#( thank you lare !!! )

[sobredunia]

TELL ME ABOUT THE SUN AND MOON LESBIANS UZOMI AND LARE i must know the deep lore.

UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE UNLOCKED

OKAY SO. These two are characters who have already gone through a lot. In fact, their main arcs ended WAY before Kenikari started, and what we see is the aftermath of that transformation

Uzomi was a former emo kid, socially sheltered from the world due to her parents' "unusual parenting"

(*cough* *cough* severe child neglect *cough* *cough*)

Not only that, but she was neglected at school as well. Absolutely nobody paid attention to her, not even her teachers. The one gifted kid in class who literally could not forget anything didn't even know her last name

Normally, this would create a child desperate for attention, right? No! Because Uzomi had one singular good thing in her life: her brother

He was much less neglected than her by their parents, although their attention stopped coming once Uzomi was born and they started leaving on business trips. He didn't get as ignored in class, but he had severe social anxiety that made it impossible for him to communicate with the other kids, so he eventually faded into the background of that as well

But at home they both devote their undivided attention to eachother

They had little signs and systems all around the house to communicate in ways only perceivable to shrimp, and when the two worked together it was like a perfect machine in motion. They were all they needed

So, while Uzomi did pull a stunt or two to get attention, it either didn't work at all or it made her brother dissapointed in her, and since she didn't want to make him sad she just stopped trying to stand out altogether. Her clothes consisted almost exclusively of blacks and whites, she developed a resting bitch face, she handled interactions coldly, and didn't talk to anyone to the point people thought she was straight up mute

And then someone approached her, genuinely trying to make friends

At first, she shut them off, obviously, but they kept on trying and trying and they ended up doing a group project together and they actually became friends!! :D Uzomi started to actually speak to people, she smiled more, she shared her interests in mechanics that she had only told her brother about, and she actually started to get mildly along with others

Unfortunately, that person wasn't in her life anymore, but she didn't stop being friendly. Once she started upper secondary school (a thing in japan, it goes from grades 10 to 14) she kept on being niceys with others and actually made friends by initiating the friendship herself!!

Now, Lare

Lare is also at the end of what is essentially a healing arc (too bad her mental health is gonna plunge in the killing game lmao)

Her parents were average, but school was hard. Everyone had a very strict sense of what was right, so to speak. If you stepped ever so slightly away from that, you were ostracised and bullied. She was very shy as a child, feeling the peer pressure from others to "fit in" for as long as she could remember. Albeit her cowardice was mocked, it wasn't that bad, mostly some jabs here and there. There was this one other student, however, whose life was made a living hell

Lare saw this every day, and one day worked up the courage to ask why they were so mean to this one person

"Because she's a freak" Was all they answered

And Lare knew that wasn't fair nor true, but didn't say anything

One day, Lare sneaked out at night to go to school. She was in the middle of something when she got caught by none other than the bullied student. She was scared, would she tell everybody about what she was doing? Would she drag her down to the mud so she wouldn't be alone? Would she try to get revenge in some way for witnessing the horrible things they did to her and not speaking up about it?

But she didn't

She just shrugged and moved on, completely ignoring Lare. Then, she noticed she was using the bathroom mirrors to clean up her messy hair, but had some problems, so the student offered to use her hairbrush and then she brushed Lare's hair and that was the moment she became very much gay. After a bit the two packed their things and parted ways without saying goodbye

The day after, Lare noticed that the student had gone off to a quiet corner of the school to have lunch so she wouldn't be bothered, so she decided to go sit by her side and have lunch with her. They started talking and they became friends

Of course, people saw how she was hanging out with the outcast, and started to ostracise Lare too. The student told her many times that it was best they stay separated while they weren't alone so she wouldn't start to get bullied either, but Lare refused to make her be more alone than she already was

She did get bullied a decent much, it never got to phisical stuff unlike the other student, but she knew they hated her and wanted her dead. Then, because of life stuff, Lare needed to change schools, and leave her friend behind. It was hard, but her friend promised that she'd convince her parents to change schools as well one day and they'd be friends again

That day has yet to come, but in that new school the people weren't as mean, and Lare became much more social and quickly befriended all the shy people because she knew what it was like to feel all alone, and then the social people. She became a natural at entering groups and flowing through conversation, and she didn't notice, but pretty much the entire school had labeled her as THE Popular Girl

So.

We have a girl who has been forgotten and dismissed for 90% of her life

And a girl who wants to make everyone feel welcome and appreciated because she's seen how hard it can be to have no one by your side

In conclusion: this is yuri

[daybreakrising]

3, 5, 8 and 10 !

End of year asks | @claysplosion

3. How have you grown as a rper this year?

kinda ties into the last question on my previous ask but i've stopped worrying about "holding back" when it comes to the way i write. i'll never over-complicate my writing but i'm not going to restrain myself. if i wanna take three paragraphs to describe 3 seconds of a reaction, i fckn will.

5. Have you read/watched/played anything new thanks to the rpc this year?

idk if this counts bc charlie is also my irl best friend but they've bullied me into watching a couple of new series (which i still haven't watched any more of bc why would i when i can watch something i've already seen a thousand times >__> calling myself out before charlie has a chance to)

that multifandom sideblog of mine still sits there gathering dust but i promise, charlie, that i'll finish things eventually and test out those new muses

8. Talk about one of your favorite headcanons you posted this year.

it's gotta be my favourite ragdoll monster again bc that's all i can remember from this year

i love every headcanon i've shared about his past, filling in the gaps we never got to know and giving him reasons for his path into villainy. there's nothing i love more than to give relatively minor or bare-bones characters detailed histories and motives, so k.akuzu's poor childhood & sick mother being the drive for his obsession with money is definitely up there as a favourite

10. Did you the mun learn anything about yourself this year? What?

well i learned that i'm a lot more neurodivergent than i've been thinking for the last 5+ years, so that's been fun to adjust to. nothing like learning this shit in your 30s, guys ! especially when a member of your family tells you they had suspicions since you were a kid and you're just like ??? and why didn't you say / do something ????? but hey, at least i know now, right ??? =/

[strawberrypoundtown]

Alright, hear me out I am thinking... Werebear. I just can't get my mind off of the idea of a werebear with his little round ears and fuzzy tail who gets disturbed while trying to hibernate (Which he's admittedly not very good at)

That's it, take it and run girly~

(OH it's just a quick one shot- sike, this was a lot longer than I planned and I had to cut some of it for another time lol I should have made it two parts, but whatevs

Enjoy the show - Strawberry 🍓)

Werebear x Fem!Reader

You move into a new apartment complex and notice your next-door neighbor being a lot more secluded and withdrawn lately as the winter creeps in. One late night, as you're walking through the hall to your door, you notice the door to his apartment is wide open...

Contains: unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, light free use kink (?)

You had moved into this apartment complex just shy of 3 months ago. You were still getting your bearings, having not lived completely alone before. You always had roommates or family living with you, so finally being completely alone was strange. Your apartment complex wasn't very big. There were only two other apartments on your side of the hall, yours sandwiched between the two.

The older werewolf woman that lived on your right seemed to be pretty calm and quiet, albeit a bit paranoid. She looked to be about 50-60 years old, but could be older. You hadn't seen her leave the complex property before, so you just chalked it up to her being a bit of a recluse. You occasionally grab her mail for her when she asks, and she's always grateful, giving you a handful of candy before sending you on your way.

The man that lived on your left was a very different story. You two had met lare at night when he offered to help you move a very large chair that you had bought a few days after you moved in. You were struggling to get it into the elevator after regretting that you had ordered the orc size for the chair and not werewolf of something. Damn you and your enjoyment of large furniture.

A large, burly man with a bushy brown beard had appeared behind you during your struggle. His curly golden brown hair was short and messy. He seemed to be around a staggering 7' tall, easily towering over you. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, steel-toe workboots, and a reflective vest that people used on construction sites. Of course, you assumed that he just got off of work and was getting impatient with you hogging the only elevator. You were about to apologize for being in his way and try to get the chair out of the way when he put his massive hand on your forehead, gently moving you out of the way. With a faint grunt, he easily moves the chair into the elevator. He stands in the elevator with the chair next to him and enough space for you to stand next to him. He holds the elevator door open for you as he stares at you. He notices you hesitating and looks away from you, his dirt covered cheeks turning a bit red as he looked away from you. He was still waiting for you.

"O-oh. Thank you." You said softly with a smile as you looked up at him and stepped into the elevator. You clicked the button for your floor, and he nodded in response as he moved his arm, letting the door close. "You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in about a week ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He let out another grunt as he nodded once again, only glancing at your occasionally as he avoided touching you in the cramped elevator. Saying he was a large man as an understatement. You had to strain your neck to look up at him, but looking at eye level or lower was even worse. He was built like a truck with a nice layer of chubbiness. He seemed so soft, so nice to hug. You just wanted him to pick you up and hold you. It was hard to focus on anything but him as his chest was only inches away from your face. You could tell that he had a very strong build, and you love a large dad bod. He was covered in dirt and sweat, but his scent was still a bit too nice for your comfort.

As the elevator doors opened, you found yourself trying to scramble out the door and out of the way as quickly as possible. You had let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm your racing heart as he lifted the chair out of the elevator with ease. He immediately started walking towards your door.

You quickly got out your keys and jogged down the hall to open your door. He moved quickly, so he was already at your door by the time you got there. Once your door was open, you led him inside your cozy apartment and towards your livingroom. As he stepped inside, he was surprised at the decore you already had up. Pictures and posters and a few fake plants with fairy lights pinned to the ceiling.

After he put down the chair where you told him to, he noticed the rest of your furniture. It was all fairly large, at least the size for most werewolves, but all covered in pillows and blankets to make it cozy. He felt like just looking at your apartment would make him fall asleep. He needed to leave. Your heart sank a bit, following him as he immediately turned to walk towards the front door.

"Thank you for your help! I don't know what I would have done if you didn't help me. I'm sorry I bothered you on your way home-" You say, but he cuts you off by holding out his hand to you to shake. You take it gently, and he begins to speak.

"Don't worry about it. If you ever need help with anything, I live next door on your left. Apartment 400. I'm pretty handy." He says softly as he looks down at you with a blank expression. His voice was deep and intimidating, but it made you feel safe and warm. His hand was big and rough, but he held your soft hand so gently, like he was worried about hurting you.

"Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that. Um... could I get your name? My name is (Y/n)." You say with a smile, staring up at him as your other hand comes up to rest on top of his. His cheeks turn a bit red once again as he stares at your hands for a moment before looking back into your eyes.

