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amintyworld · 3 years

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Child of The Dome (SBI Rust Server)

Platonic Wilbur Soot x Reader and Tommyinnit x Reader. We got Dadbur and Big Broinnit... It’s all about the found family, folks!

A/N: *Gets a SBI Rust fic idea* *Looks up to see its not written and no one is interested in writing it* *Realizing YOU’RE the one who can write it into existence* As a reminder, this is all RP - THE RUST SERVER HAS LORE, GUYS GALS AND NONBINARY PALS! Also, reader is gender neutral. Enjoy! - Minty

TW: Murder, Major Character Death (Kind of, they can respawn?), Religious Themes, Cult-like behavior, Kidnapping, Cannibalism, Cursing, child abuse (?), shooting/gun violence, sickness. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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Thunder and lightning roared outside of the Dome Church as Wilbur and Tommy sat inside, continuing their sermon to a few others despite the weather conditions. Just a few hours earlier, Sofa had objected when the rain began to leak through the roof, and was promptly locked outside as punishment, which seemed to quickly quiet a few complaints from the others. “Now, my people, you shall not live in fear of the storm for the Dome will protect all who preach and live its word!” Wilbur said, standing at the podium. “Persevere and the Dome will reward you!”

Murmurs of agreement seemed to sweep through the crowd as their feet shivered - bare, wet and cold. They rose to their feet slowly as Iamty began to play the piano and they hummed along with the tune, their spirits beginning to be lifted. Water seeped into their clothes and chills ran down their spine but nonetheless they stood as Seepeekay, the known Minister, began his prepared speech over the music. Tommy walked through the aisle, holding out a basket for donations as the churchgoers threw whatever they could think to offer inside.

Suddenly a loud knock came from the door - panicked and urgent.

Wilbur grumbled at the interruption, weaving his way through the crowd and opening the door. “Sofa, you have to relearn the Dome’s ways before you can-'' Words died on his lips as Sophie looked to Wilbur worried, a small bundle in her arms. The baby’s cries blended with the thunder and lightning from above, and Wilbur’s eyes scanned the child’s in curiosity.

“Wilbur, I found them outside near the Dome, they’re freezing cold I dunno what to-!” Wilbur’s mind whirred as it began to put the pieces together, frozen in place and not knowing exactly what to do next. Tommy rushed up next to Wilbur, asking what was going on until his gaze landed on the baby as well. “...Wilbur?”

At this, Wilbur’s body quickly snapped to attention, taking the child from Sophie and turning, closing the door shut behind him and keeping Sophie outside. The baby’s eyes glimmered in the light of the torches, their hair a matted and muddy mess padded flat in a circular shape - a dome like shape, if you will. Slowly, he raised his hand to caress the child’s cheek, a fondness beginning to grow in his heart as their cries slowed to a stop, looking up to him in wonder. A loving smile stretched across his face as he booped their nose, sending them into a fit of laughter. Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but begin to melt at the baby’s smile. He held them close, his own body warmth beginning to warm their small freezing body.

“The storm! It’s stopping!” Pebble shouted as he looked outside, noticing the sun begin to poke through the clouds as the raindrops began to slow.

“Messiah, I believe I have witnessed a miracle today.” Wilbur called as everyone turned to look at him. “This child… this child has stopped the storm, they have stopped the storm for they are a child of the Dome itself. The Dome has spared us for helping one of its own.” Wilbur held up the baby for the congregation to see. “This baby is a miracle and a blessing, a gift of the Dome to us, a gift we must not take lightly.”

“What are we going to do with it?” Scott asked. “Can we- should we just... take them back to the Dome?”

Wilbur couldn’t help the pang of selfishness that came over him at the suggestion. “Take the child back? Slop, the great Dome does not make a mistake. It has given us great gifts and now it’s given us this baby, and you want to rid yourself of them? Shameful! We shall embrace this opportunity, this gift. We’ll make them part of our great family.” Wilbur said, going back to the podium and cradling the child close in his arms. “Since I found them, I’ll look after them.” He moved to press his forehead against the baby’s as the rest of the church looked on in interest. “I dub thee… Dirt.” Wilbur smiled as the congregation erupted in applause.

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Tommy at first objected to adding another person in their already cramped house, but eventually, though he wouldn’t admit it, he became attached to the kid as the months passed. On a particular cold winter day, your crib was stationed by the fireplace, Wilbur out gathering food and supplies. Tommy had one mission and one mission only - to teach you your first swear.

“Come on, it’s not hard. Just say ‘fuck’. You can do it.” Tommy encouraged as you sat in your crib and looked at him, head tilted slightly in confusion. Your small hands reached out toward him.

“Twoh-towh!” You babbled with a smile, and Tommy’s heart melted at the nickname as he sighed fondly.

“Yeah, Tom-Tom.” He agreed, as you reached toward him, wanting to be let out as he carefully picked you up and held you in his arms. Your hands found their way into his hair as they pulled and played with it, squealing happily. “You really like my hair, don’t you?” He asked, amused until you pulled a bit too hard, making the teenager wince in pain, quickly bringing you back down to sit in his lap. “Okay, you played with my hair for a little while, can you say ‘fuck’ now?” You looked confused, moving to pick up a small pebble on the ground instead. “Dirt, I know you can do it, okay?” He moved you so you sat facing him again, and you huffed slightly at the loss of your pebble. “Say ‘fuck’. Like this: ‘ffff-uck’.” He said slower, as if that could possibly do anything to help. Your head tilted again, confused at why Tommy looked so disgruntled at his wasted efforts. He sighed in defeat, moving to put you back in your crib again.

Anger bubbled inside your chest - you didn’t want to be put back in the crib, you wanted to play. “F...FWOA!” You shouted, making Tommy’s eyes glimmer with hope.

“That’s closer, come on, you can do it, Dirt-!” He said, pausing and holding you in mid-air.

Beginning to put the pieces together, you realized that saying the word will keep you from being put back in the crib. Determined, your mind whirred as it looked to Tommy in curiosity. “Fwok…?”

“Almost there, you almost got it…” Tommy encouraged. “Say ‘fuck’.”

“Fffwok, Fuok… fuck!” You managed after a few tries, and Tommy’s eyes brightened with glee.

“Yes, Dirt. Fuck.”

“Fuck!” You repeated, smiling as Tommy once again smiled, bringing you back to the floor. “Fuck.”

The excitement of the exchange slowly made you grow tired as Tommy shifted, leaning against the wall as you began to drift off against his chest, a tiny fistful of his shirt in your hand. Snow began to fall outside, quickly turning into a snowstorm. Feeling tired and not wanting to disturb the sleeping being on his stomach, Tommy slowly began to drift off, leaning against the wall. Only an hour later Wilbur burst into the scene, firmly closing the door behind himself and carrying three large bundles of wood. He looked around, pulling off the scarf around his face and internally awwing at the sight - Big Brother Tommy, who would have thought? Tommy’s hands never moved from supporting you against his chest, worried about you falling over. Not wanting to disturb the siblings, he quietly shed his snow-covered gear, grabbing a blanket and pulling it up around Tommy’s sleeping form, ruffling his hair slightly and carefully talking you from Tommy’s grasp. Your Dad quickly settled you back in your crib, giving your forehead a soft kiss.

“Goodnight, you two.”

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You slowly awoke in the warm arms of someone, outside in the snow, and your three-year-old body shivered. Where was Dad? Dad always was there, if not Tommy, so where was he? You looked up to see a hooded figure with jet black hair and blue eyes. Whoever it was, that was not Dad or Tom-Tom, and you began to cry, getting scared and wanting to see them again. Tears ran down your cheeks as the hooded teenager looked panicked. “Shh, shh… please, you’ve gotta be quiet-”

“WA-BA!” You cried, failing your body as you wailed, crying more.

“Uh, I…” He said, not exactly knowing how to handle the situation. “It’s okay, it’s okay! I know Wilbur, I know your Dad, okay? I’m… I’m taking you right to him, just please stop crying…” He begged. Your body shivered as you sniffled, and let out a sneeze. “Dammit, I told you to stop crying…” He cursed, pulling you closer to his cloak to keep you warm. “Just hold tight, we’re almost there.”

“Wa-ba... “ You sniffed, and the teen’s face shifted into one of… guilt?

“Fucking christ Wilbur what are you doing with a kid-?!” He mumbled to himself, frustrated. “All I wanted to do was check inside and leave, but no.. of fucking course you have a kid-!” You quickly approached a large house of sorts as your captor took a deep breath in front of the door, looking down at you. “Hey, it’s okay. If it goes well, you won’t feel any pain.” He nervously smiled, before looking into your eyes as the smile quickly fell. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? It’s not exactly like I have much of a choice here. If I didn’t return with you, they’d…” He trailed off, before slightly shaking his head of thoughts, pushing the door open and stepping inside. After a few tries, he firmly pulled the door shut, carrying you closer inside and next to a small fireplace that dimly lit the room. “Guys, I’m back. I got the kid.”

Your eyes filled with fear as two figures seemingly appeared from the shadows, smiling and wide-eyed. You quickly drove your face to hide in your captor’s cloak. One with blonde hair and brown eyes reached out toward you slowly, making you retreat further into your captor’s cloaked embrace. “I can’t believe the rumors are true.” The other spoke - much shorter than the other two members, with brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, sporting a green poncho. “The famous ‘Child of the Dome’.” He turned to your cloaked captor. “Much trouble with the wall, Krinios?”

“No, that special ax you gave me worked like a charm,” Krinios replied. Your eyes were fixated on the shorter man’s, noticing how similar to Tommy he looked - they were probably the same age - but something wasn’t right with his eyes. They looked cold and inviting, the light went from where it once had brought warmth and life to the teen - different from the curious scheming brightness of Tommy’s, or how your Dad’s eyes seemed to fill with laughter and love all the time. You didn’t like any of this one bit, you wanted to be back home in Wilbur’s embrace as he’d hum a lullaby, rocking you back and forth to get you to sleep. Not in this room filled with hungry stares and eyes locked onto your body like a wolf’s.

“Come on, little one… I just want to play a game.” The blond one ushered, and you shook your head ‘no’ violently, clinging onto Krinios’s arm tightly, not daring to let go.

“What’s… what’s going on here?” The shorter one asked, gesturing to the scene. “Did they imprint on you or something?”

“Look - I dunno Tubbo,” Krinios admitted, holding up his hands in a sort of surrender. “Maybe they got sick in the cold, they were crying a lot.”

“And you didn’t stuff a sock in their mouth?” The blonde one’s eyes stared down at Krinios’s intently. “I told you we needed the little shit quiet, what if someone heard you?!”

“It’s a baby, Hycei!” Krinios snapped, and Hycei’s mouth turned into a thin line.

“Good god, you feel sympathetic for it…” The blonde groaned before snatching you up forcefully as you let out a wail, grabbing for Krinios desperately. “This is the only way to send a clear message to that freak of a cult that calls itself a church, not to mention Wilbur. We show them what happens when they decide to fuck with us. If we don’t get even now they’ll just keep thinking they can get away with doing whatever they want to us because we won’t fight back.”

“It’s an eye for an eye, Krinios - for all the times they’ve killed us, taken our stuff… they’re bullies, Krinios. Bullies that won’t stop unless we fight back, and Fort Kickass isn’t cowards. Sometimes when you’re the bad guy, Krinios, the only way to fight fire is with fire. Besides,” Tubbo asked, his lips curling in a smile as he unsheathed his knife. “You wanted to try flesh right off the bone, right?” As Tubbo came toward you, you squirmed and tried to wail before Hycei clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your sound.

“Wait… wait wait wait!” Krinios snapped to action as he thickly swallowed, getting between you and the knife. “What if the kid’s so sick, it affects the flesh? What if we get sick from it?” Tubbo’s cold eyes shifted from his friend’s to the knife in his hand. “I think we should just give it a day or two, you know… maybe this one isn’t the one to try out the new style of flesh thing. Maybe we shouldn’t change perfection, you know what I’m saying?”

