#the bearer of the slit!!!

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Alucard x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: vampires, blood, periods, smut – cunnilingus during a period, vaginal sex (doggy), creampie

Author’s Note: I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, thanks for all those who encouraged me by saying they'd read this hehe. Enjoy! Divider by @/ohmarigold!

It’s been a little less than a month since you waltzed into the desolate castle nearly ten miles from your hometown. You’ve heard the rumors about it through whispers on the streets and drunken confessions at the bar. It’s Dracula’s estate, the bearer of demons and disaster, though he has since perished. It’s been told that the deed was done at the hands of his own son, Adrian Tepes, better known as Alucard. Surely, you had to check this out for yourself to see if the legend stands true.

What you didn’t predict was falling for the allusive charm of the son of Dracula. That you’d be living here as a permanent resident and take the role as Alucard’s forever human plaything. And that you love it. You love him. In the span of a few short weeks, you’ve completely abandoned your mundane life to share your exciting future with this dhampir. It really is something out of legends.  

Tonight, you lie in bed with him, snuggled close to his body. His breath tickles you, his fangs barely grazing skin as he presses delicate kisses along your neck. You giggle, running your hand through his silky hair, tugging him back to kiss him on the mouth. “Adrian,” you whisper, sucking on his bottom lip.

His fingers are nimble on your thighs, inching their way closer and closer to your arousal until you grab at his wrist, stopping him. He looks at you, confused. “What is it, darling?” 

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, turning your head the other direction to avoid his brilliant gaze on you. “I’m bleeding,” you answer meekly.

“Bleeding?” 

You nod, confirming it, still too shy to look him in the eyes. He contemplates for a few seconds, understanding what you’re trying to say to him. Then, he laughs softly, giving you a delicate smooch on the cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. You think that’s going to stop me?” He nuzzles your ear, voice low and sultry. “I’m even hungrier for it now.”

Your cheeks burn, simultaneously flustered and aroused as he quickly positions himself between your legs, his golden eyes burning into yours, full of lust and desire. He tugs at your undergarments, already a dark spot of crimson leaking through it. Without hesitation, he sticks his tongue out, lapping at it for a taste before puckering his lips to suck on the damp fabric. He hums, delighting in the taste of you, of your blood. The mere thought of it makes you dizzy but seeing him smirk at you with your ruined panties between his lips has you aching. “Touch me, Adrian,” you beg, voice trembling. 

He pulls your underwear down your legs, breath warm on your loins as he speaks. “Touch you how, sweetheart?” He knows exactly what you want, but he’s going to torment you just a bit for almost denying him this pleasure. “Like this?” He licks a stripe on your clit, causing you to squirm from the sudden contact. 

“Yes, Adrian, fuck!” you cry out, your shout echoing from the high ceilings of his bedroom.

“You want me to taste you, is that right?” he taunts, giving you another stroke of his tongue, this time slower and more deliberate.

You nod frantically, clutching the sheets beneath you. He smiles, kissing the plush of your thigh, relenting his cruel teasing. “Of course, my love. I’ll give you whatever it is that you want.” He slides down, his mouth at your wet cunt, glistening with fresh blood and arousal. He licks his lips, ready to indulge in this fine meal you’ve laid before him. 

His thumb rests on your throbbing clit, massaging deep circles into it while he laps at your slit, consuming every single drop of you. Soon, his lips are smeared rouge, his fangs stained red, his pristine skin blushing scarlet, completely enthralled in devouring you. He bucks his hips against the bed, desperate for friction on his hardening cock. A guttural moan emits from his throat as he fucks you into an orgasm with his tongue and fingers, eager to drink all of your juices up. 

“You taste divine,” he purrs. “May I keep going?”

And who are you to deny a vampire of their deepest desires? You give him a weak nod, spreading your legs wider, body already quivering from ecstasy. He pleasures you into three more orgasms until your brain is mush and your limbs are limp against the sheets. Finally, he finishes inside you, taking you from behind, fucking his seed deep into your womb. He watches with a wanton gaze as he pulls out, cock dripping with your combined mess. 

Alucard really is a legend, and you’re more than happy to have found that out for yourself. 

[animaraptor]

Old anatomy study about Cablesupplies aliens who evolved from "squids" animals

Also 3d variant:

"The skull of Cablesupplies is very different from the skulls of terrestrial vertebrates. Consisting of calcified chitin, it consists of almost identical upper and lower parts, two mandibles and thin pedipalps. Let's look at each of them separately.

The head consists of 4 plates, previously forming a carapace around the head. Each of them carries one eye socket and one large fenestra. The eyes at the top are fully functional, whereas the eyeballs at the bottom only help to swallow food, as is the case with terrestrial frogs. Also on the upper plates in front there are nasal passages leading air from the upper mandible to the lungs of the trunk. Moreover, the nasal passages do not intersect with the esophagus and mouth, which is why Cablesupply  can eat and breathe at the same time.

In the middle, the plates are connected by bone tissue, in which there is a bed for tissues and joints of the pedipalps. Along the edge of the plate and the bed there are ridges, to which most of the muscles of the jaws, pedipalps and necks cling.

There is no usual mouth in front of the skull - just a simple hole. It is the bone-limited size of the pharynx and oral cavity that causes Sabre-bearers to chop their prey into small pieces with the help of oral appendages and middle limbs. However, Sablenos still have full lips. this allows them not to choke on water hunting and dig the ground without eating it.

The mandibles of the Cablesupply are made of pure chitin and have notches exactly in the center. Rows of notches can be either 1 or as many as 5. At the end of both mandibles there are special movable beak-like hooks, however, in many species it is either lost or replaces the mandibles themselves. There are several nostrils on the upper mandible - one is the main one, and the others are "corrugated" slits like gills, on which olfactory receptors are abundant. These gills can work in isolation from the main nasal passage, which is why they remain functional under water. Pedipalps help Cablesupply to push food into their mouths. They consist of 3 fragments, being modified plates, mandibles and hooks. In some species, pedipalps become claws, in others they become analogous to antennas or murderous weapons. This is the most mobile part of the skull of the Saber Bearers.

Since Cablesupply do not have a spine, their neck consists of 2 bones, similar in structure to a human arm. On top of the bone is the spinal cord and trachea, and along the bottom is the esophagus. The former are protected by a special capsule of connective tissue, a layer of adipose tissue, muscles (not shown) and an analog of osteoderms."

[grimst4rs]

“Sirius should be, out of the two of them, the one who joins his ranks.” Orion Black’s voice echoed down the hall, as he stepped down the long corridor.

“Categorically no.” Walburga Black snapped.

“It’s the Dark Lord’s wish. He believes Sirius would be an asset to them.”

“Considering the possibility that he does join, which he will not, because I will not allow it, if he dies, what will we do? Make Regulus the heir?”

“Precisely. He would be the better heir, either way; he’s much more obedient and malleable.”

“However obedient he is, Sirius possesses the qualities a heir to our house needs; determination, resilience, strength and intelligence, above all, which would make him the suitable candidate.”

“Are you implying that Regulus is not appropriate enough for the role, Walburga?”

“I am implying Regulus resembles you entirely, Orion,” She hissed.

Sirius attentively listened to his parents’ conversation from the tapestry room. His eyes were fixated on the wall, his gold-woven ancestors looking at him from the tapestry. He rolled his eyes. His previous namesake scolded him.

“That is not the appropriate behaviour for a bearer of our noble name,” He said, tutting.

Sirius got up from the dark, velvety cushion and pulled the curtains over his great-grandfather’s portrait, who let out an indignant noise.

His parents entered the room. His father had walked in first — he was a tall, slender man, with black hair down to his ears, and he was dressed as if he was about to leave the house. Sirius’ mother stood behind him, a willowy woman with pale skin and long, straight black hair, falling down her back. Her neck was adorned with her necklace with the family crest, and the skirt of her dress brushed the dark, polished floor.

