#this is completely self-indulgent mkay??

[q1ngqve]

🪷🫧💭 — this is completely self indulgent i need to fuck this man so bad it's not even a joke at this point

CW; fem! reader, blow job, slight bondage, you're wearing heels, lipstick, and your nails are long enough to scratch at him (lmao)

a big smile spreads across his face as you pepper kisses all over his collarbones, your hands roaming over his chest, mapping him out with your soft fingers, almost giving away his act of being restraint by you.

you have him tied up in thick red ropes that weave around his upper body, his hands bound at the back. a soft ‘thump’ echoes through the room as your heels land between his legs on the chair. the smile on the general’s face widens at the sight before him, earning himself a peck on his lips from you.

"pray tell, what did I do to receive such an amazing view of my wife today?"

your hands reach up to grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and tilting his head up. "it's your reward for working hard this week." you smile as a soft "hnng" escapes from the man below you when the bottom of your heels presses against his bulge.

jing yuan reciprocates your smile, his golden eyes hooded as he feigns confusion, playing along with your game. "why am i tied up then? I want to touch my beautiful wife." you both know he can easily escape the restraints, but he enjoys letting you take control once in a while. it's not often he gets to be pampered by you like this.

you lean back, both feet planted firmly on the ground. "just sit back and enjoy, mkay?" the general's eyes never leave you, even when you get on your knees, your hands sliding teasingly up along his inner thighs.

he laughs to himself at how absolutely smitten he is with you, observing every inch of your face as you release him from his pants and wrap your hand around his base. your lips part slightly as your breathing quickens, tongue darting out to lick at your lips at the sight of him, hard and leaking pre-cum.

you plant kisses on his tip, smearing his pre-cum all over your lips, making them shine like gloss. jing yuan curses under his breath as he watches you play with him, and the sound of him cursing has you clenching your thighs together.

"my love— stop teasing."

you pull away slightly and look up at him through your lashes. "but where's the fun in that? I'm supposed to make you feel as good as possible." he chuckles at the pout on your face; if his hands were free, he'd be patting and caressing your head affectionately right now.

despite your protest, you take him deep in your mouth, quickly retracting once he hits the back of your throat, repeating the process a few times until he's bucking his hips to meet your lips, desperate to stay in your warm cavern.

unable to take all of him, your hands play with the base of his cock, squeezing and softly scraping your nails against it, knowing it gets his nerves tingling and head dizzy.

your head snaps up sharply, releasing him with a 'pop', your lips still parted and your tongue slightly lolling out. he's managed to free himself from the restraints while you were busy teasing him, determined to drive him over the edge.

jing yuan practically whimpers at the sight of the hints of red lipstick on his dick left behind by your swollen lips. "I don't mean to ruin your fun, my love, but you're driving me insane." your yelp is stifled as he presses your head, stuffing you full of him once more.

your whines reverberate around him as he fucks your throat, your eyes widening when you feel him grow impossibly big inside you. "fuck— just like that, baby. you're doing so good f'me." a swell of pride fills your chest, knowing you've managed to make the mighty general feel so good he's slurring his speech.

with one hand at the back of your head, his free hand cups your cheek, his thumb swiping away your tears. beautiful groans emerge from deep within his chest as his fucks you faster, his hand tugging at your roots as your throat constricts around his tip deliciously.

you whimper when hot spurts of cum fill your mouth, your eyelashes fluttering as you watch him roll his head back, a loud moan of your name echoing throughout the room. you continue sucking until he's come down from his high, gently tugging you away softly with a tender smile on his face.

jing yuan releases your hair and grabs your chin, tilting your head up. your mouth opens and your tongue slips out slightly, showing him that you've swallowed every drop. he laughs at your reaction, your eyes big and teary, waiting for his praise eagerly.

"thank you for the reward, my love." he pulls you up, making you straddle his lap as he plants kisses on your neck, making you giggle. "now, I do believe it's my turn to reward you for doing such a good job, don't you think?"

[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[muli-wam]

I'm yours

summary: suguru geto, the second most popular guy in school (gojo being the first 🙄), the man ladies swoon over for his charm, looks and personality, also happens to be your beloved boyfirend. Because of his status its hard to get away from prying eyes and thirsty girls. Most of the time it never bothers you but sometimes you can't help but let the intrusive thoughts get the best you you.

pairing: suguru geto x fem!reader

cw: slight angst, fluff, comfort, gojo being obnoxious, jealousy, oral (f receiving), fingering, pls lmk if I missed anything im rlly tired rn

wc: 2.9k

Authors note: mkay so this is like- my first fic I've posted ON THIS ACCOUNT and I haven't wrote in a minute so I'm TERRIBLY sorry if this is terrible. Gimme some time okay 🤧 promise I'll get better. You can check out my other fics @muliwam Anyways enjoy <3 also this is a bit a lot self indulgent hehe

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8:03 am

You and Suguru were walking hand in hand across campus to your first lecture of the day: Calculus.

You drag your feet as you walk, groaning in tiredness.

"I just want to go to bed," You whine. Why on God's green earth was calculus your FIRST class of the day?

"Stop your complaining. You'll be fine," Suguru says, annoyed while gently nudging your side. Suguru pulls you closer to him as you weave through the crowd of students.

"We do this every morning and you complain about it every morning. It's not that bad,"

"Yeah, easy for you to say. You're not the one with calculus at eight in the morning," you grumble.

Suguru lets out a light chuckle before nudging you again, "Well at least you have something to look forward to later. Satoru won't stop blabbing his big mouth about a cat cafe that opened up down the road. He wants to take us."

"I thought he was a dog person...?" You furrow your brows while looking up at him.

"Yeaaah, he just wants to go for the sweets. He'll do anything for dessert," he chuckles before letting out a deep sigh.

Satoru always had a sweet tooth and even despite nanami's badgering, saying he's not gonna have his teenage body forever. It always ends with, "come onnnnnuhhhhh nanami. We are not old yet!"

"Incoming," you whisper a few moments later as you approach the group of girls that wait for Suguru to pass by every morning. This is a daily occurrence for you guys. While he's walking you to class this group of girls wait for him so they can talk to him and try and put their grubby hands on him.

"Oh, hey Geto! Was wondering if you could help me study for Mr. Drew's test coming up? I'm really stumped on a few things and was hoping you could help?" One of the girls says while twirling her hair around her finger and holding his bicep.

"O-oh um," geto only gets a couple words out before another girl on his right approaches him, completely ignoring you and shoving you to the side.  You look at her in disbelief while Suguru throws you a weary look.

"Can you help me too, Geto? History isn't really my thing. I'm pretty dumb when it comes to these kinds of things," She giggles while putting her hand on Getos shoulder.

You've never been affected by this kind of behavior but this seemed a little overboard. Usually they just try and strike up a conversation or homework help, but today is different. Why are they touching what's yours?

You think maybe you're overthinking it, but recently you've noticed suguru getting more and more attention, which in turn made you feel neglected and left out. Always being pushed to the sidelines like you're just a person in other people's story.

"Sorry ladies but I have to escort my beautiful girl to class. I'm sure you can manage by yourselves, no?" He didn't wait for an answer while he grabbed your hand and walked off. The girls stood there in shock and jealousy.

"That was crazier than normal huh?" Geto chuckles while looking down at you. You let out a breathy chuckle while looking down at your feet.

"Yeah, uh.... was pretty crazy huh?"

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4:25 pm

All day long you couldn't help but think about what happened that morning. Or in front of your classroom. Geto got swarmed again by girls asking for directions to a certain place or if they could study with him one on one.

He declined them all but you were still afraid that he would see something in these girls that might have spiked his interest. You thought that he might leave you for one of them. I mean, come on anyone with two eyes and a brain can see that these girls are beautiful.

They're popular, and pretty, and suguru could easily have one of them with just one word.

You had just been so stressed and insecure about a lot of things lately that you didn't realize that he was ignoring them the whole time. You didn't want to voice your feelings to him though, typical ol' you, scared you might come off as possessive.

Throughout the entire day you were so caught up in your head. Even at the cafe, Nanami asked you if you were okay. You smiled and nodded at him while continuing to watch Suguru play with a black cat.

You walked over to Geto and sat next to him while carrying a baby kitten who you named Mr. Chomper because he kept trying to nibble on your hair. You recall reading that his real name was Arthur but you didn't think it suited him well.

"Well hello there Mister," Geto smiles while petting the cat in your arms. The cat he was previously playing with seemed to get a bit jealous and started pawing at his hand.

"And hello to this beautiful lady," Geto says before leaning in and pecking your forehead and then your lips.

You smile while cuddling up closer to him, closing your eyes and leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Y'tired?" He quietly asks while grabbing your hand in his.

"Mhm," you nod.

Geto could sense something was wrong but he didn't want to bring it up until you guys were home.

"Do you wanna-" Geto starts before he gets abruptly cut off by an obnoxious white haired man who is also his best friend.

"OOOO DO YOU GUYS WANT TO GO GET ICE CREAM NOW!?" Satoru jumps up and down with a baby kitten in his hands. Nanami looks at him in horror, fearful for the poor cat that Gojo is holding.

"I was thinking we could get frozen yogurt! Wait no I actually want a milkshake... Hmmmmm- AHHHHH" Gojo lets out an insanely high pitch yelp as he turns to see a cat nibbling on his shoelace.

"HELP MEEEEEE ITS EATING ME!!!"

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO DIE." Satoru hollers. You, Suguru and Nanami try holding back your laughs as Gojo stands there in agony.

Geto stands and goes to pick up the cat that's chewing on his shoelace before saying, "I think me and ______ are gonna head home. You and Nanami could go though?"

Nanami is quick to reply, "aaaactually I have studying to do. Sorry Gojo, you're on your own." Nanami collects his things, says his goodbyes and gives the cat he was hanging out with one last pet before walking out.

"WHAT? You guys are really abandoning me huh. Y'know if shoko was here right now she would-" Geto cuts him off,

"Shoko is studying for her big medical exam coming up. I don't think she would hang out with you even if she could." You giggle silently next to Geto.

"And here I thought you guys were my friends." Gojo says in mock sadness.

You three say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

"Ready to head home, pretty?" Geto grabs your hand while walking to his car. You nod while getting in.

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8:54 pm

It was nighttime now and you and Geto just finished eating dinner. You two shared an apartment together since you weren't comfortable with living on campus or having a roommate.

You've been silent the whole night, only saying a few short word answers here and there, but you were still so in your head about the earlier incident.

You started thinking about similar incidents in the past, over analyzing everything that happened, like the waiter at that restaurant last week, or the cashier at the grocery store. You started to feel childish for feeling this way.

Maybe it was from past relationships that caused you to feel this way, to feel the jealousy you're feeling now.

Geto was starting to worry, not used to your silence since you're usually a very talkative and outgoing person. He decided to talk to you about it.

"My love?" Geto walks into your bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt.

"Yeah? Is everything okay?" You ask while looking up at him from your desk. You were working on an extra credit assignment for your physics class.

Geto sits on your bed, a faint creek coming from it. "C'mere," he nods at you, patting the spot next to him.

You get up and sit down next to him.

"Talk to me, baby. You've seemed kinda off all day." He puts his hand on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles on it to calm you down since he could feel you getting anxious.

You bite the skin from your lips before replying, m'fine. Just tired is all." You avoid eye contact with him, knowing that if you looked him in the eye you would break.

"C'mon I know that's not why. Did I do something wrong?" He tilts his head down, trying to look at you.

"You didn't do anything... I just-" you start before deciding not to say anything. You were afraid of what he might think, that he may say you're being possessive or childish.

"You just what? Baby I can't read your kind. If you want to fix this you gotta tell me what's wrong." he gently grabs your hands while leaning his forehead on yours.

You hesitate for a moment before sighing, "it's just what happened this morning. It kinda got to me. That's all though. I know it's stupid."

Geto had a feeling that was why but didn't want to make assumptions. He saw your face when that girl pushed you out of the way earlier and he saw the way your face fell when they all kept asking him for directions and stuff. 

was aware that this affected you, even if only a little bit. I mean, he would feel the same if he were you. Geto couldn't count on one hand the amount of times he got jealous when guys asked him for your number before you two started dating since they knew you guys were close. When people found out you were taken, guys were too afraid to make a move on you, scared of what Geto might do.

Geto knew there was more to the situation but he didn't want to pry, opting on talking about it later when you weren't so stressed.

"Aw, baby I'm so sorry you feel that way. I wish I could help in some way but there's not much I can do about this." He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, enveloping you in his warmth and comfort.

You bury your head in the crook of his neck, "I'm sorry I know it's childish and stupid and I'm probably being dramatic right now but-" Geto abruptly cuts you off with a passionate kiss.

You melt in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You felt like fireworks were going off and like all your stress and troubles were lifted off your shoulders.

He pulls away slightly and your lips chase him again before he says, "Don't say that about yourself. You're not being childish and dramatic, you're just a little jealous and that's okay." You blush while he continues,

"You're going through a lot right now. with studying and homework, I know you're probably tired mentally. I'm here for you though. I'm yours and I want to take care of you. And I know there's more to this, you just don't want to tell me right now but that's okay." He slightly chuckles towards the end while cupping your face in his hand.

You look at him with slightly watery eyes, "Thank you... I really needed that." You say quietly.

Suguru smiles before going in to kiss you again, this time more passionate than the last. You feel his hands creep to your waist to pull you in closer to him, shifting you to straddle his lap.

"I love you," he whispers while kissing down your neck.

"so, so much. I'm yours, yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile at him before kissing him again, your tounge wandering through his mouth.

"Say it." He whispers against your lips. You pull back slightly.

"Say it. Say that I'm yours and that you're mine." He nips at your earlobe before whispering again,

"Say it"

"I'm yours, and you're mine. Forever." You gasp.

Suguru's large hands palm your ass before giving it a firm smack. You let out a small whimper before starting to kiss down his neck.

You can feel his quickening pulse as you kiss and lick down his neck, biting down where his shoulder and neck meet.

He groans as he leave butterfly kisses on your cheek and neck before crawling to the top of the bed and flipping you on your back. You hear the springs from the mattress creek in the process. Suguru sits back on his knees while admiring your beautiful body.

"So beautiful," he whispers to himself. He leans down and starts to trail wet kisses down your neck, then to your stomach. He brings one of his hands up to fondle your breast through the fabric of your shirt and bra.

You sigh as you feel his wet lips suck and bite at your belly, trailing kisses down until he reaches the waistband of your sweats.

Sugurus violet eyes look up at you, silently asking for permission. You nod yes as you run your fingers through his raven locks.

He slowly pulls down you bottoms, kissing his way down your legs in the process. He throws your pants behind him, not paying any attention as to where.

He kisses his way back up your leg before stopping at your already dripping core.

He looks up at you once again smirking slightly. "Can I?" He rasps.

"God yes," you groan, slowly becoming impatient.

He quickly pulls off your panties and tosses them while admiring your dripping heat.

You get a little embarrassed and try closing you legs, but Geto let's out disapproving tuts before prying them back open.

He immediately dives nose deep into your core, licking at your folds and sucking on your sensitive nub.

You moan in pleasure, the sensations of his wet tounge against you causing tingles throughout your entire body. You grip at his hair and start grinding your hips against his face.

"Mhmmm yes baby use me.. use my face baby, you deserve it." Geto hums against your cunt.

"Fuckk Suguru that feels so good." You cry out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Suguru shakes his face against your cunt, shoving his toung in as far as it would go, before adding two of his long digits knuckle deep into your pussy.

"Y'gonna cum baby? Hm? Y'gonna come on my fingers?" Suguru says honestly as he drinks up your juices that were dripping down his hand. You cry out in overwhelming pleasure as you feel your climax coming.

Suguru pumps his fingers faster, feeling your cunt clench and unclench around his digits, signaling your close.

"Yes, yes, yes, please don't stop, please don't stop please," You scream.

"Yes baby yes, cum on my fingers baby, you can do it. I know you can," suguru talks you through it as you feel your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You felt your vision go white and your eyes roll back as far as they could. You felt as if you died and went to heaven. Your body feels like its lighter than a feather, like your floating in an eternal abyss.

"F-FUuuuukkkk yess" You yell out as suguru rides out your high with his fingers. You body convulses against his face and fingers as you let out heaves of air, trying to catch your breath.

"Goooood girl. Did so good f'me." Suguru whispers before slowly pulling his fingers out of your pussy, placing a gentle kiss on it before climbing up the bed to kiss you as well.

He runs soothing hands up and down your body while gently kissing you, whispering sweet nothings to you and moving the hair out of your face.

"Did so well for me," He smiles lazily at you. You felt like you couldn't even talk, still stuck in the post orgasmic haze.

Once you come back to reality, you feel Sugurus hard bulge against your thigh and you reack a shaky hand down to palm it but he stops you.

"No baby I'm okay. Just wanted to take care of you," he decided he would take care of himself when your sound asleep but for now he just wanted to take care of you.

You didn't argue with him when he said that, too tired to even try.

Suguru got up to grab your panties and one of his tee shirts for you to change into. He quickly grabbed a glass to water and had you drink some before gently putting the clothes on you before tucking you into bed next to him.

"Rest, my love." He whispers against your head.

"I love you suguru." You say tiredly before slowly drifting off into unconsciousness.

"I love you too, more than you could ever know." Is the last thing suguru says to you before you fall asleep.

