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blueparadis · 1 year

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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐃; 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐌𝐀

( 𝐜𝐰. )_ makima x demi-human!f!(dom)reader, supernatural au, slight canon typical elements, pov!shifts, pwp, 1night-stands, pinning, wlw, friends with benefits, ēxplicit sūmt, power dynamics, s/d dynamics, mention of succubus, undertones of violence and murder. 𝐰𝐜 :: 2k.

( 𝐬𝐲𝐧. )_ being an assassin in the world of devil hunters was not a walk in the park; until y/n was forced to make a deal with the demon.

( 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. )_ @6-022-10-23 OMG bunny finally it's here 😭 I'm so sorry that I made you wait for so long. I finished it earlier than expected... I tried my best to align with the ideas you gave me but can't promise much. Well, i hope you enjoy this. Ik i did >:)) | redirect to blog navigation.

Being born to a renowned family with a long chain of pure bloodlines, where the next generation is blessed with astounding abilities to surpass the previous heir, is not in everyone's stars. Those who have it, despise it and those who do not, they envy it. But neither was the case with y/n. She came from a family of trained guards. Her family was part of a small clan who were devoted to ‘leaders’. They have dedicated their life, body, and soul to their leaders and they must protect them at all costs. That is their fate. That is their purpose in life. That is why they are born.

Another lukewarm Friday night rolled in.. Y/n was humming to herself as she combed her hair. It has been ten years since her parents passed away. They were killed by a local mafia gang who claimed to be as their ‘money-lender’ and hence, y/n had to work for them to pay off the debt. But fate is such a fickle whore when it comes to enacting a perfect revenge. While the money-lender slept peacefully every night, y/n spent every night being wide awake drunk on revenge. On one such night she decided to visit the church, just to calm herself but instead came back with blood all over her tattered clothes and a demon residing inside her, a succubus. The demon insatiable with lust, and her mind hungry for vengeance. What could be more appropriate than to make a deal with a succubus to enact her perfect revenge? It was a Friday just like today when she killed all the made men of the local mafia gang along with the leader and received loads of cash from the government as a reward. Her parents must be proud of her.

“Lily, I can now braid my hair like my mother.” Y/n chimed looking at the mirror. She blinked twice and uttered, “Amen” The reflection in the mirror did not change except for her eye color. It turned red. Although there was no one in the room, she kept talking. “Well, I hate that I can't cut my hair now. It has become so long and sometimes it gets in the way.” She let her body fall on the soft mattress and exhaled deeply. “You know you cannot cut your hair.” a voice echoed in her room.

“Should we go to the parlor to color our hair?” she asked scrolling through her contact list. They were full of gang leaders from several parts of the town. “yeah. We can. I don't think it would affect our bond.” Hearing such a green signal made Y/n’s heart jump with joy. She laughed and mentioned that the first thing in the morning she would do is eat a burger from Mcdonald's and then go straight to the parlor.

Yes, being in contract with a demon came with more pros than cons or at least that is how y/n wished to see it. From the day she had a contract with the succubus, she was never alone. Lilith, in short, Lily, the succubus was always there to watch over her whether she liked it or not. Better to get along than to enrage a demon— that was the idea; she wished to follow it till the last breath of her life. And why should not she? She is now a government-aided bounty hunter who has a deal with a demon. What could possibly go wrong?

“Is this seat taken?” A woman with peach-colored hair, perfectly braided who wore a pair of formal trousers and a shirt enquired softly holding her food tray that contained a soft drink and a pack of french fries. Y/n scanned the cafeteria and found two men in black suits guarding the entrance and exit of the place. You moved to a side without responding hoping she would take the sit next to you but she did not. Instead, she sat in front of you.

“She looks tasty.” The food stuck in your throat, your cheeks warming instantly at the voice of Lily at the back of your mind. She has a habit of doing this, especially around men. Maybe y/n was too comfortable as a vessel for her. Chugging half of the water bottle you were about to ask her. . . but she shot her chance first. “You are,” She rested her chin on the back of her palms leaning over the table. “You are the one who killed a group of fifty men of a local gang a few years ago. Isn't that right?”

Bingo. Damn right. She came doing her research. Just like the people say, her presence alone is formidable. Wonder how much she knows about you? Is she aware of the fact that y/n knows the devil she is in contract with? Taking in a deep breath through your nose you tartly spoke, “And, you are the one who died quite a few times, Makima.” you took another bite from half of the burger. “quite fatal I presume yet here we are.” She cocked her head to a side, eyes almost ready to devour your presence, your soul, your spirit, and everything else around you. But you kept eating. Grabbing the napkin you left your seat exclaiming, “Yet here we are drinking, eating. chatting.” without maintaining eye contact. As you walked passed by her you heard a sharp intake of breath. Makima gasped as she felt your presence fade away. what on earth was that? it was as if two famishing comets crossing each other while destroying other celestial bodies.

That was the first time when y/n met Makima. Strange things started to occur after that, as in, you kept seeing her several times, crossing paths at local bars and restaurants. Must be work you thought and brushed it off. But one day you spotted her at a cozy bar that was adorned with neon lights in a quiet revealing dress — that is unlike her. “She’s alone.” Lilith’s voice echoed in your head.

“you think so?” you whispered lowly. “she is always with her guard dogs.”

“no, no. I meant she is lonely.” Sharing a look with Lily through the reflection of the wine glass you thought, ‘Really? How could you tell?’

“Y/n L/n we know our kind. no matter how much power we have, we are lonely. We can have anything using that power, so in the end, without it we're nothing.” You swirled your drink as she added. “she must be having one of those days.”

“Like we have periods?” you asked a little louder than usual, earning a look from the bartender. It is a good thing that you always keep the Bluetooth headphones plugged in, even if they are turned off. They saved you many times.

“Perhaps. But we sometimes get tired of it. Of our power.” what a cruel thing to say for a powerful being to a powerless creature. You gulped the rest of the drink, grabbed your purse, and left the place. You can not make the same mistake twice. You can not take another demon into your house.

A few weeks passed.

When the full moon was beaming at her brightest, the stars were celebrating her beauty, human life was being absorbed by you and Lilith was having her share of meal y/n crossed paths with Makima again. She was in her work attire. Both of you had blood splotches here and there. Without exchanging any set of words you offered her a cigarette. She took it. Puffing out a drag you blurted. “My house is nearby. I'll get you fresh set of clothes.”

“Is that so?” she asked lighting her cigarette. Part of you presumed she would be such a good girl unaware of how to light a cigarette to upload her reputation. “Fine by me.” It was a friendly walk under the full moon. She told him that she is grateful for this, might as well repay you if given a chance.

“It's fine. sooner or later I'll probably work under you. Better to appease you than to lock horns ” you said in a robotic manner like you were taught. But you did not expect Makima to laugh at this. “oh!she likes you.”

‘Lily not now. NOT. NOW.' you warned.

You showed her the bathroom and gave her a fresh set of clothes. Meanwhile, you got refreshed too. When you were out of the bathroom, in just a pair of spaghetti and shorts you noticed Makima was drying her hair with the towel. You smiled exchanging glances. You stood behind her to get a look in the mirror. Makima’s hands turned lithe, eyes focusing on your reflection as you closed the gap between her and yourself. You could feel her breath rising and falling faster than usual. All you did was stare at her a little longer and then Makima tore her eyes away. Before she could escape you clamped your palms against the edge of the dressing table. Her hands blocked her chest, in a manner of self-defense or being embarrassed. You leaned closer, closer than she expected, closer than you expected.

“you look very fresh.” leaning further to reach her petite shoulders, you whispered. “you are staying for tonight, right?”

’course she is. You felt her fingers on your boobs, lightly grazed and the next thing you knew was you had her pinned against the wall, her hands clasped above her head and another grip on yours holding her in place. Melodious moans filled the room, no resistance from her side. Warm - wet neck kisses, boobs being pressed to one another, rubbing against each other as both of you hungrily shared mind-numbing kisses.

She was trying to get rid of your hold from her wrists. At least she was trying to but it was not enough. Your lips peppering kisses on her chest overpowered her strength. Makima was in no state to use control. You broke the kiss standing inches apart from her, looking right into her galactic eyes — last chance before you devour her, a last chance to say no.

Makima was quick and straightforward. So, you expected her to be like that in bed too but she was not. All she does was work. She goes for a drink but that is not enough to blow off steam for the line of work she is in. Y/n had thought about this many times after spotting Makima in that bar. She looked every bit of you when you were human.

Carefully, getting rid of the nightgown Makima looked at you sheepishly. You smiled and guided her to the bed, hovering above her, maintaining eye contact as you inserted your hands inside her panty. Warm, wet, needy. It did not take you long to push two sets of fingers inside her while your lips worked over her areola. Her hands tried to reach your feminity but she was too lost in chasing her high. You pushed your fingers further and quickened the pace feeling her strong grip over your arms, eyes shutting, back arching as her fluids coated your hand.

Sure, Lilith fed on lust but her preys were not on women, only men. It has been a while since you had slept with someone and they were still alive. To think that, a girl like her would be a virgin was every bit of shocking it was as much as it was exciting otherwise she would not have been tired just after three rounds of orgasm. At least, you expected her to be awake for pillow talk or even sharing a smoke. Stealthily, you left the bed standing in front of the mirror in the same spaghetti and shorts but with bite marks all over your neck, and waistline.

“told you she was a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes and headed towards the bathroom grabbing your phone.

@tokyometronetwork @public-safety-network @underratedcharactercorner

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vaya-writes · 4 months

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The Wyvern's Bride - Epilogue

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

2300 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

Thank you for your patience. It's only been (checks notes) almost nine months. If it's not fresh in mind, I wouldn't force yourself to reread. The style of this chapter is slightly different, doesn't require much coherency with the rest. Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me this long, and I hope you enjoy the final installment of The Wyvern's Bride. No content warnings for this chapter. Unless PDA makes you uncomfortable xo

There are memories tucked away in each corner of The Wyvern’s Flock. The façade may have changed, but Adalyn can still see herself in the foundations of the building. She still knows the number of steps from the entrance hall to the doorways. The bakery where she’d received customers has been rearranged, a taproom in its place, but the kitchen remains, equipped with the oven her father had modified. She can see it, past the counter where Grace greets them and takes their orders.

Slate holds Adalyn’s hand when they enter what had once been her dining room. It’s still a dining room, part of her is glad to see. The fireplace still burns, and there’s a new clock over the mantle. But smaller tables and benches fill the area. Where once walls had hung bare, they’re now decorated with paintings and tapestries. Adalyn is taken aback by how much colour they bring to the establishment.

There’s a pause in conversation when they enter the room. It doesn’t quite fall silent, but people still stare as they sit by the window. Adalyn goes as far as to put her back to the room, to better blot out the distracting eyes. She’s not here to mind the gossip. Only to have lunch and spend time with her husband.

Word that a wyvern had settled in the valley had spread like wildfire, and people had come from far and wide, just for a chance to see him. It had started with the locals. People trying to sell their livestock. Craftsmen offering skills. The young and unmarried asking after serving positions.

