#Loyal Followers Forbidden God Au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phagechildon · 2 years ago

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Another Hualian AU I might write eventually~! I actually have so many ideas for it, I just need time to actually write x.x and motivation. Sorta based off the the Hanahaki disease where the victims cough up flower petals, cept way deadlier and wicked

Xie Lian is sent to investigate an area where Heaven received a vast number of prayers from, begging for their missing loved ones to return. For the ones that do return, they pray for their health as they cough up flowers and branches until they die. A simple mission, one he’s done several times. However, after several days, he doesn’t return. San Lang trusts and knows he can handle himself, but something just doesn’t feel *right,* so he follows the red string.

He stumbles upon a completely deserted village, no one left behind. Food is left on tables, indicating they left in a hurry. And in the center of town, his anger soars. On a stone slab lays Xie Lian’s bamboo hat which is covered in blood, the only reason it didn’t fly away was thanks to bloodied chains holding it down. On the ground is a black blade with an unknown purple tip, power radiating off of it in waves. It’s cursed, he realizes, cursed, poisoned, and almost alive. It explains why Xie Lian wasn’t able to free himself.

The only reason he didn’t explode in fury is thanks to the little self control and caution he has, knowing if he spreads his aura, the perpetrators might run away if they were still lingering around. He refuses to take any chances that’ll prolong him from holding Xie Lian safely in his arms.

He makes Yin Yu collect the knife and ask one of the oldest blacksmiths in Ghost City if they’ve seen anything like it. The ghost turns impossibly more pale, saying he should throw it away before it tastes anyone’s blood or soul

It’s a sword that belongs to an ancient creature that’s seeking revival by feasting upon misery and sadness. No one knows how strong the creature is, only that when it last woke, its aura blocked out the sun itself. Its believers and loyal followers are creatures of the woods, and are usually the ones responsible for wiping out whole villages. Nothing is left behind, though it’s hinted they’re kidnapped and used for more energy.

The swords are crafted by devoted followers. The dipped purple edge is a poison that subdues the mind, dropping the victim's guard as the sword then pierces both the body and soul. After soaking up enough of the blood, it tears deeper until its colorless gem is dyed in their blood, becoming a seed, which then slips inside them. If they survive the initial attack, their skin will bare a mark on their forehead.

Those who are dripping with misery usually survive for a while because the seed slowly absorbs them from the inside out. They start to cough up leaves and flower petals, and branches break their bones and through their skin. Some can even see the branches pressing against the skin, as if starts becoming almost translucent. Once it fully absorbs the owner, its most precious flower opens up (blooming out of where the mouth would’ve been) like a clam to reveal a brightly shining “pearl,” which is then fed to their god.

The sword Yin Yu is carrying is missing its gem, meaning it’s inside the person the blood belongs to. Xie Lian is a god, he’s immortal, but has suffered severely for 800 years nearly all alone, giving up on people, finding hope in people, and ultimately, completely and utterly giving up on himself. As much as San Lang completely detests the fact, he knows Xie Lian could easily resurrect this so-called god. He just hopes his Highness is using his “I can’t die so what does it matter how I feel or if it hurts” attitude for once.

After conducting more research, they learn they have their own secret world hidden within a forbidden forest even he knows to be wary of. There’s teleportation arrays all over the place, which allows these disgusting creatures to move around the world with ease, using the kidnapped people’s life force for energy.

Since it feeds off misery, Hua Cheng knows it’s very dangerous for him to go in. But he refuses to rely on anyone else to get Xie Lian out, especially since they don’t know what they are doing to him. The infinity knot and red string are still okay, meaning he’s still alive. But that’s worrisome. If Xie Lian was sound of mind, he would’ve either escaped or called for help via their private communication array. Xie Lian might not know how to ask for help, even from him, and oftentimes forgot, but there was no way he wouldn’t *plead* for San Lang if and when they tapped into his memories of White No-Face ( Bai Wuxiang )

And if they were blocking the communication array, leaving Xie Lian’s strangled cries to fall short, leaving him all alone *again,* hell would be a paradise compared to what he’d do to all of them

This wasn’t a place he could just walk into though, even as a Ghost King. Even the Heavenly Emperor would find it extremely difficult to infiltrate it’s borders as the land itself must invite you in, as it’s part of the creature they were trying to resurrect. The creature is far older than the Heavenly Emperor, some rumors even say it was born the same time humanity was

So he finds a magical item to seal his memories away, only keeping the vital necessities and stringing together a false life. Naturally, he trusts Yin Yu with safeguarding the memories. If he doesn’t return within a week, he’s to shatter the mirror and free his memories. The consequences of having his memories rush in and making a scene are unknown, but he’d face them if it meant saving Xie Lian

He’s banking on slowly recovering them while he’s on the inside, trusting his devotion to Xie Lian to make this plan succeed

Little does he know they’ve heavily drugged Xie Lian, his mind in shambles due to the effects of the drug and having three seeds in him, making him believe the victims are people of Xianle, creating the “perfect” world where Xie Lian gets to be the loved Prince he was always meant to be (the creatures did this to keep Xie Lian from leaving and finding a “cure” for himself). And Wu Ming, barely having his own memory (and being effected by the environment), has to break this fake paradise, unable to watch Xie Lian literally die more by the day despite how happy he seems, even if the happiness is forced half the time ... both having their memories gone, both having fleeting moments of extreme emotion for the other, not understanding, and longing that doesn’t make sense falisudhf the confusion and fear and aaaa very nice angst and comfort~

and that’s the premises but that’s giving so much away already but I just had to share ;////; I dont know anyone who likes TGCF flaiushdf so naturally I want to share it with anyone who’s interested~ hopefully i’ll be able to write it soon!ish fasdf naturally it’ll have a happy ending~

#hualian #tgcf #phage writes #heaven official's blessing #tenses are all off cause im writing this when i should be sleeping ehehehe

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mctherofdragons · 4 years ago

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In The Afterglow | 4 | F.W

This is a reposting of Chapter 4 because I accidentally deleted the original post. Please note as of the day I posted this, we are on much later chapters! xx

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Features EXPLICIT CONTENT!! Mature audiences only.

Trigger Warnings: ANGST, mentions of extramarital affairs, miscarriage, mention of a d&c procedure, cheating, oral sex (female receiving)

Flashbacks are in italics!

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

December 28th.

You slid the hotel room key into the door, taking a deep breath as you opened it. It was an agreement that you would meet at a local hotel. Your story to George was that you had a work emergency, and Fred had just told the rest of the mates at the pub that he was tired. You’d never considered yourself a liar or a cheat, but it occurred to you all at once that as of tonight, you were both. But any thought about your marriage covenant was going, going, gone as you walked into the room, your heart hammering in your chest at the prospect of being completely alone and vulnerable with your husband’s twin. The twin who you were falling madly and irrevocably in love with, despite the protests of your morals screaming into your subconscious.

Once the door shut behind you, you turned to see Fred sitting cross-legged on the bed. He stood up quickly, practically falling over his long legs to get to you. “Hi,” he whispered, cupping your face and planting a soft and longed-for kiss on your lips. You pulled off your scarf and jacket, laying them on the bed.

You moved to pull yourself closer to Fred again. A wave of calm washed from your fingertips to your toes as you buried your face into his maroon button-up shirt. Fred had this way about him: he was both strong and gentle; funny yet serious; forbidden yet sweet. He smiled, using the hand that wasn’t keeping you cling to his chest to stroke your hair.

“I missed you, Fred,” you admitted softly, not looking up. You noticed he was holding you tight. His embrace was almost protective, as if he let relaxed even a bit you would fall apart right there.

You stepped back for a moment, sighing as you sat down on the edge of the mattress. You were exhausted. A bit of a stress-induced headache was beginning to form behind your eyes. While you would normally want to be tucked in your bed with a cup of tea and a few aspirin, tonight the only painkiller you wanted was Fred. He sat next to you, allowing you to turn to look at him.

“This isn’t right.”

Of course, you were stating the obvious. Fred nodded in agreement.

“I know.”

Fred intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to plant a few soft kisses on your fingers.

“George told me...about what happened a few months ago...I’m sorry, y/n. I wish I’d have known.”

“No one knows. Even if they did what could they do? I haven’t told anyone. Not even your mum, although, maybe it would keep her from constantly asking about another grandchild.”

Fred looked at you and all at once felt his heart shatter again. There was something about you that left him mystified and unhinged. It was as if you two had been cut from the same pieces of marble - two statues fated to be next to one another but never touching. He wasn’t sure if he believed in God, but if he had, certainly He had made you two from the same substance.

Fred placed a hand on your cheek. His gaze pierced yours. He spoke honestly, and you recognized that for the first time in a long time, you felt whole again.

“I wish I could give you the world, y/n. I would have given you anything, everything if you were mine.”

You wanted to pull away. Surely, George telling Fred about your miscarriage must have meant he was still bothered. Yet, not in the way that would make him hold you at night or ask you how you’ve been. It was more so in a way that caused you both to sit in silence at the dinner table, forks scraping against plates as neither of you spoke. Knowing that life with Fred would be different felt like a thousand tiny daggers ripping into your flesh, each of them dripping with guilt and shame.

To silence Fred, you brought your lips to his. All at once, the space between you was nonexistent. It was as if gravity had brought you two together like magnets. Fred gently laid you back onto the bed, moving to kiss your neck tenderly and purposefully. His breath tickled the wetness on your skin as he spoke.

“I want you to know that you are the most perfect creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he whispered, before continuing to kiss down toward your collarbone.

His hands found their way to the hem of your tee shirt and you didn’t move to stop him. He pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Fred took a deep breath and began to plant his lips lovingly, down between your collarbones and onto your tummy.

When Fred finally hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties, he looked up at you. He waited for you to give him the go-ahead. His patience was like a warm breeze washing over you. It had been so long since you felt waited for, not pushed.

“Promise not to tell,” you said softly, giving him permission to go further.

“Our little secret.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

6 years earlier.

You took a deep breath, shaking your hands out in an effort to stop some of your nerves. “You look stunning,” your friend assured you. It was the night of the Yule Ball, and it so happened, your first real date with George Weasley.

“Do you think he’ll like my dress?” you smoothed your hands over the maroon lace of your gown. The dress you had chosen was floor length with a full skirt and lace bodice. The sweetheart neckline perfectly hugged you in all the right places. It was still puzzling to you, as you slipped into your heels, that George had finally asked you out.

“He would be a bloody idiot to think you looked anything other than drop-dead gorgeous.”

Always a loyal Hufflepuff, you were thankful for your friend’s ability to cheer you up. You grabbed your clutch, following your friend out of her dormitory.

“Now, come on, we don’t want to miss the opening waltz.”

——-

When you arrived at the top of the stairs, you were excited to see George waiting for you at the bottom. You took in the sight of your date, a bright smile spreading quickly across your face. His long hair was resting perfectly just above his shoulders. To add, he was wearing surprisingly nice dress robes, considering his little brother’s ensemble was dreadful. From what Fred had told you, the two of them had scraped up money together all year to make sure they had something fit to wear to the ball.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, George extended a hand to you. You took it and he leaned down to give you a gentlemanly kiss on the hand. You blushed a darker shade than your dress, feeling a million butterflies burst to life in your stomach.

“You look like a Princess,” he purred. You could have melted into a puddle right there. It was as if everyone else in the room no longer existed as George led you into the Great Hall. It occurred to you that you hadn’t seen Fred, but it didn’t much matter where your best friend was, because every last ounce of your attention was on George.

Meanwhile, Fred sat on his bed, flipping through a comic book. He closed it, feeling like nothing could possibly distract him from the sadness in his chest. He huffed, falling backward onto his pillows and staring hopelessly up at the top of the canopy of his bed. He crossed his arms over his chest as he chewing on his bottom lip.

Fred had secretly hoped George wouldn’t end up asking you to the Yule Ball. In fact, he had tried his damndest to ensure it didn’t happen. George had asked him directly if he had fancied you. But Fred’s ego got the best of him and scoffed, stating he could never view you as anything more than a friend. She’s like my sister, he had said to his brother, hiding the redness growing on his pale cheeks. So George had gone ahead and asked you. Fred, on the other hand, decided it would be better for him to hide away in his dorm all night than to have to see you and George together. If only he had known the Yule Ball was barely a glimmer into what the next several years of his life would be like.

George had completely stolen your heart that night. You had danced until the Great Hall was all but empty. Your laughter echoed above the music. George was quiet possibly one of the most charming boys at Hogwarts. You felt chosen, worthy, and on top of the world.

Best of all, he had walked you back to your dormitory and given you your first real kiss. You had been kissed before, sure, but games of 7 Minutes in Heaven in the y/hn common room didn’t count in your book. He had asked for permission quietly, looking down at his feet. When you said yes, all at once, your lips met. It was quick but sweet. You noted how George’s lips felt like silk. Up close, George smelled woodsy, yet sweet. You felt like you were on the moon, and you went back into your room, falling back onto your mattress with a giggle. Like most girls your age, you were certain it was true love. But, in your rare case, your prediction was correct.

You turned to your roommate and squealed. “I think I’m going to marry George Weasley someday.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

December 28th.

You tossed your head back hard against the pillow, gripping onto the hotel sheets as tight as you could. The only thing clear behind your eyes was a flash of white. Try as you might to hold it back, a loud moan echoed off the hotel room walls. It took a second for you to come back down, feeling two calloused hands on either of your thighs. You heard a soft chuckle and glanced down. Fred was moving from between your legs, fixing his red hair which had now become messy from wrapping your hands in it. You shivered as you felt his warm breath hit the inside of your thigh. You were hypersensitive as you floated back down to Planet Earth.

Fred had kissed his way down your body, whispering quietly about how beautiful every inch of you was. When he had finally reached his destination, you’d realized quickly why so many girls were constantly showing up at the shop to see him. Fred had insisted that you needn’t return the favor. He always made it clear you didn’t have to go any further that night, stating that he just wanted all of the attention to be on you.

“Fred, I--”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly. The redhead climbed up next to you, smiling contently. He moved a piece of sweaty hair from your forehead, giving you a tiny peck on the cheek.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s been a while since that’s happened,” you noted, trying to make light of the fact that it really had been ages since George had shown you a reasonable amount of intimate attention. He smiled, reaching over to hand you his shirt while had been balled up on the floor. You fastened the buttons as he got a bit more comfortable in bed.

“You deserve to be shown how magnificent you are,” Fred ran his hand down your side and you shivered. He pulled the blankets closer around you. “I wish we could stay like this forever, y/n. You know?”