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Please do not copy or translate my work on here or other platforms without MY permission

[husbandohunter]

YOOO hello!! first of all, I hope you are doing well Nya ^^ remember to take care of yourself, stay healthy, and drink lots of water, mkay? good good :) (ur writing is astounding btw i love it sm)

second, may i request a childe angsty (not much tho, just missing him- does that count as angst lmao) + fluffy scenario (or the uh dot hcs thing?? with lil scenario after it?? idk how to call it 💀 but yeah you can choose :D) with a timid, reserved s/o? like... you're feeling a bit down and miss him, waiting for him to return- and when he does, you just- dash into his arms, while he sits there paralyzed, since you don't generally initiate the affection. too shy to do so- however when u do he softens at ur cuteness,, (regretting your decision afterwards cause he makes you blush while praising you- way too easily- and he admires you more while u bashfully avoid his gaze-)

and while cuddling he asks as to why you did that, if something occurred... noticing you were sniffling instead of talking, he halted to take a look at your face, freezing once he saw your profile, crystal clear tears painting it. wiping them away, he cupped your cheeks with his greater hands and before he could utter another word, you answered him, his worried expression transforming into a surprised one unimaginably fast.

"I just... love you so much Ajax. I love you..."

repeating that over and over while delicately holding his hands close to you, a soft smile decorating your lips as you leaned into his palms. and he just. smiles too completely melting-

aand that's all i can think of-- i hope that gave you enough fuel to think of the scene hh- obv take your time with it pls don't feel rushed okay? ik you're busy and have many requests already hh ^^ take a break if you must! farewell!!

Sweetness [Childe x Reader]

Synopsis: Childe can expect all kinds of ambushes but not the one that attacks him in the heart!

Genre: gender neutral reader, mild angst to fluffy fluff

(A/n): First off you’re so sweet anon. I don’t mean to take this long but I do think about the blog and you guys every once in a while. I hope this was to your liking, though got self-indulgent with the last part xD Childe is either badass or an absolute clown🤡 there’s no in between

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• Childe had been sent away on a mission in Snezhnaya two months ago. He wrote letters to you in his absence. Until the weekly letters became nonexistent. It was due to the fact been busy over the course.

• But you didn't know that. Demands of being the 11th Harbinger had made things difficult for him to even sit down and relax.

• And when he finally got the chance to pick up his inkset, the man falters yet again over another crumpled sheet tossed into the waste basket.

• How on Teyvat should he begin after weeks going cold? Since when was the last time the two of you properly talked? Were you so furious that you didn't write back?

He felt as if he was being physically beaten by these incessant questions, plagued by scenarios that don't exist.

Childe blankly stares at the ceiling of his hotel suite. It was deathly quiet. The candle burns alight, confined in the glassjar designed by Snezhnayan antiques, and he swore he could even hear wax dripping down the sides.

The Harbinger slaps a hand over his face and groans, "Haaaa, I can't believe I'm actually losing my mind over this."

Hopefully no one sees him in his current state. Their Fatui leader fussing with love letters akin to a teenage boy's first crush. Earlier the evening Childe announced to his assistant that no one shall disturb him while he is issuing an important message to overseas, otherwise they meet a harsh punishment under his command. That was an excuse. A very silly excuse. There was no diplomacy to be made overseas, just one man missing his lover.

The picture of your most recent expression shows up and Childe meticulously carves it out of his imagination. While you were not the type to be vocal about your affections, reserved and somewhat aloof, somehow that itself was a charm of yours. Perhaps he likes a good challenge, perhaps the spark between you two ignited when he kissed you on a fluke. And when you couldn't form the words to your clouded thoughts, actions alone were more than enough for the man to be satisfied.

"Let's see where this goes, yeah?"

Then one meeting turns to another, three dates turn to four, and before he knew it, Childe has been looking forward to spending time with you ever since. A part of him waiting for answers yet to be said. Do you like him the way he likes you? Even though everything he does appears to be whimsical and reckless? This long distance makes him think they were almost not real drives him mad.

What if you were seeing someone else?

A pause, the information too great for him to process. Childe spasms in his seat and slaps both palms flat on the surface table, sounds resonating through the room, enough for his assistant outside to hear.

Nah, who am I kidding? The man waves off the idea like an impractical joke. There's just no way. Sure you were attractive and alluring with mystique, Childe is certain that he had no competition. After all he was a Fatui Harbinger for Archon's sake. Crafty, handsome, strong with a good sense of humor, he's your ideal man. No one's got a shot at this other than him.

Except all those statements existed only in his head.

How the hell should he know what you're thinking about?! The man rests his face on a propped up palm, tapping the desk with the other as he thought deeply. No, a love letter won't work anymore. He needs a new way, preferably something enough to encapsulate his charms as he sweeps you off your feet and makes your heart race at the idea of him. He needs a strategy.

Should I invite them for a fancy dinner?

Childe has already done that a few times, something fresh would be more preferable. Oh, he could pull off the classy tactic of buying a bouquet of flowers and surprising you with it. But that's so cliche. Ugh, he cringes, what if you think he's lame?!

The assistant guarding outside knocks on the door, "Sir, is everything alright?"

"Yes," Childe replies back, rather annoyed, "I thought I told you not to bother me."

"M-My apologies," he hears the assistant scurry away in quick steps.

Finally, some peace. The Harbinger checks the time. It was half past sunset. All the soldiers should be assigned to their pre-booked rooms since was going to be their last departure.

"Fuck...." Childe breathly mutters. This is taking longer than it should. He already had you guessing over his actions, for a month in fact. At this rate, he'd have to show up without a pre-warning explanation of why he wasn't answering your calls.

The snowstorm outside ceases to relent like a reflection of his own. What he feels right now, what he's doing, the Harbinger knows well enough this wasn't some fluke. Childe sinks into his arms and looks at the flickering candle, focusing on it's small flame, wondering, if you're thinking of him the same way.

• Sitting by the windowsill, watching the view that leads to your front yard, visualizing a cheerful man with ginger hair and waving from the trees.

• Ajax. You missed him but wasn't sure how to say it. Papers and envelopes were tucked away in a corner where you could easily reach, savored and impatient for his return.

• They were mostly filled with stories about his homeland, places that he wanted to take you, and sometimes mentioning how his work got the better of him. You figured his silence must be the fact he was busy. At least, that's what you convinced yourself to believe.

• What could he be doing right now?

Ajax's name hasn't appeared in your mailbox for quite a while.

The splash of water runs when you release the tap, absentmindedly scrubbing away remains of leftovers and takeout from last night's dish. Two months ago he appeared at your doorstep in his usual brazen entrance. And it was the same day he had to announce his departure.

"Borsche," you said with a smile. Ajax mentioned how he'd personally bring ingredients from Snezhnaya, bringing as in sneaking, so you could be his first ever foreign taste tester. Of course you'd like anything he'd cook regardless, but he was joyful talking about his family from home that you wanted to explore a little more of this new side of his.

You thought you wouldn't mind the long distance communication, however, it seems you've severely overestimated yourself. After the final meal at your house, Ajax walks towards the exit, the both of you knowing how agonizingly slow it was. You recall looking at him in that deep ocean gaze, trying to say what wanted to be said. Him waiting with anticipation.

"Good luck with your mission!"

• What a mistake, that was the perfect chance and you just couldn't muster up the courage to tell him. You know he was expecting something, you know he's been patient with you, and you're tired of guessing.

• There were days where a part of you doubts if he still feels the same. Days when you felt that all of this might be one sided and you were just another fling in his eyes. Days when you think he actually wouldn't return.

• Eventually, you couldn't help but truly believe he left you for someone else, finally fed up with you beating around the bush.

Despite all the obvious signs from Ajax's lack of communication, you wanted to try one last time.

Yesterday was the day he said he would be coming back to Liyue. The sky looked as if it were about to rain any moment. People crowded under the nearest roof they could find. Their bustling noise drowned out to mere background noise as you stayed, keeping an eye out for that cheerful man of yours all the way till the last ship parked beside the Harbor. 

It was empty. By the time the other families went home with their loved ones, you stood there alone, holding a single umbrella.

"Excuse me!"

No news or a forewarning. You had no idea what must have happened. Regardless, you wanted to try again.

Running across the pavement, you tried to catch up with the sailor keeping watch of the seas, "I want to ask if you've seen a tall man with orange hair leave just now?"

He takes out the cigarette chewed between his teeth and takes his time to answer, "Ah you're the person from yesterday," the sailor comments, "Sorry kiddo, but the merchant shipments will be the only ones dropping by this hour."

Your stomach makes an uncomfortable churn as your heart denies what must be accepted, "Ah, I guess that makes sense."

There was no point in being optimistic about it anymore. The seldom appearance of letters, the disappointment evident on his face when you didn't tell him what he wanted to hear, the chilliness of the rain when it hits your skin, hand trembling by the obvious cold. Everything was so much clearer.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you quickly added while wiping your eyes, unable to contain your sadness, "I'm just missing someone. That's all."

The sailor spares you a look of pity, assuming what story it went on with the clues you gave him. He mutters words of consolation but it felt deaf to your ears.

Why couldn't you just say it? Why did you have to be such a coward in the end when all he was trying to do was making this relationship work? Biting your lip, you kept your eyes casted down to not be blinded by the sun, otherwise you might actually cry. You should've known better to not hold back. And now, he's gone forever.

"Hey."

• Childe watches you turn over your shoulder, hesitant as ever and time seems to have halted in the small pocket of this instance.

• Damn.

• You were as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Though of course nothing about your appearance changed at all. Only his feelings, they grew and more apparent during the days he wasn't by your side.

• Yeah, I'm way over the crush phase, aren't I? He could only imagine what kind of expression he was making.

Tension fills the gap between the two of you as neither made an initiative to close it. Childe examines you, unreadable and without his default grin. Your eyes blown wide under the deep furrow of your eyebrows, mouth turned downward.

Welp he deserved the silent treatment. What nerve does the guy have when he shows up to his lover empty handed and a day behind his promised schedule? Minus all the Fatui fiasco he had to deal back in Snezhnaya and no explanation whatsoever.

"So uuuhhh," Childe glances at you tentatively. Ah shit they're mad probably. He was unsure how te begin. It was almost as if you were strangers and that pained him a little, "So how have you been?"

Slap. He mentally facepalms. That was so stupid.

Well fix it you idiot! A million suggestions run simultaneously that reduces his brain into a pile of mush. He had it all planned out earlier, the flowers, the dinner, the play to sweap you off your feet and make you fall for him again. Seems that his reliable swagger had betrayed him entirely. No fancy entrance. No funny remarks to distract the awkwardness. Right now he was just Childe the lovesick man.

"Look, I know I haven't replied to you," Childe rubs the back of his neck and avoids eye contact, "And I understand if you're pissed about it. We went through a lot back in Snezhnaya which is why don't have any ingredients I promised," he pinches the bridge of his nose, "Ah, I guess I should probably apologize for that too."

This isn't going well. He knew he was trying way too hard to play it cool and most likely makes him look as if here were creating excuses. Screw it, just go straight for the heart, "What I'm trying to say is-"

You threw yourself around him in an instant and buried your face in his chest. Childe nearly stumbles backward, completely off guard for once. He can instinctively expect and attack but not this kind of attack.

Almost gave him a heart attack.

"[Name]...?" He finally whispers out, his sleeve covered arms crawling to return your embrace. The man was trying to feel, to make sure if this was real. Did you just...hug him?

"Ajax."

Then it occured to him that your voice was breaking. The tightening of your hold and the point of your nose against him, he could sense the faint quivering of your shoulders. Childe surrenders all intentions to fulfill his previous agenda as the matters in front of him were much more important.

"Hey, what's on your mind?" he gently hushes, cradling your head with one hand and the other on your back, "I'm listening."

Yes, that's what you needed right now and he'll gladly give it to you, as much as you want. If you allow him that is. Childe knows he can be a bit selfish sometimes and maybe he's jumping to conclusions, but holding you like this is a moment he wants to indulge in. Just cherishing you like he should have.

"I just..." you began, breathly, "love you so much, Ajax. I love you..."

Damn.

Childe is sure he just felt what it's like to float on cloud nine. As cheesy as it sounded. He's somewhat glad your face is buried in his coat right now so you wouldn't be able to witness the goofy smile he's shamelessly wearing. Looks like he had nothing to worry about. Man, did it feel good to know you felt the same way all this time.

He releases you, though not enough to be fully apart because why would he? Your nose was tinged with red and eyes watery, the man swore his heart must have been hit with a pyro reaction. What a cutie pie.

"I've got you, don't worry," he reassures while cupping your face. He leans down to peck the corner of your lips before properly placing a chaste one. The action was so sudden that you weren't mentally prepared for it. He laughs, the same boyish charming manner, "Sorry, couldn't help it. You're too irresistable."

"Y-You're," shades of crimson layers across your cheeks that he's glad he has the privilege for a closeup, "Irresistable..."

Hooooooolddd up.

Childe pulls to a mental stop for a double take. Was that a compliment just now? No, it was a confession. He wasn't used to being praised like this. You may not be the type to vocally speak your true feelings but you were also the type to wear them on your sleeves. A smug smile makes it's way to his face and he tilts his body ever so slightly so you were dipped backwards in a mid-tango pose.

Childe's mouth was mere inches away from yours as he drinks up the image of your vulnerable look, underneath him and no one else to intrude.

"Ajax?!" You stuttered.

"I don't think I heard you clearly. Mind saying that again?" Yes he was being indulgent right now but the opportunity was hard to come by. Also those two months made it so agonizing to bear he needs a remedy to soothe all that drama.

You're pouting now and Childe tips down to kiss you on the cheek, "Don't tease me. Not here in public," you whisper-yelled well trying to push him away similar to a smothering puppy.

"Oh? Now you're going to reject me? I thought you said I was irresistable?" Childe's words muffles against your skin and the vibration spreads across like wildfire.

"Ajax!"

"Fine, fine," he chuckles heartedly, not letting you go. Instead, he repositions his arm until it was swung around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side, "By the way I wanted to say that I shouldn't have left you hanging. The mission got real messy last minute and I didn't wanna half-ass a letter to you."

You shook your head, "It's not your fault. I know you were busy. Just that..." you breathed out, somewhat relieved and anxious at the same time, "I thought you were angry that I wasn't being honest with you. I was afraid for some reason. But now, it's a lot easier than I thought."

"Huh? What do you mean?" He asks.

"I thought you left me for someone else."

A moment where his brain short circuits and Childe lets out a howling laugh. You looked at him with awe. What was so funny all of a sudden?

"Gotta say that I'm being tossed left and right with these surprises," he mused, "Guess that even if we're apart, we're still that close, eh?"

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean?"

Childe slides his hand up your shoulder bone to pinch your cheek, "Nothing, sweetness."

• You chased after him demanding for answers but Childe doesn't budge. The only thing you could tell that he was in an extremely good mood after that.

• Oh well, all is well, ends well does it?

"Since I don't have anything to cook the Borsche I mentioned to you before, we'll have to settle for something else I'm afraid," Childe shrugs, "Anything in mind you wanna do?"

You sighed, fondly at least, "I already said I don't mind as long as you're cooking."

"S'that so? Well then," Childe moves renewed with energy, extending his hold in a beckoning manner and you laughed at his antics, "Shall we go, my snowflake?"

You take it and squeezed it, "I'd love to."

[kimoralov3]

dating chad meeks martin

a/n: this is completely self indulgent. i have literally been driving myself crazy the past 10 days thinking about this man. so if you don't agree with some of this, that's cool. but keep it to yourself mkay 😁

warnings: cursing, the slightest of scream vi spoilers, there are no pronouns used for reader

this man right here

you would think that he would be just your stereotypical jock when it comes to courting right???

well as proven in scream vi, you'd be fucking wrong

this man is literally so sweet it makes your teeth rot

for example

not long after the two of you met (y'all have english together or some shit) he knew he had a crush on you

so obviously he's gonna come up with an excuse to hang out with you because the two of you have barely even had a real conversation

and luckily for him, y'all's teacher assigned some partnered project

and before anyone could even ATTEMPT to ask you to be their partner chad was right beside you

and that's how it all began

even after the two of you were done with the project (you got an a), chad was still finding excuses to hang out with you

he noticed that you missed out on a class for some reason?? he took publication-worthy notes so he could stop by your dorm and give them to you

and then would proceed to stay over so he could go into further detail about the things you might still be confused on

there's a really big test coming up?? he'll meet you every day leading up to the test at 3:30 to help you study

doesn't even matter if he has the class or not, he just enjoys being around you

mindy definitely bullies him about taking too long to make an actual move

and as much as he would hate to admit it, she has a point

so one day after school, he stops by your favorite cafe and gets you your favorite drink and pastry because if he chickens out, at least he has an excuse as to why he was there

you were in your usual spot at the library, reading up on some material from the beginning of the semester

chad sits across from you and the two of you just kinda chill for like 30 minutes

chad takes that time to really plan out what he was going to say, cuz he'd be damned if he fucked up his shot

he goes on this like ramble about how he was interested in you from the moment he laid eyes on you, and how he'd make up stupid excuses to come see you

y'know cute shit like that

he'd end his little speech by flat-out saying the words i like you, but he'd also say that he understands if you need some time to think about his words

turns out that he didn't have to worry about that tho because you literally jumped across the table and kissed him

best way to say yes ever

anyways y'all were officially together after that and he could not be happier

some people might think that he'd stop all the sweet shit he was doing before, but no

in fact he does it even more now, saying that he wanted to cause you happiness as much as possible

you'd spend a lot of time in his dorm, cuddled up and watching movies and things

he'd also insist that you'd wear his hoodies and his letterman jacket, because "you just look so cute in them"

he'd make a point of the two of you going out on a date at least twice a month because again, he loves spoiling you

also he is definitely the protective boyfriend type

but not in like an icky toxic way

he'd step in at a party if he noticed that someone was making you uncomfortable

and it'd only get physical if the person refused to back off

like when he was about to fight that guy that was tryna sleep with tara? yeah he'd 100% do that for you without a moment's hesitation

one of his favorite things to say is that he's lucky to of found you

all in all he's literally the best fucking boyfriend ever and the two of you will never let each other go

[nyx22-blogs]

Imagine Watching a Horror Movie With Riley Poole

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent 😂

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"Riley! Please, c'mon it's not that bad." You whined while sitting on the couch.

