immediately.

She hasn't tried to lure him into a trap this time, which he considered a small victory. She hasn't led him astray, but on the other hand she hasn't spoken to him much either. Nadarr was desperate for a conversation, a chance to speak to her. She was obviously a creature of intelligence – there was no mistaking the glimmer in her eyes – only a sharp-minded person would behave the way she did.

She had proceeded with caution, studied her stalker, kept her distance. He supposed that if she hadn't tried to hex him into oblivion despite her clear threat the day of their first meeting it meant that she wasn't past seeing reason.

She lived secluded, and only the gods knew what she was truly capable of. It was a thought worth pondering – especially since Nadarr had so much time to think when she reverted to silence.

The more he thought about it, the more inclined he was to reconsider his mother's tales and the legend surrounding the witch. Could it be that she was the owl and the raven that seemed to follow him during his first weeks of wandering? Would she answer truthfully if he asked? If it was him he wouldn't tell a soul.

Sometimes he thought she was there but didn't see anything. On other occasions he saw her, and then she walked round a tree and was no longer there. On rare instances he thought he heard footsteps, or the rustling of leaves and branches indicating someone was coming, but nothing moved at all.

Branwenn sighed, and knelt to the ground. This man was tenacious, she had to give him that. Her hands dug in the wet ground and ripped out the roots she needed, storing them in her basket before she rose to her feet again. A slight shiver made her hair stand on end, and she knew he wasn't far.

He was good. Very perceptive – for a man. Despite the wards she cast about her he somehow always found his way back towards her, even forcing her to use tricks to lure him away. The sun had barely risen in the foggy morning, but already she sensed he was near, the sound of his footsteps against the ground growing closer.

“Um, hello,” he says almost shyly. He’s greeted with silence. Not a surprise.

It has been like this for weeks now; he finds her, chats mostly about trivial things. She rarely talks back, a few nods, a quiet hmm, follows her around for a while then says his farewells. Only to repeat the next day, everyday.

She walked on, her eyes fixed on the ground, looking for herbs and mushrooms. Would he ever give up? He was young and reckless, but she sensed no danger from him. When his eyes locked with hers, she saw not fear like she usually did in the eyes of men, but profound respect, awe, and envy. Truly she pitied the poor creature. She wished her fate to no living being, not even the highly superstitious people.

Having found a tree with the mushrooms she was looking for, she stopped walking again. Her mind constantly jumped back to the Direnor, unable to push him out of her thoughts. So far she has been able to keep her home hidden from view, leading him in the wrong direction every time he came too close, but she knew it was but a matter of time until he slipped past her vigilant eyes and saw where she lived.

Why couldn't he give up like the others? Run away in fear? She greeted him in the worst way possible, in the middle of the night, by surprise, and let her shadows loom over him like the wide open jaws of a predator ready to rip his head clean off. And here he was, still walking in her tracks.

It’s been a few years since she found her place under the sun here in the woods of Glacier's Forge, a little hut right next to the waters, living a peaceful and quiet life, learning everything she could from her mother, and staying mostly away from others. It was either a life on the run, or a life in isolation. Her mother chose the second, and Branween and her brother followed. She didn’t have much of a choice anyway.

When their mother passed, Uhtred and Branwenn were left alone, with no soul to rely on but at each other. Hunting and gathering to survive. But soon summers turned shorter, winters longer and crueler than the last.

It was just then that they started to show their faces on the busy roads of the village, her presence quickly becoming the never-ending source of whispers across the town’s market. Her visits were short and widely sporadic but Uhtred didn’t sink well with the wide attention others gave them, especially to his sister. Branwenn didn’t mind much, however. She found her little fun in being the wellhead of other people’s stories, having everyone think she’s a witch.

If only they knew she was something far worse.

People feared her and she would be lying if she said she didn’t take advantage of it. They talked about how she could bewitch a man with her smile, so it was a smile that became her weapon of choice, along with her imagination. She would play around with them, usually inventing a variety of stories about her newest potions or curses, and tell to the few traders from whom she would buy her beams and necessities, and all with a smile most charming anyone has ever seen.