“What are you doing here, boy?” Orion demanded.

“Observing,” He answered, standing up and making his way to the tapestry. “Am I not allowed to do that now, either?”

“Your brother announced us that you snuck out of the house last night and ventured out to Muggle London.” His mother’s voice was cold, yet she was no longer intimidating to Sirius; even on her heels, he was quite taller than him. “Is that so?”

“No.” Sirius lied through his teeth. “And even if I did, Regulus has the habit of not minding his own business. Maybe you should teach him that, father, since you mind your business so much you’re not often around.”

Sirius and Orion shot each other poisonous glares. He stood about five centimetres taller than his father, yet their eyes met with the same raging fury.

“You insolent—”

“Orion, I thought you said you had to meet Abraxas Malfoy,” Walburga sighed.

His eyes turned into slits. “We will have an important conversation later. I expect you to be home, not anywhere else, by the time I return from the Ministry.”

Sirius nodded, as his father left the room. His mother’s eyes lingered in the tapestry, right where her family’s names were; Walburga, Orion, Sirius, Regulus. Stars and saints.

All sinners.

[candyswirls]

Bat Fledgling - Part 1

Fanfic MasterPost - Next

One shot of this story

This is about Corvus Corax finding Kiri, a young Nostramon child who was started on the neophyte process at an early age.

Synopsis: Corvus finds a child on a word bearer ship.

Warnings: mentions of blood, child abuse and abandonment

He had been planning this mission for YEARS and it had taken MONTHS to enact it.

The few members of his little band counted on him. They believed in him. He was the key to the whole operation. Everything was now left up to him.

Yet here he was, throwing it all away.

He crouched as he listened to the exchange.

“How old is he now?” One of the emperors children asked, an emissary of the mad apothecary, Fabius Bile.

“Barely nine,” a word bearer said. “He’s been in the process for three years. Due to his youth and size it has been slow. Others like him died quickly.”

Another son of Fulgrim studied the boy, “And you’re sure no one will miss him or try to attack us?”

The word bearer nodded, “The Night Haunter gave him to us personally. Told the boy right to his face that he didn’t care for him or want him. He’s only been awoken to have surgeries and heal. He’s very emotional and prone to tears. A sweet kid. Too soft right now though.”

“A Night Lord?” The Emperor’s children scoffed. “Sweet and soft?”

“He was not given the conditioning that Night Lords regularly did with their neophytes,” the word bearer replied. “First few surgeries were experiments within his chapter. We’ve had him for the rest.”

The boy they spoke of just stood there, crying and trembling, refusing to look up or let go of the word bearers tunic.

Corvus bristled. They spoke of him as if he wasn’t there. As if the boy couldn’t understand what they said.

Pale skin, black hair, fully black eyes. He would have guessed him to be from his home planet were it not for the sharp teeth and warp mutated ears.

Yet when he first saw him he couldn’t decide if he looked more like him or his brother Konrad. He knew he wasn’t the only one to notice that had they received the same upbringing they’d have been starkly similar.

This boy, he looked like them had they been raised on good worlds with devoting parents. An anomaly on Nostramo.

The first emperors child stepped forward, “Let me see him.”

The word bearer shoved the boy forward.

His shirt was too big for him and hung off his shoulder. The scars from geneseed surgeries were stark against his skin.

He trembled as the emperors child lifted his chin and inspected him. He moved his arms and poked at his flesh

The Astartes hummed, “Yes, Master Bile will have use of him. Help him to further his experiments. Load him into the cryochamber, we leave in four standard hours.”

The boy let out a sob and ran back to the Word Bearer.

He cried and begged, “No! Don’t send me away! I’ll be good! I can! I promise! Please! Becton! I don’t want to go with them! Please! Just let me stay!”

Corvus’s two hearts pounded. He had to wait. There’d be too much crossfire.

The word bearer spun the boy around, “We don’t want you anymore. You’re going with them. Now come on.”

The boy let out a sob as he was shoved towards the cryochamber.

He was strapped down and before the sedative took effect he choked out, “Don’t send me away… don’t abandon me… please… keep… me…”

Corvus’s hearts swelled as he felt along with the boy those exact feelings. Remembering being so small and terrified. Begging Father to save him and his brothers.

The boy cried till he was unconcious. The chamber sealed and he was in stasis. Frozen tears covered his cheeks.

The emperors children envoy left and others went to continue their duties. It was just one word bearer, Becton, left in the room.

Corvus dropped down and slit his throat.

He hit the controls on the cryochamber to reverse it. Waking someone took longer than freezing.

His hands itched with anticipation. Then the first boom came. His explosives were going off. He was supposed to be off the ship by now.

“Come on, come on,” he hissed.

There was yelling and shouting.

“The Raven Lord!” A voice shouted.

He spun around and shot the astartes in the head. More explosions went off, closer than before.

He didn’t have time!

It was risky and dangerous but slammed his fist into the cryochamber. An alert went off as mist hissed out. He tore the restraints and pulled the boy in his arms. He was frozen stiff.

Corvus whirled around and leapt upward to the vent he had entered.

There was no time for stealth as he clambered through.

Bullets began reigning from below.

He threw himself on his back to protect the boy and slid himself forward. He hissed as his armor was dented. He slid himself to where the airlock vent was.

He slammed into it and flew out into the warp.

In an arch he furled his wings back towards the land mass.

He rolled his landing then dove into the thicket, running deeper and deeper into the shifting forest.

He leapt over a ravine and then hid in a glade just beyond.

The boy was still freezing and unconscious. He held him close to his chest and began rubbing his arms, back, and legs. Friction caused heat. He needed to warm him up.

He ended up closing his beak around his head and breathing hot air into him.

He shoved him into his chest and wrapped his feather around him, blowing more hot air into him as he stood. They needed to keep moving.

Blood trickled from the boys mouth. Hope filled Corvus. That meant there was movement within. His heart was beating and not all was frozen.

Slowly, the boy’s chest rose and then fell. Relief rested on Corvus’ shoulders. They needed to find his warriors.

[reverencedflower]

! A video has been posted.

A man dressed in white with a turquoise bowl-cut is at the shrine. Tatsu is clearly eyeing him with suspicion, but gives a bow in greeting regardless.

"Welcome to the Celestic Shrine."

"And...what are you supposed to be?"

"...The priest, sir."

"And does THAT have cultural significance to it?"

The stranger points at Tatsu's tail. Tatsu visibly deflates, grip tightening on the gohei in his hands.

"Do you have business here, sir?"

"Whatever. I'm not here to cause trouble, I just thought I'd share my opinion. Don't you think it's kind of a waste of time what you're doing here?"

Tatsu turns toward the shrine, gently setting his gohei atop the donation box out front. "I could ask you the same thing."

"How tolerant of you. There's a lot of great things in the modern world, you know. You don't need to keep chaining yourself down with blind faith in some being that might not even exist. You should try opening your mind."

Tatsu pulls a small cloth from within his sleeve, removing his glasses and holding them up to the light so that he can clean them. The light shifts over his eyes. His pupils seem a deeper blue, and lengthened like slits. His irises almost seem to glow., a pink shimmer over the azure.

"Well, I want to stick to my faith."

"Poor girl."

He visibly tenses. "Excuse me?"

"It always hurts to see someone so caught up in a cult that they don't even know they're being victimized. I can't imagine what they must have done to you."

Tatsu, gingerly tucking his glasses into the collar of his clothes, turns to face the stranger again, stepping forward with graceful fury.

"I am a man. And I think you need to leave."

The bearer of the bowl-cut holds up a hand as if to halt him.

"Hold on now, why are you being so defensive? I'm only trying to save you. You're a victim here, and I'm trying to help you see past all this...primitive dogma you have going on."