You were trying to convince your boyfriend to watch a horror movie with you, specifically 'The Conjuring'.

"Y/n, baby no. The last time you went out with Abigail to watch a horror movie you couldn't sleep properly for a week. Also horror movies are stupid and I don't wanna watch it."

You knew that Riley actually didn't find horror movies stupid, he was just as scared of them as you were- well no he could handle them a bit better then you. Which was really saying something considering his whole encounter with the skeleton.

You were the one to get nightmares after watching the movie, he was more of the get scared while watching it and then forget about it afterwards kind of guy.

"This one isn't stupid at all I promise, it's literally considered one of the BEST horror movies ever!"

"Nope, there's nothing you can do to convince me to watch it." He said as he walked over to where you were and sat on the couch.

"Nothing at all?" You said with a smirk on your face.

"Nope, nothing at a- what w-what are you doing?" He said, very flustered.

"Nothing at all." You said as you climbed on top of him and straddled his lap.

"Y/n- c'mon you're not actually gonna do it."

"Won't I?" You said grinning like the Cheshire Cat. You furthered your actions and gently pushed him down so he was laying on the couch. You dipped down and started to kiss down his neck, pulling away everytime he tried to initiate something.

"Y/n...please c'mon.." He said, desperate for you to do something.

"Uh uh, watch the movie with me and maybe we'll see where this goes. Mkay?" You said giving him a nice kiss on the lips and pulling him up with you.

"Fine, you're evil y'know that?" He said loudly as he walked to the kitchen to get some snacks for you guys.

"Yup! I know!" You said going to your bedroom to get a blanket for you two.

10 minutes later

"Oh my god!" You yelled and hid into your boyfriend's chest.

"I- y/n? It's not that bad c'mon. It's not even that- OH GOD!" He yelled and looked away for a second.

"SEE! Her face is so CREEPY!"

He snorted at your comment.

"Really? She kind of reminds me of you. Y'know temper and all." He said and laughed when you hit him on the chest.

"Shut up! Jerk.."

You looked back up and endured the rest of the movie. It was a great movie, you were sure you had a heart attack at least once but it was still worth it.

Riley got scared of the movie a couple of other times but after it was done he was completely fine.

Oh and by the way, you didn't sleep properly for two weeks.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Bonus:

"Riley?" You whispered in your bed.

"Hmm?" He groaned sleepily.

"I heard something." You said, scared.

He rolled over and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible. He pulled the blanket over the both of you until it covered your shoulders.

"It's ok y/n, nothing's there. And if something is there they'll have to grab me first, mkay?"

"Ok.. I love you baby."

"Hmm, love you too sweetheart. Sleep." He kissed your neck a couple of times and you both fell asleep.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Bonus again!

Warning: cute fluffy images are below!

IM SORRY I HAD TO DO IT, LMK IF U GOT SCARED LOL-

@sierraaf11

@captainannamerica

@where-dreamers-go

@ashlaieblobfish

@executethyself35

@aceaoki1316

@why-must-i-be-like-this

@beetears

@donut-rambles

@naturalswifty89

@riley-poole27

@ash-theart-witch

[slash-em-up]

I Was (Not) Born To Be A Cowboy Pt. 2

Last Time:

‘Thank FUCK you’re both here! These ranch-hand bastards are trying to kill me!’

Asa sighed deeply.

“Hello Jesse...”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

You chortled at Jesse’s miserable look. You couldn’t help it.

“Weeelll howdy, partner! Golly, if you ain’t the cutest rootin’est tootin’est lil cow-poke I ever did see!”

Jesse glared at you then looked pleadingly at Asa.

‘Make them stop.’

Asa huffed and moved past you into the bunk house.

“...Oh, to have that power...”

You moved to follow, and judging by the look Jesse was throwing you, if there was a snowbank nearby you’d be tossed in head-first with no hope of rescue.

Thank heaven for little miracles.

Entering the cabin, you couldn’t help the small whimper that left your lips at the shabby conditions. 

You’d stayed in a very similar place during camp one awful summer; but that had been summer. This was a frigid Montana winter, and from the looks of it the only source of heat was a wood-burning fireplace which was giving off the world's most pitiful excuse for a glow.

“Really, Jesse?”  

You moved quickly to save the fire, re-arranging the logs so they didn’t smother the flame, and adding a few pieces of kindling.

Immediately the cabin brightened, and you smiled.

The aggressive unzipping of a duffle-bag brought your attention back to your partners. One of whom was trying his hardest to loom over poor Brody as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Uh... Hey there Mr. Jesse...”

A stony glare answered him.

“You - uh – you look like you’re all recovered from your tumble this mornin’...”

Now he had Asa and your attention.

“No need to worry... everyone falls off their horse at least once... or four times...”

You were pretty sure you heard Asa mumble an annoyed “Jesus Christ, Jesse...” under his breath before carefully refolding his sweaters and placing them in the bedside cubby.

Under Jesse’s baleful gaze, Brody seemed to determine that it was time to beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, I’ll let you folks get settled!” he gave you a friendly nod and Asa an intimidated “Sir..” before turning to leave the bunkhouse.

“Breakfast’s at four!”

Jesse rubbed at his eye in a beleagured motion as you jumped up from your seat.

“Four?! WAIT... Brody, FOUR AM?!?”

But Brody was gone.

A large arm curled around your shoulders and Jesse gave you a sympathetic squeeze.

‘Welcome to Hell.’

*************************************

These bunks were not made to hold more that one person at a time.

You determined that Mr. Ephriam had to be homophobic. You could almost read the sign ‘No Brokeback Mountain-ing On My Good Cattle Ranch’ and it was about to make you cry.  

You were so cold.

And Asa had the audacity to be sleeping like a baby, that bastard.

Jesse looked like he was wearing at least five pairs of socks, because beyond not being anywhere big enough to fit more than one person, the bunks were also clearly not built to hold anyone taller than 6’.

Even Asa was a little smooshed; but somehow he was making due.  

Jesse, on the other hand, could almost plant his feet on the floor if he laid flat and he looked miserable.

“Jesse...” you hissed.

The veritable mountain of blankets covering the bunk to your right shifted, allowing a blurry brown eye to peer out questioningly at you.

“Bring your blankets over by the fireplace, I have an idea.”

Jesse seemed to intuit what you were thinking because he speedily shuffled himself and his pile of coverings in front of the fire, laying several down as a barrier between your bodies and the cold wood floor.

You did a shimmy of happiness as you laid down next to Jesse’s reclining body, already feeling the heat from the fire and the large form of your partner saturate your chilled skin.

Sighing in joy, you let Jesse pull you in tightly so he was spooning you, nearly covering you with his own body in his quest for heat.

His chest rose and fell with a deep exhalation as you both settled into a comfortable position for the first time that night.  

You were so cozy that the pair of you only barely shifted when, a few minutes later, you heard soft grumbles and movement from the other bunk as Asa rolled to his feet and walked over to join you.

The heat of the two large men caging you in had you nearly purring in delight, and the atmosphere had lightened considerably – enough that moments later Asa jolted up and punched Jesse roughly in the shoulder.

“Hands off my ass.”

Jesse’s chest shook with laughter, and you couldn’t contain your tired giggles if you tried.

A hand rose from it’s resting place on your waist to make a dismissive gesture at Asa before spelling out ‘Thanks you two.’

You turned slightly to press a kiss to Jesse’s scarred chin.

“Anytime.”

Asa grunted in acknowledegement before telling you both in no uncertain terms that you had less than three hours before breakfast and he wanted to sleep – so quiet down.

********************

The loud clanging of a bell woke you from what had turned into a rather pleasant slumber.

“Nooooooo...” you groaned, burying your face into Jesse’s chest.

Asa was already up and sorting through his luggage, looking for his glasses as you and Jesse slowly untangled yourselves from your blanket nest and stumbled over to your own bunks.

“What does one wear to a proper chuck wagon breakfast?” you asked jokingly.

Asa smirked but Jesse was less than amused.

‘I think a gunny sack and fur cap would make you fit in perfectly.’

Apparently, Jesse was not at all impressed with the ranch’s dress code.

You played along.

“Aww and here I left my coonskin cap at home...”

The door to the bunk clattered, allowing Spann to enter.

“I have an extra if you want to make an impression...”

“Hey Spann. Love the flannel.”

It seems that Brody handn’t been exagerrating when he said Spann was settling in to the routine of the ranch. You couldn’t recall ever seeing her dressed so casually; and had NEVER seen her without a full face of makeup and jewelry.

Clearly, she was nothing if not adaptable.

“I see you’re making the best of ranch life.”

She gave you a small grin.

“My mom’s family owned a dairy farm. I was pretty handy with a pitchfork before I moved to Florida.”

“Haha, and I guess it’s just like riding a bike?”

“Something like that.”

Jesse interrupted your joking around with a curt ‘cute’ before huffing past the two of you out onto the porch.

You raised an eyebrow at Spann before following her out the door.

Oh, well that explained why Jesse was in such a mood already...

Two horses waited by a hitching post for their riders to join them.

It was pretty easy to tell who’s was who’s. 

Spann’s horse was a beautiful little red thoroughbred – already saddled and waiting for the petite woman to mount and take off towards the mess hall.

Jesse’s was... sized appropriately... you guessed.  

The huge draft horse stood untacked, and you could swear it was glaring as Jesse approached it slowly.

Asa joined Spann and you in leaning against the railing, watching the battle about to commence.

“Her name is Sugar...” Spann muttered to the two of you.

“Mr. Cromean’s has fallen off at least twice every day we’ve been here, and he still can’t get his saddle on tight enough...”

You could hear Jesse making clucking noises with his tongue at the huge animal – but you were sure he was simply cussing Sugar out internally.

He’d pulled a large Western-style saddle off the porch railing before approaching the horse, and you watched with amused disbelief as your boyfriend proceeded to charge at Sugar – saddle up – who quickly danced out of reach.  

This chase continued for several minuted before Asa shifted away with a snort of disgust, pushing his glasses up his nose before stepping to intercept Jesse as he tore after the prancing horse once more.

“Give that to me, idiot. We’ll be here all day if we wait for you.”

You had to admit, you were a little turned on watching as Asa swiftly took the saddle out of Jesse’s limp grasp before confidently walking over to settle the blanket and leather tack comfortably on Sugar’s back; pressing his thumb lightly into the horse’s flank as he tightened the girth with swift and sure movements.

One final check, and he’d gripped the reigns and mounted.

Jesse’s back was to you; but you could just imagine the mixture of awe and embarrassed anger that was probably plain as day on the tall man’s face.

Asa rolled his eyes, giving a click of his heels into Sugars sides and trotting over to where you stood.

“Ready to go?”

You couldn’t hold back your stupid grin as you nodded quickly, grasping Asa’s offered arm and holding tightly as he swung you from the porch to sit in front of him on the saddle.

“Hold the pommel and grip with your thighs...” he murmurred into your ear.

“Well you know I’m good at that.” you teased.

“Cheeky...”  

Asa’s eyes sparkled with a hidden grin as he moved the large horse towards the mess.

“Coming, Spann?”

You nearly let out a hoot of laughter at the sound of boots rushing over to catch the two of you.

Jesse skidded in the muddy ground and jerked back as Sugar moved her head to nip at him.

‘Hey, you stole my horse!’

Asa snorted.

“It didn’t look like you were using it.”

‘It’s a quarter mile to the mess hall do you expect me to walk?!’

“I suppose you could round up a posse and arrest me for horse-thieving; but I think breakfast will be over by then...”

Jesse looked like he was about to start stomping his feet in anger.

‘I hate how much you’re enjoying this.’

You giggled as one of Asa’s arms wrapped itself around your waist and he motioned Sugar into a quick canter, Spann and her red mare following close behind.

“Better run, Jesse!”

[celosiaa]

mkay so i’ve been sitting on this one for a while and I’ve decided that i’ll never finish it completely so here’s a REALLY messy and self-indulgent sketch from my fic ill for the holidays

sometimes you have to make the art you want to see in the world lmao

[yeenybeanies]

A Little Tipsy

i was semi-productive, so i’m rewarding myself with self-indulgent nonsense. shoutout to the anons that suggested drunk!devin. not a whole lot of shenanigans, but it's still nice :>

arthur morgan & devin clarke ( oc )

1436 words

language & alcohol warnings

reblogs > likes!! feel free to leave comments in the tags!! 

Borrowing is tough. Being a borrower and having to borrow is tough. Borrowers, of course, know this, and anyone lucky enough to know a borrower knows this. Being only a few inches tall comes with a countless many risks. Danger is everywhere; nearly everything is a threat.

Naturally, bearing all of that in mind, it would be completely asinine for a borrower to partake in certain human pleasures, such as gin or whiskey or ( the debatable pleasure ) moonshine. With intoxication comes lowered alertness and reaction time and coordination––all of which can be fatal to a wandering borrower. While it’s not typically a spoken rule that borrowers shouldn’t get drunk, that they should avoid the liquors and beers and wines humans so enjoy, it’s common sense.

And it is common sense. Devin has that common sense. They understand the logic. They really do.

But goddamn, everyone has moments of weakness. Even the most sensible of borrowers break sometimes. Well––Devin wouldn’t say they’ve broken; they’d say they’ve just . . . cracked a little. Temporarily. They’d say they deserve this little pleasure, even if it tastes awful. What’s a couple of drops from a toppled bottle of moonshine going to do? Who’s going to miss it?

Hindsight is sure to have a few words with Devin later, but, right now, they can’t stop giggling. It’s loud, too––loud enough for Arthur to hear them from under the wagon next to his bed. The gunslinger sits up, brows furrowed, and peeks through the wheel spokes. He knows the voice, of course, but he’s never heard them so . . . bubbly.

“ Devin . . .? ”  Worry pricks his mind as he scans for the borrower. This is highly unusual behavior; Devin is not the kind to be noisy––especially not in the camp!  “ Devin, what’re you doin’? Where’re you at? ” 

“ ‘m over here, ”  comes the tiny voice. Devin steps out from behind a crate, wobbly, still giggling. They grin up at him, and Arthur’s finds himself a little taken aback. He’s seen this plenty of times before in many a man and woman, in himself, but never in Devin.

The borrower’s drunk. They’re either drunk, or under some other form of intoxication. Arthur closes his journal with his pencil holding place for the drawing he’d been working on, and leans over, arm and hand through the spokes toward his friend. They lift one tiny boot, looking almost like they intend to step towards him, but their balance isn’t what it normally is, and they fall backwards, just out of Arthur’s reach. He curses a little under his breath and tries to push his shoulder more through the gap.

“ C’mon now, Devin. Work with me here. ”  He tightens his jaw, face pressed against the wheel, but he can only manage to graze one of Devin’s boots with his middle finger. A few seconds more of scrabbling, and Arthur’s ready to try this from a different angle when he feels a pair of tiny hands hook onto the tip of his finger. That finger quickly flexes, pulling Devin up and close enough for his hand to gently wrap around them. Ever careful, Arthur lifts them from the ground and brings them to eye level. They’re still giggling. His heart aches with how sweet a sound it is.

“ Now just what did you get into? ”  Fingers loosen a little with the borrower’s squirming, just enough for them to get their arms free, but not enough for them to wriggle out of his hold.

“ Arthur! ”  They yell, and Arthur flinches, eyes wide. Devin stretches their arms out towards his face, their hands beckoning him.  “ Come here. ”

“ I’m right here, Miss Dev––– ”

“ Closer, damn you! ”  They beckon again, and Arthur is at a loss. He hesitates for a moment, then slowly brings the little being nearer to his face––close enough for him to catch a whiff of the alcohol on them.

“ Christ, Miss Devin, what’d you get into? Is that whiskey? ”  Nose tipped up just a little, Arthur gives the borrower a sniff. They take an opportunity in the same moment, though, to freeze him right in his tracks. First they rest a hand on his lower lip, feeling across the ridged, sensitive skin; then they press their own lips to his upper lip. Arthur’s breath catches. He dares not move.

It’s got to be moonshine.

“ Mkay. ”  They pat his chin after a few seconds, and he pulls them away from his face, looking more surprised and bewildered than ever. Oh, and he’s blushing. Of course, Devin is a little flushed in the face themself. They can’t suppress their giggles.  “ Sorry, I––I dunno. First time I’ve, um, done anything like that. First time I’ve had moonshine too. ”

There it is. Moonshine.

Arthur’s fingers uncurl, and he brings his other hand up to cup securely under Devin. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards, despite his lingering fluster. He can’t smile, though! It quickly comes back to him that Devin is drunk.  “ Miss Devin, I seem to recall you explicitly sayin’ that it’d be detrimental to your well-bein’ if you were to lose yourself like this. ”  It’s not as harsh a scolding as perhaps he ought to give; it’s awfully hard to reprimand them when they’re so damn . . . cute. ( And they’re always cute, damn them. )

“ Don’t be mean to me, Arthur! ”  God! Bless their heart. Arthur tightens his lips and sighs through his nose.  “ I’ve . . . had a rough week. And I didn’t know it’d hit so fast. ”  The giggles die down with Devin looking away, now quite somber in expression. So quick is the change that it almost gives Arthur whiplash.

