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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year

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Demon!Azriel x Reader: Teeth and Talons

Summary: you’re accused of witchcraft and sacrificed to the shadow creatures, only to be saved by their ruler who’s suspiciously in sudden need of a bride…

Warnings: demon!Azriel, drinking blood (more vampiric), mentions of cannibalism, sexual tension, rituals, monsterform! azriel?, biting

A/N: I do want to make a small note that @azrielscrown ’s Prince of Hell series made me want to write my own demon!Azriel fic!

-Part 2- -Part 3-

Visual Prompt here!

You’re a trembling mess, cold sweat slicking your body with sallow skin, temperature fluctuation from sizzling to so cold you feel you’ll seldom be capable of movement once the fit has passed. You know what the priests will say. Possession. They’ll say you’re being inhabited by a shadow creature, tie you to the bed and mist sacred water across you until your body shatters.

The fever isn’t subsiding, and you’re not the first to succumb to the strange plague sweeping through the citadel. Just one of many poor, unfortunate souls. You’ve heard they’ve taken to burning the bodies. Some not completely void of life before they’re set alight.

Is this really the end? It swept in so abruptly, seizing you firmly as it ravages you internally. You can only hope death will come silently.

————————

When you wake, your rags are soaked with sweat, a dark pool having formed beneath you, yet you are no longer being sieged by heat. Your brow is clear of sweat, your limbs no longer being wracked with tremors.

You’re struck by the peculiarity of the miracle. Nobody else has survived. Surely if the plague wasn’t fatal word of mouth would have carried the news to the emperor by now. Not as if he would know what to do. Not as he if was actually ruling.

Maybe some god had taken pity on you.

You should make an offering to Thesan.

————————

The following morning you were arrested. Witchcraft, they said.

Not miracle-worker. That was reserved for men.

The stories had willingly flown in. A woman without husband, living by herself, suddenly recovering from an absolutely fatal plague? Corruption. A pact made with the Lord of the underground. The king of Hel.

Devil worshipper.

Witch.

Whore.

The last you knew had nothing to do with the allegations and everything to do with your sex. It didn’t make the sting and less painful.

————————

You’re thrown to your knees at the foot of the dais, the boy-king sat atop the throne, lounging in a bored fashion. He only perked up when he was brought ‘visitors’, or rather, people for him to inflict punishment.

Candle-wic, he cries, clapping his hands in puerile manner, his young mouth lifting into a gleeful smile as he points at you. How a child could so joyfully sentence someone to being doused in scalding tarmac only to be then set aflame, you could hardly fathom, yet here the boy-king sat, dictating your fate with a flick of his youthful hand.

His advisor advises him. Something less flamboyant. More discreet.

It’s the first time you’re setting eyes upon the emperor’s advisor and you’re not at all surprised to see the old man with already fading hair and wrinkles that swallow his eyes beneath flaps of loose skin. But that’s what you catch on. Eyes black as the devil’s, black like you’ve never seen black. Dark as pitch.

They’re alarmingly void, more than anyone’s have any right to be…and lacking in definition. Just one solid layer glazing across the obsidian coloured surface. Depthless.

He suggests leaving you for the devil you sold your heart to in order to revive a remedy. There’s no use in proclaiming your piety, their minds are set. You’re a threat to their power, an unseen obstacle and must be dealt with accordingly.

————————

And that’s how you find yourself in the centre of The Blood Rite. The private ceremony is reserved for great warriors to prove their worth. Though apparently, it serves as a discreet method of elimination for unwanted - innocent or not - citizens.

The earth is damp beneath your knees, the bones sinking into the mud. Your wrists are bound painfully - a courtesy that would not be extended to a warrior. The ties are designed to hinder, to make an already inevitably gruesome death all the more horrid by removing any ridiculously self-indulgent notions of escape.

Your breath fogs as you exhale harshly, the night air freezing your lungs with every breath. How long had you been kneeling here, waiting patiently for your end? Because it’s coming for you. There’s no point of struggling. Movement would only catalyse the inevitable. Maybe if you remained still, calmed your heart and removed any sort of thrum from your body the unknown entity would leave you be.

Wishful thinking.

The night air presses in on you, goosebumps pebbling up your forearms, hackles rising at your back. There’s a presence to the forest you’ve been dumped in, a cloying madness that lies between the trees, stalking every silent breath of damp air.

A twig snaps to your right, tension rippling up your body, neck flushing with heat as terror seeps from your being. Your eyes dart around the forrest in a frenzied dance.

A shadow flickers in your peripheral vision, darting behind a tree. Pulses thrum through you, beating your blood melody loud and clear. How long would your death last? Would you unnecessarily suspended in those agonising moments that should be limited to mere seconds? Or would the dark beasts draw out your torture, playing with the shreds of your skin with carnal delight.

Something rustles to your left, like a hurried shuffle through leaves, only made to taunt and confuse. Made to misdirect.

Then something pounces on you, sharp claws biting into your shoulders as you’re slammed backwards into the ground. Maybe it would be quick, but not painless. A beast wreathed in shadow, four paws with talons the length of your forearm and rows of razor sharp teeth that glitter with wet saliva beneath the silver moonlight. It has an elongated snout, a flat nose sliding over the protrusion, skin around it’s eyes peeled back to be permanently bulging.

It shoves it’s snout against the spoonful of your abdomen, sizing up how big a bite to take. You pray, silver lining your eyes as your body trembles, petrified to the spot. You can easily imagine entrails decorating it’s teeth like the wreathing in temples. Your stomach lurches.

Then it releases an ear splitting scream, agony slicing down your ears as it howls to the sky. Hot, dark liquid splatters onto your torso, followed by a wet ripping sound. Its blood - you assume that’s the liquid - smells of damp clothes left in a pile beneath the sun: stagnant. Admittedly, not the worst scent.

The large creature goes lax, slumping forward, toppling on top of you. You’re crushed by the weight that slugs into you, knocking the breath from your lungs as you careen backward.

The beast is nudged aside by a large protrusion of shadow, flipping the creature onto its back, allowing you to see the viscera spilling from its soft, round belly. A cold sweat slicks your skin, hairs standing on end as inherent dread twists you round it’s sharp talons.

The humanoid shadow steps forward and you’re frozen in place, hardly able to even shift a muscle as it prowls closer. Until it’s stood in front of you. Fight or flight kicks in, everything kickstarting inside of you as you scramble to your feet, finding safe purchase on the forest floor.

You back up, paralysed with fear as you watch the creature, shadows flickering at its silhouette. Before you really have a chance to move, or even do anything, the shadows swarm forward and you feel rough hands gripping your upper arms.

The last thought you have is how abnormally elongated the creatures talons are, like those on a phœnix.

————————

Your mind can barely comprehend the information. Words turning to mush in your brain, thoughts slowing to a sluggish squelch as you sit across from the dæmon. Azriel.

Azræl? You had asked, trying to pronounce the word on your tongue, but the syllables simply bumbled together. He’d shaken his head, Azriel, he’d repeated. You’d kept you silence, deciding the chance of spelling it out in your mouth to his liking was low enough to class as a risk. Instead you’d swallowed and nodded. He’d looked as though he’d push, but his eyes flicked to the bowl in front of you, ordering you to eat.

All he’d told you was he was in need of a human bride. Not why. Or what your role was. Nothing. So you went on with nothing, deciding to follow his command to eat, despite the protests from your stomach.

You look down only to see there’s no cutlery. Your lips part silently in question, flicking about the table as he watches you from the opposite end, marking your actions. His gaze makes you squirm in your seat, discomfort pressing down on you.

Eventually you swallow, lifting your gaze to his nervously. That was another thing, his eyes: Eyes black as the devil’s, black like you’ve never seen black. Dark as pitch.

“May I have a knife and fork?” You request, voice hoarse and scratchy. His eyes bore into you, piercing your soul as they filter through your pupils. You swallow again, throat feeling dry. The table has a single jug - no glasses. The water is crystal clear, mist condensing over the glass, no doubt refreshingly cool. Your parched throat is desperate for reprieve, yet he gives you none.

You’re in Hel, he’d told you. That was becoming clear.

You try sitting in silence with him, but he keeps staring at you with those wild, pitch black eyes, pupils that swallow his irises - if dæmons have irises.

“You’re not going to inquire why I selected you?” He breaks the silence, his deep voice rolling across to you, encompassing your sentences.

“I’m not so conceited as to believe you intentionally chose me,” you reply, steeling your spine as your eyes flick to his. “You are clearly a creature of self-serving narcissism.” Is it wise to say that to a dæmon that technically saved your life? Either way, you hope he doesn’t hold that over you. Dæmons can be…unkind when it comes to their debts.

“Creature over beast?” He responds. Despite the casual tone he’s using, his sharp gaze reminds you it’s anything but. “Are you a beast?” You settle on.

“That’s for you to decide for yourself.”

You bite off some of the fluffy bread, “so there’s no definitive answer?”

He cocks his head, amusement sparking in his obsidian gaze. The movement makes you pause. You have close to zero idea what his intentions are.

You swallow. “You’re not going to eat anything?” You nod to his end of the table, void of any eating instruments. What do dæmons eat, anyway? Do they eat?

A slow smile lifts the edges of his mouth, the tips of glittering canines protruding beneath his lips. There’s nothing remotely kind about it.

Discomfort coils in your lower belly. You’re no longer hungry. Moving slowly, you quietly push the plate away a little, lowering your hands to your lap as you shift in the chair. Something gleams in his eyes and you wonder if he derives pleasure from the buildup of tension before a kill. Immediately, you regret the thought.

“I think I’m full,” you announce, softly, hoping you’ll be allowed to leave the chamber. “Not curious about my eating habits?” He drawls. You know you probably don’t want to hear the answer, but he’s not really giving you a choice. All you can hope for is that it won’t upend the contents of your stomach.

“It didn’t seem as though you were keen on answering,” you reply, watching your hands fiddle in your lap.

He hums, and you prepare yourself. But silence follows.

When you lift your gaze to see what he’s doing, he’s gone, seat empty. It’s unnerving being in his presence, but at least you have a vague sense of where he is. Now you feel as if he’s watching from every corner. You shift in your seat, heart pounding.

A hand wraps beneath beneath your jaw and you flinch, jumping in your seat. He pulls your head to the side, lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as your fingers turn white with how hard they’re biting into the wood of the chair arm. Your jaw tightens as you feel the menacing scrape of canines tracing your throat, every muscle in your body turning rigid as you shrink into the chair.

“How obedient,” he drawls, the muffled murmur making your hair stand on end. “I bet I could sink my teeth into you and you wouldn’t move a muscle.” Your breathing turns shallow as you try to limit your movement. “Isn’t that right, bride?” His razor sharp teeth scrape a little too close, a hot stinging sensation prickling your neck. You try to lean away from him but his grip tightens.

“You eat humans?” The tremble in your voice is prominent, and you’re surprised you don’t stutter with the fear that’s thrumming along with your heartbeat. “Among other things,” he drawls, inhaling your scent as you try not to move. Your breath catches as he opens his mouth over your throat, a whimper working it’s was from your own as terror climbs higher. A quiet squeak leaves you as his tongue swipes out, hot and wet, dragging over your skin as he tastes you.

“I can imagine how your skin would come apart beneath my teeth.” Another scrape, followed by that sting. He huffs a dark laugh onto your neck, “does that terrify you, bride?” White spots swim in your vision, dark blotches accompanying them as he squeezes on your throat.

Then he’s pulled back, the spot on your neck feeling cold and empty now his mouth is no longer latched onto you.

“Come, it’s time to retire.”

————————

I can imagine how your skin would come apart beneath my teeth.

