Venus

What Are You Listening To?

What Are You Listening To?

✨♡ Venus' Character Storage ♡✨

Mictēcacihuātl, Goddess of Death & the Underworld (Descension)

_{"Desde el día en el que nací, traigo la estrella que llevo. Sé que a nadie se la debo, y solo me protege a mí."}

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Marcela Alejandra Castillo 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 23-26 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Owner of Peaceful Rest Memorial Gardens Hitwoman of the Scarlet Dragon	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Loyal Passionate Strong-Willed 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Sardonic Arrogant Temperamental 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 To return to her beloved land of Mictlan, and hopefully be reunited with her husband Miclantecuhtl in some way or form. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 When your only fear becomes a reality, you don’t really lose sleep over anything else again. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Mictēcacihuātl 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Goddess of Death & the Underworld 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Aztec

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

In the Aztec pantheon, Mictēcacihuātl is the "lady of the dead." Along with her husband, Mictlāntēcutli, Mictēcacihuātl ruled over the land of Mictlan, the lowest level of the underworld where the dead reside. As their queen, she has the responsibility of guarding the bones of the dead and governing over their festivals. It is believed that she was born and sacrificed as an infant, grew up in the underworld and eventually became the mate of Mictlāntēcutli. Together, Mictlan’s rulers had power over all three types of souls dwelling in the underworld: those who died normal deaths, heroic deaths, and non-heroic deaths. In order for the deceased to be accepted into Mictlan, offerings to the lord and lady of death were necessary, and the worldly goods buried with the newly dead were intended to ensure their safety in the underworld.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

When Mictēcacihuātl and her husband were ripped away from their beloved Mictlan and banished to Earth to live as humans, they found themselves feeling confused and highly upset. Finding out that the culprit behind their misfortune was a mortal, however, only served to infuriate them further, and the couple went on a rage-fuelled killing spree that lasted nearly a decade. But they soon realized that no matter how many humans they slayed, it would not take them back to their domain, and they eventually resigned themselves to their new normal.

Of the two Aztec underworld rulers, Mictēcacihuātl was the one who took things more favorably. The young woman quickly molding herself to whichever new destination the Colossus was moved to, finding comfort in the presence of her husband. But Mictlāntēcutli despised their new reality. He resented being away from Mictlan, in cities with people he didn’t know and languages he couldn’t understand. The man grew more restless with each passing day, in a slow descent into the madness that would drive him to attempt his escape. He bid goodbye to his tearful, terrified wife with a strong embrace and a heated kiss, promising to come back for her before setting off into his voyage of freedom.

That was the last time Mictēcacihuātl ever saw her husband again.

When the Lady of the Dead received the news of Mictlāntēcutli’s passing, the inconsolable Mictēcacihuātl became a shadow of who she had once been. The spark in her brown eyes had disappeared, her smile was but a memory, and her once proud, arrogant demeanor was reduced to a shadow of itself. Grief had consumed her whole, tearing her down in ways she’d never thought possible. Finding nothing but pain in the sights of her fellow deities-- constant reminders of the love she had lost--, Mictēcacihuātl isolated herself from the world, opting to live as a hermit in the forests of whatever location the gods were sent to. For centuries, the Queen of the Aztec Underworld was not seen or heard of, and many assumed she had chosen to follow her husband into the afterlife.

They were wrong.

In the 1900’s, Mictēcacihuātl came back with a vengeance. The time away had served to harden her once-broken heart into steel, and had given her a new purpose for her existence. There was a lucrative business in the death industry, she quickly realized. Armed with this knowledge and her previous role in the Aztec underworld, Mictēcacihuātl invested the funds gained from her assassinations as the hitwoman of Bakunawa to commercialize death. Under the name Marcela Castillo, Mictēcacihuātl created Peaceful Rest Memorial Gardens: a company with nation-wide locations that provided beautiful, well-maintained spaces for buried or cremated souls to rest in peace. As expected, her business had taken off instantly, and had not seen a dip in revenue yet. Her role in the Seattle crime underworld certainly helped with that.

All in all, life was good for Marcela Castillo… If you pushed aside the drinking, prescription pills and night terrors, that is.

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

Mictēcacihuātl, Goddess of Death & the Underworld

_{"Desde el día en el que nací, traigo la estrella que llevo. Sé que a nadie se la debo, y solo me protege a mí."}

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Marcela Alejandra Castillo 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 23-26 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Owner of Peaceful Rest Memorial Gardens Hitwoman of the Scarlet Dragon	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Loyal Passionate Strong-Willed 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Sardonic Arrogant Temperamental 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 To return to her beloved land of Mictlan, and hopefully be reunited with her husband Miclantecuhtl in some way or form. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 When your only fear becomes a reality, you don’t really lose sleep over anything else again. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Mictēcacihuātl 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Goddess of Death & the Underworld 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Aztec

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

In the Aztec pantheon, Mictēcacihuātl is the "lady of the dead." Along with her husband, Mictlāntēcutli, Mictēcacihuātl ruled over the land of Mictlan, the lowest level of the underworld where the dead reside. As their queen, she has the responsibility of guarding the bones of the dead and governing over their festivals. It is believed that she was born and sacrificed as an infant, grew up in the underworld and eventually became the mate of Mictlāntēcutli. Together, Mictlan’s rulers had power over all three types of souls dwelling in the underworld: those who died normal deaths, heroic deaths, and non-heroic deaths. In order for the deceased to be accepted into Mictlan, offerings to the lord and lady of death were necessary, and the worldly goods buried with the newly dead were intended to ensure their safety in the underworld.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

When Mictēcacihuātl and her husband were ripped away from their beloved Mictlan and banished to Earth to live as humans, they found themselves feeling confused and highly upset. Finding out that the culprit behind their misfortune was a mortal, however, only served to infuriate them further, and the couple went on a rage-fuelled killing spree that lasted nearly a decade. But they soon realized that no matter how many humans they slayed, it would not take them back to their domain, and they eventually resigned themselves to their new normal.