“ Hey now . . .. Stuff’s bound to hit fast when ya weigh about as much as a ball a’ cotton. ”  The gunslinger shifts his position, back now leaning against the wagon while he rests his hands on his stomach.  “ Wanna tell me what’s got you so worked up to drinkin’? ” 

“ Not really. I’m just . . .. ”  They trail off and wipe their eyes. For a moment, Arthur thinks he can see a minuscule tear being brushed away, but he can’t be sure. There’s nothing of the sort when Devin looks back up at him, giving him a reassuring smile.  “ I’ll be okay. Always am. Just had to . . . loosen up a bit. ” 

Mission accomplished.

A thumb lightly brushes the borrower’s shoulder. They respond in kind with their hand to the pad, fingers rubbing over the rough whorls. Arthur doesn’t care much for the answer he got, but he isn’t going to push. If Devin wants to tell him, they will when they’re ready. In the meantime, since they’re with him now, they can safely enjoy their buzz.

“ Were you drawing? ”

“ Hm? ”  Arthur glances down at the set-aside journal, page still kept with his pencil.  “ Yeah. Writin’ down some thoughts, sketchin’ some things . . .. ”  And again his cheeks warm.

“ Can I see? ” 

Warmer still. Arthur clears his throat. With the hand not supporting Devin, he takes the journal and flips it open to the saved page, holding it to where they can see. It’s a little embarrassing to him. Their silence isn’t helping much either. There are a few scribbles across the span, among them a detailed sketch of Devin themself. Arthur’s drawn them smiling, relaxed and sitting on the edge of something with one leg hanging down. It’s really a nice drawing.

“ That’s . . . me? ”  They blink, turning back around to look up at Arthur.

“ Yep . . . yeah. ”  He can’t bring himself to meet their eyes. It’s not uncommon for Arthur to draw people in camp, or people he meets, but Devin isn’t some normal person. The time they spend together feels special, intimate. Arthur hadn’t ever asked if it would be okay for him to draw them. Someone else might see his journal and see those drawings ( not that he couldn’t just say he had a bit of imaginative inspiration ). He’s about to backpedal, maybe offer to tear out any drawings of them, but they interrupt him before he can speak again.

“ Do you have any more? ”  Ah, they’re . . . blushing again. It seems they both have an uncanny ability to make each other red in the face. Arthur can’t help but smile as his fingers curl around them just a little bit more. They might be drunk, and that might be unwise, unsafe; it might warrant a scolding later on, once they’ve sobered up ( if the subsequent hangover isn’t going to be punishment enough ), but at least they’re here with him, where he can protect and watch over them. Damn. They sure wormed their way right into Arthur’s heart, softening the stone-cold gunslinger right up.

“ Sure I do. Here, I’ll let’cha see. ”

[liberty-barnes]

Writing Update

mkay so i know i haven't been writing much lately

mainly cuz i'm on vacation woohoo

and also cuz i can't write

(also pardon any typos or anything in this, i'm sick and i can't see well)

so anyway

i got a bunch of ideas and concepts and stuff, just need to like, figure out a way to turn them into actual stuff

but just so you know here's what we're working with as of now

a 1D fic that i started yesterday (platonic) angst

a completely self indulgent TJS blurb fluff

a harrison x reader fic that will be angsty but i still haven't decided on the ending

fluffy boyfriend!liam payne fic

angsty angel!reader x peter fic (also haven't decided on the ending)

soulmate mob!tom x reader au (that will either be angst+fluff or fluff/will make you laugh like hell)

actress!reader x tom (fluff and laughing a lot)

and if i ever figure out what exactly to do with it, a harry styles x reader fic (it's got flowers and bandana harry and also the shirts that are half undone and just..........uuuggggh oh and haz speaking french)

so yeah that's that

as soon as i'm no longer sick, emotional, and whiny i will get to it...hopefully

but anyway, love you all, thank you for your patience, byeeee🤍🤍

[salamoonder]

Dark Side |  [ch. 1]

Patton is hunger.

He’s self aware; he knows what he looks like from the outside. Knows that everyone thinks of him as the sweet one, the innocent dreamer. No one can see how empty he feels inside, how he’d do anything to get rid of the nagging, clawing feeling that he isn’t and never will be enough.

Logan is helpless.

What’s the point of having an above genius level IQ and a scholarship that’ll more than take care of him for the next four years if he can’t protect his family? Time has always been comforting to him, assuring him that ever second will be the same exact length, dividing the universe into neat, even fragments. Now it’s turned against him and he can’t do a thing to stop it from running out.

Roman isn’t real.

Yes, he’s consistently cast in every lead role he applies himself to, yes, they all say he’s brilliant and daring and larger than life. But does any of it mean anything? Does anybody actually care about the person behind the persona? Is there even a person left?

And Virgil? Well, Virgil’s a complete mess.

Plagued with anxiety and panic attacks since before he can remember, the very last thing he wants to do is leave his boring but safe hometown to go to university. But he’s been following Patton around all his life and he’s not about to stop now.

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Panic attack, nausea

A/N: Welcome to my Sanders sides College AU!!This fic gets pretty dark so I would advise you to proceed with caution and always check the warnings. In other news AHHHH I’M 50K INTO THIS AND IT IS OFFICIALLY THE LONGEST PIECE OF WRITING THAT I HAVE EVER POSTED PUBLICLY even if the other 47k isn’t available yet (rip). I’ll release the playlist as soon as I’m done with it.

|| Read it on AO3 ||

“Virgil, breathe.”

“Can’t,” Virgil pants, and grips the edge of the counter till his knuckles go white. The sky is so bright it’s hurting his eyes, so he closes his eyes and shrinks further into the snack booth.

He’s vaguely aware of Patton coming around and unlocking the door. He wants to tell him to get back on the stand and keep lifeguarding, because he’s not worth this, not worth Patton getting written up, but he knows Patton won’t listen. Even if it means risking his job.

A second later Patton lays a hand on his shoulder, but he flinches away. “Don’t touch me. I just. Just need.”

He takes his hands off the counter and curls them into fists.

“I’m sorry, Virge. Please breathe?”

“It’s not-” Virgil makes a huge effort to take a breath, in through his mouth, and suddenly he’s hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey, easy. Look at me.”

Virgil shakes his head to clear it, tries to focus on Patton.

“Breathe in-Virgil, just try-”

“Trying.”

Virgil sits down heavily on the concrete floor in the corner of the snack booth, fixes his eyes on the ceiling, and breathes in. His throat stutters over the air and he resists the urge to just continue hyperventilating. Patton’s sitting down too, ignoring the stool in front of the counter in favor of sitting on the damp concrete with Virgil.

It takes him a couple of minutes, but he’s able to breathe without getting dizzy again. As soon as he’s able to speak, he says, “Patton, you’re gonna get fired.”

Patton shrugs. “No one’s come in in the past half hour. It’s not like Sam cares. And Felicity’s out there keeping an eye on things.”

“Or sleeping,” Virgil mumbles.

Patton swats his arm gently. “Hush, you. She’s covering for me, isn’t she?”

Virgil shrugs. He’s always gotten the feeling that Felicity doesn’t like him very much. Then again he’s never gotten the feeling that anybody particularly liked him, so Felicity’s pretty much the norm.

Patton stands and offers him a hand up, but Virgil’s still feeling a bit weird about touch and so he gets up himself, glancing guiltily at Patton’s hand. But Patton drops the hand, looking thoroughly unbothered. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“But we’ve still got-”

“Half an hour. Last day, Virge, Felicity doesn’t care.”

“You already asked her?”

“No, but I covered for her last week, she owes me.”

“You think she can run things by herself?”

“Do I think she can watch an empty pool for half an hour? Absolutely.”

Virgil lets out a half laugh and Patton’s face splits into a grin. “There we go. Feeling better kiddo?”

“I’m...three months older than you.”

“Even so.”

“Ugh.”

“Well, are you?”

“A little,” Virgil admits as he follows Patton outside. His hands have stopped shaking, anyway. But it’s been getting worse lately, and he’s worried he’s just going to keep going downhill.

“You wanna talk about what set it off?”

Virgil scrubs a hand over his face, and instead of answering fishes the keys out of his pocket and yells across the pool. “Hey, Felicity!”

Her head jerks up and she catches the keys after he flings them across the deep end. “Virgil!” she complains. “I could’ve dropped those in the water!”

“Do you think you could keep an eye on things for us?” Patton asks, tone coaxing and sweet.

Felicity’s arms uncross from her chest and her demeanor immediately brightens. Everyone likes Patton. “Sure, is something wrong? Do you need help?”

“Nothing really,” Patton tells her. “It’d just be a really nice favor to me. Thanks, Felicity.”

“Of course.” She tucks the keys into her pocket and goes back to staring listlessly at her reflection.

Patton nudges into Virgil’s shoulder as he’s sliding into his flip flops at the gate, nearly causing him to overbalance and fall. “You don’t have to tell me, but I think it might help.”

“Uh. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Virgil hunches his shoulders. “Can I drive?”

“If you’re asking because it’ll give you something constructive to focus on and take your mind off stuff, then yes. If it’s because you’re feeling reckless, then absolutely not.” Patton puts one hand on his hip and Virgil has the sudden urge to laugh at his sternness even though there’s not really anything funny about the situation.

“I’m fine, Dad, it’ll help me calm down.”

Patton chews his lip. “Alright, but we’re pulling over if it gets to be too much.”

“Patton, my house is literally like two minutes away. We could’ve walked.”

“Still.”

“You sound like me,” says Virgil, half smirking as he climbs into the driver’s side seat. “Stop worrying.”

Patton walks around, straps himself in, taps Virgil’s seatbelt. “And you sound like you’re trying to deflect.”

Virgil says nothing as they pull out, nothing as he turns onto the smooth main road of his neighborhood. They’re almost to his house before Patton says, “If you really don’t want to talk about it I’ll shut up.”

“No, it’s…” Virgil grips the wheel a little harder than necessary as they approach his house, anxiety spiking through him again. “Patton, um...I haven’t started packing yet.”

“What?” Patton screeches, and Virgil winces. They’re in his driveway now, but neither of them makes a move to get out of the car. “Sorry, sorry,” he says quickly. “But Virgil...what the heck? Are you okay?”

Virgil shrugs and buries his face in his hands. Both of his arms itch to do something, but the thought of everything he has to do before tomorrow morning at five am makes him want to lie down and never move again.

“Virge?” Patton’s unstrapped and is leaning over him, concerned. “Let’s get you inside, mkay? When was the last time you ate?’

“Not sure,” Virgil mumbles. He can feel himself falling back into panic and shoves his door open, gets out and begins to pace to stave it off.

“C’mon, Virge, stop that. It’s okay.” Patton takes his hand and leads him inside and Virgil’s skin itches again but he doesn’t want to let go of Patton, even if it’s uncomfortable.

Patton taps in the house code and they both slip off their flip flops at the door and walk inside. It’s almost too cold in the house; Virgil gasps as his feet hit the gleamingly white tile. The air conditioner’s made it like ice.

Virgil’s always been a little embarrassed of his house. The ceilings are indulgently high and the whole first floor is impeccable tile and ikea furniture. The kitchen is far too large for a family of three, especially one that usually doesn’t eat together and is more likely to order takeout than not. The staircase looks like an art installation, and his mother keeps the place clean enough that it doesn’t even look lived in.

Truthfully, it’s barely lived in. Virgil’s the only one in the house all the time, and he’s not sure he could call what he does living. The first time Patton slept over he couldn’t stop staring, reverently wandering the house and gazing at the abstract art that Virgil’s mother filled the house with, taking care not to touch anything, even at the age of twelve. Sometimes it felt like staying in a museum, Virgil the only living display. The rare Depresso anxietus.

“Virgil?” Patton squeezes his hand, trying to shake him out of his reverie. “Is there food in the house?”

“Uhh…” Virgil opens the fridge, eyes flickering over the overstocked shelves. “Yeah...yeah, there's food in the house.” He steps aside so Patton can see. “What should we make?”

“Sandwiches,” says Patton, already pulling out the bread. Virgil hops onto the counter to watch. He doesn't feel like making decisions, however small, so he's grateful to Patton for not making him think much. One question at a time. “Do you want pickles?” “Swiss or cheddar?” This or that, yes or no, low energy things. It would probably seem silly to somebody else but right now Virgil is sure that sandwich ingredients, handled indelicately, could probably send him into a spiral of panic.

They eat at the breakfast bar almost in deathly silence. Virgil can see Patton sneaking concerned looks at him but he doesn't volunteer up any information. He feels too guilty.

Tomorrow morning he and Patton are going to pack Virgil's car and make the three hour drive up to Riverpoint University. It should be exciting. What kid wasn't excited the day before move in? Virgil wants to kick himself. Patton is clearly looking forward to it. Riverpoint is Patton's entire dream. He’s going to go off and win a Nobel peace prize for environmental conservation and stage large scale protests and plant new rainforests in South America and photograph penguins in Antarctica. He'll be a reporter for National Geographic or a famous blogger or something, no matter how unlikely it looked. Patton is charismatic and determined and he’ll undoubtedly rise beyond any expectations set for him, Virgil has no doubt of that.

On the other hand, all Virgil wants to do with his future is not have one. He wants to curl up in the back of his closet and be left alone. All his interests are nowhere near as passionate or as deep as Patton's. You can't make a career out of folding sad poetry into paper cranes. Well, maybe Patton could figure out a way to make that work. Patton could save the entire world if he wanted to, Virgil is sure of it.

He’s half smiling into his sandwich now. Maybe all he wants to do with his future is live vicariously through Patton.

That’s kind of the reason why he’s going to RU. He can’t fathom being apart from Patton for even a day. They’d grown up together, elementary through high school, and when they’d gotten older they’d started hanging out on the weekends, every weekend, and some days Patton felt like the only piece of life Virgil was holding onto. So naturally at the midpoint of junior year when nearly every class was interrupted by an office assistant sending someone or other to the counselor’s office to “discuss future careers and higher education”, Virgil panicked. It’s what he did best. What he still does best. Because of course while all Virgil wants is to have the world stand still around him, to sit up in his room and read and pretend that everything outside doesn’t exist, Patton has kept going. Kept moving. Patton wants to do something with his life.

When Patton applied for colleges, Virgil applied for colleges. He wrote cheery, over enthused entrance essays (he always was good at fiction), compared tuition costs (not that it mattered), scoured school websites for information. Patton’s top choice was Virgil’s top choice. Patton’s safety schools were Virgil’s safety schools. When Patton got his acceptance letter to Riverpoint, Virgil had pretended his hadn’t come yet, waited two days, and then pretended to be surprised when his showed up in the mailbox again, taped shut.

He doesn’t want Patton to know that the only reason he’s going to college is because he can’t stand the thought of being without Patton. It’s the most pathetic thing he’s ever done, and he’s starting to regret it.

Before it wasn’t fully real. It was just something he had to do. Get into the same college as Patton, stay with Patton. Right now the full implications of “college” are starting to cloud out the reality of “Patton”.

What was he thinking? He can’t do college! Much less college three hours away with parties and shared bathrooms and classes that are not with Patton and eating by himself and-

Patton’s reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Kiddo?” he says gently. “You okay?”

Something must’ve shown on his face.

“M’fine.” says Virgil, and forces himself to take a deep breath. He takes a bite of his sandwich for something to do and chews slowly.

“We should get started soon,” says Patton. “I don’t want you up too late.”

Virgil nods and stuffs the remainder of his sandwich in his mouth. He collects Patton’s plate, which is already empty-when did that happen?- and put both in the sink.

When they get up to Virgil’s room, he’s scared the sandwich might come right back up again. There are boxes and clothes everywhere, but nothing actually in the boxes. None of his books have been taken down from the shelves either. It actually just looks like Virgil’s normal messy room plus boxes, which is pretty much what it is. He’s been locking his room and telling his mom he’s packing while actually playing Fortnite for weeks now.

Patton must sense his panic, because he leads him over to the bed, makes him sit down, and tells him to close his eyes. Virgil does.

“Not looking at it isn’t going to make it go away,” Virgil mumbles. He can hear Patton shuffling around.

“I know,” says Patton. “Just cleaning things up a bit, kiddo. It’ll take no time to pack. You’ll be fine.”

A couple minutes go by, and Virgil says, “Uh,” and then stops. Patton doesn’t press him, and for once Virgil wishes he would give him a gentle push in the right direction.

But Patton doesn’t push. He waits, and he listens, and sometimes he makes Virgil feel like a wild animal in that he handles him very, very carefully- and like he might get bitten. “Patton?” he says carefully, on an exhale. Like the name got lost on his breath, and he’s not quite sure if he wants to say it.

“Mhm?” the response comes from somewhere over by the window, so Virgil turns his head in that direction.

“I’m...scared.”

“Of what?”

Virgil listens to Patton moving, shifting boxes and the soft thump of clothes.

“College,” says Virgil, and immediately feels stupid.

“Okay…?” says Patton, leaving the word open on the end, as though he’s waiting for Virgil to finish whatever he was saying. Virgil doesn’t want to finish whatever he was saying. “Can I open my eyes now?” he asks plaintively.

“In a minute,” says Patton. “Why are you scared of college?”

“I dunno…” says Virgil, trying not to immediately summon all of his fears just by touching the subject in his mind. He’s unsuccessful. “It’s- it’s not home.”

More shuffling. “I never got the impression that you particularly liked it here,” says Patton conversationally.

“No,” Virgil concedes. “But it’s. Home.” he says again, feeling unable to come up with anything more. “It’s...familiar,” he tries, and it fits. “I don’t like unfamiliar,” he says, finally putting his finger on it.

“Open your eyes,” says Patton, and he does. Patton’s sorted his clothes into two piles, apparently clean and dirty, and all the boxes are stacked inside of each other near the closet. His books are on the floor in neat, even towers.

