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07 August 2016 @ 08:52 pm
It was that time of year again. The time that only came once every four years: The Olympics.

This year they were in Brazil and leading up there had been all kind of health and safety concerns talked about in the media. But you could give two shits about that; your main focus was on the Olympic Village. It had been mentioned before that athletes slept with each other and fucked like rabbits in the village. It was something you were going to take advantage of.

With so many options it was just a matter of who you would persue first.
06 April 2016 @ 02:23 pm

the reason we're here right? when it comes to roleplay i am pretty flexible either way. i can do short one-liners and i can do multi-paras. i do tend to like longer posts just because they allow for more depth but honestly i can adjust to my partners preference. i usually don't make greeting starters ( i will when i'm getting started cause i'm a pleb ) but typically i prefer doing starter calls. when it comes to aus and crossovers bring them all on i'm more than happy to explore any verse or possibility.


mun & muse are over the age of 18 so there may be nsfw content. it will always be tagged nsfw //as for triggers i personally have none but i am more than happy to accomodate any followers that need something tagged. my tags will be tw: triggering content name here


i am a multi-ship blog at the moment. honestly i can be shameless with my ships but i do try to stick to some ounce of chemistry/interaction. i do ship balthier/fran but i won't force that ship on any muse that doesn't. i do not write m/m ships. i have nothing against seeing them on my dash/following people who do but just as a mun it makes me uncomfortable to write.


all icons were capped & edited so please do not steal or repost. they are not for public use.

dealing with issues

if you have an issue with me then please confront me privately. i've never really had an issue on the site but if it ever does arise i'd much prefer to handle things in private than public. critiqutes are always welcome but anon hate ( or hate of any kind ) will not be posted or responded to.


hi i'm david ´ ▽ ` )ノ i'm twenty-four and work a full-time job. i have a handful of blogs so if i ever have or day or two where i'm not as active that is probably why. i've had a kingdom hearts muse but this is my first time jumping into the final fantasy fandom so be gentle with me please alkdma.
14 February 2016 @ 10:56 am
Ares was not one for romantic words, despite the past history of lovers that he held. He was one who expressed his emotions through actions better than words. And even then he didn't get romantic with every conquest he had. It took a unique individual to sway his actions. And Diana was nothing if not a unique individual. At first he had considered doing nothing; but slowly he was starting to see that the Amazon Princess was more than just the best warrior alive. She actually had quite a bit of sentiment to her - even if that sentiment was often frustration when it was directed at him. So the idea of doing something for her - something other than romping around in the sheets all day ( although he fully intended to do that ) seemed like something that might get Ares some good points.

It started with showing up at her apartment in the morning, doing his best not to wake her. Truly Diana was a vision even when she slept - Ares couldn't help but wonder just what kind of work she did for her little league that would have her out all night. Given that she was sleeping so soundly he imagined the night before had been a long shift. Placing the roses he had stolen from his mother's garden on the side table he set the chocolates down on the bed. Yet as he was about to wake her with a kiss he got an ares-like idea to sabotage his entire effort.

Grabbing her lasso from the chair in the corner of the room he made a small knot and looped it around her wrist. Leaning forward he placed a small kiss to her bare shoulder, another along her back, and brushed her hair aside to place one on her neck. It was only once he felt her begin to stir awake that he grinned and spoke softly. "Do you love me, Diana?"
14 February 2016 @ 10:01 am
"Shepard, you are needed in the bridge."

The robotic voice of EDI broke the Commander from his sleep. Although in truth sleep was more like staring at the ceiling for hours on end. In a lot of ways it was the better alternative to sleep these days.
04 January 2016 @ 03:15 am
Clark couldn't help but notice the woman standing on the street corner. She didn't seem particularly lost - he had a hard time imagining anyone getting lost nowadays with GPS in their phones. It was more of a tourist type expression; as if she were seeing something for the first time. Normally he might understand, Metropolis had plenty of great sights to see after all. But - well there was nothing amazing about an intersection downtown surrounded by a bunch of tall buildings.

 As curious as it was Clark was willing to let it slid as a random occurence and continue his bike ride to work. At least that was until she stepped out into the street.


Clark may have many talents but he wasn't even sure if the Flash would've been able to avert the accident in time. Fortunately they landed a bit closer to the sidewalk so he ddn't have to worry about any traffic coming over them and as far as physical damage he was fine - even if his bike had seen better days. His attention immediately went to the girl in the sundress and sweater, hoping she hadn't been injured.

"I'm sorry, miss are you alright?"

