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hiwofumi · 2 years

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𝚊 𝚞 𝚐 𝚞 𝚜 𝚝

Summer love with the Sano boys. Izana’s ver.

For context, the Sanos own a beach house. It’s the same setting for each boy, but on different occasions.

18+ ⭒ MDNI ⭒ 1.7k words

starring ⭒ Manila Arc Izana ⭒ AFAB Reader

tags ⭒ Fluff and smut ⭒ Reader is a bikini wearer ⭒ Whipped Izana ⭒ Public sex ⭒ Finger sucking (Izana does it) ⭒ Ice play ⭒ Face-sitting ⭒ Cowgirl ⭒ His hair is tied

note ⭒ Final entry for @fueledbysano’s Sano Collab! ⭒ Big thank you to the kind @muchoccino for beta reading! Giving you the biggest squeeze ♡

network ⭒ @tokyometronetwork wasn’t mine to lose

versions ⭒ Shinichiro’s ver.⠀Mikey’s ver.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗

𝚆𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗’ 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝

You lace your fingers over your stomach, fidgeting demurely. “Is this really necessary?”

Your feet are flat on the sand as you stand in front of a lounging Izana, his body laying sideways on a picnic blanket, his head propped up on one elbow. He eyes you with an eagerness subdued by a lax expression. “Yes. You’ve been keeping it from me too long. I think I deserve a show.”

As if to agree, the wind blows the lower end of your short beach kimono up, granting him a brief look at the garment underneath. You catch his eyes glimmer in excitement, a pair of amethysts under the morning sun.

Before you found yourselves a spot along the shore, you were alone in his room, admiring yourself in a fine bikini you chose with him at the mall. When you first picked it up, you held it against your figure, and he scanned you from head to toe, then he smirked, shooting you a thumbs up. He surprised you at the counter when he purchased it himself. He also surprised you when he insisted in the following days that you present yourself in it before you went to the beach.

“No,” you said for the nth time with a lilt of amusement. After you’ve starved him for days, he was prepared to feast when you walked out of his room this morning.

But to his utter disappointment, what he saw upon whipping his head was another layer of concealment—one he wouldn’t deny looked ravishing on you, but was so . . . hindering.

He decided, then, that it would be the last time the sparkle of anticipation in his eyes faltered.

He waits in front of you now, his hair in a high ponytail which exhibits his clean undercut. His fringe is left at the front, veiling his forehead. His earrings dangle from both ears. He wears only a pair of tropical-patterned swimming trunks, his chest tan without having to bask in the sun.

He flaps his hand impatiently, beckoning you to continue. “Go on,”

At this point, you’re inclined to admire his dedication to this. You think to yourself, Maybe I have been teasing him for too long.

So you put it to an end. You take a deep breath, and with your eyes holding him, you tug on the string securing your robe. When you shed it off, your skin sparkles under the sun, and you reveal to him your golden body kissed by a pretty two-piece.

Here is your moment of truth: his eyes double in size, and his mouth hangs open. You can’t hear it, but you can tell from his lip movement that he mouths, “Holy shit,”

He shifts to a cross-legged sitting position. He seems to have forgotten how to close his mouth, shaping it into a smile you’re grateful to see. It thrusts a boldness into you: you cross one leg over the other, jut your hip out slightly, then put your hand on your hip. The wind, seemingly in favor of you this time, blows your hair back, painting the full image of a beach goddess.

You laugh sheepishly, aware of the risk that you look ridiculous. But you genuinely enjoy yourself, and the prolonging might not have been for naught, after all. “Here’s your show. What do you think?”

His dominance, his cool, and his words—they all seem to have evaporated in the heat.

He bats his eyes, seemingly his last resort to revert to reason. “You’re perfect.”

You grin wider, then you prance forward and tackle him, knocking the air out of his lungs as you fall skin-to-skin.

✱

You’ve mellowed since then. You lie next to each other, you on your stomach, him on folded arms under his head. The sky is a strong, clear blue, a strange but welcome drape over his purple eyes. Your head is dipped into a book, hence your lack of attention for the last three ice cubes he’s tossed into his mouth. They came from a cooler of beers he carried along when you left the house to lie in the sand.

His head lolls to your side. He watches your side profile, starting from the curl of your lashes, ending in the balls of your feet. He knows this sight well. You read like this often; when you laze at the park in the afternoon or wait for him to wake up in the morning. He would be well-rested after a long night of lovemaking, finding you naked and partially covered in sheets, a book on your pillow.

He might have grown attached to this image of you. His stomach warms the longer he admires.

He likes the point where your back arches, starting at your ribs and moving upward. He thinks about what you would look like on top of him, here and now, rolling your hips with the call of his name. He gulps the last of his melted ice down before the thought parches him. When your eyes flick to him, he considers taking another cube from the cooler.

“Yes?” you smile faintly, having felt the intensity of his stare. You reach for his face and stroke the corner of his lip with your thumb. The pattern of his breath changes, you note from how it fans your skin, but his face remains unswayed.

With a slight turn of his head, he takes your thumb into his mouth. You jump at the sudden prickle of wet and cool. “Why’s your mouth so cold?”

“I’ve been eating ice cubes,” he confesses, his tongue hitting the pad of your thumb as he speaks.

