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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years

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BNHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks

PT 2 Here

PT 3 Here

Genre: smut, obviously

Warnings: NSFW themes, hard kinks, BDSM kinks, lots and lots and weird kinks

Other: felt horny, wrote this

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy

Characters: Hawks, Bakugou, Dabi, Shigaraki

Keigo Takami/ Hawks-

Authority Kink- mans has spent his entire life being bossed around, he needs you to submit to him completely and without question. Call him ‘sir’ and he’ll melt. When he’s in this mood, there’s no room for brattyness. Just bend over and let sir take his stress out on you.

Wing Kink- Pretty self-explanatory. The underside of a bird’s wings are very sensitive, and get them horny in no time. Same thing with his back, one when you were cuddling, you were playing with his wings and massaging his back, and you noticed he had his face hidden and he was breathing kind of heavily. It was an embarrassing situation to explain...

Breeding- This one comes more into play during Nesting Season, he just has you pinned down and just keeps going and going and going, trying to fill you up with his babies even if you want get pregnant. You’ll always be his little breeding slut. Even better if you have a bird or lizard quirk and you lay eggs (infertile usually). Even with a male reader he’d want to ‘breed.’

Pegging- He likes to bottom sometimes, so that he can whine and cry and beg and be a good boy for his y/n. Expect him to come home from work feeling more tired than stressed. Total pillow princess. He needs you to fuck him into the mattress so hard that he’s only flying tomorrow.

Praise/body Worship- This goes both ways. You’re his everything, and he wants to make sure you’re aware of how much he appreciates you, but he’s so insecurities that he needs it in return. Soft, teasing touches, whispered I love yous, doing so wells, my pretty baby, go a long way for this man.

Dirty Talk- he wants you to know just what he’s going to do to you, how he’s going to fill you up so good, make you need him and his cock, make you cry for him to keep going, beg for his cum. Even when he’s on bottom, he’s babbling and whining. You can’t get this man to shut the fuck up. It can get annoying at times.

Bath/shower sex- this plays more into his bird instincts. Bathing/ cleaning oneself usually gets birds horny. They usually preen prior to mating season so look out for that. There’s just something about ducking you in his bathtub (jacuzzi) that gets him going like nothing else.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight-

Switch- this man will present as a top, but he has absolutely nothing against getting manhandled and having the life fucked out of him. Just so long as he can do the same to you. Fuck him rough and good and then take his revenge tomorrow.

Rigger- after all he’s been through, he does not wanna be tied up at all. But he has no problem with handcuffing you or wrapping your pretty body up in Shibari and watching you struggle against them. Will totally tease you the whole time.

Gags- You’re still talking? You need to shut the fuck up. Or else you’ve got something keeping your mouth shut. Tape, underwear in mouth, his hand or fingers, or an actual gag. Loves your muffled sounds when he asks you a question. “Want me to keep going? You gotta say so. Aw I didn’t hear anything so I guess you want me to stop...”

Dirty Talk- Just like Hawks, he can’t keep his mouth shut. But this one is spilling the dirtiest filth you’ll ever hear. Plays into a minor corruption kink. Wants you to repeat it all back to him. On the flip side, gets so flustered when you talk dirty to him. Whining about how you’re a pervert, but just ignore him, he’s hard as shit right now.

Dacryphilia- All those years of Deku crying and you think he wouldn’t have a crying kink? Thinks your tears are so beautiful, might even lick them off your face. “Aww, look at you~ crying for my fuckin cock.” Don’t be weirded out if he licks them off your face. He also cries during sex, though. It’s just too fucking good and he hasn’t had a good cry in a while. Tease him about it and he’ll hide his face, but praise him for it and he’ll cry even harder.

Praise- This man shouts enough degradations outside the bedroom, he wants sex to be different from everything else. Gets a little embarrassed first time he praises you, but if you look at him with those shy eyes and a quivering lip, he’s just gonna keep loading it on. He also wants to be praised, both out of insecurities and superiority. When he’s bottoming just repeat how amazing he’s doing, how no one else is as pretty as him. When he’s on top, he still needs you to be praising him. Tell him how good his cock feels, how he’s gonna make you cum, how no one else fucks you as good as him.

Impact Play- mostly spanking. Uses his quirk. He loves it when your skin forms a light burn in the shape of his hand. Spanks you even if his handprints don’t show up on your skin. He needs it to, just keep smacking his stomach and thighs with a paddle until he’s sobbing.

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi-

Degradation/ Brat Taming- Starting off with the roughness with this guy. These two go hand in hand for Dabi, you need to know where you belong. Underneath him, begging and crying for his cock, his mercy, anything. You need to understand your only purpose is to service him, moan for him, and be his little personal cumdump.

Hard Dom- he won’t go easy on you, no matter what, you’re not getting it sweet or easy. It’s always going to be rough, fast, and difficult. Just try and complain.

Size kink- We all know this man is hung like a donkey, too big to handle. Loves it when you’re trying to suck him off and can’t even get down halfway. Even better when he’s pushing in, and can’t get further than six inches in. Just laughs at how “your cute little hole can’t take my fat cock can it, baby?”

Sadism- Pretty obvious, he likes hurting you. Knives? He’s got plenty. Fire? More relunctant but sure. Impact play? Yes sir. Loves seeing you cry and you babble about how much it hurts. His favorite thing is to write his name on your back with light burns that usually fade in a week or so. Always takes care of your injuries afterwords.

Bondage- Can’t have his little baby trying to touch themself can he? Can’t have his darling trying to escape from him, can he? No no, you’re better off tied to the bed, taking everything he gives you like a good little slut.

Sensory Deprivation- He wants you waiting, dreading maybe, anticipating, his next moves. You don’t know where he’ll touch you, what he’s saying, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

Corruption- He has a thing for people who seem innocent, and he wants to corrupt that innocence. To everyone else, you’re naive, doe-eyed, and probably can’t do anything for yourself. He’s going to change all of that. Bonus points if you’re actually fully capable and he morphs into a co-dependant mess. This man is all Yandere nothing else.

Teasing/ edging- Loves working you up to the grand finale, then pushing you back to the first scene. You’ll never forget his laughter as you beg him for your orgasms. You’ll be lucky if he lets you cum at all. He’ll humiliate the fuck out of you for your pitiful begging.

Tomura Shigaraki/ Symbol of Terror

Mommy/Daddy/Renny (Renny is the gender neutral term for Mommy/Daddy)- This man will call you whatever you want, but this is his go-to nickname for you. You’re taking care of him in and out of the bedroom, at least until he matures.

Switch- Up until he matures, your on top of him the whole time. Loves it when you’re in control, but after certain events in the manga and anime, he starts to gain an apprentice for being on top, although being so unused to it, he has a lot less kinks for being on top than on bottom.

Pegging- self-explanatory. He was always afraid of disintegrating his dick, and anal stimulation meant most of his fingers were pointed away from his body while only two or three were touching his skin. Safer. Now he’s got a huge appreciation for anal play, anytime you see him naked, he probably has a butt plug in.

Pet-Play- he’s your dumb little puppy, okay? Treat him like a bitchy little animal and he’ll do whatever you want. Feel free and drag him around on a leash or feed him food out of a bowl on the ground.

Feet- he doesn’t know why, but your feet are such a fucking turn on. Whether you’re wearing combat boots with spikes, fancy heels with a flower on them, or normal tennis shoes. Socks, thigh-highs and tights? Man is already begging. Just step on him and give him a foot job already! He’s begging, come on!

Water sports- kind of gross, skip this one if it’s gross for you (it is for me but for some reason I’m writing about it) but it’s something he appreciates more as a top than a bottom. Controlling when you go to the bathroom, giving you so many drinks, watching you squirm, begging and crying for him to let you relieve yourself, only to piss yourself. And when you do that, he’s on his knees in front of you, drinking it. Loves how embarrassed you get. Says “anything you make is always gonna be the best” while licking his lips.

CNC- something he enjoys as a top or a bottom. Skip this one if it’s weird or wrong to you, or a trigger. Always pre-planned with a safe word and everything, but he always pretends it’s real. Something about you or him not having a choice, being forced to take whatever the other gives them, begging for it all to stop but being betrayed by your body, it all just drives him crazy.

S&M- Doesnt care of he’s the S or M. He just loves pain. Crying when you spank or slap him, watching you scream as he cuts his name onto you.

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jadelynlace · 3 years

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Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 6

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter has the after effect of the trauma call, and too many emotions. surgical mentions and medical terminology are in this chapter as well. anything in italics indicates a flash back.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

“Floki, why can I be left alone?” Ivar asked.

“Because the last time you were left alone you ended up with fifty thousand milligrams of pain killers in your stomach. Now, come here—do you know this?” Floki replied with his fingers taping the photo copied image.

“I drew that.” Ivar said back.

“Yes, you did. Where do you want it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate your body so much why don’t you cover it in something you like?”

It is sixteen hours that Ivar is in surgery. His world is dark, nothing but, with pierces of noises that he can recall. But trying to decipher them only makes the surroundings dull, caked in black and muffled with a buzz of an unruly bee hive. There are pokes of pain, he remembers the green light, and he remembers the pot hole he swerved to miss. He doesn’t remember how fast he was driving and the second he was over the yellow line made no difference for the sudden beast of a truck to find him.

Everything below Ivar’s powdered knee caps are reattached. Grueling hours on the table while he’s sewed back together like a monster. Enough time for Hvitserk to get clothes, to get you clothes, to pack a bag for his brother per your request. Even in the presence of clean laundry you can’t take your blues off yet—they’re holding you proper because you just saw Ivar that morning. You two made love in the low morning light, filled with ecstasy, his seed and then he made you eggs with extra hot sauce and hugged you tightly you were sure you stopped breathing. He told you to be safe, baby, like he did at the dawn of each shift and that he would call you when his last appointment was finished, and on his way back from shopping for supplies for the parlor and that you two would make lunch plans. In his speed, his haste to make sure he didn’t miss you before the two tone song of death would sing in the radios, he instead, became the reason it did.

Your chief shows up when you tell him the nature of the emergency. Pulling additional personnel on for overtime and they take the rig out of service and from your hands. Words don’t spare any differences and although he offers you a hug, when you take it he slips you a piece of paper.

“Remember the job you’re doing. And the change you’re making.” He whispers in your ear and you look at the folded sheet. It’s a photocopy of a poorly drawn fire truck with an even worse sketched stick figure, and you had scribbled it when you were five. Back when you met chief for the first time because now you hold the same badge number your father once did.

“If I give you your Dad’s old badge number, are you going to act like a jack ass like him?”

“I can’t make any promises chief.”

“I have a partner in mind for you, you’ll like him. He’s a good kid. A good medic.”

“This good kid got a name?”

“Yeah, Hvitserk. I’ll introduce the two of you.”

This is the call that shapes you as a medic, as a provider, and changes how you see things. This is the call that sends a new person out into the street, whether Ivar lives or not. This is the call that forever holds terror in your heart because he was laying in the back of your ambulance, and that was the one spot you never wanted him to occupy.

Aslaug walks through the doors and she’s already two tissues deep into a soggy mess. Hugging Hvitserk and hugging you and you wish you were meeting this woman for the first time under any other circumstance. Floki thanks you and you don’t quite know why, even though the words fall heavily and un-calming, he still thanks you. And when the surgeon returns before the four of you, you’re the only one that doesn’t stand. But he calls your name because you know him, he was lab staff that tested you for your certifications and he told you that you’ll make a damn good medic one day.

“Remember what I said on the day of your exam?” He asks and you nod, puzzled and impatient looks on the other faces. “You are a damn good medic—you both are.” He adds, eyes jumping from yours to your partners. “And it shows on this call, of all of them.” Hvitserk’s shoulder nudges you and you only nudge him back, perhaps little too hard in your delirious state. “Essentially what we did, was replant the lower portion of each leg. Now, given the extent of his injuries and how his body handles such, I don’t have a clear cut answer for you on his overall mobility. He may need to have screws implanted, he may need prosthetics. He’s going to be in the ICU for the next 48 hours for constant monitoring. We’ll have him sedated so his body can focus on what’s at stake. He’ll need physical therapy for a long time, and he’ll likely be disabled for the rest of his life, given again, how his body handles this. It’ll be a long road. But, like I said—you two are damn good medics and that is the one reason his legs were able to be saved. I will let you know when he’s moved to the ICU.”

You look back at your partner and his face is as blank as yours; influx of emotions just ready to dive from the void but your minds are still churning, still processing all of what boomed from the doctor’s mouth. Ivar’s chance at returning to a normal life was resting in your hands and you two gave the best damn efforts and they worked. The countless hours of dissection, wondering if you’re cut out for this career, these responsibilities, hours of trauma and blood and vomit all fizzle away because you now know that you are. And it just took Ivar to prove it.

When your eyes open again there’s a sharp pierce in your temple, scrunching eyes together and slowly moving, your head rises from Floki’s shoulder and the lights in the ICU have dimmed in the late hour. Impressions stood between his nostrils, falling like petals over his cheekbones, bleeding through split brows and pink flowers through the depths of his neck. His chest sinking and fainting with time, there was a moment of deafening silence when you are looking at his body; seemingly so small under the contraptions. The depths of earth, and the worst hell was seeing him lay on this cot. He’s only sedated now, even though Ivar looked of death, he was still alive under the harvest of wires. The words of how “we’re doing all that we can” do not bring any more comfort, they just take Ivar like a wave rapidly back out to sea. And now you understand how your patients, and their families feel when you speak the same phrases to them. The clinical assessments do not stop a rigorous schedule, motoring for the possible failure. The room is kept warm, and every so often when you will yourself to peek in, you can see the sheen of sweat that’s over Ivar’s forehead, dancing across his chest under the stickers, the monitors. The capillary refill on his toes show promise, and when the nurse says that to her doctor, you find yourself attempting the same motions on your thumb nail. Pressing the pink away and making room for the white, and then in a quick release, the pink swarms back. The ultra sound machines reminds you of the new equipment in your rig as it assess arterial blood flow every hour.

IV bags drip, slow and agonize and the change of wrappings, dressings and cleaning of both the limbs and Ivar himself collect. You spend hours watching the fluid levels sink, his eyes flutter, his fingers in his hand dance and you grow cold because you just want to hold him. To lock him in a steel tower and to constantly remind him how strong he is, because you know the longest road will not come from learning to walk. It will come from Ivar trying to find that he is worthy to live on.

Blackness had retired across your cheeks, wrapping a veil of makeup that melted into battle scars and you could not move if your body depended on it. Aslaug sits next to you; she takes her time wiping the makeup off from under your eyes, the soiled mascara and she’s humming to you. She had been telling you how when Ivar was young, she would sing to him and it would calm him down. How she sang to him in the hospital after he tried to overdose, tubes pumping his stomach as she blamed herself for such wrong doing. How Hvitserk blamed himself because he gave no one a warning cry. And how she’s singing to Ivar now, even though he can’t hear it, because it comforts the three of you as a whole.

When your eyes follow the nurse into the room, you can hear her say something to Ivar and you watch his head turn in confusion. Grogginess and a fog on his brain as she talks to him like it’s a normal conversation; wishing him a good morning, how the weather looks promising for a beautiful day and you wish you had that level of bed side manner. You never get the promising parts of the journey; you get the patients that are coding and in a rush to the life saving team in the hospital. You love the ones who tell you their entire live’s story in the back of the rig on the way to the emergency room, sharing details and calming your mind with how simple, and yet how different every walk of life is. The nurse says something about you, about Hvitserk and Aslaug and Floki, out and waiting and ready to see him when he’s fit. You wave through the glass and there’s the tease of a smirk on Ivar’s face, even in his slightly sedated state. A dastardly, bastard smirk and his hand lifts off the bed slightly, wiggling his fingers back to you. The tears start up again, pounding a sledge hammer through your skull after all of the unruly pressure and messes of crying as your body tries to go numb.

