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yxami · 1 year

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Cupid yandere idea muahahahah and yes I did name him Eros because I could not let that perfect chance get away

Description: Cupid yandere, obsessive/possessive controlling themes in the yandere, gen neutral reader, just an introduction basically but I’m like so excited to write about him he’s so cute am I really fangirling over my own oc LMAOO

You walked in the empty park that was located near the restaurant you had just left. Another failed date… great. This was probably the 6th date you’ve been on that has gone nowhere. It can’t be you that’s wrong, right? You were normal and used polite manners and even got comfortable with your dates but not a single one contacted you afterwards.

You sat down on the wooden bench and rubbed your hands trying to get warmer. It was freezing for a sunny day, but now it’s cold and cloudy. The weather coincidentally matched your mood, gloomy and sad. You kept wondering what could’ve made the potential suitors run off without a text.

Were you cursed? Was something stopping you from being in love? Maybe some evil force that hated you.

“If there’s a god out there that’s controlling my love life!” You loudly said as if that god could hear your frustrated words.

“I fucking hate you!” You yelled higher in volume.

Of course, nobody answered your words laced with annoyance and loneliness. Nobody was nearby to hear them either so luckily you didn’t look like a total weirdo. You sighed taking your phone out of your back pocket and began scrolling through it. Blissfully unaware of the godly presence in front of you.

“Do they actually hate me?” Eros whimpered quietly, fiddling with his fingers while he stared you down. His wings drooped down, matching his sad mood from his human saying they hate him. His halo even dimmed, which was rare for a Cupid!

“Those people just didn’t seem right for you! All of them were weirdos and didn’t deserve your love!” He sighed looking straight at you, wondering if he should break rules and reveal himself. He knew you couldn’t hear his words but he still expressed them.

“I’ll find you someone soon enough, just be patient my love” He sat next to the empty spot that you left open. It was almost like you knew he was there and gave him that spot. Or he was just being delusional again

“Maybe if I just continue trying it’ll work, maybe they just found someone else. Yeah, thats probably why!” You murmured to yourself trying to save your faltering ego from the failed dates. You tried convincing yourself it was just a sign they weren’t the one and that’s why.

“Noo! Just stop going on that stupid app, just wait for me to bring you the right person!” He let out a groan, very disappointed in his human for being so stupidly insistent on something that would not work in the end. How many times would he have to shove suitors away from you?

Maybe he should delete the app off your phone while you slept tonight, or get you banned somehow so you could never create an account on the app ever.

“Maybe Cupid hates me, am I gonna have to chase his fucking arrows or something?” Your phone clicked shut and you slid it in your back pocket.

“I love you! I don’t hate you! I’ll shoot you with one of my arrows when I know they’re the one for you. His hands waved in a panic that you even suggested that he hates you. He loves you with all his heart and more! It was likely that he was the only cupid with such a strong obsession with their human.

All cupids had their designated human to guide throughout life, dealing with their love life and general pursuits of happiness. Cupids would begin interfering with their humans when they became the ripe age for love and then cared for them until they passed.

You were at that age where you wanted to find someone or something to distract you from your busy work life and it was stressing your Cupid out more than you!

You looked out seeing how the sun was setting and decided to start walking home. You didn’t want to be out so late, you had to go and eat dinner since that date of yours hardly lasted to even eat food.

You weren’t going to get over the fact you had so many failed attempts, it bruised your ego so bad.

Eros could see your hurt face and his heart ached to give you some relief, but how would he? He didn’t want you to get a partner! He wanted to be selfish and guide you to be his mate. His designated lover that stays with him forever. Wouldn’t you love that?

Once you got home you kicked your shoes off and groggily walked towards your kitchen. You rummaged through cabinets to try and find something to eat.

He was biting his lip, trying to gather his thoughts about whether to show himself or not. Would you allow him to talk? Or would you call the police and say that a guy with wings and a halo was in your kitchen telling you he was your Cupid. Eros decided he would do it! Who cares? He would just explain the whole thing.

You heard a soft sound of wings fluttering and a gust of wind hit you. You shivered thinking a window was open and quickly turned around to go shut it. Instead of seeing that open window, you saw a breath-taking man stand in the middle of your kitchen.

His wings flapped nervously under your stare and he instinctively fiddled with his fingers trying to muster up the courage to speak in-front of the human that he’s always obessed over. He couldn’t speak, his throat caught all the words he thought of saying.

You observed the tall man that nervously stood, saying nothing. He was very attractive and his brown hair was neatly groomed. There was a golden yellow halo that rested in the air above his head.

He had hazel eyes that were fixated on you. They looked entranced by you but that didn’t distract you from what was connected to his back. He had large white feathery wings that were soft and bright. His wings hinted that they would flicker when he was nervous.

“What the hell” You shortly said after a long silence.

“H-hello! My name is Eros, I’m your designated Cupid.” He stopped fiddling with his fingers and inhaled to try and receive confidence to speak with this silly little human that he was infatuated with.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You finally came to your senses and started to scramble away and threw anything that was on the counter which was a glass mug that he dodged. Glass was shattered as he caught it and put it on your kitchen table.

“Hey! Hey! Calm down human” He put both of his hands up noticing how scared you were. You looked like a poor frightened feral cat!

“Get out!!!” You threw more little things at him and he quickly noticed you were not calmed by his words. Despite your greatest efforts he caught up to you and grabbed the thing that was next in line to hit him.

“Calm down my little human, let me explain everything” Eros managed to pin you against your kitchen wall and you squirmed under his strong grasp. After getting the obvious fact that he was stronger, you stopped fighting back.

“Alright” You blew your hair out of your face and sighed finally deciding to listen to his words.

“I am your Cupid! Every human gets their own Cupid that decides things for their humans well-being. My name is Eros and I’ve noticed you’ve been a little frustrated about your love life so I came to help you personally!” His wings folded and rested on his back while he kept his now less tight grip against your wrists that were still pinned against the cabinet.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and hot under his close proximity. The both of you were sat on the floor after he confined you with his body. He was almost pressed against you and your face was completely red.

You nodded along his words trying to compose yourself, which was hard against a beauty that was so close to you. You honestly hated the fact his face made your stomach feel strange. Your stomach walls clenched around nothing and it felt empty.

“So! Are you good now, my love?” He brought his hand up to your face and twirled a strand of your hair. He loved how soft it felt, he wondered if you’d let him continue.

“Yeah…” You murmured, still embarrassed that he was so close.

“Good! Let’s start talking about everything!” Eros excitedly stopped pinning you and helped you up rather easily as if you were a plush doll with no weight. His wings flicked in happiness that you were now cooperating.

The two of you went to your living room and he was eager to start talking about your love life. He was sat close and acted as if you were his lover! You could feel his wings wrap around you as they brought you closer to him.

“Is this what you do with all your clients?” You tried laughing your nervousness off. You were sat in-front of him and both of you sat with your legs crossed, facing each other.

“You’re my only client right now! And no, with the other ones I’ve had, I don’t treat them the way I do with you!” He grinned. “It’s a good thing though! You’re special to me!”

“So.. are you the reason all my dates have failed? I’ve been really frustrated about it and I didn’t realize someone was behind it” You looked up at Eros instead of looking at your hands.

“Yeah! And I’m sorry about it, I know it might seem mean but it’s because I believed it was in your best interest that you didn’t continue your interactions with them. All your date’s cupids also agreed!” Eros was lying straight through his teeth. He knew none of the Cupids that he interacted with agreed, but he still managed to convince them that there was another person for their clients.

He wanted you to himself! Why couldn’t a Cupid have a human lover of their own? He knew it wasn’t ideal for a Cupid to be with a client of theirs but who cares? Love is love and if a Cupid wanted to be with a human then it should be allowed!