“Why have you been eating ice cubes?” you tip your head in question.

“Because,” his eyes trail to the picnic blanket, “you’re hot.”

He meets your eyes again to await a reaction. You blink, then you turn your head away from him and snort. “Please,” you say amusedly.

You close your book with your vacant hand and push it aside, drawing all your attention to him. His tongue continues to swirl around your thumb, indulging in your taste. “How’s it feel?”

“Cold,” you tell him. “I like it.”

He pulls back, leaving your thumb coated in spit. “Would you like it if you felt it elsewhere?”

His hand glides over the back of your thigh, tucking in-between. He rubs your sensitivity delicately. Heat sparks in your nerves.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?” you manage to utter in response.

“This whole time.” he affirms. “You’ve just been so . . . fuck,”

You carefully move up from your spot. “Ran out of words?” his eyes follow as your knees straddle his head, your groin above his face. “That’s okay. You won’t be needing any.”

He hastens to tug your bikini down, clasping your hips to pull you toward him. When his cool tongue meets your slick cunt, you cry.

You rock against his mouth, the cold accompanied by his warm breath, making for a wakeful sensation that drives you to curl your fist in his hair. His tongue flicks your throbbing clit, flattens over your fluttering lips, and you mewl as you roll harsher, tingles shooting down your legs and up your stomach. “Izana,” you gasp when his hands move to your ass and squeeze.

He relishes the sweetness, the dripping honey he takes into his tongue. His gaze falls to your arched neck, to your gaping mouth where noises tumble relentlessly. You bow your head to see him, admiring how your fingers pull his fringe backward and unmask his forehead, where thin sweat sheens. It glistens like his mesmeric eyes, like his pillow-soft lips as they press zealously against your cunt.

His lips pucker over your slit, then they trail up to your clit, sucking in hard patterns. Your knees draw toward each other until they press his temples, your thighs clenching as the heat intensifies. Your vacant hand joins the one in his hair, tugging off the tie that holds it together; the more you rock above him and rake your fingers through, the more his wavy strands spread across the blanket. Your nails mark his scalp in fervor, messing his hair even more.

Your eagerness swells, and you bounce as you roll over his tongue. You stain the edges of his mouth with the fluid you leak for him, his nose meeting your pubic mound. He says in his muffled voice, “’M hard,” and although your mind spins in circles, you comprehend it.

You slow down, and your hand loosens from his hair. “Let me,” you tell him, your chest heaving.

He lets go of your ass, then you crawl backward, aligning yourself to his groin. You eye the tent centering his trunks, and without hesitance, you pull the garter down. His erection has a tiny drop at the tip, and you run your thumb over it, spreading it down his cock. “Fuck,” he curses, moaning with the movement of your hand before you position your entrance above his tip. You lower yourself carefully, shivering with him as you do.

You pause to take in his size, eyeing each other with panting mouths. “You’re so hot,” he exhales. “I could come just by looking at you.”

A smirk suits your face, and your palms flatten on his stomach. “Fill me,” you say as you grind on him. You moan the further he stretches your cunt, exhaling with length when he presses your sweet spot. “Oh,” you breathe sharply. “Fuck. That’s it.”

He grunts, clutching your hips again, adding force to every rock of your hips down his cock. While your skin makes harsh contact, your fluid stains his balls and inner thighs. He hears the sound of slapping even amidst the waves; it has him losing touch with his sanity, adding weight to his falling eyelids.

“Izana,” you cry above him, “you fuck me so good.”

Your bodies strain to the point of shivering, and your rapid pace spills vowels out of his mouth. Your cunt clenches around his throbbing cock, and you lose your fiery rhythm amidst the rush to orgasm. His stomach is hot, his chest fluttering.

“Come inside me,” you whine. With a loud groan, he releases, filling you on the inside.

You slow down on top of him before stopping altogether. You rest your weight on him, and he embraces you as you pant heavily. You feel his chest expand and contract against yours.

His palm glides over your back, soothing you with each stroke. “You’re the loveliest.”

You smile over the crook of his neck, nuzzling his skin affectionately. “Thank you. Let’s have some beer.”

#tokyo revengers x reader #izana x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyorev smut #izana smut #tokyo rev fluff #izana fluff #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo rev x you #tokyorev x you #izana x you #sanocollab

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lymoncat · 6 months

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Um ... my first writing ig?

um i guess ill do a Levi fluff headcannon...

um idk how to start this...

I feel like Levi is very soft behind closed doors, people often recognize him as his role in the show or his looks, Levi dealt with a lot in his past and struggles with people who only like with for his looks or appearance and not for you he is on the inside. That is until he met you.

Levi is scared to fall in love at first, due to the environment he is in and the struggles of losing everyone he cared about in his past he is hesitant to let another person in, he is scared that he will lose them as well.

When he first confesses his feelings for you he is nervous and fidgety. I mean who wouldn't be!? you are truly breathtaking and perfect in his eyes. he stumbles over his words a lot and messes up on his words, he is absolutely adorable in this state.

He is very affectionate behind closed doors and doesn't do PDA. He gets annoyed when Hange interrupts your alone time. He doesn't mind Erwin tho... (before he died in s3).

