#god of righteousness au

[quillandink333]

PINNED POST or something

Uh.. Hi. I’m Quill. Proship, pro-fiction, pro-kink, pro-para, pro-choice, anti-harassment, anti-capitalist, ally, and a proud selfshipper ✨

Anon is on, but if you just have smth nice to say or ask about any of my selfships or aus, I’d love to know who you are so we can be moots! Ask games stay open permanently

DNI if you judge and/or harass people based on their taste in fiction, are uncomfortable with RPF-based selfshipping, or are a bigot of any kind!!! Also if you ship any ship (selfship or otherwise) with Herlock Sholmes, Barok van Zieks* or Asougi Kazuma from The Great Ace Attorney, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin, Kim Namjoon* or Min Yoongi of BTS, Angel Dust, Asmodeus, Blitzø, Valentino* or Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, or any of my other romantic F/Os, please be aware of and respect the fact that I’m not comfortable with sharing whatsoever, neither with selfshippers nor other characters before you interact

*I don’t ship myself with any of these guys, but I have friends who do and I can’t in good faith dishonour their relationships with them by acknowledging anyone else’s, sorry!

Carrd for more on me, my BFs, and my AUs (check it out and send me asks plsplsplspls :3)

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#pinned #my drawing #my writing #my imagine #my headcanon #my stuff #quillzuma🐍🪶 #kazelia 🐍🌼 #yoonquill 🐈🪶 #quillcifer 🍎🪶 #applewings #kar(u)ma #musician au #twisted karma au #forget me not au #daihakuja au #yakuza au #god of righteousness au #fairytale au #star wars au #pixie hollow au #catboy au #cosmic au #little mermaid au #coffin au #empire au #zelink botw #botw zelink #zelink totk #totk zelink

[fellhellion]

I love putting Emma Wayhaven in situations that exacerbate or demonstrate her worst qualities ❤️🫠

#GOD…..time travel au…… #lol lmao even to blindly rushing into a situation #changing nothing #and THEN having to grapple with the fact you did all of that without consideration about who would’ve paid the price had u succeeded #how much that shakes your sense of self #and like. Bobby fic. the self RIGHTEOUSNESS to that betrayal she’d feel guilty but not enough #guilty because of the way it demands she re-examine herself #what it would mean if she did #I love you girl ur so messed up 🫠 #tunes talks wayhaven

[pinkie-pop]

"I Must Confess, I Am Not What I Seem."

Featuring: Gender-Neutral reader, Furina, Isekaied!Reader, SAGAU, Imposter AU, Golden Blood AU

Word Count: 2.4k

Synopsis: There is a thin line that separates lies from truth, falsehoods from facts. You are a tightrope walker, it would seem.

Includes: Spoilers for 4.2, injury, religious themes

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“I am a vast ocean confined into the shape of a small and shallow puddle. I am more than you could ever know, yet less than what I am truly meant to be. Does this not answer your question?” You say, golden ichor staining your white robes.

“I…I’m afraid it does not, Your Most Honorable Righteousness,” Clorinde looks down, uncharacteristically nervous. The weight of your title sits heavily upon her tongue—a Fontainion nickname someone coined eons ago.

“Then, allow me to state this in a way you can understand,” you say, now addressing not only her but the crowd around you—everyone gathered in the dueling grounds to watch your fight, now watching with bated breath upon this new development. “I bleed because I am human. Gold because I am a God. I am paradox itself—a godly soul contained in a human vessel. Are you starting to understand now?” Whispers begin to fill the street as everyone takes in what you just said. ‘The Creator has descended to Teyvat in a human body!’ They say. ‘Is such a thing even possible?’ They ask. ‘Of course,’ comes the response. ‘It’s happening right in front of us!’ ‘What’s going to happen to Fontaine?’ says a pragmatic one. ‘Our Champion Duelist nearly killed Them! We called Them an imposter!’ You listen in on the conversations, pleased with the way the rumors spin themselves. Now that the spark has been made, the fire will come next. They’ll weave together their own tales and explanations from your words; the rumors will exaggerate and grow until you no longer need to say a word. They will answer their own questions. Your work here is done.

Truth be told, you’re bluffing about all of this. When you first came to Fontaine, you had no idea what all the talk of being a divine imposter was about. You went along with it, believing yourself to be dreaming, not caring where the tides took you. You didn’t choose to duel for your honor because you knew your blood was golden (Of course not. How could you have known?), you only wanted this dream to be over. 

The pain gave it away. This was all too real. You weren’t dreaming. You had been in real danger. The blade that pierced your chest could have gone straight into your heart, had you not leaped back in reflex. The thought makes you sick, but you do not show it. No, you have a role to play. You are no god, but if it means you won’t be hunted down or hanged for blasphemy, you are more than willing to pretend.

You cautiously raise a hand to your wound. It stings. You look down at your hand, coated in yellow. Dizziness overtakes you, and you fall to the ground.

But you do not hit the ground. Someone catches you.

And all fades to black.

•~•~•~•~•~•

When you come to, you spot familiar faces standing by your bedside. Clorinde, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Sigewinne, and Furina, too. The four pillars of Fontaine’s political system are all gathered by your bedside. The room you're in is luxurious, colored in a white and (you suspect, real) gold palette. The size and luxury of the room is imposing, reminiscent of a cathedral. You suppose this ‘Creator’ must be a big deal. You try to move, but searing pain shoots up from your wound. Right, you had already forgotten.

“Your Holiness, please be careful!” Says Sigewinne. “You don’t want to pop your stitches, do you? I'll help you sit up.”

“Many eyes watch my movements and recovery. Can I take this to mean you all have something to say?” You think you're getting the hang of talking like someone divine. You can only hope the ones around you buy it.

Neuvillette speaks first. “I am sorry to disturb you during what should be a peaceful rest, but we have some questions for you.” 

“Speak for yourself,” says Wriothesley. “I'm only here to watch over Siegewinne.”

“Oh? Is that so? I had just assumed you were just as curious about Them as the rest of us. My mistake,” says Clorinde, voice dripping with sarcasm. Wriothesley scoffs but doesn't say anything.

“You spoke of questions,” you say, redirecting the conversation. “Yet all I hear is idle chatter.” Wriothesley and Clorinde both look away. Neuvillette clears his throat, but Furina speaks first. 

“Is there…a reason you have decided to descend?” She asks, a hint of anxiety in her voice and her face painted with worry. You know what she's thinking without her even having to say anything. She's worried about the prophecy. You may as well ease her concerns.

“Must I have a reason to visit my own creations? I simply wished to see how things have changed.” Furina visibly relaxes, then, seeming to catch herself, straightens immediately. “Now that you have asked something of myself, I, too, have a query with which to exchange. Where are we?”

“Le Berceau Du Créateur—Fontaine’s largest temple and the place most appropriate for someone of your status,” says Neuvillette. You nod pensively, pretending you've heard of it.

“This is our grandest room, made specifically in the case that you were ever to visit Fontaine. I do hope it meets your preferences and standards.”

“Luxury means little to me, but this room has been made with care and dedication. That is enough.” Neuvillette relaxes ever so slightly.

Rather suddenly, Clorinde kneels in front of you. “Please, your Eminence, I cannot take it any longer. Punish me,” she says. You look at her with an expression you hope mimics apathy. Truthfully, a part of you does wish to punish her, to get some sort of sick satisfaction out of her misery, but you refrain from showing such intentions. You will not punish her. You will be a gracious and forgiving god. You will earn their respect and gratitude.

“I will do no such thing. If there is nothing else, I'd like to be alone now. I'm sure you understand,” you say, making eye contact with Clorinde. Everyone leaves, though Clorinde lingers the longest, a silent apology on her lips as she walks out the door.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You heal remarkably fast. It takes no more than a week for your injury to heal completely. Not even a scar remains. By now, word of your arrival has already spread across Tevyat, and countless letters and requests for visitation follow. You allow only the most important of guests into your temple, that is, only the “acolytes” (that is, playable characters). Truthfully, you dread each appointment. Pretending to be wise beyond your years, to ooze divinity, and to fool both mortals and Gods alike is…a lot of work, to say the least. But you have to keep up appearances. You don't want to get hurt again.

Today you have a meeting with The Seven. You can only hope that things go smoothly. 

Not much happened during the meeting, but you did ask Furina to stay a while longer. The two of you proceed to the drawing room, where tea and snacks have already been served. 

“You wanted to speak to me, Your Righteousness?” Furina asks, her cake and tea untouched, likely waiting for you to eat first. You pick up your teacup with a practiced elegance and take a sip. Furina is quick to follow your lead. Her nervous scramble to mirror your movements brings a small smile to your face. 

“Furina,” you say, putting the teacup down. She straightens in her seat, hanging off your every word.

“Yes, Your Holiness,” she says, sitting on the edge of her seat.

“Soon, you will have a day where everything seems to go wrong. It will feel like everything you’ve built up will have fallen, broken, down at your feet. Take heart, for this is not the ending you fear. Your suffering has not been for naught. When the time comes for you to sit crying on your throne, please remember these words. The prophecy will not come to pass.”

•~•~•~•~•~•

“Hey, did you hear? Everyone’s been saying that The Creator has a favorite Acolyte!”

“They do? But I thought They were impartial.”

“It seems even the Gods play favorites…” 

“It’s Focalors!”

“Who’s the lucky person?”

“Seriously? I suppose They have been staying in Fontaine a lot, but wasn’t it Fontaine that falsely charged Them in the first place?”

“I know, right? I mean, I like Lady Furina as much as the next guy but, she isn’t the most…” 

“Shh! Hey, don’t finish that thought! You don’t want to get charged with blasphemy, do you? You can’t us insult Their favorite like that!”

