#places flower on askers hat

[sun-e-chips]

Wait you said the boys get a bit of slack from fazco right? So when they do the flower in y/n’s hat, or when they yell that they are their wife, would fazco do anything about it if guests like recorded it and put on social media?

Nope the wonderful thing is fazco has absolutely no say in how the boys manage their waterpark now! The only ties that fazco has to the park is their name included in affiliation, and them receiving payments for the branding pretty much.

So if some of the boys teasing with poor y/n gets posted on social media there would be no consequences, poor y/n though if their uncomfortable with being recorded.

If the boys catch on to your unease some unexplained technical problems may arise with peoples phones within your vicinity.

Because yeah that’s the solution, not leaving you alone of course :)

#also thankfully since it’s a waterpark typically people don’t keep their phones on their persons around the slides pools and such #sorry if you still don’t like all the attention but I don’t think you’re ready to interact with the boys in a private setting #fazco: wait we can get paid and not even have to do anything??? sign me up! #they boys got it allllll covered #hmmm #save for marketing #waterpark au #WP au asks #dca au #places flower on askers hat #waterspark

[snifflyjoonie]

oh i’m about to bombard u with jimin: 🌡🤧😫🤝✨ and 📕 involving thr inducing part somehow :)) i love ur work

Oh heck yeah! Let’s get into it. (Thanks for the sweet comment btw!!)

🌡: Do they tend to run hot or cold? When they have a fever, is it barely noticeable, or does their temperature skyrocket?

I feel like Jimin’s fevers tend to run pretty average most of the time. It’s super rare for them to spike to alarming levels. He just gets really shivery and most likely bundles up in a few extra layers to compensate.

🤧: What does their sneeze sound like? (Description, spelling, or both!)

Jimin has really airy, light sneezes. They just sound itchy and, honestly, kind of wet. My go-to spellings for Jimin are usually something like “hI’TTSCHHh!” or “hA’ISHHhiuew!” I also feel like he stifles a LOT normally, and is pretty good at making them near silent. Probably along the lines of “hh’nngxt!” or, if it’s half-stifled, “hI’Ggnx’tchiew!” I don’t really bold his much because I think it makes them less delicate sounding lol.

😩: Do they tend to sneeze just once or twice, or multiple times? Do they have fits frequently or rarely? Does how many times they sneeze depend on the cause?

Jimin is a serial multiple sneezer lmfao. His sneezes are just so itchy it normally takes two or three to clear up whatever is bothering him at the current moment. I feel like when he stifles they’re a bit more easy to control so he probably only sneezes really once or twice in instances like that. 

🤝: Do they like to be taken care of when they’re not feeling well? Or do they hate it when people fuss over them? If they do, what’s their favorite thing about being taken care of? If not, why don’t they like being taken care of? How bad would they have to be before they’d let anyone take care of them in any capacity?

Man, this is a tough one! I feel like a lot of writers in the community go both ways with this. I’ve seen fics of Jimin denying being sick until it’s too blatantly obvious to ignore as well as fics where he wants to be babied from day one lol. Personally, I like the idea that Jimin probably tries to ignore whatever’s ailing him, but if the others offer help he won’t deny it. I think his favourite thing about being taken care of would just be getting a little bit of a break.

✨: What would be the best way for someone to induce them? Feathers, rolled-up tissue, or something else? How much stimulation would it take for them to start sneezing? Would inducing produce just one or two sneezes from them, or multiples?

lol man i don’t know! I don’t tend to write inducing too much in my fics so I don’t really lean one way or the other on this. Frankly I feel like if someone were to induce him it would probably not be on purpose hahaha. Maybe they spray a cologne for him to smell that they don’t realize he’s sensitive to, or something similar but with a bouquet of flowers??? Hmmmmm. I definitely feel like whatever the cause would be it would most likely coax more than one sneeze out of him regardless. 

📕: Write something a little longer with them! (Asker can provide a prompt, or can leave it up to the one receiving the ask!)

