#Genevieve Bellerose

[angeaxil]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

OH MY this Question!! MADE MY DAY IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE I SWEAR TO GODD AND I WAS DESPERATE TO SHARE MORE BUT WITH ALL IM BOMBARED WITH IN MY LAW STUDIES GAWWD AAA—

I think I was the proudest of my creations when I joined the TGAA fandom was to create a TGAA OC (that is Genevieve) that was born out of loving a canon character who didn’t have the spotlight for long. Perhaps my curiosity, interest and infatuation piqued when I saw Lady Baskerville, wanted to know more of her, and was bummed with how they treated her at the end of DGS2... perhaps my love for her was SO MUCH that I desperately wanted to create a lore, personality, and a fanon relative... or simply because that was MY WAY of showing appreciation to the franchise like all my fellow tgaa OC fanon content creators!

The other being the upcoming prequel to The Great Ace Attorney fanon story “the Child of the Baskervilles” to highlight some importance to Lady Baskerville and how Genevieve was acquainted with her, and then to introduce the van Zieks family and the rest of the characters that were there before the occurrence of the Professor Killings... The process is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT AND HARD but I’m working on it!

edit: I have just realized just how LONG THIS HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY DRAFTS and how I was too scared to even post it!! It’s long overdue but I’ll DO IT! 💖

[quillandink333]

Follow the Sun

Kazuma Asougi × Original Character

SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT ACE ATTORNEY CHRONICLES ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

WARNINGS: depression, amnesia, psychosis, mild swearing

Summary: The botanist gets a bit too settled into her new status quo, and the amnesiac finds himself in an unexpected yet strangely familiar position.

Notes: Special thanks to @angeaxil and @pretxel for letting me include their OCs Genevieve and Shiryen in this series! It’s both an honour and a pleasure to be able to work with these lovely girlies~

Masterlist

After four and a half years away from home, her return to London didn’t feel nearly as much like the homecoming it ought to have done. Even now, when the summer season was at its peak, the streets were far colder and foggier than she remembered.

When Cecelia arrived at the dormitory she’d resided in during the period of her academic career prior to studying in Japan, she was surprised to find everything just the way she’d left it. Not only that, but her roommate, one Shiryen Kang, who’d travelled with her as part of the same exchange programme in her own academic pursuits in the field of herbalism, was still living there in their dormitory, waiting for the day her long lost peer would return home. During their time abroad, Shiryen had come to be like the little sister she’d always wanted but never had. The look on her face the moment she saw Cecelia at their door, having had no way of knowing whether she would ever see her again until then, should have been enough to melt her heart.

Finally, she was able to conclude her scholarship just as intended, albeit a few months late. Shiryen had been holding onto and taking good care of all the hard-earned fruits of Cecelia’s forty long months of labour as well as the rest of her belongings since they’d been left behind on their boat home from Japan all those days and nights ago, and the university staff, though she didn’t deserve it, had all shown her tremendous amounts of kindness and understanding.

From that point, she and her dear friend at last went their separate ways and onward to forge a path for their respective futures. At least, such was the intent. Cecelia was lucky enough to come across a humble yet comfortable third-floor suite (which was really more of an attic) within walking distance of the marketplace at Covent Garden. The landlord, a kindly old man who ran a shoe shop on the ground floor of the building, lived on the floor below hers. The place was decent enough, and she was grateful that she could manage to afford living there all on her lonesome.

But even with all the blessings bestowed upon her, she was still plagued with unhappiness. And for this, she couldn’t help but feel guilty as well.

What reason did she have to be so deep in melancholy in spite of such hopeful circumstances? She’d had so many ambitions for what she’d do following the end of her studies, but somehow none of them seemed within reach anymore. She felt empty. Devoid of all the empowerment and drive she’d once had at the start of her journey. And her journey wasn’t over yet. The exchange programme had been nothing more than a precursor to the tasks ahead: the promise to her mother that she had yet to fulfil. Cecelia wanted desperately to see her mother again, as she wrote in a letter to her, but until she made good on her word, for her to show her face in the home she’d grown up in would be unthinkable.