The more you replay the words, the stronger the thrill they send spilling inside of you. You have to remind yourself it would be painful. Unpleasantly so. It wouldn’t the be sting he’d given you over the meal, it would be a frenzied shredding. Ripping and tearing as you’re pulled apart beneath his teeth and talons.

If he becomes bored of you, or you fail to meet any expectation of his, would he be free to replace you? Your brow furrows. Are you dead? Surely nothing alive can exist in the underworld. It’s a home for the damned.

Are you damned?

An adrenaline-fuelled smile cracks your lips. Maybe he’s your damnation.

What a silly thought.

At least the bed looks comfy. It’s circular - you hadn’t known they could be circular - and has a distinct lacking of pillows and blankets that you would have expected to decorate the mattress. Maybe that’s just another difference between your kinds.

“You don’t like it.” Displeasure drips from his words as you jump. He’s a very quiet predator. Automatically, you retreat a few steps, finding him directly in front of you when you turn to face his voice. He follows like a dance partner, hand gripping your jaw as he looks down at you, face blank. “Ungrateful,” he taunts, softly.

“I’m curious about the bedding,” you stammer, hauling yourself together. “The nest is fashioned after your own,” he replies, eyes remaining on yours as he pulls you closer, “you did not seem to value them in your own den.”

Heat flushes your cheeks, eyes snapping away from his, “they’re expensive.”

“Steal, then.” You bite back your reply, that if you were caught, you’d suffer a less than favourable death. His brow twitches, “swallow your tongue and be surprised when you choke,” he mutters.

“What?”

He releases your jaw, stalking away, leaving you dazed and confused.

————————

He prowls through your thoughts that night, every scene you dreamt up tainted by a dark shadow lurking just out of sight. The presence grows more sinister as the imagery drags on, growing stronger with every second. He brings a flare of heat with him, every touch of shadow sending flame to lick between your thighs until the dreamscape shifts.

You’re lying on the circular mattress, darkness shrouding the surrounding room, lit only by candles. The milky wax melts to the floor, moving in circles until it forms a tight ring around the mattress. Then, the streams start looking toward your bed, rolling beneath you to inevitably join.

It’s an altar.

Your heart pounds as you look up, that dark presence returning, lurking at the end of the mattress. His pitch black irises take up the whole of his eyes, leaving the ball smothered in darkness. There’s no doubt he looking at you. Shadowy sinew runs beneath his skin, and you follow the lines with your eyes.

He’s naked. Completely without clothing.

Gorgeous. Crafted. Divine.

He’s different from earlier. The blotted out eyes and sinew aside, his canines are more pronounced, fur dusts his abdomen, thickening as you follow down. The same black veins pulse along his cock that’s hard and swollen. Begging to rut into something.

You’re desperate for water, throat parched as you tear your gaze away, dragging it over the rest of him. Scars lacerate his torso, decorating the corded muscle of his arms. Sharp talons split from the skin of his fingertips, curved and razor sharp. As long as your forearm, you would guess, if not longer.

You suck in a breath, raising your gaze to his blacked out eyes. He’s hungry. Ravenous. All of it piercing into you as you shift in the nest, trying to slowly shuffle backward. You catch sight of yourself as you’re doing so, clothed only in a white robe that’s barely concealing your breasts. The lace reaches just past your elbows before it cuts of, and the rest of the silky fabric does nothing to conceal your heat from him. He has the perfect view of you: your thighs are parted though you’re trying to squeeze them together, nipples peaking through the sheer silk.

But he doesn’t move. He just stands there, watching. Waiting.

He’s waiting on you. Waiting for you to come to him.

Heat spools between you thighs as a sinful curve tips the edges of his mouth, like he’s hearing your thoughts and giving you the confirmation you need. You’re not sure what will happen if you don’t adhere to whatever ritual he’s caught you in.

But you know you’re in a dream. You’re asleep; safe. He can’t hurt you here. It means nothing.

Maybe that’s why you shift onto your hands and knees when he beckons you toward him with the pull of his middle and index finger, crawling toward him, eyes trained on one another. It’s like you’re enraptured by him, everything around the male fading to negative space as he encompasses your conscious. He’s everything.

You stop when you reach him, tucking your legs beneath you as you kneel before him, hands in your lap. How obedient. His mouth splits open in a murderous grin, baring his sharp canines as he takes in your submissive form. Small.

How he’ll enjoy defiling you.

————————

You wake with a gasp, skin damp but clothed. You pant, fingers gripping the mattress as you haul down lungfuls of air.

“Bad dream?”

You scream, jerking away from the voice, scrambling backward but a hand wraps around your ankle. He pulls you toward him, making you scream harder, kicking as your night robe rides up until the silk is pooling at your waist.

He snarls at the noise, lifting from his stomach, muscle flexing with the movement, as he climbs on top of you. His hand covers your mouth, silencing you as he straddles your middle. The male sleeps naked. You silently thank his shadows for sparing you the humiliation of a shameful flush decorating you cheeks should you have seen him again, in such a short span.

Silver lines your eyes as those same shadows tie your wrists down.

Terror sets in and you open your mouth, biting down hard on his hand. He doesn’t even flinch. Only cocks his head in what seems like confusion, pulling his hand away to examine it. You still, not knowing what to do. You don’t want to provoke him any further. “You bit me,” he states, eyes flicking to yours, back to normal.

Then a dark laugh rumbles from his chest as one hand grips your jaw, the other thumbing your upper lip away from your teeth, “how adorable.” The pad of the digit runs beneath the blunt edge of your canine, pressing against the enamelled bone, “what were you expecting to do with these?”

You tremble beneath him, the true power imbalance dawning on you. His teeth broke your skin by grazing it, while he’s pressing against your own canine without so much of an ounce of pain showing.

I can imagine how your skin would come apart beneath my teeth.

Before you can manage anything he’s pressing his face into the crook of your neck, scenting you. He pulls back, nostrils flaring.

“You’re in heat.”

“I’m not an animal,” you breathe, a hot flare of indignation flushing your skin. Despite the denial, warmth envelops your body, settling deeper in the pit of your belly. “It just happens sometimes,” you hiss, hot embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “It’s not something I can help.”

“I can.”

“No.”

He tilts his head, lips curving into a malevolent grin, “you’re aroused. That’s what a husband is for.” Your breath hitches at his implication. “You aren’t my husband.”

“Not yet. But you’re still mine.”

“I am not.” His thumb brushes against the soft skin of your neck and you flinch, feeling the sting his canines left. “Maybe to you. But you’re surrounded by my kind. They’ll understand my mark.” Your eyes widen, “you can’t do that,” you breathe, “you can’t just lay claim to any human you want.”

He leans closer and you press back into the bed, “what’s stopping me?” The words brush over your mouth and you shiver.

You’re aware of the shadows thrumming around the bed, how his powerful arms are caging you in, but it’s taken you a while to realise there’s something hard poking into your middle. You squirm beneath him, trying to wriggle out of his dominating hold. “I said: what’s stopping me?” He growls, hand fisting in your hair as he yanks you upward, his mouth grazing leisurely along the lifeline in your throat.

A whimper claws its way up your throat and he laughs at the sound, canines searching for their earlier mark. “That’s right,” he purrs, lapping once over the scratches before he lines his teeth up, preparing to bite down, “nothing.” His fangs sink into your skin and you don’t even have enough breath to scream.

His shadows loosen and your hands instantly fly to his hair, nails raking over his scalp. He doesn’t let up and you grasp onto him desperately, clawing for something to grip, to tie yourself to for some form of safety. You go lightheaded as he feeds.

The myths you’ve heard about their drinking habits are false. In the tales they don’t leave a drop behind, needing every ounce to sustain themselves. For Azriel, it’s a display of decadence. He doesn’t need every drop. He’s drinking you up for his own enjoyment. You aren’t a necessity, or even a luxury; you’re a gluttonous indulgence.

Blood trails hot paths down your neck, sloping over your collar bone, trailing between your breasts as the liquid flows down your body. It spills over your back, saturating the bed with sanguine flavour. Then he pulls back, licking over the bite mark to heal it. You receive a metallic zap, and you’re sealed. Fresh as ever.

He looks down at you, soaking in your look of shock as he releases your hair, a blood-red slash instead of a grin. It drips from his lips, weighted droplets splashing on your chest, staining the silk night clothes. “My side is fulfilled,” he drawls. Your vision swims, fingers releasing their grasp on his soft hair, brushing over his shoulders before falling at your middle.

You manage a few shaky pants before he’s lowering his mouth, a surprised whimper being stolen from your lips as he settles over you. The blood mixes with his taste, tongue sliding over yours as his canines inadvertently slice up the inside of your lips. You lie there, passive, still very much in shock.

With the little strength you have left, you bite down on his tongue. Blood - not yours, this time - fills your mouth, gushing from the wound you’ve made. His eyes snap open angrily, hands brutally digging into your shoulders as he shoves away from you. Fury dances in his charcoal eyes before it’s smothered.

“If I’m going to choke on anyone’s tongue,” you hiss, words dripping with venom, “it’ll be yours. Not mine.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower

#demon! Azriel #acotar #dark! Azriel #Azriel smut #acotar au #azriel acotar #shadowsinger #Teeth and Talons

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knightsickness · 7 months

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Who do you think from the main series would be canonised, if anyone?

!! thank you for this one i had to think about it. this is assuming the organised faith persists in westeros past the end of ados

it’s been said but cat is a nobrainer dutiful wife and mother pious had a sept built at winterfell died trying to protect her son saint of the mother immediately. that time she prayed in the sept and then tried to settle the stannis renly clash by appealing to their fraternity is basically already a sermon on the Love of a Holy Mother. i will say lady stoneheart’s riverlands reign of terror IS damaging her campaign idk what the seven’s stance on revenants is but the medieval church thought specifically that saints’ bodies were purer and couldn’t be puppeted by demons as a lesser person might be + saints’ souls go directly to heaven and would not be bothering the living

brienne joan of arc figure maid of tarth etc. doing riverlands charity work with clergymen famously chaste and good does depend how her story ends but she’s a contender. unfortunately the church would definitely depict her conventionally attractive saint brienne patron of maidens oathkeeping and the isle of tarth would not look like brienne

massively depends how the sparrow storyline ends but if cersei blows up the sept with a lot of them inside that’s a literal martyr explosion i could especially see the high sparrow with his Eating Sparingly Out Of Love For The Poor. also the last high septon cersei had killed. lancel contender i’m not sure the faith is too hot on lannisters rn but there’s something there w him he’s got the born again convert and aceticism. being a lann traitor might work for him

related + also massively depends how she dies and how the trial by seven goes but i think marg as a saint of the maiden could be fun. married three times never consummated once (officially), cruelly slandered as a whore by the most significant enemy of the faith since maegor but all the testimony against her was false. she doesn’t have her physical maidenhead apparently but it’s said multiple times most noble girls don’t bc horseriding can easily break it. beloved by the smallfolk prays in the public sept very into giving alms. even if the faith can’t get past the maidenhead could definitely see blessed margaery. consider sansa for similar reasons esp assuming organised faith still exists after cersei’s death being a pious long-suffering maiden personally victimised by cersei lannister feels like a canonisation fast track

davos has a lot going for him as a saint esp if you polish the onion knighting into a parable instead of savvy business (you can charge starving people whatever you like) but his blasphemous allegiance to noted heathen stannis makes it less likely. unless he kills stannis in which case his saint cred shoots back up. a troubled youth then refinds the seven to combat a wicked heathen sorceress because he knows it to be right despite his love for stannis etc the faith could spin it

the idea that after joff died cersei immediately tried to have him canonised bc he’s her specialest boy is very funny. it’s also fun bc even though i’ve seen some people pull for saint robb robb is wayyyy too much an old gods pagan worshipper despite having every opportunity to follow the faith so saint joffrey the just is significantly likelier. robb is a sad footnote in the Life of St Catelyn

#not exhaustive list but some of the first i thought of #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #catelyn stark #brienne of tarth #lancel lannister #margaery tyrell #sansa stark #davos seaworth #joffrey baratheon #robb stark

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dexdia · 2 months

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Highly considering doing a Seven Deadly Sins rewrite myself bc man there's so much missed potential and honestly a lot of things that don't make sense or haven't been gone over enough-

My biggest gripe being the Goddess race, we barely know anything about them, the archangels were said to be oh-so-strong but 3 of them died not to long after being introduced- And my biggest gripe is that the author definitely pulled that "Bloody Ellie" thing out of his ass during the fight with Demon King Zeldris.

