#I need a better shrine space

[castlesprincess]

Shrine

[teojira]

I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[chaoticace2005]

Why Vox needs to GET THE FUCK OVER THE RADIO DEMON:

(By Velvette, the only competent of the Vees)

(Her list for Valentino here)

1. He’s just not into you

2. We have better things to do than allocate company time to this.

3. He makes you look stupid

4a. He makes US look stupid (and Valentino already does that enough)

4b. Seriously how are we supposed to stop your boy toy from chasing whore around town when you can’t do the same with your ex? We need to set a (gag) good example for him.

5. What do you even see in him? Tacky coat. And that voice is so old-school.

6. You have two people who (reluctantly) want to work with you. Why spend energy on a guy who doesn’t?

7. This was seven years ago babe. Give it up.

8. I’m tired of finding your Alastor Body Pillow around the penthouse

9. Speaking of the body pillow, did you really have to spend 5k on it?

10. Company money should be used for COMPANY things. The fact we even have an “Alastor” budget is stupid. HE DOESNT EVEN GO HERE. ( @onesidedradiostatic )

11. He fucked off once, he probably will again.

12. Do you really want to fuck with someone who has the princess and king of Hell on his side?

13. It makes Valentino insecure about his sexual prowess, which is not good for anyone.

14. I have to LISTEN to him complain about it.

15. No matter how hard you try, nobody will ever beat “Susan” for #1 rival in that man’s heart. (Which is valid cause Susan SUCKS.)

16. Also you’re wasting company time by having Val put together shitty-Alastor look alike porns? Angel Dust does NOT look like Radio Demon ffs, I though Val was the blind one not you.

17. Your screens keep crapping out whenever you think about him, and we’re running out of ones in storage.

18a. I don’t want to keep having to go to overlord meetings for you because you’re having a breakdown over of he’ll be there or not.

18b. Speaking of breakdowns, STOP MAKING THE WHOLE CITY LOSE POWER.

19. You’ve taken over the entire office space with your Alastor-shrine. It’s not really an inconvenience, just creepy.

20a. Not to kinkshame but I walked in on you and Val fucking with Alastor-wigs on, REALLY?!

20b. Also I think you’re making Val insecure about his lack of hair.

21. STOP asking me to design Alastor-cosplay clothes for you. I don’t want anything to do with this.

22. I already have to deal with one pissbaby

23. Seriously, he isn’t into you. Maybe it’s cause you’re a mess. Maybe it’s cause he’s AROACE. Who knows.

24. You keep interrupting channels to brainwash people into hating the Radio Demon, when we should be brainwashing them into other things.

25. We can all hear you talking to yourself in the shower when trying to come up with shitty comebacks.

26. You display your dreams when you sleep, and while it was funny at first at this point it’s so boring. Val and I want to watch something actually interesting for once rather than the same shit.

27. You keep glitching out in bisexual whenever he comes up and it’s annoying waiting for you to put your shit back together again.

28. I’m sick of movie nights where we just watch your self-made compilations of “Alastor’s Epic Fails” or just watch security footage of him at the hotel.

29. Why do you even try and film him? Your shitty cameras can pick hardly anything up.

30. Honestly this whole thing is just pathetic.

31. Like it used to be cute but now?

[iamgonnagetyouback]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀────۶ৎ tinsels, taunts, and tom

synopsis: ever since you decided to stay at hogwarts for christmas, you’ve been determined to make the slytherin common room feel festive. tom riddle, of course, has done nothing but criticize your efforts—until he’s the one stepping in when others taunt you content warnings: reader may exhibit dangerous levels of stubbornness, some rude slytherins but tom defends you author's note: merry christmas, loves! hope it’s as magical as you are ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,614

Snow blanketed the grounds of Hogwarts, but within the Slytherin common room, warmth flickered from the green-tinged flames in the fireplace. The space had a quiet charm to it—too quiet, in your opinion.

Most students had left for the holidays, save for a few Slytherins who preferred the quiet, or in Tom Riddle’s case, who preferred to brood in solitude. That left you with plenty of opportunity to act on a whim: transforming the stark, monochromatic room into something a bit more festive.

You looped garlands of silver and green around the ornate mantelpiece and placed charmed candles on every surface. Even the windowsills bore sprigs of enchanted holly that glimmered faintly under the dim light.

“I fail to understand why you’re bothering with this,” Tom said, perched in an armchair with a book in hand. His voice carried the kind of disinterest he reserved for things beneath his notice.

You flashed him a grin, not pausing as you draped mistletoe above the archway. “Because, Tom, not everyone enjoys lurking in a dark cave all winter. Some of us find joy in life.”

“Joy,” he echoed, as if testing a word in a foreign language. “A fleeting and frivolous emotion. But please, continue. Your nonsense is vaguely entertaining.”

“Your approval means everything to me,” you deadpanned, stringing silver tinsel across the doorway. “Truly, I don’t know how I’d carry on without it.”

His lips quirked, almost imperceptibly. “You’d manage, I’m sure.”

“Riddle, say, do you ever smile? Like, ever?”

Tom glanced up from his book, a slim brow arching with the kind of disdain that could shrivel a mandrake. “You do enough smiling for the both of us. Why should I bother?”

“Because,” you huffed, perched on a stool as you tried to untangle a particularly rebellious string of fairy lights, “it’s Christmas. Smiling is part of the package deal. Like eggnog or cozy sweaters or—”

“Or, apparently, turning the common room into some kind of… garish shrine to consumerism,” he cut in, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You gave him a look, shaking the lights pointedly at him like a disappointed parent wielding a wooden spoon. “Garish shrine? These lights are enchanted to sparkle with the precise hue of Slytherin green. If anything, I’m showing house pride.”

“House pride,” he repeated dryly, his dark eyes trailing over the half-decorated room. Silver garlands draped the walls, enchanted snowflakes floated lazily in the air, and a miniature tree twinkled merrily on the table. “I’m sure Salazar Slytherin himself would be positively weeping with joy at the sight of… this.”

“Salazar could use some joy,” you shot back. “That man’s portrait looks like he’s smelled burnt toast for five centuries straight.”

Tom’s lips twitched—just for a moment—but he quickly hid it behind a derisive scoff. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” you said sweetly, finally hopping off the stool. You turned to him, hands on your hips. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Riddle. For someone who claims to hate Christmas decorations, you haven’t moved from that chair since I started.”

Despite his clipped tone, he hadn’t moved from his spot. He even turned a page in his book at a leisurely pace, as if to say he wasn’t paying attention—but you knew better.

“I’m merely here to witness the inevitable disaster,” he replied smoothly. “Someone needs to be on hand when you inevitably fall off that stool or set something on fire.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” you said with mock sincerity, clasping your hands dramatically to your chest. “My hero.”

He rolled his eyes, returning to his book, but not before you caught the faintest hint of amusement lingering on his face.

It wasn’t long before you had the entire common room glowing with soft, enchanted lights and sparkling decor. You were putting the finishing touches on the small Christmas tree when the door opened, and a group of boys from your house sauntered in.

“Well, well,” one of them drawled, his smirk as sharp as a serpent’s fang. “What do we have here? The little elf hard at work.”

You turned, unfazed. “If I’m an elf, what does that make you? Grinch incarnate?”