His question came as he stood and slowly helped her to her feet. She seemed a bit reserved as she nodded her head and for a moment Clark wondered if she was shaken up from the collision. "I am fine, thank you." As she rose to her feet. he adjusted the glasses on his face. It sounded odd to say - given that there were millions of people who lived in Metropolis - but she wasn't a face he had seen before. Brunette hair, light skin with a hint of color, and eyes that seemed to be taking in everything they saw - which at the moment was his towering frame. He couldn't help but notice that she talked differently - not exactly an accent but certainly different and it made him wonder if his assumption of her being a tourist was right.

"I really should've looked where I was going -- "

"You're very dense."

Her comment caught him off guard and for a moment Clark stood there with his mouth open. It was only after a moment of speechlessness that he let out a breath and chuckled slightly. "That's not the first time I've been told that." He noticed her figeting with her sleeve and felt the need to inquire once more. "Are you sure you're okay."

She paused for a moment and Clark feared she might genuinely be hurt. Which in some case she lucked out as he was perhaps one of the best people to become hurt around. It was as if his question had caused her to think of something else until she finally spoke. "I feel amazing. What is your name?"

Internally he relaxed and he couldn't help but smile at how strange this meeting had been. "Clark Kent."
18 December 2015 @ 10:50 pm
IN THE END he out-lived everyone. That was how it always was, and how it would always continue to be. The price of being a god, of being immortal. For the majority of the thousands of years he had lived through this price was miniscule. His closest conversations were held on Olympus; most mortal interactions he made came and went in a way that was brief or immemorable. When they departed he wouldn't note their absence. But every so often - in fact it was rare enough that it hadnt happened in any recent centuries - there might be a difference. A mortal that catches his eye so much it even makes the goddesses notice.

                                              She had been that difference.

And now as he stood at her grave Ares found that he wasn't forgetting her existence, it wasn't passing him by like scenery on a train. Instead the memories lingered with him. He could still remember her laughter, her smile, the way she would furrow her eyebrows at him when he was about to do something she disapproved of. Their interaction had not been meaningless and for the first time in perhaps ever Ares found himself truly feeling the weight of the price that came with being an immortal.

Some myth might say that the gods saw humans as disposable, and this was true on ocassion but that hadn't been Rey. She was a source for him to stay on Earth rather than reside in Olympus. But now rather than wake up next to her ( he would take in her sleeping form before she would wake up at make a comment about why he was staring at her. a statement to which ares would compliment her and a resounding angry blush might grace Rey's cheeks ) the Olympian would wake up alone. Or worse he would try to fill the void with meaningless bodies. That seemed more of Ares way. To not dwell on emotions or express grief and sadness - but to find distractions and act as if he was unbothered by it all. A god wounded by the loss of a mortal? Ha!

Standing over her grave and having such a thought brought a shame that he wasn't used to. For should anyone look into the history of a god or goddess they might find that when they lose a mortal companion is when they are hurt the most. Even if he were to try to deny it there would be no avoiding the truth of what Rey meant to him. She had made him smile and she had made him angry. From joy to frustration to dislike and love - they had all been experienced with her. Now he could never experience them with her again. Ares became someone she trusted and in return he confided in her - though that didn't seem to come until later on. After they grew past their smart comments ( though that never truly disappeared ) and became content with what they were.

"You left some of your shirts at my apartment. Well - technically they were my shirts but...." he had lost count of how many times he would walk in to see her curled up in one of his shirts. And now he didn't have it in him to get rid of them or wash them, not when their scent was the last thing he had of her. "I considered going to my uncle and talking to him but I don't think bringing mortals back from the dead is something he specializes in." Considered under sold it, Ares had been on the doorstep of the Underworld before he stopped himself.

I miss you. Those were the words he wished he could say. In his mind he could practically hear Rey teasing him about it. Or she might stumble her way through a long-winded way of saying I miss you too. Rather than leave parting words, words that wouldn't do any justice Ares merely leaned down to place a bouqet by the headstone.
30 November 2015 @ 12:52 am
"Johnny Boy."
29 November 2015 @ 07:27 pm

                                "Evie Frye, I pressume?"

The question came seemingly from nowhere, a sentence carried on the air of a brisk London night. However if one had a keen eye they would be able to note the figure in the darkness. Most would only see their outline before it was too late. Evie Frye, however, was nonplussed. She, like this stranger, was familiar with moving in the shadows.

Stepping forward the voice presented itself before the assassin. Unveiled in front of her was a man of average height, thin build, scruffy features, and an age ranging in his late-twenties to early-thirties. Silently he pulled back the hood that covered his eyes, a polite smile gracing his features. "Jonathan Jones at your service." His hair was cut short, kept neat and close - more than she could say for many of the men she knew in her life. But there was one thing about him that she noticed first, above the physical appearances.

"Your American."