“Where’s my mom?” You hear Ivar say in a voice that muted slightly as the nurse stands in the door way to exit. “Can I see my mom?” And the nurse nods. Aslaug stands and kisses your hair line as she walks into the vicinity, Ivar watching her and you need to back up, you need to walk away from the room, this hall way and this battle. A faint wheeze goes through your chest and Floki catches it first before Hvitserk has a chance to lift his head and open his eyes.

“Let’s walk, dear,” Floki says and his voice is not authoritative but it still demands you to comply as he loops an arm around your shoulder. “Walking can help to clear the mind.” It’s your first time outside in almost three days, and the sunlight burns you like you had been its victim on a sand covered shoreline for one too many hours. The hospital grounds are manicured, they’re neat and arranged with an abundance of flowers and colors in the open air but everything to you still feels so dull and lifeless, pointless and hopeless and walking only churns your thoughts to double, triple in size like a snow ball rolling down a hill.

You’re finally allowed in to see Ivar and you approach slowly, like touching him will seer you suddenly, stain you with a unremovable pattern and you’ll forever be reminded. His blue eyes are dull and groggy when they open, the nasal cannula wrapping his face and your eyes dance over the scurf collecting on his jaw, and the faint bruising, cuts and scrapes on his skin.

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps and you kneel by the bed, tears already on their journeys to streak your tried skin and Ivar’s needle poked, IV covered arm comes to wipe what he can reach. “You were there, weren’t you?” And you can only nod, eyes still damp and you relish in the touch he gives you only if it’s for a second. “You saved my life, baby,” Ivar finally adds and that makes the whimper start again, the choke of a sob in your throat and he tries to quiet you, slithering a quick noise from his lips and you rest your head against the bed, his hand still on your hair.

“I drove the ambulance over a hundred miles an hour,” You finally say and they’re the first words you can use to process the trauma you two had lived through together.

“That’s my girl,” Ivar smiles, speaking with a voice that sounds like sandpaper.

“I love you Ivar—no matter what happens, I love you so much,”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Ivar says and his voice is weaker now and he needs rest. “Kiss me before you go?” He says with eyes scanning your face, and you can’t deny that now. Pressing your lips softly against his, your hands cupping his cheek and you hope it’s not the last kiss you’ll ever get from him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Ivar tells you. “I’m afraid. But I’m not going anywhere,” You nod as he speaks, a forehead against his for a second and his hand is still trying to reach on you where he can. This is the man that would pull the tubes and the wires from his chest if he could, if that would make him get closer to you. “You’re stuck with me,” And there’s a faint snicker after his words, weak and drowned out from the normal tone but you’ll take it after not hearing his voice for three days.

“I’m stuck with you,” You say back with a small smile. But it still doesn’t bring enough hope.

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ithehellisbucky · 3 years

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For You

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: “I love you isn’t always enough.”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Angst to end all angst. PTSD, depression, spiraling, fighting, break up, sad shit.

Author’s Note: I meant for this to be out on Sunday because I wrote it last Monday but I forgot. Anyways this is really sad, but I'm proud of myself because I wrote the ~spoiler alert~ "breaking up to protect the reader" but its the reader doing to breaking up.

When it takes a century to find happiness, you thought it would stick.

From the moment that Bucky walked into your life (literally, walked into your bookshop) you knew that you wouldn't leave him behind any time soon.

There was something about him that would float around in your heart forever until you saw him again, and then the process would repeat.

The first 6 months of your relationship was a honeymoon phase. Waking up to him staring at you in adoration every morning. He stayed at your apartment every day. Cuddling in the middle of the night when he had nightmares, holding him when he was scared to touch anything.

Showing him your love in any and every way you could. Making misshapen pancakes together, and him showing you his favorite movies and books from the 30s and 40s. Pure happiness.

But there was something about Bucky that couldn't sit still. He can't live your little happy life knowing that there is someone out there.

It had caused many fights, you never wanted him to go back to crime-fighting, and he wanted to prove himself. And as much as you tried to tell him that he was already a hero, he was persistent that he had to make up for things that the man that used to live in his brain did.

It drove you crazy.

You were laying on the couch reading a book and absent-mindedly watching a mediocre television show you've seen twice before. You hear each of your locks click twice and from the weight of his footsteps and settle back down into comfort.

"Hi, baby." Bucky walks over to you and presses a kiss onto your forehead.

"Hi honey, how was therapy." You ask as he snuggles into your embrace and you put your book down.

"Boring," he exclaims as you stroke his hair.

"Boring is better than bad, I'm proud of you," He smiled at you and pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

Instead of saying the 'I love you' that you wanted to say, you replaced it with: 'I'm proud of you', 'Stay safe', and 'honey' 'baby' 'sweetheart'.

It wasn't what you wanted, but it'd have to do until your love was ready to hear it.

"I'm making pasta, when do you wanna eat?" You exclaim, wrapping your legs around his torso, and realizing that you are fully entangled in a cuddlefest.

"Maybe an hour, I'm never hungry after Dr. Raynor."

You nod and can tell he understood your response.

You hold each other in blissful peace, eat your food, and go to bed. Bucky does things a certain way to sleep. He wraps his body around yours and sleeps closer to the door, so if someone tried to attack he could protect you in an instant. When he can't sleep he goes into the living room and lays down on the floor to watch tv. He's never slept comfortably before, so it's hard to sleep in safety.

Apparently, tonight was one of those nights. You woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

You reach over and notice that the bedsheets are sweaty and his shirt is on the ground near the door. Bucky was fine with his arm around you, it took some time to show him that he's worthy of love- prosthetic included.

You walk towards the door wearing only one of Bucky's shirts and underwear with little flowers all over it.

"Hey Bucky, are you okay..." Your voice trails off when you notice Bucky staring at the tv with hollow eyes and an unrelenting gaze. "Baby what's wrong?" You slowly walk closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, even though all you want to do is run to him and hold him.

At first, you think that he doesn't notice until he turns around and shows tear-brimmed eyes. "He gave away the shield."

He can't seem to say anything other than that, so you reach over and hold his face to your neck. You help him get up and walk over to your room and your bed, not bother to pick up his bedding or turn off the tv. You lay gently down in bed, and hold him close to you and let him sob into your chest.

The next day Bucky's acting odd, to say the least. But you don't push it, he's been through enough in the past 24 hours. Finding out that the pretty much only constant in your life was in the hands of a stranger isn't something you can take lightly.

He left in the morning and he didn't come back until late at night. When you ask him where he was he shrugged and ate a single-serving pizza in a record three minutes then went straight to bed, leaving you eating leftovers by yourself in the dark. Not exactly the perfect day.

The same happens for the next 2 days, and then the next day he doesn't come home, and all you get is a text that he'll be home back Sunday. That leaves you with paralyzing fear for the days he's gone, and when he comes back to you at 3:30 in the morning he has a black eye and knuckle-shaped bruises all over the parts of his body you can see, which is no small feat considering the super-soldier serum pumping through his veins.

"Where the hell have you been Bucky?" You yell once he's sat down on the couch like nothing ever happened.

"I was doing stuff." He shrugs and clicks on the tv.

You snatch the remote off the table and turn it off. "You can't just disappear for days and act like nothing ever happened!"

He rolls his eyes and gets up, beginning to walk towards the bathroom "Don't walk away from me! You don't get to walk away from this!"

He turns around and glares at you with the gaze that you've seen him use plenty of time at guys who were checking out your ass at bars.

"Why the hell can't I?" He spits out and towers over you.

"Because this is a relationship and you can't walk away whenever you want to and expect everything to be fine!" His anger doesn't intimidate you. "What the fuck did you expect me to do? Bake you cookies and shampoo your hair when you got home?

I'm not your bitch and you're not a liar, so tell me what's going on." You exclaim, hoping that he'll tell you something other than what you know is really going on.

"I was out with Sam."

"Oh my god," you sigh, turning away from him.

"There's this group called the flag smashers, and they're trying to cause a revolution or something," you run your hand through your hair, "and the new Captain America was there, and he's not a good guy, so me and Sam were-"

"No. No Bucky no." He seems slightly taken aback, but what honestly was he thought was going to happen.

"I don't care if you run around beating up bank robbers or making amends for things you didn't do, I do care that you lied to me about something that could've killed you."

"I know it's just-" He says, scratching his head with his metal arm.

"It's just what? That you want to help people? There are plenty of things you can do to help people other than getting beaten up Bucky!"

You take a deep breath and think it through more, "you know what, I'm blowing it out of proportion, you were just trying to help Sam and you were scared, let's just talk to Dr. Raynor and figure something out tomorrow."

You turn to go to bed and notice that Bucky isn't following "what's wrong?"

Bucky takes a deep breath "I'm not seeing Dr. Raynor anymore."

You turn around, angrier at him than you've ever been, "what?"

"John, the new Captain America, wants me to be focused on the mission, and therapy is just a distraction."

You can practically feel anger boiling through your veins. "Do you even hear yourself? You sound crazy. I would be fine if you went on missions or teamed up with Sam, but you can't stop going to therapy Bucky."

"Yes I can; the whole point is that I can make my own decisions. It's my choice." Bucky exclaims, yelling at you louder than you thought he ever would.

"Okay. If you think that making decisions is about ruining your life because you can, go ahead." You look him straight in the eyes, all fear gone. "you can quit therapy and implode all the progress you've made" you take a deep breath "and get out of my house."

Bucky drops all of his anger and steps back in shock and fear. "What?"

"I'm not going to let you ruin your life Bucky. When I met you, you wouldn't even let me see your arm. I've realized, that you are dependent on me, and that's not okay Bucky, because you deserve better than only having one good thing."

You were holding back tears, but in this moment you needed to help Bucky, and the only way to do that was to make sure he would be okay. And he can't do that if you are the only thing in his life. "You had nothing for 70 years Bucky, and now that you have the whole world you can't keep holding on to one person. You lost Steve, and then you were desperate to find something else to hold onto. You need to find yourself Bucky."

"No, no please don't do this. I- I love you." He starts crying and it takes everything in you not to run to him and hold him.

"Love isn't always enough Bucky." You turn around to leave your apartment in the middle of the night, "I love you more than anything, but I can't let you ruin your life. Go back to therapy, Buck, I'll be here. I'll wait. Go live the life you finally have Bucky. I love you."

You walk out your door and the second you close it you start sobbing. You wander out into the street and wonder if you did the right thing.

You hoped and you begged and you pleaded that Bucky would discover the world that he deserved. You wouldn't abandon him, you would make sure he stayed alive, he just needed time to be free. This wasn't for you, you reminded yourself, it's for Bucky.

Always for Bucky.

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libsterslobsters · 4 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

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capricorn-0mnikorn · 3 years

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An expanding list of details in my personal Santa-Lore:

Prompted by this post about The Santa Clause franchise, and my own Free the Elves campaign, and this review of the horror film Rare Exports, I thought maybe I should make a list of my own, expanding, thoughts about the folklore figure of the great Gift-Bringer, that we have named (for the time being) “Santa Claus” (some things contradict other things -- that’s the way with lore):

My Primary Lore:

The Good/Naughty distinction has nothing to do with whether you are modest, and quiet, and obey Authority, but whether you are kind, and reciprocate generosity, vs. whether you bully others and are a source of injustice.

The poem, attributed to Clement Clark Moore, “A Visit From Saint Nicholas,” is actually the narrator recounting a dream he had, and might not tell us anything substantial at all about the Gift-Bringer’s reality.

The Gift-Bringer is actually more like a semi-sentient weather phenomena, then a flesh-blood-and-bone mortal being, and is dormant most of the year.

The elves are in control, and are the Gift-bringer’s caretakers / keepers

The elves don’t actually make the physical toys, but rather, tweak the fine threads of fate to get the right gifts to the right people✨

In the extremely rare cases where the Naughty (as determined by the criteria above) interfere with the Gift-Bringer as they (it) sweeps through a house, the Naughty person is caught up, and brought back to the Workshop/Home base, where they are kept until they can be returned home the following year (during the Gift-Bringer’s next release).

During that year, the Naughty are given the task of getting the right gift to one Good person, and must stay until they succeed -- not as punishment, but just the way it works -- like gravity isn’t “punishing” you when you step off a ledge, and you need to take steps to climb back up again.

From these legends’ very beginnings, the Gift-Bringer’s home has always been beyond the boundaries of the Storyteller’s known world. That was in Spain for those storytellers in northern Europe in the 1600s, and the North Pole for Americans in the mid-to-late 1800s. Nowadays, it’s probably a dwarf-planet sized Snow Globe, orbiting somewhere in the Oort Cloud (Wikipedia link, if you don’t know what that is)

My Secondary Lore (my response to the Mainstream Version of Santa Claus in the Thomas Nast and Disney visualizations -- and also that version in Rare Exports, above)

The elves started out numerous and wide-spread, and every shape and size -- from tiny, spider-like creatures, to giants

But a malevolent force (being) took them over, Borg-like (or Cyberman-like, depending on your sci-fi of choice), converting them into uniformly small, humanoid, form, and made to be toy-making robots for the Controlling Being to deliver, and get all the credit.

If they ever break free, they will revert back to their ancient forms and lives.

✨ Such as a story I heard on a call-in radio show, over 20 years ago, of a school teacher who bought a brightly colored, flower-framed white board and marker, as an impulse buy, and put it in the trunk of her car.

A couple days later, she went to a meet-Santa event for homeless families, and one little girl was crying her eyes out because that Santa gave her a doll, but the only thing she really wanted was a white board, because she liked to write.

And the teacher was able to say: “Oh! Santa wasn’t sure you’d be here today, so he gave me your present for safe-keeping. Let me get it from the trunk of my car.”

#Christmas lore #headcanon #storytelling

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lyracasstuff · 4 years

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I'm glad you enjoyed reading it, especially since I'm not too sure yet in my writing skills yet..(⌒_⌒;)

However,, can I just say that BOTH of those ideas sound good?? I'll be honest in saying that I wouldn't mind doing the both of them, but in their own respective posts of course..

But for now,,the prompt that I'll be focusing on today would be Margie x fem! S/o

❤Margaretha x fem! S/o💃🏻

One day,, you were walking around the manor looking for your sweetheart Margie,, asking the other survivors and even some hunters about her whereabouts..

Until Joker came up to you and said that she had been at the manor's garden practicing *something*

He didn't know what that *something* is when you asked him about it. So you made it a point to yourself to figure it out on your own..

Once you were in the garden,, sure enough you saw Margie dancing to a song,, then shortly finishing it with a closing pose right at the center of the garden surrounded with all the pretty flowers with the sunlight hitting her *just right* that makes it seem like the spotlight is on her..

She looked so ethereal,, you can't help but think to yourself that she truly IS deserving of being a dancer....(´∀`)

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you started walking towards her..

Margie heard some light footsteps,, so she opened her eyes, quite pleased and happy to see that it was her darling Sugar Plum Fairy who had come to visit and check up on her..❤

((Can you tell that I like giving nicknames to readers depending on their request????))

"Sugar Plum! Oh, what a joy to see you!! May I ask what brings you here?"

You explained that you were looking for her, and asked her what was she doing practicing a dance for??