Another boy snickered, but the first one stepped closer, a sneer twisting his features. “Decorating the common room like a silly Hufflepuff. Who even cares for this drivel other than you?”

Before you could retort, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“I do.”

The temperature seemed to drop, though the fire continued to crackle. Tom stood in the corner, his book closed, his eyes dark and calculating as they swept over the group.

The boy faltered. “Oh, come on, Riddle, you can’t actually—”

Tom took a step forward, slow and deliberate. “Do you believe I’m in the habit of tolerating insolence?” His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of an unspoken threat. “I suggest you leave before I find a reason to make your lives… unpleasant.”

The boys exchanged nervous glances, muttering under their breaths as they slunk out of the room.

Once they were gone, you exhaled and turned back to the tree, pretending the moment hadn’t affected you. “I had it under control, you know.”

“Clearly,” Tom said, crossing the room to stand beside you. “It was almost impressive how your wit compensated for your vulnerability.”

You glanced at him with a raised brow. “Vulnerability? Is that what you think? Don’t mistake me for someone who needs saving, Riddle.”

His lips twitched again, a ghost of amusement. “I wouldn’t dare. You’d likely bludgeon me with that wreath before I had the chance.”

“Exactly,” you replied, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Glad we understand each other.”

For a moment, silence settled between you, interrupted only by the crackling fire. Tom’s gaze drifted to the tree, his expression softening almost imperceptibly.

“You did well,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “It looks… decent.”

“Decent?” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. “High praise coming from the great Tom Riddle. I might faint from the shock.”

“You’re intolerable.”

“And yet, here you are,” you pointed out, stepping back to admire the room. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually like this.”

He didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary. There was something unspoken in his eyes—something that almost felt like warmth, despite his many layers of cold detachment.

“Merry Christmas, Tom,” you said softly, breaking the spell.

He inclined his head, his expression unreadable. “Merry Christmas… though I still fail to see the point.”

You laughed, the sound echoing in the festive room. “Oh, Tom. You’re hopeless.”

And maybe he was, but for a fleeting moment, as the glow of the Christmas lights reflected in his dark eyes, you thought he seemed just a little less so.

The two of you stood in the common room, the glow of the tree casting soft light on Tom's sharp features. You were tidying up the stray decorations while he lingered, his book long forgotten on the armchair.

“You know,” Tom began, his voice softer than usual, “you never told me why you didn’t go home for the holidays.”

You paused mid-step, your fingers brushing against a strand of tinsel. His tone lacked its usual edge—it wasn’t a demand but a genuine question.

Tilting your head, you offered a teasing smile. “What’s this, Riddle? Taking an interest in my personal life? Should I be flattered or concerned?”

He rolled his eyes, though the slight tension in his jaw betrayed something deeper. “I’m merely observing. Most students jump at the chance to leave, yet here you are, inflicting this… merriment upon us.”

“Well,” you said, turning back to the decorations, “I could ask the same of you. Why stay here when you could haunt your local library or terrorize your neighbors?”

His lips twitched, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t deflect, love.”

You sighed, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “I suppose I could’ve gone home. But it didn’t seem worth it this year.”

“Why not?” he pressed, his voice quieter now.

You hesitated, considering brushing him off with another joke, but there was something about the way he was looking at you—unreadable, yet oddly expectant.

“I guess…” you started, your voice softening. “I didn’t want to leave you alone on Christmas.”

Tom blinked, visibly thrown. “You… what?”

You smirked, trying to lighten the moment despite the faint blush creeping up your neck. “Oh, come on, Tom. Imagine how utterly miserable you’d be without someone here to annoy you. I’m practically doing a public service.”

His expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe even vulnerability. “That’s absurd. I don’t require company.”

You stepped closer, your smirk softening into something gentler. “You might not require it, but everyone deserves it. Even you.”

He looked away, the faintest pink dusting his pale cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re welcome,” you replied, grinning.

For a long moment, he didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the tree. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “You should’ve gone home.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “If I had, who would’ve kept you from turning this place into an even bigger dungeon?”

His lips twitched again, but this time, the amusement reached his eyes. “You overestimate your influence.”

“Do I?” you challenged, nudging him lightly.

He looked at you then, truly looked at you, his guarded mask slipping just enough to reveal something softer beneath. “Perhaps not.”

The warmth between you lingered, unspoken but undeniable, as the Christmas lights twinkled around you. For the first time, the cold, unyielding walls of the Slytherin common room felt like home.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[servantofthefates]

How to Summon Your Guardian

Neopagans call them guides. Catholics call them angels. Some witches call them fae. Different names in different faiths, yet the same being. The one who walks beside you.

The First Call

My elders say our guardian is close to us when we are children. Because that is when our soul contract with them is fresh and new. As we grow older, we push them away because we have forgotten they exist. They still check on us now and then, but they no longer stay. To call them back to you, do this:

Wherever you are in the world, no matter what time it is, begin by sitting still and closing your eyes. Take deep breaths until you feel isolated from the world around you. Using these exact words, or simply as a guide, speak out loud or in your mind:

“I now recall. You are the good luck that comes to me unexpectedly. You are the bad luck that saves me from worse luck. You are the whisper that tells me where to go. You are the push that shoves me to the right path. You are the caress that heals my aches. You are the pain that strengthens my resolve. You are the companion I had forgotten about. But now I recall. And back to me, I now thee call.”

Make the words true, by recalling the times when an invisible force seems to have saved you. When something hopeless suddenly worked out for you. When some suffering turned out to have been good for you. These are the acts of your guardian.

Then open your eyes.

The Vision

In the next minutes, hours or days — it is not the same for us all… wait for a response. A dream. A sensation. An encounter. Some sign that your guardian has heard your call and has returned at your side.

This will be different for everyone. But when it comes, it will be undeniable. Because whatever sign is sent will be deeply personal. A symbol that meant something to you in childhood. A song you used to love ages ago. Mine was a hypnopompic hallucination.

More often than not, it will also reveal the appearance of your guardian. A glimpse of their face. The sound of their name. A revelation of who they are. And whoever you see or hear will not be surprising to you. After all, you have known them before. Deep down, your soul still remembers.

Wait for this vision before you proceed. If it never comes, repeat The First Call. This time, more solemnly.

The Gift

Give your guardian an offering. An acknowledgment of your vision and a reaffirmation of your intention to walk with them once more.

Whatever you give, it needs to have value — material, sentimental or both. My elders say it is better to offer something you already own and hold dear, instead of acquiring something new and shiny, whose worth could be artificial.

Leave this offering somewhere special for your guardian. If you have a sacred space, an altar or a shrine… leave it there. If not, it could be a dedicated space in your bookshelf, in your dresser or on your desk.

In your own words, tell your guardian this gift is for them.

The Sharing

You want your guardian to share their life with you once more. So you too must share yours with them. This means leaving out for them a piece of something you enjoy every now and then.

Treated yourself to a bar of chocolate? Give them a piece. Put it beside their gift. Dispose of it the day after. Bought a bottle of perfume? Spray some in the air for them to smell. Received a bottle of wine? Pour some in a glass for them to taste.

Make this second nature to you. Share with your guardian your little happinesses. Not as a sacrifice, and not even as an offering. Think of it as having a friend that your eyes cannot see but your soul can sense. This is not a deal, an exchange or a spell. Just an act of decency and kindness.