Of the two Aztec underworld rulers, Mictēcacihuātl was the one who took things more favorably. The young woman quickly molding herself to whichever new destination the Colossus was moved to, finding comfort in the presence of her husband. But Mictlāntēcutli despised their new reality. He resented being away from Mictlan, in cities with people he didn’t know and languages he couldn’t understand. The man grew more restless with each passing day, in a slow descent into the madness that would drive him to attempt his escape. He bid goodbye to his tearful, terrified wife with a strong embrace and a heated kiss, promising to come back for her before setting off into his voyage of freedom.

That was the last time Mictēcacihuātl ever saw her husband again.

When the Lady of the Dead received the news of Mictlāntēcutli’s passing, the inconsolable Mictēcacihuātl became a shadow of who she had once been. The spark in her brown eyes had disappeared, her smile was but a memory, and her once proud, arrogant demeanor was reduced to a shadow of itself. Grief had consumed her whole, tearing her down in ways she’d never thought possible. Finding nothing but pain in the sights of her fellow deities-- constant reminders of the love she had lost--, Mictēcacihuātl isolated herself from the world, opting to live as a hermit in the forests of whatever location the gods were sent to. For centuries, the Queen of the Aztec Underworld was not seen or heard of, and many assumed she had chosen to follow her husband into the afterlife.

They were wrong.

In the 1900’s, Mictēcacihuātl came back with a vengeance. The time away had served to harden her once-broken heart into steel, and had given her a new purpose for her existence. There was a lucrative business in the death industry, she quickly realized. Armed with this knowledge and her previous role in the Aztec underworld, Mictēcacihuātl invested the funds gained from her assassinations as the hitwoman of Bakunawa to commercialize death. Under the name Marcela Castillo, Mictēcacihuātl created Peaceful Rest Memorial Gardens: a company with nation-wide locations that provided beautiful, well-maintained spaces for buried or cremated souls to rest in peace. As expected, her business had taken off instantly, and had not seen a dip in revenue yet. Her role in the Seattle crime underworld certainly helped with that.

All in all, life was good for Marcela Castillo… If you pushed aside the drinking, prescription pills and night terrors, that is.

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

balanced breakfast

_{ᴏᴅɪɴ's ʜᴊᴇᴍ}

sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғғ ʀɪɢʜᴛ

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••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Anyone who deemed breakfast as the most important meal of the day should be awarded a medal. That was some golden shit right there. Odin sat there tongue laving up his morning meal, on bent knees, haunches flexed under the strain of performing in such a position for extended periods of time. He wasn't as young and spry as he used to be, gods be damned. But with age comes experience; and no one could say that Odin didn't have plenty of experience.

Mind drifted for only a moment trying to register exactly how it was he came to be here on the floor in his kitchen, while his first love laid spread out like a morning buffet across the treated counter. He remembers dipping into his personal reserves, snatching up a few bottles, nothing new just feeling the need to unwind. Besides, who was anyone to stop him? Though the further he sank into the bottom of the bottle, ice cubes not even having a chance to melt and cut the drink, that was when roamed his penthouse reminiscing on the 'old times'; at least that's how he explained it to Freya in a text, summoning her asking her to come over. She was always one to take commands well.

He snapped back to the present, eyes closing at the taste of her on his lips, dripping down his chin onto the countertop. A high-pitched noise rang out through the apartment prompting him to stand finally, wiping his face with tongue and the back of his hand. A devious smirk sent her way as he took notice of the small tremors passing through her.

"Morning gorgeous." Two consecutive phone notifications sounded somewhere within the home, Odin's interest was on his own though that didn't stop the eye roll as he reached for it on the other side of the kitchen.

“Holy shit...”

To say that Freya had been surprised to receive Odin’s text message the night before would be an understatement. After their controversial break-up God knew how long ago, she had taken extraordinary measures to ensure that their interactions would either be avoided or kept to a minimum. For centuries, the Norse goddess had done her part: keeping her distance while mentally judging and crucifying the hell out of his questionable actions. But when her phone had lit up with his name on the screen the night before, she was back to being that starry-eyed, dumbstruck eighteen year-old girl who would drop everything to make sure her love was thoroughly satisfied. Sure-- she’d pretended to be annoyed to have been contacted out of the blue like this, and put on a rather convincing little act of sheer outrage. How did he have the nerve to even speak to her after what he’d done, what the hell did he want with her, what was the point of asking her over, and so on. But not even fifteen minutes later, Freya was on his lap with her dress pulled up to her midriff, and soon after their garments laid forgotten on the living room floor as the exes were passionately tangled up together, doing good on his promise of ‘reminiscing of the old days’. Their 'catching up' had kept them up in his bedroom until dawn, and had resumed in the kitchen after only a few hours of sleep.