“So? Do you think she’ll be made a consort?”

“Hey! What did I just say? We’re not talking about this anymore. I’m not going to get beheaded for gossip.”

“They have been meeting with her more often than anyone else… I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something between them…”

•~•~•~•~•~•

“Your Holiness, may I ask why you have me visit you so often?” Furina fiddles with her hands, staring down at her lap. You look at her curiously before answering.

“I feel at ease when I am with you,” comes your reply. “We have more in common than you think.”

“We have something in common?” Asks Furina, bewildered. “What is it?” You smile at her.

“Patience, Furina. All in due time.”

•~•~•~•~•~•

“Hey, did you hear? Have you heard the news? Lady Furina is a human!”

“I hear she was placed under a curse.”

“A human?! But she’s been alive for five hundred years!”

“But why would she pretend to be a god?”

“Beats me.”

“Of course not. Why would They play favorites with her if They knew she was human?”

“What about The Creator? Do you think They knew?”

“But how could They not have known? They are the God above Gods, after all.”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you think They knew?”

•~•~•~•~•~•

“So this is what you meant,” Furina says, nibbling on a cake you had imported from Liyue. “When you said everything would work out, I mean.”

“Yes,” you reply, sipping from your teacup.

“Yes,” you say again. “It must have been so hard for you. I can only imagine the loneliness and suffering you’ve had to endure these past hundreds of years.” Furina looks to be on the verge of tears. You’ve wanted to say this to her for a long time. You allow her to lean into you as she releases five centuries worth of tears. When she finally stops, the front of your shirt is thoroughly soaked. You can't find it in yourself to mind. 

“You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

“I must apologize for showing you something so unsightly,” she says, seemingly embarrassed. 

You tell her you don't mind, though it seems to do little to ease her worries. 

“Your Reverence, may I ask…why me?” You raise an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. “I mean, I’m nobody special. Not anymore, anyway. I’m not an Archon, I’ve quit the stage, I’m not even immortal…Why do you choose to waste your time with someone like me?”

“What? N-no, I–”

“Are you questioning my judgement?”

“I was joking, you know.”

“O-oh, I see—I mean, yes, of course you were! I was merely playing along, eheh…” 

“Furina,” you say, placing your teacup in its saucer as Furina hastens to do the same. “Do you remember what I said to you the last time we met?”

“Just as I said back then, we have more in common than you may realize.”

“Of course, you said that you felt at ease when you were with me, but I still don’t understand why…”

“We have something in common? But what could it—No, you don’t mean…?”

“I-I can’t. It can’t possibly be true, I must have lost my mind for a moment.”

“Say it.”

“Forgive me, please. I don’t know what came over me, I-I—”

“Say it.”

“Say it.” Furina pauses, seeming to mull over her options. Her movements are skittish, her voice full of anxiety as she paces back and forth, muttering words of apology and justifications.

“You’re not…our God?” Her voice is little more than a whisper. You nod at her, and she collapses onto the couch. “B-but your blood! What about your blood?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, either. It used to be red, but it changed once I came to this world. I don’t know how or why.” Furina remains silent, seeming to mull over your words even as the world around her collapses. 

“What about the vessels? The Traveler? You controlled them, didn't you? You controlled me!”

“That was my doing, but not my power."

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” You shrug, taking your fork to your slice of cake.

“Fake deep,” you say. “Most of what comes out of my mouth is total BS, but people nod along and act like it’s something profound because they believe I am a God.” 

“What about your speech? All the cryptic wording and allegories?”

“Wisdom isn’t something you can just fake. The people aren’t stupid, they know when they’re being fed what isn’t food.”

“And yet, here we are.” 

“And yet, they didn’t.”

“You can’t not be our God, surely the Archons would have noticed if–” Furina stands up, pacing back and fourth like a caged animal.

“But, but—!”

“Of course, you’re human! But you’re still our God! Did what you said about oceans and puddles really mean nothing at all?! Everyone said you’re an incarnation of The Creator. How can that be lies? You even said that you had lost all memories of Godhood; how can you know that it’s not true?” She raises some good points, but you know it’s nothing more than the ramblings of the desperate.You really hadn’t expected her to take it so hard. Perhaps you overestimated her. Furina throws herself back onto the couch and then sighs. She moves to sit upright and smooth out the creases in her outfit. “I suppose you would know more about this situation than I would, and I must apologize for my…outburst. You must understand, this is quite a shock to me.” You nod at her. 

“I’m sorry, Furina. But I really am human, just like you.”

“But still,” she says. “How can you be so sure?”

“Furina,” you say hesitantly, looking at her as if you were about to say something unpleasant. “The Creator…doesn't exist.”

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #yandere neuvillette #yandere wriothesley #yandere furina

[toji-girl]

confessions | priest! s. geto

synopsis: He made a vow to God and was serious about keeping it, he never wanted to stray off the path of righteousness until he met you who he swore was a demon sent to seduce and tempt him, so he has to make sure you're not.

wc: 6.9k

tags: dark content + please heed this before reading +18+ ONLY content + minors and empty blogs DNI + modern au + repost from my old blog + this has been beta read + lots of religious themes because he’s a Priest and lots of sex talk and thinking about it + praising + sacrilegious themes + anthropolatry + body worship + virgin! Suguru (virginity loss) + corruption kink + desecration + sex in a confessional booth + edging + overstimulation + Father being used inappropriately + Satoru x you + Toji x you, breeding + female and male masturbation + fingering + spitting + dirty talking + unprotected sex + creampie + teasing + spanking + squirting + fellatio + dirty talking + cunnilingus + gagging obsessive behavior from Suguru and you + stalking + voyeurism + non-consensual recording + any missing tag lmk!

AN: this was posted such a long time ago but it has been heavily rewritten and edited - this was for a collab, can't remember who it was, but I know it was for this theme and after seeing a fanart of Suguru as a priest, and since he won my poll I knew he would fit this! he might be ooc to some so please remember!!

If anyone were to pass by Suguru’s office late at night they would hear the soft prayers, him begging God to stop the thoughts that were plaguing his mind over you, the woman who wormed her way into his brain like some sort of parasite, or perhaps you were a test designed to see if he would fail. 

It was immoral the way he thought about how soft your body would feel underneath him. and it sure didn’t help when you came to Church dressed in your Sunday best, a tight dress that gave everyone just a hint of what lies beneath the cheap fabric.

You flaunted what God gave you. Well, that’s what you told Suguru when he raised an eyebrow, eyes roamed your body settling on your legs, legs that he thought about wrapped around his head more than once. 

You haunted his dreams, soon bleeding into his daily thoughts when he was awake. Even in prayer, he would trail off thinking about you kneeling like the good girl you are under his desk, his cock slapping against your tongue in the most sinful ways, those thoughts would earn him more prayers. 

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, please, I just want to know how she would taste. That is all.”

Shame filled the priest as he stared into the mirror, looking at his dick throbbing under his cassock. Blood rushed to his cheeks when he hiked up the fabric, palming his erection wishing to God you were there.

It was something to relieve the tingle sitting heavy in his balls. Another thought of you on your knees, mouth open, tongue out and covered in his cum, your eyes glittering with the knowledge you corrupted him and a smile to boot. 

Thoughts like his filled your head too as you humped your pillow or when you invited Toji over, your father’s friend and another member of the Church who often comes to your place to have you ride her strap, over and over again like the sinner you are. 

You wanted to cry out your priest’s name instead when you finally came, pussy pulsing around Toji’s cock, it would be such a shame if Suguru could see you now; mouth hanging open, drool trickling down your chin with your fingers gripping on the leather fabric of the couch asking Toji to call you a bad girl and punish you because you deserve it, and who was he to disagree? After all, you’re sleeping with everyone but him. 

Here Toji was fucking his best friend’s daughter, his fingers pinching your waist, slamming you back against him, and the way your back arched more into it, mewling like a cat in heat. It was a weekly occurrence letting him cum inside you, the feeling you soon became obsessed with.

Neither of you spoke about it, especially as you sat next to him the next morning, feeling your panties dampen from the quickie you had earlier in his car in the parking lot. He liked to keep his hand on your knee when no one was paying attention, or so he thought. 

Suguru kept his eyes trained on you whenever you were around, but he never made it obvious, taking only small glances to make sure you weren’t doing anything that would get you in trouble.

Little does he know about the nights you would stay to pray for your sins, asking God to forgive you for the vile things you do only for you to get fucked on the pews by Toji who helped you light the candle and say a prayer for what just happened. It was a fun game you played with him, but your main focus was Suguru.

It was abominable to say the least, how your fingers ghosted over your clit at night, thinking of him above you, pinning your wrists down, grunting whilemercilessly drilling your needy cunt until you couldn’t think straight anymore.

It was an everyday thought that swam through your empty head. Most people called you airheaded but it was only because you thrived off the attention from the males who watched your eyelashes bat and lips pucker, crossing your arms over your chest, the attention was nice. 

A tooth-rotting “Please?” was all it would take, especially for Toji who was quick to spread your legs and hike up your dress, pressing his tongue against your clit, feeling it throb in need, and watching your legs shake after the orgasm he just gave you, cum covering your thighs.

You felt wet and sticky as you sat down crossing your legs, listening to Suguru perform his sermon. His words flowed through one ear and out of the other, shifting in your seat, uncrossing just at the right time to let him get an eyeful of your soaked panties, making all his blood rush to his cock, so he had to excuse himself shortly afterward so he could go into his office and wrap his fist tightly around his shaft, fucking his hand as his life depended on it.