Margie said "I'm so sorry you had to look for me s/o! I was just practicing a dance that I thought you can dance to, I know you like seeing me dance, but I also would LOVE it if I could get you to dance with me!"

Now,, let's face it, but you probably aren't as amazing of a dancer as Margie over here and KNOWING that, it made you a tad *bit* nervous...

But Margie assured you that she had come up with a routine that is easy enough for you to understand and follow.

And so,, the practice has begun!( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

The both of you spent some time practicing the routine.. With you may or may not fumbling over your footing countless times..(^_^;)

However, Margie is quite understanding and patient of your mistakes..(^.^)

"Aww, don't be so down on yourself Sugar Plum, you'll get it correctly over time!"

It was like that...... For a while...

Because at some point in the choreography, the routine called for numerous spins, twirls, and leaps. They weren't really hard to do

But the AMOUNT of times that you had to do it would make anyone feel dizzy and nauseous.. And you were no exception..

Spinning around only to entangle your legs like ropes intertwined together, twirling around and bumping into Margie, or leaping then SOMEHOW landing straight into your face which made Margie terribly concerned..

"Oh dear, are you okay Sugar Plum?"

You had some dirt and minor cuts on your face but nothing really fatal((thank god...))

After recovering from the fall,, Margie suddenly let out a small laugh, you can only presume it was because of your mistakes.. "My sincerest apologies for laughing, however, I must say that your attempts were quite humurous, dear.."

You can't help but snicker at her comment, since you WERE quite silly at your attempt to learn the choreography.

Margie stared at you lovingly for a second or two before her expression changed, almost seemed as though a light bulb had lit up on the top of her head...

Margie then stood a little away from you... Then proceeded to imitate and exagerrate your actions earlier..

From spinning too comically fast to leaping while flailing her arms wildly, she was recreating your "dance" while giggling every once in a while..

Honestly,, with anyone else, you might feel a little insulted, but for some reason, you find it charming and endearing when it's Margie who's doing it, so you can't help but just smile and giggle along with her..

You stood up, walked up to her, and tell her that you'll show her the "proper" way and for her to follow your lead.. I mean, you can't just let her have all the fun right??

Margie knew you what you were up to,, but she still followed suit while giggling "hehe, very well! Please show me the "proper" way of dancing, madame!"

From there,, the both of you began your "dance lessons"...（・∀・）

From prancing around the garden while interlocking arms like small children, Margie dramtically dipping you SO down your head almost touches the ground while she has a rose in her mouth, to running and leaping around throwing flower petals everywhere..

You both had a lot of fun, needless to say..( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

When the both of you are all tired out,, you two had decided to lie down on the grass to look up at the light blue sky that's starting to turn orange due to how late the afternoon it was..

While you two were catching your breaths from your silly shenanigans, you would point out some weird shapes in the clouds and Margie would do the same in return..

You once pointed out a cloud that was in the shape of an elephant that slowly turned into a lion...

Margie was quite amused by how the clouds can drastically change like that..

Finally, when the both of you were fully rested, you two got up and started tidying up the garden from earlier..

"I must admit s/o, it's been such a long time since I'm able to have fun like this! The last I felt this way was when... I was younger. So thank you s/o..."

You knew what she was talking about, it was her "experiences" before she met you. So to hear her like this, it made your heart melt, to know that you could be someone to make her happy in these times..

For a while, you two have been staring at each other, almost as if you're communicating each other's feelings

Margie then stepped forward and closed the distance between you two with a sweet kiss as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

You were taken a back at first,, then soon returned her gesture by hugging her close by wrapping your arms around her waist.

You both had stayed like that for a couple of minutes before you parted. Margie smiled softly while interlocking your hand with hers..

"Come now Sugar Plum, it's getting late already, the others might be worried about us if we stay here for too long. We'll just have to practice the routine for another time, hehe.."

And with that, the both of you made your way back into the manor before dusk. You never really learned the routine at that time, but to see your sweetheart smile in exchange was definitely worth the price..❤

💃🏻❤💃🏻❤💃🏻❤💃🏻❤💃🏻❤💃🏻❤💃🏻❤💃🏻❤

Author's note: Second headcannon request done!! Like I said in the beginning I'll be writing for the Fiona x fem! S/o prompt sometime after I finish the other requests people have sent me, but for now, this will have to do..（⌒▽⌒）

Also,, Happy Valentine's/Single Awareness Day!!ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ❤❤❤

May you all be happy with OR without a special someone!!（⌒▽⌒）❤

Until next time!! I'll see you all in my next post!! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ💚

#identity v #identity v x reader #identity v imagines #identity v headcanons #identity v female dancer #idv #idv x reader #idv headcanons #idv hcs #idv female dancer #idv margaretha zelle

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rockshortage · 3 years

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Pancake, bouquet, hibiscus, maple leaf, rose, camera, scissors, crown, pencil, ribbon, package, train, bicycle, droplet, rainbow, glowing star, and broken heart for hector

very long post incoming

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

Not me googling swiss breakfast to jumpstart my brain

I was gonna say waffles at first but tbh that’s more of a dessert item to me

So here’s for an unbearably swiss word: Birchermüesli

It’s kinda like enriched cereal, starting with a base of oats and either milk or yogurt (or both). Then you add sliced fruit of your choice, usually apple and banana, sometimes berries, and some nuts if you want until it’s a big ol concoction of sweet tasting things

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

This is the messiest ass bouquet, I only looked at flower meanings and did not care at all about how they would look when put together. How many different flowers does a bouquet usually have anyway. I’m sure this is too many

King Protea as the centerpiece cause it’s big. It represents ingenuity, diversity, transformation and courage

Dracula/Monkey Orchid just to piss him off. Symbolizes evil, death, power and absolute authority, so it works with the whole Overboss thing too

Echeveria. Little orange succulent flowers that symbolize endurance and have built in sunscreen

Edelweiss because he’s swiss and it’s a symbol for alpinism. Also deep love, purity, loyalty and notoriety, which I guess can work depending on the context

Gentiana is also a symbolic flower for the Alps in Europe and it’s a very pretty blue

Forget-Me-Nots: local man has bad memory. Maybe these flowers will help

Rudbeckia/Black-eyed Susan: symbol of encouragement and motivation. Go grandpa go

Celosia: shaped like fire, symbolizes immortality, affection, warmth, humor and friendship

Helenium/Sneezeweed, which stands for tenderness and tears, since hector is a man of delicate constitution

Featuring Forget-Me-Nots as the problematic favorite because they’re cute little blue guys that are nice and a bit uncommon to see in the grass, but the name feels very rude to him specifically. Both a nice sentiment and maybe even symbolic for hope that he’ll remember what’s important, but at the same time feels like they’re singling him out because his brain bad

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

Aside from the big glaring one known as the sun, I haven’t quite decided yet.

I still think it would be funny if Hector was deathly allergic to Just One rare / exotic food that would have to be imported from somewhere and he doesn’t know until he's already eaten it

Another really funny one would be a mild allergy to peppers and chillies, so it’s both his being a weak little white man and an allergy no one’s aware of that makes him so pathetic at handling spicy food (they only start to suspect it when they get their hands on a normal ass bell pepper and hector is certain that it’s spicy)

But uhh that’s just throwing out ideas, I am indecisive

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

Fall/autumn because all the leaves turn his favorite color, the sun starts being out for less long in the day, temperatures are cooling down a little but they’re often still pleasant. Also Halloween

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

He never cared for it for multiple reasons, such as not having a significant other and being forced to perceive more PDA than usual. Also, it’s rooted in Christianity. Now that he does have a significant other, he’s not really sure what to do, but definitely more inclined to get Darryl a present on that particular day as opposed to any other. Although if it’s clear she doesn’t really care for it either, he’s probably just gonna throw it back out the window and forget it’s a thing that people celebrate. After all, he loves and appreciates Darryl every day of the year, not just that one time in February

Also laughing a lot at the thought of Jack giving Hector a little present Back In The Day to try and drop a hint, but Hector either does not understand or hates it due to the Christian roots of the holiday. As you might expect, he’s never confessed or given a valentine’s day gift to anyone before (until Darryl).

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what's their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

He knows he doesn’t photograph well, so he may need some convincing to join in for a group picture. Although if he’s with friends and having a good time, he doesn’t mind or may even go out of his way to have a picture taken. Doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to pose like so he just kinda stands there. Sometimes throws up a peace sign or devil horns to pretend he knows what he’s doing

Sometimes forgets to smile or at least not look deadpan when he’s not wearing his mask because he’s used to not having to check his facial expressions. Can be highly comedic when looking back on the picture later

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

He’s very loyal, so if he built a relationship with someone that was working out well for the most part and is now going downhill, it’d take him a long time to cut them out. The last straw is simply a single action part of a long string of negative behaviors that Hector first had to learn to recognize.

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

He’s not really picky, as long as it’s something positive. Scientific pursuits would be nice, or if people think that he ended up making for a good overboss. But he’d be perfectly happy if there’s even one or two people who remember him as a good friend.

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

Uhh well there’s the entirety of Ich weiss es nicht by Lindemann, which on the surface seems to be about dementia, but I’ve seen some deeper interpretations too. Anyway, there are a few lines about sunlight as well, so everything together just screams Hector to me. Here’s some excerpts

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

Not sure about specifics, but I imagine he'd do well as a character in the horror genre

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

Most likely to cry in the movie theater

Most likely to forget someone’s birthday

Most likely to give bad advice

Most likely to embarrass himself in front of strangers

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

Panic and do nothing, trying to pretend he was never there

🚲 BICYCLE - can they ride a bike? what do they remember from learning to ride a bicycle?

He can, but is likely a little rusty from not doing it in a long time.

Doesn’t remember a thing about when or how he learned it (likely learned it from science dad)

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

Terrified of the day one of his close friends dies, but the worst part about it is that he’s sure he’ll forget them eventually. And that’s the worst thing he could imagine doing to someone he really cared about

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Fight for himself, yeah, but maybe be a little bit less of a dick about it and let people in from time to time

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

He’ll always be amazed at the sheer scale of everything, the universe so vast he couldn’t possibly wrap his head around it. He’ll be trying to spot specific stars that he knows the names of, or try to imagine where different planets and other celestial bodies would be relative to the sky he’s looking at. On a more sentimental note, those are still the same stars they’ve always been. When he looks at them today, they’re still the same stars he looked at ages ago when he was a child. Time is meaningless but it’s also a little comforting.

As long as he’s comfortable with a person, he’s down to stargaze with them. ...if they don’t talk his ears full about astrology.

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

It takes him a long time to accept the fact that someone could like Hector for him and not for how useful he can be to them. Because of his flaws and not in spite of them. So if they were to one day decide that wasn’t true after all, it’d be pretty damn heartbreaking.

#hector messerli #ask meme #😘

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tipsycad147 · 3 years

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Using Magical Poppets and Dolls

You're the only one who can decide what's ethically acceptable for you. Michelle Constantini/Getty Images

By Patti Wigington

Updated January 05, 2019

The magical poppet is one of the most commonly used implements in sympathetic magic, which follows along on the theory that “like creates like.” Although TV shows and movies typically show poppets as the stereotypical "voodoo doll," poppets have been around for a long time, and used in a number of different cultures and religious belief systems. There are many ways to create a poppet, and they can be used to harm or to heal; if you create a poppet of a person, anything done to the poppet will affect the person it represents. Bear in mind that some magical traditions discourage the use of poppets. If you're not sure whether or not it's okay for you to use poppet magic, you may want to check with someone in your tradition.

A poppet is usually made from cloth or fabric, but you can also make one from clay, wax, wood, or just about any other material. You can fill your poppet with herbs, stones, bits of wood, paper, or anything else that suits your needs. In addition to magical items, it's a good idea to include some cotton or polyfill as stuffing material.

Once the poppet is created, you'll need to connect it to the person it represents, which is typically done by using a magical link of some sort. Remember, the poppet is a useful magical tool, and can be used in a variety of workings. Use it for healing, to banish harmful people from your life, to bring abundance your way — the choices are practically limitless.

Poppet History

Fetish dolls on sale at a market in Togo. Danita Delimont/Getty Images

When most people think of a poppet, they automatically think of the Voodoo doll, thanks to this item's negative portrayal in movies and on television. However, the use of dolls in sympathetic magic goes back several millennia. Back in the days of ancient Egypt, the enemies of Ramses III (who were numerous, and included some of his harem women and at least one high-ranking official) used wax images of the Pharaoh, to bring about his death. Let's look at some of the historical uses of poppets in spellwork.

Greek Kolossi

It wasn't uncommon for the Greeks to use sympathetic magic in workings related to love or war. Christopher Faraone, Professor of Classical Languages and Literatures at the University of Chicago, is one of the foremost authorities on Greek magic today, and says that Greek poppets called Kolossoi were sometimes used to restrain a ghost or even a dangerous deity, or to bind two lovers together. In Idyll 2, The Witch (Pharmakeutria), written about 200 b.c.e., the tragedian Theocritus refers to melting and burning wax dolls. He relates the tale of Simaetha, rejected by Delphis, attempts to get her lover back with magic.

The Princess Who Played with Dolls

Wax dolls certainly weren't limited to the ancient classical world. The one-time Princess of Wales, Caroline of Brunswick, was married to the man who later became King George IV, and evidently couldn't stand him. She spent many hours forming wax dolls of her husband and jabbing them with pins. Although there's no concrete evidence as to what this may have done to George, when Caroline ran off to Italy with her young lover, George didn't object. The royal couple remained married but lived separately until Caroline’s death in 1821, according to Witchcraft and Evidence in Early Modern England by Malcolm Gaskill.

West African Fetish Magic

West African slaves brought with them a doll called a fetish when they were forced to leave their homes and come to the American colonies. In this case, the doll is not so much representative of an individual, but is in fact possessed by spirits connected to the doll’s owner. A fetish contains significant power and is typically worn or carried by its owner as a talisman. During America's Colonial period, slave owners were allowed to kill any slave found with a fetish in his possession.

American Hoodoo and Folk Magic

In American Hoodoo and folk magic, the use of poppets as a magical tool became popular following the Civil War. There is some dispute as to whether the dolls are used at all in Haiti, which is the home of Vodoun religion, and a few sources disagree on whether the use of poppets is truly a Vodoun practice or not. However, the Voodoo Museum of New Orleans does stock a variety of dolls in their gift shop.

Regardless of how you make your poppet — out of cloth, a chunk of meat, or a glob of wax, remember that poppets have a long tradition behind them, and that tradition is influenced by the magical practices of a wide range of cultures. Treat your poppets well, and they will do the same for you!

Make Your Own Poppet

Photomorgana/Getty Images

A poppet can be as simple or as elaborate as you like — it all depends on how much time and effort you want to put into it. You can construct one out of just about any material — cloth, clay, wood, wax. Use your imagination! In some magical traditions, it's believed that the more work you put into it, and the more complex it is, the stronger your link will be to your goal. Because a poppet is a device for sympathetic magic, all of its components will be symbols of what it is you hope to achieve.

You can do your poppet-making as part of the working itself, or it can be made ahead of time so you can use the poppet later on. Which method you choose is really up to you.

Remember, your poppet represents a person, so figure out before you begin who it symbolizes. Is it you? A friend who's asked you for help? An un-named lover you want to bring into your life? A gossip you want to shut up? The possibilities are endless, but just like in any spell working, you'll need to set a goal before you begin. It keeps you from having to deal with "do-overs" later. These instructions are for a basic poppet construction, using fabric. Feel free to modify your design as you need to.