“I have to admit it: you’ve still fucking got it, old man…” Freya confessed with a satisfied smile as she tried to catch her breath, her eyes shut and her voice still hoarse from earlier exclamations. He was great back during their first time together almost a lifetime ago in their beloved Asgard, when she was still nothing but a virginal maiden. And he was even better now, when they were both

Odin wore smug like it was tailored just for him. His eyes didn't stray too far from the beauty that is Freya, there was a reason she held domain over so many. "Well, this old man rocked your world not once, but twice," came his reply as he scoffed at the nickname she bestowed upon him. "And let us not forget your recent... reward for behaving all night," Odin took pleasure in reminding her of their recent encounter and watching the unbridled lust cloud her eyes as he did so. There was something about her that Odin couldn't find elsewhere. Something so obedient and pliable and raw. It's been difficult to replicate, but not impossible to replace -- his mind wandering to a certain charlatan. A specific someone flashing across his mind, a different head of dark locks trailing kisses like venom, scathing retorts falling from his mouth as they came together as only they could. Odin found the temperature of his skin rising with every heated thought as if fire ran through his veins. Odin turned from Freya, still catching her breath, and opened his messages making sure to send a quick something to the one occupying the forefront of his thoughts before opening and examining the Roman's email.

To: midnight trickster🗡️❤️
the rat poison was a nice touch. care to come over and try again? maybe grab some lunch before hand? neat trick by the way (:

"The 'King of Gods' has requested my appearance to a charity ball later this month? How unique of them. I'm sure you received the same invite." The tone that dripped from his lips was that of indifference. Balls and other charity events weren't his cup of mead. If anything the ones that were conducted in private back rooms with a glass of fine scotch or whiskey and thick cigar were more preferable. Even those of the rager variety caught his attention more than some stuffy waltz. Alas, the invite was sent to more than just the other Gods and therefore Arik Börson must make an appearance. Even if he was supposed to be retired.... Didn't he have upper management for shit like this?

“What are you talking about?” Freya asked curiously, finally finding the strength to slide off from the countertop and drag herself with shaky legs to where her purse waited in the living room. She plopped down on Odin’s couch, grabbed her bag and fished for her phone inside it. Eventually, she pulled out the device, unlocked it and quickly read through the email. “Huh. It looks like we are…” the brunette mused, tongue in cheek as she reread the invitation a few more times. “But an email invitation to a black tie event? That is so tacky. The Romans are usually so damn arrogant and far up their asses with most things, you would think Jupiter here would at least put a little more effort and send out actual paper invitations if the event’s as grand as he’s making it out to be.”

Odin already had some suspicion as to the original constructor behind the email, because like she pointed out, the Romans took pleasure in flaunting their status to everyone with an ear and eye to appreciate it. He scoffed instead in reply to her words, though agreed with them nonetheless. "Perhaps it was a fly of the cuff moment. One never can tell what goes on in the heads of the Romans. Least of all Jupiter." A scowl crossed his brow before he pressed on, no one seemed to understand the inner workings of Jupiter - not even his siblings were privy to that kind of knowledge. The wrinkles were gone as quickly as they appeared as he found himself opening the fridge and grabbing a decanter of orange and mango juice, pouring himself two glasses. Making his way towards her spot on his couch he extended one glass to her, "Her drikker du opp, drink up."

A beat passed as he drank his juice in peace, eyes refused to stray too long from the goddess sprawled out on his sofa sipping from the crystal clutched in her hand. From the expanse of her neck, down to her chest and then coming to rest on her legs. If there was one thing for certain Odin knew, it was that Freya was among the most beautiful of women to grace the sight of all. Snapping himself from his daydream of just hours past, he downed his drink clearing his throat breaking the ample silence that had fallen between them. There was hardly any room for idle chitchat to be had when it came to the two of them. "It was good seeing you again, gorgeous and while our evening, and breakfast were absolutely wonderful, I've got business to attend to. Du skal reise hjem og hvile, you should really go home and get some rest."

If the Freya of Asgard had been the one to find herself in this scenario, she would've been disappointed and hurt to realize she'd been treated as a booty call to merely satisfy her baby daddy's passing fancies. But the Freya that roamed the earth as Astrid Wexler knew better than that. She wasn't the same clueless young woman that had fallen in love with the Allfather all those centuries ago. Of course, that didn't mean she agreed with the haste with which she was being dismissed with. She hadn’t expected them to be all cuddles and sunshines and rainbows (especially considering this was the first time they had been alone together in a lifetime). But she definitely wasn’t expecting this kind of rushed goodbye, either. She took it all in stride, of course, and tried her best to be the better person in all of this. But for someone as petty as Freya, there was no chance of holding back from taking at least one jab at her ex.

"So after all the work I put in last night and earlier today, you mean to tell me I'm not even getting fed for it?" she asked, glaring up at him in a mock outrage that Odin would recognize as her sort of joking around with him. "You cheap old bastard."

