#divine hunt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

puppetmaster13u · 2 months

Text

Prompt 237

“Wait, so, Captain Marvel is like, three?”

Said hero pauses as he nearly passes by a cracked door, creeping slightly closer despite it being more than a little rude to eavesdrop. All of the gods were insistent, which he could say no to, but Billy was giving him the equivalent of puppy eyes, which they all knew he was weak to.

He? They? Marvel was technically an amalgamation of the past champions, currently split between six beings, though nowhere near equally. Billy was and would be the chosen champion- pure of heart to be able to resist the Gods’ bullshit- but he had chosen a team himself, which honestly Marvel approved.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, Hal?”

He didn’t move from the corner, head tilting slightly at Green Lantern’s and Green Arrow’s words. Billy, not physically there, not really, wiggled down from his shoulder, passing through the wall like a ghost invisible to all but him.

Well, him and the Gods, but Mercury’s words were muffled, nearly silenced by Solomon at the moment, so he was probably attempting to wax poetic about Flash again in a way that little ears shouldn’t hear.

“I mean, Marvel mentioned he was created three years ago, right?”

Ah. Marvel had meant that the newest Champion had been chosen, but well, he supposed that the team didn’t have all the information, as Solomon pointed out. And he was pretty sure that Billy was mostly in control at that point- it could get confusing with the hive-mind but not-hive-mind. It was hard to explain to those not apart of it.

But they had to go now, Fawcett called, and it wasn’t like Billy could leave it for long. Chances were nothing would come from this anyway.

…

Why does this feel like the intervention videos Billy showed them all.

#Shazam #Billy Batson #Captain Marvel #Prompts #DC #DCU #Divine Twitch Chat #It’s not outright stated since the past champions are better at ignoring it #And then there’s Billy who is their funky feral lil guy #Who can be bribed via powers to cause mischief #But they haven’t convinced him to curse anyone yet #The league: Is Marvel a child #Marvel (internally): Well yes but also no #They might use this to let Billy have more of a childhood actually #Why yes do show Marvel all the stuff and foods of modern day #There hasn’t been a champion after teth for centuries & they crave experiences #All the past champion hivemind at billy: Is a baby how adorable <3 #The gods at billy: Look at the mischief maker who entertains us <3 #Billy: Man Im glad you all & Tawny showed me how to hunt squirrels #prompts #justice league #shazamily #yes they are there too #No the rest of the league has no idea marvel has his own team back in Fawcett

345 notes · View notes

cherboxishere · 7 months

Text

#TRITOBER day 8: Angel

Listen ok it’s tragic so I’m depicting it tragic

#digital drawing #digital painting #digital art #trigun fanart #vash the stampede #vashwood #trigun the stampede #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun vash #tritober #vash the stampede fanart #goddamn his angel imaginary is so tragic #the angel can’t help itself #when the divinity hunts you #trying to be painfully human with a body that isn’t yours #ouch

652 notes · View notes

humanmorph · 6 months

Text

Sylvia: I have an idea, if Keith is cool with it, where Cori is just, like, grilling Eclectic about details from the Alise Breka novel about Leap. Like: (as Cori): Is this true? Is he really like this? Is this what happened? Keith (as Eclectic): Uh, yeah, it’s actually toned down from the book.

i think there was some other stuff that happened that episode but i just thought this bit was nice. they're funny : )

#coriolis sunset #eclectic opposition #palisade #palisade spoilers #fatt #friends at the table #palisade 29 #i had fun with this. as such theres parts i couldve taken more care with but i decided i would rather have a good time drawing #rosa art #god everything about eclectic is so so so funny to me.keith is so smart for making him idolize leap its sooo good #in turn its really good that cori is like wooah + hunting thinks hes cool too. taking notes...#keith also continues a trend of annoying to draw divine cycle characters .#like its fine but the face is hard to emote the way i picture delegates.....

159 notes · View notes

bookishbethanyerin · 8 months

Text

Fictional fantasy men written by women really do say the swooniest things.