Her comment was a mixture of surprise and accusation. A wry smile graced Jonathan's features as he extended his hand towards her. "I am. I imagine Henry managed to let that part slip when he mentioned another Assassin coming to help." Evie answered with a smile of her own as she took his hand all the same. "You on the other hand, he has managed to tell me plenty of."

It was a bit of an ominous statement given the changes that had been going underway - or at least the changes that were trying to be implemented. Evie and Jacob Frye carried the weight of that change for London, which from everything Henry Green had been told was a Templar stronghold similar to the way the Colonies had been in the days of the Revolution, if not worse. Starrick was not a man looking to shape a budding nation - he was manipulating an already existing empire and seeking expansion.

While Henry praised the Frye's in his letter; he also mentioned their conflict of interest and methods. At times it was nothing more than siblings squabbling. Other times it seemed to threaten everything they had worked for. While Henry was capable - he hoped another Assassin in the mix would help stablize the environment.

"Nothing but good things I hope."

"Oh, he sings your praises, Miss Frye" he paused as her grip fell from his own, "for the most part." Glancing around he took in their surroundings. It was a fairly inconspicuous night. A lone carriage or two trotted along the cobblestone, and the occassional individual stumbled about clearly having had too much at the local pub. "If you don't have any pressing issues would you care to show me around? Fill me in on what I've missed on my voyage over here...And I'm sure you have some questions of your own."

                     With a nod Evie raised her left arm, a strange contraption attached to it, "Follow me, Mister Jones."

Needless to say Jonathan didn't have the same device she did which made catching up to her on the rooftops a bit more difficult than he would like to admit ( and much to Evie's amusement ). And even with the industrial haze that had taken over London, it was still a sight to see from the high rooftops. "How did you and Henry come to know each other? You speak with of him with a familiarity that is more than just a fellow Assassin." Evie's question was raised as they stopped to catch their breathes.

"Well" he thought back, trying to recall which was their true first meeting. "I actually made some trips to London as a boy with my family. Then as a young assassin I visited once. It was then that we crossed paths. I'm not sure if it was his first trip from the Brotherhood in India, but I doubt it. His overall dedication to the Assassin cause - even at that age - it was something that inspired me."

"So he's always been..."

"More of a philosopher than a killer? Ha-ha, yes I suppose his stronger points were his speeches" a light chuckle left Jonathan's lips as he leaned against the nearest chimney. "That being said it was only recently that he was finally able to convince the council. I was ready to come swooping in before he wrote me talking of the Frye Twins."

Evie fixed him with a gaze as if she were still trying to get a read on him. Maybe, Jonathan thought, she was trying to figure out whether he was more interested in gangs or Pieces of Eden. Even with his experience, even with Henry, ultimately he would have to follow their lead and that meant he needed them to trust him. "I have to admit I'm curious as to how your progress has been going - London is a big city after all."

At first she seemed hesitant to respond, he took that as a sign that not everything was going as planned. A theory that Evie soon confirmed. "We've made progress, but we've had setbacks as well. Precusor artifacts remain out of our reach...and hopefully out of the Templars as well. Freeing London is our goal, but if the Templars get their hands on a Piece of Eden they could undo all our work in the blink of an eye."

Jonathan nodded, gaze turning penesive. He had never seen a Piece of Eden himself but he had certainly heard of their existence, of one existing in the Americas at some point, but that information tended to be held by the council above his head. It was clearly a cause Evie had taken close to her heart and made it as much a personal goal as well as one for the Brotherhood. Whichever the case it was a goal he was willing to help towards.

"Here's hoping I'll be able to contribute to your cause and make a difference."

"We've made a lot of allies during our stay in the city, Mister Jones, I have no doubt you'll prove just as useful" smiling at him for a moment Evie turned to look out at the city. "Welcome to London, Jonathan."

IT WAS SAFE TO SAY that things between Sif and Ares were varied. Certainly for the most part they were straightforward lovers. Aggressive, passionate, unyielding. Their patterns in the bedroom reflected their habits on the battlefield and being a Goddess and God of War perhaps that wasn't too surprising. And yet despite those common themes they somehow managed to keep things interesting. They did live for thousands of years after all, without creativity where would they be?

Taunting and teasing was something he personally had a love hate relationship with, especially when he became the victim - but fortunately that was not the case today. Today he was the one who had the pleasure of starting the taunting. One might think two beings who were as direct as they were might not find enjoyment in such foreplay - and again they would be gravely mistaken.

Like all things it started out innocently. The aftermath of a sparring session - which wasn't really different from a battlefield except their bodies weren't covered in the blood of their opponents. Sif stood before a table ready to begin the process of taking off the multiple pieces of armor; from bracers to the chestplate. It was at that moment that Ares decided to make an entrance. His own armor had already been shed, his only clothing being a cloth that wrapped around the important parts of his lower half.