You noticed a certain glint in your Cupids eyes, he looked lost in thought about something. He likely didn’t hear what you said. You tapped his knee trying to get his attention and his pretty white wings puffed up in a flustered manner.

“Sorry! I was lost in thought. What did you say?” He was now attentively looking at you. His hazel eyes wouldn’t leave your eyes for a moment with his mind refocused on you.

“It’s okay, i was just asking if you could tell me about my future love life? Or is that against like Cupid rules or something?” You were curious about the Cupid who could basically do anything to your future.

“Hmm, I think.. I should leave it as a surprise. I don’t want to spoil the present for you!” Eros couldn’t help but giggle happily.

“Okay, if you think it’s a good thing then I don’t mind not knowing” You smiled.

“Trust me! It’s the best surprise you could ever even dream about” He got giddy thinking about it. Obviously, you were not aware of the prize. But the prize was him! Your Cupid was going to be your lover forever and ever!

“Thanks for taking care of my love life and stuff, I know it’s like your job but I appreciate it” You tried to not mumble your words together but it was a little embarrassing to thank a stranger who’s been in control of your life since likely birth.

“No problem! I love you so much! I’ll always take care of you and your well-being” Eros leaned towards you and hugged you. You felt his body fit yours like a very intricate puzzle that was solved. His wings embraced you, wrapped around your back. You felt his soft wings against the thin fabric you wore and his body shared its warmth in the hug he gave with yours.

A very tight warm hug. A hug that likely sealed your fate of being stuck in an endless loop with this Cupid that would likely never go away! Eros was so happy you had accepted it! Now you’d be mates, and love each other for all of eternity.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #gn reader #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #gender neutral reader #gender neutral terms #cupid #obsession #manipulation #possessiveness #cupid oc #yandere cupid #soft yandere #erosmyoc

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muzzleroars · 3 months

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What? This is what I thought when he has V1's parents' same reaction.

lucifer sees v1 as a work of art that has become an artist in itself - being once of god, unlike any other angel, lucifer has massive amounts of creativity and appreciation for what humanity achieved through their own god-given spark. but beyond that, for v1 in particular, he sees something that has moved past its makers, it has forged its own path in defiance of what it was made for. he is fascinated by its mind, its construction, its life as something that may or may not have a soul (for what constitutes a soul, even lucifer does not know). but importantly it is a life not made by god, it is removed from him, and he wants to meet what god did not create. he wants to see what a full, vibrant experience it has, and v1 sure does. not disappoint lol so animalistic in behavior but with a razor-sharp mind, its first action is probably to challenge him to a one-on-one fight - not a surprise, given how much he knows through hell itself, but he worries he won't be an impressive match for it. he had been inert for so long and really...lucifer was never a warrior, his strength bolstered purely by his closeness to god. still, like anyone that can face v1 and live to tell about it, he finds the fight inspired, unpredictable, and a beautiful insight into a mind he cannot understand despite his godly knowledge. he is not moved by battle, but he can feel how v1 is, its emotions showing through and resonating within lucifer so that he gains insight into its passion. v1 finds its fascination in turn, recognizing right away that lucifer is not a fighter yet there is a disjointed fluidity in his movement, his choices largely defensive and illusory - he wouldn't be v1's first choice as an opponent, though his skillset is unique enough that it doesn't get bored. they stand as two perfect creations, the pinnacle of what god and man could create, and they find interest in the other purely for how alien they are. lucifer made for love and creation, v1 for apathy and destruction, curious of the other as they have been steeped in the role of their opposite.

gabriel doesn't ever really say anything to lucifer about his relationship with v1, mostly figuring it wouldn't be of any relevance to him as he seems preoccupied with attending to his fallen angels. but also...gabriel's aware that lucifer knows most of what's happened in hell and so his partnership with v1 likely isn't a secret to him. unsurprisingly, lucifer doesn't broach the topic for some time, his talks with gabriel a bit sparing and distant with his mind so attuned now to a self-centered focus in his isolation (GENUINELY does not remember how to talk to other people). gabriel actually begins to think he might not even have an opinion on their relationship, but he finds out that's quite far from the truth once lucifer is able to acknowledge more outside of himself. it's just...not what gabriel expected, if he expected anything at all. lucifer, already coming in with an appreciation of the bizarre, is actually happy for what v1 and gabriel have together. their relationship entirely defies the "natural" order of things, an act that would have been condemned fully by god and denied even as possible by v1's makers. he is glad too to see that love led gabriel to something better, it allowed him to finally follow what his heart had been telling him for all this time. it is a very rare thing to find such a kindred spirit and then to defy everything you were told you are in pursuit of that....and lucifer can find nothing more noble in the world than that. so while he continues to harbor his own issues with gabriel, he believes v1 has improved him by bounds and that he is now far more "palatable" than his siblings. gabriel has no idea how to take this, but v1 labels it an "endorsement" of its "personality"

#gabriel tells it that might not be the best thing. coming from satan #gabriel supposes he should have guessed lucifer's approval though #he has been made THOROUGHLY contrary to all things #and so of course something everyone else finds bizarre gets the thumbs up #cake answers #lucifer #v1 #gabriel #rise and fall au

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classicslesbianopinions · 8 months

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Ancient Woman Thunderdome 2023

FINAL ROUND (Round 6): Atalanta vs. Medea!

The rules: Vote based on who would win in a fight, NOT who you like more. Consider factors such as physical prowess, intelligence or cunning, and magical ability.

If the character has multiple non-godly forms, consider the one you believe to be more powerful. If the character is a goddess for a portion of their life, please only consider their mortal or non-godly form.

The fighters:

Fighter: Atalanta Source(s): Apollodorus's Library, Ovid's Metamorphoses, various other mythological sources Bio: Atalanta was a huntress associated with Artemis. She was a virgin who lived in the wilderness, and at one point killed two centaurs who tried to rape her. She may or may not have sailed and fought with the Argonauts, and defeated Peleus in a wrestling match at Pelias's funeral games. When Artemis sent a boar to Calydon to punish the king for not sacrificing to her, Atalanta joined the hunt and drew first blood. Later, her father found her and tried to get her to marry. Atalanta, knowing she was faster than just about anyone, said she would marry anyone who could beat her in a footrace, but if the suitor lost, he would be killed. Many men were killed, until Hippomenes prayed to Aphrodite and received three golden apples, which he threw to the side during the race to distract her. She did marry him, and, after she bore his child, they were both turned into lions in retaliation for having sex in a sacred area.

Fighter: Medea Source(s): Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica, Euripides' Medea, various other mythological sources Bio: Medea was a sorceress from Colchis, where the golden fleece was housed. When Jason arrived in pursuit of the fleece, Hera wanted to help him, so she got Aphrodite to make Medea fall in love with him because she knew Medea had skills that would be useful. Medea did help, in exchange for Jason's hand in marriage: she used her magic and knowledge to protect him through the tasks the king had him complete to get the golden fleece, and then when it turned out the king didn't plan to give Jason the fleece, Medea put the dragon guarding the fleece to sleep while Jason stole it. She then joined Jason and the Argonauts in flight. When the Argo was caught by Medea's half-brother, Apsyrtus, Medea tricked him into a trap so Jason could kill him. When they returned from their voyage, Jason was meant to trade the golden fleece for the king Pelias's throne, but he wouldn't give up the throne; Medea then tricked his daughters into killing him by telling them that if they cut him into pieces, she could bring him back to life. From there, she and Jason fled to Corinth, where they lived for some time before Jason decided he wanted to marry another woman, Glauce, the daughter of the king (Creon). Creon exiled her, and so Medea went to Athens and got Aegeus, the king there, to let her stay. She then called Jason to her, apologized for her reaction to his desire to marry someone else, and asked if her children could give Glauce gifts as an apology. The gifts, a robe and crown, were poisoned, and killed not only Glauce but also Creon when he tried to save her. She then killed both her children in an attempt to hurt Jason.

