#oc: savil
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sweetmage ยท 2 years ago
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I already posted this Tamlen art yesterday, but I'm posting again because there is now a fic (fluff to angst to happy ending) to accompany it ๐Ÿ˜Š
AO3 link, or scroll/click "expand" to read๐Ÿ’—
There is also more context for this AU below the cut but it spoils some of the fic. Enjoy!
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Springing forward, twirling around roots, dipping below the sway of stray branchesโ€”Savil's feet found the well-worn path and his eyes found Tamlen.
Fresh-faced and eager, Tamlen,too, tumbled over loose stones, so lost in the blissful energy of freedom and youth that he never once turned to see if his hunting partner followed.
"Hey!" Savil called above the bubbling stream, arms outstretched until they caught Tamlen's shoulder. He was puffing, breathless, but the giggles came quick when Tamlen turned to greet him.ย 
"About time you showed up."
"When you run like that, you'll scare all the rabbits. This is why you need me around," Savil had chided.
And he smiled, bright and big and lively in a way that said 'Yes, I do. Of course I do.'
And Savil smiled back, just as fond, just as wide. "Don't forget me next time, alright?"
And Tamlen didn't.ย 
They found themselves, as they often did, at each others' side. This time on the edge of the precipice overlooking the vast woods, sheltered beneath a canopy of late-evening stars.ย 
Bright-eyed, newly vallaslin-ed, just eighteen eachโ€”they'd lost themselves to song and merry chatter and pebbles skipped over a slow-moving stream.ย 
They kept an arbitrary score: ten points for style, three for distance this time, five for it last time. Tamlen triumphed, in the end, because Savil made it so. Because the "prize" was burning an eager hole through his pocket.ย 
"Enough gloating. Hold out your hand," he instructed, already holding out his own, fist balled and palm down.ย 
Their trust was clear and unspoken. Tamlen's hand was outstretched, risking insects and trickery, before he even bothered to ask "why?"ย 
The tips of their fingers brushed oh so gently as he'd filled his upturned palm.
Savil watched his hand unfurl, the pendant within catching moonlight and glinting as brilliantly as Tamlen's grin.
"For me?"
"I shouldn't reward all the trouble that you cause, but when you're away serving punishments, you must get lonely. I thought it would be nice if you had a way to think of me. To not feel so alone."
He turned it over in his hand, closed his fingers around it like a hug, and he smiled again, dashing and dazzling like he always did. "Ma serannas. I'll hold on to it forever. I'll cherish it."
"I hope you'll remember me the next time things get tough."
And he did, but just barely.
His thoughts and memories had peeled away like putrid flesh and tattered cloth, but the pendant still hung. The blood and rot had dampened its luster to something dull, something lifeless.ย 
But it still hung.
And so did Tamlen, as limp and still and cold in Savil's arms as the gem round his neck.ย 
"I'll fix this, Tam," Savilโ€”weathered and worn and brokenโ€”swore aloud to the darkness, voice raw with anguish.ย 
The moon fell heavy and mocking, its faint glow seeping past clouds and giving light to Tamlen's slack mouth, and festering skin, and maddened eyes that projected the same horror they must have witnessed.
The flames of camp were a distant flicker behind them, duty and promise deserted. Savil couldn't bury what still breathed, what could yet live, and he couldn't stand by those who would stop him.
ย 
"You must stay with me, lethallin. You promised. You promised we'd be together for the rest of our days. I need more days with you, Tam. Don't forgetโ€ฆ You promised me!"
But Tamlen forgot.
The one who'd promised otherwise had dissolved and reabsorbed into something else. Whatever chewed away at his mind had imprisoned him in a way even Merrill's weeping wounds couldn't touch.ย 
Contorted in unfathomable pain, screaming like a tormented beast, the "cured" Tamlen emerged from his cage a writhing husk.
Thrashing and spitting, he flailed against what wasn't there as though desperate to tear the very air itself apart.ย 
Seven years of trial and hope... for this.ย 
Seven long, miserable years without Tamlen.ย 
Seven wasted years.
Despair clawed its way to the surface and dragged Savil under. All he could do was cradle Tamlen, endure his wretched howls and the shredding of dirty, untrimmed nails against his skin. And beg. He could only beg.
"Pleaseโ€ฆ pleaseโ€ฆ." He pressed the sincerity and desperation of each word into Tamlens hairless scalp with a kiss, hoping against hope that the words might somehow penetrate some tiny fragment of his trapped soul and set him free. "Please. Please come back, please remember me..."
And through a miracle or sheer luck, on one distant day Tamlen remembered.ย 
An overnight rainstorm swept through the meadow, but now the midday sunlight danced over the lingering droplets, making the rolling fields sparkle anew.ย 
The grass parted for Savil's feet as he stumbled headlong across the uneven ground, his untethered heart soaring free.
And there was Tamlen at the crest of the hill, waiting for him.
As he reached his side, Tamlen flung himself at him so emphatically that it almost sent them sailing. With his face tucked into the crook of Savil's neck, Tamlen teased fondly. "About time you showed up."
"Wouldn't miss it," replied Savil, all smiles and warmth, his hands reaching tentatively for those familiar shoulders. "More importantly, I brought food."
Tamlen pulled back, radiant and shining, his sporadic tufts of golden hair gently tossed by the wind. His scarred features were alight, his smile safe and genuine, "What would I do without you?"
"Starve, most likely," Savil deadpanned. "That's why you need someone like me around.ย 
"I do," he admitted, toying with the pendant that hung by a new cord. "I really do."
He fished a neatly wrapped parcel from pocket and placed it into Tamlen's hands. "Made your favorite."
"Ma serannas, vhenan. I won't forget this," Tamlen swore reverently. And then, more softly, "And I won't forget you again. Promise."
They settled in the grass side by side, lost to song and merry chatter, content to simply be where they were.
For some additional context, this is based on my AU where Tamlen is rescued by Savil (my Warden, his friend and love interest) during the attack on the camp. After telling the others hes going to go bury his friends, Savil instead deserts the Wardens and flees with a still living Tamlen in favor of trying cure him.
Tamlen remains as a ghoul (caged for their mutual safety, but well looked after) for the next seven years.
The cure finally comes in the form of Merrill, once again tempted to blood magic after the discovery that her two closest friends, the ones she'd presumed dead for years, still live.
As with all matters of blood magic, there are consequences. However, the steepest drawbacks come as a result of the 7 year ordeal itself. The taint was removed, the singing silenced, but Tamlen remained incoherent, void of memories, yet so painfully aware now of his surroundings, of the pain.
His recovery is long and arduous, memories and faculties slowly returning. But, with the love and support of his clan, with Savil and Merill at his side, he does recover and at last he smile, and taste joy, and be thankful to wake up every morning, living and loved.
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absintheancandle ยท 6 months ago
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i have redesigned my Dolls who do Crimes aka "tailor gets dragged around by a rich man (who was his former client) to do False Necromancy and hates it the entire time. and also atlas is there."
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bewaretheidiotsofmarch ยท 4 months ago
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Work in progress
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Currently doing more Marion Saville(my oc) x Lyutsifer Safin art.
Power couple- except love isn't really what they have. I don't even think they'd use the term "friend" about each other. They're like each others shadows. And the power structure is not equal and Saville likes it like that. It doesn't offend or threaten him. It's just the way it should be. If Safin wants to be a god, Saville will be his first devotee.
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atiredsalmon ยท 15 days ago
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Verdant Ruby
The Inquisition's Artificer has to be busy after Tresspasser, right? Connecting the timeline for my final OC, Savill, to Veilguard alongside my headcanon that Merrill established the Veiljumpers
___
โ€œThis is what we came here for?โ€ Savill wheezed between pants. The years spent on the run from Venatori and slighted Magisters had done little to build his stamina, and he lifted one hand to show the small artifact while the other clutched at his knee as he doubled over to recover his breath. A cool wash of a rejuvenation spell cleaned the heat from his skin and he straightened, scratching under his eyepatch in thanks. โ€œIโ€™m certain my grandmother had one of these.โ€
The elven woman that leaned over to peer at the device with round eyes had tattoos scrawled across the entirety of her face. It marked her as Dalish, but she was unlike another Dalish elf he knew and Savill had little qualms about voicing his disappointment at their findings. The search had taken them a week for what ended up being, as knew it, a puzzle box.