“Oh,” says Virgil, and smiles. It’s symmetrical. Comforting. Patton smiles back at him. “More doable, hm?”

“Yeah,” says Virgil softly. “I still don’t see how we’re going to get all this done by tomorrow morning. And still sleep.”

“Easy, Virgil. One piece at a time.” He walks over to Virgil’s desk, opens his laptop, and pulls up Spotify. “Classical or modern?”

“Mm...modern.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Yours.” Virgil doesn’t feel like making any more choices today. He’s listened to all of Patton’s playlists hundreds of times anyway, and he likes all of them, even if they’re not his. Today’s not a My Chemical Romance kind of day though.

According to Patton, it seems to be an Owl City and Postal Service kind of day. That’s fine. It’s bouncy and light and thoroughly optimistic.

They sort through the clothes systematically; bring or leave for clean, fold, bring or leave for dirty, throw in a load of wash, lie on the bed and do nothing, dryer, fold. The books are harder; Patton’s trying to be gentle but he’s also trying to keep Virgil from bringing his entire library and Virgil would sooner leave one of his own limbs at home than leave a book, if he thinks he might need it.

“Is 1001 mushrooms and fungi really necessary, Virgil? Really? You don’t even go outside.”

“I do, sometimes,” Virgil says, around the dictionary sized book in his arms. He doesn’t. He just likes the idea of knowing what’s poisonous and what’s not. Of knowing what would sustain you if you got lost in the woods for any reason. In the end they leave it, but not without a considerable fight from Virgil.

After that he’s somewhat at a loss. What exactly do you need besides clothes and books? Tons of things, he’s sure, but Patton keeps telling him they’ll pack toiletries in the morning and if he’s really forgotten something crucial they can just buy something new at the campus store.

“Or in town,” he says. “It’s a really nice college town, Virgil, I can’t believe you got out of orientation. I can’t believe you wanted to.”

Virgil shrugs “They wouldn’t have let me stay with you, would they?”

“No, the rooms are randomly assigned. But, Virge, that’s a good thing! You get to meet new people! Get thrown right into the thick of things.”

Virgil shudders. Thick of things sounds like thicket. Maybe he’d prefer that. Being thrown into a jumble of thorns sounds better than meeting new people.

“Patton?”

“Mm?”

“Can you stay over tonight?”

Patton hesitates, and Virgil feels horrible. He has a family to go home to. This is their last night at home, both of them. Virgil’s family (if you could call it that) probably wouldn’t even notice if he was out at a club till four in the morning. They’d probably be relieved, actually, at their son actually being normal. Patton’s little siblings shriek and cling as soon as he’s walked through the door, like over excited dogs. Or like he’s Santa. They shriek and cling at Virgil too, who tries to pry them off as gently as possible while internally freaking out.

But he doesn’t want to be alone in this big house tonight, so big that you couldn’t tell anyone else was in it, even if his parents do come home. Even if they want you to know they’re there.

He’s being incredibly selfish, and he hates it, and he’s halfway to telling Patton to go home when he smiles and says, “Sure, Virge.”

They pull Virgil’s high end sleeping bags out of his closet and pop popcorn and watch Coraline on Virgil’s laptop. The tv downstairs is bigger, but Virgil’s feeling unusually attached to his room tonight. And there’s a higher concentration of Patton per square inch when they’re in a small space.

That sounds stupid, but Patton always uses math to make him feel better. More orderly. Patton can make it sound like all the numbers in the universe are falling together for him.

“What are the odds?” he’d ask. “What are the odds that in all of time and space, between all the planets and space dust and dinosaurs-”

“Space dust,” Virgil had snorted.

“Space dust,” Patton confirmed. “That you and I would be human? That we’d be born on the same planet, in the same country, in the same town, go to the same school? That we’d exist at the same time? What are the incredible odds?”

“What are the odds that you’d like me?” Virgil mumbled, and Patton had cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “How could I not like you, Virge? That’s the only sure statistic.”

Patton’s asleep now. Virgil’s laptop, which is balanced on his stomach, rises and falls every time he breathes. Virgil takes it carefully and pauses the movie, then gets up to turn off the lamp.

When he lies down on the sleeping bag again, Patton rolls over and rests his head against Virgil’s chest.

“Did I wake you up?” Virgil whispers.

“A little bit,” says Patton sleepily. “ ‘M falling back asleep tho. Love you, kiddo.”

Virgil huffs out a tiny sigh so he won’t disturb Patton’s head on his chest. “I love you too.”

[novaursa]

Myranda Valerii | Star Trek RP

Hello!

This is my Star Trek: ITD OC for role-playing. So, if you want to role-play with me and agree with the rules, feel free to send me an e-mail at:

novaursa@outlook.com

Here are the rules;

I don’t ask for much only a few things:

1 - I play your crush, you play mine. (I’m very flexible with love interests, if our characters have the same crush, no problem, I can always change mine.)

2 - No text talk.

3 - No one liners. (I write in long paragraphs.)

~Paragraph type RP = 3 or more paragraphs of stuff for each side. I don’t do one liners, unless under very specific circumstances. And if I like you.

I don’t like most people here. :P

~Storyline, please!

No plotless, pointless RP’s with a summary that could read: ‘I-met-my-crush-on-accident-cause-we’re-meant-to-be.’ No -spray- Bad role-players! I don’t care if you have a lemon every 10 minutes, just… Don’t give me sappy romance without a reason.

~Proper spelling, grammar, blah blah blah.

Mistakes? If they’re far and few between, (and legible, of course) then who cares? I certainly don’t.

UNLESS

~You contact me with a message that says: “hai, want to rp wt me? i just luv _ so much so i want blah blah blah.” I HATE that. (You’re all supposed to be 13, learn your damn capitals!) And if I can’t even stand your message, why on Earth would I want to keep RPing you? I’m in enriched English, so… just, y'know, indulge me. Just a little bit.

4 - I DON’T CARE if you curse, do lemons, or anything of that nature, I actually enjoy it. :)

5 - I prefer to role-play over e-mail.

6 - Mary Sue characters; they’re awesome. You can’t be too sue-ish with me… Unless your OC’s a hot, intelligent, tall, skinny babe/superchick with a DD chest, who, conveniently, can use magic without wands. Then you’re kinda pushing it. I mean, throw a few ugly scars in there or something, and I’ll pretend their real flaws, mkay? (Moral of the rule, kiddies is that Zen = balance = flaws = perfections = happy me and happy you.)

7 - I accept original plot.

It's so fascinating, the way that you move. They would have never seen anything like you. The way that you talk, they're not hearing your words But watching as they fly like runaway birds.

|| Biographical Information ||

"How things begin isn't nearly as important as how they end." – Myranda Valerii

- Full Name: Myranda Valerii

• Note: Her name meaning: from the Latin name (Miranda), and the meaning of Myranda is "worthy of admiration". Valerii means "brave" in Russian and "valiant" in Latin.

- Born: 2237, March 13th

- Age: 22

- Birth Place: Paris; France

|| Myranda’s Personality And Traits ||

- Personality Type: Mysterious, self-contained.

Unlike most other telepaths or augments, Myranda typically shows a great deal of concern and affection towards others. While capable of convincing manipulation and deception, she is also vulnerable to forming emotional attachments. Kirk has also commented that Myranda is more likely to "shoot things she doesn't like". She is also the most militaristic of the Psi Cops and the most likely has combat training; overall, Myranda is at least as good at combat as a veteran Starfleet officer.

- Complete Personality Profile: One of the first things that you notice about Myranda is her eyes; they are very intense and totally hypnotic. Many people find it very difficult to stand steady under her constant gaze. Her eyes seem to be penetrating your soul, knowing your deepest secrets and desires. The truth is, more often than not, she does. Myranda has a big ego. She knows what she is and what she is not. It doesn't matter what you think about her.

She is immune to both comments as well as compliments, because she knows whether they are right or wrong. Myranda has perfect control over her emotions and she always retains her faultless poise. You will hardly see her emotions being reflected on her face, whether it's a blush or a flush. In fact, Myranda deliberately practices a vacant look. The same goes for her body posture, you will hardly see her pacing around in nervousness. However, behind this impeccable composure is her torrid inner nature.

She will always try to probe you, your nature and your motives. A fierce determination is a typical Myranda’s personality trait. She has a strong willpower and is not the one to accept defeat easily. The characteristic profile of Myranda also tells us that she is honest, to the point of hurting someone. If you have asked for her opinion, you will get the brutal truth, without any sugar coating. She never gives false compliments and does not know how to flatter. However, if she does say something nice to you, be sure that it is truly sincere and is coming straight from the heart.

If you ask Myranda for a favor, it will be either a simple 'Yes' or 'No', not something like 'I will try'. If she really likes you, she will go out of the way to help you. You will never have neutral feelings for Myranda; you will either be amongst her dedicated admirers or malicious enemies. However, no one challenges her openly, not even the most spiteful enemy. She is fearless and can stand anything from physical pain to poverty.

She has complete confidence in herself and an exceptionally good memory. She never forgets an act of benevolence and always remembers to repay it. Similarly, Myranda also remembers any pain caused to her, though the reaction may differ.

If you are close to her, you will feel extremely protected and cared for. She is also fiercely possessive of what she believes to be hers. If Myranda really wants to do something, it will never remain a dream forever. She will find one or the other way to get what she wants. She is very passionate about everything around, even her home.

- Blood Type: B Positive

- Basic Trait: I Desire

- Vice(s): Difficulties in coping with death, reckless disregard for personal safety.

- Virtue(s): Charismatic and mystifying, wild, active, doer, creative, passionate, strong, loyal, intelligent.

- Annoying Trait(s): Selfish, unforgiving, unpredictable, becomes jealous easily, sensitive, egoistic, adamant.

- Endearing Trait(s): Secrecy about personal life, compassion towards friends, doesn't hide when she's angry at someone, has a sharp memory, strong-willed.

They watch as you shy away from the dance floor. They find it confusing and want to know more. Although you won't see it while you're still awake, The cameras move closer with each breath you take.

|| Physical Information ||

"I admire her purity." – Alexander Marcus

- Species: Human Augment (second generation; registered telepath)

- Gender: Female

- Hair Color: Blonde

- Eye Color: Blue with golden flecks

- Skin Color: Fair

• Note: Myranda is described as: "an exceptionally beautiful woman who has long blond hair and intelligent, piercing blue eyes." She has a soft, silken voice and is always clothed in white or blue. She never grins, though she produces disarmingly subdued smiles.

They walk around setting traps and sit and wait. Hoping in secret that you'll take the bait So they can record the way you react. Everything's legal if you're still intact.

|| More About Psi Corps ||

"The Corps is mother, the Corps is father." – From the Psi Corps pledge

- Base of Operations: Earth, Geneva

- Race(s): Humans/Teleptahs (second generations of arguments)

- Leader(s): Director of Psi Corps

- Resources: Psi Corps Motherships, Black Omega Squadron

- Affiliations: Starfleet, Federation, Earth

The Psi Corps is a Starfleet organization, ostensibly established to help human telepaths learn how to control and use their abilities for the betterment of themselves and Humanity at large. But before the Psi Corps, original human telepaths were created as "weapons of retaliation" (1995) in attempt to end The Eugenics Wars as the second and improved race of augments. They succeeded one year later.

- The culture of The Corps: Psi Corps culture naturally grew out what had already been established by the Metasensory Regulation Authority, some of which came straight from The Kith. The phrase perhaps most synonymous with the Corps, "The Corps is Mother, The Corps is Father" came from MRA agent Desa Valerii, who along with her fellow Kith made a definite impression on Corps culture. She was frequent to remind her charges while training and tracking down blips that "The kith is a mother. The kith is a father." Another tradition that began with Valerii and one followed by many was the passing of family names within the Corps along the female line, rather than the male. Referred to as "Mitochondrial descent", the reason behind it is because the marker for the telepath gene is encoded within a teep's mitochondrial DNA. As such, Myranda Valerii can trace her lineage back seven generations to Desa herself. The practice was not totally pervasive, however, and by the 2250s it had become something only really associated with the older families of the Corps. Children raised by the Corps are quickly and thoroughly indoctrinated. Raised mostly in Teeptown, they are kept in small groups or cadres where they are installed with a sense of belonging and loyalty to a larger body, discouraging individual thinking and other solitary activities. Latents, children who were tested positive as teeps but have yet to manifest their psi abilities are kept in a separate dorm (sometimes called "the basement"), often shunned and rarely mixing with the others, however, once their talents manifest they are quickly integrated into a proper cadre. Young teeps are taught that they are rare, special, and better than mundanes, and that two teeps should never be seen fighting in front of a normal. It is the position of the Psi Corps that telepathic humans who do not learn how to control their abilities are mostly unstable or become insane, therefore they need guidance. In addition to that, unregistered telepaths can do severe damage to society by using their abilities for criminal reasons. Under Federation law, all human telepaths have to be registered with the Psi Corps. After that, they have three choices: Join the Psi Corps, lifetime imprisonment, or take drugs called sleepers to suppress their abilities. Most choose to work for Psi Corps, because one common side effect of the sleepers is severe depression, sometimes so severe that it often ends in the patient's suicide. Unstable telepaths - such as schizophrenic ones - are locked away for "the good of everyone". Always an insular organization, Psi Corps is always trying to deal with incidents (or "family matters") concerning telepaths internally and tries to avoid interference by mundanes. Believing that as long as normals were kept convinced "nothing goes wrong behind these walls", they will be left alone.

"I pledge my body, heart, soul and mind to the service of the Starfleet, and the people who dwell on her myriad spheres. I promise to keep the laws, to keep the faith, to keep my eyes on the truth. I pledge to serve my comrades, my cadre, and The Corps. The Corps teaches, guides, and provides. The Corps is mother, the Corps is father. We are the children of The Corps." – The Psi Corps pledge.

- Propaganda: To strengthen the dedication of telepaths to the Corps, there are a variety of slogans that shall remind the Telepaths that Psi Corps is their family:

• "The Corps is mother, the Corps is father."

• "The Psi Corps is your friend. Trust the Corps."

• "We Are Everywhere For Your Convenience."

• "Protect the Family."

• "Obey."

• "Trust the Corps."

• "Maternis, Paternis"

• "United in thought, divided in memory."

- Resources: Psi Corps facilities are spread across the Federation, from the Corps' headquarters in Geneva to a secret intelligence center in Syria Planum on Mars. The facilities at Geneva feature hospitals, offices, and an academy where young teeps and teeks are trained to make the best of their talents. Located nearby is Teeptown, an enclosed community the size of a large village. Built out from the old MRA MetaSensory compound, this is where new members (mostly children) are indoctrinated into the culture and thinking of Psi Corps. Unknown to many, Psi Corps secretly maintains a series of motherships that remain in warp. Ferrying Psi Cops back and forth on missions, the motherships only exit to normal space when maintenance and repairs are essential and could be done unobserved.

- Psi Cops: Psi Cops is the collective name for officers of the Metasensory Police, or MetaPol and are the police enforcement arm of Psi Corps, usually dealing with cases relating to telepaths, mostly rogues and blips. During the Eugenics Wars they were first on the battlefield against the Augments. All Psi Cops are P-12s, the highest rating within the Psi Scale, but not every P-12 has the ability to become a Psi Cop, because it takes a certain amount of ruthlessness. Psi Cops receive a special training in blocking and scanning so that they are able to resist a deep-scan for at least an hour. Psi Cops have white uniforms, while other telepaths wear mostly black.

- Bloodhound Units: Bloodhound units are specially trained telepaths under the authority of the Psi Cops, used to hunt down fugitives through empathic tracking and scanning of witnesses, informants, suspects and during the Eugenics Wars, they were hunting the Augments. The origins of the Bloodhound Units go back to the days of the Metasensory Regulation Authority and a group of agents lead by Desa Valerii (also known as "Blood".) Up until 2259, the Bloodhounds were kept within the Corps, tracking blips and occasionally protecting their own. One such incident occurred around 2245, when a serial killer murdered a string of commercial telepaths. With the "mundane" authorities seemingly uninterested in catching the perpetrator, the Psi Corps took matters into its own hands without such encumbrances as warrants, permission or due process. Illegally scanning anyone who might have a lead, the Bloodhounds left behind no traces save for lingering memory gaps, missing hours and headaches, eventually finding the killer. Reasoning that turning him over to the proper authorities would require an explanation as to how they found him, the Corps had him sent to an institution on Beta Colony instead, but not before they implanted visions and hallucinations in his mind so terrifying that he would spend the rest of his days and nights screaming at things that only he could see. To prevent him from clawing his own eyes out, he was kept in a straitjacket 24 hours a day.  In 2259 the Bloodhound units were dispatched to hunt down John Harrison with Enterprise.

"You were raised by the Corps, clothed by the Corps. We are your father and your mother."

- David White, Psi Cop

- Terminology:

• Basement: Informal name given to the dormitory for latent children. These children are kept separate from other telepaths until their abilities manifest, at which point they are integrated into an appropriate Cadre.

• Black Omega: Elite Starfury unit attached to Psi Corps.

• Blip: a general term used by security officers for fugitives from the law, though it has also become synonymous with rogue telepaths. "Type A" Blips are considered to be merely misguided and open to re-education. "Type C" Blips are those who are considered sociopaths or "born criminals", who enjoy abusing their abilities and are much more difficult to re-educate.

• Bloop: Referring to the involuntary broadcasting of stray thoughts, either through weak blocks, poor discipline and/or loss of control through panic and emotional distress. Very young or untrained teeps, as well as teeks of any age are particularly notorious for blooping.

