summon failed

anonymous asked:

Why would you want Lolu canon when Loke is a celestial spirit and Lucy is human? Doesn't sounds good for Lucy

Well, Natsu’s a demon, so it’s not like species should matter. Loke’s had relationships with humans before - hell, as far as we know, he’s still leaving the Celestial Realm to go on dates (since apparently he was on a date when Lucy failed to summon him in Edolas). I mean… the narrative obviously doesn’t care about whether Loke dates humans or not, so why should I?

It wouldn’t really function much differently from a long-distance relationship and, I mean, Loke’s going to live a long time, but then Zeref’s demons have a longer-than-average lifespan as well, so that’s debatably an issue with NaLu as well, and doesn’t really stop them from dating now.

On a more meta level, I picked LoLu because ideally there’d be no shipping within Team Natsu to expand on that whole “main characters in a show about friendship shouldn’t be lovers on principle” belief of mine, and Loke’s the only other character Lucy’s actually had any romantically coded moments with (the Loke arc, not Loke’s one-note flirting. You know, for a while I actually thought LoLu was going to be canon. hahahahahhahahaha-)


Lavender (a cat druid): *crit fails summoning bees*

DM: Your arms swell with the buzzing of thousands of bees. They’re magical, so they know not to sting you, but you can’t get rid of them and now your arm are swollen up with unreleased bees flying around in them.


This is during a very vicious basketball game that took up the entire session.

Fire and Infernal

For context, this is a 5e homebrew campaign. We’re a party of 7 including 2 tieflings (a bard and a warlock) and a satyr fighter. The tavern we had been staying in caught fire and burned down thanks to a failed demon summoning by an NPC, but luckily the whole party managed to get out. As we hunted in the wreckage for the inkeeper, who hadn’t got out in time, a bunch of city guards arrive.

DM: The guards quickly surround you, their spears aimed and ready to strike.

Satyr (OOC): Wait, do they think we did it?

Tiefling bard (OOC): Are you surprised, after you pulled out your flaming sword in the middle of the tavern?

Satyr (OOC): Nothing caught fire!

Human monk (OOC): Not then, it didn’t.

Tiefling bard: I take a step forward, hands up, and say “We didn’t cause this. The inkeeper is still-”

DM: As soon as you step forward, the Captain of the guard draws his sword and has it at your throat. The spears close around you.

Guard Captain (DM): I’ll have no excuses from you, demon child.

Tiefling warlock: *Lets out a snarling, furious torrent of improvised Infernal for a good 5 seconds*

Tiefling warlock (OOC): Shall I translate?

DM: …No, I think we get the gist of it.

We were arrested.


Summary: At their wedding, Yuuri spoke lovingly of how Victor had surprised him ever since day one - a day years ago, when Yuuri was young and Victor skating in the Junior World Championships.

Now, years later, Victor wonders what would happen if one day, he can no longer surprise Yuuri. 

For victuuri week day one (Victor: Surprises)

word count: 1k

read on ao3

“From day one, he never failed to surprise me,” Yuuri says into the microphone, his eyes soft, glancing at the Victor at his side before going back to surveying their guests. “Ever since I was little and I saw his Junior World Championships in Bulgaria. I fell in love with his skating then. It was beautiful, and every season was a new character he wore, a new surprise for the audience,” he chuckles, “The biggest surprise of them all, I suppose, was that moment in the onsen.”

Keep reading


I erected the temple
but the Goddess did not descend

She might have tried
but been lost in the roiling clouds
tossed to tumble by the harsh winds
that snapped the shafts
sending the pennons fluttering
into the boiling river
roaring through it’s narrow defile,

I lit the scented braziers
anointed my pride with oils
and prostrated myself
before her image
praying as fervently
as the last acolyte of a dreaming God,
seeking an ecstatic vision
to prove true devotion
can draw down the sacred

But the night is silent

Naked and unashamed
I have danced deep into darkness
before the altar
open to the gaze of the unworthy
seeing many moons
grow and then fade,
I offered my essence
in hopes of absolution
striving to show how deep
my belief in the higher goes
as the sacrament proferred
fell untouched over and over,