#book boyfriend #fictional men #fantasy books #fantasy reader #zodiac academy #throne of glass #crescent city #fourth wing #divine rivals #one dark wndow #blood & steel #anastasia #lance orion #darius acrux #dorian havilliard #hunt athalar #xaden riorson #raihn ashraj #crowns of nyaxia

164 notes · View notes

mayasaura · 1 year

Text

Kiriona Gaia/Her Divine Highness AU where Gideon escapes from the Ninth to join the Cohort, and gets claimed by John only a year or two before canon.

The lyctor trials happen approximately on schedule, but this time it's a combo event! Who Wants To Be A Lyctor, and The Bachelor Nine Houses: a chance to win the hand of Her Divine Highness Kiriona Gaia, only daughter of the Emperor Undying!

There are two main reasons for The Bachelor competition, one Gideon knows about and the other she doesn't:

One: She's a plant to manipulate the lyctor trials. John's a bit more invested this time around, after the whole baby plot reveal left him bereft and short-handed. He wants Gideon to get to know all of the candidates and report back to him.

Two: John thought it would be funny and is trying (and badly failing) to wingman for his socially awkward daughter.

Gideon is John's plant in the lyctor competition, but the marriage contest is a setup for Gideon. Here you go, kid, your very own fantasy romcom scenario, now will you finally make a move on that girl you're physically incapable of shutting up about?

#John thought it was sweet when Ianthe hit on Harrow and clearly Made Assumptions and wanted them to be happy together #so I'm dead sure that any social time spent with Gideon the Ninth era Gideon would convince him she was smitten with the Reverend Daughter #and pulling pigtails about it #he's setting her up a playdate!#if it goes well we can talk about marriage! your life is so short kiddo!#he uses a scavenger hunt as a job interview so why not a game show competition as an omiai #the locked tomb #gideon nav #kiriona gaia #ntn spoilers #griddlehark #emperor john gaius #hdh au #tlt au #her divine highness au #tlt royal ball au

652 notes · View notes

mamawasatesttube · 4 months

Text

just thinking out loud here but i feel like a lot of popular perception of kon esp in online fandom spaces is colored by his joie de vivre and all the times he's silly and goofy. which i do of course adore!! i love when he's silly and goofy. but comparing that perception to, that of like, clark or kara, i feel like kon gets shunted into the box of "dumb comic relief character" a lot more easily. lots of factors probably contribute to that (sb94 having a bad rep, while no other kon comic really goes into a lot of his tragedy; conflation with the side of the fandom that doesn't read comics; the fact that comparatively postcrisis kara doesn't have a team the way kon has yj and clark is seen as a more capable adult, so other characters in the jl get the "dumb comic relief" short end of the stick more often; etc) ...

... but what really gets me about him is that he does embody a lot of the same traits as the rest of the kryptonian superfam. he's so extremely kind. he's got that same noble heart as the rest of them; he cares about everyone and he wants to protect everyone. and he's so, so lonely. he struggles between cultures and worlds where he feels like he doesn't belong to either. he is so strong and capable and holds so much power that it scares him.

cradles him gently in my hands. he contains multitudes... come closer don't you want to love him 🥺

#rimi talks #i'm mostly drawing parallels here between kon clark and kara:#the almost divine loneliness. the struggle to fit in. the kindness and deep deep love and desire to help others.#ofc that isn't getting into Every member of the superfam like linda or kenan or anyone else bc that would be a MUCH bigger post #but i'm mostly picking these 3 bc. well i'm a postcrisis girlie first of all. and also theyre the 3 i think fandom acknowledges most?#at least in my perception of it! (now whether fandom acknowledges them in accurate ways. well no bc nobody knows kara past the basics. but.#(that's a whole other post. this one's about how kon DOES in fact also share the loneliness and noble heart and everything with them. augh)#kon #i was really tempted to go pull panels from rots/sb94/etc to illustrate each point (loneliness nobility kindness etc) but #im SUPPOSED to be writing fic right now. theres a dick on that page that aint gonna suck itself #so back to the writing mines with me. but i was just thinking about kon. (i know. shocking)#also i had to go hunting for the 🥺 emoji bc my recents are entirely filled with fish lately. fjhdskjfh #anywhoozies. mines. farewell

76 notes · View notes

comparativetarot · 11 months

Photo

Ace of Pentacles. Art by Lisa Hunt, from the Animals Divine Tarot.