Selecting Your Fabric

There are no real rules when it comes to choosing your material, but it's not a bad idea to select fabric based on your goal. If you're doing a money spell, use a piece of green or gold cloth. If you're looking at healing, perhaps something in a soft blue or silver would be best. Check out fabric stores around the holidays, and you can find all kinds of neat patterns.

Valentine's Day designs are perfect for matters of the heart, and there are plenty of prints with dollar signs, coins, stars and moons, and other fun designs.

Another option is to use fabric that links the poppet to the person it represents. Doing a healing spell for a friend? Ask the person for an old t-shirt. If you're trying to draw love into your life, consider using a scrap from that sexy lingerie you wore last night. If you just can't find the right material, use a plain muslin or white felt. Here are a few ideas for designs and colors for poppet magic.

Animals: Brown or green fabrics, patterns with cats or dogs, anything pet-related

Banishing: Black fabric, designs such as swords or wands, dragons or fire

Creativity: Orange or yellow fabric, prints of suns or other fire symbols

Healing: Silver, white or blue, with designs of clouds or other air symbols

Love: Pink or red material, designs like hearts, roses or other flowers, Cupids

Money: Silver, gold or green fabric, or designs of dollar bills or coins, cups or earthy symbols

Protection: Red or white material, with patterns of shields, keys or locks, fences, mistletoe

When it comes to types of fabric, use what's easiest for you to work with. Cotton prints are easy to sew, but if you've never used a needle and thread before, you might want to try something stiffer like felt — it comes in every color you can imagine, and will hold its shape as you sew. If you're an experienced sewer, use anything you like.

A poppet represents a person, so ideally it should look (sort of) like a person. Give it a head, two arms, two legs, a torso. You can make your own outline or you can use the ultimate poppet pattern — a gingerbread man. If you're doing a spell for an animal — such as a healing spell for a sick pet — make the poppet shape accordingly. Your poppet doesn't have to be huge, but it should be big enough that you can stuff it with your ingredients later.

Take two pieces of your fabric, and place them right side together on a flat surface. Place the pattern on top, pin it in place, and cut it out. Leave a little room around the edges for a seam allowance — usually a 3/8" margin is good. Remove the pattern, and there are your two poppet shapes. Time to start sewing!

If you've never sewn anything by hand before, don't panic. It's not hard, but it does require some patience. You could always use a sewing machine if you're pressed for time, but most experienced poppet-makers agree that it's worth the effort to do it by hand. Pin the two pieces of material with the right sides together, and stitch around the edges. Leave an opening somewhere, wide enough to stick a couple of fingers in. Turn the poppet inside out, and begin stuffing.

Personalize Your Poppet

Fill your poppet with something soft, like polyfill or cotton balls. Old pantyhose work nicely too. Work the stuffing all the way into the nooks and crannies of the arms and legs, and then fill the torso and head.

This is where you'll place your spell components — herbs, stones, whatever. In some magical traditions, something from the person represented goes inside the poppet. This is alternately referred to as a taglock or a magical link — it can be bits of hair, nail clippings, body fluids, a business card, or even a photograph. Once everything is inside, sew the poppet completely shut.

The more you can customize your poppet, the better. Even if you've placed a magical link, or taglock, inside, you'll want to decorate the outside too. Draw or paint or sew a face onto your doll. Add yard or string for hair. Dress your poppet in something that looks like the person's clothing. Copy any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing features onto the poppet as well. Add magical or astrological symbols if you like. While you're doing this, tell the poppet who it represents. You can say something along the lines of, "I have made you, and you are Jane Jones."

Your poppet can be used for any number of things—love, money, protection, healing, to get a job. Anything you can imagine, you can make a poppet to bring it about. Simply figure out your goal and the means to achieve it. The only limits on poppet construction are your own creativity and imagination.

6 Easy Poppet Projects

Make protective poppets for each member of your family with modeling clay. amanaimagesRF/Getty Images

Not sure what sort of poppets to create, or how you can use them in a practical application? Try one of these six easy ideas for making and using your own poppets.

1. To Get a Job You've Applied For

Material: satin, green or gold or silver

Herbs: clover, chamomile, ginger, cinnamon

Gemstones: snowflake obsidian or sodalite

Create a poppet to represent yourself. As you make it, focus on the positive attributes that you possess which will make you appealing to a potential employer. Another option is to create the poppet in the image of the employer (include business cards or letterhead inside, if you can get them) and tell the employer poppet why you're the best person for the job.

2. To Protect Your Family

Material: Modeling clay

Herbs: Basil, patchouli, coffee

Gemstones: Hematite, amethyst, black onyx.

Create poppets that represent each member of the family, blending herbs and stones into the clay. Put them in a safe place in your home, such as near your hearth, and utilize magical shielding or cast a circle of protection around them. This is actually a fun project you can get your kids involved in as well — let them each make their own poppet person!

3. To Heal a Sick Person

Material: White cotton or unbleached muslin

Herbs: Lemon balm, feverfew, ivy, and pine.

Gemstones: Bloodstone, turquoise

When you make this poppet, be sure to indicate what you are trying to heal, whether it's a case of tennis elbow, a chronic infection, or even a broken heart. Focus all of your energy on the ailment in question.

4. To Bring Love Into Your Life

Material: Red or pink silk or cotton

Herbs: Rose petals, parsley, and peppermint

Gemstones: Barite, jade, rose quartz

Make a poppet to represent the object of your affection — remember that in some magical traditions it is frowned upon to make a specific person the target of your working. If you are simply trying to attract love to yourself, but you don’t have a specific person in mind, focus on all the desirable qualities you want to see in a potential lover.

5. Silencing a Gossip

Material: Ground beef or other squishy meat

Herbs: Horseradish, pepper, rue, yarrow, valerian

Shape the meat and herbs into a person, and create a "meat puppet" in the same way you'd make a fabric one. As you make the doll, tell it that it's time to be silent, and tell no more gossipy stories. Remind it that people who can't say nice things shouldn't say anything at all. Dispose of the doll by either burning it on your grill and burying it someplace far away, feeding it to your dog, or leaving it out in the sun to rot.

6. Emergency Poppet on the Fly

Material: Aluminum foil

Perhaps something has come up in a hurry, and you feel it needs immediate magical attention. Use a piece of aluminum foil to whip together a quickie poppet — shape it into the figure of a person. Fill with any magical components that might be handy — bits of wood, dirt, grass, even a name scribbled on a piece of paper — and personalize the poppet.

Need additional poppetry ideas? Try making a magical gingerbread poppet, or put together a portable poppets kit to keep in your magical arsenal!

https://www.learnreligions.com/what-are-magical-poppets-4072783

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cheekysos · 4 years

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Between Hate and Lust Part Two

Ashton Irwin x Plus Size Reader

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took awhile for me to post. Thank you for the feedback on part one, I hope you enjoy part two and I plan on writing a part three! I’m not writing this series to exclude any body type, shape, or size because everyone’s bodies should be accepted and celebrated. So I am very sorry if this in any way excludes anyone, that is not my intention. If there’s anything you’d like to read please leave a request in my asks and I will try my best to do it justice. If you have any feedback or ideas for part three please let me know.

Summary: Y/N is doing her best to ignore Ashton and his stupid dumb face at the wedding but he’s making it damn near impossible.

Warnings: Very brief mentions of masturbation, sexual thoughts, mutual pining, light swearing

Y/N’s POV

The morning of the wedding was a little bit of a blur to you. You barely got any sleep last night, your thoughts completely consumed with Ashton. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t give in after hours of tossing and turning in bed and reached for your purple vibrator in your nightstand. Ashton’s words from earlier playing over in your head, “Unless you need some help keeping that pretty mouth shut.” Did he really think your mouth was pretty and what exactly would he have done if you didn’t keep quiet? You kicked yourself for not pushing him.

The next morning you were getting your makeup and hair done, drinking mimosas with the rest of the bridesmaids and the bride to be. Your hair and makeup was simple but elegant, subtle smokey eye with loose curls half up. You were grateful that all the bridesmaids were able to choose different styles of a dress all in the same mauve color. Your dress had a fitted bodice with a halter neckline and cut right at the knee. You were trying your best to enjoy the moment and not think about how in an hour you’d be walking down the aisle next to Ashton.

Ashton’s POV

You were nursing your second cup of coffee, hoping it would take the edge off your hangover. You didn’t intend on drinking so much last night but you didn’t want to think about anything or anyone. You understood why Y/N was still upset with you and you didn’t blame her but were definitely hoping that she’d at least give you the chance to apologize. You couldn’t believe you actually said that to her, “unless you need some help keeping that pretty mouth shut.” Your temper regrettably got the better of you, which meant your dominance came out too. You were kind of torn, part of you want to put her pretty mouth to work just completely dominate her but part of you also wanted to whisk her away and worship every inch of her. Your mind was consumed with her, thinking about the way she’d feel pressed against you, how soft and sweet her lips probably are, the way her thighs would feel clenched around your head.

“I’m guessing she didn’t accept your apology?” the groom sat down next to you, interrupting your thoughts.

“She did not,” you sighed. “Can’t blame her though, I was a twat.”

He chuckled, “Mate, we’re all twats when we’re fourteen. You admitted you were wrong and apologized, that’s what’s important. Now get your ass up so I can go get married.”

Y/N’s POV

Most of the guests had arrived and it was almost time for you and the rest of the wedding party to walk down the aisle. You started to think about what Ashton would be wearing, it would be hard for him to top last night but you had a feeling he’d somehow manage to do so and he’d probably do it effortlessly too. He truly was infuriating, he’s so attractive and he damn well knows it too.

You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror before you hugged your best friend and walked out into the corridor where the rest of the wedding party was gathered. The groomsmen were all wearing traditional black suits, white shirts and black ties and yet somehow it looked different on him. He put everyone else to shame in that suit and you knew you weren’t the only one who thought so. You slowly sauntered over to where Ashton and another bridesmaid were joking around, her hand playfully slapping his arm. You intentionally shot daggers her way. You wish you could say you were surprised that he was flirting with her but you weren’t, she was petite and skinny and everything you weren’t.

“Everyone’s lining up,” you said her coldly.

You could feel Ashton’s body language shift as she said goodbye to him and left the two of you standing alone. Your mouth was dry and a massive lump was stuck in your throat. You had been thinking of what to say to him all day but now that you were here right next to him, nothing seemed right so instead you stood next to him and quietly admired him. He was so handsome, even more so up close. His jawline was so sharp and his Adam's apple was so prominent you desperately wanted to kiss and nip at his neck. He smelled like warmth and citrus, what you imagined sunshine smelled like. He had to have noticed you staring, you were making no attempts to hide it. Ashton startled you when he stuck his arm out for you to link yours in. You inhaled deeply before snaking your arm through his.

Ashton’s POV

Walking down the aisle with Y/N was tense, at least on your end. Her arm was looped in yours and she smelled sweet like vanilla and not to mention the fact that she looked stunning. She definitely knew how to accentuate all her best assets. The two of you hadn’t said anything to each other since last night but you found the words spewing out of your mouth like word vomit as you reached the end of the aisle.

“You look beautiful,” you whispered to her as the two of you parted ways.

God, you felt stupid for saying that. Obviously she didn’t care what you thought. You never struggled this much with women, most of the time it was actually pretty effortless for you; the words just flowed naturally. With Y/N it was completely different, you second guessed everything about yourself and it was driving you mad. You spent most of the ceremony keeping your eyes on the couple or at the ground, occasionally stealing a glance at Y/N. She looked poetic standing there holding a bouquet of flowers.

Y/N’s POV

The ceremony was beautiful. You were so happy for your friends and you wanted to make sure that they had an amazing night with no outbursts but Ashton was making it difficult. He told you that you looked beautiful as you were walking down the aisle. Was he trying to make up for all the nasty things that were said about your looks back in school or did he actually mean it? Of course you were hoping that he actually thought you were beautiful but you feared that he was just trying to clear his conscious. You ignored his statement and didn’t plan on addressing it but then you were all getting ready to take pictures of the entire wedding party when he came up behind you and gently placed his hand on your back. You had so many mixed emotions feeling his touch. You were desperate for it, wanted it so badly but your pessimistic nature got the better of you.

You flinched feeling his breath on your neck. “How many times am I gonna have to tell ya you’re beautiful before you answer me?” he whispered.

You stepped away from his touch, “Depends. How many more times before your conscious is clean?” you snapped. You didn’t wait for him to respond, you didn’t want to make a scene. You found your spot next to the bride and continued on like nothing was wrong the best you could.

Ashton’s POV

After your last encounter you figured it was best that you kept your distance from Y/N for the rest of the night and then after that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other ever again. Obviously that’s not what you wanted but it’s what she wanted and you respected that.

You were definitely regretting your offer to sing for the first dance, you were really just ready to get drunk again. You downed the last of your scotch before making your way to the band. After brief introductions you slung the guitar over your shoulder and walked to the microphone.

“Excuse me everyone, if I could have your attention for a moment,” you projected to the crowd. “Can I have everyone clear the dance floor for the first dance.”

Everyone cleared the space and cheered as the bride and groom made their way to the floor in front of you. You quietly counted off to the band behind you as you all started to play. They chose the song ‘Conversations in the Dark’ by John Legend, it was a perfect wedding song and honestly took quite a while to learn but you were happy to do it for them.

Y/N’s POV

The second you saw him standing on stage with a guitar you knew it was over, there was no way you’d be able to fight it any longer. His voice was unique and smooth, the way his fingers danced along the neck of the guitar sent shivers down your spine. The song itself was beautiful, you were familiar with it but the way it sounded with his voice was breath taking. The whole situation was overwhelming; your best friend getting married, your ex cheating on you, and the guy you spent most of your childhood hating standing in front of you singing. You didn’t even realize you started crying until tears ran down your cheeks. You got up from the table and hurried outside for some air. You spent some time composing yourself, wiping your tears and touching up your make-up.

You decided you were done being angry and sad for tonight, you were ready to go have a couple of drinks and dance but the universe had other plans. For the second time that weekend you were met with an unwanted face, only this time it wasn’t Ashton.

“Hiya pet,” your ex boyfriend stood there perched against the wall; a cigarette in one hand, a drink in the other and a smug look plastered on his face.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #374

“doctor, doctor, won’t you please prescribe me something? / a day in the life of someone else...”