The Incantation

In times when you need help, or in moments when you feel scared… make sure you have an incantation at the ready to tell your guardian you need them. If you are religious, think of it as a prayer. If you are pragmatic, think of it as dialing emergency.

The words have to be your own. The length needs to feel comfortable to you. The rhythm has to sound meaningful to your ears. Mine is based on a prayer I learned in Catholic school as a child:

“Lucifer… my inspiration, my angel, my friend… Be at my side, to light and guide, to rule and guard. Amen.”

[tagamantra]

one thing i really like about buddhism--particularly mahayana buddhism--is that it understands context, so in my mind it's a very "human" religion. mahayana doesn't tell you to live up to impossible standards but rather, to actually attain what was once thought impossible through whatever means you have. by any means necessary is very applicable to mahayana buddhism.

in the lotus sutra, the buddha states something along the lines of "if a person needs an arhat to be saved, i will appear in the form of an arhat" and proceeds to list down several other forms they might take to save someone, right down to "if they need a common person to be saved, then i will appear in the form of a common person." now, buddhism has been soteriological from the start (it's all about emancipation from the wheel of rebirth after all) but that sutra passage only really served to highlight the major message of the entire sutra: the use of skillful means.

so to me this means buddhism accepts contexts. it doesn't require you to do 180,000 prostrations, it doesn't require you to be a perfect peerless meditative god, it doesn't require you anything that you cannot do at all. it doesn't matter: you will become a buddha all the same. that last bit makes it even better: since in buddhism emancipation means becoming a buddha, when sakyamuni "saves" you he only really supercharges your enlightenment so you can get to it easier, or if another buddha saves you (like amitabha) he whisks you off to his pure land sukhavati so that you can focus a thousand kalpas on just enlightenment without having to be hungry, thirsty, or oppressed.

the majority buddhism in my country is mahayana--it used to be some form of esoteric buddhism during the classical period but that has long since vanished away. though the fact that there has been avalokitesvara images found somewhere in batangas makes it a very spiritual thought to become a buddhist in a country that has partial buddhist roots.

it's mahayana because the buddhism that was brought back here during/after colonization was chinese buddhism. which is dominated by amitabha/pure land buddhism. now one of the most important deities/bodhisattvas in chinese buddhism is guanyin 觀音 (bodhisattva of compassion, who is a strange sinicized version of avalokitesvara). you'll still find her statues in the philippines, especially in parts most concentrated with chinese immmigrants. in one corner of binondo you will see a street shrine with guanyin, mother mary, and jesus christ beside each other, and with passersby offering incense to all three of them.

so since guanyin (who, by the way, is sometimes syncretized to essentially be "chinese mama mary" because religion in religious countries is very bumfuck evades taxonomy) is the most popular bodhisattva in the PH, when tibetan lamas arrived here to teach vajrayana, they adapted a lot of chenrezig rituals even though chenrezig isn't really overtly huge in tibetan buddhism. so now when you go to vajrayana pujas in manila, they almost always have some semblance of chenrezig invocation, and its common to have chenrezig pujas.

another upaya-kaushalya thing i noticed is that buddhism doesn't really do like mass every sunday. but since filipinos have been doing sunday mass for around 300 years now they adapted and now we have sunday pujas because the common filipino expects some sort of religious commitment on sunday

i think buddhism could be a huge boon to socialist movements. cutting through the ego, emphasis on emptiness (that is, nothing has inherent nature, which is essentially mystical materialism), and an emphasis on a sort of helping each other to gain merit would really benefit everyone. especially since unlike christianity they don't force other local religions or local people to change for them, but rather, they retrofit themselves into the local space, adopting the principle of skillful means to help everyone realize their buddhahood.

[syluscore]

I'm a Loser, Baby

~loser, creep, disgusting, vile! König x fem! Reader~

Word count: 1103

Content warnings: harassment, cyber-bullying (digs at reader's personality, appearance, dead loved ones, and telling her to kill herself), stalking, nonconsensual touching(while sleeping), gross stuff (involving a toothbrush, silverware, and menstrual blood), male masturbation, fantasies about period sex, defiling corpse mention

!!!!!!STRICTLY 18+ BLOG! MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!

He’s obsessed with you and you never really pay attention to him. At first, you were intrigued by the giant masked man, but he’s so awkward and says the most unsettling things that you’re completely put off.  And it irritates the shit out of him.

It’s his personal mission to knock you down a few pegs. He starts anonymously bullying and harassing you. So many mean messages from random numbers and throwaway emails. You block every single one, but he always has more at the ready and makes more as needed. Apps such as TextNow have made this so much easier for him.

Fucking stupid. Useless woman. No one wants you around.

Ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.

No wonder you have no friends. Bet your family hates you too. 

Your laugh makes me gag and your teeth are disgusting. Cover your mouth, tramp.

I hope you hate yourself everyday, and if you ever forget, I’ll always be here to remind you. 

Ever thought of just killing yourself? Doing the world a fucking favor.

Your body is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen. Seen whales built better than you.

If you blew your face off, you’d be a lot more attractive. 

If you hung yourself in front of everyone, they’d just watch. Wouldn’t even try to save you. Worthless.

Personality is about as good as unseasoned chicken. Waste of space.

You ever stared at your side profile? Obviously not since you haven’t killed yourself yet.

He finds people online to send you messages and even call you too. All he has to do is send a little money their way and your contact info, they do all the rest. 

He watches the light slowly fade from your eyes as the messages get more and more elaborate. People online can get really creative. When you change your number and make a second email, he chuckles to himself and immediately forwards them along. 

You’re in your head a lot more now. Not paying attention much to everyone around you, fucking up in training which only makes you feel worse. Gives him extra time to go through your things and watch you in your oblivious state.

You don’t notice the little chew marks on your toothbrush. Him sneaking into your bathroom at least twice a week to suck on the object while he jerks himself off into your skin. You set your dirty spoon in the sink and the second you’re gone, he’s sucking and licking on that too. Groaning knowing your saliva is inside of him.

It continues to escalate until he finds himself going through your things. All of your things. He rummages through your trash casually. Your bathroom trash isn’t safe from his dirty hands either. 

Your monthly cycle is his favorite. He’s always enjoyed the sight of blood and yours makes him fucking feral. He keeps himself from outright touching or tasting the blood, but when he finds a pair of blood stained panties that you couldn’t be bothered with trying to clean or keeping for another cycle, he loses his mind.

It’s probably one of his favorite keepsakes of all time. Using the piece of fabric as a fidget toy of sorts. Whenever he’s alone in his room, he has them in his hands just rubbing them between his large fingers. Jerking himself off with the blood stained fabric numerous times. Always wondering what it’d feel like to fuck you while you’re bleeding–how much blood would coat your thighs and his cock.

In a locked drawer in his own room, he has almost a shrine dedicated to you. Little things he’s stolen from you and so many pictures of you. All taken when you’re unaware of them. An obscene amount of them from when you’re sleeping. Of him touching you when you’re sleeping. Of his cock touching your face and hands when you’re sleeping.

One day he’s leaned back in a kitchen chair, arms crossed over his chest while he thinks of what to do to torment you next, when you walk in eyes bloodshot. Like you’d just been crying. Which you had been thanks to a really nice message getting under your skin. One about defiling your dead relative’s corpse because it’d be more desirable than you. 