Guinea Pig

#Lisa Hunt #Animals Divine Tarot #Ace of Coins #Ace #Coins #Minor Arcana #Tarot #Animals #Guinea Pig

180 notes · View notes

blood-orange-juice · 6 months

Text

by @frog_well_ on Twitter

#5 days until the whale hunting patch #~12h until livestream #I apologize for the person I'm going to become on wednesday #call me ishmael #52hz #childe's emotional support whale #divine messenger of catastrophe

92 notes · View notes

dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

Note

Howdy Mr. Dapper! Your ideas for zhuzhing up different gods are always so cool, I was wondering if you had any for Grummsh? Either keeping him as a patron of orcs but losing the evilness, or making him believably evil but not relegating him to one people?

Deity: Gruumsh, God of Grudges

The soldiers let me and my boy through the wall because they thought we’d be useful. Making leather’s foul work but someone’s got to mend their armour and boots. A few years go past and my boy gets bigger, starts looking like he might be a problem, so they start looking for excuses, and they keep finding excuses until they have him on the ground and are beating him to death with the boots I made them.

Ruiner, they have taken my son so let me have this instead: Help me live long enough to slip my knife under their skin, Help me flay every last one of the bastards , Help me give back this pain they’ve given me. I do not want it.

-Grimma, orcish tanner and resistance leader

As much as the kindhearted would like to deny it, there are some hatreds that are holy, some transgressions that can not be forgiven, some hurts that will not ease until they are avenged. These are the province of Gruumsh, the Ruiner, Father of the wronged. Gruumsh is a god to curse by, a god to get you through bitter times, and he lends his strength and fathomless anger to those who have been hard done by. Gruumsh is defined by his symbol of the gouged eye, a wound that will not close forced upon him by enemies yet to be brought to justice.

That justice however does not resemble anything that could be codified in law. Gruumsh is known as the Ruiner because often the ultimate culmination of his worship is just that: the violent obliteration of both his worshipper and those that wronged them, a closed circle of bloodshed and loss that balances the scales through pain.

Adventure Hooks

A storm has driven the party and several other travellers to take shelter in a roadhouse, delaying their days long journey to the next settlement but giving them a chance to get cozy by the fire, maybe trade some gossip with the others. Storytime is however interrupted when a deadman begins hammering at the door, demanding for someone to let him in so that he can wreak vengeance on those that murdered him. Interrogating the dead man through the door reveals that he was making his way towards the inn when set upon by masked figures who robbed him of his possessions and left him dead in a ditch with a prayer to the Ruiner on his lips. Its up to the party to piece together which of their dinner companions might’ve done the deed, or else the revnant is likely to break in, kill them all, and let Gruumsh sort it out.

An orcish noblewoman needs the party’s help in recovering a number of important items stolen from her family’s chapel. She was on the eve of brokering a peace with a rival noble house and putting an end to generations of bloodfued when someone broke in, defaced their altar, and stole several mementos that are not only important to her family but also empowered with a dangerous magic. Most of her people blame thieves, the rival faction, or the disfavour of Gruumsh himself, though if the party search hard enough the evidence may just point them in the direction of her hot blooded younger brother who feels as if he’s yet to prove himself in the family’s ongoing conflict.

An enterprising land baron attempted to oust the local hermit from his land and ended up getting some divine wrath for his trouble, the old crank’s curse bringing down a celestially empowered chimera to harry the baron and rampage across his holdings. Landlords are parasites, and while the party might be tempted to let the beast despite the generous reward he offers, there is also the matter of the other people live on his various tenant farms who’ve been caught in the literal crossfire. Perhaps there’s a more equitable way to end this, especially since killing the beast ( or the hermit, as the landlord subtly entreats) may bring Gruumsh’s wrath down on them.