โ€œThen she must have stolen it.โ€
โ€œOh, I have no doubt.โ€ He brought the artifact back to him and lifted the eyepatch up. Lyrium blue flowed around the pupil, his eye tracing the lines of magic that flowed around the toy. โ€œYou said this was filled with treasure, and you arenโ€™t entire wrong.โ€ One such box had been given to him as a child to play with - and to test his magic. Sweetโ€™s ability to show him the precise twist and turns made him feel like he was cheating now, and he popped it open with a few, quick, twists and handed it over. โ€œHere you are, Merrill. A treasure box. Although it seems whatever it held is gone, if it had anything to begin with.โ€
Merrill passed the artifact between her hands, a frown on her face. โ€œMaybe it was inside that was important.โ€
โ€œFor who,โ€ he chuckled as he flipped the eyepatch back down. โ€œAn elderly โ€˜vint obsessed with finishing a collection?โ€
โ€œFenโ€™harel, of course.โ€
The way she answered made Savillโ€™s stomach twist and even the warmth of Sweetโ€™s power under his skin wavered for a moment. He hadnโ€™t been on the fighting roster when the Inquisitor claus see after Solas but he had been in the front lines for support. No one on the return trip had looked comfortable or settled with the decisions that had been made. The Inquisitor hadnโ€™t looked anything at all - unconscious and bleeding and thrown into his arms to sort out the magic still pulsing under what was left of Fahleonโ€™s arm while Varric and Dorian discussed next steps.
In hindsight, Savill could understand why the decision had been passed off to him. Over the course of the years heโ€™d had answers and advice for nearly all the Inquisitionโ€™s questions and mysteries about Corypheus and the Fade, but heโ€™d been resentful at the time. Fahleon was dying in his arms, the Inquisition was falling apart, and a plot to unravel the world - as much as he understood it - was unfolding and he was toโ€ฆstudy a mirror? And while the Inquaition and the others tracked Solas and Fahleon disappeared after recovery, Savill had been left alone with it.
The Eluvian. Learning it was an ancient artifact from far before his time had made the hurt a little less. Receiving the letter from Varric that someone was coming to help had made it even better. And when the elven woman had come out of the mirror several weeks later, loneliness and desperation had turned into motivation and interest.
Nearly a decade had passed since then and Savill had learned more of the Fade from Merrill in that time than he had in his life, he was sure. He had learned to trace patterns in magic and read history in the Fade with her and deepened his bond with Sweets and their magic, but not once had they learned of Solasโ€™ whereabouts. They had found their way into the Eluvians and mapped half of Arlathan and amassed a pile of artifacts both ancient and strange and useless and mundane but had found not one clue of the Dreadwolfโ€™s plan.
It made him sigh, long and loud, as he rubbed at a shoulder. โ€œDo you really believe Solas is still out there?โ€
Merrill glanced up with a smile. โ€œOf course. Why else havenโ€™t we heard anything from Varric after he asked for our help?โ€
Savill snorted. There were several reasons for the dwarfโ€™s silence and none of them were good. Though, finding Solas wouldnโ€™t entirely be a good thing either, but he had a difficult time ruining her mood. Blood mages. Always so manipulative.
โ€œI believe he asked for your help,โ€ he said, instead. โ€œI just happened to be around first.โ€
Merrillโ€™s attention had turned back to the box but she was still listening even as her downturned gaze turned intense. โ€œThen why are you still here?โ€
โ€œBecause Sweets likes you,โ€ he said with an easy shrug.
The elf laughed. โ€œI like her, too. Do you think she would do me a favor?โ€ Savillโ€™s hand was already outstretched before she could finish asking. He understood what that look meant, and Merrill dropped the artifact back into his palms. โ€œThere was definitely something inside.โ€ She pointed to an impression on the fabric within the box. He was impressed she caught it. โ€œSomething someone wanted.โ€
He chuckled, catching her meaning, and shook out his hands. โ€œSomething someone desired, is it? With this, I can certainly help.โ€ He traced the edge of the impression, his other eye, unobstructed by a patch and glinting gold, narrowed in concentration. His demonโ€™s hold on Desire had waned with their merging and changing, but Merrillโ€™s teachings on tracing magical patterns filled in the gap. Possession helped, too, as Sweets reached from him and towards the Veil where history was kept amongst the spirits.
He hummed as memories, whispered in soft and gentle voices, flooded behind his eyes. โ€œIt came from Tevinter and was tossed here some time ago. Empty. She doesnโ€™t know much else.โ€ But Savill understood Merrillโ€™s look, too. โ€œI guess I should send some letters to let them know weโ€™re coming.โ€ Merrill clapped her hands together, and Savill thought it truly was difficult to be pessimistic around her. True, they had run into another dead end but they had found scraps of another lead nonetheless. Even if it meant returning to Tevinter. โ€œI suppose weโ€™ll use the Eluvian to Arlanthan Forest? We know where that one is.โ€
โ€œIt makes the most sense,โ€ she said, and clapped her hands again. โ€œOh, another adventure! We should give ourselves a group name!โ€
โ€œIโ€™m not sure two of us - three,โ€ he amended, quickly at the sudden twitch of his brow, โ€œconstitutes a group.โ€
Merrillโ€™s eyes brightened. โ€œWe could find others! More people who want to research the Fade. We could have more help looking for Fenโ€™harel!โ€ It wasnโ€™t a terrible idea - it was a good one, in fact, but Savill had been hoping for a quiet retreat in the forest outside of Tevinter to gather his courage after this adventureโ€™s conclusion. Not more work.
Merrill had the energy for all of them.
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kanerallels ยท 1 year ago
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Just so y'all know, you can feel free to use this post too!
Christmas Themed Drabble Game
What's up, I have a deep need to write Christmas fan fic. Send me a pairing (platonic or romantic) and either A) a Christmas song or B) a common Christmas time trope, and I'll write you a drabble!!
I'll put the pairings/fandoms I'd write for in the tags!
(disclaimer: as people have very strong feelings about Christmas songs (don't argue you know it's true) I reserve the right to veto a few songs. Same goes with pairings. I'm also not gonna write anything NFSW)
Questions? DM me or send me an ask. Happy holidays!!
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thealogie ยท 8 months ago
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Well if Broadchurch was so populist why did you give a Bafta to OC for that then? Also, Des was supposedly too brutal, but "Steve Cooganโ€™s recognition for his Jimmy Savile inย The Reckoningย feels a rare case of absolute technical mastery (the voice, look and inner moral void perfectly captured) overcoming concerns about content." Des wasn't a sufficiently masterful performance then, to overcome that. I see, Brits, even when you praise ma boy you shade him. Cursed island.
I had the same reaction but itโ€™s literally that writer doing what we were attempting to do here for the past few months and offer some logical reason for past snubs. And obviously she canโ€™t go โ€œthe British are just insaneโ€ so she had to make something up before her deadline
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altotos ยท 2 months ago
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Centipedessโ€ฆ
His name is Savile ^^ hessss totally not my favorite ocโ€ฆ
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theink-stainedfolk ยท 3 days ago
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Happy STS Zehra!! ๐Ÿ’›โœจ
Do your OCs celebrate Thanksgiving? If so, what dish are they making and bringing? ๐Ÿ‘€๐Ÿ’ซ
Thank you for your questionโ™กโ™กโ™ก
Yes, Shion and Raoul, from Eclipsed Hearts, would definitely celebrate Thanksgiving, albeit with their own unique twist on the holiday! They might attend a gathering with fellow vampires and humans, blending traditions to create a fun and memorable experience.