"I-I'm Clayton..." He says shyly before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. "It was nice to meet you (Y/n). I need to go." He said bluntly, his eyes avoiding yours as he rushed off to his apartment door. For such a large man, he sure was quick. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before you heard his door slam shut. You worried you angered him, but based on his pink cheeks, you assumed that he was just shy.

Over the next month, you would start conversations with him whenever you would see him. He would always stand and listen until you were done talking. Occasionally, you would mention that you were trying to do something in your apartment and would ask what kind of tools you would need. He would tell you, seemingly happy that he could give you advice. However, he never seemed to let you take his advice, because before you could even get the tools you needed, he would be over with his toolbox ready to go.

Need a shelf put up? He did it. Need your sink unclogged? No problem. He got it cleared. Need your lock replaced because your ex found out where you lived? He replaced your entire door and got you a doorbell camera.

He never accepted any money from you, always saying he just wanted to be a good neighbor and make sure you were safe. He did, however, accept food. You always made him a big plate of whatever you were eating that night. He always seemed to enjoy it after he got home, the plates returning to your front door completely clean the next morning.

However, as the fall passed and the winter started, you saw Clayton less and less. Whenever you would see him, he'd look absolutely exhausted, and you had noticed him getting thinner. He also started to occasionally walk around with his cute stubby tail and round ears out due to how little energy he had. You had found out from your other neighbor that Clayton was a werebear, so the winter season made him exhausted all the time. You felt bad for asking for so much of his time while he should have been preparing for hibernation, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was eating enough.

Every day, you brought a container of food over to his door and left it in front of his door. You would leave a note on the container before knocking and running off so you didn't bother him further. The clean, empty containers would show up in front of your door the next day with a note that just said 'thank you'.

What you didn't know was how much it actually meant to him that you had been helping him in return. He had always struggled with his hibernation, having been raised by a pack of werewolves after his parents adopted him. They did their best, but he was never really taught how to hibernate properly. It didn't help that he had insomnia, which was very inconvenient for the big guy when it came to his hibernation time. Thankfully, during the winter, his construction jobs slowed down a bit, but it still took a lot out of him. Cooking himself dinner at the end of a long day was out of the question, so he usually got take out or nothing at all.

Imagine his surprise when he started getting food dropped off at his door every night. He loved your food. Everything you made was delicious, and he always licked his plate clean. You were so sweet with how you helped take care of him. The smell of the fantastic food you cooked flooding the hallway was amazing, but your scent had him even more entranced.

Ever since you had moved next door, just your scent from the hallway was enough to comfort him. He had already thought you were cute when you moved in, but as time went on, he fell for you even harder. Your more domestic side showing lately had been the killer for him, though. You would check in on him and give him food, a reassuring touch, like the angel you were. He wanted to help take care of you like you took care of him. He wanted you. He needed you. He always had such a hard time leaving your apartment because of how cozy it was. The moment he would walk in, he would feel like he could pass out on the floor and still be comfortable. He wished he could sleep in your orc sized bed with you and show you how much he cares about you.

He would listen unintentionally as you would take a shower or get ready for bed. The walls were so thin, and with his hearing as good as it was, it was impossible for him to ignore your whimpers from the other side of the wall whenever you'd be masturbating. Whenever he had gone in to help you put up a shelf in your bedroom, he could smell the arousal in the air from when you had given yourself an orgasm shortly before he arrived. He struggled to hide his erection the whole time. Just imagining what you did to yourself when you were alone made his dick throb in his jeans. Being able to smell that you were ovulating didn't help.

He knew what everything meant. You were his mate. He just had no idea how to tell you without sounding completely insane. You were just a human. A very soft, sweet human that surely only had the best intentions whenever they would interact. If only he knew how further he was from the truth. You had wanted him just as badly, if not more, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He just seemed shy to you, and you didn't want to scare him off. For such a big guy like him, you had hoped food would win him over. Every time you had him over to help fix something you didn't understand, you would fantasize about him driving his cock into you and letting out all his pent-up frustrations. And cum.

Once you found out he was a werebear, you did some serious research. You learned about how he needed a cozy environment he could use as a 'den' and how much he needed to eat. Werebears didn't sleep 24 hours a day, but they needed at least 10-14 hours of sleep every night to function somewhat normally during the day. They tend to need to eat a lot to keep up a healthy layer of fat. They can also get very, very backed up if they don't have a mate to hibernate with as they typically don't socialize during this time. You didn't know what his apartment looked like, as he had never invited you over, but you wanted to make your home as inviting to him as possible for when he came over. Especially your bedroom.

You were happy you rented in a monster-friendly apartment building due to the fact that you had an orc sized bed from the last place you lived in. It was at least 9' long, and you were always swimming in it, so you always had it loaded with pillows and stuffed animals and soft blankets. You figured that if you got some extra large blankets for him to use, he would be more inclined to come over.

But lately, he was so tired he had let his ears and tail show, his arms and chest extra hairy as it peaked out of his clothing. He was trying to conserve energy, and you noticed him not snoring much at night when he should have been sleeping, but still going to work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. You also noticed that as the next full moon approached, he was struggling more and more to hold it together. He was nearly falling asleep standing up and more shuffled than walked to his apartment. You started making more and more food for him to leave by his door for when he got home.

Tonight was a full moon, so you knew you had to make him a lot of food because he was going to fully tranform tonight. The containers had started coming back broken with apology notes and money attached, so tonight you had gotten some disposable containers. You made him a huge spread of various roasted vegetables and fish and put all the containers in front of his door, saying that if he needed to, he could crash at your place.

That leads you to this moment, you standing outside Clayton's door. You heard him stumble home about 20 minutes ago and growling for about 15 minutes until a loud thud hit the floor. It shook your apartment, and you instantly rushed over to see if he was okay. You noticed the door was cracked open and hesitantly pushed the door open. Your jaw dropped as you saw his living conditions. It was clean, but barely had any furniture to keep clean in the first place. All he had was a large futon in the livingroom and a TV with a gaming set up.

You hear groaning coming from what you assume to be the bedroom as you carefully creep in. You peer down the hallway to see a large furry mass in the dark. A mess of ripped apart food containers were scattered down the hallway to in front of the bed. You gingerly made your way down the hallway as you tried to get a better look at him. You could tell he was already fully transformed, and it almost sounded like he was... whining? As you got closer, you noticed that he was so big half his giant furry body was hanging off the bed. He was facing away from you, but you could hear him panting and whining as his nubby tail wiggled. He was a giant ball of fur and you slowly walked up to his face. His head was huge when he was transformed. He looked like an adorable grizzlybear, minus the giant sharp claws.

"C-clayton?" His eyes snap open at the sound of your voice. Your sweet, beautiful voice. "Are you okay?... I heard a loud thud, and your door was open..." You were so kind. He couldn't believe you actually walked in here to check on him. He didn't know what to do. He was embarrassed at how his place looked. He had been so tired lately he hadn't wanted to do anything special for his hibernation, but he was regretting it now.

He bashfully looks away from you and scoots his head closer to you. You crouch down and gently run your fingers through his fur. His fur was so soft you gently rest you head on top of his as she scratched the fur around his neck. He lets out an odd growl that almost sounds like a purr as he nuzzles into your chest. He inhales your comforting scent deeply. You smell so sweet... He had to carefully pull his face away from your chest before he tried to rip your tank top off. He had noticed you weren't wearing a bra and wanted to know what your breast looked like so badly. He caught himself staring at your chest before looking up at you with his beautiful golden eyes.

"C-can I crash with you? Please?... this is bad..." His voice was hoarse as he groaned. He regret pushing his body so much and ignoring his need for a proper den. He knew your place would be perfect based on what he had seen so far. Not only that, but he would be able to convince you to share your large bed with him. It had been so long since he could cuddle anyone during hibernation...

"Of course you can. I just need you to follow me." You said softly, and you went to stand up. He stood up with you, and you couldn't help but freeze for a moment as you took in his large form. He was nearly 9' tall, staring down at you as he breathed heavily. All he had on were some boxers that were way too small once he was transformed. You could see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric. He put one of his giant hands on your shoulder and sleepily followed you next door to your apartment, being sure to at least close his door before he leaves.

Upon stepping into your apartment, he has to use his hands on your wall to stabilize himself. Walking through the threshold of your home and being hit with a wall of your scent was overwhelming. He stumbled through your apartment as carefully as possible, trying not to knock anything over. You had to guide him to your bedroom, him ducking a bit through the doorways. As he saw your bed, he let out a sigh of relief. The mass of pillows and giant blankets looked so welcoming.

"I-I hope it'll be okay. At least better than your place..." You let out a soft giggle as you opened up the bed more for him to crawl in. He didn't waste another moment before carefully crawling onto your bed. The bed dipped under his immense weight. You thanked yourself for getting a reinforced bedframe when you got your giant bed.

"Oh fuck." He groaned out as he fully laid down, his body going limp as he finally felt his body fully relax for the first time in ages. Fully stretched out, he's just as tall as the bed, but all the pillows and blankets with the softness of the mattress are perfect. He feels like he's in heaven as he turns onto his side and closes his eyes. His breathing began to get heavier, and you assume he's already starting to fall asleep. You grab the biggest blanket you have from your couch and as you lay it over him, his eyes slowly open. He stares at you for a moment as your body is illuminated in the moonlight peering in from your window. He hadn't really gotten a good look at you yet, and it was a good thing that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to make it over to your apartment if he noticed you were only wearing a tanktop and tight boxer shorts. He could already feel himself getting hard under the covers, your scent overwhelming as he let out a soft groan.

"Clayton? Are you okay?" You ask with a worried tone. Your caring eyes are so beautiful in the moonlight. In a flash, you were pulled under him while letting out a loud yelp. He was proped up on his elbow on his side next to you, his other hand on your hip as he leaned over you. He held your body so close to his, trying his best not to rip your clothes off of you immediately. He leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck so all he can smell is you. He was annoyed at how your scent was so comforting but wouldn't let him sleep. He was pent-up, and you were his mate that made a den just for him... he needed to do something or he felt like he was gonna explode.

He moved one of his knees in between yours as he stared into your eyes, running his hand from your hip to your thigh to guide it to hook over his leg. Goosebumps appear all over your body as you feel his sharp claws drag across your skin. As you were held there on your back, you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Fuck you were turned on. You didn't know what to do but stare back into his glowing eyes and follow his lead. He leaned in close to your face, bearing his sharp teeth as he struggles to find his words.

"I really need your help tonight (Y/n)..." He mumbles as he moves from smelling your hair to burying his nose in your collarbone.

"Look, I'm flattered... v-very flattered, but I'm not really a fan of one night stands." You say nervously, knowing that you'd want way more than just one night with him. His large, rough tongue rakes up the side of your neck, making you let out an involuntary moan.