At first, he let his mind go blank, but then visions of you on his desk with your legs spread open, handcuffs on your wrists, and connecting to the ones on your ankles invaded his mind. That was exactly the way he wanted you to be. All the depraved things you could think of, Suguru had already thought of.

He lay down each night thinking of you before he fell asleep. All he wanted to do was cum in you once, feel your warm tight pussy milking him dry from all that he has to offer. The thought of you being a demon crossed his mind once when he first met you a few months ago. Your parents spoke about you after his services showing off your pictures.

His eyes slightly widened, taking in how beautiful you are. It was a shock when the first dirty idea popped into his head. Suguru dedicated his life to being a man of God, but the mere thought of hearing your moans brought him to his knees.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. Your parents told me all about you.” Was the first thing he told you months prior, reaching for your hand, shaking it softly while holding your curious gaze. The glitter in your eyes made him look twice in awe and wonder what that twinkle was. 

It was the first time he thought about you being possessed because that’s the only way you would have such power over him from just one look, using your demonic charms on him, enticing him by wearing your short dresses, laying the charm on thick in order to seduce him.

For a response you giggled, looking sweetly at him, and his body reacted immediately to the sound of your voice, sending a shiver down his spine. And it was worse whenever he got a whiff of your perfume, following you like a dog, trying to ask you questions that seemed friendly.

All conversations never passed inappropriate because he wouldn’t want to be perceived as anything but an upstanding man of the Church, but that never stopped him cumming on his stomach and whimpering while fucking his fist, your name slipping out in breathy moans.

If Suguru heard you make the same noises he would surely cum on the spot, sending himself into overstimulation.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to pray away the guilt. It’s all wrong, and he knows it, but it’s human nature is what he tells himself when you come into his office on Sundays after service, holding a small bouquet of flowers that grows around town.

“Father? I just wanted to come in and say thank you for everything. You’ve shown me the light and I wanted to show you my gratitude.” You told him in a soft voice watching as Suguru leaned back smiling, holding his hand out.

“Come in. And thank you, that is very kind of you. How are you holding up with your job?” He asked curiously. 

You sat across from him crossing your legs. “Thank you for asking, it’s been going well so far.”

It wasn’t unusual of him to ask you questions in small increments, hoping to learn your schedule. He just wanted to get to know you better. 

Or was his behavior borderline something darker? Perhaps.

Maybe it was creepy to do so, but it wasn’t something he dwelled on for long before thinking of you bouncing on his cock, your hands on his shoulders struggling to take him all in at first, your whining about how big he is stroking his ego, sending his hips upward, impaling you deeper.

That was his favorite fantasy, that played over and over in his head like a movie until he noticed the way you sat closer to Toji, ghosting his knee with yours or the way you smiled so sweetly for him. Why don’t you smile for your Father like that? The thought enraged him at first because instead of him fucking you it was Toji.

Anger filled Suguru like hot liquid pouring into his veins. And he felt sick to his stomach every time he heard you giggling while grabbing Toji’s arm, looking at him with doe eyes.

There was nothing to be done about that, and still, he didn’t have an inkling that you made a late-night stop at the adult store looking for a dildo that would resemble what you think his dick looks like, pretty with a red flushed tip, thick and heavy, veins decorating the long shaft and heavy balls made for breeding that swung with each thrust of his hips. It was only that thought that made you achieve the blissful feeling of your climax.

You wanted to know what sounds he made when he came, knowing full well he’s never fucked anyone but his hand. The thought of corrupting him was exciting to you.

You waved and smiled at Suguru before sitting next to Toji. “Am I coming over tonight?” He asked, leaning in and whispering in your ear. You turned to him, giving his knee the same friendly squeeze.

“Yes, be at my place at eight.”

The only reason you still let Toji come over and fuck you is so you use your dildo later, pretending it was Suguru, fucking his cum back in your sloppy pussy. Something about the whole thing was a bit off, but you didn’t care when thinking of all the ways you could make Suguru confess his sins to you.

Your mind ran wild all during service, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, resisting the urge to stick your hand between your legs, which would be frowned upon to do in Church, no less during service.

Later that night, you were on your back, with Toji on top of you panting and drooling over you like a dog. “Do you like that?” He grunted, holding your waist, kneading the flesh with rough hands. You cringed hearing him talk like that, his hands moving up to your breasts squishing them, movements growing sloppy. Your head hung off the side of the bed fisting the sheets.

Suguru watched the scene unfold in front of your living room window on the opposite side of the wall. Another strike off the list of things he never thought he would do. It wasn’t something he would ever admit out loud, too scared that someone would hear with their prying ears. Besides, you were supposed to be at your friend’s house. 

That’s what he heard you tell your parents earlier when you declined their invitation for dinner, so stumbling upon this sight was the last thing that he expected.

Suguru accidentally found your address going through the visitor log you signed with your new address, finally out from under your parent’s roof after moving back home. That’s what he told himself, that finding out where you live just slipped up. No one would question him.

A frown tugged down his lips, watching the way your face showed nothing but boredom almost, not the look Suguru imagined when you were getting fucked. Was it him you thought about with each bounce of your body from Toji’s thrusts? There was no way that he was pleasuring you the way that Suguru could.

His eyes traveled down your naked body, zeroing in on the way his friend held your breasts, pushing them together. A groan escaped his lips, followed by pink-tinged cheeks as he walked past your window, keeping his raven head down.

Each Sunday you were sure to bring cookies of all sorts, and at every bake sale you helped set up, you captured the hearts of everyone, cooing about how sweet you are, dedicating time to do this.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I admire Father Geto and everything he stands for so I’m more than glad to help.” That always earned you brownie points and the, “Aw, that’s very precious of you.”

Would they say how precious you are if they found you on your knees in the closet with another member of the church?

Satoru loved when you held his wrist, dragging him in the cramped space, pressing his body against the wall, digging your manicured nails in the flesh of his thighs, relishing in the hissing sound he made driving his cock down your throat, gagging around him, earning the praise that you were so desperate to hear.

“Good girl. Just like that.” He moaned, grabbing a handful of your hair to anchor himself, watching his spit-covered cock slide in and out of your mouth, your eyes glassy playing with your clit under the skirt you wore just for him per his request. You didn’t pull away with a wet pop of your lips until you swallowed as much as you could.

Satoru was always quick to help you get on your feet, flipping up your skirt, making it easier for him to bend you over, fucking you from behind, filling not only your mouth but your cunt as well with a load of his cum.

Another prayer was said when you stepped out of the closet, bidding Satoru a farewell kiss before rounding the corner, and running straight into Suguru. You reached for his arms, steadying yourself. The feeling of his hand on the small of your back and his spicy scent that filled your nostrils made your pussy clench, pushing out Satoru’s cum, and smearing it against your panties. 

“I didn’t know you were still here Father. I’m sorry.” You said bowing your head. Suguru chuckled, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

“No worries. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I was just looking over the plans for tomorrow’s potluck. I’m making your favorite cookies. It’s still chocolate chip, right?” You asked batting those eyelashes of yours and those lips were perfectly pouty.

“Ah. Yes, it is. You have a good memory.” This ache sparked in his hand, wanting to reach out to feel how you felt under his touch. Were you thinking the same thing as you stared at him, eyes still glossy from the tears of your previous encounter?

“Father, I think I need to confess something.” Your voice came out as a whisper, stepping forward wrapping your fingers around the hidden rosary beads under his collar and pulling it free.

Suguru opened his mouth to answer but you were quicker. “Ah, Father. I was talking. I hope you weren’t going to interrupt me?” You asked mockingly, pursing your lips, forming a small pout. He shook his head watching your sticky lips from the smeared lip gloss and spit. 

“Can I come and confess next Sunday?”

“Yes, I’ll see you then. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Have a blessed night.” He grabbed his rosary from your fingers’ hold, careful not to touch you before tucking it back in his collar, leaning down with a slight smirk, “next time you attempt to touch me I’ll be sure to tie your wrists down.”

You could hear him chuckle to himself walking down the hallway, mentally giving himself a point.

It was shameless the way he flirted with you, but it felt freeing, giving the both of you masturbation material for later in the evening, him fucking his fist again in the shower, leaning against the wall, panting loudly, face screwed up in pleasure as he stood under the warm water, feeling it wash the soap away while your name spilled from his mouth, his hips stuttered spraying cum all over the tile grunting.

While you lay on your bed replaying the scene again, you thrust the dildo slowly, curling your toes, whining Suguru’s name, and arching your back. The need to have him between your legs lapping at your pussy, made you ache all over like the flu, hot and stiff muscles, mewling, trying to chase your orgasm, feeling the familiar sensation snap, sending your cunt into overdrive, pulsing around the toy.

Suguru woke each morning, adding an extra prayer when he looked in the mirror, getting ready. “I only want one thing, that’s to hear her whimper.”

It was sinful in many ways, the way he begged for just a scrap of something other than the polite tone you use with him. Everyone greeted him with a smile, only earning a meager wave and a solemn look on his face, but whenever he looked at you, his face lit up, and each time he prayed that nobody paid attention.

His only thought was you, it wasn’t just about the ways he wanted to have you, it was also how you were doing, the consuming thought of you in your kitchen, making his favorite cookies. It wasn’t something you had to do, but he’s been nothing but nice to you, and now with the promise of him tying your hands together lingering in the air, you were ready to do whatever it took.

Sunday morning, you were sure to wear the color that attracted his attention the most, white. A sign of you being pure and innocent, but he knew that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t a secret to him anymore, after him watching Toji fuck you on your couch, and after hearing Satoru confess about the quickie you two had the other day, when he thought that no prying ears were around.

