#there is no world in which things are settled completely peacefully

[strawbubbysugar]

It’s so upsetting that if only Moon didn’t go with Sun, or Sun never went to the cave, or if that damn nasty ass rabbit didn’t do anything an was actually a normal not evil rat, things would have gone according to plan, and no one would have to deal with all the conflicts coming off of the incident

Oh believe me there would still be conflict, just a different flavour.

#ask #bethroned #bethroned spoilers #there is no world in which things are settled completely peacefully #would’ve been more of a political intrigue vibe if moon had been the one you married tho #rather than murder mystery

[alessabriel]

polaroid love.

Summary: When she called his name it made his heart race.

Cw. flulff, soft.

He had never been a fan of photos, eventually and his arrival in Gotham under the care of his father had learned to hate them by the detestable press that seemed not to have much more chaos to cover. He hated the photos, he didn't like them and when he appeared in them he looked so tense that his family learned the hard ones that he didn't like them.

That was until you came into his life, a flash in purple tones from cold to warm that hit him squarely in the face blinding him.

You were a brilliant person without trying and you lit up every damn room with your mere presence without counting on the trail of magic that danced around you as if it protected you, with your sweet and melodious voice you broke the silence around him and he loved it in a thousand possible ways and he felt lucky when you said his name,  with so much love and adoration that you caused his heartbeat to go completely crazy, as if the organ wanted to leave his chest and settle on your bare hands. It was a bloody, romantic metaphor you had said once, that time when you created a pendant out of thin air to wear around your neck and never take it off.

And so, with your arrival he began to take a liking to photos of any kind from the casual ones in which he caught you off guard leaving your pristine beauty exposed, the formal ones in which you wore the gala uniform of your private school (specialized in magic and even more private than his) or dresses to match their costumes when they could not escape the galas,  those where he could catch you sleeping peacefully on his chest or shoulder, when they came out in pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror with their faces still sleepy but he could not help but smile and those that made a special place in his memory; in which you went out with Titus on your lap, his great companion saw you with dreamy eyes as if you were some kind of goddess in his eyes (he believed the same) and those where Alfred his little sloe companion became putty on your body snuggling between your arms or on your chest. Those photos were polaroid and he kept them in his purse suspiciously, another pair well hidden in his private locker in the cave. He also began to like going out with you in selfies either in which he partially saw their faces, with silly filters (because in what world did you, the most divine being on this earth need a filter? I didn't understand, but it made you laugh and I was happy) or in which you always sealed your smooth lips on his cheek with your eyes always closed and he with a serious face or an attempt at it.

It was easy to start loving the photos where you went out because you were her beloved, the sun that her moon needed, the breath of fresh air on a hot day, the drizzle in a desert and the complement she did not know she needed in her life. The part of an equation sought, the longed-for inspiration and its eternal muse. Loving you had been so difficult at first, but you made your way through his heart like a warrior, you crossed his barriers and you took him out to live his life without the interference of others, you taught him many things; Learning that being wrong was okay, that it was part of being human his feelings and that it was not wrong to feel it, that he deserved love, tenderness and care.

You deserve to be yourself and be loved with the intensity of a thousand suns, and if you allow me I want to be the one who loves you Damian.

Those words still comfort him in those days when everything lacerated him, and his mind reproduced them until he slept, because he would never tire of remembering them.

Damian had read a lot as a child because it was the only way to approach a normality shown in books, one that he longed for, but did not know, and in those days that his psyche still kept hidden he remembered reading romantic books where the protagonists loved each other with everything and mistakes, with darkness, with defects and with hands full of blood.  even with his back loaded with thousands of ghosts from the past. Books where love never won, but never stopped fighting for a single opportunity.

They were certainly tragic books, yes, but they showed how much the characters loved each other.

And he knew that he wanted to be by your side years ago, when the uneasiness of not being loved as he wished for his parents was still fresh in his heart (father minimized him to just a tantrum child and his mother knew she would throw him under a train if he gained power with it), when with the damn sword of Deathstroke lodged in his chest and feeling himself lower by his own weight on the edge,  when I look at you he has the means of falling and unconsciousness; boiling in such a horrendous wake of magic that it suddenly advanced until it flooded the whole place and swallowed the mercenary whole. He never knew how he got to the ground or how you pulled out the sword, but he does remember your warmly cold hands on the hole left by the sword and the boiling sensation of tears falling on his skin like a strange sensation running through him whole. You whispered in another language that I did not identify, but distinguished supplications.

Don't take my best friend, please.

No one could know how you saved his life when his death was assured by the severity of his injuries, but no one got answers. You always deflected the subject by being annoying, talking like a chatter about your cartoons that you loved to watch until you got fed up with anyone who asked you, except him, and I always got the same answer –someday I could tell you Dami, but not today, please– and I respect that, even when I was 11 years old and longed to know.

Now today everything was complex, but at the same time easy, he learned a lot by your side. I felt like you always added to him, never subtracted from him. That feeling made him tremble from head to toe despite the assassin training that he took all his life, you simply made that old-fashioned feeling completely envelop his heart by removing any filter from his system, he could not retain the love he felt, nor the absolute and unconscious adoration he professed when he kept his gaze fixed on your figure taking care of your micro expressions and gestures,  In search of some discomfort or discomfort to help you, because every move he learned over years and never realized until he knew he was completely and madly in love with you.

He knew about your overflowing powers, how magic absolutely adored you, and how you understood it even more than your mother or grandfather. You were a being full of magic, in every aspect.

I knew that loud noises stunned you in an uncomfortable way, you didn't enjoy arguments, and you usually tended to be silent out of nowhere because they got lost, but you came back to yourself to continue any conversation.

He knew that you completely detested paperback books with very loaded or tasteless designs, he could reproduce in his memory your complaints about new books, the same complaints that he would listen carefully to protect the information.

Since they were friends I knew that you really disliked completely that your mother intervened in your training or missions, because from the beginning she abandoned you with Constantine (who surprisingly was a good father, somewhat absent but good) and therefore you had a tense relationship with her.

He always had in mind that you were cold and carried a jacket (his and even with traces of his cologne because he knew you loved it) in the back of his car.

Really everything he learned from you was almost by inertia, you were always attentive to him in many aspects which he loved, because nobody had taken the trouble to know all his preferences; From food to clothes, how he liked certain products over others, how he was constantly bored and carried a small book of artwork in your bag or car for him, how he sometimes worried because he could not let his guard down until your magic in the form of soft mist settled on the inside of his arm giving him comfort.

They were a litany of things they learned from each other.

Damian knew that with you in his life he opened up to new things, that having your hand holding his tightly there would be nothing he feared.

A semi-empty fair was one of the last places their families would look for them, both did not like those types of places at all. The perfect choice.

"Hurry up Mian!" you said with emotion, pulling the Wayne boy out of his dazed state.

With a soft snort without ulterior motives the tallest followed your light trot towards a photo booth crudely decorated with fair colors, but it had a certain gloomy charm for the old and once in front of it was nothing to take out your wallet you were faster paying and smiling shamelessly for it.

"I invited you to this date pretty boy, so I pay" you commented triumphantly before removing the curtain to give him access first "You First"

Damian could only smile at your tender antics and entered first without wasting time pulling you inside, there was a padded seat where he sat and pulled you into his lap, they could both see the options and after a little talk they opted for a simple polaroid that would give them two. He kept his gaze on the countdown and without a word took you by the cheeks with utmost care and kissed you, savoring the light, velvety texture of your lipstick against his own lips in every uncalculated move, and viciously swallowed your needy little gasp.

"Mian" you sighed dreamily when the kiss ended, your hands trembled on the fabric of his shirt and you looked with a smile as your boyfriend's lips looked reddish.

"Beloved" replied softly the tallest without avoiding kissing your sweet smile.

Between laughter and stolen kisses they left the photo booth, with a polaroid in hands.

Damian considered that you not only took a copy of the polaroid in your hands but his heart in your hands.

#dc x fem reader #damian al ghul x reader fem #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader fem #dc x reader fem

[saigawrites]

"The moon sent you to me."

In which, you get isekaed to genshin, and a certain character comes to your rescue!

Platonic! Wanderer x reader

Tags : fluff, angst (if you squint), comfort, just basic kind feelings.

Warnings : mentions of abandonment, trauma.

Part two part three

Sweet hums and light breathes escaped your form as you napped peacefully. The dreamworld was embracing you tight in it's hands, not even thinking of letting go. That is, until a certain feeling deep down in your pit yelled at you to stand up. Something was quite out of the norm, but you couldn't guess what with your eyes closed. So, rubbing around the area of your eye sockets, you, slowly sitting up, blindly touched the ground and realized you weren't at home.

You worriedly shot your eyelids open. All that you could see around was abruptly unrealistic graphics of nature. Something that you would probably see in a video game. Video game... Hey. This is kinda familiar. Where have you seen this type of textures?... You got into a video game? How is this even possible? Too many questions have flooded your mind. Such a stressful situation and environment that you just simply can't comprehend any of this.

Another thing that you noticed here was that you still looked how you used to look. In simple terms, you were realistic, while the area around you was drawn-like. You felt numb and completely disoriented inside. The frustration of this setting was boiling up even higher. Great, now you might get killed for your looks. Because you don't really think video game characters could handle a creature with that level of detail.

Letting some stress and cries of despair outside was soothing enough for you to now stand up and pull your shit together. It's not like you're going to just die here, right now. No, you have to fight. You have to survive. So, you decided to explore the area a bit, gaze at the colourful leaves of the blurry trees and bushes. Carefully, step by step, you studied the environment up n down, and now were fully ready to go even deeper into the forest you thought would lead you somewhere.

Walking forward in the greenery, you noticed little details that indicated even more that you were in an imaginary world. Unrecognizable, extremely bright fruits and vegetables were growing and sprouting all over the place. Cutesy, simplified, plush-like animals were surrounding you, being way too friendly for an actual animal. You turned your head towards the direction you were going, distracting yourself from the little bird's affection.

The sound of slow, calm paced sea waves filled your ears. Your gaze fell on the round hole between the trees, where an astonishingly beautiful beach peeked out. The atmosphere of the water surface was tugging and pulling you in harshly, making you dazed in it's charms. Your body moved involuntarily, swiftly exiting the forestry to be met with the warm sand of the coast. You sat on the surface of the glowing yellow ground, bringing your knees close to your chest and hugging yourself tight.