It had been easy back in their village; people more or less knew of them. The mysterious woman, mother of two children that lived in the woods, apart from the village. Uhtred fought alongside the warriors when Frost Ones were near, while Branwenn and her mother tended the wounded if there were any. They were wary about them but knew they’re ultimately trustworthy. In Glacier’s Forge was a different story. People there were in a permanent state of vigilance and tension.

After a while, Naddar stopped talking. Silence fell between them but she could feel his eyes on her. It was becoming unnerving.

Finally, she spoke. “What is it?”

The question caught him by surprise. She stared at him while he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Today his autumn hair was braided back in two tight braids. Only a few locks of hair rested on his forehead and over his green eyes. The lean muscles of his body only accentuate his youth. He was strange even by Direnor standards.

The physical appearance of her and Uhtred was much like any Direnor but in close inspection, people could notice the otherworldly energy around them. Most of the time they are ignored but always on guard around them. Few knew about their nature and that was good, if the rest of the Direnors knew…well, they would be far less “friendly”. Like the lovely death glares of some of the mages.

Nadarr looked at her, a little sheepishly. “Well, Prince Halvar and his crew came back from their mission. And a friend of ours, Revy, lost an eye in the conflict. Is there any balm or remedy you could make to help her heal? I mean, she was given something to ease the pain, but I don’t know if it will help with the scar.”

Tilting her head to the side with a frown, she narrowed her mismatched eyes ever so slyly.

“Ah, I-I’ll pay you, of course.” He added quickly.

“I’ll need to know the condition of the wound,” Branwenn uttered.

“Um, would it not be best if you go see it yourself?”

Branwenn faced him deadpanned. “No. Describe it.”

After Nadarr described Revy’s condition, silence spread on for a few minutes while he observed her.

“Very well,” she finally said. She then looked past him and said, “You came quicker than usual, brother.”

Nadarr quickly turns only to face the chest of the very displeased Uhtred. The siblings were very disturbing to be around with, even more so Uhtred.

The first time he met the man, Nadarr saw how he tore a Frozen One in half without breaking a sweat. When he had found out that Branwenn and Uhtred were siblings, a strange wave of relief washed over him. But when the thought of the mute man thinking he was after his sister, Nadarr felt a stone sink in his stomach. It was more than obvious he didn’t appreciate his attention towards his sister. Although Uhtred shared the same predator glance of Branwenn, Nadarr was a little more terrified of the first than the latter. He was more aware of the damage the massive man could do to his body.

“G-greetings, Uhtred.” His greeting came out creaked and nervous, much to his embarrassment.

Uhtred stared at him up and down, to finish with an acknowledging nod, a disapproving look still in his eyes. He had found the presence of the young man more irritating and bothersome. The constant visits of his could bring trouble. Silence stretched awkwardly to Nadarr until Branwenn talked again.

“You may retrieve the remedy tomorrow,” she inquired. A mild quo for him to take his leave.

But nevertheless, Nadarr smiled, and fixed his brilliant eyes on her. She had asked him to come back, finally. Even if it was for something of little significance like this, he couldn’t avoid feeling butterflies in his stomach. With that smile, in spite of herself, Branwenn’s chest warm even after there was no sight of Nadarr left.

She felt the gaze of her brother. She queried, raising a brow. “What?”

He placed the kill of the day on the ground and quickly hand signed, “I thought you had tricked him enough to not find you, again.”

The traces of a smirk tilted up on her lips. “Worry I’ll start looking at him as a suitor? I’m past my breeding age, after all.”

He frowned hard this time, twisting his mouth, “By Rotar, don’t joke with that.”

“I have placed traps more often than not, but he is quite persistent and intuitive.”

“Try harder,” he demanded.

It was her turn to glare at him. Before she could say something, she took a deep breath.

“Look, I know you worry but you know quite well I can take care of myself,” she started. “If I knew he was ill-intended, I would have killed him the first time he approached.”

“I know, I know,” Uhtred signed admittedly. He knelt down to take the hunt on his hand to place on his shoulder once more. He then places his free hand on his sister’s shoulder and mouthed, “Just be careful.”

“Always,” she said with a reassuring smile.