You both laid in silence for a while. No words need to have been spoken as you pressed your foreheads together, taking deep breaths. Fred allowed himself to kiss you a few times, soft as a feather. His eyelashes brushed against your cheeks.

Now that your high was coming down, clarity of the situation was settling in. There was no turning back now. This was no longer a stolen kiss or a wandering hand. Your brother-in-law had just taken you to the edge of ecstasy while your husband no doubt slept alone at home. You flung the covers off of you, feeling like your were suffocating. As quickly as you could you stood up, eyes darting around the room for your clothing. Fred’s brows suddenly furrowed and he looked at you, concern radiating from his face.

“Y/n, did I—-did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. I did. I have to go.”

As if it were a race against the clock, you quickly stripped out of Fred’s shirt and found your jeans on the floor. You pulled them on, moving next to find your grey sweater. Tears were rolling down your cheeks quickly, and you felt your breath becoming harder to take. It may have been your mind, but you could have sworn the walls of the hotel room were collapsing in around you. You felt dirty and shameful - like every shred of decency you had for your husband was nonexistent.

“Baby.”

You said nothing, shoving your phone and wallet into your purse.

“Baby-“

“Don’t call me that, Fred. I’m not your baby.”

Your words hit him like a sucker punch. He recoiled, but still looked worried.

You laid a few bills out on the table for the housekeeper and quickly rushed out of the room. You heard Fred calling after you as he had moved to open the door in an attempt to catch you.

“Y/n!”

As you hurried down the long hotel corridor, it became harder and harder for you to bring air into your lungs. You just about knocked a businessman over as you rushed into the elevator, hitting the button for the first floor as quickly as you could.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

September 24th.

“George,” you shook your husband’s shoulder quickly. Your throat felt tight as you hoped and prayed he would wake up soon. Your hand was pressed to your stomach, eyes clenched tight as another cramp ripped through you.

One of his brown eyes opened and he sat up a bit. “Honey?”

“Something...something’s wrong.”

You had been startled from your sleep in the middle of the night to intense cramping, and now the blood wouldn’t stop. Sharp pains were shooting across your lower back. You knew you had to wake George to get you to the hospital.

Just a few weeks earlier, you had made it through the first trimester. You and George had already made plans to tell the family, bursting at the seams with excitement. During the first three months, you hid your condition well, politely declining fire whisky at get-togethers and wearing looser dresses. You had assumed that you had made it through the riskiest part of your pregnancy. For that reason, a few gifts were sitting in the corner of your bedroom. A grandma tee-shirt for Molly and a gift for Fred, too. You and George had agreed there would obviously be no other option for the baby’s godfather.

At the hospital, you were told the news you were dreading. George held onto you as you wept, barely listening as the doctor told you what would happen next. You begged to be allowed to go home and pass the pregnancy naturally. It wouldn’t be possible according to the professionals. George tried to calm you down as the nurse gently prepped you for the procedure.

It was over fairly quickly. George had waited for you in the waiting room, sipping on cheap coffee, and wondering if he should call Molly. He decided against it, knowing she would just be beside herself for weeks. Eventually, a charge nurse came to tell him everything was done.

“We’ll give her some pain medication and she’ll be as good as new in a few days. You’ll want to keep on eye on her though, dear, you know, emotionally.”

George nodded, tossing his empty styrofoam cup into a nearby trashcan and bounded toward the elevator. Upon walking into Room 493, he noticed how pale you looked. He walked over slowly and you looked at him. The anesthesia was just wearing off. You felt woozy, but had a sense of peace as George leaned over to kiss your forehead. He stayed down close to you, moving your hair from your face a bit.

“You did great, sweetheart. You are so brave. I love you. Come on, we’ll get you home, okay?”

The drive home was dead silent as you stared at the window. Rain splattered against the windshield. You wanted to dissolve into thin air, thinking to yourself that ceasing to exist would be better than the ache you felt. It was dawn and you felt yourself staring mindlessly at the cars passing you. Off these people went to work or school, while you had just lost a baby. It was impossible to recall an emotional pain like the one harboring itself in your heart. A deep, hollow sensation sunk its way into you as tears began trickling down your face. Hermione, Fleur, and Ginny all knew the joy of being a mother. But what about you? Why not you?

You pressed your cheek against the glass, letting out the tiniest whimper.

George glanced over at you and reached to grab your hand. The broken noise you had made had distracted him from the road. You clutched his hand to yours, letting your sobs echo against the dashboard. George felt his own tears begin to slide down his cheeks. The realization hit him all at once that you would never be the same - a part of you permanently and profoundly changed.

You laid in bed for days, only leaving to shower. Occasionally, you allowed George to sit you up and give you something to eat. It wasn’t that you were physically in pain. No, the doctors had given you a good amount of painkillers to ease the physical soreness. Rather, a dark storm cloud had enveloped your heart and mind, forcing you to do nothing but lay and stare at the wall. You would weep, sometimes for hours. As if on cue, George would slide under the covers next to you and pull you close to him.

With your face buried deep into his chest, you would allow your whole body to shake, almost screaming. “M-my baby,” you would weep, gripping your hands into George’s shirt. It wasn’t just once that this happened - but for days on end. George would fight his own tears from coming, willing himself to be the strong and protective husband you deserved. The woman he loved had entered that hospital and he wasn’t sure she had come back out. But he would do anything, he promised himself, to be what you needed.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

December 29th.

The Saturday morning sunshine poured through your window. You stretched contently, noting that George was already gone. Saturdays served to be the busiest days at Weasley Wizard Wheezes. People had more time to shop on the weekends, of course. Therefore, Saturday also happened to be the day you would whip up some food for the twins and head down to help out. You busied yourself mostly with the register and bookkeeping, giving Fred and George more time to be present with customers and take care of other duties.

This Saturday felt different. The feeling Fred had given you the night before was still fresh in your mind as you stared in the bathroom mirror. You looked back at yourself, letting out a deep sigh. Dark circles were present beneath your eyes, no doubt from the restless sleep you had. You laid awake, looking at George, thinking to yourself that whatever category was the worst, you were in it.

__________

The bells of the shop jingled as you walked in. Fred looked up from where he was arranging a fixture of love potions. Your eyes locked in a longing gaze momentarily before George came out of the backroom. Fred immediately diverted his stare. He attempted to look busy as he listened to your conversation.

“The caffeine has arrived!” George greeted, coming over to take one of the three coffee cups you were carrying.

“And you know, your wife comes along with caffeine, George. Cream and two sugars,” you smiled, allowing him to give you a kiss on the lips. While you were mostly joking, you did feel somewhat hurt.

Fred walked over to you next, taking his coffee from you. Up close, you could tell Fred looked exhausted.

“Black with four sugars?” He asked, taking a sip.

“‘Course, Freddie,” you said curtly, heading toward the register as fast as possible. “So what time do we open?”

“Nine,” George said, taking another gulp of his drink.

George glanced at his brother and then back at you, feeling a weird sense that you two were angry at each other.

“Everything alright?” George asked, watching as you busied yourself with wiping the counter down.

“Yes, dear,” you sighed.

“Hey, don’t forget. Ron and Hermione’s New Year’s Eve party is tomorrow, and the three of us are expected to make an appearance.”

George was next to you now, close behind your shoulder. You had made the amateur mistake of wearing a v-neck top. He noticed a small lovebite just above your breast. Or was it a bruise? Surely, it must have been, because you hadn’t been intimate with him in weeks. You did have a tendency to be clumsy. In fact, it was a running joke.

“I know,” you and Fred said in unison. You looked over to see George staring at your chest. You pulled your top-up a bit, hoping he was just enamored with you.

#fred weasley x reader #in the afterglow #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley angst #harry potter fanfiction

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angstymdzsthoughts · 4 years ago

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Old God AU: LWJ is a deity of sanctuary, purity, and righteousness. During a war between the heavens, Immortals, and the Ghost Realm, the gods sided with a being from the darkness. WWX was a strange half-breed born between a god and human. Cursed with belonging to neither world, and blessed with a strong sense of always doing what is right. When the war ended, the heavens turned on WWX, killing him without mercy when LWJ was away. Upon discovering his death, LWJ demanded [1/5]

OG: justice for killing an ally, refusing to allow anyone near the crypt he'd sealed his lover's body. Even the all powerful LWJ could not keep fighting forever, and after 33 years of endless battle, he was defeated. Whipped 33 times with a discipline whip--able to scar even the strongest of gods, he was then sealed within the cold water cave within the CR. Even while surrounded by his most loyal followers, the seal held strong, leaving him in frigid darkness. [2/5]

OG: Eventually his power began to wane, as those outside the Lan Sect forgot his name and no longer prayed to a god who could not answer. He spent hundreds of years meditating and reflecting on himself. He'd finally resigned himself to his fate; if his power completely vanished, he'd become mortal, and die locked in his desolate cave. When a foreign disciple somehow manages to fall into the cave, breaking the seal that even LWJ could not, he finds himself a devoted worshiper [3/5]

OG: friend, and an unwilling participant in a sect war. While forbidden from physically interfering im human wars, LWJ finds himself offering advise and more to WY and his infectious smile, brilliant mind, and his uncanny ability to annoy a god without fear. His attraction to WY, and WY's odd resemblance to WWX spur him into action, taking on the heavens in search for new meaning to what is right. [4/4...I lied about a 5th part!]

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snowflake-of-destruction · 5 years ago

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Observation

I can’t write a quick, few line caption to save my life Part 4/8. Based off of the fourth picture of THIS POST because I absolutely could not think of anything to write but “They are so hecking cute. Look at Roxas’s little blush” and so I just wrote everyone else saying they are so hecking cute. Basically. It’s that but wordy. Also, Roxas’s tail wagging motors Axel’s boat across the water because @complicatedandstained said it and nothing that cute can be left out.

@shaky-mayhemm

Part 5/? of Mermaid AU that needs a name

Xion was the first to know. Roxas's younger sister had always been the one he was closest to, more his other half than even Sora. That, and he felt he owed her for how quickly she'd chimed in and claimed Roxas had been with her all day, helping her create shell paths with Dory's parents. She'd even found a way to wiggle one of the shells she had kept for her own collection out of her bag and press it into Roxas's palm without Aqua seeing so he could show proof. Xion hadn't been happy learning that he'd went to the surface without her, and Roxas had only churned the currents more when he admitted he'd spoken to a human. She'd begged him not to go back, and left Roxas sure that no matter how she protested to the contrary that she didn't understand. Axel had proven every story Aqua had told them about sailors wrong even before they'd met properly, but Xion was more concerned that he'd been stalking the same human for weeks and his slip up had been premeditated.

She agreed to keep his secret because she was loyal to a fault. The only times she'd broken a promise was when she'd told Aqua that Roxas had been the one to bet Sora he couldn't last five minutes with his arm stuck in a sea anemone, and that only because Sora had a reaction to the toxin. She hadn't even told Aqua when Vanitas had confessed to her his plans to run away, but then perhaps she should have. Roxas only had to convince her that he wouldn't be hurt and he'd always come back.

He decided the solution was to take her with him next time he saw his sailor. She refused to speak to Axel that first day even though she'd been the one who had snuck into Aqua's rooms years ago and stolen as many volumes as she could of old King Eraqus's tablets for her and Roxas to learn all they could about the now forbidden surface. She refused to even come near. She stayed a whale length away from Axel's lifeboat at all times, keeping only her eyes and the top of her head above water, all the better to glare at the human with. By the end of the night though, the storm of her gaze had broken to calm seas.

For her it was the way Axel looked at Roxas like he was a treasure, but not one to own, just wearing a never-ceasing awe that shone through even when he was acting out other emotions. She liked the way he laughed full-throated when Roxas told a joke and scoffed at Roxas when he said something stupid too. She couldn't hear what was said, but she didn't need to. Roxas was funny. Roxas was dumb. Roxas's human listened, and more than he talked, though she saw him break in sometimes and speak with his hands as much as his mouth. She liked the way Axel kept trailing his hand in the water and then holding his hand above Roxas's head to drip over his face, looking too concerned to have it be mistaken for teasing. She doubted Roxas had even said anything about the dry air.

The next day she bobbed on the surface of the water next to Axel's little boat beside Roxas. He was just as friendly to her: willing to listen, eager to listen even to every thought or question she had, and then provide his own answers and commentary; excited to teach and to learn, but also falling into softness that said he cared about more than knowledge. He didn't look at her like a treasure though, and that remained the difference. He wasn't a human stunned he had discovered merfolk were real. He was a man that was thanking his human gods that he'd discovered her brother.

Xion was satisfied enough she let Roxas come to the surface without her after that (As long as he took her sometimes. She and Axel were best friends now. They'd agreed) and put herself in charge of explaining any long absences.

Vanitas was the first to find out without being told. Roxas didn't even know his estranged brother watched him and their siblings. Vanitas didn't need to follow them to watch them. Master Xehanort had taught him how to see them reflected in a jagged shard of glass he'd salvaged from a shipwreck. He usually watched for information he could pass to his master that would further their plans, or so he told himself, but he found himself observing Roxas' trips to the surface for weeks and not saying a word.

For Vanitas, it was how Roxas hardly stopped smiling for a moment. Roxas had always been the most like Vanitas, the only one out of the group of younger siblings the raven haired merman could remotely understand, quick to anger and slow to show he was happy. Roxas was still too innocent and too easily entranced by simple, stupid things for Vanitas to be able to stand his company for long, but he wasn't obnoxious like Sora's incomprehensible perpetual buoyancy. Until now at least. Roxas wasn't just happy. He was glowing more in the sun than he ever did in the depths where their scales turned luminescent. He kept wagging his tail and it was disgusting . More than that, his shoulders relaxed. It wasn't the slump or slouch Roxas sometimes fell into when he wasn't filled with tension. Roxas looked at home.

It wasn't completely foreign. Roxas belonged with their family; he wasn't constantly ill at ease like Vanitas had been and still was even after leaving and finding the role he had really been born to play. It was significant though, to see Roxas look so at peace with a stranger.

Vanitas decided Xehanort wouldn't have this news, not from him at least. To be happy and at home for a moment? Vanitas could be jealous, but he couldn't refuse Roxas the only thing he wanted himself.