• Block: Telepathic guard against active scanning or passive sensing. Blocks usually take the form of repeating songs, nursery rhymes, or mathematical calculations. With appropriate training, mundanes can also use these techniques to block an active scan, although the mundane's ability to resist depends on how strong the telepath is. Blocks can be broken by a sufficiently strong and/or well-trained teep, however doing so forcefully can lead to the subject suffering strokes, aneurysms or cerebral hemorrhaging. This can also refer to an implanted subconscious conditioning that restrains a subject at the point of action.

• Boot: Psi Corps security officers. Not full Psi Cops, they usually operated in support roles such as Bloodhound units.

• Bloodhound: Psi Corps tracking units, usually operating under the direction of a full Psi Cop.

• Busybody: Slang term for a commercial telepath.

• Cadre: Training groups composed of young telepaths, organized into boarding houses according to age group.

• Cadre Prime: A cadre of telepaths whose abilities manifested either at birth or before the onset of puberty. Housed separately from the other cadres, they account for less than 5% of all telepaths, and as such they are considered exceptionally rare and special. Other Cadres include Cadre Secundus and Cadre Tertius.

• Casting: (See "Mindcast")

• Cops 'n' Blips: An approved game played by children in the Psi Corps during "constructive playtime". Generally it involves one or two children ("the blips") who are tasked with getting to a prearranged location without being caught, while the others (the "cops") attempt to track and capture them.

• Deathbed Scan: Performed when a telepath combs a dying person's mind for vital information up until the very moment of death. Such scans are known to be harmful to the telepath's mental health, with some believing that one loses a piece of one's soul by being in contact with the soon-to-be deceased person as they crossed the threshold. Almost no telepath who has done such a scan willingly does one a second time, since subsequent attempts are thought to be very damaging to the psyche. Psi Cop David White repeatedly volunteered for such duty, once even following a subject's mind into the void. During that scan David very nearly died himself, and would have if it hadn't been for the resuscitation efforts of the hospital staff that was attending to the dying subject. Some in the Corps say that David is the way he is because the better part of his soul is missing.

• Fugue: Telepathic attack. A favorite trick of blips, a fugue forces the target's mind to suddenly repeat its last thought over and over, effectively freezing the person's mind in the moment. The effect is short lived, but if timed right it can be enough to give the attacker an edge. For a telepath, a fugue state is akin to a psi seizure or stroke, and can sometimes be brought on by extremely severe emotional distress or shock.

• Grabber, The: A children's nickname for William Karges and the statue that bore his likeness in Teeptown's alpha quad.

• Grins: Term used by Psi Corps children for the faceless monitors within Psi Corps Cadre Prime youth training programs. Noted for their grey robes, almost mechanical voices, impersonal nature, and their blank featureless masks that display only very basic emotional symbols. Dealing out both punishments and rewards, they are more often than not a source of apprehension and mystery for most teep children. At age 12, the children are shown the true identities of the Grins, who are revealed to be their teachers and caregivers during a ceremony in which they receive their first pair of gloves, which every Psi Corp telepath must wear.

• Glyph: Projection of a telepathic image. Can be used as a means of deception (making a subject think they saw something they didn't) or to accentuate communication through illustration.

• John Trakker, Psi Cop: Fictional character that features in a weekly vid series produced by the Psi Corps. A Psi Cop that works with his partner Heng, every week they work to capture "evil" and "stupid" rogue telepaths and send them off to be re-educated by the Corps. Also featured on a merchandising line based on the show.

• Latent: Referring to a telepath who has scored positive on the screening test, but whose ability has not yet manifested. Also called "late bloomers".

• Later: Referring to a telepath whose ability manifested after or during puberty.

• Mindblast: A sudden and powerful brute-force telepathic attack, a mindblast leaves its target in a telepathic fugue. Partial amnesia is also a common side effect of a mindblast.

• Mindburst: A sudden and debilitating burst of background "noise" from other minds, most commonly suffered by laters as their psi ability first manifests itself. The mindburst's intensity is directly proportional to the teep's psi rating. For example, to a P10 the experience is akin to a deaf person suddenly hearing a rocket engine right by their heads. The sudden shock can be severe enough as to render a teep unconscious.

• Mindcast: Direct telepathic communication.

• Mind shredder: Term applied to an individual trained in attack probes who has an exceptional knack for disrupting the abilities of other telepaths.

• Mindquake: A localized kinetic agitation, usually the result of an unstable teek who is unable to control their ability.

• Monitors: (See "Grins")

• Mundane: non-telepath, meaning literally "normal". Often pejorative.

• P'see: Term used for a telepathic perception that manifests and is interpreted by a teep's brain as visual information, a sort of telepathic sight. Similar terms include "p'squint" and "p'hear".

• Psi Cop: Psi Corps police officers.

• Rogue: (See "Blip")

• Scan: An active telepathic probe. Surface scans, while difficult for even a trained P5 to detect, can only reveal what a person happens to be thinking from moment to moment and is routinely used in business negotiations to detect falsehoods, omission and obfuscation. A deep scan, while often uncomfortable, can uncover deeper thoughts and memories. Under certain conditions deep and extended scans can cause seizures, heart attacks, strokes, permanent brain damage, or if the subject is particularly resistant, death. Sustaining and blocking extended scans can also affect the telepath running the scan - the best human telepaths can only sustain a deep scan for up to 40–45 minutes, at which time they burst arteries, have strokes, or black out. According to the Psi Corps rules, all telepaths are forbidden from engaging in unauthorized scans.

• Teep: Referring to any telepath.

• Teeptown: Closed community for telepaths in Geneva, originally built up by the MRA and later Psi Corps from the old "metasensory compound".

• Teek: Referring to any telekinetic. Noted for their tendency to "bloop".

"The Corps got started because we were afraid of augments and telepaths, now they're victims of our own fears. We took away every right they had and shoved them into a big black box called Psi Corps. Now look at them. Black and white uniforms, jackboots, giving orders. Some days they scare the hell out of me. They can lie to us and we'd never know. We lie to them, they know it. How do you stop a conspiracy when there's no evidence? No record? It all takes place in thoughts, exchanged from telepath to another to another. Sooner or later this is going to get ugly."

– McCoy, on telepaths

The Corps was originally established to protect, nurture and train humans with Psi abilities, and to protect the mundane population from possible abuse or criminal activities by talented individuals. At some point, the Corps realized that it could not be effectively monitored by any external authority, and the Corps developed into a fascist state-within-a-state, pursuing its own agenda using the Psi Cops and other means, and taking an active role in Federation politics. Betazoids and Vulcans also prefer them more as ambassadors then regular humans.

Electrically charging the fences and walls. Forced to stay low, you're reduced to a crawl. "For research's good!" is their only defense. Somehow they get away with this pretense.

|| The P Scale ||

The P Scale or Psi Scale is a method of measuring the telepathic power used by the Psi Corps with lower ratings are more common than higher ones. However, the stronger the telepath's P-level, the more control, and discipline is needed, as it becomes much harder to block out the random thoughts and voices of others; a low-ebb background 'noise' is generally heard by all teeps above a P5 in their own thoughts. Training and careful focus is required to control and quiet down the background noises mentally heard by telepaths. Telepathy can also be drastically increased through the touch; that is why all Psi Corp telepaths have to wear gloves.

- P0s and P1s are usually latent telepaths, with next to no abilities. Some latent telepaths can still sense if they are being psychically probed, which non-psychics would be completely unaware of.

- P2s and P3s have weak abilities and may be used commercially.

- P4s and P5s are the most common commercial telepath levels, potent enough to be a valuable asset in negotiations. Training of P5s can be tough; most of those who train burn out, and some become brain-dead.

- P6 to P9s are military- and government-employed telepaths. Used and hired for intelligence.

- P10 is the upper level of Psi Corps training, and are assigned as instructors at Psi Corp. P10s can read the mental actions of other telepaths and block heavy scans from higher P12s for a short time, perform long-range scans. A handful of P10s can perform telekinesis but these are rare and the ability unstable.

- P11s are in administration position of the Psi Corps but can also be assigned as Psi Cops.

- P12 is the highest official rating. Such teeps can become Psi Cops; they are able to read the minds of others at long ranges, have sufficient strength to break through blocks weaker teeps may build around their own minds, and can manipulate the memories of others mundanes and lower-ranged telepaths like the P5s. P12s can even communicate with normals via telepathy and detect and scan the levels of P5s although two may be required.

- There may be individuals who are so powerful as to rate outside the scale entirely, often referred to as P13s. The scale does not measure telekinetic abilities. It is mentioned that one in 1,000 humans are telepaths, and one in 10,000 telepaths are telekinetics (teeks), and half of them are insane. This is 1×10−5% of the population or 500 out of 10 billion people.

|| Short Personal History ||

Myranda Valerii is a Human telepath, assigned by the Psi Corps to Enterprise to serve as the starship's licensed Psi Cop. She was later physically altered by the Corps.

She was born on March 13, 2237 in Paris, France. A seventh generation telepath, Myranda's talent manifested early and she was taken in by the Psi Corps and raised in Cadre Prime on Earth when she was only a few years old. This is in contrast to her mother, who was a P2 with abilities that did not manifest early enough for her to be a member of Cadre Prime and was never formally attached to the Corps due to her own mother Natasha's connections. Myranda, like her grandmother, was a P12. Though she had little contact with her blood family, she saw enough of her mother to remember her stories of her grandmother working for the old Director Vacit, even showing her an old picture of him. Even while in Teeptown, Myranda's grandmother would often bring her presents, though they always came through the Grins, Myranda always knew it was her grandma who sent them.

During year 2258, Myranda was assigned by the Corps to starship Enterprise, one year later, she was modified by the Corps physically and mentally, her regular telepathic abilities enhanced dramatically.

There's no sense in hiding 'cause everywhere's wired. Don't vent your fears, your confidants are liars. The trigger's been pulled so try not to get hit By stones that they've thrown and the fires they've lit.

|| Extra Information About Myranda ||

"There's nothing I can't do." – Myranda Valerii

- Aria’s Song(s): [1] Ultraviolence by Lana Del Rey, [2] Artificial Nocturne by Metric

- Her Song Quotes: [1] "He used to call me DN. That stood for deadly nightshade; ‘cause I was filled with poison, but blessed with beauty and rage...", [2] " I'm just as fucked up as they say. I can't fake the daytime, found an entrance to escape into the dark. Got false lights for the sun; it's an artificial nocturne. It's an outsider's escape from a broken heart. We hide out in the back, like shadows in a stranger's dream. Hiding out in the back together. Hiding out in the back forever. I make all that I believe. In dreams, so real. Babe, I have to take the call. Fate, don't fail me now. I make all that I believe. I set myself free. So take all the time you need and let yourself be"

- Body Type: Hourglass

- Rank: Psi Cop

- Psi Rating: Originally P12, P14-P30 (Adjusted)

- Assignment: U.S.S. Enterprise

- Love Interest: Khan; or Whoever you wish to play for her.

- Pereferted weapons: Old world pistols

|| Pictures Of Myranda Valerii ||

|| Myranda’s Quotes ||

"No power in the 'verse can stop me."

"The kid was raised by wolves; until she killed them and ate them all…"

"Nothing in this universe happens just once, nothing; infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. It means you'll get another chance."

"Why do I always feel like you're abducting me?"

"You could warn me when I do something stupid. Blink once for bad, twice for good."

"By your command."

"You're afraid we're going to die gasping. But we won't. That's not going to happen... We'll freeze to death first."

James T. Kirk: "I've asked you here to find out why telepaths hate us so much."

Myranda Valerii: "I'm not sure I know how to answer that. I mean, hate might not be the right word."

James T. Kirk: "I don't want to fence with you. I just want to know why."

Myranda Valerii: "It's what you said at the ceremony after the attack. You gave a speech that sounded like it wasn't the one you prepared. You said that humanity was a flawed creation, and that people still kill one another for petty jealousy and greed. You said that humanity never asked itself why it deserved to survive. Maybe you don't."

Myranda Valerii: "Kirk, if I do a deep scan, it could damage you."

James T. Kirk: "But if you don't, they're gonna kill me. Now, a headache I can get over. I'm not sure I'm gonna get over being dead any time soon."

McCoy: [Myranda has just finished doing a deep scan of Kirk's mind to see if what he has said about David's manipulation of him is true] "Jim, are you alright?"

James T. Kirk: "I just realized, I need a whole lot more fiber in my diet.’’

James T. Kirk: "I need to know Myranda. Something's happened to your abilities. You're not a P12 anymore. Hell, you're not even a P13. You're the strongest telepath that I've ever seen. What did the Corps do to you Myranda? Who...? What are you?"

Myranda Valerii: "I've only recently begun to understand it myself. Normals used telepaths as weapons during the Eugenics Wars against the Augments, like Corps is doing now, but what no one stopped to consider was that in a war you have a certain number of small weapons, a certain number of medium-size weapons and one or two big ones. The kind of weapons you drop when you're out of small weapons and the medium weapons and you've got nothing left to use."

James T. Kirk: "Someone like that would be the telepathic equivalent of a thermonuclear device - a doomsday weapon."

Myranda Valerii: "Pleased to meet you, Captain Kirk."

You're being analyzed, all their eyes, all the time. You're the experiment. You're being analyzed, all their eyes, all the time. You're the experiment.

The Experiment by Rachel Macwhirter

A/N: Free feel to text me. I am really excited to role-play this. - much love, NovaUrsa

[novaursa]

Oriana Tauron

Hello!

This is my Game of Thrones OC for role-playing. So, if you want to role-play with me and agree with the rules, feel free to send me an e-mail at:

novaursa@outlook.com

Here are the rules;

I don’t ask for much only a few things:

1 - I play your crush, you play mine. (I’m very flexible with love interests, if our characters have the same crush, no problem, I can always change mine.)

2 - No text talk.

3 - No one liners. (I write in long paragraphs.)

~Paragraph type RP = 3 or more paragraphs of stuff for each side. I don’t do one liners, unless under very specific circumstances. And if I like you.

I don’t like most people here. :P

~Storyline, please!

No plotless, pointless RP’s with a summary that could read: ‘I-met-my-crush-on-accident-cause-we’re-meant-to-be.’ No -spray- Bad role-players! I don’t care if you have a lemon every 10 minutes, just… Don’t give me sappy romance without a reason.

~Proper spelling, grammar, blah blah blah.

Mistakes? If they’re far and few between, (and legible, of course) then who cares? I certainly don’t.

UNLESS

~You contact me with a message that says: “hai, want to rp wt me? i just luv _ so much so i want blah blah blah.” I HATE that. (You’re all supposed to be 13, learn your damn capitals!) And if I can’t even stand your message, why on Earth would I want to keep RPing you? I’m in enriched English, so… just, y'know, indulge me. Just a little bit.

4 - I DON’T CARE if you curse, do lemons, or anything of that nature, I actually enjoy it. :)

5 - I prefer to role-play over e-mail.

6 - Mary Sue characters; they’re awesome. You can’t be too sue-ish with me… Unless your OC’s a hot, intelligent, tall, skinny babe/superchick with a DD chest, who, conveniently, can use magic without wands. Then you’re kinda pushing it. I mean, throw a few ugly scars in there or something, and I’ll pretend their real flaws, mkay? (Moral of the rule, kiddies is that Zen = balance = flaws = perfections = happy me and happy you.)

7 - I accept original plot. (I actually like time-traveling plots.)

|| Biographical Information ||

"She's perfect." – Arcturus Tauron

- Full Name With Title: Lady of the Pastures, Oriana Tauron

• Note: Oriana means "dawn, gold, golden dawn". She was named after her paternal grandfather, Orion.

|| Oriana's Personality And Traits ||

"let the record show that they were ill-equipped to deal with you. which is unsurprising, since you’re ill-equipped to deal with you."

- Personality Type: Mysterious, self-contained.

One of the first things that you notice about Oriana is her eyes; they are very intense and totally hypnotic. Many people find it very difficult to stand steady under her constant gaze. Her eyes seem to be penetrating your soul, knowing your deepest secrets and desires. The truth is, more often than not, she does. Oriana has a big ego. She knows what she is and what she is not. It doesn't matter what you think about her.

She is immune to both comments as well as compliments, because she knows whether they are right or wrong. Oriana has perfect control over her emotions and she always retains her faultless poise. You will hardly see her emotions being reflected on her face, whether it's a blush or a flush. In fact, Oriana deliberately practices a vacant look. The same goes for her body posture also, you will hardly see her pacing around in nervousness. However, behind this impeccable composure is her torrid inner nature.

She will always try to probe you, your nature and your motives. A fierce determination is a typical Oriana’s personality trait. She has a strong willpower and is not the one to accept defeat easily. The characteristic profile of Oriana also tells us that she is honest, to the point of hurting someone. If you have asked for her opinion, you will get the brutal truth, without any sugar coating. She never gives false compliments and does not know how to flatter. However, if she does say something nice to you, be sure that it is truly sincere and is coming straight from the heart.

If you ask Oriana for a favor, it will be either a simple 'Yes' or 'No', not something like 'I will try'. If she really likes you, she will go out of the way to help you. You never have neutral feelings for Oriana; you will either be amongst her dedicated admirers or malicious enemies. However, no one challenges her openly, not even the most spiteful enemy. She is fearless and can stand anything from physical pain to poverty.

She has complete confidence in herself and knows that she shall pass through any trial. She has an exceptionally good memory. She never forgets an act of benevolence and always remembers to repay it. Similarly, Oriana also remembers any pain caused to her, though the reaction may differ. An eagle will crush the enemy; a scorpion will meticulously plan and demolish the enemy, while the lizard will keep it inside him for years and may harm himself in the process.