___________ § ___________

Some days he doesn’t see her at all, like today. She had left the remedy tied on a tree’s branches with two notes. One with instructions for the remedy, the other with an order:

Leave the payment here.

Nadarr looked around cautiously as he tied the small basket with the pastries and other sweets he had made where she asked. He worried something or someone would take it while he left it, but the woman most likely had made sure for the payment to not be picked by anyone but herself.

Nadarr is left with the bitter taste of disappointment of not being able to see her that day. Even he could not ignore the loneliness of his daily endeavour and relished her company – although she mostly ignored him or lectured him, he found her rather endearing.

He was sure that she had grown to appreciate his presence just as he did hers. After years of living alone in the woods, surely she must seek out conversation and company other than her brother? What about friends? A lover?

Nadarr’s mind wandered as he sat on the table, while he listened to one of the men tell an elaborate - no doubt somewhat false - tale of the time he took on an angry mother boar. Mead had a way of making men do such things, the more they drank, the sillier they got. Inside the tavern was warm, as the fire in the center roared bringing a glow of life to its surroundings.

Shouts of disbelief whooped from the other patrons sitting around, listening to the tale. The soft, drunk giggles of Lex. Nadarr eyed her from his seat, sated by the drink and food. She was jovial with her sister, along with Revy and Halvar.

“Dude, this smells so nice!” Rev says while inspecting the salve. “I don’t know how you find this, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Nadaar grins at her. “I hope it helps.”

“You have been going regularly to the forest. How is it going?”

Nadarr tensed for a second. He got a feeling he shouldn’t divulge his encounters with Branwenn. At least not yet. “Oh, um, it was good. Got plenty of game once in a while.”

“That’s great!” Rev exclaims excitedly. “It has been quite hard these days to hunt. Next time, I will go with you.”

Taking on hunts alone in the Dead Forest was rarely something that should be done alone unless you had the utmost confidence in yourself. But Nadarr has always liked to do so on his own, although he had always welcomed Revy’s company in huntings. Moreover, there were no more Frozen Ones roaming the forest so it was safe to go there now. Sort of.

“Uh, sure,” he answered without thinking. There was no way Branwenn, or Uhtred, would let him bring someone else in their terrains.

“You should be careful in those woods,” Halvar says concerned. There was a hidden meaning in those words. Nadarr was suspicious Halvar knew something was up, he was his best friend after all.

“Well, of course,” Lex said, lowering her cup of mead. “You never know when you'll find a freaking Frozen One.”

“It's not just that,” Halvar turned to her. “My father used to tell me stories when I was younger.”

“Stories?” Nadarr asked, his shoulders tense.

“About mystic creatures and things that go bump in the dark. It’s dangerous for those tempted to sneak out at night and venture too far into the woods. Something maybe as dark and evil as the Frozen Ones.”

An alarm went off in Nadarr’s brain while his friend talked. And the night he met her came crashing to his mind.

He followed the whispers and gossip of the villagers. Hearing the tails of merchants, fishers and others who would buy remedies from her from time to time. The sun had set hours ago and the moon hadn't been full that night.

The frightful sight before him nearly caused his heart to stop. He stopped breathing, and he would swear the forest also held its breath at that moment.

She looked at him with intent, a sharp glimmer in her glowing eyes. Nadarr turned momentarily into stone, not moving a muscle, not even to breathe. She blinks, as though she was gazing upon a curious creature she had never seen before in her life.

Her face remained hidden in the shadow of her cloak, clothing so dark he couldn't see where it ended and where the night began. Nadarr could make out a nose and a mouth, but before he could fully study her face, she moved.

A brisk, silent movement that seemed to finally free Nadarr of her spell and allowed him to take in some much needed air. She stood a mere few meters away from him but the air was already much more breathable and he could think straight again and not just stare in fascination.

“You are trespassing,” her voice came disembodied, whispering and screaming at the same time, coming from here and there, from the sky above and the earth below, from in and out. The words echoed in his mind as though Nadarr was the one who thought them. He blinked and she was gone.

“What?” He whispered when his voice was returned to him.