As with gods like the Allhammer or the Archheart, Gruumsh can be worshipped by any but is most often depicted as an orc, with some myths claiming that the first orcs rose up in legion from the drops of blood spilled from the Ruiner when his eye was first taken. Some of his priests, known as grudgekeepers like to joke that the famed orcish resilience in the face of grievous harm is one of Gruumsh’s favourite gifts, the chance to strike back against your murderer one last time before death comes to claim you.

There are few temples dedicated to the Ruiner, and those do exist often serve as monuments to wrongs so great that could not be avenged. Likewise those devotees who extend their faith into public practice tend to preach to others seeking to memorialize, or to ferment public agitation against some great personal or social injustice that must be corrected. Some societies try to suppress worship of the ruiner, fearing that he incites the same pain he claims to avenge, but in these austere cultures where the mighty may do as they please Gruumsh has little need of temples: his shrines are the bloodstains that can’t be cleaned off the street, his prayers are made in defaced edifices and vulgar words shared between those who suffer.

Signs: Fresh blood remembering old violence, rage so pure it distorts reality, physical cracks in symbols of authority

Symbols: A lone bleeding eye, nails driven into a resilient surface over and over and over again.

Titles: The Ruiner, The Unblinking, He who never sleeps

Art

#deity #gruumsh #divinity: pain #divinity: rage #divinity: revenge #orc #mystery #undead #low level #mid level #thief #curse #monster hunt

301 notes · View notes

multifandomsillies · 4 months

Text

taking playlist requests!!!

heya! i'm going to be taking playlist request for the current fandoms i'm in!

current fandoms :

Just Dance (anything is fine but please try to stick to maps from 2022 edition and after that)

Bungou Stray Dogs

Disventure Camp

Fragaria Memories

Beyblade Burst

The Amazing Digital Circus

Genshin Impact

Dead Plate

Elevator Hitch

Cold Front

Eloquent Countenance

Bittersweet Sentence

Divine Hunt

Jackpot Crash Course

S-01-VER BULLET

The Looping Woods

Yabai Yatai

playlists will consist of 20 songs MAX.

please put in requests if you want!! i need something to do :)

#just dance 2024 #just dance 2023 #fragaria memories #bungou stray dogs #disventure camp #beyblade burst #the amazing digital circus #genshin impact #dead plate #elevator hitch #studio investigrave #cold front #eloquent countenance #the looping woods #bittersweet sentence #divine hunt #jackpot crash course #s 01 ver bullet #yabai yatai

13 notes · View notes

personnamedjamin · 1 month

Text

Pls idk what to do

#studio investigrave #fanart #divine hunt #divine hunt Celeste #racheldrawsthis

6 notes · View notes

the-eldritch-it-gay · 2 months

Text

Hunger

I posted this a bit ago, but I think I accidentally deleted it while cleaning up my blog. So I edited it a bit and thought I should post it again. I think it's a neat look at Majexatli and the fact they're a Malarite.

CW: Hunting, Violence, Everything you'd imagine would come with worship of Malar (a Chaotic Evil deity of hunting, bloodlust, bestial violence)

Majexatli wondered, sometimes, what drew them to the hunt.

It wasn’t something they took the time to consider before the Nautiloid, when they prowled the Sword Coast in wildshape. Back then they rationalized it; it was much easier to hunt and eat in wildshape than to gather ingredients and make camp and cook something. Having most of their meals be bloody and raw made the ones they had outside of wildshape that much more special.

Now, though? They spent their days as a person, every night there was a camp with plenty of rations, there was wine and cooked meats and soups and bread enough for everyone. There were traders who could sell them any array of foods, there were greens and mushrooms a plenty along the road, abandoned campsites and kitchens with all sorts of meats and produce.

Majexatli didn’t need to hunt, every night they could curl up by a fire with a full belly.

So what drew them to the hunt? Why did they still feel a hunger clawing at them? A restlessness in their own skin?