König stares at you, not moving a muscle or making a sound. You avoid eye contact as you aimlessly stare in the fridge.

He finally speaks up. “Okay. What’s wrong?” You try to brush it off, telling him it’s nothing, but he keeps pressing. And soon tears are falling from your eyes again and it has his cock hardening in his pants. 

You spill your guts. The harassment. The constant texts and emails. The bullying. The threats. The thing about your loved ones corpse. And König silently listens until your sobs finally stop. 

“You know, I know some people who can deal with this sort of thing. Could make a couple calls and make this disappear.” He fails to mention it’s because he’d call off his specialized force of internet dickheads. 

“Oh,” you speak quietly. “You don’t have to do that. Just feeling sensitive today. I’m sure I’ll feel fine again tomorrow.” Right. Your period should be here within a couple of days. PMS will do that to you–it always does. Best time to pay his people a little extra to be extra mean and consistent. 

“No. I insist. You’re being harassed and that is unacceptable.”

Your eyes soften, your lip continuing to tremble as you finally meet his eyes. “You’d–why would you do that for me? You’re willing to do that for me?”

König just barely nods his head. “Of course.”

You let out a sigh and wipe your tears, smiling widely at him. It has him completely rethinking his motives. You’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen when smiling up at him like that. 

Before he can process it, you’re wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and nuzzling your face against his chest. “Thank you, König!” You say happily, having full faith in him that he’ll accomplish this for you. 

That’s when you feel it. His fully hard cock. Pressing into you. Not a weapon, not a phone. His erection. You slowly take a few steps back from him, a look of disgust on your face. You stare at him for a fat minute before turning on your heels, storming out of the room. But not before yelling, “Pig!”

König does a full 180. Goes from smirking under his mask, to rage filled eyes. Have it your way. His efforts will now double in fucking with you. Self-righteous little bitch. 

~masterlist~

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[neuroncryptid]

With the recent reveal of several Phoenix Lords (RIP Karandras) I've been kept up at night, stuck on just understanding what it means to don their armor and what it says about the Eldar. As evidence by the Harlequins, an army of clowns is many things but subtle is not one of them, a lot of Eldar identity is defined by theatre. Its all so. . . enticing.

The Craftworlds, the traditional "vanilla" flavored space elves, live lives in the neat constraints of the paths. In order to stave off the ever hungry gaze of Slaanesh, the Aeldari dedicate themselves a particular craft or occupation. This is shown on the tabletop most clearly through the Aspect Warriors: Striking Scorpions, Warp Spiders, Howling Banshees, Dire Avengers, and more. They are masters of a particular art of war, individuals who dedicate themselves to replicating an aspect of Khaine, the god of murder. But do not be mistaken. The paths are not just a warrior thing. The poet, the musician, the painter, the sculptor, all of these things are represented by a path. They each are incredibly specific.

An individual Eldar may spend a century, maybe even thousands of years, on a singular path. But they might also just simply dip their toes into one only to hop to another after a short time. The goal of the paths is not to lose oneself to one or even master a particular thing. The act of a repeated task is enough. That, the self control, is the purpose of the paths.

Most captivating to me is the getting lost though. We are told this is a tragedy but being lost to the paths is nonetheless shown in both lore and tabletop to produce the best at a task or role. This of course makes sense. Should you spend a thousand years on one thing, have it become your person and you will become the best at that thing. But I can't help being stuck on what's lost.

The 1995 animated film Ghost in the Shell depicts a world of cyborgs and cybernetics. Every body contains some artificial product. The physical self is produced piecemeal on an assembly line. Some, like Major Motoko Kusanagi, have their entire bodies replaced. Only the brain remains, but even that is enhanced, probed, has metal shoved into it.

Of course these artificial bodies are designed with aesthetic in mind, but the individual is housed in an impressive array of augmentation and precise tuning. This leads to bodies being specialized for the tasks they need to fulfill. The Major is made for police work, her entire being curated to the application of force on behalf the state.

Not even the sparks of electricity in your brain is safe from this sense of artificiality. The thoughts that race through your skull can be manipulated, reprogrammed, hijacked. If this is what it means to exist in this imagined future, then what does it even mean to be a person.

This brings me back to the concept of the Phoenix Lords and the Aeldari. The Lords are in a way, just sentient suits of armor. But when they are worn they do not just speak to the individual. The individual becomes the person in the armor. To wear these plates is to cease to exist. You die so an individual "great hero" may walk again.

This is seen too, though in a less destructive to the individual form, in the Exarchs. These are the "sergeants" of the aspect warriors on the tabletop. They are those who lose themselves to the paths, those who become so dedicated to a form of murder that the act becomes more themselves than whoever took the first step into the shrine. Like the Phoenix Lords, Exarchs are kind of a sentient armor but unlike them, a person donning it is not completely lost. They are subsumed into the gestalt of past wearers. They become amalgamation, reshaped into a more honed individual.

But this doesn't just end there. Even the non-war focused Eldar see a form of this loss of self. When a conflict requires the conscription of the civilian population, the people take on a "mask" that separates the mind from the excess of war. The individual is hijacked to better suit the role. Of course, once any eldar leaves an aspect or the battlefield they are returned to their former self.

The Aeldari culture sees this as normal. It is made from the ground up with systems which facilitate the donning and discarding of a self depending on the role they find themselves in. There is of course tragedy in this from their perspective, but its only in the complete loss of self. The narratives of 40k place the war mask and the exarchs as separate things, diametrically opposed but they're not really are they? In a way the craftworlds are an assembly line producing bodies who's particular inhabitant is repurposed, reshaped for whatever path they find themselves on.

This. . . implied lack of actual self is so interesting by sharing space in the same civilization which has each of its citizens wear a spirit stone, a device which may save the soul from the jaws of She Who Thirsts by containing it in a gem. Clearly there is something, someone who is contained within them; the Wraith constructs show this. But who are these stones saving? Who is that self, the individual being kept?

[chuunai]

Hi there! I hope you're having a good day 💗💗. If possible, could you please do how the Bsd men would react to having a popular singer s/o? They could be like Robin from Hsr. If you don't know her, that's fine!

I believe Chuuya would buy your albums as soon as they're released and get VIP seats every single time. He would make sure to attend your concerts, no matter what.