Like man, even the Demon race feels so lacklustre..

Oh! And don't get me started on Chaos!! Especially since its literally the entity that gets put into Arthur who's the main antagonist and villain of the sequel series!!!

Like, I'm pretty sure we don't know about chaos until it's actually revealed,,

Like in my mind, if I was to add/redo things- One of the things I'd do is make the Supreme Deity into a religious figure, being praised as the "Benevolent Goddess" among humans, setting up basically a religion- And maybe this could stem into the magic, such as human believing that the magic they hold was a blessing of the Supreme Deity.

And maybe also set up a clearer hierarchy system among the Goddess and Demon race.

I just want the Goddess race and Supreme Deity herself to play a bigger role cause man I don't really like how she was defeated within like the final 20 minutes of that one film.

Because I think it'd be so interesting to have humans actively worshiping the Goddess race, specifically dedicated to the Supreme Deity and the archangels.

Also, I'd have Chaos introduced a lot earlier- who knows, maybe I could throw in like a group that are worshippers of Chaos.

Tbh I'm just spit balling but it's mostly bc I'm so frustrated at simply how bad the author is at writing- Cause I feel like a lot of the time, he throws in ideas just because he thinks it's cool and doesn't elaborate and explore said ideas.

As I mentioned earlier, the whole "Bloody Ellie" thing ( a character who was established a pacifist in the Gloxinia + Drole flashbacks thing) as well the thing with Helbram where he talked about how fairies were captured and had their wings torn out (I believe we never hear anything about it again after Helbram tells us it), honestly many things.

Also, I just thought of another thing I'd change- Instead of having Derieri, Tarmiel and Sariel die useless deaths, I feel like we could've had Ludociel fight Esta/Mael when the Mael reveal happened bc I feel that would've been so much more impactful-

Because imagine, Ludociel finally fights the person who he thought "killed" his brother and before he goes for the finishing blow, the spell corrodes away and Ludociel is left with the shock and horror that he nearly killed his own brother.

And one more thing or else I'll be ranting forever, have Meliodas' and Elizabeth's relationship questioned and have them actually have to go through challenges

Have people question as to whether or not it was their relationship that trigger started the holy war, have other characters question the way he acts towards current Elizabeth, have Elizabeth have questions herself and wonder if the war was worth it- Let them have arguments!!

I think the only one they technically had was when Elizabeth wanted to rejoin the adventure at the start of season 2 if my memory serves me right.

But yeah.

It's just those little tweaks and add-ins that really begin to flesh it out to its potential, imo.

Anyway, rant over before I continue ranting up to 30k+ words more.

#screaming into the void #screaming internally #seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #sds #nnt

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ryin-silverfish · 1 month

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Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

-This is something I wrote for fun and reference purposes, back when I was starting to seriously get into Chinese mythology. As such, there is no citations, and is meant to be more of a general introduction to Erlang Shen in pre-modern writings.

(Emphasis on "pre-modern", because, as much as I love the Lotus Lantern + Prequel TV series, it's just a little frustrating to see people taking the shows' version as the end-all-be-all of such a complicated deity, y'know?)

-Anyways, much like Nezha, his Archery Accident Bro, Erlang has what I'd refer to as his "Pop Culture Form": Handsome three-eyed warrior god wielding a three-pronged spear, accompanied by his doggo Xiaotian Quan(Literally "Skyhowler"), going by the surname "Yang", jade emperor's nephew, etc.

-However, The Second Lad is an even messier amalgamation of deities worshiped in different parts of China, even in his supposed "home domain", Sichuan. Here, I'm only gonna talk about the most well-known and significant Erlangs.

(Not even gonna go into the possible Zoroastrian influences and the Dujian thing...)

1. Lord of Sichuan, "Li Erlang"

Key words: Hydraulic engineer, based on a historical official and his son, fierce competitor with Zhao Erlang for the Lord of Sichuan title

Weapons: Knowledge

Power: Can turn into a bull/dragon

Pets: N/A

"Who's Yang Jian? I've been watching over Sichuan since the Qin dynasty."

Li Bing was a pretty typical case of famous historical figure being worshiped as gods posthumously; born in the Warring States era, this official was put in charge of the Shu Prefecture (modern Chengdu) by King Zhao of Qin, and he was known as the creator of Dujiang Yan, an ancient irrigation + flood control project.

Later Tang legends deified him with a bunch of traditional "Flood-control hero" tropes taken from Yu the Great (heads up JTTW readers, SWK's staff is originally his extendable ruler), mostly the "hero turn into a giant animal" and "fight and subdue local water demons" aspect.

Though he wasn't yet known as an Erlang, or gained a son called Erlang as later folklore would have it, Li Bing's worship began in the Eastern Han dynasty, and he had a long tradition as Sichuan's guardian deity.

Even as later versions of Erlang began to populate, in the Qing dynasty, people of the province were still like "Our Lord of Sichuan is Li Bing/Li Erlang, not Yang Jian, as the novels would have you believe!"

What made Li Bing and his likely nonexistent son into "Li Erlang" could be traced to the two "warlord states" that occupied Sichuan after the fall of Tang dynasty: both states tried to use the Lord of Sichuan worship to strengthen their own legitimacy, and passed decrees that 1) said Erlang was Li Bing's son and 2) granted both father and son honorable titles, as mentioned in Song dynasty records.

However, due to the association of Erlang with previous warlord states, the first emperor of Song had reassigned Li Bing a lesser title and taken away his son's title altogether, reducing him to just "God of Guankou", and worshippers were quite disgruntled by the change; there was even a rebellion using the Guankou worship rituals to legitimize itself, a decade after said emperor's death.

Fun fact: when I went to the Two Lord’s Temple (of Li Bing and Li Erlang) in Dujiangyan, even though the god worshipped in the main hall was supposed to be Li Erlang, the plaque next to it still said something like "Li Erlang, also known as Yang Jian"...

Which really shows just how influential FSYY is on popular worship, to the point of overshadowing older incarnations of certain deities.

2. Immortal Master of Illustrious Sagacity, "Zhao Erlang"

Key words: Chief of Jiazhou Prefecture, dragon slayer, No.2 violator of archery safety (first place goes to Nezha)

Weapons: A scribing tablet, slingshot, sword, bow and arrows

Power: Supernatural strength, monstrous giant form

Pets: unnamed white horse, hunting hawks and hounds

"C'mon, my aim isn't that bad! What happened in the Zaju was a one-time thing!"

The prototypical Taoist Erlang, his name, "Zhao Yu"(赵昱) first appeared in a Song dynasty source. At this point, the story of Erlang was mainly defined by two traits: 1) was, or was related to an official in charge of Sichuan in bygone times and 2) Did heroic flood control stuff, probably through dragon-slaying.

One notable strand of local worship was the "God of Guankou"; historical records mentioned that people sacrificed hundreds and hundreds of goats to him, as well as a regional festival in Sichuan where people played out his confrontation with dragons. It coexisted and entwined with the "Lord of Sichuan" worship, until the Song dynasty.

In typical Song dynasty fashion, the officials decided to give their own official title to this...Erlang/Lord of Sichuan/God of Guankou guy, bringing our titular "Zhao Erlang" into existence.

Also a deified official from the Tang dynasty, his image was more heavily influenced by Taoism (historically popular in Sichuan) and centered around one of its holy places, Mt. Qingcheng, which just happened to be quite close to Dujiang Yan.

Though in the Northern Song dynasty, the state-recognized Erlang was still "Li Erlang", the Taoist Zhao Erlang had proven himself to be a strong competitor by the Southern Song and Yuan dynasty, thanks to a massive amount of opera plays.

First we have SJSSDQ (三教搜神大全, Yuan Dynasty), an encyclopedia of Buddhist, Taoist and Confucian gods, where his traditional backstory as an ascended mortal official was combined with the dragon-slaying feat to nudge Erlang toward a more warrior-esque image, a hunting god who appeared on a white horse with his entourage of hunters.

-We also got the first mention of what would become his six/seven sworn brothers; the "Seven Sages" who jumped into the water to assist him in the dragon fight.

Then we have two Yuan-Ming Zaju plays, "Erlang of Guankou Slays the Jian-jiao"(灌口二郎斩健蛟) and "Erlang Drunkenly Shot the Demon-locking Mirror" (二��神醉射锁魔镜), in which many traits associated with JTTW's Yang Erlang could already be seen: first, his three-pronged weapon, seven brothers and bow/arrows, second, the naming of his brothers as the "Seven Sages of Mt. Mei" and his ability to shift into a "true form", aka the monstrous giant form he used in JTTW.

(The plot of the second Zaju is exactly like it sounds: Erlang and Nezha had a drunken archery competition, accidentally broke the Demon-locking Mirror and released the Bull Demon King + Hundred-Eyed Demon, and spent the rest of the play doing damage control.)

3. The Little Sage, "Yang Erlang" (JTTW)

Key words: Jade Emperor's nephew, cleaver of Peach Mountain, SWK's true equal in battle

Weapons: Three-pronged, Double-bladed Spear, slingshot, bow and arrows, axe

Power: transformations, Cosmic Body, divine sight/Phoenix Eye(?)

Pets: a celestial Xiquan, literally "Thin Dog"

"First time we met, and that monkey made fun of my origins as a conversation opener. Could you believe it."

The Man, The Myth, The Legend! As I said before, a lot of his traits were inherited from "Zhao Erlang", including his Taoist title, his temple at Guankou, etc.

However, Erlang being Jade Emperor's nephew seemed to be mostly popularized by JTTW: the only other work that might have given Erlang this backstory was The Precious Scroll of Erlang, previously dated to the 1560s, though a Chinese paper published in 2018 proposed a later creation date (1620s).

Much like JTTW Nezha, his backstory was somewhat barebones: we knew from SWK's taunt that his mother was the Jade Emperor's sister, who got chummy with Yang the mortal, gave birth to him, and was presumably locked under the Peach Mountain for that, bc Erlang then rescued her by cleaving it in half with an ax.

(Sounds familiar? The same backstory would later be copied over to Erlang's nephew, in the Lotus Lantern legends)

His other notable feats include falling 2 phoenix with his slingshot, as well as slaying the "Seven Demons of Mt. Mei ''. Out of pride, he chose to remain in Guankou instead of associating with his heavenly relatives, and did not answer to general summons to court from the Jade Emperor, only taking special assignments (听调不听宣).

Apart from his famous fight with SWK, Erlang also appeared in JTTW chapter 63, where, together with his sworn brothers, he helped the pilgrims fight the Nine-Headed Wyrm, son-in-law of Bibo Lake's dragon king. His dog continues to be the MVP in this fight, biting off one of the demon's heads, leaving it wounded and fleeing toward the north sea.

Though the description of his battle with SWK implied that he did have some sort of supernatural sight, at this point in time (Ming dynasty), Erlang wasn't yet depicted with a third eye in artworks and literature.