If you are close to her, you will feel extremely protected and cared for. She is also fiercely possessive of what she believes to be hers. If Oriana really wants to do something, it will never remain a dream forever. She will find one or the other way to get what she wants. She is very passionate about everything around, even her home.

- Basic Trait: I Desire

- Vice(s): Difficulties in coping with death, reckless disregard for personal safety.

- Virtue(s): Charismatic and mystifying, wild, active, doer, creative, passionate, strong, loyal.

- Annoying trait(s): Selfish, unforgiving, unpredictable, becomes jealous easily, stubborn, sensitive, egoistic.

- Endearing trait(s): Secrecy about personal life, compassion towards friends, doesn't hide when she's angry at someone.

|| Physical Information ||

"Oriana collapsed to the floor, in abject shame, in horror, in revulsion, in sudden blinding comprehension... In pure joy."

- Species: Human

- Gender: Female

- Hair Color: Brown

- Eye Color: Blue with golden specks in them (family trait from her father’s side)

- Skin Color: Pale

- Virgin: Yes

• Note: Oriana is an exceptionally beautiful woman who was said to look like "a vision of the good spirits in flesh, though they themselves would fear her". She has long brown hair, long legs, and intelligent, piercing eyes. Oriana has a soft, silken voice and is never seen grinning, though she produces disarmingly subdued smiles.

|| Picture of Oriana ||

|| Background ||

"Cease your sniveling! Pity and weakness are synonymous. Remorse is forbidden. Compunction is forbidden. Do you understand?" – Arcturus To Oriana Tauron

Her mother died when she was young and thus it is her father that raised her. This made her a bit tomboyish in some ways, but at the same time, she inherited her father's skills and mannerisms. According to her father, as a child, she acted as if she were the undisputed monarch of the whole world. She never joined the local children in play. Instead, she read a lot, followed her brother around like a shadow about the gardens, and practiced archery and swordplay.

She was born during the conquest known as Robert's Rebellion. Before the Battle of the Trident, Tywin Lannister visited Astral Castle and betrayed House Tauron, using the chaos of the Rebellion as his route to power. Lord Arcturus had called together the forces of Lannisters and Taurons, intending to ride with Tywin to support his friend, The Mad King. However, upon arriving at the castle, Tywin Lannister told Arcturus Tauron that the Lannister forces would be delayed for a few days. Not one to keep the King waiting, Arcturus sent the bulk of Tauron forces ahead to King’s Landing under the command of his younger brother Marius Tauron, intending to leave with Lannister's men once they arrived.

After Marius left the city, Lannister's forces took advantage of the Tauron weakened defense and attacked during the night, killing Arcturus’ wife Lady Isla Tauron, and Marius' wife Elladora and daughters Phoebe and Savina, as well as most of the other inhabitants of the city. After Tywin fled, Arcturus managed to fight off remaining Lannister forces. But he was not able to find bodies of his children so he ordered few soldiers that are left to search the city. Eventually, Oriana and her brother were found in Blood Pastures outside the Astral Castle, unharmed. Arcturus promised to avenge his family, saying that one-day Taurons will not rest until last Lannister is dead. A promise that Oriana is also sworn to keep.

"Lannisters killed my mother, and they didn't care. They unleashed it. It killed, and it didn't care. I killed, and I didn't care." – Oriana Tauron

|| Oriana’s Family ||

- Arcturus Tauron; The Bull (father)

- Isla Tauron (mother/deceased†)

- Licorus Tauron (older brother)

- Cedrella Tauron (sister-in-law)

- Hester Tauron (cousin)

- Dorea Tauron (cousin)

- Marius Tauron; White Bull (uncle)

- Elladora Tauron (aunt/deceased†)

- Phoebe Tauron (cousin deceased†)

- Savina Tauron (cousin deceased†)

- Orion Tauron (grandfather/deceased†)

- Alexia Tauron (grandmother/deceased†)

- Status: Alive

- Rank Status: High Class

- Her Handmaiden: Vivian

- Her Septa: Sarra

- Religion: The Faith of the Seven

|| Arcturus Tauron Riding Gorgon Into Battle | Painting in Astral Castle ||

▬▬▬▬▬▬ • House Tauron Info • ▬▬▬▬▬

"By your command.", "So say we all." and "We are always watching." – Family Phrases

- House Name: Tauron

- Sigil: Black gorgon bull tearing up bloody-red field.

- Motto: “We yield to no one.”

- Seat: Blood Pastures, Astral Castle

- Region: The Reach

- Current Ruler: Lord Arcturus Tauron

- Heir To The House: Arcturus’ children, currently Lord Licorus Tauron.

- Military Strength: 80,000; maybe more. (Unknown)

- Age: Ancient. (Unknown) According to family legend, they came from the sky with ships that sailed among the stars. They bowed down to dragons recognizing their superiority.

- Founder: Alphard Tauron

- The Main Alliances: House Stark, House Tully, House Arryn, House Tyrell, House Targaryen…

- Neutral Relations: House Baratheon, House Martell, House Greyjoy…

- Enemies: House Lannister

- Ancestral Weapon(s): Blades of Woe; twin valyrian steel swords. Currently in possession of Licorus.

- Arcturus Tauron’s Gorgon Is Named: Azmodan

|| Mora About Gorgons ||

The Gorgon is a magical beast that resembles a bull, covered in dusky metallic scales and red eyes. They can breathe out a cone of green vapor that turns creatures to stone. They are very aggressive creatures that attack intruders on sight, attempting to trample, gore, or petrify them. There is no way to calm these furious creatures, and they are impossible to domesticate (only ones who managed to do so are members of House Tauron).

As mentioned, Gorgons are magical, foul-tempered creatures—while they might appear to be constructed at first glance, beneath their artificial-looking armor plates they are made of flesh and bone. Like aggressive bulls, they challenge any unfamiliar creature they encounter, often trampling their opponent's corpse or shattering its stony remnants until the creature is unrecognizable. The females are just as dangerous as the males, and the two sexes appear identical. A typical gorgon stands 6 feet tall and 8 feet long. It weighs 4,000 pounds.

Gorgons derive nutrients from the consumption of minerals, particularly the stone of their petrified victims, and any statues they create are likely to be gnawed thoroughly. They cannot digest metal or gems, so their dung (which resembles bitter-smelling gray powder) often contains small, raw crystals and nuggets of ore. Their aggression toward all other creatures means that there are few to no predators or other prey animals in their grazing grounds. Each herd is led by a dominant bull; solitary gorgons are usually adolescent bulls driven out of their herd by the lead bull.

Their flesh is tough but beefy (once the armored hide is removed), and to those who acquire the taste, quite filling. Many tribes believe eating gorgon meat enhances their strength. Powdered gorgon horn is worth 25000 gold dragons.

|| Extra Information ||

- Oriana’s Theme Songs: Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons and Mad Woman by Gina Dirawi

- Nickname(s) And Titles: Bull’s daughter, Ori, Lady of the Pastures…

- Love Interest(s): [1] Robb Stark, [2] Jon Snow, [3] Whoever you want to play for her.

- Oriana’s Preferred Weapons: Bow and arrows. Knives.

- She loves to eat honey cake and her favorite flower is a daisy.

|| Oriana’s Famous Quote(s) ||

"Skin the lion."

"There is nothing I can’t do."

"When bull hunts, the lion goes hungry."

"I am not the one you should be afraid of."

"I know you are in here. I can smell you."

"How things begin isn't nearly as important as how they end."

"Whatever happens, no matter what they tell you, don't let them take the chains off me. Because if you do; I will kill you with your own weapon."

"He looks better in red."

"You couldn’t kill me if you tired for a hundred years."

"Let's be watchful. I understand this country's full of cats."

"Know one thing... I am not afraid."

"I, too, can command the wind, sir! I have a hurricane in me that will strip your land bare if you dare to try me!"

"Who says I'm running away from anything? Maybe I'm running towards something."

"Come out, that I might send you to seven hells!"

"Death favors no man. We must ride like thundering waves under the tattered battle flag of my father."

"I'll make you wish I'd never been born."

"Follow me and I'll give you victory!"

"My father learned me that is considered an honor to aid any true seeker in his quest."

"Never start a fight - but always finish it."

"He was the best of us... they struck without provocation, there was no reason... animals! Brutal! They deserve no mercy. Strike them down! Follow them back to their homes and kill them, all of them. All of them! No mercy!"

"I will not be challenged!"

"The games of men exhaust me."

"If this pretender wears my father’s robes, I will gouge out his eyes."

"It talks too! It talks. It’s pretty. But it’s not an heir. You are not made of kings boy, but of common clay."

"Women endure what men cannot bear."

"It's easier to be terrified by an enemy you admire."

|| Dialogues and Quotes About Oriana ||

Oriana Tauron: "Who's judging now?"

Jamie Lannister: "I know your kind."

…

Tyrion Lannister: "If Oriana is hunting you, you might as well be dead already."

…

Jamie Lannister: "You look frightened. There's a large number of lonely men out there."

Oriana Tauron: "Don't worry, I won't let them rape you."

…

Oriana Tauron: "I've got this completely under control!"

Robb Stark: "Is that why everything's on fire?"

…

Eddard Stark: "Who said gorgons don't lie? A certain Tauron once lied to save a certain man from embarrassment. Apparently, she thinks there is honor in helping another save face."

…

Arya Stark: "I can go three days without sleep."

Oriana Tauron: "I can go three weeks."

…

Oriana Tauron: [chained down, bitterly] "I can't see! Are the stars shining tonight?"

Tywin Lannister: "Brightly, my lady. Brightly."

Oriana Tauron: "Then let us end this."

…

Oriana Tauron: "When there are no more dragons to slay, how will you make a living, slayer?"

Robert Baratheon: "SHUT UP!"

…

Jamie Lannister: "If a gorgon falls in the forest and nobody gets to hear about it, does it make a thud?"

…

Cersei Lannister/Baratheon: "The word of a bull - it's worthless."

|| More Pictures Of Oriana ||

|| Oriana’s Horse | Amdusias ||

And there it is. This is my OC. Feel free to message me if you wish to role-play with me. I love you all. <3 - NovaUrsa

[novaursa]

Celebríel of Lothlórien

Hello!

This is my Lord of the Rings/Hobbit OC for role-playing. So, if you want to role-play with me and agree with the rules, feel free to send me an e-mail at:

novaursa@outlook.com

Here are the rules;

I don’t ask for much only a few things:

1 - I play your crush, you play mine. (I’m very flexible with love interests, if our characters have the same crush, no problem, I can always change mine.)

2 - No text talk.

3 - No one liners. (I write in long paragraphs.)

~Paragraph type RP = 3 or more paragraphs of stuff for each side. I don’t do one liners, unless under very specific circumstances. And if I like you.

I don’t like most people here. :P

~Storyline, please!

No plotless, pointless RP’s with a summary that could read: ‘I-met-my-crush-on-accident-cause-we’re-meant-to-be.’ No -spray- Bad role-players! I don’t care if you have a lemon every 10 minutes, just… Don’t give me sappy romance without a reason.

~Proper spelling, grammar, blah blah blah.

Mistakes? If they’re far and few between, (and legible, of course) then who cares? I certainly don’t.

UNLESS

~You contact me with a message that says: “hai, want to rp wt me? i just luv _ so much so i want blah blah blah.” I HATE that. (You’re all supposed to be 13, learn your damn capitals!) And if I can’t even stand your message, why on Earth would I want to keep RPing you? I’m in enriched English, so… just, y'know, indulge me. Just a little bit.

4 - I DON’T CARE if you curse, do lemons, or anything of that nature, I actually enjoy it. :)

5 - I prefer to role-play over e-mail.

6 - Mary Sue characters; they’re awesome. You can’t be too sue-ish with me… Unless your OC’s a hot, intelligent, tall, skinny babe/superchick with a DD chest, who, conveniently, can use magic without wands. Then you’re kinda pushing it. I mean, throw a few ugly scars in there or something, and I’ll pretend their real flaws, mkay? (Moral of the rule, kiddies is that Zen = balance = flaws = perfections = happy me and happy you.)

7 - I accept original plot. (I actually like time-traveling plots.)

I barricade my doors board up my windows anything to keep them out crawling underneath my skin so I can see it's gonna eat me up alive

|| Biographical Information ||

"I am not your little princess." – Celebríel

- Full Name: Princess (Lady) Celebríel of Lothlórien

• Note: Meaning of Celebríel is ‘silver princess’, from Sindarian words celeb (silver) and riel (princess).

- Age: Between the years SA 400 and SA 450

• Note: She is younger sister of Celebrían and youngest daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel.

no, I've got no patience, no faith no room for your lies in my maze full of worst of these, I got war pain dawn black strass spilling on my name

|| Celebríel's Personality And Traits ||

"Celebríel… Pale; bloodless. Look into her eyes and see nothing but mirrors-infinities of reflection." – Saruman The White

- Personality Type: Mysterious, self-contained.

One of the first things that you notice about Celebríel is her eyes; they are very intense and totally hypnotic. Many people find it very difficult to stand steady under her constant gaze. Her eyes seem to be penetrating your soul, knowing your deepest secrets and desires. The truth is, more often than not, she does. Celebríel has a big ego. She knows what she is and what she is not. It doesn't matter what you think about her.

She is immune to both comments as well as compliments, because she knows whether they are right or wrong. Celebríel has perfect control over her emotions and she always retains her faultless poise. You will hardly see her emotions being reflected on her face, whether it's a blush or a flush. Infact, Celebríel deliberately practices a vacant look. The same goes for her body posture also, you will hardly see her pacing around in nervousness. However, behind this impeccable composure is her torrid inner nature.

She will always try to probe you, your nature and your motives. Fierce determination is a typical Celebríel’s personality trait. She has a strong willpower and is not the one to accept defeat easily. The characteristic profile of Celebríel also tells us that she is honest, to the point of hurting someone. If you have asked for her opinion, you will get the brutal truth, without any sugar coating. She never gives false compliments and does not know how to flatter. However, if she does say something nice to you, be sure that it is truly sincere and is coming straight from the heart.

If you ask Celebríel for a favor, it will be either a simple 'Yes' or 'No', not something like 'I will try'. If she really likes you, she will go out of the way to help you. You never have neutral feelings for Celebríel; you will either be amongst her dedicated admirers or malicious enemies. However, no one challenges her openly, not even the most spiteful enemy. She is fearless and can stand anything from physical pain to poverty.

She has complete confidence in herself and knows that she shall pass through any trial. She has an exceptionally good memory. She never forgets an act of benevolence and always remembers to repay it. Similarly, Celebríel also remembers any pain caused to her, though the reaction may differ. An eagle will crush the enemy; a scorpion will meticulously plan and demolish the enemy, while the lizard will keep it inside him for years and may harm himself in the process.

If you are close to her, you will feel extremely protected and cared for. She is also fiercely possessive of what she believes to be hers. If Celebríel really wants to do something, it will never remain a dream forever. She will find one or the other way to get what she wants. She is very passionate about everything around, even her home.

- Basic Trait: I Desire

- Vice(s): Difficulties in coping with death, reckless disregard for personal safety.

- Virtue(s): Strong, passionate, intense, driven, loyal, charismatic.

- Annoying trait(s): Selfish, unforgiving, unpredictable, becomes jealous easily, stubborn, sensitive, egoistic.

- Endearing trait(s): Secrecy about personal life, compassion towards friends, doesn't hide when she's angry at someone.

world made me MAD WOMAN the world made me MAD WOMAN made me walk like a MAD WOMAN made me talk like a bad woman

|| Physical Information ||

"Who said elves don't lie? A certain elf once lied to save a certain hobbit from embarrassment. Apparently, she thinks there is honor in helping another save face."

– Bilbo Baggins

- Species/Race: Elf (elleth)

- Gender: Female

- Hair Color: Silver

- Eye Color: Lavender (*albinism)

- Skin Color: Pale

• Note: Celebríel was an exceptionally beautiful woman who was said to look like "a vision of the good spirits in flesh, though they themselves would fear her". She had long silver hair, strong shoulders, and intelligent, piercing, violet eyes. Celebríel had a soft, silken voice and was always clothed in fine dresses. She never grinned, though she produced disarmingly subdued smiles. She was extraordinarily talented in battles, astonishing Gandalf with her creativity.

• Note: Her appearance is described as: "A svelte, exotic-looking young woman with long silver hair and large eyes. Her body is relatively thin and not strong." and Sauron once said that "Celebríel is innocent. She is beautiful. She is vulnerable."

- Scent: Chocolate, honey, and smell of the petrichor.

- Body Type: Hourglass

so I raise my hands to God the stain glass in hollowed wars

|| Picture of Celebríel ||

once of it all, pain come when built base slay the king, crown the queen, flip the game

|| Background ||

"Know one thing... I am not afraid." – Celebríel

Her birth date is unspecified, though she might have been born near Lake Evendim between SA 400 and SA 450, as her older sister. She lived with her mother and sister in Eregion, and later fled to Lórinand sometime between SA 1350 and SA 1400. After a time, they passed through Moria and dwelt in Rivendell.

While she spent most on her childhood with mother and sister, in truth, it is her father that raised her. This made her a bit tomboyish in some ways, but at the same time she inherited her father's skills and mannerisms. According to her father, as a child she acted as if she were the undisputed monarch of the whole world. She never joined the local elflings in play. Instead she read a lot, followed her sister around like a shadow about the gardens, and practiced archery and swordplay.

After her sister was captured and tortured by Orcs, Celebríel angst became more evident. She distanced herself from family and continued with her training more furiously, and after her sister sailed west she fuelled her loneliness with revenge on Orcs and countless battles. After a time, Celebríel became great battle commander and huntress.