Or so I have begun to believe,
it is not a failure
on either parties part
that my summons have failed
to entice a union between
worship and desire,
Perhaps instead
I have invested too much
in a barren bleak place,
A place unworthy to receive her

It may be time
To move the temple

ok new thread describe your sincere 2017 naruto self insert

ill start , “ninja baker who works in making/developing portable snacks & meals, wind type (helps control air in the dough), summons beavers, failed chunin exams but cool w being a genin forever”

edit- teaching would also be good

Wait For It (M)

The last part of the series collaboration with @taesthetes and @optosomnio

Catalyst series: Seokjin / Yoongi / Hoseok / Namjoon / Jimin / Taehyung / Jungkook 

Kim Namjoon. 3 880-ish words. Mildly graphic smut. Demon AU.

At first sight, Kim Namjoon is a man you know not to fuck with. It’s not because of the perfectly tousled hair, the reflection dawned shoes, precisely tailored suit, and reeking professionalism that borderlines vanity. But then again, who wouldn’t have an ego the size of a sun when they’ve built an entire empire under the name of Kim Corps that made billions and known worldwide?

Filtered city lights splay over tangled sheets and stark limbs. Feather-like kisses upon shoulders, neck and that spot just under his ear that makes him go crazy. Bare chest pressed flush into his back, knowing what it does to him, knowing he can’t resist. Mellow lips draining away the last of his rationale and he almost, almost tells himself to fuck it, it’s just a company he built from scratch (plus with a bit of help from his fellow friends –tycoons actually– that aided him in giving him a jump start to his career –but yes, scratch).

Namjoon sighs, delighted or conflicted, he’s not so sure.

“Come back to bed, Joon.”

Keep reading

@ten-summoners-fails asked about my answers to a Fic Writers’ meme – thanks so much!!  :)

1. Describe yourself how you would describe a character you’re introducing.

Okay, putting a heavy emphasis on the “you’re” here, and well, my writing style is odd ;)

I watched the girl as our conversation progressed around her. She had an excess of cartilage: very long brown hair and long, thick fingernails (I would later find out this ran in the family), as well as a bulbous nose with the skin peeling. She kept curling and uncurling her fingers around her wrist, like fingering a toy recorder or measuring for a bracelet.

She smiled and nodded at all the right turns of chatter, but her laughter came belated. She was pleasant enough when spoken to, but there was an air of distance about her. I couldn’t tell if she was simple and shy or intelligent and aloof. 

She was pleasant enough when spoken to, sure - but I wasn’t sure what to say.

3. What is your absolute favorite kind of fic to write?

Character studies, hands down! I like to look at a specific moment in a character’s arc and explore the little pieces of their story that have led them there.

Non sequitir: I also really like being prompted or inspired by quotes.

9. Do you ever have plans to write anything other than fic?

I know this makes me a total outlier in the fanfic community, but - actually, no. I’ve had a few fleeting original novel ideas cross my mind, but nothing that gripped my imaginaton enough to make it worth the research. Tolkien’s world is such a huge sandbox, I’m perfectly content to keep playing in it :) 

19. Why did you start writing?

That’s a hard one! My whole life I’ve been writing and inventing stories. As kids, my sister and I had elaborate, ongoing pretend games based on my favorite books, and that ‘era’ had just come to an end when I discovered Tolkien and subsequently started writing fic. 

I guess my natural response to adoring a sub-created work is to start sub- sub-creating :) Today writing takes me back to the feeling of being that kid with the overactive imagination, which is a surprisingly fun place to be.

Thanks again for asking, and so sorry for the ramble!!

so like contrary to what might be popular belief summoning Penthesilea in Greece wouldn’t actually give her that power boost that Servants get from being summoned in their homeland. Modern day Greece isn’t her homeland. Penthesilea was actually born in what today is modern day Turkey, as that’s where the Thermodon River ( the Terme River as it’s called today ) and Themiscyra were located. Summoning her at the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus ( also in Turkey ) would give her a boost as well as her mother was the original creator of it. 

The only way she might be able to get a boost if she was summoned in Greece would be at one of her father’s temples / places sacred and or associated with him, such as the Areopagus in Athens. But if you just summon her in some random place in Greece sorry to disappoint you tried™ but nope doesn’t work.