There are a small amount of evidence that suggest the third eye thing might have shown up in statues of this period, though.

4. Master of the Ninefold Mystic Way, "Yang Jian" (FSYY)

Key words: Disciple of the Taoist sage Yuding, veteran of the Investiture War, Nezha's comrade-in-arms

Weapons: Three-pronged Spear, slingshot

Power: Ninefold Mystic Way, 72 transformations, invulnerable to physical attacks, Samadhi Fire (in FSYY it's on the same level as a D&D wizard's Fireball spell)

Pets: Howling Celestial Dog, unnamed white horse

"I fought a transforming monkey demon too!"

Fun fact: the guy whose name was most often taken as Erlang's "real name" by pop culture was never actually referred to as "Erlang" in his debut novel. Could ya believe it.

Quick, dirty summary of FSYY: kinda like the Chinese Iliad, about the overthrowing of Shang dynasty and its tyrannical King Zhou by King Wu of Zhou, with a dash of Taoist infightings, and almost everyone who died in the fight got revived as gods and became part of the celestial bureaucracy, thus "Investiture of the Gods".

Under the order of his master, the Taoist sage Yuding (literally "jade tripod"), Yang Jian makes his first cameo in chapter 40 to assist his senior, Jiang Ziya, in the fight against the Four Generals of Clan Mo.

A master in the arts of the Ninefold Mystic Way and 72 transformations, he has the same divine title as Zhao Erlang and is considered "A Sage in Flesh" after the end of FSYY.

As such, he's able to survive getting eaten by a monstrous weasel, a metal whip in the forehead, graphic disembowelment, etc. and used his transformation skills for some SWK-style "beating people up from inside their stomachs".

On one very notable occasion, he transformed into a beautiful palace consort to dupe Tu Xingsun ("Earth-traveling Son") and capture him.

Oh, and also, on his way to get Tu Xingsun's master, he ran into this random demon in a lake, who led him into a cave. After he got inside, the demon just disappeared, leaving him with the Three-pronged Two-bladed Spear, as well as some nice bling.

Then two kids burst in, accused him of stealing the bling, and...instantly became his students after learning his name? Yeah that was a weird sidequest.

However, Yang Jian's most iconic battle is probably his fight with Yuan Hong, the White Ape of Plum Mountain...who also practiced the Ninefold Mystics, used an iron cudgel, and were sworn brothers with six/seven demon kings.

Only with the help of Nvwa's magical painting, the Shanhe Sheji Scroll, was Yang Jian able to capture the ape, and subsequently, let Jiang Ziya decapitate him with Sage Luya's Immortal Slaying Flying Knife.

When the Three Demonesses were caught and executed at the end of the book, he was the one responsible for slaying the Nine-headed Pheasant Demoness, which is a neat parallel with JTTW.

His Howling Celestial Dog appears in chapter 47, and is even more of an MVP in fights: 12 immortals and demons have been bitten by this dog, which was "as large as a white elephant and as swift as an owl".

Funnily enough, every time Yang Jian summoned his hound, it is described in the same way as, say, other immortals may summon a flying sword, and my mental image is just him yeeting his giant monster dog at the enemy like you'd throw a Pokeball.

(A list of everyone Xiaotian had bitten in FSYY: Zhao Gongming, his sister Bixiao, Xinhuan, Deng Chanyu, Zhou Xin, Hua Huan, the Winged Immortal, Yuyan, Lv Yue, Yu Hualong, Dai Li the dog demon, the Nine-headed Pheasant Demon.)

Conclusion:

-The way I see it: Li is the Erlang of regional worship, Zhao is the Erlang of Zaju plays, and Yang is the Erlang of vernacular novels, who becomes super popular and overshadows his two predecessors.

-And Erlang's depiction in premodern Lotus Lantern tales is what we in the business call "a whole new can of worms". But that's a series for another day.

#erlang shen #chinese mythology #chinese folklore #journey to the west #investiture of the gods #fengshen yanyi #xiyouji #yang jian

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normal-horoscopes · 2 years

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while a lot of nazis are occultists (and a lot of occultists are nazis) im pretty sure its also exaggerated by xians who want to think the nazis were all weirdo devil worshippers and deny that it was at all compatible with their religion

I will say, it's hard to over-exaggerate how into the occult a lot of Nazis were. Himmler was straight up doing evil rituals in a creepy German castle. The thing that Clarke is specifically exploring in his book is WHY they were into the occult. His point is "yeah these assholes were obsessed with magic, but it wasn't because they were possessed by demons, it was actually the result of a complex but traceable series of sociopolitical pressures."

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comick · 6 months

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A commission for @Vintagedolliette Who requested a drawing of Idolatry, The demon of Mass Consumerism from my comic series In The Dark, and their OC Dahlia, who is half angel/human singing him a tune. Considering Idolatry is always looking for more ways to use cuteness as a means of gaining more worshippers, I can see him probably taking notes so he can use this for the next big viral Happy Kawaii Cat plush release (now with singing action).

Idolatry (c) belongs to Crystal Gonzalez - In The Dark

Dahlia (c) belongs to Vintagedolliette - Deviantart

#idolatry #demon #inthedark #inthedarkcomics #happykawaiicat #dahlia #angel

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martiwikiwiocwiki · 16 days

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Series: BELLADONNA WOODS Name: Prince Warm Wind of Beltane Gender: cis man (he/him) Race: half-human half-elf Age: around his 20s Sexual orientation: homosexual Alignment/Covenant: Neutral Good/Demon worshippers Special trait: Depression (testing and regulating medication). Former smoker (quitted for his brother's health). --- Job: Spy disguised as prince of the Church of Twilight Weapon of choice: long sword and round shield. Magic: Moonlite miracles LV 3 Special skill: Dreaming oracle, he can rarely dream of visions of the future. --- Enjoys: collecting rings, being alone in the woods, live concerts Hates: himself --- Story: Beltane is a demon worshipper spy infiltrated in the Church of Twilight along with his younger brother in order to politically control the covenant. His younger brother Song is everything to him and loves that child to insane limits despite of having arguments with him every once in a while. In his worst version, he can manipulate anyone to get anything he wants no matter how and enjoys it, but in the bottom of his heart he deeply cares about everyone and wants to work on being a better person. He hates being a prince with all his heart and likes day-dreaming about running away with his brother to the Elven Kingdom and enrolling to the bard school together. Maybe that's the real reason why he is after the unknown elven knight who talks to the fairies in the Belladonna Woods, not only they're hot, but also may be his chance to start anew...

Main series: BELLADONNA WOODLANDS (wip) DEMON WORSHIPPER (still a script) Also: SLOW TENDER SAMHAIN STORY [Ko-fi] QUEER DETECTIVES [Ko-fi] ELLIS (featured as Ko's elder bro) [Comicfury]

#martiwikiwi's oc #oc #BELLADONNA WOODLANDS series #DEMON WORSHIPPERS series #SLOW TENDER SAMHAIN STORY series #QUEER DETECTIVES series #ELLIS series

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midnightstarshadow · 7 months

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can i hear about your god au?

Yes, you may, and I am now going to ramble about it :D

I'm gonna turn it into a series of fics soon (It's called Breaking Prophecies and Fulfilling Them) so if you don't want lore spoilers, you can wait, I guess .w.

So basically, the God of Knowledge (Sci, because whenever something goes wrong, people go to him) has the ability to know about the future and he doesn't like spitting out prophecies because people tend to hyper-fixate on them

I mean, just look at Bruno from Enchanto and you'll understand how he feels

But when Sci gets startled, the prophecies tend to slip out and in this AU, there are two main prophecies

Darkness will rise and be purged by the Sun's chosen

Darkness is not good, obviously, and the Gods would like it if their worshippers were not threatened because they need to draw their power from somewhere

However, Sci accidentally lets another prophecy slip when he hears the God of Fear (Nightmare, obviously) has some fun with a mortal (Killer) and gives birth to a demi-god

The Sun's chosen will be deterred from defeating the darkness by the child of the moon

Crescent realizes the other gods don't like him except he doesn't know it's because of his prophecy since Nightmare didn't tell him and thinks it's because of his mortal lineage :(

So he goes to the mortal realm with the God of Marriage and Fertility's help (Lust, who treats him like a grandson) and meets Cross, a demon who has been raised in slavery

Cross was beginning to lose hope in the Gods because he kept praying for one of them to help him get free from this mistreatment and did not receive an answer until Crescent came along and helped him, inadvertently preventing Cross's villain backstory

Cross no longer has a reason to be mad at the Gods (as he thinks Crescent is a minor one because he recognizes the language he speaks as the gods' language, even if he can't understand it) and instead wants to pay back Crescent's help by serving him because that is what he was raised to do, after all, and Crescent is good to him, unlike the people he has served in the past

Crescent does not realize that Cross is attempting to serve him and thinks that they're friends now, which he is very happy about because who doesn't want friends?

They later meet Swap, a priest who was given a mission by the God of Joy (Dream, of course) to kill a very specific demon

Swap eventually realizes this demon is Cross, but is very confused because Cross doesn't seem very hostile unless you threaten Crescent, which Swap would never plan on doing because that's not who he is and even if it was, he also thinks Crescent is a fully-fledged God and no priest wants to get on a God's bad side

He starts ignoring Dream's wishes to kill Cross, telling him that he won't kill someone who has done no harm to anyone which in turn confuses Dream because this demon is literally prophecied to attempt to destroy the world

He then begins to look into things and once he realizes what's going on, he thinks it's the funniest thing ever and waits for the other gods to figure out what's happened

Meanwhile, Nightmare's looking for his son who has apparently become an adventurer

This entire AU hinges on a bunch of silly misunderstandings, none of which are actually harmful because we all need a little crack treated seriously in our lives sometimes :3

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acewithapaintbrush · 2 years

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Ghost Files AU with Steve and Eddie (Steddie or platonic).

The series happened like it did but Eddie survived of course.

After everything, Eddie becomes morbidly obsessed with all things supernatural and researches supposed haunted houses and stuff. Kind of a case of "I'm super scared of it so I have to know everything about it so maybe I won't be so scared of it anymore". During his research he stumbles upon Hans Holzer and soon decided that the dude is the most metal ghost researcher of all time. One day he gets the idea to go check out haunted places with a camera and a voice recorder just like his idol. But he is way too scared to go alone.

Steve claims he only comes with because he doesn't want Eddie to rope Henderson into his bullshit ("The kids need to concentrate on school, Munson!"), but in reality he likes spending time with the guy and even though he doesn't believe in ghosts, Steve knows how unsafe some old houses can be and Eddie is now part of his party so of course he's gonna look out for him.

Because that's the thing: While Eddie now wholeheartedly believes in ghosts and demons and stuff, Steve does not. He knows other dimensions and demons and people with special abilities exist. But he draws the line at ghosts! And anyway, if you have dealt with the Upside Down and Vecna and everything for years, nothing much scares you anymore. Definitely not Caspar the (un)friendly ghost.

So while Eddie definitely has big Ryan energy (every noise and creak scares the shit out of him and convinces him there is a ghost), Steve is just casually following behind him with his bat over his shoulder (for intruders and psychopaths that might camp in these houses, not for ghosts) just vaguely amused and endeared by his friend's antics, but mostly bored.

The only time when he is genuinely attentive and observant is when there is the mention of a demon or portals to hell. Then his eyes get sharp and the grip on his bat goes a little tighter.

This is before the internet, but the party watches those VHS tapes and listens to the audio tapes and like the little gremlins they are, they share them with others. Soon enough copies are circulating (Robin even distributes them under the table at Family Video when Steve is not looking) and almost all of Hawkins is aware of the ghost hunting pair. Rumors are flying around, like why is Eddie so convinced ghosts exist and why does Steve believe in demons but not in ghosts and oh God that one house was so scary how could Steve stay so unbothered???