Later that evening he heard you click the door shut and sit down, fixing your skirt. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” You began, clearing your throat and glancing over at the wooden window, through the small holes, watching him squirm in his seat. This is it, you thought, it’s all or nothing.

“I’ve been having premarital sex with two men. They attend the church. You know them. Toji Fushiugro and Satoru Gojo. I let Toji bend me over the pews a few times, holding my hips as he stretched me out with his cock. Then I would get on my knees for Satoru.” If you were to confess this to another priest, they would gasp, hearing the lewd way you describe your deeds, but not Suguru.

Your mind was running wild with the thoughts of your story. “Father? What should I do?” You whimpered, gripping your skirt, and rubbing your knees together.

“Touch yourself.” Suguru groaned, his voice straining to keep his composure. He shouldn’t be asking you such a thing for more than one reason.

You smiled and gasped loud enough for him to hear, feigning to be shocked by his request, but you obliged nonetheless without the slightest resistance, making his prayer come true. He heard the wood creak underneath you as you spread your legs, guiding your finger to your clit to rub the swollen bud with your middle finger.

“You want me to touch myself, Father? Should I slide my fingers inside? Do you want to hear how wet you make me?”

His cock twitched heavily in his pants running his palm over the bulge. “Y-yes, keep going.” He instructed hoarsely. Following his order, you splayed your lips open gathering your slick easily, thrusting your middle and index finger in your cunt, the wet sound filled the small booth.

The faster you went the harder Suguru’s cock got, aching to the point of pain. “Father, can I cum?” You were asking him for permission? The pure feeling he got coursing through his body tingled all throughout.

“Did you think about me when you were fucking them?” He asked, shutting his eyes.

“I did, yes. And when they left, I fucked myself with the dildo I bought after thinking of how big you were, stuffing their cum deeper in me, wishing it was you instead.” You whined softly wanting him to touch you. 

Oh, this was much better than anything he’s ever experienced. It was a sin, but hearing you play with yourself next to him, everything that happened leading up to this point was worth it.

“S’close,” You moaned, grazing your fingertips against the abused swollen bud, triggering your orgasm and prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and; forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”

“Amen,” Suguru muttered, feeling his balls release, sending thick ropes of cum in his boxers, covering his thighs making a mess. 

“Say your Hail Mary before you go to sleep.”

You chucked checking a point off for yourself. “Goodnight Father. I’ll be sure to think of you tonight.” You told him, opening his door, sliding just your hand in, setting your panties on his knee, and giving him a soft pat. “I’ve masturbated in these to you many times.” With that, you left the booth heading home to say your Hail Marys.

Another week of misery. Your moaning playing on a loop in his head. Many times he almost slipped mid-conversation whenever you walked by him, letting his mind and eyes wander, and hoped that it wasn’t obvious to whoever he was talking to at the moment.

It wasn’t usual for him to catch you washing dishes after a potluck for someone’s birthday. “Thank you for staying and helping with the dishes,” Suguru told you, walking into the kitchen. “Father, good evening.” You smiled, glancing up at him from the sink, elbow-deep in dishwater. A smile stretched his lips back. Stepping further in, he walked around the counter, leaning against the edge, grabbing the dish towel, and drying the dishes you washed.

“How are you feeling since your last confession?” He asked in a low voice.

“I’m feeling a lot better. I plan on being back next Sunday at the same time. I’ve been very naughty Father.” You whispered looking at him. 

Suguru’s cock throbbed watching you lick your lips. “How should I repent?” You asked, leaning forward, taking note of his rapid pulse.

“Say another Hail Mary and don’t touch yourself until your next confession.”

“That’s going to be tough.” You pouted, draining the water and then wiping your wet hands over your shirt, soaking the see-through fabric. 

“Does that mean someone else can touch me?”

Suguru shook his head, still holding the plate in his hand leaning in as you did the same. “No. You can keep celibate for me, can you not?”

“Yes, Father.” You nodded, trying to swallow the lump that formed in your throat, the tension so thick it was beginning to become harder to breathe, being this close to him. Maybe an inch closer and your lips would press against his, and your cunt would graze his thigh, releasing some of the pressure building between your legs.

“Good girl.” Suguru pulled back, setting the dish towel down. “Have a good night.” He called out before leaving you alone to collect your thoughts, a heavy sigh accompanied with a soft whine left your lips leaning against the counter. You debated calling Satoru for a quickie, he didn’t live far from your apartment so it wouldn’t take him long to get there and help you out, but the thought of Suguru calling you a good girl played repeatedly in your head.

It wasn’t long before you broke your promise, letting Satoru lick your clit, his fingers splaying you open, both legs thrown over his shoulders, emitting loud slurping noises from eating you like a starved man, long fingers digging in your sensitive cunt.

Today you were greedy with how many orgasms you could get, so far you hit three just with his mouth. “Are you still cumming sweetheart?” Satoru asked, pulling away and looking up at you, chin glistening from spit and cum, reminding you of the last time you sucked him off. “Satoru, please, fuck me!” You whined wrapping your fingers around his biceps.

Your pussy hugged him tightly with each drag of his cock splitting you open, his fingers in the tender meat of your thighs keeping them spread apart. Each time his hips slammed against your ass your eyes rolled to the back of your head. When your eyes closed you imagined Suguru over you grunting instead, sweat rolling down his back rutting into you, over and over again, making you cream around him.

By now Satoru knew the routine, leaving with a small awkward hug, his feelings growing deeper for you each time you shed your clothes for him, but he didn’t know about your obsession with Suguru, nor about how it was growing deeper with each passing day. Toji also shared the same feelings as Satoru.

It was hard not to. The way you treated them so sweetly and of course, everyone else too. Sure you were a little empty-headed, but that didn’t matter each time you bounced on their cocks.

No other girl would dare do something so vile, ruining their chance of getting a good husband, but you didn’t care, because the feeling of an orgasm was something that couldn’t be compared to something such as exchanging rings.

You said your prayers every morning and night, to disperse the feeling of guilt nipping at your ankles, it was wrong to defile yourself and all your beliefs, but in the end, you’re only a person with needs. 

At least, that’s what you tell yourself anyway, sliding up your skirt in the bathroom stall, pulling your panties down, and letting Toji thrust in you later that afternoon.

His hands are on your waist holding you against the wall, rutting in you. It was fruitless at this point, having him or Satoru fuck you, your face giving away the boredom you felt. Toji cleared his throat as he pulled out. “You know, you could seem a little bit interested.” He said clearly pissed that you weren’t even acting like you liked it. 

“I’m sorry,” You replied, putting your hands on his shoulders. “I’ve been going through a lot lately, but why don’t you give me a call later?” With a chaste kiss on his cheek, you left him in the bathroom stall after pulling your panties up, walking out frowning. There was this pit in your stomach that was slowly growing bigger, it first started when you met Suguru, and now months later, all your thoughts were of him.

Everything about this whole situation was wrong. You knew it but it never stopped you.

Sunday evening, you opened the booth, settling on the creaky wooden bench, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips. Suguru placed his hands in his lap waiting for you to begin. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was a week ago.”

He wouldn’t admit to knowing that you sinned after shamelessly watching you pump your dildo in and out of your wet cunt, learning that you were a squirter.

The only reason he knew that was because after his plan was hindered the other night by you being home, he chose another time to come back. Luckily, the neighborhood you live in is not very frequented, so no one saw him creep in and out of your house. Unbeknownst to you, he installed cameras all over your house, obsessed with knowing how you spent your days, and how, and with who, you spent your nights.

It wasn’t the first time that he masturbated to you, but unlike the other times, now he could actually see you, and there was something about invading your privacy that aroused him beyond comprehension, it felt so wrong and yet so right.

He never came so hard before, shooting thick ropes of cum everywhere, feeling like he was about to pass out from the intensity of his orgasm. Weak and panting, it wasn’t long before he drifted to sleep, hand, and chest still covered in sweat, spit, and cum.

“I touched myself, and I let them touch me again. Their fingers and tongues fucking me. I wished it was your cock I was on instead. Your cum filling my cunt, leaking out, and making a mess. Would you fuck me, Father?” Your last sentence came out whiny, as you spread your legs stroking your cunt.

Suguru’s breath trembled as he copied your actions, before grinding the heel of his palm against his erection. “I would.” He admitted with a heavy sigh.

Your fingers slipped in your cunt, curling. There was no way it would bring you the pleasure that you truly craved. “I want you to touch me, please. What do you think I feel like?” You asked, wanting to hear him submit to your sinful ways.

“Your skin, soft and supple. Your pussy, wet and warm, pulsing around my cock. Your mouth, the same way as I fuck your throat.”

His words felt like an electric shock coursing through your blood, pooling in your cunt, making your walls restrict your fingers, on the verge of an orgasm already, your breathing becoming erratic.

“It usually takes you a while to climax, doesn’t it?” He asked, bunching the fabric of his cassock in his free hand, the other wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, edging himself.

“I-it does yes, but when I envision you, I usually cum right then.” You were quick to admit it, but he would be lying if he said that the same thing didn’t happen to him. Thinking of his face between your breasts tightened his balls. 

“Tell me, what do you think about in these fantasies, when thinking about us?” He asked stroking his dick from base to tip making sure to twist his wrist. 

“How your cock would feel inside. I think you have the biggest one I could lay my eyes on, and it’s thick too. Just tell me if I’m right Father, because I’m imagining the way I would struggle to take you all the way in, squealing, splitting myself open on you. And when you climax, it’s a lot and very thick coming from heavy balls made to breed, would you like to do that? Pump all your cum inside my pretty pussy? Holding my hips down, making sure that I keep still so every drop isn’t wasted?”