Nadarr looked around, seeing nothing in the pitch black night but the glowing eyes of small animals and birds. He still felt her. She was there, watching him, like a predator watching their prey.

“Hags, onis, and banshees are still powerful and dangerous creatures.” Halvar’s voice brought him back to the conversation.

“No one had seen either of those in ages, Halvar.” Liz chuckled.

“But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist anymore,” Lex countered at her twin.

He grew up with these stories. They all did. They were ancient tales passed onto the next generations. Bogeymen parents told their children about how to make them behave, but their people knew very well of their existence. Dineros weren’t the only beings inhabiting Uskar. All sorts of creatures existed in this heavy snow covered land.

And even though her Direnor appearance, Nadarr had the feeling Branwenn was something entirely different.

——————-

Hey there guys! It has been ages since I posted something here. This is a story that hopefully would be short. More to come soon. Branwenn, Nadarr and Uthred are my original characters. Liz, Lex, Revy and Halvar are property of @mrneighbourlove @ridersoftheapocalypse and @s-kinnaly

[thethew]

Excerpt Thingy

Here’s a chapter from my most recent wip, Mark of the Raven. I chose this chapter because it doesn’t have too many spoilers in it and also because it is honestly the pinnacle of my writing career so here you go enjoy!

Chapter Twenty

The Town That Time (And Common Sense) Forgot

Garrett

I came out of the other side of the portal, or wormhole or whatever it was called. I stared down at the crystal in my hands, more formally known as the Tesseract. What can I say, I have a penchant for the dramatic. The crystal sizzled in my hand, a flood of warmth surging through my body. I shivered in the night air, wishing I had chosen something other than my scarf to give to Jack for communication.

I was back.

Where specifically I had no idea, but I knew I had been here before at some point during the last few days. Weeks? I had no idea, but the small suburban setup was eerily similar to something lodged deep in my memory. Why had the Tesseract spit me out here? I had been trying to go somewhere else. Then I saw the sign.

It was quaint, remarkably so. The whole thing was painted a sky blue with lights going around the whole thing. A neon light arrow curved off from the sign and pointed down to a small diner underneath it. The sign, though very faded, clearly read, Diner Diner, A Diner For Diners. The name made something in my mind click and I backed away in panic.

“Nolanville.”

For those of you from Texas or some other place with a city or town called Nolanville, I am not talking about yours. This place is far more terrifying than any of those, especially the one in Texas.

A door slammed in the distance. I jumped in surprise, my nerves getting the better of me. I recognized this place, I even knew what it was called, and that it should be feared, but I couldn’t remember why. If you were to ask me how I knew that the Diner was relatively safe, I’d give you the blankest stare you’ve ever seen.

As the door swung open, the sound of ABBA music assaulted my ears. I glanced around, the tile floors glinting in the flickering light. The jukebox in the corner clicked to a stop, then went back to the beginning of the same song.

“Welcome back Keeper.”

I spun around. The man hadn't been there a few seconds ago. He was sitting at yet another furniture item from the 90’s, quietly eating a burger and fries. His hair looked like someone couldn’t choose whether they wanted salt or pepper and just dumped both on his head instead of making a decision. His button-up shirt and suspenders matched the horrible red and white checkers theme of the diner around him.

“I’m sorry, do I know you? Have I, been here before?”

“Yes, and yes. Although, it wasn’t you those times.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestured for me to sit across from him. I blinked, realizing that another chair had appeared across from the man. I pulled back the chair tentatively and sat down, staring at the man’s forehead, since his eyes made me uncomfortable. The irises were completely silver, like liquid mirrors, reflecting my own eyes back to me.

“To do what you wish, you will require assistance.”

“I asked you a question.”

He looked up from his food, cocking his head to the side. He blinked, once, twice, then returned back to his meal. A bell rang as the door opened. I spun around in a panic to find the same man walking through the door. I glanced over my shoulder to find that he had vanished, the meal completely replenished.

He sat down at the table, and began to eat once more, slowly and quietly. After a few seconds, he glanced up at me and swallowed down his food with a slight choke.

“Welcome back Keeper.”

“You already said that.”

“Did I? Interesting.”