They'd bring Pumpkin Spice Blood Pudding (lol)
Shion and Raoul decide to make a pumpkin spice blood pudding, a creative dish that pays homage to traditional pumpkin pie while embracing their vampire nature. This sweet and spicy pudding is made with real pumpkin puree, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a dash of vanilla, blended with a rich, dark blood base (perhaps a mix of animal blood for flavor, keeping it ethical and within vampire norms).
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Saville and Arce from Under the Knife
Saville is not the traditional family type, and Thanksgiving is mostly a nuisance for him. However, he acknowledges the day as an opportunity to indulge in some culinary creativity. Given his snarky personality and a penchant for the unexpected, he decides to bring an unconventional dish: pumpkin ravioli with sage brown butter sauce. Heโ€™ll make it from scratch, enjoying the process of crafting the delicate pasta and filling. While he might roll his eyes at the idea of "family time," he finds solace in the kitchen, where he can exert control and express his culinary skills.
Arce, on the other hand, has a more complex relationship with Thanksgiving. He values the connections with. To celebrate, he brings a smoked turkey breast that he prepared himself, having learned to appreciate the art of cooking as a means of bonding with others. He might also whip up mashed potatoes with garlic and chives, showcasing a softer side as he attempts to impress Saville and make the gathering a little less tense. He enjoys the opportunity to create something delicious for others, perhaps trying to atone for some of his darker past.
---
Aster, Piper and Alethea from Shades of Erudition
Asterion 'Aster' Carter
Dish: Herb-Crusted Roasted Turkey
He would source high-quality ingredients and pay close attention to the details, marinating the turkey with a blend of herbs and spices he meticulously selects. The presentation would be elegant, showcasing his culinary skills and adding a touch of sophistication to the Thanksgiving table.
Piper Redmond
Dish: Sweet Potato Casserole with Marshmallow Topping
He would be the one to add the marshmallow topping, using it as an opportunity to lighten the mood and make jokes about โ€œthe best part of Thanksgiving.โ€ His dish would be a bit messy but filled with love and humor, reflecting his vibrant personality. Piper might even sneak in some unique spices or nuts to surprise everyone, showcasing his creativity and flair for fun in the kitchen.
Alethea Pierce
Dish: Cranberry Sauce with a Twist
Why: Alethea, with her sharp intellect and creativity, would prepare a homemade cranberry sauce that stands out from the usual recipe. She might infuse her sauce with orange zest, ginger, and a hint of cinnamon, giving it a unique flavor profile that surprises everyone at the table. This dish would reflect her personalityโ€”classic yet innovative, with a touch of warmth and sophistication.
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Rosaire and Leslie from Crimson Threads
Rosaire, with his penchant for charm and sophistication, takes on the role of the host and prepares a luxurious roasted turkey, seasoned to perfection and garnished with fresh herbs. He believes that a perfectly cooked turkey is a staple of any Thanksgiving gathering, and he uses this occasion to show off his culinary skills.
Leisle, on the other hand, takes a more playful approach. He decides to make a dessertโ€”pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. He knows Rosaire loves to impress, and he wants to bring something fun and casual to balance out the elegance of the turkey. Leisle also throws in a few surprises, like adding unexpected spices and a hint of chocolate to the cupcakes, making them a delightful twist on the traditional dish.
---
I hope you enjoyed this. Yes it is not systematic, i tend to get confused with the aesthetics.
Thank you once again โ™กโ™กโ™ก
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princepandemonium ยท 10 months ago
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"who cares what they're wearing
on main street, or saville row,
it's what you wear from ear to ear
and not from head to toe"
Starting off 2024 with drawing a comic of one of my clown OCs Sour Party. I wanted to try something new and have never drawn and colored a comic before.
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thesorceressandthemagicx ยท 29 days ago
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โ› ๐ฟรก๐‘”๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘š๐‘Ž๐‘  ๐‘‘๐‘’ ๐‘๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž, ๐‘™รก๐‘”๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘š๐‘Ž๐‘  ๐‘‘๐‘’ ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ๐‘๐‘’๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘Ž, ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘ง๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘  ๐‘‘๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘ง๐‘Ž๐‘‘๐‘œ๐‘ . ๐‘€๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘ฃ๐‘–๐‘™๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘  ๐‘‘๐‘’ ๐‘™๐‘Ž ๐‘ฃ๐‘–๐‘‘๐‘Ž, ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘“๐‘–๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘›๐‘œ๐‘  ๐‘’ ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘ฃ๐‘–๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘›๐‘œ๐‘ , ๐‘๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘š๐‘Ž๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘ , ๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘–๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘  ๐‘’๐‘› ๐‘‘๐‘œ๐‘  ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘ง๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘  ๐‘ข๐‘›๐‘–๐‘‘๐‘œ๐‘  ๐‘’๐‘› ๐‘ข๐‘›๐‘œ ๐‘ ๐‘œ๐‘™๐‘œ.โœ
เญจ ๐•™๐•–๐•ช! ๐š๐š’๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ... ๐–จ ๐—‰๐—‹๐–พ๐—Œ๐–พ๐—‡๐— ๐—†๐—’ ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ณ๐—ผ ๐’ƒ๐’๐’™! เญง
โ—œ โ€˜๏พŸ๐’‡๐–บ๐—‡๐–ฝ๐—ˆ๐—† โญˆ Life in London (Original history)
โ€˜๏พŸ ๐’•๐—’๐—‰๐–พ โญˆ canon/oc/ ๐—ฐ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ผ. โ—ž
โฐ โฑ โ‡‹ ห› โฐโฐยน ๐“๐‡๐„๏น’๐๐€๐’๏น’๐ˆ๐‚๐’ หž ห
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ป๐–บ๐—บ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ Juliette Meyer โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ป๐—‚๐—ฐ๐—„๐—ป๐–บ๐—บ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ Jules โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฎ๐—€๐—ฒ โ—ž โŠถ 24 aรฑos โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฏ๐—‚๐—ฟ๐—๐—ต๐–ฝ๐—ฎ๐—’ โ—ž โŠถ 20 de abril โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ป๐–บ๐˜๐—‚๐—ผ๐—‡๐—ฎ๐—…๐—ถ๐—๐˜† โ—ž โŠถ Inglesa โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฒ๐—๐—ต๐—‡๐—ถ๐–ผ๐—ถ๐—๐˜† โ—ž โŠถ nativa โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฟ๐–บ๐—ฐ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ Negocios internacionales โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐˜€๐–พ๐˜…๐—Ž๐—ฎ๐—… ๐—ผ๐—‹๐—ถ๐–พ๐—ป๐—๐—ฎ๐—๐—ถ๐—ˆ๐—ป โ—ž โŠถ Heterosexual โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐˜€๐—๐—ฎ๐—๐˜‚๐—Œ โ—ž โŠถ Clase social Alta
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฝ๐—…๐—ฎ๐–ผ๐—ฒ ๐—ˆ๐—ณ ๐—‹๐—ฒ๐—Œ๐—ถ๐–ฝ๐—ฒ๐—‡๐—ฐ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ Londres, Inglaterra. โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฏ๐—‚๐—ฟ๐—๐—ต๐—‰๐—น๐–บ๐—ฐ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ Residencia de la familia Meyer, ubicada en Savile Row street โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐˜€๐—‰๐—ฒ๐–ผ๐—ถ๐–พ๐˜€ โ—ž โŠถ Humana โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ท๐—ˆ๐—ฏ โ—ž โŠถ CEO de la Fundaciรณn Meyer โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ผ๐–ผ๐—ฐ๐—Ž๐—ฝ๐–บ๐˜๐—‚๐—ผ๐—‡ โ—ž โŠถ CEO โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐˜€๐–ผ๐—ต๐—ˆ๐—ผ๐—… โ—ž โŠถ Estudio en casa โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐˜‚๐—‡๐—ถ๐—๐—ฒ๐—‹๐˜€๐—‚๐˜๐—’ โ—ž โŠถ Oxford
โฐ โฑ โ‡‹ ห› โฐโฐยฒ (๐’….) ๐๐‡๐˜๏น’๐’๐ˆ๏น’๐‚๐€๐‹ หž ห
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฒ๐—’๐—ฒ ๐–ผ๐—ผ๐—…๐—ผ๐—‹ โ—ž โŠถ miel verdoso โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ต๐–บ๐—ถ๐—‹ ๐–ผ๐—ผ๐—…๐—ผ๐—‹ โ—ž โŠถ rubio โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ต๐–บ๐—ถ๐—‹ ๐˜๐—’๐—ฝ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ long โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฏ๐—ˆ๐—ฑ๐—’ ๐˜๐—’๐—ฝ๐–พ โ—ž โŠถ delgada
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฝ๐—‚๐—ฒ๐—‹๐—ฐ๐—‚๐—ป๐—€๐˜€ โ—ž โŠถ orejas
โฐ โฑ โ‡‹ ห› โฐโฐยณ (๐’….) ๐๐’๐˜๏น’๐‚๐‡๐Ž๏น’๐‹๐Ž๐†๏น’๐ˆ๐‚๐€๐‹ หž ห
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฝ๐—ˆ๐˜€๐—‚๐˜๐—‚๐˜ƒ๐–พ ๐˜๐—‹๐—ฎ๐—‚๐˜๐—Œ โ—ž โŠถ โ›โบโคฟ Es buena escuchando โ›โบโคฟ Alegre โ›โบโคฟ Espontรกnea โ›โบโคฟ Extrovertida โ›โบโคฟ Activo โ›โบโคฟ Sociable โ›โบโคฟ Productiva โ›โบโคฟ Persistente โ›โบโคฟ Constante โ›โบโคฟ Leal
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ป๐–พ๐—ด๐–บ๐˜๐—‚๐˜ƒ๐–พ ๐˜๐—‹๐—ฎ๐—‚๐˜๐—Œ โ—ž โŠถ โ›โปโคฟ Vanidosa. โ›โปโคฟ Tendenciosa. โ›โปโคฟ Prejuiciosa. โ›โปโคฟ Impaciente. โ›โปโคฟ Inquieta. โ›โปโคฟ Explosiva. โ›โปโคฟ Obstinada.