“We’ve eaten rotten flesh, I think we’ll be immune to whatever they might have.” Tubbo responded, rolling his eyes. “Don’t forget that those Dome People killed you in cold blood.”

“Aren’t we doing the same thing?” He asked, as the other two’s faces filled with irritation, getting annoyed.

“We’re surviving, Krinios. If you haven’t noticed because of our ‘reputation’ on this server I haven’t eaten in days. I’m hungry.” Hycei said coldly. “Now isn’t the time to be taking the moral high road - do you want to not starve to death?!”

As Krinios hesitated, Tubbo shoved him aside as he approached. “We don’t have time for this.” He huffed, pulling your arm roughly and looking to Hycei. “Hold ‘em still.” You became hysterical, tears flowing freely down your face in panic and wanting to be as far away from that sharp object as possible. As it pressed down and began to cut you let out a shriek in agony as blood and pain overwhelmed your senses, and you bit down on Hycei’s hand, making them retract it and nearly drop you in the process.

He looked pissed. “Why you little-!” Within seconds, pain once again blossomed in your head, your vision swimming with tears. You wanted Dad, you wanted Tom-Tom, you wanted the pain to go away… Whimpering in pain, you curled in on yourself. Your prayers seemed to be quickly answered as the door burst open with two very ticked-off family members you recognized instantly. Wilbur pointed his gun directly at Tubbo’s head as the room began to build with tension, the two leaders just staring at each other.

“Wilbur.” Tubbo said cooly, putting his bloodied knife back in its sheath.

“Tubbo.” Wilbur growled through his teeth. “Where are they? Where’s Dirt?!”

“Oh, is that what you decided to call them?” Tubbo asked, crossing his arms. “Or did your Dome God decide on it?”

“You’ve crossed the fucking line, Tubbo.” Tommy growled, his ax at the ready. “Dirt didn’t do jack shit to you.”

“Oh, I disagree.” Tubbo spat. “Being a part of your sick cult is enough for me. Even so, you can’t blame a leader trying to feed his people, can you? That’s all this is - survival of the fittest. Getting revenge on both of you, well… that’s just a bonus.”

“You’re a sick freak.”

“You’re a scamming cultist.” Tubbo retorted, moving to take you from Hycei’s arms. “Question is, who’s worse?”

“Wa-Ba…” You sniffled as Wilbur moved closer, before Tubbo quickly pressed his knife up against your throat.

“Not another step.” Seeing this, Tubbo pointed his gun at Tubbo’s head, though the cannibal leader seemed unphased. “Kill me and I’ll kill them as soon as the bullet leaves the muzzle.”

“Bulllshit.” Tommy angrily shouted, moving forward next to Wil.

“Do you really want to take that risk?”

Wilbur breathed as his mind whirred to try to think of some kind of solution, his gun trained on Tubbo. “Tommy, get ready.”

“What’s it gonna be, Wilbur Soot?”

Quickly, he shot Tubbo in the leg, making him fall and lose his grip on you as Tommy rushed forward, snatching you up and kicking Tubbo in the face as he tried to grab you back. Hycei, on the other hand, rushed toward Wilbur, as the two fought and eventually Wilbur shot him in the arm, then quickly turned to train his gun at Krinios who held up his hands in surrender. When Tommy saw your injuries it broke his heart as he ripped off a bit of cloth and wrapped it around your arm wound temporarily, wrapping your body in warm blankets. He dried your tears as he rushed back towards Wilbur. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

“You got what you wanted, just leave.” Krinios begged as Wilbur’s gun stayed trained on him. Wilbur, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him, handed the gun to Tommy as Tommy handed you off to your Dad, who carefully ran his hand through your hair, bringing you close and not planning on letting you out of his arms any time soon.

“You scared me, oh god I thought I lost you…” Wilbur whispered. “It’s okay, it’s all okay now, I’m right here, I’m right here. Shh…” Your hands gripped his shirt and you buried your face in it, feeling comforted by his familiar scent of pine and burnt oak. Your body shook with fear as Wilbur ran his hand along your back in comfort as he turned toward the door. His gentle voice turned cold as he looked toward Tommy, his gun still trained on Krinios. Anger and sadness overwhelmed his heart as he looked upon the one who took you away from him, who tried to take you to your death. Vengeance never tasted so sweet. “Kill him.”

Krinios’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait wait let’s talk about this-!”

Tommy didn’t hesitate as Krinios’s body slumped to the floor as the two made their way back toward the entrance of Fort Kickass. Tubbo sat against the wall, breathing heavily from the pain, glaring at both of them. “This isn’t over.”

“You said you wanted to feed your people, I believe I just provided you with food.” Wilbur shot behind him as he walked toward the entrance. “As for Dirt, if you so much as lay a finger on them I won’t hesitate to take all of you out for good. I wonder who will revive you then.” His eyes glanced over the cannibal leader, making sure Tubbo knew he wasn’t bluffing. “Goodbye, Tubbo.”

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writtenbyvenus · 4 years

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What We Do In The Shadows

Chapter 3: I Love You, I Love You Not

Werewolves and vampires: two species that are mortal enemies. But in a small town in Upstate New York, they seemed to find a way to co-exist by staying out of each other's way and minding one's business. However, the dynamics of the local pack of werewolves and coven of vampires would change when a certain pair got too close for comfort. Alfred is an over seventy-year old werewolf posing as local law enforcement, while Ivan is a centuries old vampire working at a blood bank. Both try to get through the struggles of being immortal creatures, who find themselves in a cultural and family struggle when they fall for each other. Between an anti-vampire pack leader, suspicious in-laws, and a death that could nearly tear two families apart, the pair questions if a relationship is a reality, or if they carry too much baggage.

( Warning, this is in RP format, but has been edited and proof read for grammar/flow. A change between writers and/or perspective with both characters is symbolized by a bold first letter. )

‘The life of an immortal is lonely, you suffer as the entire world changes while you stay stagnate. Unable to do the most natural thing all humans do: change.’

But Alfred didn’t want to suffer anymore.

Perhaps he would branch out. He didn’t want to have one night stands forever, it hurt his soul to say goodbye to someone he could see spending an eternity with. And the man was too scared to turn someone into a wolf, he felt like it was a curse he couldn’t bear turning someone he loved into it. It weighed too heavy, that choice. Sighing, he kept his eyes closed, enjoying every touch offered by Ivan. The man was right, he was cocky and proud. Even if he partly hated being a werewolf, there was still a piece of pride in it. He thought it was semi-cute that Ivan offered to lick up his wounds, but he was unsure if he’d take Ivan up on that offer. While adorable, weirdly, seemed too risky. What if he couldn’t control himself? Then he’d have to fight Ivan and was the last thing on his mind. He chuckled hearing how Ivan got his meals, it was just funny. But he was happy the man found a non-lethal way to get his blood. He would rather have him steal people’s blood and keep them alive. Humming, he grinned when he got a kiss on his forehead. Was he winning him over? “Okay. I’ll come over. Next time you work, I’ll be there. Better have snacks for me.” He teased, nuzzling his cheek into his lap again. “If you are bloodthirsty, we could hunt right now....” Alfred offered, but understanding if he said no.

Ivan was a reclusive individual so there wasn't much he had to cope with when he was forced to keep out of the sunshine or risk burning his skin. There wasn't much sun to fight against where he first turned anyway. Even New York was a frosty, shady place that kept him frozen. He could feel the chill, the heat. It was almost painful. With Alfred curled up on his lap, he was warmed up thoroughly. He just wished to keep the puppy for a moment longer, scratch his head, and squeeze him tight. With the number of nights he's seen the man stay out, he didn't dare pursue him. He didn't enjoy awkward moments between his neighbors if there was a miscommunication on their relationship. Over the hundreds of years, he had plenty of money to help him sit pretty so he could jump up and leave at any time. Bad endings hardly were ever a reason to flee, but after all the information he just admitted to Alfred. There may be a problem. As he sits and plays with Alfred's hair, he'd take the moment for what it was and love on his neighbor. Friendly, but not too friendly. "You asked me- no, you begged me to come over and watch a show with you and your eyes have been more closed than open the entire time I'm here." Teasing the other and his persistence, he carefully wedged Alfred up from his lap for a moment to readjust his legs. The blood in his body wasn't his own. It was a liquid patchwork gushing through his body and cutting off at his legs. Even the wolf's cute puppy eyes couldn't take away the uncomfortable amount of weight on his thighs.

He mentally rejoiced when he heard Alfred finally accept his offer. His fangs prodded and extended out of his gums just thinking about the blood slithering through the tube and out of Alfred's arm. He pulled a hand quickly over his mouth as he tried to calm his appetite. He was giddy over a simple dribble, it was near lustful and he despised the feeling because it distracted him when he was out in public. A small whiff of blood would send him prowling around someone like they were just prey to him. It was instinctive and it infected his code, but he's trained himself to control it significantly better. Living, breathing people, that's what he's killed and it hung over his head. Most of the people he stalked down, he had no idea if they were innocent or immoral. He tried not to mull over it too heavily. Thankful he had a new outlet to take the burden off his shoulders. Given the opportunity to turn back to the meat of it all and nestle his teeth onto some rapist's neck, he might have to give in and spend time with Alfred. It certainly sounded fun to him at the very least. "That depends on what you mean by hunting... You don't-" Letting go of his now presentable mouth, Ivan gestured, with his hands, a set of teeth opening and closing. "eat humans, right?" He questioned because deer blood was downright nasty to him. If prepared right, it was tolerable. "I always thought werewolves ate small animals."

Alfred snickered when he was made fun of for closing his eyes. It was easy to do it around Ivan, his soothing voice made him relaxed. No need to stare at the T.V. when Ivan was the entertainment he needed. Getting pushed off Ivan’s legs, he sat up lazily, missing his body. Sitting up straight, he let the man adjust his legs as he wondered how Ivan would feel on his lap.... His thighs were squishy, did the back feel the same way? Dirty thoughts, but he was only an animal inside. Humming, he saw in the corner of his eyes how excited Ivan got. Wow- so the man did want his blood? He wasn’t sure if it was a turn on or off, either way, it interested him. Ivan could get a small taste if it meant if he’d get more hang out time with Ivan. He was a tad bit mean, so he might only give Ivan a small thing of blood. Use the rest as bribery. With a thirsty vampire-like Ivan, he could probably convince the man to do a few things. “Yeah, I’ll stop by. If I’ll donate blood, we’ll see. Depends on my mood.” He teased, not letting Ivan know if he’d really hand over his arm and let him be drained. Teasing was all in good fun, wasn’t it? Raising a brow, Alfred shook his head at the question of eating humans. “Nope, only animals. Do... vampires, do you guys like animal blood? Can y’all live off of it?” He asked, wondering if it was similar to Twilight. Vegetarian vampires were an interesting concept.

Missing the contact he had with Ivan, he decided to be bold. Being bold was the only thing he could do now. He liked Ivan, and they were getting closer. Wanting to let the man know he liked the vampire, he decided to tease back about his first comment. “You know, you are right. We should pay more attention to the T.V....” Grabbing Ivan’s waist, he brought the man down with him as he laid back. It caused Ivan to lay across his chest. Holding the man tight, he enjoyed locking Ivan in his arms, keeping his head on top of his chest. Kissing the top of his forehead, he faced the T.V. His fingers played with the vampire's hair, taking pleasure how soft it felt in his fingertips. Ivan felt softer than he thought... he always imagined vampires were rock hard, tense, and dead. But Ivan was still alive, in some weird way. Just like him...