Does someone have a crush on you but you don’t feel the same way? No. Who do you feel most beautiful around? No one. What’s one makeup item you cannot live without? I could live without any makeup. What’s the most expensive thing you own? My snake, I think. Or my laptop, idr. Are you more of a book person or a TV person? Book. Relationship status? Single. What color are most of your clothes? Black. Did you french kiss before you were 16? No, I was 16. Last song you listened to? "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? Yes. What’s your favorite thing about life? That's a big question. I guess seeing acts of mass love and kindness, reminders that we're all in this together through all hardships. Who pays for the first date? Whoever asked the other person out, imo. Who has always been there for you? My mom. Have you ever written on a wall? No, at least not to my memory. Do you play any computer games, if so, what ones? I think anyone who reads these by now knows, haha. I don't much play anything else. I prefer console games. What would you name a baby boy if you had one? Probably Damien or Victor. What would you name a baby girl if you had one? Alessandra, no questions asked. What lyric means the most to you? I mean there's tons, but the first one that came to mind is "for such a little thing, you sure are in your own way" from "Get Up" by Mother Mother. Like in the big picture, we humans are so so so minuscule, but with brains that are too complicated for our own good. It's my own head that creates so many obstacles for me. Who is the smartest person you know? Probably my friend Girt. Have your parents ever been to jail? No. Do you share a bed with anyone? My cat, haha. Does it flatter you when guys open doors for you? It's flattering if anyone does, not just guys. Do you enjoy taking naps? Yeah. That's like part of my daily routine. If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Nope. Is there anyone you try to be a good influence for? My nieces and nephew, but I don't feel like I am. I'm a poor example of an adult. Do you own a pair of fishnets? No, but I have a pair of fingerless fishnet gloves. Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, pancakes, waffles, bacon or cereal? All are great, but french toast. Yes or no: eyebrow piercings? I'd actually have one if I didn't have glasses. I think I'd look weird with one as I look now. When I say "The Beatles," what is the first song that comes to mind? "Hey, Jude." In your opinion, what is the very worst type of weather? Extremely hot and humid. You can only listen to one band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? Ozzy Osbourne, of course. Can you snap with both of your hands? Yeah, but it's harder with my left. What is something that you had to learn the hard way? For some people, promises don't mean shit. If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you paint it? Maybe like a light peach. When was the last time you got butterflies? I think not since Sara told me I look really pretty in eyeliner. ;_; <3 When was the last time you felt like your heart was actually breaking? There was this one time I was listening to "The Ghost of You" by MCR a while after finding out about Jason's mom's death and I just like... broke. When’s the last time you were in a line? When I was getting my second COVID shot. Do you trust the media? HA! Fuck no. If you could kill off one species of animal, which would it be? At first I was appalled by this question, but like... do wasps serve a purpose? Of all fauna, they annoy me the most. I mean bees are already endangered enough, and they prey on them. They don't pollinate, so like... why are you here. I may be mistaken and they have a valuable role, in which case I take all this back. Who’d you last say I love you to? My mom. What’s the most overpaid job in your opinion? I have on idea. Most jobs are underpaid. What’s the last thing you wrote down? I was doing some paperwork at the TMS office on my first day there. When’s the last time you heard a gunshot? I don’t know. What are you looking forward to? Now that my tattoo (which looks fucking stunning, by the way) is out of the way, I can focus on other things. I'm particularly looking forward to hopefully seeing the results of TMS manifest (which should take 3-4 weeks). It sounds horrible, but I'm also keenly awaiting this dog we're stuck with to go somewhere... The person who gave her to my sister to give my mom won't take the dog back, and we can't find another option that doesn't risk her being euthanized, which we absolutely do not want. We just don't know what to do, but she's driving Mom and me INSANE. Do you listen to online radio stations? No. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? No. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Multiple things. Have you ever ate so much you puked? Ugh, no. That sounds awful. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? Very much, sadly. Would you rather eat cookies or brownies? I gotta say brownies. Which YouTuber have you learned the most from? I mean, this depends on the subject. From Mark, I've learned most about life and how (I think) to be a good person, but there's a lot of pet channels I watch that have taught me loads about proper husbandry. This answer just depends on what knowledge you're talkin' about. Who would you want to be the flower girl at your wedding? Probably a niece. Do you want to be married within the next ten years? It'd be nice. Do you feel like your life is too fast-paced, or do you wish it were busier? Ugh, I wish it was busier. My days are a COMPLETE, routine drag. What are some hobbies which you want to pick up? I want to just be more artsy. I wanna draw and write more, and I'd love love love to be in healthy enough shape to handle going on walks with my camera. There are sometimes I miss editing videos, too. I'm unsure about completely new hobbies. Does anyone encourage you to go after your dreams? My family and a few friends. Oh, and definitely my psychiatrist. What group are you most active in on Facebook? None, really. I mostly just observe. Are you ashamed of anything? A number of things. Primarily not having a job at my age or even being in school. What were your favorite Disney rides as a kid? I loved Splash Mountain, I think it was called. What were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? Never been. What are some places you want to visit that you’ve never been? South Africa, Alaska, Canada, Yellowstone National Park, Bahamas, Venice, Rome... What are some places that you’ve been that you’d like to go to again? Disney World, Chicago, and this one super clear lake I swam in once a few hours away that I don't recall the name of. Have you ever owned a succulent? No. While they're pretty, I've never been much of a plant person. Do you support small businesses? I REALLY want to start doing that more when I have the option to buy my own stuff/have my own income. As someone who wants to be a freelance photographer, I get it. Starting an independent business is hard as hell. If a brand were to sponsor you, which brand(s) would you prefer? Uhhh I dunno. Have you read the entire Bible? No. Do you make bucket lists for each season? No. That does sound kinda fun, though. How old were you when you first dyed your hair? I have no idea. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ I desperately want to, though. It's just not something we can afford to spare cash on. What is the most comfortable type of pants, in your opinion? Pajama pants? haha Do you think you could ever be famous? No. I'm way too boring and don't want to be anyway. What are some jobs you’ve had in the past? Sales associate, cashier, and deli worker. None lasted long whatsoever. What are some jobs you want to or would like to have? List five. FIVE? I don't know. I just know I want to be a photographer. Well, being an artist or poet would be very cool. And a reptile breeder, maybe tarantulas, too, but that makes me kinda nervous with JUST how many babies they have. What are some jobs you have considered? In rough order from youth to now: paleontologist, vet, movie director, game designer, author/poet, artist, music video editor, wildlife biologist, photographer... Maybe there's more that just aren't coming to me. Are you thankful for social media, or do you wish it didn’t exist? Depends on the day for me, but I'm generally thankful for it so I can keep up with the lives of people who are important to me. It's just that it's a breeding ground for self-doubt and rampant comparisons that can easily depress me when I see some people are "further ahead" and more "established" than me. What are some of the best medications you’ve ever had? The combined efforts of Latuda and Lamictal saved my life. What was a video you watched over and over as a kid? There were lots of movies, like The Lion King, a certain Barney one when I was very young, and I watched Finding Nemo like crazy. Do you know a lot of people who were loving, and then turned cold? Jason????????????????? Is that you??????????????????????????????????????????? Do you own anything plaid? Ha, what a coincidence, I'm wearing my red plaid pj pants. Are you good at remembering names? Definitely not. Have the cops ever gotten on to you for anything before? No. What email thingy do you use? (yahoo, gmail, rock) ... Rock? lol anyway my main is Hotmail, but I inevitably have a gmail to have a YouTube account. What game system(s) do you own? PS2, Wii, Nintendo DS Lite, and a GameBoy Advance. Are you any good at Guitar Hero? I used to be; I played most songs on Expert, then some really tough ones on Hard. I was soooooo addicted to those games. I remember when I got the first one for Christmas, I literally played it all day. Have you ever played Call of Duty? Nah, not my jam. What is your favorite/most visited website? YouTube. Is your bed comfortable? Sure. I've definitely had way worse. Do you have a garage? No. Fun fact, I've never lived in a house with one. Should you be doing anything right now? What? There's a number of things I could be doing that are definitely more productive, like finishing decorating my damn room. Do doctors or dentists make you more nervous? Not really. I only ever get nervous to hear my weight at the doctor's. Did you ever think you were about to die before? I don't quite know. When I ODed, it was more like I didn't care if I did. Have you ever really had a near death experience? Was it cool? "Was it cool." Literally fuck off. I guess you could technically consider my OD a "near death experience," especially given how many pills I took, yet I somehow experienced almost no ill symptoms. Maybe because we got to the ER for fluids quickly enough, idk. I'm just glad I didn't die. What is your favorite kind of weather? Snowy! Like a steady snowfall of large flakes with no breeze and total silence. *chef's kiss* Ever tasted beer? Ugh, no. Just the smell makes me sick. It was my dad's drink of choice when he was an alcoholic so I just have a very negative association with it. Have you ever seen a dead body? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Ever poured salt on a slug? As kids, my sisters and I would get our parents to do it because they grossed us out. So, so cruel. I still have this weird but pretty extreme phobia of them, but I wouldn't torture the things like that.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''don't let me get me'' by p!nk

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autistic-girl-academic · 3 years

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Hypmic OC Crew: Freestyle Angels

so I’ve seen a lot of people posting their Hypmic OCs lately, and that made me want to buckle down and finalize the details for mine!

An all-female team based out of Tokyo’s Minato Ward, the Freestyle Angels are technically an independent crew - they got together to drive out crews who were abusing their claims to the territory, but aren’t interested in winning more territory themselves. (Not that they’d qualify for the DRBs anyway, of course.) Rather, they serve as a foil/rival team to the Chuohku trio.

Sumire Kuino, AKA Queen of Street

“Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much” - Helen Keller

Occupation: Humanitarian aid organizer

Birthday: October 7th

Age: 30

Zodiac: Libra

Height: 6′0″

Weight: 165 lbs

Blood type: AB

Likes: Bargains, fixing things, dogs, birdwatching

Dislikes: Wastefulness, unpaid debts, technology, selfish people

Favorite food: Chazuke

Least favorite food: Fugu

The daughter of a corrupt businessman and his mistress. Her father was an associate of Sairo Tohoten, who helped him flee the country when he got in trouble with the authorities, leaving a young Sumire and her mother behind. Sumire’s mother, only viewing her as another mouth to feed, likewise abandoned her daughter once she’d found a new lover. Frightened at the possibility of ending up in an orphanage, Sumire struggled to fend for herself on the streets until she was taken under the wing of an older homeless man named Takayoshi. He would go on to raise Sumire as his own, with her quickly coming to call him ‘Grandpa’ and taking on his family name. Over the years, Sumire became increasingly protective of him in turn, and he and his circle of friends would jokingly call her ‘queen’ for her assertive, take-charge nature; Sumire was always exasperated by the nickname, but grudgingly grew to accept it.

Takayoshi was the sort of person who was always willing to lend a hand and always kept an eye out for those who needed it, and Sumire followed his example. After he passed away, she became a guardian for anyone with nowhere to go, spending her days building shelters, distributing food, and standing up to whoever threatened the people that depended on her. She had fleeting hopes that the Party of Words would remedy some of the ills plaguing society, but found that little changed once the H Age began. Before the formation of the Dirty Dawg, Minato Ward went through a tumultuous period where it rapidly changed hands between many crews who abused their power. Sumire stole a set of Hypnosis Mics off of one such group and began using it to defend the defenseless, forming a duo with Ageha Hinokuchi called the Rough Diamonds, then a trio once they met Kaori Sakuragi.

Her microphone takes the shape of a street sign, while her speakers are a graffiti-covered castle made from debris. Her ability, Bulwark, decreases the damage done to her allies, albeit at the cost of taking it herself. Her personal rapping style is based off of Hime.

Personality-wise, Sumire’s an incredibly caring person under an intimidating exterior; her default stone-faced expression rarely changes and she speaks very bluntly. She won’t really judge or try to control the choices of those she helps, but if she needs to put her foot down for someone’s own good, her naturally commanding presence makes it hard to not do what she says. She’s a quick learner who can fix up just about anything she puts her hands on (with the exception of hi-tech gadgets) and a highly efficient penny-pincher; show her something with a high price tag and get ready to hear a thorough breakdown of just how many groceries it could buy. Her biggest flaw is that she doesn’t always take care of herself as well as she does others, requiring her teammates to step in and force her to take the occasional break.

She deeply respects Jakurai’s work, but finds Hifumi too flashy for her tastes. She’s also helped Dice a few times in the past, but he finds her kind of terrifying and tries to avoid her. The one person who can immediately make her lose her composure is Rei; plenty of his victims have ended up on the streets, and one of them even committed suicide despite Sumire’s attempts to save them. Unless her teammates stop her, she’ll attack him on sight.

Ageha Hinokuchi, AKA HI-FLYA

“Once freedom lights its beacon in man’s heart, the gods are powerless against him” - Jean-Paul Sartre

Occupation: Fitness & self-defense instructor

Birthday: May 6th

Age: 28

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: 5′6″

Weight: 138 lbs

Blood type: B

Likes: Pro wrestling, action movies, dancing, the beach

Dislikes: Muscle cramps, energy drinks, smoking, conformity

Favorite food: Barbecue

Least favorite food: Sea cucumber

A former member of the Party of Words. As a child, she lost her parents to an armed robbery, leading her to support Otome’s goals of eliminating conventional weapons from Japan. However, she increasingly found herself unable to turn a blind eye to the ways in which the Party manipulated innocent people. Once she learned about the True Hypnosis Microphone, she attempted to sabotage the facility where they were produced, but was discovered. In the fight that followed, a fire broke out; she fell from a great height into the flames and was presumed dead by the Party members who had been trying to apprehend her. However, a friend of hers in the group discovered that she’d survived and smuggled her to safety. After recovering from her wounds, she took on a new name and face, leaving her old identity behind to become Ageha Hinokuchi.

Her goal of stopping the Party of Words remained unchanged, and for a while she was constantly on the move, collecting evidence of their crimes and trying to come up with a way to stand against them. In Minato Ward, she happened to cross paths with Sumire Kuino, who had stolen a set of Hypnosis Microphones and was using them to defend people in need. Though initially reluctant to use one herself, she was forced to when Sumire was outnumbered and lured into a trap. Sumire, who was a firm believer in always repaying what she owed, asked what she could do in exchange for Ageha saving her life. This sparked a deep bond that eventually led to Ageha divulging her past to Sumire, and they formed a duo known as the Rough Diamonds. They later met Kaori Sakuragi and rechristened themselves the Freestyle Angels (incidentally, Ageha came up with both names, the latter because she was a fan of Charlie’s Angels).

Her microphone takes the shape of a portable music player held on an armband and a pair of headphones with butterfly wings on them, while her speaker is a four-sided boxing scoreboard. Her ability, Reverb, allows her to hit her opponent twice in one go, although the second hit isn’t as strong. Her personal style is inspired by Akkogorilla.

In contrast to Sumire, Ageha is fun-loving, always wears a smile, and is overflowing with energy; this is largely due to regretting how she previously lived, as someone blindly obedient who didn’t fully appreciate the joys of life. She can quickly befriend just about anyone and is a bit of a flirt, but only to tease. All of this belies a keen observational eye, though, and she’ll play up being an airhead to make others underestimate her. She knows a wide variety of martial arts, with kickboxing and aikido being her specialties. Because she currently lives and works in Roppongi, she’s also good with foreign languages.

Ageha is a big fan of Sasara’s comedy routines. She's suspicious of Ramuda because she knows he was involved with Chuokhu, but isn’t fully aware of his nature as a clone. Likewise, she detests Rei for having worked on the True Hypnosis Mic, but is much better at hiding it than Sumire.

Kaori Sakuragi, AKA wallflower

“Be not another, if you can be yourself” - Paracelsus

Occupation: Self-employed craftsperson

Birthday: December 5th

Age: 20

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Height: 5′3″

Weight: 116 lbs

Blood type: A

Likes: Homemade things, aromatherapy, reading, gardening

Dislikes: Cameras, busy places, the dentist, controlling people

Favorite food: Croquettes

Least favorite food: Beef tongue

Child-star-turned-idol, lead singer of the wildly popular group ‘Cutie Blooms’, Kaori seemingly vanished off the face of the earth one day. In truth, years of constant media presence, overwork, and pressure to please her demanding stage mother had driven Kaori to have a mental breakdown. Unable to be in the presence of other people without suffering severe panic attacks, she shut herself up in her apartment just before the start of the H Age for two years. When a paparazzi tracked her down and began harassing her for interviews, she fled and became lost on the streets of Minato-ku, but was rescued by Sumire Kuino and Ageha Hinokuchi. Seeing them wield their Hypnosis Mics in her defense reminded her of her original love for singing, and she begged them to make her the third member of their crew.

