#i see them as a sort of cult in this au

[chipistotallysane]

the forever knights have "facts" about him.

[whenuwishuponastar]

I just crave protection for my ball of perfection <3

[fushitoru]

helloooo i literally ADOREEE your writing and have read ALL of your jjk works istg!!! i was wondering if you had any recs for any series? ive been in a slump lately and i rlly wanna read some new fics but cant find any :((

oh i gotchu. all of these are NSFW (unless otherwise indicated), well written, and untragic ending (uhhh unless i remember wrong, some of these i read a long time ago) because i'm picky and a pussy.

completed

gojo satoru

convergence theory (ao3)

canon au, marriage of convenience au. tension is well written, and gojo is a little shit lke he would be in canon. beautiful and yummy characterization of him as the complex character he is.

shame on me by @starmapz

canon au. i love how gojo is written, and i love trish's writing style, lol. reader has a curse inside her, like sukuna is inside yuji, and gojo comes to take her to jjt. it's very well written the yearning >

games and matches by @lostfracturess

modern au, dad's best friend au. AHHH HE'S SOSOSO FINE IN THIS like i need him so bad. i just love reader's inner conflict and also the drama. i need dilf gojo <3

pandora's box by @c0pkiller

priest au. it's just so interesting to see them battle their impulses and what their religion has told them to do. the pining is chef's kiss, and satoru is realllyyy sweet in this one. i didn't know what to expect when i was reading it but wow it was very, very well written.

moonlight (ao3)

canon au, mating bond au. sort of omega verse but not really. the sexual tension is INSANE and it's genuinely so well written. the angst is delicious and the comfort that follows is even more delicious.

family formation by @dellalyra

found family au in canon universe. i love this one, super fluffy and well written. it's super domestic, and very comforting. i love gojo (as a father and daddy :p)

ukiyo (ao3)

secret marriage au in canon. super flufy as well baha gojo is adorbs :3

baby steps by @lemonlover1110

pregnancy au, and if i remember correctly canon au. the tea in this is crazyyy actually, and i felt the angst as gojo and reader grappled with the pregnancy. i loved the ending, it felt so rewarding <3

nanami kento

inflitration by @pseudowho

canon au, fake marriage au. i loved the pining in this. It had a lot of my favorite tropes, including forced proximity, the classic making out to avoid getting caught, and fake marriage (to overthrow a cult). also haitch writes this man beautifully so ik it was going to a banger

strangers in love by @ayyy-pee

exes to lover au, and the angst hurts really good. they make up very well by the end and i love this series a lottt. lexi writes conflicts out so beautifully, and im so in love. the end had me on my toes but i was so glad nanami pulled thru <3

your best friend's brother by @delirious-donna

modern au, best friend's brother au. the humor is done amazingly well, and their writing style is amazing. The sexual tension is actually INSANE there were times I was screaming at them to fuck because of the chemistry they had :3

toji fushiguro

unscripted (ao3) by @ryowriten / @kasukuna

modern au, toji's a erotic va in this. ITS SO FUNNy and megumi is super super silly. reader is so me coded (she's a loser basically) and toji is super hot. the sexual tension is amazing and it feels like reading a rom com.

sukuna ryomen

hesitance by @yenayaps

modern au, gym employees au SO FLUFFFYYY READER IS ME. i love sukuna like this, where he's so down bad. the ending is sooo sweeet it'll make you cry

defiance by @yenayaps

heian era au. GRAAHHHHHH THIS ONE WAS SO SWEET IT'S SO CUTE LIKE THE ENDING MADE ME CRY BC IT WAS SO SWEET. everyone needs to read this one, i love heian era aus like this

ongoing (BUT i have very strong faith that they are going to be finished because the authors are active with frequent updates. otherwise i'll kms live on camera)

what you know by @starmapz

sukuna x reader college AU. SUPER self indulgent, sukuna is such a cutie. i would even say found family au because sukuna takes care of his brothers and AHHH IT'S ADORABLEEE <3 it's also really steamy bc sukuna is SO HOT so :333

kickoff by @celestie0

gojo x reader, college AU. oh my god i love this series gojo is so lore accurate if he was a college student in 2024. he's just ughhhh so well written you will have such a crush on him. also reader is a baddie too what can i say

in holy matrimony by @celestie0

gojo x reader, modern au, fake marriage au. the banter in this is BEAUTIFUL it's so fucking funny. it's sort of like a rom com, and the angst is just written so beautifully. reader is just a girl :(

motherhood and matrimony by @alygator77

gojo x reader, fake marriage au ceo au. AHH THIS FIC IS MY GUILTY PLEASURE. please im always on my toes with this one, reader's a single mom and her son's interaction w gojo are sooo cute. gojo best dad :(

controller by @yenayaps

sukuna x reader, ceo au. i haven't gotten the chance to fully read this one but WOW seeing the tags + knowing how sienna writes this is gonna be FIRE

angels in the snow (ao3)

nanami x reader, strangers to lovers. don't be afraid to pick this one up just because it's ongoing, you'll feel very satisfied because it feels like a collection (and has 52 chapters already) than an incomplete series. nanami and reader meet at an airport and have to drive home together bc their flight gets canceled. the progression of their relationship is so sweet, and he's suchhh a green flag. very comfy <3

[chococolte]

I think a sagau! touch starved/needy childe, scara and zhongli feels very attractive, to have two powerful harbingers on their knees just for a shred of attention from their god makes me wanna pamper them

but also like zhongli?? That man is so touch-starved like poor dude has been worshipping for hundreds of years without a reward for his good work probably drives him insane. I cannot imagine how he hold it together and doesn’t ascend on the spot when he breathes the same air as his god because I genuinely think he’s THAT needy

also your writing really brought me a lot of comfort!! Thank you for running the blog and doing what you do💜💜

word count. 3.8k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. im so happy you like my writing!! im sorry i took forever to write this, but i still hope you like it !!!!

childe

In the unfathomable dark of the abyss, you were the only thing Childe had to keep himself sane.

Without you, he would've lost himself; without you, he is nothing. He only survived because of your guidance. In his eyes, his ever consuming need of you is only right— he has no need of anything else, and sees no purpose to think otherwise. You've only ever proven how worthy you are of worship.

When light seeps through tree boughs, he sees you. He sees you in the way the leaves leave a shadow. He feels you in the cast of the wind's breath. Every breath he takes is inlaid with your name. The mere thought of the opposite makes him sick.

He's pathetic, but his pitiful appearance is only for your eyes.

Just breathing in your presence is enough for him to feel weak and fluttery, but your eyes on him leave him delirious; the sort of dizzy where he can’t bring himself to move at all. All you have to do is glance at him for his knees to tremble like they're about to buckle underneath his weight.

Somehow, he keeps himself standing each time. He should be ashamed, he knows, embarrassed— but drool pools quickly in his mouth as your eyes linger, and any sort of dignity is discarded in the light of your gaze.

As a Harbinger, he should have more pride than he does, but Childe's only arrogance is his belief that he's special to you. That belief was the only thing he had to ground himself in the abyss, and he clings to it as if to let go would mean death. In his mind, it would be no different.

You were the only thing he had, even if he only knew you in the form of whispers and imperceptible kisses of wind. He didn’t need to touch you, no matter how tortuous of an existence it may be, as long as he could feel you.

That was enough. He thought it would be enough.

Seeing you is an entirely different matter however, and quickly, he finds himself wondering what your skin would feel like under his calloused fingertips.

He wants you to touch him. It's a selfish want, but one he carries with him all the same.

He wants you to play with his hair and hold him close as if he's something precious. He wants you to run your fingers along his spine and see him as he reveals every dark, nasty part of himself. He wants you to look and still find something to love.

Childe doesn't speak a word of his desires. He sits with them in the dark and tries to will them away. He tries to withstand their passage, but only ends up choking on each thought.

He tries to hold himself at night, imagining his arms are yours, but it only makes the ache worse.

He imagines loving you, and you loving him.

When you summon him to your chambers, Childe has to hold every nerve in his body to keep himself from running to you. It’s with a clearly restrained gait that he reaches you, just barely, his knees still wobbly and the floor a shifting kaleidoscope of colors.

It doesn’t bother him. Childe feels weightless, alight with fervor, and it’s a struggle to stop himself from rushing forward just to breathe a little closer to you. He drops to his knees, bowing his head until his forehead sits against your marble flooring.

Touch me, he thinks.

He somehow manages to choke a greeting out of his throat, unable to stop the small shudder that runs through him when he feels your gaze settle on him.

It feels right, being beneath you. It feels right, the slight tension in his body as he waits for you to speak.

Childe doesn’t say anything else. You’re the only one he truly respects, the only one he’s ever felt so fervently for— in your name, he would burn the world and scorch the earth. For you, he’d stain his hands so terribly the waters turn red. He holds no desire to clean his hands with anything other than your forgiveness— and so he doesn't dare to speak out of turn, unable to bear the thought of you being upset with him.

"Come here," he hears you say, your voice gentle and cooing. Childe doesn't hesitate, taking your words as a command, crawling towards you like some sort of dog.

Despite how eager he is to be near you, his hands rest dumbly at his sides. His fingers twitch, aching to touch you for just a moment, but he sits still, trying to be good. Without your permission, all he can do is sit, no better than a well-trained hound.

Childe looks up at you with a dumb, dopey smile on his face. He knows he must look like a fool, dazed just by sitting so close to you— he can already feel heat spreading across his freckled cheeks, and he knows it must be obvious— but he can't find it in himself to care.

It’s you.

You're so close he could touch you if he dared. Your warmth is only a few inches away from him, and he inhales, trying to breathe you in. For a brief moment, he allows himself the blessing to imagine what it would be like to touch you.

He imagines running his fingers against your skin. He imagines brushing against your hand. He imagines his palms gliding across the length of your robe, pretending the silk is your flesh. The thoughts strike him dumb, and he lets out a small whine before he can reel himself back in.

It's a breathless noise, but one he's sure you heard.

Your hand reaches forward to cup his cheek, and he nuzzles into your palm, leaning into your warmth as if trying to drink you in.