The sight of the sky-blue water flowing back and forth made you feel an aching inside. You didn't feel comfortable wherever you were at all.

You missed your homeland.

The quiet sound of footsteps distracted you from your homesick daze. You flinched harshly, freezing in place as fight or flight syndrome settled within you. With your whole body sweating, you slowly turned your head in the direction the sound came from. Gulping a handful in your throat, you managed to get an appearance scan of the newcomer. White, blue and purple beamed in his color pallet, and ridiculously big and exaggeratedly complex clothing made your stare relevant on him.

The difference between you and him was indescribable. While he lacked basic textures, you were covered from head to toe in them. You didn't have that much of complicated clothing as he did, but you still looked way more full than he could ever. Though, he blended in the environment well, while you made an impression that you were a literal alien on this land. The expression on his face was one of a dazzled, beyond words confused and lost. He had to blink and even rub his eyes a bit to adjust to your picture.

You knew where you saw his familiar form from. The popular game in your world, Genshin Impact. You supposed he was named... Wanderer? Scara- Scarapooch? Scarasouche? Whatever his name was, it did fit with his appearance. With the realization you haven't felt a sense of relief, though. He was still dangerous, even if he is just a bunch of pixels. So, you were on alert if he decided to try anything.

Little did you know, the man in question didn't even form a thought of intending to inflict harm upon you. Even the opposite, he wanted to help you. The moment he saw your form sitting by the beach, the painfull memories of his past flooded his mind. He didn't know why you reminded him of him. Maybe because of the lost expression on your face? The surrendered sitting pose, showing vulnerability to the unfamiliar world around? The craving and desirous sad stare at the unwelcoming landscape in front?

Whatever it was, his inner urges didn't seem to care about those facts enough, as he rushed towards your direction with a worried expression. Seeing just how out of this place you were, he knew you would face the same treatment as he had. And he didn't want that. He didn't want anyone to go through the torture and the pain he experienced. He might seem uncaring and unbothered to some, but he is sure the antonyms of those terms regarding someone like you. Abandoned, lost, betrayed, thrown away after used.

He couldn't stand seeing yet another person turn out like him. In order to prevent that, he sat up on one of his knees and held out his hand for you. He wanted to save you. To see you grow happily and experience a healthy life. He simply smiled at you, with half closed eyes in a relaxed state. He didn't want to scare you away, how he seemed to do with others. He felt pity towards you, at how you raised your hands when he came close, at how you looked around unsure when he held out a hand for you to grab. His chest became warmer when you hesitantly took his hand.

No matter who you are, how you came here, he will make sure to give you a kind treatment, even if it required to lower his ego. He will make sure you are safe and sound in his arms, relaxed and pleased with your state.

Ahhhh, this was LONG, and I'm sorry 😭. Also sorry if the writing is too flowery, I'm too lazy at this point to edit it😶.

#genshin x reader fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #isekai #genshin isekai #genshin impact isekai #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #scaramouche x y/n

[zeke-in-devildom]

Dissonance - Chapter 8: The Witty Sorcerer

Zeke started exploring his new room as soon as Asmo left. There was a couch in front of a fairly large tv. The makeshift study had bookshelves and a tall wooden cabinet sat near his alchemy workstation. Apparently Barbatos had managed to bring all of his books here sometime between taking him from the human realm and Lucifer bringing him to the house. It wasn’t just his books lining the shelves, though. There were a couple of horror manga series that he didn’t recognize, as well as a book series called The Tale of Seven the Lords which he did know, because they sold it in his world too. Fantasy wasn’t his favorite genre, but he enjoyed this one. 

More interesting were the additional occult textbooks. He wondered who had set these out for him. It was impossible to resist flipping through a couple of them. Zeke spent hours studying intently. He had found his textbooks and class schedule set out on his desk. Undoubtedly he was terribly behind on all of these subjects compared to demons who had been attending RAD for years, so if he wanted to excel he had to be proactive. It didn’t hurt that it was all fascinating.

The hours ticked by all too quickly with him so engrossed in reading. Zeke didn’t look up again until the D.D.D on his nightstand started beeping annoyingly with his wake-up alarm - that he didn’t set. Lucifer probably did before even giving the thing to him. That seemed like a very Lucifer thing to do. How telling was it that he’d met the demon yesterday and already knew that was absolutely on point?

Either way he reluctantly gathered his textbooks and put them into a black leather messenger back that had been provided for him. The shower in his bathroom had amazing pressure, and he spent a few minutes more than necessary just enjoying the hot water. Out of the shower he dried and brushed his hair before going through the lengthy routine that Asmo had insisted on to take care of his skin. Amazingly the demon insisted that he’d given him a quick regimen compared to the Avatar of Lust’s own process. Even if it seemed like a pain he figured doing it was easier and faster than not doing it and having Asmo drag him back to his room to do it properly.

Besides, it was hard to argue with the results. His skin felt softer and looked clearer. The skin around his eyes wasn’t nearly as puffy as it had been, even the circles weren’t quite as dark. Still, there were shadows under his eyes, that was simply part of him at this point. He checked all of his piercings in the mirror, fiddling with the small silver hoops and black diamond studs. Satisfied with the way his appearance he headed into his closet.

Someone had left his uniform hanging in his closet, the fabrics meticulously ironed, he couldn’t see a single crease or wrinkle. Zeke wasn’t the biggest fan of uniforms, but it couldn’t be helped. This one reminded him vaguely of a military dress uniform. The metal adorned with the RAD insignia glinted as he settled it into place. He double checked to make sure everything was neatly in place and his light purple tie was completely straight before he could grab his bag and leave someone knocked at his door. They didn’t actually wait for him to answer though.

Asmo sauntered in, all bright smiles and jittery excitement. “Good morning darling! Excited for your first day?”

“Morning Asmo, yeah. Can’t wait.” Knowing that he’d be surrounded by demons all day was a bit disconcerting, Zeke had never intended to ever deal with demons, and now he lived with them and would be attending a school full of them. Still, that apprehension was the very reason he was here. Relations between the realms couldn’t improve unless they all learned to live together peacefully. He didn’t doubt all the warnings about demons he’d read in his occult books, but at least some demons were willing to try.

“Oh hon, you’re going to class like that?” Asmo was giving him an appraising look.

“What’s wrong with how I look?” Zeke frowned, looking down at himself. His uniform was on perfectly. He was sure of it.

“Nothing that I can’t fix, don't worry your pretty little head. I thought I might need to do some touch-ups for you this morning.” The Avatar of Lust took him by the hand and pulled him back into his bathroom. Zeke found himself unceremoniously pushed to sit on the edge of his bathtub while Asmo rummaged through his vanity drawers. “Ah-ha! This will do wonders, oooh, and this. We have to have you looking your best for your first day. Turn this way darling.”

Asmo had pulled out concealer and liquid eyeliner. Zeke didn’t wear makeup. He wasn’t opposed to it, but he was too lazy and didn’t care enough about his looks to bother. Since he didn’t have to do it himself Zeke shifted to face the demon, curious about how it would turn out. He had no doubt that Asmo would make him look good. That was a given. Still, he sat still and followed the avatar’s gentle directions.  It only took a few minutes.

“All done~” Asmo gently pulled Zeke back up to put him in front of the mirror so that he could admire the demon’s handiwork. “Aren’t I amazing?”

“Yeah you are.” Zeke had to admit that it looked nice. The shadows under his eyes were gone, and the black eye-liner really made the purple in his eyes pop. Now he was going to have to learn how to do that himself. No doubt Asmo would be teaching him all kinds of things about beauty and skincare.

“Aren’t you just the cutest~! After me of course.” Asmo squealed and flung his arms around him, nuzzling at his cheek happily. Before they both gathered up their bags for class and headed to the dining room.

Lucifer was already sitting at the table when they walked in, so was Beel. He didn’t see Belphie, it was the first time he hadn’t seen those two together. It made sense that the Avatar of Sloth would be a later riser, and it also made sense that the Avatar of Gluttony would usually be the first one to the table at mealtime.

“Good morning.” Zeke pulled out the chair next to Beel, who was shoving what looked like bacon and pancakes into his mouth. Asmo sat on the other side of him.

“Good morning, Zeke. Did you sleep well?” He couldn’t help but freeze at Lucifer’s question. At least his face froze too so his expression didn’t change until he forced himself to smile.

“I slept very well, actually.” Not a lie, he had slept very well yesterday, unusually well even. Zeke just didn’t sleep last night. That was normal for him. Somehow he managed not to squirm as those piercing red eyes seemed to bore holes into him. He was saved from further scrutiny by the appearance of Levi and Satan who took their seats with minor grumbling.

“Levi, did you stay up all night playing video games again?” Lucifer had found a new target. Zeke thanked his lucky stars and shot the otaku a sympathetic look. Sure, Levi had called him a normie but he didn’t seem so bad.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he tuned out Lucifer lecturing Levi so that he could snatch a few pieces of bacon and a piece of toast for his plate. There was a fresh pot of coffee on the table, he poured a mug and added just enough cream that the liquid wouldn’t scald his taste buds off.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” Beel had paused his gorging to eye Zeke’s breakfast skeptically.

“I’m not that hungry, honestly. I usually don’t eat a lot at breakfast. Eating too heavy first thing in the morning makes me feel a little sick.” Beel didn’t look convinced by Zeke’s reasoning, but thankfully got distracted by his own breakfast again as Zeke began nibbling on a piece of bacon. It was more gamey than the bacon he was used to, but it was still good.

Mammon finally dragged himself into the dining room complaining loudly about getting up this early, with a sleepy Belphie shuffling in behind him just as Zeke was finishing up his small breakfast and coffee.

“Asmo move, that’s my seat.” Belphie grumbled. “You sat next to him at dinner. Who’s hogging the human now?”

“Sit next to Beel. I was helping our darling Zeke get ready for school.” Asmo retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“He looks ready to me.” Belphie pouted with narrowed eyes.

“You’re both acting like you’re fighting over a new toy. Stop it.” Satan glared at them from his place at the table.

Oh bless Satan, or not, because he was a demon, but Zeke shot him a grateful look even as the others seemed ready to deny what Satan said.