Yet despite this ruthless driving force boring into her at every hour of the day, she was petrified. Every time the face of the strange, amnesia-ridden young man she’d met overseas who had accompanied her all the way home entered her thoughts, the hollowness she felt in the place where hope should have been was filled in by an uncanny bitterness that she couldn’t escape, which only weighed on her heavier when the thoughts progressed to the way he had left the SS Vitesse without a single word to her in parting. All those daydreams she’d played out in her head during the long hours of ship maintenance and cargo inspections—of the two of them together in London after they’d finally arrived, and of him by her side as she would pursue her dreams all the way to the finish line—in the end, the one chance to live them out with him that she would ever have had simply disintegrated before her eyes. She would never have another chance to fully convey to him how he’d made her feel. He was practically nothing more than a memory. And so was she to him, at most.

Like this, the days went by, and by, and by. Nothing brought her fulfilment like it used to. Every meal, not excluding her favourites, was bland and difficult to swallow. She still needed to pay back that smith in France for that beautiful piece of metal she’d worked so hard on, but with what money? The last time she’d felt this crushing misery of complete and utter uselessness had been the months following the passing of the one whose dreams she’d since resolved to carry.

As days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Cecelia was going out less and less often, until it came to her accepting just about anything as an excuse to stay shut up inside the confines of her room, clinging to some rubbish magazine or another. Anything to keep her mind from straying toward thoughts of him. She hadn’t the first idea where he’d gone to, nor any means of knowing whether he was faring well or poorly (though, having seen the signs, frankly there wasn’t much question about that). What business did she even have with him anyway? She didn’t even know his name, for pity’s sake. Dwelling on it any further was pointless. But then again, so was everything else, it seemed.

Though his evidently figmental companion kept assuring him time and time again that this was the correct path to be on, the voice rarely if ever offered him insights any less vague or more helpful than just that.

Since his audience, so to speak, with Lord Stronghart at the Supreme Court the day of his arrival, he’d realised something quite significant about himself; namely that he possessed a wealth of knowledge on the subject of British law. Of all things. When and where could he have acquired such a deeply ingrained understanding of such concepts? Had it been there all along and he simply hadn’t had the chance to make use of it until now? If Cecelia-san’s deductions on the day they’d first met were to be acknowledged, his best guess was that this had been his chosen field of study as a university student in Japan back in the day. That woman could be so clever when she wanted to be. Sometimes he worried whether he’d not been giving her the credit she deserved.

The voice cleared its intangible throat. “You’re getting off-track again. Focus.”

The apprentice prosecutor looked down through the eyes of his mask to see his quill stagnant in his hand, bleeding an unsightly blot of black ink into the paper he was writing his report on. He hung his head. Talking back to this estranged part of himself was pointless, as he had come to accept. All it would ever allow him to focus on for longer than a minute at a time now would be one of two things. One was the tasks given to him either by the Lord Chief Justice himself or by the prosecutor who’d taken him on as a pupil as ordered by Lord Stronghart. And the other was the aforementioned prosecutor himself.

‘Barok van Zieks.’ That name had been burning at the backs of his eyes ever since he’d first seen it written. Though his mentor certainly stood out from the average Londoner in more ways than one, he shared as much of a potential connection with him as any of them did, as far as he knew. Regardless, the voice insisted otherwise. Constantly it pressed, demanded, pleaded with him to remember. “Remember what?” he would ask, only to be ignored and for it to continue on with its oppressive nagging just the same.

No matter how hard he strived to remember his past with each passing day, the fear only grew that his affliction would come to swallow up the new memories he’d made along the way to where he found himself now. Cecelia-san was the one person he still had memory of who he’d formed any sort of close bond with in all his life. Some days, her radiant smile had been the only thing keeping him going. Nothing was more terrifying than the possibility that, one day, her face would fall into the realm of obscurity where all the rest lay.

