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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Sooo I know I’m abusing the power you gave me (let me send prompts) but I’ve a very good reason, I promise (I’ve Nie brothers feelings and I love your writing) and I need to ask for this “5 times everyone realises that actually NMJ is the pushover in the Nie brothers relationship bc let’s be honest NMJ let’s NHS get away with everything and every time NMJ tries to get NHS to do something he has to bribe him with fans or resign himself to never get that done” and I find that hilarious :p

“Your sons have quite a good relationship, Sect Leader Nie,” Jiang Fengmian remarked, but the man didn’t look especially impressed by the compliment.

“Especially given that they’re half-brothers,” Jin Guangshan added, and Jiang Fengmian sighed internally: the addition made the original statement into a taunt, which hadn’t been what he meant at all. “Rare to see such a good relationship in such cases.”

“Would you know?” Wen Ruohan asked, smiling poisonously. “And here I thought you had only one.”

“I’ve tasted pork; I don’t need to know how to butcher a pig. Look at how the older one lets the younger one around follow him around everywhere – certainly I wouldn’t have tolerated such a thing for one so much younger than me.”

“I always liked playing with others,” Jiang Fengmian said mildly. “The bigger the family, the better, in my view…it’s nice to help and be helped.”

“I don’t think the infant being carried around is doing that much helping,” Lan Qiren observed.

“And yet he’s clearly the one calling the shots,” Wen Ruohan mused, his eyes settling on the field where the two were playing – or rather, the toddler was demanding a ride and his older brother complying. “Given how stiff-necked the Nie family is, traditionally, it must be very reassuring to you, Sect Leader Nie, to see your son so – compliant.”

Sect Leader Nie abruptly changed the subject.

Later, he came to Jiang Fengmian, an expression of fury on his face. “It’s not any of my business, so I don’t care what’s going on with your search for that servant of yours and his family,” he said icily. “But I’ll thank you to focus on rearing your own children, and stop drawing unwanted attention to mine.”

Jiang Fengmian felt rather unjustly accused. It was true, he’d been thinking of Wei Changze’s son – of how well he’d get along with his own A-Cheng, if only Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren could be convinced to stop traveling around and come home for a little – but there was no reason for old Nie to be so snippy. There had only been the five great sect leaders around; what was he so worried about?

“You can’t be serious,” Lan Xichen said, pressing his lips together to try to restrain his laughter and altogether incapable of restraining his smile.

His smile only grew when Nie Mingjue’s shoulders rose up somewhere around his ears in embarrassment.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” he replied stiffly, and then he actually bought the – product.

Lan Xichen managed to hold himself back as they continued down the shopping street, and finally when they were back on the unoccupied path back to the Unclean Realm he let out a peal of laughter.

Nie Mingjue shot him a sidelong glare.

“Little Huaisang has you completely under his thumb,” Lan Xichen laughed. “You’re always buying him things, every time I see you – if it’s not new fans to add to his collections, it’s another animal for his little menagerie –”

“It’s not a menagerie.”

“He has a half-dozen birds, a mated pair of pangolins, and that – that beast you got for him –”

“The boar?” Nie Mingjue asked. “I didn’t buy that, I found it, and anyway the plan is to release it back onto the mountain once it gets a little larger.”

Lan Xichen waved his hand, dismissing Nie Mingjue’s little technicalities. “All that’s fair enough,” he says, laughter still in his voice and his eyes still curved up into crescents. “I would buy Wangji anything he liked, if only he had more hobbies. But even I would draw the line at purchasing my little brother erotic art.”

“He likes it,” Nie Mingjue said defensively.

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Lan Xichen said, trying to move his eyebrows suggestively like he’d seen someone do once. Judging from Nie Mingjue’s mildly horrified expression, he wasn’t successful. “Still, don’t you think you’re sending him mixed messages? On one hand, you’re always yelling at him about not practicing his saber enough, and on the other you’re spoiling him rotten –”

“He hasn’t formed a golden core yet,” Nie Mingjue said abruptly, and Lan Xichen’s smiled faded. “Yes, still. It’s late, no matter what standard you hold him to – forget the Great Sects, forget regular sects, even by the children of rogue cultivators usually have the basics of a core by now.”

Lan Xichen didn’t know what to say. Lan Wangji had formed his core very early, earliest out of all his generation in fact – he had never had to worry about his brother’s cultivation, not once.

He wanted to tell his friend not to worry, that it would come in time, that Nie Huaisang would catch up…but he was right, it was late. In another year, they would be sending out invitations for select people to come study at the Cloud Recesses, where Nie Huaisang had been a few times before, but this time would be the first time all the sect heirs were in a single place.

If he didn’t have his core by then, there was a chance he’d never get it. That he’d live only the short life of a common person, shorter even than the shortened life of a Nie cultivator –

That Nie Mingjue would have to watch his baby brother grow old and send him off first.

“So I buy him things,” Nie Mingjue concluded with shrug that was anything but casual. “More things than he needs. If he finally forms a core, there’ll be time enough then to teach him discipline – and if he doesn’t, well. At least he’ll be happy for the few years he’ll have.”

“The answer is still no,” Nie Mingjue said, just he had said the first few times, and without paying the slightest attention to the table Jiang Cheng had just overturned.

“Why not?” Jiang Cheng snarled, incensed. “If we join forces together and win, we’ll strike a blow against the Wens that will be felt across the land –”

“And if we lose, the damage will be incalculable,” Nie Mingjue said, unmoved. He didn’t look up from the correspondence he was reviewing. “We didn’t come here expecting to find a Wen stronghold; neither of us brought enough people. No.”

Jiang Cheng sneered. “We didn’t bring enough people, no, but there are enough at hand if there weren’t exceptions being made.”

Nie Mingjue paused and finally put down the letter, turning to look at Jiang Cheng. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Nie Huaisang isn’t that far away, with plenty of cultivators acting as guards at his side,” Jiang Cheng said, crossing his arms. “If you summoned them, we’d have enough to tip the scales in our favor. But you don’t, just because he doesn’t feel like fighting – why do you let him walk all over you?!”

Nie Mingjue looked at him for a long moment, his gaze dark and angry.

Jiang Cheng began to feel as if he’d made a mistake, but it was too late to retract his harsh words.

“Very well,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jiang Cheng began to brighten. “I’ll write to Meishan while I’m at it; your sister can come bring along the ones who are guarding her, too.”

Jiang Cheng blanched. “You can’t! Jiejie can’t –”

“Why not? Her cultivation is mediocre, but no more so than my brother’s,” Nie Mingjue said, and he was very angry. “Or are you going to say that she’s the only one left in your family but you? That you don’t want the Wens to have a chance to take even more of your family away? Isn’t all that just as true for me?!”

Jiang Cheng hung his head.

“We’re fighting this war to win it,” Nie Mingjue said. “There’s no point in winning if we lose everything on the way. Get out and talk a walk; I don’t want to see you until you’ve beaten some sense into that thick head of yours.”

“Da-ge, you know you can’t keep the secret of the saber spirits from Huaisang forever,” Jin Guangyao said, and his voice was reasonable as it always was – calm and even and to the point, just the way that Nie Mingjue had liked so much when he’d been his deputy.

The tone mostly just irritated Nie Mingjue now – but then, most things did, these days.

“I’m aware of that,” Nie Mingjue said, scowling. His fingers were pressing at his temples – another headache, it seemed. They were happening more and more these days, and that didn’t help the quality of his temper one bit. “He doesn’t need to know all the details yet. He’ll have to bear the burden eventually, but – not yet.”

Jin Guangyao chuckled. “You always let what he wants make decisions for you, da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue ignored him. That was normal, too.

“Let me play for you again, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao said, and his smile broadened. “It might help your headache.”

Wei Wuxian was of the opinion that disturbing the unquiet corpses that had been sealed in the Guanyin Temple in Yunping City was a terrible idea, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices when politics became an issue. The once-more-ascendant-Nie-sect-is-asking-only-somewhat-politely sort of politics.

Every once in a while, Wei Wuxian cursed Nie Mingjue in the back of his mind. Surely, if he hadn’t spoiled Nie Huaisang so much, he wouldn’t have become so demanding – so insistent!

(So incredibly good at finding just the right weak spot to press on…!)

“Your brother is still going to be a fierce corpse when we open that thing,” he said. “You know that, right? He didn’t recognize you then, he won’t recognize you now – he’s an extremely powerful fierce corpse, which is going to make it very hard to control him right away. There’s a great deal of danger involved in being here.”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “I appreciate the warning, Wei-xiong.”

“In light of that,” Wei Wuxian continued. “Don’t you think you should watch from further away?”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Wei Wuxian sighed and lifted Chenqing to his lips, nodding at Lan Wangji, and together they set about unsealing the tomb.

Nie Mingjue’s corpse was just as overwhelming as he remembered, bursting out of the tomb a few moments before they expected it, and the backlash was enough to make Wei Wuxian, with his weak golden core in this life, cough up blood, which in turn made Lan Wangji stop everything to look at him, which meant that there was nothing between Nie Mingjue’s outstretched fingers, curled into claws, and Nie Huaisang, standing there with nothing but a fan in hand.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to – he didn’t know what, to try something to save someone who really had once been his friend, however he’d ended up and whatever he’d done, and who he still rather liked and who’d had pretty good reasons for things and who at any rate he didn’t want to see dead at the hands of his own brother –

Nie Mingjue’s clawed fingers stopped only a hair’s breadth away from Nie Huaisang’s head.

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught in his throat.

A moment passed, and then another – and then the direction of Nie Mingjue’s hand shifted, and he ran his fingers through Nie Huaisang’s hair with a delicacy that Wei Wuxian, an expert on all things resentful energy, had never thought a white-eyed fierce corpse was capable of.

Nie Huaisang smiled, content. “Da-ge has always let me get away with everything.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jiang fengmian #jin guangshan #wen ruohan #lan xichen #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #your prompt was very fluffy but the end result turned out not to be #sorry #timetomakeanewwish

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alex-ruins-everything · 3 years

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Turning Pages - Chapter 8

Intrulogical bookshop au! Read the whole thing on ao3 here.

Remus had really tried not to be stalker-y when he texted Virgil for Logan’s work hours that morning. He just wanted to surprise the cute boy who had been filling his thoughts up! And it had worked, because here Logan was letting him drag him out for dinner. Not only that...but Logan trusted him! It made his gay little heart sing.

“A diner?” Logan questioned as they sat down in a booth. The place was mostly deserted despite it being peak season on the boardwalk. Luckily their home town was just far enough from the water to not be a tourist trap.

“My favorite diner. It...used to be better, but the owner died a while ago and his daughter didn’t wanna inherit the place. But she did. At least she kept the staff because Ed in the back knows how to make a killer burger,” Remus explained with a grin. “You wore your new tie today.”

“I did, and though it was mostly hidden behind the apron, it was a somewhat nice change to my usual rounds of blue ties,” Logan said, looking over the menu with slight distrust. “I saw you and Cthuwu had a wonderful day together. I liked the pictures you updated me with throughout the day.”

“I’m glad! I took him to meet Jan and Jan’s snakes, and then him and I went on a ride and I’m immensely happy he didn’t fall off the back of the bike. He’s in the saddle bag now, napping I imagine. It’s been a long day for a little stuffed octopus.”

“You’re quite good at giving personalities to inanimate objects,” Logan observed, deciding he was just going to get whatever Remus got since the other clearly knew the place better.

“Yeah, it’s a skill of mine.”

“Is this akin to an average day of yours? Just...filling your time with whatever you want to do?”

“Well. yeah. I’m not a college person, and I’ve hit a wall with the latest piece I’ve been working on. Apparently being an artist is just as bad as being a writer when it comes to creative blocks…”

“You’re an artist?” Logan asked with a small smile. “I should have known. You had paint smeared on your cheek when you came to Patton’s book reading. I assumed you were just messy.”

“Well, I am messy, but absolutely, Loganberry. I’ll show you my stuff sometime. I can never pick a medium, so it’s pretty inconsistent.”

“Somehow that does fit in with your, ah…’vibe’. Did I use that correctly?”

“Sure did, babes,” Remus winked.

The waiter came over to take their orders and Remus put his in for a bacon cheeseburger and asked for a note to be put down for Ed in the back that it was him. Logan asked for the same thing, just with no tomatoes.

“You got a tomato vendetta?” Remus asked with a chuckle.

“Awful texture. Slimy goo with little seeds inside...I cannot stand them,” Logan replied, scrunching his nose up.

“Aw...you’re adorable, you know that?” Remus said, leaning forward on his hands.

“Oh, well…” Logan’s cheeks started to turn pink. “I suppose if you find a hatred of Solanum lycopersicums adorable then, yes.”

“Solanum...I have no clue what you said, but I certainly liked the way you said it,” Remus grinned. “Though your hatred of tomatoes isn’t the sexiest thing about you, it certainly makes the list.”

“Well, now you’re just flirting.”

“Yes,” Remus laughed. “Have been for a while, but thank you for finally noticing, Specs.”

“Oh, apologies. I’m not the best at picking up on such things.” “I noticed” Remus smiled. “But it’s okay. According to many people, I never know when to shut the fuck up or tone it down, so we both suck.”

“You’ve been quite good thus far, I hadn’t noticed. Well, except when you screamed in the bookshop. That was rather crass.”

“That bookshop,” Remus smiled fondly. “Do you wanna tell me what’s up with you and that bookshop? I can tell you really love that place. There has to be a story there, right?”

“A story? Hardly. I simply did not connect with my peers as a child, and as a result I spent most of my time in Mr. Sanders’ shop and then started working there when I was of age,” Logan shrugged. “I find the shop comforting, and I am in charge when Mr. Sanders goes away, which is quite often actually. But I don’t mind. The bookshop makes me happy.”

“That’s totally a story, babes,” Remus chuckled, nodding a thanks as their food was brought out. Nothing special, exactly what you would expect from a run down diner, though a bottle of hot sauce was placed on the table right after which he happily grabbed. “And it’s cute. It’s nice that you have something like that.”

“Do you have a metaphorical - or physical - bookshop?” Logan asked, taking the ketchup bottle from the end of the table. Seems his hatred of tomatoes only applied to solid ones.

“Do I have a thing that makes me happy?” Remus asked. “I dunno. Lots of stuff. I like riding my motorcycle and watching horror movies...and visiting Duke at the aquarium. Painting, Halloween, going to the Renaissance fair with Ro...all those are things that make me happy.”

“Those are valid, but I meant in a larger sense,” Logan said. “For example, at the bookshop I feel as if I have a purpose which is psychologically very important for humans. I suppose I’m asking if you feel as though you have something that gives you that.”

“Pretty deep for second date conversation,” Remus said, smile faltering for a moment as he looked down at his food.