He may not seem or act like it but he loves cuddles, especially when you run your fingers over his undercut (i would know cuz i have one, it's very soothing). He doesn't mind being big or small spoon he is fine with both.

After expeditions expect a lot of cuddles and affection. He likes to hold you close to let him know that you're real or that you're still alive. He still is a clean freak so don't think that he won't care if you're dirty or if you leave things unorganized or all over the floor. You help him clean his office all the time as well too, by this time you should be really good at cleaning.

He taught you how to make his tea properly and often invites you to have tea with him, he also surprisingly will sometimes let you drink some of his special tea and nice tea cups.

You are the only person who can enter his office without knocking, he likes to spend as much time with you as he can and tries to finish paperwork which makes him pissed off because he can't hold you or enjoy your presence when he has to do damn paperwork all the time. You often have to convince him to finish it later and drag him away from his desk of paperwork.

Hange caught you guys kissing ONCE and will not let him live it over. She constantly teases him about it but she totally ships it (so do i). He learned to lock the door when you two are spending time together. He treats you like a fucking goddess (or a god if your a boy). He is very sweet, caring, and gentle as if afraid to hurt you.

There was this one time where he actually surprisingly let you wear his cravat, mainly because you wouldn't stop begging him or as he says "annoying him."

He calls you his brat or trouble maker, idiot, and moron. but he doesn't mean any of them. He doesn't treat you any differently around others but its a different story when its just you two.

He is hesitant to open up to you at first but after a while he did and it became frequent and normal. He feels safe and comfortable around you and his gaze is softer when he looks at you but no one else notices.

He is just overall a caring boyfriend and would do anything for you and to keep you safe.

#aot x reader fluff #aot headcanons #levi ackerman x reader #levi headcanons #levi ackerman #levi aot

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raina-clipse423 · 5 months

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*Clears throat* I've had this in my mind for some time now ever since I noticed it.

If I get nickle... For every character who's a goddess/can be considered one, has access to literally everything like every information of their worlds that they can willingly delete/erase from History, has digital/computer-esque abilities, may or may not read minds...

Has the ability to affect and control dreams so in a sense get in peoples heads, putting them in some loop/samsara for 1000 years if they wish to...

Generally considered the, if not the most powerful beings of their worlds. And may or may not be down bad for the protag/MC and would do anything to keep them in their worlds wether it be driving others to commiting or eternal slumber

And have green motifs 🧍🏽‍♀️

I'd have three nickles. Which isn't much, but it's werid that it happened twice!

Here's them semi-interacting!! They have lots of thoughts!

This was churning in my head so much that at some point my brain decided "Lmao what if we make an au where Nahida is their child or something?" But of course I gave it a light punch cuz that's too chaotic

Full page undercut 👇🏽

Also yes, I have to alter Nahida's skin color too cuz she's so painfully pale in contrast to her already rather pale outfit (I DEFINITELY DID NOT FORGET THE GREEN FADES ON HER HAIR PRETEND IT'S THERE!! AAHHHH)

Ngl I haven't been that active in the Twisted Wonderland community cuz of the hiatus and not being Japanese (I don't get as interested in the events sadly, I only glimpse at them thru other means ;;) I am still waiting for more of my man's Malleus content

Here's a blank version too cuz why not!

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shadedsecrets · 8 months

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I realized today... that I can't wait to see where Amos Ellery ends up and I have more predictions about how that'd go.

Do I think he's going to be showing up frequently? Likely only as frequently as we check in on the rest of the Parents Squad, not often until thicker plot entanglement. Is he going to have important things to do and plot-impacting choices to make? Ooooh, most assuredly. And I am most eager to see which garden path he grouches down.

From my perspective... there are two options, and both of them are so very very fun.

This man has already been asked to and made some hard choices. He would not be a confidant of That Bird Goddess if he hadn't committed. The man knows his son has been dead for two months and that his body will never be found. And he isn't enthused about it, even grumbles a complaint, but that is as far as it gets. He reaffirms his loyalty. This is a man... that clings to the belief that seeing whatever this is through will be worth it in the end.

He has put his eggs in this basket and come hell of high water, he will defend those choices.

.....for now.

We don't currently know why Amos was upset about Irving not getting a body double that could at least be brought home. And I can think of a few reasons other than caring for his son that could fit that bill, but again, we don't know. With how hostile he got when our favorite Grandmother of Chaos implied he didn't, I do think he loves Irving, and expresses his affections... differently.

So we have a grumpy man currently working for the assumed Big Bad who seems like he may be loyal out of principle, fear, and honestly not believing there to be another option. He professes that he will do whatever it takes to see this through, even something like being implicit in the murders of his family and friends...

So what do we think is going to happen when news inevitably breaks of some Really Funky Seaghosts that look like those missing nobles? Yeah, the Phantomarine Crew are going to do their best to stay out of sight, but if a Pavel needs defending? Screw that, protect the baby! Let's face it, the boy with a stigmatized condition and a Godly Bounty on his head is going to be at risk of harm around people and in the wilds in equal measure. But what will the Parents do with this knowledge...

Personally... I hope Amos will be given chances at choosing something else, and he will double down the first couple times. He is a man of conviction. He does not read as someone who gets shaken easily, expression barely changing, voice rarely raised... Changing tracks just like that for likely only vague information would undercut all of that unless he was shown to take the time to VERY thoroughly research it on his own. I doubt he would be given the time to, however. No no... it's going to be the last time he has a choice that would be interesting.