#mod felix #ancient woman thunderdome 2023 #who would win #round 6

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rrasado · 5 months

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⸢ FURINA'S HAIR: SYMBOLISM ⸥

OTHER NOTES ➽ My personal interpretation of our beloved archon's design, specifically the way she styled her hair in all forms.

SPOILERS ➽ SPOILERS FOR 4.2 ARCHON QUEST, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

Focalors, who had pure straight hair. Seamlessly luscious befitting that of the divine.

Focalors, who separated her humanity and divinity, one day seeking that human half for a greater goal.

Focalors, who approached a short-haired Furina that possessed the same raw curiosity for living as Focalors did when she first left her watery form. So young yet so full of life.

Furina, accepting a role at the cost of herself, donning a polished attire that still resembled her human apparel.

Furina, who faced the eager audience that was Fontaine with the same long curls as Focalors, which was unlikely to have grown naturally in such a rushed length of time.

Furina, who paraded a unique haircut, yet you can see where the end of her short hair is, and where the temporary locks start.

Furina, who had shown us in her mental stage the rigorous pursuit of a solution for the prophecy; working with both her true human self and the godly persona she played.

Furina, who, unlike Focalor’s hair, had a distinct cut that’d separate the short thrill of humanity and the long lamentation of an archon.

Furina, who unlike Focalors', was always a figurehead even in design, one who didn’t have the same true divinity as Focalors.

Focalors, who, unlike Furina, didn’t have the pleasure of experiencing the glory of a god to her people nor the amusing titillation of a human.

Focalors, who will forever outgrow her hair until it’s long enough for even the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale to chop it, thus ending her divine run.

Furina, who, unlike Focalors', was able to live out her humanity even when the long tresses of divinity were cut from her hair. Only appearing when assuming a fleeting role as Fontaine’s archon.

Furina, who may now grow her hair at her own pace, not as an artificial divinity, but as a human who yearned for spectacle.

Focalors, who designed her human self in a way that’d allow for Furina to grow, because that’s the one thing she knew she couldn’t fulfill herself, as evidenced by the lengthy tresses that flow behind her before her demise.

Focalors, whose hair is unnaturally split into two, might've been the forewarning of her two halves.

Focalors, and her humanity, are differentiated by the consequences of cutting their hair, of cutting their divinity.

Tag list :: @cxsinesis @luvielle

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xylon8 · 7 months

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A Sinful Symphony

[Dom!Kafka x Sub!Fem!reader]

[Nsfw warning!] Soft violin music sways you with ease as it plays in the background. Kafka is dancing with you, twirling you around and pulling you close and slowly dancing to the soft melody of the orchestra. Moments like this are treasured as sometimes she has no time to be around since she has to follow Elio’s orders in order to find what she pursuits, fear. One day, she was finally off duty and came back to your home seemingly tired as she wrapped her arms around you, flopping herself down on the couch with you. You didn't complain but it saddened you to see Kafka this tired. “How was work, kafu?” you mutter softly. Kafka looked at you with a soft, and loving gaze, as if she was no longer tired. “mm.. It was so boring.. and lonely because i don't get to be with you..” she sighs, placing her face deep against your chest, you chuckle, running your fingers through her velvety locks. “It's a shame, I know. How about we make up for that lost time?” you smirk, earning a playful glint from Kafka. “fufu.. Who knew you would become so dirty, Y/n.. well.. Not that i'm complaining anyway..” you both kissed, letting your tongues intertwine with each other, kafka dominating you fairly easily. You let her touch envelop your body, her bite marks covering your upper body perfectly, clothes non existent to the both of you as you both took them off. To her, you were a sight to behold, better than the stars that flood every single planet she has been in. no matter if she has seen your godly figure multiple of times, it makes her want to ravish you in a snap of a finger. Her mouth stumbles upon your hardened nipple, as she suckles it with her mouth and twisted at the other, making you shiver and moan in pleasure. She mumbles praises and soft hums under her breath, not leaving a single part of your body untouched as if she's worshiping your body inch by inch… “oh baby.. You're just so beautiful for mommy.. Mmn.. you make it too hard for me to ever say no..” she detached her mouth from your breast, licking the hardened bud of flesh teasingly and looking at you, as if she's staring at the most prized and expensive artifact. It only made your heart yearn for more. Kisses make its way home down to your chest, and stomach, leaving smears of her favorite lipstick being shown on your body like a canvas, reapplying the lipstick and kissing your body even more until there's no gaps visible on you. Bites and kisses marking your inner thighs with ease until she finally reached your aching core. She ate you out without any warning, causing you to let out a breathy and shaky moan. Your hand instinctively went to her head, gripping at her hair as you pushed her deeper, a moan leaving out of her causing a small vibration that made you jolt in more pleasure.. Her mouth sucking at your clit and penetrating your needy hole with her two fingers leaving you a moaning mess. you are squeezing her head with your thighs tenderly. As much as she wants her head to be squeezed by you, she wants to focus on you first and opens your legs wide, earning more access in giving you as much pleasure as you could possibly want. You tried to hold on to the best of your ability, wanting to be a good girl for kafka so badly, but your release just seemed to be achingly close… "M-mommy… c-cumming.. Please.. i -i need.. T-to.. aah..” you whimpered as you dug your nails deep into Kafka’s scalp, earning a moan from her again. tug as much as you want, she will only go faster.. “Mnh.. let it all go baby.. You've been such a good girl..” you pant and tremble, letting out one final moan escape from your mouth, your juices being happily swallowed by your girlfriend. She lets out a soft and sultry hum at the taste of your sweet release, licking her lips and licking the rest of your juices from her fingers. “Mn.. you taste so wonderful as always.. care to be mommy's little fuck toy until the only thing you can call me is yours?” She laughs softly and props herself again in between your thighs. She is not stopping anytime soon until she is done worshiping you thoroughly…

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #wlw ns/fw #kafka #hsr kafka #kafka honkai star rail #kafu #kafka hsr #star rail #stellaron hunters #[🎱 ball archives]

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wixed · 3 months

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Summary: Chyla's entire world came crashing down around her when she finally saw Gale again after six months of being left high and dry while he pursued the Crown of Karsus. At Withers' reunion party Chyla was forced to confront her heartache and feelings on the matter. CW: Substance abuse if you squint, language Tags: God!Gale, Exes with Gale, Slow burn hurt comfort with other companions.

Chapter 1 - Chyla

“Oft… Hello, I’m Gale of Waterdeep!”

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…but it is a pleasant image to be sure!”

“One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, and prise the fear from my heart.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Memories of him cut through her like a knife, slashing away at her remaining strength. The echoes of Gale ringing like a voice bouncing through an empty chamber, his words hollowing out her heart.