“Apologies, I did not-”

“No, no. It’s all good,” he assured. “I’m not one to really keep secrets or anything. I just...don’t. Have a purpose that is. I’m workin’ on finding it, but nothing ever really seems to fit right. Y’know? And, hey, I’m a lucky enough person to be able to try stuff out until I find a fit. Not everyone has that luxury.”

Logan nodded, giving Remus a slight smile. “That’s okay, I’m certain you’ll find your metaphorical bookshop one day.”

“Thanks, Lo,” Remus replied, expression softening at the other for a moment before he took a deep breath. “Okay! Okay, pro tip here...douse everything in hot sauce. You’ll thank me.”

Logan did not douse everything in hot sauce, he claimed he wasn’t a fan of spicy foods. Remus was, though, and did just what he had suggested. They talked more about what they each did in their free time, and Remus really found he liked spending time with Logan. He was cute, sure...but he was adorable on the inside too. Remus was definitely developing more than a crush on Mr. Berry. When the time came to pay he covered the check without a second thought.

“We could have split it,” Logan said after he had paid.

“Why? This is a date. I wanted to pay,” Remus shrugged, looking outside. It was sunset. “Wanna go for a beach walk? You said you could tolerate sand.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Logan said, looking out to the beach. “Very well. We can go for a walk.”

Remus grinned, standing up the second his card was handed back and taking Logan’s hand which he noticed got another pink cheeked reaction from the nerd. They headed down to the beach, walking along the edge of the water, far enough away that nobody’s shoes would get wet. The summer nights were quite chilly on the shore, so the beach wasn’t terribly full. Remus only let go of Logan’s hand to go chase some seagulls, regretting the choice when the seagulls chased him back. Birds had been doing that a lot to him lately, there must be an anti-Remus bird conspiracy going. That was what he explained to Logan as he grabbed the other’s hand and fled from the birds. Their walk ended as the sun was gone from below the horizon with them both slightly out of breath and back at Remus’ motorcycle.

“In my defense...they usually don’t chase back,” he explained.

“It would seem this time they did,” Logan replied, brushing a hand through his hair to keep it neat. “But...that was certainly exhilarating in it’s own way. I can’t say I’ve ever run from seagulls before.”

“First time for everything,” Remus laughed, meeting Logan’s eye.

And, shit. He wanted to kiss Logan. He really wanted to kiss Logan. It would be so easy, just lean forward and smooch...but it was their second date and what if Logan didn’t want to kiss him.

“Remus, are you alright?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah. Totally, Specs,” Remus said, pulling himself out of that moment. “C’mon, let's get you home.”

“Yes, home seems good. I forget the sun goes down quite late sometimes,” Logan said, taking his borrowed helmet when it was offered to him. “I’m actually starting to somewhat enjoy riding the motorcycle with you.”

“Well, good! I like riding with you too, mon amour.”

Remus shoved his own helmet onto his head, getting on the bike and starting it as Logan climbed onto the back. He smiled when he felt the other’s arms secure around his waist and headed off. He parked outside of Logan’s building, getting off after Lo to say a proper goodbye.

“I will see you next time I see you,” Remus said, taking Logan’s helmet back with a smile. “I had fun on our spontaneous little date.”

Logan seemed to ponder for a moment before taking a deep breath and speaking, “Would you like to come up for some tea? I usually have a cup to relax around this time anyway...and I have lots of tea…”

“Heh, sure, Loganberry. I’ll come up for some tea,” Remus smiled, taking Logan’s hand again and following him inside.

TAGLIST:

@theiwatobiicepic

#alex-writes-everything #turning pages #sanders sides #intrulogical #prinxiety #moceit #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders

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sonickedtrowel · 3 years

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oh.. River/Eleven with 25 - things you said in the back seat of a cab. If it sparks anything for you that'd be amazing, in my head it's at least a little steamy

Hey, so I write very very slow! But I wrote this!! I went back and forth over how horny on main I wanted to be, deleting and rewriting the steamy part, and decided I’ll just put part of it here and link to ao3 for anyone who wants to read the rest 😂 Tbh it might be pushing explicit a tiny bit more than I normally do even though it’s brief so I had to put it behind a link lol.

Somebody say old Eleven young River? Just me? Oh well! Thank you for the prompt!!!

the whole thing on ao3

“Oh, here,” River said, waving to an approaching car on the street, “let’s catch a cab.”

“Don’t you want to walk?” asked the Doctor, sliding his arm around her back. “It’s a beautiful night!”

It was a lovely evening. Spring on Luna always was; it helped that the weather was engineered. It was breezy and warm, the air sweet with the scent of blossoming trees. But after dinner at the sort of restaurant that essentially required time travel to get a booking, River found walking back to the hall of residence a much less appealing proposition.

“I’ve got two hearts, sweetie, not two stomachs. If you want to walk home, you can pick a place with fewer courses next time.”

The Doctor amiably relented, dropping a kiss on her head as he turned to the cab, which had paused on the side of the street. In the 51st century they were sleek, shiny things, all black with tinted glass and a domed roof. “What is that one, a Lunar Link?” he asked. “They’re all autopilot in this decade, aren’t they?”

“All the ones I’ve seen. Why?”

“No reason.” He cleared his throat, opening the door for her to step inside. As he clambered in after her, he quickly produced the sonic from his pocket and aimed it at the control panel.

“Dodging the fare?” River asked as he shut the door. “That’s usually my area.”

“Um, no. Scrambling the CC feed and facial recognition.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly, and he sighed. “Let’s just say we’re… no longer welcome in several of these companies’ cabs.”

She let out a burst of delighted laughter. “And you’re always telling me to keep out of trouble!”

“Because I’ve seen the trouble first-hand!”

“Sounds like you were more participating than observing.”

“Yes, well. You’re a terrible influence,” he grumbled, with poorly disguised fondness.

“In that case,” she said, grasping him by the lapel, “far be it from me to break with tradition.”

“See?” The Doctor smiled as she tugged him closer. “Terrible.”

He hummed contentedly as his lips met hers, and a shiver went through River’s body. She’d just about gotten over being embarrassed by how easily he could disarm her. Imagine, if she’d killed him with just one fleeting brush of her lips, a mockery of a kiss, and never experienced the real thing. What a dreadful waste that would have been.

They were interrupted all too soon by a series of chirping beeps and a polite, slightly robotic voice requesting, “Please input your destination.” They breathlessly broke apart, and the Doctor fumbled for his sonic, buzzed it at the control panel once more, and was already turning back to her as the cab pulled into the street. Their smiling mouths crashed together somewhat messily in their eagerness, and then his arms were around her, his hand under her hip, pulling her to him. River went along gladly, throwing her leg over his hip and settling in his lap.

“Destination?” she asked, brushing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Taking the long way round.” He lifted his hand to her face, tipping her chin up to kiss her properly.

She sighed happily. “Have you always been this agreeable?”

“No,” the Doctor said, his laughing breath fanning over her cheek and sending another shiver down her spine. “And if— god forbid— you run into me when I’m young anytime soon, I’d appreciate it if you tried not to give me any heart attacks.”

“Mmm. I bet you’d like it.”

“Well, yeah, but don’t tell me that.”

She laughed against his lips as he kissed her again, winding her arms around his neck. His hand splayed over her back, keeping her close, while the other lingered against her jaw, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. He always touched her with a tenderness that seemed tinged with desperation; as though she might disappear if he dared to let go. He hardly had to worry. She didn’t want to be anywhere else.

It had been a few months now of settling into life on Luna, settling into being River Song, and beginning to learn her way around their life together, such as it was. Months of leaving her last lecture each Friday afternoon to find him waiting with flowers and dinner plans or an exploding planet they just couldn’t miss. It was good to escape into the wider universe, chasing some danger and excitement after a long week of lectures and essays and pretending to tolerate undergraduates. But this was better.

River wondered if the novelty of being wildly in love would ever wear off. It was her first time with anything like this, after all, and she felt a little at sea sometimes, unsure of what she should expect. If it would ever stop being so intoxicatingly good, and just be… normally pleasant. But the Doctor was much older. And judging by the way her insides melted at the pressure of his hands gripping her hips, the warmth of his breathing over her skin, the soft curve of his tongue behind her teeth— well, it seemed the honeymoon period wasn’t about to end anytime soon.

And that was another thing, she reflected as she fumbled blindly with the buttons on his trousers. There was something very settled about him, too. Something that was just solid: comfortable and trusting and content with her. She couldn’t seem to stop wondering, particularly after her latest bit of research, exactly what the nature of that settledness was.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. She’d barely broken away from his lips when she blurted, “Are we married?”

“What?” The Doctor blinked at her, dazed. In his defence, she did have her hand in his pants.

“Are we married?” she repeated. “I think it’s a reasonable question, in the circumstances.”

His eyebrows lifted and he shook his head slightly, huffing out a breath as he pushed his hair out of his face. “River, you know I can’t tell you.”

“I found a book that says we’re married.”

He groaned, his head collapsing back onto the seat. “I’m sure I’ve told you not to do that.”

“Also found a book that says I’ve killed you,” she added thoughtfully. “Which, in fairness, I did. But the place and the date are wrong.”

“See? A whole lot of nonsense, so no point in filling your head with it.”

“But once you’ve read your own personal future— once you’ve been told what it is, doesn’t it have to happen?”

“Only if it’s true. We’re not all beholden to the prophecies of gossip magazines.” He sat up again, wrapping his arms around her as he began to press warm, lingering kisses to her face, her neck, her shoulder. River stifled a whimper as his parted lips lingered on her throat, sending a ripple of want throbbing through her body as her mind filled with everywhere else she’d like him to put that sweet, soft mouth. Oh, he was far too good at distracting her. Well, she supposed technically she was the one distracting them this time; they’d been busy when she was overcome with the need to question him.

“And is it true?” she stubbornly persisted.

The Doctor lifted his head and watched her silently for a moment, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back. “I asked you, once,” he said at last. “Well, I asked if you were married. May have sort of accidentally proposed in the process.”

“Accidentally?”

“I was young.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“The truth,” he laughed, shaking his head and looking at her with such aching affection. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Because once you knew, it had to happen that way?”

“No, not quite. River, the important things— they’re up to us. We always have a choice.”

She looked him over consideringly. “You don’t have a wedding ring.”

“No,” he agreed after a moment, fiddling with his bow tie as he glanced out the window.

“But you could just take it off when you come to see me, since it would be a bit of a giveaway.”

“River,” the Doctor said wearily, “you really need to stop. It’s all spoilers.” When she didn’t object, he pulled her closer, his hand cradling the back of her head.

“Would you even want to be married?” she asked, just before he could kiss her.

He exhaled, patiently studying her face. “Generally speaking, or to you specifically?”

“Is the answer different?”

“Yes.”

River swallowed, her hearts nervously fluttering. “Either I should be insulted, or you’re showing your hand a bit, Doctor,” she said softly.

“Well, I’ll leave that to your judgement, dear,” he murmured, and she finally stopped interrogating him long enough for him to kiss her.

#dr fic #dw fic #the doctor/river song #eleven/river #river song #eleventh doctor #yeeting myself into the sun now #dont read this i said a la elliot #idek why i just had to use a Noun and i'm suffering #travelwithmethen

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cosmicbash · 4 years

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@friendshipfisting requested some grumpy Em at the beach while chatting and I got a little bit carried away writing dorky fluff so-

You lucky heathens are getting a huge prompt drop. Hope you enjoy~

(This is long enough I could post it to ao3 if someone wants to come up with a title ahah)

Marshall hated beaches. He always had, they were just always so overcrowded whenever he tried going. And huge clusters of people did nothing but stress him out, even before he got famous and all those claustrophobic fears of a crowd closing in on him suddenly became a reality.

When he was younger and getting absolutely trashed everyday it was easier to deal with. The combination of pills and booze kept him mellow enough that he could even throw himself into a crowd at his own concerts. Helped build up somewhat of a tolerance for whenever he got up on stage.

Outside of performing however? They were still an absolute nightmare that made his stomach twist up into knots. A brief pass through, and maybe a few stops to meet and greet fans he could handle. But actively plopping himself into the hot sandy clusterfuck known as a public beach? That was the furthest thing from fun or relaxing that he could think of.

Luckily living in the middle of Detroit meant he was mostly free of dealing with said landscape.

So why in the hell was he struggling to get comfortable on some stiff itchy wooden beach chair, with the ocean loudly looming not very far away?

"The wave's are freaking perfect today-" Colson was beaming a smile at him, almost as blinding as the sun resting behind his pretty wet head. The lighting ironically formed a halo around the self proclaimed rap devil. It made Marshall want to snort. "You should seriously come in."

"I'm perfectly fine right here." Under the safety of his umbrella, above the hazardous hot sand. And most importantly far away from the heavy crashing waves.

Swimming wasn't his best skill either, afterall there was not much need to swim when you avoided the beach. Sure he could wade in a pool and float on his back if needed, but moving, rushing water was a completely different ballgame.

"You're such a drag," Colson's eyes rolled, long legs kicking up sand while he crossed the distance between them. He was still dripping water all over the place, stray droplets splashing onto Marshall's legs when he loomed ever closer to the chair.

Reflexively the older man tucked his notebook away in the nearby bag, knees pulling up so he could resituate himself. Legs crossing indian style to give the brat a place to sit.

Marshall couldn't care less about being a "drag", he'd been very vocal about his displeasure with the whole idea of wasting a day at the beach. For once he'd taken over the role of bitchy pushover. Spending most of the night before and morning of their trip muttering under his breath, listing all the reasons why it was such a stupid idea. But still going through with the process of booking and reserving a secluded spot for them on some remote beach.

The only reason he'd put up with it at all was for the younger rapper's sake, something which he hoped Colson could actually learn to appreciate. It wasn't common for him to concede like this, but it was only fair. "You enjoying choking on salt water and burning your skin?"

The tall blonde dropped down with a hard plop, legs bouncing to disturb more sand while the beach chair creaked. The bitter question didn't seem to phase his good mood one bit. "Yupp! Loving it. I've missed the beach, I was starting to look like a ghost."

More water splattered against Marshall's ankles, had his skin twitching. "One more big wave like earlier and you might be one-" The brunette was thankful he had shades on, just recalling the moment only a half hour prior when a huge wave had suddenly crashed down and disappeared his partner made his face curl up. It had been a genuinely terrifying minute of watching and waiting for Colson's soaked head to reappear above the water. One that nearly had him leaving his tiny sanctuary to pound down the length of sand separating him from the water.

Thankfully the younger rapper had resurfaced, farther out then when he'd been hit. Laughter visible even from his distance with the hard shake of the boys shoulders and wide smile.

"What? That was nothing, you should've seen how big some of the waves over in the Bahama's could get. Now those, those could totally sweep you out to sea."

Clicking his tongue Marshall gave a swift nod, fingers prying open their small cooler to dig out a cold bottle of water. "I'll take your word for it." The last thing he needed was for the kid to get a Bahama's vacation plan into his head.

