holyblcd

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A  PEAK  AT  WHAT’S  INSIDE  THEIR          .    .    .

[  *  ]      writing prompt      )         :             send a number  1 - 30  to take a closer look inside this characters life.        /        below you will find a series of various prompts offering a look inside a characters every day life.        these are meant to invoke character development     &     can also be altered as seen fit to better suit the character in question.         bonus if you explain why it’s there!

01.     pockets. 02.     bag   /   purse. 03.     car trunk. 04.     car glovebox. 05.     closet. 06.     bedside table drawer. 07.     medicine cabinet. 08.     wallet. 09.     “junk” drawer. 10.     pantry. 11.     phone home screen. 12.     frequently used emojis. 13.     to do list. 14.     computer home screen. 15.     bookcase. 16.     cd collection. 17.     calendar for this month. 18.     “secret” hiding spot. 19.     five most recent in contact list.  20.     refrigerator.  21.     home safe.  22.     amazon shopping cart.  23.     bank account.  24.     first aid kit.  25.     five most recent in google search history.  26.     most used playlist.  27.     least used playlist.  28.     five most recent sent text messages  29.     five most recent received text messages  30.     netflix watch history. 

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a smile appeared on his lips when the other tried to reassure him that it was ALRIGHT, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. it was a tight thin line, barely curving. it wasn't easy to accept this - that he had little control over his ability. joe had always been a perfectionist ; loving structure, control, discipline and organization. it was what made him or rather HAD made him into a great leader, a captain, of his hockey team. it was why he had managed to reach the night sky and become a shining star within the hockey world.

and that strive for perfection still lived inside him, though it didn't show as much these days. now he just tried to SURVIVE from sunrise to sunset. and it was difficult considering that his power seemed to thrive in this age of technology and wonders. sometimes joe wished that he could leave all of this and just move to the woods and live without no electricity and modern gadgets. but that would just be a temporary solution. damn, this situation was TOUGH. he was happy that oliver was there. despite it all, it was nice to have someone like him around. a mutant. who could understand all this shit. the blonde man wiped beads of sweat away from his brow before taking a deep breath, steading himself. " maybe some tea first and then some talk? i don't think i'm gonna fall asleep any time soon. " /@daelete

unprompted | @stcrforged asked: lungs were on fire, burning, SCREAMING for oxygen. his mind was filled of images of the past and the taste of iron filled his mouth. a punch. another punch. and the kicking. it neverended. until wires began to creep beneath his skin. crawling. it was too much. too much. eyes wide open, body jerking. he was suddenly sitting up, panting. joe then noticed the mess. he had accidentally used his power while sleeping. the technology around him had come alive. going HAYWIRE. " fuck. " the former professional hockey player got up, starting to tidy up. a sigh left him when the toaster had been returned to it's rightful place. it wasn't until then he heard a noise. head turn, guilt written all over his face. " sorry. nightmare. " / yeets joe at oliver!

Oliver wasn't always a light sleeper, he actually use to sleep rather heavy once upon a time but not anymore and not for a long time now. He wakes up quickly when there's a ruckus in the home. There's panic that someone had broken in looking for either him or Joe for that matter but he realizes as he stumbles out of his bedroom that it was the others mutation acting up in his sleep. He can't help but feel guilty, his own mutation made Joe's mutation stronger and left him with more than a few issues with it that he now had to live with. Old floors creak as he takes a step and he watches that gaze fall on his form, other having heard the floors creaking it'd seem.

❛ Stop . . . You don't have to apologize for having a nightmare or for your power acting out because of it. It's okay. ❜ They were both people that had their own reasons to be plagued by nightmares and neither of them should have to apologize for having them ( even if he'd likely do it too if this situation was reversed ). ❛ Wanna talk about it or would you like me to make some calming tea instead ? ❜ So maybe it'd help Joe get more rest, peaceful and good rest that he deserves after having a nightmare.

[holyblcd]

fargo (1996) dir. ethan coen, joel coen

[holyblcd]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN –– HELP ME GET A PUPPY!

commissions have been slow lately (which i understand, the world has been a crazy place), and i've been relying more on trying to get my psds out there and get sales up. this is my full time job. i'm fortunate enough to have a living situation that allows that, but that does mean that when expenses come up, i do rely on them. around a month ago, i lost my dog unexpectedly. we took him in for a vet check up that turned much more somber, and since then there has been a gigantic void. while i have taken time to mourn and reflect, there has been developments in a possible new puppy to add to our family. however, that means that i need commissions to kick up again so that i can have some money on the side for things that she'll need! so if you could send in a commission form, that'd be excellent! for a limited time, any commission over $30.00 USD automatically gets a 5% discount.

not interested in a commission? you can help by purchasing my psds or icon borders on deviantart or ko-fi! or if there's something you're interested in and you want to bundle or not pay fees, you can absolutely message me and i can give you a paypal invoice instead.