Ivan's excitement faded at the change of heart. It would require more reeling in before he could get what he wanted from Alfred. Two cups are all he could wish for and just a little bit of the man's time. Letting the talk of donating go, he shrugged his shoulders. The blood type wasn't hard to acquire, one in three people had O-positive so he wasn't going to jump on Alfred about it. Even if it was Alfred's blood. Something about the fact made it ten times more unattainable and sought after to him. He drummed his fingers across the couch when the other voice piped up. There were dozens of animals he hasn't sampled yet, so he couldn't judge the palette completely, but by the number of deer and bears he has tried, he found that animal blood wasn't for him. His body rejected it and wouldn't cooperate with it as if he was only designed to cater to his own lost species. He envied Alfred and his ability to not cannibalize the people around him, werewolves didn't have the problem of accidentally eyeing down someone too long to the point where they're uncomfortable. "Technically... yes. I can survive off animal blood, but it's grainy and almost stale- it makes me sick." He explained, distracting himself with the television

There wasn't much between him and ending Alfred with his big sweet smiling eyes when he was cradled down into his arms. At first, he considered snapping at the abrupt and out of line action, but he wasn't hurt by it so he didn't see the use in upsetting Alfred. Allowing himself the luxury, he rested his head against the chest and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair once more. Doing his best to ignore the flashing intimacy on the screen, he closed his eyes. "You're coming on a little strong, Alfred." Tugging slightly at the strands between his fingers as a warning, he turned his nose away from the awaiting pulses he could hear in the werewolf's neck. He couldn't tell if Alfred was ignorant or if he was asking for trouble. Steadying his heart, his thumbs brushed along the American's eyebrows. With a near millennium of experience under his belt, he didn't hold back his tongue when he was uncomfortable. Passionate moments were even more difficult to have him swooning over, but he still had fun playing with someone. He's learned his lesson in giving cold rejections. However, he was pleased to feel warm hands wrapped around him and a burning chest against his cheek. Alfred was someone he wanted to trust, someone he didn't want to bite, but still someone he wanted to taste. "Do you get this close to every vampire you meet?... I might have to keep my family away from you if that's the case." Poking fun, he relaxed and smiled at the strokes to his head while giving his share back to Alfred's. "Do you have family or friends other than Allen?"

Alfred was blessed that Ivan didn’t react negatively. Instead of biting or pulling away, Ivan laid on his chest. The wolf was a cuddly man, he adored nothing more than to snuggle up close to someone. Wrap his arms and legs around them, nuzzle his face into their neck, and fall asleep. His hot body always kept someone warm. And with Ivan’s colder temperature, it was a great balance. Closing his eyes too, he smiled when his eyebrows and hair were played with. He knew he was coming off strong, but he was an alpha puppy at heart. He knew what he wanted, and would put effort into getting it. Ivan was the untouchable prize; he’d fight for it. “Mm.... No, I don’t. Don’t sweat it, I won’t try to talk to your sisters. I only got room for one vampire right now.” He teased, meaning it. One of his hands went to Ivan’s lower back, stroking it back and forth. He attempted to be relaxing and soothing, letting the man untangle in his arms. He didn’t want Ivan to tense up and panic, that was the last thing. The more at peace Ivan was, the better. He wanted to see if he could convince the vampire to a sleepover. He wasn’t asking for sex, just a night of cuddling and watching T.V., but he’d have to find a way to propose this to Ivan without coming off as a slime ball. He just wanted to cuddle.... sure, if more happened, he wouldn’t complain, but he wasn’t going to try anything. Simple cuddling under his handmade silver fox blanket. Resting his chin on Ivan’s head, he started to think about his pack members. “My parents are dead, my brother is alive though. And so are his wife and kids. I only talk to my brother, his wife and kids think I died a long time ago. He’s the only person who knows the truth. I follow his kids on Instagram and stuff to keep up with them since they are my nieces and nephews... But I stay at a distance. It sucks, but it has to be like that...”

Ivan wouldn’t be able to see the hurt in his eyes, but he’d be able to hear it in his voice. It hurt Alfred not to be involved with his own family. He wanted to be the uncle everyone loved, that came around and spent time with the kids. Took them out for trips, shopping, helped them with homework, and gave life advice. In all honesty, he wanted that life for himself with his own children, but that would never happen. It was all taken away. That was the curse of immortality in Alfred’s eyes, the purpose of life was to create more, and he couldn’t. Alfred would always be... idling in life, never getting old but never growing, always at a plato. “My pack members... There’s a lot of them. They are all guys, for some reason I swear other werewolves only want to scratch dudes. Or maybe girls are immune to it... I’ve heard some werewolves say that most females are- but anyway. There’s a lot of us, but I would rather not say the names. It’s their secret, not my right to share it. I shouldn’t have mentioned Allen’s name anyway.” He didn’t feel comfortable naming all his pack members. Privacy and their oath to it was an important virtue in their culture, and he wouldn’t risk it to swoon over an alluring vampire. Only if they got really closer. “I already know who’s a vampire in this town. I can smell them. So you don’t have to tell me about your vampire sisters. I know. It’s just something us dogs can sniff out.” He joked, kissing Ivan’s forehead softly again.

Letting out a sigh, Alfred reviewed the interactions between him and Ivan in the past hour. The fact that the pair went from making slight threats to each other to now getting cozy on his sofa was a mixture of odd and not. The past two months of bonding doing chores grew a feeling of attraction, plus a yearning for trust. The pair wanted to get close, but fears of each other's powers and species kept them from opening up. Then again, Alfred is the type to move relationships and intimacy fast, it was usual for him. However, his vampire crush appeared to be more cautious and closed off; so he questioned Ivan’s acceptance of the change in their dynamic. “So, how did we go from not mentioning that we are immortals, to cuddling on my couch? Not complaining, by the way…” he asked, his voice calm but friendly.

Ivan snorted, agreeing with the oddness of the situation. He stayed quiet for a moment as he contemplated his behavior. Living so many lifetimes, he became used to the usual formula of getting close to someone. However, those were nearly all humans. Finding a fellow immortal that he found attractive and worthwhile to keep around made him want to cling and never let go. Jumping with both feet, as one would say. The reality that he could be making a mistake did stay in the back of his mind, but he wanted to keep it there. “I believe… us both opening up helped… You answered many questions I have been thinking about since we first met, and I could probably say the same for you…” He took a deep breath, one that matched Alfred’s. The relaxation from Alfred’s touches was foreign, it has had been a while since someone’s fingers had such an effect on him. “I’ve been attracted to you since I met you…”

Ivan never considered being close with someone a part feral dog. With his hands still cradling Alfred's head, it was uncouth behavior for himself. There was no result he had to lead the werewolf into a state of vulnerability and break that trust. It was never as if he pulled that trick often, but he could already feel the relationship ending terribly. So far, Alfred had been good to him and he wanted to keep that light in the puppy's heart. He figured that Alfred had a few years to explore his identity and form bonds with others of his kind, but something about locking Alfred down didn't feel humane to him. With every inch of Alfred's personality, he could read it. While there would be some tug and pull over whether he was right, he knew that Alfred didn't know what he wanted. The man was alone and deeply aching and he smelt it.

Seeing as Alfred was desperate for comfort and affection, he'd be softer on him. There wouldn't be any nail digging when he deemed a reach to be lower than standard. Instead, he patted the dirty blond hair and stretched out one of his legs to situate the hand higher up on his back. Their hips weren't overlapping so could relax without any potentially fatal movements when he got comfortable. Alfred wasn't much of his to hold onto, but those sorts of displays of affection restricted to particular facets of platonic and romantic love weren't his to decide. He was having a pleasant time, so he'd worry about his real emotions later. As for the moment, he was more concerned with Alfred's own feelings in his unsteady words. Attempting some consolation, he straightened up the head of hair in slow-paced layers. "Not everyone can be as lucky as me, but I understand and I really do hate how pitiful you sound over it-... Watching someone you love to grow old without you is hurtful, isn't it?" He sympathized, plenty of the same scenarios rattled off from family friends and even lovers.

After mindlessly opening his eyes to watch the show and rub more gentle touches through the stiff strands, he decided to ask. "Have you turned anyone into a werewolf?... I bet you never even attacked anyone, have you? You don't have the heart for it." He wasn't mocking or teasing Alfred about his tenderness veiled by aggressive bluffs; it was something he admired. Something about werewolves always led them to be huffy or extremely playful and friendly. The fact that struck him interesting was the exclusion of females. Now that he considered it, he didn't encounter very many female werewolves. Vampires were more diverse, a blended mix of all demographics. They were a hidden subhuman society of subhuman that bred and carried on wreaking havoc across the globe. He, in particular, wasn't knit in with community life. His friends were few and far between. It had been a few years since he's spoken to his old close friend, the distance made it hard to keep in contact and it didn't help that he had a falling out with the now German vampire. Gilbert was one of the first vampires he met; he could never forget the distinctive odor the pale man carried, pungent. Alfred's fluffy puppy smell was much more pleasant, the blood perfumed, and blended with the werewolf olfactory calling card. He could nuzzle even closer to Alfred and take in more of it, but rushing that along wasn't a priority of his. "Do all werewolf names start with Al?... It might explain the lack of women if you ask me." Joking along, Ivan sat up and settled back into his seat. Taking Alfred's feet into his lap, he began running the tips of his fingers up the soles. "You seem tired. Maybe you should turn this off and lay down?"

Alfred didn’t want to spend to much time on the topic of romance and mortality. Staying young as the other grew old, it was a painful reminder that he was different. Unchanging, forever, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. There was no cute to this curse, and Alfred was stuck being like this until the day someone buried his body. Keeping his eyes closed, he relished in each touch and careful act by the man. Ivan displayed a human side to him, one that was gentle and loving. Alfred took interest in that, locking it away in his brain and saving it for a time to give back to Ivan. Hearing the man bring up the painful topic of mortality, he nodded as he squeezed him tighter. “Yeah... It is.” He said, his voice low, lacking the usual gusto and life. Someone had sucked the joy out of it. Gulping, he squeezed Ivan again as his fingers rubbed circles on his back. Slow, gentle circles, his way of being non threatening and relaxing to his vampy crush. He mocked the loving behavior Ivan displayed when he got his hair pulled, showing that he did care about Ivan’s comfort. “No... I never have. Never will. I don’t want to give anyone the power of immortality, good person or not. I think someone might abuse it. And I don’t want to be that cause...” he confessed, sighing as he thought about the men who he'd killed. Many weren’t men who deserved to be alive, let alone given the chance of immortality. The chance of harming people, and getting away with it! They didn’t deserve that pleasure, and Alfred would never be responsible for it. He’d never bite or scratch a man who he did not want to kill. End of story. He didn’t play games, if he attacked a human, it was a good reason. He saved his human-hunting for the vilest of men, and those shouldn’t get the opportunity to have more victims.

He’d come to whine when Ivan pulled away and sat up. He found pleasure in having the vampire lay down on him. He was even getting used to the smell. He was quite smart with how they cuddled, letting his neck and shoulders rub all over it. That was the point, as his main scenting glands were there. The more he rubbed on Ivan from those spots; the harder and harder his scent was to remove. He did want Ivan reeking like a werewolf covered vampire all day? Yes. That’s how people would know to stay back, that’s Alfred’s. Due to being ticklish, he pulled his feet out of Ivan’s lap. He opened his arms, stretching them out as he cracked his back. “Yeah... I should lay down. You’ll stay over the night... right? My room is always really hot, and you cool me down. It’s super comfortable... Please?” Alfred asked, in the most begging, sugary sweet voice. His eyes even matched, begging with his voice. He sat up, his face going near Ivan’s own, working a pout. He wanted a cuddle buddy, the puppy was lonely and needy. And the vampire’s squishy, but cold body, was the perfect match for the needy, but a burning werewolf. Alfred was going to be good of course, keep his hands in the right place. No touching anything below the belt; only back rubs and cheek kisses.