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—น๐—‚๐—ธ๐–พ๐˜€ โ—ž โŠถ โคฝ โ€น Le encanta el helado de fresa. โคฝ โ€น Seguir con la รบltima moda en prendas y accesorios. โคฝ โ€น Su animal favorito es el koala. โคฝ โ€น Su color favorito es el beige y colores parecidos. โคฝ โ€น Ama las joyas. โคฝ โ€น Su mรบsica favorita es la clรกsica y el jazz. โคฝ โ€น Disfruta tocar el violรญn.
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฑ๐—‚๐˜€๐—…๐—ถ๐—„๐—ฒ๐—Œ โ—ž โŠถ โคผ โ€บ Odia que su cabello luzca desarreglado. โคผ โ€บ No le gusta que sus bebidas sean excesivamente espesas. โคผ โ€บ El humo del tabaco. โคผ โ€บ Los olores baratos. โคผ โ€บ Oler a comida y a grasa. โคผ โ€บ No le gusta comer la fruta entera, debe ser picada y sin huesos. โคผ โ€บ Le molestan los necios. โคผ โ€บ La mรบsica urbana y sus derivados.
โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ต๐—ˆ๐—ฏ๐–ป๐—ถ๐–พ๐˜€ โ—ž โŠถ Tocar el violรญn; escuchar mรบsica clรกsica, el jazz, y sus derivados; ir de compras; viajar con su mejor amiga. โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ฝ๐–บ๐˜€๐—Œ๐—ถ๐—ˆ๐—ป๐—Œ โ—ž โŠถ La beneficencia se lo toma en serio; leer novelas rosas; y ver pelรญculas. โ‹† โˆฟ โ—œ ๐—ณ๐–พ๐—ฎ๐—‹๐˜€ โ—ž โŠถ los animales que se arrastran.
โฐ โฑ โ‡‹ ห› โฐโฐโด ๐๐€๐‚๐Š๏น’๐†๐‘๐Ž๐”๐๐ƒ๏น’๐‡๐ˆ๐’๐“๏น’๐Ž๐‘๐˜ หž ห
โŠฑ ๐–ณ๐—๐—‚๐—Œ ๐—‚๐—Œ ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐’”๐’•๐’๐’“๐’š ๐–ฟ๐—‹๐—ˆ๐—† ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐›๐ž๐ ๐ข๐ง๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐—ˆ๐–ฟ ๐’• ๐’Š ๐’Ž ๐’† ๐’” ๐—๐–พ ๐—‰๐—‹๐–พ๐—Œ๐–พ๐—‡๐—... ๐—๐—จ๐—Ÿ๐—œ๐—˜๐—ง๐—ง๐—˜ ๐— ๐—˜๐—ฌ๐—˜๐—ฅ โŠฐ
โช เฎœ โซ ห’ สป ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ โ€š Juliette Meyer naciรณ en la cuna de una familia burguesa, por lo que nunca tuvo una necesidad econรณmica. Su familia convivรญa constantemente con la familia Castle. Los Meyer llevan aรฑos diseรฑando ropa y son dueรฑos de varios centros comerciales. Richard, el padre de la familia, es heredero de un emporio de maquiladoras. Su familia es altamente prejuiciosa. El hijo mayor, Steven, forma parte del Parlamento. La hija menor, tiene aspiraciones de ser parte del Royal ballet, por lo que le dedica en alma y cuerpo cada minuto de su vida.
โช เฎœ โซ ห’ สป ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ โ€š Juliette era muy parecida a su madre, Irlanda. El mejor ejemplo que ella pudo obtener era de una mujer de sociedad cuyos รบnicos fines era mantenerse siempre dentro del mismo cรญrculo sin ser parte de las habladurรญas. Juliette era tan superficial y frรญvola como su madre donde su vanidad era lo mรกs importante para ella. El problema apareciรณ cuando la hija de en medio se fijรณ en un chico pobre. Su mejor amiga tratรณ de que ella entendiera que las cosas irรญan peor si no desistรญa esa locura. John Brown fue su primer amor, aquรฉl que nunca olvidarรญa, y serรญa fiel a su recuerdo. John trabajaba en una fรกbrica y tenรญa tantos empleos que el chico apenas podรญa sostenerse de pie, pues todo el tiempo se encontraba cansado. El moreno cargaba con el peso de la educaciรณn, el cuidado y la alimentaciรณn de su hermana y de toda la familia Brown. Fue รฉl quien logrรณ que Juliette cambiara su manera tan egoรญsta de ver la vida, pues ella fue quien lo vio primero y se asegurรณ de investigarlo para saber cรณmo acercarse a รฉl. Morgan odiaba ver a su mejor amiga distraรญda y abandonada por un โ€œmuerto de hambreโ€, pero no entendรญa que el amor que Juliette sentรญa por รฉl, era verdadero. Lo conociรณ mientras caminaba en direcciรณn a uno de sus trabajos, por lo que no pudo prestarle mucho tiempo a la rubia. Creyรณ que nunca la volverรญa a ver, pero desde ese momento, supo que ella era el amor de su vida.
Durante su relaciรณn, ella cambiรณ tanto que dejรณ de ser frรญa, egoรญsta y superficial; dejando a Morgan con la duda respecto a su posiciรณn en la vida de Juliette. Morgan sintiรณ envidia de que su mejor amiga pasara su tiempo con รฉl y no con la morena. Asรญ que, sabiendo que la rubia no se enterarรญa, le comentรณ a los seรฑores Meyer de รฉsta quienes le pudieron un รบltimatum para que terminara esa loca relaciรณn. No consiguiรณ sus planes pues Juliette terminรณ renunciando a su herencia por รฉl y se fue a vivir con John. El amor de los dos era tan fuerte que no le importรณ abandonar a su familia por el chico que serรญa toda su familia y su cuรฑada. Sus padres creyeron que en cualquier momento, regresarรญa pues no sabรญa vivir sin dinero ni sus relaciones. Fueron tiempos difรญciles para ella, pero aprendiรณ a trabajar, a realizar las actividades de su hogar como la limpieza. En algunos momentos flaqueรณ pero no resistiรณ por cuestiones econรณmicas. Fueron invitados los Brown y Juliette a la casa de los Meyer, la reuniรณn fue un fracaso. Juliette tenรญa la esperanza de que sus padres por fin los apoyarรญan, pero se llevรณ una sorpresa cuando en la cena tambiรฉn se encontraban los Castle. Morgan sostenรญa un Martini en su mano y Scott un vaso pequeรฑo con Whiskey. La verdadera intenciรณn de su madre era volver a juntar a Juliette con Scott, pues รฉste habรญa sido su novio cinco aรฑos antes que John. Saliรณ furiosa de la habitaciรณn y tras ella, se fueron John y Mia.