"So cute," you say, and every dark, needy part of him lights up all at once.

Childe makes another sound, a soft whimper drawn from the back of his throat. His russet lashes flutter shut, and any sense of propriety is promptly thrown to the side.

Touch me.

Another sharp shudder runs through him when you rub your thumb over his cheek. He almost falls limp against your hand, his breath locked in his throat, but he manages to steady himself in time.

His hands find your ornate robes within a second, and then he's clutching onto them until his knuckles are white. Childe can feel himself digging little crescents into his palms, but your touch means he's unable to focus on anything else, and the thought of lessening his grip makes him afraid you'll pull away.

Childe bites his lips, trying to stifle another noise. He never wants this to end. You could spit in his face, and he would thank you for it.

Just as he jerks forward, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, overwhelmed by how good your touch feels— you're letting go, and pure, unbridled fear rushes over him.

"N-No!" Childe begs hoarsely, unable to realize that he's acting out of what he's allowed. "No, no, d-don't stop, please! Please, please…" he pleads weakly, fingers digging into your robes again, tighter this time.

Unshed tears wet his eyes. If it means having your attention on him, he would do anything. Nothing is too far beneath him. He’s already done unspeakable things in your name, hoping to garner your favor; if it means having your touch for one second longer, then there’s no low he wouldn’t fall too— no covenant he wouldn’t break, divine or mortal. 

As long as it means being by your side at the end of it, any agony would be worth it. No shame is too much for him to bear. 

"Oh, puppy," you murmur softly. One of your hands cups his cheek, while the other gently tugs at his hair. "How could I say no to you?"

The fear coalescing around his heart dissipates, and the fingers that were clutching onto you lessen their grip slightly.

"Mhm," Childe hums at too high of a pitch, but he's much too drunk on you to think about anything else, much less whether he's ruining your perception of him. He hides his face in your hand.

Your puppy, he wants to add, but his mind is too frazzled to get the words out.

Your fingers in his hair tighten, and Childe can't help the little bit of drool that falls from his lips.

scaramouche

He shouldn't be ecstatic with just this much.

All you’d done was look at him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and it was enough for him to feel every nerve bursting like stars all over, pin pricks dancing under his skin. It was enough for every ugly, horrible little part of himself to reveal themselves like he'd done nothing to hide them.

The sudden surge of emotion, an incessant and desperate need to please you— to give you no reason to give him away— breaches the surface far too quickly. His every move is then dictated by how it might affect you, whether it'll give him your favor or ire; and an ever increasing chittering spawns in the back of his mind, crying for you to touch him.

All you'd done was look at him.

Scaramouche tries to ignore it at first. He, very pointedly, does his best not to think of how his skin burns when a thought of you touching him enters his mind unbidden, nor how it simultaneously destroys whatever preconceived notions he had of himself.

He knows titles are meaningless in front of you, but that doesn't quite quell the petulance he feels when he crumbles each time you look at him. You don't have to touch him for every wall to burst like they were nothing. You don't even have to be near him. Your eyes meet his for a moment, and it's like everything he is shatters.

It makes him feel disgustingly weak and as insignificant as the day he was born.

Scaramouche is one out of many; one interaction you may have out of hundreds. He knows how many clamber for your affection, and how many more would ruin themselves for it.

You hold his gaze for a meaningless amount of time, and he knows it means nothing to you. His body still reacts like it does. He knows once you've turned, you'll have already found something else to capture your attention. His pulse still churns as if you’d just held his face in your hands.

It's nothing to you. It should mean nothing to him.

He hates the fact it bothers him.

He shouldn't care. It's not the same as you abandoning him. That you look at him at all should mean something. But it doesn't change the way fear bundles inside of him when you look away, nor does it change the disgust that rises at the very fact he feels that way at all.

He shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t bother him. But it does. It does.

It eats away at him like a festering wound. It hurts like nothing before it. He wonders if you’ll grace him with a look, and when you do, that’s the only thing that matters. When you turn away, he wonders how he ever got to this point. When you don’t, it’s like his breath’s been wrung from his lungs, and he wonders again, at what point did he let himself fall so far. 

It’s a point of irritability for him, and he ignores it like acknowledging it would be the death of his ego. Knowing that it would only serves to make him suffer more.

Whether you smiled or twitched your brow shouldn't feel the same as being reborn or having life torn from him. 

You haven't left him yet. He constantly feels like you're about too.

Scaramouche has to sit and watch when you interact with others. It feels like torture. You smile, and for some reason, it feels like fire washing over him. You laugh, and somehow, he hears it as vividly as he would if he was next to you; only it hurts because he's not the one you're sharing it with.

He could at least pretend he wasn't so pathetic before. He could hold himself up with some pride, even dignity— mask his emotions well enough they couldn't be used against him. Now, sitting in front of you like this, he can't even have that much.

It's piety, worship, love, or something in between or all of them at once. He's weak all over because of it, and it makes him furious at the same time it makes him euphoric.

He wishes he was stronger. Tempered by the abyss, and he still can't resist falling into you.

Your hand runs across the nape of his neck, and he shivers, skin burning where your fingers brush. A soft, shuddery breath escapes him, and his fingers curl where they're latched onto your robes.

If it was anyone else, maybe he would have mauled them for seeing him in such a state. People are perfidious; quick to betray, and even quicker to exploit whatever they've gleaned. Faster still to take away anything that makes him happy.

It's not just anyone, though. It's you. And despite how terribly he fears and how deeply he wishes to bury his emotions, his want of you runs deeper. If it means holding your attention, then you can have anything. If it means feeling your touch, then he'd let you use whatever you wanted against him.

If it meant having the assurance of your presence, then he'd kneel and discard his every title and name. He'd become nothing, if he knew he'd still have you.

“Good boy,” you whisper, and Scaramouche instinctively moves closer, rubbing his knees raw against marble, trying to breathe in your warmth.

He despises how fast he weakens at your beckoning; how he can't even will himself to resist, or fathom the thought of it— malleable to your every whim, and unable to be truly angered by it. He only shifts to be nearer to you, dreaming of your touch, hoping to share some of your eternity.

A whimper rises from his throat, trying to kill his desperation.

"Don't leave me," he says, the words wrenched from his throat. "Don't leave me."

Don’t betray me, he wants to say instead. Don’t abandon me.

It's a disgusting display of weakness. He wishes he could kill his voice so he wouldn't speak at all, but even without a heart, his emotions feel like they might choke him.

The things you do to him are terrible. Pleas for you to only look at him sit and die on his tongue. He reels himself back in before he can make a fool out of himself even further, but he knows you only have to look at him for a little bit longer for any sense of resistance to die alongside his pride. 

"I won't," you say softly, holding his cheek against your palm. "I'm here."

Scaramouche leans into your touch, hiding his face against your hand. He manages to keep himself from making an improper sound through sheer will, though he has to clench his jaw and close his eyes. 

Even just knowing he has all of your attention makes him feel dazed, and as you rub your thumb over his cheek, he can’t even muster any anger at being reduced to such a state. He hums, somehow leaning even further into your touch. 

“I’m here,” you say again, and Scaramouche whimpers into your palm.

zhongli

Zhongli dreams of you every night.

He knows he shouldn’t. It’s not proper of him, nor is it right for him to sully your image with his thoughts. Still, though, the thoughts come unbidden and leave him a wreck in their wake. 

What troubles him is what he knows to be the cause of them.

Zhongli has always been eternally grateful. He's sat with the love of you until it permeated every thought. He's lived beside the worship of you until it coated his every word and nerve. 

Being able to serve you past fantasies in his imagination brings him purpose, and that should be enough. And for a time, it was. 

He could see you and feel fulfilled. He could breathe your air and feel like the thousands of years spent waiting for you had been worth it. Even following you around like some sort of dog was more gratifying than splitting the earth apart. This, he thought, is enough.

This sense of greed, then, shouldn't exist.

Zhongli pretends it's not his own, but the truth is that every thought is painfully his. 

He imagines you running your fingers through his hair. He imagines touching your skin. He imagines you whispering praises against the pale column of his throat, and he imagines being yours in such a way that he knew he was special to you. He imagines you breathing his name and it feeling like rebirth. He imagines your touch. He imagines being able to worship you selfishly, entirely, in a way that no one but him could claim the honor of.

In a way, he thinks he deserves it. To be tortured with visions of things he knows he doesn't deserve and thoughts he knows you wouldn't approve of. 

Zhongli would think of you often before, when all he had of you were the prayers on his lips and promises of piety. It was difficult to imagine you as something physical, but still, his heart stirred. His most meaningful company was the thought of you beside him.

What he thinks of now is different.

He wouldn't have dared to imagine touching your skin. He wouldn't have let the thought escape the darkest of his subconscious. He wouldn't have dared to let himself the simple fantasy of you speaking his name like he's something precious to you. All he wanted, then, was to share the same plane of existence as you. A selfish want, but it was pure.

What pervades his mind now is some sort of sacrilege. He should know better, but he still sullies you every time he closes his eyes, unable to fight and equally unwilling too. 

His greatest arrogance. Even with thousands of mortal lifetimes lived, he still can't rid himself of it— even with his own self-hatred, his thoughts continue to defy him. 

Even when he knows he's failing you, he falls deeper. 

It's worse when you interact with others. Zhongli hugs your shadow and trails after you always, eager to please but always hiding behind a mask of propriety and decorum. He likes to pretend to have a semblance of control in your presence, though he knows that if you’d only ask, he would rid himself of it entirely and be thankful for it.

You're perfect, which is why you're kind even to those that don't deserve a modicum of your attention. You smile, and each time it's not directed at him, he tries to choke the indignance out of him. It’s selfish of him to expect that he be the only one to receive your affection, despite how his mind whispers it’s because he hasn’t done enough to prove himself to you. 

Why else, it supplies, would you waste your breath on those undeserving of it? 

He reminds himself of his place. It assuages him for only a moment.

Zhongli dreams of your breath. He dreams of you cracking him open and bearing witness to every depravity and every virtue and still whispering your love to him. He dreams of looking at you and knowing that he means something to you. He dreams and he wants so terribly, and he knows none of it is his to imagine.