It would be a choice that he cannot take back; most of the cards will be on the table and he will not be able to feign ignorance of the consequences. And he would have two options... Continue on this current course, or finally reach his limit and do ANYTHING else. Either he goes down as a man who finally tried to stand up to a Deity, or as someone who could not accept he had done the wrong thing.

What can I say? I am a sucker for these sorts of stories. An antagonist that just can't accept they did something wrong for a shitty reason is so cathartic to watch go down, just as good as someone finally taking a stand and responsibility for their actions and striving to dig back out of a very deep hole is.

Am I reading too far into a side character? Maybe! But he seems to be set up as the actual right hand of the Big Bad and is a protagonist's FATHER. He has some stuff to do here... And I see some veeeeeery fun flags.

#phantomarine #theory #character analysis #Amos Ellery #...well I guess I do this now.#fuck it tho it's fun and the story is fun!#will i do more?#only Cheth knows

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corviisquire · 13 hours

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Ranne is the When the Bough Breaks to Milborough’s Fields of Elation

Ranne is the Blood Sport to Milborough’s The Night Does Not Belong to God

@moonchild-in-blue @mr-orion (I tried I really did) Me trying to write undercut :b

(News of the Mother Goddess’s death spreads quickly. Tension in the god sphere is higher than ever and it’s a matter of hours before the world erupts in chaos)

- - - - - - -

“Fearful?”, Milborough inquires, breaking the silence between the two deities. The forest had been deathly quiet ever since Ranne’s arrival.

“No”, they respond.

The autumn god glances to Ranne, eyes scrutinizing in their face. Searching for something. Anger? Anxiety? Excitement? Ranne was such a puzzle to him. An enigma. One he hoped to solve soon.

Ranne lets out a huff as they stand, armor clanking. They stretch out their wingspan, the feathers shuddering as they fold again.

“Leaving so soon?”, His tone playful but Ranne knows the longing he feels. Unlike themselves, Milborough was quite the open book. At least when they were together.

“You should leave as well. We both know what’s bound to happen”, They say, eyes narrowing at the god beside them.

“Can’t we cherish what little peace we have left?”

“We did.”

“Ranne-“

“I despise this as much as you do”, Ranne turns their body to Milborough. A light forest breeze runs through their hair, speckles of the sun creeping through the trees illuminating their face. Milborough stands with Ranne, taking their armored hand in his.

He brings their hand to his mouth, gently pressing his lips against it. Ranne’s eyes are fixated on his act of affection.

“I hope I’ll be able to do this again”, He says, rubbing his thumb over the obsidian colored gauntlet in his hand.

I do as well.

Ranne let their eyes linger on Milborough’s amber hued ones.

“I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve spent too much time here already”, Ranne says, pulling their hand out of Milborough’s embrace.

“Stay out of harms way, alright?”, Milborough asks, sadness in his eyes as Ranne turns to leave.

They stop in their tracks before they reply, barely above a whisper, “You as well.”

Then the autumn god watches as his winterborn accomplice departs, leaving frost under each step they take.

He wishes he didn’t feel the warm air return around him and that he could bask in the frigid air that accompanied Ranne wherever they roamed.

- - - - - - -

shhshduduejdhdhidis gonna kms. I write like it’s fanfiction and not a legit story with dynamic and round original characters that have faults and unique designs and-

Critique please someone tell me how to make writing nice

#Spotify #attempted writing #ranne my beloved #oc #lor #lore

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theminecraftbee · 2 years

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side note of me sort of liking the idea that the magical girls by the time they’re all at the point where they can transform on their own have reached a level of mage where, even in civilian form, people look at them and just get this weird feeling. in magical girl form? people have trouble remembering they’re human sometimes. there’s something otherworldly about the magic they have to them that make them seem like something that doesn’t quite fit in the ordinary world. they just don’t move quite right, there’s just something so BIG about their presence, there’s just… people almost feel like they’re some kind of demigod when they see one of them from a distance and are often overwhelmed when meeting one of them up close for the first time.

except scar is that first magical girl and for a long time, the lone one. scar, not anyone else. and if scar is anything, everything about how he talks and shouts and lives is unbearably human. he doesn’t do it on purpose; jellie thinks he doesn’t even know he comes across so otherworldly while transformed in the first place to think to try to undercut it at all. but most people agree: your first time seeing the magical girl, you think she’s a goddess.

then you see her the second time and she’s bleeding or she’s awkwardly hiding her face in her hands or she’s laughing or she’s mispronouncing the name of the street she’s on or she’s—all of these things that add together, and you realize she’s just a person who’s been burdened with unimaginable power.

if anyone more cold had been that first mage, the city probably wouldn’t be as forgiving of the magical girls as they are. but there’s something endearing about someone who looks like they should be a terrible angel when you see them out of the corner of your eye, but looks almost more human than you are once you finally look at them head-on, despite the fact you just watched them get slammed down ten stories and get up from it with nothing more than a broken nose and a few bruises.

“and he doesn’t even do it on purpose,” jellie says.