Christmas Cookies - TJ Perkins Oneshot

Pairing: Reader x TJ Perkins

Word Count: 1,300

Warnings: None. Just a fluffy Christmas one-shot based on the prompt:  “The real question; is how many cookies, is too many cookies?”

Tagging as requested: @musicismylife120191

Author’s note: I’m also currently working on my Baron Corbin Christmas one-shot and *gasp* I have yet another Tom Phillips smut in the works. I don’t know when the later will be finished yet, though hoping to get it done before Christmas as well, but things are starting to get busier for me due to the holidays. As always Merry Christmas!!

Originally posted by itstjp

It was a universal truth that was acknowledged, (by me at the very least), that when it came to food and cooking, I was undoubtedly one of the laziest people on the planet. Or at the very least, very laid-back about the whole thing. A slow cooker was the epitome of my kitchen skills. Just chuck everything in and leave it to cook throughout the day.

Yet despite my distinct apathy towards cooking in general, every time Christmas rolled around, my inner Martha Stewart would emerge and you would be hard pressed to find me out of the kitchen. Whether it was Christmas pudding, chocolate bark, cookies and even the odd alcoholic treat, I made it all in my kitchen. I called it tradition. TJ called it an obsession. Still he wasn’t complaining when the time came to lick the spoon. He liked to pretend he shouldn’t and reject my offer, whenever I tried to hand him the batter covered utensil and I liked to pretend that I didn’t notice, every time he sneaked a taste straight from the bowl instead, despite his early protests about the matter.

However, TJ wouldn’t be sneaking a taste of anything right now. He had left earlier in the morning for a gym session, leaving me up to my arms in the beginnings of cookie dough and attempting to see, just how much flour I could spill everywhere. While I may have felt a little bit like Martha Stewart, I was no Martha Stewart and cooking properly only once a year left me at a bit of a disadvantage if I wasn’t paying careful attention.

I had made a lot of progress since TJ had left though. Various cookies were spread out on the counter to cool, as I swayed my hips to the Christmas songs playing from my phone, as I attempted to clean up after myself. The first chords of Rocking Around the Christmas Tree had just begun to fill the room and I was seriously considering singing out aloud, when I heard the tell-tale click of the front door, signalling TJ’S arrival.

“I’m in here” I called out to him, as I added far too much washing up liquid to the sink. I could hear him chuckling to himself as the sound of footsteps drew nearer.

“Have you even stopped since I’ve been gone?” he questioned, pausing in the doorway to examine my surroundings. His hair was wet, having obviously showered at the gym before leaving and his broad shoulders filled the kitchen doorway. His dark eyes were mischievous, as he first gazed at me and then the products of my baking spree.

“That is a lot of cookies. How many do we need?” he commented, obviously trying to sound disapproving but failing miserably, his tone of voice amused more than anything else.

“Eat” I commanded, purposely avoiding the question. I picked up what I knew to be his favourite flavour of cookie and waved it under his nose until he took it off me.

“The real question; is how many cookies, is too many cookies?” I pointed out as TJ chewed thoughtfully on the last bite of his cookie.

“Is this a rhetorical question?” he asked with a teasing grin.

“TJ!” I replied, flicking a couple of soapsuds from the sink at him. It only took him three long strides to reach my side. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pushed me forward, dangerously close to the soap filled and almost overflowing sink.

“Now do you really want to start this?” he whispered teasingly in my ear, his voice tickling over my skin and causing me to shiver. I tried to wriggle free, giggling to myself, as his hand trailed over my sides, using the knowledge gained over the course of our two year relationship, to hit every ticklish spot that I had.

“Stop that!” I scolded, trying to sound firm and serious, failing completely as I continued to laugh.

“I  don’t think I will” TJ responded with a laugh of his own, even as his hands stilled on my hips and pulled me back tight against his chest. I could feel his chest rumbling against my back as he chuckled to himself. Pinned between him and the edge of the counter, I was powerless to stop him as he reached forward to scoop up a handful of bubbles and pressed them gently to the side of my face. I squirmed in his grip.

