dorian ♕’s Comments (group member since Nov 28, 2020)

dorian ♕’s comments from the Grimoire’s Return. group.

*did tank tops exist back them for women?*

No

No

God 😍😍❤️🤭🤭🥰😘😘🥰

😪😌

“Well, witch, maybe we can be the death of one another.” He smiled to himself. In retrospect, that sounds cheesy as hell, but he loved it.

“I like you too, witch. Though I don’t know why.” He wonder absentmindedly if that meant something was wrong with him, that a Venandi would like a witch. Maybe he should ask Father Pere.

“I like kissing you too. Your nice to kiss.” She was. She was, and Marcus loved it so much, he felt like he was going bro explode.

“You might just be the death of me after all, witch.” He said, smiling at her.

Marcus blinked, taken aback. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Maybe, maybe we can take this slow. I don’t want to have sex with you with your witchy parents here. They might use their magic right now to amplify sound to hear what we’re talking about or whatever.” He chuckled, a deep, rough laugh.

“Just kissing? For now.”

Marcus’s head rocked back. “God, you girl.”

She— she bit him.

And he liked it.

He wondered if he should tell her, that he was a virgin. It would certainly make thing easier, but also possibly worse. He knew some people were into that *cough cough MY BOYFRIEND* but did that mean that his witch was into that?

“Witch.” He said, pushing up a bit. “I, I’m, have never done this.” He was turning red. And he knew it. Oh god he felt like he needed to leave, he messed everything up—

Marcus gasped at the sensation. He had only had one other girl get this far with him and that girl now…

He didn’t want to think about it.

He settled his hands on Ace’s hips, grinning up at her. The tattoo on his chest— a large white rose for his mother— glistened with a faint sheen of sweat, as he said, “Wow, so quick to get started and going, huh?”

He was just made this is infanticide

Why

Full Name - Tristan Aoife Róisín

Name Meanings - Tristan, meaning "sad" or "sorrowful" and Aoife meaning "beauty".

Nicknames - Tris

Number - 0512

Paranormal Ability - Vibration

Description - The user is able to generate vibrations that can travel through virtually any medium

Gender - Male

Pronouns - He/They

Sexuality - Bisexual

Crush - none (yet :)

Birth date - October 31

Age - 17 years old

Zodiac - Scorpio

Birthstone - Opal

Appearance -Golden brown skin, with dark shaggy hair, and light brown eyes. Has one dimple, and full lips, though short nails (from biting on them; a nervous habit). He a slitted eyebrow from being hit with a chair as a child (long story) and an occasional loud, high pitched giggle/ snort.

Photo - https://pin.it/632eHf1 , https://pin.it/3ks2Gbd

Hair -

Eyes - Light brown

Height - 6'1

Weight - 156 (most of it muscle)

Skin - Golden brown

Body Type- Meso-Ectomorph

Weaknesses - His abilities come with an aversion to fire and air. Tristan can, if wanted, move them, but has never learned how, thus meaning he stays as far away as he can from the two elements. Tristan also, while being able to handle himself in a fight, definitely would not be able to handle a fight involving weapons (unless powers count). Also, is curious. Like, extremely. He is so curious, he can be considered nosy. Also, has Pteromerhanophobia, aka the fear of flying.

Strengths - Was able to teach himself his abilities, before he got invited to the school. Can survive on his own for a while, though inevitably will get caught doing something, or will need help. Knows
how to fight, though not in terms of weaponry.

Skills (This being what other things are they good at, ex: soccer, tennis) - Good at writing, reading, and making friends. Can be a survivalist.