There is also quite a bit of amusement about Eddie, the guy who was accused of summoning Satan and being a murderer, being so scared of creaks and noises. No one can act that good, the guy really is scared. How could anyone think he is a devil worshipper? The videos have the added effect of rehabilitating him which is one of the big reasons why Steve doesn't put up too much of a fuss about them being shared with the whole town.

People are talking and theorizing. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve just enjoy their little road trips to haunted places all over America every couple weeks.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things hc #st headcanons #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie headcanon #ghost files

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dailycharacteroption · 9 hours

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Deity Drop 7: Chavazvug

Out of our vacation with the monitor demigods and we immediately hop back into fiends, starting with our first of a truly nasty, but actually interesting lot, Chavazvug of the qlippoth lords!

For those who aren’t aware, the Outer Sphere forms the outer shell of the cosmos of the Pathfinder setting, with the various outer planes like Hell, Heaven, Axis, and so on forming along that inside edge.

However, if we liken the Outer Sphere to an eggshell, that begs the question of what is outside of that egg, and what to do with the big fracture on one side.

Indeed, the plane of the Abyss is a series of chasms and cracks not unlike the shell of a hard boiled egg that has bounced a little too hard on the counter. It is possible that the vast rifts of the plane were all burrowed by Rovagug, or fractured as a result of him entering the cosmos as a whole.

Either way, before the advent of mortal sin and demons, it was the qlippoth that ruled the Outer Rifts. Indeed, they are among the oldest outsiders, and may very well have originally wormed their way into the rifts from the outside, making them originally denizens of whatever madness and unreality exists beyond the pocket of stability that the cosmos represents.

It’s impossible to say what the qlippoth were like in those early times, or indeed what their relatives outside reality are like now, but we do know they are all alien and inimical to the laws of reality we all know and accept in the most disturbing and hazardous ways.

What’s more, with the coming of demon-kind, these ancient spirits were overwhelmed by the sin-spawned fiends and driven back into the deepest depths of the plane. Whatever goals the qlippoth had before, they were all unified (as much so as chaotic evil beings can be) against the demon threat, but also against the fuel source that gave rise to their hated foe: mortals, who with their free will have the capacity to sin and thereby feed the abyss new souls to be converted into more of their fecund opposition. As such, every qlippoth hates demons, and they seek to destroy mortals as well in some hope of reclaiming their home plane by starving demons of sinful souls.

And the qlippoth lords are the greatest among their kind, powerful monstrosities of unique form and bordering on divine power, allowing them to grant power to worshippers. However, qlippoth lords care nothing for mortal worshippers save for their use in summoning forth their lesser kin to devour the mad cultists first and anyone else they can get their claws on next until banished or put down.

These minor divinities have to be careful though, for more than one of their kind has gotten too popular with mortalkind and become infused with enough mortal sin to transition in nature to a demon lord, making them traitors to their own kind.

However, even with those goals, each qlippoth lord’s methods are different, and such is the case with today’s subject: Chavazvug.

While other qlippoths hate demon-kind and mortals with equal passion, Chavazvug leans most of his hatred upon the demons first and foremost, and constantly raids against them, rising from his boiling lake home to range far and wide in the Abyss on suicidal runs destroying as many demons as possible until finally someone manages to put him down, only for him to return all too soon to do so again, a constant thorn in the side of demon lords and wicked gods of the Abyss that must be dealt with at least once a week on average.

Make no mistake though, Chavazvug is no ally of mortals. Chavazvug is something you see coming while on the Abyss and flee from hoping that you’re out of his perceptive range by the time he’s done slaughtering the demons that attracted his attention in the first place.

Chavazvug is also known as the Crawling Inferno, an appropriate name because, despite looking like a 50 foot tall pile of organs atop a set of seven spidery legs, the fiend demonstrates the classic qlippoth trait of defying logic by also being constantly superheated to the point where such organs should surely combust, but do not. Indeed, the horror constantly steams with their extreme heat, can spew superheated acid from every horrible orifice, and the very sight of their horrible form induces feverish discomfort that can cause even fire elementals to become susceptible to their burning.

If Chavazvug can be said to have a home, it is a nameless lake of boiling bile and other foul seepage, from which they emerge each time they rejuvenate. However, he spends no time there, only ever leaving it to lay waste to the parts of the Outer Rifts where demons rule. If there is a secret to putting him to rest permanently, it may lie in it’s depths.

Having no care to establish cults of mortals, the majority of The Crawling Inferno’s worshippers are solitary pyromaniacs that revel in destruction and hope to one day spontaneously combust (not by their own deliberate action, but as a final glorious reward for emulating their deity). However, as Chavazvug is also concerned with monstrous recursion and rejuvenation, I can imagine some cults of his might crop up with him as a patron to those that come to believe that being reborn as horrible monsters through some curse or corruption to be a form of apotheosis.

It is unknown what exactly Chavazvug thinks about other divinities beyond his seething hatred for demonkind. He probably also hates all other evil divinities purely because their presence inevitably spreads sin even if they seek to bring souls to other planes or personal realms far from the Abyss. If he spares any thought for goodly or neutral divinities beyond them getting in the way of the qlippoth goal of mortal and demon annihilation, it is unknown. (He’s not exactly the most talkative mountain of meat).

As his personal crusade against demonkind is constant and solitary, Chavazvug probably doesn’t consider any other qlippoth to be his servants, but it’s likely that he has attracted a fanclub of sorts that follow in his wake to pick off stragglers and survivors of his rampages, and answer the call of would-be summoners seeking his servants in hopes of overpowering lesser mages to go on a rampage.

Though not inclined to offer divine magic except as a side effect of worship, The Crawling Inferno does grant access to the Chaos, Evil, Fire, and Repose domains, with the Ash, Entropy, Smoke, ad Souls subdomains, all of which reflects not just his fiery nature, but also a constantly reviving destroyer that destroys fiend and mortal soul alike.

No qlippoth lords have been explored in 2E yet, so Chavazvug has no stats there quite yet.

He does have a lesser obedience though. For those that torture a living creature with brands and meditate on the results, the worshipper gains some measure of protection from fiery effects. Furthermore, they also are blessed with a few minor spells, namely those that inflect fiery harm either simply, in a following pillar of flame, or a spreading array of burning beams.

Curiously, qlippoths have not been mentioned AT ALL in Starfinder, and while they almost certainly do exist, this does mean we have no word on Chavazvug’s status in the far future. Presumably he is still around though, waging his continuous bloody crusade and inspiring monstrous pyromaniacs and maybe even evil evolutionists.

That does it for today, but tomorrow we tackle a different sort of evil, one that got a little bit revised late into 1st edition!

#pathfinder #deity #Chavazvug #qlippoth lord #Inner Sea Gods #Book of the Damned

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kuroneko1815 · 1 year

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Time and Despair

Snippets from Time and Despair. Part of my planned series for Time and Regret. It’s an angst piece, I guess. Some mentions of suicide. Some hints of PJO universe and Greek-Roman mythology.

Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. She thought as she desperately tried to quell this despair and loneliness inside her. If she had known that she would ascend anyway, she would rather have accepted the Gods request to join their ranks while she was in her world. While she had the chance to be tied to that world forevermore. She wanted to die. Wanted the sweet oblivion that awaited her in death. Wanted to forget these lonely eons lived. Wanted to be back at Camp with her friends. Wanted to go home to Long Island.

Her friends in this new world had died so long ago. One after another. Leaving behind their descendants turned worshippers. Golden blood, ichor, bled from her rapidly healing wound. Sapphira came to her with Eruhaben at her side. These two dragons, little hatchlings, her friends. Children of her long dead friend. Children she had raised with all the love and care she had in her.

“Do you really want to leave us, Thea?” Sapphira asked, ruby eyes staring at her with so much sadness.

She raised her hands to them and they grasped one each, holding it to their cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She said. “I’m so tired, so alone. Humans weren’t meant to live like this.”

“I can’t understand it.” Eruhaben said, a frown on his face, golden eyes forlorn.

“I hope you never do but one day, you may just grow weary.” She kissed his forehead. “Take care of one another when I’m gone.”

“We will.” They echoed.

And then she glanced at her attendants, her priests and priestesses. “And take care of my people, they’ll serve you in my stead.”

“Yes, Goddess.”

She felt assured and motioned them away, mind calmer. Her death pushed back for another day by her children. They were still too young, barely past their first century. Maybe in another century or so. She nodded to herself. And then… she would shatter, cast her mortal soul into oblivion or reincarnation, and force whatever consciousness she had left into deep slumber. Regardless, Althea would soon cease to exist.

She remembered red and warmth, love and safety. Remembered kind hands and gilded walls. But she and Mother Suzanna could never find it. It was never right. Even when she took her new father’s hands, it wasn’t the same. Like a mockery where red was pink, where roses bloomed rather than the safety of a turtle’s shell, where warmth and safety were traded for cruelty and abuse. But she tried to make the best of it, really, she did.

No matter how hard she tried though, she was always the fake. They were all fake too. She worked so hard and had nothing to show for it, could never compare to a ghost who wasn’t a ghost but a demon and she died.

But then she awoke. She tried. She died. She woke. The torment never ending and the turtle never far away from her mind.

Penelope felt herself shatter, never finding that warmth again. She welcomed that oblivion.

Siyeon felt tired of having to be alert all the time. She wanted to be back with Roksoo. Her cousin was the only one who cared for her with Mother gone. She hated her brothers, she hated her father. She wanted to be back in that apartment, shitty as it was, it had been home. A home that she and her cousin had made. Memories seeped into her mind, were those Penelope’s deaths? The poor thing.

She wakes up most nights gasping in terror. Hands going to her neck, her face, her heart. Everywhere she had been injured to kill as Penelope. Hopelessness and despair filled her especially when Callisto told her that he didn’t love her. Love? Fine. There was no need for love. Then Yvonne comes and death comes with it. She buys the poison, writes a letter goodbye to her father, and one to Callisto. Emily’s she has hidden somewhere she knows only Emily will find. Her maid will be the one to present it.

But then… poison in Yvonne’s cup, the necklace glows. She accepts it and drinks it instead. Let herself die. But it hurts and her Prince is there, holding her, begging her to live. The red of her blood reminds her of something else. Warmth and love. She thinks of mother and Roksoo.

Then she wakes up, another set of memories play in her. This… she and her prince were lovers in true? But the queasiness returns. Some sort of elation and trepidation as she sneaks out and seeks a doctor who confirms what she knows. Pregnant. Surely… would her Prince be happy?

‘He didn’t love you then. He doesn’t love you now. He didn’t believe you. He’s only using you, only wants the Eckart backing.’ Her treacherous mind whispers.

She’ll see him tomorrow and tell him then. He’ll be happy. She tries to assure herself.

But then he chases her, sword drawn, blood flowing down as she runs desperately. Whatever Gods are listening please save my baby. Emily holds her as their escape is blocked and she finds darkness as the world falls away.

Siyeon wakes up to warmth and red. To loving browns and golden turtles. What she has been searching for in all of her lives. Roksoo is by her side as her twin and her heart sings. Her baby is born beautiful and so perfect. Her little golden dragon. Ruby eyes stare at her blearily. Happiness. She was at peace and so in love with this little life in her arms. Her Judith.

Her memories of herself as Siyeon changed with Cale’s words. Herself in a coma. Waking up in the hospital. A new apartment with her cousin. Travelling. The voices warning her that something was happening while she was at a dig. The Cataclysm. Sacrificing herself. Waking up as Penelope.

Then, war and a hunt. A return to Eorka. To see him. The pain nothing more than a dull sting.