Words couldn’t formulate in his brain, drunk on the thought of what you just described, burned into his mind. He never thought about having children after his vow of celibacy, but now, it was all he could think about. Your whimpers grew louder, echoing through the empty Church as you neared your orgasm.

“Stop!” Suguru demanded, roughly surprising you as he stood up unbuttoning his cassock and then heading to your booth. There was no stopping what was going to happen next. Both of you have been waiting for this moment since the first time you laid eyes on each other.

Your eyes widened, taking in his naked chest. It was visible that he has broad shoulders, but what you didn’t think about was how he still stayed in shape. Saliva pooled in the corner of your mouth as it hung open. Greedy hands tugged his boxers down, freeing his cock hearing how it slap against his abs. 

“I was right, thick and long.” You murmured watching him kick the door shut leaning his arm against the wall above your head while looking down at your fingers wrapping around his shift.

Suguru chuckled darkly, yanking your shirt up, freeing your tits. “No bra… Did you think tonight was the night you seduced me?” He asked, bucking his hips at your touch, a small whimper leaving his mouth. 

You laughed, looking up at him. “Seduce and corrupt you Father. It’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Has it now? Why-” He was cut off, feeling your lips wrap around his head, tongue curling under the most sensitive part, suckling, your hand cupping his balls gently, squeezing them. Suguru’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, digging his nails in the palm of his hand when you went further down, struggling to take him.

Slowly you bobbed your head up and down, keeping your fist wrapped around him, jerking him off, adding more drool making it easier and messier.

You gagged, feeling tears spring to your eyes. Looking up, you saw the look of sheer pleasure gracing his face, the sounds of you slurping around him roaring in his ears. It was so much better than his hand, your soft mouth warm and tight, the best thing he’s ever fucked.

He watched you pull away with a wet pop of your lips, using your spit as lube to jerk him off, pressing your thumb over his slit, slightly pressing in.

“Am I doing a good job, Father?” You asked, batting your eyelashes, glancing up. Suguru nodded his head, groaning. 

“You are, but I want a taste of you now.”

It was a sight to see him drop to his knees in front of you, putting both hands on your knees, pushing your legs open, your bare pussy on display like a meal for him to devour. But before that happened, Suguru wanted to take his time. Setting the mood, pressing small kisses, he grabbed your ankle, letting your foot dangle off his shoulder.

You watched his lips leave a wet trail up your thighs, ghosting across your pussy, barely fluttering his tongue over your clit, kissing the same places down your other leg. He chuckled, feeling you squirm under his touch. “What’s so funny?” You pouted.

“I’ve barely touched you and I see your cunt dripping.”

You sucked a breath between your teeth, feeling him spread your lips apart, looking at the innermost part of your pussy, your arousal very apparent, coating your thighs and the bench below your ass.

“I’ve thought about what my cum would look like leaking from all of your holes. Have you ever let a man fuck that tight ass?” He asked, moving his hand away, trailing the tip of his finger up and down your slit, groaning as he watched the way you clenched around nothing.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good. I’ll be the first then, but we’ll save that for later. For now, I can’t wait to know what your cunt tastes like.” He growled, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder, burying his tongue in your cunt, eagerly lapping, completely ignoring your fingers tugging on his blonde roots, and grinding against his mouth.

At this point it was no longer for you, he was eating you for his own pleasure.

Cum soaked his thigh, as he came desperately trying to fit his tongue in your tight hole. “Father!” You moaned, squeezing his head with your thighs, humping his face as you grabbed two handfuls of his long hair. 

Suguru slid two fingers inside you, slowly pumping while wrapping his tongue around your clit, working both of them together, feeling you clench around him. This is better than his fantasies, he thought, finally hearing you moan for him, begging for release.

Pulling out he watched your clit throb from the orgasm that he ripped away. “Why did you stop?” You whined, fucking yourself on his fingers, making him chuckle again. 

“So needy, aren’t you?” He mocked, adding in another finger.

Hearing the squelch, his balls tightened again, thrusting his fingers in and out, lapping up your juices from his hand. “You’re so perfect, the way your pussy is fluttering on the edge of release. I want to show you how good it feels to cum on my cock. Are you ready?”

All you could manage was a weak nod, your body feeling hot and tingly with each thrust of his fingers, stroking the fire deep in your stomach until it was too much to handle as you came around him, his mouth replacing his fingers, licking up your cum, softly digging his fingers in your thigh, covering your skin with your slick, both of you panting heavily looking at each other. “Who knew you were such a pro?” You teased cupping his cheek.

Suguru pressed a wet kiss to your palm as he stayed on his knees, dragging the hem of your dress up to your waist. The tension between the two of you, and the look you shared, weighed heavy on the unspoken rule of what’s to come, once he crosses the line of fucking you.

The line was crossed the first time he had inappropriate dreams of you, so he didn’t spare a second thought when he fisted the base of his cock, guiding it to your waiting pussy.

You were barely seated on the wooden bench when Suguru held your hips, pressing his cock in. A whimper left your lips, feeling his head slip past your soft muscles. Each inch that slid in made you feel impossibly full and he was only halfway in. “Oh my God, you’re so big!”

Hearing that stroked his ego, both of you gasping once he bottomed out. He held your hips, rutting against you, sliding in and out. Each time he would pull almost all the way out and then slide in slowly. Your back arched, clinging to him, trying to squirm away at first from him stuffing you, it was a mixture of pain and pleasure, feeling this full.

Leaning forward, Suguru trailed kisses across your chest and clavicle, nibbling the skin, lazily fucking you, his mind turning into a puddle the closer he got to cumming.

It frustrated him knowing he was this close already. His eyebrows furrowed, feeling the sweat roll down his face, not only from how hot it was in the cramped area but also the fact that he was desecrating something so sacred while worshipping you, his words bleeding into your skin.

“I always knew you were a good girl.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I love it when you squeeze me like that.”

“You’re doing such a good job.”

“Moan louder for me sweetheart. Let me know how much you like fucking me.”

“Keep going!” You begged sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck, bucking your hips, the both of you desperately fucking each other. Movements became harder and sloppier, the noises went from sighs and moans to something completely animalistic. You snarled each time you felt his balls slap against your ass. He held your waist helping you bounce up and down with the heels of your feet pressed against his tight ass cheeks.

“You’re so wet. Do you hear how wet you are for me? You’re being such a good girl for me… I don’t want to let go now that I’ve had a taste of you.” He growled, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, fucking you from below.

It was heavenly, the way your cunt hugged his cock like a vice grip, the feeling was indescribable, nothing could ever compare to the way you clung to him, mewling like a cat in heat, burying your head in the crook of his neck, rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic bone.

“I’m so close. Want you to cum in me, Father. Breed me, please!” You begged, pulling away with wet eyes, bouncing harder, feeling your nipples rub against the blonde hair littering his chest.

You’ve never felt this way before, the way you ground on him shamelessly without a care in the world, it didn’t matter that he was your priest or that you took his virginity in his confessional booth.

“We’re both going to have to pray after this.” You murmured in his ear, smirking. Pink crept in his cheeks. He muttered a response, something you didn’t hear nor did you care to.

You kissed him, parting his lips with your tongue, tasting him greedily. It wasn’t every day that you got to fuck your priest, nor did you get to feel him hold your hips, slamming down, impaling you on his dick.

Suguru felt your orgasm hit, tipping him into his own, spraying ropes of cum against your cervix, whimpering in your neck about how good you feel, his hands massaging your waist, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“How do you feel now?” You asked, slicking his blonde hair back gazing into his hazel eyes.

“Like a brand new man.” He answered, smiling softly at you.

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[soulfulazrael]

My Hellaverse Religions and Marriages. Or how my Asperger made up some odd worldbuilding over the dumbest reason imaginable.

We all know this shot. We all hate this shot (well... I do)

And it's for one, big reason... what the hell are marriages in Hell? Well. I was wondering that too and honestly the answer is very simple... Who gives a shit? Viv wanted a contrived story with forced marriage where Moxxie looks like a total bitch so she did it as well as she could and since she could not do it well it came out how it did.

But it did made me think at least. What would marriages in Hell look like? And that lead me to a downward spiral of thinking up in a few hours how it works and why it works. And here is the result. Ladies and gentleman and all the inbetweens (I don't judge) I present my first rewrite post which I mostly do for myself as a note for future in case dementia catches me like it did with my grandparents. One is dead, the other is dying, but enough about my happy life. Let's get into autistic rambling.

So, before we get to the marriage system I have in mind, first let's delve into another thing. God. Or in this case. Deities. As in my version of HB/HH I write about in my AU there are several of them. All of which are different High authority figures of which the main ones are five and I will name all of them: First one is Lucifer

Who in this version is... not as nice. In fact he is very, VERY cruel being. One that has little qualms about lives of anyone else. A being of Chaos from the times of the Rebellion in Heaven which he lead against God after he corrupted humanity to prove to The Almighty of his superiority, of that he is deserving of love much greater than mortals. Cast out from Heaven alongside all those that took side with him.

Now in Hell he embodies Pride that shaped the top layer of Hell. He is a Deity that preaches ultimate freedom. He preaches the idea of that you deserve all that you want. That every feeling, every desire you feel is correct and that you alone are deserving of those no matter what anyone says, no matter who it hurts. All that is important is you. That is the crux of those who follow him. Hedonists, narcissists, cruel, chaotic beings of pure selfishness who believe in righteousness of their desires and standing up against any authority that wants to keep them away from fulfilling their dreams and when all dreams become reality, there is no other outcome than Chaos which Lucifer adores.