He cracks a slight smirk.

"And you could've fooled me."

Tatsu tightens a fist. He deepens his voice, attempting to speak with authority.

"I will tell you one more time. You stand on sacred ground. Leave."

"What, am I not allowed to voice my opinion? That's the thing with these cults, anyone who questions them is just an 'outsider' who must be shunned. But I get it, I understand. You're just a confused little girl who only knows what the grown-ups have told you. I can help you. Really."

The blue-haired one reaches out, and puts a hand on Tatsu's shoulder.

Tatsu's slitted pupils narrow. Sharp teeth grit together. His face is lowered, bangs obscuring his eyes.

"Sorry."

"That's a good girl. So why don't you--"

"Rin."

With a chanted syllable and a flash of azure from his eyes, Tatsu's hands clutch the arm of the offender like a thorned vine.

"Wh-"

"Pyo."

There isn't enough time to speak, nor to breathe. Another syllable. The chant continues, in a soft, measured tone. A wooden sandal sweeps the man's leg from beneath him.

"To."

A sharp yank on the arm sends him forward...

"Sha."

And an open-palm strike to the chest forces him to double over, a groan escaping his lips. He wheezes out an attempt at words.

"Look, y-"

No.

"Kai."

He is silenced by a half-turn sending the elbow of Tatsu's free arm into his stomach.

"Jin."

Tatsu's grip grows ever tighter on that arm...

"Retsu."

And he is lifted up, over Tatsu's back, and tossed unceremoniously to the ground at his feet.

Dazed, he tries to scramble to his feet, to escape, and for a moment, it seems as if Tatsu is allowing him...

"Zai."

After a pause, the glow from Tatsu's eyes erupts into a flash of violet. The distance closes with uncanny speed...

"...ZEN!"

...And a hand bathed in violet flame delivers another open-palm strike to the back of his head.

The stranger falls to the ground unconscious as Tatsu stands above him, breathing heavily with hand still outstretched. A paper talisman of some sort has been stuck to the stranger's head.

"Akuryo taisan. (Evil spirits begone.)"

The remainder of the video involves Tatsu performing several cleansing rituals on the area in which the man's unconscious body lies, Tatsu muttering under his breath from time to time.

"I thought I took care of all these zealots..."

Eventually, he remembers about the recording, and shuts the camera off.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Toji x Sukuna

⚠️ Warning for mentions of incest (the Zenin family tree) and abortion (Kenjaku)

Sukuna was walking down the alley, looking for his next meal when he noticed something stirring. "Is that a homeless man? I was hoping for something more appetizing but I suppose I shall have to make do." This would not be the first time Uraume had cooked what was essentially the human equivalent of "roadkill". Sukuna went to poke the man with one of his four hands and then pulled back. "He slimed me? What the hell!?"

He then used one of his fingers as a match to get a better view. "WHY IS THIS FOOL SLEEPING INSIDE OF A CURSE!?" Just before he could react, Sukuna recieved a whack to the face. "Would you mind keeping it down? My hangover is killing me..."

"EXCUSE ME!?"

"You heard me! Now move out of the way before I puke!" The homeless man then swung his weapon again but Sukuna grabbed it with ease and destroyed it. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO I AM HUMAN!?"

"Am I supposed to? -hiccup- Now if you don't mind me, I'm going back to bed. I've had nothing but shitty luck today and not only have I failed to kill off that Gojo kid, I also need to replace that weapon I stole off my... cousin? I don't know, it's complicated-"

"What did you say!?"

"My family tree is kinda complicated. There's a bunch of inces-"

"NOT THAT! That thing you said about Gojo!"

"You mean the white haired brat?"

"How is it that someone as powerful as yourself isn't high ranking in the jujutsu society?"

"I don't have cursed energy so I was an unwanted child- Hey, put me down! What do you think you're doing!?"

"Marrying you, what else does it look like?"

"I need someone to babysit my son. Oh wait, Gojo adopted him..."

"I'll get you visitation rights as a wedding gift. Don't worry, I can be very persuasive..."

_____

After numerous threats that shall remain unknown, Gojo relented and let Toji see Megumi on weekends which was great for him since he was a deadbeat dad and didn't need to put in that much effort. Megumi was the ring bearer while Yuji was the flower girl, much to Sukuna's amusement. Tsumiki was sadly forgotten about and left alone at home while the wedding proceeded.

The only other wedding guests were Kong Shiu (who had to be paid to be there) and Itadori Jin and his wife Kaori, with Uraume serving as the priest. Toji immediately noticed there was something odd about his sister in law. Not only did she have a giant head wound but she kept muttering to herself about how she was glad she didn't need to have her 10th abortion. Yeah, he was making sure Megumi never went near her.

Toji looked himself over in the mirror. His wedding dress exposed most of his cleavage and cut off around his upper thighs with a slit down the side. Attached to his legs were heels with fishnet stockings and a gun holstered to his garters. He somehow looked like a even more slutty Ada Wong. "I guess it's time to serve some cunt!" Toji opened the doors and was about to walk down the runway Bayonetta style when he noticed something was wrong.

"WHY ARE YOU IN A DRESS!? ARE YOU TRYING TO UPSTAGE ME!?" An awkward cough then filled the silence.

"It's actually a tradionally kimono from the Heian era... Don't pin this on me! Kaori was the one in charge of the outfits!"

Well that explained something. "Honey, how did this happen?"

"It's not my fault pookie. Toji never responded to my text!"

"What did it say?"

"I just asked him if he's a top or a bottom?"

"What's a bottom?"

"I don't like bottoms because I like to sleep on the top of the bunk beds!"

"Hush Yuji!"

Uraume then cut in. "AHEM! Now if we may move along. Clearly some of us are on a time budget and must hurry to prepare the after party dinner. By the way Jin, I couldn't prepare a vegetarian meal but I did find a man who was a vegetarian."

"What are they talking about brother?"

"Nothing important... just stick to the salad."

_____

"You may now kiss the... bride? Groom...- To hell with this! I'm going to prepare dinner!"

"I know our honey moon is coming up but I'm still going to need to charge you for it."

Sukuna raised a brow. "You charge people money to recite poetry?"

"Poetry? What the hell are you talking about!?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Toji clearly didn't understand what Sukuna was trying to say.

"Back in my day, haikus were apart of the courting process..."

"Tonight we're going over some history books. You need to update your rizz old man."

"What is that supposed to mean!?"

"Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

My dick is now flaccid,

And it's all because of you"

"Has anyone ever told you how bad your poetry is Toji?"

"...Megumi did once..." 

[kedicatt-cotl]

How did Aym get his eye scar?

As funny as it is, Aym didn't get his eye scar protecting Narinder in a battle.

Life in the Gateway was actually quite boring, the only visitors being the Red Crown bearers that Narinder would summon every once in a while. Many, many crown bearers, but none of them would dare to speak a word against The One Who Waits, let alone get in a fight with a being so powerful.

In reality, Aym scarred his eye and ear when he was still alive, just a little kitten playing outside. One wrong step and he trips and fall, rolling down the slope, against the floor of moss, sharp twigs and stones. He tried to cover his face, but it didn't help much. In just a couple of seconds his ear and then his face got scarred for the rest of his life. Maybe he shouldn't have jumped around there to prove that he isn't afraid of heights.

Forneus knew a thing or two about healing. She took care of the wounds to make sure they won't get infected, but unfortunately it was impossible to save the eye. Over a few months, Aym lost his eyesight almost completely in his right eye. He managed to find the positive side in all this - if he pretends that it's a battle scar, everyone will think that he is a brave fighter... before he even learned how to fight!

Upon serving The One Who Waits, he's gotten a chance to have his eyesight back.

“I will restore your vision”, The One Who Waits said, touching Aym's head with his sticky clawed hand, “as much as my weakened power allows me to”.

