#that they have down thing like drunkenly blown up mountains for fun

[curmoritor]

@tenkoseiensei asked: ' i don't know anything about magic, ' he begins, ' but i'm sure i could take at least a dozen wizards in a fight. ' nerds versus jocks! or something like that, right? no, seriously! ' with people like me, havin' a good teacher's just about as amazing as bein' good at somethin' yourself. so how the hell does it work for you guys? is it innate? some kinda power drawn from the heart bullshit? ' it'd be pretty embarrassing to hear that spell slinging was welled up deep within everyone, but even then, yan qing was sure he didn't need it. being dead and incomprehensible was enough. ' seems like y'could make just about anything happen. power struggles must get big, sometimes. '

❛ You are born with it. ❜ So, you suppose "innate" is correct in a way... but saying "you are born with it" feels wrong as well. Yet, you can't help but laugh at his question. Ahh... yes... magic is drawn from the heart, isn't it? Or rather... it's drawn from positive emotions for all others. Things like love or happiness are the strongest emotions to create magic, yet curiosity, excitement, wonder. Things like that work as well. It's a learning process, yet you are inherently broken. ❛ If you are not born a mage, you can never learn magic~ Humans have tried in every possible way. Swallowing mana stones, many magical weapons that run off of mana stones, or even praying to gods and pretending that gives them divine powers... ❜

Though, all of those times that someone claimed godly powers were false. They simply had a item that was enchanted by a mage of some sort. Perhaps it was cursed, perhaps it was blessed. You don't make it your business because it's boring. Humans are dreadfully boring unless you are tormenting them. They are weak, like wooden puppets that barely are hanging onto their pathetic strings. Still, you weren't expecting him to ask such a question and it lets you finally have a smile stretch across your face as you consider how to answer more and more.

❛ You make it sound as if it's something you despise. Is the heart hard for you to understand? ❜ Well, you aren't much different. ❛ A typical witch or wizard would use their heart to cast magic. Though, it's because emotions are the strongest medium you can have to have magic flow out of. That is why we love festivals, we love to sing, dance, and make merry... it makes our magic stronger when we are happy. ❜

You aren't very good at explaining this, Especially since this isn't even how your magic works. You aren't sure why it got all twisted and wrong for you, but everything is wrong with you. You are backwards, broken, wrong, worthless. You shouldn't even exist, you shouldn't be alive. Yet, at some point you weren't to live so badly that now you can't die.

❛ Though, That's just how normal wizards cast magic~ For some reason, I don't. I have to feed off of terror, fear, chaos~ That's how I gain my power. ❜ and you have done everything you can do to be strong and to be a factor in the power struggles that do exist.

❛ Power struggles... They are frequent- Rather, they are constant. Even know, I'm sure that idiot Mithra is trying to plan how to kill Oz again. ❜ You sigh. You know that he has no clue who either of them are, but he is asking so you are going to talk! ❛ Oz is the strongest Wizard alive~ And he does nothing with that power. All he does is brood away in solitude all day long. He's gloomy, creepy, and annoying. I hate him, but Mithra isn't much better. He's aggressive, violent and unpredictable. All he does is kill me because he knows I won't die. ❜ Even if you do exactly what he tells you to, he'll still kill you sometimes anyways because he's just in a bad mood! Or if he asks you for help he still attacks you sometimes because he reflexively gets defensive. You seriously can't stand him. Oz is hardly better though, because you can't die he'll torture you.

Ahhh, this is annoying you now.

❛ Northern wizards like myself are the strongest there are~ Raw power is all we need. Oz could split the whole world in two if he so felt like it, so I suppose some would thank him for being so passive. Even for someone 1000 years younger then I, if they were trained properly then they could easily wipe out a large city with ease. Wizards die all the time in the north~ It's a constant struggle simply to survive... You either submit to the most powerful, or hope you are crafty enough to survive and become powerful. ❜

[dear-yandere]

& just drown with me.

yandere! beidou x reader. general headcanons. tw: kidnapping, implied dubcon. disclaimer: this is not a healthy relationship.

art belongs to jay ash (pixiv).