They are called Light Takers. For Lucifer is one who brings light and those who follow him, take said light and all that they want.

That is Lucifer and now let's get to the Deity right under him that sides with him more so than the other one, another creature of Chaos (also be mindful that this is just short summary of those things, I can go more in depth about each one in other posts). Satan:

I don't have a better image as my idea of how he looks is pretty different. I imagine him as a centaur like being with a lower body similar to a bull, more human like torso, a head similar to one on this app with mighty wings and 4 arms. A brutal, relentless deity, one who's philosophy is to spread death and prepare for fight against the Heaven. To drown the world in the blood of his enemies and for the bodies and blood to rise so high so that he can approach the Heaven's gates.

His followers are mostly Imps. Many of them sharing to lesser or greater extent this philosophy of slaughter. It gives them meaning to kill and make their own trail of Blood as they follow in the hoove steps of the Lord of Slaughter. Followers of Blood they are called. A numerous force of berserkers devoted to mindless murder and Chaos.

With all this Chaos there has to be a balance point though right? You'd be correct. As on the opposite end of the Chaos spread by Lucifer and Satan is The Lord Governor:

Lucifuge Rofocale. He is in my version very similar to this depiction, although he very rarely smiles. He is known also as Bitter Governor for his rivalry with Lucifer in which he is mostly ignored by the latter as he tries to gain control over the Chaos of Hell.

He is the creature who values Order more so than anything. He is the Lawmaker. He is the lord of Laws that he writes into his Great Book, many laws there are, some of which contradict each other, some forgotten, other irrelevant. All his. He is the cruelty of order and subjugation incarnate. His name itself Lucifuge is one that was given to him after rebellion in which he took side of Lucifer in order to create a perfect society of his own. A society that was never to be. He who runs from Light for he was a Throne Angel of greater light than any other, a Light so strong he could never know even a smallest shadow. Light that he hated above all and could never fully rid himself off of it's taint.

When he came to Hell his Pride alongside Lucifer's shaped the Entire Ring. Lucifer controls the Central parts where Pentagram City is located and Lucifuge controls outer rings of Pride where his 5 towers on borders of Pride spreading to the blood sky surround the Chaos of Lucifer. His desire of control made manifest. A control he spreads with his Emissaries. Those who follow him and his laws faithfully and spread them with unmatched zeal. And his most faithful and powerful servant is the 4th of the Main Deities. The Silent King of all Ars Goetia.

King Baal. His version in my AU is based on this picture. A creature with lower body of a Spider and torso of a man with head of a King with long hair at the top. Which ever direction he looks, his face changes shape, if to his right it takes form of a cat and left is the frog. Among the deities he alongside Satan were born in Hell and were since time of their Hell's manifestation bitter rivals and his beloved is Queen of Gluttony Beelzebub which is often a target of mockery. A spider who beds a bug instead of eating it, but no care to those words are given, no words... Only silence. Pride was originally meant to be his as it would embody his silence, but it was not to be as the Fall happened and Pride was born from the quiet grounds.

He was named an Ars Goetia by Lucifuge to whom he pledged allegiance to in Silent Promise and ever since his invisible web spread across skies of Pride, woven from threads attached to every life among Ars Goetia and to cut it is to be a Heretic condemned to suffering at the hand of Silent King. Baal's Faithful who are his followers are mostly Ars Goetia. All believing in Hell's security to be utmost priority. To make it safe at any means necessary. To make sure that Hell will be eternal and all who fall into it's flames will never escape it's torment. He is the one who keeps the Ars Goetia in check to follow the laws Lord Lucifuge laid out. For maybe side of Chaos has numbers and ferocity, but Order has power and stability.

A balance that is most crucial to never ending conflict festered by the most enigmatic and possibly most terrible of the Five. Mephistopheles.

Who's looks are as everchanging as interpretations of how he looks. A Demon who fooled the world into believing he was, but a made up Demon in a story about Faust. Always cloaked in shadows creature, that despite looking a lot of times like the most basic denizen of Hell, is anything, but. As his nature is a mystery to all who inhabit it. A creature of Darkness that remembers the time of the first words that is alien to both Heaven and Hell. One that gave Hell it's currency made of Souls it caught with contracts they make on earth. A Creature that always maintains the balance of both sides. Making sure there is never a conclusion to this bitter conflict and flames of Discord never fade. Something that is cherished by his Brethren in Dark.

To be Mephisto's Brethren in Dark is to commune and listen to Mephisto's words. You are what you are. There is no change to that. So live your life as you see fit. Make of your life anything you want. Be it for order or chaos. Be it for your desire or duty. What is important is to know who you are and to believe in his words. It is to be on the side of yours and his and all that you must have will come to you, but the price will have to be paid, but it does not have to come from you now has it? No... You use others as much as you are used. You know that very well. You always will. For you are rotten, but so is everything else. So is that so bad?

There are many other deities. Such as King Paimon, by many considered as one of the if not the mightiest among Kings. A being who's promise of seeing his Labyrinth makes many shudder at the mere thought. Or the Sins who's patronage seek those who live on their rings. But the choice is up to the Hellborn... aside from mostly Hellhounds, who mostly only reside and do labor for the Beelzebub. A Cerberus insect of endless hunger.

But there is one more path. On the side of neutrality is also another side. Hell. To listen to the will of Hell.

Listeners of Hell are those who feel the very wind among the bloody streets. To know intimately the desires of the ground you walk on. To serve Hell as it's listener and to reinforce it's will. This is path for those who seek a different path from all other deities. But to do so is to give all that you are to the home you have. Not to protect, but understand it. Breathe with it and to be a true part of it. Closer than many others.

These are all the paths Hellborn can... or rather have to choose. Because atheism is not possible in this realm. Hellborn have to believe in something otherwise it means they are a traitor to the Hell itself. Whatever one believes in it is up to the Hellborn in question. But the choice it is one Hellborn MUST make.

Now... after this little mythology lesson where does this lead in terms of marriages? Well. The marriage in itself is also a deal between deities. Each side has their own contract that has to be signed by the priest of their respective deity. And each priest is of different kind. Emissary is a political for the most part. Mephisto's Brethren could be of any kind. A soldier of Baal. Hedonistic royal of Lucifer. Berserker of Satan. If both sides worship same deity it means less issues, but both contracts are still required.

Both sides need to sign their respective contract and then place their cut hands on those contracts as they are connected by their blank sides. Letting their blood seep into them as both of them touch them. Letting their blood, believes and word to connect them forevermore, for them both to be servants together. That is unless one has a change of faith which may require redoing of the process at the chance of being shunned by everyone around. For it is a shame to be someone to turns away from their God.

So yeah... This is how I would personally write certain part of Mythology of Hell. I know I did not elaborate on certain other things like Paimon or Sins, but I think this is a good enough of a starting point to the mythology I want to make with 3 sides here. Chaos, Order and Neutrality. All with their own strengths and weaknesses. All with their own stories and people who worship them. All with their own traditions, beliefs and personalities... All of it... because I was iffy by the fucking Exs and Ohs priest. I need serious mental help. This is just sad to look at. Then again if you read this far, I guess we all lost here. Or maybe you liked it. If so then please leave a comment or something. I cherish those. And maybe think of who you would choose to follow.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel redesign #helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss redesign #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop

[yuesgirlfriend]

of birds and honey

(simon "ghost" riley x reader) medieval AU

part 1/part 2/part 3

warnings: canon typical violence, masturbation (afab)

A week passes without much happening.

Excitement over new knights has died down, and the people go back to their regular routine. Wool is spun, gardens are weeded, new straw with sweet smelling sprigs of rosemary is spread over the floor. Peasants in distant fields begin planting and tilling as spring slowly settles into the dreary air. 

 She feigns reading when her father discusses defenses with the Knight Commander Price, hears gossip of French ships breaching southern shores by the kitchens, and overhears one of the knights (Garrick, she heard his name was) express worry about leaked battle plans and French spies. 

She does not see the man called Ghost again, until one afternoon she is practicing embroidery while balanced on a windowsill overlooking the courtyard. 

Shouts sound out from down below- when she glances down, a small crowd has gathered around two figures circling eachother.  

She rushes to the scene when sounds of steel striking steel begin to ring out. Down the stairs, past the hall, through the kitchens, and there he is- Ghost- swinging a blade towards another knight.

 A duel, a duel! Sir Graves and the Ghost!

Says one of the stable boys as the other man- Graves- dodges another strike. She pushes her way to the front of the crowd, needing to see every line of Ghost’s armored body as he grunts and dodges. He moves like he is dancing, brutal and calculated. 

Duels are vicious, bloody ordeals- very few have ever happened under her fathers watch, the clergy under his thumb finding the merciless bloodshed godless. But now her father watches from his balcony as Ghost parries Graves thrust and, with one fluid motion, takes his head. 

Something wet and warm splatters across her face. She doesn’t flinch. 

While Ghost holds the mans head by the helmet and roars warnings of what happens to traitors to the rest of the watching, silent knights and crowd of stunned servants, she stares at the red hot blood splattered across her shoes and silken surcoat and tries to put a name to the feeling coiling in her stomach. 

The sky is streaked with red as the run sets into the horizon, as if God saw the blood in the courtyard and took inspiration. Every sound and color seems muted, unable to break through the buzzing in her ears. She spends the rest of the evening picking flecks of blood off her face, feigning a headache and skipping dinner. 

Her hands don’t stop shaking, and she’s filled with the need to run, to move. Once the sun sets, she slinks out of her room. Favoring the shadows and moving only when sentries are turned away, she makes her way to the highest peak of outer wall. The stars peek over the horizon, the moon hanging above them like a pearl. 