“TJ, stop” I attempted again to scold. The feel of his lips pressing gently against the back of my neck, before laughing against my skin, informed me that, once again I had failed to summon up any kind of authoritative tone.

“And why should I?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice. In the background I could hear the current Christmas track fade away,  before the first strands of Have Yourself A Merry Christmas struck up.

“Because,” I began, an idea forming in my head. “I want you to dance with me instead”.

This time, TJ allowed me to spin around to face him and I reached for his hands.

“So dance with me” I ordered with a cheesy grin, pulling him away from the sink and to the centre of the kitchen.

“You are crazy” he commented with a grin, but was still quick to place his free hand onto my hip as he held me, the wetness from the soap soaking through my sweatpants. I barely noticed, as he begun to spin me slowly, Michael Bublé’s voice continuing to croon through the speakers of my phone.

TJ’s grip was gentle as we moved around the floor, only pausing when he chose to pull me closer to him, one strong arm wrapping around my waist. I let him lead, certain that his rhythm was probably better than mine. Up this close, I could see the beginnings of stubble on his face where he had yet to shave this morning and I resisted the urge to rub my face against the texture, knowing that I would live to regret it. Instead, I settled with pressing a kiss to his jawline, feeling the muscle twitch under my lips.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” TJ began to say. “Once this dance is over, those bubbles in the sink are still going to be there” he continued to point out to me, a mischievous grin ever present on his gorgeous face. I pouted slightly at his comment and poked him in the ribs in response, causing him to slightly shy away from my touch.

“Hey now, easy there sweetheart ” he replied, as he began to steer us back towards the sink, purposely spinning me to disorientate me. Brian Kendrick may well think he’s always the man with a plan, but I tended to disagree. Or at the very least, TJ knew me well enough, to know exactly how to get what he wanted from me. I was tempted to tell him that he wouldn’t dare, except I knew he would take that as some kind of challenge and instead resorted to poking him in the ribs again, muttering the word “Rude” under my breath. He responded by pulling me tight to him.

“Oh, I’m rude?” he chuckled, pinning my hands to my sides, as I attempted to poke him for the third time in a row. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, looking me in the eye.

“You little minx. Can’t keep your hands off me,” TJ paused mid-sentence to release one of my hands, so he could cup my chin, tilting my head back into a bruising kiss.

“Maybe I should be putting you on the naughty list this year instead”.

I laughed in response and looped my fingers around the band of his sweatpants.

“Maybe you should”.

anonymous asked:

Submitted for your approval: Ari is a very talented witch, able to cast spells and mix elixirs that were once thought lost to the hunger of The Old Ones. So, when she attempts to summon a demomonic dreadlord, she's a bit surprised to receive an imp named Gamzee instead.

“tfw u fail a summoning, but did u really fail bc u got a cute bf in the end??” the AU GGKNDKJDNGSG

tbh this is good u get my approval


May 9th

Summoning Day: Namira


Today is the summoning day of Namira, the Lady of Decay, the Great Darkness, the Spirit Daedra, ruler of sundry dark and shadowy spirits.


Have you ever felt like a fly on the wall? A small, insignificant, disgusting creature that others despise. Embrace it. It is the Dark Lady’s gift.


While most time it seems like a punishment, being that insect has its benefits. Namira is the patron of beggars, and She blesses Her beggar with three special gifts: disease, pity, and disregard. People find beggars revolting and avoid them at all costs. Yet, they feel sorry for them and their situation. This gives the beggar an advantage in their impoverished life. The beggar is able to become that fly on the wall, hidden in plain site as others disclose important information.


You see, beggars are the ears of Namira. Beggars hear all. And if beggars hear all, they know all. Knowledge is power, friends, and beggars can use this knowledge to their advantage.


The next time you feel left out, forgotten, thrown to the side…the next time you can’t help be feel like a dirty, little insect, just remember Wheedle, the beggar blessed by Namira. Remember the power a beggar can hold. Remember how, despite its small size, how much of a problem a fly can be. Remember that those flies can add up. How they swarm around the sweet honey-coated words rotten people say.


Namira has blessed Her beggars, and we are all beggars in this cruel, cruel world.