#The defiled statue

[nekosoda]

Okay we have to be getting Mondstat content.

SPOILERS UNDER CUT!!!!

References to Venti's first and last (joke intended) story quest.

Seperation,growth and becoming another (Just like how Nahida was once a branch of Irminsul and now her own tree,just like how Venti was once a branch of time-a part of the thousand winds

Thing from one of my previous theorys

hmm.

[daemon-in-my-head]

Yk, when I had the idea to buy datv yday I forgot that my Internet is so fucking horrible it's gonna take 19h to download. So, after using my brothers arm as a canvas to marvel at my liquid inks and feeling a surge of inspiration mixed with incredible boredom:

I once again hijacked several marble statues just to slap a tyrant onto that. He gets to be Justicia as a treat. Ofc the scales are preemptively imbalanced cuz it's not like that fuck would actually judge fairly.

Consider this a treat or smth for Gortoween, idk I was just hoping to finish anything atp lol

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

assuming pythia's curse is no longer in effect and the blinovitch limitation effect is not that much of an issue (or you know might be kinda hot like sensation play idk), do you think two regenerations of the same timelord could conceive a child together?

[thefouraboveall]

" I suppose I do have much in common with the mighty dragons of the sky. Or-- they have much in common with me. Auspicious that-- to resemble one so perfect, so beautiful."

[gctchell]

None of her thoughts are in the bible, though they partially involve it.

[constantlyoverthinking]

Ah, the desire to completely shatter my favourite characters, then rebuilt them into the most twisted version of themselves, just to observe the consequence of the monster I've created. Super normal, amiright

[lapisdex]

@narvvhal I don't know, I don't feel through statues so I can't relate!

Smack.

[foulchilde]

❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ //from vedrfolnir because abyss wormies go brrr

Chills erupt gooseflesh along the backs of his arms, the broad line of his shoulders stiffening as tension unspools from the tightly condensed ball behind his ribcage, with the intent to seize every fibre of his being. This was an unusual response from his body, given the circumstances under which he came to know this voice. A guide in the abstruse terrain of the Abyss, leading him to refuge away from the monsters that were aimlessly out for blood. Comforting in the all-consuming darkness that enveloped him like a cold embrace, ready to suffocate him, if not for that voice. All until the mantle was handed over to his master, Skirk. At least, that is how it felt like -- what with the way it quieted down the second he was in her care. However, the voice was never truly gone; it haunted him in the recesses of his mind when the Abyss was trying to lure him back, claim him since it failed to do so when he was younger. Ajax had the rationale to recognise that it wasn't actually that person speaking to him; understanding the patterns of the Abyss meant understanding that its capabilities extended to emulating things from the real world to ambush its prey. Enough time had passed for the young Harbinger to rationalise his experience in the Abyss, how that impacted his development once he returned to his home, and what the connections made during his time there truly meant. And he wouldn't put the source of this voice in the friendly bracket. "I remember you," he murmurs, all too aware that he would be heard. Ocean blues scan the area, for anything or anyone that the voice could belong to. "Your name, however, I don't think I have ever known. Do you even have a name?"

[muzothecat]

If you received this you are a great mutual! ✨ Send this to 10 of your mutuals to spread love 💝

Thank you anonymous mutual, hope you enjoyed the touhou project rebrand (actually a return to origins)

[nekosoda]

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

In the quest we constantly brin up Mondstat,Dvalin/Stormterror,Ancient times,Working together/Rhythm,Time...

AND THEN THERES THIS LINE

"No one wishes to have their soul weighed down by gravity."

EXCUSE ME

THE PLACE IS UPSIDE DOWN MESSED UP,THE PLACE WE TRAVELLED TO DURING "Caribert" WAS UPSIDE DOWN,THE DEFILED STATUE OF BARBATOS IS UPSIDE DOWN,THE PRIMORDIAL SEA/WATER GOES UP,AS IF THE PLACE IS ALSO UPSIDE DOWN AND ITS DRIPPING FROM THE CEILING

WHATS GOING ONNNNN

[ditzybat]

damian: i'm going to kill your brother.

jon: kon? what did he do this time?

damian: drake and your brother have been consorting behind father's back and have been defiling various parts of the manor, while drake is of lesser status he still carries the wayne name and is sullying it with his choice in companionship.

jon: ya know you can just say you care about your older brother and want to give his boyfriend the shovel talk, right?

damian, flushed: that is not what i said, i simply need to determine his intentions lest he finds himself on the lesser on of my blade!

jon: mhm, whatever the voices tell you dami

[mellowwillowy]

(gasps) he's a fae?? Part 1 MDNI

Yan! Butler who is skilled in practically everything, allowing him to serve you wherever and whenever for you.