Odin just chuckled at the biting banter she threw around so easily. They have had this kind of rapport since the fall. Times were rough until they rekindled in a way at that point in time. “If you really want some food you can always stop at McDonald’s on your way out?” The jab was all in jest a complete involuntary reaction to her, a testament of what she does to him. Drives him up the walls, and not always in the best of ways. Taking a few bills from his clip he waved them in the air to catch her attention before placing them on the countertop she was laying on just minutes before. “It’ll even be my treat. But I really do have other things to focus on this morning, so the sooner you get back home, the sooner I can get a start on my day.” As if on cue, Sága came trotting up to him, nuzzling his hand asking for her specially prepared breakfast before her routine walk. The Agouti husky turned her attention to the woman still seated on the couch as if she too were expecting her to get up and leave.

The mention of McDonald’s made Freya grimace, her beautiful face wrinkling up with disgust even if she knew that was Odin's way of clapping back at her joke. She had just looked up from her phone and opened her mouth to make some comment about how she would rather starve than eat McDonald's when, once again, the man emphasized his urgent need for her to leave his home, which only served to infuriate Freya even further.

“I heard you the first time, Grandpa. No need to rush me,” she grumbled, angrily rising from the couch and stomping to the mirror right next to the front door, promptly ignoring the money her ex had laid out for her… As if she'd been some escort he'd hired for the night and not the mother of his son and a woman he had once said to love.

Last night was a fucking mistake…

Freya scanned her reflection for a few seconds, taking in the evidence of the past night's sins: the tear tracks of black mascara running down her cheeks, the smudged eyeliner, the flushed cheeks and the remains of her liquid lipstick (which, considering how much her mouth had been put to use, had lasted a surprisingly long amount of time) before jumping straight into damage control. Without wasting any more time, the young woman wiped the mascara from her cheeks, hid the racoon eyes behind oversized Chanel sunglasses, reapplied her lipstick and ran her fingers through the mess that was her brown hair until it was presentable enough. Only after she was satisfied with the result did she turn back to Odin-- and although her scowl of annoyance was hidden behind the glasses, the venom in her words was certainly not to be missed.

“Not that there will ever be a next time-- but if there is, be enough of a gentleman to let me know exactly what time I need to be gone by instead of being an asshole and kicking me out like you just did. Though I know that ‘being a gentleman’ is asking way too much of someone like you,” she spat, squaring her shoulders while turning the knob of the front door and swinging it open. “Oh, and keep your goddamn money to yourself. I'm not some cheap whore you picked up on the side of the road, and I certainly didn’t fuck you for the cash. I can take very good care of myself. And while you're at it? Do us both a favor: get your phone, lose my number, and go be a patronizing dick to someone else. Believe me: I am not the one you want to mess with again.”

And with one last glorious display of a pink-manicured middle finger in the air towards her ex, Freya turned on her heel and stormed out of the penthouse, making sure to loudly slam the door behind her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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_{collab: @KZOMBI3 mentions: @fledermaus}

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

_{A @Venus & @metanoia Collaboration}

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For several months, a certain Norse God had been moonlighting as what most have called “The Hooded Man”. In his neighborhood and those that surrounded where he lived, The Hooded Man was something of a myth. His identity hasn’t been uncovered by nobody, not the police that swore to protect the city from scum that threaten its safety, not the lawyers who were supposed to keep those locked up, and not the media who don’t care unless their politicians pay them to care.

Indeed, Thor’s midnight activities were out of his love for those without the benefit of being privileged and rich.

As much as he was devoted to his day job, which involved doing what he did at night but with more legality attached to it, he felt it wasn’t enough and it wouldn’t be as long as the mafia kept a presence in the city. So, whenever he saw a chance, Thor seized the night for himself and protected those who needed his help.

As it just so happened, however, his “help” took him away from a relaxing night spent with a certain someone who, by all rights, should have been more important than the call he received from one of his clients. Thor did what he could but now he had the most dangerous task a man like him in his situation could ever have--

Sneaking back in and hoping he didn’t wake up the only other person who the criminals feared more than The Hooded Man.

The creaking sound of a front door being carefully opened and closed gently coaxed Themis away from her slumber. The blonde’s eyelids fluttered for a few seconds, slowly adjusting themselves to the brightness in the small bedroom before ultimately opening up in greeting to the new day. After a moment of allowing her body to begin the process of waking, the young woman slowly propped herself up into a seating position, but immediately regretted her decision as that strong wave of nausea and dizziness that had been plaguing her for nearly a month now struck again. Grimacing and groaning softly, Themis closed her eyes and allowed her head to gently fall backwards onto the pillow again.

Walking down the hallway that led to his bedroom, Thor was hoping to sneak back into bed, maybe catch an hour or two of sleep, but he noticed Themis was up and she somehow looked worse than the drug dealer he caved into the ground looked. “You’re up early. Today’s your day off, isn’t it? Go ahead and go back to sleep if you want to!” Thor’s hope was that his encouragement would work so he could get a few extra hours himself, or, ya know, just a few hours in general.

"If only your bedroom wasn't as bright as it is…" the woman grumbled, finding the strength in Thor’s presence to successfully pull herself up into that seating position she had attempted before. "Thor, darling: have you ever considered investing in some blackout curtains? They do wonders for your beauty sleep."