“You’re all going to be late if you don’t hurry up.” Lucifer chided before it could descend into a full blown argument.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast had been a mildly tense and hurried affair after that, and to prevent further argument, everyone had walked to school together. Although that didn’t seem to stop them fully, since Asmo walked with his arm linked with him and Belphie was half-leaning against Zeke’s other side as they walked. Of course only Mammon complained loudly about this arrangement. For his part, Zeke was honestly fine with it. He liked Asmo way more than he had thought he would at first, and while Belphie could be a bit bratty, he liked him too. 

Once they reached school they had to go their separate ways. It made sense that most of the demons would have far more advanced classes than him, given they’d been attending RAD for much longer. Surprisingly all of the brothers, except Lucifer, shared at least one of his classes, but he assumed that was because at least one of them had to be with him at all times. It made sense.

Mammon was in his first class, which happened to be Mathematics and Arithmancy, much to Zeke’s dismay. It wasn’t that he was particularly bad at math, but it was so boring. 

Also it was hard to focus. There were so many demon auras around him, and a fair amount of them were far from friendly. Plenty of his classmates were looking at him with barely contained hostility, or hunger. Of course as it turned out, Zeke had a personal guard dog with a fairly loud bark.

“Oi! What ya lookin’ at? Scram!” To Zeke’s amazement not only did the demon currently eying him like a piece of meat scramble out of the classroom, but the teacher didn’t even bat an eye at any of it. Good to know. Come to think of it, hadn’t Lord Diavolo referred to the brothers as the seven rulers of Hell? Did that make them nobility? Didn’t they also mention the brothers making up most of the student council? 

So, not only was he one of only four exchange students, one of two that were human, but he was also living with the student council and what equated to demon lords - no wonder he was drawing so much attention. So much for trying not to be the center of attention. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of his first class had passed without incident. Mammon had walked him to his next class, which Zeke was much more excited about. Beel and Belphie were waiting for them outside the Pactology classroom. Before coming to the Devildom Zeke had no interest in pacts with demons, but now that he had a pact with Lucifer he couldn’t wait to learn everything that actually entailed, because he really didn’t know.

He felt safe sandwiched between Beel and Belphie. All Beel had to do was glance in the direction of any demon that so much as looked at Zeke and they turned away hurriedly. He supposed Beel could be considered intimidating. The Avatar of Gluttony was huge, muscular, and seemed to have a bit of a resting bitch face. Still, he couldn’t find the gentle giant scary, demon or not. Beel had been nothing but very sweet to him so far, and he couldn’t sense a malicious bone in his body - at least not towards him. Belphie seemed to sleep through the entire class, but Zeke wasn’t inclined to disturb him.

Aside from the expected hostility and being viewed as food, things actually seemed to go fairly smoothly in his first two classes. Sadly most of this first class on pacts was going over the history of pacts as opposed to methodology, which made sense, but was still slightly disappointing. Well he had a year to learn. It would be fine. The classes were long, and after Pactology would be lunch. Which was probably a good thing, he could hear Beel’s stomach rumbling.

When class was dismissed Beel didn’t even wake Belphie up, he simply picked his brother up along with both of their things. Zeke threw his own bag onto his shoulder and followed them out. Now, he was not a short person, but only two of the brothers were shorter than him - Asmo and Belphie. Beel still had almost half a foot on him and in the crowded hallways he found himself lagging behind a little. Demons that parted for Beel and Belphie didn’t mind shoulder checking him. One did so hard enough to knock him into a locker. He opened his mouth to call out to Beel, to ask him to wait up, or to get these demons off his back, but a hand went over his mouth and jerked him into an empty room he’d just passed.

Beel was so focused on getting to lunch, assuming that his human charge was still behind him, that he didn’t even look back.

Zeke felt a fresh wave of terror creep up his spine, but that spark of unadulterated rage that flickered in his chest kept it from seizing him completely. He grabbed at the wrist of the demon that had clamped his clawed hand over his mouth, trying to pull it away. All he needed to do was scream! Those claws scratched at his skin, prickling beads of blood to the surface on his cheeks and below his jaw as the demon lifted him off the floor by his face as he clawed and kicked in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

Lucifer please help me!

He shouted that thought as loud into his head as he could, and he did feel something swell inside him. A cold fury circled him like ice and the demon holding him winced. Zeke could feel Lucifer, but couldn’t summon him. Why couldn’t the class have taught him how to actually summon a pacted demon?

The door to the classroom slammed open and the demon turned from Zeke to snarl at whoever was interrupting his snack.

“Spirit of wind come forth!” That wasn’t a voice he recognized, but he wasn’t going to complain! The demon was wrenched away from Zeke by a strong gust of wind. The claws left parting gifts scratched across his jaw and neck, but he was free as he was dropped in a heap to the floor.

He heard a crash, what he assumed was the demon being flung across the room into desks and the wall, but all he could focus on was pressing his hand against his bleeding face. The scratches stung and he knew that the smell of human blood was probably a dinner bell to any nearby demons. Thankfully the scratches were shallow, but they were bleeding more than he’d have liked.

Zeke jerked away as a hand rested on his shoulder. The aura that had just brushed him was immense! It also wasn’t demonic. He looked up to see a blue-eyed, silver-haired human. That wasn’t reassuring for some reason. Aside from noting that this person wasn’t a demon and they were very powerful, Zeke couldn’t read his aura at all!

“Sorry, I won’t touch you. Let me get someone for you.” The other human raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, Solomon, call upon you to send forth one of your number! I summon the Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus!”

The room was filled with a glowing pink light, and Zeke watched the swirls of magic with wide eyes as Asmo materialized right in front of them.

“Solomon seriously? We’re at school!” Asmo had begun scolding Solomon - apparently - as soon as he’d arrived, but devolved into a shriek a moment later as he saw Zeke bleeding on the floor. “My darling! WHO DID THIS?!”

The Avatar of Lust practically shoved the human that summoned him out of the way so that he could fuss over Zeke. He had never felt genuine anger come from Asmo until that moment. A handkerchief appeared from somewhere to be pressed against his face and neck, honestly Zeke was a bit overwhelmed. He realized that Solomon was the one putting pressure on his scratches. Wasn’t this a bit over dramatic? It only stung a bit and they weren’t deep.

“I’m okay. Just a little shaken.” Zeke didn’t complain when Asmo gathered him into his arms and held him there on the floor.

“The demon is restrained over there, Asmo.” Solomon offered helpfully. “I was hoping to meet the other human exchange student, but this is not how I pictured it happening. I’m Solomon by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for the save. I’m Zeke, also I can feel Lucifer coming, and he is pissed.” As if on cue, the Avatar of Pride slammed open the classroom door, red eyes blazing with fury. Zeke was surprised to note that Barbatos and Lord Diavolo were both behind him, also looking rather displeased. Lucifer’s aura had been so intense he’d missed theirs.

“What happened?” Yikes.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me zeke #obey me ezekiel jada pendergast #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me dissonance

[uchihaharlot]

I have a question, what do you think of Obito/Tobi?

Hello nonny 😌🥹

You are my first ask on this blog 🥳🎉 And it’s of my beloved Obito/Tobi. 😍 Obito forever will be a gentle giant in my eyes with a side of fucking you stupid. Save that for another day. I will distinguish between the two personalities best I can. I feel like, aside from the mask hiding his identity, it was easier for him to be who he wanted to be in Tobi without the pressure.

Some sfw with mild suggestive themes Obito/Tobi headcanons:

Obito:

• Despite his role in bringing near world domination, he’s a lover not a fighter. After all the whole reason he went awol was because of Rin and Madara’s influence.

• Very easily manipulated. ☺️😅 Sorry Obito, he just is so gullible half majority the time. He doesn’t know any better, Madara completely lobotomized him from a young age to be his pawn after he died. A patsy for his own gain for Madara’s return from death.

• Definitely died virginal. Unless he fucked a white Zetsu, and as a teen he wasn’t very explorative given the seclusion and watchful eye of old man Madara. Plus he was focused on healing and growing half his damn body back. Plus, he didn’t look like himself anymore which probably gave him a bit of body dysmorphia and fed his insecurities.

• Genuinely believed he was being led the correct path in life. That he didn’t need anyone or the village — just Madara (especially didn’t need that Bakashi!!).

• Like majority of the men who are traumatized in this series, Obito can’t sleep at night. Late at night the inner confines of his mind play psychological warfare and close in on himself. ‘Am I doing the right thing?’ ‘Will this really make me feel better?’ ‘Will peace come once the dust settles?’

• Holds in his emotions until they crush him, figuratively and literally. Then he really carries the mantra of ‘burdened with glorious purpose.’ It replaces the heart on his sleeve and that’s when he hardens — or he thinks.

• Seeing Rin die definitely was that final straw and at the hands of Kakashi without any preemptive warning on the situation at hand. This is where Obito does a 180 and harnesses that resolve to carryon Madara’s will. Which is where Tobi comes out.

Tobi:

• Let’s see. I think when Obito designed became prisoner to this persona, it was a coping mechanism. Tobi was one way to get around his turmoil and needing a disguise was the perfect way to avoid dealing with deep seated issues. Win/win/???.

• It makes keeping a distance from the other Akatsuki members easier. Tobi doesn’t want to talk about his trauma or about his family’s history. When Itachi joins it’s imperative that the rest don’t know his secret. What trauma? He’s a new man in this new little world he’s made.

• Which is why in the beginning he’s such a butterball of feigned ignorant bliss. Obito never had the chance at a real childhood so what better way than to live that vicariously through his second ego?

• It also boosted his confidence, tremendously. Being an authoritative figure hiding within the ranks of a hand basket of deplorables made him deliciously confident. He can’t pinpoint why exactly, but having the Akatsuki on the string of his tennis shoe like puppets is an ego boost. It’s an added bonus that most are unsuspecting.

• I think Tobi sleeps most nights peacefully, not always though. Still has these moments of uncertainty, like that meme of your brain before going to bed and it spouts off some shit you’d rather not spend the night debating with yourself about. That still happens to Tobi but not as frequently as when it was Obito in the cockpit of his psyche.

• At the end of the day; we all have a face that we would hide. The face of a stranger, and when it comes to Tobi, Obito is his dead name — he doesn’t recognize much beyond the hurt that got him to where he was today. Letting it fester and further infect his brain. What did they call it? The curse of hatred: Obito is the poster child for this. Sure Sasuke would be a runner up but Sasuke literally chose the path of vengeance, Obito was molded by it. Tobi is the darkness and Obito became a prior life.