Dazai would be like this:

chuuya ! buys VIP tickets the moment they come out. he doesn’t care you said he can get a free seat, the money goes to support you and your career. when the flow of your voice overtakes him, he’s awestruck by everything. the energetic dances, the sheen and shine of your costume and just you.

chuuya ! forces the mafia’s cafeteria to forever keep on loop your music during lunch hours. every single member of can recite both the oath to the organization and every song you’ve ever released. for every day of the week, it’s one of your albums or collaborations with other critically acclaimed musicians.

chuuya ! reminds you to take care of yourself. his girl can’t sing with a sleep-riddled voice, nor can she possibly dance with such sore feet, can she? no, you can’t, and so he smothers his care onto you. making healthy and delicious meals that your nutritionist approves of, running a hot bath filled with strawberry scented bubbles and a plate of fruit nearby. and of course, making honey laden tea for your throat to better aid your vocal cords.

chuuya ! has at least four of his most experienced and talented men guarding you when you’re out in public openly. stalkers and other obsessive fans are a common occurrence in your life, and he always has nightmares about someone kidnapping you or god forbid, killing you. an idol has to be protected, and he doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make sure you’re safe.

chuuya ! helps you make album covers and song lyrics. he’s seen so much in his life, and pouring out his story into a seamless chorus of melodies resonated to him. your album covers are always quite elaborate too—whatever you need, he can get it within a day. all he wants to see is your career flourish and for your bright smile to encourage the ones who are stuck in a limbo, just like how he was before you pulled him out from the abyss.

dazai ! runs your biggest fan account. countless glamorized edits and paragraphs that praise you as the ‘best singer in the world’. sometimes if you allow it, he uploads short videos recording your shared karaoke nights. your devotees can easily tell the different between your and his voices—one perfect and akin to orpheus, and the other screeching about suicide.

dazai ! infamously also doxes your haters on a separate and well hidden account. sadly, he’s one of the main contributors to why your fanbase has a reputation for being vicious and overly aggressive towards people who don’t like you. he thinks they deserve it though. you go through so much darkness, and negative comments don’t need to make you cry even more.

dazai ! keeps a shrine dedicated to you in the corner of the living room. merch, posters, vinyls and more are neatly arranged on shelves and small tables. not even a single speck of dust taints the sacred space. his wallet cries at how thin and malnourished it is, begging for even an ounce of yen, but his heart is full with pure adoration for you.

dazai ! sends akutagawa to your concerts when kunikida doesn’t let him go due to dozens of missing work assignments and orders. if he can’t go in person, he’ll watch from facetime and babble about you into the phone while akutagawa gets the perfect angle and view using rashomon. and when you shout out his name as your muse at the end of the performance, he melts into a pile of mushy lovesick goo.

dazai ! thinks his biggest achievement is being your muse. the thought that he’s the inspiration for some of your biggest songs and lyrics makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be. he’s no demon prodigy, no suicidal maniac or womanizer. he’s just a heavenly muse destined to help steer you on the right track with his heart in your hands.

Tags:

@twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @starrs20, @little-miss-chaoss, @secretlyagoblin, @broken-spirit101, @briarbabyxo

[citruswriter]

Can we have some angsty Bayverse turtles with a young sibling reader (who's a turtle as well)

Basically reader gets killed by shredder you can do a one shot or headcanons.

Take your time, and if you don't want to do it then it's fine.🫂❤️

Bayverse Turtles x Younger Sibling Reader

Warnings: Reader is also a mutant turtle, Reader death, lots of angst, fighting between the brothers, panic attack mention.

A/N: I'm not typically one to write angst, if I do it usually angry angst with a happy ending, lmao. But this request caught my eye so here we go. 👀

Leonardo 🧡

Completely shocked.

He knew you weren't ready but you had been so eager to help that he relented.

It was supposed to be a simple, easy mission. They didn't know Shredder was going to be there. It was an ambush.

He'll barrel past everybody to get to your body. This man will become an unstoppable force.

Holds you in his arms as you die. He'll do his best not to cry but his eyes will swim with tears none the less.

Screaming and wailing once you die. He'll blame himself and will be the one that takes it the hardest because he'll see himself as personally responsible for your death.

Back at home, he'll isolate himself. Bringing items of yours into his room and refusing to leave unless it's to go to the meditation room.

His brothers will literally have to force him to eat or else he will starve himself from pure grief.

Will end up worrying over his other siblings 10xs more after he stops isolating.

Time skip two years later. He'll be better, but he'll avoid talking about your death as much as possible.

He's still guilty deep down. Still thinks it's all his fault that they lost you that day.

Has a tiny shrine in his room dedicated to you and every year on your birthday, he gets your favorite meal and sets it there in front of your shrine, taking the day off to isolate in his room and just "spend time with you".

His brothers let him, picking up his tasks and patrols. They know it hit him hardest and they give him the space he needs for that one day out of the whole year.

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

Raphael 🧡

Immediately running towards your body.

Believes that if he can get there quick enough, he can save you.

But when Shredder runs off with a cackle and he sees just out deep the wounds are, he knows there's no hope.

"Come on, stay with me! Stay with me, (Y/N)! Don't you dare fucking die!"

In complete denial that you're dead, not even as Leo wails out in grief.

He and Leo definitely get into a massive fight about your deal. Like, screaming match. It's one of the ugliest fights they've ever gotten into. Raph will blame Leo in his grief but at some point the two of them come back together and cry at your grave.

Tries to drown his grief out with alcohol and working out.

Lowkey almost becomes an alcoholic but his brothers start refusing him the beer. He's all bitchy at first but eventually just breaks down and has to face his emotions. It's ok though, his brothers help him through it all.

He doesn't like being filled with so much emotion but you're gone and he needs to face that.

Definitely takes him the longest to heal. He's not really good at processing emotions.

Time skip two years. He's not as better like Leo is but he's ok. He's in therapy and getting better.

Like Leo, he has a shrine of you in his room but it's much smaller and much more obscure. You wouldn't be able to tell it was a shrine at first or even second glance.

Sometimes he likes to light your candle and "eat with you" as he talks about his latest therapy session.

He's not one to believe in ghosts but the way the flame to your candle seems to flicker more at his rambling makes him think that you're somewhere up there, listening to him.

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

Donatello 🧡

One of the first ones to react.

As soon as he sees Shredder's claws tear through your plastron, he's already sprinting your way.

He knows it's too late before he even gets there but he'll be damned if you die alone.

Leo holds you in his arms and Donnie sits there next to him, dabbing a washcloth on your forehead.

You babble out to them and he just shushes you.

"It's ok, (Y/N). We're for you. You don't have to be scared. You fought so well. We're so proud of you. We love you so much."

Is the one that breaks the news to April and Master Splinter.

He and Mikey dig your grave but only he buries you.

He cries when nobody's looking. Silent sobbing tears, hands shaking, chest hurting.

He tries to distract himself by throwing himself into his work but the empty chair you used to sit in when bugging him in his lab lays there empty and dusty.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

Blames himself as well but not as badly as Leo.

Moves on the fastest. He and Raph actually got into a fight over it. Raph accusing him of not actually loving you because of how fast he moved.

Donnie puts him in his place, telling him that at least he's taking the time to properly mourn instead of just ignoring the feeling.

"(Y/N)'s dead Raphael! There's no if, ands, or buts about it! (Y/N) wouldn't want us to just stay here all holed up and moping around. It's not my fault that you're not emotionally mature enough to fucking see that."

Two years later and he's pretty much back to normal. Of course you being gone still hurts. But he's a firm believer that you wouldn't want them to be sad, so he does his past to smile back on your memory rather than cry about it.

Celebrates your deathday rather than your birthday like Leo does. He brings some pizza and has a picnic lunch with you.

He takes the time to clean up your grave and leave fresh flowers and even leave a slice or two of pizza. If he brought drinks, he'll pour a little out too.

⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛》》》》》◆《《《《《⚛

Michaelangelo 🧡

Frozen in shock as soon as he realizes what's going on.

Doesn't move for almost a solid five minutes. Donnie actually has to shake him out of his stupor.

When Mikey comes back, he just stares up at his purple banded brother, tears falling down his cheeks.

