Dante The Pyro

Ask/RP account. Read Bio and Rules before Role Playing. 18+. Hopeless bisexual.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

( @behind-every-mask )

Looking up, Dante smiled at the Sniper, noting the change in demeanor. He began to wonder how he had missed the attractive, yet steely gaze he donned.

Standing, Dante approaches Oliver, resolve in his eyes. “There’s a bar in town I’ve been wanting to check out. I wouldn’t mind if you came along.”

He hoped it didn’t sound too forward, knowing that it had been quite a short time since they had sat on the roof earlier that night. He especially hoped he didn’t sound desperate. If there was anything he hated being, it was desperate.

[behind-every-mask]

Oliver slowly lifted his head to look at his teammate; his eyes were still glassy,

"I wouldn't mind taggin' along either. If this ends up bein' not too laborious maybe we can run off sooner." His voice and his face were completely opposite from each other. His face was cold but his voice was warm. It was odd to see such a drastic difference at the same time on the same person.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante’s shoulders fell slightly, the only sign he finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A warm smile fell on his lips.

“That sounds great! Maybe we won’t miss happy hour.”

It wasn’t often Dante felt nervous, so the fact that he was feeling butterflies in stomach was surprising to him. Pushing the revelation out of his mind, he strapped his axe to his side, the familiar weight of it a comfort.

As more members trickled in, he was torn between staying close to the sniper, or going back to his spot on the couch. After a moment of consideration, he stayed by Oliver, hoping he didn’t find Dante to be clingy.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

( @behind-every-mask )

Looking up, Dante smiled at the Sniper, noting the change in demeanor. He began to wonder how he had missed the attractive, yet steely gaze he donned.

Standing, Dante approaches Oliver, resolve in his eyes. “There’s a bar in town I’ve been wanting to check out. I wouldn’t mind if you came along.”

He hoped it didn’t sound too forward, knowing that it had been quite a short time since they had sat on the roof earlier that night. He especially hoped he didn’t sound desperate. If there was anything he hated being, it was desperate.

[toxiccaves]

fun on the mystery island tour!

[cryophase]

here’s some more Kriegs from a while back

[justafewocprompts]

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[stillfuckinbetterthanyou]

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Please and thank you. <3

[rpmememaker]

Tell my muse a NSFW rumor you’ve heard about them.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

( @behind-every-mask )

Pursing his lips, Dante grabbed another mug and quickly filled it with coffee, handing it to the sniper.

“Milk? Sugar? Are you hungry?”

Dante knew the look of someone haunted by something all too well, it was a look he used to wear. A look his mom used to wear.

Without waiting for an answer, Dante turned on the stove and put a pan on the burner. Grabbing some eggs, he cracked them into a bowl, promptly beating them. Quickly he chopped up some onions, tomatoes, red and green bell peppers, and some cheese. Grabbing a tortilla, he placed it in the pan, followed by pouring in the eggs, chopped veggies, and cheese. When it was ready, he folded the bottom a quarter of the way up before folding it into thirds to make a breakfast burrito. Putting it on a plate, he handed it to Oliver, concern on his face as he turned the stove off.

“Eat. You’ll feel better.”

[behind-every-mask]

"I'm fine, really! It's nothin' t' worry about. Like I said, it's restin' tired face." He leaned against the counter, setting the plate beside him, "I'm alright." Oliver took a long drink then set the cup down.

"But thanks," Oliver nodded slightly to the plate before beginning to eat silently, "I usually don't eat 'til lunch."

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante scowled playfully, finally fixing himself up his coffee. Making himself the same meal he had served Oliver, he glanced back at the sniper.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, amigo. Or did they stop teaching that while I was in hiding, hm?”

Picking up the breakfast burrito straight from the pan with his bare hands, Dante bit into it, leaning against the counter. It had been a while since he last made a meal for someone. Especially out of concern for their wellbeing. Shaking his head of the memories, Dante began loading pan, cutting board, bowl, and knife into the sink while still holding his breakfast.

Dante knew something was wrong with Oliver, but clearly he wasn’t going to just offer up the information. Deciding to share his own demons, he hoped that maybe Oliver would feel comfortable with opening up.

“In Mexico, they called me El Monstruo de Fuego, or the Monster of Fire. But they also called me El Ángel Llameante. The Flaming Angel. I don’t know which one fits more. Probably the first one.”

Subconsciously Dante scratched at his left side as he spoke, as if he could still feel the memory of him carrying a small child to safety.

“I had a sister. A long time ago. Some people, you really didn’t mean to hurt.”

Falling silent, Dante, turned away subconsciously, hiding his disfigured face.

[behind-every-mask]

"Pfft-" Oliver almost choked on his coffee, "I think El Ángel Llameante fits better." The Aussie absolutely butchered the pronunciation but he gave it a good try; his heavy accent betrayed him when it came to other languages.