Then word had spread further. Merchants had visited, scrabbling at the chance to trade from Slate’s hoard. Niche craftsfolk had come next. There had been sculptors (mostly turned away), glass makers (temporarily contracted), painters (generously commissioned). Then the jewel smiths, the weavers, alchemists, scribes and tinkerers, until Slate was referring them elsewhere, interested in single purchases and commissions, but not yet ready to hire every person with a trade who came to his door.

With all the skill and money coming to and from the valley, it’s no surprise when the area goes through an economic boom. The area flourishes. The trade festival becomes renowned. Northpoint and Tuscany both double in size as new folk migrate to the region.

The Wyvern’s Flock reflects this easily. The seats are full and the atmosphere is lively. Grace and Gwen have nearly finished paying off Adalyn, years ahead of schedule. As far as Adalyn is aware, the ladies have no regrets. Moving away from their families had been a boon to them both. Grace gets to run her own business, and Gwen gets to run her own kitchen. There’d been obstacles (refurnishing, family drama, local pushback), but things have settled enough that the women now run their business together without raising too many brows.

People stare at Adalyn though. Or perhaps Slate. He’s in his demi form, boldly grasping Adalyn’s hand over the table, sharpened teeth glinting as he talks. She used to shy from the attention. Feel judged by the stares; grow defensive at the scrutiny.

Adalyn squeezes his hand.

Slate pulls back to retrieve some papers from his bag. He moves his chair around the table, so they can pour over the blueprints side by side. She doesn’t flinch when his hand comes to rest on her thigh, though her cheeks do colour with blush. The gesture is under the table, hidden from public eye, and they are married. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the touch.

It still thrills her. A smile plays at her lips.

They chatter about their latest project. Adalyn’s first draft of the stable, drawn almost a year ago, had been cleaned up and heavily referenced in the newer blueprint. It always fills her with warmth, when Slate takes her ideas on board.

The project can’t be put off any longer. With the workers streaming in, they’ll need a permanent stable. A safe way to deal with the offers for work and commerce. Currently mail is left at Fleecehold for Adalyn.

The path through the Spires is steep and crumbling; twisting and incredibly narrow in places. Adalyn can’t help but admire those persistent and skilled enough to make it to the castle entrance.

Most don’t. The path is dangerous. People are attempting to navigate it with alarming regularity. It’s gotten to the point where The Wyvern’s Flock receives a stream of complaints about lost packages, twisted ankles, and near falls. She knows it’s beginning to frustrate Grace and Gwen, despite their assurances otherwise.

It only reinforces the need for a stable. One at the bottom for travellers to stow their horses and swap them out with mules. And one at the top for the animals that complete the journey. They’re considering hiring a guide too.

Because the couriers don’t stop coming. The work applications and correspondences don’t slow. Slate had built himself a castle. It needs staff to maintain it. And there is no shortage of offers.

Adalyn strokes the back of Slate’s hand with her thumb.

He squeezes her leg back, automatic, before stopping suddenly. He gives a rueful wince. “Was I getting off topic?”

She smiles. “No.”

“But I was rambling.”

Adalyn rolls her eyes. “I don’t mind. You know this.”

His cheeks tinge grey with blush, before he presses a kiss to the back of her free hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve spoken about nothing but work.”

She glances pointedly at the blueprints. “That was the plan.”

Slate shares a soft look with Adalyn, his eyes sparkling. “I love you.”

“Yes. I know.”

Slate straightens. Places his hand over his chest in mock indignance.

Adalyn relents, grinning again. “And I love you too.”

Slate puts away the blueprints. “We can revisit this again when the materials are ready. Will you tell me about your morning?”

Adalyn had worried that she’d be left with little to do when she sold her bakery. That the kitchen in the Spires would only keep her occupied for so long. That she’d finish reading Slate’s collection of books, and grow bored. She’d been wrong.

In the days passed she’s practically become Slate’s manager. And that’s just regarding how he handles construction. Half of her job is keeping Slate on task. Reminding him to finish buildings before starting new ones. Helping him prioritise. Making a hard copy of his mental to do list.

It takes patience and understanding. Slate tends to hop between projects on whim. At first she can’t fathom why he’ll be lengthening the servant’s quarters one morning, and then building a hunter’s lodge in the East Forest by the afternoon.

Sometimes he needs it. Needs that project rotation, to prevent him from falling to tedium. Other times he jumps tasks so he won’t forget his new ideas. It’s her job to learn the difference. To gently coach Slate back on track, to take note of his ideas so he can come back to them later. He seems grateful for the assistance. And she appreciates being deferred to. Doesn’t mind the extra work.

Adalyn’s tower had been left unfinished. A side project Slate returns to from time to time, in between other buildings. A servant’s wing had been higher priority. Their staff require a dormitory, a kitchen, a dining area, easy access to running water and a path to the mainway. Slate adds to the quarter every month or so, as more staff are recruited.

When she’s not helping Slate, Adalyn deals with administrative errands. Sorts the mail. Handles the budget. Manages staff. Somebody has to draft contracts and organise pay and give the hapless craftfolk wandering their halls some semblance of an orientation. Scatterbrained as he is, Slate tends to hire people first and ask questions later.

They’d first hired a goatherder, one who was willing to double as a poulterer. Adalyn didn’t want to head to Fleecehold every time she needed supplies, and having her own source of eggs, milk, and cheese (and somebody to mind the animals) is one of the first luxuries she put Slate onto.

While construction was still underway, Slate had started hiring crafters directly. Many he would source from the valley – several professionals, and the occasional apprentice. Others he sent away for. Until there’re a modest collection of people living part time in the Spires, commissioned to create and build at Slate’s whim before the next year passes. A smith busy with hinges, nails, and other iron fittings. Woodworkers and carvers to furnish the place. Niche workers from afar for the more lavish fixtures.

Then Slate hires artists.

Decorations are a must. If not for his rich tastes, then to help tell the many corridors and caverns apart. People to spin tapestries, depicting Slate’s family history. Tanners, to produce leather and fine furs from Slate’s hunting, working in tandem with an upholsterer to ensure that seats and lounges are adequately cushioned. Weavers, to create an ample source of bedding for the servant’s quarter, and spinners, to make and provide thread and yarn for aforementioned weavers and fibre artists. Until Adalyn is dizzy with the sheer number of craftsfolks wandering their halls.

Some of the art comes from further abroad. A handful of paintings and tapestries are commissioned. Slate hardly has the need for stonemasons and sculptors, but he still hires a few. He decorates the halls in limestone reliefs. The scales and wings of his family are repeated motifs. There are also hints at domesticity here and there. Designs featuring the valley; carved sheep in odd places, and crops and foods in others. Patterns peaking from a wall in the kitchen, or near the garden doors.

Mostly they’d hired serving staff. As Slate’s castle grows, so does the housework. There is too much floor space, too many oil lamps and braziers that require maintenance. Adalyn has enough on her plate without handling the laundry or the sweeping and polishing.

She’s still the only person allowed to wander the Tower. Slate had deemed his horde too valuable; hadn’t wanted anyone else handling their possessions. Adalyn figures he just doesn't want anyone fussing.

Next they’ll have to hire a stable hand. And look for a guide, to take people up and down the Spires. But those tasks can wait.

Grace arrives with their food. Cheese toast sprinkled with salt and rosemary for Adalyn – who makes a note to try cooking it at home. And a haunch of meat, dripping and rare, just the way Slate likes it. There’s wine too; the ladies had a trade deal with Ivar’s brewery, and Adalyn’s visits to The Wyvern’s Flock are a rare chance for her to indulge in his reputed winterberry wine.

Adalyn digs into her meal while her friend lingers, catching her up on the latest happenings. Adalyn doesn’t get to be social very often, and she’s grown to appreciate the comradery and tentative friendship that the Grace and Gwen have offered her.

They chat about Lindel. The woman had kept in touch with Adalyn, writing regularly. She still lives with her family, farming and spinning with the rest of the women in her village. Her life hadn’t changed much in the last year, but being the semi-final contender to marry Slate had bought her some respect amongst the others in her village. Even if she keeps the details of the trials to herself.

Errah comes up too. She’s still a bit of a recluse, shepherding in one of the smaller settlements. Neither does she write, though Adalyn suspects that has more to do with her ability, rather than her desire.

One of Slate’s cousins had been checking in on her, and the occasional sight of the silvery wyvern has been a fierce topic of gossip. Adalyn listens avidly. Lune hadn’t bothered visiting the Spires. It’s apparently poor etiquette for one wyvern to visit another’s territory and not declare themselves, but Slate doesn’t mind.

Adalyn decides to visit Errah. If Lune is attempting to court her, then she’d probably appreciate the hard earned information Adalyn could share about that particular experience.

Gwen wanders over, and conversation turns towards business. Repayments on the building. Mail collection. Food orders.

The sun sets and the stars wheel gently overhead by the time Slate and Adalyn leave. They walk the settlement for a while, and Adalyn is struck with the fond memory of when she’d given Slate his first tour of the area.

The night grows cold and Adalyn shivers.

Slate wraps his arm around her shoulders and steers her towards the courtyard. He transforms, without a care for who sees him. Adalyn can’t help but smile again, reminded vividly of the first time Slate had landed here in this form. The power he’d given her at his entrance.

What’s with that look?

Adalyn shakes her head. “I’m just feeling nostalgic.”

She brushes her fingers against his scaled snout. Smiles up at him, before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

He rumbles; a sound of contentment.

“I had a nice time tonight. Thank you.”

He doesn’t reply, nuzzling his face against her shoulder instead. His tongue flicks out across her neck, playful and affectionate. Adalyn yelps, before dissolving into laughter at the ticklish sensation.

Slate lowers his head further. Nudges her side, more forcefully.

Climb on already. I want to take you home.

She nearly flushes at his directness. Feigns shock with a hand over her mouth. “So forward, Slate?”

His huff sends a breath of hot air at her face, but he doesn’t otherwise reply. He’s familiar with the joke. It’s not the first time she’s made it.

Adalyn kisses him again before climbing up. Jests aside, she looks forward to getting back to the Tower. To whatever Slate might have in mind for the evening.

Once more, the shadow of a wyvern passes over Clearwater Valley.

#holy shit #im actually kind of emotional posting this #its finally done #woah #anyway #vaya writes #wyverns #dragons #monster romance #also i got so sick of the word smile while editing this

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bethyyoung · 4 months

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We don't have to talk

of where we go from here

Introducing... Beth Young

| Soundtrack | Living Space | Style

TW: Mention of blood, allusions to parental death

Mr. and Mrs. Young, in the grand Nuclear Family Tradition, had two children 18 months apart and were done with family expansion. Beth still laughs to think of how traditional it all had been. Girl Scouts, bake sales, softball, summer vacations to sensibly-planned locales.

Cursed with Gifted Kid Syndrome, things largely came easy to Beth. She was what teachers called "a pleasure to have in class", what her dad called spunky, and what caused her mom to call her, "a little firecracker". Quick to smile and instinctively inclusive, Beth was a light that other kids flocked to.

She still believes, to one degree or another, that her natural shine left Colin no choice but to live in the shadow it cast. She spent no small amount of time trying to make up for it; to share her circle, defend him from others, to spend as much time with her brother as he'd allow.