"Who said I wanted a one night stand?" His hot breath brushes against your neck, causing goosebumps to go down your body. "I want you.. All of you... Always." His teeth ran across the skin in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply. "If you want me, I'll stay... please..." He pleads with a deep growl. He sounds so desperate for you. You wouldn't have thought the stoic man next door would be reduced to a horny, cuddly mess, but here you are. "My mate..." He growls as he palms one of your breasts through your thin tank top, careful not to scratch you with his claws. The pressure of his body against yours is overwhelming in the best way, every touch lighting you on fire as you couldn't help but let out soft moans.

"P-please stay Clayton..." You begged as your self-control went out the window, grinding your hot mound against his leg. Your words and actions made him suck in a breath, pausing as he stared at you. He suddenly turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist. He used his claws to rip a huge hole in your shorts, exposing your dripping wet pussy. You pulled your tanktop off quickly before he ripped that off while he ripped away his boxers. His massive cock sprang to life, smacking against your wet pussy lips softly. He pulled himself up to bring you in for a kiss, groaning as he

You bit your lip before grinding your cunt down along his dick. It was too dark for you to see properly, but his dick felt similar to a werewolf's dick, but much bigger. You hadn't taken someone that big before, so you were secretly happy that you were in the middle of masturbating when you heard him come home...

"Oh fuck." He strained his head back against the bed as he moaned. His hands reached up to hold your hips in place, rolling his hips back against you to get more friction against his sensitive cock. His hands were massive, both of them nearly completely encircling your waist as he held you in place. He fought against the urge to use you like a living fleshlight immediately. He felt like he was getting high off the scent of your arousal.

You brace your hands on his soft forearms as you find your footing by his sides. His waist is too big for you to straddle normally, but you don't care. You're gonna do your best. You were getting impatient, as he could feel from how his cock was completely drenched from your juices. He raises his head up to look at you, letting out soft whimpers as you pull your heat away from his needy dick. You earn a low growl from him as you decided to grab his cock and line his dripping tip up with your aching hole. His grip on your hips tightens, and you feel his claws threaten to break your soft skin. He applauded his self control in his crazed state, although every fiber of his being was telling him to just bury his cock deep inside you now. He needed you so badly.

You press yourself down on his dick, your arousal and his precum acting as lube. His cock slides into your pussy easier than he expected, but you're still struggling to take his size. His cock was so thick it stretched your pussy to the absolute limit and you were loving every second. You had only taken him about halfway, and yiu didn'tknow how much more you could take. You were trying to hold your moans as much as possible, but the attempt was futile. You groaned out in pleasure as the shape of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every movement.

Clayton stared at you hungrily, growl in his throat that resonated through his whole body. You could swear you felt his dick vibrate, but then again, it might have been your walls fluttering to accommodate his size.

He suddenly snaps his hips up into yours, his hands on your hips keeping you in place as he buries his cock into you up to his knot. The drastic shock to your body made you scream out in pleasure. Your pussy stung as you felt the bulge at the base of his cock press against your pussy. You feel him shudder under you as you clenched your pussy around his length. You're given very little time to adjust before he starts moving your hips for you.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry... I can't control myself right now... you drive me fucking crazy... you're so fucking tight..." He growls as he watches your boobs bounce in front of him. He may have you on top, but he's the one in control. He holds your hips so firmly it may leave bruises, using your body as his personal sex toy. He is so desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to fill you up and get you pregnant.

He wanted you to be the mom to his cubs. You were so sweet and kind. You could teach them how to make a den much better than he could. You felt so amazing stretched out on his dick. You were just so addicting.

Every movement he made you do made you feel just as crazy as him. His cock hit all the right places, your pussy quivering around him as you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Every slight curve and bend of his dick felt like heaven as he bounced you faster to chase his own release.

"I'm so close. I'm not pulling out. I want you to take my knot and have my cub..." He grunts, whimpering as you feel his dick twitch inside you. He's close, and so are you.

"Y-yes please! I want your cum in me, please! Make me cum!" You beg him, completely giving into the pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close it almost hurt.

"Rub your clit for me, honey." He orders and you don't think twice before one of your hands finds your clit, your fingers working your sensitive clit while he works you. It only takes a few more seconds before you throw your head back, moaning like a bitch in heat as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. As you begin to cum, he snaps his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his huge knot into your already strained pussy. The rough action causes you to scream, squirting all over his crotch as your quivering pussy milked his cock. His dick throbbed inside you as he let out a roar, his claws scratching your hips while he came deeper than anyone had before. He filled your plugged up pussy so much your belly bulged slightly. You both struggle to catch your breath as his grip on you slowly relaxed. He couldn't help but stare at you and your beautiful body, your sweat shining in the moonlight through the window.

"I hope you're okay... I didn't hurt you, did I?" He groans out, a bit worried that in his haze he went too far. Your exhausted giggle eases him slightly.

"I'm more than okay..." You admit with a grin. Clayton chuckles in response as he feels his knot start to go down, letting him slip his cock out of you. You whimper and whine as he pulls his cock out, suddenly feeling every empty as his cum pours out of your used hole. He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns onto his side and pulls you close to him.

"I'm glad you're okay..." He whispers to you as he stares into your eyes with adoration mixed with exhaustion. You can't help but smile as his large body and thick fur make you feel like you have a living weighted blanket. His presence was just so comforting to you.

"I hope you don't mind hibernating with me." You say. He pulls you in close as he arranges the pillows and blankets around the two of you, using his arm as a pillow for you. He finally pulls the blanket over the two of you and wraps his other arm around you.

"Honey, I don't think I could have hibernated without you..." He says softly, ending in a yawn as you both settled in to get some sleep. As you two embraced each other, sweaty and satisfied, you couldn't stop thinking about how Clayton would be a really good dad. You secretly hope his seed already got you pregnant as you fell asleep cuddled into his chest. He took another good look at your gorgeous face before drifting off to sleep himself. Both of you were soon dreaming of your belly swollen with his cub and little kids running around.

He could get used to this.

[bunnys-writing]

Hi there!! Its been a while since i sent a request so i hope im doing this alright qwq

Can i request for Lyney x fem!reader who is an artist (a painter specifically) who is insecure about her art and what people think of her in general? And Lyney perhaps comfort her with reassuring words a lil flower :) tysm in advanced!

"HIS FAVOURITE ARTIST"

...in which Lyney finds out you're going through a bout of art block thanks to your mental health, and has to make sure his favourite artist knows how much he adores her!

(author's note at the bottom!)

"Hello (Y/N)!"

The singsong voice of your favourite man at the door pulled you from your thoughtful haze. You looked back in your stool at him and he beamed.

"Ah, Lyney! It's not already that late, is it?"

You looked around the art room, lamenting the lack of clocks, before looking out the window to see it was still twilight.

"Ah- no no, tonight's show was cancelled. Some ruckus in the crowd drew us to a faster end than planned."

"Oh, I see. Are you and your siblings okay?"

"Yes of course, not to worry, none of us were anywhere near it."

Lyney had travelled the large room to you at your canvas, hands wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Hmh, not feeling much motivation today either?"

You looked at the canvas; a few light, aimless strokes of lead were the only proof you'd even touched it. You frowned a bit, fidgeting with the pencil still in your hand. "...No."

This had been a recurring issue for a few weeks now. You had always painted such beautiful works, but larely, you'd been in a rut of sorts. You'd try to get started on a piece only to fall short a few minutes in.

That's what your boyfriend knew.

What he didn't know was that the reason you continuously failed to inspire yourself to draw was because of all the raging feelings inside of you. You were a nobody in the art industry, and what was worse, you were a nobody to yourself just as much. You didn't have any real talent in your own perspective.

So you'd sit and mull over every thought, every comment, every wrong look you or your art had ever endured, and you'd only really zone back in if someone or something came up. It was a viscious loop.

".../N)? (Y/N), you're spacing out again..."

Right. Your boyfriend.

"Sorry, Lyn, I'm just a little tired I think..."

Lyney looked at you with concern. He knew you were hiding something. He knew this had started after the most recent art expedition you'd been to. You'd refused to talk about it, but Lyney was beginning to think the only way to help was to pry a little.

"(Y/N), at the gallery, a few weeks ago," You didn't catch yourself flinching until it was too late. Lyney noticed. "You came home tired and never told me what happened. Then you started losing your motivation, and now...you're barely engaging with your art anymore...What happened?"

You looked into his eyes. He looked so concerned. You looked away to mute the guilt.

"Just some critics. People were...very honest. It was a bad day, that's all..."

Lyney gently guided your chin with his hand, getting you to look at him again. His heart broke at the exhausted look on your face. Your heart broke in tandem.

"(Y/N)...You are the brightest soul I know. Your art is inspirational and moving, and...it's always such a blessing to see the world through your eyes in your paintings.

People won't always agree with me, or see your vision, but the point is that it's not their vision to understand. It's wholly and truly yours."

His other hand gently placed itself on your chest. He felt your heart skip a beat. The hand under your chin travelled up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

"I love your works. I love to see the fine details. I love when you explain your perspectives and your creative choices, because it's your heart on a canvas, and I get the first look. It's really one of my favourite parts about your art. They don't get that privilege, you know?"

You smiled, relaxing in his hold as he smiled in turn. He brought you in closer for a hug, and you found yourself squeezing him just a little tighter.

"Thanks Lyney."

"What can I say? You're my favourite artist in the whole of Teyvat."

Your next piece was showcased at Fontaine's next expedition. It featured spirals of purple, red, yellows and browns, highlighting a beautiful rose in the middle that was speckled with gold.

Coming up with the title was simple. It was based off of your lover, after all. Your magician, your light, your forever...

Your 'Muse'.

Thanks for requesting!!

As an artist, I totally get the feeling of insecurity that comes with publishing any works, and sometimes it really does feel like the hours and days you pour into your craft don't end up meaning much, but as Lyney said, as long as it's your vision, that's already perfect.

Thanks for reading! 🫶

(Requests are open! Check out my pinned for more info!)

[catominor]

Hi! I am looking forward to the cato yaoi (I personally think the triumvirs should be involved) but did you have any more furius/martinus excerpts you could share? I know it's still very much a work in progress. I just love your work ❤️

hehe thank you... i need to do evil things to cato as soon as i . get around to it and actually decide on like . an actual idea of what to write lol.

also yeah sure! i honestly don't have that much actual writing about them that i can share, but yknow what . why not ill share this prospective first meeting scene i wrote over the summer.