He scoffed jokingly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, in front of Themis. “But I look just fine!” He joked, knowing that how he looked and how he felt were complete strangers to each other. “Besides, it’s not normally this bright in Seattle. Usually you get woken up to a majestic family of clouds that let the sun peak through just enough to light up the room. It’s part of the reason I made this room my bedroom.”

"And the main reason why I adore the Seattle weather: the cool, cloudy days, with the near-daily rainfall and thunderstorms. It definitely beats the time where we lived in Istanbul," she admitted, grimacing at the vivid memory of the despicable heat of the turkish city.

“That’s another thing we can agree on,” he said, smiling at Themis, in hopes that his pearly whites, which thankfully weren’t harmed last night, would bring her some form of comfort. She appeared to be in dire need of it. “I much prefer the cool breeze of a spring morning than being in the dry, sickly heat. It makes me fortunate in these times where we must live in Midgard that we do so in a place with a versatile touch of Freyr. Without him, it’ll be Istanbul worldwide,” The thought of that made him want to cringe.

“Oh, God. That sounds like a nightmare…” Themis groaned, cringing hard at the thought of having to live in a world where there was no need for warm sweaters, hot drinks or cozy blankets. The subject, however, brought a question to the forefront of her mind-- especially when taking into consideration her host’s choice of wardrobe. “Where were you, anyway? It was the sound of the front door what woke me,” she told him, scooting closer to Thor’s imposing figure to affectionately wrap her arms around him, resting the side of her face against his broad back.

He knew what the easy answer to her question was: just saying that he was kicking the face of drug dealers into the pavement. But to say that would have to admit to, of all people, the ADA, that you, a guy who gets hired to protect people, was out breaking the law. Granted, it was a lot of fun and Thor really enjoyed the feeling when his fist cracks the jaw of scumbags who sell dimebags to kids. But, given how out of whack Themis looked, that news would most likely worsen her condition (he was assuming).

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I had to run and do a few early morning errands. One of my guys screwed up some of the paperwork for one of our clients and I had to deal with it.” Truth was that did happen...last week. “I did go by the bakery around the corner and picked a few bagels. If you think you’re feeling well enough to eat, their everything bagel is better than anything in the city.”

Although she was still feeling off, the mention of food made Themis’ stomach grumble. She unentangled herself from Thor and was about to stand up when a blip from her phone alerted her to a new notification. Curious, the woman grabbed the device from where it had been resting on the nearest nightstand, unlocked it, and opened the email. The sender was Jupiter from the Roman pantheon, extending an invitation to a black tie event in fourteen days' time. Upon scanning the recipient list, Themis noticed the message had been sent to all gods and goddesses of every pantheon present on Earth.

"So apparently Jupiter's inviting us to a ball in two weeks?" the blonde announced, looking up at Thor with a dubious frown. "I'm not sure if it's a wise idea considering how... confrontational the conclave was. Or at least that's what Bastet told me, anyway." From the way tensions had built up and boiled over at the Seattle Library a few days previously, Themis was certainly not sorry that her illness and the return of the jury with the veredict for her case had caused her to miss the event.

Thor nodded, confirming he heard about how eventful the Conclave was. Part of him dreaded hearing from Morrigan about missing it but he had better things to do-- or rather, better faces to punch. But the issue of Jupiter’s black tie party hung over his head like a rain cloud he didn’t have any hand in creating. “Well, Jupiter has never been known for being wise. All of that money has to compensate for something, right?” Thor forced himself to laugh before letting out a sigh. “But I guess it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t show up. Maybe I can trash his place at some point. I’m sure that’ll be fun.”

"Thor--" came Themis' stern voice, although her tone was accompanied by a small smile. "I thought we had agreed on no more fighting? That you would be on your very best behavior?"

“Only when it came to starting fights, but the second I get provoked, there’s no way I’m leaving it unfinished.” Again, another forced laugh came from his lips, while Themis continued to smile as she shook her head. “Anyway, what do you think? Are you going to bother attending? You Greeks are pretty anti-Roman, aren’t you?”

"Honestly? I could care less about what pantheon anyone belongs to as long as they're good, decent people," she said matter-of-factly with a small shrug. "But I will say that I haven't got the slightest bit of interest in attending that ball. There are some wounds better left untouched for a while, and some faces better left unseen in order for oneself to truly heal from secrets, lies and betrayal." She was, of course, referring to the painful event that had led her to the arms of the man now sitting in front of her.

By this point, he turned to face her. “I understand not wanting to be among certain companies. I’m fairly certain there are a few who would be in their happiest mindsets if neither one of us showed up, but why give them that satisfaction?” His question was rhetorical as he continued, “The way I see it is this is the perfect opportunity to cast waves. But if it makes you feel better, if they start trouble, I’ll just beat the ever living daylights out of anyone who gives you or I the wrong look.” He desperately wanted to be given an excuse to kick some ass in the house of the Romans.

"Admit it, Thor: you just want an excuse to pull out that hammer of yours and go apeshit bashing people's skulls in," Themis said with a good-natured laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek before resting her chin on his shoulder. "We both know you could care less about any sort of opinion these individuals may have of you. It's the fighter in you the one who's begging to be let out of the cage again."