Sora was the last to suspect but the third to know for sure. He was clumsy in following Roxas and would have been discovered easily if his twin hadn't been so absorbed in the only track his mind would focus on these days. And that was what it was for Sora: the complete absorption. He wasn't the only thing Roxas didn't notice. Roxas sat on rocks until his scales started to look crusty and he wheezed. Roxas was startled by a seagull that had been tapping around Axel's boat for several minutes and had been circling overhead long before that, apparently unaware of its pretense until it stood on his hand and squawked in his face as if affronted that he was a fish too large to eat. Roxas had to have a pod of leaping dolphins that he should have been expecting, considering he'd been the one to suggest their swimming route when he and Sora had talked to them that morning, pointed out to him by Axel. Sora would have been worried not endeared if he hadn't been forced to chase Axel's little wooden boat he'd taken from the the big boat when Axel had neglected to secure it properly to the rock island he and Roxas had claimed, and then further failed to notice it starting to float away. Both parts of the couple still didn't seem to notice him when he towed the boat back.

They were lost, utterly lost, and Sora wasn't going to be the one to admit he'd found them.

Besides, he was glad not to be the oblivious one for once.

Kairi was the last one, save Aqua, to see Roxas with Axel and the hardest to convince. Her protective instincts weren't of a sibling that could also be swayed by biased affection, and she hadn't heard the story of how King Eraqus had died enough times for it to seem more like a scary story to ensure good behavior than a tragedy to be mourned like the princes and Xion. It was one thing when she suspected Roxas was just following boats like Xion had told her they'd done half their lives. It was concerning then, but Xion had rattled off the precautions they took, and Kairi had concluded it wasn't her place to interfere. Sora telling her Roxas was in love with a human and didn't care about secrecy or distance was another. Axel didn't seem like the type of human capable of such atrocities as Aqua had warned about, but by the time any of them could know for sure it could be too late. She planned to corner Roxas on his way back to the palace after he'd left his little rendezvous and give him an ultimatum of whether he'd rather stop seeing the human willingly or have her go to Aqua, but then she saw the kiss.

She wouldn't be able to defend why it made all reservations melt away. It had to be witnessed. She could say Axel kissed Roxas like he was the water that sustained all life and he had to drink every drop. She could talk about the contrast of the softness in the way he touched Roxas, as if he'd been trusted with something fragile he'd break and end up broken himself if he did. She could laugh until she cried about how Roxas's tail flapped so forcefully that he'd propelled Axel's boat at least a dolphin-length when they'd shared their last kiss goodbye, and then try to describe how even the scrunched corners of Roxas's closed eyes told their own story of a moment so perfect you felt you could just float away on a current. None of that quite captured the feeling of being there and understanding what the tall tales were speaking about when they included true love's kiss. It all sounded like fanciful nonsense when reduced to words.

Kairi dived and headed back to the palace on her own, swearing that even if all she had was fanciful nonsense, she'd try to defend Roxas and his human when Aqua found out. Then she found Sora coaxing a pod of squid to play a game he'd just invented that involved five different goalposts and several starfish for each player to use as projectiles. She asked if they could talk alone, but ended up helping him convince the starfish that they would have fun playing his game instead. There would be other days to see if they could create a fairytale of their own. She'd be grateful later, because some fairytales didn't just feature princes and princesses but a knight needed to propel it to happily ever after.

Aqua had secrets kept from her for too long and then uncovered in traumatic ways, which should have hardened her heart until there was no softness left, but a combined testimony was hard to argue against. Find someone who cares and shows it even in small actions. Find someone who is your home. Find love consuming. Find a passion that's pure. It's what she always wished for Roxas and for the rest of her charges.

In the end, what call could anyone make but to swim away and let Roxas be happy.

#mermay #akuroku #kingdom hearts #xion #roxas #axel #vanitas #kairi #sora #axel x roxas #mermaid au that needs a name #watch me quite obviously and deliberately bait shaky into drawing Sora creeping unnoticed in the background of future Axel and Roxas pics #protecting them from unseen dangers #mermaid au stories

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orghanabolir · 4 years ago

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LFRP--Orghana Bolir

The Basics –––

Server: Balmung

Age: 18

Birthday: 12th Sun, Fifth Umbral Moon

Race: Au Ra | Xaela

Gender: Female

Sexuality: ?

Alignment: Lawful Good

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance –––

Hair: Purple

Eyes: Lavender

Height: 5’ 1”

Build: Lean and toned. There is no extra flesh on her. Offering her a sandwich would not be out of place.

Distinguishing Marks: Faint minor scars on her limbs

Common Accessories: Commonly dressed in Bolir tribal gear (brown is the primary Bolir color). Orghana does not favor jewelry very much.

Personal –––

Profession: Student | Tribal Emissary

Likes:

Singing and dancing

Her pet sheep, Lambchop

Playing the morin khuur

Wrestling

Dislikes:

Disloyalty

Pollution, harm to nature

Disrespect

Languages:

Bolir, a derivative of Auri (primary)

Auri

Eorzean

Residence: Stays in guest accommodations at her fc in Eorzea, and has a yurt outside of Shirogane. Her home is wherever her family is traveling on the Steppes

Birthplace: Azim Steppes

Religion: The Dusk Mother and Dawn Father

Patron Deity: Dusk Mother

Fears:

Disappointing her parents

Being forbidden to sing and dance

Relationships –––

Spouse: —None

Children: —None

Parents: Her parents are leaders in the Bolir tribe, which is a minor Xaela tribe.

Other Relatives: 1 brother and 4 sisters, all older than her

Pets: Lambchop, a lamb (duh)

Traits –––

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information –––

Smoking Habit: None.

Drugs: None.

Alcohol: She imbibes. She prefers kumis, as it reminds her of home, but she doesn’t mind a nice grassy white wine. She was given Scotch recently, but did note enjoy it.

RP Hooks –––

Performer - You may see her performing somewhere and want to speak with her about her singing or dancing, or perhaps you are looking for someone to perform at an event.

School – Orghana is meant to keep up with her schooling while here. However, she has been favoring performance studies over other subjects. Perhaps you want to recommend other classes or institutions.

Business Interests – Orghana is technically in Eorzea on business involving her tribe. Perhaps you wish to discuss importing fertilizer or fuel bricks from the Azim Steppes.

Hanging out with a friend – Orghana likes to explore Eorzea (on her limited funds) whenever the time affords it. She enjoys restaurants and bars, particularly if there is entertainment, as well as other activities.

Information/Research--Maybe you want to know more about Xaela ways for some reason

What I’m Looking For –––

Friends, as Orghana knows few people outside of the Steppes

I am interested in finding school rp for her

Xaela tribal rp, if her tribe would logically be involved

Other rp that makes sense for her

Limits –––

I don’t like god-moding.

No erp. I’m not against romance, but Orghana is young and inexperienced, and also assumes her parents will marry her off at some point, so a partner would have their work cut out for them.

No permanent damage or death

ABOUT ME –––

I am a teacher in the real world, in the Eastern U.S. I love to log in to FFXIV after work. I prefer in-game rp to Discord. I do use Discord for coordination, and ooc discussion with players when appropriate. I enjoy the PVE side of the game as well if you want to run some content (don’t expect an expert though, I’m a casual player).

Contact Information –––

In Game: Walk-ups are fine, though a tell as a warning is appreciated. At events, feel free to walk on up without a tell. (I struggle with chat scroll when things are super busy, so if I don’t respond, you may need to resort to a tell anyway, sorry!)

Discord: Taly/Orghana #4374

You may contact me in game, or via Discord.

Further Information--

Orghana’s Carrd/Wix can be found at orghana.carrd.co

#ffxiv #ffxir rp #balmung #balmung rp #xaela #ffxiv-crystal-rp #crystal rp #crystal-rp #crystal data center #lfrp #mooglemeet #crystalxivrp #orghanabolir

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deans-haunted-baby · 5 years ago

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Why I don’t think Michael will side with Chuck in the End

I know there’s theories floating around that Michael may have been deceiving the Winchesters in 15x08. Its true we have no idea what his agenda is or if he’s that interested in playing nice with TFW. They did trap him in Hell with their half brother for a long time so he’s not exactly warm & fuzzy about that. However this isn’t the psychotic, sinister version of Michael from the alternate universe nor is he the same steel cold obedient soldier back in 5x22. He’s changed massively. There’s more humanity in him now than he’d like to admit. In spite of what we’ve seen from Michael in the past, I don’t think he’s interested in harming Sam and Dean, at least not currently. And I just can’t see him running to Chuck, not after receiving all that alarming information. So I'm going to present the following reasons for why he probably won’t turn on the boys. Number 1 being the most important. Adam Milligan.

For however it happened the archangel bonded with a human. The formally resurrected 19 yr old illegitimate son of John Winchester. All those years spent in the cage these two managed to forge an understanding between one another; an unusual strong connection. They're friends and allies. Michael listens to and respects Adam’s opinions even if he doesn’t always agree. Allows him freedom to control his own body. And despite being the ruthless warrior that he still is, Michael’s been shown to be much more merciful, patient and compassionate compared to when the boys last faced him. Because of his relationship with Adam, Michael’s developed a newfound appreciation for humanity similar to his aunt Amara aka the Darkness. He truly cares about Adam and protects him. Like at the diner when he smote Lilith for posing a threat. Then instead of killing the witnesses in front of Adam, Michael chooses to spare their lives by erasing their memories. He even defended Adam to the Winchesters further demonstrating that he does consider his feelings. That’s beyond the person he was when he told Dean “Adam isn’t home right now” all those years ago.

So I have no doubt Michael will do what ever means necessary to keep Adam safe from Chuck, who is hell bent on destroying the world which Adam is part of. Even if that means siding with some old enemies to take him down so be it. As the old saying goes “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”. Of course that doesn’t mean Adam shares any love for Sam and Dean. Hell no. He made that pretty clear at the diner. He has every reason and right to hate them after ten years of failure to save him from Hell. Every reason to make them suffer. Adam deserves to be pissed at the Winchesters and the world for doing him dirty like that. But...for better or worse, Sam and Dean are still his brothers. Its for that reason and that reason alone that I don’t see Michael threatening to go after them later. He knows Adam wouldn’t want that unless (he really is a scheming crazy person deep inside) Michael’s friendship with him is just smoke & mirrors which I don’t believe for one second.

And Adam’s been presented as being a very forgiving, kind soul despite all the pain he’s been through. Revenge wasn’t even on his mind the moment he got out of that cage. It was human food on top of wanting to go back to school or get a job. Meaning he cared more about getting back to some sense of normalcy. Then when Castiel and the Winchesters pulled him and Michael into their crisis, Adam was willing to hear their side and attempted to convince Michael to help them. Why go through that whole charade if Adam just wanted Sam and Dean hurt or dead? They had every opportunity to double-cross TFW while being held captive but instead Michael & Adam chose to put aside their grievances, at least for the moment, and give the Winchesters something useful. Now whether or not the spell actually works (I doubt it’ll be that simple) is the mystery. However this definitely not the last time we’ll see these two characters which brings me to point number 2. Jack Kline.

This is a big one. Why you ask? Well lets go over that scene in 15x08 where Castiel shares his memories with Michael and Adam. There was so much foreshadowing in this moment (from Michael/Adam’s return down the road, to Michael’s unavoidable confrontation with Chuck and finally his eventual encounter with the young Nephilim himself) based on how that scene was shot and edited. The primary objective was Michael watching Jack die at the snap of Chuck’s fingers and reacting to it along with all the other nasty business his dad’s been doing behind the scenes. Talking didn’t seem to be enough to get through to Michael and neither did antagonizing him. His stubbornness and arrogance wasn’t surprising being he is the Prince of Heaven and has a blind idealized devotion for his father as his loyal son. So in order to open Michael’s eyes and get him to see the truth, Castiel focuses his energy on the most ruthless, evil act Chuck has ever committed. Murdering his grandson and Michael’s nephew.

Doing this Castiel shatters that righteous image Michael has had of his father forever because Chuck/God (father of all creation) is suppose to be the embodiment of light, love, hope, peace and benevolence. He created Michael to be his champion of humanity; the guardian protector of Heaven and Earth. Its Michael’s sworn destiny to defend good against evil. And Chuck crossed the line, several in fact. He represents everything Michael was born to oppose. Trying to mess with free will, attempting to destroy everything he created all out of spite because the Winchesters refused to play his games anymore. But above every horrible thing he’s ever done there’s no sin greater than taking the life of his own flesh and blood. A child born of a human (God’s greatest creation) and an archangel (Michael’s younger brother Lucifer whom, despite their conflict, he loved immensely). That is unforgivable. No matter how much he may still love him, Michael has absolutely no reason to trust his father; not after all those centuries of deception. And Chuck has shown he has no regard for human life let alone the lives of his own family which Jack’s death all represents.

Now Michael chose to leave at the end of 15x08 after giving our heroes the spell to trap Chuck and showing them the door to Purgatory. But what’s interesting about that is his reference to the Darkness. It’s unclear if Michael even knows Amara has been released and neither Dean or Castiel ever mention it. I wonder if he can sense her energy. So the question is where is Michael going? Is he planning to seek her out or leaving to confront his father (which I doubt since Chuck is preoccupied with Sam and Eileen at the moment)? What we do know is Michael and Adam can’t avoid the inevitable. They’re as much apart of this fight as TFW whether they like it or not. It all depends on which side Michael ultimately chooses. Will he align himself with the Winchesters or is he going to be on his own side? It’ll be interesting to find out when the show returns in 2020! And I’ve been thinking a lot about what Michael’s interaction with Jack will look like when they’re finally reunited because if its anything like what we saw with Gabriel (or better) that could be a good sign for Sam, Dean and Castiel.

Out of all his paternal family members Jack’s so far met his biological dad (that didn’t go over so well), his grandfather (that didn’t go well either) and one of his archangel uncles. He’s yet to encounter his great aunt Amara the Darkness or his most powerful famous warrior uncle. The original Michael. Those are interactions I’d very much like to see happen before the show ends. But for arguments sake lets say Michael does consider turning on the Winchesters. Not that he would or might but what if he still has doubts. Jack could be TFW’s best chance at gaining Michael’s trust, cooperation and alliance. He could tell his uncle that Castiel and the Winchesters had been raising him as their own; protecting him since he was born. Things I’m sure Michael might appreciate. Or Jack could confide his biggest regret (accidently killing Mary Winchester) as a means to bond with Michael and help him understand the Winchester brothers a little better. Reminding Michael and Adam of redemption and forgiveness. That any pain the Winchesters might’ve caused them has no comparison to what Jack took from Sam and Dean and yet they’re still a family.

It’ll be fascinating to see how they go about the dynamic between these characters considering what happened with AU Michael in S13 and S14. Jack may be a little hesitant of his uncle at first and Michael may be hostile (since he probably knows Nephilim are forbidden) yet curious or a combination of both. Or maybe their first encounter may be a bit softer than expected what with Adam in the middle of things. Michael could become very taken with Jack and protective of him. He was very distraught after seeing those horrifying images of his father killing his nephew. And I could see Adam being their ice breaker (oh the comedic possibilities of this!) he’s a very laidback, likable chill dude not to mention Sam and Dean’s half brother. Yah that little detail is probably going to be the most shocking for Jack since Adam’s never been a blip on the Winchesters’ radar.