Chyla brought the near empty bottle of wine to her lips and downed the last drops. Her other companions still laughing in the distance, enjoying each other’s company as she drowns her sorrows. She snuck off to a lonely patch, not wanting to bring down the festive spirits. She thought back to earlier in the night and the conversation she shared with Gale that led to such wallowing.

~~~***~~~***~~~

Months. It had been months since Chyla last saw him. Months since she was left alone in favor of a crown. Months since she thought he had died in his pursuit. Months since she last heard the name “Gale Dekarios”. Yet despite the time that lapsed, none of it could have prepared her for the visage of the Gale before her tonight.

His skin glimmered like freshly polished metal, adorned with the flecks of electricity that seemed to run through his veins, his eyes glowing, almost hollow.

The sight of him descending down from the literal heavens stopped her cold. Chyla had been in the middle of speaking to Minsc about a jail cell and portals, mid chuckle when the breath caught in her throat.

“My friend, Are you-” Minsc had tried to question her sudden silence as he looked in the direction of her focus. “AH! The Wizard has finally shown! …Though you are correct Boo, something seems…different with our bookish friend. Perhaps a new haircut?”

Chyla left Minsc to his own ponderings as she quietly took a few steps in Gale’s direction. Her hands trembled, her vision started to blur at the edges, the noise of the party seemed to be so distant, like she was under water barely able to perceive any of it at all. Suddenly she was being pulled from the ocean of her own thoughts as a hand spiritedly clapped down on her shoulder.

“Whoa, Soldier! Would you look at that! Gale became an actual God! Why didn’t you tell me?” Karlach laughed and she gawked at the new godly Gale across the camp. The laugh quickly quieted as she looked at Chyla’s still shell-shocked face. “...Shit.”

“I… I didn’t…” was all Chyla could muster in response to Karlach’s question. Karlach rubbed the paralyzed elf’s back gently as she looked up to see if anyone else was watching the major faux pax she was sure she just committed. Astarion looked up from the table he was seated at to quirk an eyebrow at them, to which Karlach shrugged with a grimace that wordlessly spoke ‘Help me.’

Astarion turned his head to look in the direction of all the supposed fuss. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as they found Gale’s visage. Then it all started to click. Chyla and Gale were an item while their merry little band of misfits was still together. He didn’t know what became of the two, but found it odd she had come to the party by herself, he didn’t think to question it immediately, but now it made an unfortunate amount of sense.

Before he could move Chyla continued on her path to Gale, as Karlach watched with nervous guilt.

Once Gale saw her approaching an uncanny inhuman smile planted itself on his face. “Goodness, was Faerûn always so dull?” his voice had a reverberation to it that matched his hollow glowing eyes. “Still at least the company was worth the trip, if not the view…” He muses to himself as Chyla closes the gap between them. “I hoped I’d see you here.”

She stood before him with bones like jelly and a stomach that threatened to revisit the dinner she just ate. “I thought you were dead. I haven’t heard from you in months…” despite her nerves the words leave her lips with an icy layer.

Gale simply gives a small smile. Chyla could feel the anger coiling in her already. “I’m afraid time works quite differently in Elysium. I didn’t realize how long I’d been gone, until I received Withers’ summons.”

The red hot ire coiled tighter in the pit of her stomach, the weightlessness turning to lead, her anger becoming a master of alchemy. “Before that then, before you ascended. Why didn’t you return my letters? A sending spell? Anything?” her voice broke with the last word. Anything. For so long she wanted anything from Gale. Any sign he still cared, any sign she still mattered, any indication that he still loved her the way she did him. But nothing ever came. Nothing was all she received to comfort all the fears and heartache, nothing to hold onto. Nothing.

Gale’s smile faded through her line of questioning. He wore a neutral expression and seemed to consider his next words carefully. “My journey and eventual success reforging the crown was of the utmost importance. I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted, lest I falter and lose the opportunities before me.” The words squeezed around her already hurting heart, suffocating all feeling.

Chyla took a moment to glance around the party. She quickly gathered that all eyes were on her and Gale. Some of the companions were trying to be more subtle than others, but the effect of feeling on display was there all the same. She turned her attention back to Gale, her pained voice low and quiet.

“That’s all I was? A distraction? You couldn’t bother to even assuage the fear that you had perished?” Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. “That’s not the Gale I fell in love with. The Gale that shared the weave with me, the man I swore to love.”

The divine being before her that claimed to be Gale reached a hand out, attempting to tenderly hold her own. She pulled her hand away while averting her glossy eyes. He frowned at the recoil. “Whatever you’re feeling, do not let it cloud your judgment. It’s still me, just an…improved version.”

She finally met his stare, finding no warmth, if there was love to be had it was lost to her, she could not find it. Her eyes narrowed. He continued, “Just because you would have been a distraction to my ambitions does not mean that is all you were. You were so much more to me, you are so much more to me. I had hoped you’d understand.”

She glared up at him, “Then help me understand, because I am struggling to do so on my own.”

As Gale ardently jumped at the opportunity to talk about himself, Chyla tried to even her breathing, steady her heart, try to hear him out no matter how much it hurt to stand in front of him as he was. He regaled her with his journey to find the crown, boasting about his ability to find the right incantations, his skill in taking control of the Karsite weave and using the crown to claim divinity and ascend.

“As expected, Mystra was unwilling to hand over the reins of the Weave, so I’ve claimed dominion over another area with which I’ve passing familiarity: ambition.” He proudly smiled as he spoke, as if the reveal of his domain was enough to impress and be forgiven.

Chyla gave a half scoff, “And what does the God of ambition offer his followers?” Gale frowned but continued.

“I exist not to bestow favors on my followers, but to inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves, exactly as I did. I am their proof. Proof their hopes are not barren wastes, but the loamy soil in which their future achievements will flourish. Proof that with ambition, anything is possible.”

The audience they both had gathered wasn’t lost on her and became apparent when Chyla swore she heard Astarion make an aside to Shadowheart “Anything except contact his paramour apparently.” She then heard him guffaw, no doubt because of an elbow meeting his ribs. She refocused her attention on Gale.

“So you’re no different than any other god.” her words bore fangs as she spat them out. The venom was either lost on Gale or he simply didn’t care.

“I’m simply more honest about my involvement. Not to say I don’t help more actively when the cause arises. A whisper in the ear of a struggling artisan. A breeze to flutter the pages of a tome before a frustrated mage. A magical weapon stumbled upon by a would-be hero.” His words stabbed into her like a dagger finding home. He had already amassed followers, already performing godly duties. In her silence he took the opportunity to continue.

“I am ambition incarnate. As indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as Mystra herself is from the Weave. And word is spreading. There are already several shrines in my honor scattered across the outer reaches of Thay, and rumors of a very prominent temple under construction in Amn.” A light cheerful tone strung itself through his words. It was the same tone that strung itself around Chyla’s neck, a noose choking the air from her lungs.

“You… You had enough time to check on your followers?”

“What kind of god would I be if I didn’t. The timing of such things is of a delicate nature. The creation of my domain required immediate attention, it perhaps is difficult for a mortal to compr-” He was cut off by a slap to his cheek.

“You had enough time to admire your temples, to inspire your followers, but you couldn’t hear my pleas? You couldn’t spare one moment to tell me what you planned to do, what you had done? Six months mourning you and wondering if I'll ever see you again. Six months asking myself what I did wrong to have you abandon me. Six months deluding myself into thinking the man I loved would come back for me. Fuck you, Gale. Fuck you and fuck all of….this.” She gestured at him and then up to the heavens.

He stood poised and stoic despite the slap. When she was done he took a deep breath and let out a disappointed sigh. “I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I’m not good enough for you?”

Chyla couldn’t stop the angry sobs from leaving her as she clutched her chest, her heart breaking a million times over. “How dare you! How dare you stand there in your godly attire and claim I was the one who thought you weren’t enough. You were everything to me Gale. You were always enough and more. You were the one who only ever thought you weren’t enough.” Her tears rolled down her cheeks, there was no stopping them now. He tried to say something but she cut him off before he got the chance.

“How can you truly believe any of that, when it was me who was never enough for you. Why else would you have left me for the crown? Why else would you have chased godhood instead of a future with me? It’s so clear to me now that my role in this relationship was just to appease all your self doubts. A balm for your bruised ego, a convenient salve for all your lingering insecurities. Once you found a way to cure those on your own, what use have you of me?” She sobbed out the last words hardly able to stay standing, her knees threatening to give under her.

Gale’s eyes narrowed and he looked away from her, as if disgusted by the sight before him. “I came here to offer you the heavens, but I see now such an offer would be wasted. I suppose it was foolish to expect a mortal to understand."

Chyla succumbed to the weight of heartbreak and fell to her knees, supporting herself with one hand on the ground, the other clutching at her heart. Almost in a whisper through sobs she cried “What happened to the man I once loved…”

“He’s the god he deserves to be… I believed in you for so much of our journey. It’s a pity you won’t do me the same courtesy.”

Chyla couldn’t bring herself to answer him. She’s done with pleading for compassion from a god that cares only for ambition. Perhaps if she was stronger she’d have a clever retort. Perhaps if she had done actual healing during those six months instead of wishful denial and dreaming she’d be able to laugh this off for the absurdity it was. But she found no humor in this heartache, she hadn’t let herself move on during those six months and now she was paying a bigger price for it.

Gale dejectedly sighed and moved away from her. She heard a female voice through the haze of her hurt.

“Mr. Dekarios, you are being absolutely vile!” Chyla looked up and saw Gale’s dear Tressyum, Tara. Chyla had only met her a handful of times, but the sight of Tara and the sound of her voice somehow grounded Chyla enough to where she was able to pick herself up off the ground.

Without a word she turned her back on Gale, went to the table still decorated with various food and drink, grabbed a bottle of wine and walked away to a quiet secluded spot by the river.