#obito headcanons #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #tobi akatsuki #akatsuki #uchiha clan #obito #naruto obito

[merakiui]

mera!! i loved the idol concept and just wanted to add something!

like what if you got injured during practice/(or sadly) on stage while performing? unfortunately Jade can’t hold Floyd back from running on stage to comfort you and Azul can’t stop the show fast enough to get you medical attention. thankfully your fans are understanding and clear the way for EMS. Floyd considers delaying his plan, of drugging you, until you get out of the hospital but any later than that and you’ll be itching to get back on stage.

or consider you having a stalker that the tweels somehow doesn’t know about but they (Azul and Floyd especially, for extremely differing reasons) start to worry when you don’t show up for practice one morning. Azul sends the tweels to your apartment and when they get there, Jade practically has to stop Floyd from breaking down your door and when they get inside it’s a complete mess. papers strewn about, knocked over furniture, broken objects, etc… they can’t find any sign that you’ve been here in the last few hours and also according to Floyd you are missing various items of clothing.

Thank you for enjoying it!!! :D and these additions are so good!

It works in Floyd's favor because the fans are too worried about you to notice his lingering touches, and since most are aware that he's your bodyguard it makes sense for him to leap in to help. He was trained to protect, after all. He's just reacting to the situation in the way he's meant to, which means he can get away with putting his hands on you and gathering you in his arms to guide you backstage to where medical help awaits while Azul and Jade are quick to settle the panicked audience. He's devastated you're hurt. This is exactly what he was complaining about to Azul. Azul works you too hard and this is the result of that! He keeps saying you ought to be granted more patience and leniency, but Azul never listens—says you're doing just fine with your current regimen. He's so frustrated. He really wants to kick someone's ass, but for now he has to focus on comforting you. Bloodying his knuckles can wait.

Floyd hates seeing you in pain; that's mainly why he knows he has to drug you, otherwise there's no other way you'll accept him. And it would break his poor heart if you cried because of him. But with this new turn of events, thoughts of drugging and knocking you up slip to the back of his mind. He can't do any of that right now—at least not while you're recovering. Floyd visits you every day in the hospital (often staying late until he's forced out), pushing past throngs of fans and reporters until he's granted special access to your room. Sometimes Jade's there, helping you sit up and offering to feed you (he's babying you; that annoying ass. It should be Floyd spoon-feeding you, not his charming, put-together, always suave twin brother). Other times Azul is there. He brings flowers; it's a courtesy or an apology or...something else entirely. Your room smells beautifully of fresh blossoms. Floyd wonders what sort of flowers he'd want at his wedding. Truthfully, he doesn't care so long as you like it.

Floyd pulls up a chair and sits at your bedside, sometimes resting his head on the mattress, his hand so ready to slip into yours (he never holds it; he wants to). You blame yourself for the accident, saying stupid things like, "If I wasn't so careless..." or "If I'd just practiced the choreography a little more..." Floyd tells you it's not your fault (it never is and it never will be); you never believe him. And this is precisely why he wants to steal you away. It's too dangerous. Your life is so precious. Why are you throwing it away just to be everyone's idol? He'd dye his hair, change his name, start a new life if it meant the both of you could live quietly, peacefully, preferably at the edge of the world by the sea (always the sea; the smell of it is a comfort, a reminder of home, and one day it will be your home). But in the back of his mind he thinks you wouldn't want that. Some days Floyd doesn't know what you want. But he knows that you deserve happiness. He'll give it to you. One day. Hopefully soon.

- - -

Omg if you were kidnapped by your stalker... Floyd is beyond distraught. He's ready to turn your residence upside down in his desperate search, but Jade stops him. This is technically a crime scene; it's best not to disturb any potential evidence. "Fuck the evidence! Shrimpy's missin'! We gotta find Shrimpy!" he's saying, voice thick with hurt, his mind reeling, his fingers scrabbling for something, a neck or a wrist or anything he can break, snap, maim, kill. Floyd has to be dragged from out of the property, has to be slapped across the face so he can get it together, but Floyd can't. It's his job to protect you from harm and he failed and you're gone and he may never see you again and you could be hurt or worse and he's never going to forgive himself and— It's a relief Jade is there, otherwise he might do something violently rash. It's Jade who informs Azul of the situation, who discusses where to go from there while Floyd paces restlessly outside as they wait for the authorities to arrive to cordon off the area and conduct a thorough search.

He has no idea where you could be or how long it's been since you were taken. There was a struggle; that much is obvious. Did you know this person? Are they a complete stranger? Where could they have taken you? Did they hurt you? Threaten you? The more Floyd thinks, the more despairing he becomes. His Shrimpy... His sweet, lovable, wonderful Shrimpy must be so scared. So alone... He has to find you. The police can be incompetent and slow and Floyd hates the idea of someone else coming to your rescue. It ought to be him. And when he gets his hands on the one who kidnapped you... Floyd hasn't talked to his father in a while; he prefers chatting with his mama because his old man can be such a nag at times. But his father has connections and now Floyd needs them, and he's a mere call away.

He'll find you. He can't lose you. And when he does, he's taking you to a safer, better place—a place far from the grimy limelight of the stage. This is why you shouldn't be an idol. It's dangerous. This is why he has to keep you safe. It's his job, but most importantly it's because he loves you. So even if he has to lock you away for your own good, force domesticity on you in the name of protection, he has to ensure you're safe. At the end of the day, that's all that matters to him.

(I like to imagine your stalker is Rollo, but it's fun to picture other characters in that place hehe.)

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #forgive me for writing so much ^^;;; #i may be a little obsessed with bodyguard floyd orz #i love him aaaaaa #i could write an entire series for this concept because there's so much potential #(someone hold me back please stop me before the gears in my brain turn and i draft chapters orz orz) #perhaps i should just write a very long floyd thought like how i often pen my azul thoughts #hhhmmmmm many thoughts

[muzzleroars]

What if anything would be able to calm your version of V1 down? Like if V2 just greeted and hugged it when they first met vs attacking it on site would it calm down even a little bit or is it always running at 200%?

hello it's time to talk about v1's psychology!!!

oooooh a good question...my idea of v1 is really centered on two things that define its character, which are war and errors. v1 is an intrinsically hostile being, built purely to engage in combat and given only the bare minimum of social protocols in order to not be completely unmanageable by humans. its default state is conflict, it chooses violence as its primary course of interaction, and i think its ai has determined the world is in a perpetual state of war which leads it to constantly be "on" - that is, it presupposes every encounter will be hostile and responds accordingly (which is continually reinforced since it's in hell lol).

HOWEVER...v1 is also incredibly intelligent and riddled with errors at this point, leading it to engage in a lot of behavior that's unnecessary or unrelated to its goal of "war" - it enjoys exploration, it's curious and wants to learn (i love the idea that it likes reading, but it still has an algorithm that cuts it off if the information isn't "pertinent". it hates this) and most importantly, it's able to learn and modify its behavior to a certain extent. one of the reasons it tends to be so hyper aggressive is because it's running on the idea that it's constantly engaged, it is currently in a war, and because it's been left to iterate on its own in a mind that was never properly limited due to its project being cancelled, it's become animal-like in its pursuit of prey. but, if it can be convinced another being is approaching it peacefully, it CAN switch over to its curious nature rather than its conflict nature. due to the reinforcement i mentioned, this can be difficult - it will continue to assume hostility due to previous encounters and the general bad vibes in hell, but it's not beyond reasoning and settling down.

this quieting is admittedly fragile - its social modules are weak and it has to dedicate much more processing power to simple communication than to the most sophisticated battle strategies, yet i think in all its vast intelligence, it suffers from loneliness and isolation. it is acutely aware of what it’s doing, even in its revelry and the reward it experiences at its mass destruction, it understands entropy, collapse, and the finite resource that is its fuel. but it cannot be conservative. to be conservative is contrary to its nature, to its runaway war programming. so while it stares into an ever-growing abyss of its own making, while existential anxiety suffocates it further and further by its own hand, it never slows its wanton killing, a part of it continues to to be uncaring, to be proud, to laugh at the infinite loss of life it’s causing. it exists in both spaces constantly, errored mind and corroded code internally tearing it in two...but if it can just be persuaded the battle isn’t here, not right now, even if there is a war outside it doesn’t exist in this moment, that constant, exhausting loop can be suspended for a time and that’s how it calms down. it will still be destructive, it will still be too hard and too fast, but it can be talked to and it can learn to interface in gentler ways. and its intelligence, its sophisticated and ever expanding mind still with those little social protocols, wants to be able to do this, wants to hold onto something that it won’t break and lose forever.

and this is another part of its tragedy because it can’t really start that process. it must engage in combat, it will always choose to attack before anything else BUT if its enemy survives that encounter it can create a connection. and being able to survive it is key because v1 requires violence in its relationships, it will need to fight and spar to properly connect with another being in between quieter moments because brutality is its paradigm. it’s still not an easy process, it’s constantly leaning toward harm, it doesn’t fully comprehend its more sentimental emotions and when it does, it can consider them dangerously corrupted code and attempt to block them because its system flags it as a fatal error...but it can, in spite of all the software put in place to keep it solitary, connect with others due in large part to the “errors” it’s accumulated. of course i think about this a lot in the context of its relationship with gabriel as it learns to be gentle with him and to want to be gentle with him (like i mentioned in some tags, it likes climbing on him in part because that’s its way of getting his attention without violent means) but i really do think v1 and v2 could have worked together. they would have an inherent understanding of one another due to being built on the same firmware and similar hardware, plus i think v2 could intuitively understand why v1 acts as it does. they have major differences, such as v2 being much more socially oriented and v1′s mind being left uncompleted, but they had the capacity to connect even if they would likely always be at least competitive. it could have been tempered into a rivalry rather than on sight death matches, but with the world so broken, with communication and cooperation long forgotten, v2 engaged with it on v1′s terms, on the principles of war every being now operates on.

and since war is intrinsic to v1′s existence, it has a constant upper hand

#THIS IS JUST SO LONG.... #but my v1 actually has a relatively complex inner life #it's riddled with contradictions at every turn #to be animal-like but with nearly infinite intellect #to celebrate the death it causes but be filled with dread at it #to embrace its errors but protect its core coding #it's an entity stretched far beyond its intended purpose and capacity #but it's also a silly little guy doing its best! #SORRY i am like this #cake answers

[chartreuseian]

*throws a handful of stars in your inbox* ⭐⭐⭐ (Go crazy!)