“nope,” cub says. “he’d be so bad at it if he were doing it on purpose.”

jellie laughs.

#magical girl scar #I like my magical girls a LITTLE eldritch a LITTLE beyond this mortal plane #but also it’s SCAR #I think it would be hard to keep seeing him as a paragon after talking to him for five minutes #anyway I think by contrast grian knows full well he comes across as disconcerting and terrifying and deliberately uses that to his advantag

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consul-valerius · 8 months

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Submission Looks Beautiful on You

In a sudden spark of devotion, Lucio finally deals Sam a pleasant surprise that triggers long-gone memories. What other way can he repay the count than showing him a good time in return?

Rating: 18+ 🍋 Minors DNI

Word Count: 2328 (be proud of me that it’s under 5k u_u)

Content includes: canon complicit violence; established dom/sub dynamics; ownership kink/possessive language; daddy dom elements; light exhibitionism/public setting; knife play; general rough play/choking; vaginal fingering; oral play; Sam and Lucio being Sam and Lucio (aka bastard men with little to no morals lmao); T4T (some gendered language used [i.e. cunt, dick, etc.])

A/N: I got high and finally finished this LMAO was thinking a lot about Lucio’s possessiveness and devotion that he shows in his reverse ending and how it is pretty similar to how Sam felt towards Mara—and thus we got character developing finger fucking LMAO header is from the game and obviously edited (by moi✨)

Preview undercut because Tumblr formatting was hell for this one LOL😤💕 Full linked in the title on AO3 !

It wasn’t abnormal for Sam to receive some inane, snide comment from a nameless nobleman. When he was a bit younger, he relished their discomfort with his mere existence. A nobody suddenly appeared in their most esteemed circles seemingly out of thin air. They all had spent years kissing someone else’s ass, playing a game with no rules, only for Sam to sit amongst them with not so much a care in the world. It was as if this came naturally to him—and they knew it did not.

It was that alienation, that seemingly obvious marker on his forehead—that was always present to others but never himself—that wore on his nerves. His initial glee had long subsided. He couldn’t deny the queasy mortification about being made to face his upbringing (as distant as that may be) and, without it needing to be spoken out loud, understand that he was worthless in the eyes of this crowd. Decades now had passed, and yet the same prolonged stares followed him, the tittering of gossip loud enough to be heard like a gnat in one’s ear—there, but impossible to trace.

Still, Sam had learned that he could not fight every dimwitted fool that turned their nose up to him. He had exhausted himself silly trying to do it before. No, he had to be mindful of when he could have his “moments.” For instance, he could not afford to get into a scuffle at a gala Nadia was hosting. His life was easiest when she was content with him—he knew she would never break her silence to tattle to her mother, but she was crafty enough to find other ways to make his day hellish without her help. Like mother like daughter—all royals were the same: annoying .

However, what Nadia could not control was Lucio. Try as she might, she simply could not wrangle him. Of course, in the bedroom, he worshipped her like a goddess. That went without saying. But in the light of day? Lucio was an unruly pup, and Nadia was ready to toss him out. It was cute in its own right, and it made Sam’s ability to tame the Count all the more satisfying.

Lucio was his.

The thought never occurred to him until Lucio was snarling in the face of some diplomat, a blade pressing into the squirming, squealing man’s throat, his gauntlets pinning him to the wall. Despite his scathing words, tinged with such sharp teeth, Lucio was smiling , glowing almost. He had reacted before Sam could even pretend to laugh, before he could even fantasize about doing the very same thing himself. But Lucio had known, and more importantly, cared about nothing but realizing that fantasy for him.

The scene was oddly nostalgic, and Sam could only stare and blink, his lips twitching into a smile as he watched those alarming blue eyes sparkle with frenzied glee.

#the arcana #the arcana lemon #count lucio #lucio morgasson #the duke #sam x lucio #bottom writes #lemon #lucio will risk it all for that dick #and sam will give it to him LOLOL

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dekarios · 3 months

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i did. a height chart thing for amity and eden and their various .. Relations

gonna talk a lil bit about the relationships undercut.......

amity and vigdis - these two have a generally unhealthy power dynamic due to amity being her direct BossTM and also. corruption things but amity is genuinely nice to vigdis.. vigdis teaches amity how to play regicide and they talk about being voidborn together.. idira often joins in (who is also dating vigdis but not amity) ur gonna see amity be the Most Normal around vigdis

amity and vladaym - amity sees vladaym as something to possess and own in order to get the kasballica under her control (something she tries with all of them but vladaym is the only one to personally attract her attention ..red flag warning signs RUN). eventually amity completely corrupts him, makes him renounce all faith, patrons and god, except her. who he will worship as a living goddess called the Great Beacon... and yeah he does <3

amity and pasqal - amity seeks to corrupt pasqal like everyone else but she also is completely and utterly fascinated by him, the tech-priests, the adepus mechanicus and their worship of the omnissiah, so she gets pretty close to being indoctrinated by pasqal into the order. their relationship revolves her worshipping his sacred augmentations, playing directly into his faith, and he believes she is worshipping the omnissiah through him and their relationship but she's just worshipping him........