The welcoming tightness was given a few tender scratches back to the blond locks. Ivan could sense the troubled and uneasy flex to Alfred's tongue. Something about the werewolf made him less pressured around him, he could rip himself away if he had to. The chipper American seemed to be a more even match, but he was sure if something terrible were to happen, he could slip off without a chunk of wood in his heart. He didn't want to square off with his close friend and end up hurt. If Alfred was specist and wanted to kill a vampire for sport, he knew that he would have been long snapped at and buried by now. There was no reason for him to feel unsound- he wasn't, but he didn't wish Alfred to see his serenity. Being hooked on a werewolf-like Alfred was a stab to his own ego. Ivan had time to sleep around, touch on a few mortals and immortals. Yet, he didn't seek out a good time like Alfred. It wasn't as if he was shallow or hardheaded, he just didn't find satisfaction in giving someone what they wanted so easily. He liked shows, he enjoyed watching Alfred bend over backward, but he knew it wasn't a one-sided attention endeavor. A whining pup wasn't a happy one; he liked earning a smile and getting to smile. He adored being touched, but he was sure that the pleasure was universal. With how open and clingy Alfred laid himself out to be, he assumed the feeling was nothing but mutual. He planned to pull and smooch on Alfred until his fur even had bruise marks where his lips have been.

His mouth sneered as he regretted pulling away so soon. He didn't even have Alfred's warm feet in his lap to keep him company. Hearing that he could stay for the night, he practically got scratched by a werewolf himself and grew a wagging tail. It didn't show significantly on his calm appearance that he was doing small cheers in his mind, but it was clear that he was content with the question. The begging and desperate pouts did have a way of convincing him and putting a faint smile on his face after all. Watching the American stretch, he rubbed a thumb to his chin and leaned back into the couch. "You want me to sleep in your bed?... Aren't you a little too old for sleepovers?" Fond of having someone to tease, he closed his eyes. Alfred was special to him, an experiment of sorts, a wandering curiosity that he could have fulfilled, but mostly a fuzzy sweet boy he found warm inside and out. If he was able to wrap himself around him without ending up a walking werewolf cologne bottle, he would. Cracking open his eyes, he gradually sat up from his spot. A few lingering puppy rubs to his skin would be alright with him. He closed the gap between him and Alfred, ghosting his lips over the other pair. "You're really lucky that you're so cute... I guess the puppy dog eyes are just a bonus feature that makes you harder to crush." Pulling away, he stood up from the couch and dragged Alfred up by his wrists along with him. Knowing the same layout of his apartment, he walked with Alfred over to his room. "Maybe you can go ahead and take off your clothes so I can see if you were bluffing?... I don't believe that you can change into a wolf at will." He just wanted an excuse to watch Alfred strip and blush before him. It was a pleasant atmosphere, but he wasn't surprised to note the pelts scattered across a werewolf's bed.

Alfred could feel his face getting red once Ivan closed in the space between their faces and agreed to spend the night. Pleased to see that his begging worked, he smirked, still rocking a cocky grin with red cheeks. Standing up with Ivan, he let the man lead him, even if it was his own house. “So you are finally admitting that I’m cute? Thank god, you have standards.” He teased, taking the chance to check out Ivan from behind. He seemed to check the boxes in Alfred’s departments of what he looked for in a man. Even if Ivan was a vampire, he could see himself spending a long period with the man. He just has to get over the smell... But he was already starting to forget about it. Once in the room, Alfred went with Ivan’s request to see him take off his clothes. He wasn’t shy, not at all. “I usually sleep naked, but since I have company, I’ll keep on my boxers.” He commented, throwing his shirt on the floor and kicking off his sweatpants. Mostly muscular, with a slight sun-kissed tan, his body had a few scar marks, the most noticeable over his heart. A deep slash was there, a symbol of what made him turn every full moon. To anyone who asked, Alfred made up some story about being attacked by a bear one-night hunting, and that wasn’t far from the truth. He was attacked by something, just a creature more dangerous and horrible than an average bear.

Hoping into the bed, he half covered himself with the silver fox blanket, letting his chest be exposed. Tapping the area next to him, he attempted to convince Ivan to get undressed. “Since I’m only in my underwear, don’t you think it’s only fair for you to be too? Don’t worry, I’m not a creep. I won’t grope you.” He teased, taking the remote and turning on the T.V., he let The Office playing in the background, thinking the comedy would be good background noise to let Ivan relax. Then he could put on something more romantic, put on a classic, something sexy but still, heartfelt. Alfred wasn’t fully a creep, he did and would respect Ivan’s boundaries. He was mainly looking for someone to cuddle and nuzzle against during the night. Only cuddles, rubs, and if he’s lucky, a few smooches.

"I should start calling you Narcissus because I've never seen such a short little man have so much ego." Ivan wasn't blind, he knew Alfred had some height, but he couldn't let people shorter than he forget about their sheer petiteness. A wicked grin jumped to his face when he caught Alfred with a red tint. There was no doubt in his mind that werewolves had the same blood that they were born with, but he wasn't positive if Alfred could show surprise. Catching someone blush was always gratifying; he found that it beat having to watch someone be sucked of any color.

In many ways, Alfred fits his outer crust. With the attention to the physique, he saw that the man truly cared about himself. His measly golf tee sized scars on his neck, they fell in comparison to the gash across Alfred's chest. Between puncture wounds with a burning aftertaste and a deep tissue scratch, he wasn't entirely sure which one he'd rather have to endure. That hadn't been his decision and it was a complaint, but he was used to his powers by now. Laughing at Alfred for neglecting the whole point of wanting him to strip, he pushed off his loafers. "Do you have short term memory loss or did you just stop listening to me when I told you to take off your clothes?" He ignored the request to follow in the other's footsteps and simply observed how Alfred prepared to lay down. It disappointed him when he didn't get to see Alfred pace around in circles and flop down. From the way it was described to him, he shouldn't worry too much if he spots a wolf walking around the apartment complex. It was simply Alfred, but a puppy edition. "Oh? Or is it that you were just talking earlier? You really can't change at will... too proud to take back what you said, I see." Slipping into bed away from Alfred, he shot a disturbing glare to the flashing television. There was a reason why bats were heavily associated with his kind. Dark, cold, and even damp environments were the most familiar ways for him to sleep. Sometimes he'd hang upside down if he felt so inclined. He wondered if Alfred curled up into a little compact ball and twitched when he had nightmares. Smiling upon the mangy yapper, he slipped his fingers behind Alfred's ear and gently scratched at the patch of skin and hair.

He eventually gave in to what was comfortable and unbuckled himself before shrugging off his pants beneath the covers. Sleeping with furs wasn't entirely foreign to him, but he forgot how outrageously warm they made him. He noticed that even Alfred wouldn't completely wrap himself up in the pelt. Tossing his turtleneck down along with his pants to the floor in a pile, he shuffled a short centimeter toward the blond. "Just so you know, I'm not asking for you to grope me." Warning the other, he stretched out his legs and adjusted his pillow. His fingers found the fur between them, pinching and petting the lifeless edges. He wasn't the biggest fan of hunting for sport, but he figured that it wasn't much sport to an animal and in a way, Alfred was an abounding pup. First keeping his distance for a moment, he ultimately moved closer to Alfred and squeezed his frame into his hold. "Ah... we forgot our clothes downstairs. Should we go get them before we become too comfortable?" He reminded and questioned himself even if he had no intent on leaving Alfred's side.

“Hey, I’m not short. You are just... freakishly tall!” He joked, not taking offense to his humor. Even though he was five-eleven himself, standing next to Ivan did make him seem smaller than he was. Seeing Ivan lose some clothes as well kept the grin on his face. He didn’t think vampires could be so... sexy, and his over sugar smell was starting to turn good. He couldn’t describe how, but Ivan went from smelling like burnt, over-processed sugar, to honey and flowers. Perhaps it was all in Alfred’s head, his crush on Ivan made his senses turn something gross into something good. Or maybe, due to him being a vampire, he subconsciously thought they all smelled bad, even if they didn’t. Whatever reason, he became more comfortable breathing through his nose around Ivan, as his scent didn’t bother him. He wished he could lean in to sniff him more, a wolf habit he had gained. He laughed again about the comment with his clothes, as he had no modesty, and he’d strip nude if asked. “I mean... I can take off the underwear if you want. I don’t mind being naked. But you gotta get naked too, only fair...” He teased, grabbing Ivan’s thigh and wrapping it around his waist. His hands stroked the man’s thigh, taking advantage of the free skin. It was cold, but soft at the same time. He imagined vampires being cold and hard, but Ivan wasn’t. He was squishy, had fat on his body. He did squeeze the thigh a few times, his hands enjoying the sensation of cold, yet soft. With Alfred’s body temperature being a few degrees hotter than the average human, cooler temperatures were soothing. Ivan’s body was like a nice fan on a hot summer day, cooling down the burning hot man.

“You being cold feels pretty nice…” He yawned, his face going into Ivan’s neck. While he wanted to kiss it, he kept to his promise and only nuzzled it. He purred when Ivan scratched his head, pleading with the sensations. “I can change on will, I just rather do it another time. Don’t want to scare you... and if the T.V. is bothering you, I can turn it off.” He mentioned, noticing how Ivan gave the light a dirty look. He pulled Ivan a tad bit closer, loving the cold Ivan provided. “Just forget about it, I’ll get them in the morning. This bed and you are comfortable... I’m not letting go anytime soon...” He said, giving in and placing one single peck on Ivan’s cheek. Only one, and then he returned to nuzzling his neck. The puppy was needy for the affection of any kind. Sweet words, rubs, kisses, his hands kept stroking back and forth on Ivan’s thigh. It wrapped around his waist made him more comfortable and feel safe. Having someone around you was the best way to sleep in Alfred’s eyes. Especially if the said person checked every box in appearances, and was starting to in personality. He was funny, flirtatious, but still held his ground. Alfred pulled towards strong personalities, it was who he was. So it was what he wanted.

The heat produced by Alfred drew Ivan in. He felt as if he was already holding onto some sort of animal, the fur blanket creating the illusion. It was like he was wrapped up in a fresh clean blanket from the dryer. Not as harsh as the sun that cooked into him, but the pleasant warmth of a cat curled up on his stomach. It made it difficult for him to keep his distance and his hands to himself. Assuming the rule would be the same for Alfred, he would respect the other body just as much as he wanted to be left without groping. Even if he wanted to run a finger over Alfred's scar and squeeze at his chest, he wouldn't go that far. He had to play it smart, he didn't want to give Alfred the wrong idea. The smell didn't have to emit off of the werewolf for him to understand that he wasn't his to keep. It wasn't clear to him whether his neighbor was taken or was someone who didn't like to be tied down to someone else. Either way, he knew better than to give in to his own desires and royally destroy the pleasant conversations he had with Alfred. To keep up the act and hold himself captive in the relationship he already had with the American, he didn't let his thumb linger too long over the smirking lips on Alfred's face. His eyes rolled at the comment, still not entirely sure if he was being teased. "I'd like it much more if you kept your boxers on... It will take a pint or more for you to convince me to lay naked with you." It was part joke and part genuine offer. A few times over, he has led bothersome individuals to an old cheap hotel room and bit into them. It wasn't his proudest way of maintaining himself, but it wasn't the bitterest thing he's gone through with. He was just happy to have some leverage on his kill count these days. In truth, he might have turned Alfred into a meal if he wasn't a hunting machine. If the man had been more of an intolerable creep, he would have considered it, but Alfred was sweet. It would be a tragedy for him to kill someone so beautiful.

"For someone who promises not to touch me too heavily... you're sure grabbing me a lot." He teased, not entirely upset. There were parts of him that still craved to be held, but he knew not to beg Alfred about it because the answer wouldn't be no. He adored Alfred, he wanted to play with his hair and kiss love into his ear, but he was patient. His rubs to Alfred's locks and down behind his neck were slow, dragging. "You don't have to sleep with it on, do you? I can just go back to my own bed and lay down instead. It's okay." He assured, avoiding the flash of the screen by taking his hand off of Alfred and shielding his eyes. "And- for your information, I've seen werewolves before. I'm not scared of them." Laughing, his fangs slipped down as he flashed his own grin at Alfred. "They should be scared of me." Referencing the conversation they had earlier, he nudged his forehead against Alfred's and gently grabbed at his side, bringing the body closer. Drawing his teeth up, he gave the small kiss back into his cheek. "Not you though, you shouldn't be scared of me... you're too much of a good puppy for me to hurt." He hummed, going back to pet at Alfred's hair. Everything about the werewolf was peculiar, he didn't understand his attraction to him, but it broke his heart to even consider hurting him. He wanted to keep Alfred safe.