Despite the usual sibling tiffs, Beth and Colin were close, and she considered it a compliment when Colin asked to stay with her after his graduation. A few friends tried their hand at flirting with Colin, but nothing ever lasted. They'd wrongly assumed Beth would play matchmaker, not understanding that - under her cajoling - Beth respected her brother's autonomy too much for that.

So the years passed. Moving - homes and jobs and friendship circles - and Beth had settled into a pleasant life.

Then a routine visit at her parents' place went right to hell, and the world seemed to be quickly following. From their front yard she'd called 911, confusedly answered their question about bites, about "containing the threat". and agreed to go home and stay there. She'd barely gotten back and washed the blood off her skin when Collin showed up with his RV.

Beth hardly had time to appreciate the role reversal - it took this for him to suddenly become the leader? He convinced her that sitting in her apartment was no solution - they had to move.

But Beth knew it couldn't just be them alone forever. People need people - they couldn't solve every problem between the two of them. And sure, the first try didn't end well - but you can't write off everyone because of one bad experience... right?

Headcanons |

Beth and her brother's cat don't get along. While there are no outright hostilities, the peace is uneasy at best. Beth thinks Winter just dislikes having competition for Colin's attention.

Diagnosed with ADHD in young adulthood, Beth is sorely missing her medication these days.

Colin definitely brings out Beth's more mischievous, impulsive side. It's like she's a teen again; goading him into socializing, into taking chances and coming out of his shell. Maybe she'll reflect on that should she ever feel settled enough to leave Survival Mode.

Thinks it's silly to hide your true self at this point. Everyone could die any second, why would someone wanna go out being inauthentic?

That said, she doesn't go out of her way to share what happened with her parents, or what more she's done to survive since. Keeping parts of your past to yourself isn't the same as disguising your personality.

Now, Beth is an educated woman, but it doesn't mean she can't break out a good old Appalachian idiom should the moment strike just so.

Never wanted kids, something her mother frequently argued with Beth over.

One Tattoo: A song lyric on her left shoulder

Wanted Connections |

The Neighbor (1/1) - She used to live in an RV near the solar panels and yours was the closest residence. @vallaurent

| Personality Traits | Confident, Extroverted, Impulsive, Inclusive

#about #gif #redwood.intro

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appetite4savage · 1 year

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City of Angels (Phil Collen)

@thiswatch-lepparddef-werehi and I were taking about how City of Angels by Demi Lovato reminded us of Phil and how it needed to be a one shot… so here we are. It also has a touch of Daisy Jones & The Six because I’ve been obsessed with that show lately!

Warnings: Sexual/Adult/Explicit Content!

Y/N’s POV

The City of Angels. What a silly name for city that is full of people who are far from angels.

I’ve lived here my whole life. I grew up going to Catholic school and being the perfect little girl my parents wanted to be. It all changed once I got to experience the wonders the Sunset Strip brought at nightfall.

The sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll scene changed me. I started staying out late and bringing home a different guy every night. Somehow my parents never knew it. Maybe they did, and just didn’t have the energy to care. That wasn’t an unusual thing for them. I think they forgot I existed most of the time anyway.

I live alone now, and haven’t spoken to them much over the last few months. I fill the void with whatever I can get my hands on, but still manage to function and maintain a job at the local music store.

I’ve seen all kinds of people in my shop. Guys in no-name bands to rockstars with number one albums. I treat them all the same. It’s always been about the music for me.

The bell over the door rings for the hundredth time today. I sigh and get up from my comfortable sitting position to greet them.

“Hey, welcome to Guitar World. How can I help you today?” I say in what I like to call my customer service voice.

The man takes off his sunglasses and I realize who it is. Phil Collen.

“Hello, love.” He smiles. “I’m just looking around.”

I try to pretend like I’m not absolutely fawning over him. Def Leppard has been a favorite band of mine for a long while. I watch intently while he strolls around, picking up various packs of strings and plucking the guitars that are on display.

Pull yourself together, Y/N. If he catches you staring, what will he think?

Almost as if he could hear this thought, he turns around and we make eye contact. I quickly pretend I was looking somewhere else, but I think he knows.

He comes up to the counter with the items he picked out.

I cough, nervously. “Will this be all?” I mutter as I scan everything.

“Actually, no.” He says. I pause, looking up at him. He’s leaning with one elbow onto the counter. “I’d like to know your name.”

Suddenly it feels my air circulation has cut off. Is this happening right now?

“Uh, Y/N.”

“Phil, but I think you already knew that.” He places money on the counter along with a note, winking before heading out the door.

I stand frozen for a moment before picking up the small sheet of paper and unfolding it. It’s his phone number.

I got off work hours ago, but still keep replaying that moment in my head. I hold the small piece of paper in my hand, tapping my fingers against the phone.

Without thinking any more about it, I dial the number quickly.

“Hello?”

“Phil! Hi. It’s-“

“Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

He was waiting for ME to call?

“Um, right. What are you up to?”

“Not much.”

“Do you want to meet me back at the shop? I’m about to lock up, and well, I understand if you don’t want to.” My words run together from my nervousness.

His laughter rings throughout the phone. “I’ll be there in 20.” The receiver clicks and I’m left with silence, aside from my heart beating out of my chest at ten thousand miles per hour.

Sure enough, he arrives a few minutes later. He’s wearing the same outfit he had on earlier, but with a leather jacket added on top of it. I don’t think he’s ever had a bad look in his life.

We end up walking around town, taking in the night scenery. There’s not much light other than the moon shining down above us.

After a bit of walking, we reach a building that is all too familiar to me. The church I grew up going in. The one I went to school in. I stop in my tracks and face it.

His warm hand grasps my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay. I just… I just grew up in this church and went to school here. It saw the good, bad and ugly parts of my life.”

“I see.” He says. He starts to walk up to the doors and go inside.

“What are you doing?”

He turns around to look at me. “I’m going inside.”

“No, we might get in trouble.” I try to stop him, but he just laughs at me in response. He goes inside.

Looking around frantically, I go inside after him.

All the memories come rushing back.

“So you wore one of those little skirts, eh?” He smirks.

“Yes, sometimes much shorter than I was supposed to.” I sit in one of the back pews as he glances around.

“Oh, a rulebreaker.” He inches closer, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the back of the room.

“Gave the nuns hell.” My back ends up pressed against the wall.

“I believe it.” He closed what little space there was between us, pressing his forehead against mine and snaking his arm around my waist. “Want to break some more?”

I don’t respond, I just immediately latch my lips onto his. He meanders his hand inside my top, the sensation of his touch giving me goosebumps.

He picks me up, gripping my hips as he carries me back to the pew we sat at before. He starts to pull off my top, but I stop him. “No time, the night guard will be here soon.” I learned the routine of this church like the back of my hand. After all, this is where I lost my virginity.

“So you did break some rules.” He laughs.

“Frequently. With half of the graduating class.”

He scoffs before he moves down to unbutton my jeans hastily, sliding them off of me along with my underwear. Instead of throwing the black, lacy fabric on the floor, he tucks them in his back pocket.

“Saving those for later.”

“On with it, Romeo.”

“As you wish.”

He reaches and puts two fingers inside, making me gasp from the sudden intrusion. “Already so wet. You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?”

I can’t get out any words other than a slight “Mm.”

He removes his fingers and starts undoing his own belt, sliding down his pants and boxers in one swift move.

I barely have time to catch my breath after he bottoms out on the first go.

“Goddammit, Phil!”

“Be careful how you use his name.” He whispers, his breath hitting my neck as he enters me again, and again. The old wood of the pew is knocking around just like it used to.

“Almost there.” I lock my ankles at the small of his back as a signal not to move. His movements get slower and slower until he fills me with his warmth.

He pants before leaning his head down on my shoulder.

“We have to go.”

He kisses my neck once more before pulling out of me, causing me to groan out of utter distaste.

We clean ourselves up and quickly get out of the building.

“Well, if there is a hell, we’re certainly going to it.”

“Oh well. I like the warmth anyway.” I wink, grabbing his hand and pulling him back down the sidewalk.

#def leppard fan fiction #appetite4savage writes #Phil Collen fan fiction

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thefreakhouseband · 1 year

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Welcome to the Freak House!

About Us

Audrey Arson

I'm the oldest of the band. I'm a bit of a self-proclaimed older sister to the others and I feel super protective of them. When I'm not making music with the band you can usually find me working on my comic or some other artistic pursuit. I'm a chronically exhausted college student. You can tell what songs I wrote by them having a more jazzy or melancholy tone to them or just being bat-shit off the walls insane. Some of my inspirations are MCR, Scene Queen, , Set It Off, and Demi Lovato (for some reason).

-Your resident garbage girl

Butchface

I’m that guy with the neon green hair in the blog’s pfp lol. pronouns are he/him, xe/xem/xyr, and it/its. I take a lot of influence from older punk rock and, surprisingly, country and folk music. my favorite bands are My Chemical Romance, Oingo Boingo, They Might Be Giants, The Cure, Talking Heads, Bikini Kill, Shilpa Ray, Black Sabbath, Rainbow, Iron Maiden, The Magnetic Fields, The Daniel Pemberton TV Orchestra, Lemon Demon, Man or Astro-Man, Radiohead (not in a pretentious way, I swear), Will Wood, Creedence Clearwater Revival… oh boy, there’s a lot. I like music! I tend to disappear at unpredictable intervals due to chronic pain/fatigue and parental restrictions, but I always come back. I like writing songs about things I’m passionate about, which is often personal, sometimes political, and every now and then a ballad about freaky-looking deep sea creatures. or weevils. I keep my dad’s old stenobook by my bedside to write lyrics in - he wrote lyrics for the Panama City punk bands he was in in 1990-ish in there, and I figured I could put it to good use again after all these years. he’s cool with it. see you around, and stay safe out there 🪲

Harley Homicide

I'm sassy, I'm trashy and (if you pay me enough) I'll let you put it in my ass-y. I'm the band's second oldest and the token British person. I use any pronouns, I literally don't care what you call me xx. My music taste is all over the place, having been raised by a metalhead and a former chav during a time where pop punk and emo were more mainstream. I'd say my biggest inspirations in terms of performing are Freddie Mercury and Ronnie James Dio. You'll be able to tell which songs are written by me because they're shit! I'm not much good at writing, but I'm great at partying like I'm Paris Hilton. When I'm not doing band stuff, you can find me shopping, watching/reading/playing anything DC comics related or just sorta... Staring into space. I don't do much, but I'm still your fave member fer sure! Thanks for visiting The Freakhouse! We hope you enjoy your stay!