Alright, anon asked for something involving inducing, but again I’m not really well versed in writing inducing fics so bear with me here, lol! (I’m picturing this maybe during the run episode where Jungkook had that ridiculous feather on his hat, for context)

~

Not a single member could stop themselves from laughing as soon as Jungkook walked in wearing the absolutely ridiculous outfit Seokjin had created. From the trunks-turned-pants, to the 8-bit shades, to the comically large feather poking from his hat...it was all just too much. Jimin was just glad he hadn’t been the one to draw Seokjin’s name earlier. Frankly he didn’t think he could handle the sheer groundbreaking embarrassment of being seen in something like that. 

He couldn’t help but giggle again as Jungkook waddled his way over to the rest of them. They were about to take their group photos, and with most of the space already taken up by the others, Jungkook ended up plopping down directly in front of Jimin. 

Now, of course, for any of the other members (except for maybe Yoongi) this wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Most of them were tall, or tall enough. But Jimin was on the shorter side, and as soon as Jungkook sat himself down the older vocalist knew he was in trouble. 

The obnoxious feather landed exactly at his eye level, and within seconds began to graze his nose in the most unbearably ticklish way. Jimin instinctively sputtered backwards, squeezing his eyes closed as he exhaled forcefully through his nose. 

The clattering of his motion made the others turn their heads in his direction just in time to catch him bending into his cupped hands with a few itchy sneezes.

“hI’TSHHhH! ‘TSShhiuew! hA’ITSCHhhiew!”

He came back up sniffling, and rubbed at his eyes a little sheepishly.

“S-sorry.” He murmured, “Do you think Jungkook and I could switch places...?”

~

Hope that was ok anon! Short and sweet, lol. Thanks for the ask!!

#answered #bts hc #there's a little jimin drabble at the bottom of this as a treat hehehehe #i love drabbles man #short and sweet and straight to the point lol #bts drabble #my drabble

[pirotehnist]

Farmer's Market! Chapter 1

Imagine being in a field. Next to you, is a scarecrow. A young man, who we will later find out is named Terrible Toby, but who for now remains unnamed. He has been cruelly named that by the old farmer's children, simply because they disliked him down to his bones.

   This young man is wearing a worn down suit jacket, who once was a deep blue, and a pair of jeans, in the same condition. His makeshift face was painted, and sewn, on a sack, and so where his hands, and feet.

   Said face is now being turned toward the glass statue of a young woman, who has been out there unmoving for quite some time. A long time, and any time soon she must understand that hiding is no longer necessary. The farmers are long gone, never to come back. They have made sure of that. The sun sends light, straight through the woman's chest, and that is where the glass shell first cracks. Crack. Snap. Crack. Her right hand is free and moving, and working quite steadily on her other arm, speeding up the cracking process. She is down to her ribs now, and, as it is custom, our unnamed boy sat and watched,  as it would have been terribly offensive to offer help. The process is for each to complete on their own. Although, he did crack his own fingers a bit at the end, just to make sure she knows of his presence. One of the benefits of still having bones, he thought. Bones that actually belong to him, he continued, a strong sense of pride in his heart. Well, not heart, as he didn't have one of those, but his general being.

   The moving shards of glass, who formed a face, and the two glints of light serving as her pupils, turned towards him, and extended a hand.

   -Do you have a name? she asked, voice not exactly coming from her mouth, but more from around her head. Mine is Miss Monday.

   -I'm, he began, giving her his left hand, as his right has been behind his back for some time,  Terrible Toby, ma'am. Pleased to meet you.

   That seemed to send her into a trance, as she continued very softly:

   -Are you sad, Toby? Do you know how to be sad?

   Said questions, of course, confused him, even more as the asker did not wait for an answer, but promptly began collecting small wild flowers from the field.

   -What are you making? he piped up, trying to maintain the conversation.

   -I'm not sure, but I trust that it will be beautiful. Until it wilts, at least. Can you feel emotions? Complex ones, I mean.

-Why are you so fixated on emotions? Are you unable to have them? Is this some sort of jealousy? You're making me so confused, honestly.

-Not really. It's just that I feel weird now. A lack of memories, and the time passed, I feel weird. I was very young, and very beautiful, when I was trapped. I am old now. Are the farmers Gone?

"She's right," thought Toby. "She does sound old. And very, very tired."

-Yes, they are. They've been Gone for a long time. You coulda' come out earlier, although I think healing takes some time, so it's understandable.

-Makes sense, although I don't remember much prior to waking up. My name, and very faint lines. It's all silly.