But of course, that wasn’t important, was it? He just had to trust in the voice and keep his focus. Though his own objective was still shrouded in mystery, all he could do was have faith that he would reach it eventually. Focus. Focus…

His thoughts were once again interrupted by a calm knocking from the other side of the office door. This was followed by a woman’s voice. “Barok?”

“Come in.”

The apprentice didn’t turn away from his desk as the visitor entered and closed the door behind her. “I’ve made you two some cucumber sandwiches.”

“Oh, Genevieve,” sighed Van Zieks. “How many times must I remind you that you are no maid?”

“You needn’t remind me so at all. I know I’m not. Taking care of you is something I look forward to doing every day. It’s never a bother.” Then her footsteps traversed toward the apprentice’s side of the room, and a silver platter was placed down beside his unfinished report. “Here you are, dear.”

He regarded the little triangular slices of crustless bread containing what he assumed were cucumbers and some sort of colourless condiment slathered in between. He picked up a sandwich, then met the expectant gaze of the lady standing over him.

“It’s cream cheese. Have you never had cream cheese before?”

Since she’d been so kind as to go out of her way to prepare food for him as well as his mentor, he took a bite out of one of the corners. It wasn’t bad by any means. In fact, it didn’t taste like much of anything. ‘Cold’ was the only way he could think to describe it.

He took a second bite, and Miss Bellerose, as she was called, smiled, kissed the prosecutor behind him goodbye, and went on her merry way.

“Well…that’s the long and short of it, I suppose.”

Cecelia peered into the murky depths of her cold herbal tea, cupping the vessel containing it between both hands.

“I see.” Her houseguest, the one seated across from her, had her arms folded and eyes at half mast. “You’ve been through a great ordeal, it seems.” Shiryen, the other guest, meanwhile sat between the two at the hostess’ cheap, lacklustre tea table, listening quietly and attentively whilst she relayed to them her tale. “I wish I could help you find him,” continued the first guest, “but if you don’t know his name and the last time you saw him was in Dover, then…I’m afraid I don’t know what to suggest.”

With tremendous effort, Cecelia fought the tightness in her throat with a clumsy swallow.

“I’m so sorry, dear—”

“No, it’s alright.” She took a breath to collect herself, then attempted a smile. “It’s probably for the best that I leave him be, after all.”

“Oh, sunflower…” There was the deepest, most heartfelt sympathy in her manner, but no indication of disagreement.

“For what it’s worth,” Shiryen started, “I think you’ve done the best thing you could have done. Leaving him with something to remember you by, I mean. Though, I certainly wouldn’t have thought to commission a sword as a parting gift to someone like that.” She gave a sideways smile, putting a bashful blush on her friend’s face.

“I do understand your inclination to cage yourself indoors and keep your distance from others now after everything that’s happened,” said the other. “Truly I do.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it, Miss Bellerose.” This was in fact Cecelia’s first meeting with her old friend Genevieve since her return to England. She’d meant to thank the woman for all the letters she’d sent to her in Japan over the course of her study abroad and to apologise for making her worry by failing to stay in touch with her since its conclusion, but…

“But Cece, you can’t go on living like this,” Shiryen butted in. “Look around you.”

Her so-called ‘sitting room’ was barren, at best, much like the rest of her suite. Her kitchen cupboards were nearly bare, save for some stale bread and a small collection of more or less empty jam jars. She hadn’t been to the market in days. Genevieve had brought the tea over herself, having asked permission by telegram for her to drop in for a long overdue visit along with Cecelia’s fellow former exchange student. She hadn’t had a clue how nor when her two friends had come to know one and other, but she had given her consent, despite not having much to offer so as to make them feel welcome.

Shiryen reached out her hand, resting it atop Cecelia’s. “I know you, nē-san.”

“We both know you.”

“Exactly. We know that you need to be outside, smelling the flowers and getting your hands dirty. This,” she gestured to all sides of the barely furnished, cobweb-covered room, “is no good for you. Surely you realise that.”

A depressive silence moved in, somehow turning the place even drearier than it already was.