"Hurtin' people is part of life, whether ya mean to 'r not. Havin' hurt people shouldn't be eatin' up your life even if that hurt was irreversible." Oliver half mumbled most of his words, cutting himself off by eating once again.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante nodded solemnly.

“I was called a monster by the police and the news. I was called an angel by those I saved. I lost track of how many men I killed. How many times I killed my father over and over again in my fire.”

Taking the last bite of his breakfast burrito, Dante wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“For years I terrorized men like my father up and down Mexico.”

Looking up, Dante’s eyes were filled with a mix of hatred and regret.

“Am I an angel for saving all those children from their fathers? Or am I a monster for killing the dozens upon dozens of humans?”

Looking at Oliver full on, Dante expression held every bit of grief, confusion, and desperation he was feeling.

“Am I a monster for wanting to go back and do it all a hundred times over again? That is what pains me. At what point am I no longer saving people, and instead becoming exactly what I’m trying to destroy?”

[behind-every-mask]

Oliver stared at the wall as he spoke. He had a look in his eyes, a look the rest of the team hadn't seen before, "If doing it again would save people more than hurt people than I'd do it again. Some people deserve the fate they get. If people can't see the consequences of their choices, if they can't see what others may do in retaliation, then they deserve to damn themselves into a prison cell or the box they're buried in." The Sniper's voice shifted into a serious and a little bit frightening tone; slightly rougher than usual, from the back of his throat.

"'m not a fan of people. They step on each other just to get that little bit further. Tearing down each other, stabbin' each other in the back, they'll put on a mask in front of others; actin' one way in front of others and different in front of you." Oliver closed his eyes and paused, the only movement was his chest as he breathed,

"Everything has consequences. Wonderin' what to do will just waste the time you could've used actin'." The Sniper stood up from the counter, presumably to leave the kitchen.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante nodded, deep in thought. After refilling his coffee, he went to his room where a single teddy bear lay on his bed.

“Si realmente fuera tu héroe, entonces tal vez pueda perdonarme a mí mismo.” (If I really was your hero, then maybe I can forgive myself)

The teddy bear was old and tattered, one of the eyes had fallen off ages ago. It was given to him as a thank you from a young boy, who suffered from a father who took his anger out on his family. After all these years Dante could never forget the face of that boy. He never learned the name of him, but Dante made sure to take good care of the stuffed animal.

Sighing, Dante stretched, going about his morning routine of warming up. When he was done, he grabbed his axe and headed to the main room to wait for everyone else as he sharpened his axe to a deadly point. As he did, he tried to figure out what to say to Oliver when he came back. He hoped to maybe take him out to the town for some drinks and talk, but he wasn’t sure if that was too forward.

[naughtyandnicerpmemes]

This account is run by a very nervous mun who is more scared of you than you are of them.

[lannasroleplaymemes]

Go into my inbox and give your best shot at seducing my Muse.

[doubleoh--no-deactivated2013111]

Can you reblog if you don't mind me coming into your ask ic, even if we've got a thread?

[imoved5643347-deactivated201510]

The person I reblogged this from has a quality blog and I recommend you all follow them

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

( @behind-every-mask )

Pursing his lips, Dante grabbed another mug and quickly filled it with coffee, handing it to the sniper.

“Milk? Sugar? Are you hungry?”

Dante knew the look of someone haunted by something all too well, it was a look he used to wear. A look his mom used to wear.

Without waiting for an answer, Dante turned on the stove and put a pan on the burner. Grabbing some eggs, he cracked them into a bowl, promptly beating them. Quickly he chopped up some onions, tomatoes, red and green bell peppers, and some cheese. Grabbing a tortilla, he placed it in the pan, followed by pouring in the eggs, chopped veggies, and cheese. When it was ready, he folded the bottom a quarter of the way up before folding it into thirds to make a breakfast burrito. Putting it on a plate, he handed it to Oliver, concern on his face as he turned the stove off.

“Eat. You’ll feel better.”

[behind-every-mask]

"I'm fine, really! It's nothin' t' worry about. Like I said, it's restin' tired face." He leaned against the counter, setting the plate beside him, "I'm alright." Oliver took a long drink then set the cup down.

"But thanks," Oliver nodded slightly to the plate before beginning to eat silently, "I usually don't eat 'til lunch."

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante scowled playfully, finally fixing himself up his coffee. Making himself the same meal he had served Oliver, he glanced back at the sniper.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, amigo. Or did they stop teaching that while I was in hiding, hm?”

Picking up the breakfast burrito straight from the pan with his bare hands, Dante bit into it, leaning against the counter. It had been a while since he last made a meal for someone. Especially out of concern for their wellbeing. Shaking his head of the memories, Dante began loading pan, cutting board, bowl, and knife into the sink while still holding his breakfast.

Dante knew something was wrong with Oliver, but clearly he wasn’t going to just offer up the information. Deciding to share his own demons, he hoped that maybe Oliver would feel comfortable with opening up.

“In Mexico, they called me El Monstruo de Fuego, or the Monster of Fire. But they also called me El Ángel Llameante. The Flaming Angel. I don’t know which one fits more. Probably the first one.”