~~~***~~~***~~~

Chyla rubbed her temples, her eyes were sore from the crying and her head was starting to pound from the wine she had quickly made use of. She heard gentle footsteps approaching her hideaway.

Shadowheart sat next to her, silent for a few moments before offering up another bottle. Chyla raised an eyebrow in question.

“Shouldn’t you be telling me to pick myself up, or take it easy on the wine? I don’t know something wise and profound?” she rubbed her sleeve to her eyes wiping away the lingering tears.

“I’m a cleric, not your mother. And if I’m being honest that looked like an ordeal worthy of at least two bottles.” She gave a sympathetic smile to Chyla as she popped the cork out of the bottle. Chyla chuckled and took the bottle, taking a long drink from it before she rested her head on Shadowheart’s shoulder.

“I don’t even know what to do now, Shadowheart. I feel like such a fool.” the halfelf wrapped an arm around Chyla, rubbing her shoulder in comfort.

“Well, if it helps, Gale made his rounds at the party, continued to be scolded by Tara like she was his disapproving mother, then decided to take his leave.” Chyla stiffened at his name, but relaxed into her friend once more. “Everyone is worried. I know for a fact Karlach feels absolutely awful. Mostly though, we just want you to return and attempt to enjoy the rest of the night, however impossible that may seem right now.”

Chyla sighed and took another long drink from the bottle of wine. “I know I should. I haven’t even said proper hellos to everyone yet…” She got up and stretched her legs, and offered a hand down to Shadowheart, which the cleric took with a gentle smile. She then pulled Chyla into a warm hug, squeezing her tight.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned since our adventure, it’s that happiness is an active thing. You have to fight for it everyday. Like you would a battle.” She pulled back from the hug but kept her hands on Chyla’s shoulders, looking into her face with a soft expression. “I’m proud of you, Chy. You stood up for yourself. You made yourself heard and you didn’t back down. Don’t ever think you’re not enough. Gale’s the fool, not you.” Her soft expression became stern in a loving way. Chyla smiled, she could feel more tears starting to well in her eyes, but she brushed them away quickly and nodded.

Shadowheart escorted her back to the party where she was greeted with several hugs and smiles. Karlach profusely apologized and had a few choice profanities about the whole debacle. Jaheira and Halsin offered sage wisdom, Jaheira being a bit more cold hearted about it than Halsin, but the two took to the role of wizened elders nonetheless.

Wyll came over to offer a comforting hug which she accepted. He had no words, but instead wore a smile that was somewhere between pity and compassion. Wyll was always so genuine and caring, Chyla appreciated his presence here tonight, and even more his understanding that words about the situation were becoming exhausting.

After a few minutes of being the center of attention everyone could tell Chyla was getting uncomfortable. “Come now, leave her be. I believe we were in the middle of watching an arm wrestling match between Karlach and Minsc?” Shadowheart said as she directed the rest of the companions away. Karlach pat Chyla on the back as she sauntered over to Minsc.

“Alright big guy, let’s settle this once and for all!” the fiery tiefling bellowed.

Chyla laughed at the antics and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Shadowheart. She nodded and smiled in response. Chyla spent a few minutes in quiet contemplation, gazing around the camp that held so many memories. Before she could fall into another sorrowful wallowing session she heard Astarion’s voice behind her.

“He’s an idiot, you know.” She turned to face him, seeing an expression she couldn’t quite place falling over his face. “I… I’m sorry things happened as they did. No one deserves that.” He stumbled over his words slightly, tripping over what exactly Chyla wasn’t sure. She gave him an appreciative smile.

“Thank you, Astarion. Though if you don’t mind I’d love to talk about anything else.” she laughed at her own desperation. “Tell me about what you’ve been up to. I heard you took to the Underdark?”

Astarion pulled up a chair for her, and then one for himself. “Darling, I would love nothing more than to talk about myself.” He quipped with a smirk. They sat at the table for the rest of the night, Astarion telling her of his time since they parted ways back in Baldur’s Gate. He told her stories of the life he’s been attempting to build for himself, his siblings, and all the spawn they freed. It’s come with its own trials, rough patches, and hurdles but he claimed it made the time pass by quickly.

Before she knew it the night was drawing to a close. Everyone was turning in despite Minsc demanding a third rematch against Karlach. Lae’zel chiding him for not accepting defeat at the hands of a superior opponent.

Chyla yawned and decided it was time to turn in as well. “I suppose I should at least attempt a trance.” she said as she got up from the table.

“You go ahead, I’ll keep watch.” Astarion responded back to her, a call back to some of their first nights together. Chyla smiled at him, truly thankful for the conversation that kept her distracted for the remainder of the night.

She wandered to a tent that was set up for her. She crawled in removing her party attire, undressing to her small clothes. She stared up at the ceiling of the tent in stillness. Quiet tears began to flow as she closed her eyes. The first of many nights crying herself to sleep.

“You show me just how much I have to live for.”

“With you, I forget my goddess...”

“I love you.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #Chyla #Back to the start

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sobasluuurp · 1 year

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What an incredibly poignant statement. When I read this, a cold shock went through my body, because this definition -- this worldview -- is the exact impetus for all conflict in the story of BNHA.

So many members of the League, from Toga to Twice to Shigaraki, just wanted someone to understand their pain. To reach out that ever-elusive hand and offer help. As children, they waited long hours for even one person to show them a sign of compassion. They waited until they could not bear to anymore. And so they became active in their pursuit of help. Their methods were messy and harmful, but in the end all they wanted was acknowledgment of their sorrow and what caused it. It was their (bloody, deadly, undoable) cry for help. It stayed a cry for help until they became numb to the pain. Until they concluded that nothing would ever change for them. That the warmth they were seeking and mourning would never be theirs. It’s why Dabi can’t feel a thing anymore. Why Shigaraki just wants to destroy, with no plan to rebuild.

Why, just a couple chapters ago, Toga hardened her heart against the heroes she loved and became a proper “villain.”