He reminds himself of his place, repeating the words over and over in his mind. He whispers them to himself at night in hopes that maybe, it'll finally stick this time. 

Be pleased with this much.

He's meant to be. He tells himself that, maybe, if he perseveres well enough, he'll be rewarded. 

Maybe you'd let him touch you?

He wouldn't ask for much. Maybe you would be kind enough to let him hold your fingers in his. He wouldn't do so for long. Maybe, if he was good, you'd let him kiss your fingertips with the reverence you deserve. 

It’s an impossibility, he knows, but it's his sole comfort. If he withstands just for a while more, you'll be proud instead of disappointed that he's fallen so low. 

Then you ask for him to kneel, alone in your chambers, and he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Zhongli does as you say immediately. He falls to his knees so quickly that his mind doesn't have the chance to catch up. Vaguely, he understands that maybe he should be ashamed with how fast his body responds. He decides he doesn't care. All he knows is that you're looking at him, and that it feels sweet and good, and that he doesn't want you to stop. 

His breath is lodged in his throat. His heart sounds like a roar in his ears. Nothing exists but you and your words. All you have to do is whisper a word that could vaguely be understood as a command and he would be at your feet, ready to be used. 

He wants you to touch him. 

You smile, and his nerves feel alight with fervor. Zhongli’s hands stay clenched on his knees, trembling with the strength needed to resist touching you. 

You haven't given him permission, so he keeps himself still. 

You cradle his face in your hands. He can feel the warmth of your palms caressing his cheeks, and he wonders— how can there be anyone who doesn't worship you? 

“Good boy,” you say, and Zhongli inhales sharply. 

For you, he wants to say. Only for you.

He doesn't, afraid to speak; afraid that to murmur even the softest of praises would cause you to pull away. 

Does he tell you, he wonders, that he wants you to play with his hair? Does he tell you he wants you to love him completely, innocently, selfishly? Does he tell you he wants you to touch his skin, anywhere if it means having that small piece of contact? 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” you ask, and he can hear the small tint of mirth in your voice.

The question strikes him dumb. His body burns and his blood is singing. Zhongli doesn't care if you find him amusing. No, he delights in it. It doesn't matter as long as he means something at all to you.

His fingers twitch, and just barely does he manage to keep his hands to himself. 

“Everywhere,” he breathes.

[demonic0angel]

Possessed AU: Jazz Edition (click for clarity)

An AU similar to this one where Jason gets possessed by Jazz. However, instead of him dying and then her taking over his body, a botched ritual that involved some incompetent cult members and the Red Hood had Jazz’s (unwilling) spirit attaching to Jason’s body. He didn’t figure it out at first until he was in some sort of trouble and she helped him out.

Notes:

+ Jazz is not dead. Her body is still left behind where she was taken from and Danny and his friends are frantically searching for her spirit. Danny and their siblings are especially furious.

+ Jazz appears as hands coming out of Jason’s body. Occasionally, he can see her in his reflections or shadows, where she latches onto him.

+ The pictures labeled 1, 2, and 3 are a sequence of events that describes Jazz and Jason's relationship as they are forced to stay together.

1) Jazz tries to be a comfort to Jason but he was super freaked out by her and thought he was going crazy. Eventually, Jason succumbs to her affection while he's heavily injured and lets himself be taken care of by Jazz.

2) Jazz starts being able to come out even when Jason is not in danger of dying. At some point, Jason realizes that she is an actual spirit (and not his imagination) and together, they work together to make their situation a beneficial one.

3) Jazz is eventually able to fully possess Jason's body, usually when he's incapitated/unconscious. However, sometimes he feels bad for her, so he lets her take over (and also so he doesn't have to deal with his life or his problems. Jazz has no issue with resolving his problems for him.)

+ While possessed by Jazz, his eyes turn turquoise and he is generally very pleasant. Jazz also has a habit of taking care of him, which involves better clothes, self-care, and a lot of eating and sleeping. She kinda treats him like a pet or doll (since she's "wearing" him), which is why he looks like a librarian in 3 lmaooo

+ The Batfam doesn't realize what's happening at first until one of them catches Jason while he's possessed by Jazz. Him being gentle and kind (and not knowing who they are) clued them in and they eventually had to kidnap him for answers lmao.

+ Although I say that this AU is similar to the other possessed AU, I think they'd be in different worlds. If I was to make AUs of the other Phantoms possessing the Bats, they'd also be in different universes bc combining them all would need different backstories from the ones I'm thinking of.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright so one of the DCxDP Aus:

It's vaugley inspired by another post I can't find where Amity jumps around the country and sometimes field trips turn into week long road trips. Only vague because I saw: Fentons make the school buses turn into alien invasion shelters and brain went burrrrrrrr.

Anyways, so Superman is fighting off against aliens who have kryptonite. He's trying his best but he's failing, he can't get up.

Meanwhile, a school bus full of kids are watching. Amity Park, after their own world nearly killed them all being led by the GIW who managed to convince everyone ghosts were evil, had displaced itself and now bounces around dimensions. Usually it stays for a week so it's safe enough for trips but this time it didn't. No big, Danny can sense a portal in a city called Gotham so they were on their way when BANG invasion.

Danny thinks it's fun and frankly so does everyone else but Lancer who is exhausted.

Then they see Superman being hurt and…

Danny’s Obsession is both Protection and Space. They know Superman is an alien. He is the Ghost King and the class has become his Fraid through time. They all feel the need to protect.

So they do.

Danny bursts out of the bus first as Phantom and starts blasting. Sam is next, vines erupting from the ground to grab and drag aliens away, one of which she drags to Tucker so he can steal their tech to start hacking. Paulina is out with teeth bared and breathing fire, scales appearing. Dash is using his enhanced strength as Kwan using his super speed. Other kids pour out fighting. Then Star shouts: “KRYPTONITE IS HARDENED ECTOPLASAM! WE CAN EAT IT!”

The kids start snatching and chowing down as other heroes arrive. There are no adverse affects so they let the kids have their fun as they help Superman stand up.

At the end of the invasion, Mr. Lancer (who had come out to with a Blastor in hand) sighed. “Is there paperwork? We were trying to get to a portal in Gotham.”

Que: What?

Danny: “Yeah our home town we had to displace from our him dimension after they wanted to experiment on all of us. Amity pops up in a lot of universes and it's fun!”

Star: “Sometimes our field trips end with us finding the nearest portal though. Danny can find them.”

This just gets questions but like, Lancer is filling out paperwork and the teens are chatting with heroes happily so it ends up they just kind of roll with it.

The conversations are weird though.

Danny: “Ranking for this world?”

Sam: “Top ten. Not higher then Faerun.”

Tucker: “You just liked how you got involved in that one cult and helped summon a Nature God to murder a bunch of polluters.”

Sam: “And?”

Paulina: “I like that one world where everyone had some sort of power. That Midoriya kid was cute. To bad we got caught before we could sneak him on the bus.”

Lancer: “No kidnapping anyone to Amity!”

Tucker: “I liked the time we ended up on that one planet- Palaven? That was fun.”

Danny: “Yeah it was!”

The kids move on and Batman escorts them to Gotham. The portal turns out to be the Lazarus Pit (oh joy) and then life moves on.

Until a month later when Flash sees the kids at a Museum and learns Amity Park came back. The city begins hanging around more and we discoverAmith likes this dimension. It eventually settles near Gotham and Metropolis. Sometimes it vanishes but it always returns.

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:28」 — k.soonyoung

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➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, cat anatomy; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry for skipping two days in a row. I will be tacking those on at the end of Kinktober just like the others I missed so don’t worry. Jisung’s I just lost track of time and Christian’s fell on game day and I didn’t even realize it. I’ll get them done and added to the end of Kinktober, I promise lol anyway, here is our resident cult leader, Soonie and his tiger agenda. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), heat cycles, rough sex, unprotected sex (just don’t do this. Use protection lol), non-human genitalia (like yunho, Soon’s got a barbed d!ck because cat. Don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idc), scent marking (f receiving), biting (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: baby, kitten, beautiful, etc.; his: babe, Soonie, baby, etc.), I think i got all of them but let me know if I missed any! kinks: heat cycles + rough sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜

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“Kwon Soonyoung, I know you're home! Let me in, damn it!”

Soonyoung raised his head as he sat with his back against the door. He'd lost track of how long he'd been sitting there while you stood outside his apartment door, knocking, ringing the bell, demanding to be let in. He'd lost track of how many times he'd almost given.

Almost.

It's not that he didn't want to see you, he did. He wanted to see you more than anything, but he knew if he let you into his apartment, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping you. Especially now that he could smell you.

It was always a rough time for him when he went into heat. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just female animals that went into heat, males also went into heat too and as a weretiger, Soonyoung was no exception. He'd spent most of his formative years dealing with it on his own and for a long time, he avoided being intimate with anyone because of the weird physiological changes to his body.

Unlike many werecreatures, Soonyoung's curse was a generational one and he was not bitten or scratched. His was passed from father to son and inherited by blood. The changes lay dormant until a boy started to go through puberty. By the time he was 18, Soonyoung had gone through just under two hundred and thirty full moon transformations.

And now, at twenty eight years of age, he'd been through over three hundred and fifty transformations. His heat always came the week leading up to the full moon. He was always consumed with an insatiable need to fuck something and he was very good at holding himself back.

Until you came along.

The sweet, caring, and unsuspecting girl who lived across the courtyard from him in the same apartment as him but on the other side of the complex. From his balcony, Soonyoung could see your balcony and the windows that looked into your apartment. 

You kept an assortment of potted plants on your balcony and had installed some sort of netting or mesh to sort of close in the area which made sense because as soon as it went up, he saw an orange tabby cat lounging at the top of a cat tree.

Know you liked cats gave Soonyoung the drive to talk to you the next time he saw you in the courtyard with what he thought was little success but his poorly executed joke still managed to make you laugh and get him your number.

From then on, he was hooked and the moment you invited him over for dinner, he was a goner. One date turned into two and then three and soon, he had the privilege of calling you his girlfriend.