Colson sighed dramatically, upper body dropping down to drape over the older man's lap. Inciting a string of curses and half hearted shoves from how the action left water soaking through his shorts. "A little bit of sun and water isn't gonna kill you old man, you look ridiculous all bundled up here in your shirt and hat. Like some horrible undercover pap who's hiding a camera in his beach bag."

The observation was accompanied by a soft laugh and long fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, trailing up along his jaw to flick his hat.

Marshall's teeth set in a line. "What, you want me stripped down streaking across the beach? Tattoos and dick free for an actual reporter to see?"

The chance of some paparazzo being nearby was slim to none, they both knew that. Marshall had gone out of his way to rent the accompanying two beaches on either side despite the small cliffs between them. There was noone other than their own mix of security teams for miles. The only chance someone was getting a shot of either of them was with a drone.

In theory Marshall could strip down and dance about the beach all he wanted, grab Colson by his skinny waist and fuck him down into the sand until he was choking on a seashell. He was fully confident in his team.

That didn't mean any of that sounded remotely tempting however.

"Maybe not running across the beach," Colson snickered body twisting until he was lying with the back of his head against the older man's crotch. Arms curled up over his head so he could lightly grip onto his sides and stretch the rest of his body out. "A slow sensual walk towards the water sounds a lot better. Would give me something really great to look at."

The harsh tug on wet blonde locks barely elicited a reaction. "If your hoping for a full moon tonight you're gonna be disappointed. News called for clouds-" It was easier to deflect from the brats flirting then reward him with a proper response.

"With how your pants sag I'm guaranteed at least a half moon before sundown." This time Marshall was the one sighing, head shaking while he rubbed his temples. Colson of course looked beyond pleased with his joke, damp hands rubbing up over the front of his shirt to lightly massage his shoulders. "Unless your planning on dressing correctly for once while we walk the shoreline."

"Who said anything about walking along the shoreline? When did I agree to that?"

"What, we're gonna have a beach date and not enjoy the sunset together? It's no wonder you've been divorced twice." The light teasing had Marshall snorting despite himself. Palm pushing his sunglasses up off his face and much to his partner's delight knocking away his sunhat.

"Actually I let Kim's other boyfriends worry about the mushy shit like that, last time I went to a beach with her she left me passed out along the shoreline while the tide was rising." The memory had him chuckling quietly to himself while his gaze trailed along with white shoreline. "Fucking bitch almost let me drown all because I snorted her share of coke."

"Jesus-" Colson's lips burst apart in a laugh. Palms leaving the older rapper's shoulders to cup his neck instead. "Hope she at least cleaned your pockets out before she left-"

The suggestion had Marshall's gaze dropping back down, lips quirking up into a smirk while his fingers raked through Colson's knotted hair. "You'd think so right? Damn bitch swiped my wallet and forgot the motel's key card. Came back to wake my half submerged ass up and bitch how hard of a time I was giving her- like- fuck me for not reminding her it was in my back pocket while I was drowning!"

The outburst had them both laughing finally, Colson's boisterous and expressive was Marshall's was quieter and reserved to a soft shake of his shoulders. A few years ago the same story might've dragged up residual hurt feelings. Colson's soft fingers tickling his throat and heavy body helped keep them away.

"I'll keep that in mind in case I wanna drown your ass sometime soon."

"Probably already have it planned out, why your so eager to get me walking along the shore."

This time when Colson snorted it was followed up with a firm pull. "Fuck, ya caught me-" Large hands curling around the back of his neck to pull him down for an upside down kiss. It was interrupted by panted breaths and light shakes of the younger rapper's head but the action soothed his mood nonetheless.

Colson's mouth was warm against his own and tasted like salty sea water. Marshall even swore he could feel the scratch of sand against his chin but continued to kiss back anyway. The moment was pleasant, helped ease what little stress he had left in his temples.

The broke apart when his back started to ache, fingers tugging softly at the tangled blonde locks until they separated. "If I walk you along the shore like some cheesy hallmark movie can we skip the whole lovey dovey sunset gazing bullshit?"

Colson mock gasped. "And ruin my proposal I had planned?"

Leaning back Marshall moved to uncross his legs, forcing his behemoth of a partner to sit up himself. "If it's another collab idea dragging me out into this ridiculous sun and pesty sand was the worst way to soften me up-"

"Actually I was gonna propose we try fucking out in the ocean. Was hoping the whole weightless thing with the water meant you could hold me up while we fucked." The sleazy wink had Marshall shooting Colson a worried look. It was hard to tell how serious the brat was being. It sounded just like the kind of stupid thing he would actually plan.

"That's one way to break the news to the media," The brunette couldn't help but shake his head and laugh while he climbed back up onto his feet. Hand catching the wide umbrella so he wouldn't knock it over. "Rap God Eminem and rival MGK found naked adrift at sea together. Nude!"

For what felt like the millionth time that day Colson cackled, long neck stretching out while he threw his head back. "We- haha- We don't both have to be naked! Why would you take your shorts off too? You actually wanna skinny dip with me?"

"God no. I don't think I'd ever get the sand out of my ass. Fuck I've been sitting down this whole time and there's some inside my thighs."

Colson was less graceful when he stood up, full on jostling the umbrella with his head. Fingers curling around the older rapper's abandoned hat to slap it back ontop of his head. "That's half the fun of going to the beach. Getting sand in all kinds of-"Their eyes met in a brief flirty gaze. "Uncomfortable places."

The wink that followed was all the encouragement Marshall needed to start walking towards the beach. Eyes rolling so hard he thought they might get stuck in the back of his head. The sooner they got down to the shore the sooner he could get back to comfort of a nice soft hotel bed.

And promptly screw the blondes brains out.

#emgk #holy shit #this was so much longer than i planned #fanfiction #prompts

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aqua-eros · 5 years

Text

iKON astro notes: Kim Hanbin ✒️

Bonjour! and welcome to a new series of astro notes, this time covering the members of iKON. As always, all assumptions are based on their personal placements and personalities without knowing exact birth times. First, let's take a look at B.I, the leader, rapper and composer of the group🎼

Sun in Libra

Unless you are unfamiliar with iKON and/or B.I, you could definitely point out that, one way or another, Hanbin is very likeable and charming. Any type of person can and probably will naturally and unintentionally fall for him, even if they just met. Such is the Libra gift, brought to them by Venus itself. Venus brings irresistible charm and beauty to to the signs it rules (Taurus and Libra), therefore anyone can find themselves trapped in the moment as the magic of Libra takes their breath away, especially considering the fact that this is an air sign. Air is known for being alluring in a breezy and light-hearted sense, making it's way into your life through the help of intellect. The addition of Venus to Hanbin's air is an even bigger magnet that pulls people in without them even realizing it.

The element of air gives a wide understanding of the world, concepts and ideas, since the mind is the most active and receptive part. Air natives are creative and highly adaptable, because just like air, they can mold themselves into any shape or form, they change in order to fit in or, on the contrary, stand out. In addition, being so observant of the world and people around them, Libra natives are exceptionally good at putting up a facade, acting and playing make-believe in order to get what they truly desire. As you can see, such techniques can be used with various intentions, both good and bad, but ultimately, the goal is to bring harmony and peace to the environment a Libra is in. And if harmony means being right and having the upper hand, well, a Libra will not hesitate to take action to suit themselves. After all, we're talking about a cardinal sign and as much as Libra is known for it's indecisiveness, they know what they truly want.

The Libra energy within Hanbin (his sun and mercury) contributes to his remarkable leadership skills, for as much as he is demanding, detailed and strict, he is also diplomatic, communicative, responsible and a fighter for justice.

take a look at any episode of their survival shows "win: who is next" or "mix & match" to truly understand what I mean. Hanbin always strives for perfection and ultimate dedication from his team, to use their abilities to the max and develop them with every practice session. he accepted no slacking and because he strived for a stunning visual experience of their performances, he put immense effort into leading his team to the top (along with writing/composing their tracks). of course, that required him to play good cop/bad cop and push the members (and himself) to their limits. cardinal energy at it's peak

Libra being a social and partnership-oriented sign, it takes action through relationships and interaction with others, which also explains the heavy influence he had on his team

as much as Libras may be airheads, they are very clever. they constantly analyse and evaluate their relationships and environment, wishing to improve themselves and their surroundings for others

imbalance and unfairness is a no-no⚡

Moon in Pisces

Ah, the soul of a true poet, the spirit of an artist, such is the essence of Hanbin's inner self and it is obviously reflected in his field of work.

Hanbin's quiet, shy and somewhat awkward side is granted by his moon. It may be quite challenging for him to speak about his actual emotions and whatever ups and downs he is experiencing, since it's difficult to understand them all in the first place.

While he is very much concerned about others' emotional well-being and is trying his best to help, reassure and console those who are in need of it, when it comes to his own feelings... It can get really complicated and foggy.

The notable Neptunian influence is bound to hide and confuse whatever it touches and in Hanbin's case, his moon gets overshadowed and is left unable to fully reveal itself. He most likely goes through periods of self-reflection (his Libra energy craving that as well), isolating himself for even just a little bit in order to clear his mind, to detect the roots of his problems and, hopefully, find a solution or at least some inner peace. Whatever it is, understanding himself definitely does not come easy. It's a whole journey that takes him to pretty deep and unclear waters, as Pisces is notoriously complex and multi-facetted. Hanbin's feelings are not just this or that, they are everything at once and go through pretty intense changes on a daily, which is a lot to process. Thus, self-expression in a more emotional sense is not his forte. Yet, that explains why writing down what he feels (music) can be an easier way of opening up to the world.

Accepting failure is most certainly harder for him, since Pisces is a very sensitive sign. In his position, it is important to find the strength to move on, which he does, yet emotional pressure hits him hard and disappointing others is his worst nightmare. In a sense, it can make him feel fragile and helpless, push him into a dark place where he swims for some time, almost drowning, almost surrendering. Melancholy is close to Pisces, as well as getting lost in their own heads, endlessly dreaming, wishing and thinking.

Hanbin has mentioned that he's not especially experienced in the field of love. yet, he has written many songs specifically associated with that. obviously, he draws inspiration from fiction and certain life situations, yet I cannot skip on his imagination. pisces are famous for having visions that are beyond vivid. their minds are full of wonder and distant worlds🌠and romance is a constantly present theme inside those worlds

in other words, the need for love is really prominent. it is a yearning

intuition is strong with this placement

despite being an avid thinker, a pisces moon often acts based on emotion and the heart's desire, rather than logic

sentimental and soft, though he may try to hide it

did someone order pink glasses?🌸💕

Libra Mercury

lovely tone of voice, pleasant manners, charming way of approaching people✨

not a fan of conflicts, he either avoids them or, if the need arises, finds strength to resolve it in the most peaceful way possible

a good example of his mercury in action is "iKON TV" (ep. 7, part 4) where he felt uncomfortable confronting the rude/provocative behavior of a man and wanted to end things on mutual understanding and good terms

afraid of harming people with his words

naturally polite to everyone, wants people to like him

open-minded about new ideas and loves hearing what other people have to say

beauty finds it's way into B.I's speech. again, this serves him well during writing and sometimes public speaking

fairness is a big theme here as well, won't tolerate unjust or foul words towards anyone

his mind is very much set towards the good things and traits in people or the world. it's a rather idealistic perspective, but Libras seek peace and equality within their lives. imbalance or lack of harmony throws them from the right path and that may lead to unwanted moodswings, unusual behavior or an overall negative response from the Libra native🎭

needs a lot of time to make decisions and process things (and especially what side he's on)

Venus in Virgo

highly detail-oriented, especially when it comes to other people

hardly ever satisfied, perfection is everything to him. this goes for himself and others as well

while dealing with a Virgo placement, notice how good they are at helping you improve and develop yourself and your work ethics. they are great at helping people, yet they might not be too good on themselves and their standarts. considering that Virgo is in Hanbin's venus, his standarts in relationships of any kind can be high. he's a selective kind💎 that can be both useful and too much to handle

Virgos show love through service, mostly when in comes to something practical

although this is an earth sign, it is ruled by mercury, which makes B.I not only down-to-earth, hard-working and determined, but also craving communication, variety and fun

enjoys people with a broad mind and diverse personality, someone who never stops learning🚀

considering that venus is in fall in the sign of Virgo, the planet doesn't sit well here. it feels like there's no air for venus to breathe in when trapped in the analytical mind of Virgo, where much emphasis is put on the smaller things and not the bigger picture

tbh writing, information and organizing is basically a turn on

needs loads of time for himself, to organize his throughts, progress, values and work. alone time is a must

highly intellectual. knowledge is power

shy. especially when he likes someone

cares a lot about anything and everything. oftentimes that leads to worry and anxiety, but in severe levels

spends money wisely, is very careful about it. never impulsive spending, thinks it through a lot

responsible

Mars in Leo

oohh, here we go🔥

a very obvious indication of natural leadership skills

mars feels comfortable here, in the fire-y sign of Leo, therefore brings loads of confidence to the table

cocky boi, lets be real

noticeable presence, strong ethics, fixed morals, big desires

takes much pride in his achievements/success and the leo withing him likes to show it off to the world, wear his power like a lion's mane 🦁

winning in life is what he lives for

the stage truly belongs to him, it feels right to be there and shine like a thousand stars, to be loved by many and to, most importantly, spread that love even more like a Leo is prone to do

receives attention quite easily, even if he's not asking for it

since adoration is enjoyable, especially for Leo placements, it is likely he may go out of his way to feel it, to experience the admiration from others. after all, he's a born performer and has all of the creativity to get what he wants🎬

as you can imagine, for a placement like this, losing is not an option. but when that happens, when things don't go well or they unwillingly put shame on their name, it's a big stab in the ego. Leos are never in a good place when they fail, therefore they do anything they can to always end up victorious. otherwise, they won't even compete

embarrassment and humiliation is a big NO

can be quite the drama queen when all worked up about an issue, definitely the type to demonstrate what they're feeling

Hanbin is a frequent gym visitor, which is really good for his Leo mars. that way he can manage his emotions better and calm down his high levels of energy

say hello to !passion!, she loves to be here and boost Hanbin with even more drive for conquering not only his goals, but also his love interests

ultimate hunter award? yeah, you got it

he truly loves to love, spread love, show love, be loved, make love, everything!❤️

big-hearted and very generous, he would share the world with you if he could, or better yet, give it to you🌌

That's it for this goofball🌈 Thank you for reading! I'm really excited to start this series once again (previously done with Monsta X) but now with iKON. Only 6 more members to go!

Hope you're having a lovely day, wherever you are🎈

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dandelionpie · 5 years

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So I’ve been Having Ideas About My Future lately. And right now this one feels like the very beginning of a soap bubble - the part where you’ve started to blow into it but it hasn’t closed around itself yet. And I want to be really cautious with it so it doesn’t just pop before it can even get into the air, so I wasn’t gonna talk about it for a while, but also.