Because she, like the others before her, had been cut down so many times, and was sick of being kicked to the curb.

On the other side, Deku and his friends have been aspiring to be heroes since before the series even began. But ultimately, they were just students. Zygotes, at that. They saw and listened to the violent aggressors around them and wondered, questioned. Defiantly cried that they would save everyone, even the spirit of a little boy long since locked away. It was not until the battles in which Deku screamed out in a moment of protective rage that he would never forgive Shigaraki, not until Uraraka told Toga that she could not relate to her, that they began to assert themselves as heroes equal to those who had raised them. They are heroes who protect the public good by beating down and defeating their villains. Even if they still have doubts of the morality of it all.

The conflict at hand cannot be resolved so long as this status quo stays in effect. Because there are godly powerhouses on both sides and neither one will back down. In order to resolve the violence and grief, there must first be understanding. Communication. Shigaraki is Deku’s villain because his all-consuming hatred challenges Deku’s ability (both physical and emotional) to reach out his hand and save him. But, by the same coin, Deku is Shigaraki’s hero because his defiant love for those around him challenges his long-held belief that no one could ever care about him.

When the dust settles and the coast is clear, there will be no more hero billboards. No more demon kings. There will simply be battered, bloody people in the rubble, taking in the others’ presences as if for the first time. When they can look each other in the eye and say, “I see you. I will open up to you,” that’s when hope stops decaying and starts rebuilding.

#bnha manga spoilers #bnha meta #bnha 378 #deku #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #Tenko Shimura #toga himiko #uraraka ochako #dabi #todoroki toya #twice #jin bubaigawara

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clearcloudlesssky · 7 months

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GOD I NEED SOMEONE WHOS READ CRIME&PUNISHMENT AND PERFUME TO TALK TO ME

especially about raskolnikov vs grenouille like there's so many comparisons to make and i'm not eloquent enough to spit all of them out

like from the very beginning of c&p raskolnikov is almost uncomfortably human? he tries his best to isolate himself and alienate himself but in the end he's dragged back by a sense of humanity (via sonia?) and that's what redeems him

but on the other hand grenouille is characterized by his inhumanity, from the very beginning he feels anything but, even when he mingles with others (the scene where he goes into town wearing his 'human' scent for the first time) he feels like a wolf in sheeps clothing, and the fleece he's wearing only makes him look more wolfish

OK ONE OF THE BIGGEST THINGS: raskolnikov is obsessed with the idea of the extraordinary man, the superman, the napoleon. he commits the murder to find out if he is one of those supermen, and when confronted by the evidence that he isn't and probably will never be, his pride prevents him from acknowledging it.

whereas raskolnikov seeks a napoleon or a superman, grenouille almost unconsciously becomes/is one. where raskolnikov must actively seek to challenge and test his theory, grenouille carries it out with essentially no remorse, constantly (unknowingly and uncaringly) taking advantage of the law with absolutely no punishment or repercussion, and eventually becoming the said "napoleon" that raskolnikov may have hoped to become

imo raskolnikov is a man who hoped to become a napoleon, but was redeemed by the fact and realization that he was not. grenouille was a man not even aware of said 'napoleon', but became one of his own admission, transgressing the law as raskolnikov stated that he would have had the right to do, and creating a sense of godliness and greatness. BUT he also proves that raskolnikov's extraordinary man isn't really something to pursue, he feels nothing when he openly becomes a conquerer, rather that is the point where he feels the most empty. i think that that sort of idea is also shown in c&p? raskolnikov almost destroys himself in his pursuit of the extraordinary man, and grenouille shows that the extraordinary man is not such an extraordinary after all. i'm unsure about the thoughts here though haha. i want to come up with some binding statement, but i feel like saying "extraordinary man bad" isn't a good expression of my thoughts (there's also raskolnikov's dream at the end of the novel which connects to the topic but i don't wanna talk about what i've mostly forgotten)

so moving forward

raskolnikov's reasons for murdering alyona ivanovna were totally rational. the reasoning "she was useless/did more harm than good, therefore i can kill her" was coldly logical, and is a awesome representation of how necessary the balance of logic and emotion is (sort of like science? it's a sense of just because you can doesn't mean you should, and the main thing overpowering the "can" is morals and emotion, which combats that cold rationality of the "can")

grenouille's reasons for murdering are very passionate, the first time he kills isn't premeditated at all, he finds a scent he likes, and in a fit of pleasure hunts it down and absorbs it. he's a representative of the opposite end of the spectrum. where raskolnikov represents the evildoing of relying solely on logic, grenouille is the wickedness of only following your emotion, which can definitely also be harmful, maybe even more so

when raskolnikov commits his murder, he's totally overcome by a near masochistic need for redemption (or you can just say he becomes more unhinged/mentally unstable than he already was)

when grenouille kills for the first time he has no such feelings or thoughts, it just happens and he all but forgets about it, and even goes on to repeat the action. he shows absolutely no remorse and given the chance he's definitely kill the first girl again (raskolnikov would not. i'm sort of of the opinion he doesn't feel guilt for killing alyona herself, but he feels remorse for the crime in general and probably lizaveta idk i'll talk about it later maybe)

Raskolnikov's sense of humanity and togetherness? is brought back into him via Sonia&co, and basically the majority of the book is his punishment/start of regeneration. Grenouille is alone from the very beginning, he has absolutely no one and he never gets that redemption. (i loved the ending of perfume so much)

there's a little bit more in my head and this was super scattered and random but i can't persuade anyone else ik to read both of these and talk to me about it and my english teacher scares me so this is the best i can do - please feel free to debate me or say more!!

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justsomeno1s · 10 months

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I know this probably exists already/better, but enjoy this list of Fear & Hunger Souls, Complete with personal (flawed) interpretation; Both types confirmed and not!

Endless: Adventuring or theiving, Tresspassing or Vigilantising- The rogue's soul. Held by Cahara, Nilvan, and Karin. Seems to be a soul of freedom- No rules apply above their own, moral or not.

Enlightened: Knowledge and the Pursuit of it, enstrengthening one's mind and becoming closer to the Gods- The Scholar's soul. Held by Enki, Valteil, and O'saa. Seems to connect with knowledge and learning, Notably in regards to Magic/the Old Gods.

The question is, would an enlightened soul be inclined to pursue non-godly knowledges? Like, science or something?

Tormented: Suffering, Loss, Endurance, Overcoming one's phyiscal limits- The Prisoner's Soul. Held by Ragnavidr, Ronn Chambara, and August. Seems to be a double edged sword- You will suffer, but you will endure it.

Dominating/Domination: Charisma, Leadership, Interpersonal Skill, and a Lack of Reflection- The Leader's Soul. Held by D'arce and Francois. While not always in positions of power, it seems that Dominating Souls are inclinded towards interaction, whether human or not- When unable or unwilling to remain human, Francois instead breeds and raises his hounds. Stubborness and a lack of introspection may also connected, as both characters that have this soul type are displayed with this trait.

Notably, none of the Main Termina Cast have this soul type.

For the others, there are only one known holder each soul type to my knowledge. Therefore, we can only look at the individuals for information.

Solitary: Independence, Survival, Introversion, Withdrawal- The very concept of being alone. The Hermit's Soul. Held by Levi.

Is there a notable difference between "forcibly excluded" and "personally chosen" solitudes for the individual?

Caressing: Care and concern- Caretaking. Held by Abella. Most clearly shown in her backstory, where she picks up working against the war.

Shadowed: Overlooked, capable- Assumedly hardworking/passionate. Held by Olivia.

Tainted: Defined by contradictory actions and thoughts- Bad things, good reasons. Held by Marcoh.