Sometimes at night, Majexatli watched Astarion hunt while prowling in the shadows and lurking in trees. He was effective enough but clumsy. As much as he has grown better at stealth, at ambushing enemies with his bow or dagger, he was different when he had just his teeth, when his mind was preoccupied with hunger. It was quick and inelegant, never drawn out, he picked whatever animal he could find, it didn’t matter what it was so long as they had blood.

It seemed wasteful.

Sometimes Majexatli entertained the thought of teaching him how to hunt properly, the art of drawing it out. Maybe they could have him hunt them, make him prove himself before spilling their blood. Never were his eyes more present and alive than when their blood was on his tongue.

They could teach him the rules of the hunt.

They shouldn’t, they knew, shouldn’t drag him down with them. They were supposed to be the kind and wise druid coaxing him back from the edge, rather than echoing the dark whispers in their mind and showing him the shards of divinity that could be in everything if you tore into the flesh enough, how if you swallowed holiness bloodied and raw enough it could fix you from the inside.

But Astarion was a vampire, undead, he needed blood to live. He had a reason for his bloodshed, he would starve without it. What reason did Majexatli have?

If their hunt was just a supplication, a prayer, an offering, then why did they hunger?

Was devotion making them a monster, or was their piety a justification for the monster they already were?

If they weren’t a monster, if they were truly good, then Majexatli would have been at camp, basking in the victory of the Shadow Curse being lifted, finding what pleasure could be found in the brief moments before they chased the Elder Brain to Baldur’s Gate.

Kethric Thorm was dead, the Nightsong freed, Thaniel made whole again, Gale alive, Wyll would be free of his contract soon, Jaheira and Minthara had joined their camp. There was a veritable feast around the campfire, endless companionship, if they wanted they could be pulling someone away to somewhere private and chasing whatever pleasure they could.

Instead, they were in the forest, hidden in the shadows, following a trail of blood through the trees, the buzzing euphoria of the hunt dulling the hunger that had dug its claws into them.

Slaying the young is forbidden.

The brown bear in their sights was full-grown, only slightly larger than Majexatli’s current form, the Dire Wolf they hadn’t let out since the gnolls on the Risen Road. In any other form, it would have been stupid, reckless to take on a bear. It might still be, but they wanted a challenge, wanted to impress.

A bear claw was one of Malar’s holy symbols.

Make your kills long and bloody.

They jumped from the shadows, snapping at the bear’s hind leg, making sure to bite and tear its flesh enough for the bear's blood to spill on the grass below. They let the bear get a swipe on them, feigned a pained yelp as it spilled their blood in turn, ran off into the trees as though afraid and wounded.

Oh, Majexatli was disappointed when the bear didn’t follow, when it didn’t try to hunt them down in turn, but they could adapt.

Keeping to the shadows, every so often they purposefully stepped on a twig, just to watch the bear stop in tense silence, sniff the air. In that tense silence, they would dash out, pounce and bite and then run off again before the bear could truly react.

Taste the blood of those you slay and never kill from a distance.

Majexatli shouldn’t have enjoyed it, they knew, but the only thought in their mind was blood. With every snap of their teeth, they relished in the sharp, warm rush of blood in their mouth, as they stalked they lapped at their muzzle and the blood soaking their fur. The promise of more blood, of tearing open flesh, of devouring raw and bloody viscera was intoxicating.

They followed the trail of blood through the trees, stalking, tracking, thrilling at the adrenaline in their veins that kept them warm and warded off the cold breeze. Majexatli let the blood lead them to the edge of a clearing, down to the river’s edge.

The bear was wounded, patches of its fur stained red and glistening in the moonlight. The wounds weren’t grave, bites and claw marks purposefully shallow, just enough to bleed, to distract it, to wear it down. There in the open, there were no twigs or dried foliage to alert the bear to their presence as it licked its wounds on the river bank.

Crouching in the grass, Majexatli almost felt at home, they could almost forget about the Elder Brain and the Nautiloid.

They let out a growl as they lunged, managing to knock the bear over as their jaw clamped down on the juncture of its neck, heart jumping and blood singing as they held it there, felt the bear thrash beneath them claws swiping at them blindly, weakly.