Moving onto point number 3. Heaven. It’s dying which is why Jack was manipulated into creating new angels to power it up. After all the damage done by Metatron, Lucifer and the Entity it’s left in ruin and without proper leadership. We know as of right now Michael has no intention of going back there. He’s severely withdrawn since learning his brothers are all deceased and probably feels like a failure and a fool. But none the less he’s got unfinished business back home. By the time Supernatural ends someone’s got to be left in charge of things up there, my moneys on either Amara or Michael since he’s the heir to the throne of Heaven. It would be a fitting ending for either of them. Maybe Michael will somehow restore Heaven’s power (with Amara and Jack) and reopen it for the all the earthbound souls. Or maybe in the aftermath of the final showdown against Chuck, Michael will just hang around with Adam and whoever else is left standing on Earth. And finally we reach my last point number 4. Amara.

What do we know about Michael’s complicated history with his aunt? Not much either than the fact that he and his brothers were ordered by Chuck to seal her away centuries ago; with no intention of ever releasing her. Something tells me Amara wouldn’t harbor any kind of affection for Michael, not after what we saw with Lucifer. And we have no idea if she still shares that same connection with Dean as she did in S11 (though rumor has it they got an upcoming storyline together in the back-half of S15) or if she’s even interested in lending a hand in the Winchesters’ business of saving the world. However Amara has been shown, like Michael, to have developed a love for humanity. She’s having the time of her life vacationing all over and taking advantage of her freedom. I don’t think she’d be too thrilled knowing her brother plans to destroy all he’s accomplished and he’s not exactly her favorite person to be around. She’s completely done with Chuck’s crap. He’s alienated her to the point where she wants to be as far from him as humanly possibly.

And if she does still view Dean in a favorable light after what he’d done for her, that could be what persuades Amara into helping TFW. Michael would have to be an absolute moron to attempt an attack (if he decided to make them his enemies) if Sam and Dean manage to get the Darkness on their side. Its canon that she’s far more powerful than the archangels which is why it took all of them combined to lock her away. That said I don’t think Michael’s character is being set up as a villain. We already had AU Michael, been there done that. Nor do I see him and Amara at odds specifically because of their deteriorating ties to Chuck. Could their reunion be pretty heated and violent? Possibly. Its hard to say where they’ll stand with each other when they cross paths, there’s some bad blood between them for sure so they’ve got some family issues to sort through. But as of right now, what’s happening is bigger than both of them and their angst. Ironically Michael and Amara got more in common with each other than they realize.

Both of them were abandoned, lied to and used by Chuck on top of being imprisoned for many years. And they actually care about the world they're currently inhabiting which Chuck wants to end. That’s got to be worth more to them than some old discrepancies in the past. Enough for them to want to put aside their differences and work together to stop Chuck. Imagine how awesome this storyline would be, former enemy family members coming together because of a common threat they’re all facing. Michael and Amara along side TFW, that’s a pretty badass team. I WANT THIS. I want to see Michael get to be a good guy. Become an ally and the honorable hero he was meant to be. Saving humanity whom he now cares about with his human best friend. We deserve to see this version of Michael come into fruition before the show ends.

Anyway those are my thoughts on the Michael/Adam situation. I hope it comes true or most of it anyway. I know Supernatural is building up for a big finish. It would be nice if they didn’t waste two characters we haven't seen for ten years. I want to believe that they have plans for Michael and Adam that don’t include killing them off for shock value and/or villainizing them at the last second. They deserve better than that. 15x08 was a perfect example of how to utilize and develop these characters into the plot. They have so much potential and story left to tell. Lets hope the writers know what they’re doing.

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lemonyelixir · 2 years ago

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Oh! Im working on a Au called Forgotten God / Or Forbidden Gods

-Wally is one of the main *forgotten* God , He Loves any new followers but c̸̞̱̆͒̋̅͋̇̋̓̍̆͗̊̊͐̈ũ̶̺͓̮̝̯̯̜͕̘̹͜ȑ̶̡̨͔͓͈̜̤̙̱͇͔̲͖͐̿͒̊̂̆ͅs̸̡̺͎̤̯̟͕̠͉̹̫͂͑͑̎̈́̎e̸̻͍̻̩̻̼̝̘̜̻̿̐ḑ̸͎͔͉̳̦̳̲͎̝͖̻̑̎ gave His only loyal follower *dust haha you seen them in my last post* A a uhm A gift! they forgotten their age. He’s quite afraid of losing them from the last church gotten ruin

-Wally hates touching his own face he has his followers help him when his hair is tangled up

-He’s taller than c!wally he’s 7ft

-he keeps his right side hidden with his hair unless in his god form -he’s rarely in it-

-He loves apples! Just dont cook them he’ll still be confused

-His loyal follower put on a ear clip on his left ear and they put on different ones each day , if Wally get more followers his loyal ones put more or makes a chart of colors

-Stares alot he barley blinks , he accidentally ate grass before when he did

-Home is very quite tall in this au

He always smile @:]

Questions always welcome!!

#WelcomeHomeAu #Welcomehome #wally darling welcome home #Welcome Home Wally #Au #Forgotten God Au Welcome home #Forgotten!Wally #i hope this looks ok #WIP #Heavy Wip

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softjeon · 5 years ago

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minjoon + greek gods au ;))

— GENRE; fluff, smut | — PAIRING; Hades!Namjoon x Aphrodite!Jimin | — DISCLAIMER; mentioning of cheating, jealousy, nsfw-content | — Wordcount; 3,4k | — written with @cassiavioletblue

The demon yawned silently and stretched, before getting back into a more comfortable position. He could hear footsteps nearing and held his breath, keeping his eyes closed as the noise drew nearer. The moment the heavy door opened, the loyal servant snapped his eyes open, bowing deeply in front of his god. He had opened his mouth to report, when laughter reached his ears and the demon listened up. The noises coming from outside were getting louder and the demon furrowed his brows when the splashing sound of water made him look up, even though his god hadn’t told him to relax, yet.

Being responsible for a well-working underworld could be quite the hassle sometimes. Some newcomers found their new place immediately, fitting right in as if they had always been there but others… not so much. His district administrators had to report to him regularly so that he was in the picture about everything and it was an important way to stay in touch. Yet, he sometimes wished he could just skip it. It was exhausting to listen to all the complaints some of the souls had, some couldn’t forget their mortal lives and some were just regular troublemakers. After a hard day of governing all he wanted to do was sitting a little in the fire and letting the flames lick at his spine relaxingly, but he hadn’t fed his dogs yet, so he would do that first and then go make that fire afterwards.

Surprisingly Cerberus was nowhere in the hallway and Namjoon furrowed his brows. The hellhound normally liked to stay close and so Namjoon was used to being greeted by him after he had been locked away in the great hall listening to ministers for hours. Apparently something else must have caught his loyal dogs’ attention.

The servant noticed the food in the god’s hands, calling out for the dog once. Twice. A bark made him turn towards where the noise was coming from, looking outside the window. What he saw made him gasp and quickly retreat, when Namjoon stood behind him pushing him away to see.

Down by the lake, Jimin was scooping up some water to let it drip over his shoulder as he was knee deep and with his back to his favorite place: the underworld’s castle. Namjoon’s home.

Jimin giggled, as he looked over his shoulder, knowing about his charm too well and how it affected the men around, feeling their stares on his back as they tingled down his spine. The demons around had joined him in his little bath quickly, laughing and kissing each other all around him just with a wave of his hand.

There was another thing he was pretty sure of, that his little show was making Namjoon angry and jealous. Something Jimin loved to lure out from the god of the underworld too much. It was like playing with fire, but he couldn’t keep his hands off him. If he’d burn in his hold, then he’d go up in flames with a smile on his lips. It was not like Hephaestus didn’t know about his lover. He was a coward though, not even trying to say something, too afraid of death. And Jimin loved Namjoon even more for it.

“Ah, that’s why…”

Cerberus adored Jimin. One would think that it was easy for the god of love to wrap all the creatures around his little finger and it was true with people and demons - and sometimes the other gods. Hellhounds weren’t that simply however and so the friendship that had blossomed between Jimin and the dogs had nothing to do with his godly powers but everything with heartfelt affection on both sides. And just as he had thought, there he was, all three mouths open with his pink patchy tongues hanging out while Cerberus tried to catch the droplets of water that were splashing around from Jimin’s games.

Jimin’s eyes flickered up from where he knew Namjoon was watching him behind the window. “Come,” He mouthed, waving the god down with the sweetest of smiles as he yelped, when the dog jumped into the water, wanting to keep Jimin’s attention. “Cerberus!” Jimin laughed and reached out for the dogs, burying his hands in the thick fur. “Get your master, will you? I want him to join the fun.” He gave each head a little kiss.

He didn’t needed to be dragged by his pet, his feet moved all on their own towards Jimin as it was what he wanted to do anyways. If they had been alone he would have been in the water already but he hated it to have his servants watch them. And even more did he hate it when they watched Jimin. Of course he didn’t say anything because he knew that Jimin was well aware of his opinion about the younger bathing shamelessly in front of his demons. And Jimin did it despite his knowledge - or maybe even because of it. The god of love liked to tease, to taunt and seduce, to allure and play. And he took great pleasure in making Namjoon jealous.

Jimin couldn’t keep the smile of his face, when Cerberus had ran towards the palace, barking and jipping at his owner excitedly as if he was trying to tell him something. The god of love took his robe from the side, where he had discarded it earlier, not even phased by the stares of the demon and the lust that filled the atmosphere. His eyes were on Namjoon, and him only. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, you know, work. Might be difficult to understand for someone who deems letting others love him his job but it can get quite stressful here in the real world.” His words had no bite and his eyes twinkled. They always talked like this with his demons around, the soft and gentle words weren’t meant for their ears.

Only for Jimin’s.

“Oh, such a hard working man.” Jimin pursed his lips into a pout as he walked up to the god with slow steps and only then pulled his robe over his head to cover up his body. “You should be resting, leaving others to do the work tonight.” The young god, blinked up at him, licking over his lips slowly, before cocking up an eyebrow. “It seems as if you’re servants don’t have much to do.”

“They do, actually.” He sent his demons a sharp glance. “But somehow they always manage to find distraction when it happens to be near. If I had the choice I’d stare at you too instead of doing my work. Especially with you all naked and wet. You should be careful.”

“Who wouldn’t?” His voice sounded breathy as he leaned in, getting on his tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “But I’m feeling a little cold now…I think I need something more comfortable, any ideas?”

Namjoon bowed his head slightly in an invitation for Jimin to follow him. “The hellfires will warm you up. And they can be quite comfortable as well. Depending on how you found your way to them of course.” Hell and its fires was more what people made of it and less the horrible place that everyone made it out to be. It was his home and he liked it.

Jimin followed the god of the underworld suit, letting his power unravel behind him as the demons shook themselves out of their daydreams. His focus was on someone else now. “Sounds perfect,” Jimin hushed out, as he got up the stairs, pulling up his robe enough so he wouldn’t trip.

The moment the heavy door of Namjoon’s private room’s fell close behind them, leaving everything else shut outside, Jimin caught up to him while his hand wrapped around his arm as he leaned onto the strong god. “I missed you.”

“You should have come sooner then…” Namjoon had turned, hands immediately sliding under the robe that was only halfway tied and opened under his touch. His words didn’t give away how much he had missed Jimin as well but his kiss did, hungry and demanding, while he pressed Jimin’s body against his own.

“You know he doesn’t let me.” Jimin whispered, when Namjoon kissed down his jawline, as he melted against his embrace. Jimin never spoke his husband’s name in front of the god, not wanting to anger him further - but it was no secret either.

“My love,” Jimin whispered, cupping Namjoon’s face to be able to kiss him again and again. This is where he belonged. Right next to him; but unfortunately, fate wasn’t on their side, nor had it been their decision. How could the god of love be with the one ruling the underworld. “Don’t let me go, please.”

“I’m not planning to.” Was the answer, a horse dirty promise with an underlying softness and affection that only someone who knew him would see. “Maybe I should treat you like your husband and keep you from getting out of my sight.”

Jimin let Namjoon manhandle him easily, walking backwards until he hit the bedframe and climbed onto it. “Maybe you should.” His smile was soft, something that spoke of so much love that he had for him.

Once it was only the taste of the forbidden, that had brought Jimin down into the underworld to see for himself what the god was made of. Many spoke of him, some said he was the most powerful man they’d ever met, others told him about his anger but all of them were in awe about his handsomeness. Of course, he wasn’t beautiful like Jimin, but he was close and when the young god had seen the true beauty that had been his heart he knew he had lost his heart to him. He shouldn’t have come down here back then. He had absolutely no business to be with the death, but for Namjoon he came back over and over again.

“You wouldn’t have to chain me to keep me in your sight,” Jimin whispered, when the god hovered over him, “I’m already bound to you.”

Namjoon’s face turned into an uncomfortable expression. “Don’t tell me he chained you up!” He couldn’t have found out about the two of them or it wouldn’t be Jimin at his home, flirting with him but the rage of another god wreaking havoc in his world. However Jimin wasn’t exactly the most faithful person and he had cheated on his husband before so maybe the other simply suspected something. Even though he was just as guilty of adultery as Jimin. One of the rare things the two gods had left in common.

Jimin soothed over Namjoon’s cheeks, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, my love.” The god of love, leaned back down, closing his eyes as he felt up the soft sheets around him. Namjoon’s bed had always been his favorite place to be, especially naked. “You should only worry about my body and how you keep me warm. I’m still a little cold.” He giggled as his hand wandered up to Namjoon’s robe, before undoing it slowly.

“You see, that’s not something I need to worry about.” It was nice to see how comfortable Jimin felt around him as he stretched himself out on his bed, no self consciousness or insecurity left in his eyes. Jimin trusted him - and the other way round of course. Namjoon gave his lover a promising smile before summoning a few small little flames of hellfire that danced around his fingertips, warming them up before he touched Jimin’s skin. Technically he could hurt Jimin with it if he really tried but a handful of flames would bring nothing but warmth to the others skin.