It could very well be a variance from "Petty theif feeding family" to "Robin Hood" to "Mercenary w/o empathy for victims". Its hard to narrow down.

Changeling: Adaptiblity and resilience- When others would break, changeling souls bend. Held by Marina.

Could it represent variance? idk brain's fuzzy.

Latent: Untapped potential, inability to give all. Held by Tanaka.

Could it attract death? Or is Tanaka just super unlucky?

Radiating: Burns bright, then burns out. Short but exceptional life. Held by Samarie

I dont like Samarie, but her life was certainly beyond normality- even in universe.

Blank: A subdued nature- Quiet, a background character. Held by Da'an.

Da'an doesn't get moonscorched, instead getting possesed by Pocketcat- Could it that his soul allowed him to be overwritten by pocketcat?

Chaotic: Goal oriented, but two-faced- Willing to do anything to get what they want. Cares little for alliances. Held by Pav.

Decrepit: Self absorbed and uncaring- Cares only about self and own pleasure. Held by Caligura.

I don't have a complete grasp on some of them- Changeling, Blank, Chaotic and Decrepit are all some level of unsatisfying to me, but I dont know how to improve them.

And then there's Henryk' Suffocated soul- I have no fucking clue. Is it repression based? Want based? The opposite? I don't understand Henryk very well, and that means I can't break him down into his "base components" so to speak. He's a catcaller, a master chef who feeds the entire group for free, and potentially the first moonscorched. He's skilled with melee weapons, a massive flirt, and poisons a vulnerable group if given the chance. All of that is great, but tells me NOTHING about his soul.

Guess that's what happens when your main claim to fame is "mysterious backstory", lol!

Anyway. Enjoy this blurb of my thought process! Please feel free to let me know what I got wrong/missed!

#fear and hunger #no1sy #long post #f&h #f&h analysis #f&h2 #dont mind the random posts- got into a fender bender and would like not to think about it #also I blame totk for my lack of activity lol

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running-with-the-feels · 3 months

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Uhhh I know this is kinda random but do you have any NSFW headcanons for Rain?

ooooooooooooo buddy, I have been hiding my love for Rain so carefully and now I get a chance to inflict it upon everyone!!!!!! Here we go

this man is a literal demigod so he's got stamina for days, he can go for HOURS and his refractory period is practically nonexistent

He likes being able to manhandle his partners, being able to pick them up and toss them onto the bed or pin them down and fuck them slow until they're begging him to go faster. Luckily with his strength, he can

He loves receiving head more than pretty much anything else during sex, it's the closest he can get to feeling worshipped and he Craves it

ironically enough, when his partner gives him good head he'll tend to get really compliant if they ask for things, like, he's very agreeable after getting a bj

Most of the other characters peg him as a more dominant bed partner, but he's actually comfortable in either role depending on who he's with and how he's feeling that day.

Sometimes he wants to hold his partner down and make them beg and other times he wants to be tied to the bed and soothed while they ride him for hours. It all depends on context

Has a praise kink. He wants to hear his partners say that he's making them feel good, that he's the best they've ever had, he wants to hear his name start to sound like a prayer in their mouth.

Also has a breeding kink. He's a demigod and a royal desperate to leave his mark on history and be worshipped, he wants to knock his partner up so bad he's nearly mad with it when they indulge him.

Whenever his partners walk away without being pregnant (whether bc they can't be or bc they took contraceptives, safe sex y'all) it is not for lack of trying

he will shower his partners in gifts, usually jewelry that is opulent and beautiful, and very much enjoys seeing them beneath him with nothing but that jewelry on.

prides himself on his ability to make his partners orgasm multiple times. He has a whole system for it too that any recurring partners figure out very quickly.

He always starts with his mouth and goes for two before using his fingers (1-2) and then his dick (as many times as possible before they're begging to stop.

doesn't have the healthiest mindset with sex tho, in that he's decided if he can't be worshipped for his birthright as a son of Argus, then perhaps he can be worship as a sex and fertility god for his prowess, with his actual godly nature backing his claim to divinity up.

likes to leave marks, he wants his partners to remember him and be ruined for anyone else

usually doesn't take people to bed more than a handful of times for fear of getting attached, save for one notable exception where he genuinely thought he had found his match only to be abandoned. To this day he refuses to say who it is

Also a big fan of toys in bed, whatever he can use to prove his skill and get his partner off is his favorite thing

Very good sex etiquette, despite his attitude towards it. He always makes sure to talk things out before hand and give aftercare, as giving his partners a transcendent experience will better aid his pursuit of worship

also really likes to overstim and edge people to the point that they cry, having that kind of control and bringing pleasure that strong makes him feel satisfied in a way little else does.

Very careful to enforce boundaries and safewords too, to the point that most people who have gone to bed with him report feeling safer in his bed than they have in anyone else's, despite his dangerous reputation.

that's all I can think of rn, but lemme know if you want more. Also who should I do NSFW headcanons for next?

#rain mk #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x #mortal kombat 11

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blueberryfruitbat · 5 months

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so. out of the blue (haha) but brain has been ROTTING over my OCs as of late. and i might be drawing a few in the upcoming weeks eheheheheh... This lad is a very old OC and anyone interested about his history can read under the cut if they want... Content warning: Art from when i was a stupid little teenager.

So... This is Calian, a Zelda oc ive had since i was 15 not even joking. Back during a playthrough of Twilight Princess a friend and I made a joke about some random dude being the opposite of link in that game. Just an evil asshole who got twilighted into being a cat, then it devolved into a complete joke character of an evil Ganon obsessed catboy mage that just HATED everyone's guts.

His original design made in like 2016. So fast-forward to 2017, BotW releases in my birthday month! I get it on my Wiiu because that friend and I swapped Skyward Sword and BotW since they didn't have a Wiiu but got it from a friend. Botw introduced the Yiga, and BOY did i jump on that concept, i already had a very evil, loyal to Ganon OC just sitting there, so boom, man became a Yiga.

Artfight Ref from ~2018

from there I finally started developing his story. He started becoming more than just "heehoo evil catboy", he became a what used to be a Sheikah (Sheikah design has been lost to PC changes, but did at one point in his life have the white hair. As well as his name now fitting the Sheikah's naming scheme of fruit and vegetables, [Calian = Scallion]).

He was completely absorbed and obsessed with unlocking long lost magic from the golden ages of Hyrule. Going mad into his studies so much so he began using unpracticed magic on himself turning him into the heehoo catboy. He was caught practicing this magic and banished because he had become immoral in his pursuits, willing to test magic on himself and others with little care. Eventually finding a place in the Yiga clan to carry out his studies,

Then for a while thats just how he was for a bit...

THEN TEARS OF THE KINGDOM CAME OUT AND GAVE US ZONAI AND MY FURRY ASS BRAIN LOOKED AT THEM AND WENT "WELP CALIAN IS THAT NOW."

Recent Design 2023 His story basically stayed the same, just now instead of being obsessed with general magic he became obsessed with the Zonai. Craving their magic and godly power he strived to meld his body into that of one to obtain even just a fraction of their power. While he succeeded in changing physical form into a Zonai he lacks many of their defining characteristics, such as the third eye and those long sought godly powers. Though his physical change still gave him a kind of power, while not being as strong as a true Zonai he still has passable magical skills that when not under much scrutiny can easily fool the untrained eye. Allowing him to pass himself off as a real Zonai and gain power and favor in the seedier parts of the Yiga. After all, its easy to pretend you're a part of a long gone race when barely anyone remembers them and their full capabilities, just make a few objects float and scribble some runes, its enough to convince a few meatheads you're the genuine article.

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someweirdoreblogger · 9 months

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You have an "admirer," apparently. One that has no sense oncesoever.