And suddenly, Toby did realise it was all very silly. Yes, if you think about it, she was right, which made him go silent for a bit, as the glass form circled him, gathering quite a handful of flowers. When it was all finished, she plopped down next to him, or more accurately clinked, as that was the sound the glass made. Miss Monday, with an accuracy you wouldn't think glass was capable of, began braiding flowers together.

Being with someone else, even with a confusing girl made of glass shards, was one of the things Toby missed most about being human. Sure, it was Them, but They were awfully professional, and didn't stick around long.

The feeling of something being plucked into his hat was what brought him back to reality. Two pieces of glass stared into his eyes, a circle of flowers now on Monday's head. He brought his hand to his hat, feeling a flower.

-Now we aren't quite as hideous as before, I think, came her reply.

-I'm hideous? he asked, taken by surprise, and a little hurt, if we're being honest.

-Well, yes, but I think it's ok. Would you feel bad about missing teeth if you're with someone who is also missing them?

And with that, her attention dissipated from him as long glass fingers gathered a mixture of half-dried mud and began shaping it, a little more clumsier. Another few minutes spent in silence. Another flower, plucked into the head of what might have been the mud sculpture of a little man.

-Do you think he's beautiful? asked Toby, thinking that if he's stuck with this confusing girl, he could at least indulge in her antics. He's- quite shapeless, he tried to explain, wondering if he wasn't being a bit too rude.

-Don't be foolish, he's exquisite. He has always been, just needed a little help.

And then again, Toby came to admit to himself that yes, she was quite right. And it all made sense. Didn't he water the flowers in front of the old farmhouse everyday, since they were a seed? And the seed itself, yes, the seed itself was ugly. Or, maybe the seed had some beauty in it too? Toby tried to stop thinking about flowers, as he found it a topic that made his head hurt.

When he came back to his senses, he found the glass silhouette a few steps away from him. He thought it would be polite to ask her if she wants to see the house. After all, she also had the right to live in it just as much as he did, now that the farmers were Gone.

-Would you like to come inside the house? he piped up, trying to get her attention.

Miss Monday didn't respond, but a nod and a glass hand placed on Toby's upper arm was enoughto be taken for a "Yes", so they began leisurely walking. Through the small wheat field, the little forest around the house, and then they were there. The house seemed to cause a certain emotion inside dear Monday, as her entire glass form shook a bit. "Maybe she wasn't fully healed? No this couldn't be it, the process is finished once you come back. It must be something else."

-This is a lovely house, came her voice, softer then ever. You care for it. Do you love it?

-Well, miss, had to admit Toby, I don't think I'm exactly capable of loving- pros and cons of being a scarecrow, you know? -but I do take care of it. Since I don't need food, or to grow animals, I just take care of the house.

-Why wouldn't you be capable of loving? she asked. Who told you this, your heart, your brain? From now on, dear Toby, please try not listening to things- especially organs -that you don't have.

She sat down on the porch, plucked a rounder piece of glass from somewhere on her arm, and tied it with the thin, worn out strip of leather she was wearing around her neck since her statue days. Some weird farm kids placed it there some time ago, remembered Toby.

-Here, have this, she said, and passed the little makeshift necklace to him.

-Why? Toby couldn't stop himself from asking. He'd met other glass shapes before, this was a symbol of friendship, and very important, as glass figures couldn't give out too many, for the glass was vital to them. He'd met Monday only some time ago, and for a boy who lived a pretty lonely life, being considered a friend was quite flustering.

-I just think we'll get along, I like you, shrugged Monday.

And with that, she started walking towards the door. But before she could open it, a sharp pain went through her chest. She remembered, a bag, the field, winter, green scales and an enormous red hat, cigarette smoke enough to make her windpipe close. She used to be asthmatic. And then, nothing. She fell, but didn't hit the floor.

-You alright? Almost shattered your head even more, missus. Your memories must be coming back, right? asked Toby, who somehow managed to get to the door and catch her before she knocked herself out on the ground.

-Well I, yes, I- I think that, they did. Some of them. Horrifically vague, I'm afraid. But still, unexpected, stammered Monday, while being helped to stand. They confused me, more than anything. Could we get inside?

Toby didn't press her anymore. It was clear that something shook her, but memories come with time. She will be alright.