โช เฎœ โซ ห’ สป ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘ โ€š Despuรฉs del regreso de Scott, se dio cuenta que la chica estaba mรกs hermosa que antes, por lo que, independientemente de sus padres, se propuso que ella regresarรญa a sus brazos. Asรญ que se encargรณ de buscarla y encontrarse con ella en cada rincรณn. Ten๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝa que hacer que rompieran para que regresara a su cรญrculo social y tuvieran mรกs cosas en comรบn. Mientras tanto, Juls trabajaba en una cafeterรญa, pues sus padres se aseguraron de que no la contrataran como profesora en ningรบn colegio y con ayuda de los Castle, tampoco un colegio del gobierno la contratarรญa, no hasta que regresara a casa. Sus valores poco a poco cambiaron y entendiรณ que su vida era muy fรกcil, mรกs que la mayorรญa de las personas, por lo que dejรณ de ser frรญvola y mantuvo cuidado en su imagen lo mejor que pudo, pero ahora su mayor preocupaciรณn era sobrevivir. En cualquiera de sus encuentros con Scott, los que mรกs odiaba eran cuando รฉste se presentaba en la cafeterรญa y se quedaba sentado frente a ella con aquella sonrisa de niรฑo encaprichado. Juliette no lo podรญa tratar mal, pero esperaba pacientemente cuando acababa su turno y salรญa del lugar, pues una vez fuera, Scott la seguรญa. Lo que facilitaba que explotara frente a รฉl. Muchas de esas veces, John se enfurecรญa pues lo veรญa dentro de la cafeterรญa, o bien, riรฉndose de Juliette, entendรญa que รฉl estaba ahรญ para llevarse al amor de su vida. John no sรณlo estaba celoso, brotaban todas sus inseguridades, ya que Scott podรญa darle mejores cosas y sabรญa que era el chico perfecto para sus suegros.
Despuรฉs de muchos intentos, Scott no lo conseguรญa, ni siquiera porque tenรญa la ayuda de Morgan; pero fue paciente y decidiรณ darle espacio a ella. Juliette y John terminaron porque el chico cometiรณ la falta mรกs grande para la rubia: le mintiรณ repetidamente y de muchas maneras, que finalmente su confianza huyรณ. Decidiรณ ponerle fin a la relaciรณn y lo abandonรณ. Se fue directo a un departamento que rentรณ con lo poco que ganaba en la cafeterรญa, pues no regresarรญa a la casa de los Meyer porque no confiaba en ellos y ya no se sentรญa cรณmoda en el que habรญa sido su casa. Tras enterarse de esto, Scott la buscaba todos los dรญas y le enviaba regalos todas las maรฑanas antes de que la rubia se fuera a trabajar. Morgan la visitaba todo el tiempo y le rogaba que regresara a su casa, o bien, que se fuera a la casa de los Castle. El mayor de sus problemas era que Juliette Meyer ya querรญa ser independiente. Poco a poco las puertas de todos los trabajos โ€œdecentesโ€ les fueron abiertos; pues Scott se aseguraba de ello. Y logrรณ conquistarla nuevamente. Sentรญa que Scott le pertenecรญa y no se lo dejarรญa a nadie mรกs; como Scott seguรญa diciendo que Juliette siempre serรญa de รฉl, aun cuando no salieran juntos, aun cuando terminaran, siempre serรญa de รฉl. Desde que habรญa terminado con el joven Brown, ella ya no era la misma, se la pasaba arriesgando su vida por proteger a los huรฉrfanos de la calle, a los pobres que se encontraban a las afueras de la ciudad, se preocupaba por el medio ambiente.
โช เฎœ โซ ห’ สป ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’ โ€š Ahora creรญa en la igualdad de las personas, entendรญa que los puestos no debรญan heredarse y tambiรฉn tenรญa fe en que aquellos que trabajaban mรกs, debรญan llegar a tener los mejores lugares, pues ahora apreciaba las habilidades, conocimientos y perseverancia de las personas. Creyendo esto, y tras aรฑos de una reconciliaciรณn familiar, ayudรณ a su familia a que sus propiedades y la empresa familiar crecieran; por lo que mรกs adelante la nombraron CEO de la Fundaciรณn Meyer y seguรญa formando parte de la direcciรณn del resto de sus negocios familiares. Ayudaba a los niรฑos pobres de todo el mundo, eso querรญa, y sobre todo, buscaba el apadrinamiento de dichos niรฑos para que pudieran estudiar y aspirar a una vida en la que no sรณlo se preocuparan por sobrevivir. Juliette viajรณ a Hawai con un propรณsito enorme: ser socia de Scott y Morgan Castle. Planeaban montar uno de los mรกs grandes emporios hoteleros en la ciudad, y para ello, tenรญa que viajar antes que los otros socios, con el propรณsito de canalizar el lugar, liquidar los terrenos que estaban comprando para su proyecto. Tenรญa muchos pendientes y poca ayuda por parte de su prometido y de su mejor amiga, no sabรญa que en realidad la querรญan alejada de John, aunque no sabรญan que รฉste, por motivo de trabajo, se habรญa trasladado a Hawai. La rubia viajaba constantemente a Londres, Hawai y Nueva York.