Xoxo Harlz <3

Dart Darling

Hi I'm Dart, I'm genderfluid (any pronouns), and I'm from under the ground at your local graveyard! I'm one of the youngest, and that's super tragic because I'm an undead zombie who died from being too damn glamorous. My idol is Melissa Marie and i love the Millionaires. Also, my ghostly tendencies give me a lot of appreciation for the dramatic, and as well as all things scene and crunkcore I love theatre, cabaret, and steampunk. I've been producing music for about a year now so if the synths crunching, just know it was me, tapping away and not understanding what the equalizer does. I'm bringing you Dead Girl Couture 25/8, 366. Don't mind all the Sanrio merch around the Freakhouse, I started a cult for Hello Kitty! I mean church. You should definitely join us 😁

Til death do we party,

-Dart <3

GRACIEEEE

YOOO WASSUP!!! X3 My namez GRACE! (if you dont know me, pls call me Grace, not Gracie)

I'm gendersylphen (he/they/neos) and I'm a super cool alien with adhd from OUTER SPACEEEE! My fav colors are all of them except brown, my special interests are space and doraemon, and I LOVE SCENE SM! Crunkcore 4 LYFEEE! I wanna be an astronaut when I grow up! Also I'm the youngest here 💀💀💀💀💀 (btw im a minor so plz don't be a weirdo, tyyyy)

I'm mostly new to music and I'm SUPER excited!!! X) Ik this is gonna be rllyrlly fun!!! For me, my music stuff is gonna be super bouncy, upbeat, happy, optimistic, full of rhymes, so tht's when yk smth's by me! My fav bands/artists are Amy Can Flyy, Green Day, Nikasaur, 4*Town (4townie 4 eva!!! Aaron T is best boy) and a LOT of other stuff.

When I'm not with tha band, you can find me playing with my sibs (including my dog), doing stuff with my homiez, reading/watching Doraemon or abt space, or doing idk whatever bc I do alot. XP

So ye! Thts a bit abt me! Tysm for reading abt us, may God bless u, follow ur dreams, and have a super duper fun day! 😄

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picathartidae · 7 days

Note

Hi! for the ask game:

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

27: What was their life like before the events of BG3?"

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

6. What companion are you platonically close with?

Alassane's best friend is Karlach, hands down, no contest. I like to think he develops healthy friendships with the whole gang, but Karlach is absolutely his closest friend and the person he trusts more than anyone else.

7. Romantically close with?

Astarion. Their relationship is kind of messy and complicated and they probably shouldn't work together at all, but somehow they do.

(I'm a basic bitch and I think durgestarion is neat)

11. Weapon of choice?

He is a typical rogue and favours daggers over anything else, and is full of stupid knife tricks. I usually like to give him Dolor Amarus come Act 3, because the fact that it's serrated fits Alassane's vibe so well.

12. What is their orientation?

He's complicated, but the simplest way to describe him is that he's some flavour of aspec, most likely demi. So he needs to have an established close relationship with someone to get those feelings, and that was not a thing for him the vast majority of his life, because he's self-sufficient to a fault and kept everyone at a distance.

Long story short, he's completely repulsed in all the ways, until he isn't.

27. What was their life like before BG3?

(potential spoilers)

Alassane is very much a Dark Urge character, so he was a prolific serial killer and head of the local murder cult.

I imagine the cult was in a relatively precarious situation following the events of the Iron Crisis, and floundering somewhat -- Alassane's main priorities in leading the cult would have been to recover from those losses, and regain footing following certain events in 1482 DR.

In that time, Alassane travelled across Faerûn with relative frequency, and was very carefully maintaining strict anonymity within Baldur's Gate, as he believed they were better able to achieve their goals if they remained beneath the city's notice. He was generally very diligent and productive, and I'm of the mind he was well respected for it. Then, you know, things happened.

He has a whole backstory that is long and spoilery and probably a bit much to put here.

28. Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

I wouldn't say he's the de facto leader, precisely, but he's definitely best qualified for the position, even if he doesn't remember that. I'm trying to write him with the idea that it's an ongoing arc for him, as he comes back to himself and more into his own as a person.

#answered asks #character asks #oc: alassane erendse

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seekdevotion · 8 months

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* 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 : good to see you 'round these devo parts, abilene louetta merrick. please submit your account within twenty - four hours. alisha boe is now taken !

── ( alisha boe. demi woman, she/they. ) recently seen standing in the middle of an imax aisle – eyes wide and wondrous as gaze falls upon no other but mike myers as THE cat in the hat, 20 year anniversary back - to - back filming all weekend long; hair full of popcorn from disgruntled movie - goers, arm tugged at by security – but, wait, how do they clean up all that GOO? – tripping over one's own feet to chance a second look as escorted out at specterscope cinemas: enter ABILENE LOUETTA HENRY MERRICK. twenty six years old & a taurus, usually observed in trousers several sizes too large, belt comically looped over and under and over again, hem always snagging at the heels of mud - caked boots, distressed from years of exposure to salt - laced air, and an old nightgown, lace tarnished and stained, tucked haphazardly beneath band; wrinkled despite the amount of hand smoothing over and under and over again, obscured by a sweater more patchwork than wool, more home than cloth ; abby is a devotion local known within their circle as WONDROUS + CLEMENT, a perpetual hum of white rabbit by jefferson airplane on salted mouth. something of the SHAMBOLIC + DÉMODÉ follows, regardless … something to do with wanting to press hands up against massive tv screen – how'd they get the image so clear? – modern technology lost only to self, perhaps ? strange, what a HUMAN can get up to. they’ve been heard waxing lyrical about a dream they had recently, a strange tale of descending a never - ending well, cobblestone no longer of dirt and moss, but tissue and sinew, ligament and tendon – living, breathing; alice becometh wonderland, and wonderland reaping what has been sown . pay no mind to fanciful star - gazing, though: rather, mind the tangible. focus on body and mind split apart from one another; feet firm against breathing soil acting as mortal anchor, and mind still cast upon never - setting moons and trees of weeping bark; here, there, and everywhere, anywhere at once / coming back to a home half - sunken, earth reclaiming wood that was once its own; only remnants a collection of dust and a bedroom no one could bare to change; one part of the rotted wood, now – no choice but to lay in bed made / solace found in low - tide waters; only bearable through misplaced nostalgia – what right do you have to mourn a life abandoned? – comfort in a paddle that keeps hitting pond bottom scum, netted fish one's only companionship . / committed to legend by james, 24, they/them, est. n/a.

*barkeep at the whalers & cashier at flagship records

#accepted.#Nothing cld go wrong today in fact i can leave this earth happily now-[sniped for the dramatics we get it ur gay-] [sniped again]

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thistleandthorn-rpg · 9 months

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Congrats Demi on your audition for Chuck Clayton! Please check out this page here for more information, and please send us his blog within 48 hours. Welcome to the group!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: Demi Preferred pronoun: she/her Age: 28 Timezone/Country: CST/USA RP Experience: about 10ish years Activity Level: I try to be on just about everyday when I’m not at work

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Chuck Clayton Designation: Dominant Age: 27 Birthdate: December 31st, 1995 Faceclaim: Jordan Calloway Orientation: pansexual Kinks: rough sex, spanking, choking, dirty talk, face fucking,daddy kink, breeding, pain play, humiliation, blindfolds, multiple partners, public sex, praise, slut shaming Anti-Kinks: feet, scat, permanent scarring, watersports, blood play

Key Points: -friendly -night owl -wears his heart on his sleeve -arrogant -creative -worry wart -cheeto fiend -sarcastic

BIO

The Clayton family did originally have roots in New Orleans before they shuffled around from place to place. Due to them never really staying in one place for every long, that led to Chuck using arrogance as a way to get what he wants, because everyone loves a bad boy right? It took a while before he was able to break out of that cycle and see that being that over the top arrogant person wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

Chuck was raised by two dominants, Christopher Clayton and Raquel Morrison-Clayton, who had their own claims so he was familiar with the system from a young age. He was raised in it and because his parents had no problem with the system, Cameron had no problems with the system. He truly never questioned anything growing up because he trusted his parents and that they wouldn’t be immersing him into a lifestyle that had any flaws.

The Clayton family is a rather large one with two different sets of triplets. Chuck and his siblings being the children of the two dominants, and Christopher going on the have three more children with his submissive. They were all raised to he very close and not see each other as half siblings.

The family did eventually settle down into Ohio when Christopher got a job at one of the local high schools where Chuck excelled in sports more than he did academics. It was his bad boy persona that landed him into a bit of trouble that led to him being kicked off the football team. That in turn made him spiral a little and lash out of people for a little while before he did some soul searching. It was in that time that Chuck was able to find his love for art again and enroll into an art institute before coming to Stonewall

BIO QUESTIONS:

What are your feelings about the mark you have received? - I think it’s pretty fitting actually. I’ve always thought as myself as a natural born leader. I know it’ll take some getting used to before I really come into my own but I’m up for the challenge.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it? - My feelings are exactly the same as my parents. I was raised a certain way and that is all that I know and I’ve never truly questioned anything.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate? - I would absolutely love to illustrate children’s books. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a little kid myself.

How do you feel about authority? - I really don’t have a problem with authority. If you would’ve asked me back in high school, my answer probably would’ve been different but I’ve matured and understand that no matter what the mark is, there’s always a hierarchy that everyone needs to follow.

#accepted #demi

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mvlong · 2 years

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Overlord ii crunchyroll

#Overlord ii crunchyroll full

#Overlord ii crunchyroll tv

#Overlord ii crunchyroll free

To make matters worse, other kingdoms conspire to overthrow the undead king! Will his vision for a utopia come to fruition? Heavy lies the crown, even for the guy with unlimited power. Deep in the mountains of Azerlisia lie the Dwarves’ mortal enemy, a demi-human race, the Quagoa, gathered ready to invade. Newly crowned Ains has big plans for his Sorcerer Kingdom, but so do his enemies. Continuing his quest to rule this new world, Ains begins to put the pieces in place for his conquest. Shipping 50+ Add to Wishlist Shop All Overlord Want a store discount Go Premium.

#Overlord ii crunchyroll free

Overlord Anime Staff Details Directed byĪT-X, Tokyo MX, Sun TV, KBS, TV Aichi, BS11, MBS Crunchyroll Store Media Blu-ray Overlord II - Season 2 - Classics - Blu-ray 37.49 Quantity: Add to Cart Free U.S. On July 18, 2022, Crunchyroll announced an English dub for the fourth season, which began streaming on July 19. A new episode will come out every Tuesday at 10:00 PM JST. Season 2 will run from around July 5, 2022, to September 27, 2022. It has been confirmed on Twitter that Overlord Season 4 will have a total of 13 episodes. How Many Episodes Does Overlord Season 4 Will Have? Here is when the same episode will release in your region:

#Overlord ii crunchyroll tv

The episodes will first air on Japanese local TV networks and then will arrive on the above-mentioned streaming platforms within 1-3 hours. The episodes will first air on local network channels on Tokyo MX, MBS, and BS NTV and then will arrive on the online streaming platforms within the next 1-2 hours. And fans in south-east Asia can watch it on Muse Asia Network.