"No... No this can't be happening..."

Donnie holds him as he breaks down and has a panic attack.

He's the one that breaks the news to Vern, Casey, and Chief Vincent. They're all shocked and offer their condolences.

Mikey isn't his usual happy go lucky self for a while.

I mean, he tries. Cracking a joke here or there with a weak laugh only for it to die down a few seconds later, pain in his expression.

He helps Donnie dig your grave but isn't strong enough to put you in the ground and bury you. He just can't.

Definitely moves on quicker than Raph and Leo but certainly not as fast Donnie does.

He becomes reckless. Constantly crashing into things and purposefully allowing himself to get hurt in fights.

He also loses a lot of weight, not being able to eat his normal favorite foods. No matter how good and tasty they smell. He says it feels wrong to eat when you're not there.

It takes a long conversation with Master Splinter before he's able to start pulling himself out of his funk.

It's starts small and slow but he eventually starts to pull himself together.

Two years later and he's mostly better. He's not as patched together as Donnie is but he's definitely doing better than Leo and Raph.

On your birthday, he takes a cupcake and puts a candle on top. "Make a wish, (Y/N)". Is all he'll say before "blowing the candle out for you". It's the most he does. Any more and he'd bawl his eyes out.

Probably misses you the most and hangs out with April on your deathday. The two of them doing things like online shopping and watching movies together.

Ik it's shit but I hope I made you cry. :D Be sure to check out the masterlist in my bio for more tmnt goodies.

[nightghoulz]

I have nothing to post (Dorn is sketched don’t worry!) so here are my ratings for Primarchs on how much I’d want to share a room/house with them.

All of this is based on what I would want in someone that lives with me :)

Under the cut because this had more than I thought!

Lion El’Jonson: 6/10. Still don’t know much about his character, but he seems more responsible then some of his brothers. Would keep to himself and that would be nice.

Fulgrim: 7/10. I <3 Fulgrim. He’d clean up after himself and would have nice decor for the house. Points docked for potential parties that would drive me insane.

Perturabo: 5/10. Still don’t know much on him. He liked puzzles. I like puzzles. Bonding. I feel like we’d disagree on furniture for some reason (that’s very important to me)

Jaghatai Khan: 6/10. He seems very chill. Most laid back of the primarchs from what I’ve seen. Also seems like he’d party/be very outgoing and have people over so points docked for that. Or loud motorcycle noises.

Leman Russ: 4/10. I’ve come to know him a bit more. The wolf stuff is funny. We both come from ice rocks. I’m worried he wouldn’t shower because of some wolf thing. House would be a mess.

Rogal Dorn: 9/10. Perfect roommate. Would respect personal space. Would help make stuff for the house. Both come from ice rocks again. Has a special blanket (fur coat) so that is bonus point.

Konrad Curze: 2/10. I’m sorry Konrad. I love diy. So those two points are for being a diy king. But showering is sort of important. (I love him but realistically this shit is not working) the house needs to be picked up too.

Sanguinius: 9/10. Perfect dude honestly. House would stay tidy. We’d have to be careful with fragile things because his wings would knock it over.

Ferrus Manus: 7/10. Crafty bff. I’d be worried about the house getting solder everywhere but otherwise he seems fine. Since his hands can heat up, he could be a microwave while watching tv when no one wants to get up.

Angron: 4/10. Without nails? Probably perfect. With nails? I’m scared of all of my work getting a hole punched through it. Rip to my walls.

Roboute Guilliman: 8/10. Knows how to do taxes we are saved! Would help keep the place tidy and wouldn’t throw parties. Furniture might clash though.

Mortarion: 5/10. I don’t know much on him still. Showering is important though. I do think he’d keep the place clean still. I wonder if he’d romance the grim reaper on our sims 4.

Magnus the Red: 9/10. Would contribute to book collection. Would watch documentaries with me. Would have a dedicated room to be the nerd shrine.

Horus Lupercal: 7/10. He’d have people over, but he’d be polite about it. The party gets cleaned up. The house is clean enough. Astrology stuff is everywhere.

Lorgar Aurelian: 3/10. I Just don’t think we’d get along. He seems very kind and comes from a good place, but I’d go nuts. Granted I still don’t know a ton on him.

Vulkan: 9/10. House is perfect and cozy. He respects everyone and everyone’s space. Has the best taste in TV. Also has cool artifacts for the shelf.

Corvus Corax: 8/10. Cool aesthetic. Furniture shopping goes insanely well. Thrifting king. Would respect space. Brings pet ravens so even better.

Alpharius/Omegon: 2/10. You don’t know they are your roommate. Whoops.

[astroyongie]

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ Goddess Worship: An Introduction of Venus 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

Note: Day 21 of our October calendar! Today we have an introduction of deities I work with/worship. This post is to provide some information about the deities but also how I work with them personally. Everyone has their own methods with the Gods, and you should do whatever feels right with you while also respecting the bases of the religions.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Historical Background:

Venus is the Roman goddess of love, beauty, desire, and fertility, whose origins lie in the Greek goddess Aphrodite (they are basically the same deity but one can have a preference for one or another when it comes in terms of naming. I personally like Venus denomeation better than Aphrodite, yet Aphrodite's cult is older and thus more accurate when it comes to history). She played a major role in Roman culture, not just as a goddess of romantic love but also as a symbol of the prosperity and power of the Roman state. Julius Caesar claimed to be a descedent from Venus through her son Aeneas, who was a Trojan hero and a central figure in Roman myth. You can find a vast historical symbols and lore with Venus. Out of the three goddess that I work with (Venus, Freyja and Hekate) she is the most well represented through art, literature, historical history and mythology.

Attributes and Symbols:

Doves and Sparrows: they are birds sacred to Venus, representing love and desire but also innocence and purity. These birds often accompany her in art as a part of her symbolism. Shells and Pearls: Venus is famously depicted emerging from the sea on a shell, symbolizing her birth from sea foam. Anything directly linked with the sea can be symbolic in her name Roses and Myrtle: Both flowers are sacred to Venus, representing love, beauty, and fertility. Golden Apples: Associated with the goddess, these were the prize in the famous myth of the Judgment of Paris, where Venus was deemed the fairest of all. Other red fruits can also be associated with her, anything that holds a connotation of love and desire. (The apples are also an association with Eve and the forbidden fruit)

Worship and Rituals:

Veneralia: A festival held in honor of Venus Verticordia (Venus the Changer of Hearts) on April 1st. This festival was primarily concerned with cleansing rituals, bathing in myrtle-laden water, and offering prayers for purity in love and relationships. Venus Genetrix: A title meaning "Mother Venus," this aspect emphasized Venus’s role as a progenitor of the Roman people through Aeneas. Julius Caesar established a temple in her honor as Venus Genetrix, showing her importance in Roman political and public life. Gardens and Shrines: Venus had many shrines and temples, particularly in Rome. Shrines to Venus often included lush gardens, which were a symbol of her fertility and life-giving powers. This is also an idea to set al whole altar/shrine for her, that doesn't need to be inside of home and can be creative with your outside space. Erotic and Fertility Rites: Venus was invoked in matters of love, sex, and fertility. Offerings of flowers, perfume, and wine were common, and her blessings were sought by women who wished to conceive. Pretty much like Freyja, people would have sexual intercourse in her honor State Worship: Venus was integral to the Roman state religion. Augustus, following Caesar’s example, elevated her status, linking her to the success of the empire and military victories. Any "birth" was dedicated to her