You both maintained separate spaces in the building and he found it kind of cute, his girlfriend living across the courtyard from him. Your cats, which he learned there were actually two, were the sweetest creatures on earth and absolutely adored him. The girl, a white one with orange markings and long fur, was named Pad Thai and the boy, the short hair orange tabby, was named Cheezit. 

Soonyoung had taken to calling them his children and joked with his friends that you had full custody and he got visitations. It was a joke you took in stride and accepted fully, sending silly videos of the cats pretending to use your phone and making silly voices for them, speaking to their dad. It often made his day all that much brighter when he couldn’t come visit you.

Soonyoung had yet to tell you about his condition, only mentioning that he wasn’t like most guys, urging that he wasn’t just saying that and that it was a thousand percent true. He just hadn’t found the right time to tell you exactly how different he was. How does one even go about telling their partner that they’re a weretiger?

It was a conversation Soonyoung knew needed to happen but it just hadn’t yet. Which is why he was stuck in this situation now with you pounding on the door to be let in.

Soonyoung had started telling you that his once a month disappearance was just him coming down with something. He started with the usual excuses, the flu, the cold, stomach flu, even covid but he was starting to run out of excuses. He also hated using illness as an excuse because your immediate response was to offer to bring him medicine and food, usually in the form of soup, stew, or broth. He always gave the same excuse for not opening the door.

He didn’t want to get you sick.

At first, you took it as your boyfriend being cautious and caring but soon, you started to get suspicious and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade much longer. He was going to have to come clean and tell you the truth much sooner rather than later.

A conversation he had been dreading ever since asking you to be his girlfriend.

The wood behind him shook as another series of loud knocks rang out, no doubt you beating your fist against the door. “Kwon Soonyoung!” you shouted. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, as if it might make you leave faster. He felt awful. He hated ignoring you but in his mind, it was for the best when he was in heat. He couldn’t risk scaring you off and losing you.

Another series of knocks shook the door, which was surprising given your somewhat smaller stature. For one so little, you sure were strong. And loud. “Kwon Soonyoung! If you do not open this door right now, we are done!” 

Soonyoung’s eyes opened quickly and he turned his head to look back at the door. ‘She wouldn’t…’ he thought to himself. “I mean it, Soonyoung! If you don’t open this door, consider us through!” Something in your tone made him scramble up to his feet, hastily pulling at the locks separating you from him. He could tell you weren’t kidding.

He kept the chain on, opening the door only a few inches as he looked out into the hall at you. He held his breath as he took in your frame. You’d showered recently, he could smell the scent of your shampoo and body wash, mixing with your natural scent and making his cock twitch in his pants.

On your face was a furious expression and his heart sank immediately. If he had cat ears, this is where they would flatten back against his head in fear. You were terrifying when you were mad. He’d never been on the receiving end of your anger before nor had he really seen it in action.

“H-hey,” he stammered. His eyes dipped down to see the thermos in your hand that no doubt held a homemade soup, stew, or broth of some kind but he couldn’t be sure with how tightly the lid was screwed on nor with how overpowering your scent was.

“Don’t you hey me,” you said, your eyes narrowing at him. “Open the door and let me in.” Soonyoung grimaced. He wanted more than anything to let you in but he knew if he did, there was no telling how he’d react to having you so close when he was aching, burning, to be touched. It wasn’t a good idea on many levels.

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. You scoffed, placing a hand on your hip and looking every bit the sassy girlfriend he knew and loved. “Don’t try that bullshit with me,” you snapped. “I know you aren’t sick,” you added. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as he looked up from the thermos in your hand to meet your hardened gaze. “Wh-what?” he breathed. 

“I spoke to Jihoon,” you started to explain. “He told me the truth.” Soonyoung’s stomach sank as the realization that his best friend had outed him to you. ‘Well fuck,’ he thought. It looked like he was going to have to have a talk with Jihoon.

“So let me in. We need to talk.” Soonyoung sighed and closed the door, undoing the chain before pulling the door open for you to enter his apartment. He shut the door behind you and prepared for the storm.

You didn’t unload on him immediately, instead sliding your shoes off and walking towards the kitchen where you set the thermos down. He followed, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched you move around his kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a spoon from their resting places.

You placed the bowl down next to the thermos and unscrewed the lid silently, pouring out a very hearty looking stew. It smelled amazing, the scent of meat, herbs, and potatoes invading his senses. “Jihoon said you aren’t exactly sick. Just that during this time, you don’t feel well,” you said as you finished pouring the hot stew into the bowl, setting the thermos down and pushing the bowl towards your boyfriend, holding out the spoon.

Soonyoung glanced at the spoon and the bowl before looking at you. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” you said leaning over the counter. Soonyoung’s eyes dipped down to your chest, the curve of your breast visible down your shirt from where he stood. “You’re going to take the damn spoon and eat while I talk. Sound good?” 

Soonyoung nodded, moving to sit at the kitchen island and grabbing the spoon from your hand. The moment your skin met, electricity and heat spread throughout his body, the urge to pounce on you from across the counter trying to take the reins but he managed to push it down and simply started eating.

You watched him take a few bites before speaking.

“I know you’re a weretiger,” you said softly, drawing his attention as he looked up at you, his mouth full of bits of beef and potatoes. “Jihoon told me everything. I will admit I’m a little shocked you didn’t tell me all of this but I can’t imagine it’s an easy subject to bring up so I’ll give you a pass there,” you explained. “That being said, I wish you would have just told me the truth. Did you think I would judge you? Did you think I would leave or break up with you?” 

Soonyoung swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I didn’t know what to expect, actually,” he answered truthfully. “I was less scared about you finding out about me being a weretiger and more scared that I—” he hesitated, looking down at his bowl of food. You followed his gaze. “Finish eating,” you told him. “I have more to say anyway.

By the time Soonyoung had finished his bowl of stew and ate another at your insistence, you were sitting on the couch, Soonyoung resting over your legs as he hugged around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, a deep rumbling emanating from his chest as he purred happily. You stroked his hair, massaging his scalp with your finger tips.

“This is nice,” you said softly as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Mhm,” Soonyoung hummed. Silence fell over the two of you for a few minutes before you couldn’t stop yourself from asking a question that was at the forefront of your mind.

“Soonie,” you said softly, gently tugging at his hair. “Hmm?” he asked, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. “Can I ask you what you meant earlier about being scared?” You felt him stiffen under your touch before he finally lifted his head, looking up at you. “Wh-what about it?” he asked.

You brushed his hair back from his forehead, cupping his cheek at the same time. “What are you scared of, babe?” Soonyoung took a deep breath before pulling himself up to sit. “I’m scared of frightening you,” he finally answered, glancing at your hand before reaching over to take it in his.

“Of frightening me? How would you frighten me?” you asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Soonyoung looked down at your joined hands before speaking. “You know how when we’re intimate?” he asked softly, not looking up as you nodded. “Yes,” you replied, a small smile on your lips. “Well, when the week of the full moon approaches, I start to… change,” he continued.

“My body starts to change.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as your smile spread. “Is this about your heat?” you asked nonchalantly. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as his gaze snapped up to meet yours. “Y-you know about that?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, your smile only growing. “You think I’m going to learn that my boyfriend is a weretiger and not look up what all of that entails? I know everything, baby. Your heat, your transformation cycle, all of it. I also know your curse is familial and not transferred by bites or scratches. Jihoon told me that part though,” you said, reaching up to brush his hair back again.

“And I already know what happens to your cock, so there’s no need to explain that to me.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened comically. “I learned that on my own by reading. Jihoon did not inform me of that part,” you added, reaching up to bop the end of his nose with the tip of your finger. “I know all about the sexual changes, the heat cycle, the penile spines, copulation, all of it. I know everything.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed, alarmed, or relieved. He felt a mixture of all three as he sat there on his couch with you. “Do you also know about the insatiable urge I have to be buried inside you whenever you’re around?” he asked, noticing how your eyes widened slightly. “No,” you answered softly before a smirk started to form.

“But now I do.”

Soonyoung could feel heat creeping up his neck towards his face at the same time heat settled in the pit of his stomach. A new smell invaded his nostrils. The smell of arousal but it wasn’t his own. He glanced down quickly before looking back up. “Can you smell me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, the smirk still present on your face. He nodded slowly, holding your gaze.

You leaned back against the arm of the couch, spreading your legs slightly. Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered shut as the scent hit him stronger. He could feel his cock painfully hard in his pants. “Baby,” Soonyoung said softly as a shiver ran up his spine, that insatiable need to bury his cock inside your warm cunt starting to take over. “If you don’t stop me,” he continued, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.

“I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll…” he trailed off as your hands moved, sliding down your body. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he said, swallowing thickly as his eyes followed your hands. “Maybe that’s what I want,” you said softly. “Maybe I want you to pounce on me.”

Soonyoung turned his head, averting his gaze as he tried to steady his erratic breathing. He felt the couch move and then your hand under his chin, turning his head to face you. “Don’t look away from me,” you said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Soonyoung whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I promise you won’t,” you replied, leaning into his touch.

“I want you to let it take control. You need this,” you continued, taking one of his hands and guiding it between your thighs, pressing his fingers against your cloth covered crotch. “Pin me down, Soonie. Fuck me like I know you want to.”

Soonyoung let out a sound between a moan and a growl as he closed the distance,  the hand on your cheek sliding to the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You moaned as he pushed you back onto the couch, pinning you down with his weight alone. 

You could feel his erection in his pants press against you, rutting slightly. “I don’t think I can wait,” he murmured against your lips, hands moving to pull at your shorts. “Then don’t,” you urged as he pulled back, fingers working to undo the tie of your shorts. He made quick work of them, pulling them and your panties off. “Shirt off,” he grumbled as he pulled his own off.

You watched him instead as he undid his pants. He glanced up at you. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his hands stilling. “I’m watching you,” you replied. “He glanced down at your shirt. “Shirt. Off,” he repeated. “What?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “You heard me,” Soonyoung growled as he stared you down. “Take. It. Off. Now.” 

You let out a giggle before complying, pulling your shirt off as he resumed undoing his pants and pushing them down, kicking them off before leaning over you, lips kissing a path up your chest to your neck. “Turn over,” he whispered in your ear.