---

Lucius Furius Camillus’ house was the most beautiful on the Palatine. Or, at least, this was what Gaius Martinus had heard; he had little eye for such things. And yet all the same, he had been curious when the invitation came; he had noticed him before, spoken to him, very briefly, a couple of times, yet did not know much about the man. 

He followed Furius’ dignified form into the atrium. He was tall (though not as tall as Martinus) and straight, and thin as a rail. He moved with a pronounced limp; the result, Martinus had heard, of some long-past war wounds which had left him in more or less a permanent state of illness. Martinus glanced up, noticing the wax masks of ancestors hung near the entryway; a practice of patrician and illustrious plebeian families Martinus had always found somewhat foreboding. Furius coughed (this was another affectation of his old injuries) and continued on at a leisurely pace, falling back to walk beside Martinus. 

Martinus could hardly picture Lucius Furius in the army, much less in battle; to him the image seemed comical. Tall and stately though he was, he looked fragile, like a slight gust of wind could have easily borne him off. He was around the same age as Martinus (in fact, a little younger, although anyone looking at the two men would never guess); around forty-five, his short black hair peppered with silvery grey. 

The walls of each room of the house were decorated with frescoes; he noticed these were mainly composed of scenes of gardens, which were filled with all manner of exotic birds. Finely painted, indeed, although they were old and rather faded. In a corner of the atrium there was a shrine to the lares of the house; its candles flickered in lanterns and cast a soft glow onto the little silver figures. There were flower petals scattered at their feet. The house was quiet save for a faint clattering from the kitchen, the lamps already lit as the bluish evening light diminished. 

There was a faint chill in the air; Martinus shivered, and noticed Furius did too, but he did not move to put an arm around the man as he might have for others. Something in his gut told him the gesture would run the chance of offending his patrician sensibility. And he did not want to seem over familiar, anyway. They passed into the peristylium and its beautiful garden. Furius wore relatively simple clothing for the likes of a wealthy aristocrat of his time, but it was clean and clearly the best he owned. On his right little finger he wore a seal ring of gold and blue chalcedony, which bore the image of Juno; on his left index finger an iron senator’s ring.

He turned toward the garden. “I designed it myself.” he explained. Clearly he was particularly proud of this area of the house. “I selected plants so something is always in bloom; right now it’s the narcissus. I specified that the earth be laid out in these hills, so that it might look more natural than a usual peristyle-garden; I cannot afford and have no interest to leave Rome to go to the country; and I need to have something to myself.” 

Martinus did notice it was quite unusual. A few trees ringed the outside; oranges, olives, figs, something else he didn’t know. Large bushes of rosemary and lavender clustered around a small fountain, and blobs of thyme crept over rocks. Thick vines just leafing out climbed some of the columns and up onto the tiled roof.  The rest was a sort of collection of grassy hills divided by paths, various shoots coming up at this time in the spring to add to the hyacinths already in bloom. The scent of the place was otherworldly. 

The narcissus huddled at the roots of the trees in heavy clusters, winking at them like stars in a dark field. A couple of statues stood in the garden; they looked old, the paint on them long since worn away, and never refreshed. Furius motioned toward a bench near the little fountain. He sat down nearest the orange-tree, sheltered under its new-green leaves and doubly illuminated in the bluish evening tinge and by the little stone lantern on the ground next to the pool. He leaned over, lifted one of the flowers’ heads and studied it, still not looking at Martinus. He could detect some nervousness in his posture. 

“I… Invited you here because I have a problem. I want to become consul.” Martinus was not particularly surprised. “Oh?” 

Lucius Furius finally turned to him, looked at him intensely with his large dark eyes. “I know you want this too. I want us to run together.” 

Martinus was a little surprised. “Really? Are you sure our interests are so aligned?” 

Furius’ expression was hard to read; maybe a little apprehension. “They are aligned enough.” He paused, perhaps considering his sell. “You’ll never get anywhere without patrician support. And I” he sighed. “I can’t afford it on my own. I’m sure you know my family has not achieved much in the realm of politics for quite some time.” 

Martinus looked at him for a moment, thinking. It was true, he had trouble winning over the patrician segment of the political elite. Being an Italian nobody with only a few generations of wealth and one senate seat behind you would do that. But the simple fact was: “Why me?” he asked Furius. 

Furius thought for a moment. “Because I think you’re the most well-off man in Rome whom I can stomach allying myself with, as well as being in a position to stand for consul with me. I don’t know you, yet, but I’m not throwing away my idea because of that. …Are you a good man, Gaius Martinus?” Again the eyes fixed him. Stern, inscrutable. Lucius didn’t really believe he was. 

“I believe I have brought much glory to Rome.” 

Lucius Furius hummed assent. “Mmm…” A flicker of …sadness? In his eyes. 

“...Your own military career?” Said Martinus. 

 Furius looked a little pained. “I suppose not all are constituted for such a life. I was one of those… not constituted.” A faint dusting of pink passed over his face; as befitted a man so pale, even his faintest emotions were written brightly on his cheeks. Martinus decided to change the subject. 

“Your reputation as a voice for good sense in the Senate is unimpeachable, at least. Everybody respects you.” 

“Everybody also makes a pastime of coming up with vaguely insulting nicknames for me, and giggling about me behind my back. Gods forbid I spend my free time reading the greatest works of philosophy and literature in the world instead of hanging around in stinking, sordid taverns, generating adultery scandals, and frequenting brothels.” He said, bitterly. He had Martinus, an incurable tavern-and-brothel-frequenter, there. Martinus laughed. 

Lucius Furius looked up, fixing Martinus with his dark eyes again. “That won’t stop them voting me in as consul, though. I know it. And censor after that. Especially with you, the military man, behind me. You would win glory for Rome on the battlefield, and I would restore glory to Rome here.” Martinus smiled. “You know, I’m starting to like this idea. But… I’d still like to know you better. Come to my house tomorrow afternoon.” 

“I shall, Gaius Martinus.” Lucius Furius said firmly, proferring his slender hand and looking down his nose at Martinus. Martinus shook it. 

[cocrante]

I Start Over With You

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 14]

THE CAMP JUPITER WAS JUST AS HE HAD LEFT IT, with the only difference being the new temples being erected, following the architectural patterns indicated by Annabeth. The Roman camp couldn't look better. It still bustled with nature spirits, lares, and fauns trotting through the camp's streets, occasionally hindering a hero in training. Some demigods strolled through the paths, discussing the upcoming war games. Others stopped and pointed at Nico, wondering why he had returned. With all eyes on him, he headed towards where Reyna was waiting.

The hall was bright, the tiles reflecting the sunlight, and the marble columns giving the building a regal appearance. Sitting there, waiting for his arrival, was Bellona's daughter, his adventure companion and trusted friend. She stood up, walking towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome back to camp, Nico" Reyna greeted, leading him outside. "I found a decent place in the city, and you can come to camp whenever you want" she said, heading towards the Roman city that mimicked the style of the Italian Rome, with its warm and round colors, making it almost feel like being on the same European peninsula.

Bellona's daughter told him - during the journey - that things at the camp had improved since the new agreement with the Greeks. She had received messages from Camp Half-Blood that summer, announcing that in the fall they would receive visits, so combat techniques could merge along with culture and lifestyles. "It wasn't easy" the girl explained. "Many are tied to the Mos Maiorum, the senate itself started by saying it was sheer madness" she sighed. "But even they cannot go against the will of our gods" Nico nodded, understanding the difficulty of accepting something different. He had been through it himself, and only the gods knew how long it would take for others to accept him as a camp member.

"But enough about the camp" Reyna said, noticing a certain silence from her friend. "It's been a while since we talked, besides that conversation the other day"

"I've been busy" he briefly recounted the past few weeks at Camp Half-Blood, mentioning something about Apollo's son, avoiding telling her about the Capture the Flag game and especially the kiss on the hill. The girl didn't make a sound, just let him tell, noting a slight and thinly veiled smile every time he mentioned Apollo's son. "He's a good friend" he concluded, letting out an imperceptible sigh.

"Just a good friend?" she dared to ask, as she had seen well beyond the tough exterior that protected him.

The boy took some time before responding. "Well, yes" he confirmed, though not entirely convinced. Reyna simply pursed her lips, not asking him more about that boy. If he wanted to tell her, he would, she thought. "Okay" she said, stopping in front of a building. "First floor. Your school is just a block away, you can't miss it. I've also taken the liberty of getting your books"

Nico was truly speechless; he hadn't imagined she had done him such a big favor. "Thank you, Reyna" he looked at her with deep gratitude.

"Don't mention it! For anything, you know where to find me" she handed him the keys, giving him a final pat before returning to the Roman camp.

Nico twirled the keys between his fingers, anxious and terrified to go in. He opened the door, dragging his suitcases behind him, climbing up to the first floor. There, he entered the comfortable apartment Reyna had found for him. It was a bright and warm room, the walls painted in a matte yellow and divided in half by charming Roman motifs. It seemed completely the opposite of his gloomy cabin.

Having found the bedroom, he unpacked his belongings there, hiding the box he had taken from camp in a drawer. He put away all his clothes, the few that he had, in the wardrobe, and having emptied the suitcase, he flopped onto the bed with a sigh. He didn't stay there for long because as soon as he touched the mattress, someone rang the doorbell, forcing him to go and answer. It was a real joy when he realized it was his sister, who had just knew about his arrival at camp. The two greeted each other warmly; Hazel had been missed more than anyone. Along with her was her boyfriend, the son of Mars, who seemed to have grown a couple of inches during those weeks.

Frank gave him a pat on the shoulder, quite happy to see him again. They had never really talked, but he was still part of Hazel's family, and that was enough for Frank to like him.

The son of Hades invited them both into the still-empty apartment, making them comfortable in the living room. He had a lot to tell his sister about those weeks at Camp Half-Blood, avoiding dwelling too much on Will and what had happened before arriving in New Rome. He also told her about Jason, who seemed to have completely rebuilt his life. "I'm really happy about that" exclaimed Hazel.

"Piper is such a good girl, those two make a beautiful couple" she told him, with Frank nodding in agreement.

"How's Percy?" asked Frank. The son of Hades just shrugged.

"Well, at least he hasn't gotten into any new trouble" he then told them about the absurd climbing wall challenge, of Jason being determined to win and not faint every two seconds.

The three spent the afternoon together, inviting Nico to join them for a bite to eat. The son of Hades agreed willingly, following them outside the building.

There were still many things Nico wanted to tell his sister, all carrying the same name. However, it was difficult to talk about them with Frank around.

They mostly talked about the Roman camp and how it had evolved in such a short time, telling him the same things Reyna had hinted at earlier: some problems that had arisen at the beginning, the decision to build more temples dedicated to minor and almost forgotten deities. "You should have attended the council" sighed Hazel, squeezing Frank's hand. "The Senate didn't want to hear any reason. According to them, we had to continue with our traditions" she briefly recounted what had happened after their return to camp.