-> When worshipping Venus, you can make a pretty altar while respecting her symbolisms. Venus can help with love, but remember she helps with self love first as well. Do not invoke her only to have X falling in love with you. her cult needs to be taken seriously. Offerings need to be maid every friday and during her ritual days. Never use her power to become "the prettiest of them all", as Venus doesn't take well humans who try to use her name for pettiness. Be grateful for her, shower her in love and admiration and she will bless you in return

-> Ideas for offerings: Wine, honey, shells, feathers, mirrors, roses, myrtle, perals, jewlery, perfume, incense, scented candles, hairbrushes or makeup, apples, red fruits, sea water or sand, anything symbolic with the sea and love.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

"Venus in Rome: A Translation of Book II of Ovid's Fasti" by Ovid, Translated by Betty Rose Nagle

"Venus Genetrix: Political Imagery and Female Personifications in the Late Republic" by Paul Zanker

Carney, J. (2013). Venus in Augustan Rome (Doctoral dissertation, Florida Atlantic University).

Flory, M. B. (1988). Pearls for Venus. Historia: Zeitschrift für Alte Geschichte, (H. 4), 498-504.

[vibraniumqueen]

Fate

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (soulmate AU)

Summary: Your soulmate isn't anything like you thought they'd be.

Warnings: Canon level violence, Canon compliant (so far), angst.

Word Count: 639

A/N: This is a series! I might keep it short, but if people love it enough I'll drag it out. If I do drag it out there may be eventual smut. I'll edit this post if that happens to include proper warnings.

Read part one here

The Wait

It had been years since you had seen him. Your soulmate. The only time you had ever seen him. Well, in real life anyway. After you returned home that day, you looked into the Winter Soldier, Hydra, and SHIELD to see what you could find out. It definitely helped that the news that Hydra fell was made public within hours of it happening. You guessed, no hoped, that he had only been their pawn. You came to believe that he must be Sargeant James Buchanan Barnes. Different theories abounded online about the identity of the Winter Soldier after everything that transpired. But you didn't need those to come to that conclusion. A shrine full of World War Two books, maps, figurines, and the like stood tall in the corner of your apartment. Well, the space wasn't very big since neither was your apartment. You definitely knew who Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and the rest of the Howling Commandos were though. Interest and curiosity of the heroes (and the war) had held you in its grip since you were a teenager. You studied that face enough times growing up to know that the Winter Soldier had to be him. Realization never dawned on you at the time you met him due to the shock of the situation. But shortly afterwards, you were sure of it.

Of course, as time passed it turned out that the Winter Soldier was indeed Sargeant James Barnes. You watched the news the day of King T'Chaka's assassination. Despite the heartbroken state you found yourself in after hearing the news, you were certain it couldn't have been him. Why on earth would he wear those clothes? He had never once dressed like that as the Winter Soldier. Why would he use a bomb? He was a sharp shooter. That would be way easier, more precise, and stealthier. Besides, he had been an assassin, not a terrorist. Not that either were a good thing. It just didn't make sense that it would have been him.

Luckily, it turned out it wasn't him. He had been framed. You heard the news on the tv that your soulmate had gone back on the run, back into hiding, after the fight between the Avengers. Years had already passed at that point, and you wondered when you were going to get to meet him properly.

You refused to date during this time. Plenty of people did while waiting for their soulmates. You had too, before you received your tattoo that night. But after seeing him the next day, and knowing he was real, you decided you would wait for him, however long that took.

After what felt like an eternity, the blip occurred. And you had disappeared with it. For five years. Five years the world kept moving on while half its population was gone. You weren't entirely sure if Bucky had disappeared in the blip too or not. It didn't really matter though, as you still hadn't met eachother since that first day.

You had seen his new vibranium arm though, and you half-expected your star tattoo to disappear and turn into something else. You were glad things seemed to be going better for him. You hoped he was happy. You just wished you could be there to make him happy yourself.

You stayed in your apartment in Brooklyn. Hoping that one day you might see him here, since it was his hometown. So far, of course, you had had no such luck. Your days blurred together, working retail and coming home just to give yourself enough time to mentally rest yourself before the next shift. You didn't have a very exciting life, but it didn't matter. You kept yourself busy. That way you didn't have time to think about what you might be missing out on. You just hoped that someday soon you could finally meet him again. Properly, this time.

[sandybuny]

got this VS "iron age" build finished and im fuly moved in justt in time for winter 2

the windmill is pretty weak, ill need to build it higher and bigger for more power before i can put other things on the power train (no steel until then...) but for now its better than turning the quern by paw

that tree trunk inside with the bark on it and the candles in front, was a big oak tree i planted shortly after i spawned into this area. ive been treating it like a shrine for the whole year n a half since then, leaving little offerings for it once i got alcohol brewing going, and when i built my big house on that little rise i had to preserve some of it... its now the center post of my home and im going to chisel that basalt block on top into a nice capital for it.

ive been making a point of like only using the space i need, not terraforming lightly (that terrace only got built during winter 1 after my first garden failed to get me thru winter), replanting what trees i cut and not logging too much old growth, but for all its complex systems (it even makes u rotate crops) its a pretty glaring thing that mining all these extremely toxic ores and smelting them has no consequences

another issue, anti wolf propaganda - they attack u unprovoked

[starr-matterr]

♡̵♥︎♡̵̵"All you wanna do...is see me turn into...a giant woman!" ♡̵♥︎♡̵̵

This is gonna be my first ever fanfic and its for hsr😭😭

Its probably gonna be ass but I need to get this out of my head actually.

No use of y/n. reader is called "You"

Only like 2 characters r mentioned by name you'll understand that later

I know little to nothing abt hsr so alot of this might just be brain worms.

Idea credit to @eternityofend they r so silly for this idea go follow them plz

You were a unique Aeon, however, thoroughly confusing all who had studied you. You weren't callous and cruel like other Aeons, in fact You took a great pride in putting your all into caring for your followers and all around you. You were utterly perfect in their eyes.

Which Is why they were so confused when it came up to researching you. Your kindness and passion towards all you deemed good was well documented but one thing was not. Your appearance. You seemed to only appear to your followers in dream-like states. To your dear acolytes, You were a complete mystery, those few who did happen to see you only recalling how utterly loved they felt. They could only vaguely describe what they believed was You with statments varying each time.

It stayed that way for a long time as the seasons passed and sightings of You dwindled. Everything seemed so bleak without You, the greenery seemed to dull, the once colorful skies seemed to darken, and it could be felt by everyone.

Especially those blessed by you, most importantly, the Trailblazer. The Trailblazer always had a unique connection to You, often hearing your velvety voice for fleeting moments or seeing visions of You in dreams.

They had grown accustomed to your presence, even if you weren't physically there. When they had come to the realization that you were pulling away from your loyal, devoted acolytes they didn't take it well.

What had they done to forsake you? Why were You abandoning your Trailblazer?!?

They had moped around for weeks, delivering offerings to your shrines spread about the planets You had forged by hand out of love for your creations.

Without your guidance they began to spiral. Getting a little too rough with enemies, not tending to their own injuries after battles, often staring off into space, they were losing it. They needed you.