Later, she was requited by Gandalf to help Thorin and Company in their quest, much to the annoyance of dwarfs. She also attended the meeting at Rivendell, acting as an ambassador in her mother’s stead, and was a part of the Fellowship.

- Her psychology: Celebríel is both capable and quick-witted: traits which she can use to be charming or to cut someone up verbally -- which she will not hesitate to do, if the situation calls for it. It is to Celebríel's eternal irritation that, had she been born a man, it would have been much easier for her to achieve power in the world. She is easily bored by those of lesser intelligence and often assumes a somewhat imperious manner. She has become accustomed, after all, to being served. Ultimately Celebríel is a pragmatist and when she speaks she should always strain to make it plainly obvious that what she is saying is the clearest, most intelligent path to take.

Celebríel puts forward an air of confidence and competence mixed with majesty and grace. She does not use her feminine wiles to her advantage -- not because she does not possess them, but simply because it does not occur to her. She uses her intelligence far more readily, as it was how her father raised her. She is direct and often pointed in her manner without being overbearing, until annoyance or irritation wears at her patience. She is also very much her father's daughter, but unlike her father, she is capable of setting morals aside to achieve the ends she desires.

there'll be war stories or my war fame stripes all black make the world insane.

|| Additional Information ||

"The word of an elf - it's worthless." – Thorin Oakenshield

- Nickname(s): Bell (by her friends), Little Star (by her father)

- Celebríel’s Theme Song(s): Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons and Mad Woman by Gina Dirawi

- Love Interest: Whoever you want to play for her.

- Oriana’s Preferred Weapons: Bow and arrows. Knives.

- Favorite Flower: Lissuin

|| Part Of The Poem About Celebríel ||

"She was a gordian shape of dazzling hue,

Vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue;

Striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard,

Eyed like a peacock, and all crimson barr’d;

And full of silver moons, that, as she breathed,

Dissolv’d, or brighter shone, or interwreathed

Their lustres with the gloomier tapestries-

So rainbow-sided, touch’d with miseries,

She seem’d, at once, some penanced lady elf,

Some demon’s mistress, or the demon’s self.

Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire

Sprinkled with stars, like Varda’s tiar:

Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet!

She had a woman’s mouth with all its pearls complete:

And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there

But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair?"

– ‘Her Majesty’ by Bilbo Baggins

|| Celebríel And Her Horse | Amdusias ||

|| Celebríel’s Quotes ||

"Skin the Orc."

"There is nothing I can’t do."

"When I hunt, the cannibal goes hungry."

"I am not the one you should be afraid of."

"I know you are in here. I can sense you."

"How things begin isn't nearly as important as how they end."

"Whatever happens, no matter what they tell you, don't let them take the chains off me. Because if you do; I will kill you with your own weapon."

"He looks better in red."

"You couldn’t kill me if you tired for a hundred years."

"Let's be watchful. I understand this country's full of dogs."

"Know one thing... I am not afraid."

"I, too, can command the wind, sir! I have a hurricane in me that will strip your land bare if you dare to try me!"

"Who says I'm running away from anything? Maybe I'm running towards something."

"Come out, that I might send you to seven hells!"

"Death favors none. We must ride like thundering waves under the tattered battle flag of my father."

"I'll make you wish I'd never been born."

"Follow me and I'll give you victory!"

"My father leaned me that is considered an honor to aid any true seeker in his quest."

"Never start a fight - but always finish it."

"He was the best of us... they struck without provocation, there was no reason... animals! Brutal! They deserve no mercy. Strike them down! Follow them back to their homes and kill them, all of them. All of them! No mercy!"

"I will not be challenged!"

"It's easier to be terrified by an enemy you admire."

"The kid was raised by wolves; until she killed them and ate them all…"

"Nothing in this universe happens just once, nothing; infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. It means you'll get another chance."

"Why do I always feel like you're abducting me?"

"By your command."

"When I had to learn the language of Men, one of the most difficult words for me was "goodbye." There is no corresponding word for "goodbye" in Sindarin. All our partings contain within them the possibility of meeting again: in other places, in other times, in other lives. So you will excuse me if I do not say "goodbye"." – Celebríel

|| Dialogues and Quotes About/With Celebríel ||

Celebríel: "Who's judging now?"

Thorin: "I know your kind."

…

Aragorn: "If Celebríel is hunting you, you might as well be dead already."

…

Thorin: "You look frightened. There's a large number of lonely men out there."

Celebríel: "Don't worry, I won't let them touch you."

…

Celebríel: "I've got this completely under control!"

Bilbo: "Is that why everything's on fire?"

…

Gimli: "I can go three days without sleep."

Celebríel: "I can go three weeks."

…

Celebríel: [chained down, bitterly] "I can't see! Are the stars shining tonight?"

Mouth of Sauron: "Brightly, she-elf. Brightly."

Celebríel: "Then let us end this."

…

Celebríel: "When there are no more dragons to slay, how will you make a living, slayer?"

Thorin: "SHUT UP!"

…

Kíli: "If an elf falls in the forest and nobody gets to hear about it, does it make a thud?"

…

Celebríel: "Of course, our senses will be useless from now on."

Gimli: "There you go again, elf - looking for the cloud in the silver lining."

Celebríel: "I am not complaining. I look forward to walking through the wilds without a map and no idea what lies ahead."

Gimli: "Well, the funny thing is, you probably are."

…

Thorin: "Elf! Why did Gandalf have to send an elf with us?"

Bilbo: "I'm a Hobbit. Does that make you feel any better?"

Thorin: "Are you trying to be funny?"

Bilbo: "Not at all. She's the funny one."

Celebríel: (smiles innocently)

…

Celebríel: "Can I make a suggestion that you won't like?"

Aragorn: "Do you make any other kind?"

…

Celebríel: "I'm sorry, and thank you."

Thorin: "Save it. We're both going to catch seven different kinds of hell over this down the road."

Celebríel: "My dad always says: ‘There are no happily ever afters, just new battles.’"

world made me MAD WOMAN the world made me MAD WOMAN made me walk like a MAD WOMAN made me talk like a bad woman

And there it is. This is my OC. Feel free to message me if you wish to role-play with me. I love you all. <3 - NovaUrsa

[novaursa]

Hydra Cassiopeia Black

Hello!

This is my Harry Potter OC for role-playing. So, if you want to role-play with me and agree with the rules, feel free to send me an e-mail at:

novaursa@outlook.com

Here are the rules;

I don't ask for much only a few things:

1 - I play your crush, you play mine. (I'm very flexible with love interests, if our characters have the same crush, no problem, I can always change mine.)

2 - No text talk.

3 - No one liners. (I write in long paragraphs.)

~Paragraph type RP = 3 or more paragraphs of stuff for each side. I don't do one liners, unless under very specific circumstances. And if I like you.

I don't like most people here. :P

~Storyline, please!

No plotless, pointless RP's with a summary that could read: 'I-met-my-crush-on-accident-cause-we're-meant-to-be.' No -spray- Bad role-players! I don't care if you have a lemon every 10 minutes, just... Don't give me sappy romance without a reason.

~Proper spelling, grammar, blah blah blah.

Mistakes? If they're far and few between, (and legible, of course) then who cares? I certainly don't.

UNLESS

~You contact me with a message that says: "hai, want to rp wt me? i just luv _ so much so i want blah blah blah." I HATE that. (You're all supposed to be 13, learn your damn capitals!) And if I can't even stand your message, why on Earth would I want to keep RPing you? I'm in enriched English, so... just, y'know, indulge me. Just a little bit.

4 - I DON'T CARE if you curse, do lemons, or anything of that nature, I actually enjoy it. :)

5 - I prefer to role-play over e-mail.

6 - Mary Sue characters; they're awesome. You can't be too sue-ish with me... Unless your OC's a hot, intelligent, tall, skinny babe/superchick with a DD chest, who, conveniently, can use magic without wands. Then you're kinda pushing it. I mean, throw a few ugly scars in there or something, and I'll pretend their real flaws, mkay? (Moral of the rule, kiddies is that Zen = balance = flaws = perfections = happy me and happy you.)

7 - I accept original plot. (I actually like time-traveling plots.)

|| Hydra’s Basic Information ||

‘‘what’s to be gained from keeping the heaviest of treasures behind your teeth?’’ - Full name: Hydra Cassiopeia Black

- Nicknames: Cass (by friends and family), Black (by others).

- Born: 13th March

- Blood Status: Pure-blood

- Age: (depends on what Hogwarts year we are role-playing)

- (Birth) Sing: Pisces

|| Personality And Traits ||

‘‘make room for small, fragile things, even with bones like cement and a leaden heart.’’

- Personality Type: Mysterious, self-contained.

Her characteristics profile exhibits loads of charm and a very easygoing attitude. Hydra is not bothered by restrictions, as long as she has the right to dream and live her own life. Radical opinions do not stimulate her at all, nor do insults make her agitated. Very few things compel Hydra to lose her temper. When she does get angry, it is better to stay away.

Hydra can give the most sarcastic comments, be extremely rude and lash you with a scathing tongue. The best part is that the anger seldom lasts long and she will be her usual placid self again. When she sees the world, her eyes seem to be covered with rose-colored spectacles. Hydra lives in the world of her own, even when she is completely aware of the rough side of life. In her world, everyone is good and everything is beautiful. She has a very sharp memory and tends to remember the minutest of details.

When describing Hydra’s personality, one of the basic traits that come in mind is her soothing stability. Even in the worst of storms, she will never panic and will maintain her poise. Hydra has a good intuition and if she tells you not to go out of the house on a particular day, it is better to stay indoors. Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac and represents death and eternity. It has a blend of the qualities of all the other zodiacs. It is because of this fusion that it becomes very difficult to truly understand Hydra.

She is a great organizer and pays attention to details, has a fair and detached judgment, is sympathetic and moody, displays honesty and kindness, loves people and attention and is analytical. At the same time, she talks very quickly and expertly, is passive and stubborn, can know your deepest secrets, shows dedication to duty and overflows with optimism, innocence, and zeal.

Hydra likes to argue, loves nature and holds fierce ambitions. She is deeply interested in music and art, has great wisdom and is very compassionate towards the weak. She loves to help people in distress and utilizes most of her energy doing this only. You will never know when Hydra is profoundly hurt. She hides her deepest emotions behind a veil of humor. The humor may be warm and innocent or cold and ruthless. However, it is sure to be a mask for some other emotion, more often than not.

Laughter is her best cover and she will use it wisely. Hydra has compassion for the sick and even tries to understand the feelings of the lonely. Even those who are weak by choice will get her shoulder to cry on. She never judges people and accepts them just as they are. She knows all your vices and virtues, understands them and will still be there if you need her. Hydra wants to help everyone; still most of the people fail to understand her sensitivity. She absorbs the positive as well as the negative vibrations around her.

Very often, she buries her own dreams to see her loved ones realizing their ambitions. One quality of Hydra that is very annoying is that she hates to answer questions in a simple 'Yes' or 'No'. Mostly, the answer will be a 'Maybe'. Still, she cares and she lets you know that. Hydra is much stronger and wiser than most of the other people her age, she only has yet to realize it. The moment she struggles against the tide, you know she will reach the shore before anyone else.

- Vice(s): Difficulties in coping with death, reckless disregard for personal safety.

- Virtue(s): Charismatic and mystifying, wild, active, doer, creative, passionate, strong, loyal, tender.

- Annoying trait(s): Emotional and sensitive, prone to wistfulness, has mood swings, inflexible, unpredictable.

- Endearing trait(s): Intuitive, empathic, not interested in material things, has a sharp memory, optimistic, strong-willed.

|| Biological Information ||

‘‘at times your body is simply a prison laid in gold.’’

- Species: Human/Which

- Gender: Female

- Hair Color: Brown

- Eye Color: Steel 

- Skin Color: Fair 

- Accent: English

- Note: Hydra is an exceptionally beautiful girl who was said to look like "a vision of the good spirits in flesh, though they themselves would fear her". She has long dark hair, strong shoulders, and intelligent, piercing, silver eyes. Hydra has a soft, silken voice and is never seen grinning, though she produces disarmingly subdued smiles.

|| Psychology Of Hydra ||

‘‘soothe what you can, fight what you can’t.’’

Hydra is both capable and quick-witted: traits which she can use to be charming or to cut someone up verbally -- which she will not hesitate to do, if the situation calls for it. It is to Hydra's eternal irritation that, had she been born a man, it would have been much easier for her to achieve power in the world. She is easily bored by those of lesser intelligence and often assumes a somewhat imperious manner. She has become accustomed, after all, to being served. Ultimately Hydra is a pragmatist and when she speaks she should always strain to make it plainly obvious that what she is saying is the clearest, most intelligent path to take.

Hydra puts forward an air of confidence and competence mixed with majesty and grace. She does not use her feminine wiles to her advantage -- not because she does not possess them, but simply because it does not occur to her. She uses her intelligence far more readily, as it was how her father raised her. She is direct and often pointed in her manner without being overbearing, until annoyance or irritation wears at her patience. 

|| Background ||

‘‘decey will feed the bloom.’’

She was born to Arcturus Black (OC) and Selena Black (OC/née Carrow) as the only child. Unlike her parents, she was immediately sorted into Ravenclaw when she turned 11 and attended the Sorting ceremony at Hogwarts.  She was tomboyish in some ways, but at the same time, she inherited her father's skills and mannerisms. According to her father, as a child, she acted as if she were the undisputed monarch of the whole world. She never joined the local children in play. Instead, she read a lot, followed her mother around like a shadow about the gardens, and practiced spells and hexes.

From a young age, Hydra has shown particular adoration towards birds. So, her father gave her a gift for her eight birthday: the common kestrel that she named Hades.

|| Magical Characteristics ||

‘‘you are a quiet god, and your hunger is carnivorous.’’

- Wand/Material Information:

- Wood: Holly

- Core: Thestral tail hair.

- Length: 12¾”

-Note: The handle design mimics creeping vines and melds with the rest of the wand.

- Characteristics: Unyielding

-Note: Holly is one of the rarer kinds of wand woods; traditionally considered protective, it works most happily for those who may need help overcoming a tendency to anger and impetuosity. At the same time, holly wands often choose owners who are engaged in some dangerous and often spiritual quest. Holly is one of those woods that varies most dramatically in performance depending on the wand core, and it is a notoriously difficult wood to team with phoenix feather, as the wood's volatility conflicts strangely with the phoenix's detachment. In the unusual event of such a pairing finding its ideal match, however, nothing and nobody should stand in their way.

- Patronus: Hawk (Those with the hawk Patronus are dangerously intelligent, noting every detail of what is around them. They are great observers as well as being magnificent hunters, this meaning they have both sides of the coin covered. They can come up with an idea, plan it out, and execute it perfectly. They are extreme perfectionists, wanting everything to be just as they see it. If it isn’t, they feel trapped, which can cause them to become incredibly emotional. The most common house for a hawk Patronus is Ravenclaw.)

- Favorite Spell(s): Incendio (The Fire-Making Spell (Incendio) is the incantation of a spell that set things alight).

- Occlumency or Legilimency: While she was trained very well in both, after the harsh training she reaches heights ratings in Occlumency. She was so good with her mental shield that not even her father, who is high ranking in Legilmency could breach her mental barrier.

- Owl/Pet: None. The common kestrel Hades.

- Amortentia: Chocolate, honey, and smell of the petrichor.

- Favorite Magical Animal/s: Dragons/Hungarian Horntail

- Registered Animagus Y/N: Yes (registered), Hawke.

|| Extra Information ||

‘‘nothing can stay.’’

- Her favorite color: Purple

- Her father’s profession:  A Curse-Breaker

- Her favorite flower is: any type of drosera family.

- Her favorite food: Chocolate

- Her song:  SVRCINA - Meet Me On The Battlefield

- Prophecy about Hydra: "Your coming has been foretold... You are part of the culmination. But not the end of it. You shall show the way, the path that must be taken, the realigning of old truths no longer valid. Yours is not the hand, but your very existence provides necessary instruction."

- Crush: Depends on the role-play. - Ravenclaw Profile

- Necromancer Profile

- Her quotes:

"There's nothing I can't do."

"You can take anything if you want it enough."

"They want to get to know me too."

"I never try."

"The kid was raised by wolves; until she killed them and ate them all…"

"How things begin isn't nearly as important as how they end."

"Nothing in this universe happens just once, nothing; infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. It means you'll get another chance."

"Why do I always feel like you're abducting me?"

"You could warn me when I do something stupid. Blink once for bad, twice for good."

"My parents thought they were naming me something unique, but really they just signed me up for a life with misspelled, mispronounced, never finding on a muggle coke bottle name."

"Know one thing... I am not afraid."

"Who says I'm running away from anything? Maybe I'm running towards something."

"Never start a fight - but always finish it."

|| Hydra’s Letter ||

"Dear cousin,

mother is saying again that I’m not eating enough. I’m trying, I really am. But lately, my sickness got only worse. Even that muggle Belgium chocolate you sent lost its taste under my tongue. My nights are also restless, the pain keeps me awake most of the time and rest is left for nightmares. Father doesn’t seem concerned, though, he says that I should be proud to have such pure affliction of the blood – he said that only a few of us can have such a burden. I have my doubts. Still, he wants me to continue with my training more vigorously than before. That being said, I will probably be prevented to meet you at our ancestral home.

Sometimes I wish to be free as you. Other days I just want to make everyone proud. Dead end. Nevertheless, you are the only one that I can bother with this matter. I hope to see you soon either way.

With much love,

Hydra C. Black"

And there it is. This is my OC. Feel free to message me if you wish to role-play with me. I love you all. <3  - NovaUrsa