โฐ โฑ โ‡‹ ห› โฐโฐโต ๐‘๐„๐‹๏น’๐€๐“๐ˆ๐Ž๐๏น’๐’๐‡๐ˆ๐๐’ หž ห
๐–ธ๐—ˆ๐—Ž ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—น๐—ฑ๐—ป'๐˜ ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€ ๐—๐—‚๐—๐— ๐’Ž๐’† ๐—’๐—ˆ๐—Ž ๐๐จ๐ง'๐ญ ๐—๐–บ๐—‡๐—‡๐–บ ๐’Ž๐’†๐’”๐’” ๐—๐—‚๐—๐— ๐™ข๐™š ๐–ผ๐—Ž๐—“' ๐—‚๐–ฟ ๐—’๐—ˆ๐—Ž ๐—†๐–พ๐—Œ๐—Œ ๐—๐—‚๐—๐— ๐—†๐–พ ๐—’๐—ˆ๐—Ž'๐—‹๐–พ ๐—†๐–พ๐—Œ๐—Œ๐—‚๐—‡๐—€ ๐—๐—‚๐—๐— ๐—†๐—’ โ•ญ๐…๏น’๐€๏น’๐Œ๏น’๐ˆ๏น’๐‹๏น’๐˜โ•ฏ
แƒ“โจŸ Richard Meyer โ•ฑ padre. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ Irlanda Meyer โ•ฑ madre. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ Steven Meyer โ•ฑ hermano mayor. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ Shophie Meyer โ•ฑ hermana menor. (Amanda Seyfried) ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
๐–ถ๐—๐–พ๐—‡ ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐˜€๐˜‚๐—ป ๐—Œ๐—๐—‚๐—‡๐–พ๐—Œ ๐™ฌ๐™š'๐™ก๐™ก ๐—Œ๐—๐—‚๐—‡๐–พ ๐ญ๐จ๐ ๐ž๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐—๐—ˆ๐—…๐–ฝ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐–จ'๐—…๐—… ๐–ป๐–พ ๐—๐–พ๐—‹๐–พ ๐’‡๐’๐’“๐’†๐’—๐’†๐’“ ๐—Œ๐–บ๐—‚๐–ฝ ๐–จ'๐—…๐—… ๐š๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐–ป๐–พ ๐—’๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐—‹ โ•ญ๐…๏น’๐‘๏น’๐ˆ๏น’๐„๏น’๐๏น’๐ƒ๏น’๐’โ•ฏ
แƒ“โจŸ Morgan Castle โ•ฑ mejor amiga (Leighton Meester) ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ John Brown โ•ฑ ex pareja โ€“ amigo (Sean Faris) ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
๐–ง๐–พ/๐–ฒ๐—๐–พ/๐–ณ๐—๐–พ๐—’ ๐—๐—๐—ˆ ๐™จ๐™š๐™š๐™ ๐™จ ๐ฏ๐ž๐ง๐ ๐ž๐š๐ง๐œ๐ž ๐—บ๐˜‚๐˜€๐˜ ๐–ฝ๐—‚๐—€ ๐—๐—๐—ˆ ๐’ˆ๐’“๐’‚๐’—๐’†๐’” ๐จ๐ง๐ž ๐–ฟ๐—ˆ๐—‹ ๐—๐—‚๐—†/๐—๐–พ๐—‹/๐—๐—๐–พ๐—†๐—Œ๐–พ๐—…๐—๐–พ๐—Œ ๐–บ๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐’๐’๐’† ๐–ฟ๐—ˆ๐—‹ ๐—๐—‚๐—Œ/๐—๐–พ๐—‹/๐—๐—๐–พ๐—‚๐—‹ โ•ญ๐„๏น’๐๏น’๐„๏น’๐Œ๏น’๐ˆ๏น’๐„๏น’๐’โ•ฏ
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
แƒ“โจŸ nombre โ•ฑ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ผฬ๐—ป. ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
๐–ข๐–บ๐—‡ ๐—œ ๐—€๐—ˆ ๐—๐—๐–พ๐—‹๐–พ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐’ˆ๐’? ๐–ผ๐–บ๐—‡ ๐ฐ๐ž ๐’‚๐’๐’˜๐’‚๐’š๐’” ๐–ป๐–พ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐–ผ๐—…๐—ˆ๐—Œ๐–พ? ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐–บ๐—‡๐–ฝ ๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ, ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐—†๐–พ ๐—ˆ๐—Ž๐— ๐–ผ๐—Ž๐—“' ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐–บ๐—‹๐–พ ๐’Ž๐’š โ•ญ๐‹๏น’๐Ž๏น’๐•๏น’๐„๏น’๐‘๏น’(๐’)โ•ฏ
แƒ“โจŸ Scott Castleโ•ฑ prometido. (Robert Pattinson) ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ โˆฏย ๏ผƒtag.
โฐ โฑ โ‡‹ ห› โฐโฐโถ ๐ƒ๐ˆ๐’๏น’๐‚๐‹๐€๐ˆ๏น’๐Œ๐„๐‘๐’ หž ห
๐ˆ. ฮตรฏะท Personaje basado en Life in London (una vieja comunidad de RP). Crรฉditos del personaje a ๐šƒ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š—๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ.๐š๐šก๐š ๐ˆ๐ˆ. ฮตรฏะท Me reservo el derecho de escoger las relaciones del personaje y tambiรฉn brindo la oportunidad de dar a los pjs pertenecientes de dicho proyecto y que poco a poco subirรฉ en la wishlist. Cualquier detalle, el personaje podrรก ser retirado. ๐ˆ๐ˆ๐ˆ. ฮตรฏะท ยกแด„ส€แด‡ฬแด…ษชแด›แดs! ๐’‡๐’๐’“๐’Ž๐’‚๐’•๐’ ๐–ป๐’š: dreamcatcher.txt. ๐’•๐’†๐’Ž๐’‘๐’๐’‚๐’•๐’† ๐–ป๐’š: ๐šƒ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š—๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ.๐š๐šก๐šย 
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sweetmage ยท 1 year ago
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Deathroot and Embrium for the OCs you most want to talk about (I can't decide!!)
Thank you for the ask!! <3 Let's see... Maybe I will do some characters I don't talk about often ๐Ÿค”Also this got suuuuuper long! I am bad about that, sorry ๐Ÿ˜… Embrium:ย What is the kindest thing anyone had ever done to your character, and do they remember or even know it happened?
One of the most pivotal moments during El'la's brief stay (about 2 years) in the circle was when they first met Owain. It was their first direct interaction with a tranquil mage and they implied that Owain was not a person because of what had been done to him. Their discussion on personhood and emotions really impacted El'la for several reasons: El'la is neurodivergent, they don't emote much, struggle significantly with understanding their own emotions and the emotions of others, and they have their own unique ways of processing and interacting with the world that others may fail to understand. Because of this, they were able to realize their ignorance in implying someone's situation (a cruel one at that, brought about through coercion and inspired by fear and shame) makes them less of a person. Someone close to her (Lorenzo, one of my other OCs) had been made tranquil (against regulations, at that). She never saw him, but she'd heard the news of it and was very unnerved by what that meant for him and what might have become of him. El'la and Lorenzo reconnect years later and she is better able to support and understand him. Most importantly, I think this event is what helped radicalize El'la. Living, breathing people were being exploited by the circle, used for labor and profit, their susceptible natures taken advantage of. On top of that, they were ostracized, othered, and used as examples as if their fate wasn't enough. El'la already despised the circle and the chantry as a whole, but this was certainly their tipping point. El'la aligned herself with the beliefs of libertarian fraternity and later the resolutionists. She also questioned the rest of the Chantry's warnings and teachings, seeking knowledge in "forbidden" practices and familiarizing herself with spirits, blood magic so that she may one day dispel the fears that had been ingrained in her and others about it and find a way to engage with these things in safe and informed manners. It wasn't a sweet and sugary kindness or an emotionally driven one at all, but the time he took to explain to them and undo their biases did more for them than anyone else could have. Deathroot: What is the most horrifying thing the Nightmare can cause your character to see? I am going to put this one under the cut because it contains horror elements and heavy themes relating to Tamlen, 'came back wrong' scenarios, and the like!
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So Savil (pic included because, despite him being one of my OCs with the most detailed backstory as well a DAO and DAI playthrough, I basically never post about him for some reason๐Ÿ˜…) has a pretty clear and definitive fear. So for some backstory: โš  tw horror In his canon, after the ghoul attack on their camp, Tamlen is incapacitated but lives still. Savil informs the other Wardens that this is his friend and he would like some time alone to 'bury him', but he instead deserts the Wardens and runs off with Tamlen. Despite the dangers and ethical questions, he becomes consumed with finding a cure for him even as Tamlen loses more and more of himself. Sometime after DA2, Savil reunites with Merrill who, after much catch up, discussion, and hesitance cures Tamlen of the taint via blood magic. Initially it appears to be a "came back wrong" scenario, though as the years pass by he regains more of himself, his memories and motor skills slowly return, and is ultimately his happy and thankful for his life, but Savil remains horrified at the conditions he allowed him to live in for 7 years and how he selfishly played god with the life of someone he loved. Soooo... all that is to say, what he saw in the fade during DAI were the twisted forms of a Tamlen who was more grotesque and clearly suffering, a Merrill who was under duress and in despair, and many other ghoulish figures representing those he had cut down and never put in the effort to save like he did Tamlen. He has issues :)
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bewaretheidiotsofmarch ยท 1 year ago
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Here's a silly meme of my oc, Saville and Safin๐Ÿคฒ๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ’“
a rare moment
The name of my oc is a play on an alternate spelling of my own last name
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atiredsalmon ยท 25 days ago
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30 Days to DA - OC Intros
Everything turned out fine for me and my family and since it's been about three days and I have 3 OCs, let's introduce them!