Then… dying, she’s dying. Her choked laugh escapes her. Penelope cried. Please stop killing me. She thought as she realized that one of them had inevitably killed her again.

She dies, surrounded by love with her only regret that her daughter would grow up without her.

And then she awakens, memories of the last loop fresh in her mind, still the same this time around but so different. She cries, bursting into tears at finding herself in this hell once more…

What did you guys think? Should I make this longer and flesh it out? If I did, it will probably be three chapters long, one for each life.

#death is the only ending for a villainess #vadd #villains are destined to die #callisto regulus #death is the only ending for the villainess #penelope eckart #fic ideas #penelope eckart x callisto regulus #penelope x callisto #fanfic #angst

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mrmsprotagonist · 1 year

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Silly batim au (Joey Drew Studios: For Hire)

I plan to make more about it and possibly a series

The au goes as follows: a focus on the beginning of the company as insanity ensues and then the games happen

Other changes important to the picture are that Audrey is related to Henry and Sammy hangs around Audrey and baby benders cuz why wouldnt he as a demon worshipper??

#art #artwork #batim #batdr #batdr art #audrey batdr #batim au #sammy lawrence #batim sammy #batdr bendy

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elm-writes-stories · 10 months

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Cuphead: Isle of Shadows(Rewrite)

*Hey guys! I'm back with another episode for Cuphead: Isle of Shadows rewrite. I seriously love doing this series so far. This is published on July 22, 2023. If you all like this episode, don't be afraid to heart it, reblog, and spam the comment section! That would be appreciated! Enjoy!*

Episode Five: Nightmare on Forest Street

“Are you sure you want to bring Melvin here?” Jack Cat asked while working in the secret lab somewhere in the middle of the city late at night with his best friend, Murray Cup.

“Yeah, Lily Rose has Cooper,” Murray said, carrying baby Mugman in his baby carrier strapped on him. “Elder Kettle is out to do his weekly mustache wax or whatever he's got going on.”

“Doesn’t he do it in the mornings though?” Jack asked.

Murray chuckled a bit. “I guess. I’m not sure how long his mustache wax usually take.”

“You should,” Jack teased. “You guys were in the military together.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just don’t pay attention.”

“Ha, figures,” Jack said while writing down the ingredients. His red fur stood on its end when he came to discover something odd about the potion they were making. “Are you sure that this is going to prevent Tremaine from getting inside of people?”

“If used before being injected with Tremaine, yeah,” Murray stated in a matter-of-factly tone. Murray looked down and noticed baby Mugman staring at the potions with some interest. “See something shiny, Melvin?”

Baby Mugman tried to reach for the potions to drink it with a little whine, but Murray moved his baby away from the potions.

“These are not drinks. Unless you want to explode after drinking one of them,” Murray said with a chuckle.

“Seems your son is interested in science,” Jack said, predicting baby Mugman’s movements. “My daughter is more of a reading type. That kid tried to read before even knowing how to talk.”

“Well, maybe that’s her way of learning how to talk,” Murray replied with a tease.

Jack nodded his head. “At least, Shayna has Porkrind to talk to about all of this. I know I ain’t home often enough to help her through it.”

“You’re not thinking that she, um…?”

“What?! No! I trust Shayna. And I’ve met Porkrind before and he seems like a good guy, so I trust him.”

“You know that they dated once, right?”

“Oh, I know that. Shayna and I don’t keep secrets from each other,” Jack said.

“Except you being here.”

“No, she knew that too. She knew that’s the reason why I come home late. She knew why I’m doing this. But I think she doubts that a cure from Tremaine is going to stop this hatred of our kind.”

“Hey, we’re going to find a cure for Tremaine…then everyone here won’t hate you and your species,” Murray reassured his friend.

“But it’s more than that. It wasn’t just the Tremaine outbreak. Hunter had hired designers to make some awful things about us, creating stereotypes that only makes their hatred grow. Like this!” Jack showed a poster that had the red-furred felines with horns and spiked fur, dancing around the pit of fire like demons worshipping the Devil with the words in bold white letters that said "Stop the demons".

“It’s no wonder people tend to think we’re some kind of Devil worshippers.”

“That looks…really bad,” Murray uttered, speechless.

Jack sighed. “I’m afraid for Shayna and Cassidy. I’m afraid that they will get killed eventually and I won’t be there to protect them. I don’t think this cure will stop the growing hatred of my kind.”

Murray placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That’s why you’re getting all the credit for this. Despite all the bad things that those posters show, you did one good thing. A big one, in fact.”

Jack shook his head, doubting Murray’s plan. “Murray—”

“There they are!”

Murray and Jack whirled around and saw a few hooded figures stomping into the secret lab. Murray managed to grab the potions secretly before hiding it his pockets in his slacks. Hunter stormed into the lab with a glare at both of the men.

“You got some nerve working on a cure,” Hunter growled.

Jack stepped between Murray and Hunter, also protecting Baby Mugman. “You need to stop this madness, Hunter. Before it’s too late—”

Before Jack could try to calm the situation down, Hunter pulled out a gun and shot Jack in the chest. Jack covered his bloody chest and collapsed onto the floor.

Baby Mugman cried in fear from the sound of a gunshot while Murray covered his son’s eyes to not see the bloody display of his best friend laying on the floor.

Murray didn’t have time to grieve for his best friend because he knew him and his son were next to the slaughter. No, he wouldn’t let them be next. Murray hurried out the door before Hunter could shoot him.

Hunter growled, showing his fangs. “After him!”

The two hooded assassins followed instructions and went after Murray and baby Mugman.

Hunter looked over at Jack, who was gasping for breath. The tiger glanced around at the assassins. “Rile up the angry mob. Have them kill every one of his species. Make sure not one of those red cats is left alive.”

The assassins nodded their heads and stormed out of the lab.

Hunter looked back down at Jack, who was struggling to survive. With a smirk, Hunter crouched down to get a closer look on Jack’s terrified expression when he realized that his family was in danger.

“Too bad you couldn’t save your precious family,” Hunter replied with a menacing chuckle. “But don’t worry, your wife and child will soon join you.”

Jack drew out his last breath.

Hunter stood up on his feet and headed out of the lab, leaving Jack’s body there to rot.

~.~

Fifteen years later:

It had been a couple of days since Hunter sent Bowlboy out to get Tremaine inside of Cuphead…or what Dice was assuming was Cuphead. However, Dice could tell that something was off with Hunter. Either because Hunter whispered something to Bowlboy that wasn’t part of the plan or…maybe Hunter wanted Bowlboy to do something more unforgivable than inject Tremaine into the cup’s body.

Dice gasped to see Bowlboy returning back to the Night Stalkers camp with a more guilty look on his face. Devil, Henchman, and Stickler noticed as well and walked over to Bowlboy.

Hunter smirked and walked over to the bowl. “Did you do it?”

“Yeah,” Bowlboy said without sounding sinister or maniacal like usual. Dice thought that Bowlboy somehow saw something that traumatized him more than any words could express. “What did I just inject into Mugman?”

“Mugman?!” Devil gasped in shock. “You’re supposed to get Cuphead! Not Mugman, you idiot!”

Hunter watched Devil stormed into the tent with Henchman and Stickler following him inside. But Dice stayed outside.

Hunter nodded his head with a smirk. “You better run…”

Dice sighed in discouragement and was about to head into the tent until—

“But you said to get Mugman,” Bowlboy pointed out.

Dice froze and looked over at Hunter and Bowlboy.

“I said…run,” Hunter growled, his hand gripping the gun.

Without another word, Bowlboy zoomed away from the Night Stalkers camp. Hunter turned around and looked at Dice, who stared at him with an arched brow.

“What are you really planning, Hunter?” Dice asked with a growl.

Hunter only smiled coyly. “You’ll soon see, Kingsley. You’ll soon see.”

Dice was offended when Hunter called his real name. Before he could snap at the tiger, he could see the intention of using that name in the tiger’s eyes. Should Dice be afraid of Hunter? He watched Hunter entered the tent, passing by him.

Dice needed to find Bowlboy and find out what exactly was going on, but he couldn’t do that if Devil knew he was gone. He had to pick a good time to take off and find Bowlboy.

~.~

Mugman had been blacked out for a couple of days and Cuphead could only stare at his brother on the bottom bunk bed near the door. Cuphead refused to get out of the room no matter how many times Elder Kettle would try to tempt him with ice cream or sweets. What happened the other day to his brother really affected Cuphead’s mood and sweet tooth. Cassidy would also come in and stare at Mugman almost a few hours a day, praying silently to herself that Mugman would be okay.

Cassidy came in today and sat next to Cuphead, watching Mugman sleep for a little while.

“Is Mugman okay?” Cassidy asked softly.

Cuphead could only shrug as an answer, earning a sad sigh from the red feline.

They heard footsteps and Cassidy looked up to find Chalice and Natalie entering the room.

“How’s Mugsy doin’?” Chalice asked both Cuphead and Cassidy.

“Is he gonna wake up?” Natalie questioned. “It’s been a couple of days.”

“I-I don’t know,” Cassidy stuttered. “I hope he wakes up soon.”

Chalice looked at Mugman laying on the bed and then back at Cassidy with a soft smile. “Hey, Cassi, I might need your help with something. You know, watching over Aurora and all.”

“Sure,” Cassidy said and stood up from her seat. She looked at Natalie, who stared at Mugman sadly.

Cassidy rubbed her arm nervously and walked past Natalie, following Chalice out of the room.

Natalie glanced down at Cuphead softly. “You feelin’ okay, shorty?”

“I ain’t short,” Cuphead droned.

Natalie smiled that she got a response from Cuphead. She sat next to him and watched Mugman sleep with Cuphead. “Um…I wanna thank you for, um, saving my sister the other day.”

Cuphead perked his head up and looked over at her with a tiny blush. “Oh, uh, it’s nothin’.”

Natalie frowned. “Well, it’s somethin’ to me. Sooo…thank you.”

Cuphead nodded his head. “No problem.”

There was silence for a moment until Cuphead thought of something that led him biting down his wobbling bottom lip. Natalie noticed it and wasn’t sure whether to ask him or not until—

“It’s all my fault,” Cuphead admitted.

Natalie tilted her head. “Your fault? How?”

“Mugman kept me alive when I owed the Devil my soul. He knitted the invisible sweater for me to protect me. I mean, he always has my back no matter what. He was my best friend and my brother all in one. And I…oh, nevermind, I bet you don’t want to hear a peasant’s rambling.”

Natalie softened her gaze and then looked down when she remembered how she met Cuphead and called him a peasant. Well, Cuphead was a peasant compared to her and her family, but a part of her felt…bad for some reason for calling him that.

“Aurora is like my best friend and my sister all in one too,” Natalie said, trying to relate to Cuphead. “I’d do anything to protect her from everything going on now. I guess Mom kind of left us and probably didn’t come back for us when the Night Stalkers situation happened.”

Cuphead turned to Natalie with an upset look. “Did she forget about you both?”

“Probably…or maybe she couldn’t go home…I like to think the best of her sometimes…but either way, Aurora and I are left to fend for ourselves…I can’t believe we’re in a situation where anyone now could find us and kill us. Like, look what happened to Mugman. Someone insane must have injected something into Mugman that caused him to be like this.”

Cuphead frowned at the reminder of what happened a couple of days. “Yeah…has Aurora told you what happened or what she saw before Mugman attacked her?”

Natalie shook her head. “She’s too shaken up to even tell me what happened…”

“I don’t blame her. I’m still shaken up too,” Cuphead said admittingly.