“come out, come out to the sea, my love and just drown with me...”

beidou is...

reverent, delusional, honest, lenient (RDHL) + doting, protective, clingy

— reverent is she the moment she sets eyes on you, her heart skips a beat. she doesn’t mince words or skirt along bushes; she’s enamored the moment she sees you, and she ensures that you’re well aware of her attraction. you’re quick to pick up that she is terribly handsy—and perhaps a little touch-starved—especially when it comes to you. her hands are on you at all times, sometimes friendly, sometimes on the cusp of something more.

she wants to hold you close and never let go, she knows that much. you’re just so frail, so easy to break if the slightest wind were to brush your sides a little too harshly. in contrast, she’s strong beyond compare, able to best sea beasts and part mountains with only her sword; and yet, gentleness is not lost on her. she takes extra care in handling you, beyond scared that you’ll break apart between her fingers if she’s the slightest bit too rough.

and letting go quickly becomes difficult.

she likes feeling your skin against hers. your hand entangled with hers, your fingers delicate and unused to combat; she is forever fascinated by the soft swell of your palm, the way your hand looks as if it can hardly hold itself against the world. your skin is devoid of callouses and tears unlike her own which carries the sword as big as her stature. your hair’s disheveled and knotty, and your clothes carelessly strewn across the floor. she likes you best this way; completely without covers, so that she may take you in to your fullest, so that she may hold all of you within her grasp and never let go. her fingers are always wrapped around your waist, lips pressing kisses onto your head.

you are a treasure beyond compare. 

— her thinking, you soon come to learn, lies upon the border of delusion, and yet her eyes hold an assurity when they look at you. you’re never allowed off her ship unsupervised. the decision was quick and painless, her voice doubtless and her intentions clear as the sea. she wants to flaunt you by her side, as she enjoys the way your body will grow warm with embarrassment when she walks into town with a pretty little thing by her side. pirates are known for their nonchalant approach to life, so for the great captain of the crux to show up in public with anything—or anyone—by her side apart from her trusty claymore is a curious sight. captain beidou isn’t known for her ability to settle in one place or with one person; the sea’s always been her true calling, after all. but to see her fingers gently settle on your shoulder as she pulls you close, the smirk on her reddened lips will quickly twist into a full-blown grin as the crowd she’s drawn erupts into cheers.

you know better than to make a scene in front of these people—people who look up to captain beidou, people who wouldn’t take you seriously if you explained the way she keeps you captive on her ship. you’re nothing more than a victim, you’ll say to them, and they’ll only laugh you off with a wave of their hand, certain this whole charade is some roundabout way for beidou to entertain herself. the sea must drive a man delirious, after all. no one can fault her.

and for that reason, no one can believe your pleads.

beidou is a free spirit enamored by the call of adventure, and yet her actions are anything but.

— dishonesty is something beidou hasn’t the time nor patience for. her words hold no lie when directed at anyone, but especially when directed at you. she couldn’t dream of lying to you—and she has, unfortunately. the moment she woke up from that terrible dream was the moment she shook you awake to apologize profusely, even if the language was colored with her own vulgar vernacular. yes... she apologized for a futile little lie she told in a dream.

dishonesty simply isn’t on the table.

she goes to great lengths to explain her day to you, taking the utmost care to not leave the slightest detail out. the main reason being her guilty conscience, really. there’s not much to do cooped up on a musty ship cabin—even if her quarters are decked out to the nines just for your liking. you weren’t keen on the idea at first, feeling more like a child being told stories before bedtime, rather than a fellow sailor and her beloved first mate. but her eyes will light up all the same, and she’ll tell you of her day and the new things she’s seen as if you were right there with her. you quickly learn to nod along and acknowledge her every so often, as the only alternative is to mope around in her cabin or on the deck—the few times she’ll let you accompany her out there. there’s only so many thoughts to think by yourself, and at some point, you grow to look forward to these fantastical stories every night.

— she doesn’t know fear—freedoms are yours for the choosing if you’re brave enough to set your sights on them. lenient and all too unfussed by the chance you’ll make it any further than the twenty feet from her person at all times, she’s well aware you won’t make it rather far. you wouldn’t call it much in the way of “freedom” really—and you start to envy the citizens of the ever-free mondstadt a few regions over. all freedoms are your for the taking; that is, all freedoms except a dismissal from her side. it’s where any good luck charm belongs, she’ll laugh and plant a wet kiss atop your lips. her good luck charm... she doesn’t need luck—not with strength rivaling a god’s—and yet she refuses to go anywhere without you close behind. 

it’s no surprise that her crew had once joked that you follow her around like a lost seadog—unaware that you do so per her directions—only for the poor lads to regret ever having said anything. their captain’s eyes are dark when she pipes up behind them.

“haven’t you got better jobs to do than mess with my lass?” she jeers, that usual smirk not quite reaching her eyes. from your position behind the crew—the men now all lined up in terror before the captain of the crux—even you start to break into sweat. it’s clear from her tone that she’s irritated, and the fact she’s clutching onto her claymore as if its the anchor on her anger scares even you. 

they were poking fun at you only moments ago, and now you can’t help but feel sorry for them.