Alfred took the remote and turned off the T.V., as he didn’t want any reason for the vampire to go up and leave. If that meant the room as to be dark and quiet, so be it. He opened his eyes and laughed when Ivan showed off his fangs, only going to squeeze his upper thigh. “You’re cute, even when you try to be scary...” More focusing on Ivan’s body and presence. Alfred took the chance and started to rub his neck on Ivan’s face, spreading his scent on the man. His hands and wrist were already doing work on Ivan’s legs currently. Scent marking was a big thing with werewolf’s, it was a great way to tell other wolves that someone was theirs and that they should stay away if they were smart. Werewolves in their human and wolf form had scent glands on their neck and wrist, as rubbing would brush their smell on the mate. It would only last a couple of days, but there was one way to make the scent-marking last weeks. Peeing or coming on a person, there was something about semen and urine that once on another person’s skin, would leave them smelling like the werewolf for weeks. Humans wouldn’t be able to detect it at all, their noses weren’t strong enough. But other werewolves would. All the werewolves would know not to touch Ivan, and to let him be. For now, he’d scent him more temporarily. He rubbed his neck on Ivan’s shoulder, his wrist going up to Ivan’s waist. Scenting his hips, he was happy with his work. He sniffed Ivan: Yup, he smelled like him! Grinning big and wide, he laid down with Ivan, placing the man’s head on his chest. Laying his head back in the pillow, he closed his eyes. “Wow. All I have to do is give blood for you to get naked for me? Noted... I’ll see you tomorrow then..” He teased, thinking that Ivan might be more willing to be playful back if he had an O-positive snack.

Feeling the cylinder of airways and muscle jump and bounce down his face, Ivan grunted. Heavy petting was generally fine with him, but having a neck smother his face was odd. He's seen and experienced some eccentric preferences, but being rubbed like that was new. It may have been that he read Alfred wrong and he wasn't some feverish little go-getter like he thought he was. Cuddling up with Alfred was a lot more unique and nearly awkward than he imagined. The idea of masking his own scent didn't even come to strike him, he just assumed that Alfred was unusual. He was at least grateful to be given peaceful darkness, bright lights irritated him to no end. His vision was catered to cutting through and seeing things when it was pitch black, but he could feel Alfred more than he could see him. He didn't fight back against the skin covering his body, instead, he leaned into the touches and soaked up the affection. His own fingers rubbed up and down Alfred's back and gingerly scratched at his chin. With his head pressed to the chest, he was tempted to lean in and kiss along the nasty gash across his heart. He knew it may be taken as a threat; if the was a faster way to suck someone dry than a neck, it would be the heart. It wouldn't take him but two seconds to kill Alfred off that way, but the werewolf would surely fight back. That's why necks were more optimal. They closed off the air supply. It took him a while to catch onto what Alfred was doing. The strange sniffing pointed in his direction being a key piece to bring the strange mannerisms together. "Who said I was yours to claim?" He would give the near slumbering pup a hard time about it because he had some fun hearing nervous excuses. There were enough werewolves in the area for him to awkwardly make eye contact with while the clingy mutt rubbed up on someone that was their lover. He even got growled at by some cretin for staring too long. It was hard not to stare at PDA when it was so obnoxious.

A glare burned into his closed eyes when he felt another teasing grab at his thigh laced with pleasing words. It was a guilty pleasure of his, to be fondled and groped, but he liked taking his time with Alfred for now. "You rub up on me as if you know me so well... and squeeze on me when I asked you not too." He hummed sarcastically, a faint smile leftover from Alfred's comment on donating. "That's fine." His lips guided themselves along the divide of the chest and up to Alfred's collarbone. Attempting to keep the werewolf calm and at peace, he continued to alternate between big and small circles being rubbed into his back. He was quite tired himself, his movements becoming slower as he put a kiss closer to Alfred's neck. The warmth was too soothing and beckoning. He wondered if Alfred was warmer as a sweet cuddly wolf. It was something he'd have to wait to pry out of his neighbor. A glimpse was all he asked for. Finally letting his arm lazily hook around Alfred's waist, he eventually joined him in slumber. He didn't move very much in his sleep, it was as if he was lifeless. It took a whole parade of a racket to stir him awake or else he would stay in a state of short hibernation and wake up a few days later. He was built to look and feel dead.

lfred knew that Ivan was going to give him a hard time about scent marking him, but Alfred just shrugged it off. “Mm... Me, that’s who...” He said in a tired voice. The man smelled like him, that was all that mattered. He smiled, snuggling up to him more when he was called a puppy. He was a puppy, indeed. He loved to cuddle, play fight, and scent whoever he adored. After scent-marking Ivan, perhaps in the morning he might pin Ivan down and play fight with him. It was fun to wrestle! To roll around in bedsheets, and see who was the strongest. He believed he could pin Ivan down easily and make him beg to be let go, and that it would be easily done. Then later they could cuddle, and Alfred could rub his scent glands on Ivan more. “My big alpha wolf inside of me sometimes is just a playful puppy. I think the same can be said about you... You seem like you can be somewhat innocent when you want to be...” He teased, giving a peck to Ivan’s forehead. “You smell good....” he said, yawning as he started to doze off.

His mind got hazy, especially with Ivan’s soothing rubbing. A lazy smile grew on Alfred’s face, wishing he could pinch Ivan to tease him for the backtalk. He knew not to take Ivan so seriously, as the man attempted to keep him calm and relaxed as well. He wasn’t pulling away or leaving the bed, so he mustn’t hate it that much. Whispering a few taunts back, he joined Ivan in falling fast asleep. Like Ivan, he was a deep sleeper too, who’s loud alarm was the only thing that would wake him up. With him always working the night shift, he usually slept all morning and into the afternoon. He did shift a couple of times but always seemed to pull Ivan close. He was a clingy sleeper, no matter what time it was, he’d find a way to touch whoever was cuddling him. There was one point at night where he had Ivan locked in his hold on top of him. But towards the morning, he was spooning Ivan, his arm and leg wrapped around him. His face in Ivan’s neck, he snoozed away, not wanting to wake up any time soon. He only got up sometime in the morning to pee, making an annoying sound as he pulled away from Ivan to use the toilet. Once he was finished, he flushed and returned to his warm bed and cold crush. He pulled Ivan close, laying on his back as he made Ivan lay on his chest. Enjoying the sensation of the Russian’s head on his chest, he let the man rest there, his hand stroking the leg wrapped around him. He felt safe like this, with someone wrapped around him. The cooling comfort of Ivan made it all worthwhile, and thoughts of donating some blood to see if his crush would loosen up a bit.

Ivan used to be a morning person, but his issues sleeping seemed to vanish once he was infected so he couldn't hate being a vampire if he could get his rest. Hardly did he toss and turn until his main source of warmth was stripped away from him. His fingers coiled and grabbed the sheets repetitively until he found Alfred again. He was in pure unbothered bliss. The only thing to take him away from his sinfully cozy spot around Alfred was the outrageously loud beeping of his phone. His eyes slowly drifted open as he assessed the situation. Jolting up from beneath the covers, he scrambled away from the heater of a body. If he lost his current job, he would lose his ability to provide for his sisters and himself. Unfortunately for him, blood banks opened early, but at least they were easy pickings. As cliche as it was, he used his time to gather a few degrees here and there. So, he was a certified nurse just so he could secure a position sticking a needle into some poor soul's arm. He adored his job and planned on keeping it. Getting to the floor, he searched his pants for his phone and quickly shut down his alarm. He religiously used multiple sounds to go off at once and he was, frankly, shocked to find his single alarm stirred him awake. Feeling bad for exposing Alfred to such a loud dominating ring, he dragged his pants over to the bed and tucked Alfred in. "I know it's loud, I'm sorry." His voice was low as he brushed a few complimentary strokes into the dirty blond hair. "I'm heading off to work, okay?... Will do me a big favor-" He sugarcoated his words, leaning closer to his face as he scratched behind Alfred's ear. "and bring my clothes up? You don't have to get up right now, but just make sure someone doesn't throw them away." It was something he was willing to do for a neighbor and he hoped Alfred wasn't too far gone to not be able to hear him. Shrugging on a pant leg, he put a kiss to each of Alfred's cheeks.

As he made his way towards the door, he pulled his pants over his hips and buttoned them up. He'd have to change into his scrubs once he made it back to his own apartment, but he wasn't going to risk walking out without any clothes on. At the doorway, he pulled his sweater over his head and turned to smile at Alfred. Out of habit, he chirped out what he usually left his sisters with. "I love you-" His mouth instantly snapped shut before quickly barking back open to try and correct himself. "No, I don't." Feeling as if he couldn't have said anything worse, he gave a simple wave to his crush. A mortified look staining his face as he stepped out of the room. A complete Freudian slip that had the potential to destroy his whole relationship with Alfred spat out of his mouth in one split second, of course, he was blushing with humiliation. He liked Alfred and he wanted to get closer to him, but he knew it was way too early to say anything close to I love you. It was too personal and he just said it out loud as if he was dating Alfred. He was burning again. Making it out of the apartment, he took a moment to hold his heart and get over himself. It wasn't long until he perked back up and hurried along to his own door to get ready with the awkward moment replaying in his head.

[ Link to Ao3, thank you if you read ! ]

#rusame #amerus #aph america #aph russia #fanfiction #werewolf america #vampire russia #hws america #hws russia #yeee have a good night

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cheesecaketyrant · 4 years

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Hello all! I would like to take the time to say; Thank you to: (Unfortunately I can't tag them! But they are known as shockwavefan and as well Soundwave - I'm not sure if I do have them on Tumbler or not!) @artsy-archangel @zen-drift! Y'all are amazing!

Now, I tried to clean it as best to my abilities in the form of RP format.

I did realize that for the cover is not quite accurate. But that's okay! (There were few mistakes in the last post; Shockwave was the one who killed Megatron, not Optimus Prime)

I'll be posting these as Chapters and Parts. Anywho I'm sure some of y'all been waiting for the next post- so.. here!

Oh boy, this starting to look quite interesting!

Chapter:1- All Hail Shockwave

(Part:1-2)

--------

Shockwave saw that his people were cheering, he looked at his experiment, no one could read Shockwaves mind. Not even those who have worked closely with him for years know. He walked down the steps, his metallic feet hitting the ground with each step.

After a few hours since he had left the stage, he was underground. Shockwave was once again his old self, the senator long ago was gone; the leader they know now is fake. He became leader as a way to have access to more tools. On the table lied a Cybertronian, a Decepticon, he screamed in agony but they never reached their destination. After enough energon had leaked the victim stopped screaming. Behind Shockwave were multiple dripping bodies of Decepticons hanging upside down. Shockwave, the terror which spread through the Autobot army was back, only he wasn't affiliated with anyone but logic.

--------

Today wasn't the best of all days as a sudden riot began however this wasn't the first that has happened. Prowl has come to an assumption that someone is starting the mods on purpose therefore he's been sending in the authorites to investigate. Later, situations got worse when Decepticons came Archangel's office reporting missing friends that haven't returned to their homes for awhile. He assured them he'll handle the investigation and they left in high hopes they'll have their friends back.

Archangel sighed as he laid back againts his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his optics. Everything seemed to be getting worse however some events were to be expected but not missing bots.

A knock on his door interrupted Archangel's thoughts. "Come in." He responded as he fixed his serious composer.

Prowl entered with a datapad in his servo. "My team has discovered the culprit behind the sudden riots." Prowl told him. "Ratbat has been planning a scheme however its unknown what his intentions are."