It didn't work out perfectly. Aym's blank pupil turned into a red slit pupil. Some of his vision did return, but it remained very blurry.

Once resurrected in the Lamb's cult, his eye has changed once again. The vision didn't improve a bit, but now the eye looks like the healthy one, the only difference being that it's pupil is constantly constricted.

That isn't the only thing that's new, though. Now Aym has a real battle scar - his left ear was torn in the final battle with Lamb.

[purgefluidz]

WHO REMEMBERS BEARER OF THE SLIT

[gold-rhine]

Event where diluc wear a silk red dress

So the red silk dress is technically much more thematically appropriate for diluc than manga fontaine skin for ayaka, in this essay i will explain.

ok so. Diluc learns of the secret fatui hideout and they are having some nefarious plans, and specifically there's like some ancient fatui witch who will pass some incredibly important secrets, but only to the "Heir of the Crimson Witch". and Diluc's butler is like i'm sorry Master, my sources say it's supposed to be a redhaired witch in a bright scarlet dress, so i don't how we can POSSIBLY inflitrate...

diluc tells traveler to go to the secret club and wait for him anyway. it's underground, it's sleazy and mysterious and full of smoke and flickering lights. traveler and paimon are being interrogated at the entrance, fumbling and trying to get in, when the tango Roxane starts and Diluc shows up. He has his hair up in an elaborate hairdo with like a braid and a twist and he's wearing a slinky red silk dress. it goes to the floor, has an open back and a slit from the thigh down, showing that leather garter he wears in all of his outfits. it looks bomb. he has some pssword for the entrance, but they let him in before he can even s it

when they get to the ancient witch and she immediately calls Diluc's bluff. She says she knows he's not fatui, and he prepares for a fight, but she just laughs. She says she never said she wanted to give secret to fatui, she wanted Heir for Signora and for that, Diluc fits perfectly. He says she's insane, but she laughs again. Wasn't he, like Signora, betrayed and abandoned in an hour of losing a loved one by the Mond's authorities, wasn't he disappointed in them so much that he decided to take matters into his own hands, didn't he swear to find power to make things right no matter the cost? He is her rightful heir, and so he deserves to learn the secret of her power

Diluc angrily says that he gave up on the false promises of fatui's delusions, but the old hag tsks, the magic of the Crimson Witch is no delusion, you young fool. Signora only used cryo delusion and it was to HIDE her true power. This magic will turn you into a self-immolating, unceasing flame, the ever-burning phoenix you were always meant to be. Diluc hesitates for a second, then meets traveler's concerned eyes, shakes his head and refuses, but the witch laughs again as they leave. this power is already yours, was yours before you came here, and one day you will stop pretending that it's not.

i think it'd be really cool to explore parallels between signora and diluc's storylines, and diluc's theme of heir - "spiritual heir" to the crimson witch who turned into a living flame to purge the evil, and heir to his father - both as a scion of ragnivdyr clan AND as a bearer of his father's delusion, and explore diluc navigating this conflict between identitis and conflict between his desire for justice and power to bring said justice, and the dangerous walk over the edge of the falling to the dark side that he's walking

[leon-swedfinqs]

Good Omens D&D AU Master Post - Character Breakdown

Aziraphale (Alias: Ezra P. Fell)

Human Cleric

Aziraphale grew up in what is essentially a religious cult that worships the goddess Ecliel, the goddess that birthed the universe and brought life to earth. She is the original bringer, the original light. The church believes that humans are part of her original creation, a world of everything pure. Magic is seen as supplementary, or impure, as it goes against the original plan of the universe that Ecliel created since it can be used to manipulate and change it. Members of this church are marked by their halos, an object imbued with a charm to make them impossible to remove without a magic source more powerful than its creation. It emits a constant soft glow. Aziraphale has an innate sense of magic, which is fueled by his pure faith in Ecliel and the life she brings. He hid his magic, using it sparingly in his youth. As he got older, it became harder and harder to contain his magic and hide his spells, due to the fact that they would occasionally produce residuum, and he was forced to hide it in the storage rooms of the church. Once the older bishops found the residuum, they did a sweep to find the magic user to dispose of them. Due to his nervousness, his fellow brother Gabriel became suspicious of him and lashed out with his sword demanding a duel to test his faith and loyalty. Under the pressure and fear, Aziraphale’s sword ignited in holy flame, giving him an opening to escape and run away from the church and go into hiding. He became a wandering low level cleric, struggling to learn spells on his own and make money, before he struck immense luck landing a high paying job. However, it came with a price: a partner he had to collaborate with.

Anthony J. Crowley (Previously known as Raphael)

Tiefling Rogue

Anthony, back when she went by Raphael, was a top student at an exclusive arcane academy. This academy specialized in the sacred art of zodiac elemental magic. There are those born with an innate connection to a particular zodiac, and those with this connection can utilize the constellation’s power to cast spells that mix traditional arcane magic with the elements. Raphael had an innate connection to the fire signs, and spent years studying the stars and practicing spells. She noticed, however, that her power fluctuations ran off of a different calendar from her peers. This curiosity lead her to discover a new potential zodiac: Ophiucus, or the Serpent Bearer. Her mentor, Lucifer (the holder of Aries), caught wind of her discovery. The introduction of a new zodiac would lead to a power dynamic shift, creating a domino effect that knocks all of the other holders down in their power. In order to assert his dominance over her, Lucifer challenged Raphael to a magic duel to prove that Aries will always be the most powerful fire sign. Raphael nearly lost the fight, her base level and experience being significantly lower than the near immortal Lucifer, and out of desperation made a minor connection to Ophiucus to draw power from him. This brief connection overwhelmed her, causing the spell to backlash and set the whole stage, the whole school on fire. Raphael fled, cutting the connection from Ophiucus as she went into hiding. She changed her name to Anthony, and swore away magic as he took up the art of being a rogue. The connection left him with small snake like features (slitted yellow eyes and scales scattered across his skin), which made it difficult to get patrons to trust him. He struck gold one day, getting a high paying job that came with a significant price: he had to work with a partner.

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Anathema Device

High Elf Divination Witch

Anathema comes from a prestigious family blood line known for their divination magic. Starting back with her great great great grandmother Agnes Nutter, the Devices became known for their foresight and predictions for the future. As an academic, Anathema has spent all of her life studying the different branches of unknown magic and the histories of the smaller gods that are worshipped. Hired as a tutor for Adam Young, to help him guide his desire to learn magic (and his uncanny ability to cast elemental-based magic, one of the more unusual types), Anathema starts getting visions into her future. A weary pair interwoven by fate, grand battles with her at the front lines, and fire. So much fire.

Newton Pulsifer

Half-Orc Artificer

Newton was never really for the extraordinary. He lived a simple life in his small village, tinkering with machines and making his own strange creations. As he got older, he struggled to hold any sort of job, especially one that involved magic. This is due to his unnaturally ability to dispel any casting by trying to cast his own magic. And sometimes magic gets dispelled just by standing near the caster. Desperate for some work, he takes up a sketchy job from a man named Sergeant Shadwell: his bosses are looking for a serpent and a saint, who were just recently spotted to be traveling with a witch.

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Adam Young

Half-Elf

A boy who embodies chaos, Adam Young is a spry young half-elf who loves to play games with his friends and pester his parents with question after question. As he reached age 11, his father would find Adam sitting in his windowsill, gazing up at the stars. It wasn’t long before he started to display proficiency in magic, a strange type that mixed typical conjuring with elements (the fire he kept producing made his poor mother nervous). In order to control and properly teach him, the Youngs hired Ms. Device to tutor and train his new abilities.