“Here’s an idea.” Miss Bellerose rose to her feet. “What say the three of us take next Saturday to attend the Great Exhibition together?”

At this proposal, Shiryen straightened up in her seat and clasped her hands together, giving Cecelia a hopeful glance.

“I know none of us would much care to call ourselves ‘inventors,’” continued the chemistry specialist among them, “but there are supposed to be loads of other exciting things to see and do.”

“Oh! Maybe we could all go for a ride on one of those…” Shiryen stopped short, her zealous look going sour. “Oh, what do they call those blasted things? The big, tall, spinning structures with little carriages hanging off the rims…”

“Ferris wheels?” offered Genevieve.

“Yes!”

Her warm eyes brightened. “I think that’s a splendid idea. Ooh, I’d also love to try flying in a hot air balloon, given that we can secure a decent spot in line for a ride.”

“Yes, yes!” Shiryen’s eyes now glinted behind her too large spectacles. “I’m certain we could. We just need to get there before anyone else does.”

Both heads turned in the direction of their hostess as Genevieve kindly asked, “What do you think, Miss Cecelia?”

For the week leading up to it, having the day at the Great Exhibition to look forward to had been a much needed source of motivation to get her up and performing the necessary tasks for one’s survival as a human being residing in an attic in the middle of one of London’s bustling shopping districts. It was the bare minimum, but an improvement nonetheless. Her cupboards were stocked and her linens were washed. Of course, she couldn’t have managed much of this without the vehement support of her friends Shiryen and Genevieve.

The agreed-upon Saturday was no different. It was at the arse crack of dawn—barely past six o’clock—when there came a thunk from her bedroom window. After another thunk or two just like it, she awoke and pried the window open, poking her head out to see none other than the two of them down below. Shiryen was hopping in place on one foot and struggling to get her shoe back on while Genevieve called up to her, telling her there wasn’t a moment to waste.

So Cecelia hurriedly dusted off the best day dress and hat she could find amongst the crates and piles of her belongings (most of which were still packed from when she’d moved in), then with bleary eyes clumped her way down the stairs to street level before being whisked away to catch the next omnibus to Hyde Park.

“Please don’t misunderstand when I say this, Ms. Bellerose; I’m ever so grateful for the tickets and for everything you’ve done for me,” mumbled Cecelia, having arrived at their destination roughly an hour later.

“It’s my pleasure, petal,” she interrupted, paying the balloon proprietor for the three of them. “What was it you were going to say?”

“Oh, it’s—it’s nothing.” Genevieve cocked her head at her as Shiryen boarded the fire-powered flying contraption. Cecelia floundered. “Well…wasn’t getting here before the park even opened a bit, erh…overboard?”

“Oh, shut up.” Shiryen was already leaning over the edge of the basket, anxiously waiting for takeoff.

“Whilst I can’t say I approve of that tone,” gently admonished Genevieve as she herself came aboard, “I can’t say she’s entirely wrong, either. This experience will be well worth it, I’m sure.”

“I heard someone behind us saying there was something like a three-hour queue for this yesterday,” Shiryen added, still faced away from the other two, but now with hints of a smile set into the corners of her lips, “which means it must be worth the wait.”

“Exactly! So cheer up, won’t you?” Genevieve held her right hand out to her while steadying herself on one of the four hefty cords attaching the big rubber dome to the basket with her left. “Today is your day, after all.”

Cecelia took her hand, helpless to resist her friend’s infectious smile. “Okay.”

But as she boarded, the basket tilted to the side the two of them were now standing on.

She cried out and wobbled to the opposite corner as fast as she could, covering her eyes. “Gracious, are you alright?” asked Genevieve, placing the hand she’d helped her on board with on her shoulder as Shiryen turned her head.

Cecelia evicted the thought of how strikingly similar this felt to sailing in the middle of a storm surge from her mind. “I will be… Just need a moment.”