While her teammates have been helping her work through her trauma, Kaori is still afraid of having her face or voice recognized. She keeps her features obscured by glasses and masks as much as possible, prefers to stay out of sight, and primarily communicates through a tablet that reads out what she writes; she’s very quiet and stammers a lot when she does speak. During her years as a shut-in, she learned to provide for herself in a number of ways, such as growing her own vegetables and making clothes and other handicrafts, the latter of which she sells online.

Her microphone takes the shape of her tablet and stylus, while her speaker is a greenhouse that overflows with more and more flowers as she gains confidence during battle. Her ability, Tongue-Tied, scrambles her opponent’s speech. Her personal style is based off of Haru Nemuri.

Kaori is sensitive, timid, and somewhat pessimistic, but still possesses a very strong determination deep down at her core. She despises the fake persona that was forced upon her by the idol industry and wants to “win back her true self”. The more comfortable she gets around someone, the more she shows her passionate and cheerful side. She’s also very creative and good at memorizing small details, but at the cost of sometimes getting lost in her own thoughts and not noticing what’s going on around her.

She’s an avid reader of Gentaro’s novels, having sent him lots of anonymous fanmail in the past. She’s also recently started listening to Jyushi’s music.

#hypmic #hypmic ocs #oh god i wrote so much HELP

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

1062.

Have you ever started reading a book and wondered if you’d read it before? >> IDK where on earth Lane got this survey from but it is long as balls and I’m taking it as a personal challenge at this point lmao. LET’S GOOO I’ve never had this experience, no. I don’t always remember the content of books I’ve read, but I at least remember the experience of reading them, I guess?

What has been bothering you a lot lately? >> Oof. I don’t know how to explain it here so it makes sense to the average reader, so I won’t bother making sense. I want Bruni to be a real, external entity, so badly, but if he’s not then I need to know. I need to know if I just created him, because I needed to, so I can come to terms with that and figure out what to do about it. I’ve also been bothered lately by just... my inability to form connections, to feel the way I’m supposed to feel about other people. Knowing why I’m like this (and knowing that it’s not some inherent flaw of mine but a direct result of not being emotionally taken care of when I should have been) only helps a little. I feel like there’s no way I’ll ever be able to fix this, and my only truly fulfilling relationships will be Inworld, forever. (I guess that’s better than nothing, though! At least Inworld exists.)

What (or who) have you been missing lately? >> ---

Are you trustworthy? >> I mean, I guess. I don’t know what anyone would be trusting me with.

Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? >> No, even a white lie would have gotten me punished.

Have you ever hallucinated? >> Yes.

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? >> Closed, to keep both the cat and noise out.

What flags do you have in your room, if any? >> None. Sparrow has a pretty neat gay flag on her wall and a regular gay flag on her lamp.

What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? >> Hm.

What is the worst decision you ever made? >> *shrug*

Do you miss college? >> I’ve never been.

Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? >> No.

What is your favorite arcade game? >> In the Groove.

Do you feel neglected? >> Not now. But I sure do feel the ramifications of previous forms of neglect.

What school subject(s) are/were your best? >> ---

Are you allergic to grass? >> Nope.

Do you remember to water plants? >> Sometimes. I managed to kill a spider plant, though, so I’m kind of discouraged when it comes to plants. I’ll let that be Sparrow’s thing, I’m apparently unfit.

What season is your birthday in? >> Spring.

Name 3 creative people you know. >> ---

Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. >> ---

What color was your first car? >> ---

What year did you graduate? >> 2004.

When was the last time you saw the person you currently have feelings for? >> ---

Have you ever been scammed? >> Nah.

Are you allergic to pollen? >> No.

What style of wedding dress do you like best? >> Sparrow’s was pretty neat.

Are you over your first love? >> ---

Do you talk on the phone a lot? >> I never talk on the phone.

Would you rather call or text? >> Obviously text.

Do you always answer your phone? >> What do you think?

When was the last time you went to a party? >> I guess January; the get-together after Elle’s wedding was pretty much a party.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Beans and rice.

What’s the last book you checked out from the library? >> I haven’t checked a book out in a while. I heard about a book recently and it wasn’t on Scribd so I decided to check Libby just on a whim (I’m used to the books I want to read never being available as ebooks in this library’s meager collection) and they had it. So I might check it out. I feel kind of anxious about doing it because my reading habits have been so erratic lately and I’m like “but what if I don’t read it fast enough?” which, like, you know, I just... renew it... but no one said anxiety had to be fuckin logical, you know.

Do you have a twitter? If so, what was the last thing you tweeted? >> No.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? >> ---

What’s the last thing you cooked on the stove? >> Eggs.

What color is the cover of the last notebook you used? >> ---

Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? >> Uh... Sparrow, I think.

Who sent the last e-mail you got? >> YES! Magazine.

What song is currently stuck in your head? >> Just some FFXIV music because I just got done playing about an hour ago.

Do you have a favorite shape? >> No.

What color are the sheets on your bed? >> Light grey.

What time do you usually go to bed? >> Between 10 and 11p.

Do you ever use coloring books? >> I’ve done so, but I haven’t lately.

Are you planning on watching the Olympics? >> No.

Do you pronounce the word “often” with or without a “t” in the middle? Hmm. Now that I’ve said it to myself in a few different contexts, it seems I do both. If it’s a one-word answer, like in response to “how much do you get high?” then “often” has a t in it. If it comes in the middle of a sentence and is not the focus, it does not have one. < Yup.

Have you ever been on a trapeze? >> No.

Do you enjoy popping bubble wrap? >> Sometimes. I saved some from a recent package just in case I get the urge, lol. It’s on my desk right now.

Are there any waterfalls near where you live? >> I don’t think so. The landscape isn’t exactly varied here.

Do you like seafood? >> Yes.

Have you ever had to wear a uniform for anything? >> Parochial school.

If so, what did it look like? >> IDK, man, it was a long time ago.

Do you personally know anyone who is an author? >> No.

Do you own a Polaroid camera? >> No.

Do you enjoy baking? >> No.

What’s your favorite type of flower? >> Sunflowers.

Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? >> I was coming home from Houston.

Do you know anyone who is left-handed? >> Sure.

What is something you think is underrated? >> ---

Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? >> It’s not so much the temperature as the level of humidity, how sunny it is, what time of year it is, etc. There are multiple factors that go into how I experience temperature and the number on the thermometer is only one facet of that.

In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? >> ---

How often do you travel outside of the state/province you live in? >> Not often. Before it was just because it’s expensive and also Sparrow would have to take off work and stuff, and now it’s because of those reasons and also the pandemic.

What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? >> ---

What has been your favorite job you’ve had so far? >> Selling merch for local bands at shows.

What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? >> Chunky medium-hot salsa.

Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? >> ---

Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? >> This is probably the farthest north I’ve been.

Farthest south? >> I think New Orleans is farther south than Houston, but I don’t feel like looking it up to confirm (or be proven wrong).

East? >> Long Island?

West? >> Colorado.

How often do you run the dishwasher? >> Every couple of days, when it works. (We’re waiting on Maintenance to come fix it, but of course they’re taking their sweet time.)

Do you wash your face at the sink or in the shower? >> I use micellar water, so I just do it in my room. Otherwise I’d do it in the shower because I hate using the sink for that.

Name a stereotype about your gender that you don’t fit. >> Are there agender stereotypes? I haven’t heard of any.

Name a stereotype about your age that you don’t fit. >> Uh... I don’t have kids? Idk.

Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? >> If so, they’re not unusual to me, so...

Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? >> We do have a waffle iron (Sparrow got one for her birthday). I’m not sure what other kind of appliances are uncommon. Are rice cookers uncommon? I can’t imagine why they would be, they’re so convenient. Unless you just don’t like rice...

What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? >> ---

Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? >> ---

What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? >> Uh... pre-calculus? I don’t remember, man.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? >> I don’t remember. Somewhere between five and eight, I guess. Sounds right.

How old were you when you learned how to swim? >> ---

How do you react when someone is rude to you? >> It depends on the situation.

Have you ever had a friend who was too clingy? >> No.

What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? >> Blizzard, I’d imagine.

Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? >> ---

Do you have a Netflix account? >> I do.

Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? >> ---

Where is your favorite place to go on vacation? >> I guess New Orleans.

How long does it take to get there? >> About half a day, including layovers and shit. No direct flights from GRR to MSY.

When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? >> ---

What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? >> I don’t really know. I was gonna say Sparrow’s room, and then I was gonna say the kitchen, and then I was gonna say the half-bath... I think the half-bath is probably the most reasonable answer?

What is the last random act of kindness you did? >> ---

Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? >> I don’t have to reduce it, I barely use any to begin with.

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? >> Yes.

Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? >> Yes.

Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? >> Probably. Not necessarily because I wanted to, sometimes dreams just do weird shit like that.

Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? >> No.

Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? >> I guess that’s a way to put it.

If your Facebook status doesn’t get any likes/comments, does it bother you? >> ---

Which friend do you confide in most? >> ---

Do you wear a cross? >> There’s a small cross on my left earring. But I don’t wear, like, a religious cross.

What is your opinion on Arby’s? >> I’ve only had it once, and that was on the way back from Colorado that one time, when the Greyhound stopped at Arby’s. I don’t remember what the food was like, though. Not even sure why I remember that we stopped there at all.

When you have your own kitchen, how will it be done? >> I mean, this kitchen is “mine”? I don’t live with parents or anything, so...? But I don’t have a choice in how it looks or anything, I didn’t build it.

What is your favorite doughnut? >> Apple cider doughnuts, always.

Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? >> No.

Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? >> I read the first book ages ago, didn’t care for it, forgot about it (until it blew up in popularity, of course).

What is your favorite party game? >> ---

Do you or your parents rake your yard? >> ---

Were you pro-Obama? >> I didn’t have an opinion at the time, I was busy trying to survive.

What is your favorite scent from Bath & Body Works? >> ---

What was the last illegal thing you did? >> I don’t remember. Probably something like jaywalking. Or watching Bill & Ted Face the Music on an illegal streaming site.

Who did you last go to the movies with? >> Sparrow.

What color was the last vehicle you were in? >> Silver.

Do you have any family members in the military right now? >> ---

Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? >> Nope.

When was the last time you wished time would move faster? >> I don’t know.

Are there any owls in your room (as decor, of course)? >> Nope.

Have you ever heard voices? >> Not... in that sense. Like obviously I hear the Inworlders’ voices, but... not quite the same thing, I’m guessing.

Do you believe in angels and demons? >> I have not encountered those kinds of angels and demons. I usually use those words as like... shortcut terms rather than references to the actual Christian concepts or whatever.

Who is the worst neighbor you have ever had? >> ---

Did your Barbies go on dates? >> I don’t recall the specific nature of the social playacting I did with Barbies.

If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? >> I didn’t “come out to” anyone.

Where did you meet your first crush? >> ---

Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? >> ---

Do you ever go places with wet hair? >> No.

Who is your favorite little girl? >> ---

What do you want the most in life? >> That’s complicated.

What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? >> I don’t know, man.

Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? >> Absolutely.

When you’re home alone, do you still shower with the bathroom door closed? >> No. I’ve also showered with the door open even when Sparrow was home, I just usually don’t because it’s not necessary (I just use my phone flashlight in that case so it’s not pitch dark and I don’t kill myself in there). But when I’m alone I just leave the door open for the ambient light. Why don’t I use the bathroom light? Because I have Problems and Disorders. Next question.

If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? >> I like my own.

What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? >> ---

Where did you buy your dishes from? >> We generally don’t buy dishes. All of our dishes are from either Sparrow’s sister or the wedding registry.

Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? >> I doubt it.

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money? >> ---

What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever been on a ship? >> I’ve been on a ferry and a regular boat. Not a ship.

Do you ever take intentional breaks from checking/posting on social media? >> Just like... off days, I guess. Sometimes I need time to do other stuff and it’s easier to do that when I don’t have the internet wide open and ready to distract me.

Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? >> I don’t have a preference.

Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? >> *shrug* ???

What’s a class you did not take in school, but now wish you had? >> ---

Have you ever been to either of your parents’ workplaces? >> ---

What do you think of the ‘Healthy At Every Size’ movement/philosophy? >> I don’t have any thoughts about it because I don’t know what exactly said philosophy entails. The phrase itself doesn’t give me enough information to start forming an opinion around.

Have you ever been bitten so hard that their teeth marks were there after? >> Yeah.

Ever been given a hickey? (Love bite) >> No.

Ever gave one? >> I don’t think so.

Are you more of an outgoing type or shy type? >> ---

Do you think it’s weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner? >> .... No.........

Are you self conscious? If so what are you self conscious about? >> I’m self-conscious about being Weird(tm), having Issues and Problems Disorders, and having differing opinions about things that lots of people think a certain way about.

Are you flirty at all? >> No.

Are you racist at all? >> I might have perpetuated racist speech and behaviour, sure. I don’t think that means “I am a racist”, I think that means I’ve learned some fucked up shit from other people and hopefully I’ve learned better by now.

Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) >> ...

If you found a baby randomly by itself what would you do? >> Call the authorities, I guess. Like... idk??? That’s such a weird situation to be in.

Would you rather adopt or have your own child? >> ---

What would you class as cheating on someone? >> I don’t have a personal definition for cheating because the concept does not apply to me or how I do relationships.

Do you try to be politically correct? >> No.

What’s your favorite kind of sea critter? >> I’m not sure. There are a lot of cool ones.

Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before? >> Yep! <3

As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? >> Neither, I like the earrings I have.

Do you find P.E. humiliating, or think schools shouldn’t teach it? >> I found it obnoxious and boring and a waste of time, but that doesn’t mean schools shouldn’t teach it. I just had a bad time with it for my own specific reasons.

Do you recycle? >> No.

Are you interested in current world issues? >> Not particularly.

Do you think you are mature, or immature? >> ...

What kind of career are you interested in? >> ---

Do you own a pair of sunglasses? >> I own two pairs. I really want a better pair, like an actual good pair of sunglasses and not just cheapo pairs.

Do you use bobby pins, hair clips, or elastic hair ties? Which? >> No.

How badly do you get acne? (If at all) >> I don’t.

What’s the best way to cope with a breakup? >> ---

If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? >> I said something that ticked them off? I don’t smile enough? IDK, dude?

How many text messages do you have in your inbox atm? >> ---

When was the last time you had a difficult decision to make? >> I don’t remember.

In school, what subjects do/did you find the most difficult? >> English.

Do you still speak to the person you had your first kiss with? >> ---

Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? >> ---

Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? >> One of Elle’s friends that I met at her wedding.

Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? >> I don’t remember the last time someone asked me that.

What does your handwriting look like? >> I don’t know how to describe it.

Do you use any products on your hair, other than shampoo and conditioner? >> I use a tea tree oil on my scalp and that’s about it.

Who were your best friends in primary school? >> ---

Do you still speak to any of them? >> ---

What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine? >> I don’t remember the last time I used a vending machine.

What color hair did your first crush have? >> ---

What type of shoes do you find the most comfortable? >> No shoes.

Are you more masculine or feminine? >> ---

If you could design your own mug, what would you put on it? >> I don’t want to design a mug. I like the ones I already have.

What is the best beach you’ve been to? >> I’ve only been to the NY ones...

What is one thing you physically can’t do? >> Run a marathon.

Have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yes.

Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building? >> No.

Have you ever visited your nation’s capitol building? >> No.

Do/did you have a favorite seat in church? >> ---

What is your favorite park? >> I still really love Central Park. And Prospect Park, too.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? >> A very minor aftershock, once.