Jimin gasped, arching his back into Namjoon’s touch as he closed his eyes letting him do with him as he pleased. He loved the warmth that always surrounded Namjoon. When Namjoon’s hand moved down towards his hips, Jimin turned around on his stomach, wiggling his bottom in front of him cutely. “Mhm, still cold…”

Namjoon took this as an invitation to plaster his body all over the younger to ‘warm him up’. He loved to feel the god’s soft skin against his own. Too many gods felt invincible and so confident in their beauty and powers that they didn’t take care of themselves but Jimin was excelling in it: his skin was as soft as silk and as rosy as blossom petals.

Jimin loved to feel the weight on him, the soft kisses that were placed against his skin. Namjoon knew how to treat him right. Jimin had never noticed how easily others took his beauty for granted, using him and his body for entirely selfish reasons. He’d learned it, the first night he spend in the underworld, when Namjoon didn’t push himself onto him. It had startled him so much, that he had wanted to kill the god for not appreciating him. Luckily Namjoon was faster, his hand keeping a tight hold onto his wrist and Jimin realized the truth. Namjoon showed him respect.

“This is much better, but there’s one thing…” Jimin looked over his shoulder, moving his hips gently, so Namjoon could feel it right at his groin. “You’re still wearing too many layers..:”

“If it makes you move like this it’s worth it…” Namjoon’s hand came to rest against the other’s hip, guiding him gently against himself. Jimin was pure grace, every arch of his spine was a delight to watch, every shudder of his breath music to Namjoon’s ears. He loved to observe and sometimes, when his willpower felt really strong he liked to watch Jimin touch himself. Jimin could be so eager, so willing and seeing him unravel beautifully in his bed by his own hand was a sight he would never forget. He didn’t have that patience tonight, he needed to feel him. Therefore he gave in to Jimin’s request without teasing or stalling, getting rid of his clothes as effortlessly as possible. He didn’t have the finesse to strip as mouthwateringly and promising as Jimin sometimes did for him, showing just enough of what he had to offer that it had want burning through him until he snapped and pulled the younger in, taking him in whatever half-dressed state he was.

Jimin had turned to watch Namjoon, biting down onto his lip as his eyes took in all of Namjoon’s beauty. He loved seeing the god like this, unprotected and so soft – just for him. If his servants only knew how soft their master could be. It was a secret Jimin would keep forever.

The god of love opened up his legs to invite Namjoon back in between as he kneeled in front of him and Jimin wrapped his arms around his waist. Leaving a trail of kisses along his stomach, he let his hands soothe over the god’s strong thighs and up his bottom. Namjoon tipped his chin up, pushing his legs a little further apart as he kept his gaze on him. “I wish I was mortal,” Jimin whispered, leaning his head into his touch, placing a kiss against the palm of his hand. “So, I could die and you could spare my soul to forever be with you.”

“Would you really like that? Being entirely mine to do with as I pleased?” He ended with a little wink. As much as they teased each other for having caught feelings they both knew that there was something more between them then the usual short-lived lust and passion that would die out after a few decades. This went deeper but they were too scared to really address it or felt too vulnerable baring their hearts for the other entirely. And even if they wanted there was still so much unsaid, so many things they couldn’t change. Jimin divorcing his husband was not an option because Hephaestus simply wouldn’t take it well - and a temper tantrum from a god could mean destroyed worlds. In the beginning Namjoon had thought that his hellfire was what had drawn Jimin in as it might remind him of his husband (Hephaestus was the god of fire after all) but then he had learned that it was rather the opposite: Jimin loved him because he wasn’t like the man he had to marry.

“If I could keep my beauty,” Jimin giggled, stealing a kiss from Namjoon, “Then yes, I wouldn’t care if I get your love in return.” He let his hands wander down the god’s strong arms, feeling him up with a soft touch. Jimin has never said it out loud, but the last time he had parted from him, his mind still hazy from their night that they have spend together, Jimin thought that he might love Namjoon. Maybe almost as much as he loved himself. With a strong grip, Jimin pulled the god flush against his body, heart beating fast as he could feel the heat between them. “You could give me a taste of what it would feel like,” He whispered against his lips, “To be entirely yours.”

“Nothing could take your beauty away, not even mortality or death,” Stated Namjoon confidently, claiming Jimin’s lips for another kiss. Those cheeky little things Jimin placed onto his lips always left him hungry for more and he had a suspicion that Jimin totally knew it. With a little chuckle he leaned forward. This time it was on him to tease, “Who says you deserve it, my pretty lover?”

Jimin pouted cutely, whining as he blinked up at the god. “Because I do. I’m beautiful, I’m giving myself over to you. Don’t you want me? Everyone wants me.” He stated, looking away as if he was offended. “I could ask one of your demons then. I bet they’d love to show me.” Jimin placed a kiss on Namjoon’s neck, sucking on the sweet spot, but not enough to leave a bruise.

Namjoon’s eyes darkened visible as he looked at Jimin’s naked form, eyeing the pout on his lips that was too cute not to be taken advantage of and kissed. “They know better than to do anything with you. The desire might be there but I hope their will to live is stronger than their wish to get a piece of you. It would be a short lived pleasure.”

Jimin sighed as he let himself fall onto his back, spreading his legs a little further to give Namjoon the perfect view. “Then who else will show me? If you don’t think I deserve it…” His hands wandered down his stomach, as he let out a soft moan, closing his eyes, the mere thought of pleasuring himself making him shudder.

Namjoon placed his hands on Jimin’s knees, a gentle weight that opened them up a little further even though the young god was obscenely exposed already. He just loved to admire Jimin’s flexibility. It came in handy when they were having quick, rough sex in between their busy time schedules when he could bend Jimin over any surface they found. But like this, in his bedroom was his favourite. When he could take his time.

“Do it if you dare.”

Jimin bit his lip, a shiver running down his spine as he stilled in his movements. His eyes were focused on the god above him, licking his lips in sweet anticipation, before diving deeper. But Jimin stood no chance, not that he wanted to. Namjoon’s hands clasped onto his wrists and lifted his arms over his head, holding them down onto the mattress. The god’s mouth covered his in a slow, passionate kiss that made Jimin moan and arche against his body.

Namjoon’s touch that inflamed his mind and his own desperate need to have him closer. He yearned to be with him all night, making love to his warm body. Jimin wanted every part of him to touch his own. He wanted him to know how much he loved him. It just felt so right to love him and be loved by him. “Take me,” Jimin whispered, “I’m yours.” His heart swelled with the love he couldn’t deny any longer, when Namjoon finally gave in to Jimin’s please, burning up from the reckless desire that overwhelmed him entirely.

He sank into him, slow and deep and swallowed Jimin’s sweet, sweet moan with his kiss. Not even hellfire could make him feel as warm as holding Jimin could and so he indulged himself in his guilty pleasure, hoping that their flame would continue to burn for a long time.

#minjoon #bangtanxm #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #minjoonrecs #jimin #namjoon #drabbles #flowerwrites06 #ask #imma say it now :D ofc this is not correct mythology #but only half #because fiction and creativity ya know #before the greek mythology police is coming

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theharellan · 4 years ago

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: stolen from @dansiere tagging: @ghiassan, @deathsreflection, @altuspavus, @windrunnerrs (velanna), @hopewrought, @willbeshot, @seahaloed (iron bull), @asterfed (noctis), @ anyone who wants to steal it! also multis feel free to choose a different character

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated (i’m open to roleplaying with non-dragon age characters, and have AUs for other fandoms)

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. solas is both wildly popular and wildly hated. he’s been more consistently popular than the controversial women in the series, like sera or vivienne, who have only recently begun to get to the point where their tags are less vitriolic (although i’m sure it’s still out there), but there’s still a sizable hatedom that can’t have his name breathed in their vicinity w/o them talking abt how much they hate him. even if you’re currently cosplaying him!

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. again, you have ppl who are super into him and ppl who think he’s ugly. my personal opinion is that i think he’s weirdly pretty, and wish ppl would commit more to his unconventional features rather than try to chisel him into sb more traditionally attractive and that ppl who don’t find him attractive would maybe chill w/ calling him ugly. find him unattractive by all means, but lets embrace the fact that inquisition let their love interests have skin flaws etc and accept that some won’t be our cups of tea.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. its hard to deny at this point tbh.

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. frustrating as the hate in the tags he has enough fans that i couldnt say he’s underrated w/ a straight face.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO. he’s the reason the game starts with a bang and not the inevitable dissolution of the conclave b/c the sides are disparate.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. regardless of solas’ relationship with the inquisitor, there are parallels and contrasts in their stories and he also is the reason they survive inquisition.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. fen’harel is well-known and revered, if feared, among the dalish, yet at the same time he’s not remembered for a lot besides locking the gods away-- and the context of that decision has also been lost. as solas he’s relatively unknown until inquisition and especially trespasser.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. again, polarising!! he has loyal agents and people are willing to speak well of him despite everything, including his enemies sometimes (depending mostly on the inquisitor).

How strictly do you follow canon? — generally i try to have a canon basis for my interpretation, even if i interpret the text differently than the author.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — solas is an immortal who is simultaneously jaded and very much invested in the small moments of life. far from being weary of the day-to-day lives of ordinary people, it is systems and orders he is most tired of. he walks an interesting line that feels far less misanthropic than other immortal characters i’ve experienced, yet still he’s quite cynical. as a character who has fought against religious based tyranny before, but in a completely different era, he is in a unique position where what he sees around him is both horrifyingly familiar and yet completely new. it allows an exploration of the wrongs of thedas’ society from an outsider’s perspective. his motivations are complex and multifaceted, often condemnable and yet also understandable. his character arc in inquisition (if befriended, or regardless in the case of my solas) takes him from a dispassionate, disconnected antagonist to someone deeply invested in the people of thedas, deeply conflicted and actively hoping he will be proven wrong again. i think his story is a testament to human (or elven, or dwarven, or-) connection and how even when we resist we can’t resist creating bonds with the people in our lives. i personally see this bond going beyond the inquisitor hence why i play low-approval solas as conflicted as high-approval, if not when it comes to the inquisitor.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — solas is selfish and motivated solely by revenge, he’s clinging to a past that clearly no longer exists, if you ignore all the people from it who are still alive. he’s totally unaware of all his flaws and never owns up to any mistakes ever. no, i haven’t listened to a single word solas has said in my life why do you ask. he’s also critical of my faves which means he’s #cancelled, there is clearly no validity to what he’s saying. ksjdf no but in all seriousness i think a lot of reasons ppl don’t find solas interesting are just... weird readings of his character that sometimes have no basis in the text of inquisition, but also there are plenty of perfectly valid reasons to not find him interesting. usually those ppl don’t like... talk abt how much they don’t find him interesting constantly tho. they just chill and aren’t invested in this particular villain. for one thing i think the game missed out on opportunities for exploring how someone who may not have even had a body at the beginning of his existence would feel about gender and sexuality, so making him presumably straight and cis was a boring choice. i also think that the dragon age games being very protagonist-centric hurts solas’ character, there’s no real reason why the inquisitor is the only one who can throw his plans into question but making the player the center of the universe means he’s not allowed to change due to the effects of other companions or NPCs. thank god this is rp and i do what i want.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — i have a history degree so when the inquisition companions were being teased, solas describing bias in primary sources from the memories he’s seen got me interested in him. but my first playthrough i didn’t actually take him with me all too often, i think my main party was dorian-blackwall-varric. i liked him, and i think he or dorian were my first friends in skyhold, but my initial interest was in other characters. between his dialogue that appealed to the historian in me tho and how his spirit opinions sort of turned everything i’d felt about spirits in the last two games on its head, i started vibing with him more the farther i went in. like merrill set me up for the “spirits are people” thing and solas hit it out of the park. then temple of mythal happened, and i did bring solas with me there. i found his dialogue fascinating and also suspicious, i’d just finished masked empire like the day before da:i came out so i definitely thought solas was an ancient elf in the same vein as felassan. it was after temple of mythal that i actually decided to make his blog, although like as one idk linchpin to cement my status as solas trash... i was hit BAD by the banter bug on my first playthrough, probably got like a dozen banters total. but then at some point late in the game i took solas to the forbidden oasis and he wouldn’t stop talking to people, and i really loved his banter with the rest of my party at the time.

What keeps your inspiration going? — replaying inquisition, new DA content when the bioware gods deign to grant us a lifeline, but the biggest thing is my rp partners. i wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the people i write with, new and old. my activity of late hasn’t been the best, work and the summer heat has really been sapping me of energy, and does even during years when we aren’t going through a pandemic. but it’s the thought of my rp partners and love of solas that keeps me coming back.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? i have my doubts sometimes, but i think i do ok.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? there is no headcanon too small for me.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. but not lately * gestures to the low activity * i’ve been in this cycle where i get anxious abt late replies, so prioritise them, then burn myself out and can’t write the fics i want. i’ve had two i’ve been DYING to write tho i just... need to find the space in my brain to let myself.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO. i mean it depends on the day. if i work closing shifts at my store it gets very quiet and boring around 8:30 so i spent the next 90 minutes thinking about character stuff.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF?

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO / SOMETIMES.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO / SORTA.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — i’m going to say ‘no’ because like, i don’t ask for criticism. this is a hobby based on my interpretation of a character, if you think i write solas too soft then you’re welcome to think that, but i’m happy with the balance i’ve struck with his internal versus external behaviour and how he changes based upon who he’s speaking to. if you think i’m erasing straight people by making solas pan then ksjdfs. ok.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — yes!!! even if they retread ground already trodden, a) my interpretation may have adjusted since the last time i played or b) a reminder is nice. if it’s new stuff then it’s fun to think about.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — it’d depend on why they disagree. if they just disagree on a subjective opinion about what i took from a certain line, then they’re welcome to their opinion but i don’t necessarily care to hear it. if it is unintentionally hurtful then i would like to know. although rather than a comment i’d rather a non-anonymous message.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — same as the above.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — if they’re vocal about it i typically just unfollow / softblock if i was following in the first place. people can feel how they want about solas, but i’ve found over the years that if people really hate solas ooc it can often bleed into their ic interactions. it’s really weird seeing your character being brought up repeatedly in threads with others specifically to dunk on, for no reason other than i guess solas is living rent free in their heads, so at least we have that in common. but anyway unfollowing is just the best choice to avoid getting kinda pressed if i’m having a bad day.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — roleplay is the wild west of writing, so i think it’d depend on what the error was. coming at me like “you shouldn’t start a sentence with a preposition” would get a laugh, but i don’t edit my replies much if at all and mistakes will 100% happen. pointing out typos is chill so long as you do it politely.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — it depends! i’ve learned that being too easy going actually just means i’m subjecting myself to negative emotions to please people. so i’ve gotten less easy going as the years go by. how does one define “easy going” anyway? does asking that question mean i am objectively not easy going? the longer this thought goes on the more the answer seems to be “probably not,” but i like to think it could be a lot worse.