Ahhh!! Thank you 😍

OK, number 1. I'm going to go with this currently unpublished little moment from A Lesson in Family because I think you'll like it!

“Once upon a time I sort of wondered if you and I might find ourselves dealing with this particular question,” she said quietly, hand settling low on her belly. “As did I,” he acknowledged with a chuckle. “Though I can only imagine what kind of hellion might have sprung from us.” Helen laughed softly then too. “They’d be wild,” she allowed. “Completely unreasonable too, I have no doubt.” “Perhaps they might have inherited only our good graces and very best manners.” He toyed with her toe, tickling the soul of her foot. “You never know.” Helen laughed more loudly then, tugging her foot away from his teasing fingers. “Or perhaps she’d have all your charms,” he continued, trailing his hand up the inside of her leg. “And my cunning.” “Your charms,” she countered, “and my cunning.” John laughed openly at that, letting his head fall back as his fingers fell off of her skin. “Far more terrifying,” he agreed. “Probably for the best, then?” Helen smiled warmly at him before leaning over to deposit her mug on the coffee table. She scooted closer, laying her legs across his lap as she leaned into his chest. John wrapped an arm around her shoulder before letting his head rest atop hers. It was strange to think that, in a different life, they might never have ended up like this. What would his world look like if Helen had married him? Or if she’d married James? Hell, if she’d married Nikola? It felt like the weight of their history was unfurling around them, and a thousand possible lifetimes along with it. Bringing a hand up to stroke the long, dark curls of her hair, John pressed a kiss to her head. “Congratulations,” he whispered, tightening his arm around her shoulders for the briefest of moments. There was a shudder of breath before she pressed even closer into his embrace, head burrowing against his chest. “Thank you,” was the whispered reply.

So, this is set in the nebulous 'modern times' after Helen has found out, quite unexpectedly, that she's pregnant. And John ends up being the first person she tells, so they have this cute little moment where he sort of wonders at all the 'what ifs' of their life (the premise of the series is that Helen, John, James and Nikola have been together in various ways since about 1880 so while much of the world they live in is the same, there are obviously some big changes).

One of the only things about this series that I didn't love was that I couldn't find a way to have Ashley be a part of it (for a whole host of reasons, including but not limited to Helen being extra vampy which impacts on her fertility and John mostly ending up with James) so this little moment was my nod to her.

John's relationship with Helen's daughter is also something I'm keen to explore. I think he's her favourite and he dotes on her (when she's choosing an alias as an adult to sneak around behind her parents' backs she uses 'Druitt' as her last name) but I'm fascinated by the idea that at some point she has to learn about his history as the Ripper which is probably a lot for a teenager to wrap her head around, even one being raised by immortals.

John's also the one who ends up naming her:

“Dawn?” Nikola offered. “For the dawning of a new chapter?” James pulled a face, and Helen opened her mouth to protest but John beat them both. “Aurora.” They all grew silent and Nikola watched as John smiled down at the baby sleeping so very peacefully in his arms. Shifting her slightly, he bent his head towards her before he spoke again. “Thy cheek begins to redden through the gloom, Thy sweet eyes brighten slowly close to mine, Ere yet they blind the stars, and the wild team Which love thee, yearning for thy yoke, arise, And shake the darkness from their loosened manes, And beat the twilight into flakes of fire.” The baby (Aurora, Nikola knew then) shifted at the deep timbre of his voice, but other than a small fist pressing firmly to her cheek as he spoke didn’t move. John looked up then, smiling softly.

Part of this story also deals with why John and James didn't adopt Henry (which is a whole other rant) so it felt important that John got to have this slightly different relationship with Aurora.

I... I got carried away there, didn't I? 😅

Let's go with the latest chapter of 'Mr & Mrs' (in celebration of me FINISHING the final chapter for this monstrosity this morning).

So, Nikola is being all morose and guilty because he's done a bad thing and 'forgotten' to explain to his parents why he's coming home and just who he is bringing with him. It wasn't originally part of the plan, but this is the last sort of 'arc' for this story and I needed a reason for things to be awkward for them because they've been a bit too happy (and need to get better at talking it out rather than just screwing, yah know?) so this was where we ended up. I don't love it, but I also think it fits with this version of Nikola who is so unsure of his place in the world, and when I consider it alongside the fact that the real Nikola Tesla was the only surviving son and actively shunned the life he was supposed to live, it feels fitting to me.

It will, of course, spiral out of his control which was fun in that it gives me the chance to play with the idea of Helen being truly hurt by the thought that he's ashamed of her. In many ways it cuts to some of her deepest fears and so she is more upset by it that she might otherwise be.

In the long run I think it's good for them because it forces them to understand each other a little more and when they finish up their time there, they've both grown up a little because of it.

(and, unshockingly, it leads to some very steamy make up Adults Cuddles which I'm certain we could all predict is where this would end up given it's me and this story)

Sorry (not really) for the rambles!!

#thank you :) #asks #writing #fanfic #sanctuary #helen magnus #nikola tesla

[atherix]

📓📓📓👀

Oh ho ho alright then <3

FIRST AU you get is one you already know all about, however I will talk about it anyway because I love it; my pirate AU.

In this one, Scar is the youngest Elven prince, the sparest of the spares of the heir, and one day just ups and disappears, stealing one of his mother's naval ships on his way out. This world is sci-fantasy but the Elves, while they definitely have a compulsion magic and Uncanny Valley going on (think eyes a little too large, teeth a little too sharp, mouth a little too wide, skin a little too smooth- like a porcelain doll, or a finely crafted mask) do not have the level of magic they do in Midnight, and the Elves are rather technologically advanced as far as society goes.

So Scar steals an Elven naval ship, and the thing about Elven ships is, through a combination of clever architecture and nigh-incomprehensible redstone engineering, can fly. The ship has wing sails. So Scar now has this amazing vessel that no one outside of the Elven kingdom has ever seen, and ofc the outside navy wants it, as do certain pirate crews...

Now, Scar builds a little, but loyal, crew and embraces his new title of pirate. Mumbo is his first mate and by the time the story starts they've already become lovers- which a lot of people think Mumbo absolutely mad for, because Elves were once upon a time predators of humans and humans (and related species) still feel an instinctive fear of them. They're being chased by the navy, the Elves are searching for their wayward prince (no one on the crew, not even Mumbo, knows Scar is a prince), and Ren- a rival pirate- is chasing them because he, too, wants the flying ship. Shenanigans ensue, Grian is acquired (and he has his own mission which Scar and Mumbo offer to help with, which he only accepts after he finds out the ship can fly), there's a literal ocean of sand somewhere along the way... and along the way Scar and Mumbo's relationship, which starts pretty surface-level based on mutual attraction, deepens into actual genuine love, and then Grian gets thrown into the mix and kfdjkgfdjkkj-

SECOND AU you get is the Dragon Hunters AU, loosely based off of HTTYD, in which Mumbo and Xisuma are brothers. Xisuma is the chief of their... village, I suppose you can call it; the village started as a band of dragon hunters many many many years ago, and their ancestors got stranded and settled down, and now they still go out to hunt dragons but it's more of a self defense thing now. Mumbo, being the wet cat mechanic he is, is a terrible dragon hunter. His family and village love him of course but no one really believes he has what it takes. Grian is his best friend and the one person who believes him him 100%, but Grian has some secrets of his own.

Scar is a dragon rider, a clan of Elves that have adapted to live harmoniously with dragons (LOOK you can pry Elf Scar from my cold dead hands I am not letting him go). He's the younger brother of Gem, who is the princess and heir of their Elf clan. Scar is absolutely fascinated by the complete wet cat energy Mumbo gives out when he fails to kill a dragon, this time not out of inability but because he doesn't have the heart to, and thinks this one can be redeemed (Scar had gone to save the dragon from Mumbo but would have arrived too late had Mumbo not been a soft heart).

Anyway that's. Pretty much all I have for this lmao

THE THIRD AU you get is Mumbo Lives In A Sentient House And The House Is Grumbot AU. I need. A better name for it. But basically Mumbo is a hermit, possibly a vampire again because vampire Mumbo is just so good, but also possibly just Some Guy™ or something a little eldritch flavored. Either way, he lives in a house- a manor or maybe even a castle- that is continuously changing. Its walls change, its layout changes, doors change location, windows change, rooms move, stairs disappear. This house likes no one BUT Mumbo, and Mumbo lives peacefully and safely inside. Of course Grian and Scar, two guys who grew up in the village the home overlooks and heard all the stories of hauntings and mysterious disappearances, go to the house because Scar's cat, Jellie, ran inside an open window.

Once more, Mumbo's absolute wet cat energy combined with his much more aggressive house is just. Mwah. Sadly I don't have much more on this AU, as it's more of a plot bunny, BUT. Here it is <3

#ask #ask game #hermitshipping #they're all mumscarian sorry not sorry #<3 #Long post

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. I read a quote in Le Point last week where some unnamed someone was quoted as saying "he is going to end up alone with Brigitte" in regards to this whole thing with the retirement reform. Without going into the politics of the situation or anything else depressing (because there is enough of that in the outside world), I haven’t been able to get that quote out of my head since I read it (maybe it’s the fact that it’s such a law of the universe that he always has Brigitte that even unnamed sources who want to tear him down know that even if he has no other allies he always has her that is just so 🥹) but I had to write something with it. Anyways, this is inspired by the quote, not the current situation ha ha. Hope you all enjoy.

As he stared at his wife’s beautiful face as she slept peacefully still pillowed on his chest, he let his mind wander. He was contented to just be in the quiet, safe, loving presence of his wife, alone with his soulmate, with his world.

He smiled as he recalled the first time they woke up together all those many, many years ago now, his mind painting the scene in such vivid detail, it was as if he was taken right back to the moment.

He blinks awake slowly, pulled from a deep, contented sleep, the likes of which he had never experienced before. He knows he’s never been this happy in his life, knows he’s never fallen asleep with a smile as large as he did last night, but he knows that’s not the reason he is so at peace.