Yan! Butler who is never even once considered to be intimidating in your eyes yet other people would always have a say about it. Why can't you notice the way he glares at all your suitors disapprovingly?

Yan! Butler who always has the last words of critiques toward your suitor, causing you to scrap them away in pursuit of a better suitor for your country's well-being.

Yan! Butler who is secretly working on his influence and status as he steals what is rightfully your scrapped suitors. Bits by bits, he has grown into a fine gentleman within the years he has served you.

Yan! Butler who has spent his entire life building everything from the day you took him into the shelter of your wings, allowing him to understand how it feels like to be home. Allowing him to unleash the avarice side of a human.

Yan! Butler who is never content with just standing next to you as a servant, no. He wants to stand on an equal ground as you do as your lover. He has to. He has spent his whole life keeping you safe from impurities, allowing you to bloom beautifully. Only he is allowed to defile you should the call come. Only he is allowed to have your lip against his and frankly speaking, his cock.

Yan! Butler who will sometimes walk out of the picture, hiding himself somewhere secluded, teeth clutching on a handkerchief you embroidered for him as he pumped his cock vigorously.

The perfume you were wearing was an anonymous present from a noble, someone you assumed to be one of the many suitors. You were unaware that the noble was the butler who had served you since you were children, the same boy you once had your eyes shaped in a heart.

The idea of you wearing a scent he crafted himself may not be as romantic as what others had in store but he knew that better than anyone. He was an orphan, true. But were you aware that the orphan was never a human?

Back in the country he once lived in, there's a courting habit that the faes pride themselves in doing so. And that was to give their beloved a perfume that was personally handcrafted in memory of the most cherished memory they had in mind.

And the scent you were wearing was the memory of you saving him, the smell of the rain that drenched him mixing with the flowers' smell from your basket, and the smell of love blooming from first sight.

His hip jerked upward as he relished in the memories. You might not realize it but seeing you wearing it so proudly rendered him helpless to the point he crumbled as nothing but an ejaculating mess. The smile that was so gentle and sweet as you coaxed him into the carriage... and the hands that were so warm when compared to his pale, cold ones.

Oh, how he would kill just to have you feel him all over while wearing his scent.

Soon he would be able to consummate with you as a spouse. Just one more year and he would present himself as a suitor who would outmatch the whole list, free of blemishes, critiques, and flaws.

Then just perhaps, the fae would be able to restore his kingdom and propose an agreement of bridging two countries through marriage.

[your-local-granny]

So excited to finally share my full piece for the @curtaincallzine!!! I had sosososo much fun making this piece!!! the drama of 3-5 and the drama of Mozart operas, together at last <3

(details/ analysis under the cut!)

This was inspired by the final scene of the 2001 zurich production of don giovanni! the thought was Dahlia (Don Giovanni) being cast into hell by the returned ghost of Mia (the Commendatore)-- it works too well!! Also Don Giovanni/ Dahlia as the seducer is just perfect!

I included the thinker statue because it represents the statue of the Commendatore/ Mia that speaks to Don Giovanni/ Dahlia asking them to repent and then casting them into hell! Mia is on the dinner table because of the dinner table Don Giovanni sets when he defiles the statue which actually works pretty well with the gravy/ dinner that the aa cast had the night of the murder! And the rope bridge was meant to parallel the ladder that Don Giovanni casts himself off of in the Zurich 2001 production

Also!! Not only is evidence from the case falling into the river-- I included paper with the final words of the show written on it!! why??? because I'm insane!!

I never quite nailed down 1-to-1 parallels for the rest of the cast but I always saw Iris as Leporello (servant who got in over their head) and Phoenix and Edgeworth as Donna Anna and Don Ottavio (seeking vengeance for the murder/ boyfriend of the person seeking vengeance). I think Pearls and Godot could work as Zerlina and Donna Elvira but it's more about being tricked than being seduced obv. So i guess that makes Maya..... Masetto? There is also a world in which Maya and Franziska are Zerlina and Masetto if only to make "batti batti" absolutely hysterical djhshdjh. Misty Fey could also work as the Commedatore but I feel like this game as a whole is more about Mia? That's just cause i like her more tho tbh

[thefouraboveall]

" The manse is flawed." Kharneth had began, shortly after his brothers arrived to the chamber that would serve as a conventional when the great edifice was done. Nurgle looked concerned, willing to hear out his sibling's criticisms of their joint venture. Slaanesh seemed offended that anything he deigned to help with could be any such thing.

" Whatever do you mean?" Nurgle asked, before Slaanesh could begin a row. Khorne pointed a thick, taloned finger as where the beguiled servants of Slaanesh toiled away. He pointed at the foundations of the building.