[Click through for a very long post about Maddy’s Career Options - replies are fine but please be gentle with my baby bubble hopes]

Okay, you guys.

So I was on the phone with my mother the other day, and I was having a sort of a panic attack (you know, like you do when you’re on the phone with your mother [kidding this is not normal and should not be trivialized, etc]), and I was trying to conceal this fact from her but it was Not Working. And I was dismayed about where my life was going, my lack of definite plans for a career, etc., and she said, “You know, I was actually gonna tell you - we had a lady come visit our school the other day and she’s an art therapist.”

And...here’s the thing. Usually my mother’s career suggestions kind of go in one ear and out the other. Because my mom’s great! Really! But she isn’t me, and she doesn’t always get what my life is like. So I usually just say “hm, yeah, I’ll look into it,” and then I don’t.

But I had genuinely just forgotten that art therapy existed. I knew about art, and I knew about therapy, and I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that people were putting those two things together, but somehow I’d just sort of filed that info in the General Trivia drawer instead of the Potential Grown-Up Jobs one. And...I’m getting sort of cautiously excited about the idea.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS I HAVE HAD SINCE THAT CONVERSATION

(I Started Writing Them Down and Then They Became Legion)

Every piece of art I like has a strong psychological element. That’s the common thread, dammit. That’s why I’m so picky about song lyrics, that’s why I can’t get into a book unless it’s got some sort of strong interpersonal/intrapersonal thread for me to snag my little English major hooks in. At the end of the day, the narratives that interest me are the ones where people are constantly feeling and processing things and I have to think a lot about why they’re doing that the way they’re doing it.

Not trying to sound like I think I’m super virtuous or whatever, but I tend to see good in most people, which might be an asset in that field? I get along well with a lot of personality types that friends of mine have cited as abrasive. Like, I can find people obnoxious but still notice enough of their good qualities to enjoy their company or at least tolerate it. And that’s a strength that’s served me well on a personal level, and a little on a professional level too (getting along with people helps just about anywhere), but I never thought of it as something I could use to particular effect in an actual career track.

That said, I have NO background in psychology. I had a couple lab rats, but they didn’t really teach me any of their secrets.

On cursory examination I have decided that I Do Not Like neurology. I have a lot of friends who seem to love it and that’s great, but....look, it just freaks me the fuck out. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much of my adulthood (read: all of it) preoccupied with the vulnerability of my physical being to various surgery-requiring problems. But the idea of my mind (that place where I spend so very very much of my time) being subject to the physical limitations of my brain (a part of my corporeal body [which has in the past proven itself to be somewhat unpredictable]) is so fucking terrifying to me that I’d prefer to spend as little time on that as possible please and thank you.

(Aside: I know the phrase “I don’t like the Brain; I just like the Mind) is like peak dualism, but I’m sure you all know what I mean, right? It’s possible to think about and work with the mind without focusing on the physical brain that gives rise to it. I’ve been doing that on the client end of things for years.)

A lot of the art I do is actually pretty therapeutic! To me, I mean. I never did figure out how to translate the whole cancer thing into an autobio comic (I eventually realized I simply didn’t want to and it was one of the most liberating moments of my life). But I have been relying on art for years to process my trauma. Most of my creative projects and ideas for them go back to that in some way, even if it doesn’t come across to the other people who experience them.

That said, I am...not the biggest autobio comic fan. There are so many things about that genre that rub me the wrong way. I’m glad it exists, I just don’t tend to enjoy consuming or creating autobio comics. However, this might be a chance to see autobio comics through a new lens! And it also has the potential to set me apart - there are quite a few art therapists, but I’ll bet there are fewer whose background is in comics specifically.

I could have an office. I could go into private practice and have a place that I could build into a safe space for people to talk about their problems and work on them. I know it’s just a little thing (and I’m not sure yet if private practice would be feasible/right for me, at least right away), but I like the idea of making physical space for that kind of work. (And if I sometimes also used it as a studio for comics, well, I don’t think that’s illegal or anything.)

I could be relatively independent in my career. I could work for an agency (and I think I’d probably have to, at first, but I gotta look into how all that works), but I could also spend at least some of my time in private practice, or working pro bono or on a sliding scale, or doing other stuff that allows me a great deal of flexibility and control over my schedule.

I like the idea of a type of schooling that has experience built into it. Like, you have to get a certain number of internship hours before you can be certified. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but it’s nice to see a field that’s so up-front about the fact that you need experience before you can do your job.

A lot of art therapists work with traumatized kids, and I find that prospect faintly terrifying. But also maybe it would be good to get over that, if I want to Help People and Use My Strengths to Do Good Things In the World. Those kids are gonna be traumatized either way, and if I can handle it, it’d probably be cool if I helped them.

It would be so nice to not be broke literally all the time. Even with student loans, I think this has the potential to help that happen, if I do my research and play my cards right. And I might even be able to work *gasp* less than 40 hours a week, thereby freeing up my time for other projects. Or, you know, kids. Hell, maybe I’d even be able to feed them.

Nobody would be able to make me work Saturdays.

Not sure yet whether it’d be better to get an Actual Art Therapy Degree or do a more general thing and then get a specific art therapy certification after/during that? I’m leaning towards the latter because I’d like more versatility, but I’m getting the sense that the rules for who can call themself an art therapist are slightly stricter in Oregon, so I’m gonna have to talk to the people who run the program.

What with the horse in the hospital and all that, I was thinking about a career in activism. But I’m not sure I have the temperament to be a lawyer, and I hate talking to strangers (I’ll do it if I have to, but damned if I’m gonna go door-to-door every day). But this way, I could maybe help activists balance their lives and their activism. Activists need therapists.

I could help people like me, with medical trauma. I know all about medical trauma! It has literally been a constant since I was 18! And in college and after, I hated feeling like my problems were fake and that my illness affecting my life was the result of some moral defect. Without therapy, I don’t know if I would have kept going to doctors and trying to figure everything out.

Visual art has in many ways been a great avenue leading away from self-harm, for me. The physicality of it is so much more powerful, for me, than almost anything else.

I’ve been so conflicted lately with lots of ideas about art-as-saleable-product vs. art-as-catharsis-and-narrative-control. I kind of thought my interest lay in the former but now I’m wondering if maybe it’s the latter. Like, I still love comics and storytelling and I want to make comics for people to read, but at the end of the day, I don’t want to do advertising. I don’t want to build a brand. I just want to tell stories and draw pretty pictures that make people happy. And I know that’s not what art therapists do, but in some ways it feels like the field still lines up better with my goals than commercial illustration. Does that make sense?

Lewis and Clark has a program. PSU has a program (though not an art therapy one specifically I think). There are online ones and low-residency ones as well, although honestly I think I function best in a classroom. Right now I think I’m leaning towards L&C because I’ve heard really good things about their education grad programs from a couple of people, but: gotta look further into it.

I’m liking the prospect of being a student again. I like going to lectures. I like notebooks and pencils and pens and libraries. And according to one person I talked to, as a therapist you actually have to keep taking courses throughout your career as the field changes. It’s like a condition for licensure or something (at least in some parts of the field). I’d love to be able to keep learning my entire life in such a deliberate way.

And I think I’d be better at being a student now than I was at Reed. I remember realizing waaay too late that you could just...ask your professors for help with stuff. And they could say no! But they weren’t going to, like, set me on fire. So what if I just set up a meeting with someone involved in a program and said, “Hey, look, I have no psych background and an intense interest in therapeutic work; how do I do this?” They could tell me to go away, but that’s probably about it. In a way, I think it might be nice to take another stab at academia - redeem myself.

(I have no idea what my Reed GPA is and should probably figure that out. Pretty sure I got a C in Chem and at least one other class? But maybe they won’t mind.)

My original plan had been to fund my comics habit with a freelance illustration career. Because almost nobody makes a living in comics, at least not just in comics. It happens, but very rarely does it happen with creator-owned work. A lot of indie comics artists freelance or have some other sort of art day job, and I thought that was a lifestyle I could get into.

But the Horrible Deep Dark Secret is...I don’t actually like freelancing that much, at least with my life the way it currently is. I mean, I love drawing and I love not being broke, so please keep sending people my way if they want someone to draw something (please please please I need the money). But the illustration industry is downright exhausting. It’s so hard to switch off, and it’s so much work even convincing people you deserve to get paid, let alone getting them to pay you. Mad kudos to anyone who has the time/energy to do that, but I’m not sure I do, at least at this point in my life.

But if I was planning to supplement my comics with another, art-related career anyway, what if I did this instead? What if it ended up being something I, Maddy, could enjoy and feel good about? Doing this (with my temperament) might actually a) pay better b) offer me more time and c) lend a sense of structure to my days that I definitely need and that freelancing sorely lacks.

Actually, having comics projects might even help with work-life balance in this field. I don’t know yet, but I’ve been told that a lot of therapeutic practice is establishing healthy boundaries between your work and your life, and I think it might help to have somewhere else to pour emotional energy when I’m off the clock.

Having another career wouldn’t mean I couldn’t make comics. Hell, it wouldn’t even mean I couldn’t sell comics. I could still make a website and freelance sometimes. I could still set up a Patreon. I could still publish my stuff on the web and in real life. I could still table at cons. And if things started going better than I’ve been planning for them to go, comics-wise, I wouldn’t have to keep being a therapist full-time. I’d have some flexibility, especially in private practice.

Anyway, I literally just started thinking about this a few days ago, so I have no idea if I’m gonna stay this excited about it. But...I’m enjoying looking into it. I’ve felt so much more hopeful the past few days - like my life might actually go someplace I could like. It’s a nice feeling and I would like to keep it.

I dunno. I’ve talked to some people and I’m gonna talk to some more people. Maybe set up an interview at the college in the next couple months if I can swing it. Prereqs would probably be somewhat hellacious, but that’s what I get for majoring in the humanities.

Okay cool I’m gonna go eat something and clean the kitchen.

#personal #job stuff #self-harm mention #medical trauma #in which maddy begins to consider grad shool

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epicmoonintensifies · 6 years

Text

Straying from the Thunder

Requested by @iamanemotionaltimebomb | Soulmate AU

I went a little bit overboard agaaaaaiiiin...

Your soulmark showed up when you were ten. It was too early.

The mark on your shoulder looked something like a pale green watch face with lightning twisting around it. The numbers, almost too tiny to read, as well as the clock's delicate hands (which occasionally moved, but never consistently and sometimes backwards), were silver. The lightning, which you were sure occasionally glowed even though you had never really seen it do so, also moved, sometimes branching out to strike the line of your spine or the curve of your shoulder blade in slow motion before returning to crackle along the edge of the watch. That, you took as a comfort, occasionally sitting with your back bare to a mirror so you could look behind you to watch it. It was sort of like your soulmate was touching you, you thought. You could imagine that it was a caring hand and not a streak of lightning that was brushing across your skin and tracing your spine.

But perhaps that was just wishful fancy.

Of course it was.

Most people showed their soulmarks off as often as possible, if they could. You had once met a man who almost constantly went shirtless in public because his soulmark wrapped around his entire back and hooked over his shoulders to touch his collarbones, just for good measure (his soulmate, when he found her, had a very... outgoing personality). This was for the sole purpose of having one's soulmate see their soulmark on one's body or vice versa. It was the most straightforward and traditional way of doing things, really. You, however, were not so comfortable doing so. Exposing your soulmark felt like your were exposing your soulmate himself, throwing some special, personal part of him out into the world for everybody to see. And that felt wrong. Very wrong. Like you were making him vulnerable, which... which would be bad. You weren't sure how or why, but... when you looked at your soulmark, the lightning at its edges seemed defensive. Like your soulmate was shielding himself.

So you avoided tank-tops and sundresses and off-the-shoulder whatevers and even wide-necked shirts. You picked thicker, darker fabrics. You kept your soulmark covered no matter how much you were looked at strangely for doing so. You felt a desperate need to keep it covered. To keep your soulmark and, thusly, your soulmate, safe.

It was insane. There was probably something wrong with you. This was probably a disorder. You probably needed therapy. Getting your soulmark so early had probably done something to you psychologically.

You didn't care.

With each passing year, it seemed less likely that you would meet him. Protecting him would probably be the only thing you could ever do for him.

Ozpin was surprised (and this is an understatement of massive proportions) by the appearance of a soulmark on the back of his neck, mostly because he had no idea it was there in the first place.

(In his defense, it wasn't there yesterday.)

(In his defense, also, it was very, very late. Most people received their soulmarks in their late teens. He wasn't expecting to receive one at all.)

It was Glynda who noticed it. She seemed hesitant to mention it when she did, as though unsure if it were something she was allowed to speak of or even acknowledge, but it was a good thing that she did speak of it, otherwise he would not have noticed it at all. His hair curtained over the top half of the mark and his scarf covered the bottom, but Glynda, walking behind him, had caught sight of a sliver of color in the space in between.

And what glorious color it was.

It took two mirrors and a clip to keep his hair out of the way, but when Ozpin finally got a good look at his soulmark, he felt both fear and relief. Fear, because he knew that his soulmate was out there somewhere with a his soulmark, which... could be very, very dangerous.

This would not be his first soulmate.

He had been privileged to have several soulmates, over the ages, but with each life he lived, he was less likely to have one. His age (ancient), and his experience (vast), and his... well, body-hopping, for lack of a better term, made his soul less and less compatible with others. The process of moving from one body to another, mixing his soul with that of each host's along the way, always changed him in a manner that was irreversible and strange. Too strange for most others to tolerate, much less love. He could barely tolerate it himself.

He had lived for thousands of years. He had only four soulmates in all that time.

You would be the miraculous, impossible fifth. It was for this reason that he felt relief. It had been a very, very long time since he had taken comfort in a soulmate, since he had been loved as only a soulmate could love him, and he had ached to have that feeling back. Now there was you. Whoever and wherever you were, he would find you. He had to find you. Not just because he wanted you (needed you), but because with his soulmark on your body, you were at risk.

Ozpin's soulmark, no matter who it was on, remained the same over thousands of years. It was one part of him that never changed.

Salem knew what his soulmark looked like. She had seen it on one of his previous soulmates. And Salem had very likely taught all of her agents what it looked like (Hazel most certainly knew), so that if they ever came across the mark in passing... Ozpin could only imagine what they would do to you. Kill you, maybe, just to cause him pain. Or, more likely, they would take you back to Salem and she would use you as bait. Very effective bait. If Salem had you, then Salem had Ozpin. It was as simple as that. He could not leave his soulmate, even one he did not know, in her hands.

He did not tell Glynda all of this, but he told her enough to know that you were in danger and that he was desperate.

You had to be found.

You had never been to Beacon. Never attended it, never took a tour, never went there to access their big-as-all-get-out library.