That reason slowly shifts in his arms, as she too awakes, as if their internal alarm clocks were as linked together as every other part of them - their hearts, their minds, their souls, their destinies - unable to waste a single moment of his consciousness without her presence beside him.

He knows in the moment that he sees her blue eyes open, clouded first with sleep before focusing on his face and lighting up in an instant as if she was suddenly seeing the world, her world, for the first time that there is nothing he wouldn’t do to see that sight every single morning for the rest of his life.

"Good morning, mon cœur," he whispers, almost afraid that if he speaks any louder that he will break the magical spell they have been under since he took her to bed the night before.

"Good morning," she smiles radiantly back up at him before reaching up for a good morning kiss, completely unselfconscious about morning breath, just desperate to connect with him again. "Did you sleep well?" She asks gently, hoping this morning in the quiet stillness she brought him peace through the night, like he had her.

"I’ll be honest. I’ve never slept so well in my life," he blushes a little as he responds under the weight of her gaze. "I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep without you again."

"The feeling is mutual," she mumbles back, words pressed into his flesh as she snuggles herself ever closer to him, equally needing him to know the value of his presence to her.

He rolls them over, settling on top of her as he presses ever heated kisses to her lips, ready to continue where they left off last night, when a simple notion strikes him. He has spent a lot of his life alone and lonely - separate or different from his peers, from his family - but now that he has her, even if he is alone, he will never be lonely again.

The memory dissipates quickly before it gets to the good part, much to his chagrin, although it quickly changes to another scene, another morning about 10 years later.

He is staring at the morning light reflecting off his simple ring, still in awe that he was her husband now when she sees him after she awakes.

"Having second thoughts?" She teases, knowing he is the person on the planet the least likely to ever regret getting married. At least, getting married to her.

"Never," he swears, looking at his wife with such a searing intensity, she finds she has to look away. "Hey, hey," he soothes gently, moving her chin under his fingers so sweetly, her gaze can’t help but follow back to his, "are you?"

"Never," she vows back, sealing her words with a kiss. "You’re all mine now. Only mine."

"Oh, chérie, I’ve been yours since the moment I met you," he informs her casually, as if this status was a law of the universe, so simple, so obvious, it needed no further explanation once revealed.

His mind wandered again, this time to another morning with another 10 year gap.

He wakes to the sound of her sighing. He can tell she is trying to be quiet about it, can tell she doesn’t want to wake him, so he gives her a few more moments where he pretends to be asleep, gives her those few more minutes to be with her thoughts. She who has sacrificed so much for him, he can surely give her that.

"Oh, chéri," she whispers, so quietly, so heartbreakingly, it takes everything in him to remain still. "What have you gotten us into, huh?"

He doesn’t know. He thinks neither of them can know yet. He just knows he had to do it, and he is so grateful, oh so very grateful, she has stuck by his side. He cannot live without her, and if asked to chose between her and anything else, much less this job, it would not even be a choice. That she has never asked that of him - he cannot express his gratitude.

He can’t keep silent any longer, though, when he hears her whisper something about them never being alone again. He can’t let her fear that, think that, dread that.

"You know, I haven’t been alone in 20 years."

"What?" She asks confused.

"I haven’t been alone in 20 years, because I’ve always had you with me. Even when you weren’t present in the room with me, or in the same city as me, or hell, even on the same contient as me, I’ve always had you with me - in my heart, in my mind. Just like every time we’ve been together, even in the most crowded room in the world, it feels like I’m alone with you when I look into your eyes, or hear your voice, or see you smile.

"So maybe we won’t have the privacy we had before, maybe we won’t have all the time we want to spend together - and I’m truly, truly sorry for everything you’re about to give up for me. But we will be alone together, if only because I feel like we are the only two people in the world every time you hold my hand."

"What are you thinking about so early in the morning, huh?" She asked gently as she blinks awake, rolling further into his side as she does so, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest as she feels his arms tighten around her now that he knows she’s awake, pulling him out of his trip down memory lane.

"You and me," he replied, returning her kiss by pressing one to the top of her head.

"Anything in particular?" She asked with a contented smile, loving that she is as wedged into every crevice of his brain as he is in hers.

"How much I love you, how happy I feel when I’m alone with you, how much I need you" he replied honestly.

"Just you and me, mon cœur. That’s all we need - just you and me."

Hellooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

When I read that quote I thought “why are they making it sound like it’s something bad, like being alone with Brigitte is not the one thing he desires the most?”. And your piece just turned out so beautiful and aligned with my thoughts 🥺 Emmanuel thinking back at all those moments with Brigitte... oh my heart... ❤️

Yes, I do believe that no matter what, as long as they have each other, they will get through everything ❤️

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #fanfic anon 2

[meimi-haneoka]

Thank you so much for the long reply! Honestly, I watched CCS as a preteen and this is my first rewatch since then. Subtle portrayals of wealth or class, particularly in Syaoran's case, really didn't register my brain at that age, particularly since I come from a similar colonial city with British influenced legacy. It was only when I revisited the Movie 1 recently did I notice those subtle signs. Watching it, I went "Wait, that's the Peak Tram. Wait a sec, he lives on Victoria Peak in Hong Kong. Wait, that is a mansion in the infamously cramped Hong Kong. Boy is definitely wealthy." I think it was also because unlike in the case of the Daidouji/Amamiya family where displays of wealth are pretty overt, the Lis are relatively subdued. Or maybe it's because we are seeing the show from Sakura's POV that we are more exposed to the former than the latter. *Shrugs* On a second ask, what do think will be Akiho and Kaito's ending in this arc? I sincerely hope that those two settle down in Tomoeda away from that horrible Squid Clan and Association and live peacefully amongst their loving and accepting friends. I am also worried about Kaito's life span or force and Akiho's core which was damaged by being overwritten, so I wonder whether the HOPE card will come into play and save it via a miracle or something.

And here I am replying to you too, thank you so much for sending this ask!!! It came right before my tumblr post so I decided to keep it for when I'd have already written that and expressed my thoughts on the most recent events...

I have to say that, just like you, the wealth of the Li's didn't exactly register in my brain when I watched CCS the first time around as a teen (also because I was ignorant about the places that were depicted in movie 1), but as I held tight onto my love for CCS along the years, I came eventually in contact with people that explained to me that actually the place where the Li mansion is located really exists (along with others depicted in the movie) and it's also a very high-end residential area! I'm also inclined to believe that we're more aware of the wealth of the Daidouji family because we see things from Sakura's perspective and also because that touches Sakura herself (well, after the reconciliation with her father, some of the wealth of the Amamiya's was offered to Sakura too 👀).

Passing to your second ask (I shamelessly get all giddy whenever I have to answer to an ask about Kaito and Akiho), oh I absolutely wish the same as you. I really hope they can settle down in Tomoeda where they have a "trusted network" of friends that can support them, because I bet whatever you want that they won't escape this Clear Card Arc completely unscathed. There'll be some unresolved mess or something that won't let them live completely carefree, so they'll need all the help they can get. I think Akiho in particular will go back to live with Kaito, but she will always be considered "one of the family" by the Kinomoto's, and I don't think there'd be a better arrangement for her. Kaito also needs to be welcomed into "the group" and interact with people more to dismantle piece by piece his self-loathing. But most importantly, those two need to finally live a life together without masks, being honest with eachother, and growing up together while supporting one another (because yes, Kaito is quite immature and does have a lot to learn too). In this way, with time, they'll be eventually ready to enter a full-fledged relationship (because yes I really do hope a complete happy ending for them. I honestly can't think about what they were capable to do for eachother without screaming in my head 'soulmates').

Alas, CLAMP might have in mind to decide to make Akiho and Kaito (with Momo!!! Momo cannot be left out of the picture) continue traveling around the world. If they'll still have problems with the Squids/Association, they might need to do so in order to escape from their grasp.....who knows. I'd feel a lot less at ease in that case, though.

And yes, your worries are my worries too and I hope they'll get addressed in the next chapter: going back to the previous world is fun and all but there are some big problems to solve if we really want this to be a happy ending....In that regard, I'm talking about it with people lately and it's growing more and more popular the theory that Sakura will produce a Card to solve one or more of those problems, with the appearance of Kaito and Akiho (they're the only ones missing from the new cards, after all!). It'd be really good if the "manga version" of the Hope Card was assigned to them 🥹I would cry!

#reply #ccsakura #clear card arc #card captor sakura

[inimikal-archive]

Thinking  about  my  favorite  awful  alien,  so  heres  a  headcanon  drop !

The  reason  we  hardly  see  anyone  from  Frieza’s  race  outside  of  their  family  in  the  main  timeline  is  because  they’re  almost  extinct.  Much  like  the  saiyans,  Frieza’s  people  are  rare,  few  and  far  between and  in  current  day  its  believed  those  who  do  still  live  are  part  of  Frieza’s  family.  ( This  is  obviously  with  the  exclusion  of  those  from  Alternate  dimensions  or  time  hoppers  & so  on.  Though  the  universe  is  huge,  it  wouldn’t  be  a  stretch  to  say  there  are  others  out  there  somewhere,  just  to  be  friendly  to  all  the  OCs  in  the  fandom. ALSO  note  these  are  just  MY  personal  headcanons  &  they  dont  have  to  be  followed !  I  know  they  are  completely  outside  of  fanon  norm. ) 

Frieza’s  family  was  the  ‘royal’  bloodline  of  their  species.  This  was  due  to the  mutation  they  possessed  which  caused  abnormally  &  overwhelmingly  high  power  levels  at  birth.  Frieza  &  their  “father”,  King  Cold,  were  particularly  potent  examples  of  this.  This  mutation  does  not  effect  everyone  in  their  family  as  Cooler  is  not  considered  to  posses  the  mutant  gene.  This  gene  granted  them  favor  among  their  family  &  species  given  the  high  power  levels  it  gave  them  &  thus  what  forged  the  “royal”  line.  

Frieza’s  species  were  very  similar  to  the  saiyans  in  the  way  that  they  valued  strength  among  all  else  &  often  considered  things  such  as  kindness  &   love  to  be  a  weakness.  However,  while  the  saiyans  were  considered  barbaric,  Frieza’s  kind  were  thought  of  as  aristocratic.  They  were  galactic  snobs  of  epic  proportions  who  looked  down  upon  most  other  races  throughout  the  cosmos.  There  were  little  tears  shed  for  their  apparent  destruction.  Though,  there  are  very  few  creatures  in  the  galaxy  long  lived  enough  to  recall  any  of  this.  In  present  day,  Frieza’s  kind  are  looked  upon  as  a  type  of  unicorn  or  mythical  creature.  However,  thanks  to  the  notorious  actions  of  Frieza’s  “modern”  family  line   they  are  also  pretty  well  feared.