#( long post )#( ooc )#( about me )

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flo-machina · 5 years ago

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God AU: Fnipper

The Keeper of Secrets

DEITY OF: Scholars. Warlocks. Cultists. Diviners. Spies. Hermits. Children.

ASSOCIATED WITH: Secrets. Knowledge. The Forbidden. Mystery. The Eldritch.

SACRED PLANTS: Mount Diablo Buckwheat (Eriogonum truncatum)

SACRED STONES/GEMS: Moonstone.

SACRED ANIMALS: Owls.

COLORS: Black, Purple, Gray.

FOOD: Wine or Spirits, Candy or Confections.

SCENTS: Parchment & Vellum, Mold & Must, Rain Upon Stone.

ALIGNMENT: True Neutral

ACCEPTED OFFERINGS/WAYS TO HONOR:

It is said that The Keeper of Secrets is an ally and enemy to no one and everyone. This demigod has no known agenda but to hoard exclusive knowledge, and to be the ultimate arbiter of its access. The Keeper of Secrets is fickle and loyal only to Himself. To worship is to pray for his favor, that He may confide in you that which only He knows and will give to no one else.

Times in history where great troves of knowledge were destroyed or lost have been attributed to Fnipper, the Keeper of Secrets, claiming them as his own. Times of great revelation and discovery have been attributed to his generosity. There are even some who say that it was Fnipper, Keeper of Secrets, who taught Man how to create fire, often regarded as the first true Discovery in history.

Scholars, Researchers, and those who search for knowledge within the stacks can earn favor by pouring an additional glass of whatever Wine or Spirit accompanies their studies. Some have been known to burn candles inscribed with His name and sigils, and to take no respite in their labors until it reaches its end. Should He approve of their selection and/or dedication, it is said that He will gift a simple gesture, a slight nudge in the direction they wish to go in the form of Divine Inspiration, said to be “Whispering Hints In Your Ear.”

Adventurers who seek forgotten relics, ancient tomes, or hidden truths often credit The Keeper of Secrets with both their successes and their setbacks. If you find what you are looking for, the Keeper of Secrets has given you a boon. If you do not, He has deemed you unworthy of the privilege. They have been known to pay Him tribute by leaving behind a memento of their past, a secret of themselves... the more Damning, the more of his favor you may earn (it is said).

Children, famously reverent of the sanctity of the Secret, have been known to recite rhymes that invoke Fnipper, Keeper of Secrets, in lieu of prayer when they wish to taunt one of their fellows for keeping (or not keeping) a secret. Similarly, Children may invoke Fnipper if they wish to learn something kept from them due to their youth, or if they wish to protect their own secrets from being discovered by others. The colloquially accepted Tribute amongst children is candy or confections which conceal their insides, such as sweet bean buns, jelly donuts, chocolate-covered variety assortments, and so on.

Approval from the Keeper of Secrets, and therefore access to His wealth of information, is otherwise earned largely through Determination. Your motives require no ethical or moral purity, the Keeper of Secrets determines whether you are fit to receive that which you seek based on whether or not he views you as having Earned It in the pursuit. There is no known metric or method for the means of this approval. It, too, is secret... but one thing is agreed upon by all of His followers or observers:

Suffer not the Indiscreet.

Tagged By: @thornbolts (This one ruled, tbh)

Tagging: @yeehawelf, @manclamps, @ms-winford, @hinahinagray (Floe), @alastren

#Fnipper Folkor Zookenheimersteinbergbaum #Wow Rp #Dash Games #writing #Secrets #World of Warcraft #Wyrmrest Accord #Character Writing

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twitchesandstitches · 5 years ago

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Empress Terezi’s Voracious Pregnancy Pt 1

Part one of a commission I did for @alt-hammer, set in a bloodswap AU where Terezi is the fuchsia heiress, has taken in Karkat and is working to redeem the Alternian empire, with digestion if need be! And repopulating it with her massive fertile self, too.

It is a sequel to a previous commission I did, set in the same continuity; if you want a little more context, that may be helpful to read!

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The world was. In one of the language of its native species, Earth. That it was labeled as such on the updated star charts of the Alternian interstellar archives, and not perhaps ‘Vacant Lot #21519’ was perhaps a big bright sign about how different the reign of the new empress-in-progress, Terezi Peixes, would be. No more war, not if they didn’t have to fight. No more expansion through violence, no more wiping out other alien races, no more injustice for one ancient monster’s lust for bloodshed.

Of course, Terezi mused as she reclined her monstrously gravid body in the comfort of a pleasure ship parked in a sea in a pleasantly cool climate, there were… extenuating circumstances regarding the Condesce’s actions. These had been taken into consideration, and dismissed.

She knew things, now. The knowledge burned in the back of her head, curling at the edges. The visions had shown her so much, and it had given her a better understanding of the situation. It didn’t matter much to her if the Condesce had been manipulated into being a monster by forces beyond her control; a monster she was, and Terezi knew what to do with monsters.

Perhaps, they would call her the Devourer of Injustice. That sounded good, and accurate.

Might be a while before, right now, they called her a true empress; Terezi contemplated the thousands of planets she now controlled, the empire quite firmly in her grip after years of war and battle and political scheming against the Condesce, to finally have her ousted, but the rules of succession were clear: the Condesce, wherever she had fled, was still alive.

No dead empress, no empire for her. She could wait, and manage it by proxy until it was official. In the meantime, she had other plans, and many worlds to take care of.

Terezi’s handmaidens (trolls of every caste, humans of every kind) fussed around her, trying to keep her clothes from popping off their knots, a task hampered a bit by the powerful fertility field she emanated. The handmaids were all outrageously curvy to begin with now, but closer to Terezi, they bloomed into pregnancy, their bellies, breasts, and hips all expanding. Bronya, the purpleblooded leader of the handmaidens, kept an eye on who was too pregnant or not to serve, her enormous body a faint echo of Terezi’s own body, and directed them appropriately.

Terezi enjoyed it, and patted her enormous belly softly, giggling as she felt the eggs growing. Not just eggs, either, though there were thousands of them distending her belly into a massive orb low enough to nearly reach the floor, and extending out by nearly twice her height. Nearly eleven feet long, and over fifteen feet across, her gestation guts packed to the brim with eggs and the developing young of dozens of other species, and she felt more growing in every day!

It felt so good; her door-breakingly wide hips jerked unconsciously at the very satisfying feeling, waves of pleasure rolling out from her core at every sensation from her womb, no matter how minute. She could feel their complexity growing, however gradual and minor now, and it felt… so… good!

What felt even better was the love radiating across from her, from the smaller troll gently rubbing her belly, his small horns sliding protectively against her skin, and shy kisses dotted over the slopes closest to him. Each kiss made a bloom of delights on her flesh, for she was a fuchsia-blood and her blood was so cold, but he was a mutant remnant, his blood as red as the most forbidden candies, and his touch was a sweet burn. The handmaidens cooed and nuzzled around him.

Terezi smiled and stood up. This took some doing, given her sheer bulk; she was very short for a fuchsiablood, but then she wouldn’t grow to her full height for… god. Centuries, probably, of constant feasting to pump as many resources into her body as possible, giving it the lavish attention it needed for a proper imperial figure, and she only had so many calories to spare for her own body. Her powers diverted it all, instead, to her unborn offspring, with only a token amount to fuel her own growth. The handmaidens circled around, helping her up and encouraging her.

Even so, when she met him, she had been barely a few inches taller than his slight, short frame. Now she was almost a full head taller than him, her shoulders broad, her sides enormously thickened, and her breasts swelling so big that if she wasn’t blind, they would have made it very hard to see right in front of her.

And he looked so skinny to her. Well, he didn’t look like anything to her; she had been blind since birth, and she sensed the world in eldritch, alien ways, but she knew what he looked like. And he looked too damn skinny! “Are you eating right?” She said, waving a hand towards a plate piled high with food larger than him. She had fearsome dietary requirements, and it was but a light snack to her. But Karkat always got to eat first, even if she got to tease and taunt him all the while. “Go on, have some!”

Karkat shook his head, and hugged her belly a while longer. He laid a hand against her round belly, claws dragging on her lovingly. “Nah. I’m full up.”

Terezi looked skeptical, but her belly rumbled. “Seriously, I’m good with it,” she said, even as within her thousands of appetites cried out to be sated, so she waved a hand, and summoned forth the dread powers of two sources: the first was the psychokinetic powers of the rustbloods, with the control of goldblood psionics.

And empowering it was something… else. Something that, just for a moment, made her blind eyes glow brilliantly fuchsia.

The plate rocketed to her, and her jaws opened unnaturally wide; rows and rows of sharp teeth gleamed, and a hugely thick tongue telescoped out to snatch it and swallowed it whole, in a single gulp. Plate and all went straight down her gullet. She smacked her engorged lips happily, the food and plate consumed almost instantly.

She was hungry still; she needed something more… filling. And just, too!

She checked the alerts, and she smiled as she saw the report from Nepeta of her latest hunt. “Karkat, we got some business to deal with.”

Bronya bowed, on cue, gesturing so that the other handmaidens prepared all the essential things to avoid little problems like Empress Peixes getting stuck in doorways, or breaking them (again).

With an effort, she telekinetically activated the little drone designed to support her belly and it powered on, floating up and letting her walk in the special strut for a troll woman who had hips nearly six feet across, and carrying nearly four hundred pounds of meat on her backside… per each cheek, no less! Her gigantic butt wobbled sweetly, and as she advanced past Karkat, she smacked her butt into his hip with a flirtatiously blown kiss.

She smirked at the flurry of panic-arousal-awe swelling up in his mind, at once, the emotions mixing with thoughts that translated to her mind as visual images, and very sweet ones at that.

“C’mon,” she said. “Can’t be lazing about all day. Got work to do!” She strode off, her gigantic breasts shifting in their vaporwave-colored robe wrappings, a pleasant contrast to her exposed belly, and the population freshly gestating in it. She had been pregnant for several years now, and she just kept getting bigger. And getting more eggs; and thanks to other efforts, gestating aliens in her, to one day repopulate the worlds her ancestor had destroyed.

And the remnant inside her, slowly digesting every day but working hard to subvert her, whispered that she could make all creation bow to her, remake everything as she wanted. All she had to do… was let the angel in.

Terezi ignored the lingering echoes of the puppet. She felt a sense of resentment from it, and she smirked.

Terezi, her webbed claws gently holding Karkat’s hand and fingering the consort band her human followers had inspired her to give to him, took Karkat and wandered to a marginally busier part of the ship.

She saw… an amazing sight as they entered. At least, to her, because there were of course trolls working there. Administrative duties, monitoring reports and information received, wandering around trying to pretend they were doing work… but they weren’t just violets and purples. There were warmbloods, and midbloods, not just ceruleans and up; their uniforms were a rainbow, marked with the sea dragon of her uniforms that marked them as loyal to her rather than the Condesce, and effectively declared them standing behind her on the day came that the Condesce was finally cornered and Terezi took revenge for the suffering of untold trillions.

Her ravenous gut rumbled at the thought.

And, one might note, every single one of the troll women present were pregnant. Not as much as Terezi, but all of them had massive bellies, at least down to their knees, packed with over a hundred eggs each. Their bodies had fertile curves to match; breasts bigger than their heads, at the least, and hips that tended to bump into others, and from the way they kept rubbing their bellies, they quite enjoyed it.

But it was not just trolls there. Her mind’s eye touched hundreds of humans in this part of the ship alone; small ones, skinny ones, tall ones, ones that were head over heels in love with the far curvier and lovely trolls… ah, but that was most of them. And, like the trolls, all the women were pregnant, impossibly gravid. Those who wandered within Terezi’s proximity swelled up even more, their clothes popping and their bellies growing even bigger, and it was this that alerted them all to her arrival.

Well, that, and the thunderous creak of the door as Terezi’s approaching belly wrecked it. Her hips got stuck in it, and with a terrific smashing noise, there wasn't a door at ALL anymore. A novice handmaiden, a ceruleanblood named Chixie who often sang to Terezi, winced.

“Sup,” Terezi said, still holding Karkat’s hand.

Karkat felt it, and squeezed her hand tighter. She squeezed his hand back, glowing with pride. Possibly literally; she didn’t have the best handle on that.

There was a bit of commotion, with whispers about from the ultra-fertile women: ‘It’s the Empress! The Empress is here!...” - Why didn’t anyone let us know!” - “Would have got snacks…” - “Oh… wow, she is getting so BIG…” - “Shit, she is HOT.” - “Oh my god, you didn’t really just say that, I mean we’re all thinking it, but, wow! You humans…!”

Terezi laughed, riding on the votes of confidence, and turned as Karkat greeted a troll approaching them. “Hey, Kirela!”

The troll approaching them was taller than Terezi, despite being younger than her, so bouncy and energetic she skipped from one step to the other; it reminded Terezi of herself, with how enormously buxom the younger troll was. Not as big as Terezi herself, but close! She even had a similar figure.

Kirela came, in a lovely skirt-suit that clung quite close to her figure (thick, even by generous troll standards) and she bowed low. “My empress, why didn’t you call!” She made like she was about to hug her, but restrained the impulse. She blushed, and settled for smiling wide, especially as her own pregnant belly began to swell, eggs spontaneously generating just by being near Terezi. She tried not to swoon from it.

Terezi chuckled, quite fond of her; Kirela had been born when Terezi hadn’t even successfully conquered the empire and set the Condesce into flight. Kirela was a beloved proof of concept, the result of a successful cloning plot to resurrect lost bloodlines and caste spectrums… and her eyes were a bright, lime-green shade that was a victory over the ways of the old Alternia. Just by being alive, Kirela proved they could do better.

“Relax, I’m just checking in on things. Taking the boytoy out for a stroll!” She elbowed Karkat, laughing boisterously.

Karkat scoffed. “Hey, I am a CONSORT! ...Boytoys are temporary, and I’m for life.”

Kirela smirked, a hint of playfulness in her lime gaze. She looked a bit wistful; Terezi thought to ask about her own lover, a rather sarcastic and witty goldblood, but felt now wasn’t the time for personal enquiries. Imperial business called. “I got an update; seems we got my royal duty to take care of?”

Kirela’s eyes widened. “Oh! Well, you’re not strictly required to take time to deal with THAT, my imperial curvaceousness!”

Karkat turned a look towards Terezi. “Come on… you’re not REALLY gonna make people say that, are you?”

Terezi snickered playfully. She didn’t answer him, though. To Kirela, she said, “Listen up, I’m STARVING and the sooner we handle this, the better. All right?”