"Some demigods thought the same, obviously" explained Frank. "Centuries of tradition thrown out the window" he grimaced.

"But even they had to bow to the will of the gods" Nico guessed. The son of Mars nodded.

"Thanks to the gods, they opened their eyes, our societies cannot survive if we don't collaborate. This was evident even this summer" added the boy, getting a nod of approval from Nico.

Frank began to speak freely, monopolizing the conversation a bit. He cared deeply about New Rome now that he had become praetor, telling them about the boring Roman bureaucracy that Jason had mentioned that morning, the holes to fill, the people to meet, all the supervision needed during the construction of the temples. "We could rely on Annabeth, she's a real architect!" exclaimed the boy.

The conversation gradually dwindled with the setting sun, coloring the green hills and the tips of the tallest buildings. Under that light, the city of New Rome seemed like a replica of the authentic Rome. "See you around" said Frank, bidding farewell with a nod.

"Of course" replied Nico, finally managing to spend five minutes alone with his sister, who had not missed the agitation and urgency to talk only with her. She was really good at reading body language. "Let's talk about what you forgot to tell me tomorrow, okay?" the girl smiled kindly, speaking near Nico's ear, who simply nodded and thanked her.

She walked away, the smile on her face leaving him in the driveway, which was slowly darkening.

The son of Hades returned to his apartment, finally lying down on the bed he had longed for all day. His mind was strangely empty, yet so full of thoughts that he didn't exactly know which ones to grasp.

He ran a hand over his face, forcing himself to get up, put on pajamas, and set the alarm for the next day. It was while turning the red hand that the air seemed to fold on itself, gathering the light like many small tiles, then opening into a window of light. On the other side, there was a brightly lit bedroom, although it was clearly night outside. The walls were covered with band posters, along with some photos and concert tickets now weathered with time. At the center of that window made of light was the boy who had been at the center of his thoughts all day.

"Hey!" Will was radiant as usual, but his smile faded when he noticed that Nico might be getting ready for bed. "Did I disturb you?" he hurried to say, regretful for not being able to call him earlier. Nico shook his head, placing the alarm clock on the nightstand.

"No, it's fine" he replied, unable to hide a certain embarrassment.

"Okay—" he tried to smile, but it was clear that something was wrong. All day, Will had berated himself for giving him that cheek kiss; he shouldn't have done it. Who knows what Nico thought now. "So, school starts tomorrow, huh?" he said the first thing that came to mind, even if it was rather mundane and predictable. Nico sighed, still not believing that he would really be picking up paper and pen again. "Yeah" he replied. "I'm kind of nervous" he hinted at a smile, sitting on the bed.

"It's normal" Will tried to cheer him up. "At least you won't have the fear of being expelled eight times" he joked, tilting his lips sideways. Nico stared at him, realizing that for the entire time, that was the first time he had looked him in the eyes.

"Then I guess they'll be more prepared for hyperactivity and dyslexia issues there" the boy continued. Nico struggled to imagine Will with such problems—at camp, he seemed like such a normal guy that Nico often forgot that, like most demigods, he suffered from hyperactivity and dyslexia. Life in mortal schools was often challenging.

"Do you start tomorrow too?" Nico asked then, breaking his silence.

"Yeah" Will sighed. "If it weren't for my friends, it would be a torture" It wasn't the first time he had said that, even during the days spent together at camp, Will always talked about his school and how heavy the schedules were, thankfully lightened by his two friends he had made during the past year. "Did you already get the list of extracurricular activities?" he asked, just to liven up the conversation. "It arrived yesterday, mom already signed me up for that music course. May she be blessed, I wouldn't know what to do without her" he said, unable to hold back a clear laugh. Nico thought about how it must be to have a mother; the only memory he had of his was of a faded smile, and maybe it wasn't even real. At that thought, he became saddened.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Will asked, concerned to see that dark expression.

Nico simply shook his head, coming out of his thoughts. "Nothing" he lied, trying to look at something other than Will's blue eyes. "Just tired, I guess" he said, trying to convince him with that excuse. Apollo's son tried to believe it, without delving too much into the details. "When does the course start?" he asked the next moment.

"Next week, while auditions for the choir are this Friday" he replied, and at that thought, he immediately became enthusiastic.

"A smile will be enough to get you in" Nico weakly smiled, imagining him auditioning for the school choir.

"Do you think so?" Will laughed.

"I think so" Nico answered so seriously that Will didn't know if he was really joking or being serious. He decided to take it as a joke.

The two continued to talk for a while, avoiding touching on the "hill kiss" topic. It seemed that both were fine with it, yet they couldn't deny to themselves that after that morning, a kind of strange tension had arisen. Will would have liked to explain, give him a reason for what he had done, yet something prevented him, perhaps the current situation. He thought that maybe it would be more appropriate to talk to him about it in person. Yes, he would do that when he returned to camp. However, he had not taken one thing into consideration:—"Remember during the game in the woods?" Nico suddenly reminded him, wanting to get that thought out of his mind that had been buzzing around all day. Will swallowed, hoping he hadn't heard it. "Yes" he replied, torturing his lips.

"You were about to tell me something" Nico continued, hoping he could talk to him about it now. Apollo's son nodded; he didn't want to tell him like this, via a message, but actually, at that moment, there was no one who could interrupt them. Will parted his lips, ready to tell him the truth. "Well, the thing is that..." he stammered, trying to find the right words, and as he struggled, the message was slowly dissolving.

"You'll tell me tomorrow" Nico hurried to say.

"Goodnight, Nico," he said just as quickly, before the window of light disappeared, leaving the son of darkness in the shadows.

"Goodnight, Will"

[CONTENTS]

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20

[toyarchive]

Cranston - Country dog

Features:  Is a soft dog plush made from cotton. He has a removable 2 piece outfit and fabric texture eyes and nose. These where originally sold as a cut and sew fabric pattern that you make into a plush yourself.

Size: Roughly 45cm - 50cm tall (Lare plush)

Date:  Exact date Unknown - Is vintage

(Edit: A huge thank you to ayinai (Deviantart) for finding his origins)

[tortoisesshells]

Jimothy and 26. sacrifice? Thank you very much!

Three months late, and perhaps a marble or two short of a full bag, but:

James Norrington regretted, sometimes, the irregular circumstances of his education as an officer; he was certainly not crowning himself in glories in his correspondence with Fanny, who signed herself still as Yr. Dedecated Virgil And Sister when she felt particularly superior. Mrs. Frances Everitt would be the person to turn to with the idle question haunting him now – about the Romans and their gods, and what passed between the two camps. He marshaled what he knew, or thought he remembered – their pantheon of gods, the dilapidated temples he had seen as a boy in the Med: stripped by disuse, the progress of time and piety, the remains of those places so much weathered stone. They had strange ideas about gods, but appealing ones. What wouldn’t any man give for a clear contract with the world – with power itself? He remembered – that boy he had been in the Med, voice half-breaking and wrists too far from his cuffs, drawing a picture of an ancient altar, and, with his extraordinarily halting Italian (cobbled together from school-boy Latin and martial Spanish and French) being given to understand that, hundreds of years before, bulls and pigs and sheep and birds of all kinds had been led here, washed and adorned. By the ceremonial blade, they were given to the gods as pact. A healthy bull – a good harvest, a just tenure, a successful campaign.

Did they really believe that? And, numbly, disbelievingly, was such a world possible? It seemed to him unlikely that the Romans had understood something that the English could not – or that the world had ever been anything other than what it was. They had been great builders, but sadly deluded as to the willingness of divinity to listen to prayers.

But (pen hesitating, carefully over the inkwell, not wanting to ruin the start he had made) – Fanny would know, or would know who to ask. Was that all there was? And what kind of sacrifice would a man make, and to which god (To Venus? To the household lares and penates?), on such an occasion as – as to guarantee Elizabeth’s good favor?

If he were to write her, he would have to explain – that he hoped to be married, and, maybe, by the time the letter made its way to England, he would be. That all this had happened without consulting her, or even hinting, would certainly bring down a ringing scold – but he had written to his widowed mother, and to his brother, as he ought to have, of what they cared to know: the Swanns, their cousins in Parliament, Elizabeth’s dowry. He had sat with a letter that was more inkblots than lettering for many hours, intending that he should – that there was something Fanny could tell him about the institution of marriage than Mama and Lawrence never could, if he would only ask her.

Mortified at every sentence, he hadn’t – and the days in Port Royal were so busy that he could easily bury his shame and unease in endless tasks. His promotion ceremony was tomorrow. Too late for advice on the asking now – he felt he could not go along in this world bargaining away against Elizabeth’s own will – however much he longed for the clear order of do ut des.

[frogtax]

Hi! Sorry if this is weird, but I am in LOVE with your Burnished concept. Are you okay with people including it in their writing and such? With credits of course!

Hello! I’ve been getting asks and dms about this for months since i originally started posting my burnished concepts on twitter, and I don’t totally understand why people seem to think asking people to use their personal worldbuilding is normal? Would you still ask to use it if it were for a story that wasn’t part of a fandom or franchise/popular IP?

i don’t own the concept of a ‘sin eater based reaper’. nor am i the first to do so, because it’s already a basic and derivative idea to begin with, so i encourage you to come up with your own ideas instead of asking to use my personal Lares worldbuilding 👍 if this reply seems curt it’s because i’ve had to repeat this over and over. i’m not interested in being someone people look to as a ‘loremaster’ or voice of authority on custom personal worldbuilding when it’s just something i play around with for myself. it adds unnecessary pressure to keep churning out more info about it for the people in fandom that want to use it.

thank you for understanding! i will be deleting any other asks i may get about this in the future 🙏

[imagineanime2022]

Little Lady *Part 3*

Chuya Nakahara X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3752

Requested: Anon

Request: Original Request

*Part 2*

With the new information handed to them by the enemy, with the boss at the head of the table and each detective sitting on either side of the table depending on what they thought should happen next with a few neutral parties. Dazai and Ranpo on one side of the table (wanting to void the contract with Hibiki) and Kunikida, Yasuno and Atsushi on the other side (wanting to continue protecting her). The neutral detectives being Kenji and Kenji who stood either side of the boss as the rest of them argued. “We made a promise that we would protect her!” Kunikida said. “That is true but you can’t deny what you’ve been shown, I know that it’s all true.” Ranpo said from his position leaned back in his chair, his feet rested on the table and hat over his face. “You didn’t even meet her.” Kunikida lared at him. “There has to be a reason that she did this.” Yasano added. “She could need our help, the mafia took her.” Atsushi added. “The woman that took her is probably the most fair of them all, there’s a reason that we don’t know anything about her.” Dazai said as he leaned forward on the table. “You know her Dazai?” Fukuzawa asked. “I knew her.” Dazai nodded. “You don’t know what she’s like now.” Kunikida argued “I will not leave her with them, no matter what you all think that she has done.” “And what happens when you ask her and she tells you that everything is true?” Dazai asked. “She won’t.” Kunikida muttered through gritted teeth. “Then you would have saved a liar.” Ranpo muttered, Kunkidia stood from his chair. “I will save her because it is the right thing to do, there’s no way that I can trust the Mafia.” Kunikida said before turning to leave. “Before you go, there is a job that has come in from the officers, they need help with a case that is being reopened, they said it’s about 4 months old.” Fukuzawa informed them. “I’ll go, I’ll take Atsushi with me.” Dazai said. “Why are you interested in helping this time?” Atsushi asked. “Well I want to see the officer, you know that one that broke my heart.” Dazai sighed dramatically as he walked past Kunikida who grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “What is wrong with you, why don’t you ever take anything seriously!?” Kunikida glared at him. “If you’d let me finish you would have known that Aoi Nakamaru died 5 months ago now, maybe this will be his case wouldn’t that be useful?” Dazai asked, pulling his hands from his shirt before gesturing for Atsushi to follow him as he left, Kunakida watching after her shock on his face as he continued to joke with Atsushi as if the altercation never happened.