"Ratbat was a Decepticon..."

"Of course you would know that given your past. Was isn't the right word for it: he " is" a Decepticon. He's proven to still be loyal to the dead cause." Prowl interrupted him and handed Archangel the datapad. "While I deal with Ratbat, I need you to inform Shockwave about the energon supplies. We've been getting reports of cannibalism in the streets and the percentage of casualties is high."

Archangel straighten and his servo tightened against the datapad in reaction to what Prowl wanted him to do. Was he testing him again?

"I'll... Be sure he's aware of the problems." He said in a serious tone, hiding his sudden dread.

"Good. Send me a report when you are finish." Prowl said as he left.

Archangel slumped in his seat more and groaned from stress. "Primus give me strength." He whispered.

Through that whole conversation, Prowl didn't give Archangel a moment to speak. Yes he knew how much the mech disliked him but this was peculiar. Also asking him to deal with Shockwave was definitely really low since Prowl was aware of his past. He was planning something and Archangel wasn't sure he wanted to play his game.

-----------

Drift gazed at the datapad in his servo, optics ridges scrunched together in a frown as the latest census showed that instead of an increase in their clients in the housing, some area were showing a drop in numbers. Odd. He placed that datapad aside and pulled up the records for the previous counts. The decrease was there but very marginal. Enough to be explained away by miscount or simply some bots just up and leaving their designated housing, moving in with others or goodness knows what else. He had had to deal with a fair number of strange reasons that bots just didn't stay put. But this was beginning to look like a pattern or maybe his war-wired brain module was trying to put a more sinister twist to what could just be perfectly normal situation. Yet his tanks gave that curious twist that he always trust and he simple knew that something was up.

But who could he turn to? He could try his Senior Officer but he also didn't want to come across as being paranoid. Primus knew his religious habits already earned his strange looks despite most bots being really good natured about it, some even being interested. his old friends were...dispersed. At one time he felt he could trust Ratchet above all, but the mech had thrown in his lot and time with Shockwave now. And it made sense, The CMO was always aligned with a leader.

Drift rubbed his helf crest and stared at the numbers again. He didn't know anything beyond them and a tank feeling. It wasn't enough to go on. He needed to start doing some ground work. Subtly of course, since he didn't need to start a panic. He was no Jazz but he was a fairly decent interrogator. Maybe he could start with the Police Reports. See if there were any notices for missing bots and if those names matched the ones in his register.

He vented out and picked up the datapad again. He had really hoped things would be different this time around but it seemed that it wasn't going to happy crystals. A mech poked his head in. "Drift, we got another riot happening, this time a bit closer to the recent bot settlement. Some of them are demanding relocation. Boss wants you on it!" Drift nodded, out of his chair even before the mech finished speaking. "I got it," he said, shiting to bot mode and heading to the scene of the now dispersed riot. A tall blue Seeker frame caught his optic as he arrived. "Archangel?" he mouthed to himself but the Seeker was swallowed up by the crowd work and his duties and Drift had his own to attend to. He made a mental note to check and see if that was indeed the Seeker he knew. The frightened group of mech and femmes huddled together as he approached.

"Hello, my name is Drift. Im from the Immigration Center. I'm here to attend to your issues," he began giving them a smile. "We need to get away from this!" a femme blurted out in a high pitch whine of her vocalizer, "We didn't come back to be in more war!" Drift shifted to modulate his vocalizer to soothing but firm tone. "I understand that and unfortunately I cannot relocate you to another sector. However, lets go inside and I can let you know how to make this place a bit safer for all of you. The Police as you see also got this under control. Trust us to do our jobs. We will make this better." The group huffed but led the way into their housing, Drift following behind them, hoping he was right.

-----------

The war was over. Cyberton was in an odd state. Shockwave was leader, the Decepticons and Autobots were scattered. You could even say they were shattered factions. (Roll credits.) The two factions in the war now needed to find a way to co-exist somehow. Putting that dreadful war behind would not be easy. The Decepticons' leader, Megatron, had unfortunately ceased functioning. Killed by that traitor, Shockwave. Soundwave would rip out that traitor's spark if he had the chance. But the Decepticons were not fully lost. They were nowhere near their previous power, however. They had much fewer numbers, not as strong a fighting force, and they had a leader who could not even hope to amount to what Megatron did.

Soundwave was only there because he had nowhere else to go. He would almost certainly be executed for the things he had done during the war. So he stayed with the army that the previous Second In Command of the faction had gathered. Starscream. It would certainly take getting used to. Starscream is not the leader Megatron was. But perhaps that could change with time. Soundwave would have to stick around to see that happen, and stick around he would.

----------

He was fuming, any bot that was an inch from him got shoved out of the way, and others, well they got thrown. It was very typical of Starscream when he threw a tantrum, to flick pain on others.

Being treated like the under dog for so long, he had picked up habits, and mold them.

But, this time was different- his attacks were more brutal then the normal. Starscream wasn't sure who gave the cadet the go to scout energon, with out a group. Something was off, Starscream couldn't put a digit on what.

Turning on the communication, the channel had been switched to private- just in case any was listening in. Had pinged in Soundwave, :'Find out who on Primus gave authority for a one bot solo mission, on finding energon!' Starscream said, almost half shouting, leaving his comm open for Soundwave response.

Takeing a sharp left turn, the Seeker stomped with each step. Dearing anyone to stop him, behind him was the sound of petter patter steps from small peds that came from none other then Rattrap, "Sir! Please slow down!" Stopping in his tracks, Starscream spun around, his servos now propped onto his his. "Did you already taken care of that mess?" The new Warlord said, in a demanding tone, rushing the mechanic vermin.

"Yes, Mord! I did what you've asked of me-" without giving him any further ado, Starscream turned back around and started to walk again in big strides. However it didn't seem like Rattrap was finished, "I need to talk to you! About Cybertron-" with this Starscream stopped in his tracks.

"Speak, and make it fast." The once Second in command command, not giving any room for small chit chat. "Well, uh. There's been reports- about disappearing bots back on home." Rattrap paused, in order for Starscream to react. "Witch fractions?"

"If my calculation and resources are correct- both." Rattrap held a datapad in his servos, clutching onto it as if it was his life line.

"Is that so, Then tell me, whose your resources, and how did you found about this?" Rattrap began to shift his pedes looking nervous. "The mech you killled-"

"Finish your report, then once your done leave the data in my quarters. Once done, bring up the dead bots profile- see what's all on his background history!" Starscream shouted, by now- he was more mad at himself to act upon reckless thoughts and actions, which made his mood even more sour.

Rattrap better prayed to the all spark, that this was just some miscalculation- rumors no less. If not- Starscream had more on his servos then that a war he was sure he was going to lose.

---------------

Drip, drip, drip. That was all that could be heard in the lab, Shockwave was collecting it; it's unknown for what reason but it seemed important. To the side was a whole diagram of the standard Cybertronian anatomy, there were beakers everywhere. To his right was a list of Decepticons and their pictures, most were all crossed out except three, Soundwave, Starscream, and Archangel. His experiment betrayed him, now was the perfect time to strike. At the bottom of the list was Megatron, his first victim, this was all part of the plan to save Cybertron. After a few hours had passed underneath the lab, he walked out into the barren wasteland which was Kaon.

|The Office|

Shockwave made sure he didn't have any energon on him, he didn't want to arouse suspicion to his actions. He landed, waving to his secretary, his fake persona was just to be clear. He walked up to his office, he sat down in his chair. Moments after, his secretary called. "Mr. Shockwave, you have a visitor from the Police Department, someone called Archangel." Shockwave was surprised, why would he want to see him? "Bring him up, we'll have a talk."

----------

Archangel was waiting in the lobby as the secretary contacted Shockwave of his arrival. He scowled as he wished the bot would call him by his rank as he introduced himself before but it seemed to have slipped their processor.

"He's waiting for you now, Archangel. He's at the top floor." She told him.

Archangel bowed his helm respectfully as he hid his sudden dread. "Thank you." He said before he walked past the counter and entered the lift. He pressed the top floor option on the lift's console and the hatch slid shut in response and began to ascend.

Archangel's servos clenched tightly as he grew tense and tried the venting technique Rung taught him to calm him down, however his emotions were overwhelming which deterred his efforts to relax. Despite his failure, he hid how he felt rather well as he remained stern as soon as the lift came to a stop. The hatch opened into Shockwave's office. The large purple mech was sitting at his desk and seeing him again made Archangel feel sick in his fuel tank.

"Commander Archangel of Iacon's Police Department. I have dire reports that acquire your attention." He said seriously as he placed the datapad on his desk. "We've been having multiple cases involving cannibalism in the streets due to lack of energon supplies. The public wants actions regarding the issues before they manifest into more riots."

#starscream #drift #soundwave #shockwave #megatron #rattrap #prowl #bumblebee #laserbeak #optimus prime #Transformers: Shattered Fractions #idw transformers #transformers #roleplay #transformers roleplay

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skyfallensoldier · 3 years

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Mobile Navigation || Rules & Mun ↓

DISCLAIMER: I just want to note here at the beginning that while I am considering this RP blog to be historically based, i.e. remaining true to the time period and overall details of John Laurens' biographical information and whatnot, I do not consider myself a historically accurate blog, not entirely. Historical fiction is a well known genre of literature and many, MANY creative liberties are taken within that genre. Think of this blog like you would if you saw an Anastasia Romanov blog. She's dead, we know she didn't survive, and she's been dead a long-ass time; so has Laurens. People still have included her in many works of fiction, even after her body was identified and it was proven she did not survive her family's massacre. I saw a romance book a couple of months ago where she survived that was recently published. Historical fiction, while a controversial thing at times, is a legitimate form of literature.

You don't have to tell me if you think John isn't acting exactly like the real man himself would have, I know that. I'm not going to call John my 'perfect sunshine boy cinnamon roll' or dismiss the privilege he was raised on due to his father, I'm aware he was a real person who had his own personality, virtues and prejudices. I won't deny that while he was certainly a progressive thinking man for the time he grew up in he definitely still had racist thoughts and actions that were indicative of his upbringing. But I'm not on here to debate modern, real life politics, or get into arguments about whether he was a good abolitionist or not. At the end of the day, this is still a hobby for me, and I'm writing for fun.

Basically, don't take it too seriously. I'm a 21st century bisexual woman writing from the POV of an 18th century (likely gay) male soldier, the way I write him is obviously not going to be a perfect representation of who he was. I know he wasn't an amazing, perfect person, but I've still chosen to write a fictionalized version of him for my own entertainment. Please try to respect that; thank you.

Mun Stuff

Name: Luna Gender: Female (She/Her or They/Them) D.o.B: July 23rd, 1996 Age: 24 Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Bisexual Timezone: Eastern Time (US & Canada) Activity: Daily BIOGRAPHY (SORT OF)

Hello, there! You can call me Luna! I've been interested in writing ever since I first got the internet when I was 14 and discovered FanFiction.Net and now I'm an aspiring author and Roleplay enthusiast. If you include acting/talking out DnD like games with friends then I've been 'roleplaying' since the fifth grade, but I like to think there's always room for improvement. If you ever want to chat I'd love to make a new friend or plot out a roleplay, so don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or send me a private message. Just because my muse can be a jackass doesn't mean I am! I’m a huge advocate for mental health, and if you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t ever hesitate to reach out! Some of my hobbies including literature and writing (of course), digging into mythology from various cultures, practicing solitary eclectic paganism/new age spirituality, drinking tea, and collecting crystals/minerals.

Please note that for the sake of disclosure, I am considered ‘Neurodivergent’, in that I suffer from ADHD, diagnosed at about age six, and have Anxiety and Depression which are directly tied to it. This doesn’t often effect my life on here, but I sometimes have an unpredictable sleep schedule (stay up all night, sleep in late into the morning, etc). I’m usually quick to reply to threads for the most part! I work every Tuesday and Thursday from 5pm to 7pm in addition to odd jobs here and there, during which time I won’t have access to the Internet. The rest of the week I’m on and off all day basically, so you can feel free to contact me any time.