Natalie looked back at Mugman. “Yeah, me too.” She sighed and looked at Cuphead. “I know Mugman means a lot to you. But…why do you blame yourself for all of this? It ain’t your fault Mugman ended up like this.”

“It is…” Cuphead said sadly. “Long story short, I lost a game at the Devil’s carnival and owed him my soul and Mugman made sure that my soul was in tact until that contract was expired. I could’ve just live and let be if I knew my soul contract was expired after thirty days. Then I saw the Devil’s pitchfork and we were just horsin’ around. Devil showed up and demanded it back, but I was such a dummy that I didn’t give it back to him…so…he took Mugman. Mugman hadn’t been the same since Devil kidnapped him. Heck, Mugman wouldn’t even tell me what happened down there.”

Cuphead’s lips wobbled while tears edged out of his eyes. “Then the Night Stalkers came after us, Mugman is injected with whatever that thing was, and-and now I don’t know when he will ever wake up. I never thought Mugman would ever get hurt because he kept me alive for so long…I-I didn’t think Mugman would be the target. I-I didn’t think that Mugman would get hurt like this. I-I should have never taunted Devil…I should have never gone into that stupid carnival. I should’ve stopped while I was winning that stupid game. But I didn’t…I was so focused on winning big! I-I just—” That was when Cuphead broke down crying in front of Natalie, who seemed confused as to know what to do.

Natalie frowned to see Cuphead like this.

“If it weren’t for me…Mugman would never get hurt. Mugman wouldn’t have to save me every time,” Cuphead whimpered, wiping the tears away. “I-I’m such an idiot. I wish-I wish I could take back everything I did. I wish I could take back those stupid words I said before Devil abducted Mugsy…I-I wish…I-I wish…”

Cuphead’s body stopped shaking once Natalie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Should’ve. Would’ve. Could’ve,” Natalie replied softly but firmly. “Your brother needs you now more than ever, just as much as you need him. And now with whatever is going on inside of Mugman, he definitely needs you to help him during this really hard time. He needs you, Cuphead. You can look back and think of all the things you should’ve or shouldn’t have done, but the reality is that Mugman would think the same for you as a brother and a best friend. So be his brother and best friend that he needed right now.”

Cuphead calmed down a bit and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. Those words felt like a slap in the face, but in a good kind of way.

“Thanks, Natalie, I needed that,” Cuphead said with a blush.

Natalie smiled softly with a blush as well and nodded her head. They heard a knock at the door and they looked to see Elder Kettle and Cassidy peeking into the room.

“Hey, Cuphead, can I talk to you…alone?” Elder Kettle asked.

Cuphead looked at Natalie, who got up from her seat.

“I’ll, uh, go make sure Aurora is okay,” Natalie said while exiting out of the bedroom.

Cassidy rubbed her arm nervously once again. “I can look over Mugman and make sure if he’s okay.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Cassidy,” Elder Kettle said. “You can’t be too careful nowadays.” He shifted his gaze at Cuphead. “There’s something I need to talk to you about…something I should’ve told you boys a long time ago.”

“What is it?” Cuphead questioned.

Elder Kettle gestured to Cuphead for him to follow the old tea kettle. Cuphead moved off of his seat reluctantly and left Cassidy to watch Mugman.

Cassidy sat in the seat Cuphead was sitting and frowned at the mug. “Stay strong, Mugman. Please, stay strong.”

~.~

Cuphead followed Elder Kettle into the room that Elder Kettle resided in. It was an old dusty room that had the picture of an old lady teapot on the empty wooden desk across from the bed.

“Shut the door, please,” Elder Kettle requested.

Cuphead did so as requested. “So…what’s going on?”

“It’s…It’s about your parents,” Elder Kettle finally admitted.

Cuphead widened his eyes. “You’ve never brought them up.”

“That’s why I’m bringing them up now,” Elder Kettle said while sitting on the bed. He patted on the spot next to him to gesture Cuphead to sit next to him. Cuphead did so and looked up at Cuphead in curiosity.

Elder Kettle took out a note and handed it to Cuphead. “It’s probably faded, but this was given to me when you both were dropped off on my porch.”

Cuphead squinted at the words. He was never the best reader but the words in the letter seemed easy to understand.

Dear old friend. Please take care of our boys, Cuphead and Mugman. They are our pride and joy that we must sadly give away for their safety. Do not be alarm when you see those two potions in the basket. These potions are our gift to the boys once they’ve grown old enough. The potions will protect the boys. Thank you, dear friend. We trust that they will be safer in your hands. Sincerely, Murray and Lily.

Cuphead blinked in disbelief of the letter. “Murray and Lily?”

“Those are the names of your parents,” Elder Kettle said.

Cuphead looked up at his caretaker. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Well…you see, I think I know what it is that Mugman has inside of him. It’s called Tremaine…it’s a chemical that causes people to become…how I should I say it? A monster. Your father tried to find a cure for Tremaine, but he only made these two potions for both you and your brother, hoping to prevent Tremaine from ever going inside of you both. Your father was a good man and he wanted nothing more than to keep you boys safe. I was suppose to give these to you once you boys were old enough…but…I guess fifteen years go by and there was no worry over Tremaine until…Mugman got injected with it.”

Cuphead frowned and tilted his head. “What’s gonna happen to Mugsy?”

“I’m not sure,” Elder Kettle answered sadly. “I mean, the potion was supposed to prevent Tremaine from going inside of him, not cure it. So…maybe it could prevent Tremaine from taking a complete hold of Mugman. I’m not sure how long that will last though. That’s why I wanted to give you the other potion.” Elder Kettle handed Cuphead the remaining potion. “This will protect you from Tremaine going inside of you if you take it before it does. I’m not sure what will happen, but I know that Tremaine will never get to you if you take a drink of the potion.”

Cuphead took the potion and frowned. “I wish Mugsy has the same opportunity.”

“I know. And I made the mistake in thinking that Tremaine is no longer existent. I won’t make that mistake with you,” Elder Kettle replied solemnly.

Cuphead stared at the potion in his hand. He looked up at Elder Kettle. “Elder Kettle, what…what were my parents like?”

Elder Kettle blinked and smiled warmly. “I think you got most of your father’s personality. Hehe, he was so reckless at your age. He likes to blow stuff up…kind of like you.”

Cuphead grinned and giggled at the thought of his father being like him.

“Your mother…well…I think Mugman has most of her personality. She’s protective over your father and you boys, wanting to make sure that you all were safe,” Elder Kettle said with a smile. “I’ve met both your parents while I was serving in the military. Your father was a soldier and your mother was a nurse. I don’t know how they hit it off, but they hit it off and once the war was over, your parents got married and had you boys. I wish they were here to see you boys grow up.”

Cuphead frowned and looked at the potion. He took a deep breath and popped the cap off. “Well…here’s to my parents then.” Cuphead raised it up like he was proposing a toast a bit. Elder Kettle watched his boy drinking the potion and taking a big gulp. Cuphead shook his head in disgust. “Ew, it tastes gross.”

Elder Kettle chuckled a bit. “It’s probably spoiled by now but it should work still-”

Without knowing, Cuphead’s fingers glowed blue and shot out of his hands before realizing what was happening. Elder Kettle ducked and covered for it once it blew up the table in front of him.

“Wow! That was an accident!” Cuphead shouted in fear.

“It’s okay. You were just given those powers. It might be a little hard to control them.”

Cuphead clenched his fists so that his fingers would randomly shoot out...this blue stuff. “Whoa...this is actually cool. Can I play with it?!”

“Well...if you are going to play with those newfound powers of yours, take it outside.”

“Wait, what about Mugsy? Will he be okay?”

“As long as someone is watching him, he’ll be fine.”

Cuphead opened his palms and looked at his hands with a bright smile. “Can’t wait to show Mugsy this.”

~.~

“Stay strong, Mugman. Please, stay strong.”

Mugman gasped and snapped his eyes open. He looked around to find that he was in a dark forest with a white fog around him. He couldn’t see what’s around him except for the dark willow trees rooted near him.

“Hello?” Mugman called while standing up from the ground. “HELLO?!”

His voice echoed through the dark forest, but no one responded.

Mugman frowned and rubbed his arms from the sudden cold. He was too afraid to move forward through any direction of the forest. What if they were ghosts? No, he wouldn’t have a nightmare about ghosts…right? Oh no, he thought he heard someone laughing maniacally. It was unfamiliar laugh.

“You little animal.”

Mugman tensed up once he felt someone’s presence behind him. Before Mugman could turn around and look at who it was, he was snatched by the arm. Mugman had time to look back to see a familiar tiger with green eyes grabbing him.

“You?!” Mugman recognized instantly. “L-Let go of me!”

The tiger threw Mugman across the forest and into the dark safe box. The door closed, leaving Mugman in crowded darkness.

“HEY! LET ME OUT!!” Mugman cried while slamming his feet against the door. “LET ME OUT!!! LET ME OUT!!! CASSIDY!! CUPHEAD!! ELDER KETTLE!! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!!”

He felt the walls closing in on him, squeezing him tightly.

“PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!” Mugman shouted until he soon realized that he was just dreaming of all this. He shut his eyes, hoping he will wake up back somewhere safe. When he reopened his eyes, it didn’t work. Mugman blinked a few more times, but it wasn’t working.

“Trying to wake up from this place?” the unfamiliar voice crooned. “Too bad your friends and family won’t be there to save you.”

“HEY!!! LET ME OUT!!! PLEASE!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE!!” Mugman cried, breathing heavily and tears streaming down his face. He felt paws grabbing his shoulders and yanking him back into the darkness through the wall behind him.

“I need something from you, Mugman. And you’re going to give it to me.”

The touch from the tiger’s paws burned into Mugman’s skin, causing Mugman to howl in pain.

“W-What do you want from me?!” Mugman screamed in agony.

“You were there when your father took those potions…what do you remember of that night?”

“W-What? What are you talking about?! I don’t even remember my own parents! LET ME GO!!”

“Oh, you do. It’s somewhere deep in your little liquid brain of yours.”

Mugman could feel his body burning up from the tiger’s grip. He could feel fur coming out of his porcelain body and his teeth sharpening. His vision turned orange and red while his fingertips grew claws.

“And I’m not going to stop until I get what I want,” the tiger growled.

“Whatever you want, you can have! I’m tellin’ ya! I don’t remember!” Mugman cried.

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

The tiger gripped to the side of Mugman’s head. Mugman screamed in more pain until he couldn’t anymore.

Mugman blinked and gasped once he stood in the living room of an unfamiliar house. Everything was a blur except for the crib. He walked over slowly to it and peeked over to find him and his brother sleeping in their crib together when they were babies.

“What the—?”

Mugman heard humming from the kitchen and turned to the humming sound. The hums came from the silhouette of a cup woman washing the dishes as Mugman tiptoed to the kitchen. He peeked in and noticed her. She was taller than he was with blonde liquid hair braided to the side. She had a skinny red handle on the back of her head along with a red dress that she wore a pink apron over. She seemed perfectly content with her life of having only two boys to raise.

Mugman recognized her instantly, tears forming in his eyes. “Mama…” He reached his hand out to touch her, hoping that she will turn around and recognize her own teenage son. But she was too far out of reach. He felt someone grabbing his handle, burning into his skin again.

“AAH!!” Mugman screamed in pain.

“Take me to the night where I killed your mother!”

“W-What?” Mugman uttered in tears.

“Come now, you do remember that night, don’t you?”

“N-No, I don’t!!! LET ME GO!!”

“You’re a liar.”

“I’m not! I’m not! Please, let me go!!”

“Not until you take me to that night—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The burn increased throughout the young mug’s body while Mugman cried in pain.

“MAMA!!” Mugman screamed in fear and agony.