Atsushi walked nxt to Dazai as he thought about talking to you,the way you had thanked him for looking after Dazai, he wished that he could have told you that Dazai saved him but you were gone by the time that he came back around. “I can hear you thinking, Atsushi , what's on your mind?” Dazai asked. “What happened between you and that mafia member?” Atsushi asked “she thanked me for looking after you but I don’t really understand.” “She said that?” Dazai asked as he looked at Atsushi. “We knew each other while back, she was an old friend.” He answered. “Old friend?” He asked. “Mmm.” Dazai hummed. “Just a friend?” Atsushi asked. “Next time that you see her, why don’t you ask her?” Dazai suggested. “I don’t think she’d answer me.” Atsushi said. “If you ask her the right question she’ll answer.” Dazai said as they continued to the station.

“You know the reason that you are here is because your ability is very interesting to me, it could be very useful if you joined us.” Mori smiled as he sat in the chair in front of her, at some point you had managed to force a mouth guard into her mouth stopping her from using her ability. “I would never join a group like this, I don’t want to hurt people for the fun of it, I’m nothing like you psychos!” Hibiki answered surprised that her voice held from the start to the end of the sentence, however the smile that stretched across Mori’s face made her think twice about what she had said. “You know this group of psychos have more connections than you could hope to have, no matter where you go, who you hide with we will find you, the woman who brought you in today, not only is she dangerous but she’s been with us since she was a child her connections run deep. So I ask you again, will you join us?” “No.” She answered, one word not giving her voice a chance to crack. “Then I guess we should call that cult you’ve been running from, they’d be happy to have you in their grip again, I assume.” Mori suggested, Hibiki let the tears fall down her face and Mori sighed “Think about it, decide what you will do.” He stood and walked towards the door where Koyo was standing. “Look after her, keep her comfortable.” “What?” Koyo asked. “Until she makes her choice.” Mori said before walking out the door.

The rest of the ADA came up with a plan to get Hibiki and while the rest of the group put forward their idea, Kunikida sat silent, he looked as if he were listening intently to what everyone said but the truth was that he was thinking over everything that had happened, everything that was about to happen and he hated himself for the fighting that he had caused, he wasn’t even sure that this was about his ideals anymore, he wondered if he just wanted to hate the Mafia executive that had taken Hibiki so much that he was ignoring everything else. Kunikida shook his head, he had to focus if they were going to save Hibiki and put everything right he really needed to focus.

You stood thinking, your mind racing from pity to anger, pity for Hibiki and everything that she had to endure and then anger toward Kunikida the man who places blind faith in his ideals never questioning them or what they were really made for. They were used to control good people with fake guidelines. “(Y/N)!” You jumped at the sound of Chuya’s voice. “I didn’t see you.” You admitted and he rolled his eyes, lifting his hand to smack upside the back of the head. “I called you twice, pay attention that could have been an enemy.” He warned and you nodded. “Sorry.” She mumbled. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, leaning against the railing in front of you. “I got Hibiki.” You said. “Why has that got you all spacey?” Chuya asked. “She didn’t fight back, she didn’t try to escape, she didn’t do anything, I just I guess I pity her for that and I don’t understand if she wants nothing to do with us why she didn’t fight.” You answered. “Well that might have something to do with what they worship.” He nodded and you looked at him and frowned. “You know who they worship?” You asked. “I think so.” Chuya nodded as his eyes shifted to someone behind you, not long after Koyo came into view “how is the prisoner?” “She lies, but she’s not very good at it, I can manipulate information out of her easily, she gave me another location where the cult would gather.” Koyo answered, handing the map with the marked location in the middle of the forest to Chuya. “Why would she know where they would gather?” You asked. “She said that she was a detective, another lie no doubt.” Koyo answered. “Are you sure that it was here?” Chuya asked. “Yes.” Koyo nodded. “There was a girl murdered there, the police are investigating now.” Chuya answered nad Koyo’s eyes widened. “A murder?” Koyo asked and Chuya nodded. “Wait, you said that you found something.” You said looking at Chuya and he nodded. “Yeah well at first I couldn’t figure out how she knew anything about this cult, I figured out that she was likely a cult member given everything that she knows but given the locations of the places that they choose to hold their activities, I think they might be calling to the yokai Yamabiko.” Chuya answered, passing them a picture of something that resembled a dog. “The echo of the forest?” You asked. “Her ability was really what connected it for me, you know she has an echo ability.” He finished. “You think that she’s the one that they worship?” You asked. “Great work Chuya, I’ll report this to Mori.” Koyo turned and left as you both. “I think I need to rest because that guy from the agency is tiring.” You mumbled. “I’ll find you when we need you.” He promised as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before allowing you to walk away.

Koyo relayed everything that the three of you had talked about and Mori listened intently “Thank you. Koyo, I will need you to have people watching the ritual ground over the next two days.” Mori ordered, Koyo nodded as she walked towards the door leaving. Mori pulled out his phone and dialled a number. “Where the hell have you been!? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you!” The woman on the other end of the phone yelled. “I’m upholding my end of the deal, we’ve managed to get Hibiki, she’s with us now unharmed.” Mori said. “Then what are you waiting for? Send her to us!” She ordered. “Your cult needs to leave Yokohama before a deal can be finalised.” Mori answered. “That was not part of the deal.” She reminded him and he chuckled. “Make your choice, we hold her until your cult is gone.” Mori said before she hung up the phone.

The cult members gathered in the forest, all of them talking amongst themselves until they were called to attention. “The mafia have proposed a meeting.” One of them said “what are your thoughts?” “Is that safe?” One of them asked. “We have to make it safe, they will only meet with the leader.” He said. “What about a cafe, somewhere public so that they can’t lure her into anything, maybe some of us could be in disguise in case something happened, they won’t expect it if they feel like they have the upper hand.” One of them all and they all seemed to nod in agreement. “I will make the report.” The one who seemed to be leading the discussion said as he disappeared into the forest the rest of the cult prayed, unaware that they were being watched.

“Chuya, the leader of the cult, has agreed to meet.” Mori siad. “Who are we going to send? Akutagawa or Higuchi?” Chuya asked. “No, I wanted to send you and (Y/N) if you deem it necessary.” Mori answered. “No, I'll go alone.” Chuya answered as he thought back to you saying that you wanted to rest and decided to let you. “If that is what you want.” Mori nodded “just make sure that you get it done.”

You have been sitting around and resting for the past couple of days, watching movies and hugging plushies, you decide it time to get out of the house. You went to go and get a coffee, successful in your mission you were on your way home, you saw a puppy brush against your leg you put your coffee down snapping a picture before going over to play with it, he seemed to have no interest instead running away, you turn in time to see someone who looked like Hibiki easily losing track of her in the crowd, you pulled out your phone to see that there was a message from Chuya Going to meet the cult at a cafe. You looked at it for a second before deciding to swallow your fear and type back a reply Make sure to beat them up if they trick you. You sent it with the picture of the puppy before picking up your coffee and taking a sip, dizziness taking over as you tasted something more bitter than your coffee on your lips “poison.” You mumbled to yourself.

Chuya smiled at his phone before answering I will, I thought you were resting where are you? He put his phone in his back pocket and walked into the cafe taking a seat in front of the cult leader “we want Hibiki why is Mori holding her?” She asked. “He’s not holding her, he just wants to ensure the city's safety, you have to be aware that we would find out what she was by now.” Chuya said. “That doesn’t matter, we have no intention of hurting the city.” The woman answered. “So why not leave, once your clan is over the border then we can arrange a meeting to hand her over.” Chuya shrugged. “Are you ready to order?” The waiter asked, Chuya listed the name of an expensive tea making sure that they knew they were paying before the waiter turned to the cult member who shook her head. “Not for me.” She answered. “Fine.” He nodded before disappearing into the kitchen. “We will not leave without her.” She said as she turned back to Chuya who was acutely aware of everyone around them seemingly listening in, they were all cult members. “Your order sir.” The waiter said and as he leaned down Chuya caught sight of the knife hidden behind the towel. “If you intend to keep your life I would suggest you don’t use that knife.” He warned, they both seemed shocked before the cult member when for her gun, Chuya easily leaned over disarming her knocking her out of the booth, the waiter attempted to attack him next but he grabbed one of the other members using his powers knocking him into the waiter, he threw the gun to the floor walking towards the door “Mori didn’t tell me that I could kill you, so I’m going to leave before you force a fight that you will regret.” Chuya pulled out his phone seeing a message from Higuchi Prisoner was taken. He glared at the phone as made his way back to the base.

“You saved me?” Hibiki asked. “Of course we did.” Kunikida said, she looked at him. “They told me that they told you everything.” She mumbled. “It doesn’t matter what they told us, we saved you because it was the right thing to do.” Kunikida answered. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.” Junichiro promised as they made their way back to the ADA office.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Chuya muttered as he looked out the windows of the cafe, catching sight of a figure that he never wanted to see again, “Dazai.” Dazai lifted his hand there was a button trigger, he pressed it and Chuya barely had time to process the fact that it was a bomb before the sound and force hit him. “Dazai! There were people in there!” Atsushi said as he ran towards the building, Dazai grabbed his arm to stop. “They were all cult or mafia members, no one that needed saving.” Dazai promised as he turned away from the cafe “come on.”