Her stomach did a flip when the proprietor announced the start of their skyward climb. But once both she and the carriage had found their bearings, she opened her eyes and was met with the magnificent Crystal Tower in front of them, the reflections in the glass migrating across every facet as the balloon rose up, up, up. The higher they went, the brighter the view became all around. The next thing she knew, they were soaring high above the entire Great Exhibition, including the very top of the Tower. A flock of pigeons flew by down below, and Shiryen snapped a rather precarious shot of them with Genevieve’s camera.

Turning her gaze to the east, Cecelia’s eyes were overwhelmed by the sight of the rising sun as it burned through the overcast and painted the horizon with brilliant red and yellow hues. The scene filled her up to the brim with an incredible feeling of longing for some unknown and unattainable thing, and yet, even when the dry air and blinding light combined continued to bring forth steady streams of tears from her eyes, she couldn’t find it within herself to look away.

But alas, this bittersweet moment could not last forever, lest she be doomed to a fate similar to that of the great Galileo. Sooner than expected, they’d begun their descent back to solid ground, where a sprawling line of people had quickly accumulated.

From then on, she did her absolute best to enjoy the rest of her day at the Exhibition. The first hour or so was a bit rocky as she was having some trouble adjusting to the throngs after being shut up in the attic for the past three odd months. Everywhere she looked, she kept seeing his face and hearing his voice, no thanks to the cruel jokes her own mind seemed to be playing on her. Once the three of them had stopped for some good old-fashioned fried street food, though, things were much better.

“That ‘rollercoaster’ was quite something, wasn’t it?” chirped Genevieve.

“Oh, I loved it!” Cecelia said. “I really think we should go for another ride before we leave.”

Just then, a figure in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her heart clenched. Their whole body concealed by a dark cloak, the stranger didn’t even resemble him in the slightest, save for maybe in height. And posture. She shook it off, but kept them in her line of sight.

“Me too. For a minute there, I felt like I was going to lose my chips,” joked Shiryen, “but it turned out to be loads of fun.” The other two laughed and bobbed their heads in agreement. “What’s next on our list, Gen?”

Said gentlewoman referred to her notes on the available attractions. “Well, we could try having a peep at an exhibit or two.”

“We could,” nodded Shiryen while the cloaked figure slowly passed them by, barely even visible through the crowd.

“Or, we could carry on this way and see what they have out at that souvenir stand,” said Genevieve. “We should do that sooner rather than later if it’s something we’re all interested in.”

“Souvenirs, yes! Having something to remind us of today is an absolute must, don’t you think, Cece?”

“I—”

A cluster of blue and white petals gleamed at her through the bodies with the reflection of the sun, derailing the rest of her sentence.

It really was him. It couldn’t be, and yet, it had to.

When the familiar hilt disappeared a second later, a single word materialised in her mind like a flash of lightning. Its force cracked her voice.

“Anata…!”

He halted, thrown into turmoil like nothing he’d ever experienced the instant he heard her call. The surrounding crowd seemed to vanish within the blink of an eye, if but for a fraction of a second. When he turned, she was there, standing before him and struggling to catch her breath, not more than an arm’s length away. She hardly looked any different from when he’d last seen her, but she was too vivid for just another illusion. He wanted to reach out and touch her to make certain she was real, but what if she wasn’t? Or worse, she was? Then he would surely never want to let go. She wasn’t safe here. Not with him. Not like this. Not while he was armed, for God’s sake. He kept trying to settle on one emotion, but the shrieking continued. It destroyed him, his every train of thought being violently torn from the rails. “She’s here to sabotage your mission, you cretin!” It made his ears ring and his head throb with pain. “What are you waiting for? Leave her, now!”

The voice of the nobleman looming behind him cut through the deafening silence like a blade through canvas. “Apprentice,” he calmly addressed, “are you and this gentlewoman acquainted?”

Some of the tension in the masked man’s frown let up, only to then shift into his jaw. After a long moment’s pause, he answered the question with a wordless shake of his lowered head.

“But, it’s me, Cecelia! Don’t you remember?” The two men turned and vanished without a single word to her between the two of them. “Wait, don’t leave! Please!” She tried to pursue them, but the crowd was impenetrable. “Come back…!” she cried. “Please…”

“Barok! Wait!” Her two friends caught up to her moments later with Genevieve in the lead. She and Shiryen barely caught a glimpse of the stranger’s pale face covering before he turned, but it was no use.