“What am I doing here?”

“Well, you’ve never come here unless you needed help.”

“But I’ve never been here before.”

“Not in this life I suppose, yes. But, once again, my time has come, and once more, I shall not fail you, Lord Branwenn.”

My brow furrowed as the jukebox clicked to a halt halfway through the song. The man grabbed a napkin and wiped his face. The bell at the door rang again and I spun around to watch the man walk through the door again, right as the song began to play at the beginning.

He sat down at the table, once more sliding forward to take small and deliberate bites of his food. I watched as he ate for a while, before looking up at me and having another one of those double takes like from earlier.

“Welcome back Keeper.”

“Again, already said that.”

“Right, where was I?”

“You said I only ever came here if I needed help, and that you wouldn’t fail me.”

“Ah,” he laughed, wiping his mouth with a napkin, probably the same one as before, completely replenished. “In order to do what you wish, you will require assistance. It has always been my duty to provide it.”

“Okay, how?”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the song once more. I was starting to get tired of hearing the chorus of Dancing Queen repeatedly. The man sat down at the table, going through the motions until he glanced up and noticed me again, almost choking on his food the same way as before.

“Welcome back Keeper.”

“Just get to the part where you help me,” I snapped.

“Ah, I see-” he cleared his throat- “I have put together quite the selection this time dear Lord Branwenn. This century is very difficult, not that many heroes to choose from you see, so it took me a while to find the ones that you would need. Simply put, I’ve managed to collect a few-”

The sound of the bell pounded through my mind, I spun around and shouted at the man as he came through the door, making him nearly fall over. He stared at me as I berated him with the summary of everything so he would cut to the chase and explain what the heck was going on.

“I’ve been here before apparently but only when I need help, and now you’re supposed to find it for me but you won’t talk so stop eating and just speak old man!”

He did another double take, “Welcome back Keeper.”

“Tell me who’s supposed to help me,” I demanded.

“Ah, of course,” He pulled a briefcase out of nowhere and placed it on the table gingerly. “These are the young heroes who I believed to be more than adequate assistance for your cause. Together, you should be able to turn back the tides against the future you have seen. Just remember to-”

The bell rang once more.

“Remember to what?”

The voice came from beside me. I spun around to see that the man hadn’t vanished this time. He stared at me so severely, I assumed I had done something wrong. He looked taller, more imposing.

“Rebuke your father’s name. Your cause is too important for such unimportant squabbles over such a thing.”

I glanced at the first document in the briefcase, shaking my head in disbelief at the first name on the list. This would be an interesting trip. After all, it wasn’t every day you spoke to a Traversy about the end of the world.

[capitanogiorgio]

Titre : Petit Cousin, Grandes Fourberies

Rating : Général

Mots : 891 mots

Résumé : Venez rencontrer le petit cousin du Roi Loth d'Orcanie… 

Notes : Pour @helveticaes

[quartzzzzzzz]

Could I ask for a Raven Branwenn?

I sure can. Here she is

[sanguineoath]

do you have a favourite name?

Hmm.. not quite although I do frequent the use of “Renwick”, “Branwenn�� and other similar names when it comes to creating characters.

[suninks-moved]

Hey! I was wondering I you knew any tips for naming characters, especially in specific genres? I know naming characters is kinda an easy thing but I always struggle in finding the right name. Also, if it’s not any trouble, maybe a list of unusual/uncommon names (first and last)?

finding character names

if you’re looking for a name for a character of a certain ethnicity, you can always look up “common [insert country/ethnicity] boy/girl names” and you’ll get some good ideas. baby naming sites are great too. these kinds of websites also usually give meanings behind the names, and pronunciations. 

a few lists:

101 female names

last name masterpost

disney inspired names

regency era names

common surnames

popular given names

least common names in america

generators and general advice:

my advice on making up names

random name generator

coming up with informative names

fantasy name generator, imo kind of cliche but still usable

a few feminine given names with their meanings:

branwenn - fair raven

althalia - healing

valda - spirited warrioress

avyanna - strong, powerful, beautiful

nadia - delicate

vanya - butterfly

chaska - star goddess

vanadey - forest goddess

haruka - spring

eira - snow

farren - wanderer

melanthe - dark flower

hestia - goddess of the hearth

a few masculine given names and their meanings:

cassian - hollow

lucio - light

atlas - titan who holds the sky

augustus - venerable

leander - lion

lorcan - little fierce one

aspen - tree

winston - joy

alistair - defender

gennady - noble

evander - good man

kai - triumph

havadur - high guard

a few surnames i like: 

abernathy

barringer

beauregard

choi

clearwater

crimson

davenport

goodwin

graves

harrington

ives

knight

nakamura

tremaine

van beek

wells

westfield

[asksnowbird]

<3 Happy Valentines Day <3 I was gonna do something bigger but I rather spend it with my own S/O  so have cute little wishes from our favorite pair.

[jokerfan99]

Wrestling Costume: Raven Branwen by ARSONicARTZ

NOW COMES THE CRUEL MOTHER OF YANG, RAAAAVEN BRANWENN    

Interested in commissioning me? Do check out my commission info

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/arsonicartz

[misanthropecopy]

fireredrules’ pokémon team dynamics rp meme

(please repost with everything attached!) answer each prompt with whichever of your muse’s pokémon fit it best. feel free to include multiple pokémon per answer or extra details as to why they might fit the prompt. if one doesn’t apply, just put N/A

who is most likely to steal their trainer’s food?

Snorlax got away with it a few times, however when he began doing it constantly Psyche eventually had to bench press and throw him into a wall [without using psychic powers might I add] to make him stop. He now does it only on rare occasions.

who is most likely to rebel or ignore orders during a battle?

Though not in battle, since Psyche doesn’t want to act like a human trainer ew Spitfire [the Spritzee] and Zorua, are most likely to ignore Psyche’s orders directly. However Spitfire mainly does it whenever she believes that doing so might end up earning appraise from Psyche, while Zorua just does it for the laughs. 

who is the least welcoming of new pokemon/people?

Heatmor and Lucario. Lucario’s relationship with his trainer didn’t end well, as he was abandoned by them and Heatmor has never had good experiences with humans, and he’s not looking to “expand his horizons” anytime soon. 

who is the laziest?

Snorlax. Need I say more?

who wakes up the earliest?

Next to Psyche, I would say Cassian [the Braviary] and Windfeather [the Swellow]. Cassian because his battle-hardened Pokémon whose basically like a drill sergeant, believing that “the early bird catches the worm” and Windfeather because he’s the head scout of Pokémon village. 

who stays up the latest, or doesn’t sleep at all?

Psyche actually. Mainly because she doesn’t require much sleep, slumbering from 2 to 5 hours a night. Plus you don’t want to sleep long when plagued by nightmares from your past and need to remain on constant vigilance in case it comes rearing its ugly head again, am I right? //SHOT Next to her, I guess Noctowl or Banette.

who is the messiest?

Litleo. Spitfire got him into it, now he won’t stop. Also Garbodor. 

who is the loudest?

Garbodor chats the most, cause she genuinely enjoys socializing in general.

who considers themself the ‘leader’?

Psyche has quietly taken on the mantle of the real leader, though not everyone knows it and she refuses to say it out loud. As a result, most of the villagers consider Skystripe to be their leader for his wisdom and because he actually did lead them before secretly handing it over to Psyche. Though other elders such as Mama Shrub [Tangrowth] and Cassian DO consider themselves leaders of their small groups. 

who is the weirdest?

They all can be pretty weird at times, asjkfhgjldh. However I would say Garbodor is the oddest one, due to her tendency to rummage through and collect trash, making up the craziest stories/claims when she’s run out of subjects to talk about and so on. Though I suppose Psyche is the one that probably stands out the most, due to her being a legendary/synthetic/clone of Mew amidst normal Pocket Monsters. 

who is the biggest cuddler?

Minccino, Petilil, and Teddiusra. They were the first ones bold enough to give Psyche a physical touch that was purely soft, and they still snuggle with her the most. 

who gets themselves into trouble the most often?

SPITFIRE. 

who hates bath time?