Muriel

Human Bard

A member of the same church as Aziraphale, Muriel is one of the most cheerful voices in the choir. With a deep love of music, Muriel spends most of their time (when not training or going out to preach with their siblings) practicing songs that will be performed at the next service. Yet to be “ordained” with their halos, Muriel is desperate to lend a helping hand so that they may be seen as worthy of rising higher and joining the rest of their siblings. Due to this slight desperation, Muriel was picked to go on an essential mission for the church: find their banished magic user and see if he was even still alive. If so, gather information. Anything they can grasp. They need him under surveillance as the time was coming soon.

[arathain]

A Star of Dawn

The child, perhaps nine years of age or so, hid inside the cupboard, cutlery and tableware prodding in all the uncomfortable places. They did not see the room outside the cupboard, as instructed - quite probably for the better. The two caretakers were armed with a plain shortsword, the door barred with a wardrobe. The singular window's shutter was locked tight, as all the shutters in the town would've been by now. Even through the walls of the room & cupboard, screams and footsteps were audible in the distance. A shudder, the floor vibrating powerfully. Another. The cries went silent. The caretakers gripped their swords tightly, readying themselves as best as they could, given their meagre martial arts training.

The door flew open, smashing against the wall together with the wardrobe. Pieces scattered across the floor, with parts of the wall paint having flaked away to reveal the brick underneath. Through the doorway stepped an unassuming figure, cloaked in grey garbs. A half-mask covered their mouth and nose, two vertical slits streaming down from the tear glands of the eyes. The hair was an unassuming dark brown, streaked with hints of grey. They unsheathed a sword, if you could call it a sword - a solid piece of black granite, sharpened to absurdity. Abruptly, the leftmost nurse dashed towards the figure, sword descending with all the strength they could muster.

With thorough disinterest, the grey being grasped the sword by the blade, the inside of their glove absorbing the cut. Twisting, the sword broke, and the battered nurse could only gasp as the Mason cut twice, stone cleanly cleaving from the clavicle to the midriff, and again, horizontally. The eyes of the murderer were pointed in the direction of their victim, but thoroughly blank - as if seeing past the nurse altogether. With a rise of their left hand, the ground shook, thousands of tiny spikes protruding from the stone bricks directly opposite to the second nurse. With a gurgle, they fell to the floor, countless tiny red splotches forming on their back. Inside of the cupboard, the child could barely contain their fear. The Mason sheathed their sword, looking down on the corpses below them.

'Idiots' the Wheel-Bearer muttered, as a shadowy figure silently ran down the corridor behind them. 'One and all dancing on thin air.'

Turning back to see the one approaching, their voice slit through the air; 'Is the apparatus destroyed? The physickers dead?'

'Aye, sir.' The hands and knives of the Thronebreaker Shadow were painted with blood as they reached into one of their myriad pockets, and extended a blade-like sliver of crystal, tied down intricately with rope. 'The fruits of their labour, in all their glory.'

The Mason carefully grasped the combined effort of a century of alchemists, the crystal dancing as it refracted light in countless, pointless ways.

'Missed the mark by a tad, there.' they said, studying the essence of the artifice. 'A unique approach to be sure, but unacceptable in its intended use.'

The Mason's head turned towards the cupboard. 'Although, a more appropriate use might've presented itself.' They turned back to their compatriot.

'Prepare the Walkway back home; burn the entire complex down as well. It is best if we eliminate all traces of what was being sought after here.'

As the Shadow departed, the immortal-killer walked over to the cupboard, and, without a hint of hesitation, smashed it into the ceiling. The child shrieked as shards of clay and porcelain cut their face and arms, woodchips scraping against their skin. Laying broken on the floor, the small one coughed up blood as the Mason grabbed them by the neck, lifting them up so as to inspect them. Their eyes widened; still seeing past what they were looking at, however it seemed that, for a brief moment, a brand new vision was revealed to the lifeless orbs.

'Oh, you'll do.' The mason stabbed the primitive crystal kris into the child's nape, sending convulsions throughout the body as the crystal fused with the child's self, guided by the Mason's hand. 'You'll do well. I may not be a child of the Bud or the Blossom, but even the graceless I may yet serve the Twin-Dragon Wheel. Tell me, what is your name?'

The slivers of clay and porcelain flew off of the child as the magical stone-and-metalworker's hand moved, the crystal in the child's body bringing them back to bearable conditions once more.

The child hesitantly spoke. 'I'm J-'

Cut off before being given a chance to barely start, the child flew against the wall, bones cracking as the blunt of the Mason's stone-sword retreated into its sheath. With a twist of the hand, the child was brought back to a state just undamaged enough to be able to stand straight. Raising a hand to their chin, the Mason lowered themselves to look down upon the tiny one.

'Do not utter such useless words. You are nothing, were nothing, and, given your circumstances would be any different, would've been ash soon. Alas, your existence has the potential to feed the Twin Ouroboros, and that is a task I wouldn't dare to intrude upon. What are your parents' names?'

The child hesitated, silent in fear.

'Tell them to me.'

As the child opened their mouth to speak, they were thrown across the room once again, the Mason's blade ringing as it retreated into its sheath once more. Once again, the child was raised up, brought back to just before the brink of death.

'Your parents are dead or dying, and their essence is a disgrace to existence itself. A name must be earned, and they've long lost any right to such distinguishment. Given time and effort, your existence shall warrant a name for it; now, tell me. What is your name?'

With fear in its eyes, the child hesitantly whispered. 'Nothing. I have no name.'

The Mason straightened upright, still looking down on the now time-scattered child, their upbringing soon to be wiped off of the annals of history. 'Rule of the third - very well, you are salvageable.'

The Mason grabbed them by the nape and dragged them, their feet sliding across the planks. The halls they were dragged through burned with a blue flame, parting before its creator. Through the blue haze, the child saw corpse after corpse, being consumed by flames fed from the very essence of their previous owners. As the alchemists' mansion Blossomed blue and the Mason stepped through the Walkway, the child drifted away, their exhaustion sliding their eyelids shut.

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

The young adult circled the colourless meal on their plate with a three-pronged fork, the individual spines sharper than they have any right to usually be. The table, akin to the room itself, was plain and stone-cold - potentially owing to the fact it was made of said stone. Footsteps. The clank of cruel metal against the stone floor rang as the Mason entered the small kitchen, the two lanterns newly invigorated with blue flame. Rising a chair out of the sheer rock, the solitary Wheel-Bearer sat in front of the budding chrysalis. The no-longer-child but not-quite-adult immediately straightened and set down their fork - for the house, and the child, were the Mason's, and their existence was leveraged on serving their assigned purpose.

'What stands in your path?'

The adolescent looked at their 'mentor' bewildered, waiting for an elaboration. When one inevitably did not come, they gave in and hesitantly asked. 'Pardon?'

The immortal-killer sighed. 'You do not make progress. You have not made progress. The wheel does not budge for you. What stands in your path, to hinder you so?'

Looking down at their plate through their newly-made crystal glasses, the adolescent failed to provide an answer. While they held faint memories of occasional cruelty from the Mason, the being has never failed to provide for them, and allowed them to foster their skills whenever they provided. In contrast, the adolescent failed miserably at trials of power and wit, unable to impress in any degree. To say the young one felt useless was an understatement, to say the least.

'I- I do not know.'

The Mason stood up, the chair underneath crumbling to dust. 'Very well.'

With a single motion, the seat the adolescent sat in shot up through the roof, the stone tiles retracting to make space for the average-sized figure. As the young one got up, the Mason effortlessly climbed onto the rooftop, gazing at the stars above.

'The stars are curious, among the cycle. Seemingly ageless, they nevertheless pop in and out of existence in due time; their lifespans simply outshine a mortal one by aeons, forever out of reach.' Looking back at the adolescent, their eyes seeing past, the Mason stared. 'This is your purpose. That is the end of your journey, the culmination of your purpose; your death will blind a thousand eyes, and send the Wheel reeling forward. With time, and the care I grant unto you, you shall be fit for this express purpose; only power can be your salvation.'