Odin, the All-father, iron fist of the Norse.

You use everything in your willpower, hidden deep, to not flip your shit each time he graces your weaker presence.

Odin comeths baring no warning. Does a King need formal reason to wander inside his own castle?

Suddenly, day after day, night after night-this intimidating figure finds you worthy of not just a simple glance.

Not a word spoken, without distraction nor misdirection. He is elegant down to how he walks, with purpose and unwavering resilience.

The All-father is supreme and tyrannical in godly definition, of the legendary Bifrost's chosen few. A rapid tide in constant pursuit, edgeless flood overcoming building after building in its merciless path of endless devastation, devouring those who dare oppose the roaring waves.

Odin is... just there.

Next to little ol' you, a lowly servant, the great All-father. Without a care in the world. The sheer audacity to treat this like it's not extremely unusual for an all-powerful god such as himself to take interest in another out of the blue, let alone someone so painstakingly simple. Someone never pinned on the radar of another god, definitely not one of their strongest ancients.

Either you found him, or likewise, the latter; waiting ever patiently by the bay of your active sector, stuck in the ground like a tree stump. Is he even breathing? Feet rooted, immoveable as stone.

It's hard to not miss him in this lightful realm, a towering candle of stern darkness-permeant arrogance written on his face. Wrinkles forming indifferent strokes, old indeed, but nevertheless immortal. Long scars, they decorate him in tight and unnerving brushes. A bleak void carries the stinging yellow jackets in his eyes, stoic, unrelenting. A force to be reckoned with, even then, any blind fool can tell this highly dangerous god homes a deep attractiveness mortals are blessed to witness. The devil is hideous on one hand, yet beautiful on another. People become frantic in trying to appease their quite unexpected guest, you can't blame them, if you didn't know what Odin was here for-vaguely at the very least-you would've tripped on yourself to ensure no bloodshed as well, no one wants to wipe up intestines and tethered remains off the walls. Frightened assistants question one another, curious bombarding. A sea of peeking servants and turning heads, eager but not too eager to learn the answer to the question lingering in everyone's mind- -Why Odin of all damn people is in private servant quarters? Endless blunt remarks of his loyal crows fill the air, interesting how they obviously contrast, scolding unlucky others getting far too close for their liking (Getting used to that nonstop bickering and annoying flaps of their feathery wings deserves a round of applause admittedly). Shouting in a voice you swear can be heard all across Heaven that the All-father needs not justify himself to weaker masses. And soon, the crowd disperses till Odin is all that remains, looking upon reality like it matters little to him in that current moment. Continues to stand moving not an inch, dead to the knowing world. Maybe he was ready to stay there for years, just for you. Ridiculous, but the determination itself is admirable, terrifying as the person it belonged too. Holding, distant, stubborn on holy soil older than your great grandfather until you're unfortunately noticed; The only servant Odin made eye-contact within the past few hours, a small part of you immediately died in that current moment. Caught. Well, better to accept fate then delay the inevitable.

Furthermore, Odin never fucking leaves. Unless swayed by the heavy burden of his responsibilities to Valhalla, he is practically glued to you. Hip to hip, never behind.

Where you least expect him, somehow, he has unadmitted reason for popping up into your vision like a mole, driven by curiosity.

Coincidentally, in your most favored places. Including personal ones.

(There next to your bed watching you sleep, there behind you during your break, there standing next to you as you dust the priceless artifacts of the great halls. Wherever you go Odin is almost certain to trail after, turning this into a childish game of follow the leader.

Odin goes where you go, regardless of actually where 'where' is. At this point, you can only expect but never predict. Quick as lightening, an invisible thundering sound in the distance, appearing where most convenient. Your face sinks the moment his face enters your sights, you won't shake him off matterless of whether or not you really tried, both stuck together till night falls from Olympus.

(Yeah right, you shaking off Odin. No fool can ever dream hard enough to achieve such a feat.)

It's an unlucky series of unwanted occurrences that all servants know better then to suggest otherwise.

You swear, this is on purpose. But for what?

Pleasure?

Curiosity?

This torture of constantly hanging on the end of the cliff, not knowing if someone behind you is waiting the perfect moment to push. To see you fall down into the bottomless abyss. Thor and Loki had to get their tendencies somewhere.

You are fairly confident in yourself, even when it comes to dealing with the gods. You have worked for Olympus long enough that little to nothing surprises you anymore. You've witnessed aplenty things, from disasters to miracles, you have never seen-

-this.)

And Odin just...stares at you the entire time, much to your intense confusion and unbridled fear.

Odin grants no hints and admits nothing, an intimidating statue of a great towering godfather who can erase your mortal existence off Heaven in under a millisecond. Completely and utterly unpredictable, reeking of boundless bloodlust and pure fighting prowess. Won't take the unrivaled intellect of Tesla to recognize Odin can't be a bearer of good news.

He irritates the sensitive hairs on your neck, pricked up, suffocating in fright. His aura scorches you, a transparent brand of godly fire. Daring you to move out of line, defiance is forever intolerable in the biased eyes of the Heavens. You can't imagine doing anything to potentially earn his ire.

You have no intention of betraying Valhalla, unfond as you are about the gods, not that you'd foolishly announce that to fucking Odin.

Your conclusions are empty stales of bread, no meat and cheese, sauce, mayonnaise or mustard. No excuse for this argumentatively, obsessive behavior about following you like a shitty puppy. You can't guess why Odin is even here to begin with, why he bothers you with never-ending oversight.

Thankfully, Odin only looks. Just watching.

Seems merely seeing you just living is a newfound hobby for Valhalla's ruling god, whatever that means for you.

As deeply unnerving as his constant observation is, you suppose it could be worse, as you and your beloved nymph friends speculate. All you can do is wait for something to happen. You take it as a sign to perform your duties more perfectly, though it was more out of crawling desperation to live than inspiration.

(You read and carefully organize the ancient books in a quiet, knowing patience.

Counting the lively torches upon the grand Olympian walls, which ones are lit, which aren't.

Writing down assigned addresses, preparing for the awaiting visitation of the next Pantheon for Hermes.)

Non-blinking, holes burning at the back of your head. Analyzing the most basic specks and wrinkles of your face and neckline, fair hair whistling silently against Winter winds. Eyes of an eagle locked onto their target, dreadfully focused. By far the most scared you have ever been in your entire life, and that's saying a lot from a mortal servant of the gods. Luckily, it gets easier and easier to ignore. Silence seems to be Odin's consistent trait.

Odin is a walking blank slate blessed with legs. He does nothing, says nothing, and acknowledges nothing. Nothing but you, in the slightest form of a distant bat of thick eyelashes thrown in your direction.

You can't be certain if that's better or worse.

Apart from constant observation spilling not a single question, Odin hasn't raised a hand or tried to bring upon you any sort of harm. Made not even the tiniest peep across your numerous encounters. Done anything other than made you incredibly creeped out.

Odin is a constant, looming shadow. A curse, razor-sharp, an unpredictable element of nature. A sinking feeling of never being left alone in peace, sticking on the very edge of every corner of your unrest. That dark gaze is something no one ever forgets.

Certainly not you, a victim of that judgmental pair of golden ores, staring into your soul. Every truth of you naked to his eyes, like glass.

You still have no clue why Odin decided that you must be the center of his undeterred attention.

(Oh, you poor unfortunate soul,

If only you knew the storm coming your way.)

#mypost #anime #manga #record of ragnarok #odin is his own wanring #odin #record of ragnarok odin #ror odin #odin ror #record of ragnarok x reader #odin x reader #tw implied stalking #tw yandere-ish #kinda?#this can be taken as that

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