A shiver runs through her when her eyes land on the hulking form standing over the parapet. She moves on soundless, slippered feet towards him. 

“Lady.” He says as if in greeting. How he heard her, she’ll never know. 

“It must be true, what the cook says.” She steps up beside him, overlooking the dark his surrounding the castle, the plains muddled together under the blanket of night. 

“And what is that?” His voice is gruff, his hood up over his masked face. 

“That you have got eyes in the back of your head.” 

That’s the abridged version of what the cook had said; she had overheard the old man telling the maids of rumors he had heard- that the Ghost was the spawn of the devil, a witches son, a biblically deformed creature hiding 9 eyes and countless heads beneath the mask.

Something vindictive and admittedly childish had rose up in her and led to her placing several handfuls of nettles in the cooks bed. 

She refused to feel guilty, even when she spotted the irritated welts on the mans skin the next day- was it not the prophet Amos who said to let justice roll on like a river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream? 

He lets out a huff. Something tells her this is as close to a laugh as he will give her. For a long moment, there is only silence broken by the occasional scurry of a rat, as they stand watching the night where it’s unfolded before them. 

“There’s a storm on it’s way, lady.” His gloved fingers tighten where they grip the stone. She wishes he would turn, so she could see his eyes. “It’d be wise if your father sent you somewhere far.”  

“I’m stronger than I seem- have faith, I can weather any storm, sir. And the stronghold is well defended.” 

“‘S not the stronghold I worry about. It’s the people.” Finally, he turns to face her- in the moonlight, his eyes look like moons themselves, haloed by a dark night of greasepaint. 

“Be careful who you trust, lady.” In one fluid motion, he takes off his cloak and wraps it around her shoulders before bodily turning her away. “Get back inside. You’re father would have my head if I let ya freeze.” 

She follows his orders without question. Maybe he really is a witches son,  she thinks as she slinks back into her quarters. 

The fire is nothing more than a collection of dim coals, now. Wrapping the Ghost’s cloak tighter around herself, she tosses another log onto the fire and crawls into her bed. 

The feeling from earlier that day is back- the tensing, the coiling in her stomach, the heat in her abdomen as if someone is churning her chest over hot coals. Usually venturing out at night cures her of this incessent, shaky need to move, but this time, it had only exacerbated it. 

Squirming around, she buries her nose in his cloak. Ghost’s cloak. It smells of lye soap, wood ash, cold night air.  

Some kind of hot and heavy pressure hangs in her stomach- her thighs rub together, twisted around her sheet, and that seems to help for a moment, but then it gets worse. 

Without thinking, she sends a trembling hand down between her legs- to her womanhood, as her old governess would have said- and adds more pressure. And, oh-  that is new.

She hesitantly moves this wetness around, up and down, until her back arches off the mattress, until she masters this new feeling and she has to bury her moans in the rough frabric of Ghost’s cloak.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw ghost #cod mwii x reader #simon riley x reader angst #part 2 coming soon #call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons

[deadlyflames]

“Ever since I was a child, I felt like greatness was in store for me. A great life, I felt. Like God himself had spat me forth to land on this Earth and in some way transform it. That I was here for a reason, a purpose.”

“Why did He make you a woman, then?”

“For comedy, I guess.”

“If there's one thing you didn't like about me... a tiny aspect, and there may not be, probably there isn't, but if there is one thing I could change about my relatively flawless self, what would it be?”

“Your mercurial violence.”

“Really? Huh. Father always thought that my best quality. He'd say, ‘There's not much going on in there, but give him a knife and light his wick, the boy has something.’"

“You fucking bitch. I loved you.”

“And you feel this has affected that love detrimentally?”

“The fact you're trying to kill me, indeed. It has cast a pall. Un-fucking believable. I'm about to cut your throat, and you're making jokes.”

“Perhaps that is why you love me.”

So I finally started watching The Great and got hit with inspiration. This would also make a good bonkai au but Klonnie owns my heart.

Bonnie has Catherine’s moral righteousness and while also having her moments of ruthlessness.

Klaus is smarter than Peter but I would say he is definitely the same level of bad leader lol. Disrespectful to the people who work for him, arrogant and hyper violent. But secretly desperate to be loved.

#the vampire diaries #Tvd #klaus mikaelson #bonnie bennett #Klonnie #Bonnie x Klaus #the great au #Tvd au #Klonnie au #the great

[fanged-cotl]

ITS THE SAME ANON THAT ASKED ABOUT NARI'S CHILDHOOD HIII

I have to apologize, I am genuinely obsessed with your Au, its so well written and it absolutely makes my day better when you give us lore!! While looking/reading at your recent art, I could feel the emotions from it. The tragedy... The pain, and you draw it so perfectly. I had to put my phone down for a while and just absorb it in because it was that POWERFUL.

Now, another question if that's okay! From what I Anzyaled, Shamura took Nari in, and cared for him. They were a big sister figure to him right? (Or at least a guardian) OHHH IM GETTING CURIOUS ABOUT HOW HE CAME TO BE A GOD OF DEATH...

I have to apologize, I am genuinely obsessed with your Au, its so well written and it absolutely makes my day better when you give us lore!! While looking/reading at your recent art, I could feel the emotions from it. The tragedy… The pain, and you draw it so perfectly. I had to put my phone down for a while and just absorb it in because it was that POWERFUL.

THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS MADE MY WHOLE DAY DUDE U HAVE NO IDEA HERES A REALLY CONFUSING INFO-DUMP FOR YOU!

Shamura, God of Knowledge and War, took the nameless cursed kitten into the family. They named him "Narinder" King of Souls, when crowning him. (Because Shamura gained the crown of knowledge, they wanted to know everything about crowns, purpose, magic, ect. This was a moment of opportunity for them when they found the red crown.)

They spent thousands of years leading Narinder alongside the rest of the bishops, to master their domains and grow close as a family. Narinder was born into death, and Shamura would help him master it. Since the siblings were crowned, the lands began to change, new species would arise into sentience, cults raised in the names of gods, chaos, famine, sickness would spread, sacrifices would be made in order for both sides to thrive.

Narinder was not alone in being born (or turned) demonic in nature. He was simply the first. And in Shamura's curiosity, they would help him know this, and master death and manipulation of the mortals, who's lives were too short to see the lands around them shift and bend to match their gods over such a long time. Cults in Darkwood, Anura, Anchordeep, and the Silk Cradle would sacrifice their people, and Narinder would gain power from a portion of these souls. Some souls can be used for their god's needs and, some can be sent to the afterlife. This was Narinder's occupation. Shamura guided Leshy, Heket, Kallamar and Narinder into their god-hoods as well as managing their own and discovering as much as they could about magic and godhood. (Since each of the 4 gods rose, their new anthro races rose with them, and thus created a perpetual cycle of sacrificial religion- that the original mammalian anthros often joined out of fear or force. People would either become demonic via ritual (become turned) or be born demonic and serve there gods meanwhile the land around them was changing over thousands of years, things were getting worse and worse. Kallamar's people were getting sicker. Heket's hungrier, shamura's more animistic, Leshy's more savage. All of them sacrificing harder, praying harder, ritualizing harder, dedicating their lives, economy and infrastructure to their religions and becoming more and more devoted- not realizing the lands around them have completely morphed, in physically impossible ways to match their new gods in a sense of false beauty and righteousness. It is for the good of all that lives that these lands were severed from the rest of the world)

But Narinder was never a 4th horseman of the apocalypse. He never really had a land of his own, though he did have his worshipers. His siblings were happy, but Narinder wanted more.

#lambi-au #cult of the lamb au #cotl au #bishops #infodump #ask #cotl narinder #cotl leshy #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #cotl heket

[dianneking]

It’s not too late if we’re alive (Brienne/Reader)

A/N: It’s Day Two of May Trope Mayhem by @duckprintspress​ and I’ve never felt so inspired to write! Today’s prompt is War Setting so you get a WWII AU Brienne x Reader fic, because why not! (thanks to @weemssapphic​ for our historical AU talk, that made me buckle down and write). As always, link to AO3 in title below.

Disclaimer: I didn’t have the time to properly research this, so there might be historical inaccuracies on technical stuff like how war hospitals were organized etc. Disclaimer # 2: I seem physically unable to keep my fics under 1000w, blame the angst, not me.

Tags: War, WWII, Hospitals, Wounds  (not graphic), Talk of Death, Talk of Bombing, Smoking, Second-person Narrator, Angst, Breakups, Angst with a Happy Ending, No use of Y/N.

Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Brienne of Tarth/Reader Wordcount: 1258w

It’s not too late if we’re alive

Any day that passed, you knew it could happen. You were at war after all. Day in and day out the battles raged, and humans fought against other humans, machines against other machines, metal ringing against metal, their screams loud in the smoke-filled air. 

They fell in troves. Some made it to you, others weren’t so lucky. And you knew that Brienne was there in the trenches, amongst her soldiers, leading them, the first woman to ever serve in the British Army, the first one to rise to the rank of officer.

Every time you woke up from your fitful slumber, every time a wounded soldier was brought in for treatment, you prayed not to recognize her on the stretcher, not to see her cornsilk hair matted with blood underneath the helmet. One day your prayers went unanswered.

“Chief Nurse! Hurry! It’s the lieutenant-general!”

After all this time, her figure was still so achingly familiar to you as the litter bearer brought her in, her long limbs limp on the stretcher, soot and blood marring the uniform she was so proud of.