“Who says I need my hammer?” He laughed, letting a moment pass before addressing the other thing she correctly pointed out. “I won’t lie to you: I would give justice to those who escape it. There’s a part of me that wishes it was Istanbul again where I was free to fight until my heart’s content, but I know in this…progressive society, that’s considered to be a crime. It’s part of my reason why I started Heidrun. It’s why I do what the biased police around here refuse to do. It’s not a lot and I wish I could just wind back time, but it’s all I can really do.”

"There's a saying I like to keep at the forefront of my mind in regards to my livelihood: rules are the only thing that separates us from the animals," the woman mused, staring out into the open bedroom window for a second before turning her warm, hazel eyes in his direction. "And as an ADA, it is my duty to justly enforce these laws to the best of my ability. But I'm not oblivious to the fact that we live in a world where most things belong to a shade of gray, and are not simply black or white. And when I'm unable to carry out justice to the lengths it deserves to be, I'm glad we have you to finish the job. No guilty party will go unpunished by us. It's why we make such a great team."

He just sat there, looking at her, hearing what she had to say about...well, everything. About how she, an ADA of all people, was admitting the system wasn’t perfect; about how she,the ADA, didn’t outright condemn someone like him expressing a desire to sometimes take justice into his own hands. It made him feel validated. And not just because of his nightly activities. In all the time he had known Themis, of course, he knew why he was so attracted to her. She appealed to a lot of his ideals and, let’s face it: she’s heavenly, too. But it was also about what she represented, and how that part of him that wanted to protect those in need of it aligned with her desire to deliver justice to those who deserve it.

“I knew there was a reason why we always found our way back to each other.” He found himself admitting, cracking both a smile and a laugh. He took her hands into his. “I hope you know this is why I love you. Your ability to stand firm on what you believe in but also not shy to admit that sometimes personal justice can be an option is why we’ve always stayed connected throughout the centuries.”

"So you only love me for my morals? How utterly boring," she joked, the corners of her mouth curling upward with the hint of a playful smile and her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Come on now, Themis,” Thor spoke as his hand left hers and firmly grabbed her thigh. He massaged it as he gently kissed her. Whether or not she was feeling good, Thor loved her regardless. “It goes without saying I have a deep fondness for more than just your morals-- as I’m sure you adore me for more than just my honor code.” He leaned in for another kiss, leaving out the gentleness this time.

“I mean, I won’t lie: those muscles of yours certainly help your case,” she teased, suggestively wiggling her eyebrows at Thor before letting out a giggle and returning his kiss with that level of passion and enthusiasm only he brought out of her.

The God of Thunder’s lips curled into a confident smile and he let his hands explore her legs some more. “What evidence do you have to back this up, counselor? The Jury would love to know.” Thor traced his arms from her legs to her lower back, gently tugging Themis closer to him so her...evidence could be presented to the court.

Themis' laugh echoed across the room-- a sound as bright as the rays of light peeking through the clouds outside. "If I present my facts to the court, then I risk everyone else falling in love with you too," she explained, standing up just long enough to take a seat in his lap and wrapping her arms around him once more. "I can't take that risk... I don't want to lose you," the blonde admitted, and the unexpected honesty and vulnerability of her statement forced Themis to bite her lower lip and avert her eyes.

And that was the last thing he expected to see; for her to speak so earnestly and truthfully. He was expecting some kind of comment about his muscles, some innuendo about other parts of his body -- maybe with a reference to Mjölnir. But to his genuine surprise, she chose a road that he often found himself wanting to go down as well. Still, part of his astute mind that always was wondering about what might happen next.

Following that mindset, he brought one arm from behind her back, raising it up to her chin, and grasped it gently, hoping this gesture would encourage her to allow her eyes to follow his voice. “And I don’t want to lose you either.” His voice was low and their opposing cheeks touched as he felt the warmth of her skin, subtle shocks of static electricity traveling from his being to hers.

She gently rested her forehead against his, finding comfort in his warmth and their physical contact. Even though Themis was certain his intentions were honest and true, a part of her begged for the verbal reassurance of what she knew in her heart. "I love you, Thor. I love you so, so much. Just… Please don't break my heart…" she whispered, leaning back just enough to look up at him with scared, pleading eyes.

It was in that moment that both of them knew what this moment represented. It wasn’t the admissions of deep adoration they held for each other for centuries nor the years of times they’ve remained as more than just friends but never crossing the invisible line drawn in the sand. No, it wasn’t about either of those things but rather about this moment being the true test of what exactly meant most to them. Thor knew this and it was confirmed to him, just now, that she knew it too. As sure as he was that Themis, proud Greek Goddess and ADA of King’s COunty, was scared shitless out of her mind, fearful of something far worse than an irreversible death, so was Thor of the fact that what he said right now would change the entire dynamic of their relationship -- the dynamic that, up until this point, had always been a casual friends with benefits arrangement. But something had changed and Thor couldn’t push it aside any longer. It was now or never.

So the God of Thunder surrendered himself entirely to the moment and locked eyes with Themis in his best attempt to give her the confirmation she needed. “On my honor as a God of Asgard and as a man who has always loved you: I will never break your heart, Themis, and there’ll never be a day where my love for you wanes.” He pulled her into a tight hug for the extra reassurance he couldn’t help but feel they both needed.