You took in a deep breath as the antidote finished it’s work, you stood ready to report to Mori when you saw the message on your phone, you called Higuchi “where is she now?” You asked. “She was in a black car heading back to the ADA office, she was with Kunikida, Yasuno and Junichiro.” Higuchi reported, you rushed over to your motorcycle, catching sight of the car as it drove past, you chased over took and then stopped in front of the car, using your ability in case the car actually hit you, Kunikida stopped the car beforehand though and instead climbed out of the car. “Give me back the girl!” You ordered. “We will not give her back to you so you can crawl back to whatever hole you came out of!” Kunikida yelled. “You’ll have to fight me.” “Alright.” You muttered getting off of the bike and taking out your knife “choose a weapon.” Kunikida used his ability to create a gun. You dove at him first he tried shooting but missed you you slashed aiming for his throat, he disarmed you knocking the knife to the floor before pointing his gun at you. “Surender.” He ordered, you kicked his legs out from underneath him and he groaned before realising that you were waiting for him to stand, a fair fight, his eyes widened for a second before he brought himself back to the fight at hand. You punched him in the stomach and he shot you in the leg. “Dammit.” You cursed as you heard a noise you recognised looking over to see Hibiki standing by the building a scream from her mouth caused the building to fall on target to hit you. Kunikida ran over grabbing her and pulling her back to the car. “Did I kill her?” Hibiki asked. “Does matter, we need to get out of here.” Kunikida said as he started the car again.

Chuya was lucky he had the ability that he had, manipulating the gravity around himself allowed him to escape any bad injuries and after asking about the others in his group that were stationed around the building who all had minor injuries “Chuya! I’m glad that you are okay.” Mori said as he walked into the small underground doctors office. “What happened?” They did intend on tricking us and killing me but it wasn’t them that was the problem, Dazai rigged the building to blow.” Chuya answered. “He must know something.” Mori mused before they could discuss it further, they were both drawn to you who stumbled in blood over your body and a gunshot wound on your leg. “Chuya!? What happened? Are you okay?” You asked. “Me? What the hell happened to you?” He asked. “A building dropped on me.” You answered. “Excuse me!?” Chuya asked “you were supposed to be resting!” “(Y/N) what happened?” Mori asked. “Someone poisoned me-” “I’m sorry what?” Chuya interrupted and you glared at him before continuing. “I think she was from the cult she looked just like Hibiki, I took the antidote that I keep with me but the ADA took Hibiki back, I went after them but Kunikida stopped me, we fought he shot me and then Hibiki used her ability to drop a building on me.” You reported as the nurses cleaned and treated your injuries, seconds later Koyo walked in, her eyes finding both Chuya and you in the bed and raised an eyebrow. “Did they get both of you?” She asked. “No, the ADA dropped a building on her.” Chuya answered and you looked at him and narrowed your eyes. “I know where the main base is and what they are planning.” Koyo said. “Well it seems that it’s time to make new enemies.” Mori nodded. “You two heal up before you join this fight.”

Hibiki looked at each of the members of the ADA but her eyes stayed on Dazai “it’s time to tell the truth, so shall we start with the fact that you are not with the police or a detective, I asked the officers at the station and none of them have heard of you.” Dazai prompted but she didn’t say anything so he continued. “Fine I’ll keep going the other thing is that Aoi the man that died all those years ago died by your hand, I don’t know if it was deliberate or not but you were the one that killed him and the last things is that you know too much about the cult to have just been investigating them.” “I don’t know-” “-what I’m talking about?” Dazai finished the sentence for her, the rest of the ADA were watching carefully waiting for her to say something, Kunikida even attempted to step forward to defend her but Fukuzawa was the one to stop him. “You know there’s no reason for us to protect you, especially if we don’t know what we are protecting you from, I’m sure they told you about how many people they could call on it doesn’t matter where you go, as soon as we throw you out of this office, they’ll be like dogs on the hunt.” “When my mother realised what my ability was she started to use it, she tricked people into thinking that she could talk to Yamabiko but it was just me using my ability. When they started to figure out the trick she turned to killing them to make sure that they couldn’t go to the police, Aoi was just trying to save his brother but she made me kill him, I just wanted my mum back but I don’t think that’s ever going to happen, it best if you just get rid of the cult.” Hibiki finally answered. “You know where they are?” Fukuzawa asked. Hibiki nodded as she explained the location of the main hideout which Fukuzawa later handed to the police later that evening. “As for you, you’ve helped us find and stop the cult, we can provide you with a new life but you would have to leave Yokohama.” “What about Aoi’s murder?” Hibiki asked.”That case is cold , the police have stopped investigating and given the circumstances, having it pinned to the other cult activities will not be difficult.” Fukuzawa explained. “So do you want to leave Yokohama and start a new life?” “Thank you all for the friendship and acceptance that you gave me but it’s time for me to move on and create my own life.” She smiled at them all before going around and saying her goodbyes.

The next morning Kunikida was the one that drove her to the airport “thank you for everything.” She said. “It’s no problem, I was only doing what was right.” He waved her off. “Well thank you all the same.” She answered. “Good luck in your new life.” He smiled. “Good luck to you too.” She said before turning and leaving with a new identity and a new life.

*Part 4*

Request Here!!

[baltdev]

@twocakesinacup o3s hunter inspired me to make a funny rot version of hunter

let's call this Killswitch

so to start out lets just say hunter goes to the OE colony

basically imagine hunter gets the rot surgically removed (probably by saint or smth, a spear Will Not Be Enough, don't ask how saint's there) enough for the rot to be larely benign and saves his life

but also, the rot's been in hunter for a long ass time, and after a long time inside an intelligent being, it grows its own intelligence too (thank you Out Of Our Skin)

so, after the procedure is done, hunter looks fine, but tries to stand and goes completely pale and collapses

enter long legs, the personification of hunter's rot that's actually been fighting to keep hunter alive but could never fight hard enough

these two now share a body and whenever hunter is feeling too frail, in pain, or just not enough energy, long legs takes over for them (you can easily tell by hunter's eyes clouding and crossing out and his skin going like 3 shades paler)

these two both know exactly what the other was doing because they completely share each other's memories! one remembers what happened exactly as well as the other did, but doesn't necessarily remember which one did it

hunter has an extremely high pain tolerance, is jaded to almost everything, and generally doesn't care for muxh of their own safety, but cares deeply about his friends

long legs is a bit more innocent, and is still getting to know the people hunter calls friends, but gets along very well with everyone

now in my headcanons hunter is good friends with artificer (nothing romantic though), so arti kinda flipped out when first meeting long legs and put a spear therough their head. hunter was not happy about that next cycle

also long legs uses they/them <3

[sillysybilsden]

Ehilà, viaggiatore

Hey there, traveller

Dedicated to my twin Lares.

Foreword

Hello there! It's me, the Silly Sybil (fka Clever Crow). I've been wanting to do this post for months, but life got in the way and I eventually forgot about it. But hey: better late than never, right?

Now, to the post.

In this foreword, I do want to address the nature of my resources. In fact, I am not writing all of this off of articles or academic works, but off of a questionnaire I had published back in July 2023. The answers given by fellow pagans are the main resources for this blog, whose objective is that of determining the main characteristics of two different approaches to lost practices: reconstructionism and revivalism.

Why choose such a peculiar approach to resources? Reconstructionism and revivalism are part of a spectrum, which can be intended and defined differently by different practitioners. Every pagan will have a slightly different idea of these terms. That means that these labels do not have a universal meaning - there is no institution recognised worldwide that gives us the requirements to be a revivalist or a reconstructionist: it is up to the practitioner and their understanding of the term. This is the reason why I've decided to opt for a form rather than articles as a resource. After all, who, better than a pagan who lives and practices paganism daily, can instruct us about paganism-related terms?

One last important thing I want to do is introduce you to our “cast”* - the wonderful pagans who took the time to compile the form, that is:

➳ anonymous contibutor (revivalist)

➳ Dead (revivalist)

➳ Guenevere (reconstructionist)

➳ Magpie (reconstructionist)

I do feel like thanking the people above is the least I can do. For this reason, I thank all of those who participated from the bottom of my heart: this post wouldn't exist without you.

*The "cast" is formed by aquaintances from a closed Amino community.

On paganism

In order to understand the definition of paganism-related labels, we must first define paganism. My personal research led me to two definitions I will provide you with:

An umbrella-term that indicates non-Abrahamic religions*;

An umbrella-term that indicates religions that are not main world religions**.

The options above might seem similar - if not identical. However, the subtle difference between them is extremely important.

According to Dr. Angela Puca¹, pagan beliefs/religions show the following characteristics:

A polytheistic and animistic approach to spirituality;

A direct relationship with the divine - which sometimes translates with little interest to scriptures and interactions in a non-institutionalised way;

The belief of immanence - the belief that the divine is everywhere and, thus, is not external to the natural world but within the same;

As a consequence of (3.), the reverence for everything as everything holds divine power.

For the reasons above, pagans are very likely to believe in magick - if not practice it. Quoting Dr. Puca, one could say that some of the most popular beliefs that fall under paganism are “Wicca/Witchcraft, Druidry, Heathernry, Asatrù, Goddess worship, ethnic reconstructions and other animist earth-based traditions”.

Now that we have defined, very broadly, what paganism is, let us get to reconstructionism and revivalism.

*Abrahamic religions include Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

**Main world religions include, among the others, Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism and Hinduism.

On reconstructionism

“Reconstructionism is about recreating an ancient or dead religion as closely as possible to the original source. This means learning about, understanding, and incorporating historical traditions. Being a Reconstructionist involves a lot of time and research.” - Magpie

“A reconstructionist seeks to find the historic pieces of practice and remain true to that as best they can.” - Guevevere

As the two members of the cast above already said ever-so-clearly, reconstructionism puts a lot of emphasis on historical accuracy - which revivalism also does but to a lesser extent, as we will see later on. The key characteristic of this approach to pagan traditions is the will to practice a dead religion as it was by ancient peoples.

For example: a modern Hellenic polytheist who considers themselves a reconstructionist will do a ritual as a 3rd century BCE Hellenic polytheist would have - if that is indeed the era they mean to reconstruct: the same pagan religion can show different characteristics depending on the century.

The modern reconstructionist practitioner will not alter the rituals and, sometimes, nor will they attempt to fill the gaps with their own UPG*². For this reason, many reconstructionists affirm that it takes a lot of time and research for them to add new practices to their own, as they must research thoroughly the subject and reconstruct it exclusively thanks to historical accounts - for this reason, they rely on academical and primary resources**. Sometimes, if gaps make it impossible to reconstruct a, say, ritual, reconstructionists might decide not to include it in its entirety - in place of, as said before, use any UPG to fill said gaps.