“i’ll let you off the hook ‘cause you’re my dear brothers.“ despite her clemency, her expression tightens and not one man dares to let his tense muscles relax. “but i’ll only say this once, lads.” she explains, stepping down from the raised deck to saunter over to your side. all eyes turn to you two, a pair they’ve grown used to seeing day in and day out. beidou slings her arm around your shoulders, the curves of her body pressing into yours perfectly. “this here is my first mate; a jab at them is no better than a jab at me. the next time i hear a jab at them, i’ll do far worse than have you swimming with the fishes.”

— she loves drinking with you by her side, even if you can’t hold liquor down to save your life. her cheeks are quick to flush shades of pinks and reds, and you can never stop yourself from staring in awe, even when she slings an arm around your waist and pulls you close. her lips catch yours as if they belong there, a puzzle piece filled by its other half. her kisses are a hazy fire, fiercely warm and dangerously untamed; they always taste like strong beer, the beverage steeped in various spices that sit nicely on her lips.

you only wish she wouldn’t do so in public. her boisterous laughter and charisma draws the attention of the tavern-goers, most of whom know better than to interrupt beidou when she’s chugging down jugs of alcohol. her crew doesn’t mind the sight, nor do they mind your presence at the table—though, it’s not like they have much of a choice in protesting; although they don’t fully recognize you as a bonafide crew member of the alcor, it’s clear that captain beidou has something of a sweet spot for you.

still, they feel like they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t when she captures your lips with hers, her fingers drunkenly playing with the thin strap keeping your outfit intact. 

— captain beidou carries her heart on her sleeves and her riches in each hand. riches and spoils are fully within your grasp at all times, sometimes to the point of annoyance when she insists on adorning you with a piece of jewelry she picked up at port. ‘it reminded me of you, s’all,’ she’ll laugh sheepishly, already unclasping the necklace to set it around your neck. ‘wear it and think of me, yea?’

it’s an order more than a romantic sentiment; you have no choice but to think of her at all times.

it’s only when you learn of her past that you come to understand her near-obsession with providing you with the best of the best. from the moment she opened her eyes as a newborn, her life had been mired by misfortune, as if the gods themselves were curious how long she’d survive a life of ordeals. as confident as she is now, you would’ve never guess that beneath the surface, she is forever humbled by her past. having grown up in a family with little money and even less to eat, she was to pick up on the way of thieves, learning the schedules and habits of merchants at the local market so that she could swoop in to steal fruits and veggies from their unattended stands.

“don’t worry about it too much, lass; me telling you such stories is merely for your amusement,” she’ll laugh as she explains this to you, sparing you the grisly details of starvation and malaise. she doesn’t tell you how her skin would cling to her ribs for years on end, hanging from her skeleton as if life had given up on it. she’s been on hard times for most of her life, and yet the only side you ever see is the one blessed by fortune and power.

“life and i have never gotten along, so i had to climb my way up in this world.” her tone is cheerful; you see right through it. “my life’s been tough, i’ll admit that much, but i have no intention of making you live through that too.” 

— as much as she tries to run from it, she cannot outsail truth. as much as she’d prefer to keep you on her ship—where she can keep an eye on you, where you’re always free to join her in her quest for adventure and thrill—she’s aware that all things must come to an end; even the sea has an edge and an end.

this is just one of them.

 “hey... if you really don’t want to be here, i won’t stop you. it’s your choice, and whatever you decide is set in stone. i can’t change that no matter how hard i try, but... could you do me a favor?... just, could you at least give me a chance? 

i don’t like overstepping my boundaries where i’m not needed, but this is all i’ll ask of you. think long and hard about your decision. what you decide is up to you—and if you’re set on the idea, i’ll let you leave, no repercussions. sound like a deal?”

bonus.

— she isn’t herself at night. gone is the boisterous laughter that could raise the hair on a man’s arms. gone is the domineering aura she carries like a shield, its front aimed at a world that tries to hold her down. she craves adventure, but the moment night falls and she pulls you into the cot with her, she’s out like a light. the only time you manage to catch yourself every day is when she’s by your side rather than the other way around, her person quiet and gently breathing the sea-stained air.

the ship creaks, and you can hear it clear as night now that the crew is snuggled into their cabins and warm cots, and now that their even-louder captain has fallen asleep. you can finally hear your own thoughts. you have much to think about, having been spirited away to “adventure” against your will... and yet you only think of her.

you turn on your side and settle your weary eyes on your lover. her features are no longer sharp, no longer laden with the responsibility of power and might. nestled between a lavish blanket and the warmth of your body, she is no longer a paragon of otherwordly strength; she’s just human. this is just another side of the captain, just another beidou intended only for your eyes.

and it’s in these quiet moments that you realize you’re in love.

dear-yandere, all rights reserved.