Now, we shall leave these two characters to rest, and explain, just what in the world is going on in here. Surely you must have been confused, at all this talk about coming to life, memories and such. There's no way to make this all sound better. See, if someone were to, well, die, in a traumatic event, or before their time, or just in a circumstance that left a deep mark on their mind, their soul will have moved on, in a vessel that had some tie to them, and will just take their time, to heal, to be well. Dear Toby, for example, was sacrificed. The farmers were mean spirited people, but also poor, so when they were offered an obscene amount of money to hide him somewhere on the farm grounds, they accepted. They had helped with his disappearance, and with many more. This wasn't new. The farmer, the old one, hid his bones in the old scarecrow, waited, as the deal said, 2 years, and then got his money, and promptly left the town with his family. Toby was reported as a missing person case, but wasn't found.

Now, of course, you must be wondering "Did they leave the farm? Abandoned it?" Well, no. Somewhere in this town is hidden a document, saying the farm is left to whoever lives in it when the papers are found, as the old owners already sold their animals, and would have attracted too much attention by selling the farm.

So, now comes the other question. What happened to the farmer? And the rest of his family? Well, the family itself always had a history of spectacular bad luck. What happened to most of them was… accidental. A drunk driving accident, a few uncovered wires, it happens. It's sad, but it happens. But the farmer, oh, the farmer! He, who had a direct hand in so many disappearance cases? He, whose own family didn't miss him, as he wouldn't miss them either? Oh, in his case, They happened. They went through this before. Lady Alligator didn't leave a trace. Scales, an enormous red hat, were what he last saw, and he was Gone. She always took care of these cases. A very discreet private investigator, she was. And still is. Everybody knew her, and the rest of her crew, as a myth. Cryptids. Saying they attacked you was seen like saying you got pickpocketed by the Fresno Nightcrawler. But the police knew some things about them. And, unknowingly, you started being monitored. Because they knew, that They chose their targets carefully. Mistakes have never been made.

#farmer's market #miss monday #mees monday #terrible toby #writers #writer #writing #excerpts from my writing #my writing #writeblr #excerpt from a book i'll never write #writblr #farmers market

[ventrue-rosary]

13 for Amaranthe and Bal? (alternatively the kids ;D)

I’m mashing up these two prompts..well…because I can!

Amaranthe and Autumn are mine. Vander belongs to the asker, Winter and Balthazar to people who aren’t on tumblr

Her mentor prepared her for the difficult life of a blood hunter. Her mother had prepared her for the unpleasant realities facing a ruler. No one prepared her for parenthood.

Of course, common sense tells her caring for not just one, but two newborns would be challenging, to say the least.

But now on her third sleepless night, she was cursing all her mentors in life, all the gods she could name from memory and even herself as she tries to soothe her twins back to sleep. But she is only one woman, and they were two restless and unhappy babies.

‘Please, settle down,’ she whispers, feeling a tear slide down her face. ‘Please just sleep.’

Autumn and Winter finally fall asleep as the sky changes to a pre-dawn grey. Curled up together in their cot, facing one another, she might think it cute were it not for the restless nights they cause.

Amaranthe lingers for a few minutes, just in case they awaken before she silently slips out of their room  into her own, immediately face-planting the bed.

She barely falls asleep when wailing awakens her from the adjacent room. She groans into the pillow, mentally preparing herself to leave the comfort of her bed. She barely registers the shifting of weight on the mattress as Balthazar absconds the bed, entering the twins room. Amaranthe slips back into a deep sleep.

///

‘We need help,’ Balthazar says as she stares listlessy at her breakfast. ‘Amara? Did you hear me?’

She looks up at him from her plate of food. ‘Hm?’

‘I said we need help.’

‘I thought we agreed to raise and care for them ourselves.’ She’s being stubborn, she knows. They are new parents, they need assistance. But she feels oddly jealous of her children. The thought of another woman rocking them to sleep or suckling them at her breast fills her with anger.

‘We did, but we can't do this alone. We should hire a nanny.’

Amaranthe sighs and rubs her exhausted She’s too tired to argue. ‘Alright fine. Well get a nanny.’

As expected, many clamour for the position. Most don't even make it past the Council to secure a meeting with the Queen and Prince-Consort.

One eventually meets them, a striking young woman in a white shirt with a long train, black pants, ash blonde hair and red eyes.