You did as he asked, rolling over onto your stomach as he leaned over your back. You felt him rub his cheek against your shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked with a chuckle. “Marking you,” he replied simply. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as he grabbed one of the pillows and guided you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you.

With your hips raised, he guided the head of his cock to your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip before starting to push into you with a guttural moan. You gasped as he stretched you, the spines on his cock creating a rough but not entirely unpleasant texture as he bottomed out.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he pulled back, the spikes raking your walls slightly. He thrusted into you harshly and you cried out. Soonyoung leaned over your back, covering your mouth with his hand. “The neighbors will complain, kitten,” he whispered in your ear. “You have to be quiet.”

He gave you another harsh thrust, slamming into you roughly as he set a brutal and unrelenting pace. “Is it too much?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head, biting into your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. You couldn’t hold back when you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. “Fuck, sorry baby,” he panted as he pounded into you.

“S’okay,” you gasped, walls spasming around him as he send you hurtling towards your orgasm which hit you, the strength making your legs shake as he continued to fuck you through it. “Are you okay?” he groaned as your cunt continued to flutter around his cock. You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” you gasped. “I’m – ah! – M’fine — oh god, Soonyoung!”

A second orgasm washed over you and still he kept thrusting, not showing any signs of slowing down. You knew by the end of it you were going to be a bruised, panting, sticky mess but you couldn’t be bothered to care now that he wasn’t holding back and showing you a new side to him you’d never experienced. As he sent you toppling over the edge of your third orgasm, he finally came without warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder again as his load exploded inside you, painting your walls in his sticky white essence.

“Fuck!” he growled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing wet kissing against your skin. “Didn’t mean to yell in your ear.” You merely chuckled as you shook your head. “It’s fine, babe,” you replied. “Was I too rough?” he asked suddenly and again you answered with a shake of your head. “No,” you answered. “That was great. In fact,” you said as you lifted your head.

“I’m coming over more often to help with your heat if it means you’ll fuck me like that.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[asapeveryday]

noctuary pt.1 - p.b + tlou au

noc·​tu·​ary ˈnäkchəˌwerē

: a collection of a single night's events, thoughts or dreams

—

pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader, slight Paige Bueckers x Ellie Williams in future maybe idk yet but just for plot purposes

AU: The Last of Us 2 x Wbb crossover

warnings: Graphic descriptions of injury, blood. brief mention of assault, cannibalism. more juicy stuff in later chapters probs

synopsis: you meet her on the brink of giving up. she’s suspicious, too nice, too charismatic. she should be a psychopath, or some sort of cult recruiter, but instead she’s enamouring. you’ve got nowhere to go, she’s eager to have nobody to be.

notes: I intend on making this a short series because I’m honestly obsessed w this crossover. also you don’t really have to know much about tlou to enjoy this, it works from a basic zombie apocalypse perspective too honestly!

also what wbb players would we want to see appearing in this story in the future?

You’re running—trying to run.

It hurts, it burns so bad, like you’ve been bathed in acid from the calf down. It’s dull pulsing that’s built up with every drag of your foot through the rough gravel roads.

You’re whimpering with every limp, lips bitten raw, face coated with sweat and grime. You can hear the faint clicking behind you, to your left and off somewhere farther to your right.

You’ve been following this trail for ages, bag on your back weighing heavy, trying to outrun clicker after clicker. No matter the turn, they just keep coming.

And it’s starting to look like this might be it for you.

It wasn’t meant to end up this way. It should’ve been a decent job—not easy, but something you could handle. Deliver the product, collect the payment, make it back alive, keep half.

But you’d been sold out, given a wrong location, led to your slaughter.

“Fuck,” you cry, saliva flying from your lips, “oh, fuck.”

You’re aching all over now, shivering with fear. Your heart is hammering like a strong baseline, shaking your very core.

This is it, this is how you’re going to die. Alone, a bag full of goods that nobody will every get to use, pockets empty.

You’ll be mauled right here, on this barren road.

Infected.

Turned.

You turn to look at your leg, the state of it. Skin peeled back, flesh running ruby red, blaring danger, death, the end. The sight makes you want to vomit. You stumble, hitting the ground hard. Your elbows are covered in gravel, it gets in your wound, mixes with your blood.

You can see them clearly now. Inhuman, monstrous things you’ve managed to avoid since birth, one way or another. None of it matters now. It all amounts to nothing.

You hear the crunch of gravel behind you, but you don’t bother to turn and see what abomination is waiting for you. You don’t think you can stomach it, facing one head on, feeling it’s flesh-rotten breath on your skin before it tears into your soul.

You focus on the one ahead. Approaching. Five steps before you, four, three now.

The crunch behind you swings ‘round your side. You flit your eyes to the ground, where the blood from your leg mixes with the road. You don’t want to watch when it happens happen.

I’m gonna die, You think, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonn—

Beaten sneakers. Light purple, tied tight laces. Wide stance, heels facing you.

There’s the brief noise of something cutting the air.

You watch the ground as the clicker’s head hits the gravel.

The sound of slaughter fills the formerly quiet night. A crow caws from somewhere farther off, softly drowned beneath the squelches, and the sounds of metal flying through flesh.

And then the clicking is gone. And the movement stops.

The sneakers, now a little bloodier than before, turn around to face you.

Your slaughter doesn’t come.

You look up.

Powder blue irises, downturned, scrutinizing. Straight, dark lashes. Pale skin, dotted with rotten blood, blemishes, picked pores. Lips full, slightly parted.

She turns to the side for a second, checking her surroundings. You analyze high cheekbones, oily blonde hair pulled back tight into a ponytail. Her grey tank and cargo’s are spoiled with clicker guts. Sweat gleams on her skin, bloodied axe in hand.

She turns back to you, brows furrowed. Then she holds the axe out to your neck.

"You bit?" She asks, all business.

You shake your head no as best as you can without grazing the tip of the blade, heart hammering wildly.

"You're telling me that," her gaze dips down to your leg, "isn't a bite?"

"S-" You manage to croak, wincing as your throat sears, "saw."

"Saw?" She raises a brow. "It's from a saw?"

You nod. She takes a step back to survey the wound. Whatever it is that she sees, she's satisfied with.

“Get up.”

Her words sound like they’re underwater.

She looks around again, making sure it’s safe, before dropping to your level. Her legs bend into a crouch, one hand on her knee while the other grips the axe with a ready ferocity.

“I said, get up.”

Finally her words register. You stir, shifting your weight forward to pull yourself up, before a wave of exhaustion and pain washes over you. She notices your wince, the struggle.

She frowns. You can see she feels inconvenienced by you.

But she doesn’t leave.

“Give me the bag.” She says, jutting her head to motion to your back pack.

Now it’s your turn to furrow your brows. You can’t say much, the words catch in your throat. You manage to back up enough for her to get the hint, hands possessively flying back to grasp the rough material that you almost died for.

“It’ll slow you down.” She says evenly. “Pick. Either you leave it or I carry it for you.”

You weigh your options.

“Or,” she licks her lips, “I leave you here alone and keep it for myself.”

You hold her frigid stare for as long as you can before you realize she won’t budge on this. Slowly, you remove your arms from the straps of your backpack, and attempt to get up.

She springs back to her full height, stepping around you to grab the knapsack and swing it over one shoulder while her own is on the other.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is in this?” She curses.

You shakily rise from the road, gravel stuck to whatever exposed skin hit it earlier. Silent.

“C’mon.” She side glances you, taking a few steps forward. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you talkin’ in no time.”

--

The walk is difficult.

The night is high now, and it's a struggle to keep your eyes open. You try your best sheerly out of the fear that if you let them shut, they may never open again.

She doesn't offer a hand, not an ounce of support. She just watches, eyes wide and frosted around the edges.

Her biceps pop against the moonlight as she shoulders two backpacks with ease, walking ahead of you. Just enough to lead while she can still see you.

You get the feeling that if she felt it was best to help you, she would. Her gaze isn't judging—moreso analyzing. Testing you.

You realize this walk is a test.

Under her dissecting stare, you can’t help but wonder for what?

"Little longer." She hums from ahead, smile barely grazing her lips. "Almost there, soldier."

You take it that if this is a test, you're not doing too bad.

So, you keep pushing. Your left leg is practically dragging now, heavy like baggage on your body. The gravel is damper here, you can feel it in the noises under your feet.

The girl stops walking, turning to face you. You're heaving now, throat dry and lips cracked to the point of bleeding. You haven't had water since this morning, and a lot has happened since then.

She surveys your state, brows furrowed in thought. She zeros in on your raspy breathing, your dirt-caked hair and bloodied calf.

"C’mon." She turns away, her voice a little softer now. You trail behind her as she breaks from the gravel road and steps into the surrounding fields of tall grass and cattails.

Mud squelches from beneath you when you realize you're at the foot of a pond.

The blonde takes off both backpacks, throwng them to the ground before kneeling by the edge of the pond. She unzips her own bag, retrieving a cloth from the big pocket and dipping it in the water.

Then she looks up at you, her blue eyes slightly warm, before cocking her head, gesturing for you to sit.

Cautiously, you obey.

The night is quiet with the exception of rippling water and crickets hidden in the cattails. You try not to whimper when she peels the remainders of your shredded pants from your left leg, and presses the wet cloth to your wound.

Her eyes watch closely at your reaction to every movement she makes.

It unnerves you, her attentiveness, her kindesss, of all things. It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. She cleans the gash off with such silent care that you’re entirely put off.

It doesn’t help that she keeps glancing up at you with those winter-light eyes, asking silent questions you’re too scared to answer.

"So," she begins, "what's in the bag?"

You send her the most pointed look you can muster.

"Aight.” She shrugs. “Secretive one, aren’t you.” She teases, reaching behind her to grab at your bag. In attempts to stop her you try to kick her with your un-injured leg. She catches your foot before it can even come close to hitting her, eyes wide with either amusement or warning.

"Easy." She hums.

It's quiet again after that. She puts more pressure on your leg, the cold water serving some relief to you. After a while the bleeding slows enough to leave the cloth draped over your injury, and you watch intently as she rummages through her backpack some more, before finally pulling out a flask.