The God of War knew her habits. He knew Sif would be too focused on properly disassembling the armor - a sacred thing really - to take notice of the grin on his features. It was fortunate as one look over her shoulder would have given away what would become all too clear soon enough.

"That was quite the effort out there" he commented as he came to stand behind her. Such was the nature of their relationship - as gods of war one might expect fierce rivalry or perhaps dislike. In fact it was the opposite, they were companions on and off the battlefield. If she was a better warrior that meant more victories in battle and vice versa. Why wouldn't he admire her? "Let me help you with that." His tone was casual as he brushed her hair aside.

It was simple enough, innocent enough, as he reached for the leather strap that held her chestplate. And yet his touches were all too deliberate, brushing across her shoulders as he moved to the other strap at the left shoulder. As he would move to the lower straps his fingers would brush over exposed skin before removing the last leather strip. If Sif had figured out his plan she said nothing ( though Ares could swear he heard the beginnings of some labored breathing each time his fingers danced across her skin ) With no verbal response she removed the breastplate, placing it on the table before her. The Olympian remained standing behind her, eyes traveling the expanse of her exposed back. She really was esquisite.

To her credit she continued as if nothing had happened, her hands moving to undo the bracer on her left wrist. A casual question asking of how he felt after the match was asked - one that Ares gave an equally casual response to. His attention was focused elsewhere, mainly his hands reaching out to press against the small of her back. He would claim there was no reaction but her fingers stopped in the midst of taking the armor off. His hands started to wander the expanse of her back; eventually moving around to her abdomen as he pressed closer to her. If there had been any ignorance to his actions before hand it was obvious now.

"Oh, don't stop on my behalf."

Despite his words he continued to explore the exposed skin, only ever teasing the waistline where her armored skirt began. It was the definition of a cruel tease and he fully exected Sif to turn around and slam him against the wall at any moment. On the other hand - although they had finished their sparring for the day this was almost like another battle. A battle he was determined to win simply by touching her.

Leaning closer to her his breath was hot against the shell of her ear. "Have I ever mentioned the things seeing you fight makes me want to do to you" she had resumed her task while his fingers continued theirs. "I always have the urge to pin you to the ground and use that fire against you until you have nothing left to give....Or perhaps you take charge. You take the power from my hands and sit atop me until you get me to admit defeat. Over. And over. again." And when he could feel the goosebumps on her skin, the hands having stilled their task - that was when he pulled away from her.

                                         "But I've been told I live in a fantasy world so...." 
11 September 2015 @ 01:18 am
Clark buried his head into the crook of Selina's neck, his breathing heavy as he had finally spent himself. He could practically count the beads of sweat that dripped along her skin. Being positioned behind her his hand was still wrapped around her, cupping her breast as he could still hear the unsteady rhythm of her heart slowly adjusting to a normal pace again. His own system was coming down from high as well and Clark found himself placing a lazy kiss to her skin.

It wasn't always such a quiet aftermath when they got together - but lately he did find that it had become more common; maybe just because it was something they were both more comfortable with. It certainly was a contrast to everything that came before; her hand pulling at his dark curls, heated kisses searing her skin. Clark was finding more and more that he knew what worked for her - and that just made things that much more enjoyable. And yet, he found that taking in the aftermath with her like this was something just as enjoyable.

At first he was surprised - he thought she might not want him to stay so close - but there was a time when she stayed put, clearly content. From that point he had tested the waters. She never verbally said it was okay, in fact they never really spoke during these times, but clearly she was content or she would have said otherwise. Selina Kyle wasn't one to bite her tongue after all, that much he knew.

Clark's had drifted downward, tracing lazy circles against her abdomen. Just because they didn't talk a lot during these moments didn't mean his thoughts were quiet as well. In fact once he was able to properly think again he wasn't able to stop. The physical intimacy was there but naturally he couldn't help thinking of a more romantic and emotional intimacy. Maybe he was just too much of a sap and couldn't help it ( he supposed he at least had enough sense not to voice these thoughts. ) But Clark couldn't help thinking that this was something he could enjoy doing for a long time - not just the sex but the moments that came afterwards just between the two of them.

There were times when he could swear she had a small smile or let out a content sigh but to address such things almost seemed like taboo.

Pulling her closer against him slightly he pressed a kiss to her shoulder before allowing his head to fall back against the pillow. As invasive as his thoughts may be, Clark had to admit he still liked it best when he just let himself unwind and relax. Her presence was soothing if nothing else and for now he'd rather enjoy it than question it.