The adolescent stared at them, wide-eyed.

'S-so, my only purpose is to die?'

The Mason's eyes narrowed, the grey irises drilling into the young one's own. 'If you do not find another way, yes - that shall be your purpose. Only if your existence will be noteworthy, may you escape the Wheel by serving it.' With that, the roof parted underneath them, and they walked out of the small stone house, opening a Walkway to stifle places far removed. As the wound in the world's fabric closed, the child looked up longingly at the astral objects above, grasping. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Astron woke up, rising against the wooden table, as the first rays of the morning sun illuminated Rat's hideaway log cabin. Rubbing their eyes and adjusting their cheap yellow glasses, they gathered their sketches and stowed their books away, lest Rat see what they're researching. The Mason's works, as well as miscellanities on the occult they gathered from their travels. Insofar, their search did not bear many fruit, however they were determined to find the truth of what 'Circle-Breaker' meant, and, perhaps more importantly, to discover who it was that so effortlessly put an end to the Mason altogether. Perhaps, there were other things that this being could bring an end to, or better yet - elevate.

As they gathered up the last of the papers, one of the pieces gave them pause - a singular sketch of the old dining hall at the Perch; Lux, Freak, & the Mason all together with them. Holding it tightly, they walked outside, the mountain valley laid out in front of them.

They squinted as the golden rays of the sun hit their eyes, hands firmly gripping the veranda below them. Looking up, the stars faded, but not in the mind of Astron. Grimacing, they painstakingly tore up the small sketch, letting the tiny shreds be scattered by the wind. Heading back inside, a single, soft mutter escaped from under their breath.

'No cost too great.'

[lenorethequietbookkeeper]

Of all the creatures that call Hell home, Wrath Demons stand out as the most common and humanoid of their monstrous brethren, with nearly all possessing a sapien face and body. This is where the similarities to man end. All specimens possess sickly skin and a set of horns. Horns are a staple in Wrath Demon culture, as headbutting is how they assert dominance and settle disputes. Magidemics believe a bulk of old world documentation on demons describes those of this sin, as there was a time when they frequently visited Earth in service of the more magically inclined nobility and scholars. Their role in Hell is best described as beasts of burden. Because of their large builds, Wrath Demons can take on more physically arduous tasks with far less issues than other demons. So long as they are compensated in some way, the majority of them do not mind playing the roles of factory and farm hands. A few are even willing to lend themselves in the service of human sorcerers. Be warned however, these anthropoids are extremely temperamental and quick to respond to even the smallest, most unintentional slights against them with extreme violence. Some speculate their subservient roles to other demons and human-like appearance could imply the Wrathful are descendants of the first sinners to entirely succumb to darkness.

Speaking of which, Wrath Demons that began life as men are easily spotted by the bulbous eyes emerging from random spots on their bodies. Shortly after shedding their given flesh, the demons not native to Hell will break out in large, agonizing pustules. When those infections explode, the bearer is left with massive eyes they can never be rid of. Although the sinner-born do acclimate to their new optic organs with time, the orbs always bring chronic pain and physical disorientation, even to the oldest of hosts. These effects are at their most potent for the first couple centuries.

Regarding genetics, the most prominent traits in Wrath spawn are slit-pupil eyes, pointed ears, human hands, and most predictably, a set of horns. All of the listed traits emerge when grouped with the blood of other demons, though they tend to fade when mixed with man blood. Curiously, the only trait that will persistently endure throughout generations of human descendents are the pointed ears.

[dreamdragoness]

I made this a while ago and it's one of the pieces I'm most proud of for Silent Flocks.

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

Jhula ran as fast as she could from Silk Cradle, even in this torrential downpour. Time was running out and she had so much to do. A part of her couldn't believe she was going to do the one thing she swore she would never do. To call upon the only one who can help her now. She needed to reach him! She needed him to save Lambert! There was no other choice. 

"I have to do this! If I don't, there's no guarantee that Lambert will survive!"

In a brief moment, she looked back. The temple where she was raised for the past seventeen years was getting smaller and smaller. It was her home. But not anymore. Blinking away her tears, Jhula kept running.

"I'm sorry, everyone! I'm sorry Shamura! But I can't let you do this! If the bishops won't heed my words..."

She swallowed some bile that her nerves conjured before proceeding with her declaration. 

"...then I have no choice but to beseech HIM!"

Jhula ran until she was certain she was at the edge of Silk Cradle, made evident by the emergence of green grass. The sacrifice was to be held in Leshy's temple in Darkwood. Even as she ran non-stop, Jhula knew she wouldn't be able to reach Lambert in time. And barging in while all four bishops were there was suicidal.

No. This was her only hope. 

Quickly, Jhula found a spot bare of stone and plants and began her work. First, she made a circle of blood using the large flask she stole from the ritual chamber. Once a perfect circle was made, she continued to pour until the pentagram she saw in the book was complete. The goat ignored the dread and guilt that threatened her stomach and stepped into the circle. From her bag, she pulled out the knife and looked at her reflection. This was it. The point of no return.

Taking in a deep breath, Jhula got to her knees and began the Dark Prayer "With my blood and my devotion, I call upon the Fifth! Master of the Great Beyond, Lord of Souls, and Guardian of the Dead!

"I, Jhula of Silk Cradle, former Archivist of Shamura, spill my blood as a sacrificial beast,

"And call on your true name so that you may hear my prayer!"

With the dagger, Jhula slit her palm, allowing a stream of blood to trickle down and onto the glowing circle.

"BEARER OF THE RED CROWN AND THE GOD OF DEATH: NARINDER!"

As soon as she called the name, Jhula felt a sinister power flow through her. It coiled around her like a serpent, ready to constrict her. As soon as it filled her, Jhula's eyes glowed red against the darkness and warmed her from the cold rain.

"I beseech thee, Crimson Lord! As I pray to you, the last lamb in the world and one dear to me, Lambert, is being led to the headsman's axe in an attempt by the Bishops of the Old Faith to thwart your return! I willingly grant you my body, my blood, my very soul if you could save him! Save the last lamb! I beg of you, the One Who Waits! Please hear me and save Lambert!"

A deep chuckle rumbled through Jhula's mind as she struggled to keep herself steady. The power of the One Below was overwhelming, yet familiar. She knew this feeling from her first death. But Jhula dared not to ask questions other than what she was asking of the dark god. She could sense Him observing her as she conducted the dark rite in his name. No doubt analyzing her to see if her prayer was worthy. The fact that she heard Him filled her spine with ice. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the power faded and Jhula collapsed. But before she passed out, Jhula heard the voice one last time.

"Very well, my newest follower. I shall answer your prayer."

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

I created this piece after I had asked a question in my head.

"If the prophecy called for a lamb to be Narinder's vessel, why didn't he pick ones that were freshly dead at the beginning? Why did he wait until there was one lamb left before he laid out his offer?" I came up with an idea for Silent Flocks. The reason Narinder never approached the other lambs was because he wasn't made aware. Therefore, a willing soul must perform an ancient rite, the Dark Prayer, to reach him. In ancient times, this rite was used by High Priests and High Priestesses to contact a specific bishop depending on how the incantation was said while standing in a pentagram made of blood. To establish full contact, a small amount of blood from a sacrificial-class beast (lambs, goats, etc.) must be spilt inside. Of course, the bishops were aware of this and erased the Dark Prayer from all but their most restricted books and erased Narinder's name as an added measure. It's a plot point in the fic on how Jhula acquires Narinder's name, as names hold power in various myths, is something that will be revealed in the fic.

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Silent Hill: Konami Cult of the Lamb: Massive Monster Jhula and the Dark Prayer: Me

[the-one-who-lambs]

I have some scenes in my head I want to share with you, here's the first one. The three former Bishops were shocked to see the last one remaining as Shamura appeared in the middle of the Cult.