Kirela nodded. “As you wish! I’ll make the arrangements promptly!”

She left, some senior handmaidens with her, and took the two of them to a distant part of the ship; a high security one, with many guards (most of them either very big, or looking that way with their powered armor to bulk up, and with weapons to match) nodding respectfully at them. Karkat, the greatest of the Empress’ guardians, gave a few of them orders on proper etiquette with weapon handling in his loud tones that would be vitriolic if you didn’t listen to what he was actually saying.

Eventually, they came to a large cell, packed with Condesce loyalists, all of them with wanted posters and bounties. Karkat advanced before Terezi’s gravid gut, her belly advanced just fast enough to prod him onwards, and otherwise cleared the room ahead of her.

Kirela left, to make the necessary preparations; sign the paperwork, finalize the execution rites, announce the ‘hah hah, the Condesce-supporting bastards got what’s coming to them’, and so on. Terezi made herself comfortable, lounging on a throne wheeled out to her by an especially large human woman. Terezi grinned at her, a long time ally from a time when Terezi had sought refuge on Earth, in more uncertain times. “Jade!” She lunged forward, hugging her. Jade giggled, and it was amazing to see Terezi actually lift her up; standard issue armor could only be modified so much, and it looked nearly tight against Jade’s absolutely massive massive body, her shoulders wide, her frame all amazonian hugeness, and her breasts gigantic spheres easily four feet high, and five feet across each! And, just like every woman there, her closeness to Terezi made her extremely pregnant.

She hugged her empress like the old friend she was. In the background, some of the other guards (all trusted confideants and supporters) waved cheerfully to Terezi. Karkat nodded to them, welcoming them by name: “Hey, Chahut” to a very buxom and enormous oliveblood that winked at them, “Xefros, stop saluting!” to a hunky violetblood with a wedding ring on his finger, “Nepeta! Back from the fringes?” In the meantime, Terezi’s handmaidens spread out, both to act as the guardians they were trained as, and to say hello to their friends among the guards here as well. (One of the male handmaids, a human named Dave, sidled up to Jade as she simply picked him up and kissed him in an extremely passionate way. Not entirely professional, but Terezi liked it relaxed.)

This last came to a fairly short but extremely curvy, and buxom, blueblood. She was still wearing the official uniform not of a guard, but of a renegade hunter; a dark coat, in Terezi’s colors, and armor beneath. Most of it did an insufficient job of fully covering her figure and pregnant belly, which was just too expansive for most tailors to deal with. Nepeta Moolah saluted them both, bouncing a bit as she did.

“My Empress!” she said to Terezi, and indicated the prisoners. “Brought you a real FEAST today!”

Ah, so Nepeta was responsible for today’s offering. Terezi gave her a high five. “Good work, Nepeta!”

“All’s in a day’s work, your imperial thiccness!” Nepeta stood back in a guard position, ready to help in the upcoming festivities if she had to.

As Kirela and the other administrators attended to the prisoners, Terezi let herself relax, and her mind wander.

Her poise softened. Her public guise was not needed her, witness only to friends, close allies and those that the world would prosper from their deaths. She abandoned it, the act she personally thought of as Badass But Reliable Empress. The whole point of that particular persona was to be imposing but… friendly, she supposed? It involved a lot of swagger, mostly metaphorically but plenty physically. She could swagger while standing still.

She leaned back, enjoying the sensations of being a mother, the eggs and babies cramming her gestation guts, the way they were packed together so tightly, the light of their growing complexity a pleasant reminder to her.

They could be anything she wanted, whispered a faint voice in the back of her mind. Or perhaps her stomach, like the ghost of a meal that was yet to fully digest. There was some truth to that, and she tried to ignore it.

Terezi had a secret, that not even anyone else there knew. That the immense power she harbored, that she said made her a guardian to all the universe, came from something terrible and… she didn’t even know what it was.

Old texts called the empty, heartless man on the moon the First Guardian of history. One of many, they said.

Though not, as it turned out, immune to the digestion and power assimilation of a fuchsiablood.

Even so, the curl of power, resting in the back of her mind, was always there. And every day, she resisted the urge to fully exploit it. The power to mold her mind into whatever shape she wanted, and the temptation to look forward and shape the future.

Tweak circumstances, random factors, and force her will onto all reality. Make it so that her desires became the future, her hopes molding fate into her own design.

It wasn’t the only power at her disposal. Without thinking too much about it, Terezi exhaled and floated gently into the air, a fuchsia aura gathering around her as she floated up, her immense bulk moving with a surprising amount of grace.

This wasn’t psionics. She had psionics, and this was something else. It was something… older.

She had not told her attendants about this. She had only vaguely told Karkat about it, and she felt guilty about hiding anything from her first and closest confidant.

“I found something on the moon,” she told him once, felt digesting in her belly and the outraged screams of a bested god still loud in her memory. ‘I think we might be able to push the time table on my plan to take things over from the Empress.”

Karkat had looked at her, puzzled and afraid. “How!?”

She had grinned, flexed her hand, and with a thought-

She ripped the entire fortress out of the ground and launched them into space, traveling millions of miles in a few seconds. “I got a bit of a boost.”

Some of the things Terezi had seen in the visions pestering her suggested that there would be consequences towards devouring the… the strange little demon she had digested on the moon. It had been a just thing, killing the creature that had wronged her people so badly. But, if the words from the grateful and ancient rustblood were right… there would be consequences to absorbing the powers of what a few ruined ancient texts called a First Guardian.

Well. That was a later problem.

“Dinner’s up!” Jade said cheerfully as Kirela waved in the guards, and a large number of prisoners. They all had a uniform look; most of them were highbloods (violets, blues and ceruleans, a few in midblood shades, and a sly rust), and they all looked to have been well-fed. Well, until recently, deprived of the comforts and luxuries of grinding people down with the Condesce’s high heeled fascist boot.

Terezi leaned back, jutting her massive belly out, and the hunger twisted so hard it was like her spine was trying to escape. “Your crimes,” she said, though she was so very hungry, and was still committed to her laws. “Are many. Most relevant is aiding and abetting the former Empress, now in exile. Helping her at the expense of, I dunno, literally everyone else in the entire Empire; that puts you, by proxy, guilty of her own crimes. Attempted xenocide, participating in xenocide, the torment of lowbloods, perpetuating the corrupt order of Alternia before me…” Terezi whistled. “And we know the penalty for that.” She smacked her lips. Her guts rumbled. “Don’t we.”

Terezi zeroed in on the rustblood, who was patently ignoring her. “Nepeta…?” The blueblood in question swaggered forward and picked up the rustblood, forcing him over to Terezi. The other prisoners jerked back as the guards raised their weapons to forestall any escape, and the rustblood yelped as Nepeta dragged him over Terezi’s belly.

“What are you doing!?” he demanded. She scanned his mind, and found enough evidence of his crimes to support her belief that he was, by far, the most unjust of them all. It sickened her, but the evil ones tasted really good, and digested so well.

A perfect demonstration!

Ooh. He was chunky. Terezi cooed as she felt his biceps and chest drag across her massive breasts, and she grinned as he recoiled from her impossibly soft body, and the abyssal cold of her body temperature. She gave him no more words, but took a telekinetic grip on him, and pushed him up-

Just as she opened her mouth as wide as possible.

His head slid right into her throat, and she swallowed him whole, not bothering to savor him much. She was too hungry, she was burning! She needed food, now! The babies were HUNGRY! His horns slipped and her throat squeezed him, pushing him so fast he was almost launched into her gut

The prisoners recoiled, the guards watched in mild interest, and Karkat sat loyally beside her, ready to defend her if he had to, and she gulped, dropping her meal right into her belly. It didn’t even make a bulge. She sighed as her digestive fluids went to work; fully capable of melting down even a starship, mere troll flesh and bone had no chance. In seconds, he was digested, and Terezi visibly grew slightly taller.

Mostly, it was just her breasts that swelled up, and her stomach ripple with pleasure. “Mmm… my favorite part of the job.” She batted her eyes, licking her lips again. She felt the tension from the prisoners rise as they now surely understood. There was no hope, no escape. There was nothing for them, but the absolute digestion they had no doubt sent thousands to in their stead, for the Condesce.

She tasted the desperation, and took her moment.

“But justice requires mercy, and I AM justice for all the Empire. So… beg mercy of me, and I will show it to you. I will give you…” she savored the words, and the double meanings she hid. “A second chance.”

A violetblood, more brave than sensible and she couldn’t fault him for that, spat at the ground. “Never!”

Terezi grinned. Bronya, on cue, easily tossed him forwards and he landed right between Terezi’s breasts, with a sloshing sound of her milk disturbed. Her hunger was sated enough that Terezi allowed herself to tease him with a sloppy kiss, the violet’s eyes going wide. Then, she sucked in, and his face and horns vanished into her suddenly gaping jaws.

She enjoyed his taste, slowly and irresistibly gulping him down. He went gradually, her tongue and her mental powers examining every inch of his body and mind, tasting him very intimately

For several minutes, she slurped him like a very meaty noodle, and her breasts pillowed up as he was pushed down. Higher and higher, as his shoulders vanished, than his hips, and his legs. With an increasingly louder slurping sound, Terezi swallowed him up, and finally with a single smack, her breasts were back to their regular height. And she had another meal in her belly.

“You sure no one wants to admit, just maybe, they were wrong?” Terezi said, and gave a mental push. Be honest, she commanded.

Again, and not to her surprise, no one said anything, but a few wavered. She gestured, picking out a few that would not relent, and opened her mouth. One, a tealblood significantly larger than she was, strained her maw as she swallowed her whole, slowly working her curling horns down her throat, and expanding her jaws to fit her all down..

Terezi’s own breasts swelled as the tealblood’s biomass was stuffed right into them.

Then a violet, her blood hue dark enough to almost be purple. She was cunning enough to meekly be still until she was inside Terezi’s throat, and then she tried to use her curved horns to best advantage and tear at Terezi’s insides. Her throat easily absorbed the damage, but Terezi gave credit where it was due. She swallowed in a single gulp, making her own point pretty plain.

Her belly swelled, pressing into her motherly thighs. The hunger faded to a tolerable degree.

She kept eating though, more and more unrepentant prisoners ferried to her unforgiving gullet. A yellowblood; two more teals (one tall, one mid-sized, both plump). Three purplebloods, and they tasted so evil Terezi couldn’t help but devour them all in a single gulp, teary-eyed at how good they tasted, and her body almost triple-bloating with their mass as they went down.

More and more were swallowed, and slowly the group twindled. Terezi kept an eye on their attitudes, gave them the right push here and there, focusing on the ones who could have been hers if not for the wrong sort of choices, if only they’d had a REAL empress to lead them… a good mother.

And finally, her plan bore fruit.

Several of the villains trembled, as perhaps only five of them were left, out of what had been a group of thirty, and then a buxom purpleblood cried out, “Mercy, your imperial perceptiveness! Mercy, mercy!”

Another tried to headbutt her. “You treacherous worm!”

Terezi waved her hand, and all the prisoners but the weeping purpleblood were pushed away. The purpleblood advanced, tears staining her face, and though she was nearly three times Terezi’s size, she fell to her knees before her, head bowed and body trembling.

“My empress,” the purpleblood begged. “Please, I plead to you! I throw myself on your mercy, please!”

Terezi, a swell of pity rising, put a calm thought in her brain, with a hunt of chucklevoodoos boosted to overwhelm even a purpleblood’s defenses. She gaped, and then her head drooped, a dopey smile on her face. “Anyone else certain they want none off my mercy?”

The others capitulated, and fast. One after another, the last prisoners all pleaded, sinking to their knees. Even the one that had called the first mercy-seeker a traitor went to her own knees as well, fear and, perhaps a bit of remorse claiming her resolve.

Terezi gently but firmly hit them with a dose of the chucklevoodoos, and they too gave in.

She extended her mind out, and commanded them to stand up. She worked a minor, mild change to them, briefly making them glow in her blood color. “You’ll have a second chance. You will get your second chance, when your time comes. Now, come here…”

The first one approached her, expression vacant. Terezi floated her up, and opened her mouth wide again.

The other prisoners, rendered into a stupor, gave no reaction and felt no fear. The prisoner in Terezi’s grip smiled faintly, perhaps just at the sight of such impressive cleavage.

Terezi appeared to kiss the prisoner. It looked that way even a she inhaled her heads, her horns. Terezi’s throat bulged as she took the rest of the prisoner in, slowly swallowing her in a sweet, tender gulp. The prisoner was examined minutely, every part of her mind examined in full, her history analyzed.

...Ah. If only this one had the chance to make the right choices.

Terezi gently swallowed, pulling the prisoner fully into her belly. The prisoner curled up, allowing her doom to take her, and though Terezi’s belly had swelled with the prisoner’s sheer bulk, it soon shrank as she was digested in minutes.

Terezi did not allow the soul of her meal to be lost, though, or to be consumed. SHe instead diverted it, absorbing it.

And a new egg appeared in her gestation guts, along with a couple of hundred others that had been gradually impregnated in her by the essence of today’s meals. And the prisoner would indeed get a new chance, and a new life.

Terezi smiled, beckoning the other prisoners.

One after another, with slow and sweet patience, Terezi swallowed them too, and devoured them. It felt almost a sacred thing, a redemptive thing, and she beamed to think that one day, they would be her children. Her belly swelled bigger with each one, eggs multiplying by the hundreds as her fertility influenced the developing eggs and making more.

Five prisoners, than just four. Three now.

Two.

And then, slowly digesting in the pit of her belly, there were none at all. But there were many more eggs, and Terezi’s breasts, her hips, swelled with even greater fecundity.

Jade wiggled, Nepeta squirmed, and Chahut failed to stifle a faint rumble. All the handmaidens did, too. Metal creaked, fabric stretched, and breasts expanded. Nepeta and Jade both felt up their own hips and backsides as they swelled with sudden fertile expansiveness, the armor of Chahut became FAR together and rather insubstantial for her swelling assets, and every single woman in the room grew even more curvaceous, a faint echo of Terezi’s own fertility. The handmaidens… well, they required a lot of them to repair their clothes afterwards.

Kirela squeaked as her skirt strained, and several buttons popped off her suit when her breasts swelled four sizes bigger, literally ballooning outwards! She blushed, beaming and wiggling in place.

Terezi lounged back, feeling quite satisfied, and closed her eyes.

Her eggs were growing faster, her babies were fed. Yet more justice had been served, making herself stronger in the process.

And one day, perhaps far in the future…

Her ancestor would meet the same fate.

Terezi picked up Karkat, leaning back and giving him a kiss. “We are making things happening~!”