amity and marazhai - constant power struggles lead to amity taming marazhai into being her own little plaything, they enjoy torturing people together and bathing in blood and marazhai watches amity cannibalise her own crew and drink their blood and eat their brains and then they do nasty things together :) they are simply terrible! if you see them together, run!

amity and uralon - i need to progress more in the game to solidify these two but my current idea is uralon acting in the same way abelard does for the rogue trader except amity is now a chaos sorcerer and wife to a god or something and uralon does nasties with her whenever she demands it . yaaay

eden and yrliet - oh my god thank god we're actually at something nice.. these two are the starcrossed lovers soulmates trope "me and you against the world" stuff ... they are so good for each other in that eden has infinite patience, understanding and kindness and so does yrliet.. they both have a lot of trauma and things to work through and they take their time with it . i have it set right now that they both leave at the end of the game to travel the stars together, imperium be damned . these two make me cry and make me wish love like this actually existed SLFK;SFS

#uh . im only tagging my ocs .#oc amity #oc eden #so few bald ones?? esp not bald girls?? vigdis and amity are BALD btw. so is vladaym. so is pasqal. so is uralon who actually bald yay #lots of bald people in this set up #ALSO NO PONYTAILS?? marazhai and yrliet have ponytails .#what is going on here #fray.txt

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quasieli · 9 months

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[Image description: Two drawings, both featuring my D&D character Sparks (she/he), set against a geometric patterned green and purple background. Sparks is a young, thin, gray Drow/Half-Orc with short undercut bright red hair that is pulled up into a small ponytail, orange eyes with black sclera, and a small set of orc tusks. In the first drawing, she is wearing a short sleeve red top with gold patterning, red cloth wrapping around her waist, a brown cloth belt, dark orange pants with red scale patterning, and patterned gold boots. In the second image, she is also wearing brown leather armor over her shirt, along with a short red jacket with gold trim and an emblem featuring red, orange and yellow stars arranged in a triangle, representing her goddess Lliira. Sparks is stood in three quarters profile, facing left, with her head in full profile. She is looking back over her shoulder with a confident smile on her face. End description.]

A little birdie came to visit and gave Sparks what she's always truly wanted: Freedom.

Sparks broke her warlock pact with her shitty patron and is now a Paladin of the Goddess of Joy instead ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#Eli's Art #Frostmaiden #Sparks #I'm so proud of her 😭😭#and so happy #and now she has 6 levels in paladin oh so good #baby girls been going through a lot lately she needed this #and now i can't wait for her and steris to talk about faith 🥺#it's too much i can't handle it

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deathlessathanasia · 1 year

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“Zeus’ only Iliadic claim to taming Hera is undercut by its modifier “hardly, scarcely” (spoudei). Complaining to his and Hera’s only son Ares, Zeus admits: “You have the indomitable menos of your mother Hera. Her I hardly tame with threats” (τὴν μὲν ἐγὼ σπουδῇ δάμνημ' ἐπέεσσι I. 5.892-93).”

- The Transformation of Hera: A Study of Ritual, Hero, and the Goddess in the Iliad by Joan O'Brien

#hera #zeus #the iliad #quotes #excerpts

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davheira · 4 months

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title: a bard's melancholy when: post the tinkerer where: audelie trigger warnings: none

Fifteen years is nothing for the former eladrin.

The blink of an eye, an unexpectedly long nap, a long weekend out of commission with the cold. Compared to Davheira’s long life, fifteen years are nothing.

Or they would be, in normal conditions.

There is a crucial difference between now and all the times Davhy has gotten in shenanigans he could not bullshit his way out of in a timely manner.

This time, his amata is gone.

This time, he knows Nikolai is not coming back.

There is much unfinished between the two, their last meeting leaving Davhy befuddled yet hopeful by the druid’s words. He had felt as if he was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, that perhaps he had been remembering.

In the end, he never got his answer.

Nikolai died, and before he could even begin to grieve, he was swept away into an unending torture undercut by the devastation of knowing he had lost his love.

For years, the only hope he had left was knowing that Evan was still alive.

Then that too was taken from him, suddenly and painfully.

He had known his son was gone as soon as it had happened.

They say grief can kill a fey.

For a long moment, he considered finding out if it would be the same for an elf.

Then, he remembered his promise to Niko, back before he had left for the troupe’s quest.

Perhaps he would never be able to see Niko again, perhaps he had broken his promise to him once more, but Davhy had long decided to keep his promise if he could.

And he could, even if the grief of loss was heavier and more painful than being consumed by Zahrya’s blood orchard.

Davheira endures, placing all his faith on Sehanine and praying to his goddess to see her moonlight once more.

His prayers are answered in the shape of an astral bomb and suddenly he is free, in a world he does not know how to live in.

He avoids thinking about it, focusing instead on fighting what is before him. The fight it’s an eternity, it’s all he knows.

It’s what kills him.

He opens his eyes with a start, lupine shape jogging next the the Titan he had seen fall and he freezes, unable to believe his eyes.

Forsaken Rome is no more.

Before his gaze he sees the Rome that was lost to the gods.

He could weep.

He could sing.

He does neither, too dumbstruck by the change to gather his thoughts.

Davheira follows Aurora into the Fey Forest, and helps the survivors, too busy with his duties to think about anything else.

Purposefully busy, and desiring to avoid thinking about those who died, the grief that came from it and the reality that now he is faced.

