#sinninggod

[motherednature]

@sinninggod​ asked: ❝ you have great eyes. they’re proud and wild…like a feral beast. ❞

      those proud, wild eyes open slowly to gaze at her baby, like those of a large cat dozing in sunlight as its young swipe at her tail. just as slowly, a grin pulls at her mouth. ‘ thank you, beastie, ’ she purrs. ‘ but i will still not go with you to the human establishment you call mcdonald’s. ’

the legend of zelda starters // accepting!

[abjecterrora]

@sinninggod​: they're laying on her stove. it doesn't /seem/ like it's on. ' you look really pretty today. ' / random asks, always accepting.

a face that isn’t new--something old, plucked from their rolodex of disguises--sits snugly into their skin, tegan’s nails plucking at the tightness at their cheeks.  really, there was no reason to pull it out, but, like an old dress hidden in the back of your closet you don’t remember buying, they wanted to try it back on.  they’d never go out with it on (it just doesn’t fit this era!).

but that doesn’t matter.  they’re staring at a god who, out of every couch tegan owns, decided to rest on their stove.  they really will never understand dio, will they?  “only today.  a shame.”  it’s faux hurt, turned on to the max.  they could almost cry--acting, of course.  “i expected a better compliment.”

[glacierfront]

don't ask how the cat got in. they're sitting in the middle of her bed, obviously having been woken from a nap. their meow could be in protest to being woken, or a greeting. 😘

       She can’t help staring. Because – she knows that cat. But – she shouldn’t? Because this isn’t the same place? And like… not even close to being in the same city?

       Maybe they’re not the same cat?

      But they are.

      Right?

      “Aren’t you…” Squinting down at them, she thinks about holding out her hand, then doesn’t. “Like… A New York cat?”

[solichor-a]

@sinninggod.

     just fucking shrieks, yeah.

[thrownsoul]

as per her several requests over the years, they’ve toned down the celebration. barely. this time, they’ve hired a group of colorful singing birds, and, following dio’s conducting, all sing happy birthday in perfect unison and pitch, though lacking the actual words. a cake that they learned to bake specifically for the event sits in the kitchen, their handwriting not the best in the first place, let alone frosting. ‘ happy birthday. ‘

@sinninggod.

  Alice blinks at the birds for a long moment, not sure whether to try harder to ignore them or not to laugh. It wouldn’t be an awful thing for her to laugh, she eventually decides. Grabbing Dio’s hand as she passes by them, the places her free hand flat on the table and, on tiptoe, leans over the cake. It’s — not readable, but she wouldn’t dream of making fun of the effort, and anyway, she has context clues.

     “So you bake now,”   she saids, bumping into their hip with hers. Not making fun! But teasing? Always. Especially when they’re giving her a lot of attention.   “That’s a thing you do. You’re a god of baking. And birthdays. And beeeeeing. Very sweet.”

[riftbledarchive]

@sinninggod.

     sera stares at them silently and rattles a jar of bees.

[irresurrection]

@sinninggod.

  Nott’s normally large eyes narrow to slits as she watches her friend’s familiar wind his spotted body around Dionysus’ feet, purring for attention. Frumpkin isn’t an ordinary animal just anyone can charm --- she knows this, despite Caleb’s insistence on treating his familiar as a pet. She also suspects he prefers a feline vessel, though. And felines seem to prefer Dionysus to anyone else.

  She hasn’t known them for very long. But as a detective, she has come to certain conclusions.

     “So you’re like... a god of cats? A god that cats worship?”

[inaday]

@sinninggod.

     ‘ this -- ’ there’s a single-handed gesture toward the glass in her hand. ( the glass she shouldn’t have accepted. the house she shouldn’t have stepped into. the accord she should not have created -- ) she’d be signing if it weren’t for that full hand. 

     ‘ don’t -- don’t get -- used to it. ’ 

[cardiomnis]

“Your pulse is racing.” to astin 😊

Pulse Meme

    “What the fuck? No. No. No. No. No.” Astin shucked off their jacket at full speed, throwing it to the ground and rolling up their sleeves. It felt like pure fire was rushing through their veins, clinging to every inch of skin and incinerating everything in its path. Their veins began to glow, beginning with a soft, baby blue light that grew brighter and brighter with each passing moment. At first, the light felt fulfilling. It felt right.

    But it just got worse.

    “What the fuck?! What the fuck?!” The power only grew stronger until it became painful, splitting into each nerve and muscle. And one muscle it seemed intent on overtaking was their heart. Snaking around their heart, it began to coil closer and closer to them and it felt so tight and painful and they couldn’t breathe and their pulse was racing and they were in pain and everything hurt and--

    And then there was nothing. No pain. Nothing at all. Numbness. They could see nothing. They could feel nothing. They were null.

    Unbeknownst to them, with each blink of their eyes, something came over them. Slowly, but surely, those brown eyes were flooded by darkness. And in the darkness, there was light. Stars began to appear in their eyes, like a cat’s eyes in the darkness, colorful and haunting. And a cat’s eye they seemed to get closer and closer to. Even as Astin was wrapped up in a soothing blanket of spiritual novocaine, the resounding cracks of bones reshaping and snaps of muscles reforming filled the room.