It just... wasn't an option you had ever seriously considered. Your parents hadn't bothered putting you in a combat school like Signal, and you only ever took the basic combat classes in your regular school, mostly for self-defense purposes, so... even if you had wanted to attend Beacon, you would never have passed an entry test. Which was fine. Beacon Academy just wasn't in your future, and it never occurred to you, even for a second, to be disappointed about that.

However, you had made up for that by keeping up on your academics, and you had specialized in Grimm Studies. And, since you weren't a Huntress, there was one place within Vale's city limits where that particular topic could be considered useful.

Beacon Academy was in your future after all.

Getting a chance to work there was... weirdly easy. As it turned out, Grimm Studies was not a popular topic to major in, mostly because it's hard to study something that is pure evil, hyper-aggressive towards anything that moves, and immediately disintegrates after it dies.

"You'll be working under Professor Port," Professor Goodwitch told you as you struggled to keep up through the swift pace she was making through Beacon Academy's hallways. They weren't as complicated as you had been expecting, but maybe they just seemed simple because you were practically running through them.

Glynda Goodwitch was a very intimidating woman. And she had a riding crop. You considered yourself appropriately cowed, and she had barely even looked at you since you got here.

"He can be somewhat difficult to work with if you are not used to him," the professor continued. The words had a sardonic scrape to them. "And sometimes even if you know him very well. He is very self-assured, but he sometimes struggles to keep the attention of his students in class. It will be very helpful to him if you can keep them on track."

Sometimes probably means most of the time, you guessed. Well, you couldn't fix the guy's problems if he was too wrapped up in himself to notice that his students were nodding off. Then again, maybe it wasn't that at all. Maybe his syllabus just needed a little sprucing up. Maybe the kids needed a little more action? Or a little less. Or maybe Professor Port was really that bad and he deserved every speck of sarcasm Goodwitch was staining his reputation with.

Oh, dear, she was still talking.

"... and if he makes any inappropriate comments, I want you to come straight to me..."

Inappropriate comments? Oh, great. Fan-flipping-tastic. One of those.

"The headmaster will be coming to meet you at noon, so I suggest you take an early lunch."

Ah. Right. The headmaster. Professor Ozpin. He was a legend. What he was a legend for, you weren't exactly sure and had never cared enough to know, but now you had to wonder. Maybe he was legendary for being a hard-headed pain in the asses of his fellow teachers.

Holy Dust, you were not prepared for this.

At noon, you were no more prepared.

Professor Port was a really, really nice guy. Blunt and maybe a little too forward, but really nice. He just wasn't a particularly good teacher (which didn't make him a bad person). And he was also a little inappropriate (which also didn't make him a bad person but really needed to be addressed). Yeah, you'd be talking to Goodwitch, alright. You didn't want to get the guy fired. Just... a stern talking-to and a slap on the wrist would at least help, right? Especially if he had you in the classroom as his TA to remind him that he was being observed. Yeah. That would help. All of this would get taken care of, you would be able to settle into a comfortable routine, and everything would be just fine.

So you were tired. That was to be expected, whether a teacher put you to sleep with his voice or not. As a whole, it had gone well. You had gotten along with Port. The kids seemed to like you. You knew what you needed to do to help improve this classroom and work as a TA until you had a more permanent position as a real professor. Which wouldn't be too terribly far off, since Professor Port appeared to be displaying all the signs and symptoms of someone ready to retire.

You collected your notes on the class and your copy of the syllabus with a tired sigh. Being tired wasn't helping, but everything had actually gone well.

Maybe this would all work out after all.

You felt a slight tingle as the lightning on your shoulder began to branch out towards your spine. It had been doing that a lot lately. It used to only happen a few times a week, but for the past month or so, it had been happening a few times a day. You had never heard of marks changing like that. Ones that moved regularly were rare enough. One like yours, that moved almost constantly... your soulmate would be special, alright.

A clock and lightning. A clock and lightning. What did that even mean?

Your soulmate would know. But your soulmate would probably never see your mark because you obsessively kept it covered instead of showing it like everybody else did.

It's safe this way, you told yourself, reaching back to press the mark through your clothes. Safe from what, you didn't know. You only knew that it was true. He's safe this way.

"Miss?"

You turned and found yourself face-to-face with the headmaster of Beacon.

Oh.... Wow.

This guy, Professor Ozpin himself, with his very nice suit and very nice scarf and very dangerous-looking cane, looked like he was about to drop dead of exhaustion.

He also looked like the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

His amber eyes were bloodshot. His skin was sickly pale. He was tall (very), but his shoulders sagged. His mouth (pretty lips, chapped) had a grim set to it. Hair that had gone silver prematurely, judging by the lack of lines on his face, was messy and unkempt. That very, very nice suit was rumpled. If he did sleep, he did so with that suit on.

"Professor Port's new assistant, I presume," he finally said after you stared for too long.

"Yes, sir," you answered immediately, avoiding eye-contact out of sheer embarrassment. He looked like he had been having the worst week of his life and you had been ogling him. While he was trying to talk to you. Ugh. "Professor Ozpin?"

"Correct." He gave you an almost-smile. It probably would have been a real and very nice smile, if he had actually slept sometime within the last forty-eight hours. Obviously, he hadn't. "If you don't mind taking a walk with me?"

If you did mind, it wasn't like you would say no.

You almost felt like saying no for his sake. This guy -Professor Ozpin- did not need to take a walk. He needed to take a nap. He needed to take a vacation. He could at least sit down and talk to you. Or lie down. Maybe eat a snack and get in some liquids while he was at it, because if he wasn't sleeping, you could bet that he wasn't eating or drinking like he needed to be, either. Maybe you could trick him into eating some of your lunch? No, that was silly. But...

But, nothing! I'm not his mother!

So you walked. And you discovered that while Glynda was a heel-wearing speed-walker from Hell or Grimmland, Ozpin simply had the natural benefit of infinitely long legs (yes, infinitely, they went on forever), and you had trouble keeping up with either of them.

And it was because of this that you ended up just behind him enough times to notice the glimmer of color on his neck.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Ozpin looked back at you questioningly when he realized that you had stop trying to keep up with his long strides. Amber eyes. Beautiful amber eyes. Oh, you were doomed even if that maybe-mark on the back of his neck wasn't what you thought it was. You were doomed no matter what. Doom was your destiny as he turned to face you and cocked his head to the side (why was that cute, what the hell).

"I..." You croaked slightly, making a meaningless twitching motion with your hand. "I, um, on the back of your..."

You reached back to scratch the nape of your own neck. Oh, this was a special kind of embarrassing, wasn't it? If you were wrong, you would simply have to never look at the headmaster ever again for as long as you lived (which would be a shame, because... well).

Realization dawned on the headmaster's face. His amber eyes widened.

"Oh," he said. He wavered there for a moment, swaying slightly as he actually looked at you now, taking in the whole sight of you. His lips quirked up at the corners in a hesitant smile.

"I'm not - sure? I..." You cringed at your own ineloquence. "I didn't see..."

Professor Ozpin didn't appear to be listening, however, as he turned his back on you. No, you thought, but then his scarf was pulled away to be slung neatly over one arm, and he reached back to push his own hair aside.

There it was. A soulmark. An amazingly vivid, complex soulmark. You had never seen yourself that way, never considered for a moment that you were as beautiful as to make a mark like that on someone else's body, but when you saw it in full, you knew. That mark was yours. That mark was you.

"Is this yours?" Ozpin asked softly after your silent watching, once again, lasted too long. This time, the professor's voice quavered.

Fear. You couldn't trick yourself into thinking that tone was one of anything but fear. He was just as afraid as you were.

"Yes," you said, and Ozpin's tense shoulders quivered. "That's definitely mine."

And then Ozpin was facing you and much closer than he was half a second before. His hands hovered just shy of pulling you into an embrace even as his face dropped the mask of tired serenity he had been wearing to reveal a desperate yearning.

"And mine?" he asked. His eyes searched your face as if a soulmark might suddenly materialize on your cheek. "Do you have...?"

"Back of my left shoulder," you said, although not with the same impersonal resentment you usually said the words with at the registration office, where you had always wanted to say, none of your business, good day to you sir. You had refused to give them any more information on your soulmark, feeling violated by the process that most other people happily went through, if only to heighten their chances of finding their soulmates through exposure. "Here, I'll show you."

Your heart pounded as you shrugged off your jacket. Ozpin took it from you without a word and slung it across his arm along with his scarf. You peeled off your shirt, too, to reveal the tank-top underneath. You paused, then. You could feel the lightning, in its slow-motion strike, still reaching across your skin towards your spine. The lightning was him. The mark on your body was his, an imprint of his soul, and after thinking you would never find him, now...

Now.

Before you could lose your nerve (anymore than you already had), you turned your back to Ozpin.

His faint gasp hurt you and thrilled you. You felt him draw closer until his hands gripped your bare arms, maybe to steady himself or to steady you, and he knelt down until you could feel his breath against your skin.

"Yes," you heard him say, so faintly that you almost thought you had imagined it. "Yes, this is mine."

And then his lips were on you, tracing the lightning from your shoulder to your spine, so tender and gentle that you could hardly stand it. The soulbond was already forming as you accepted one another, binding you together, and Ozpin's kisses became more fervent as the bond strengthened.

"I was afraid," he gasped against your skin. The lightning crackled in response to his touch. "I was so afraid for you. This mark is dangerous."

"I knew," you assured him. And you would be demanding an explanation for that, later.

You pried yourself away from him only so you could turn and face him. He immediately gathered you back into his arms, holding you almost too tightly, with a desperation you somehow understood.

"I have you."

#Ozpin #ozpin x reader #soulmate au #rwby #rwby soulmate au #rwby imagine #imagine rwby #ozpin imagine #professor ozpin #soulmate imagine #soulmarks #Glynda Goodwitch #professor ozpin x reader #imagine ozpin #imagine #rwby au

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thescatterbrainedwriter · 4 years

Text

Hiya! I don’t usually post my writings anywhere but I wanna share my idea things. Most of my writings come in the form of fan crations; characters inspired by books, movies, tv shows and games. So here’s something that’s been brewing in my gray matter for a few months.

I recently got reobsessed with Supernatural and decided to add definition to a character i made up a looooong time ago when I first found the show. Didn’t really go into detail about the character but I’m really liking where this is going. Hope you do too!

I’m always open to constructive criticism so don’t hesitate to let me know how I can improve 🥔

——

Failed Archangel Olivia

Originally created to be the fifth and final archangel, Olivia turned out differently. She suspects something went wrong during her creation due to the fact she was made after the darkness was sealed away. She is extremely strong, not as strong as Lucifer or Michael but is capable of giving them a good beating if needed. Unfortunately she is unable to properly contain her grace and therefore cannot wield it to her full potential. Most of the time she keeps her grace on a low output or conceals it completely to avoid burning her vessel out.

Being considered a failure but not wanting to discard her, God attempted to place her in other positions that better suited her. None seemed to work until the creation of the heavenly choir. She excelled and became one of the most gifted singers, her songs invoking a sense of contentment, comfort and sometimes euphoria. She was delighted by the fact God would come into the choir room to listen to her when he needed a moment to himself. Sometimes even Lucifer would visit when he wanted to get away from Michael or just needed someone to talk to. Olivia loved their conversations. He pointed out one song in particular he was especially fond of and Olivia spent her spare time trying to perfect it.

While God was creating humans, Olivia observed they seemed to be prone to violence and wondered if it was a good idea to continue. God reassured her that was all part of the complete package. While it was true they could be violent, they were also capable of great kindness. Olivia said she liked them much better than the leviathans and God agreed. She noted that while she was wary of their nature, she was looking forward to the finished product.

The closer God got to completing creating humans, Lucifer became increasingly agitated and jealous his father was spending so much time with his “new favorites”. He went to the choir room more often and would often talk with Olivia. She tried to reassure and comfort him but he was too agitated most times to really listen. There were times where they would go for walks around heaven when the choir room wasn’t working, sometimes even trying to sneak some of God’s “holy spirits”. Lucifer was always too bright and they frequently got caught, but whenever Gabriel would help they would be more successful.

When she wasn’t comforting Lucifer, she and Gabriel would talk and hang out. Gabe liked the humans and was excited to see the finished product, Olivia admitted she was optimistic about them as well. They bonded and became very close, Olivia admitting she was worried about how Lucifer would react. Gabriel, though also nervous, was still hopeful Lucifer would at least tolerate them. Whenever Olivia was feeling down Gabe never failed to cheer her up as he liked her better when she smiled.

Once the humans were complete, Olivia was excited to see them. She heard God coo over them and talk nearly non stop about them. She hurried over to peek at them when God instructed his angels to love them more than they love him. Olivia was puzzled but tried to oblige. No one could take the place of God but they were magnificently innocent. Once Lucifer expressed his disgust for humans and his refusal to do as told, Gabe and Olivia became concerned as the argument escalated. Olivia confided in Gabriel that she really didn’t like the fighting and that Lucifer’s anger was making her increasingly worried. She could tell God was having none of it and didn’t know what he would resort to. Gabe tried to calm her but she was far too distracted to do so.

Olivia was devastated when she heard Lucifer was cast out. Not even Gabriel could make her smile. She refused to sing anymore and took to wandering around heaven by herself. Michael thought she was being pathetic by moping explaining that he hurt too but had to uphold the decision that was made. Gabe was the only one to get some semblance of conversation out of her, she was too heartbroken to even ask God about his decision. When Lucifer was locked in the cage after twisting Lillith into the first demon and a few other reprehensible acts, she took to keeping to her self in the more secluded areas of heaven. She no longer shone like she had before and was slowly becoming dimmer.

Growing concerned for Olivia’s wellbeing, God took her down to earth to show her his creations telling her she would be happier down there. He hoped it would distract her enough that she would be herself in no time and explained he was concerned with how glum she had become since Lucifer’s expulsion. He pointed out a small settlement of humans and told her to watch them and, if she wished, she could interact with them. Olivia didn’t say much but nodded to acknowledge she heard and understood him. God turned her head to look at him and sighed at how broken she looked. He told her he knows how hard it is on her, Michael and himself were taking it hard as well, but he hoped she could find new happiness on earth. He reminded her this was not a banishment but he wanted her to stay as long as she needed to get herself better again. She gave him a small smile and told him she would try. He smiled and kissed her forehead before returning to heaven.

——

**Relationships**

*God*

When Olivia resided in heaven she loved God. She was always happy when he would come visit her in the choir room and would happily chat with him even if he didn’t respond. She would do her best to bring him peace and, although he wouldn’t outright say it, he was grateful for her efforts. She would even visit him in his “office” just to check in.