The  exact  specifics  of  what  happened  to  Frieza’s  species   is  unknown  ( Translation:  I  haven’t  decided  the   exact  details,  but  yes,  Beerus  was  involved.  )  Not  even  Frieza  has  any  idea  what  exactly  happened  to  their  kind.  King  Cold  does  not  speak  of  it,  if  hes  are  aware  of  what  actually  happened.  It  seems  to  be  considered  a  shameful  event  &  thus  not  spoke  or  thought  of.  Frieza,  in  general,  knows  little  of  their  own  kind,  their  culture  &  the  like.  Frieza  was  born  long  after  their  near  extinction.  What  little  Frieza  does  know  is  passed  down  from  Cold  &  it  would  seem  Cold’s  knowledge  is  also  second  hand.  King  Cold  is  thought  of  as  the  current  eldest  living  member  of  their  kind.  However,  again,  its  possible  not  even  he  is  old  enough  to  have  ever  lived  naturally  on  their  home  planet.  Its  suggested  the  event  that  lead  to  their  near  extinction  happened  even  before  Cold  was  born,  given  Chilled  was  already  functioning  as  a  space  pirate  during  his  own  time &  he  far  proceeds  King  Cold.

The  planet  trade  organisation  was  founded  by  &  has  been  maintained  by  Frieza’s  family  &  kind  after  their  own  world  was  destroyed.  Control  of  this  immense  galactic,  criminal  empire  was  passed  down  for  generations  before  landing  in  Frieza’s  hands.  The  organisation  was  founded  after  Frieza’s  species  home  planet  was  destroyed  &  the  aliens  realized  there  was  a  profit  to  be  made  in  conquering  &  selling  planets  to  similarly  “homeless”  aliens.  With  their  unchallenged  power  levels,  they  were  able  to  pull  this  off.  It  is  thought  however,  that  originally,  the  survivors  of  Frieza’s  kind  attempted  to  settle  &  trade  peacefully  with  other  planets  as  refugees  but  found  every  attempt  they  made  to  be  met  with  hostility.  Growing  impatient,  eventually  the  “Frost  Demons”  started  to  take  what  they  needed  by  force,  exterminating  any  opposition.

Again,  Frieza’s  race  are  exceptionally  long  lived.  Frieza  themselves  is  at  least  60  years  old  in  humans  years,  though  appears  to  be  little  more  than  a  matured  adult  psychically.  Frieza  was  roughly  16  when  they  were  given  the  title  of  Emperor  of  the  planet  trade  organisation  &  this  was  a  gift  to  them  by  Cold.  Needless  to  say  it  was  one  hell  of  a  sweet  16.  However  its  also  true  that  Frieza  demanded  this,  so  it  wasn’t  done  at  random  & King  Cold  has  always  helped  Frieza  maintain  the  organisation  from  the  shadows,  even  as  an  “adult”  Frieza  has  co-controlled  the  planet  trade  organisation  alongside  Cold  &  Cold  is  respected  as  &  considered  as  much  of  its  “owner”  as  Frieza. 

Frieza’s  race  are  “simultaneous  hermaphrodites.”  Their  race  did  not  have  separate  sexes  very  much  like  the  Banana  slugs  of  earth.  Friezas’  people  do  have  a  sense  of  gender  expression  but  it  varies  from  individual  to  individual. Some  express  more  masculine,  others  more  feminine,  then  there  are  some  that  remain  in-between / undefined.  Frieza  tends  to  be  androgynous,  though  is  also  known  to  lean  somewhat  femininely.  They  were  able  to  both  reproduce  asexually  or  sexually.  Cooler  was  born  from  the  union  between  Cold  and  a  mate  who’s  name  was  Krisp.  Cold  was  ultimately  disappointed  that  Cooler  did  not  posses  the  mutant  gene  &  was  considered  a  ‘normal’  child.  Thus,  it  was  believed  that  as  a  result  Cold  could  never  have  a  proper  heir  in  Cooler.

What  happened  to  Cold’s  mate  is  unknown.  Its  possible  they  were  killed  in  their  line  of  business.  They  would  have  been  Frieza’s  parent  as  well  had  this  not  occurred  but  due  to  this  event  &  Cold’s  discontent  with  Cooler’s  lack  of  their  prized  ‘mutant’  gene,  thinking  of  him  as  a  poor  choice  for  an  heir Cold  chose  to  have  another  child,  thus  created  Frieza  asexually. This  was  considered  a  great  success,  given  Frieza  was  in  fact  born  with  the  mutant  gene,  something  that  was  pretty  much  guaranteed. 

Cooler  is  at  least  10  years  older  than  Frieza.  Due  to  Cooler’s  non-mutant  status,  he  had  to  train  hard  to  keep  up  with  Frieza’s  natural  born  abilities.  Cooler  did  in  fact  train  hard  enough  to  keep  up  with  his  baby  sibling,  however  it  never  seemed  to  be  enough  for  Cold.  As  a  result  there  is  definitely  a  strong  rivalry  between  the  two  siblings  & a  deep  bitterness  Cooler  feels  toward  King  Cold  & Frieza. Frieza  was  never  really  ‘good’  or  ‘kind’,  they  were  not  ‘made’  evil.  Frieza’s  species  for  me  take  a  lot  of  inspiration  from  reptiles.  They  are  born -  or  perhaps  ‘hatched’ -  formed  &  intelligent,  not  like  a  typical  infant,  much  like  a  baby  lizard  leaves  its  egg-  able  to  fend  for  itself  for  the  most  part.  From  “birth”  Frieza  was  considered  exceptionally  powerful.  Their  callous  &  wicked  temperament  was  very  heavily  encouraged  by  their  parent,  although  Frieza  was  also  feared  by  Cold.  They  were  not  ‘abused’  or  neglected  in  any  typical  sense  that  might  serve  to  ‘excuse’  Frieza’s  behavior. 

That  said,  “love”  &  “affection”  seem  to  be  very  muted  in  Frieza’s   life.  King  Cold  was  not   exactly  cruel  to  them  in  any  way,  but  his   affection  was  more  or  less  given  by  spoiling  Frieza  with  material  wealth  &  praise  &  as  a  result  Frieza  has  little  concept  of  actual  affection,  particularly  on  a  psychical  &  emotional  level.  Its  foreign   &  uncomfortable  to  them  to  witness  or  experience  those  type  of  emotions.  That  being  said  Frieza  obviously  has  some  kind  of  care  for  their  Father  which  extends  in  some  way  to  their  brother  despite  their  fierce  rivalry.  What  largely  formed  Frieza  into  the  “monster”  they  are  is  lies  more  in  their  nature.  Frieza  is  not  human,  does  not  conform  to  human  standards  of  culture/behavior/morality  &  is  from  an  entirely  separate  evolutionary  chain.   It  also  should  be  noted  that   Berryblue  was  Frieza’s  nanny  of  sorts,  she  guided  &  cared  for  them  & perhaps  spent  more  actual  time  with  them  then  their  actual  parent  from  their  birth,  on  to  present  day.  As  a  result  she  seems  to  have  a  closeness  to  Frieza  no  other  creature  has  ever  had.  They  would  not  call  her  a  ‘mother’  or  be  caught  likening  her  to  one  for  a  number  of  reasons  ( despite  the  true  likeness ), however,  but  she  holds  a  “rank”  no  one  else  outside  of  Frieza’s  class  or  species  could  ever  posses  as  a  result.  

#⊰ ° ‧: ｡* ⚘ 💀 ━◞ Out Of Character ⊱ #⊰ ° ‧: ｡* ⚘ 💀 ━◞ 𝓜𝓾𝓼𝓮 ↝ Frieza ⊱ #⊰ ° ‧: ｡* ⚘ 💀 ━◞ 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 ↝ Frieza ⊱ #frieza headcanons #⊰ ° ‧: ｡* ⚘ 💀 ━◞ 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓶 ↝ Dragon Ball ⊱ #I have so many more of these but I have to dig them up cos Ive most actively wrote frieza on twitter LMFAO

[chronal-anomaly]

Aldo Torres was considered one of the greats in the piloting world. He was a pilot for the aviation branch of the Mexican Navy, where he specialized in transport and aerial combat, flying some of the fastest jets in the world with relative ease.

After years spent flying for the Navy during the Omnic uprising, he retired with honors and moved to the UK to follow his daughter to Oxford University, and work with the Royal Air Force. His position there consisted of standby instructor, designated to work with the 'outliers', providing guidance to those who traditional schooling didn't exactly work for.

He was well-respected as an instructor and spent another 10 years with the RAF. After a diagnosis of early-onset Parkinson's, Aldo was forced into a retirement - which obviously didn't sit well with him, being the career soldier he was. Not content to quietly retire, he remained 'on call', working continuing to work for the RAF as a civilian when possible.

However, when Lena Oxton signed on, things changed. While she was okay at school, the long hours spent in hard chairs didn't translate to her learning style. That, plus a shaky school history, meant that traditional education was nigh impossible. Despite this, Lena, and her instructors, knew that she had the aptitude for the skies. Eventually, after another exam failed, the head of her company called Aldo and requested that he meet with Lena.

They were of similar mindsets. Both focused, with their head in the clouds. He was able to adapt the material to her learning, with more hands-on training, and active movement incorporated with her lessons. Aldo put Lena on a fast-track to get her into the air, seeing the gift that she had.

Lena's intelligent, though it may not seem to be the case at first. While she can't tell you how she knows something, she's able to complete long and complicated physics-based equations in her head. Ask her to show her work? Impossible.

Aldo understood this, and created a path to success for her that would allow Lena to be in the skies as quickly as possible. This decision led to the fact that Lena 'graduated' and was sworn in as a corporal, but never achieved a degree from the RAF academy.

After she graduated, the Parkinson's worsened. He was retired for good, sticking around to teach one or two more students before settling in for his twilight years. HOWEVER, it didn't stop him from joining her as her representative at Overwatch during the Slipstream selection process. He was able to watch his prodigy make it all the way to the top, eventually being able to watch her be selected for the trip.