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nothing but tears had been her companion as she had wept through the ages. the grief which seemed to be never ending, escaped together with the tears that left her closed eyes and it began, somehow, to fade away, only to be replaced with RAGE. a fire that burned brighter than the sun. a hatred so deep it kept her alive until the first drop of aesir blood landed on freshly fallen snow. eyes were suddenly wide open. and then - a deep breath. the earth began to rumble as she moved, breaking free from her own prison. the sight before her broke her heart. it was a cruel reminder of what had happened all those years ago. EVERYTHING was gone. no laughter, no beating hearts, no warming fires. she was met with silence and ruins. to see this after such a deep slumber was heavy but the aesir was known to be vicious. why else would they slaughter her folk? her family?

the jötunn fell to her knees, snow in her hands. the cold was biting her pale skin and yet she felt nothing. she felt too much. and so she let out a roar that SHOOK the mountains, the sky and the sea. it echoed between all the realms. it would be known that the the giant, the guardian of bears, heidrun, had finally awoken from her sleep and she was hungry for blood. she rose. not only from the ground but from her sorrow. she felt for the spear and it still there, at her side, after all these years.

the hunting had begun and she was NO longer the prey. ancient magic that once had thought to be forgotten began to fill jötunheim. it swirled around the giant woman as she moved swiftly through the woods. this was her home after all. soon the footprints was replaced with prints of giant paws. a scream - which could only mean that men of bad blood had arrived uninvited in her home. heidrun was no fool. she understood that her mighty roar had been heard and that they had come for her. good.

but it was not the source of the scream she searched first for. no, her nose had caught the scent of someone, or rather, a group of different individuals. there - up on a cliff! silence followed her steps and DEATH lurked behind her. she would take them by surprise. sharp teeth met metal and flesh. the snow was now covered in red. she shook her head while holding a throat between her jaws and then she threw the soldier of the top. she cared little of the wounds she received from them. this was nothing compared to the SUFFERING she had felt for so many years. in fact it served her as a reminder - that she was alive and the rest of her kin were not. so one by one the giant bear threw them from the top after crushing their bones. their hope.

she then leaped, jumping into the air, FALLING, but she was not afraid. not today. anger burned behind brown eyes as they located the source of the scream. her next victim. her prey. and it was in the air she began to shirt, to transform, from a huge bear to a large woman. the very earth beneath her shook from the impact of the landing, not far away from the young god. the long spear cut through the air, its' sharp point against his throat. the short distance between them was filled with nothing but silence and yet... it was vibrating of her anger and rage. her grief and sorrow. " how PATHETIC. already bleeding? the woods remember your sins and you will suffer for it. " she remembers him. heimdall. she remembers them all and would do so until her time had come to an end. " fight. "

@holyblcd liked for a starter [ x ]! (for heidrun!)

His duty as watchman was very important, and Heimdall took it very seriously. While the rest of the Asgardians and Einherjar went about their day doing whatever it was they pleased, Heimdall was sat at his usual spot atop Himinbjörg. It was here he did most of his watching, and here he slept when he needed. Normally, days passed without much event. Maybe there were strange happenings in the villages located just outside the wall or further in the realm, but in Asgard, things remained relatively peaceful if not tense. They were, after all, preparing for a war, and the Allfather could not be everywhere at once, so trusted Heimdall to be the first to call out danger. At least, that's what he assumed was the case.

He heard it in the earth, in the wind, in the sky when she awoke. Jotunheim rattled and roared so loudly that Heimdall had been shaken awake and startled with what he saw when he ran past the cabin doors. He saw her, the strange woman bursting forth in rage, and knew Asgard faced a terrible danger. Yet, when he relayed to Odin what he had seen, the watchman was met with a flippant response of "It's just one woman, there's no need to panic." And while he didn't argue the point any further, her awakening in Jotunheim of all places was a dreadful, nagging feeling deep in his stomach he just couldn't shake. So, gathering a few of Odin's fighters with the promise of a great battle, Heimdall had resolved to see the problem for himself. Through some careful wording and much insistence, Odin reluctantly let the golden-toothed god off with a raven.

Stepping through the haze of feathers, Heimdall is first greeted by the chilling cold. Jotunheim had fallen deathly silent since the genocide of its people, until now. Yet, as he scans the horizon, past the numerous bodies fallen victim to Odin's sickness, he sees nothing. Hears nothing. The Einherjar, eager for something to battle, are a little further ahead of Heimdall, talking amongst themselves. This was wrong. How could something so loud and violent just disappear from view?