RP Style

⭐️ Please use basic spelling/grammar/punctuation when you RP with me. I'm not a drill sergeant about these kinds of things, I know that typos happen, and if you have a vision problem or such we can absolutely find a way to work around that, I also have no problem roleplaying with people whose first language is not English, so that's totally fine and I’m happy to accomodate in whatever way I can, but it does make it a little difficult to play with you if I don't know what you're trying to say. For this reason I prefer if you not use any text shorthand (lol, idk, brb, jk, etc) unless our muses are messaging each other. Using it in the tags is fine.

⭐️ I roleplay Laurens in a past-tense 3rd Person Point of View (think story-telling format), and generally I don't use icons or text formatting unless I notice my partner does, then I will try to match their style (for example if you use icons and small-text, I will try to do the same, though because formatting isn't possible on mobile, any mobile replies might take longer to be posted than if I were on my laptop). If you have any issues with how I'm writing or need me to adjust my style for any reason don't be afraid to ask.

Contact

⭐️ If you spam me with messages over and over again about something I haven't replied to, chances are I'll drop the thread. I don't mind being reminded because I know Tumblr's notifications are notoriously unreliable sometimes, and humans can forget/lose things, but if you keep poking at me after I've acknowledged you the first and second time, I won't be pleased. Things can get busy on here, or in real life, or sometimes you're just lacking muse for that particular thread, y'know? It doesn't mean I hate you and don't want to RP, I'm almost always up for plotting, but muse tends to fluctuate.

⭐️ My ‘Discord’ is available to mutuals upon request. I don't mind roleplaying on there if Tumblr is being glitchy or you're just not feeling up to formatted/heavily plotted threads, sometimes Discord is fun in that you can do immediate replies without needing the effort of putting icons and formatting into it. I also have a Kik but I never use it. I don't RP in Tumblr's IMs, that's purely for OOC interaction.

⭐️ I also occasionally stream movies/TV shows in group chats or play “in character” Cards Against Humanity game nights, Among Us, etc. If you’re interested, lemme know, I’m always looking for more people to hang out with!

Important

I have no actual triggers that I'm aware of, although snakes do creep me out (mostly shots of them coiled up or images of their pupils), but there are some things I will not roleplay personally for comfort reasons:

⭐️ Cannibalism. You can mention it, for example I won't freak out if someone tells my muse that somebody else ate a person (he might, assuming its not a Supernatural type verse), but I won't RP him engaging in cannibalism, not even in AUs (blood-drinking vampires are fine). I'm just not sure I could stomach writing about eating people. I managed to watch Hannibal, barely, but writing about it? Nah. I can handle lots of horror, gore and disturbing content but not this. Sorry.

⭐ Incest/Pedophilia. I do not SEXUALLY ship with characters under the age of 18. John is not attracted to children, and would never consider sleeping with someone much younger than him.

⭐ I will not write anything sexual with muns who are under 18 years old, even if your muse is an adult. I'll still ROLEPLAY with you if you are under 18 but probably no younger than 16 just because things tend to get explicit on my blogs and I don't want to be accused of corrupting the youth with my foul language and weird opinions, lol. Seriously though, this blog covers a lot of dark subjects and while I’m all for minors exploring that safely through writing rather than in real life, some people aren’t comfortable with interacting with under age people for legal or personal reasons, please respect that.

⭐ Necrophilia. Just... no. Vampire threads don't count, as they're undead and not 'dead dead'.

⭐ Rape. I won't write it with you. I'm okay with mentions of rape, with rape/sexual assault survivor/recovery plots, and even with one character intervening to rescue another from an attempted sexual assault (if an attempted assault does occur, it will be thoroughly tagged and under a cut). I'm fully open to discussing rape recovery/trauma plots as those are things that happen in real life, and it can be interesting to explore how a character reacts to trauma. But anything else is a no-go, sorry!

⭐ Please be aware that I write Laurens as a gay man. However! Because of the time period, violent homophobia and social stigma, he has slept with women before and may be seen flirting with or referencing relationships with women in the past. He is still gay, and still uninterested in being with women long term, he's simply closeted to all but a few individuals. So, unless your muse is Martha Manning (who Laurens DOES love in a manner, and he always will), shipping with female characters on here most likely isn't going to happen unless it's heavily plotted/developed and part of an overall plot, and you understand that it will not be a conventional sexual relationship. I'm sorry if that disappoints you but I've read Laurens as a gay male for so long I have trouble seeing him any other way.

⭐ I will not roleplay slavery plots. This is not up for debate. Roleplaying a highly fictionalized version of a long dead real person who existed during a troubling time is one thing, but I draw the line at that. For this reason, while I'll happily play with non-white muses, muses using non white faceclaims, and crossovers with characters of all sorts, I'll have to decline playing with any muse claiming to actually be writing slavery. There’s a difference between, say, roleplaying a character like Daenerys, a fictional character who was technically a slave-bride sold by her brother, and writing actual slavery from a very real, horrible time period. Slave ownership will of course be mentioned on this blog, that's unavoidable, but just like the mention of rape may happen on this blog from time to time, it will be in reference to a past event or speaking about the subject in general, not roleplaying a scene of it. Please respect this rule, I was hesitant to make this blog at first, because I know it makes some people uncomfortable, but I won't glorify such a horrible real thing that happened to so many people.

Exclusives/Mains

Just a head's up, unless I develop a bunch of chemistry with a particular portrayal of a muse I'm not likely to agree to being exclusives with anyone, unless perhaps it's a very niche or divergent character that has formed a good relationship of some sort with John and I'd have trouble interacting with other versions of that muse. For major characters I just feel it would be unfair to say no to someone who I click with in every other way, solely because I have already befriended someone else writing that character.

I will, however, discuss becoming mains with someone whom I've either developed or plotted out detailed storylines/interactions with regarding our specific portrayals of our characters. This means that I tend to reply to them quickly when I'm online, or may make little gifts (moodboards, aesthetic things, mini ficlets, whatever) for them unprompted, have a verse dedicated just to them, etc. Even if it seems like we haven't done much on Tumblr, there may be a lot of off-site development on Discord or whatnot that led to us plotting out intricate stories for our muses.

Current Mains:

Alexander Hamilton - @quillborn

⭐️ Send private messages.

⭐️ Send my character asks/starters/memes.

⭐️ Tag me in things.

⭐️ Ask to plot or ship.

⭐️ Ask for angst, fluff, etc.

⭐️ Submit things to me & my muse.

⭐️ Do crack and other ridiculous things with me!

⭐️ Like my RP threads.

⭐️ Like my personal posts.

⭐️ Comment on my personal/OOC posts (if you want to).

⭐️ Comment on my crack threads.

⭐️ Instant Message (IM) me if you'd like to talk, whether we're friends already or not!

DON'T

⭐️ Send hateful messages to me about other people and especially my mutuals; doesn't count if it's about the muse and not the person playing them, however. Also, if I’ve got beef with someone for whatever reason, don’t harass them/send hate to them on my behalf, please. I don’t condone anonymous abuse, attacking others, or harassment. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, I promise.

⭐️ Introduce yourself with ‘wanna ship?’ For one, I prefer if we’ve at least started a roleplay together, or have spoken OOC. Auto shipping doesn’t always work out and I hate promising people something only to realize there’s zero chemistry, because then I feel like I’m letting them down.

⭐️ Come into my inbox with just ‘wanna rp?’ and that’s it. Please at least have some idea of what you want to roleplay, it’s not very fun when someone approaches you to RP but then doesn’t offer up any suggestions at all. Remember, you are always free to send me memes, whether we’re mutuals or not, and hit me up for whatever plot you think might interest me! I want to hear about it!

⭐️ Spam me with "reminder" messages if I've already acknowledged you the first few times.

⭐️ Reblog my RP threads if you're not a participant in them.

⭐️ Send me anonymous OOC hate. Hate for Laurens is fine, it's just another form of roleplay.

⭐️ Kill off my character or severely injure/maim my character without permission or having plotted something involving that with me first.

⭐️ Follow me if you're a porn blog. I don't mind blogs that post NSFW content, or smut a lot, etc. I mean blogs that aren't for RP and are literally just a normal looking blog until you click on it and the header and first twenty posts are hardcore nudity and porn. I hate those things.

⭐️ Shame my ships.

⭐️ Complain about my tagging. I put my smut under a 'read more' without exception and tag them as "NSFW //" with two dashes. Things that are not necessarily graphic but still have sexual undertones go under "Suggestive //". I use these tags to avoid attracting attention from porn blogs and porn bots that track certain key words, as such I do not tag my content with "Smut" or trigger words such as "dick, oral, anal, nudity, etc", please block my NSFW and Suggestive tags if you're uncomfortable. Triggery subjects (mentions of rape, animal abuse, torture, mental illness) will be tagged under the name of said trigger with a space and two dashes, example: "Self Harm //", “Suicidal Ideation //” or "PTSD //".

⭐️ Godmod my character. If you’re not sure what is/isn’t okay, come talk to me! I don’t bite! If you’re looking for an example of god mod behavior, here: “X lunged at Laurens, taking him by surprise, and hit him square in the nose, causing blood to spurt.” It might not seem like a big deal but it means that you decided how your character’s actions affected my muse, and not only that, didn’t give him a chance to dodge or anything. Not cool.

⭐️ Ship with me without permission (sending in shippy asks is A-Ok if you're interested in exploring a ship between our muses, I'm talking about things like claiming that our muses are in a relationship without discussing it with me, referencing dates or sexual acts that never happened, etc. I ship mainly with chemistry otherwise things get boring fast.

⭐️ Assume/act like our characters know each other/are closely connected (friends/family/lovers) if we've never discussed it unless it is established in canon/history. This especially goes for original characters. I'm open to Laurens forming deep relationships with OCs obviously, but those have to be developed in character, not just assumed from the first interaction.

⭐️ Attempt to roleplay with me if you are not a roleplay blog/or if you're just trying to RP as "yourself." I don't do Character X Reader imagines stuff. I don't RP with 'fan' accounts, only RP blogs. You can still send asks so long as you're not trying to initiate an RP scenario. For example, asking Laurens what his hobbies are, asking for a blessing etc? That's fine. Spamming me with different actions "you" are talking to Laurens is weird. Stop that. I will also not RP with blogs that claim to roleplay as real life people, such as Markiplier, that's super creepy. This does NOT apply to "historical fiction" roleplay (obviously since that's what this blog is), which is considered its own genre of literature. I'm talking about the above where people will 'roleplay' as real life, currently alive people like YouTube celebrities and ship them with their friends, even if they've made it clear that they're uncomfortable with it.

⭐️ Get angry at me for doing something you don't like if you don't even have a rules page for me to go by. It's not fair; you can't expect your partners to just read your mind and magically know how you feel. If something bothers you let me know, I’ll make a note about it so I avoid it during our interactions!

⭐️ Use me as a meme resource blog without ever interacting with me. I don't require "reblog karma" for you to follow me, partners are more than welcome to reblog from me, but if we never interact and I just occasionally see you reblog fifteen posts from my meme tag and then disappear again I'm not gonna be happy. Go to the source or to an archived blog no longer getting notifications, please!

⭐️ Reblog my Meta/Headcanons. If they're from a different blog it's fine but the ones I've personally written are for MY portrayal of Laurens. I work hard on most of my stuff and I'd prefer if you didn't reblog it, not because you aren't allowed to have the same headcanon ideas as me, but because then it ends up getting liked or reblogged by lots of other people, spamming my notifications, etc.