As all children do, she would sometimes do things she wasn’t supposed to such as try to sneak some of God’s collection of alcohol she came to call “holy spirits”. Whenever Lucifer was feeling particularly down she would suggest them attempting to pilfer some and would even rope Gabriel in. Sometimes God would make them easier to find than others unbeknownst to her.

After Lucifer was sent to the cage, Olivia grew very distant even to God. While she eventually becomes indifferent towards God, still remembering him fondly, once she finds out what he’s been up to and why she thinks little of him and decides to instead focus on the “new happiness” she’s managed to find. She has entertained the idea of reconciling with him but only if his actions match his words.

Contrary to other angels, Olivia becomes rather brazen when God begins to show his anger going as far to push him nearly to the edge before making him laugh. After having observed the creative insults from the various children that come into her home, she’s gotten much better at catching people unawares and getting them to laugh, including God, who remarks he “still doesn’t know how she developed that talent.”

*Amara*

Initially she knew very little about Amara given she was created after she was sealed away. It was only when they had gone to get Casifer back that they came to a kind of mutual respect. When Amara expressed anger at what was done to her, Olivia pointed out a similar thing happening to Lucifer though she suspected he took so long to put his foot down was because he didn’t want to repeat what he did. Through conversation she discovered her positive emotion imparting was very similar to what Amara could do which cause her to realize it was most likely the reason she had been created after she was locked away and had never heard of Chuck’s older sister. While Amara was initially angry finding is somewhat pathetic her attitude softened, Olivia found it interesting and guessed he wanted his sister near but didn’t want her destroying his creations let alone what her wrath to being banished would entail.

Olivia enjoys spending time with Amara, despite the protests and attempts to keep her away by Chuck, and she seems to be the only angel Amara doesn’t find annoying or pathetic.

*Death*

Olivia doesn’t have much interaction before the apocalypse given he mostly resides in his coffin, though when he was brought up by Lucifer during those events she and him had friendly interactions. Affectionately calling him “Uncle Death” she seems to be one of the few who manages even a hint of a smile even having brief moments of light banter. He doesn’t understand why Olivia associates with Lucifer and takes shots questioning why and when she’ll drop him.

She was surprised and saddened when she learned of his death, being death itself she never really thought of him having the possibility of dying or being killed. Like Chuck, she doesn’t really like Billie as much as a replacement but she remains civil and friendly toward her despite her very reserved and hands off way of doing things. Noting that it’ll take some getting used to, she says she doesn’t seem all that bad.

*Michael*

While not particularly close she has a friendly relationship with Michael. She always thought he was annoyingly straight laced and far too blindly obedient but would have friendly conversation with him on occasion.

When Michael returned after locking Lucifer away, Olivia no longer bothered talking to him even in passing. While she understood he was just doing as he was told it still didn’t help with the loss. His remarks about her behavior being ridiculous made her disregard him. The first time she sees Michael since her relocation, she pleads along with Lucifer for him to just walk away. Hearing him insisting on doing as designed reinforced her disregard for him, though his hesitation left the possibility that he could come around.

The second time he returned after being in the cage, Olivia saw how alone he was given the deaths of his brothers and decided to start over with him. She becomes much softer and warmed up to him treating him more like a brother and offering him a place in her new home. She’s also more affectionate, having taken to leaning on him, giving him hugs, and innocently teasing him trying to get him to smile. She likes his smile, how relaxed he’s become, and that he smiles more now. (subject to change pending final season viewing)

*Adam*

Initially she had no idea who he was but after learning he and Michael came to an agreement and share control much like herself and Tal’na, Olivia extends a warm welcome and expresses interest in getting to know him. She has a tendency to be overly fluffy and excited with him when he’s in control treating him more like one of her older kids but will sometimes treat him the same as Michael. She’s become very protective of him and tries very hard to not be overbearing.

She enjoys talking with Adam and takes any opportunity she can when she’s not busy taking care of the house, her foster kids and the hunter families, or has her attention occupied by Nick. (subject to change pending final season viewing)

*Lucifer*

Olivia loved Lucifer very much. Whenever she saw him in a bad mood she did everything to cheer him up, even going as far as to memorize and perfect his favorite song and sing it for him whenever he asked. They would spend a lot of time together and Lucifer would sometimes try comfort her too. It didn’t always work but she always appreciated his effort. The closer humans came to completion she became increasingly agitated by his inability to let his jealousy go. Lucifer confessed that he didn’t particularly like having such negative feelings but didn’t know what to do and Olivia insisted that he talk to God to see if he’d listen. Lucifer opted to spend more time with her instead but there was just so much she could do for him.

The first time Lucifer was cast out, Olivia rarely sang and passed most of her time watching him on earth. She longed for him to return but stayed in heaven as told, even asking God if he would make an exception. She kept to the choir room and asked angels in passing what they could see regarding Lucifer’s whereabouts. They often dismissed her or gave her minimal answers causing her to become more withdrawn. She was horrified to learn what he had done when he returned. Regardless, she was still devastated when he was banished to a cage deep within hell. She tried everything to go and see him but she suspects the way in was warded against her specifically. She tried infrequently after realizing she wasn’t getting anywhere and shortly after she was sent to earth by God.

When the apocalypse was started, Olivia fortified her home and the surrounding area before venturing out. She had a very strong pull to find the origin of many of the omens. She first reunited with Lucifer when he brought up Death. The reunion was brief but she was happy to see him again. She was saddened by the fact he was preoccupied by preparing for the fight with Michael but stayed near by and only wandered away when it involved her charges back home. Sometimes she would appear in other places where omens were prevalent when it involved members of her kids’ families, such as when she confronted the “whore of Babylon” when she was impersonating a prophet and speaking falsities about the angels even though she didn’t have the greatest history with them. At Stulls Cemetery, she attempted to be a mediator between Michael and Lucifer pleading along with the latter to just walk away. She became distressed when Castiel banished Michael with holy fire and increasingly distressed when witnessing Lucifer beat Dean, so much so that she froze, pleading that he stop, and wound up having to teleport away with a tearful and panicked sorry after Sam regained control.

Olivia felt another familiar pull when Lucifer was summoned by Rowena into Limbo. She plead her case to Billie to grant access when she found the building the door was located. Billie warned that the Winchesters were in the middle of “negotiations” and it could be detrimental if she interrupted. She promised she wouldn’t disrupt the goings on and Billie relented after some consideration. Because Limbo passed beneath the warding to the cage and didn’t go directly to it, Olivia was able to traverse and quickly did so in order to meet with Lucifer again. As the pull became stronger she slowed becoming nervous. She paused at the base of the stairs that led up to where Rowena and Crowley had been standing. Her heart skipped a beat when she hear Lucifer talk about feeling a familiar presence he hadn’t felt in a great long while and called her to come forward.

After his greeting of “I could smell you”, Olivia calls him a weirdo, telling him to stop smelling her, and shows her bashful personality when around him often blushing or becoming quiet when he shows a more flirty, albeit dirty, side. She quickly matches his energy and subtly flirts back, responding “gross” when he asks if she’d rather he say he could taste her, though she does tell him no, not a chance or definitely not when he telepathically flirts with a much more forward tone. When he asks her to come closer to the cage, she playfully responds “But daddy says I shouldn’t talk to you.” and he responds by looking her in the eye saying “Thought you liked bad boys?” which makes everyone nearby express disgust at the exchange, minus Lucifer and Olivia who chuckle. The sending of Lucifer back to the cage was bittersweet, while she understood he was dangerous if let out she still couldn’t help missing him, though was grateful for the time she was able to have. She thanked both Rowena and Crowley for tolerating her presence and the back and forth between herself and Lucifer. When leaving the room, she mistook Lucifer for Castiel and expressed remorse for their strategy not working before leaving and telling him she would meet him back at the bunker with a small smile. She later explains she saw it was him but due to her believing her mind was playing tricks on her because of her missing him so much she mistook his presence as an illusion.

Shortly before Sam discovered Castiel was not Castiel, Olivia was oblivious due to the fact she was blearily going through the next few days. She wound up bonding with “Castiel” and inadvertently telling Lucifer everything she loves about him and even things she thought he really shouldn’t have done or should improve on. She also explained that although she did find new happiness on Earth, it would never make her glow the same as being with “her boys” back in heaven would. When Lucifer revealed himself to her, Olivia was ecstatic and, against her better judgment, kept the information from the Winchesters. She took looking for the Hands of God as an opportunity to renew her bond with Lucifer while keeping up the guise that it was still Castiel.

When Amara took Lucifer hostage, Olivia argued for him to be rescued along with the Winchesters and did so with a bit of authority which surprised even herself. When God refused she got angry with him giving him the silent treatment and responded with short answers, though when he was rescued along with the entire impala she sincerely thanked him. She insisted on being near by when God apologized to Lucifer in order to ensure that he genuinly apologized.

Olivia was always supportive and loyal to Lucifer sometimes to a fault. She held tightly to the hope that he would be able to get some semblance of his old self back. It blinded her to a degree and when she heard what he did to Jack was devastated to where she didn’t see him the same. She still loved him, though that fact made the full spectrum of what he had become all the more painful. When she learned he was dead she was left broken loosing the last being she loved dearly.

There have been times where Olivia will express exasperation when realizing her attachment to him to God by asking “why’d you have to make him so damn pretty??” This usually gets a chuckle from him making her huff in frustration.

*Nick*

Originally Olivia pitied him, and seeing his history and how he was used by Lucifer she resolved to help him navigate his way back to stability and some semblance of a normal life. After being riddled with guilt about how he became a murderer and believing she should have tried harder, she went back in time to put him on a better path. Due to her lingering feelings for Lucifer and the influence still surrounding him, Olivia wound up developing feelings for Nick. She did her best to quash them and kept her relationship strictly rehabilitative. After tracking down Abraxas and assisting him in smiting the demon for closure, Olivia puts Nick up in a room of her halfway house so that he can process and grieve what he didn’t have a chance for before in relative peace. She even went as far as to bring him to his wife Sarah’s ghost to help her move on.

She often finds herself becoming quiet and shy, and even smile to herself more often than she used to whenever he’s in the vicinity. The other residents notice, as he’s the first to elicit such a reaction from her, and sometimes tease her about it but she always manages to compose herself so as not to give too much away.

*Gabriel*

Gabriel was her best and closest friend, she loved him and spending time with him. She’d spend more time with him than even Lucifer and would join in on his hi-jinx, sometimes even instigating. Gabriel was one she missed most when she was relocated to earth and was brought to tears when she found him again alive and well.

He always had a knack for getting her to laugh and putting her in a good mood. Likewise, Olivia knew how to cheer him up. They would often try to “out trick” each other with illusions whenever they were bored. Most of the angels, including Michael, loathed when they would get together, even more so when Lucifer would join, as they would get so out of hand at times that it would disrupt things. God never really did anything as he found it entertaining.

Unbeknownst to her, Gabriel loved her deeply and tried to gain her attention by visiting her often and making a point to always have her smiling. Often times he had to share her attention with Lucifer, which would easily annoy him, making him try just a bit harder. It was only when he saw how she held onto him and learned how hard she tried to find him that he came to terms with the fact that, while she does love him, she’ll never love him like she does Lucifer. Regardless, he still strives to keep her happy and smile as much as possible. During the Heavenly War, Gabriel managed to keep her out of the majority of the fighting and in the most remote and hidden areas of Heaven. Like Gabriel, Olivia couldn’t stand seeing the fighting and he did his best to distract and comfort her.

His death left Olivia distraught causing her to crumple to her knees, scream and cry. She went completely blank and was totally vulnerable as the alternate Michael casually walked up to her. After the brief taunting by him, she was overtaken by grief and rage unleashing her full fury and become engulfed in a blinding light. For a short while she was able to effortlessly toss him around and go toe to toe with him impressing even Lucifer. It was only when she made it back to the bunker that she allowed herself to really fall apart holing herself up in the room Gabriel once stayed in and eventually relinquished control to her vessel. Because of his death she has learned her vessel is strong enough to handle her full glory, possibly even being her true vessel from the beginning.

Because of the cloaking spell Gabriel cast on himself, Olivia was unaware of his presence on Earth. It’s possible they crossed paths at some point in the long period of time they spent grounded but they didn’t realize it. It’s also possible she was the only one unaware because of the spell and, although he loved her deeply, was too scared to approach her after how long they had been separated. She laments the lost time between them.

*Castiel*

Castiel is the only angel she’s on good terms with besides Lucifer and Gabriel. She enjoys his company and appreciates him filling her in on the things that went on in heaven. She finds him quiet and ambitious, definitely not like other angels she’s met in passing or from her memories, and likes the fact he’s taken an interest in humans. While she sympathized with his efforts in the past she doesn’t approve of his methods. She finds his shy and naive personality endearing and will sometimes playfully tease him about it.

When she heard about his relationship with Meg, she was surprised but found it adorable and would have a big smile on her face whenever it was mentioned. She regrets the fact she died stating that she was curious how things would unfold and believed it would have led to something good.

*Balthazar*

Balthazar is one of the angels who don’t know much about her though she has heard and is familiar with him. Being the keeper of the heavenly weapons Olivia didn’t have much cause to visit but would extend friendly greetings whenever she passed by. The only thing he really knew about her was that she was the youngest archangel, even younger that Gabriel, and was often accompanied by him or Lucifer. He’s also aware that she has a great amount of strength and although she’s the youngest she shouldn’t be taken lightly.

When on earth and he gets to know her, he described her as “an unassuming powerhouse that can do more with one punch than one might think” and enjoys her unusual personality, as far as angels go, equating it to be more akin to human personalities. He finds her curious and usually turns his attention toward her whenever she’s near by. Olivia believes that, had he not been killed by Castiel, they may have become good friends.

*Jack Kline*

Olivia took a liking to Jack nearly instantly. She loved his curious and inquisitive tendencies and wholly innocent nature. As she had never met a Nephilim before, she was just as curious about him as he was about everything else. She was happy to take him under her wing when Castiel was indisposed and loved having the opportunity to be hands on as she was more of a guardian and figure head at her roost in recent days. She grew very close and started to treat him like her own son, which was a strange feeling but she was excited about it. When Jack was killed, she was beside herself and was angry when she found out how and by whom.

After the accident with Mary Winchester, Olivia happened to find him while he was trying to hide and offered silent company and an ear should he feel like talking. When he brought her to the cabin where it happened she tried to soothe him by discussing the pros and cons of telling Sam and Dean while also explaining how, even though he may not have a soul anymore, he has a moral compass and that knowing what he did was bad makes him still good.

*Sam and Dean*

Olivia loves both the boys and has mentally adopted them. She protects them like any other member of the family she has built and comes whenever they call even lending her expertise when they research a hunt. She often gets flustered and worried given their dangerous tendencies during hunts and has insisted on going with them a few times. She tries not to mother them too much but she always wants to make sure they’re ok, especially given everything they’ve been put through in the past years. She pays special attention to their preferences and tries to provide them their favorites when they’ve had a particularly rough day or when she just wants to see them smile. She’s made the bunker her secondary roost and finds herself frequently dropping by, sometimes staying for long periods, and even goes to them for help on occasion. She’s a bit more partial to Sam than Dean.