"Shamura!" Heket called, followed by Leshy and Kallamar. But the moment they joined Shamura who seemed confused what was happening, the air around them tensed as they felt a hostile presence right behind them, and they knew who it was.

"Don't move," muttered the Lamb. "I'll make this more painful for you if one of you move a single muscle."

"You damn treacherous--" Heket growled until Lamb's glare fell on her and made her feel like she has been stabbed by thousands of knives.

"If you want me to finish what Narinder started be my guest Heket, I'll gladly slit your throat," Lamb warned as they slowly walked to the four former Bishops of the Old Faith. "The mystic seller told me to keep you from being trapped between life and death, they never said I should keep you alive."

"So you intended to kill us from the very beginning?" Leshy asked as he shielded Shamura and Kallamar behind him.

"Obviously," Lamb snorted. "My friends, my family, my people...they're all dead because of you!"

As if in response to the Lamb's anger, the sunny sky grew darker with dark red clouds covering it entirely. The former bishops kept moving back with every step Lamb made.

"Don't you know it's when you're desperately trying to keep a prophecy from happening that it realizes? Your savagery caused your own doom the moment I met Narinder, except my loyalty for him, avenging my kind was what drove me to get rid off you," Lamb growled as their eyes turned red as the Red Crown started blinking like crazy in response to its bearer's emotions. "I forgot who I was, who I knew. Everything of my mortal life is gone, never to return because of your cowardice!"

"I understand your feelings Lamb."

Lamb's steps stopped when they heard Ratau's voice. They didn't turn around but they felt his sad old eyes watching them.

"You're feeling guilty of being the only one of your kind being alive, you want to give them peace. But will killing the bishops in their current state which is completely defenceless really give your kind what you want to give them?"

"I can't save my people, I can't bring them back to life which was cruelly stolen to them...," Lamb said as blood tears stared to flow, then they gritted their teeth and started casting a curse. "Then why should I let their murderers have this chance they don't deserve?!"

Below Leshy, Heket and Kallamar's feet, black hands came from the ground and took them in their holds, keeping them from moving even with their struggles. Shamura, who kept their head down started to slowly lift it and look what was happening.

"I shall fix this injustice by starting with the one who saw this prophecy!" Lamb roared as they walked to Shamura as the red crown shaped as a sword in their hand.

"No Shamura!" Kallamar screamed in fear.

Heket gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, not wanting to see Lamb kill her sibling, then she felt someone walk beside her and the moment she opened her eyes again, she was surprised to recognise this person.

"You...," she said, speechless to say more.

"Where am I? Who...are we?" Shamura muttered in confusion as they saw a familiar shape walking towards them. The spider looked up to see the Lamb staring at them with so many emotions mixed at the same time as they were raising their sword.

"I am sorry."

Lamb's movements halted the moment they heard those words came out of Shamura's mouth as they looked at them with wide eyes with their cheeks stained with blood tears. Everyone who assisted the scene watched with disbelief except from the figure who kept walking until they were just right behind Lamb.

The latter blinked, also in disbelief as the sword transformed into the red crown as it flew above Lamb's head. The black hands holding the other three former bishops disappeared, setting them free and the red clouds started to vanish, letting the sun's light penetrate into the cult's grounds.

"Is that all you have to say...?" Lamb whispered.

Without a word or another glance at Shamura, Lamb turned around to see Narinder. The black cat didn't say a word as he wiped Lamb's tears from their cheeks.

"Although this is an amusing sight, your face is unworthy of the god who remains," Narinder said as he took Lamb's hand to guide them to Ratau. "Go get some rest Lamb. You're exhausted."

Ratau took Lamb with him after he gave a nod to Narinder who nodded in return. He gave a look at each of those he called his siblings who noticed how the malice he had before was nowhere to be seen in his eyes. He helped Shamura stand up as he kept them from falling.

"Fate has a funny way with things doesn't it?" Narinder said.

I wrote a very detailed answer this morning, and then Tumblr crashed and I lost all of it two seconds before I was about to hit post... Sorry to make you wait.

First of all, I'm so happy that you decided to share this with me. Sharing your writing is a vulnerable act, especially if you're just getting started. You have many interesting ideas going on here, and I think this scene would work very well if you developed it into a one-shot or as a chapter/part of a chapter in a multichap fic. I think this is a scene definitely worth exploring, so if you want to flesh it out, here are some things to think about that I'd be interested to see:

The Lamb planned to kill the former Bishops, but they've also kept them all alive this whole time. What might have been their motivation to do this?

Leshy seems surprised that Lamb intended to kill them, which seems to imply that Lamb didn't treat the former Bishops with outright hostility or outwardly violent intentions before this scene. How did Lamb treat them all in the events leading up to this? I think expanding upon this would make for an excellent introduction!

Lamb states that they were motivated by their loyalty to Narinder, but they've also taken the crown from him. These two statements don't have to conflict; what made them decide to take the Red Crown if they were loyal to him? (Or, if they were once loyal, what made that loyalty waver? Did it happen slowly? All at once?) This isn't the main focus of the story, but I would love to hear your interpretation, either as a different chapter/story or as a detail you allude to.

Where is Ratau coming from? His appearance seems very sudden.

Shamura acts as a catalyst in many ways in this scene. I especially love your decision that, as all this is happening, Shamura doesn't seem to know what's going on at all. And yet, the moment they see the Lamb, all they feel is regret. This is an excellent opportunity to play up the motifs of guilt and mourning that underlie this entire scene during the climax.

Shamura only says one sentence before Lamb's mentality begins to break down. What's going on with their thought process here to make them flip a switch so quickly?

How do the other former Bishops react to the way Narinder treats the Lamb?

Thank you so much for sharing this scene with me. There are so many talented writers in the Cult of the Lamb fandom, and I'm willing to bet that most of us would be thrilled to see you share your creativity. Whatever story you have is worth telling.

As a final note, I am always open to answering any writing-related questions that my followers or readers may have. I'm one person with one perspective, but if you're curious about writing advice, I'm happy to share. Best of luck, friend!

[razieltwelve]

Out (Final Rose)

It was at that moment that Yang Xiao Long knew she had fucked up.

And that she was about to get fucked.

"Out." Averia's voice was harsh, far closer to a growl than civilised speech.

Weiss blinked. "What?"

Averia's eyes narrowed into slits of emerald fury. "You." Her gaze snapped to Weiss, Ruby, and Blake. "Out. Now."

"This is our dorm room!" Weiss protested. "You can't just -"

The sudden eruption of Aura had Weiss, Ruby, and Blake scrambling for the door. Averia wasn't just angry. She was absolutely enraged, and none of them were brave enough to get between Averia and her target.

Suddenly alone with Averia, Yang could only gulp as Averia shut the door behind her, locked it, and then threw a Saviour-based forcefield over the entire room. Forget being disturbed, they might as well be in another universe right now.

"Uh..."

"You fucking tease," Averia snarled.

Yang's mouth went dry. Averia almost never sweared, and she couldn't even remember the last time she'd sworn with such venom behind it.

"I'm sure you had a lot of fun during the mission."

Averia stalked forward, and Yang shivered. There was an intoxicating mix of madness, fury, and desire in the other woman's eyes. Her Aura pulsed, heavy with the threat of violence and the promise of pleasure.

"You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you?"

Yang did. Before the joint mission between Team ACEJ and Team RWBY, Yang had asked Averia to promise her something. Ever indulgent, the other woman had agreed.

And so Yang had made Averia promise not to touch her during the mission. Anything outside of the usual contact that might be expected during joint combat was forbidden. There were to be no hugs, no kisses, and absolutely no sex.

Averia had agreed without a second thought.