The fire types and the Meowstic line, but they usually clean themselves by grooming. If they become really dirty like Litleo usually gets, into the river for a bath they go. Spitfire also dislikes bathing, at times.

who gets the most visibly excited from seeing their trainer after a long absence?

Sundapple [the female Meowstic], the Dedenne, Eevee and Oddish.

who is most protective of their trainer?

All of them know Psyche can handle herself, but will protect her at some degree. Skystripe however gets protective of her more than anyone else. He vouched for her the most, when she first arrived and is fully aware that she will deal with things beyond his comprehension in the future, due to her being a legendary AND synthetic Pokémon. He’s a good cat dad.

who uses their charms/cuteness to try and get away with things?

Zorua and Jigglypuff tend to use their cuteness on humans or other Pokémon, to get their way. However they don’t do it on Psyche, because she can see right through their ruse, making the façade not work.

who messes with other trainers for fun?

The Zoroark triplets [Trouble, Shadowflame and Jackal], the ghost-type Pokémon, Jigglypuff, Spitfire and Amoongus. It is both their job and their favorite pastime.

who is the most submissive to their teammates?

Cloud [the Swanna], Flabebe, and Oddish are the most docile of the group.

who is the purest angel?

Eevee, Espur, Foongus and Sundapple.

who gets jealous the most?

Banette and Mimikyu, but mainly towards other things, besides Psyche.

who is the one laying on their trainer’s face in the morning?

Furret or Zorua. 

who is the most distant from their trainer?

Alakazam. Mainly because he has heard rumors about a dangerously powerful Pokémon matching her description [*cough* OG Mewtwo *cough*] and is still wary of her because of it.

who is closest to their trainer?

Mama Shrub, Sundapple and Skystripe.

who is most alike their trainer in personality or habits?

Gothorita 

who races ahead when on a walk?

The Pikachu, Vulpix and Lombre if Psyche chooses to take it slow.

who is the most loyal/obedient?

Poliwhirl, Lilligant, Skystripe and Branwenn [the Staraptor].

who eats the most?

Snorlax, obviously.

who is the quietest?

Next to Psyche, who mainly uses telepathy to communicate I would say it is a tie between Riolu and Gennady [Unfezant].

who is the clumsiest?

Eevee, because he almost always trips over his own feet.

who is the most hotheaded?

The BASCUILIN. The two species do NOT like sharing a body of water with one another, and Psyche often has to subdue them both when their battles get out of hand.

who is the ‘mom pokemon’?

Mama Shrub is the main ‘mom Pokémon’ though Whimsicott, Cinccino, Cloud and Gothorita can go all mom mode if need be as well. Psyche honed her Mamatwo skills, from watching them.

tagged by: No one.​ tagging: EVERYONE. //SHOT

[ivonoris]

Ok so, I have this character Garrett Branwenn. (here comes the tragic backstory) He's from a once noble family known as the Branwenns (obviously) But it's become an assassin guild. His mother was murdered (by his father but he doesn't know this yet) and his sister became "blessed" by Apollo with visions. She went crazy, and his father decided he would threaten her in order for Garrett to obey him. He decides no more and helps one of his targets run away. A gay romance ensues. (eyebrow wiggle)

eyebrow wiggle indeed lmao. but seriously yA’LL NEED TO STOP HAVING SUCH AMAZING CHARACTERS IM RUNNING OUT OF BLANKETS TO WRAP THEM IN!! he’s officially adopted and i lov him! i hope his love interest gives him a lot of snuggles!!

come talk to me about your ocs

[abalonetea]

Since you asked, and update on my bb Garrett Branwenn. Still a badass, still gay af. Honestly hasn't changed that much really. BUT. I'VE FINALLY MADE IT TO THE PART WHERE HE AND JACK START TO FALL IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER AND I'M ON THE VERGE OF SCREAMING AND CRYING SIMULTANEOUSLY

IT’S ALWAYS AMAZING WHEN YOU FINALLY GET TO THE GOOD PARTS OF YOUR STORY THAT’S SO GREAT AND FULFILLING AND JUST? ALL AROUND GOOD VIBES RIGHT THERE!