Subconsciously Dante scratched at his left side as he spoke, as if he could still feel the memory of him carrying a small child to safety.

“I had a sister. A long time ago. Some people, you really didn’t mean to hurt.”

Falling silent, Dante, turned away subconsciously, hiding his disfigured face.

[behind-every-mask]

"Pfft-" Oliver almost choked on his coffee, "I think El Ángel Llameante fits better." The Aussie absolutely butchered the pronunciation but he gave it a good try; his heavy accent betrayed him when it came to other languages.

"Hurtin' people is part of life, whether ya mean to 'r not. Havin' hurt people shouldn't be eatin' up your life even if that hurt was irreversible." Oliver half mumbled most of his words, cutting himself off by eating once again.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante nodded solemnly.

“I was called a monster by the police and the news. I was called an angel by those I saved. I lost track of how many men I killed. How many times I killed my father over and over again in my fire.”

Taking the last bite of his breakfast burrito, Dante wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“For years I terrorized men like my father up and down Mexico.”

Looking up, Dante’s eyes were filled with a mix of hatred and regret.

“Am I an angel for saving all those children from their fathers? Or am I a monster for killing the dozens upon dozens of humans?”

Looking at Oliver full on, Dante expression held every bit of grief, confusion, and desperation he was feeling.

“Am I a monster for wanting to go back and do it all a hundred times over again? That is what pains me. At what point am I no longer saving people, and instead becoming exactly what I’m trying to destroy?”

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

( @behind-every-mask )

Pursing his lips, Dante grabbed another mug and quickly filled it with coffee, handing it to the sniper.

“Milk? Sugar? Are you hungry?”

Dante knew the look of someone haunted by something all too well, it was a look he used to wear. A look his mom used to wear.

Without waiting for an answer, Dante turned on the stove and put a pan on the burner. Grabbing some eggs, he cracked them into a bowl, promptly beating them. Quickly he chopped up some onions, tomatoes, red and green bell peppers, and some cheese. Grabbing a tortilla, he placed it in the pan, followed by pouring in the eggs, chopped veggies, and cheese. When it was ready, he folded the bottom a quarter of the way up before folding it into thirds to make a breakfast burrito. Putting it on a plate, he handed it to Oliver, concern on his face as he turned the stove off.

“Eat. You’ll feel better.”

[behind-every-mask]

"I'm fine, really! It's nothin' t' worry about. Like I said, it's restin' tired face." He leaned against the counter, setting the plate beside him, "I'm alright." Oliver took a long drink then set the cup down.

"But thanks," Oliver nodded slightly to the plate before beginning to eat silently, "I usually don't eat 'til lunch."

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

Dante scowled playfully, finally fixing himself up his coffee. Making himself the same meal he had served Oliver, he glanced back at the sniper.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, amigo. Or did they stop teaching that while I was in hiding, hm?”

Picking up the breakfast burrito straight from the pan with his bare hands, Dante bit into it, leaning against the counter. It had been a while since he last made a meal for someone. Especially out of concern for their wellbeing. Shaking his head of the memories, Dante began loading pan, cutting board, bowl, and knife into the sink while still holding his breakfast.

Dante knew something was wrong with Oliver, but clearly he wasn’t going to just offer up the information. Deciding to share his own demons, he hoped that maybe Oliver would feel comfortable with opening up.

“In Mexico, they called me El Monstruo de Fuego, or the Monster of Fire. But they also called me El Ángel Llameante. The Flaming Angel. I don’t know which one fits more. Probably the first one.”

Subconsciously Dante scratched at his left side as he spoke, as if he could still feel the memory of him carrying a small child to safety.

“I had a sister. A long time ago. Some people, you really didn’t mean to hurt.”

Falling silent, Dante, turned away subconsciously, hiding his disfigured face.

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

( @behind-every-mask )

Pursing his lips, Dante grabbed another mug and quickly filled it with coffee, handing it to the sniper.

“Milk? Sugar? Are you hungry?”

Dante knew the look of someone haunted by something all too well, it was a look he used to wear. A look his mom used to wear.

Without waiting for an answer, Dante turned on the stove and put a pan on the burner. Grabbing some eggs, he cracked them into a bowl, promptly beating them. Quickly he chopped up some onions, tomatoes, red and green bell peppers, and some cheese. Grabbing a tortilla, he placed it in the pan, followed by pouring in the eggs, chopped veggies, and cheese. When it was ready, he folded the bottom a quarter of the way up before folding it into thirds to make a breakfast burrito. Putting it on a plate, he handed it to Oliver, concern on his face as he turned the stove off.

“Eat. You’ll feel better.”

[zedmasterofshadows]

Do me a favor and reblog if you RP GORE

[ask-unmasked-pyro]

As long as we both agree to boundaries and tag it as such, of course

[brooklynsoldier]

Okay I need more people to follow so

Reblog if you post the following:

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[rp-meme-glaceon]

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