And then Majexatli’s blood turned to ice as they felt the fur beneath their teeth fade, muscles reshape and suddenly their teeth were sinking into a person’s flesh, so much more fragile, so easy for the flesh to give.

The rush of blood in their mouth filled them with terror. They should have released immediately, should have let go of the shoulder as soon as they felt the change, as soon as they heard a cry of pain in a voice so familiar. They should have relaxed their jaw—but why? Did they want to let go and drop wildshape? Or did they want to let go so they could adjust their bite, shift their teeth from shoulder to neck, find the jugular and sink their teeth in—

A strong hand found the scruff of their neck somehow, even as now this form dwarfed the man beneath them. Blunt fingers dug into their fur, into the flesh and muscle there, more gentle than he had any right to be.

“Majexatli,”

They could feel the vibrations of his chest beneath their teeth, Halsin’s voice slightly strained, yet firm and with none of the hatred Majexatli deserved.

Majexatli’s jaw relaxed, teeth pulling out of flesh and they knew blood was spilling from the wounds. They hadn’t felt any bones snap beneath their teeth, yet their mind raced with images of what they would see when they pulled away, visions of Halsin with his throat torn open, bleeding out before they could do anything.

A memory surfaced, unbidden, so visceral even 20 years later, how quickly they had bled out, how they had spent those few seconds begging for Silvanus to save them, calling up every prayer they had memorized, every supplication and offering they had given. They had spent every breath striving for the balance Silvanus wanted and he had simply watched their lungs be torn from their chest, as if their slaughter was simply an accepted collateral in his divine plan.

“Majexatli,”

There was a hand on their face, and it took everything in Majexatli not to snarl and snap at the gentleness.

They couldn’t bring themselves to meet his eyes, instead staring at his shoulder, the tears in his tunic, the bloodstains, the bite marks still lazily oozing blood. He must have cast something, a healing spell to stem the worst of the bleeding and coax the shallowest wounds closed.

“It’s nothing serious,” His voice was so genuine, “I’ve had much worse, it’s alright. We’ve all had moments where we lose ourselves to the beast,”

Halsin let out a slight laugh, but Majexatli could hear a slight pain, the way it was slightly forced, as though he was trying and failing to ignore the Dire Wolf that stood over him. He knew, he had to know that Majexatli could snap his neck with their teeth, that his blood lingered in their mouth. Majexatli wanted to be horrified, disgusted, and they were, but they also wanted to lick their lips and savor the taste.

“Are you alright?”

They finally met his eyes and recoiled, from the concern in his face, from the cautious but naïve trust. He should be running or shifting back to a bear that could snap them in half, they would deserve it.

Majexatli had the upper hand, though, they still had their teeth and claws and as much as the thought of Halsin’s blood on their tongue sickened them, as much as they wanted it to taste foul, the taste was divine. It always was.

They could taste more of it. All they had to do was bite again, all they had to do was let go. Their quarry was beneath them, unarmed, unarmored, the end of the hunt, of their hunger was within reach.

Suffer no druid to live, for they believe not in survival of the strong, but in a weak-minded balance.

Majexatli ran.

Darting off into the trees, they ignored Halsin’s voice calling after them, blindly zigzagging through the forest as if they were trying to shake someone off their tail. But the beast they were trying to outrun was the one wearing their skin.

They crashed out of wildshape, into the dirt hard enough to skin their knees, their palms, though they could hardly tell their own blood apart from Halsin’s. Curled up on the ground there, they watched as the moonlight filtering through the trees slowly faded and was replaced by sunrise.

If your prey escapes, they have earned their freedom and whatever boon seems fit.

Majexatli didn’t know if there was anything they could give that would make up for what they did. But they weren’t sure if Halsin was the prey or if they were.

#eldritch it speaks #oc: majexatli #salam plays bg3 #smth about holiness seems to always end up in my writing #holiness metastasized (that poem)#holiness bloodied and raw (here)#í think divinity is not confined to heaven. it permeates everything.#anyways thats besides the point!#this is probably the only time Majexatli has technically stopped a hunt

22 notes · View notes