When sam was suffering with hallucinations of Lucifer, she would stop by every now and then to try and help by humming Lucifer’s favorite song in order to soothe his mind. It eventually stopped working making her feel helpless. She has become increasingly protective and worried as Chuck has become increasingly destructive fearing the worst. She’s become more and more proactive in the offensive and not just providing support.

*Tal’na*

The first human she befriended, Tal’na became her closest and dearest human friend. She would spend many hours of the day talking with Olivia during chores or exploring, whichever she was doing that day. She would explain to Olivia what everything was like, how it made her feel and the sensations each thing gave. When Olivia expressed sorrow at not being able to experience these things herself she asked how and if it was possible. Upon consideration of the prospect of being a vessel, she agreed to house her on the condition they share control though she wanted Olivia to experience as much of the world as she wanted so she delegated primary control to her while she observed from her subconscious. On rare occasions when Olivia becomes overwhelmed, she will hibernate in the subconscious instead and make her take primary control.

*Leviathans*

She doesn’t have much of a relationship with Leviathans and regards them more as annoying younger siblings. She’s relatively friendly, referring to it as “frienemy” status, but has no problem fighting and even killing them. Dick Roman really got on her nerves so she had no problem pissing him off. Likewise he had no qualms pissing her off and they would often get into insult matches.

*Rowena*

She’s not particularly close to Rowena but has a friendly bond. She was intrigued by her knowledge of magic and listened attentively whenever she would ramble on about things. She enjoyed conversations with her and would joke around sometimes even joining in on her teasing. Although they weren’t close she was still protective of her.

*Crowley*

As with Rowena, Olivia wasn’t particularly close and didn’t really feel one way or the other about him but had a relatively friendly attitude toward him whenever he was around. There have been points in which it seemed they had a far more friendly relationship than initially thought, even seeming flirty, though nothing concrete had ever been observed coming from such interactions.

As a “business man” he keeps things professional with her and she has reciprocated. Although she doesn’t make deals she keeps and upholds agreements they come to and he returns the favor on occasion.

He refers to her ability of positive emotion imparting as “the good touch” explaining it “tingles in all the right places” and seems to have been addicted to it at some point. It’s thought this is the reason he’s made the comment “really is a pity you’ve committed to remaining unattached” and more often calls her ‘love’ or ‘darling’ compared to others people.

*Lilith*

Olivia is indifferent towards Lilith though pitied her because of what Lucifer had done. However, she doesn’t hesitate to “put her in her place” and wouldn’t hesitate to smite her.

*Cain*

Cain and Olivia have a very friendly relationship despite who they both are. She found him shortly after his rampage with the knights of hell and offered her sincere condolences. She also has a habit of apologizing whenever she sees him, which at first annoyed him but now he brushes off with a smile and roll of his eyes often loudly stating over his shoulder “It’s FIIIIIIINE Olivia!” When Dean and Crowley went looking for the first blade, Olivia happened to stop by and made them nervous with the quips they would sling at each other to the point they were convinced he was getting angry.

Up until she revealed her secret to the Winchesters, he was the only one who knew her relationship with Lucifer and the fact she was an archangel. She gives him the space he requested and whenever she pops in for a visit she is heavily warded against any and all beings and even carries a hex bag to deter tracking and scrying spells.

She always leaves loaded up with honey products and says she’s never found better quality than his and affectionately calls him “Honeycane”.

*Arthur Ketch*

She didn’t particularly fancy him or his personality though remains civil. She rebuffs his occasion flirtations but sometimes humors him flirting back giving off the impression she’s playing hard to get. She finds his personality more tolerable once he distances himself from the British Men of Letters.

While she does eventually tolerate him more than her initial impression, Mick’s death has left a bad taste in her mouth and she despises him to a degree because of it. Even though she understands he was acting on orders, and has seen the British Men of Letters slowly become more brutal in their practices, she still has a hard time accepting it but had found his death disheartening.

*Mick Davis*

Olivia has stated that the British Men of Letters is the reason she doesn’t travel there much anymore but notes that she likes Mick as he’s not like the many Men of Letters she’s met. Due to this observation, she’s very friendly toward him and often finds herself talking with him late at night when he cannot sleep. She was warned by Ketch that Mick has a tendency to get attached and that if she has no intention of having anything more than a friendship, she should probably keep her “affections” in check noting that her rather forward and overly friendly nature could be misconstrued by him.

Before he was killed by Ketch due to his alignment shifting, Olivia had appeared in the base in response to a subconscious prayer made to her. After having a glimpse into the future and noting many ending resulting in his death, she refuses to leave declaring they would have to make her prompting Ketch to be given an order to use an angel banishment sigil. She took his death very hard and despised Ketch more than she had due to him lying about it.

*Heaven on Earth Halfway House and Foster Home Tenants*

Olivia started the house from the ground up and has great sentimental attachment to it. She loves each and every one of the people who come through, even the ones that don’t stay for long, and provides a number services in order to give them the best possible opportunities. From free housing to resources to find jobs and day care services for new moms and those that are working, Olivia pours her heart and soul into everything she does.

In order to keep her wards safe, she provides them with instruction on protection spells, rune crafting and enochian banishment. She also provides a safe practice area for hunters to hone their skills and encourages classes in order to teach them how to protect themselves from monsters, demons and even angels. Everyone has had a basic class for self defense at the very least and Olivia makes sure they all know they don’t have to persue hunting if they don’t want but wants them to be able to protect themselves and others if needed. She’s proud of the accomplishments of her kids and displays their awards proudly in her private room, and will come to their side whenever they need her even if it’s just for company. This extends to the people who move out and settle down elsewhere.

When the angels were ejected from heaven, Olivia offered housing to those that wanted to stay neutral. She modified warding at one area of her property to allow their occupation on the grounds they remain civil with the other occupants and improved the overall angel warding to the rest of the property.

——

**Powers and Abilities**

Like her bigger ‘brothers’, Olivia has a vast arsenal of abilities and powerful skill set. While classified as the youngest and weakest archangel, she’s still on par with Raphael and a bit stronger than Gabriel. She has the unique ability to imbue strong positive emotions most commonly through touch. She also has a habit of “glowing” when feeling strong positive emotions and it changes color accordingly, eg. pink/rose for shy/bashful, yellow for happy, pale blue/white for determination. Her glow diminishes when she feels overwhelming negative emotions. Only angelic or demonic entities can see this but humans are able to as well should the emotion be strong enough. Some of her other skills include:

*Angelic Possession*

—Like all angels, Olivia requires a vessel to interact with the world around her. When not occupying a vessel, she’s able to diminish her true form’s appearance in order to look like a bright wisp. In this form she uses emotional projections to communicate. Unlike most angels, Olivia shares control. She’s in lead most of the time but relents when her vessel exerts a desire to switch.

*Super Strength/Stamina*

—Olivia is able to imbue her vessel with incredible strength and stamina, able to never tire and easily take down any opponent. She’s able to crack stone and even bend steel with a single punch or kick without breaking her stride.

*Teleportation*

—Thanks to her overly large sized wings, she’s able to teleport at will and she can bring up to three people if she wishes.

*Telekinesis*

—Olivia is able to easily toss people and objects with her mind, usually with a flick of her head or a hand gesture. When she’s feeling particularly angry or agitated she’ll snap her finger like Lucifer, Gabriel and God and when she’ll feeling mischievous she’ll blow some wind in the direction of the object/person

*Telepathy*

—Olivia is able to communicate silently with other angels, demons, and even humans. She’s also able to hear “Angel Radio” but isn’t particular to eavesdropping as there tends to be “a lot of yelling and politics”.

*Chronokinesis*

—Olivia is able to travel back in time thanks to her wings. She’s able to go a considerable distance but has her limits.

*Immortality/Invulnerability*

—Olivia has an indefinitely long lifespan, and is unaffected by diseases and toxins. She never tires and does not require food, sleep, water, or oxygen to survive. She’s also immune to any and all conventional weapons including the basic angel blade

*Spell Casting*

—She has great knowledge of spells; heavenly, demonic and human; and rune crafting having passed this knowledge down to her vessel’s ancestors and her tenants for protection and offense purposes. She’s even used this skill to keep her plot of land and those that reside within safe from harm, even from the effects of the apocalypse

*Healing*

—She’s able to heal any wound or illness with just a touch

*Clairsentience/Supernatural Perception*

—Olivia is able to tell the difference between humans and supernatural entities. She’s also able to see, or at least sense accurately, beings who are naturally invisible.

*Low-Tier Precognition*

—Olivia is able to see into the future though not as accurately as Michael or Lucifer, rather she sees all possible outcomes and not just the outcome that will come to pass

*Regeneration*

—Should her vessel become damaged, Olivia is able to repair the damage as if it never happened. She takes great care to not have to use this ability as she doesn’t want to hurt her friend in the first place

*Mental Manipulation/Sedation*

—Through just a touch she’s able to alter memories, even removing them completely, and can put people to sleep

*Nigh-Omniscience*

—While not as old as Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, or Gabriel, Olivia possesses incredible knowledge. Although she’s unaware of what happened with the Darkness, who she was, or what happened prior to her creation, she still has a relatively deep knowledge of things related to the universe and within it

*Lower Tier Nigh-Omnipotence*

—While technically the youngest archangel Olivia still possesses a vast amount of supernatural power. Classified as the weakest she’s still not anything to sneeze at, capable of giving a solid beating to her older siblings should they need it

*Apporting*

—Olivia is able to send people and monsters away and bring them back at will, usually with just a glance or nod of her head

*Astral Projection/Emotional Projection*

—Skill learned from Gabriel and Lucifer after spending so much time with them, she’s able to project her form even when Tal’na has control to disorient her opponent, or purely entertainment purposes. She’s managed to refine this skill to project her emotions when not in a vessel in order to communicate

*Supernatural Concealment*

—Though not as refined as God, she’s able to hide her whereabouts when she doesn’t want to be found. Stronger individuals, including Gabriel, are able to find her though she doesn’t make it easy even for them

*Biokinesis*

—Often used when taken off guard by something someone has or is in the middle of saying, Olivia is able to keep people and other beings from speaking. Should she become particularly irritated, she can temporarily erase a being’s features such as eyes, nose, mouth or ears

*Holy White Light*

—Olivia is able to generate an overwhelming white light to obliterate specific targets while leaving nearby beings unaffected. While on the weaker end of the scale it’s still devastating though her grace is left heavily depleted

*Reality Warping/Illusions*

—While she’s not particularly skilled in this area, she’s capable of altering reality similar to how Gabriel and Lucifer can. She doesn’t go into as great detail as they but can use it to escape dangers and protect herself and others. She mainly uses illusions for entertainment purposes and adding a little flair though she’s capable of using it for distractions

*Terrakinesis*

—Involuntary reaction to extreme negative emotions, Olivia can create tremors and, when enraged, can cause volcanic eruptions if one is in the vicinity wether it’s dormant or extinct

*Hand to Hand Combat/Swordsmanship*

—She’s extremely capable in hand to hand combat and highly proficient in swordsmanship, able to go toe to toe with masters. She often spars with the members of the hunter families to help them train and keep both hers and their skills sharp

*Smiting*

—She doesn’t like doing this but is able to smite demons, monsters and even other angels with a touch. She’s even able to pull a demon or angel out of their vessel to smite them in order to spare the person if they’re still alive

*Grace Imparting*

—Delicate procedure in which she is able to give a portion of her grace to another non angel/demon. It works best and with less risks if it’s a former vessel or someone best suited to becoming a vessel. She doesn’t do this often given the risks

*Rapid Grace Regeneration *

—Because she cannot properly contain her grace, she produces an over abundance of it allowing her to bounce back much quicker from depletion. This process leaves her exhausted, however, so she doesn’t often take advantage of it unless she needs to

**Weaknesses**

Being an archangel, not much is capable of killing her for good. An archangel blade, Michael’s lance and stronger beings such as her ‘brothers’, God, Amara and Death are the only know ways. Other, not so deadly weakness include:

*Lucifer’s Cage*

—capable of holding her should she ever be sent there

*Enochian Sigils*

—she can still be banished, bound and warded against using enochian sigils

*Holy Fire*

—while it can’t kill her, it can heavily damage her vessel if set ablaze. She also cannot cross a holy fire barrier but after a while can render it ineffective

*Low/Lack of Grace*

—low grace leaves her in a vulnerable state and unable to use most of her angelic powers. Should she become injured, she would need a long time to heal. Complete lack of grace would render her human and thus vulnerable to any and all weapons and disease.

*Supernatural Handcuffs*

—when low on grace she can be bound by the cuffs. Even when she’s not powered down the cuffs diminish her abilities to the level equivalent of having low grace

*First Blade*

—while not able to kill her it can seriously inhibit her abilities and requires a long recovery period from injuries sustained by it

**Personality**

Contrary to most angels, Olivia has a bubbly personality and usually wears a big smile. She can sometimes get very shy, usually when great amounts of attention are put on her, and is easily flustered when surprised. She cares a great deal about those close to her doing everything she can to make them happy and protect them. Despite her usually happy demeanor, she’s capable of hyper focusing and becoming very serious to the point she can scare Lucifer, Michael and sometimes God. She’s extremely loyal and it takes a significant event for her to break it which often results in her becoming despondent.

Self proclaimed “tiny but mighty” Olivia uses her unusual personality-to-entity to her advantage and finds it amusing when she surprises others. Because she has a habit of suppressing her grace she can cause others to underestimate her easily. Lucifer and Gabriel remark that you really don’t want to get her angry while Michael and Raphael, who don’t ever really seem fazed by it, acknowledge she’s not whose anger is to be taken lightly. Sometimes she jokes she takes after God when it comes to her temper though she doesn’t have the juice to “throw a reality-erasing tantrum” and really doesn’t like getting that angry.

Here, have true form Olivia :3

#art #supernatural archangel #supernatural #fan character #fan art #character profile

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rilenerocks · 5 years

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I wonder if all people are born equipped for life’s passions. And if they are, is the capacity for them the same for everyone? Does everyone start out with a genetically determined amount or is there an infinite level that is sometimes achieved and sometimes not, depending on what happens to each of us? I’ve spent quite a bit of time thinking about this. Some people seem like they’re boiling over with passion and others act so subdued that it’s hard to know if they’ve every experienced a single moment of that powerful sensation.

I think passion has lots of different connotations, both positive and negative. Some passions are conscious and others lurk below our mind’s surface. They can be enriching and growth-inducing or deleterious and damaging to our health. Passion can be enthusiasm and avid devotion. It can be overwhelming in both rage and love. It can be intense sexual attraction. It can be vehemence and anger. Probably it’s combinations of a wide range of feelings and this can be very confusing. I know that I’ve felt all types of passions ever since I was a little kid.