Looking over the documentation of her previous experiences, Amaranthe is nothing short of amazed, though she intends to verify their legitimacy.

‘Your experience is impressive,’ Balthazar remarks. 

‘Yes it almost beggars belief,’ she mutters, placing them aside to give the candidate her full attention. ‘Odile, was it?’

‘Odette,’ she corrects with a saccharine smile.

‘My apologies.’

She shakes her head, still smiling. ‘A Queen apologises to no one. If I may, I just want to say I think it’s very brave what you’re doing.’

‘What do you mean?’

Odette leans forward as though sharing a secret, and she certainly shares a far too generous view of her cleavage, which is certainly not missed by Balthazar.

‘Most parents are too proud to admit they need a little help. I think it's great you realised your limits and reached out for help.’

Amaranthe feels a flicker of irritation that grounds her teeth together.

‘I mean....’ Balthazar leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. ‘We could have totally handled it. If we wanted to.’

Odette grins impishly. ‘Of course.’

‘My Council was impressed by you,’ Amaranthe interjects as the stares linger on each other for a bit longer than she is comfortable with. ‘And your experience speaks for itself. But that doesn't mean you are the ideal candidate. That is something me and my husband will have to discuss. If you wouldn't mind waiting outside.’

‘Oh, of course. Take all the time you need.’

She struts rather than walks across their chamber, the gait drawing attention to her long legs. Amaranthe might just throw up.

Balthazar looks to her with confusion. ‘What's to discuss? She's great.’

‘Oh, please.’ She rises from her chair, her agitated mind agitating her limbs. ‘Did you even listen to a word she said? Or were you too busy staring at her tits?’

‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘You were staring at her, don't deny!’

‘Well yes she was addressing us, what do you expect me to do, stare out the window?’

Amaranthe shakes her head. ‘You know what I mean.’

Balthazar sighs, rounding the table towards. ‘Ok maybe I looked. She has a voluptuous frame, hard to miss.’ He grabs at her dress with a devilish grin. ‘But it’s nothing compared to yours.’

Amaranthe rolls her eyes with a huff.

‘You’re adorable when you're mad, you know that?’

‘And you're an ass.’ Amaranthe wrenches her dress free and snatches Odette’s papers from the table. She turns to Balthazar with a sigh. ‘Well put her on a trial basis while I check to see if these are forgeries or not. When the results come back we’ll make a decision then.’

‘Amara, if she makes you feel uncomfortable--’

‘I’m not a child, don't speak to me like I’m one. Unless I have reason to worry about her presence here?’

‘Of course not! You're being ridiculous.’

‘And you're being insensitive.’ The door slams behind her, ending their debate.

Glancing down each side of the corridor she sees no sign of Odette, but spots the twins door, now ajar. She runs in to Odette bouncing Autumn on her hip, cooing gently to her.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry! I heard this little cutie fussing so I came in to see if I could soothe her. Your children are so adorable. I can tell this little Princess is going to grow into a beauty like her mommy, aren't you?’

Odette continues cooing to Autumn, who babbles in response, grabbing a fistful of her shirt.

‘I think she likes me.’

‘Well, good news: my husband and I decided to give you a trial run. I guess it starts now since you took it upon yourself to tend to my children.’

Odette squeals happily. Autumn tries to replicate the noise. Even in her annoyed state, Amaranthe has to admit its cute.

‘Thank you, I won't let you down.’

‘I hope not.’ Amaranthe gives her children one last lingering look, the loves of her life she is about to leave in the care of a stranger. A qualified one mind, but still a stranger. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to it.’

Odette beams at her, then turns her attention back to the twins, placing Autumn down to pick up Winter. Amaranthe closes the door, and seeks out her spy master.

///

Amaranthe finds Vander in the garden, his usual haunt, playing with Elora. She watches for a few seconds, going unnoticed by the pair until she can wait no longer.

‘Vander?’

He turns to face her, scratching under the chin of the blood hawke perched on his forearm.

‘May I request a favour?’ she continues.

‘Of course, what do you need?’

She holds out the papers of Odette’s past positions. ‘Can you tell me if these are forgeries?’

Vander leafs through them curiously. ‘What’s this for?’

’A new hirling. They would have already been vetted by the Council members but I want  you to double check.’