#Overlord ii crunchyroll full

More than half of the characters are full of themselves, Ainz is still a bad actor and I see no real reason why he continues to act the way he does (other than fearing the NPC's abandoning him, maybe there is some force that is forcing him without his knowledge).Folks in the USA, Canada, Mexico, and Brazil can watch the latest episodes of officially on Crunchyroll. Story is all over the place and generally a mess, yet I still find myself liking most parts, especially when Ainz isn't acting like a massive a-hole.Īnimation is good, but not as good as the 1st season. One question must be asked: Where did the money go? After the success of the first season and manga/LN, one might think that Season 2 would get an even bigger budget than Season 1, but if so why did the overall quality drop? How dare they give best girl Nabe so little screen time!? Makes me sad :( Supposed real people acting chuuni as hell and while this is mostly cringy, it occasionally makes one smile. This feels like its just pulling bits of it at random, and doesn't feel like a story anymore.Īlso, dear Japan, please stop making anime out of things written by 12 year olds.Īinz/Momon continues his "world conquest?", except this season he rarely makes an appearance and the whole season feels like world building and as cute as lizard people in love are and as interesting as Sebas gaining an ego is, I just wished that some parts would have been given less screen time and other more. Here is the Overlord 4 episode 6 premiere release time: 10 PM JST 6 AM PT 9 AM ET 2 PM BST 3 PM CEST Crunchyroll Premium subscribers will be able to watch the new Overlord 4 episode as soon. Like knitting socks for your computer desk. Overall, I'd say don't watch this if you have anything better to do. Overall, it left me liking an old character more, and just despising everyone else. New characters turn up and get no development. Nothing special to see here.Ī couple characters get some good development. I didn't notice in the first season because the story gripped me enough. Looks like it is setting up to be one of those things with 100+ episodes, and ain't nobody got time for dat shit.Īlso, the animation is really clumsy in this one. Also, all the story things happening last season? Yeah, nothing is answered at all. So instead of getting a story that is gripping and entertaining, you have episodes following stories that just don't seem important because they aren't tied to the characters we care about, or they just don't finish. An anime is shorter than a light novel, and they try to include too much. It has some interesting things, but it suffers from light novel syndrome. They try to do too much and as such none of it is done well.

#Overlord ii crunchyroll

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raindancer2004 · 3 years

Text

Alec’s My Best Friend

Word Count: 1,411 Alec x Child OC Warnings: Lots of fluff. Strictly Platonic relationship between Alec and OC.

Fluff prompt: Hello! I’m back! Could you also do Comfort / Fluff Prompt List for Alec Volturi? @college-is-coming

40: “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit” 41: “Wanna bet?”

Translation: Piccolo – Little one. Principessa - Princess

Athenodora and Sulpicia often visited the local orphanage often and would donate clothes and toys to the children, something the Kings approved of as it helped with the Queens longing to be mothers. Dora noticed a blonde little girl with blue eyes who looked to be no more than four-years-old. She was sitting in the corner reading / looking at a book all on her own. Dora recalled from memory that this little girl was always sitting in the corner on her own. Dora decided she wanted to adopt her and give her a home and a family.

Dora spoke to the lady who ran the orphanage and she agreed to let Dora take the girl home knowing the little girl would be well cared for. Dora and Sia took her home and although Caius was a little upset at not being consulted prior to the child coming to the castle to live, his heart melted the moment the girl smiled at up him and asked “Are you my new daddy?” He smiled back at her as he lifted her into his arms “Yes piccolo, I am” He held her close breathing in her scent ‘apple and mint’ Dora couldn’t help but smile at the sight before her. The three blondes looked like a real family too.

Caius and Dora changed her name from Neve to Rose for two reasons; one; both Neve and Dora disliked the name and two; this would make her truly their daughter.

Everyone fell in love with little Rose, their new princess the moment they met her. Rose got to spend a lot of time with the four elite guards as they were the bodyguards of the Kings and were the Queen’s favourite guards.

Rose took an instant liking to Alec, who in return took an instant liking to her much to everyone’s surprise seeing as she was human. Jane was the only one who wasn’t surprised by his actions and noticed the slight resemblance and similar mannerisms immediately, knowing Alec did too and smiled at her brother and Rose.

Demetri recalled Jane telling him once that she and Alec had a younger sister but that she had passed away before her third birthday and how Alec had doted on her. He also knew how protective Alec was of Jane despite her being gifted and noticed that he had become protective of Rose too.

Alec had promised Rose that he would show her his new Art supplies and that they could do some painting after his shift. Rose was so excited that she told everyone she saw that morning. “Demi guess what Alec and I are doing this afternoon?” She asked with a beaming smile “You’re going to paint his toenails using Jane’s nail polishes?” Demetri guessed and Rose giggled shaking her head “No silly. Try again” “Ok ok. I know, the two of you are going to play with your dolls and have a tea party?” He tried again and she giggled harder this time “Na uh, tea parties are just for us Demi” She whispered as she looked around the corridor. He smiled down at her actions “Well, I give up. What are you and Alec doing later?” He asked as he crouched down to her level “He’s going to show me his Art stuff and then we’re going to do some painting” She replied “Well that sounds like lots of fun, doesn’t it?” He said as he lifted her into his arms “Where to Principessa?” She thought for a moment before replying “I’d like to see Heidi please” He smiled and bowed his head “Of course, she’s in the kitchen.”

Alec showed Rose his new Art supplies and she watched as her eyes lit up and she bounced up and down excitedly. They spent the afternoon in his room painting although Rose got quite a bit of paint on the old shirt Alec had given her to wear. Rose was proud of the portrait of Alec she painted for him as well as the fingerpainted butterfly for Jane.

It had been snowing in Volterra for three days now and everything was covered in thick white snow “It looks so pretty” Rose said to Dora as she stared out her bedroom window “It does, maybe later we can play out in it” Dora replied and watched as her daughter’s face lit up “Really mummy? Can Alec come too?” “Yes, really piccolo. Alec can come too if he wants to” Dora replied and watched as her daughter ran from the room, knowing exactly where she was going.

Rose ran straight into Demetri’s room forgetting to knock, luckily for her the door was open “Hello Demi. Have you seen Alec?” She asked “Why are you looking for Alec?” Felix asks before Demetri could reply “Because Alec’s my best friend” Rose replies matter of factly, placing her hands on her hips “And I want to play in the snow with my best friend” She added. Demetri chuckled at her “Come with me Principessa, I’ll take you to him” “Thank you Demi” She replied with a smile.

Demetri grabbed his coat on the way out of the room and stopped by Rose’s room to get her coat, scarf and gloves “Put these on first, then we’ll go to Alec” Demetri said softly as he helped put them on.

They found Alec in the throne room “Alec” She called out and ran straight to him, he caught her with ease lifting her up into his arms “Rose, you look all warm and snug” He replied “That’s because I’m going to play in the snow and I want you to come with me” She told him with a smile “Well if you go outside with Demetri for now, I’ll meet you after my shift. How does that sound?” “FUN!” She cried out smiling, making the vampires in the room chuckle. Alec put her down and she ran from the room “I’ll race you Demi” He chuckled and ran after her.

Ten minutes later Rose and Demetri had a supply of snowballs ready to throw at Alec as soon as he came outside. Demetri popped his head up from behind the water feature in the garden holding up two snowballs ready to throw them at Alec’s back, although he handed one off to Rose. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit Demetri” Alec called out and Rose laughed “It was me Alec, not Demi” Her soft giggles filling the garden and Alec just turned and smiled at her before bending down and making a snowball of his own. “Run little one or I’m going to get you” “Wanna bet?” She called out and took off running, laughing as she did so.

Demetri chuckled watching Alec run at slow human pace after the little princess. Rose threw a snowball over her shoulder and it hit the tree, missing Alec completely. Alec gently threw the snowball and watched as it crumbled once it hit back “Gotcha” He called out smiling.

Demetri made a selection of snowballs for Rose “Here little one” He handed her two more snowballs “Traitor” Alec called out “She’s only little and you’re a grown up” Demetri replied. “I’m bored of our snowball fight. Alec can we build a snowman now?” She asked jumping up and down and toppled over in the snow, both vampires laughed at her. “I’ll leave you two to build your snowmen” Demetri said and left them to play in the snow.

Alec and Rose spent a few hours in the garden and made three snowmen, varying in height and named them; Alec, Jane and Rose. Alec taught Rose how to make snow angels and left a trail of them around the garden. Her giggles filled the air and Alec couldn’t help smiling at his little friend “Look Alec, I’ve made another angel” She pointed to the snow angel behind her “It’s a bit small though” He teased her “That’s because I’m small silly” She replied shaking her head at him.

Once finished playing in the snow Alec took Rose back into the castle and made her a hot chocolate and snuggled with her under some blankets on the sofa in his room and read her a story ‘George’s Marvellous Medicine.’ “Thank you for today Alec. You’re my best friend” She said sleepily and snuggled into his side “You’re welcome and you’re my best friend too” He replied softly and placed a kiss to her hair.

#alec volturi #alec x oc #jane volturi #demetri volturi #felix volturi #caius volturi #athenodora volturi #aro volturi #marcus volturi #sulpicia volturi #volturi #twilight

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thegrapeandthefig · 3 years

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Why personal devotion matters

(Listen to the audio version)

This week's post is a commentary of K. A Rask's article titled "Devotionalism, Material Culture, and the Personal in Greek Religion" published in Kernos, 29 in 2016 (you can read the whole thing here).

This 15-page article explores the notion of personal devotion in Ancient Greece and highlights the issues of academia on the matter. Yet, this article unintentionally puts a finger exactly on what modern practitionners of the religion argue about. I won't be summarizing the whole thing, instead I will be using here only what I consider to be key notions. Thus, I encourage you to read the complete article yourself for the information I won't be covering.

1. Plato would disaprove of the way modern pagans worship

Because he already disaproved of the way his contemporaries did. The main issue here is the notion of reciprocity. When we look at the way the Ancients worshipped, we find an important presence of reciprocity (offerings to make a prayer happen and/or votives in thanks of said prayer). Plato knew that his contemporaries worshipped this way and absolutely despised it. To cite the article:

"For Plato, human overemphasis on reciprocity went beyond into the realm of asebeia (‘impiety’). Furthermore, a major concern for Plato was the unmonitored and unsanctioned religious activity of individuals; he firmly supported institutional jurisdiction. Ostensibly this was because it was not possible to scrutinize para-institutional activity for religious incorrectness and it was thus a potential danger to the surrounding population at large. Undeniably, fear of divine repercussions resulting from the impiety of others is a recurrent theme in Classical discourse. Plato proposed laws to curtail individual religious autonomy, since he deeply distrusted, and was in fact rather exasperated with, personal religious activities of the type he describes thus: yet it is customary for all women especially, and for sick folk everywhere, and those in peril or in distress (whatever the nature of the distress), and conversely for those who have had a slice of good fortune, to dedicate whatever happens to be at hand at the moment, and to vow sacrifices and promise the founding of shrines to gods and demi-gods and children of gods; and through terrors caused by waking visions or by dreams, and in like manner as they recall many visions and try to provide remedies for each of them, they are wont to found altars and shrines, and to fill with them every house and every village, and open places, too, and every spot which was the scene of such experiences. (Laws 10.909e–910a)"

Sounds familiar? Have you ever turned to the gods in time of need? If you answered yes to this question, Plato disaproves. Needless to say, the practices Plato describes as impious here never stopped being practiced and if anything, became stronger over time. To the point where, today, personal worship is very much our only option.

2. Kharis is crucial to personal worship

That is, the relationship between the devotee and a deity. Kharis means "delight, pleasing thing" in the sense of a favor (see how it links back with the notion of reciprocity):

"The sense of reciprocity so evident in literature and epigraphical sources, however, often went beyond the ‘transactional’ towards exceptionally intimate and sentimental attachments."