Do you chew gum regularly? >> Not anymore, not after Orbit ruined my favourite kind. :(

Where did you go on your first train ride? >> I think that was to North Carolina when I was 17.

Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship? >> No.

What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) >> ---

Do you dunk your cookies in milk? >> Nope.

What is something you are confident about? >> ---

Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What? >> No.

How do you feel about needles? >> I don’t have any feelings about them, they don’t affect me either way.

What is your favorite accent to listen to? >> ---

What was the reason you last got dressed up? >> Halloween.

Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? What were they? >> Maybe at some point, but I don’t remember now.

Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? What about on your preferred gender? >> I prefer looser clothing. Not baggy, per se, just looser.

What do you do when you are really, really mad? >> I don’t know, I haven’t been that mad in so long I have no idea what I’d do.

Would you rather go naked than wear fur? >> Fuck no????

Do you put a line through your 7’s? What about your Z’s? >> Nah.

What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgivable? >> *shrug*

Are you able to forgive and forget? >> Mehhhh.

Do you like cold pizza? >> I really do not.

What is your favorite fruit? >> I’m not sure, I like most fruits.

What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit? >> ---

Do you like broccoli and cheese? >> No! Leave broccoli alone, christ.

What about potatoes and cheese? >> Not really?

Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom? >> No.

Toaster or toaster oven? >> We only have a toaster, but I would love a toaster oven.

What are you most known for? >> ---

Do you have any reputations? What are they? >> Er...

Do you wear band shirts? What band was on the last one you wore? >> I do. I’m not sure what the last one I wore was.

Do you own any hats? Describe them. >> I have a plain floppy beanie and I have one that says “I don’t need no body” and it has a dancing skeleton on it, lol.

What about masks, you got any? Describe those. >> Yeah, I have a raven masquerade mask. I forget why.

What was the last thing to leave you speechless? >> I don’t remember.

Do your parents like your friends? If they don’t, why not? >> ---

Have you been called a bad influence? >> I don’t think so.

Describe your favorite pair of socks. >> I don’t have a favourite, per se, but here’s a fun pair I have: they say “eat, drink, and be spooky” or something very similar and have a fun Halloween design on them.

Have you experienced any life-changing news, events, etc, lately? >> No.

Have any self-done piercings? >> Not anymore.

Ever pierced someone else? >> No.

Do you get distracted easily? >> By things like sound and motion.

Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful? >> It can really go either way. Sometimes it’s just neutral.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? >> I don’t care. They’re probably just going to be loud asses too.

How many ceiling fans are in your home? >> Zero.

Do you tweet your life away? >> I don’t tweet at all.

How do you feel about shameless self promoting? >> I don’t care?

When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods? >> Yeah.

What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS? >> Yes, which is why I hate when people type like that. There’s a popular blogger on this website that makes all their posts in all-caps and I will never fucking understand it. Like, their content is fun sometimes but I can’t really engage with it because I hate the shouty text!

#surveys #survey #random survey #not for reblogging *glare*#i made it through. dear god #(probably because half the questions i didn't even have answers for)

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mahou-war · 4 years

Text

MagiTale - Chapter 1

“So, how’s it gonna be?” – the voice rose up, surging from the darkness. A white weasel cat like creature.

“Go away!” – another voice, female now, hissed back. The figure of this voice was hidden by the shadows of the collapsed walls around her – “I don’t want to have anything to do with you. You tricked all of them! Their innocent minds, into becoming something they’d rather not!”

“I really don’t understand.” – the cat spoke – “You might as well be labeled as a Human, your ideals and concepts are roughly the same. But I digress.” – it stopped momentarily – “My offer is still on the table. You know where to find me.”

The cat turned away, seamingly wanting to distance itself from the other individual. It felt as if its time was wasted, but that didn’t exactly matter at the moment, as it knew what the next actions would turn out to be.

“Wait!” – the other voice jumped from the darkness – “Can you.. Can you really make anything come true?” – she questioned.

“Yes. Of course, as you already know, the true effects and consequences depend from your Karmic Weight, but you shouldn’t have any kind of problem with that.”

The other being made a pause. Her voice was calm, motherly, but sprinkled with a dash of urgency. As if her worst nightmares could finally end. Now her dreams, her ideal life, her past, it would all come back to her.

“Okay then. I’ve decided.” – she replied.

“Very well. Then what is the wish you’re willing to sacrifice your Soul for, your highness?”

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Chapter 1: Fallen Down

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Dark. Darker. Yet darker. I don’t even know if my eyes are open or not, but all I can see is darkness. Well, that and a distant voice echoes, as if I was deep underwater. A cold shiver envelops my whole body. But within that darkness, the voice gets louder. It’s lifting me up. With that, the darkness gets a bit more clearer. I open my eyes, slowly, and everything starts coming to me, bit by bit.

“Frisk! Oh, please tell me that you’re okay!”

I avert my gaze to the point of origin of the voice. A girl sitting on the same bed of flowers as I am looks at me, worried. Her hair is dark brown, just like me, and her eyes are a striking, vibrant red, just like my own. Except mine are usually closed. The girl is slightly see through. I can look at her and see the wall behind her at the same time. I know this girl. Yes, she’s important to me.

I was roughly 5 when I started noticing her presence. Everyone treated her as an imaginary friend, but I knew more. She was real. She IS real. She has a real story, and a real life. But now she’s a ghost that got stuck me. I don’t exactly know why though. She told me about Humans and Monsters. About Souls and Soul Gems. About Magical Girls and Witches. She told me everything. Even her name.

“Chara. Yes, yes, I’m okay.” – I managed to reply back at her.

“Oh, thank God! That fall was sure to put in you in a coma for at least half a year! I’m so sorry I’ve put you through this…” – she replied back at me, a clear worry in her voice.

“Don’t worry Chara. I signed up for this. I want to do this.” – it’s funny. My brain knows what to say, but it can’t remember why it’s saying what it is. I look around myself. I’m now sitting on a bed of flowers, golden buttercups. Giant walls of stone surround us, with vines covering them. The light above shines on us, warming our bodies. And just like that, more pieces of the puzzle fall back into my mind.

“Now that everything’s cleared up, what is your wish?”

“Frisk, you don’t have to do this, for real.”

“No, I have to. You’re stuck to me. You can’t exactly walk around and go back to the Underground. I’m going to help you. We’re gonna save them Chara.” – my voice fills my brain, alongside Chara’s and… his.

“Incubator. I wish for the power of salvation.”

“Can you specify that please?”

Yes, that’s it. I remember now. I get up, and see a small corridor, leading to a huge gateway entrance. Sparkles of light come out from it. There’s some kind of light source coming from it. We decide to move towards it.

As we reach it, we look inwards and find a single golden flower, similar to those earlier. We step into the wide area, and suddenly, the flower jumps to life.

“Howdy there! I’m Flowey – Flowey the Flower!” – it said happily. Chara warned me about how sudden Monsters could be, but I wasn’t expecting something like this.

“Say, you’re new around here, aren’t ya? You need someone to guide you through the Underground!” – it said happily.

“Well, actually--” – I tried to object, as I had Chara right next to me, but the flower just interrupted me.

“I guess little ol’ me will have to do it!” – it winked.

Suddenly, I felt a huge wave crushing my chest, as my surroundings lose its color. It becomes a mash-up of black and white. And just as it came, it left.

“Huh?” – the happy flower looked at me with very confused eyes – “Let’s try that again!” – he said cheerfully, as the feeling came back, pushing me downwards once more, but suddenly stopping. I wasn’t hurt, nor exhausted. It’s as if I just sneezed, for no apparent reason.

“Heh, hehe.. Okay…” – it continued, clearly starting to get annoyed – “Let’s try that one more time!” – I felt that energy again, but it no longer phased me. It’s now a very uninteresting movie for me.

“Hey, hey.. What’s going on, huh?!” – the tone of Flowey changed drastically. From a very friendly one to a tone filled with a thousand year anger – “You’re a Human, aren’t you? Where the hell is your Soul?!” – it hissed.

“Oh!” – I was taken by surprise, with such a direct approach, but I tried my best to befriend the friendly monster – “That’s right…” – I extend my hand, as the ring in my left middle finger glows and morphs into an egg shaped Gem, resting on my palm – “Here!”

There was a small pause. The flower starred in disbelief at my Soul Gem. It was a vibrant red, the same color as my eyes. Right at the top of it, was a heart symbol, and at the bottom, surrounded by a small circle, a four pointed star. The flower suddenly smirked, and was emitting an uneasy light cackle.

“Frisk, I don’t really trust this guy… he’s giving me really weird vibes….” – Chara spoke to me. Good thing only I can see and hear her, makes some of her comments easier to bear with. But still, now I’m worried. Chara lived quite some time with Monsters. For even her to be set back.. This “flower” must be something she has never seen.

Flowey’s laughter grew louder and louder, as vines erupt from the ground below him into the air, keen to claws of a starving wolf. He sprung his head upwards and looked straight into my eyes. His face was contorted. He no longer had his friendly smile, it was a monstrous look. His eyes void of life.

“WELL, THEN YOU’RE COMPLETELY USELESS TO ME, AREN’T YOU?! THIS WILL BE FAR TOO EASY FOR ME.” – a wall of bullets surround me in a perfect sphere – “D I E.”

I can see his vines lunging towards me, and the bullets dashing into me. I have my Soul Gem in my hand. Transforming takes only a second, I can protect myself from this. But I can’t. I froze in place, clinging to my own life, as the last bits of my life flash through my mind.

“I wish to have the power to save the Monsters. To save them from the Barrier and their thousand year prison. That’s what I want. The power of salvation.”

“I see. I don’t know why, but your Karmic Weight is quite heavy on you. Frisk, your wish will most certainly come true, but in order for it to come into fruition, you must go break the Barrier yourself.”

“That’s something I’m willing to do unconditionally. Nothing will stop me.”

‘Nothing’. Yet here I am, praying for someone to come help me. Please, anyone.

…

But… Someone did come.

As I waited for the impact of Flowey’s bullets and thorned vines, I suddenly hear a scorching sound and warmth, followed by Flowey’s screams. I open my eyes to find the unscrupulous flower burning in flames, and the bullets are now cinders slowly dancing and falling to the ground, as the flower retreats to whatever hellish hole it came from. From the other side of the room, a figure approaches.

She’s tall, and covered in white fur. She has small horns on her head and floppy ears at the side of her head. She’s wearing a dressing gown, purple with a crest on her chest – a circle with wings, and three triangles right under it. I can feel Chara’s intense gaze at her as she whispers – “Mom..”

“Oh, what a horrible creature torturing such a poor and innocent youth.” – she spoke to me, her voice calm, motherly, tender. Happy – “My name is Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. Come my darling, let me guide you through them.”

She quickly grabbed my hand. I can feel her warmth warming me up from the inside out. Her aura, her presence. I enjoy being next to her. I feel like wanting to be with her forever. I can see Chara crying. This must be a hard moment for her. We make haste for the next room, where I can see red rose petals scattered around the floor. I catch a glimpse of a yellow shine, but it quickly disappeared.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Hey there! Author here, you may call me Mahou! :)

This is the very first Chapter of MagiTale, a Crossover AU/Fanfic that puts the characters and events of Undertale into the World and Lore of the Madoka Magica series. This is also the very first time I temper with Tumblr, so do offer some tips pls :')

Anyways, this is only a "preview" Chapter, a Demo almost, as the full story is currently in progression. I intend to post the entire thing once it's completed, so please do look forward to it! I'll also keep updating this page with content, related (or not) to MagiTale.

Well, I'll be going now, really hope you enjoyed it! :D

Cya~✨

#Madoka Magica #Undertale #AU #Crossover #Fanfic #Puella Magi #Magia Record #Undertale AU #MagiTale

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sosthemortalcoil · 5 years

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Is there a list of all of the RO's and their descriptions?

There are several, but I’m compiling them here to help.

1. Sabriel (pansexual, she/her) is another angel of Guardian rank. She’s the Guardian Angel Overseer for the area where you will be living and is technically responsible for making sure you don’t do anything that would influence the state of the world unduly. She enjoys human culture (particularly Star Wars) and has a fondness for tea. She has a lot of walls up that prevent her from easily trusting anything from Heaven, especially figures in power. Having fun is often put on the back-burner when she’s overworked (which is a common state for her). She tries to put duty above all else, though she’s too compassionate to always succeed in this. Being honest with herself is something she values, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be straightforward or honest with others.

Her preferred form stands at 5′9″/175 cm. She has a mess of frizzy brown hair that constantly escapes into her oval face. Her grey-blue eyes are usually underscored by bags, and she wears rectangular, black-frame glasses. Her nose is thin with flared nostrils, her lips curve up naturally but are drawn down by the faint lines on her features. Roughly same age as Ramiel. Her body looks soft, without much definition, but she’s iron and steel at her core.

2. Alice Hudson (bisexual, she/her) is a human and one potential partner for Gabriel. She’s the only child of a powerful medium and is well aware of the supernatural world even though she herself has no gifts. She’s a believer of order though she also believes that there are exceptions and that you have to take things on a case by case basis. She loves to tease coworkers and is fond of practical jokes but perfectly capable of being serious. Commitment makes her skittish in personal relationships. She is also a little afraid of children. She’s a person who will bend the rules if need be–the end justifies the means in some cases. She likes tinkering with her motorcycle(s), rebuilding them when she finishes one.

She stands 5′11″/180 cm with brown shoulder length hair that is mostly straight and usually pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin is fair, touched by sun. Her most noticeable feature is her piercing, light grey eyes that see more than people think. At the start of the story she’s 26 years old. She has lips that border on the thin side, but are quick to smile. Her eyebrows are round, above straight eyes. Her nose is on the short side in overall length, with a deviation from where she once got it broken. The tip is round but drawn out from her face, her nostrils small. She has a runner’s body, muscles built for endurance and speed rather than raw strength. She keeps her nails short, and rarely wears any sort of make-up. She is a predominantly Caucasian mix.

3. Tadea Guerrero (lesbian, she/her) is a werepanther. By the time you meet her she’s the second-in-command of her pride. Prickly on the outside, she sees official authorities (the police) as something to be leery of at best. The pressures of the former leadership of her pack, which emphasized cruelty, leaves her bitter and mistrustful of others. Aggressive and fierce, she supports Leo’s new leadership style though thinks he is too naive to hold it on his own without her assistance. She favors practicality and is cutthroat in making decisions.

She respects strength and will exploit any weaknesses she can find in almost anyone to further her agenda or that of her pack--because she doesn’t believe in the innate goodness of most people, Leo being an exception. In a romantic relationship she can be shy due to inexperience with a proper relationship. She likes flowers, and pink, and things she feels are super girly and don’t fit with the rough-and-tough image she projects. Being with Gabriel would allow her to relax a little, exposing more of her soft side.

She stands at 5′8″/173 cm. Her skin is a rich brown. Short-cropped black hair is styled into a miniature mohawk most of the time, accenting her square jaw and chin. Her cheeks are the softest part of her, her body muscular and lean with little of what might be called feminine softness. Her straight brows sit over large darkbrown, almost black, eyes. Her nose is of medium length with a broad bridge and solid point, resting above chapped lips. Her eyelashes are startling long against her cheeks. She has barbed-wire tattoos on both of her arms, wrapped around roses on the left arm.