Mugman blinked and was taken to another memory. The one where everything was all a blur except for his father. He watched his father running through the forest in the snow storm with the baby carrier attached to him. Mugman noticed his baby self crying in the baby carrier. Mugman might have witnessed something horrific when he was a baby. Why couldn’t he remember it? Mugman watched and saw a street sign…for some reason, it wasn’t blurred either.

“Forest Street?” Mugman uttered. “Why do I remember that?”

“Keep remembering,” the tiger’s voice growled behind him.

Mugman breathed heavily while following his father towards the unfamiliar cup house in the woods. His father entered the house and Mugman followed him. Mugman watched his mother turned around when his father entered the house.

“What’s going on?” Mugman’s mother asked.

“Remember what we talked about?” Mugman’s father questioned.

His mother shook her head. “No…”

“Yes, Hunter found out about t̸͚͗h̴̤͋e̷̺͛ ̷̬͠ċ̵̝ư̴ͅȓ̸͜e̴̖̓. He ḱ̶̺i̶͎̍l̵̳͠l̴͓͒e̶̙̚d̸̦̂ ̴͚̊J̵̨̈a̴̜̚c̷̙͊k̷͚̉ ̶͔̈́ and he’s coming for us! Take the boys to Elder Kettle. They’ll be safer with him!” Mugman’s father commanded while handing his wife the basket to put the babies.

Mugman’s mother shed a few tears before picking Mugman out of the baby carrier and placed him in the basket. Mugman watched with tears in his eyes while his mother put Cuphead in the basket. She covered the babies with the blanket and Mugman’s father hurried over and hid something strange in the basket. Mugman couldn’t see what it was and, frankly, he couldn’t see the two blue glowing lights either. What were those?

Mugman watched his parents hugging each other with the basket between them, earning sniffles and cries from baby Mugman and Cuphead.

“We’re so sorry,” Mugman’s mother sniffled while kissing the boys’ foreheads.

“So sorry,” Mugman’s father added, his voice croaked. They heard footsteps coming towards the door. His father glanced at his mother. “You know what to do.”

Mugman’s mother nodded her head tearfully.

“Don’t you remember what those potions were made of?! Do you even remember what happened before this?!”

Mugman felt the burning touch, causing him to scream in pain. “I told you! I don’t remember!!! Let me go!”

“You liar! I know your father would spill all the secret ingredients!”

“I WAS ONLY A BABY!!!” Mugman screamed at the tiger angrily. “I DON’T REMEMBER ANYTHING!!! AAAAAAHHH!!!”

He could hear a growl and grabbed Mugman’s arm again. This time, Mugman didn’t hesitate to bite down the tiger’s paw, causing Hunter to yelp in pain.

Mugman breathed heavily and witnessed someone kicking down the front door of the house. It…It was that tiger again…but he couldn’t see Mugman. Mugman gasped in shock and looked up at the tiger that was behind him before, but now…he disappeared.

“Go, Lily! Go!!!” Mugman’s father cried to Mugman’s mother named Lily.

Mugman watched his mother taking off through the back door while his father was fighting the tiger and the couple of assassins off. Everything was a blur after his mother left but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear the voices.

“Leave them alone!” Mugman’s father barked at the tiger.

“You know, Murray, you should’ve think before showing your little Melvin the secret ingredients,” the tiger snarled. The sound of the gunshot scared Mugman back out of the house. Everything shifted around him and Mugman breathed heavily in fear.

Mugman looked up and saw his mother, running up to Elder Kettle’s tea-pot house. Lily, Mugman’s mother, placed the basket on the porch and knocked on the door harshly and urgently. She hugged her two boys, Cuphead and Mugman. Mugman stepped closer to his mother and the basket and started to sob. Lily placed her last forehead kisses on their heads before whirling around to hear someone coming for them.

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said while running into the snow storm. She waved her hands to draw the attention of the hooded assassins and the tiger. She ran away from the tea-pot as far as she could to keep the boys and Elder Kettle safe. The hooded assassins and the tiger ran after her into the darkness.

Mugman heard the door opening and looked behind him to find Elder Kettle standing at the doorway. He looked down at the baby cups in shock.

“Oh my!” Elder Kettle gasped in shock and picked up the basket. He took the babies in immediately and shut the door.

Mugman stood out there in the snow, his tears streaming down his ceramic cheeks. He clenched his teeth to hold in his whimpering until he heard a gunshot from the distance. Mugman whirled around and tried to see what was going on out there.

Once he squinted, Mugman could see silhouettes of the assassins and the tiger dragging out his now dead mother. Mugman started to breath shakily, whimpering.

“M-MAMA!” Mugman screamed for her, but he knew that she couldn’t hear him. He collapsed on his knees and sobbed uncontrollably, mourning at the death of his mother.

Mugman felt hands gripping his arms suddenly. The mug started to struggle in the tiger’s hold.

“You little animal,” the tiger growled behind him.

Mugman clenched his teeth in pain once he felt it burning his skin. “I’m going to kill you! You hear me?! I’m going to kill you for this!”

The tiger only smirked at Mugman. “My, my, I knew there was that lust for blood in you. I guess you and I are not as different as I thought.”

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO THEM!!!” Mugman screamed while thrashing his feet. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” the tiger said with a laugh. “I don’t doubt that one bit.”

Mugman could feel burn intensifying while he screamed in agony. He could feel his body shifting back into a monster he feared he was already.

“LET ME GO, YOU FREAK!!”

“Ah yes, you want blood, don’t you? You want vengeance for what happened to your parents, don’t you? Doesn’t their screams of pain satisfy you? Aren’t the sound of gunshots beautiful?”

“I…said…let…me…go!” Mugman growled while yanked his arm out of the tiger’s grip and slammed his fist against the tiger’s stomach.

The tiger released Mugman’s other arm while covering his gut. Before Mugman could leap to attack him, the tiger disappeared without a trace and everything went dark around him.

Mugman breathed heavily, his fists shaking from clenching them too hard. The blue-nosed mug collapsed on his knees and sobbed again, feeling his body shaking from the burns. Before he could close his eyes and let his mind take him somewhere else, he heard something in the distance.

“Hello?! Is anyone here?!”

Mugman lifted his head with tear stains on his cheeks. He squinted at the distance and noticed a mysterious shiny figure walking around the darkness.

“Hello?! Is anyone here?!”

Mugman reached his hand out to the figure and was about to say something, but he was soon cut off.

~.~

Mugman gasped awake, his eyes snapped open. He started to move around frantically until he felt a soft touch from a paw rubbing his arm soothingly.

“Hey, don’t get up too fast,” Cassidy’s angelic voice spoke.

Mugman glanced over to find Cassidy sitting next to him with her paw on his arm. He sat up and looked around to realize that he was in the bedroom where the kids had slept before.

“W-What happened? How long was I out?” Mugman asked her.

“A couple of days,” she answered awkwardly. “Give or take.”

“Oh…”

“Are you okay?” she questioned immediately. “You were crying in your sleep.”

“I-I was?” he said with a blush. “I mean…I-It was just a stupid nightmare.”

She frowned. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I rather not.”

She nodded her head in understanding. “If you ever want to talk about it, um, just know I’m here to listen.”

He smiled softly at her. “Thanks, Cassidy.”

They both noticed she still had her paw on his arm with small gentle strokes. They both blushed madly while Cassidy removed her paw from Mugman’s arm.

“Sorry, that wasn’t appropriate to keep my paw there…um…”

“Oh, it’s fine…you’re perfect-I mean, you’re okay. I mean…ugh, you know what I mean.”

Cassidy giggled and decided to tease him with a smirk. “Oh? Do you mean that I don’t have any flaws?”

He blushed at her teasing, but he decided to tease back. “Well, I don’t see any flaws so far. I know I’ll find ‘em eventually. Just you wait.”

“Hehe, my flaws are pretty obvious.”

“Really? Then I must be blind from your beauty to not see any flaws so far,” Mugman flirted, causing her to blush.

“Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?” she flirted back.

He blushed madly. “Hehe, well, what else can I say? You’re the cat’s pawjamas.”

Cassidy bursted out laughing at the cat pun used, causing Mugman to giggle along with her. She laughed harder until she snorted like a pig. She covered her mouth and nose with an embarrassed blush.

Mugman looked at her in shock and then wheezed in adoration. “Aww! That’s so cute! I wanna hear it again!”

She shook her head. “No, I hate my laugh.”

“Aw, I love it! It’s so cute.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. And I don’t care who says otherwise,” Mugman said with a smirk.

Cassidy rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re such a goofball.”

“Ahem.”

Cassidy and Mugman looked up and saw Porkrind standing by the doorway with a withering glare and his arms crossed.

“Do you mind not flirting with my daughter?” Porkrind said with his brow arched up.

Mugman blushed and realized he leaned a bit too closely to Cassidy during their flirting. He backed up immediately. “Uh…we’re not flirting.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Porkrind said, unconvinced by Mugman’s statement.

Cuphead came into the room with a bright smile. “Mugsy, you’re awake!” He hurried and jumped onto the bed just to hug Mugman.

Mugman gasped in shock for a moment before hugging his brother back. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, bud. I miss you too,” Cuphead spoke softly.

Elder Kettle entered the room and smiled at the boys.

Cuphead broke away from his brother. “Oh, Mugsy! C’mon! I got something to show you! C’mon!”

He took Mugman by the hand and pulled his brother off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’m comin’. I’m comin’,” Mugman said while being led outside through the kitchen door in Natalie’s backyard where Natalie played with Aurora and Chalice sat next to the goat grazing on the grass and watching them enjoying themselves until they saw Cuphead and Mugman running outside.

Aurora tilted her head and approached Mugman, looking up at him in confusion whether she should be afraid of him or not after a couple of days.

Mugman instantly remembered almost attacking Aurora with a quiet gasp in fear. “Uh…I’m sorry…I, uh, wasn’t myself a couple of days ago.”

“Id’s okay. I knew id wasn’d you,” Aurora replied while stepping back by her big sister for protection just in case.

“We’re glad to see you back on your feet, Mugsy,” Chalice said with a grin.

“Hold on, hold on, I got something to show you all. Hold on, ready?” Cuphead said while forming his hand like a finger gun. The blue glow was at the tip of Cuphead’s index finger. “Bang!” He released the blue glow like a bullet. The blue ball hit the fence and left a burn mark along with the other burn marks, indicating Cuphead’s little practice earlier.

Cuphead smiled in pride. “Awesome, right?!” He turned around to find Mugman, breathing heavily in fear. “Uh…Mugsy…you okay…?”

Mugman snapped out of his trance and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay. Try it out, bud!” Cuphead encouraged his brother.

“Wait, what?”

“We both got those potions inside of us!” Cuphead said. “Try it out!”

Mugman looked at his finger strangely and pointed his finger at the fence. The blue glow zapped out of his finger and hit the fence and left a burn mark there.

Cuphead brightly smiled and nudged Mugman’s shoulder. “See?! Isn’t that awesome?!”

Mugman chuckled at his brother’s excitement. “Yeah, it is.”

“Come on! Let’s do it again!” Cuphead said while using his finger guns to shoot the blue glow at the fence.

Mugman fired the blue bullets along with his brother with a laugh.

Chalice smirked mischievously and approached the boys. Once she got the boys’ attention, she formed her hands into finger guns and shoot a gold glow at the fence.

The boys beamed and the trio started to fire glowing balls at the fence, laughing in a good fit of fun.

When Cassidy came out, Natalie and Cassidy watched with soft smiles at the boys playing with their newfound powers with Chalice.

To Be Continued...

#cuphead #cuphead: isle of shadows rewrite #elder kettle #henchman #king dice #mugman #stickler #the devil cuphead #ocs x canons #porkrind #ms chalice

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