The author uses Sappho and Aphrodite as an example here, but one could argue that the relationship between Aelius Aristide and Asclepius is of a similar nature. That being said, this is something most, if not all, modern practitionners experience. Geniune affection between a deity and a devotee is something we have traces of in the sources:

"Equally close were those gods who came in dreams, described hovering at the shoulders of the dreamers with gentle smiles; in inscriptions, they were parastatai, gods who ‘stood beside’ their worshippers. Not only were such interactions marked by genuine affection, but there could be a physical aspect as well, with the divine figure touching the human figure with a hand. Anja Klöckner comments, “the closeness of the human-divine encounter finds its clearest expression when a god touches humans."

This way of approaching the relationship between deity and worshipper makes it that we find in the people's worship things that a philosophical approach to the gods doesn't accept. Mainly, showing your discontentment with a god when a prayer hasn't been answered to by ignoring the deity. On a larger scale, this also happened in response to tragic events where worshippers thought they were being punished or smiten by the gods.

What Plato addresses when trying to regulate personal worship comes from the fact that the presence of priesthood is not necessary for worship:

"Abundant evidence reveals, however, that on many occasions individuals were capable of accessing sacred powers on their own, without institutional interference or mediating figures. Instead, people might set their own terms of engagement with invisible powers."

The authors gives several examples but it comes down to the idea that personal worship was free by nature. They did not necessitate a priest or an institution to sacrifice to a god or a hero, they had their own religious routine which could vary from a person to another and the participation to certain rites could be a matter of personal choice.

This makes the religious structure outside of the city-regulated rite very diverse, as we can see here:

"Yet men and women kept holy figures close and present in a variety of ways, beyond the clearly defined confines of sacred space. Images of the gods travelled with humans in the form of rings, seals, and other amulets, while the gods could be called upon whenever humans needed assurance, regardless of where they might be. Prayer seems to have occurred in all manner of locales, since “it was perfectly possible to pray on one’s own wherever one happened to be.”"

I'll summarize this point with this: the emotional engagement and intimacy between worshipper and deity is not a "modern pagan concept", contrarily to what some who have only read philosophy will tell you. The way the ancients experienced divinity through personal worship is actually not too far off from what modern worshippers experience today.

3. Devotional activities have always existed.

This post is getting long, so I will keep my commentary to the minimum:

"Many of the examples just presented showcase religious experiences that occur outside of the public stage or in moments that are not highly ritualized in the manner often associated with festivals, processions, and explicitly monitored situations. While women, men, and children negotiated and developed relationships with divinities in a way that was directly relevant to their own personal affairs, they also publicly declared their devotion and great affection for sacred figures. Beyond traditional votives, one could honor the gods through other media and expressions, such as labor or storytelling, whether verbally or visually. [...] I argue that one could show one’s devotion not just with material offerings but with the work (and results) of one’s own hand. Daily maintenance of shrines is a prime example of personal piety without overtly public, communal, or formalized elements. [...] His establishment of a garden also served as an offering. Cultivating gardens in shrines physically and materially manifested affection; the garden’s maintenance, as a form of repeated devotional activity, deserves much greater study."

I’ve made important cuts here so I urge you to go look at the article but I hope this gets my point across. I’m well aware that academia has not treated personal religious experiences with the same attention and study as official city religion and philosophical debates but it is necessary for us, as modern worshippers, recon or not, to pay attention to what was actually done by our predecessors. Not just what they wrote.

#yes i'm posting earlier this week #trying to plan ahead #hellenic paganism #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheism #hellenic polytheistic #hellenic polytheist #hellenismos #greek religion #this sounds like a rant and it kinda is

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

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TLC

A/N: Sorry not sorry about the length.

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Chubby! Thor x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, a little angst, but so much fluff!

Word count: 1900ish

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The events of the snap had affected everyone. Some more severely than the others. Millions had lost families, some mourned the loss of those who sacrificed their lives in the battle, others simply dusted away into oblivion with no signs of returning.

Your ex demi-God boyfriend took it the hardest. His downfall had begun when he took the entire blame of failing to stop the Mad Titan during the battle of Wakanda. His family, his support system was lost long before but he’d still managed to look at the bright side. It was you that he held onto when the times were tough.

Thanos wiped out half of the population along with every last strand of hope Thor had left to believe in himself. After that, he had pushed everyone away, wallowed in self-pity no matter how much he denied and pretended he was just taking a break. He pushed you away too, now that there wasn’t a point to anything he thought it best to set you free, free from the pain he’d put you through over the years, free to lead your life without him.

There came a time when Thor had been down in the dumps, drinking & wasting his life away, you received a call from Brunnhilde from New Asgard, asking for help.

As heart-broken as you were, there was still a part of you that cared about Thor, the part that loved him without knowing his whereabouts before the call, the part that made your hopeless heart beat a little faster every time there was some news regarding your fellow Avengers, or a knock on your door. That part in you made you book a plane ticket to Norway in search of your Thunder God.

New Asgard was beautiful, brave Asgardians had rebuilt their lives after losing their home planet. Upon meeting Valkyrie, you learnt that there was a brawl in the local pub initiated by none other than the person who’d come looking for. The damage was severe given the reason for the fight. He’d been denied more alcohol that led to several tables being destroyed and the owner of the pub sporting several bruises to his face.

“He’s not our King, not anymore.”

“That man has lost his way, who wants that in a leader?”

The Asgardians held more anger towards their King that you’d ever known. You understood their side, you did but, you also knew what made him act the way he did. And you had made up your mind to fix it.

The walk to Thor’s cottage was short, the door was left ajar & your nostrils were filled with a stench of old beer and something vile as you entered.

The place was a mess to say the least, old take-out boxes strewn about, clothes and shoes that hid furniture pieces under them, the Stormbreaker resting against the fireplace. There was a groan from upstairs indicating the location of the Asgardian God.

“Are you here with my barrels?” He called out, speech slurred and muffled as it reached you.

“No actually I’m here to restore a former King who has lost his way.”

Your voice made him freeze, he hadn’t heard you in two years, a voice that once filled his heart with joy and love, and the face that once made him so happy. As you pushed the bedroom door open, you saw his eyes meet yours for a second before he turned away to stare out the window.

“Why are you here? I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”

It broke your heart to see his eyes not light up the way they used to upon seeing you, it pained you that he didn’t reach to pull you in his arms and spin you around like he used to.

“I think you do. The old Thor would be delighted to see me, he would make sure the world would melt away when he’d kiss me, the old Thor w—”

“The old Thor is dead. If you came looking for him, I’m sorry but he is long gone.” He replied harshly, still not facing you as he shoulders sagged and you heard him sniffle after some moments of silence.

You stepped closer and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder coaxing him to look at you. He moved but his eyes were downcast before you grabbed his face in your hands and were met with his mismatched eyes swimming with unshed tears, once well groomed face now a scruffy mess of overgrown beard and unkempt blonde locks.

“Don’t you ever tell me that the old Thor is dead. I know he’s still in there, he’s just hiding beneath this defensive, hurt, slightly sloppy exterior.”

He gave you a watery chuckle, before wiping his nose on the sleeve of his sweater. You took his hand and led him to the bathroom where you began filling water in the bathtub.

“I have missed you (Y/N).” Thor spoke as followed you back out where you removed your jacket.

“I know.” You nodded towards his bedside table that held a picture of you and him taken by Natasha back at the compound when you had fallen asleep on top of him after a mission on the couch. You remembered wondering who had stolen your copy after you thought you misplaced it years ago.

Thor remained clothed as the water filled the tub, eyes downcast again.

“I’m not how I used to be.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

Giving him a reassuring smile, you helped him undress, noticing how self-conscious this man got. You thought of something he’d done when you had your moments of insecurity back when you started dating the Avenger.

Closing the bathroom door, you undressed as well, revealing your curves, battle scars and everything Thor was once so familiar with and had made you believe just how beautiful you were. Now it was your turn to do the same for him.

“What are you doing? Y-you don’t have to—”

“I’m reminding you how secure and loved you made me feel when I was having trouble believing it for myself.”

“You have always been beautiful to me. You always will be.” He said with such surety, almost proudly as if there wasn’t a breakup that had left you both miserable.

You made Thor sit in the tub with his head leaned back for you to clean and he obliged, holding onto your hand the entire time in case he’d been dreaming this entire time & that you would vanish into thin air.

A soft kiss to his forehead later you began working your fingers through his hair, trying to get all the accumulated dirt out. It wasn’t long before Thor’s breath became uneven and he held back tears once more.

“Thor it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ve let you down. I’ve let everyone down. I failed at protecting everyone from him.”

“You didn’t fail Thor and you certainly didn’t let anyone down. You’ve lost more than any one of us can ever imagine, you were grieving. You are allowed to grieve. You know what this means. You’re just like the rest of us.”

“But I’m not supposed to be like the rest of you.” He sniffed, holding onto your arms as dry heaves racked his large frame.

“Everyone fails at who they’re supposed to be Thor. It’s okay to mourn, it’s not okay to let yourself be lost in that feeling forever. You lost all of your family but you kept fighting didn’t you? Well the fight’s not over just because he won. We fight everyday, some days harder than others, no matter how difficult it may seem because we owe it to the people we lost.”

You kept rubbing his back while he calmed down, pressing as many kisses to the side of head as you could given the awkward position you were in.

“You were my family (Y/N) and I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve it a-and I’m so so—”

“I don’t blame you, I never did. I still love you Thor, very much. Nothing will ever change that.” You smiled, touching your forehead to his.

“I love you too my beautiful dove.”

He pressed his lips to yours, the kiss a little different from the ones you were used to. He tasted of beer but it didn’t matter, it was still your beloved God of Thunder. The kiss turned hungry when his hands went to the back of your neck to pull you closer while the other went around your naked back, coaxing you into the tub.

Water splashed about and spilled over as you stepped in, straddling his lap before resuming, this time your tongue ran along his bristly lip, biting softly, relishing in the feeling of him again after such a long time.

Thor moved on to pepper your jaw and neck with hurried kisses while his hands roamed over your body, having missed feeling your skin against his, the way your body moulded perfectly against him. He had missed the way you shuddered as his teeth grazed the junction between your neck and shoulder, the way you moaned when he marked a spot there, claiming you as his. He missed the way your breasts felt against his palm, the way your nipples hardened under his touch.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Thor mumbled between wet kisses against your chest while you pushed his face closer with your hands, wanting to feel as much of him as possible against your skin, a loud gasp emitting from your lips when he rolled his tongue around your nipple before sucking.

Your hips slid against his crotch, desperate for more friction, his shaft rubbing against your folds earning a groan from Thor who suddenly moved your hips, angling you to hover over his erect cock before slowly letting you sink down on him.

The stretch stung a little given how long it had been, though your warmth welcomed him as you held him close, that familiar feeling of being one with Thor returning after a long gap. He buried his face in your neck, soft hands holding your back securely, leaving no space between your bodies as the only sound echoed in the room was of warm water lapping against the sides of the tub and your mingled breaths.

“My love...”

“I’m here.”

You rolled your hips slowly, savouring the feeling of him snug inside you before the need to chase your releases became vital and you both moved in tandem before your end washed over, leaving you writhing in pleasure in Thor’s arms while he held you. Your orgasm triggered his own as he grabbed your hips and began thrusting into you, sending new waves of pleasure coursing through your system.

A few moments after returning to your senses, you realised the water had gone cold & it was time to get out before your skin started pruning but neither of you made any effort of doing so.