"Prolly should've done this first." She snorts, opening the flask and taking a quick swig. Her face sours for a moment before the expression is gone, replaced by a lopsided smile.

"This is gonna burn bad." She looks at you. "But it's nothing you can't take."

When she pours the alcohol over your leg, it's like all hell has come down to personally punish you.

You can’t help but genuinely whimper when the alcohol touches your skin, the burning exemplified tenfold. Your hands fly to your leg, but the blonde grabs them in a tight grasp.

Her hands are calloused, large against yours. She entwines her fingers between your own, and you don’t even think to care. The pressure of her grasp is needed. When your hands leave here to grip her forearm, she doesn’t so much as flinch, even when your fingernails dig into her pale skin. She holds you tight till’ the burn subsides.

"I know," she mumbles, "I know it hurts, I know."

As you grip onto her flesh, she takes the time to ring out the now bloody cloth before soaking it in more lake water. It isntantly cools your skin when she gingerly places it on you again.

"I'm sorry. That's pretty much all I got." She sighs apologetically. "Wasn't expecting to run into any strays today."

You shoot her another look.

"Oh, you don't like that, huh?" She grins. "So what should I call you then?"

Her stare feels like two bullets through the back of your head. Startling, all too strong. You wet your lips in attempt to muster the ability to talk, but your throat is raw. You can feel scabs forming on the surface of your mouth.

Her eyes dip to your lips, then back again. She turns to rummage through the backpack again, and pulls out another flask, handing it to you.

"My bad." She mumbles.

You snatch it from her and unscrew the top, clumsily chugging from the flask with no shame. It’s like a beacon of light shining through your body, the water is lukewarm but clean and soothing. You don’t care that it dribbles down from the corner of your mouth as you hand the flask back to her.

Her face is amused, to say the least. Eyebrows raised, lips quirked upward. She takes it from you, fingertips brushing yours, and drinks the few drops you left behind. You watch as she licks her damp lips, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You gonna talk now?” She cocks her head.

“Not much to say.” You respond simply, holding her eye.

You can see the way her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek, obviously trying to be patient with you. “You think I’m gonna let you off the hook like that?” She says.

“Thank you for saving me.” You manage to bite out, shifting in your seat on the grassy bank by the lake. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Yeah, sure.” She snorts, and you feel a twinge of agitation in your gut. “Good luck, on that leg.”

“Okay…” your gaze hardens, “so what exactly do you want from me? Because I don’t have any valuables, and I’m a pretty shitty fuck.”

“I’m not gonna assault you.” She deadpans.

“Normal people don’t help other people out of the goodness of their heart.” You tut. “And they definitely don’t waste supplies on weaklings. So you must be a rapist. Or a cannibal. Or both.”

“I’m neither!” She groans, hand on her head. “I found you. Thought I’d give you a hand. And where I’m coming from, water and fucking dishrags barely count as supplies.” She bites.

“And where exactly do you come from?” You raise a brow. You note her clothes, which are fairly nice aside from the drying cordycept blood, and her backpack, which is grimey but un-frayed around the edges like most are these days.

“Could ask you the same thing.” She smiles, like she’s caught you in a trap. “I found you being chased by at least 3 clickers, heavy ass bag which you’re protecting with your life, and leg cut open with a fucking saw.”

She has you there. You’re both quiet.

Then she gets up, brushing her pants off before looking down at you.

“C’mon.” She clicks her tongue.

“I think I’m good from here. Thanks for the help again.” You mutter, briefly happy she’s leaving before she grabs your bag.

“Hey!” You jerk, stumbling on your feet to reach for it. Your leg sears again, and you wince, losing balance. Her hands reach out for you, steadying your body before you can even attempt to catch your fall.

“Easy, baby.” She laughs. “You’re right, you know. I’ve been too nice.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen, stomach lurching at what that could mean.

“I’m taking your bag.” She hums. “You don’t want me to touch it, so obviously it’s worth having.”

“No.” You bite, frustration rising despite the fact that her bare arms are still holding you up. You let your fingernails dig into her skin, but her expression once again doesn’t change. “I fucking worked my ass off for that bag. You can’t take it.”

“I can.” She shrugs. “And I will. Only thing is, I’m gonna be nice again and give you the option to come with it.”

You blink.

“I want what’s in here.” She hums. “But I think you’re worth dragging back home with me.”

You blink again, slower this time.

“What?” You manage to get out.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna repay me by coming back to my community.”

“Fuck no.” You bite.

“Fuck yes.” She smiles. “I’m putting you to work. I know for a fact it’ll be better than whatever shady shit you were doing before…getting your leg hacked off with a fucking saw, for Christ’s sake.”

You ponder. It’s not like you have anywhere to be, like you have a home to go back to. That was over, especially if you came back lighter than you left. The saw wouldn’t be the end of it.

But this could be worse, for all you know.

“You have good clothes.” You state.

“More than enough to go around.” She nods, glancing at your thin, sweat soaked t-shirt and bloody pants.

You glance at the arms that you’re grasping onto, and you squeeze at the curve of her biceps. “You have enough to eat.”

“Uh..” She trails off, watching the way your fingers curl around her muscles. She swallows, hard, before nodding. “Food isn’t a problem for us yet.”

“Us?”

“Us.” She nods. “There’s a few hundred, I’d say.”

“All contributing?” You ask.

“As best as they can.”

You loosen your grip on her arms, realizing you’re feeling her up.

“How long is the walk?”

“Long.” She bites her lip. “We’ll take breaks.”

You stare into her eyes again. Crystal blue bullets, pretty lashes, wide eyed mirth just waiting to seep out.

It's either that or die alone out here. All signs point to yes.

——

Taglist:

@sweetbcgs @angelliicc

[aveloka-draws]

Hello one of my favourite horror artists. I have a question, besides your own AU of course, which Cult of the lamb AU do you like the most?

oooo too many let's see (not tagging them cause I dont want to bother/some of these artists have paused/moved on from the cotl aus pls be respectful)

⭐Acis-arts's swap au, it's so fun seeing their characters interacting with the roles changed from the game and manages to have very adorable moments that I live for.

⭐Bogor-o's cotl mother au, I find the character of mother and making the cult be a sort of 'family' a very creepy fun take on the game.

⭐Bee's Little Nightmares au, what ive seen and been told about its so fun and I need more of it i have to devour all of it.

⭐Dogiperson's yuri bad ending(?) au it's devastating and I adore Nari's soul crushing guilt over what happened to the lamb, bonus points for spookiness.

⭐Acoraxia's god games au, the dynamics between the gods gaaaa so interesting and messed up at times, made me worry for the characters in a good way. and the outfits?? beautiful.

⭐Ghosts-and-glory's no devotion au, everything about it. Just everything about it chefs kiss.

⭐Bamsara's Wonderland au, it's an alice madness inspired au need i say more?

⭐Stychu-stych's Modern au, obsessed with the Narilamb dynamic and how the game's themes are translated to modern times, bonus points for cannibalism.

⭐Eliza-forget's Bishop au, their take on the bishops's past is so interesting to see, and with a ton of humor at times too. This Shamura?? so good.

⭐Runningwithscizzorz's Wanderlust au, I adore a good messed up lamb, and the body horror? delicious. I need to absorb their artstyle its gorgeous and so alive in a way?

There are many others I like but these are the ones I got in mind.

[iloveyanderes]

Got an idea, it’s been plaguing my mind for weeks now. Know genshin cult au? Well take the sagau out of it and add in honkai star rail!

Cult au with the Aeon’s and their darlings. The followers of the different aeons are the cult members. Some cults have one darling while others having multiple. The only thing completely the same being the fact that the Aeons are the one’s choosing the darlings(only being chosen by their followers if they of course physically cannot like Idrila or Akivili)

Right now I'm gonna only do the aeon’s that I’m familiar with and also smut warning but it probably won’t be accurate as I am asexual and never actually had sex before. Also this will technically be non-con as its a cult and very heavy themes of yandere with violence genocide having your loved ones be killed right in front of you,forced worship, gaslighting, manipulation, and a messed up viewpoint of ‘taking care of someone’ so please don’t read if your not comfortable with this.

Minors DNI

First I’d have to start with akivili themselves. It might be a little bit disappointing to you but they would be the least concerning of all the possible cults. The trailblazers quite literally are travelers so they’re darling is not trapped, akivili likely only had one darling who he adventures with and that's the only darling the nameless have. The real only yandere part of this is the fact that the nameless are all overprotective. Akivili had been overprotective but still wouldn’t do anything as they loved the trailblaze, when they mysteriously vanished the darling stayed behind and still helped the nameless do their trailblazing. When the train broke down darling fell into a coma until himeko found the train and repaired it. Now the trailblazers defy the norms and actually set off to free all the darlings eternally trapped in the depths of the aeons clutches.

Now everything after this gets serious.

Let's start with lan the hunt.

Lan has no official main darling, he marks those who he deems either worthy or vulnerable. And the xianzhou alliance hunts them down and brings them to the xianzhou. Instead of normally getting married like normal people the people who can hunt down those marked by the hunt can marry them-even multiple of these darlings if can get multiple of them(lets just say jing yuan and Feixiao have many darlings-collect them like cat) the purpose is to show everyone that your the strongest because you’ve proven yourself the most to the hunt by collecting the most darlings. What you do with the darlings is up to the person who captured them. They say the general jing yuan has gotten many of his darlings pregnant as proof of his victory, feixiao’s darlings are known for not being able to walk after a night with her. All the darlings are usually covered head to toe in all sorts of hickeys and bite marks as proof of the cultists victory. Very rough treatment that the darlings go through.

Not nearly as rough as the darlings of Nanook have to endure though. Nanook believed that the universe is a mistake, everything except for their darlings of course. The less than a handful of darlings that Nanook chose. The followers of Nanook are only allowed to have the darling that Nanook himself picked out. Nanook himself is very cruel to his darlings but he sees it as “showing them the truth” He’ll kill one of his darlings entire family in front of them while having one of his followers eat them out to slowly train them into thinking that annihilating the universe is the best possible thing to do. Other than completely destroying everything that they love he treats the darlings like kings or queens and their followers obviously picking up on this and replicating this.