[theclassrp]

Thank you OSWIN for auditioning for our first alien OC EVIE SMITH, we love how in-depth and thorough you’ve made her and her daughter. We find the idea that she’s a Floraxian to be interesting and fun! We have decided to go with Elizabeth Henstridge and we are pleased to say that you have been accepted!

Please create and send in an account within 24 hours, thank you!

We will also have your character card updated shortly.

IN-CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character desired: Evie Smith, 32; daughter: Millie Smith, 11(i realise there are a lot of smiths, i just went generic because she’s an alien so it felt right, but i’m also cool with changing it!) Sexual and Romantic orientation: pansexual/romantic, but a bit too busy hiding/keeping her daughter safe for any of that sexual/romantic nonsense. Ships: evie/chemistry Anti-Ships: evie/forced, evie/no chem Character biography/history:

- though she tries very hard to keep under the radar and away from all things rift/alien related (she really just wants to give her daughter a chance at a life she can’t have), her daughter Millie actually just started this past september at coal hill academy – the home of the very rift the mother/daughter duo snuck through – thus putting her in a position where she (and her daughter) are forced to interact with people she thinks might be involved in all the alien business. she’d considered kicking up a fuss in order to get her daughter into another school district, but she didn’t want to draw any extra attention to them – rule # 1 of being an alien refugee? keep a low profile.

- picked her current alias by doing a quick google search and picking at random a first and last name from the list of top 100 most common names in the uk. the more generic the name the better, she figured. but she hadn’t exactly counted on being surrounded by quite so many smiths when she’d chosen it. better to be boring than tracked down by the blorgon mafia, yeah?

- she is of a humanoid alien race which has a mutation gene that allows them to take on the form of whatever sentient creature that makes contact with her bare skin. she can control this power, a little bit, by slowing down the process– but so long as there is contact she will take on the physical structure of the being (conversely once contact is broken she is able to return to her natural form), though she is able to hold this mutation as long as she likes it does come with a cost – she is able to see the future of whoever’s entity she wears, and that is very rarely a good thing.

Character traits: + caring, courageous, intelligent, enthusiastic. - cautious, guarded, know it all, perfectionist. Connections:

Rory Williams: Her favourite male nurse. Rory is kind, dedicated, brilliant with children, and doesn’t ask too many questions which are… actually exactly the traits Evie looks for in a friend these days. Someone, she can enjoy a laugh with, who has no interest in prying into her personal life. So they’ll sit together in the canteen if they happen to share a lunch break, or meet up for the occasional coffee – he’ll share stories about his very ginger wife, and she’ll share anecdotes about Millie and that’s good enough, isn’t it?

Martha Jones: Evie and Martha work together in the ER, and if she’s honest she sort of looks up to Martha… in a way. She thinks she’s a brilliant and capable physician, especially considering the obsolete tech the year 2016 provides. She thinks they could actually be pretty good friends – both kind, quietly, slightly nerdy individuals. It’s just… she gets the sense that Martha knows a bit more about the rift and the resulting alien activity than she lets on. And Evie can’t afford to risk being sent back through.

Ashildr/Me: Mayor Me. The first person who greeted her when she passed through the rift, and the one who helped her get acclimated to the area. When they first arrived, Mayor Me gave them shelter on Trap street. And when Evie insisted on building a life in London (being human passing, apart from the gloves they’re forced to wear has its perks!), Me helped her find a flat and set her up with a job. All she asks is that Evie be her eyes in the hospital, and report any new arrivals to her so that she can over them the same protection Evie was given.

ORIGINAL CHARACTER INFORMATION

Face claim: 1st choice Elizabeth Henstridge, 2nd choice Chloe Bennet maybe? Pronouns and Gender: female, she/her, mutant humanoid from the future. Additional biography: - she comes from a planet that is unpronounceable by most humans, in a future most of earth’s population hasn’t even considered. a planet with no sun (it’s basically always day and everything appears to be the colour blue, this tooks some getting used to when she was first on earth), that has the most beautiful mountain range in the galaxy, and one that has been in a civil war for as long as history has been recorded by the people who live on it. two races – one with all the power and one existing only to serve, and then her kind. the mutants. half breeds. the lowest class citizens. and so naturally the leads of the rebellion.