“Thank you love.”

“For what?”

“Saving me.”

“You would’ve done it for me.”

“We have to get out some time you know.” You chuckled, lazily drawing patterns on his soft back while he placed kisses repeatedly on your shoulder.

“I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

#thor odinson x reader #thor odinson smut #chubby thor #post endgame #thor fanfiction #thor x y/n #thor angst #thor odinson #thor odinson oneshot #marvel fanfiction #thor mcu #thor odinson fanfiction

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haileygarciasunshine · 3 years

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Contradiction

Percy Jackson x Avengers Cross Over

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Written: February 22nd, 2021

Posted: February 22nd, 2021

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,294

Enemies to Friends to Lovers Trope.

Author’s Note: Yes, I know the youngest age of the Camp Half-Blood campers, but for sake of my work I lowered it. I also know the restriction of crossing into camp. It’s all for the sake of piece.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you had narrowly blocked another one of Percy’s blows. The thought of mistakenly asking him to train you flashed into your mind.

Wheezing, you placed your hands on your knees as you bent at the waist in an attempt to catch your breath.

“Having trouble keeping up, Y/L/N?” Percy teased flashing you his white teeth.

Snorting, you picked up your sword before swinging it in his direction. “Not a chance.”

The scorching summer sun, beat down on you the more you trained, while beads of sweat raced down your face soaking the neckline trickling down your back.

Once Percy had deemed you had enough training, you hurriedly made your way to the showers. The feeling of excitement washing over you as you thought about a cold shower.

---

After dinner, Grove found you and convinced you to sneak away with your group of friends to a local bookstore, in the city.

As soon as you entered the store, there was a small ring of a bell that echoed off the walls. Glancing up, you made a mental note of how long it had been since you had last been in a store that had a real bell above the door.

“Welcome.” One of the cashiers greeted barely glancing up from her register, locking eyes with your small group.

“Thanks,” Grover smirked, nodding his head at her. In a mere matter of seconds, the cashiers' giggles filled the shop, as Grover flirted with her.

Turning your attention back to your friends, you let out a sigh as they were nowhere to be seen. Knowing Annabeth, she had probably dragged Percy towards her favorite section of books, piling them in his arms.

Shaking your head, you glanced around before venturing up the spiral stairs to the second level of the book store. The second level was perfect for customers to gaze out of the second-story windows, as well as having a more peaceful reading experience in the store. Oversized chairs and coffee tables were littered around the level.

Letting out a comfortable sigh, you began venturing down the isles in search of some undiscovered treasures of yours. Finding an area, you began plucking books out one by one as you read their synopsis.

Once you had felt content with your book selection, you searched for the nearest chair before you burrowed yourself as best as you could into it. Picking up one of the books, you began reading it as you awaited one of your friends to come and alert you they were ready to get going.

“Figured I could find you here.” A familiar voice spoke wearily.

Not wanting to look up, you didn’t want your calming state to be interrupted.

“Can we sit?”

His question catching you off guard. Finally raising your eyes from the text, you gazed over the edge of the book, locking Y/E/C with Steve’s icy ones.

“This is Bucky.” He spoke motioning towards the lengthy built man. His hair loosely framing his face. “Buck this is Y/N,” Steve smirked as he gazed between his two friends.

Closing the book, you placed it on top of the pile of books you had placed on the table. Standing up, you extended your hand towards the brunette.

Bucky gazed at you, ignoring your hand with a scoff. “I’m going to go find a book.” He grumbled, removing himself from the small gathering.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, he’s not normally like this.”

You let out an unconvinced hum. “Right...Well, what can I do ya for?”

Letting out a chuckle, he maneuvered to occupy one of the chairs in front of you. “I... We actually need your help.”

Furrowing your eyebrows together in confusion, you glanced in the direction Bucky had left. “We?”

“The Avengers.”

---

"Y/N, you made it!” Tony exclaimed rushing towards you as he pulled you in for a hug.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he lifted you off the ground. The sound of your giggles bouncing off the walls.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” Tony muttered into your hair.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky sounded from behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t bother turning to face him.

“You know, if you keep rolling your eyes they’re going to get stuck.”

Scoffing you shook your head. “Whatever you say, gramps.”

“Guys, can you please behave for this meeting,” Steve asked his voice making it clear he was already feeling agitated.

Keeping your comments to yourself, you nodded your head before taking a spot between Tony and Bruce at the conference table. While Bucky sat directly across from you.

As Steve spoke, you felt your mind wandering to other places as well as feeling antsy. Every so often, you would adjust to a different position on your chair, while letting out a sigh.

Moving to adjust once more, you felt a sting in your leg as someone had kicked you. Frowning, you made the mistake of looking at Bucky. A devilish smirk was drawn on his lips. Narrowing your eyes, you sent him a glare. Silently encouraging him to keep up his actions.

“Now, for those of you who aren’t aware, I would like to introduce our friend, Y/N,” Steve spoke motioning towards you, as claps from the table sounded. “She is a Demi-God-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N’s a what?” Bucky screeched, holding a hand up stopping Steve in his tracks.

Whipping your head in his direction, your heart began pounding out of your chest, as you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“Demi-God?” Bucky questioned his voice dripping like venom. Crossing his arms along his chest, he leaned back in his chair shooting daggers at you.

“As is Half-God and Half-Mortal..” Steve spoke hoping to calm Bucky. “Or in Y/N’s case. Half-Goddess.”

“Half?” Bucky snorted. “Why do we need a Half-Goddess when we have a full God.” He spat raising a challenging eyebrow in your direction. “What can a half anything offer us?”

Tears had snuck out the corners of your eyes as you let out a quiet sob. Bucky wasn’t the first to make you feel as if you weren’t good enough as a Demi-God, but his did hurt the most.

Standing up promptly from the table, you rushed out of the room not listening to the disembodied voices call out to you.

“Way to go, Manchurian Candidate.” Tony spat while glaring at Bucky.

---

Sometime the ill-fated meeting, Steve had unsuccessfully attempted to get into contact with you and apologize.

“What are we doing here?” Bucky questioned his voice naturally coming out hostile.

“We’re here so you,” Steve glared at him. “Can apologize to Y/N.”

Sam snorted. “Man, I still can’t believe you managed to offend a Goddess.”

“Half-Goddess.” Bucky sighed in correction.

“Half-Goddess, Full-Goddess, what’s the difference?” Sam questioned rolling his eyes.

“Well her abilities-”

Sam quickly cut off Bucky. “What does it matter to you anyways, Barnes? You’re Half-Cyborg.”

Tony let out a bellowing laugh, clapping Sam on the back in approval before Steve let out softer belts of laughter. While Bucky muttered under his breath about his hate for Sam.

“You’re just mean to her because you like her,” Sam spoke.

“I do not!” Bucky defended.

“Face it, Barnes, you can’t help but be attracted to powerful independent women.” Sam shrugged. “Let’s look at Natasha for instance. How long did it take for you to get over her?”

“We are not, talking about my love life.” Bucky snarled.

“Easy there Cyborg.” Sam held his hands up in defense. “I was just trying to help you out.”

The small group ventured through the forest. Seeing the arc the four men passed underneath making their way into Camp Half-Blood.

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cpelise · 3 years

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Headcanons on Tobirama and why I write him the way I do:

Allow me to first and foremost emphasize the word headcanon(s), before proceeding. I’ve written this out to essentially explain how I personally view Tobirama, why I write him the way I do for a series of fanfics I recently posted to AO3, and may potentially continue to write :3

With that being said~

When he was younger I feel that he had to put on a strong face for his brothers. He felt the need to protect and shield them from his father’s hard training and abuse. He observed the world around him and approached everything matter of factually not just for them, but for himself, to accept the reality that they were stuck in, as a way of coping.

As he grows into a teen-young adult, he becomes even more serious with training and his curiosity heightens for learning new techniques to further his skills. He does so to keep his only remaining brother safe and to keep their mutual dream alive. I headcanon that he trains with Hashirama often so that they both can keep their skills at their peak. When he can’t train with Hashirama because he’s training elsewhere (sage training for example), he dives into reading and studying, he trains himself harder in suiton, he trains with other clan members, or this is where the -insert fanfic opportunity- to visit a potential S/O comes in.

No, I don’t think all of his time is spent training. Him and Hashirama have other duties to attend to too- mainly politics and chores; providing resources for meals (Tobirama would excel at fishing and enjoy it), shopping at local populated towns or areas for other groceries and supplies, attending meetings with other clans regarding anything from illnesses the Senju could help with- to escorting clans, people with power, notable figures, or others, etc. Later on this knowledge and experience would provide handy for them in the founding of Konohagakure and bringing clans together, imo.

Around age 24, the time of Izuna’s death, he’s visibly shown in a clan battle scene fighting for his life. You can see the expression written clearly on his face that he’s irritated of this clan war; he wants it to be over with. The peaceful future his brother and he desires for, can never become a reality as long as this clan war continues.

Around 25-26 Konohagakure is founded.

Around 31 he creates the Ninja Training Institution that later becomes known as the Ninja Academy.

Around 34 he becomes his team’s Sensei.

Around 40 he becomes Nidaime Hokage, creates the Konoha Police, and later that year- is killed by the Kinkaku Force.

^ 24-40 age bracket are more fact-type timeline things than they are headcanons, but they’re relevant.

Time/Type:

Frankly the timeline is probably the only solid information here, as my headcanons are simply that- headcanons. Sorry admirers; he’s probably not looking for any potential love interests until after the clan war with the Uchiha is over- that’s my personal headcanon and that’s one of the reasons why I wrote my fanfics with my Original Character the way that I did. I insert as much freedom into this man’s life as I could for an S/O, but his life is overwhelming and chaotic. Not saying don’t do it or don’t try it. ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way.’ This man is 100% worth it.

I imagine this man as Demi- he’s not going to fall for you unless he knows you on a deeply personal level. He needs to trust you, and that’s something that requires building.

For his Persona:

It’s fanon- (I doubt it’s established canon, because manually who’s counting this?) that we’ve seen over 5,000 jutsu in the combined Naruto/Shippuden series, and Tobirama is responsible for inventing more than 3,500 of those.

To create so many in such a small lifespan, you’ve got to spend all of your time solely dedicated to the cause. But he has a clan to defend, eventually has Konohagakure to help establish, has missions to run, he has a team to mentor, he eventually becomes Nidaime Hokage. And without a doubt it helps that he develops shadow clones (kage bunshin no jutsu) to help with this later down the line.

The man likely uses all of his spare time pouring into the task, and forces himself to sleep. But when he finally lays his head down to rest- his mind is still left brainstorming and racing through copious amounts of information. That’s where I headcanon him the way that I do.

When he’s first introduced during the chūnin exams, he’s not exactly thrilled with the situation but he’s shown smiling quite a bit. You can tell he enjoys battle to some extent. In my view it’s also a level of coping (or denial). Being so used to something negative, or painful, to such a degree that you let it wash over you, shrug everything off, and smile or laugh about it. I see it a lot irl. A lot of successful functioning adults carry on with this attitude.

Towards the end he tells Sarutobi that he’s sorry for causing him trouble- those words in itself hold a lot of gravity, imo. He’s taking in accountability for the forbidden technique (kinjutsu: edo tensei) and the domino effect that it has caused his former student.