He steps toward the edge of the cliff on which he stood and peered into the foggy depths below. Ugh. Giants. Couldn't even die gracefully. His lip curls in annoyance as he turns toward his entourage.

"Don't go too far!" He calls out. "She may still b-" Yet, before he can finish his sentence, the ground beneath his feet gives way, and he plummets into the depths below with a shrill shriek. Heimdall desperately grasps the edge of the cliff in an attempt to catch something but earns nothing but bloodied hands in return. He pulls out his sword and embeds it into the stone - but he is falling far too fast, and it is ripped from his grip; a shining, golden thorn in the desolate gray of the cliff.

The watchman lands with a loud crunch and gasps in pain - or was that the air being forced from his lungs? He struggles on the ground for a moment, wrestling with the pain and fighting for air until he falls still, curled up and gripping his shoulder. His breathing is ragged and he fights back tears. From above, he can hear the concerned calls of his idiotic company, now left to fend for themselves. Not that it mattered. Should they die here, they'd simply be brought back to Valhalla and then to Asgard. Must've been nice. Heimdall, on the other hand, wasn't quite so sure that he'd face the same fate if he succumbed to his injuries - or the woman that ripped free from the earth.

"Fuck!" He hisses, forcing himself onto his rear. "Fuck!" His arm was broken and shoulder dislocated, bent in a freakish, abnormal manner. He groans, leaning forward and shutting his eyes tightly. "Dammit..!"

[holyblcd]

i wanna make it unequivocally clear that there are no time limits when it comes to rping with me. idc if you're scrolling through your drafts and you find a thread of ours from two years ago+ and you wanna continue it... but you're afraid i'll be upset with you bc it's been so long...

babes, i am holding your face so gently when i say this: do the thing. i promise, the only thing i'mma be when i see that notif is excited

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the EMERALD witch. ancient and powerful. that was the little information scout harding had given her when they had arrived at the emerald graves. it had been leliana's idea to visit this witch. that perhaps this person could help them understand the mark on her hand and what was happening. it was a dangerous idea but it was better than none.

the forest seemed to grow thicker and thicker. it seemed... ancient and almost WICKED. it unsettled something inside agrona. she didn't like things she didn't understand. like magic. she (and the others ; varric, iron bull and dorian) stopped in a clearing. it felt as if something or someone watched them. emerald eyes gazed around, observing. " i know you're here! " agrona actually had no clue if this witch was hiding, waiting to strike, but she hoped she hadn't made a fool out of herself. " we just want to talk. " /@motheredearth

[holyblcd]

hit the HEART for a starter from any of the following muses;

agrona cadash (dragon age, inquisitor)

ceridwen of the whispering wilds (dnd oc, verses: critical role, bg3, cos)

nuada hellmark (dnd oc, verses: critical role, bg3, dragon age)

tristan duskblade (dnd oc, verses: critical role, bg3, dragon age)

heidrun (dragon age oc)

andromeda (avowed oc, verses: bg3, dnd)

violet lewis (x-men oc)

michelle courtet (x-men oc)

benjamín minguez haden (x-men oc)

louie bell (fallout oc)

lea haugen (fallout oc)

[holyblcd]

things i really want to explore (write):

agrona cadash!! doesn't matter if it's inquisition or veilguard or whatever!

violet's future as being a leader of a motocycle gang only consisting of mutants that have been let down by both xavier and magneto, tearing apart facilities across north america that experiments on mutants.

violet meeting or joining the thunderbolts.

benjamín letting go of his control, just letting it all out.

benjamín hunger games

fallout, anything fallout.

calypso!! one piece!!

exploring da verse or bg3 verses with my ocs

heidrun!!

[holyblcd]

the words were DAGGERS, making his heart bleed out. and the cut only became deeper and deeper after every word that left the other's lips. those who said that words didn't hold any power have never truly been in love. the mage stopped. he felt paralyzed, but above all - useless. worthless. he didn't know what to do or say. it was so unlike him. all he ever wanted was to comfort his amatus, but how? dorian could feel the distance GROWING between them even though they were in the same room, only a feet or so apart from each other. " zaahyr... " a deep breath - then a decision was made.