“He’s gone,” said Cecelia, frozen where she stood. “Again.”

She fought the urge to crumble to her knees right then and there, but couldn’t contain the tears once Shiryen had wrapped her arms around her from behind. She caved, turning about and weeping openly into her ‘imōto’s shoulder. “There, there,” she soothed, using the same tone of voice her ‘nē-san’ would have used with her on homesick nights during their shared time abroad.

She directed a look at Genevieve—an unspoken request—which she returned, saying to their dear friend, “You’ll see him again soon, sunflower,” and placing her own arms around her wilting form from behind. “I promise you.”

[acircusfullofdemons]

Tamagotchi AU (specifically False Moon being placed in Wonderland/taking on the roles of the book characters):

Emory is the Cheshire Cat. I mean, duh. Talking cat with the ability to vanish/teleport as he pleases? They're basically the same lol.

Calypso is the Hatter. Feel like I don't need to explain this one.

Now here's where it gets Tricky. Because originally, Rowan was gonna be the March Hare (for obvious reasons) but. Imagine. Him as Alice & Kelly/Blair as the White Rabbit.

Alice was chasing the rabbit, trying to catch up to him. Rowan is chasing after his memories of Kelly & Blair, holding onto his guilt & trauma. He wants them to live. He wants them there with him. But they can't, it's simply not possible. They're dead. He'll always be "chasing" after them unless he lets go and accepts he can never "catch" them (aka accept that they're dead & gone).

"not everything is about Rowan's trauma" EXCEPT WHEN IT OBVIOUSLY IS LMAO

.........im gonna be nice & list off who everyone else is under the cut lol

Rowan as the March Hare. Despite my little rant/debate above to do like thinking about him being happy, believe it or not.

Blair and/or Elliott as Alice. Blair bc she's a little girl & Elliott bc of her dimension hopping abilities. Honestly both could be Alice at the same time, with Elliott trying to get Blair out of Wonderland.

Toby as the White Rabbit. Uh, time, obviously.

Kelly as the White Queen. She's (WQ) often depicted as peaceful and kind, much like how Kelly usually is (tho a 12yo queen probably isn't...the best idea, I can't say that Book!Alice being queen made any more sense).

Macbeth is the King of Hearts, making Glitch the Queen of Hearts. Again, this makes perfect sense in my mind and goes without explanation.

Jane is the White Knight. She is an actual knight. Moving on.

And as a bonus: Malware as the Caterpillar. Solely bc Mal does drugs lol.

[magicallymalted]

Masterlist

Jayne // She/her // US // ISFJ // Ravenclaw // Wizarding World Career Coach 

Hi there! Welcome to my blog. To start I suppose, I’m still getting into the swing of RPing on Tumblr. I’ve been RPing in general on various platforms for about 6+ years now, starting off on the grapevine through minor RP sites, dipping my toe into InsaneJournal and Discord, and also just enjoying writing between friends! 

Feel free to send me a note for anything in particular. I'm always open to getting my OC’s interacting in any form that I can, as well as helping OC’s find their perfect career path! My asks/dms are always open to anyone who wishes to send, well, anything really!

MISC OC THINGS 

Birthday Masterlist

 OC’s 

❧ Roderick McKenzie | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Astraea McKenzie | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Sabine Bellerose | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Noelle Brenton | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ John, Castor, and Lewis Faden | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Deaglán Herrity | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag ⤷ Lineage Challenge

❧ Nancy Maxwell | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Joel Mayfair | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Lyubomir Vulchanov | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Janet Spindle | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Lyse Spindle | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Avalon Cole | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Roger Jr. Weasley | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

❧ Gwendolyn Montague | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag  ⤷ MA Girl Gang

❧ Han Family | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag ⤷ Marco | Gemma | Extended Masterlist

❧ Jaouen Medlocke | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

Minor OC’s 

❧ (HPMA) Devil’s Snare: Vanille Sparks, Circe Brattleby, Ethan Warshaw, Genevieve Cadfellow, Locan Vance | Pinterest | Spotify

❧ (FBAWTFT) May Lécuyer | Pinterest | Spotify | Tag

[niapravilna]

https://bellerosebordeaux.tumblr.com/

NyoFrance! Meet Genevieve Bellerose!