‘I’ll look into it right now. It shouldn’t take long.’

‘Thank you.’

Vander gives her a nod and steps past her, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She exhales deeply, bitterly recalling her argument. Though still angry, she can hardly stay that way with the father of her children. She checks her reflection in the waters of the fountain. Dark bruises under her eyes, loose, limp hair, and remnants of pregnancy-fat clinging to her waistline. She almost can’t blame his attention being drawn elsewhere. Almost.

Amaranthe dashes the reflection with her fist, and sets off back to their chamber.

///

Balthazar is pacing as she returns wearing a look of deep contemplation and regret. He stops when she enters. They stare at each other for a long time

‘Hey.’

‘Hey.’

More awkward silence.

‘Oh, uh, these are for you.’

He hands her a bouquet of amaranthus, lillies and forget-me-not.s

She smiles, bring the flowers up to her nose to inhale their sweet scent. ‘You picked these for me?’

‘A peace-offering.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Mmhmm.’

She crosses the room to her bedside cabinet, placing the flowers in a vase. ‘I also wanted to apologise.’

‘Oh?’

‘I um, may have overreacted. I shouldn’t have accused you like that. Besides she is beautiful and I’m...’ Her words trail off, stifled by her own shame.

‘You’re what?’

She jumps as she heard his words whispered in her ears, his body only inches from her own. Turning to face him, she sees his eyes staring down at her with a dark, intense look.

‘I--I um...’ She stumbles over her won words as he pulls her close to his body, kissing her gently in the lips as he backs her towards the bed. The back of her knees hits the mattress. Balthazar pushes her down onto it before kissing her passionately as he settles down on top of her.

///

A different sound awakens the sleeping couple that night, a frantic knock on their door. Amaranthe ignores it at first, snuggling down further into Balthazar’s arms. But it sounds again, louder.

With a groan Amara leaves Balthazar’s embrace and the bed, pulling on his discarded shirt as she makes her way to the door.

She opens it to a frantic Vander.

‘Vander, it’s late what--’

‘I looked into what you asked. The documents are not forgeries, but the daughter of each of these families Odette worked for went missing after she left. I--’

Amaranthe doesn't wait around to hear the rest. She sprints towards the nursery, her legs not moving fast enough for the nauseating worry devouring her stomach. Winter wails loudly as she reaches the door, only further panicking her.

She flings open the door. There Odette stands in a revealing white dress, its high slit revealing black stockings. A wide-brimmed hat obscures her scarlet eyes, which flicker up from Autumn to Amaranthe.

‘Figured me out, handsome?’ she calls to Vander, her voice dripping with sex appeal. ‘It matters not. Autumn is mine now.’

‘Put her down and walk away, bitch.’ Amara snarls as her rite flickers down her trembling hands.

‘Are you really in any position to make demands?’ Odette holds one sharp, crimson-painted nail to Autumn’s throat. She wraps her fist around Odette’s finger.

‘You wouldn't dare!’

‘Do you really want to test that, lovely one?’

Vander aims an arrow. ‘There are none more skilled than a bow with me. I bet this arrow could pierce your wicked heart before you could put a scratch on her.’

Odette grins, looking right through Vander. Then she throws up her free arm. Both Amara and Vander are picked up from ground and flung against the wall, Odette’s magic keeping them pinned there. Vander’s arrow, loosed at the moment of impact, flies harmlessly over her shoulder. Both twins are crying loudly now, their cries breaking her heart. She struggles against the magic keeping her pinned, wanting to run to get children and protect them, but she isn’t strong enough.

Odette looks over Amara’s shoulder as thundering footsteps approach.

‘That's my cue to leave. But don't worry, I’ll take good care of her. I’ll be the mother you never could be.’

With a snap of her fingers, Odette vanishes with Autumn. Amaranthe and Vander drop to the ground. Balthazar immediately runs to Amara, helping her to her feet.

‘What happened?’

The shame and guilt keeps her eyes glued to the ground, watching her tears fall onto the carpet.

‘I lost our baby.’ Her words are a broken whisper.

In the surreal silence, as everyone struggles to come to terms with what transpired, Winter cries escalate to screams.