" It is unmoving." The Blood God answered. " A sitting target. We should not be so affixed to this realm of mortals. We must move, we must wander."

The Fly Lord and Prince looked at one another in consideration, their sharp looks dulling. It was the Lord of Excess who spoke at last, a brow quirked.

"What would you have us do? The manse is too large for my serfs to carry."

"My vines could drag it along." Nurgle offered, but Khorne only grunted.

" Too slow." Was his simple criticism. He rubbed the horns on his chin one. Twice. Then, looked up at his siblings, eyes glowing with a rare gleam of inspiration. His answer was simple, brutal, effective: just like the Blood God himself.

" We find a great creature. And we lash the fortress to it's back with chains, with vines."

The other powers looked intrigued. Slaanesh in particular took the idea, his small grin growing wide and sharp. " We build the fortress into the very spine of the beast, into it's flesh. It's nerves will be our reins, to yank as we see fit." The Prince tittered to himself, delighted at his own cruelty.

" But where to find such a beast?" Nurgle questioned. At this, Khorne grunted once again.

" I do not know."

"Oh, but won't the hunt itself be fun? Won't the chase, won't breaking it to our designs be grand?"

Even Khorne gave an appreciate rumble at that; at the prospect of a great bestial hunt.

" It will be glorious indeed, Princeling. Glorious indeed."

[ozzgin]

Based on The Lighthouse (2019) movie, because I feel like it would make a nice monster romance. Isolation, vivid dreams of sea creatures, and a tentacle beast hiding in the top room? Come on.

Content: gender neutral reader, same gendered captain (homoerotic tension), monster romance (merfolk and tentacles), dubious consent, absurdism, horror, NSFW

“Y’know, the others…they don’t make it to the six month mark.”

Your captain continues to eat, unbothered by the ominous statement they just made. You fiddle with your cutlery, slowly digesting your present circumstances.

You’ve been shipped to this island as the lighthouse keeper. It’s you, the captain, and the tall, crashing waves. A boat will pick you up and bring you back to land in a few months, if everything goes well.

If everything goes well.

You drag your feet upstairs, to the small, cramped room you share with your higher up. Your hands search underneath the pillow, until they eventually pull out a wooden statue. It’s a monstrous human donning a chiseled fish tail instead of legs; the merfolk. You’d found the trinket on the day you moved in, stuffed in your mattress.

When did your vivid dreams start? Probably around the same time as your discovery. You opened your eyes to a pale, deformed creature thrusting into you. You could hear the wet, sloppy sound of its claspers ruining your hole, the waves breaking against the rocky shore, and its breathy giggle as it observed you. You tried to slap it off you, but your arms were mush, flailing without aim. Your gaze lowered to its long, scaly tail, spasming and curving to the rhythm of your defile.

One morning, you woke up outside, sprawled on the sand with your tongue dried up and your skin scratched all over. Your fingers relaxed, revealing a clump of translucent scales.

“You must’ve sleepwalked”, the captain declared at the time, stroking your hair with one hand and holding their smoking pipe in another. They reminded you of your parent, yet the nostalgic feeling quickly vanished once their bony fingers slid up your thigh.

You sat in their lap, quietly accepting the flaccid explanation. Then, you wondered whether to bring up another dilemma: at night, you can hear them sneaking away, up into the locked room you are forbidden from seeing.

“No one but me has a key to it”, the captain huffed. “It’s where we keep the light. It’s the heart of the lighthouse.”

You followed them once, much too curious to remain in your chamber, silently pacing yourself to their heavy, limp step. Through the cracks of the attic door, you could see enormous tentacles swirling around, engulfing the burning lamp. You ran back to your room, hiding under the blankets and praying for an ounce of clarity. In your slumber, you met the kraken once more. It throbbed and slithered, calling out to you alluringly.

“I dreamt of a beast with many tendrils”, you finally confessed, squirming within the firm hold of the sailor.

“It does have a thing for pretty ones like ya!” the captain joked, releasing a loud, strident laugh.

You place down the statue and flip through the pages of your work journal. Only a few more months to go. Then you’ll be away from the bizarre visions, and the strange yearnings, and the isolation. You’ve touched yourself one too many times to the uncanny silence.

“Dumbass!”

The captain sways in, visibly drunk. They notice your thick, little binding of pages and chuckle.

“The boat was s’pposed to arrive yesterday. You missed it. Matter of fact, it never showed up.”

No. They’re lying again. They always feed you nonsense and fake promises!

Your ears pick up a faint sound coming from outside, millions of suction cups rapping at the old tile of the lighthouse, trampling down to your window.

You’re not stranded here. It can’t be.

[More Monsters]