Father - Rowan Róisín (age 51; deceased)

Mother - Rosemary Róisín (age 39; deceased)

Brother(s) - None

Sister(s) - Izabella Róisín (age 5; was adopted by another family, as she doesn't have abilities)

Friends - TBD; though did have a best friend named Lou

Enemies - None

History - (view spoiler)[ Tristan was 8 when they first came for his father. His mother had told him of his father's abilities, had told Tristan to hide it so they wouldn't get hurt, wouldn't die, but nonetheless the men came. They took Tristan's father away, and he never saw his father again, believing his father to be dead. Tristan was 12 when they came for his mother. His mother never did anything wrong, never hurt a soul. She had hid him, before she went to o confront the men. The men had murdered his mother right in front of him, slitting her throat in a blink. Tristan had ran, taking his then 1 year old sister with him, before leaving her to their neighbors, people who had loved his sister like their own daughter. Tristan forced himself to learn how to survive at 12, became inept at his power because his father surely could not have taught him. He told himself how to make small tremors in the ground, to become powerful, so he wouldn't be hurt, or come after like his parents were. A year after that, the day before his birthday, a woman came to him. She told him of his power, of people that were like him. And after that day, Tristan's world had changed forever. (hide spoiler)]

Personality - Tristan is bubbly, though when reading a book is very quiet and normally snappish if interrupted. He likes to bite his nails if nervous, and can be quite immature. He is defensive of the people he cares about, and can be annoying.

Likes - Girls, boy, the smell of freshly baked pie, writing, ghost stories, and the exhilaration that comes when looking forward to something.

Dislikes - Flying, no matter what type, vehicles, loud noises (as in, trains, and such), and trees. Like, trees, man. They just stand there and do nothing.

Fears - Pteromerhanophobia, being alone, and death. Always afraid of death.



Hobbies - Likes to make fires (once almost committed arson inside of the school and got a month's detention for it, reading, writing, and being loud (which, obviously, makes him a hypocrite).

Health Conditions - None; though Tristan does occasionally get allergies.

Allergies - Pollen (TREES, MAN)

Habits - biting nails when nervous, talks a lot when anxious, fidgeting with a ring on his left index finger

Outfit - [

Marcus smiled. “You might as well take off my shirt at this point.” Then he smiled even wider as she raked a hand through his hair. “I hate your job too, witch.”

Then he reached up to kiss her again, cutting off any topics that could be brought up again. She was warm. She was so damn warm and god help him if he decides to take her right her and now, on this parents, whoever he damned.

Marcus tilted his head, trying badly not to look at the peek of a bra showing. “I think it was more ME trying to kill YOU, but I’ll let you have this one.”

He swallowed deeply, shoving aside his fears and insecurities and regrets as he said, “I think I like you. A lot. And I don’t mind it. I like it. A lot.” He lifted a calloused hand up, and tugged the rest of the buttons down off.

“A LOT.”

“You think I CAN?” Marcus sighed and threw his head against the bed. “You have no idea the things I want to do to you, witch. The things I’ve thought since the night at the Attolian.”

She looked so beautiful, above him, looking at him like he was the first person in her life to make her feel this way and he was going
To
Lose
It.

“And yes, your a mess. But not more than anyone. And your MY mess.” He paused. Was that too far? Did he ruin the moment?

He wasn’t thinking.

But he didn’t want to.

Marcus leaned back, Ace on top of him, as he fell onto the bed. He kissed her. He was kissing her. She tasted like peaches and brownies and everything good and everything bad with the world and he liked it.

He liked it a lot.

She was touching his chest, which meant she was touching his tattoo and he loved it GOD he loved it. He pulled from her and gasped, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Well, I personally think you made a very good first impression on me.” Marcus said. “You were stunning at that play. Even if you did walk out the explosion barely damaged, and didn’t even thank me for my protection.” He huffed, smiling at her.

She was gorgeous.

She was a witch.

Which meant she was bad.

But why, if it was so bad, did it feel so good?

Marcus stared at her, before smashing his lips against her once more.

Marcus sat beside her on her bed, which immediately sagged under his weight, making her slide into him. He smiled, and threw an arm against her. “A hug. Everyone needs one sometimes, and real now, you are desperately asking for one.”

He hugged her tight, squishing the rabbit between them.

Marcus opened the door and shut it after him, locking it. “I would ask you what’s wrong, but I think I know why. So instead I will ask: are you okay?”

He looked around the room. The walls were painted black, with swirls of gold, blue, and purple all around it. It almost created an illusion of the night sky. “Nice room.” Then he looked back at Ace and raised his brows. “I’m waiting.”