For weeks, he works with Aurora, he watches the birth of a realm, avoiding the pain and the grief until he can no longer do so.

He is appointed ambassador to the Senate.

He has to face the people that he lost.

He doesn’t quite know how to do that.

#{ drabble } and the only story he doesn't tell is his own #{ musings } the wind is howling in the mountains tonight

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saniwarena · 24 hours

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I saw some discussions about how Rishe is getting closer to Arnold with each loop so I want to note them down. (I didn't notice them myself but I want to keep track)

Undercut since spoilers

1st time: Merchant

CoD: died in war, which Arnold start, to our knowledge, he's not in the scene.

2nd time: Healer

CoD: died in plague cause by war, again, Arnold is not in the scene.

3rd time: Alchemist

CoD: unknown

4th time: Maid

Cod: kill by fire in the church, which is start by Arnold himself.

Arnold is IN the scene this time.

5th time: Hunter / spy

CoD: died in the battlefield when her side is fighting his side in the forest, Arnold is IN the scene, but he is not the direct cause of her death.

6th time: Knight

CoD: stab though the heart by Arnold.

Also, there's this one tiny thing about how Rishe wants to visit Galkhein, but can't in the 1st life cos of war, and stil can't in all the other times.

And she end up here this time.

That's ... Way too much of a coincidence for a plot.

Is this the mysterious Goddess doing? But why to Rishe and no one else?

(or if there's someone else who had the same thing but used it ill, so Rishe is giving the gift in hopes she'd use it well?)

#7th time loop the villainess enjoys a carefree life married to her worst enemy #7th time loop #rishe x arnold #arnold hein #rishe irmgard weitzner #arnold x rishe #food for thought #ideas

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mvalentine · 2 years

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You Are My Sun, My Moon & All My Stars- Ethan Ramsey x MC (Lana Brooks)

Summary: Ethan Ramsey wants to take his girlfriend out on a date. Except he doesn't tell her the where, the what or the why.

Warning: Disgustingly fluffy and domestic (ew). Also some innuendos thrown in here & there because this is Ethan and Lana we're talking about.

Word Count: 1.6K

Author’s Note: My lovely sis @the-pale-goddess sent me this prompt a while ago - "Lana’s finishing her shift when Ethan surprises her with a mysterious date invitation, refusing to reveal any details. How does she react? What has Grumpsey planned for them? 👀💖" and I may have gotten slightly carried away <3

"Are you seriously not going to tell me where we're going?"

"No."

"Okay well, how about this- what if I try to guess where you're taking me, and if I get it right you have to let me know."

Her boyfriend lets out an exasperated sigh, fingers on the wheel itching to pinch the bridge of his nose as he so often does.

Her smile turns wicked at that, a full-blown grin now adorning her features. If she's being truly honest, she really isn't that fussed about uncovering the details of said surprise. She knows that whatever Ethan has in store for the night will undoubtedly be great-- what with him being a meticulous planner and a perfectionist to boot.

She just enjoys pulling his leg occasionally. Okay, maybe a little more than occasionally.

With that goal in mind, her 'guesses' become absurder by the second-- as they range from a gondola ride through the waters of Venice to dinner atop the Statue of Liberty.

"Oh, I figured it out! You're planning a trek into the woods so that you can dump my body where none will be the wiser."

"Wow, I can't believe it took you so many guesses to get it right."

She sees the slight curl of his lips, and she counts it as a win.

The rest of the drive continues in comfortable silence, fingers intertwined atop the console of the car.

The silence is broken via the rumble of the engine as it powers down, signalling their arrival.

"We're here."

Her hands clasp against the door handle, eager in her excitement for what lay ahead. That was until his fingers wrapping around her arm give her pause, her confusion giving way to a coquettish smirk as she sees the familiar velvet cloth.

"You want to do it in the car, Ramsey? We didn't need to drive 30 minutes for that," a whisper of sultriness lacing her words as she leans in closer.

With mere centimetres between them, she catches the exact moment his eyes grows darker, gentle gaze morphing into an inviting tempest. But the tide subsides mere seconds later, fond exasperation undercutting the moment of tension.

"Just turn around and be patient for once, Brooks," he commands-- voice taking on an authoritative edge as he gently sweeps the blindfold across her eyes.

"Plus," he leans in, breath ghosting across the shell of her ear, "we'll have plenty of time for that later."

And with that, he envelopes her world in darkness. She catches the thud of the garage door opening, the crinkle of paper bags (she thinks?) being moved around, the rustle of.... and she's lost. Just as she's about to voice her impatience, the unmistakable sound of receding footsteps stops her in her tracks.

She resigns herself to the lengthy wait, leaning back against the plush seat as a concoction of curiosity and intrigue brews within her.

Five minutes go by.... then ten.... then fift--

The sudden whisper of wind caressing her face halts her growingly impatient countdown, as does the voice of the man now presumably infront of her.

"Growing impatient were we now?"

"Mhmm. You know me so well."

He tsks at that, tenderly lacing their fingers as he guides her out of the car and shuts the door behind them.

"Patience is a virtue, Rookie," he chides, tone reminiscent of the Ethan Ramsey she met on her very first day at Edenbrook. The Ethan Ramsey she didn't expect, the Ethan Ramsey she vehemently disliked.