After all, the mission was only supposed to take a couple of days.

But the mission hadn't taken just a couple of days.

One thing had led to another, and it had dragged on for three weeks.

And because Yang had always liked to push, to see just how much she could get away with, she had started teasing Averia. It had started off with heated looks but had rapidly escalated into slightly more revealing clothing and even fleeting touches. The promise had been quite specific about Averia touching Yang, but the opposite wasn't true. Those fleeting touches had then given way to lingering caresses and heated embraces, none of which had led any further.

There was something viscerally thrilling about watching Averia's control slowly but surely disintegrate. The pink-haired woman was normally a paragon of self-control, so utterly self-possessed and unflappable that it was almost always Yang who was flustered, almost always Yang who was driven almost insane with need. To finally have the shoe on the other foot was intoxicating.

Then the mission had ended, which meant the promise no longer applied. And Yang found herself staring at a half-insane bearer of Saviour who seemed torn between beating the shit out of her and fucking her senseless, or possibly doing both.

"Uh..." Yang held her hands up placatingly. "I might have gone a little bit far, but you know..."

"Shut the fuck up," Averia hissed. "Three weeks, Yang. I put up with your shit for three weeks."

Yang found herself backing up until her back met the wall. She briefly considered throwing herself out the window before remembering what Averia had done. There was no escaping what was about to happen. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?" An involuntary giggle left her lips, and Averia glared.

"Did you just fucking giggle?"

"No -"

"You fucking giggled. I can't believe it." Averia stalked forward. "Three weeks, Yang. You know how I have perfect memory? I can't even remember what happened during the mission because all I could think about was fucking you. So that's what I'm going to do." Averia's leaned forward to whisper into Yang's ear. "Three weeks. For the next three weeks, that's all I'll be doing."

Yang almost came then and there. "But... we've got classes and missions and -"

"Do you think time means a fucking thing in here?" Averia gestured vaguely at the room around them, the room she'd completely surrounded in Saviour's power. "I can do whatever I want to you, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it."

Yang swallowed thickly. "You know... you're kind of being a little scary right now."

Averia's eyes narrowed ominously. "Good. Maybe this time you'll learn your damn lesson." She grabbed Yang's wrist and tossed her onto the bed. "You wanted to push me? Congratulations. Consider me pushed." She bared her teeth. "I had three weeks to come up with ideas, Yang, and you will be experiencing each and every one of them."

X X X

When the Saviour field around their dorm room finally vanished, Ruby, Blake, and Weiss warily made their way back.

"Uh..." Ruby knocked on the door. "Can we come in now?"

Averia's voice was calm. "Of course, Ruby."

Ruby opened the door and took a quick look around. The dorm room seemed okay, but that wasn't exactly reassuring considering what Saviour was capable of.

Averia was sipping on a cup of tea at Yang's desk while Yang herself was asleep. The blonde had been tucked into bed, and Averia gave her a fond look before turning her attention to Ruby.

"So... um... is everything okay now?" Ruby asked timidly. "You're not mad anymore?"

"Yang has learned her lesson," Averia said primly. "Although it did take a great deal of effort on my part to educate her."

"And by lesson...?" Blake asked.

Averia's calm expression vanished momentarily, and for a moment, they caught a glimpse of passion so intense it stole their breath away. Averia took a deep breath and had another sip of tea.

"Imagine the hottest, most frenzied and passionate sex that you can. Now imagine three weeks of that enhanced with all of Saviour's optimisation and all the ideas I came up with while Yang was busy teasing me during our mission." Averia smiled thinly. "There is a reason Yang is asleep right now and probably won't wake for at least a day or two. And if she isn't limping when she does wake up, it'll be a miracle."

"..." Blake's jaw dropped.

"Let me be absolutely clear. Yang fucked around, and she found out." Averia's lips curled. "It's a good thing that Yang and I are planning to get married when we graduate because I have absolutely ruined sex for her with anyone else. Nothing will ever feel remotely as good as the way I make her feel, and the next time she decides to be obnoxious, she had better remember that."

Averia finished her tea and stood. "Don't worry about cleaning or anything like that. I made sure to handle it all with Saviour." She glanced back at Yang before leaving the room. "And when Yang wakes up, tell her that I will not tolerate any lapses in behaviour."

The three other members of Team RWBY watched Averia leave.

"That was absolutely fucking terrifying," Weiss whispered.

"I'm really scared right now," Ruby added.

Blake stared at the two of them. "I can't be the only one who thinks that was really hot too, right?"

"Absolutely," Weiss said, nodding. "Yang is so fucking lucky."

Ruby gulped. "If I didn't already know I liked women, I would now."

X X X

Author's Notes

One of the more interesting quirks about a Yang x Averia relationship in comparison to an Elsa x Averia relationship is the dynamic. Yang is way more willing to push and poke and prod at Averia. And Averia has increasingly little fucks to give about pushing back.

It's a strange cycle. Yang loves provoking a reaction from Averia, and Averia loves to assert herself. As you can imagine, being fucked into complete sexual oblivion on a regular basis is not exactly a deterrent for Yang. If anything, it just incentives her behaviour.

Intellectually, Averia knows this. But at the same time, the two of them both enjoy it so much that neither of them is inclined to stop. Their quirks, so to speak, line up perfectly. As Diana once dryly observed, it's a good thing that Averia isn't a man. Otherwise, they'd have to worry about unplanned pregnancy.

On a slightly more serious note, the only reason this works is because of the trust the two have in each other. No matter what, Yang is absolutely, positively sure that Averia will never truly hurt her. Without that trust, this sort of thing just wouldn't work. Averia's fury wouldn't be arousing, it would be terrifying.

As for what they did in that room, I'll leave that to your imagination. But Averia did have three weeks to come up with ideas, and she let Saviour go absolutely wild during the three weeks of extended time they had in that room. Averia's comment at the end was not an idle boast. She is quite a possessive person.

Incidentally, this whole thing has Lightning quietly preparing the wedding. After all, Lightning has Saviour. She can sense the time dilation effect and guess what's happening inside the room. She will also be having a chat with Averia because she can sense how this whole thing has affected Averia's Saviour. Regardless of their marital status, Averia's Saviour has basically designated Yang as 'wife', which means weapons free and rules out the window when it comes to Yang. The next time they visit Oerba, you can bet that Fang will be telling all the other young men and women to watch what they do and where they look if they want to continue living.

[phoenixfiiire]

@deusmater asked: 📃 for ana? but athena might be interesting too sfdgd | If you slip in a little 📃 I will discuss one three scenarios that have been living in my head rent free | accepting ONLY if we aren't writing and i will be very slow on answering

1 - we're already writing the biggest idea i have which is 'Annabella actually gets to raise Joshua' and i am so pumped to see where this goes. cause like? broke take is that Joshua winds up just like Olivier. Annabella would want him to be a confident, capable ruler - but there's still the unfortunate part of 'you kinda got my dad killed and turned my brother into a bearer' and the added drama of Joshua being torn between helping his brother or staying with his mother is just... 😙🤌

2 - there's also the idea of Annabella not dying at the Dominion, and the drama that would unfold from there. Joshua would not allow Dion or Clive to hurt her; if Annabella hadn't slit her throat and Dion had tried to throw the spear, Joshua would have tanked it instead without hesitation. the unity between the three men would be shattered because Joshua just still loves his mother, regardless of how gaslight gatekeep and girlbossing she is.

3 - with Athena, so in her bio it sounds like she might be against what Ultima is doing? which opens up this gigantic world of things that could happen, because she's still not... good. she's still this being that's puppeting the rulers of Valisthea and guiding them down the paths she wants them to go down, but she's slightly better because she doesn't want to kill them all. lesser of two evils but still really evil.

i also really want to see her and @dragonliiight interact i am fascinated to see how she would change him if she played a big part in his educational process