#queerassassinstims #amaranthe darcelle #vander carris #autumn darcelle #winter darcelle #my writing #writing #my OCs #dnd

[doriansbutt]

3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 16, 19, 20, 25 for whoever you feel like talking about!

For Nicos :) under a cut for length wowzers bowsers 

3. What would some of their cutscenes look like?When you talk to him right after getting to Skyhold, he’s cheery and excited about the new base, though he does express his regrets about Haven and will ask how the newly named Inquisitor is holding up.  He’ll be really shaken after Adamant, especially if he was brought along and experienced the Fade. After Halamshiral, he’ll talk about how he really hates the Game and the Inquisitor will have the chance to joke with him about it…4. What would their romance route look like? Would they be romancable?He’ll be available to a male of any race.  He can be just a casual fling or it can become more serious.  It’ll be slow going at first bc of his past and the big kinda setting off point/locking in the romance will be initiated when the Inquisitor tells him he loves/thinks he loves him.  Nicos is gonna freak out and leave.  The Inquisitor can go after him (if he wants the romance to, yknow, be a thing…also if he wants Nicos to still be a companion) and talk to him.  If he chooses to let Nicos stay gone, he’ll do just that and will not be a party member anymore.  If the Inquisitor goes after him, they’ll talk.  Nicos will express his fear about relationships and that he just needed some time to think on his own (and to have his sister tell him he’s being a butthead for running away) and he’ll ask the Inquisitor if he still wants a relationship.  Here’s where the romance gets locked in (or out).  If the Inquisitor says yes, Nicos will say he’s not ready to say the L word yet, but maybe soon.  And shortly after, Nicos becomes more affectionate and open about their closeness and is just a big dork in love.5. If they romanced someone as Inquisitor, would they still fall for that person as a companion? How would that play out? How would they react to that person being romanced by the “new” Inquisitor?If both Nicos and Dorian remain unromanced, they’ll become a thing.  It’ll start on missions and stuff as they share a tent and whatnot (see next question for a lil banter) and yeah that’ll just be a thing.  Cute background boyfriends.  If the Inquisitor romances Dorian, Nicos doesn’t really grow in the relationship sense–meaning he just only has one-night stands and kinda just sleeps his way around Skyhold.

6. Write some of their party banter (in reaction to major events, scenery dialogue, or just shitting around. Askers can specify for which character/event, or leave it up to the writer).Cassandra:                     N: So, Seeker of Truth.  That sounds impressive.                     C: Perhaps.  It is not without merit.                     N: Can you do any cool tricks?                     C: Tricks?  I do not think I would call them tricks, but yes.                     N: You can do tricks, but it’s…not magic, right?                     C: No, the Seekers do not use magic.                      N: Got it.  No magic tricks, then.  So you can’t, like…pull a rabbit out of a hat or anything?                     C: I fail to see how that would be useful.                      N: What if a mage pulled a rabbit out of a hat??                     C: I would like to stuff you into a hat right now.Cassandra (romanced):            N: Ah, isn’t it nice out today, Cassandra?                     C: It is rather warm for once, yes.                     N: The sun is shining, the bees are buzzing, the flowers are blooming. [sighs]                     C: …yes.  It is a lovely day…                     N: And love is in the air.                     C: I don’t know what you’re talking about.                     N: Oh, please.  Look—that flower over there is the color of his eyes, right? C: Stop that….and no, it is not.                     N: See?  This is why he and I could never work.  I can’t even remember the color of his eyes!                     C: [pause, then quietly] that flower there is closer to his shade…Cole:                     C: Why do they call you Nat?  Your name is Nicos.                     N: My initials are N-A-T.  It’s just a nickname.                     C: You wear it like a mask.                     N: That’s…uhm…                     C: Hiding, hoping they don’t ask, it’s simpler if—                     N: Yeah, Nat is simpler than Nicos.  Yep.  That’s why they call me that. C: You’re scared, but they’re your friends.  They won’t hurt you.N: I’m more scared of getting eaten by a bear right now.  Let’s just…focus on the task at hand, okay?Dorian (if Inquisitor is not in a romance with either):                     D: I heard you fell asleep outside again the other night.                     N: Oh?  Oh, yeah.  It was comfortable, no worries.                     D: Truly?  Is that why you kept stretching your neck the next day?     N: No one disturbed me.  No one shoved me out of the tent in the middle of the night.  No one complained I was taking up too much space and he simply had to look his best so ‘let him get some beauty sleep’.                     D: I was drunk and you rolled on top of me.  These tents are small enough without your bulk taking up half of it.                     N: Uh, huh, right.  If you hate it that much, you can sleep outside next time. Dorian (romanced by Inquisitor):                     N: You know—                     D: No.  Don’t want to hear it.                     N: What?  Oh, come on.  I’m sure there’s some things you haven’t tried.       D: No, this is not up for discussion.                     N: Why?  You never know!  He might like it!                     D: I appreciate the offer, but I can do just fine on my own, thank you.             N: Fine, fine, have it your way.  I just think there’s more ways to—                 D: Sweet Maker…Cassandra: Please…stop talking.                      Bull: I liked where this was going.                      Sera: You can tell me, Nicos!                      Blackwall: Someone muzzle him…                      Varric: [chuckles] Time and place, Pup…                      Vivienne: Like a child…                      Solas: Some things should remain secret…                      Cole: …He was talking about your hair.