[semperinfernales]

bellerosebordeaux replied to your post “[tap tap tap] Greed? Gluttony? Someone, anyone, I'm looking for a Mr....”

Oh I see. I was honestly just trying to meet the guy, he's dating my little girl, and I wanted to see exactly who held my daughters affections. I'm Genevieve Bellerose, you must be a sin? I've only really met Greed and Gluttony, lovely ladies~

That doesn’t tell me how you got here, but that’s okay, I guess. Not like I really care. [she hums] I’m Sloth. I’m assuming the fact you just want to talk to Lucifer means you don’t have any Hell-related concerns, which means I don’t have to send you to Wrath. 

[angeaxil]

Genevieve : Perhaps I should keep this in my cupboards? [holds a hand-made lip gloss container and hands it to him] it’s what I was gonna wear this evening.

Barok: [examining the cosmetic product] I’m assuming this is a container for lip.... gloss.... [realizes what she means and is flushed red]

Genevieve : [smirks] Suffer.

[angeaxil]

Love the new icon ^^

THANK YOU 🥺💕✨ it was part of an old commission for my TGAA OC Genevieve that was done by an artist called Bunny on Twitter and it turned out beautifully, so I figured I should put it to use and slapped it for the new tumblr icon KA-BAM!!

[angeaxil]

a colored wip of my dgs/TGAA OC Genevieve Bellerose!

[angeaxil]

Art commission by: @/octorofii (Instagram)

[angeaxil]

I was in the mood to draw again and so I did begin to doodle some OC’s that I absolutely adore with my whole entire being along with my own! ✨🌸 Uplifitng my mood for a bit before my finals arrive, and that’s it!

DGS OC Alice van Zieks belongs to their rightful owner @eldritchlittleblackdragon

DGS OC Roshni Agarwal belongs to their rightful owner @scarlettjskipper

My DGS OC Genevieve Bellerose belongs to me!

(Note: I don’t own any of the canon DGS characters at all! They belong to their rightful author.)

[angeaxil]

Not an artwork this time but a scenario I thought off for sometime. But first, I want to thank @van-zieksy for taking their time and liberty to write the most fascinating of headcanons and imaginative scenarios regarding how Klint van Zieks carried himself around as a prosecutor, which you would find it here!

________________________________________

“You disappoint me, Counsel. And here I was willing to lend ears to your fascinating fantasy that you’ll weave for us. As far as I can tell, my learned friend is big on words but small on actual proof to substantiate their claim. What do you have to say to this, Strawberry Stone?” — A smug Klint van Zieks

“Grrrr .... (Keep your silly remarks for your little droopy ant’s antennaes!)”— Genevieve Bellerose, disguised as Galliard Clifford.

Context: A one of a rare chance that our female protagonist under the disguise of a sophisticated lawyer practitioner is facing of against a tough opponent— the renowned paragon of Justice in the British Judiciary, Prosecutor Klint van Zieks. And it’s seems that his antics in toying with the defense counsel— consisting of outright direct insults, showing off his signature smirk and calling his opposition by the nickname of “Strawberry Stone” attributing to her hair, struck a nerve into the gentlewoman, and thus was her angry response in quite.

Bonus: Klint caught her red-handed by the very end of the trial and discovered who she was, but decided not to report her to acknowledge her hard work she put up on the trial against him and her integrity as a lawyer.