Leverette (Levy) Amell - Warden
Levy was my first OC and has gone through a lot of revisions! The Warden, the Hero of Fereldan, former Warden-Commander and currently the High Constable at Weisshaupt, he's an elemental mage that focuses on fire magic. He used to live with his dad in a small cottage hiding in the Brecillian Forest from the templars until he was found out at 7 years old and brought the Kinlock Hold. Duncan was going to recruit some mages anyway and 'rescued' Levy from punishment after helping Jowan. He ended up losing a leg in the battle of Ostagar and the dragon scale given to Wade was turned into his prosthetic! He didn't do the ritual with Morriga but Zevran, his lover, overheard their conversation and talked to Alistair to keep Levy alive.
After the Blight and fixing up Vigil's Keep, he named Nathaniel the new Arl, promoted Alistair to Warden-Commander, and left with Zevran to roam Thedas until the outbreak of the Mage-Templar War had them journeying to Weisshaupt, picking up misplaced apostates to harbor them at the fortress. They were still traveling when the Wardens left with Cory and Levy didn't participate in the Inquisition because Zevran kept intercepting the letters from Leliana before they could reach Levy. He did not go through the false Calling.
He is a scaredy cat who, before the Blight, would accidentally set himself on fire with his magic when spooked, and will still sometimes emit smoke when experiencing strong emotions. He's ace, gay, awkward, and loves Varric's trashy romance novels almost as much as he loves Zevran and loves teaching the thirteen mages they've adopted at Weisshaupt how to use their magic.
Fahleon Lavellan - Warden|Inquisitor
Fahleon is from a Dalish clan outside of Tevinter that was destroyed by bandits. The remaining members joined the Sabrae Clan where he was mentored by Tamlen as a hunter and raised a red kite, Ada, as a hunting partner. His first job was to watch the humans living nearby - Levy and his dad - and his final was to clear out the ruins of monsters. Both he and Tamlen were attacked by blighted animals and he was taken by Ducan for treatment - by way of the Joining. He and Leverette undertook it together, but Fahleon fled during the battle of Ostagar to return to his clan. After surviving the werewolf curse, he followed them to Kirkwall to join with the Lavellan clan in the Free Marches.
Some time sfter the Blight, Fahleon received notice from the Wardens that they were being recalled to Weisshaupt. Afraid this meant trouble for his clan yet again, he parted ways to live on his own on the run. While crossing the Frostback Mountains, he was caught up in the explosion of the Temple of Sacred Ashes and became the Inquisitor.
After Trespasser. he joined the Red Jenny's as an excuse to hunt down the rest of the Venatori and Tevinter slavers, often laying low between jobs in the Arlathan Forest with the Veiljumpers that Savill joined. Occasionally he does do Red Jenny work, and one job he ran into the Shadow Dragons and ended up joining them. My headcanon is that Merrill started the Veiljumpers, and when she finds out Fahleon was with them, she gets word that Solas is still out there via Varric.
He never got along with anyone in the Inquisition and even Varric is held at arm's length - for which Varric gave him the nickname 'Smiles'. He does not, in fact, ever smile unless its watching Cullen trip down the stairs or watch Cassandra frustratingly look for a buckle o her armor that Fahleon definitely stole. He's selectively mute and speaks more in a Dalish handsign but his favorite word to say is 'no'. He did not romance anyone but he and Dorian did get together a few times for 'stress relief'. When Ada passed a few years after the Inquisiton disbanded, he befriended a leopard in the Arlathan Forest while recovering from a job. He could never replace Ada, hence why he's given her the name Antra, for second.
Savill (Sav) Trevelyan: Inquisition Arcanist
Savill was born from an arranged wedding between two low nobles in the Tevinter Magisterium in the hopes of producing a strong mage to raise them higher in the ranks. Savill was less than they hoped. In fact, his magic came late at 10 years old and so weak that his parents sent him to study with a tutor to be rid of him. Afraid of what his overbearing father and uncaring mother would think if he returned with no better talents, he turned to blood magic. He made a deal with a Desire demon who he named Sweets - power in exchange for her seeing the world. Driven mad by the initial possession, he took out his own eye for her to do just that, and when his tutor found out what he'd done, Savill struck him down to protect what little reputation he had.
Now technically the head of a household, Savill tried to gather further influence but was influenced himself by the Venatori. It led him to Corypheus, where he rose up the ranks to be one of the top researches of Red Lyrium and was in charge of helping to execute the false Calling. He was captured in the battle of Haven and imprisoned. Threatened with death, Savill insisted that he could give them all the information the Inquisition needed about Red Lyrium and Cory's plans for it. He traded the dungeons for the Undercroft, and worked under Cullen's close eye on dismantling Cory's inventions and studying his artifacts.
Near the end of the Inquisition's time, Savill realized that he had changed, and, with him, so had Sweets. Savill had found power and a place to belong, and Sweets had found love. With the change, Savill's eye started to heal as Desire became Purpose and, after the Inquisition disbanded, he sought out another. His initial intention was to return to Tevinter with Dorian and help reroute the vestiages of Cory's supporters, but could never let go of his the interests he found while studying magic with the Inquisition. He jointed the Veiljumpers instead, and is helping Varric track down Solas' location through them.
He is pretty much a pampered rich boy, even in the dungeons, but he rolls with every punch thrown at him. Despite his seemingly aloofness, he's more intelligent and crafty that he acts and he spends most of his time working even if everyone says they only see him slacking. He constantly flirts with anyone but put real effort into wooing Josephine. While his remaining eye is a golden amber, when his damaged starts to heal it's a striking blue color.
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kanerallels ยท 10 months ago
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#1, 7, 8, and 15 for the fic ask game, please ?
1.What's something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again? Ummmm good question. Oh! With one of the random obsessions I had this year, I didn't overthink my need to write fan fic, or go overboard. Instead I just wrote a bunch of one shots while the obsession remained, and didn't get too worried about the plot or anything. It was really fun, turned out well, and I think I would do it again!
7. What character(s) captured your heart? ALWAYS Kanera. But I had a lot of fun writing some (unpublished) Trilla content, and Inspector Wellington from Miss Scarlet And The Duke was very fun to write!
8. Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year? Yup! Probably some others, but the main one I can think of would be Miss Scarlet and the Duke (William x Eliza) and The Company You Keep (Charlie x Emma, obviously!). Oh and Saville and Galen from Valiant by Sarah McGuire, too! OH WAIT AND CHENFORD FROM THE ROOKIE dang I wrote for a lot of new ships this year
15. Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023! Oooh! Um let's go with "Traditions", one of my two Jacen Syndulla Week fan fics! It features our Ghost crew beloveds, plus also my OC ship for Jacen which I wrote roughly 53 k words of context for a couple years back
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leam1983 ยท 1 year ago
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Types
I used to think that being poly meant an end to most fantasies. I thought it would mean those three or four OCs I spent using strictly as a medium to yank on my crank would be pushed in some musty corner of my subconscious, but a check-in with Walter was all I'd need to realize that fantasies are like cockroaches. You can't kill them, but they also have a role to play in your relationship's ecosystem.
We just settled into bed and I mention this to Walt, who seems nonplussed. "George Grimm isn't real and he couldn't be real, hon. Am I supposed to be jealous of a made-up guy you've pulled up AI art renders of? He's never actually touched you, never actually kissed you - and you know what I noticed?"
Walt smirks. "You're feeling guilty about it. That means you probably went at it last week, during one of the two evenings I spent at the office, and now you've got irrational guilt pangs about having cheated on me with a JPEG of a guy that could be me if I got everything tailored on Saville Row and had absolutely zero backdoor shyness in regards to your kinks."
His smirk turns into a chiding gesture. "You're being silly, you silly goose. We've sploshed - you know we're open concerning our kinks. Come on, tell me about him. Tell me about George Graham Grimm the Food Vampire."
I figure I'll do it like this, instead.
George was a solid coping mechanism in my late teens, someone who's cropped up in my dreams during a phase of my life that saw me define myself as unloveable by default. I don't remember the specifics of that particular dream, but I do remember the broad strokes.