It wasn't until they had finally reached their breaking point until they heard it. A giggle, that laugh that would make all their worries wash away. Their breath hitched in desperation before they the thought of you out of their mind. You couldn't be back could you?

Then they heard it again. They didn't know why but they started running. It was if their body knew where to go but their mind didn't. They didn't know why they were running, You had never appeared in physical form yet.

They ran in the direction of your voice before hastily stumbling upon You. My were You a sight for sore eyes. The Trailblazer paused as they took in every inch of You, committing every last bit of you to memory, just incase this really was psychosis. You were sat in what seemed to be some large plains as your acolytes swarmed You like small bees.

You let out a chuckle at how adorable they all looked and how much they had grown since you last saw them. They were still so small and so needy but you loved every bit of them. Your acolytes peppered You with questions, praise, and presents as You gretted them all.

Sometimes you'd even let them crawl into the palm of your hand so you could get a better look at them. The person in question currently receiving this treatment being none other than March 7th. As she stared at You with star-struck eyes You couldn't help but giggle.

You continued to play with your acolytes before seeing the Trailblazer. You beckon them over with a smile, one the Trailblazer hadnt seen in months now.

As they approached You gently set March down, as to not hurt her before turning to the Trailblazer. Sensing how tense they were You brush a gentle finger through their hair as if anything harsher could crush them. As you pet their hair they seem to melt into your touch, making you laugh at their content smile.

You weren't expecting this. You expected your acolytes to be intimidated, scared even. You were white large and you could decimate them in seconds. That didn't seem to phase them as they chattered amongst themselves about larger temples and bigger offerings.

They just had to find a fitting celebration for your return, lest you take their hesitation as ungratefulness and devoid them of your presence again.

The trailblazer seemed to be keeping you company as the others made preparations for a mighty celebration in your name. As you patted their head their breaths were shaky as they professed their unbreakable loyalty to You.

It spooked you a bit. You didn't know your dear trailblazer could be so passionate, as You had only really been around them when they needed truly needed support or answers.

You didn't stop them however, You believed they needed to get this off their chest to sooth themselves.

You turn your gaze away from the Trailblazer for a moment, still allowing them to nuzzle into your fingers as long as they avoided your sharp nails. Now that you had a physical form you should probably file them down. You didn't want to harm your acolytes did you?

Your gaze falls upon the small crowd starting to form as they stare up at You. You flash them a charming smile, melting their hearts and making their minds feel fuzzy as you do.

That doesn't stop them from glaring daggers at the Trailblazer however. Just what was so special about them that your other acolytes couldn't do?

Their little angry faces were adorable to You. You just couldn't stop yourself from 'Aww'-ing at them!

Their heart skips a beat as hear it. Did you belive they were..cute? they feel all of those sleepless nights filled with extensive research on your disappearance was worth it. You swear You heard someone in the crowd offer You their newborn.

'This will be eventful.' You think to yourself as cou continue tending to your acolytes. Your heart swelling with unbridled joy.

UH YEAH.

My first fanfic done yippiee yippiee

Can you tell i haven't got past the tutorial of hsr because my phone is ass or naw be honest☹☹☹

Might put out a part 2 if the brain worms become too much idk

Also please tell me if I did anything wrong or something is misspelled or misused just dont throw pebbles at me for it thx!!!

YALL I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS EARLIER IM GONNA RIP MY FACE OFF AUGHHG.

[y-rhywbeth2]

To-do list for the inheritor of the newly re-established office of High Primate of Bhaal of the City of Baldur's gate, circa 1480-something: politics, re-establishing the faith and getting Bhaal more sorely needed worship. And because there's only so much entertainment you can get being a group of twitchy killers living under the sewers.

Negotiate terms with local government for freedom of religion (presumably a private audience with the Grand Dukes, maybe the Parliament of Peers, maybe both, idk) Negotiations will probably begin with a more diplomatic version of: "I apologise on behalf of my Father for that thing where he manifested an avatar and went on a murderous rampage through the streets just over a century after my siblings almost drowned the world - and this city specifically - in blood. But also, considering the power just illustrated I think it's fair to say that it's in the best interests of a quiet life and an easier clean up that you just give us our temple back and let us worship in exchange for assassination and spying work on your behalf." This being the usual arrangement with evil faiths, it is in fact a winning argument. You don't kill anybody who matters (so criminals, travellers nobody knows, the homeless, etc) and honestly nobody will consider it worth the time and resources to stop you anyway. -

Weaken the political hold of enemy faiths Ilmater, Lathander and Helm have an established presence in the city, and the Ilmatari have done well enough since 14th century to upgrade from a shrine to a temple. All three of those faiths are better established, more influential, and will oppose the growth and activity of a Bhaalist presence, for some strange reason, -

Re-establish ties with traditional allied faiths (such as they are) Bhaal's traditional allies were Loviatar, Talona, Bane, Myrkul, Mask and Hoar. While none of these faiths hold the same level of sway in the city their enemies do, they all have at least one shared enemy. -

Eliminate rival/dissenting thieves and assassin guilds and organisations. Maybe establish some. Don't expect to have the thieves guilds at your beck and call (Mask is their patron god, but Bhaal generally worked with him fine - and you'll be fighting the Sharrans for influence too) but do make a space for yourself in there and ensure they understand that patronage and cooperation is mutually beneficial. Assassins? They're Bhaal's and he and his worshippers are going to expect all killers for hire to be paying their dues to the Lord of Murder or expect a "cease and decease" regarding their attempts to profit off of his domain without paying him back. -

Acquire Temple holdings Most of a temple's wealth and influence is going to come from owning land and properties. All members of the clergy of pretty much all faiths are expected to go out and claim some. Unfortunately being out of the picture for a century+ means the temple has lost a lot of its original holdings, so you might need to start working on taking some from the other temples... -

Network, Infiltrate and Recruit Gods always need more worshippers, and that goes double for gods who've been dead for a long time. Serial killers need the law to play nice. It's time to remind the peasantry to pay their "don't murder me taxes" (known as "tithes" for legal purposes) and find the city's more murderous members - even many who'd proudly call themselves upstanding citizens may just desire the execution of certain criminals the law won't touch or can't catch - and seek sympathetic ears amongst the rich and powerful... and remove and replace those who aren't. There are plenty of people like unscrupulous younger children whose ear you might have if only you helped them remove the pesky barriers standing between them and control, known as their relatives. And then you have blackmail! Things like that. Remember to wash the blood off before attending any fancy wine tasting parties in estates and pavilions in the upper city. You want your faithful in the ranks of the city watch and the Fist sooner rather than later. -

Establish presence in the Undercellar As the local criminal underworld hub where the law dare not tread (unless they're off duty and here for some crime themselves) this is where a lot of your "public" work and contracting is going to be. Remember to buy one of the back rooms for the "private shows". -

Consider a Daytime Identity, if you don't already have one An important part of being a typical Bhaalist is maintaining a separate, normal life outside the temple that allows you your own income and solid alibies... or you could just live in your dad's house, cling to your divine status and refuse to do any of that mortal stuff, I guess. -

Start repairs on the Temple It's been a dusty, out of date ruin for 100+ years. Consider the structural damage. Maybe have the butler do a bit of dusting.