Now weirdly enough I’m thinking a lot about the Aeon Idrila, I’d imagine before her disappearance or death? Whatever happened to her, she was an aeon who actually took a lover rather than a darling. However, upon her not being there anymore her followers became delusional and thought they had to trap and contain beauty or else it’ll leave them just like idrila did. The knights of beauty are the only cultists in the universe that actually choose their darlings because idrila can’t. On new years eve they track down the most beautiful girl/boy they can find, kidnap them, then forcibly pleasure them until they’ve reached the pinnacle of beauty that they could make and then encase them in resin so they’ll never look any different-with a pleasure toy stuck on one of there most sensitive spots so they still feel pleasure even after being encased eternally. It also would’ve been super cool if Idrila had a main darling who was actually her lover but was kidnapped by the knights of beauty after her disappearance because they were afraid to lose idrilas last living proof of having existed, so after new years all 364 days are spent maintaining and upholding the main darling’s beauty-making them even more beautiful with endless pampering, lotions, and beauty care products. They’re also always overstimulated out of there mind because theres nothing more beautiful than someone constantly about to orgasm-according to the knights of beauty of course.

For the preservation I’d like to imagine that the main darling of Qlipoth is on the run from the IPC because they’ve long abandoned the will of the preservation but still pretend like they didn’t. Of course losing the main darling must’ve been the most humiliating thing possible so the IPC has kept it under wraps in the excuse that the main darling is ‘sick’ while secretly trying to hunt them down. They've come disgustingly close to getting the main darling and once they do the main darling is never going to see the light of day again. On the side note the other darlings are usually kept as pets or sugar babies. Sometimes the pet play gets a little too intense…

I'm going to end on the harmony because God that'd be a nightmare. Darlings of the harmony are chosen by xipe when they've been abused, hurt, or are in disharmony. Claiming that they need ‘help’. These darlings used to get actual help like therapy or a better opportunity to life but ever since the order became more prevelant they're now taken from there homes and kept under the ‘protection’ of the family. The family is there to bring them to ‘harmony’ which includes mind control, chains, and an endless amount of orgasms. One thing that is disappointing is the fact that people never talk about just how horrifying the harmony is, like you could be on the brink of orgasming and the harmony can make any pleasure you feel 10 times more intense and unavoidable, add the order and you can orgasm without ever even being touched. So intense you can't even remember your own name anymore. some ‘unruly’ darlings might even be drugged to the point there high out of there mind and can't even coherently think. The darlings of the harmony may be kept in gilded dreams and paradise but freedom stopped being an option.

One day a young singer named Robin found herself asking; ‘when did the harmony become less like the harmony and more like the order’

And that's all I have for now, may or may not be continued as this took me a very long time to make but anyone reading feel free to make a fanfic as I really like this idea.

Have a good day/night/evening/afternoon/morning!

[kamodofilez]

Penelope (Daughter of Death) & the Goat

Okay so, Penelope is the daughter of both Narinder and the Lamb like some time waaaaaaayyyyy in the future, while also having two whole other kids (Penelope is the youngest out of the three of them). Her childhood is rough but what can you do when you’re literally the last of your kind, and one of your parents is a god (and the other one is an ex-god)! I think like her parents, Penelope and her siblings get the immortality trait and thus end up living longer lives, but they don’t inherit any sort of godhood powers like the Lamb since it’s mainly coming from the crown if that makes sense?

In my AU, the lamb will end up having to go into death’s domain near the end of their ascension to godhood, and I’d like to think Narinder will follow since, ya know, love or some shit :]

This would lead to Penelope, who was the more interested of the three children, to lead the lamb’s cult in her parent’s name. Eventually she would find a suitor who she would start a family with, to (hopefully) bring back the lambs.

Also in this AU, I made the Goat the next bearer of the Purple crown, and ends up having Penelope and Shamura (probably but I haven’t fully finished the game so hold that thought) as their mentors since Penelope has had both parents with godhood experiences and Shamura who was literally the crown’s previous bearer.

(If you guys have watched the Legend of Korra series, then you’ll kinda see she (heavily) inspired by Tenzen for certain reasons)

If y’all have any questions then I’m all up for answering, especially since this is something I’m really interested in fleshing out more! :]

[narfin-frood]

another wave of swap doodles from another late night drawing sesh!

talking abt my new thoughts for the au also under the cut :))))))

so i've been thinking on the big catastrophic event. and i've landed on this:

i think the big catastrophic event is caused by the hat. the hat is never scooped up and adopted by wander during the big dispute the previous "owners" had, so it instead lands in the hands of jeff. jeff in the au is already a pretty normal, chill dude, with a band and a life. he's been friends with wander for a while, but during a lull where they don't see each other for a while, he gets ahold of the hat, and the possibilities overcome him. he Didn't Know how Good it feels to be Bad. and he's making up for lost time by tricking out his little ship with guns and thrusters and all sorts of evil stuff.

wander is taken into custody by sylvia, who is working for some organization like the men in black. she interrogates him, and realizes he doesn't know the first thing about what jeff has been up to in his absence, though she has pictures of them hanging out from years back.

they'd search for jeff, who announces himself as major threat when they finally catch up with him, and would attempt to produce some kind of enormous doomsday weapon from the hat. this would be like the last nail in the coffin for the hat, which was already within an inch of blowing up anyway, and it would explode and flatten the entire solar system and surrounding area, taking major threat with it.

sylvia and wander take shelter in a cave right before the blast hits, and when they come out, it's devastation all around. wander's been wrung out, now. his oldest friend is gone, and he feels to some degree responsible for the whole mess, even when sylvia assures him he isn't. they take a trip around and realize just how much damage the hat's explosion had done, and how far it stretches, and that's when wander starts to spiral. surely there's something he could've done to prevent it, and how dare he continue on when who knows how many wonderful people have just been vaporized in the midst of their "battle"(basically just yelling at major threat from a distance Not to Do It).

they come to rest on a planet that still has some firewood left, and sylvia goes off to gather it while wander takes shelter in another cave. A very damp cave, a dark cave, one that seems almost entirely untouched by time. and in the cave, there's one glowing orange mushroom.

anyway, that's about how long sylvia and wander know each other before the cult's inception. i think they only get to have a couple moments where they're just buds on a mission, and then it's all downhill. sylvia readily quits the men in black at some point between meeting wander and meeting major threat, but she retains the skills that made her such a good fit for it. and now, she doesn't have to wear those awful shoes that she hates.

honestly it's taken me so long to come up with something for it because, like i've said before, the wander over yonders are just kind of. backstory-less, largely. we get just enough backstory to want to know more, like with major threat and wander One Thousand Years Ago Exactly and sylvia's past as a bounty hunter, but. like. not much more than that.

and a lot of that has to do with the programming slot this show was given and how little time it actually spent on the air, like a lot of things, but also, y'know. tone. the show is aaaaaalmost a pure comedy, which i love it for, and the bits of tragedy and lore are almost always undercut with n jokes per minute. which!! again!!11! i like! i think it's fun and i like to be happy and have fun. and it also makes those moments of Ohhhh Ouchie my Feelings hit that much harder to have them entirely surrounded by peace love and funny joke.

so anyway. i kinda fear this backstory is just a little too #serious and makes too little #sense to me, but it's the closest i've come to something that makes sense for how wander turned out in the au. Shrugs. We shall see.

and all of this is from a little blurb i wrote for fun so like Please Dont Think This Is The Final Decision please. ill probably change All of this in some way or another bc i fear this gives sylvia very little time to be happy and i want her. to be happy. at some point. i need her to be happy more.

[flamingpudding]

I now have ideas for Klarion is like Robin au

Batman was caught trying to make a contingency plan for Vlad after Tim said that he was like Ra al Ghul

Something happened were Dr. Fate need the help of Vlad and Klarion but all of them right now are and they're civilian identities so they can't help all but one

Cowboy Lassie

So Vlad takes the JLD puts Red Robin he's there to help cuz they need to get Nanda Parbat

Where are the Justice Dark League get to see Lassie in her cowgirl attire I'm talking standard western shirts boots jeans cowboy hat sunglasses I'm talking country

Along with the large horse made out of Lazarus pit be the biggest hater ever to her father as she literally explains that she hates him so much that she started a cult just to hate him

Vlad was just begging for her to help the only reason she does is cuz he brought up her ma

Dan was too busy to help because of the fact he's the head of the theater committee and had about it Danny has incredibly important meeting that he couldn't leave no matter what

And the rest of his kids definitely not going to help him

I should start feeling sorry for Vlad but this AU is just to funny to do so...

Good I love your ideas!

Also sorry if this is not up to how I usually write, I am kind of stuck in a bit of a writers block again thanks to my work....

Anyway! Here we go!

------------------------------

Red Robin, aka Tim, wasn't entirely sure how to go about this at first. Dr Fate had come by saying something about a threat for which they needed the help of 'Chaos' for a change and ranting about how 'Balance' was ignoring him currently because of something that apparently had happened a little while after their last encounter. Now normally this probably wouldn't be to much of a hurdle, if he hadn't tried to be a bit of a smart ass.

Because when he had heard about it Tim in the disguise of paying Dukes school a visit hat looked for Dan Master-Nightingale. Because obviously that was Klarion or rather the current Klarion and the 'Chaos' that could help them out, right? Yeah right...

Before Tim could even approach the other boy the teen had turned around sharply and glared with red eyes at him like he had personally offended him. Which he didn't by the way. Tim was pretty sure he hadn't insulted Klarion errr Dan recently.

"Screw off I got something to do here if we want the next school festival to be a hit. Tell you precious 'Order' to F off unless he apologises to Mom."

That had thrown Tim off a while lot. Because one, that meant Klarion knew who he was behind the Mask too and two, that brat was not going to be helpful or civil with him even out of masks. Not like any of the Klarions every had been but the current one definitely was the rudest among them. But that also meant no help from this agent of 'Chaos'.