- evie was born into a family whose outward appearance was floraxian – and so long as they always wore a pair of gloves, they were able to fit in and and reap the benefits all floraxian’s were awarded simply for being born. which was great, in theory, apart from living in fear of being caught. living as a floraxian meant more opportunities, better food, access to a better education (which is how evie was able to be trained as a physician… she’d be thankful later for such thorough training when she found herself working in a primitive earth hospital in the 21st century.)

- however evie never quite felt… right. it seemed wrong, din’t it? that she reap the rewards of a society that runs on the oppression of her own people. so in her 20′s she joined the rebellion, using her status as doctor to help. but her idealism perhaps made her a bit naive. and so she got caught in over her head – pregnant and in way too deep in the blorgon mafia. a fact that became particularly evident when her then boyfriend (and father of her child), a fellow mutant higher up in the rebellion one night drunkenly admitted that perhaps the intention of the group was not as noble as she once believed.

- with no way out, and a young child to protect she did what she had to do, and found a way out after a chance encounter with a time rift. she had no clue what would be on the side, but it seemed a brighter possibility than what the mess the were up against.

- earth provided a lot of challenges and even more new opportunities. like the opportunity to start over fresh – new identities and all. and so long as she always kept on a pair of gloves, her cover wouldn’t be blown. which was nice, wasn’t? safety at last. she does miss her family, but she knows they are safer without her around. and anyway, she’s got millie and that’s all the family she needs.

- though there is a part of her that worries her ex will find a way through the rift and come to take them back, she can’t bear the thought of it being closed permanently (monitored, certainly, but kept open). she knows she not the only being in the galaxy that’s ever needed a fresh start. and with mayor me and the trap street there’s no reason refugees from across the galaxy shouldn’t be able to find the same safe haven in london as she has. within reason, of course.

- all of that being said she does know how to protect herself. she may look very sweet and innocent on the outside (and she is both of those things, for the most part), but since coming to earth and escaping the rebellion/her ex she’s decided she never wants to feel helpless again, and so has taken some self defense classes and even knows how to carry a gun. (she does keep one in the flat in a lock box just to be safe, but it’s not loaded.)

- in her spare time she works on creating a gene suppressant. mainly for millie’s sake, something she can take (like a vitamin or a shot) to keep her powers under control and maybe offer her a real chance at a normal life. but so far she’s come up completely empty.

PARAGRAPH SAMPLE

She had a system. Finely honed over years of overachieving. She lined her open books across the table – by subject and in order of importance – she’d study one subject until she either got bored or distracted at which point she’d move on to the next. The genius part, of course, being that it prevented her from wasting time closing her books and finding her place in the new one. Efficiency is the key to good grades. As proven by her many years of excellence. Who said you couldn’t be brilliant and a Hufflepuff?

That is to say, she generally had an effective system. But that day something seemed to be going awry…

She’d just moved from Defense Against the Dark Arts and onto Potions when she realised it. Her pages were askew. She’d been meant to read Chapters four and five, but she was on seven.

“No,” Jemma asserted to herself, flipping anxiously through her very detailed planner, “No, that can’t be right I checked.” Triple checked in fact and yet….

Her eyes glanced from her to the Potions book again, now midway through the second chapter.

“Oh!” Jemma gasped in surprise, leaning forward to inspect her books. “Now that’s new. How you doing that then?” She whispered into the pages of her book, eyeing them curiously.

IN-CHARACTER QUESTIONS

1. What are your character’s last three texts sent? And to whom?

[ SMS MILLIE ] Late shift at the hospital. Dinner’s in the freezer. No chocolate until after you’ve finished your homework. [ SMS Millie ] I mean it! [ SMS Me ] There’s a situation at the hospital, I think you’d better come check it out.

What would be your character’s last three social media posts?

1. an instagram shot of an exhausted looking millie wearing a smile and scrubs. captioned: ‘Need tea in an IV bag STAT! #knackered’ 2. a new pinterest board filled with perfectly organized wardrobes (by colour, clothing articles, length etc) entitled ‘organisation goals’ 3. joined the facebook group working mums of hackney area.

What are the very first three things your character does when they get up in the morning?

she’s a very early riser. first she’ll pop on the treadmill for an early morning jaunt to get that adrenaline pumping. she’ll then set the kettle hop into the shower. she lets her tea brew whilst she dresses and sets about getting breakfast ready before waking up millie.