When I was about five, I got a chameleon. I loved it so much I squeezed it to death. What a horror. I was way too young to understand the implications of the potential for destruction associated with a positive feeling. But I learned more and more about that as I grew up. My parents told me I was born loving everyone and everything and that people loved me back. My mom said she was afraid someone might steal me, most particularly my dad’s sister, someone she detested. My older brother told me he first remembered being truly happy when I came along. Sad for him but good for me. I did love so many things with a passion. I loved my parents. I loved warm milk. I loved animals. I loved fudgsicles and chocolate popsicles. I loved playing outside. I loved school and school supplies, especially crayons, erasers and glue. So I guess I started out with my fair share of passions.

As I got older, I extended all that passionate love to people. I loved my friends. I started to love boys. I loved sports and movies. I loved justice. So much passion. It wasn’t long before I started getting knocked around by reality. Reality was that just because I loved what I loved didn’t mean that I was going to reap big returns on my passionate investments. I loved school but after 9th grade, it mostly bored me to death and as I went off on my own to learn, my grades tanked. I had just enough natural talent to take me into college but nothing about that structure worked any better for me at that level.

Then I realized that the just world I dreamed of may as well have been in a galaxy far, far away. The disappointment from that discovery ignited my negative passions which are still going strong today. Always something to be furious about and to fight against. Fuel for my engine.

I loved participating in sports but that brought me negative attention. I wanted to be an attractive girl but my youthful participation brought me the nickname “moose” which had a profoundly negative effect on the joy I found as an athlete. In my junior year of high school I cut 60 PE classes and as a senior, had to make them all up, two for one, in order to graduate. On swimming days, I was soaking wet on and off for hours. But I still loved sports although I became more of an observer rather than a participant. I still have my swimming but at one point I dreamed of smashing home runs and spiking volleyballs for a long time. I made it back to volleyball as an adult, playing while pregnant. Maybe that vibe is why my daughter turned out to be an exceptional athlete in a time that was somewhat kinder to women than the days of my youth. Although not yet kind enough. But let me stay on track here.

I was a passionate friend and potentially a passionate girlfriend when I was a kid. I fell in love easily. And I stayed there. There’s another component to my particular brand of passion – loyalty. My husband and my kids always told me I was the most loyal person they ever knew. That’s probably a fair assessment. Once committed to someone, at least in my own mind, if not in actual practice with the person I’ve sekected, I stayed put. I’m hard to get rid of once I’ve made my choices. Despite the fire that burns in me so frequently, I’m not the type to flame out. My burn is slow and long-lasting. A lot of disappointment and pain have to happen before I walk away from someone. I guess it’s fair to say that I have personal standards of how people should treat one another, my rules, for sure. But I’ll bend and accommodate for a long time before I give up on a person. Over the years, I’ve developed what I call my permanent list. I have occupants on that list who said or did something egregious enough so that I know I’ll never forget it, at least as long as my brain is functioning. But for the most part, that list is of those individuals who are beyond my forgiveness. I know that’s not a very politically correct attitude in current culture. Forgiveness is a real thing advocated around me. Being unforgiving is supposed to be bad for you, toxic and unhealthy.

Your Greatest Strength

Social intelligenceBeing aware of the motives/feelings of others and oneself; knowing what to do to fit into different social situations; knowing what makes other people tick.VIRTUE CATEGORY: HUMANITY

Forgiveness Forgiving those who have done wrong; accepting others’ shortcomings; giving people a second chance; not being vengeful.VIRTUE CATEGORY: TEMPERANCE

I took a personality trait test from a Yale-sponsored class a few months ago. You answer all these questions and a list of your character traits ranked from best to worst is generated. My best trait was emotional intelligence, followed by loyalty and my worst was the inability to forgive. Sounded right. And it works for me. Michael was always trying to get me to let things go and be more forgiving. He said my hot rage and grudge holding was going to damage me physically. Well, look who’s still here and who isn’t? I’m living on the terms that suit me.

I guess I got the most bashed around emotionally by my first serious college boyfriend. I thought I was going to marry him. The truth is, I thought I was going to marry everyone I ever loved, going all the way back to when I was five years old. But this was the first genuinely reciprocated love I’d felt as a grownup and despite warning flags about not being ready and immaturity, I was convinced that if I fought hard enough, I could make this happen, even with evidence to the contrary popping up regularly and painfully. We were together on and off for three years. One morning after feeling that we’d had the best night of our life, I woke up to him telling me that we needed to break up and that things just couldn’t work. I was astonished, hurt and enraged. As he made his way out of my apartment, I followed him into the street, screaming at the top of my lungs that he would never find anyone who loved him the way I did and that he’d regret this decision for the rest of his life. My roommate and another friend dragged me back into the house as his metallic blue Chevy Hornet pulled away.

The fact is, he did figure that out later but by that time, I’d mostly recovered and was with Michael with whom I spent the rest of his life. Sadly, not the rest of our lives. Michael helped me rebuild myself and to believe that I could trust someone and reestablish my belief that a lifelong positive passion was possible. I’d already figured out that I could hang on to my negative passions about feminism, politics, economic justice, the health of the planet and the like. But I wasn’t sure about people. One of the places I put my positive passions was to sports, both teams and individuals. I could afford to invest myself in those without personal disappointments that had left me flattened and despairing. I picked my loyalties and stayed with them. I had favorite teams and players. I watched everything, football, basketball, hockey, swimming and became an Olympics junkie. As time went on I added tennis and soccer. I still remember the uniform numbers of those individuals who for whatever reason, won my heart. Jean Beliveau, #4 – Montreal Canadiens. Doug Mohns, #11 – Chicago Blackhawks. Doug Buffone, #55 – Chicago Bears. Fred Biletnikoff, #25 – Oakland Raiders. I could go on and on. A lot of my friends were surprised that I was so into sports, as many of them, particularly the contact ones dominated by males, seemed in direct conflict with my feminist politics. But I didn’t care what it seemed like. My personal passionate commitments had cost me a significant amount of emotional angst. I think I was born with a fairly deep reservoir for giving but I’d come to realize that when I put myself out there, I’d best be prepared to be doing it because I needed to for me and not because of what I expected in return. I’d had a lot of disappointment from family, friends and lovers. With sports, the worst that could happen was that your favorites could lose. The pain threshold for those things was tolerable for me, easier than all the personal disappointments. At least, it always had been for many years. When the silent switch happened, I really wasn’t aware of it at all. I’ve only just figured out that my lines had gotten blurred below the surface of my consciousness because of what life dealt out to me. I was too busy in the living of it to recognize that I’d set myself up for a whole new undoing.

So these sports. As a Chicagoan and a southsider, I loved the White Sox. I branched out and embraced the Cubs. I was a hockey fan and I sat with my dad as he agonized over DePaul’s basketball team. Except for golf, I’d watch almost anything. Eventually, tennis got my attention. I watched the women, Billie Jean King, Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova, Steffi Graf and of course, finally Venus and Serena. I admired their skills and grit. But I always loved the boys and most particularly, the ones who behaved well, rarely had tantrums or broke their rackets and in general, seemed to play against that spoiled brat type. No John McEnroes or Ilie Nastases for me.

I liked the cool Swede Bjorn Borg, who played like a smooth machine. After him, it was Pete Sampras, who was just a kid when he started and had a long 14 year career, complete with those beautiful serves and the tenacity to keep playing after vomiting on the court from sickness and dehydration. The civilized guys. I made an exception for Jimmy Connors sometimes because he had high entertainment value. There were a few Australians thrown into the mix and the Croat Goran Ivanisevic who had sporadic talent but took forever to win the big tourney. But in the middle of Pete’s reign, Roger Federer appeared on the scene. And that was all she wrote for me.

Federer broke into the big time as a teenager and was kind of a punk for awhile. But the tragic car wreck death of his Australian coach when he was 21 was a life changing event for him. Between that and his relationship with his older girlfriend who eventually became his wife, he pulled himself together and became who he is today, a brilliant champion, a genuinely loved public figure and a generous philanthropist. In short, my favorite tennis player.

Federer’s been playing for 21 years. I’ve watched him countless times and always enjoyed his grace, elegance and tenacity. For most of those years I watched him and the other players during the four major tournaments, the Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon and the US Open. There was a lot of other tennis happening off my radar, many tournaments and point systems for rankings. I didn’t really care about that stuff. I was happy with what I saw, read articles so I had some idea of the background for the majors, and was generally content.

When Michael got sick seven and a half years ago, that was where I was at. As we processed his disease and what we knew would be a limited future, I was trying to get a handle on interests that would distract me from the constant pressure of anticipating death. Michael liked tennis too and had played for years as a young man. Often we watched matches together. But as time went by and we rode the waves of anxiety, I started to seek out more and more information about tennis. We’d switched cable tv providers and the Tennis Channel was included in our package. I realized that there were all kinds of tournaments and that Roger participated in lots of them. He was famous for holding records in places that had never crossed my radar. And we had a DVR. I started taping everything. When I had nothing to do, I started watching more tennis. I liked other players but Roger was the one. As the months of Michael’s illness progressed, we both labored under the strain of wondering how much time we had left to enjoy our life. Sometimes I drove my reserved husband crazy, wanting to talk through everything all the time. He was in treatment, often tired and in need of rest. I had lots of time on my hands but I wanted to stay nearby, soaking in every minute of life with Michael. So I turned to the box where Roger waited in the DVR. He was such a joy to watch. Healthy, easy and an amazing contrast to my precious guy who was carrying such a huge load. Over time, I decided that who needed a DVR when you could set an alarm and watch a tournament live from Australia, China or the Middle East? We didn’t really have a normal routine or schedule any more so I could make my own hours. As years went by, Federer’s wins or losses began to affect me more and more. The worst time came in 2016 when he sustained a knee injury while bathing one of his kids. He decided to withdraw from the professional tour for months while he rehabbed thoroughly and tried to decide if he could return and play at the championship level again.

I was worried about it but at the time I was really focused on the stretch of good health Michael was enjoying so we took advantage of an excellent fall and traveled a lot. I had concerns about some signs of immune system letdown in Michael but as late as December, 2016, we were in our happy place at Starved Rock and life seemed even and predictable. Unfortunately that languorous period was short-lived. By the first week of January, Michael’s behavior was unusual. His appetite was diminished and he had some odd moments when he wasn’t making a lot of sense. We went in to see our oncologist who did some bloodwork and ordered a scan. Everything came back clean. So on we went. Things got stranger and stranger. I began to believe that there was an occult return of Michael’s cancer and began a nagging process that drove him nuts. He wanted to leave well enough alone and I didn’t. We began bickering. Right around the same time, Roger was getting ready to emerge from his medical exile and enter the Australian Open.

As days went by, Michael’s behaviors became odder and odder and I kept dragging him back to the doctors. Meanwhile, Roger was winning match after match. I was up in the night, watching him in real time and trying to avoid arguing with Michael who was annoyed with me. The doctors kept finding nothing. On January 29th, 2017, I had the pleasure of watching Roger win his first major since being injured.

On January 31st, I prevailed upon Michael to let me bring him to the ER to see if we could get him a brain MRI, the only test he hadn’t had. By that night we had the dreadful diagnosis of carcinomatous meningitis, a rare manifestation of certain solid tumors that’s becoming more common as people survive their original cancers for longer periods of time. We were devastated, Michael even more than me as he’d believed the continuing positive reports while I knew something was terribly wrong. We had a 32 day siege in the hospital and then I was able to bring him home in early March. The median survival time for this disease was 4 weeks from diagnosis. Michael hung on for almost seventeen.

Meanwhile, the French Open began close to the end of Michael’s life and I continued to watch through June 11th. I remember thinking how ironic it was that Roger’s playing bookended the last months of Michael’s life. When July came, along came Wimbledon. I watched all of it and Roger emerged victorious. That highlighted my summer of preparing for the celebration of Michael’s life which was planned for December. When that was over, I stared down 2018, trying to figure out what to do with myself. I started this blog on January 1st. I was in the midst of planning my 50th high school reunion and also wanted to do a little traveling.

I finally landed on the Western-Southern Open tennis tournament in Cincinnati, a chance to see Roger in the flesh for the first time. As he was getting older I figured I’d better get that bucket list item done. Additionally, the Laver Cup, Roger’s creation was happening in Chicago, at the same time as my reunion.

I bought tickets to that as well. Both events were wonderful and I was so glad I went. Roger won some and lost some and I felt satisfied. But as time passed I found watching him, especially when he lost, to become more and more stressful. I was aware of the negative feelings but not sure what to do about them. Each match got worse and worse. This was not supposed to be my relationship with sports. I was irritable, frustrated and hostile. I could barely stand being with myself. When my son was around he tried to be comforting but I was basically so obnoxious he’d wind up leaving me to my own devices. I started thinking really hard, going back over the seven and a half year history of Michael’s disease, death and this mourning period. A lot has happened to me during that time. I spent a lot of emotional capital during those years. I spent an extraordinary amount of love on my marriage, so much that I often wonder if I can love anyone or anything new ever again. Even a pet. And then just this past week in the midst of an ugly US Open for Roger, I recognized what I’m referring to as a silent switch. Somewhere back there, as I recognized that my time with Michael was running away, I put a lot of my heart into Roger, a sports guy who was supposed to be a distraction, not someone personal. As his fortunes ebb and he gets closer to retirement I realized that my outsized reactions are more like living through an intimate loss instead of just watching an athlete’s life come to its normal conclusion. I realized that I’d transferred some of my feelings about Michael’s absence to a weird anticipatory despair about Roger’s career coming to an end. How bizarre is that? Probably not very. Roger’s trajectory is another ending, a metaphor for what I’ve been coping with for a very long time. I didn’t recognize exactly when it happened but I know it did. And acknowledging the inappropriate outsized reactions I was having helped me see the need to face this metaphor for what is – a familiar road twisted into an inappropriate level of importance. It’s time to set it back in a more normal place. Ironically, during this week of internal probing and exploring, I’ve been outside in my garden a lot. I had no trouble identifying two adult butterflies, feeding, still strong but battered by predators, perhaps by wind. But still living out there in the world. I was aware that I identified with them. No silent switching in this case. Awareness is hard and often mysterious. I’m going to keep going after it. It’s better than living in the dark.

The Silent Switch I wonder if all people are born equipped for life’s passions. And if they are, is the capacity for them the same for everyone?

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rilenerocks · 5 years

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Your Greatest Strength

Forgiveness Forgiving those who have done wrong; accepting others’ shortcomings; giving people a second chance; not being vengeful.VIRTUE CATEGORY: TEMPERANCE

The Silent Switch I wonder if all people are born equipped for life’s passions. And if they are, is the capacity for them the same for everyone?

0 notes