[karlaaqualight]

It has been a freaking while since I had painted digitally, so cut me some slack ok?

1)Quick doodle of Ashia

2) Uhtred and Branwenn, two characters still in progress.

@ridersoftheapocalypse @s-kinnaly @mrneighbourlove

[thethew]

I forgot about this one lmao

A while ago, I had planned on Mark of The Raven being about the generation after the war. The main character was going to end up with the Raven Talisman and would slowly find out about its first owner. 

Also in this one Garrett and Jack were freaking domestic as all hell and I loved this scene in particular so I’m sharing it with you.

Taglist (just message me if you want to be put on or taken off of it): @hannahs-creations @killer-badass @theshadowsofthenight @slythekiel @lucas-writes @ohlooksheswriting @waywordwriter @hufflepuffbanana @writerproject  

Natelie

I knocked on the door, quietly at first, before eventually knocking even harder to be heard over the records playing in the house. After a few moments, the music scratched to a halt. The sound of someone rumbling to the door replaced the slow, soft jazz.

“If you’re here to finally tell us we’re allowed to step foot off this damn property it’s about time you-”

The door swung open to reveal a very surprised, very undressed Garrett Branwenn. He scrambled to close his robe over the black boxers he was wearing and leaned across the door so that I couldn’t see past him.

“Who is it?” Someone shouted from inside the house.

“Probably the girl scouts again,” He shouted over his shoulder.

He leaned in closer, “Listen to me little girl if you are with the girl scouts then run as fast as you can, I won’t be responsible for what happens to you if he finds out you got thin mints in that backpack.”

“My name is Natelie Gonzalez,” I replied quickly, “And I am the keeper of the Raven Talisman.”

His face and posture changed immediately. The door swung open and he motioned for me to enter. He backed out of the way slowly, giving me a strange look. I entered the house, glancing half-heartedly at the pictures hanging from the walls. Garrett’s reaction had scared me.

“Who is it, Garrett?”

Another man swung around the corner, this one was more put together than the other. His shirt was still slightly unbuttoned. His eyes met mine and his smile seemed to fade at something he saw in there.

“Jack,” Garrett replied slowly, “This is Natelie Gonzalez, the new keeper of the Raven Talisman.”

Jack’s smile faded completely.

“Oh shit,” he whispered.

[iamdage]

PHẦN 28. CÂU CHUYỆN CỦA REGINALD 2

PHẦN 28. CÂU CHUYỆN CỦA REGINALD 2

– Đi theo em, chúng ta sẽ đến gặp bà Griffin.

Cảnh sát trưởng hỏi lại bằng giọng của người ngái ngủ, mắt ông hơi nheo.

– Ngay bây giờ?

– Ngay bây giờ, nếu anh là một con ma cà rồng sung sức.

– Tôi chỉ muốn lên phòng ngủ thôi. – Joseph che miệng ngáp dài, tra chìa vào ổ. Ông định sẽ khóa cửa, lên thẳng nhà trên. Cần gì quan tâm tới ả ma cà rồng, Senna sẽ lại thoắt ẩn thoắt hiện như những lần trước…

[scarboroughskellington]

@bcrnevil

Scarborough often spent her lunch hour sitting beneath a tree in Auradon Prep’s courtyard, reading or breaking up pieces of what should be her own lunch for Branwenn to eat instead. After all, as a rag doll she didn’t actually need to eat, but her familiar did. Though Scarborough was able to eat if she wanted. Perhaps that was part of the reason none of the other students seemed to want to talk to her--even the Villains’ kids seemed somewhat put off by her.

Her “scars” could also have been a part of it, too. Ice blue skin and stitches everywhere weren’t exactly a common thing in the human world, so she had a constant glamour she kept up while she was at school. It changed her skin to an almost-black shade of brown and made her stitching look like scars and tattoos. Most of them were covered by her clothing, but Scarborough knew the ones on her arms showed through the ribbons, and the stitches over her left eye were hard to cover even with an eyepatch. Not that she ever would cover them.

She pushed a crimson-streaked lock of jet black hair back from her face and turned her attention to her book while Branwenn pecked at the pieces of sandwich Scarborough had broken up for her.