In a filler episode he’s shown again helping the ‘Eternal Genin’, Kosuke Maruboshi. This time his attitude is a little more serious, but it’s still helpful and reaching. He desires to teach Kosuke skills to defend himself. ‘Give a man fish, it feeds him for a day. Teach a man to fish, it feeds him for a lifetime.’

In the Fourth Shinobi War Arc, he appears again- this time he appears a bit more aged than the first time he was summoned via Edo Tensei, and this time his mannerisms and persona seem more mature. It’s stated that he was summoned differently from the first time, so it only makes sense. Orochimaru also doesn’t blank out his personality this time around. He has more freedom to function and operate- to be himself.

What’s notable to me is how he interacts with everyone around him. He still interacts with his Brother as was shown in the flashbacks. He interacts with Minato and Naruto in a somewhat easy-going and friendly manner. I.e. they mesh well and can read each other’s abilities without having been acquainted long, and Naruto slowly frustrates him with a shadow clone jutsu explanation, lol.

He listens to Sasuke and his team to receive the full details of the situation, though desiring to make haste to the battlefield. He doesn’t have much choice and his brother makes a final call. Another +point to the ‘respects his brother’ tally card.

To me these scenes tell me that his morals are high, his need to set things ‘right’ are high. That he holds high respect for his brother, and that he has the capacity to evaluate the details of a situation and explain at length to others information they require.

Later there are several other scenes where we catch sight of him, and he’s again: smiling, or he has a grin, in most.

I’d describe him as sassy, he’s got that in spades. He’ll be the first one to call you out on any mistakes, or make a blunt assessment of the situation. Meaning he’s vocal. One of the opposite traits of ‘stoic’ (I’m tired of seeing this word being used to describe him). I’d also describe him as observant, and takes the situation for the seriousness it deserves.

When it comes to battle, sparring, or anything competitive like, he is seen to have moments of pleasure on the battlefield- he is caught with those smiles or grins. Be them from amusement, contentment, out of sass, feeling confident- they are most certainly there. And that is where I choose to write him. I will take that leap and write him playful and smiley any day of the week.

And don’t let that handsome smile fool you. He’s still cunningly brilliant, and quick, with shadow clones! He’ll catch you when you least expect it- now that’s canon. Madara said it himself in the anime.

Welcome to my Naruto-verse. And my Tobirama Headcanons \o/

Extra tidbit of Into:

In a databook it’s mentioned that his favourite words were "Mind, technique, body" (心・技・体, Shin - gi - tai).

>>>

I want to delve into this a smidge. More headcanons btw. He may have picked this up over time after studying through so much information, or maybe it was inspired by his Brother and the sage training he went through- perhaps it’s an accumulation of both. The fact that he aligned the three to begin-with signifies awareness, imo.

He’s aware when his body doesn’t have the right nutrients or isn’t properly fed- that he’s going to be subpar on the battlefield (applies to everyday activities as well).

He’s aware if he doesn’t have the right amount of sleep, when something has his head space distracted- that his thoughts are going to drift elsewhere and he’s going to be subpar on the battlefield (applies to everyday activities as well).

He’s aware if his abilities, skill, or knowledge in an area is mediocre or weak, that he’s going to be subpar or not as effective as he could be on the battlefield, potentially even a risk. And in a political environment, it could lose the trust and cooperation of peers or others.

I think he attempts his best to take care of himself to maintain that order of ‘mind, technique, body’, and to be as effective as he can for the sake of those around him; he just may fail at it sometimes with his lifestyle.

Sources:

Timeline (fandom), https://naruto.fandom.com/wiki/User:Seelentau/Naruto_Timeline

Jutsu Creation (fandom), https://www.quora.com/How-did-the-Hokages-die

Anime (personal perception); I created a collage of screenshot some time back specifically for this (and then completely forgot to add an important scene and omitted several similar-in appearance scenes). I’m going to add that collage again (with minor edits). This collage helps to display the foundation of my thought process for Tobirama's behavior and mannerisms:

Extra Nonsense:

Repeating myself a bit; I’m not trying to start a war or begin a debate with all this *gestures to all of the above*. I just wanted to explain why I wrote Tobirama the way that I did in my Tobirama x OC fanfics before I was piled with a bunch of questions regarding it. Not that I dislike questions! This is just easier- to explain it all, in its entirety, all at once. Honestly I don’t think anyone will care enough to read the fanfics in the first place, lol. Regardless, here~ have my Tobirama headcanons~! x3

And I don’t know if it’s obvious, but I’ve been trying to repeat and emphasize the word ‘headcanon’ a dozen times. 95% of this, if not more, are headcanonssssss~

#tobirama #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #tobirama headcanons #hey~ something in here looks familiar right~? /winkwink #it's been a while! \o/#please do NOT ignore the extra nonsense section- for the love of Gods #it explains why I wrote this entire thing v_v #I don't wanna tag this man's name more than I have to... only doing this for fanfic purposes as it is...#also- I didn't add this into the body of the post but I DO picture Tobi as protective towards an S/O partner (borderline overprotective)?#I also picture him as warm and gentle- but often times his mind is elsewhere (with work and missions etc)#I add those into tags because they too are headcanons and this post was meant to be an attachment to my fanfic (not a standalone post)#However it's fine to be taken either way x3

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creativerogues · 3 years

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Discord Highlights #4: Green Lands Far & New...

After the last instalment of highlights, a lot has happened, from negotiating with immortal Death Knights to winning big in a Feywild fighting pit, to now wanting to talk to the Queen of the Feywild herself, so let’s get into some explanations, shall we?

Shattered Souls: Bustin’ Heads & Winning Big!

After arriving in the Feywild a few sessions ago, the Party gathered and discovered that the famed Cultist of the Red Star that they had been hunting down was working in the Feywild Fighting Pits of the Starlight City, and after pulling off a few displays of daring dauntlessness, the Party challenged the Gladiator himself, going by the title of “The White Ram” due to his albino tiefling skin, to a Fighting Match on the Day of Mid-Summer, when Lady Shandria, Leader of the Starlight City and Niece to the Queen of the Feywild, could observe their fight.

Following some more preparations and a few bets made of the Party’s behalf, Ibernia, a Former Champion of the Fighting Pits and Monk of the Astral Self, stepped forward to duel The White Ram, but quickly fell to his blade...

That is until Blanche, the Sorcerer and Warlock of the Group, abused her knowledge of The White Ram’s True Name to rack his mind with psychic pain, allowing Ibernia to recover from her near lethal injuries (thanks to a Natural 20 on a Death Check) and rise up after nearly being bisected horizontally, now able to turn the pretty face of The White Ram into a bloody caved-in mess of broken bones.

Now, with their fight won and their spoils of war received (as well as a few tens of thousands of Gold Pieces in bets), the Party finds out that Blanche requires the body of The White Ram in order to complete a sinister deal she made with “An Old Swamp Witch”, who just happens to go by the name Baba Yaga.

What does Baba Yaga have in store for Blanche, how will the Party cross a Feywild Swamp the size of a small sea to find this ‘Old Witch’, and how will they leave the Feywild if they don’t even know how they entered?

Looks like the only way to find out is to listen to Shattered Souls Live in our D&D Discord Server…

Heaven & Hel: Making Friends & Crossing Planes...

When we last left our heroes, they were floating around in the Astral Sea looking for a Lost Library, carved from the skull of a long dead goddess.

Well, as it turns out, they found it!

And after completing their travels through the Astral Plane, and managing to find a Colour Pool back home, the Party quickly realised they needed some rest and relaxation, as their time away from the Material Plane quickly caught up with them as soon as they arrived back, causing the Party to gain a whole 5 Level of Exhaustion (let’s just thank them for not staying in the Astral Sea any longer...)

But after a short amount of Downtime and rest, the Party had finally awoken in their forest camp outside of the small forest town of Thanlo, feeling refreshed and rid of their Exhaustion.

And so, after recovering from their time away catching up with them, the Party now plans to investigate the local ruined Farmhouses and Mill to the north of Town, with the hopes of finding a Fey Crossing into the Feywild, so that Maltuul, the Elven Wizard of the Party who has been trying to convince the World that the Prophecy of Ragnarok (Known also as “The Old Apocalypse”) is real, may cross over into the Feywild and convince The Summer Court of his Homeland to aid him in his Quest to halt Ragnarok.

Will Maltuul and the Party be able to convince the many Archfey of The Summer Court to aid them in their time of need, or are these Demi-God like powers a-ok with the destruction of the Material Plane?

Looks like the only way to find out is to listen to Heaven & Hel as it happens, Live in our D&D Discord Server!

Debt & Darkness: Welcome to the Jungle...

After exploring the many rooms of the Demi-Plane Donjon of Tulkaz the Lich’s Astral Dreadnought, and dealing with its many traps and dangers therein, the Party discovered a Concealed Room within the Donjon, finding within a Grey Gateway into the Ethereal Plane.

With some hesitation, the Party entered and fought off a few denizens, before finding the forgotten mass of bones described in Tulkaz’s notes.

Following a few conversations with the denizens of the town’s twisting necropolis, the Group was directed to a Man known as "Lord Ran", an undying Death Knight who spoke to them of his life in Tulkaz's service, and how the Key to The Second Ward of Tulkaz was magically tethered to his Life Force, and his Body bound to the town itself.

However, after a flash of genius and some quickly planning, the Party was able to use Tulkaz's own magical Wards against him, as they brought the floating Grey Gateway of Tulkaz's Astral Dreadnought into the civilization known as Bonetown and convinced Lord Ran to step through, where upon his first steps into the Aura of Anti-Magic that surrounded The Second Ward, the necromantic energies that sustained him were stripped away, leaving only a corpse that crumpled to the floor, while also rendering Tulkaz’s Puzzle Box nothing more than a piece of mundane wood, which was then broken open to reveal a serrated Key.

This is honesty one of the proudest and funniest moments there’s been in the Campaign so far, as absolutely zero Party Members wanted to fight Lord Ran, a CR 19 Death Knight, and so had to “Get Creative!” to find a way of getting the Key from him without fighting him...

Using this Key, the Party was able to open The Metal Door that was The Second Ward of Tulkaz, where they found an empty space beyond, with a single pink jewel suspended in place.

Carina, being the bold scientist of the Group and willing to test her hypothesis, touched the pink gemstone and was scattered into a Pocket Dimension, as she was then shortly followed by Innocence, as they both found themselves falling into a deep blue ocean.

And so, after a brief stint of panic from falling into the ocean, Carina and Innocence swam to the shore of this otherworldly jungle, arriving on the beaches of an Otherworldly Isle in the middle of a vast blue expanse, where they now hope to navigate the new place they find themselves in, still on the hunt for Tulkaz’s Hidden Phylactery.

Like The Highlights? Join The Server!

Do you like what you see? Want some more context on the Party’s shenanigans or an end to those massive cliff-hangers?

Well come on down and enjoy the Games as they happen by joining the Official CreativeRogues Discord Server, and perhaps even join or create your own Games!

You can join the Server as a New Member right now by using our Link: Right Here!

#creativerogues #dnd #DnD 5e #dnd 5e homebrew #dnd 5e campaign #discord #discord d&d #Highlights #community #dnd community

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