On the day of the Slipstream, Aldo gave her a hug, tucked a cigar in her pocket, and wrapped his scarf around her neck.

"The scarf is to keep you warm in this big world, and the cigar is for when you get back. I'll be waiting, right here, for you, and we'll celebrate."

Aldo Torres passed peacefully at the age of 73, two months after Lena was lost. He died with a cigar in his pocket, and his daughter by his side.

#( headcanon. ) #this one makes me so soft omg #ask to tag #yes the scarf in that picture is his

[roleplaycharacter1shots]

character profile - Aston Bradley {the heir}

G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N Name: Aston Ethan Bradley Nickname: N/A Gender: Male Birthplace: Cornwall, UK Birthdate: October 7, 1974 Current Residence: Bradley Hall, the family estate Employer: Himself Occupation: Art dealer, owner of the Bradley Company Blood: Pureblood

A P P E A R A N C E Height: 5’ 9 Hair: Brown Eyes: Brown Dominant Hand: Right Other: Small pawprint tattoo in remembrance of a childhood dog on the inside of his left wrist

Playby: Daniel Brühl

B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N Aston is from a long line of art dealers. The Bradley Company specializes in their own line of artwork as well as being a mediator between galleries and artists. Their works range from paintings (moving and not) to sculptures from all eras. Naturally, Aston was surrounded by wealth and opportunity his entire life. He traveled often with his father, who was the head of it all.

Aston dreaded going to Hogwarts, as it meant that he wouldn’t get to travel with his parents. His mother urged him to focus on his studies even when he was home for the holidays, which made him envious of his cousin Thomas Hawkins’, especially when the younger one attended school and still got to go away to Egypt and beyond. But, he had to be the responsible older one, and he tried to not take his jealousy out on Tom. He was secretly glad, however, when he heard that Tom had disappointed his aunt with his career choices.

But Aston always had much more important things to deal with. Even though he would rather be seeing the world, he did throw himself into his work. Charms and, surprisingly, History of Magic took his fancy because of their relationships to his family’s work. He discovered that “wanting to ask more questions” relating to his “homework” permitted Aston to meet with the Bradley Company artists and learn more about their craft. The list of names he collected from those meetings Aston continues to carry and update to show his respect for them. His mother always knew her employees by name, so he learned to follow suit. Aston’s father began grooming him to take on the position as head of the company, considering how he had no other siblings to take over after both of his parents’ passings. Most of the job unfortunately involved a lot of accounting and desk work, much to Aston’s chagrin. But, he is the heir, afterall.

Stefan Bradley succumbed to the flu of September 2012. He passed away peacefully at Bradley Hall with his family around him. A few months later, Aston began to notice that his mother was changing: the names she once could recall were harder to find, tremors in her hands, and going up the stairs required much more effort. Everly Bradley was diagnosed with dementia, further leaving Aston entirely in charge of the business very quickly. But Aston held his head high while also making sure that his mother was properly cared after in Bradley Hall.

One final goal that Aston needs to complete is finding his partner in life as well as business. Female or male, he does not have a preference. He would just like to find someone to settle with before his mother completely leaves his side.

C O N N E C T I O N S Parents: Stefan Bradley (father - deceased 2012), Everly Bradley (mother) Romance: Collette Kingsbury (girlfriend since late 2015) Notables: Thomas Hawkins’ cousin (mothers are sisters)

O T H E R T H I N G S Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin House Wand: Aspen, twelve and a half inches, dragon core, reasonably supple Patronus: Whippet Sexuality: Bisexual Spoken Languages: English, German, Italian Likes: Spending time with his artists and his dogs (current: grey Whippet named Cassius) Dislikes: Stress, being stuck in the office Song: The Tudors' Main Titles - Trevor Morris

#my characters #character development #creative writing #daniel brühl #hp community #hp rp #hp roleplay #tgs wide #art dealer #slytherin #bisexaul #profile #character sheet #fictional characters #character design

[voice-of-bennuma]

A Couple of Notes

In The Crossing (current WIP novel) I hesitate to refer to the camp of travelers as refugees or exiles, since although they left their home in order to escape war and being threatened (also raided, plundered, etc) by local armed forces and mercenary types... they weren't specifically evicted or told to leave, nor forced out because of their culture, race, beliefs, or any other such sort of thing. Not... directly. It was more like, they wanted to remain peacefully neutral and not join the fighting, and being in small unfortified villages and hamlets in the countryside, they simply were easy targets for people who wanted to pick up supplies in quick raids... because of where they lived, and not because of who they were (except for their choice to be neutral). The survivors of the raids found these conditions intolerable, and decided to pack up and leave instead of moving to join any of the (sort of) neighboring fortified burgs that were at war with each other. This doesn't quite fit with a lot of what I read about current common definitions of 'refugees' and I don't wish to confuse people nor in any way minimize the plight of people in the real world on planet Earth who have become refugees or exiles because of their religion/beliefs, culture, ethnicity, or other sorts of differences. I also hesitate to refer to them as 'nomads' because although they have taken up a nomadic sort of existence, it is more of a temporary thing (they hope) like pilgrims or pioneers traveling out of necessity while they seek out a new home to settle in, and not an inherited, cultural way of life like I think the word 'nomad' usually denotes. Likewise, I don't want to refer to them as 'travelers' because it seems in some parts of Europe, that word (in English) specifically is used (perhaps as slang) to refer to the Romani people and their cultural way of life, which is also not what is going on in The Crossing. Sometimes in hash tags I am putting 'traveling people' because I am not sure what else to refer to their current nomadic sort of way of life as, since although they might accurately be referred to as a type of pioneers (in Bennuma) that term could also be confused with a specific time period and the geographic area of North America... and similar issues with the term 'pilgrims' exist, in addition to that term typically also designating having religious reasons for traveling, or 'making a pilgrimage'.

Perhaps eventually I might figure out what would be a term to use that I'd consider ideal, or at least acceptable. For now, it's something of a muddle to me.

Also note: regretfully, I cannot currently be sure to post updates to the Crossing WIP novel @bennuma-crossing according to a regular schedule (as also, the informational, sometimes-containing-short-stories, worldbuilding sort of background blog @legends-of-bennuma) but I am trying to do so without huge gaps in time between posts. After section 1.7 of The Crossing, I plan to get into what I currently consider to be chapter 2... the novel being more or less a first draft, someday after the thing is completed perhaps the novel will be divided differently chapter-wise, I don't know yet... admittedly I sometimes get in a muddle over where to make chapter divisions.

#bennuma notes #considering terminology #bennuma crossing

[merrill90mohammad]

Christian Dior Ladies's Belts For Sale

For your convenience, we settle for returns for on-line orders at Steve Madden stores . We gladly accept returns of unworn merchandise within 30 days of supply. As 2022 unfurls, we’re satisfied the enchantment of K-pop stars will proceed to open doorways for exciting collaborations and legendary type moments. Let us know what your favourite style story of 2021 was by tagging @envimediaco on Twitter. In 2017, Fendi released a customization store in collaboration with e-commerce platform Farfetch for made-to-order purse designs. wikipedia belt phoenet.tw replica dior belt Fendi's fragrances had been discontinued after the top of the brand's beauty license with Gucci Group's YSL Beauté division in 2005. Named after Dior’s runway present in 1947, the collection pays homage to the Houndstooth motif, which dates back to the early days of the House, and was initially impressed by Christian Dior’s love for all things British. This anglophile ardour led the design to gradually seem across Dior’s wardrobe items, including iconic feminine silhouettes. Today, the storied print is beautifully reinterpreted with a sophisticated, fashionable twist. If you’re a sucker for the plaid print, try this Burberry scarf as a substitute. The shade provides a novel twist to the unique design. It makes it a statement accent, which helps your outfit rather than overpowers it. Maybe this was cool again in 2016, but now it’s time for these large monogram belts to retire peacefully. Yes, your Hermes and Louis Vuitton Belts must also transfer to Florida and start golf with its slightly more affordable Gucci sibling. For a complete understanding, the specialists examined regulatory situations, market entry strategies, industry best practices, pricing strategies, the technological and shopper setting, sales and demand prospects. It additionally included development estimates to supply users with correct statistics and information. [newline]The report will present readers with a broader and transparent picture of the general scenario. Layer any of the classic colour pairings with neutrals for a monochromatism or jewel tones for a extra dimensional look. For a timeless chain belt, accent model B-Low The Belt has you coated. Hermès is the crème-de-la-crème of luxurious, so it ought to be no surprise that the brand takes this class. The Kelly 18 belt is subtle in that it has a low-profile sliding system, somewhat than conventional development with holes, for a one-size-fits-all belt that may be worn on the waist or on the hips. Snag it with rose gold, gold, or silver hardware, relying on your taste. Ahead, you’ll find our record of best designer belts obtainable now. Finding the proper belt for your body sort and elegance is not all the time seamless. So, we took it upon ourselves, and a little help from lifestyle skilled Preston Konrad, to curate an inventory of really helpful belts from the most popular and respected manufacturers. The 35 mm Dior Montaigne belt strap is crafted in blue Dior Oblique jacquard and reverses to navy blue grained calfskin. To decide yourDior belt dimension, Check your jeanssizeor Dior Pants measurement as a reference. Alternatively, measure round your waistline or hips to find out yourDior belt size.Dior beltsare measured from the end of the buckle to the middle hole. Braided belts or belts made out of synthetic or Vegan leathers much more so. When thinking again over the exciting elements of 2021, one that involves thoughts is the scenes born out of the countless reveals and collections the fashion world treated us to. And, whereas there have been many must-buy pieces that stuffed out the collection of our favourite designers, none caught our eyes fairly like Dior‘s Vibe baggage. In 1994, Paola Fendi handed over the presidency of the corporate to her youthful sister Carla. Silvia Venturini Fendi, daughter of Anna, additionally joined the style home in 1994 and has since been the artistic director for accessories and males's lines. The worlds of K-pop and style have always been carefully intertwined. With the genre’s worldwide progress, this relation has advanced over time. In their journey to the mainstream, K-pop idols have starred in loads of noteworthy sartorial moments that made it to the headlines.

#dior belt replica #dior belt #christian dior belt #dior belt womens #christian dior womens belt #dior womens beltchristian dior saddle belt #christian dior mens belt