The insecurities, uncertainties, doubts and even the illness she'd been battling against, was momentarily forgotten as Themis allowed herself to get wrapped up and lost in Thor's strong, loving embrace. His arms had always felt like home to her-- providing her with a peace and sense of security she hadn't experienced before. Themis felt unconditionally loved and safe with Thor, resting easy knowing that even if the world around them was suddenly on fire, he would rather die than let a single flame touch her.

Once their embrace had come to an end, Themis gently took Thor's face in her hands. Their eyes met for a moment, forest green with stormy blue, before she made the promise that would seal their fates together forever.

"And you will have me… Until my last, dying breath..." the goddess swore to her lover, letting her ageless promise hang in the air before pulling Thor into the brazen kiss that would lead them to passionately come together as one.

Project Untamed

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The argument with Leo had only served to further aggravate Soleil's rotten mood. While the rest of her classmates were starting to make their arrivals to the party downstairs, Shady was still lying in bed, staring daggers at the ceiling of her empty bedroom as if it was personally responsible for her suffering. Since they had known each other, Sol and Leo had gone through their fair share of 'confrontations', which mostly consisted of petty arguments over menial shit that were quickly forgiven and forgotten. However, this one felt different. Maybe it was because of the words exchanged, or because she knew that deep down they both meant what they had said. Either way, the clash had left the green-eyed girl's stomach bubbling with guilt and regret. No matter what negative thing she or any other person said about him, Leo Brooks was still her best friend. The last thing she wanted after this incident with Teddy was to lose another person she deeply cared about.

After a few more minutes of moping around feeling sorry for herself, Soleil decided to channel her feelings into something more productive. She quickly jumped up from the bed, changed into athletic wear, put on her wireless earphones and headed straight to her happy place. In no time, the sound of strong punches coming into contact with a heavy punching bag would fill the otherwise silent gymnasium.

✨♡ Venus' Character Storage ♡✨

Freya, Goddess of Sex & Lust (Descencion)

I'm your dream girl. This is real love. But you know what they say about me...
"That girl is a problem."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Astrid Renee Wexler 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 21 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Socialite & Ex-Sugar Baby	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Flirtatious Passionate Captivating Affectionate 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Conceited Manipulative Self-Centered Temperamental 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 To carry on living her life indulging in all of her favorite things: sex, money and luxury. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 To fall in love and expose her vulnerability to the wrong person, and/or to stop being desired by mortals and deities alike. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Freja 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Goddess of Sex & Lust 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Nordic

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

From the beginnings of time and the universe, Freya has been considered one of the preeminent goddesses of the Nordic pantheon. She is well known for her deep fondness of sex, beauty, and fine material possessions, and for being a passionate seeker of carnal pleasures and thrills. But there is more to Freya than just being the most notorious party girl of the Æsir. She is the archetype of the völva, and the one responsible for bringing this art of organized Norse magic to humans and the rest of the gods. And given her expertise in controlling and manipulating the desires, health, and prosperity of others, she’s a being whose knowledge and power are almost without equal.

But not everything in Freya’s life had gone as she would have liked it to. There was an incident many centuries ago, involving her, Loki, and her once dearly beloved Odin. And at the root of it all was a beautiful golden necklace: the cursed piece of jewelry that had ultimately cost the goddess her relationship with the all-father of the Norse pantheon (if it could even be called that).

After that unfortunate event, Freya had promised four things to herself: she would carry on with her existence free of any romantic ties and concerns about other people’s opinions, she would never fall in love again, never put herself in such an open, vulnerable position again, and never, ever, ever take orders from any man _{fuck you, Odin; and fuck you too, Loki}. From that point on, she set out the quest to live her life as the puppeteer instead of the puppet- the most skilled, valuable player instead of the game itself.

She would never be humiliated like that again.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

Even as a mortal, Freya continued to live under the same carefree philosophy she’d adopted as a goddess. In order to fund the lavish lifestyle she adored so much and had grown accustomed to, she took on numerous identities throughout the decades, using her godly powers to seduce rich, attractive men out of their wealth. The young woman was gifted designer clothing, expensive jewelry, fancy cars, luxury real estate, and exotic vacations on the regular in exchange for her company-- which to her was definitely a fair, worthy trade. By the time 2020 came around, Freya had amassed enough wealth to live comfortably for a few years without having to pull her usual tricks, so she decided it was time for a break. She had plenty of men to keep her other needs satisfied (especially the one Roman god currently living one floor underneath her in the same apartment building, but that’s neither here nor there).