7. What would be on their tombstone in the fade (what is their greatest fear)?idk how to really phrase it but he’s just afraid of his father being proven right in his beliefs about Nic’s “lifestyle” aka his dad is horribly homophobic and so nic deals with a lot of internalized homophobia and he’s scared his dad was right about everything?8. What kind of Inquisitor would drive them to leave the Inquisition/confront them about their actions (what gets their approval low? what does that scene look like)?Someone cruel, someone who doesn’t care about the little guys, someone selfish…also someone who keeps prodding again and again about his past and not respecting his privacy in that situation. And the scene is just the Inquisitor finding out that Nic and his merc company just up and left without word.  They’re just gone.9. Where in Skyhold would they be found? (e.g. Cole is in the tavern rafters, Leliana in the top of the tower, Varric in the throne room, etc.)In the tower that later becomes either the mage or Templar tower.  Before it’s fixed up, he’ll be up top, watching the horizon.  Afterwards, he’ll be inside interacting with desks or bookshelves, etc.11. How would they grow as a person? How would they compare at the end of the Inquisition as a companion to who they were as the Inquisitor?As a companion, he learns that he’s not wrong.  He meets and befriends all sorts of different people, some a lot like him, and that really helps him.  There’s people just like him and there’s people who accept him for him and they’re all living their lives and doing good so he can too.  There’s not much difference between romanced companion!Nicos and Inquisitor!Nicos.  If he wasn’t romanced (or there’s no background romance with Dorian), he’s kinda a little more hardened.  He believes that he’s never gonna be more than a one-night stand in the “romance” department, that he’s just kind of a plaything so if there’s no romance, he keeps that attitude.12. Do they believe the Herald of Andraste is really the Herald of Andraste?Nah.  He doesn’t really believe in the Maker, so by extension he doesn’t really believe in Andraste?  He won’t like discourage an Andrastian/faithful Inquisitor, though.16. What would the Fear Demon say to them in the Fade to try and discourage them?Basically just anything about his father or the people who really messed him up when he was 18…just telling him he’s wrong for who he is.19. Once Corypheus is beaten, what do they do during the party? Do they stay with the Inquisition, or go somewhere else? What could the Inquisitor do to convince them to stay?He’ll stay with the Inquisition for a while (permanently if romanced). His merc company will move on eventually, once they find a new job now that they’re done helping save the world and shit.  If he’s not romanced, he’ll plan to join them when they leave.  If he is romanced, by either the Inquisitor or Dorian, he’ll stay and follow them wherever.20. How do they react to learning abominations can retain their consciousness and identity, and even live peacefully with their spirits/demons, as seen in Stone-Bear Hold?He’s definitely confused.  He doesn’t understand like basic magic, it’s just not something he can easily wrap his head around, so finding this out really just kinda leaves him very confused.25. In the alternate reality, if they were corrupted with lyrium, how do they act? What’s their attitude about the end of the world/their inevitable death?He feels an odd sense of bravery.  He knows he’s gonna die soon, one way or another.  There’s no hope for him, but he can go out guns blazing so to speak, so he’ll do whatever it takes.

#nicos trevelyan #companion nicos #headcanon #kinda #my oc #holy long wow #erlkonigstochter