Of course Tim wasn't one of the bats and birds for nothing. Bruce had contingency plans for Vlad since he had mentioned his suspicion of the man being like Ra's, so Tim when with the next possible option. If Dr. Fate meant with 'Balance' the Ghost King then they had a way of contacting them. Well not directly them but a contact that could, so he grabbed one of the plans, or part of it at least, and paid a certain millionaire a visit, as Red Robin of course.

It had taken a bit of back and forth, slight arguing in which the man was apparently very insistent in pointing out the time. Which fair it was close to midnight but it was important! In the end Tim had gotten the man to agree to lend them some help but after a phone call that apparently ended with the one on the other side hanging up on Masters themselves the man gave him a peeved look.

"We will have to change plans. Little Badger is not available at the moment and the other kids won't take my calls."

Tim didn't like the sound of that, not because of what Masters sort said about changing plans but the way he used the term 'Little Badger'. For now he would file that back into the back of his mind as his attention went to a map Masters pulled out and spread across his table. The man pointed at a specific place and Tim wanted to face palm. Because of course that man had more connection than just that questionable one between him, the Ghost King and the Klarions.

Masters was pointing at Nanda Parbat.

Good Bruce was going to love this. NOT.

So here he was now Red Robin, dragging a civilian Millionaire and a couple of the Justice League Dark members through the halls of Nanda Parbat as the man directed him where to go while dodging Assassins. For a brief moment he wondered why he hadn't dragged one of his siblings along before he remembered that at least two of them would be grating his nerves even thinner and Batman was busy helping the rest of the JLD containing whatever threat Dr. Fate found until he got the additional help.

A part of him was cursing as he dragged Masters by the cuff of his suit, (who the hell wears a suit when going into an Assassin cult base?!?!), to pull him out of harms way of another trained killer ready to strike the man down. Funnily enough these people all ignored Red Robins presence, like their leader didn't have a sick obsession with him and focused their strikes solely on Masters. That was good and bad, mostly bad but surprisingly the man was somewhat nimble for a civilian. Or there was even more to Masters than they were aware of which Tim also filed way into the back of his mind.

In the end after more or less fighting through half the hide out Masters lead him to a room, that oh great wonder who had thought it, contain the good damn Lazarus Pits! Red Robin wanted to hit that millionaire right now. He wasn't sure how the others present were taking this but he slowly was having enough of that Man.

Red Robin was really contemplating making good on his impulsive thought as a girl in full on cowboy style rose from the Pit waters.

They all, but Masters, blinked at her sudden and dramatic appearance. Masters took a step forward apparently wanting to speak to the girl and Tim only half heartedly because of his sense as hero tried to stop the man.

"Are you done with your cult nonsense, dear little Lassie?"

Red Robin in that moment felt a shiver go down his back when he saw the glare the girl directed at Vlad Masters as well as the room becoming several degrees colder. Mentally, this too, Tim filed back for later.

"No." Red Robin blinked under his mask as the girl snapped with her fingers and the Pit waters around her swirled a green horse appearing out of no where matching her style and he gaped even more the girl unapologetically pointed at Masers who apparently for once got a hint about dodging and ran away as the horse began chasing him.

A part of Red Robin felt like he had to do something to stop this and he caught one of the JLD members with them attempting to step in but the horse completely ignored them. The girl catching his look only waved them off dismissively. "Don't bother. Let Larus have some fun with him, before I sent the entire League after him again for stepping into my turf."

"Isn't Ra's Al Ghul...." He trailed off a little unsure how to proceed here.

"Oh he is sort of the Leader of my merry band of followers of hatred." Red Robin was about to speak again but didn't get a chance as the girl started to ramble on about the logistics of hating someone so much that you raise a cult just for that and the cult just so happens to still have a goal of its own but also are brainwashed to attack on side whenever Vlad Master is involved.

No Red Robin wasn't getting worried. Some of these statements definitely weren't worrying. That the League of Assassins originally was cult to hate just one man in particular was not a shocking revelation. Nor that the Lazarus Pits apparently were alive and also had a hate for Masters. Nor that this girl, Lassie apparently also was a daughter of the Ghost King. And it was definitely not worrying that she apologised for what her cult had done to her family and asked that maybe his older brother should see Vlad Master anytime soon.

Okay everything about that was worrying.

But for now they needed help with a bigger problem. But Red Robin did make a note of breaking back in into Nanda Parbat to have a enlightening talk with Lassie at a later time.

Thankfully after having listened to her rand and mentioning the Ghost King to the girl she did agree to help them. So original goal reached... but several new questions acquired...

[joffyworld]

Happy Joffy Day!

Today marks a day of tremendous change here at JoffyWorld! To start, it's my birthday! I am officially 21, which is apparently a milestone to most people? Weird!

As a celebration, I've got a few things lined up for you all! First and foremost, I will be launching 4, that's right 4, new blogs each with a distinct theme or purpose! I also have what I have coined a "Wall of Mutual Appreciation" which you'll see later in the day, as well as a competition to announce with (albeit sort of small) cash prizes!

So, read on if you're interested!

The New Blogs:

@joffykingdom

This blog exists specifically to house my personal writing! This is where my poems and anthologies (other than my COTL au, more on that later) will be kept from now on! I've realised my poetry has always kind of gotten buried under stuff. Hopefully, this will remedy that! So, if you like my more personal poems, head on over!

@joffycourt

This is the blog I'm most excited about! This is a group project I've been working on for a while with some friends I hold dear! This blog will be a group-run blog designed to spread joy through reblogs, comments and posts just as I do here on JoffyWorld, but on a grander scale! I've seen, and been told personally by many, just how uplifting and helpful my time here has been, and I want to continue that going forward! So, I've gathered some of my most joyful friends, and we've decided to try and spread it even more together! Joining me there so far as the newest Joffy's of the court will be @loullipopx, @bash-js, @yotomazu and @littleperson404! Hopefully, this will only keep growing in time to help me spread the joy I feel from everyone even further! Only time will tell :D

@joffydungeon

This will become the new home for my NSFW reblogs, the more risqué or deranged posts. Basically, in the most simple way, this will be the 18+ blog from now on. Minors DNI, adults more than welcome!

@cult-of-the-anthology

Finally, this blog will be the home of my COTL au and it's respective series! I have plans to do side-by-side series all based within the same au, all told through alternative storytelling such as poetry, songs and whatnot, the type of stuff you've already possibly seen from my au's Ballad of the Bishops Series so far! If you want to keep up with the au, here's the place to do it!

The Wall of Mutual Appreciation:

My aim with this is to help spread one long list of appreciation for all the friends I've made here so far and help spread them with what audience I've collected so far. Each person I'm mutuals with will have a tagged entry into the wall, with a brief explanation of what I find so riveting about their specific artworks and skills! I thought it'd be a fun way to give back a little, and also possibly promote people a tiny bit! Of course, if you're uncomfortable with being on it and see yourself get tagged, let me know and I'll take your name down immediately, no questions asked! It's supposed to be a nice, fun thing, no negativity involved!

And now, the contest!

The Contest:

I will be hosting a writing contest! Cash prizes will be awarded (preferably through Ko-Fi, although PayPal can also be done) to the top three places at the end of the contest! The prizes are: £15 for 1st place, £10 for 2nd and £5 for 3rd, or their local equivalent in your own currencies!

The prompt will be announced by the 15th, and all formats of writing are welcome! I would, however, encourage everyone to try their hand at poetry! I know it's not a popular medium and other forms are welcome of course, but I'd like personally to see people try their hand at something new (and of course, since I'm the poetry guy in my friend groups lmao). I won't however be awarding "bonus points" for poems versus long-form writing for example, all pieces will be judged fairly!

... And that's all!

Thank you so much for everything you've all given me over my time here. It's not even been a year and we're already approaching 300 friends gathered! It's a wonder every day I wake up and talk to you all or even just see what you've been up to. You're all wonderful and I'm honoured to have gotten to know you.

Thank you, you have my endless loyalty, love and support.

Good luck and take care of yourselves,

The Original Joffy™

[annabelle--cane]

What are your opinions on Jonelias, if you have any? Not the community or w/e (although if you have any particularly strong ones, by all means) but the actual ship/dynamic itself

I think there are some somewhat erotic undertones to their relationship in the text, mainly with how elias continually tries to establish greater commonality and intimacy between them by saying he has a window into jon's True Nature and that he knows jon's mind, motivations, and likely future actions better than jon does. the "that's quite nice actually. tingly, but sort of freeing" and "agonized bliss" lines are fairly undeniably pieces of sexualized language, and the way jon kills elias is suuuper charged and is directly paralleled with martin's later explicitly romantic killing of jon.

elias's fatal flaw that he keeps repeating is that he underestimates people and doesn't even bother to use his mind reading powers when he thinks he's got someone sussed out, and with jon this means that he thinks jon's monstrous becoming has been all about him rather than all about the eye, so he thinks jon won't be able to bring himself to actually hurt him. he's right that jon is always a lot more in-tune with beholding than he'd like to consciously believe, but he is dead wrong that jon will ever see the people around him as objects to observe and discard.

elias is remarkably cruel to him; even beside the, yknow, manipulating him into fourteen distinct magical tortures, the way he talks to him in mag 102 is particularly callous, but it doesn't seem like he actually dislikes jon. his tone shifts completely for his mag 160 statement and he's quite transparent that none of what's happened has been jon's fault and it was instead all down to him, so one gets the impression that his s3 era turbo victim blaming was just part of his scheme to drive jon towards avatar encounters. which is kind of nice, if a little insane, though he does keep up the "we're not so different, you and I" thing up through his last appearance. I think he really believes that jon will eventually come around and see what he did was great, but alas, he doesn't realize that jon is hopelessly down bad for a shitty poet who smells like a beach and has callouses on his hands from his favorite tea mug.

for something community related, I always found it kind of funny that the 2020 tumblr teens were super hard set against jonelias, if you kudos'ed the wrong fic you'd end up on a blocklist, but the 2020 tiktok teens loved it. couldn't get enough. they were making lore-intensive vaguely gothic cult aus. every hannigram cosplayer duo doubled for jonelias and barely had to change a thing.