one step to close the gap between them. he gently put his arms around him (and YET it felt as if he hold on for dear life, never wanting to let go). dorian burried his nose in his neck, inhaling. he wanted to remember his scent forever. his skin. his hair. all of it. " i would never forgive myself if something happened to you in tevinter. i would feel responsible even though i know you're capable of defending yourself. " and exhale. his breath was unsteady. shaky. " there are so many dangers in my country. venatori, blood magic, MY father and maker knows what. it would kill me, losing you. " and then there was the fact that many still frowned upon those who loved another person of the same sex or gender. that was one thing he would miss from ferelden. people didn't frown upon it as much here (though that said little). " and i'm NOT returning now and not tomorrow. we can still figure out this together. "

His mouth opens, only to snap shut tight. Zaahyr expected an easy welcome to tag along despite the dangers Tevinter posed. It is not a place he desires to go so easily, but if Dorian is to go back there, that will be enough for him. To push through anything, to be more careful, to find a way—instead, he is given a barrier. One that creates a burn within his chest of a heart aching. ❛ I have nowhere to go, Dorian, ❜ Zaahyr repeats, voice straining. The day has been hard, the night even more so. He has to rectify with the damage done, he has to fix what he knows he cannot. ❛ Where will you visit me? My home is gone. Skyhold is not safe either. You are the only home I have. ❜ But it feels odd to fight to be at the side of Dorian.

He does not want you.

Zaahyr bites back, swallowing the poisoned thought. Dorian thinks with a logic Zaahyr is perhaps too naive to think of. A souring desire to not want to be alone anymore. He turns his head away from the mage regardless, back to the window as his hand twists in the empty sleeve. How does one make a life after the truth that has come to light? How does one pick up the pieces? Are there any pieces left, or have they been cast to the flame just as his whole way of life has? And the markings on his face ... Zaahyr's expression twists, his eyes burn, but he swallows the tears. He will not cry now. ❛ Dorian, ❜ he says quietly, a croak of a voice. ❛ You must be tired. Go to sleep, tomorrow is an early day. ❜

[holyblcd]

“Don’t you dare, for one minute, believe that my kindness makes me anything but insurmountable. I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt, and stagger back, wounded and alive, just to hear you call me weak for trying.”

— Ashe Vernon (aka latenightcornerstore), from her poem, Softness, in Words Dance 16.

[holyblcd]

smash that button and let me send you some memes!

[holyblcd]

smash that button and let me send you some memes!

[holyblcd]

― Han Kang, Human Acts

[holyblcd]

the tender touch was a spark - IGNITING a warm feeling that spread through his body. safety. home. for him it was not a place. it was a feeling. like this one. and there was only one person who could evoke that emotion. charlotte. she was so much more than the woman he loved. she was a leader. a fearless fighter. she had helped him with his abilities when no one else had dared. she was EVERYTHING. she was home. it felt strange to think that months ago this wouldn't had been possible. it wouldn't have happened. it would have been a dream and nothing more. " then i suppose i will have to shower you with compliments instead, my good lady. "

hand gently guided hers to his chest, stopping right over his heart. how it beat for her and ONLY her. " i wouldn't have come so far without you. " warm browm eyes looked at her, into her very soul. " you're a goddess to me. you have changed me in so many ways, charlotte. before you i didn't dare to dream, to think what the future might hold. i just tried to survive. to run away from my fears. from MYSELF. but then i met you. i learned to embrace the power within me and... i found love. i never thought i would find it, even less deserve it. it still feels so unreal, to wake up beside you. sometimes i wonder if you're even real. if you're here. " benjí reached out for her, touching her cheek softly. to reassure himself that she was there. in front of him.

fingers reach forward –– gently, she runs a thumb along the new scar that he's obtained; put together so casually like kintsugi. he is the embodiment of things that shouldn't be but that come together beautifully. there was a time when they wouldn't have been able to be this close, when his power would've raged out of control; gripping him around the throat and making him scared. he has since gained control –– and with it, she feels like he has gained a confidence that she never thought she'd see. honestly, as much as she wants to feel proud that she has seemed to take a scared mutant and make them proud instead, it's less of a leader mentality and more personal. maybe it's because this has been personal to her; she swipes against his skin once more and hums lightly, a soft sigh following.

" mm, i think you're starting to get greedy for compliments, good sir. " but there is a honeyed warmth in her as his lips brush against her own; her heart pounds as she swallows hard. giving her heart to someone hasn't been easy –– she doesn't regret it though. no, even if he ends up leaving, she will know that benjamin at least was a good thing that had happened. her cheeks flush though at the compliment and she rolls her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck. " stop, i'm not a goddess. you think too highly of me. " she's not used to it –– all the positive attention. her thumb runs along his jaw for a moment in thought. " you've come so far. i'm so proud. "

[holyblcd]

Mystic Pines | Fallout 4 (2015)

[holyblcd]

i'm so pleased with my new aesthetics! just updated the picture in the pinned post.