    Steadily, the painter was replaced in the room. The wood of their penthouse floor creaked under the shift in weight. Two points of pressure shifted into four, supporting a greater creature. Two, bright, glowing eyes that hid the secrets of the universe opened up. And then three. Then four. Then five. Two eyes on each side of the head, and one resting on their forehead. A distinctly leonine silhouette began to form, built like a lioness, but with a short, choppy mane sprinkled with stardust. But at times, the silhouette seemed to melt and drift away, not a solid form in the slightest.

    Their fur was a sleek black, and yet the patterns on it constantly seemed to shift. Red giants, blue galaxies, The Pillars of Creation, black holes, supernovas, and so much more kept moving across the being’s pelt. Their tail swished side to side as they stared up at Dionysus, and when their mouth opened, something short of celestial tar dripped from their fangs, a universal venom of sorts.

    From the monster, from Astin’s mind, came a weary, garbled voice. They echoed back the last thing they heard, which was true for the Deity at this point in time too... ‘Your pulse is racing.’

[lichestr]

@sinninggod.

    ‘ hey. ’ 

     li’s legs are dangling from her spot on their kitchen counter, ankles crossed neatly. ‘ does the house read minds? ’ context: fifteen minutes ago, she had been craving frozen sweet cream. we’ll give you two guesses as to what she’d found in the freezer, tub turning her thighs cold from where she has it balanced atop her lap.

[fazyluny]

@sinninggod liked ( x ). 

          “  hey,  you got a cigarette?  just...  need some focus.  “ 

[motherednature]

hey mom can i have the stale cookies in your cabinet

         THE EARTH RECOGNIZES her child immediately, even before they speak -- the extended time and the aching memory surge within her like high tide, but her features remain inscrutable save for the slight widening of her eyes. her baby, her cub, alive? she remembers them, frail and weak and young in her arms, and though dionysus is clearly capable of fending for themselves in their grown power, each time they are away, a mother worries.

         she doesn’t answer them. she makes long strides in their direction with no fanfare other than the heavy steps of her boots, and collects the young god into her arms. and her embrace is tight with emotion, with the strength of mountains and oceans protecting this child.

                                                         ‘ -- you’re home. ’

[abjecterrora]

@sinninggod​ sent: slithers up. (not as a snake) ' hey. ' they wait until tegan's looking at them. ' wanna cuddle. ' / random asks, accepting.

       “what makes you think i’m the cuddling type.”  tegan’s big!  they’re strange and off-putting!  they shouldn’t be the type of creature that wants to be cuddled.  it’s a good thing they crave the touch of other people (it’s their one weakness--without it, they’d be unstoppable).  the corner of their lips twitch, a version of a smile.  “but.  yes.  i do.  missed you, you bitch.”  they mean that lovingly.

[glacierfront]

headbutts her cheek and meows loudly.

     “what.”

     it’s something short and bland, and a little bit on the nasal side. whaaaaat. julie’s head shifts when they headbutt her, and she tilts her chin up so that this cat can fucking. let her play her dang game.

     (that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like it though.)

     the moment she has a breather in the game, she swivels to stare them in the eye, kitty-nose to human-nose. “i’m busy.”

[solichor-a]

@sinninggod. re: this post, since you liked the photo set. :^)

     ‘ i’m on the fucking toilet, dude, what. ’ 

[bestvictima]

🤝 TEGAN AND DIO

→ send in 🤝 + a friendship and i’ll tell you who:., not accepting.

texts the other memes at 3 am: who needs text messages when you can just show up at each other’s homes and annoy the shit out of them in person?

tries to convince the other to do an idea that definitely sounds questionable: the only answer (the only true one) is both.  they’re both terrible.  why are they friends?

is the designated driver and who always gets wasted: i want to say tegan’s the dd.  it’s hard for them to get drunk, so that’s the only choice, really.

always has to host the impromptu sleepover: tegan does.  it’s not a problem, though.

who’s netflix account gets mooched off of: again, tegan, but they’re not sure dio owns a tv, so they don’t mind.  movie nights are fun!

brings all the snacks and who supplies the movie: ah, that depends.  i feel like tegan and dio switch off each day.  if one does snacks one day, then they’ll do the movie next and vice versa.

is usually the first one to say sorry after a fight: i don’t think they’ve fought yet-- and why would they?  they both have that heavy chaotic energy that vibes well together.

is the ‘ mom friend ‘: tegan!  they’re definitely a mom friend.

calls the other at 12 am to wish the other a happy birthday without fail: do either of these harbingers of chaos have actual birthdays?

is the better wingman to the other: dio, most likely.  they’re just that good at it.

‘ the strong must protect the sweet ‘ , who’s the ‘ strong ‘ and who’s the ‘ sweet ‘: both can be strong and sweet when the situation calls for it.

pulls the other up for karaoke to sing a duet together: dio, hands down.