✨♡ Venus' Character Storage ♡✨

Themis, Goddess of Divine Law & Order (Descension)

T H E M I S , G O D D E S S O F D I V I N E L A W & O R D E R
T H E M I S , G O D D E S S O F D I V I N E L A W & O R D E R

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Amanda Isabella Woodall 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 28 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Kings County Homicide ADA	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Eloquent Confident Determined 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Distant Arrogant Indifferent 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 Continue to utilize the law in order to seek justice for homicide victims and their loved ones. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 Themis fears failure, and the feeling of losing control. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Themis 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Goddess of Good Counsel, Divine Law & Order 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Greek

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

Long before there was an Amanda Woodall roaming the streets of Seattle, there was Themis: the Titan goddess of divine law and order. During her time as a Titan Goddess, Themis served a fair amount of roles. Firstly, she enforced the traditional rules of conduct first established by the gods. She also served as Zeus’ first counsellor, and was often found seated beside his throne advising him on the precepts of divine law and the rules of fate (much to the chagrin of his wife and lovers). In addition, Themis possessed the power of prophecy, which allowed her to preside over the most ancient oracles (including Delphi). Thanks to her knowledge of both human nature and the nature of human society (and the prophecy powers previously mentioned), she was able to predict the outcome of any struggle. Finally, she served as the divine voice who first instructed mankind in the primal laws of justice and morality.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

As Amanda Isabella Woodall, Themis utilized her prophetic powers and knowledge of the law and her abilities of good counsel to serve mortals as an assistant district attorney wherever she could practice it. Her career was her life: the one place in which she found herself feeling in the zone. But no matter how many hours she spent in between case files inside her office at whatever city she was in, there was a feeling of emptiness that Amanda hadn’t found a way to fill. The answer came after a celebratory post-court drink at a Washington bar, in the form of a 40 year-old mortal called Benjamin Cross.

The two had fallen in love instantly. It was a heated, torrid affair, followed by a quick engagement and an even quicker wedding. But life had a funny way of throwing curveballs at the most unexpected of times. While her professional career continued to be on the fast track, the young ADA’s personal life had taken a turn for the worst. The differences that had once drawn her and her husband together had become a source of discord, and the pair was going about it in completely different ways. Amanda had buried herself in her work, focusing her frustrations and regrets about marrying a mortal on bringing criminals to justice. Meanwhile, Benjamin had found solace in isolation and the bottle once again, his moods fluctuating between drinking until losing consciousness and seeming like he was getting better, only to fall right back down again. The periods in between the icy silences and heated arguments became shorter and shorter, until the feuding couple had finally collided in the quarrel that had irrevocably torn apart their marriage. That same night, Benjamin had packed his bags. And by the end of that week, all traces of his existence in the apartment he and Amanda had shared had been erased. Thankfully, the Colossus had been moved a month later, forcing her to relocate. The distance between Benjamin and Amanda made the divorce process easy, quick and without conflict.

After the demise of her marriage, Amanda threw herself into her career with a vengeance. In no time, she had made a name for herself in the Kings County courthouse system: with a conviction rate of 95%. This came at a cost that she was able to comfortably afford: closing herself off to any further attempts at romance or falling in love. The fresh wound and the fear of another failed relationship effectively kept her focused on what truly mattered: law, order and justice.

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

Freya, Goddess of Sex & Lust

I'm your dream girl. This is real love. But you know what they say about me...
"That girl is a problem."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Astrid Renee Wexler 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 21 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Socialite & Ex-Sugar Baby	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Flirtatious Passionate Captivating Affectionate 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Conceited Manipulative Self-Centered Temperamental 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 To carry on living her life indulging in all of her favorite things: sex, money and luxury. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 To fall in love and expose her vulnerability to the wrong person, and/or to stop being desired by mortals and deities alike. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Freja 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Goddess of Sex & Lust 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Nordic

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

From the beginnings of time and the universe, Freya has been considered one of the preeminent goddesses of the Nordic pantheon. She is well known for her deep fondness of sex, beauty, and fine material possessions, and for being a passionate seeker of carnal pleasures and thrills. But there is more to Freya than just being the most notorious party girl of the Æsir. She is the archetype of the völva, and the one responsible for bringing this art of organized Norse magic to humans and the rest of the gods. And given her expertise in controlling and manipulating the desires, health, and prosperity of others, she’s a being whose knowledge and power are almost without equal.

But not everything in Freya’s life had gone as she would have liked it to. There was an incident many centuries ago, involving her, Loki, and her once dearly beloved Odin. And at the root of it all was a beautiful golden necklace: the cursed piece of jewelry that had ultimately cost the goddess her relationship with the all-father of the Norse pantheon (if it could even be called that).

After that unfortunate event, Freya had promised four things to herself: she would carry on with her existence free of any romantic ties and concerns about other people’s opinions, she would never fall in love again, never put herself in such an open, vulnerable position again, and never, ever, ever take orders from any man _{fuck you, Odin; and fuck you too, Loki}. From that point on, she set out the quest to live her life as the puppeteer instead of the puppet- the most skilled, valuable player instead of the game itself.

She would never be humiliated like that again.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

Even as a mortal, Freya continued to live under the same carefree philosophy she’d adopted as a goddess. In order to fund the lavish lifestyle she adored so much and had grown accustomed to, she took on numerous identities throughout the decades, using her godly powers to seduce rich, attractive men out of their wealth. The young woman was gifted designer clothing, expensive jewelry, fancy cars, luxury real estate, and exotic vacations on the regular in exchange for her company-- which to her was definitely a fair, worthy trade. By the time 2020 came around, Freya had amassed enough wealth to live comfortably for a few years without having to pull her usual tricks, so she decided it was time for a break. She had plenty of men to keep her other needs satisfied (especially the one Roman god currently living one floor underneath her in the same apartment building, but that’s neither here nor there).