4. Karyn Brown (straightish, she/her) is a female werewolf, with some human bloodline, who’s adept at dodging pack responsibilities. She loyal to her pack but has a wild streak. She is of the opinion that life is too short to be serious and tends to be seen as vain and flighty. She is intelligent and a skilled hacker. She enjoys kickboxing and zumba, can’t cook for the life of her and is very spontaneous. She works as a barista at the local coffee shop, in addition to some of her computer-related odd-jobs. She enjoys dubsteb, flirting, and living life to the fullest.

She is 5′6:/168 cm, of Western European descent. Her hair is mid-back and wavy, golden blonde. She usually wears it in ponytail or loose, and often has a chunk died various colors. Her narrow amber eyes frame a button nose and lips almost perpetually curved in a smirk. Freckles span the bridge of her nose and fan out across her cheeks. She’s fit, but her body appears more soft than toned. Her face is heart-shaped, her hairline low on her brow. Two thin eyebrows curve slightly, following the shape of her eyes. Her cheeks are rosy and full. Her wolf form seems too small for its paws and has a russet coat.

5. Stephanie Xinxin Lee (straight, she/her) is a witch who works at the police department as a beat cop. She specializes in charms and trinkets not having much magical power at her disposal. She’s a little sensitive about her size and hates speaking to large groups of people. Generally mild mannered she enjoys strange tea blends and can talk for hours about the magical properties of herbs but is dismal at pop culture references. She likes learning new things, and has no qualms about taking down people twice her size. While she loves her family, she’s excited to be on her own, away from much of the expectations and pressures of her family.

She’s the shortest RO at 5′2″/157 cm and is ethnically Chinese. She has dark brown eyes that slant upwards slightly, underneath thin black brows. Her long, mid-back length black hair is usually kept pinned up in a tight bun. Her features are generally on the round side, small and delicate. Her lips are narrow, the bridge of her nose flat and the tip of her nose round. Her olive skin is clear apart from a beauty mark at the corner of her left eye. She might be described as petite.

6, Iro Nyx (aromantic, pansexual, she/her) is a succubus dating from Hellenistic Greece. She’s a RO option only for darker Gabriels (though you can have a fling with her as a lighter Gabriel, she just won’t be interested in a relationship of any kind). As a succubus she has mid-level shape-shifting abilities which she predominantly uses to change her physical appearance. Iro likes drinks and toying with humans, though she is not a fan of blood and gore. She tries to rely on her wiles and ability to wheel and deal to maintain a comfy lifestyle free of being controlled. Iro is comfortable with who she is; she doesn’t want to change. She does want more control and power over her life, and will join a Gabriel whom she believes can deliver these things.

Her appearance depends on the day and whatever form she feels likewearing. Her original form had curly light brown hair that she would pin up, exposing the nape of her elegant neck. She was fine-boned and small, with large hazel eyes set above pouty lips. Her nose was small with a pointed tip, her face round. She is roughly 2300 years old.

7. Iain O’Brien (straightish, he/him) is the other option for your partner on the police force. He’s from an Irish Catholic family though he finds himself unable to commit to the same level of faith as his stringent mother. He likes to play the white knight and is always willing to help when asked. He’s very good with his niece and nephew, adores kids, but tends to be clueless when it comes to picking up on hints in relationships. He says drinking is as necessary as water to an Irish-man (even though he wasn’t born in Ireland). He laughs a lot, even when its not appropriate and sometimes speaks before thinking. His work is his passion and sometimes he neglects to take care of himself subsequently. He wasn’t the perfect son, a contrast to his ‘perfect’ sister. He grew up practicing martial arts, and decided to become a cop after a chance encounter with an officer who also went to his dojo.

He stands at 6′4″/193 cm with pale skin that burns easily and freckles spanning his broad back. His red hair, showcasing his Irish blood, is kept on the short side, just barely curling around his ears. When it gets too long the entire mass becomes curly. His eyes are a vivid green, crinkled at the edges with laugh lines. He has a square chin but a softer edge to his jawline than he likes. At the start of the story he’s 25. He has a semi-prominent brow ridge, with thick eyebrows. He has a Roman nose, long and straight. His upper lip has a neat bow to it, and his lower lip is full. 100% human. He works on core and toning, and carries some extra weight around his hips from his penchant for alcohol. On occasion he gets some red fuzz and scruff on, but never lets it get to a full beard.

8. Aelius Roman (pansexual, he/him) works ‘with’ Iro. He’s the incubus to her succubus. Technically they have a competition to see who can gain the most contracts and acquire the most power but he tends to be less ruthless than Iro. He still remembers being mortal and often includes loopholes in his contracts that the clever can get out of–though sometimes these ‘loopholes’ require a greater sacrifice than the original contract. He has a morbid sense of humor and lacks a sense of what humans judge as common decency. He is also possessive of whatever he views as his and sees lying as the key to any good relationship. He enjoys causing verbal disagreements and breaking up ‘happy-couples.’ Most of the time he wears a smile but can become maudlin, which is when he acts the most callous. He prefers to be on the outside looking in; while Iro likes to feed directly, Aelius likes to skim along the top, feeding in proximity. Unlike most incubi or succubi, Aelius isn’t that interested in the act of sex. He enjoys physical intimacy, but small touches and being close are more important to him than intercourse.

His appearance depends on the day and his form, though he typicallyprefers heights ranging from 5′6/168 cm to 5′ 10″/178 cm. He’s Roman via Gaul. Nospoilers on his original look. He is an incubus demon, formerly human. He’s roughly 2100 years old.

9. Ramiel (pansexual, he/him) is a Fallen who has many regrets about his past. He is excellent at putting on masks and getting his job done but takes no pleasure in working for Hell. It’s a necessary evil to him. He’s leery of getting close to Gabriel given their past, not wishing to endanger them but unable to stay away either. He used to be a prankster with little grasp on responsibility, prone to rash decisions. Since his Fall he’s learned a lot about himself, having grown into someone who is more mature and aware of who he is. Much of his humor is buried underneath his regret, but it’s not impossible to see.

Ramiel’s walking form stands at 6′6″/198 cmand has dark brown hair, wavy and shoulder-length that he usually pulls back in a tie at the nape of his neck. He usually has five-o-clock shadow. His eyes are a warm honey-brown, but they look tired. His skin is tan and weathered, more suited to someone who works outside than the lawyer he masquerades at. If it weren’t for the expensive tailored suit, custom Italian leather shoes and briefcase, he could be mistaken for one of his clients being held overnight. He has a long straight nose, a thin upper lip and a full lower lip.

He rarely stands straight-backed anymore, his shoulders often curving with the weight of his failures. Still, he cuts a handsome figure, a quiet intensity to him and a warmth in his smile that draws people in, despite the slightly haggard look to him at times. The oldest of the nestmates by a bit.

10. Charleston Sawyer (formerly Valois) (gay, he/him) is another cop at the precinct and a werewolf. His orientation and refusal to continue the family bloodline led to him splitting with the pack he was born in. After a few years he was recruited by the alpha of the Jericho City pack as an Enforcer. He is relatively laid-back and easygoing at work, quicker with a smile. That extends only to his co-workers that he trusts. He quite astute and reads people well, but comes across as a pushover to most cops because of his more reserved nature. In the pack he becomes second because of his martial skills (he’s a Beta second while a second appointed for their ability to deal with emotions and politics is usually an Omega second). At home he tends to be withdrawn and cold, quicker to snarl than help--at least at first. The exception to his attitude at home is his alpha, Tom, and Tom’s daughter, Josie. He expects rejection and awkwardness from most of the pack, and it takes him time to open up and trust them.

He is 5′6″/168 cm and French. He has thick dark brown hair, swept back from his face. He has a neatly trimmed covering of hair one could call a beard, highlighting his rectangular jaw. He has mesmerizing hazel eyes situated beneath dark brows that are often drawn low. His skin is tanned, though whether from sun or natural coloring it’s impossible to tell. He’s 29 at the start of the story. He is pureblood werewolf, and his wolf form is a dark grey that borders on black. He’s stocky and solidly built, with the heaviest musculature of all the ROs, but remains flexible.

11. Tom Garrow (straight, he/him) is the leader of the local werewolf pack and recently widowed. Newly a single-father, he struggles between balancing his daughter and his pack. Well-traveled and educated, he tends to have lofty ideas that sometimes need a dose of practicality. He is not a fan of his wolf nature and tends to try to cover any of his ‘innate savagery’ with an excess of culture in his day-to-day life. He runs an upscale bar for his ‘day’ job and is a shrewd business man. He deliberately appointed Charleston in spite of the majority of the pack’s feelings--wondering if an Enforcer was really the best fit for second--informing them that he was selecting the best person for the job, feelings be damned.

He cares for Charleston as a close friend but often finds himself unable to help with his friend’s issues without making them worse. Respected for his leadership because he puts the safety of the pack first, he can struggle with relationships outside of the pack. He does want to create a more international and cooperative pack that has other supernatural allies but has yet to persuade the pack to his point of view, especially after the death of his wife where they want to close ranks. When in a relationship, he likes to indulge in more of his wolf nature, allowing for some of that freedom that he tries to keep out of his professional life.

Tom is 30 years old at the start of the story and stands at 6′5″/196 cm. Ethnically he’s of Western European descent, mixed. He was born a werewolf, but has human blood in his bloodline. His dark brown hairis of medium-short length just brushing his collar and swept away from his widow’s peak. It’s already starting to silver. His warm brown eyes, which take on a golden hue, are evenly spaced on his oval face, cut by a slightly hooked, Romanesque nose. He has strong bones, though his cheeks run a little towards gaunt. His face remains unlined. His skin is a warm peach. His wolf form is entirely silver, lean and long-legged. His shoulders are broad, but he leans towards slim elegance, a graceful dancer’s build with some definition.

12. Leo Soto (pansexual, he/him) is the werepanther Alpha. Young for an Alpha, he succeeded by killing the previous Alpha as is custom with werepanthers (or so it seems). He is attempting to change the way the pride behaves but meets resistance. A bit of an idealist he is often frustrated by what he calls outdated moralities but lacking little in the way of different life experiences tends to exert the authority of his position when challenged. He often appeals to higher powers for guidance, especially when trying to remain calm. He is eager to work with Gabriel, and is nervous and a little naive when it comes to relationships. He views forgiveness and compassion as priorities, despite little in his life showing him the advantages of those qualities.

He stands at 6′1″/185 cm. He is Hispanic, with sienna skin and broad cheekbones. His solid black hair is usually kept in a long,single braid running down his back. Deep golden-brown eyes are set beneath dark, prominent brows. He has a sharp jawline, softened by the remnants of his youth. His body is honed, ready for fight or flight, sinewy and graceful. His white teeth flash often in smiles from behind soft lips. He has a single tattoo, a pair of angel wings on the nape of his neck, usually concealed by his hair.

13. Ryder (Eljas) Alsvartrson (bisexual, he/him): Warlock, born Eljas but renamed himself Ryder as the centuries passed to blend better. He has a brother named Nate who is a perpetually high necromancer.

Warlocks are territorial due to the nature of their power (demonic bargains) so he is the sole warlock in the city. (Warlocks are a type of magic user, and the term is gender neutral.) He has a soft spot for his brother even though he’s usually found yelling at him. Hates werewolves. Likes to use hellfire to burn things.

He has an intense hatred of weakness and is of the opinion that if you can’t hold onto power then you never deserved it. He has no qualms about killing and isn’t particularly good at relationships. Vain, he likes to enforce stereotypes of what a warlock looks like (according to him) so he goes around dressed in a black leather duster, black boots, black cargo pants, a (you guessed it) black shirt.

He is flattered by people giving him power. He is attracted to power, regardless of gender. Ryder finds ruthlessness and manipulating others a turn on. He can actually be protective of the MC if the relationship is approached carefully, but generally he prefers to be part of a power couple. (The tag #evil bean is his.)

His natural height is 5′5″/165cm, but he wears boots with lifts whenever he’s in public, bumping up his height by two inches. He’s Norse, and has straight, knee-length,white-blonde hair that pours over his thin body. His pale, almost white eyes peer out from beneath almost invisible eyebrows, his thin and humorless lips rest below his hawk nose, the tip of which is just slightly upturned. He has high cheekbones, and a long face, a rectangular jaw line but soft chin. He appears to be about 23 years old. He runs skinny, almost unhealthily so, lanky and lean. Natural physical strength isn’t something he concerns himself with, and one can tell.

14. Zaria Wangari (pansexual, she/her) is half-human, on her father’s side. Her mother is a Sauti ya hila (a species unique to the SoS world). Because of her heritage, she is incapable of hearing normal human vocal ranges, so for most intents and purposes she is deaf. She works as the Medical Examiner for Jericho City Police Department.

Because of her deafness, she typically won’t initiate conversations with unknown people or in large groups as she gets nervous about how she sounds. She is fluent in ASL, and the rest of the precinct has various levels of fluency in it as well.

She tends to respond logically to situations first, always being careful to consider things before speaking. She dislikes being rushed or pressed for quick decisions, and isn’t shy about letting you know so. Questioning her knowledge is a good way to offend her. She’s reserved until she knows you, and then is prone to slipping in teasing remarks when visited in her home domain (that being her office and lab). Outside of work, she enjoys spending time outside with Rolo, her Komondor (aka large mop dog). She is a wine aficionado.

Looking sharp and well-presented is important to her, and she is meticulous about the aesthetic feel of her office and home. Going to crime scenes can stress her out because of the potential for crowds and unexpected people; she likes being in control, and places with a lot of people tend to put her on the defensive and she shuts down. Going out in groups with friends that she knows is usually the way she counters for the lack of control in new environments, but in general she prefers to be a creature of habit.

Her natural eye-color is violet, so she wearsamber-contacts most of the time. Zaria’s hair is a wavy cascade of mahogany that she usually wears pulled back in a bun. Her natural eye-color is violet, so she wears amber-colored contacts. She often wears high-heeled boots that bump her height up to 6’ 2"/188cm (she’s actually 6’0"/183cm). She is 29 years old at the start of the story, but is often mistaken for being a decade younger. Luckily her height stops most people from attempting to card her or question if she’s truly old enough to have obtained her Doctorate in Forensic Pathology. She has prominent, high cheekbones and full lips. Her nose is broad, and her eyebrows arched. She has long legs and long, elegant fingers. She’s lean, but has broad shoulders, and knows how to flatter her assets.

15. Michael (pansexual, he/him) is an archangel and nestmate of Gabriel. Young Michael was eager to please and desperate to belong. Older Michael has become jaded and is a source of nearly constant conflict. His version of being overprotective comes across as controlling and stifling. Somewhere along the way something changed him, and the new Michael is often angry and upset, no real cause required.

In angel form, Michael stands at 6′2″/188 cm. Michael wears his long blond hair in a neat, single braid down his back. It falls to midback.There’s nothing in particular that stands out about his looks–standard black eyes, golden skin, large gold wings, lean and muscular build. His nose is on the small size, some might say more button-nose than not, his lips are thin, and his chin has a stubborn jut to it. In human form, Michael’s form is 5′10″/178 cm. His hair is cropped short and blonde, about an inch-and-a-half in length. He has wide whiskey brown eyes. He has a stubborn chin, a short face, and a button-nose. His shoulders are narrow and his frame lean. His lips are thin and usually turned down to mirror the slant of his thick, light blonde eyebrows. His skin is an almost unhealthy shade of white. Slightly older than Gabriel.

#master post #ROs #character descriptions #All the ROs #all the romances #Alice #Iain #Stephanie #Zaria #Charleston #Tadea #Leo #Tom #Karyn #Iro #Aelius #Ryder #Sabriel #Ramiel #Michael

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