But a lot can change in the span of two years.

"And time is of the essence, Dr. Ramsey," she retorts, well-aware of the eye roll her quip elicits.

The remainder of the journey lingers in silent tranquility, his arm coming to wrap around her waist as he guides her gently, delicately -- as though she were akin to something precious; as if she had hung the stars and the moon in the night sky.

She feels gravel beneath her feet, miniature pebbles and stones winding across their path, amplifying her curiosity tenfold. Until suddenly-- she doesn't. The jagged texture beneath the sole of her shoes give way to something softer, smoother.

And that's when she realizes that her boyfriend has come to a complete halt.

"We're here."

"Does that mean that I can finally take my blindfold off? The suspense is killing me," she quips, the statement only partially in jest.

The reverberating echo of laughter that follows leaves her slightly breathless, his pure unadulterated joy her favorite sound.

"Well we wouldn't want that, now would we?" And with that, he removes her blindfold.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her. Crystalline waves sway against the shore, their ebb and flow a hypnotic sound. The stars of the night sky twinkle melodically, molten moon-dust amidst endless darkness. And right there, at the center of it all, was something that made her heart twist precariously in her chest.

A picnic blanket lays stretched across golden-white sand, a myriad of tupperware boxes sitting atop the red & white gingham. The assortment of food ranges from scarlet-ripe strawberries to powder-fresh doughnuts to cherry-red bruschettas.

"What.... what is all of this, Ethan?"

Any and all traces of humour have evanesced, the barely-discernible lilt in her voice sitting foreign on her own tongue. Forest-green hues meet torrential sapphires, the air thick with an emotion viscerally palpable.

"It's a picnic. On the beach."

His response is met with a breathless chuckle, both of them well-aware of the fact that that wasn't what she had meant.

"Ethan...."

He shifts under her watchful gaze as bespeckled moonbeams cast a spotlight on the tinge of crimson adorning his cheeks; weighing his words.

"You mentioned once that you missed the beach, that it was one of the few places you felt at home. Hence... the beach."

A wave of nostalgia washes over her as she recalls the memory-- the memory that is never truly too far from the shore of her mind--

They're tangled between his pristine sheets, legs akimbo. He holds her impossibly close to his chest-- one arm wrapped securely around her waist while the other comes up to stroke her golden locks with aching gentleness. As though she were something delicate; as though she was his- to have and to hold. As if, come tomorrow, he wouldn't go back to being her boss. As if their relationship wasn't completely and utterly doomed.

For a moment, just a singular moment, they chose to indulge in the fantasy- in the fragile bubble bound to break.

"So, Rookie," he began, a dull ache making a home within his ribs the instant her eyes rose to meet his.

She was so incredibly beautiful.

"Yes?"

"How are you liking Boston so far?"

She stilled at that, teeth coming to rest upon the juncture of her lips as she pondered her answer, contemplating her words. What she would tell him-- the extent to which she would let him in. If there was one thing Ethan Ramsey had ascertained about Lana Brooks, it was that she was calculated. Meticulous with her words, painstakingly cautious with who she let explore the beautiful maze that was her mind. And that's when Ethan Ramsey realized that he was a greedy man-- wholly desperate to be privy to her every thought.

"I-- I really really like it. It's where I've always wanted to be. Despite everything, it's where I know I'm meant to be. It's the place where I was forced to step out of my comfort zone and disillusion myself to the fact that maybe -- and this is a big maybe -- I don't know the answers to everything.

A derisive snort of laughter escaped his lips, the response so irreproachably Lana.

"High time you to finally learn some humility, Brooks"

"Excuse me? Pot calling the kettle black much?"

He merely laughed, crooked smile wholly on display- for her, and only her.

He was so incredibly beautiful.

She wanted to freeze time for a moment, encapsulate this memory within the recesses of her soul and never let it go.

She had the sudden urge to tell him more, more, more. Anything and everything he wanted to know- she was willing.

"I hate the fact that there aren't any beaches nearby, though."

He stilled at that, laughter fading as his eyes bore into hers. Eager to know more, to further unravel a piece of the mystery.

"I- There weren't a lot of things I liked about living in Thailand. I'm glad I got away, glad that I won't ever step foot there again. But-- I do miss the beaches. Especially the beaches during the night-time. When all the insufferable tourists went home, and the beach went quiet. It was so incredibly peaceful-- it's the one place I would always go to when things got heavy. It felt like the home I never had."

--"Lana?"

His utterance of her name snaps her out of reverie, bringing her back to the shore of the present.

A slight tremor sits in the back of her throat as she utters her next words-- "You remembered?"

The tinge of vulnerability etched across her features would have gone unnoticed by anyone else.

But not by Ethan.

Never by Ethan.

On instinct, as though it were second nature-- he moves to stand in her space. Pulled into her orbit, revolving around the brightest star in the night sky.

"I remember everything, Lana.

Especially when it comes to you."

And as his arms come around to encompass her, anchor her; she realizes that she may have found a new place to call home after all.

#yes i decided to have lana be born in thailand lemme have this moment of self indulgence okay?#also if you see any spelling mistakes.... no you don't #ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan x lana #lana brooks #my writing

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