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Brief Biological info:

Name: Genevieve Bellerose

Age: 19 (Professor Killings era), 29 (canon events)

Gender: Female

Occupation: Cosmetic chemist

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“A cosmetic chemist that works to bring about a new era of healthy, better-quality Beauty products directed towards the ladies of all social classes starting from London and to include Great Britain. Resolves to become the voice of empowerment for Victorian women who want to embrace their femininity and enhance their own beauty through her vision. She hopes to a inspire a future in which make-up is no longer frowned upon through the magic of her home-made ingredients!

“A refined typical victorian lady who possesses the most gentle and mature yet also firm and strong aura, like a flower that can please you with its appearance and smell but also cause harm to you if you touch its spikes ….This is how Genevieve Bellerose is described. Her life takes a big turn when Lady Baskerville and other important characters enter her life.”

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Trivia:

— Partially inspired by the Sherlock Holmes adventures: The Hound of the Baskervilles, and to give Shu Takumi’s Lady Baskerville a direct family relative (aside from Iris) , Genevieve was born! :D

— Baskerville is Genevieve’s true surname, but was later changed to cover up her illegitimate birth as that would’ve cause a great scandal.

— Given that the original author Shu Takumi did not provide a name for Lady Baskerville, I decided to give her a fanon name: Charlotte Rose Baskerville.

— Charlotte Baskerville, to the utter dismay of her father who didn’t want to have anything to do with Genevieve, made sure to regularly send telegrams and gifts to her (consisted of accessories, fancy dresses, cosmetics...), often inviting her to the Baskerville family mansion, and even encouraged her to follow what she wishes for, ultimately inspiring the latter to create cosmetics for the women. (Lady Baskerville as a good older sister figure being a direct parallel to Klint van Zieks lets gooo!)

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Genevieve’s abilities (part 1):

in Combat

• Genevieve Bellerose has a remarkable amount of knowledge in weapons (Daggers, Swords, Revolver guns, etc.) as she is more efficient in combat where she has the advantage of using a tool to defend herself. After much deliberation, she decided that the dagger will be her signature weapon as it is easier to carry, conceal and handle.

•Despite being a more efficient opponent if armed with a dagger, Genevieve has experience in hand-to-hand combat as an option in case said weapon is not in her possession.

•As of present, and despite the want to utilize/ demonstrate the Van Zieks’ leg stretch tradition as they seem advantageous in performing high kicks, she was not able to fully master it. However, she did adopt a skill derived from said technique: the low leg sweep; a move that primarily uses legs to take down the opponent.

•To avoid pulling her into the danger and mess of being associated with “The Reaper of the Old Bailey” as much as possible, Barok van Zieks personally supervised her combat training, teaching her how to handle weapons and practice sparring for the sake of her safety.

• She took his advice into consideration in regards to protecting herself that included limiting her contact with him for the time being to avoid placing her life in danger and being used as a valuable bargaining chip to his enemies.

*Strength(s):

- Quick and fast reflexes.

- Notable stamina

-Agile movements.

-Precise strikes.

*Neutral(s):

- High tolerance to pain. (Could go both ways: positive as to the fact that she isn’t easily bent in the perspective of her opponents when struck, but also negative as to dismiss serious wounds at times.)

*Weakness(es):

- Disadvantageous against multiple opponents/enemies.

- Often unaware of her surroundings during battle, and could therefore lead to her taking risks placing herself at jeopardy even when she was asked not to.

-In need to improve the strength in her leg muscles when it comes to kicks if she wants to perform the van Zieks’ high kick.

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Based on the request here!

Also have the van Zieks siblings underneath because why not + they are cutie silly goofs here <3

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Do you have any plans to share more about Genevieve's journey in the future? She's so endearing. I like the way you portray her + her design is so pretty.

I am wishing you all the best with your exams! 💖

Hello Zieksy! ✨💕 Thank you for taking the time to send an ask here!

To answer the question: Yes, I INDEED do have plans to portray and share more about Genevieve’s journey in the near future! I did prepare several sketchs, ideas and even AUs that I would love to share with my mutuals more than anything, and I hope I get the time to do that after my final exams!

Once again, I thank you and all the other beloved mutuals who wished me luck! ✨🌸 I’m lucky to have you all!