*Unverified Personal Gnosis: a belief that is not backed up by mythos and is exclusively theorized/recognised by the single practitioner.

**Primary resources: texts that were written in the historical period that one is researching. Eg: Saint Augustine of Hippo's texts are a primary resource to those who are researching 4th/5th century Christianity.

On revivalism

“Revivalism is a sort of subcategory of Reconstruction. It has the same goals and also has an emphasis on historical accuracy but tends to be on the less strict side and not as culturally focused*. While Recon. as a whole would include people that expect near-total adherence to historically or culturally attested practices, Revivalism is more theologically focused and has more room for adaptation to one's existing culture and environment. *cultural context is still important, revivalism just doesn't expect participation/membership to a specific culture.” - Dead

“Revivalists keep a sense of tradition within their practice but still allow room for UPG/SPG* and modern practices while still keeping it within the religion.” - anonymous contributor

As we anticipated before, revivalism, too, heavily focuses on historical accuracy. However, there is more room to add one's personal beliefs and/or alter some parts of the practice. This is the very big - and very important - difference between the two approaches: while reconstructionism hardly accepts UPG or SPG to fill the gaps - and, so, adjust part of a practice to one's needs/beliefs -, revivalism is much more flexible on that bit.

For example: a modern Gaulish polytheist who considers themselves a revivalist might decide to fill the gaps given by the little - and biased - resources on their practice by adding their own UPG to what is already historically attested.

Just because revivalism accepts UPG and SPG, it doesn't mean that it is a less-demanding approach than reconstructionism. In fact, it does require the same amount of research and of digging into academic and primary texts. Revivalism is about *adapting* an historical practice; it is not about eradicating it from its original historical and/or cultural context, which has to be researched nonetheless. One could say that revivalists want to reconstruct ancient practices as if they were never destroyed in the first place, taking into account the evolutions such practices would have gone through in the contemporary world. Thus, using one of the examples above, if I am a revivalist I am not practicing Hellenic polytheism as a 3rd century BCE polytheist would have, but I am practicing it as a potential 2024 Hellenic polytheist would have after all of the probable changes religion could have gone through.

To better explain the difference between reconstructionism and revivalism: Roman deities used to be offered incense and wine. If I were to use a reconstructionist approach, I might want to stick to these offerings as they are two of the few offerings that are historically attested. If I were to use a revivalist approach, I might prefer using incense or wine, but I could opt for a strawberry beverage from time to time.

*Shared Personal Gnosis: a belief that is not backed up by mythos and is exclusively theorized/recognised by a group of practitioners.

Conclusion

I personally, to this day, do not know whether to consider myself a reconstructionist or a revivalist. That is because, depending on the pagan community you're interacting with, the "requirements" to label yourself as reconstructionist or revivalist might change - and this is something I already mentioned in the foreword. What I - and the other contributors - tried to do is give you some very broad guidelines in order to let you establish whether you fall under one or the other category.

If you do not find any of these two approaches fitting for you, there is no need to worry: as I stated in the foreword, we are talking about a spectrum. Some people lean towards one of the two extremes of this spectrum and there might be people who find themselves outside of it, which is valid nonetheless.

This being said, I thank you all for reading this blog. Let me know in the comments whether you describe yourself as a reconstructionist, a revivalist or something else entirely!

Wish you a pleasant day/evening/night.

The Silly Sybil

Resources

Informative

¹ Dr. Angela Puca's video on paganism

² Dead's post on UPG and SPG

Paintings

¹ "Priestess of Delphi" by John Collier

² "Magic Circle" by John William Waterhouse

³ "Roman Woman Lighing a Lamp at the Home Altar" by Stephan Wladilawowitsch Bakalowicz

[phantomato]

I’ve grown to like Thoros so much!

Aww, thank you, anon! I really love him too. It always makes me so happy to hear when someone follows along with my fic and comes to care for him! 💖

This reminds me that I have the final chapter of Lares ready for editing. I will make an effort to finish that!

[no-stupid-questions-official]

Hello! This is maybe a silly question but I haven’t been able to figure it out and I don’t know where else to ask.

So, I am a Roman history enthusiast, specifically Roman religious history, and I’ve started working on a small shrine. I’ll try to explain the concept because it’s important to my question, but it’s complicated so apologies if this is kind of long.

Basically, Romans had little shrines in their homes called larariums which were used for worshipping minor deities called lares. Lares were not part of the Greek/roman pantheon, (12 gods of Olympus, Zeus/jupiter, ect) they were more like spirits that were tied to specific places or families. Some were regional to a specific town, some were specific to particular buildings, stuff like that. A family’s lar could be described as a spirit of their home, a lar of a particular forest could be described as the spirit of that forest. I decided to make my own lararium (shrine) in the Roman style and create some Lares based on my hometown to put inside it. (The Roman’s had little statuettes of human figures to represent their lares, they kept these in their lararium shrine) I live near the Hudson River, so I decided to create a lar based on that.

I translated the original name of the Hudson River (the river that flows both ways, named by Lenape people before Henry Hudson ‘discovered’ it) into Latin, because frankly Hudson River doesn’t sound very good in Latin and I don’t want to name my lar after some random guy just because he was the first European to sail on the river. Since I’m going to name my lar after the Lenape name for the Hudson River, and because the river is really theirs more than anyone else’s, I want to inscribe some sort of acknowledgement into my lar statuette.

My question is though, would this be disrespectful? Should I add an inscription about how the Lenape named the river, and if so do you have any suggestions for what it would say? Is creating a lar to represent the idea of the Hudson River spirit disrespectful itself? (I’m addressing these questions primarily to Lenape people or to people from other tribes that may have advice, although I appreciate any good-faith input)

I’d like to add that I’m not actually religious myself, I don’t worship lar or spirits, nor do I perform rituals, I just love Roman history and love the Hudson (and really just the land of New York) so I wanted to pay homage to both with a shrine, sort of like an art piece. I have a lot of reverence for these things, not in a spiritual way exactly, but I care in a very personal sense about them.

I know that a lot of native tribes have had important spiritual connections to places and/or land, but I havent been able to find out how the Lenape people feel about the Hudson/if it was or is of religious importance. I am white, I don’t know any native people personally, and as I said I couldn’t find a place that seemed right to ask this question, except here I hope. If you know of a better place to ask, please tell me that too.

I appreciate everyone who has read through all this rambling, thank you :)

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[dumb-doll-lips]

Love your lips by the way! Plus the fact you're a dirty little slut in the office makes you a dream come true 😘

Awe thank you lots. And well I am ‘working’ from home. I usually am. But when I’m in the office I am iduallu taking some slutty picture (like the ones I’ve been reblogging larely) and have def fit in a bunch of edginf there too.

Lush game time: if you send an ask my reply will include a link to control it for 5 min.

[britneyshakespeare]

I began, by being singularly cheerful and light-hearted; all sorts of half-forgotten things to talk about, came rushing into my mind, and made me hold forth in a most unwonted manner. I laughed heartily at my own jokes, and everybody else's; called Steerforth to order for not passing the wine; made several engagements to go to Oxford; announced that I meant to have a dinner party exactly like that, once a week until further notice; and madly took so much snuff out of Grainger's box, that I was obliged to go into the pantry, and have a private fit of sneezing ten minutes long.

I went on, by passing the wine faster and faster yet, and continually starting up with a corkscrew to open more wine, long before any was needed. I proposed Steerforth's health. I said he was my dearest friend, the protector of my boyhood, and the companion of my prime. I said I was delighted to propose his health. I said I owed him more obligations than I could ever repay, and held him in a higher admiration than I could ever express. I finished by saying, "I'll give you Steerforth! God bless him! Hurrah!" We gave him three times three, and another, and a good one to finish with. I broke my glass in going round the table to shake hands with him, and I said (in two words) "Steerforth, you'retheguidingstarofmyexistence."

I went on, by finding suddenly that somebody was in the middle of a song. Markham was the singer, and he sang "When the heart of a man is depressed with care." He said, when he had sung it, he would give us "Woman!" I took objection to that, and I couldn't allow it. I said it was not a respectful way of proposing the toast, and I would never permit that toast to be drunk in my house otherwise than as "The Ladies!" I was very high with him, mainly I think because I saw Steerforth and Grainger laughing at me—or at him—or at both of us. He said a man was not to be dictated to. I said a man was. He said a man was not to be insulted, then. I said he was right there—never under my roof, where the Lares were sacred, and the laws of hospitality paramount. He said it was no derogation from a man's dignity to confess that I was a devilish good fellow. I instantly proposed his health.

Somebody was smoking. We were all smoking. I was smoking, and trying to suppress a rising tendency to shudder. Steerforth had made a speech about me, in the course of which I had been affected almost to tears. I returned thanks, and hoped the present company would dine with me tomorrow, and the day after—each day at five o'clock, that we might enjoy the pleasures of conversation and society through a long evening. I felt called upon to propose an individual. I would give them my aunt, Miss Betsey Trotwood, the best of her sex!

Somebody was leaning out of my bedroom window, refreshing his forehead against the cool stone of the parapet, and feeling the air upon his face. It was myself. I was addressing myself as "Copperfield," and saying, "Why did you try to smoke? You might have known you couldn't do it." Now, somebody was unsteadily contemplating his features in the looking-glass. That was I too. I was very pale in the looking-glass; my eyes had a vacant appearance; and my hair—only my hair, nothing else—looked drunk.

Somebody said to me, "Let us go to the theatre, Copperfield!" There was no bedroom before me, but again the jingling table covered with glasses; the lamp; Grainger on my right hand, Markham on my left, and Steerforth opposite—all sitting in a mist, and a long way off. The theatre? To be sure. The very thing. Come along! But they must excuse me if I saw everybody out first, and turned the lamp off—in case of fire.

Owing to some confusion in the dark, the door was gone. I was feeling for it in the window-curtains, when Steerforth, laughing, took me by the arm and led me out. We went downstairs, one behind another. Near the bottom, somebody fell, and rolled down. Somebody else said it was Copperfield. I was angry at that false report, until, finding myself on my back in the passage, I began to think there might be some foundation for it.

A very foggy night, with great rings round the lamps in the streets! There was an indistinct talk of its being wet. I considered it frosty. Steerforth dusted me under a lamp-post, and put my hat into shape, which somebody produced from somewhere in a most extraordinary manner, for I hadn't had it on before. Steerforth then said, "You are all right, Copperfield, are you not?" and I told him, "Neverberrer."

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens, Chapter 24: My First Dissipation