OCs & Multimuses

I love OCs and multi-muse blogs (I have my own multimuse sideblog over at @historyremembers, which has other 18th century characters including the Hamilton children and some OCs), so feel free to interact! That being said, please have an about page of some sort on your blog. I can't follow back blogs that have absolutely no information available regarding their character(s). I don't RP with OC children of Laurens. This is nothing personal, but I'm fairly certain he was gay in real life and prefer to play him that way, and he only had one child - who he never even got to meet - in real life, so it just wouldn't make sense to me for him to have other kids running around unless he'd adopted some. If you're a multimuse, I may not follow you back if I'm only familiar with two of your muses if you have a blog of fifteen characters, simply because I'd prefer to keep my dash clean and only have characters/fandoms I'm familiar with on it. I'll still RP with you if you have a character I'm interested in! I just might not follow back if the majority of your characters I do not know, I apologize for this.

If you’ve made it to the end of this, congrats! I know it couldn’t be easy (my ADHD brain was frustrated trying to just write all this up) but it’s necessary so there’s not misunderstandings on what I am/am not willing to RP. I won’t ask for a password since I trust most people to have the courtesy to at least skim the rules of those they want to RP with.

Have a nice day!

#Everybody Listen Up! {PSA}#Out Of The Field {OOC}#Long Post //

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eponymous-rose · 6 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E30 (August 14, 2018)

Note: Storms in my area tonight were messing with my internet, so I had a few brief outages to contend with!

Tonight’s guests are Laura Bailey and Travis Willingham AND THE TEENY BABY. Everyone is understandably distracted. Brian: “Let’s just show the baby for an hour.”

Announcements: Electric Beargaloo is up on CR’s YouTube, and a limited-run Honey Heist t-shirt is available on the store!

@critrolestats for this episode:

Fjord, Jester, and Yasha were missing for 6 days in-game (Laura and Travis were gone for 6 weeks out-of-game).

Jester’s cast Cure Wounds 38 times and Healing Word 6 times. Cure Wounds is her most-cast spell. Laura: “I am so happy about Taliesin making another healer. Me, personally. Inflict Wounds! Inflict Wounds! Inflict Wounds! Spiritual Weapon! Toll the Dead!” Travis: “That’s the mother of our child.”

Travis was definitely intending to distance himself from Grog with Fjord’s more sensitive character. A lot of Fjord’s backstory is based on things that happened in Travis’s own childhood, and while he’d normally want to keep those things protected, he was curious to see what it would feel like to share those with a character, and he’s already feeling a stronger sense of investment in that sense. Laura asks if he likes Fjord more than Grog. Travis: “I can’t really love anyone more than Grog right now, because Grog is bae.” Maybe in fifteen levels... He talks about how expectations shifted toward him in real life after he went through a growth spurt and came back to school as one of the tallest kids in his class: as a parallel to that, Fjord is being perceived as so handsome and charming and a leader after having had exactly the opposite experience through most of his life.

Jester does feel a bit abandoned by the Traveler. “This terrible thing happened, and nothing helped her in those dark moments when she was asking for him.” Laura doesn’t want to get into it too much, since it’ll come into play in the game. Is this the worst thing Jester’s ever experienced? Laura: “Well, yeah. Jester hasn’t done hardly anything.”

Jester doesn’t feel especially guilty, but “she wants everybody to be happy and wants to make other people happy, so in this situation where she’s the least happy she’s ever been, there’s an extreme desire to fix it.”

Emotional healing is much more important to Jester than physical healing.

Fjord didn’t really know how much he might’ve been worth to the rest of the Nein. He thought they might’ve come for Jester or Yasha, but not him. Travis: “Maybe not that far. Just from what he’d seen so far, he thought, ‘Nah, we’re lost, they’re not going to come for us. There’s so much they have to do.’”

Laura wanted to cast Sending (even if it was totally unhelpful), but Matt told her it wasn’t possible in her current situation: they knew how to deal with casters, and she wasn’t able to talk.

Gif of the Week: Jester dancing.

Laura was really bummed not to get to say goodbye to Kiri. They both wished they could’ve made it to the live show. They’re also super disappointed they didn’t get to play with Sumalee and Ashly.

Fjord’s “going to endeavor to keep trying to look out for everybody. He’s just hard on himself for a momentary lapse of perception. He’s going to be more motivated to take care of some shit.”

Laura and Travis realize that Fjord and Jester can both disguise themselves. Travis: “We could bone with anyone and anyone else! We can take suggestions.” Brian: “I’m thinking of some merch ideas.”

Taliesin sent Laura and Travis Caduceus’ art before anyone else. He checked in with Laura to make sure she was okay with another cleric, and she was really happy. Laura: “His domain is totally different from mine. A lot of times with Jester, I couldn’t do a lot of spells in the RP aspect of the game, because I had to save them for in case there was a battle we were playing. There are so many fun just-fuck-with-people spells she has.”

First impressions of Clay? Laura: “I love his hair.” Travis: “The dude abides. I didn’t even feel like an insight check was necessary. He just seemed so positive and nonplussed and go-with-the-flow. I think a little chillness was needed. If he freaks out and goes all rage monster, I will love him even more. He’s gonna eat people.”

Travis and Laura didn’t have any plans going in regarding their reactions to Molly. Laura: “I didn’t expect to get so emotional over it.” They were jumping in and out of watching episode 26, since they had a one-week-old baby at the time. Later in the night, they pulled the episode up and realized Taliesin wasn’t there... and found out from the chat what had happened. “We fucking go have one baby...” Laura: “Molly would still be alive if we were there. I feel like we would’ve told them to run.” Travis: “It was still a good plan, though, honestly. The dice just screwed them.”

Absorbing Summer’s Dance was “most definitely” Fjord’s tribute to Molly and wanting to get him vengeance. It was especially hard because they were roommates the entire time. “Fjord has never really had friends or companions, much less somebody you had to talk to every night before you crashed out. As crazy and different as Molly was from Fjord, he never judged Fjord.” Fjord’s last conversation with Molly was about how the ship exploded and what happened, and it was “the first time Fjord started to trust somebody with that shit, and he got fucking killed.”

Jester’s taking being a cleric much more seriously because she doesn’t want more friends to die, and she’s starting to understand the stakes of what she does. The cleric-related jealousy of Caduceus was a bit of bleed-through. Laura: “I need to remember that I’m the one that’s competitive and Jester is not. Because that definitely is my go-to.” Brian: “Yeah, you in real life are much closer to Vex than to Jester.”

Fanart of the Week: a great combat group-shot!

Both Jester and Fjord’s primary motivations have changed. Travis: “A little less seeking outside answers and knowledge to things that aren’t really going to help.” Laura: “Jester’s primary motivation of just wanting to bring joy has maybe increased even more. We’ll see how far that goes.” Travis really wants Jester to go dark. “See, now I’m sad that I made Jester happy. But I do think as we level up, Jester’s Spiritual Weapon should get more and more badass. A lollipop with spiky sugar on it or something. Rock candy mace.”

Fjord saw the Cloven Crystal reveal as just another sign of the universe telling him, “Fucking get after it, son.”

Matt gave them a five-minute summary of what went down right before the game, and then left it up to them to work out how they’d play it in-game.

Laura thinks the Gentleman’s bad news. Travis: “Oh, you think? He took fuckin’ samples of our blood.” Laura’s pretty sure he’s tied in with the slavers in some way, but Jester hasn’t got enough information to get suspicious in-game.

Fjord was genuinely impressed with Jester’s ability to---to him---sound upbeat even in captivity.

Fjord was starting to become comfortable that maybe the Nein looked to him for some sort of leadership, which he’d only had some brief experience with during his days on ships, but that took a pretty hard hit. Travis: “He’s encouraged to see Caleb as a team player and looking out for others, and that the first thing he tried to do was make us feel better. He expected a fair amount of, ‘You fucked up.’” Laura: “He was really, really nice.”

Laura reveals that Jester’s actually a cannibal serial killer. You... heard it here... first?

Fjord was surprised to see how much growth there was for Beau in the six days they were gone. “She seems mature, responsible. She didn’t punch any kids. It’s awesome.”

Jester thinks Yasha’s wings "look really badass”. She also doesn’t think anyone has as close a tie with their deity as she has with the Traveler (at least, before this recent uncertainty).

It’s tough for Fjord (but not so much Jester) knowing they can’t achieve revenge against Lorenzo, but they’re still hopeful for closure. Fjord would consider a good kill with Molly’s sword to be closure. Travis: “It’ll be taking care of the group, making sure something like that doesn’t happen again.” Jester: “I don’t know what will get it for Jester, honestly.”

Talks Machina: Are We Out Of Time Yet?

Ronin’s class? He’s very loud, so maybe a bard, but he has monk-like kicks. They think he might’ve been learning from Laura’s battle-heavy VO sessions in the womb.

Laura loved the “case closed” moment, even though when she first heard about it, her initial thought was “Nott closed a case without me!?!”

Travis was surprised that nobody else perked up at the description of the Cloven Crystal. Laura: “Nobody cares about your backstory but you.” Dani: “I care!” Travis: “THANK you, Dani!”

It was really hard for them to miss the first episode in the new studio, since it was such a milestone. They also hate that they missed the first PC death.

Sumalee got booked on a new TV show, and mentioned on Twitter that the first thing she got asked was what it was like to be on Critical Role.

They reminisce about Liam’s evil one-shot they played with Ashly and talk about how vicious Travis gets when he’s not on your side. Endgame for Fjord? Chaotic evil, clearly.

At Ren Faire a few years ago, Travis went missing from the group after some drinking. They eventually found him at a rare coin stand, and he showed off an old coin he’d just bought. Brian: “I’m like, ‘How much did it cost?’ And he just looked down.” Travis: “DON’T SAY THE NUMBER.” Brian: “The shame immediately kicked in.” Laura also dropped a dagger in a porta-potty. Brian: “The Ren Faire takes a toll.”

We fade out on Brian walking away while Laura and Travis sing ‘You’ll Be in My Heart’. As you do.

#long text post #critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers

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blackwatchstray · 6 years

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Rules for everyone not able to see the actual side, click on the tiny thingies, etc - and for me, if the browser crashes while I edit them to fit the thing

Basics

Don't be a scumbag.

What does that mean? No random witch hunts out of personal vendettas, no starting wars about ships of any kind, no hating on Ocs (duh) or the insulting/hating on the portrayal of other people – simply put, I don't wanna be pulled into a war, especially yours. Your character can be the biggest piece of shit on the world, I really don't mind, go ahead but I really have little to no time to deal with people who make fun of others just to feel better with themselves.

Drama-Llamas:

If you want to pick a fight, you won’t have any success here.

Godmodding:

No, thank you. However I'm perfectly fine if you decide to write what would happen if the plan of your character succeeded to lengthen your posts. I do that too after all.

As it stands – do not control my character. Unless agreed upon or for scenery changes aka moving from one place to another. For the sake of timeskips, scene skips, etc this is fine.

Relationships:

Don’t just assume a certain relationship to my character. You can always ask me and I’m totally fine if your character knows mine, especially if you're Black – or Overwatch, just don't expect them to be official lovers, friends or family. Everything else? Is fine. I won't forbid you to have a purely visuals based crush on Feral, for example. He has one on a certain Blackwatch member too, so there's that.

Please don't be intimidated by me. I'm as scared of you, as you are of me – probably more even.

On writing

Selectivity:

I'd love to write with everyone but my anxious mind and horrible self-perception causes me to turtle and avoid reaching out. Even more so if a try for interaction ends in being ignored. So, if you want to write with me – are interested in Feral, by all means, come at me, send a meme, as random as it may be as long as it isn't romance or smut related I'll figure something out – and likely return to bother you later on. Still, all things combined I can be counted as semi-selective.

Universes/Alternative Universes/Crossovers

Given Feral is already – in one way or another – an AU version of my main RP character I'll limit interactions to the Overwatch universe and/or my AU verses listed under verses. If your character still works in these scenarios – as in for Overwatch a somewhat dystopian futuristic setting that I always feel hesitant to call Cyberpunk, you're more than welcome! Just please don't be upset if Feral might call your Robot character an Omnic.