I dreamt I was dragged to some sort of symposium by my Ph. D. of an aunt and was forced to spend four hours dipping my lips in cheap champagne while pretending like I didn't have a piteous inferiority complex. Dreams go as they're wont to do, elastic and fluid in their arrangement of Time, and I find a secluded dining room on the floor being used by the reception. Its dรฉcor is ornate, and its four massive tables are arranged in a square. In the middle of one of the sides is seated a mountain of a man, about four hundred pounds and change, and he's dressed in custom-tailored clothing that's probably cost a fortune. As obese as he is, he's the most smartly-dressed of the assembly, with a bowtie and vest combo that's so perfect you'd swear he was born with them. His thick fingers are impossibly agile, swiping things from the piles and piles of food waiting on the table and wolfing them down with a mixture of sheer abandon and meticulous precision - extended pinky finger included. He somehow never stains himself and his thick and flowing beard remains immaculate no matter how fast he goes. His utensils are barely touched, and he instead keeps going back to sucking on his fingers. He's a very vocal eater, groaning in appreciation or drowning a satisfied chuckle in an umpteenth bite. He does it all with his eyes closed and a light frown, almost as though he's got a mental map of the table's furnishings he keeps perfectly up-to-date.
Considering the amount of food that's involved, my first thought is that this is actually a buffet and this dude here's just decided he'd click on that I Will Attend link for the RSVP for the exact purpose of stuffing his face with free food. I don't remember the exact dialog in the dream, so I'll sub what was probably said with what actually makes sense in-context. Guy sounds like Tony Jay and Sydney Greenstreet made love and had a posh, congested and vaguely eerie descendant - and he stops between two bites, eyes opening to reveal two gray slivers behind his bifocals and his thick and well-groomed snowy-white eyebrows.
"Pardon the intrusion, but I don't recall the help replacing the buffet sign on this table..."
Just that is enough to prime my hind brain. This man's voice is the stuff my insecure adolescent self's dreams are made of. The snootiest Received English Pronounciation imaginable, rendered in a low and rough timbre by a guy who looks more fit to mumble than ti articulate - except everything is crisp. My flustered teenage brain thinks he's being contemptuous so I nervously blurt out a response - and he laughs.
I woke up, the first time my subconscious made George Grimm laugh. Again, it's Tony Jay and Greenstreet melded together, as if normal people had Plosive Laughing Prefixes without veering into outright guffaws, or as if your classic swell of Evil Laughter could've actually sounded congenial.
"Never you mind, dear boy - I was merely... indulging."
Over time, I'd realize George refuses to call eating what it is. He seeks repaste or regales his tastebuds, or maybe he prays to the God of Luxury, which I've always taken as being my subconscious regurgitating my brief obsession with Roman mythology. Grimm does fit the bill for some sort of modernized and expanded take on Dionysius and he did first come into being during my High School History classes on the Roman civilization.
"Go on, fix yourself a plate," he then says. "I'll hardly miss these bites you'll take."
I realize that he's serious, at that moment. He was rearing to polish off all four of these tables on his own. Something makes me want to keep my distance and to settle with clearing off a bit of table surface for my plate - and what I put in it never quite gels into something. It's like AI Art's idea of a plate of food, with chunks of unidentified meat, mounds of recursive and self-cannibalizing stringy pasta, black masses that might be meatballs or olives, it's hard to tell - and Dream Logic being what it is, I'm not fazed by this at all. My plate seems endless, but I work through it at a pace that I assume matches with my usual pace for a normal-sized meal. In the meantime, the big man's gaining speed at an impossible rate. He's slurping, gnashing, worrying, moaning and grunting his way towards my location, and I get the sense that he'll just keep getting faster if I try and slip away. So, half-convinced this just flipped into Nightmare Country, I feel the dream turn lucid as the overly-dressed organic Shop-Vac I'm seated with works his way through enough food for twelve people in a few seconds. He stops right next to me, daintily raised a tiny piece of cheese to his mouth and politely covers his mouth. If he's burped, no sound's been made.
He turns to face me and outstretches a hand that certainly has the mitt-like qualities of the appendages of particularly fatter people, but with an almost feline level of grace.
"George Graham Grimm - monster, scholar, gentleman, professor amongst others - at your service."
I take his hand. There's an instant of tension, the sense that Grimm's hunger's just shifted - and he's warm, warm like I've never felt anyone's hands being, before.
What I remember is that this was enough for my dream self to practically climb over his immense paunch and perch myself on it. His amusement and surprise immediately turns to relish, and George's kisses would be my measurement for Decent Snoggings for years, up until I met Prof - and eventually Walt. The specifics leave me, but I do know I dump everything on this posh quasi-ogre. Time dilation being what it is, George ends up being the perfect listener, as you'd assume, and he knows his voice is basically single-malt whiskey down my ears - again with weird plosive inclusions that make it so he hungrily moans or grunts at the beginning of every other sentence.
Obviously, my subconscious and my loins don't care about logical progression - we're Together, and that's it. George would crop up every now and again, typically when arousal was mixed with loneliness, and he'd call me his "dear boy" by repeating the word dear a good ten times or so.
Unsurprisingly, Younger Grem had Sugar Daddy fantasies and dreamed of a man large enough to be heavier than a loaded semi who'd take him out to walks and daintily request stops for "snacks" that would involve lifting hot dog carts ร  la Obelix the Gaul and tipping them into his open gullet. I understand that I spoke, in those dreams, but I don't remember anything I ever said. Even George's actual words faded, but I was left with a sense of either glowing praise or the sort of public expression of physical attraction that would normally make people ill-at-ease. Dude was horny on main the same way I was, adolescence oblige, and bowties-plus-silk-scarves affairs turned into spy thrillers as we both tried to find a sufficiently quiet and secluded space that would let us screw each other wild instead of catering to a gaggle of strangers in galas and receptions neither of us knew what to do with.
Then came Prof, and now Walt and Sarah. I started to feel guilty about an overdressed fatty that would've never left the confines of my mind - especially in regards to Walt.
The coincidence didn't escaspe me, back then. George Graham Grimm. Walter C. George. Walter's actually Grimm with the brakes on, the much more realistic idea of what it means to have a plus-sized boyfriend. The closeness isn't always welcomed on my end of things, seeing as I want to enjoy the Actual Man's emotional and intellectual availability, but my hind brain wants the Fake Man's relentless libido or his appetite. It's not that much of a problem, but it makes those occasional times that see me superimpose red paisley-patterned silk over Walter's gray gabardine feel like a dereliction I'm the only one to perceive.
I guess I needed George Grimm, back in the day. I needed a belly platform so big I could sleep over his chest without my feet touching the mattress, or the eventual internal running commentary on the various happenings in my life. I needed a guy with so much self-confidence and zest for life that he could turn morbid obesity around on a dime and make it look sexy. I do channel him on occasion, when I have to be snippier or more authoritative than I usually am. I probably needed the embryonic forms of the Loudest Fake Lover in Existence to make some inroads about my sexuality. I probably needed the imagined bedroom theatrics, Grimm gnashing his perfect teeth at me over climax, heatedly declaring that "our exquisite flesh" would "endure for aeons".
I think everyone needs or wants a concept of a certain "Forever Love", past a certain age, and it's probably natural to start out with an idea, a dream, a fantasy that's gone a little haywire in my case, that still sometimes looms over me while I'm working on our server stack, smelling of expensive cologne and of the cooked juices of something that's been expensively prepared. I don't need running commentary from Walt; he's always right around the corner!
George Graham Grimm, however - monster, scholar, gentleman, professor amongst others - hasn't really left my side for a good twenty-three years.
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absintheancandle ยท 3 years ago
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suffer with a comic that was originally a joke that i took too far bc Inspiration:tm: struck, a guy that is not an idv oc, and a chart of. intentionally poorly drawn idiots. ask me about doll society and economics and their laws on body modification and how saville is not actually committing necromancy and yet is still bringing the dead back โ€œsomehowโ€ aND AFFINITIES IM OBSESSED WITH AFFINITY MAGIC okay this originally had an โ€œ/hjโ€ at the end but this isnt a joke anymore these guys are living in my brain anyways iโ€™ll probably. post more designs later as i make em hehe. including savilles more.casual clothing. yeah
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