#queued #commissions #my writing #fics #twitchy!homestuck #twitchy!terezi #not crossthicc

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psychoblue9 · 5 years ago

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More Tokusatsu AU craziness, here’s Violent Athena! This would be towards the climatic finale of the series...

Saori Kido, heir to the financial empire known as the Graude Foundation, was adopted by Mitsumasa Kido as an infant after the wounded Aries Mu and the dying Sagittarius Aiolos teleported to his mansion’s doorstep with her in tow. While Aiolos could not be saved, Mu told Mitsumasa that the baby was the reincarnation of Athena and needed to be protected at all costs. He also told Mitsumasa that the reason they teleported to his estate was that the baby’s mother told Mu that if something were to happen to her, the Kido family would where to go.

Meanwhile in Sanctuary’s headquarters in the outskirts of Athens, the newly crowned Pope Arles cursed his weakness and entered deep thought. The baby Athena was not like previous incarnations of their treasured goddess. Born to the Angel Bilquis and the Gold Saint Aries Mu after a tryst that formed following the two Pantheons joining forces to seal away the treacherous “Lord of Hell” Lucifer, this new baby had the potential to totally unravel whatever hold Sanctuary had over the remaining Pantheons. When Arles, back then known as the leader of the Gold Saints “Gemini Saga, attempted to tell Pope Shion, he discovered Shion using forbidden arts in an attempt to create artificial Spectres. The constant stream of blasphemy caused Saga to lose control of his better half, and in a rage Saga slew Shion and took his place in an attempt to “right the wrongs.”

As his rage abated, Saga realized in horror what he had done and quickly set out to discover what Shion had been up to. As it turned out, Shion was attempting to reverse engineer the “Specterism” plague that befell Sanctuary during the previous Holy War of the 18th Century. Saga had walked into the final testing stages that would turn a possessed human back into their former self. Shion had left enough of his notes for Saga to complete the cure, and quickly put the experiment to rest. Saga decided that he would honor his former Pope by finishing what he started and reclaim Sanctuary’s glory.

After allowing the child prodigy Hornet Milo to kill Bilquis, whom Arles poisoned with dark energy so that she appeared to have gone mad, he attempted to poison the baby Athena, as well. The goal was simply to present the possessed Athena to his former comrades and cure her in order to boost his cult of personality among the other Pantheons. Aiolos walked in by happenstance, and in the struggle he learned Arles’ true identity. Saga quickly overpowered his former comrade and ordered his death when Aiolos snatched Athena from her crib and brought her to Mu.

Finding Athena was easy enough for Arles, who could sense her Holy Cosmo all across the planet, but it was pointless to go after her now. The window had passed, and he needed to ensure that Sanctuary would not suspect him for foul play. As he gathered his allies and removed those who may one day rise against him, an even grander scheme formed in his mind. Perhaps Athena being born of an Angel and a Gold Saint was not a blasphemy, but a blessing in disguise. When she reached maturity and awakened to her true self, Athena would possess the most powerful vessel ever. It might even one day surpass the height of Athena’s divine flesh prior to the end of the Age of Myth.

If this vessel could be that powerful...perhaps it would be possible for it to become a vessel for another entity.

19 years later, Saori Kido awakened and her godly Cosmo was felt all across the world. It would signal a months long campaign for Sanctuary to reclaim the “ripened” Athena from the traitors who whisked her away. Mu, who had adopted the identity of billionaire weapons developer and head of Graude Foundation’s R&D Division “Mutsuki Zeto,” had prepared two teams to meet Arles’ assault: the noble “Zodiac Knights” led by Pegasus Seiya who fought to protect all innocent life from Sanctuary’s tyranny, and the unrelenting “Zodiac Horde” led by Unicorn Jabu whose sole purpose was to protect Saori and inflict harm upon anyone who put her at risk.

During the conflict, Arles discovered that the Knights’ Andromeda Shun was the vessel for Hades. Under the advice of his twin brother Kanon, who was now acting as his kagemusha for the Gemini Cloth, Arles waited for Pisces Aphrodite to repot the successful assassination of longtime Sanctuary target Pandora Heinstein, and sent him to Japan for his next mission. As Aphrodite headed to Japan, Kanon sent a message to Siren Sorrento under the “Sea Dragon” codename that the time had come to awakening their secret God Poseidon.

On the surface, it appeared that Saori’s protector and old childhood sweetheart Julian Solo and her trusted Saint Andromeda Shun were going to be pitted against one another with the hopes that one angry God killed the other. Shun had been forcibly awakened as Hades with a dart laced with Pandora’s blood, and Julian through the vase containing Poseidon’s seal soul being undone by Sorrento. Because neither possession was natural, the hold of them was not absolute, and the Zodiac Knights were able to restore their teammate by sealing Hades’ soul within the now-empty vase. Sorrento volunteered to ensure the vase would not fall into the wrong hands, but two days later Julian discovered his body with no vase in sight.

In reality, Sanctuary had planned this chain of events from the beginning. Kanon had acquired the Sea Dragon moniker from Sorrento’s late father, whom he had killed to cover his tracks that his “youthful romantic indiscretions” with the fiance of the Solo Shipping Conglamerate’s heir resulted in the birth of Poseidon’s next vessel. He was imprisoned by his brother when Shion got word of this, but now it was an avenue of Arles’ greatest triumph. Because he was fathered by a Gemini Saint, it meant that his possession would be a split dichotomy instead of a gradual transformation like Saori into Athena. This gave the Knights a chance to reason with Julian and work together to stop Hades.

Now Hades’ soul was sealed entirely within the vase, and Arles quickly went to work on the next phase of the plan as Aphrodite returned to Sanctuary with the vase in tow. Arles withdrew his troops from Japan and accepted Saori’s proposition for a final showdown. Three weeks later, Saori and the Zodiac Knights arrived at the Aries Temple, where they were immediately ambushed by 500 of Sanctuary’s best soldiers. In the conflict, Saori was wounded by an arrow, and Arles telepathically challenged the Zodiac Knights to conquer the 12 Houses if they wished to save her.

As the Knights marched up the temple, the Gold Saints still loyal to Athena hurried to the Aries Temple in an attempt to stop the venom that had entered his bloodstream. As the final temple was cleared, Libra Dohko had successfully nullified the arrow’s venom, but in doing so sealed the fate of himself, Scorpio Milo, and Taurus Aldebaran. The venom was only a decoy, a medicine that kept Saori’s soul pure from the true purpose of the arrow. The reality was that the arrow contained the entirety of Hades’ soul, warped by Arles’ Judeccan Sorcery to be more susceptible to consumption by Saori.

The dark wave of violent intent was felt all the way in the Pope’s Sanctum, where Aries Mu and his protege Knights were on the cusp of victory against the fearsome duo of the Gemini Twins. Realizing that he would likely never have a chance to admit to Saori that he was so much more to her than just her mentor, Mu used his Starlight Extinction to teleport the Knights as far down the Temple stairs as he could muster. As for himself, Mu opened a portal to the crawlspace between realities known as “the Void,” and let nothingness swallow himself and the Gemini Twins before they could stop the Knights.

Back at the foot of the Aries Temple, the Zodiac Horde finally arrived to provide reinforcements, but realized it might already be too late. Instead of Athena taming Hades’ soul with her purity as Saga had hoped, instead the two souls fused together into something new and twisted. Dohko, Milo, and Aldebaran had been reduced to bloody slush, and in place of the Nike Staff was the Sword of Kers. Once hailed as a Goddess of Righteous War, Saori Kido had instead turned into an entity of Ultimate Punishment, triggered by even the slightest scent of moral decay.

As the smell of humanity’s sin entered her nostrils, Saori Kido reached for her blade and prepared to begin her judgment of her charges. Athena had been reborn, and nothing would ever be the same again...

#Saint Seiya #Tokusatsu #Saori #Athena #Saori Kido #Hades #Possession #Dark Athena

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the-lady-bryan · 5 years ago

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Untitled HP Arthurian Legend AU idea

This is mostly so I have my idea compiled somewhere that isn’t Google Docs or Evernote. I may or may not write on this idea, but it’s a good idea so if I never get around to actually writing it, then at least I put it out there for people to enjoy in some form or another anyway.

Each reblog is a different part stage of the AU that would be told as "tales" of a sort. And because each one is really fucking long, each one will have a “read more”. If this doesn’t work for mobile users, i’m sorry. But hey, at least i tried!

Anyway, on with the thing!

So basically it's this...

Part 1 “The Fall of Camelot”

Camelot was real. Of course it was because modern witches and wizards know about the great Merlin, a revered historical figure. BUT no one really knows what happened during that time because when Camelot fell around 280 years after the death of King Arthur at Camlaan, all records and such were lost, and in the two centuries after his death the magical population was hunted to near extinction.

The battle of Camlaan had nothing to do with a fight between Mordred and Arthur and in fact father and son fought on the same side against invaders who had already conquered the surrounding kingdoms. Morgana wasn't evil she just didn't agree with Merlin and the crown but didn't go out of her way to cause trouble until her eldest son was killed years after surviving Camlaan.

Anyway, so what really went down is forgotten and all records were destroyed, resulting in a lot of gaps that were filled in with myth and legends and made up rumours.

Okay, so. In this version, Merlin taught Mordred magic after he was brought to Camelot by Arthur to be groomed as heir apparent until Guinevere had their children at which point he would become Lord Protector I the event Arthur died before his children had grown up. Mordred was totes cool with this because he doesn't want to rule and wants the freedom he has as the king's nephew rather than his son. So nobody but Arthur, Morgana, her husband Lord Peverell, Merlin, and eventually Mordred himself know the truth and it stays that way for many years.

So, Arthur has this prophecy hanging over his head about this whole once and future king thing. And Merlin is this mysterious wizard with powers that are far beyond any other living being. He's fucking revered by the druids and various mystic orders. And it turns out he is cursed with immortality and has been roaming the earth for a thousand years because he gave into temptation and used a forbidden piece of knowledge given to him by the gods. The only way he can escape this date is to pass on that knowledge to another who is worthy of having the power, but also one Merlin believes will not use it as he had. He of course, ends up choosing Mordred, believing in his inherent goodness and nobility.

He teaches Mordred the powerful Charm of Making, which can give the user his hearts desire for a price. Merlin finds he cannot speak what that price is, so instead cautions Mordred never to use this power unless there is absolutely no other option.

The knowledge now passed on to another, Merlin is made mortal again. He is assassinated before Camlaan.

Mordred and Arthur go to battle. Mordred and Arthur are both mortally wounded. Mordred tries to save his king's life but none of the healing magic he knows is working. So he does the unthinkable and uses the Charm of Making, trying to will Arthur to live. Instead it heals himself and not Arthur.

Arthur's body is taken by Mordred himself back to Camelot. They get a priestess in to do the final rites and are informed that the gods have another date in store for the king. His body is to be committed to Avalon where his soul will reside with the gods and await the day of his return. Guinevere is not happy about this because this isn't the way things are done. Mordred insists that the do as the gods command. This causes a split and Mordred decides fuck it, I'll make sure it happens and the knights loyal to him accompany him. The queen brands him a traitor and Arthur's cousin through his father's family seizes the throne in Mordred's absence, branding him a criminal and wanted for treason.

Mordred does not return to Camelot after sending Arthur's body to Avalon and he goes on many adventures, befriending all manner of creatures and beings, going by another name - “Antioch” and taking the name Peverell from his mother's husband who had raised him as his own blooded son. One of the beings he befriends and has adventures with is Gringott the Goblin, who was kicked out of his clan for swearing an oath of brotherhood to a human after their many (profitable) adventures. Gringott ended up starting a band of outcasts who had been banished from other goblin clans and they continued their adventures before eventually forming Clan Gringott, which over the following 1300 years or so became the biggest and most powerful of the goblin clans in all of Europe.

Anyway, so Mordred eventually settles down after meeting a young Baron and falling madly in love with him, and the Baron in love with Mordred. Problem, the Baron is already married to a daughter of another Lord. A magic hating muggle Lord. After she births a couple of children for the Baron, he releases her from the marriage so that she may find love for herself because he never did and married her out of duty. He is also really chill and is like "I don't want our children to not know their mother. In fact, stay and I'll happily pay for your upkeep and anything you desire because you are my best friend and I do care about you. Hell, fall in love and remarry and you can have the castle. Me and .ordered will happily live in a mud but in the back yard." And Mordred's like "if you want I can even get like, servants and stuff for you. And you can live like a queen." But the woman's super pissed about it, rightfully to be honest, and plots with her brother to kill Mordred because he has magic. When she finds out the Baron also has magic, she plots to kill him, too.

Hell's fury and women scorned and all that.

So she hires someone to kill Mordred, and it seemingly works! Mordred is killed in a tavern on his way back home from visiting his mother and younger brothers Cadmus and Ignotus.

When word reaches the Baron, he kills himself in his grief, not able to bear life without his love.

When Morgana, old and bitter about Mordred's reputation in the kingdom after Arthur's death, learns her eldest son has been killed, she uses all of her magic to curse the entire kingdom of Camelot and the king's and queens to follow, with her curse gaining power with time and each generation until eventually 280 years later Camelot finally falls. The curse is so strong it takes her life as the price for such magic, and in the process her bitterness and malice transforms the Ruby stone she uses as her focal point into a stone of pitch black. This becomes known in later centuries as the resurrection stone.

So, Mordred used the charm of making and is actually immortal, having made the same mistake as Merlin and given into the temptation to use the knowledge without knowing what price he would ultimately pay. He is pulled into Avalon, regressed to the physical age of a newborn baby but still has all of his memories and mind intact. Normally if one with there curse is killed, they may take time to heal but they will return to life a little worse for wear. This did not happen to Mordred because of a protection spell cast on him by Gringott during their adventures. The goblin magic interacted badly with the curse and oops! Baby Mordred!

Mordred is found in Avalon by his father Arthur, who not knowing what to do takes him to the Lady of the Lake. The lady in turn calls up a council of the gods, to which the spirit of Merlin is summoned. Merlin is tasked with "fixing this monumental fuck up because ultimately it's your fault for teaching the boy the charm before he was ready to understand the power and the consequences of it".

So Merlin comes up with a plan to send Mordred back, but the cost of doing so is forcing Arthur's destiny onto him. Arthur was destined to return at Albion's greatest need and it's darkest hour, but Mordred cannot remain in Albion. And Arthur MUST return because you do NOT fuck with prophecy more than necessary.

And so ends part 1, “The Fall of Camelot”.

#harry potter au #arthurian legend au #hp au #fanfic idea #idea #writing

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