Up until now you had managed to avoid her, only catching glimpses of her when she came to visit the wounded, but now here she was, bare inches away from you. She was still beautiful, even with the inevitable traces of time and war. It took all of your strength not to reach out and brush your fingers against the soft skin of her jaw. You shouldn’t.

After all, the last words you had exchanged had not been the friendly sort.

*

“Will you at least promise me you’ll come back?” you had asked. She had already donned her uniform, and the coarse wool scratched your palm as you put your hand on her elbow.

“You know I cannot promise you that.”

“But I love you.”

Her face had hardened, as it always did when you told her how you felt. You had told yourself that she was simply unused to being loved. But a dark voice within you was starting to ask whether it was because she was ashamed of you, or frustrated with your clinginess. Whatever the reason, she never said those words back.

“You shouldn’t say those things so lightly.”

“Just because you refuse to accept my feelings for you doesn’t mean that they are not real.”

“You are young, but you were never naïve. This was never something that could last.”

You had been young at the time, true. You had never experienced heartbreak before. Even the simple act of breathing sent searing pain through your chest. Your eyes had filled with tears, and your mouth with rage.

“Is that all it was to you? Just something to keep you entertained between wars?”

She had not dared to answer you. To this day, you still wondered why. Was it because it had been more for her as well and she didn’t want to lie to your face, or was it because she didn’t want to admit that she, Captain Brienne of Tarth, paradigm of righteousness, had used you for your affection just for as long as she had needed a warm body?

You had been young at the time, and first love is never easily forgotten. Even if unrequited.  

*

“Is God so unmerciful then?” The sudden sound of her voice in the silence of the officers tent almost made you drop the bandages you were carrying. You turned to her, wondering if she was growing delirious due to the high fevers she was running. But her eyes, wide and feverish though they were, were trained on you, with razor-sharp focus. “Have I not atoned for my past mistakes with my deeds? Why must He torture me with cruel visions?”

Oh.

She thought you were a fever dream, one sent to torture her. You pretended it didn’t hurt. It shouldn’t have, not as much as it did. Not even if she had been your first love.

Your only love, corrected a voice inside of you that sounded a lot like your younger self.

“Lieutenant-general, I am not a vision. I am merely the chief nurse. You should try to rest. You have been injured on the battlefield.”

“Is…is it truly you?”

“It is. But I am only here to treat your wounds, not to dig up the past.”

“How are you alive?”

“How is anyone alive these days? Luck, probably.”

“I thought you died in the Coventry bombing.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I sent you letters, and you never answered. I came over last year, but nobody could tell me anything about you. Our house was nothing but a pile of rubble. I thought…”

“Oh, is it our house now? I don’t recall you showing any particular attachment to it when you left.” She was surprised at your vitriol, you could see it in the way her deep blue eyes widened, and in the uncharacteristically hesitation in her answer.

“Darling, I-“

You suddenly felt ashamed of how easily her mere presence could drag out all of your pain, making you feel like that day on your doorstep, watching her walk away, her military boots crushing your heart with each step.

“There are no darlings here. It’s Chief Nurse if you need to address me. But right now, I don’t have time for idle chatter.”

You turned away from her, leaving her behind as she did to you so much time ago.

*

She found you some days later, as you were trying to enjoy the luxury of a short smoke break hidden behind the hospital barracks. She was still limping, but her skin had lost most of its sickly paleness, and she looked even more like the Brienne you used to know. The Brienne you used to love.

“How did you end up becoming a nurse?”

“I was told to do something useful with my life since I refused to marry. I did.”

“You…refused to marry?”

“Lieutenant-general, I hardly think…”

“Brienne. It’s Brienne to you. It’s always been.” You committed the mistake of looking up into her eyes, and instantly felt the irresistible pull they had on you. As if she had never left. You averted your gaze angrily and took a deep drag from the cigarette in your hands, trying to center yourself once again.

“What is your purpose here, Brienne?”

“I thought I had lost you, and I thought I would never be able to tell you. Seeing you here, alive, accomplished, breathtakingly beautiful, it…it felt like a second chance I never deserved to have.”

“Tell me what?”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret walking away from you. I’m sorry.”

The unexpectedness of the apology took you by surprise and you turned to her, only to find her much closer than you expected. The words you were thinking of saying died in your throat as you drowned in the maelstrom of feelings within her eyes. She hesitatingly reached a hand over to cup your cheek, as if afraid you’ll suddenly disappear, and her voice was low and broken with a heartache you instantly recognized. It was twin to your own.

 “I love you. I always have. I’m sorry I’m only telling you now. I know it’s too late.”

Her eyes swam with tears, and her face was suddenly getting closer and closer. You reached with a hand behind her neck and pulled her even closer, whispering against her lips, as if it was a secret meant only for her and her alone.

“It’s not too late if we’re alive.”

Liked it? You can find all of my fics on my fanfiction masterlist!

#brienne x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne of tarth/reader #game of thrones fanfiction #got #dianneking #dianneking fanfiction #dianneking writes #dragonmist fanfiction #gwendoline christie fanfiction #gwendoline christie characters #tw:war #tw:wwii #tw:hospitals #tw:wounds #tw:bombing #tw: hospedalization #angst #angst with a happy ending #wlw #gender neutral reader #no y/n #tw: breakup #may trope mayhem 2023

[quillandink333]

#wish I didn’t have to put a time limit on this :/ #maybe I’ll do this again if/when I put a caard together #quillzuma🐍🪶 #kazelia 🐍🌼 #fun fact! Cecelia was actually her middle name her first name was Emily~ #musician au #god of righteousness au #pixie hollow au #star wars au #daihakuja au #yakuza au #catboy au #twisted karma au #poll

[daenystheedreamer]

throbb athlete au. prime minister stannis baratheon has cracked down on athlete doping and now athletes are desperate for enhancements that wont show up in drug piss tests. theon and co are snake oil salesmen selling like dried and powderised squid testicles and fish sperm saying its the masculine panacea and are selling to guys on robb's team. robb is a good boy who would never do drugs and is righteously mad about it and he and theon can hate fuck about it. theon's like there if a man wants to snort powdered fish semen that is his perogative dont belive the government they are putting milk of the poppy in the vaccine to sterilise the ironborn #sovereigncitizen #TheSilenceIsComing and robb is like god i wanna fuck the annoying out of you

#presenting this to grrm and saying this is what i am doing with your magnum opus #throbb

[deconstructthesoup]

I saw a D&D AU with the Voices, and I decided that I also wanted to do a D&D AU with the Vessels, so here goes:

*cracks knuckles*

The players are the chapter 2 vessels, who have joined together after they were each mysteriously attacked---and nearly kidnapped---by worshipers of a primordial god only known as The Narrator. Even though they're all vastly different people with vastly different motivations, they have to work together in order to figure out how they've somehow angered a long-forgotten god.

The Tower is a scourge aasimar and an Oath of Conquest paladin, who devoted herself to The Apotheosis, queen of the gods and the embodiment of justice and retribution. She acts as the self-appointed leader of the group, even though a good chunk of the other players are having none of her self-righteousness and narcissism. She doesn't believe that the Narrator actually exists, and considers the quest to just be another heretic-killing spree.

The Adversary is a tiefling Ancestral Guardians barbarian, who grew up in a rough-and-tumble all-barbarian community and is slated to become its next leader. She's just happy to travel around the world bashing heads, and she winds up clashing the most with Tower---mainly due to their very different backgrounds. She genuinely doesn't care who or what the Narrator is, and just wants to kick ass and have a good time.

The Spectre is a ghost and a necromancer wizard, who actually died when she was attacked and has brought herself back in order to track down her killer and to take her revenge. She kind of lost herself in the ivory tower of academia when she was alive, and part of the reason she's sticking with the others is so she can actually form connections before it's truly too late. She's studied several old cults in her time, but the only thing she's found of The Narrator is an old painting of a crow with sharp teeth...

The Nightmare is a dhampir and an Undead warlock, who draws her magic from the dread vampire queen who turned her. She is no stranger to being hunted, for people fear and shun vampires and their spawn, but she knows full well that this time is different. And during the attack, she managed to devour a dream of her would-be captor, getting a little glimpse into the ancient powers of the god that wants her gone... and, well, who can resist the allure of taking down a being as old as time?

The Witch is a tabaxi Circle of Spores druid and an Arcane Trickster rogue, who's been living on her own in the woods after suffering a great betrayal and heartbreak that damaged her trust in anyone. She's only working with the others because she believes she'll get further if she does, and while she initially intends to backstab them once they're no longer useful, she finds herself growing closer to them as their journey continues. All she really wants is to go back to her old life... but her goal may change as her walls begin to come down.

The Prisoner is a human Armorer artificer, who once angered an archfey and was cursed to always be bound in chains. Undeterred, she turned this to her advantage, reforging her chains into armor that she could use as a weapon. She starts traveling with the rest purely due to self-preservation, as every time she resolved to just hide, The Narrator's worshipers found her again---but she's definitely the practical mind that they needed.

The Damsel is a half-elf College of Creation bard and a Beastmaster ranger, and she's a princess whose kingdom was usurped by an evil family member, leaving her on the run. She's very naive about how the world works, mainly due to being sheltered her entire life, and is sure that this situation can be solved with a nice conversation. Thankfully, she has someone to help her...

The Beast is a fey that was cursed to take the form of a barely-sapient panther, and she barely recalls her life in the Feywild. Still, she has a soft spot for the innocent princess she came across in the woods one day, and she will protect her for as long as she can.

The Razor is an elf Soulknife rogue and a College of Swords bard, and she's actually a pretty well-known circus performer. She's absolute chaos personified, and she really doesn't give a shit about The Narrator either way---she's just ready to kick ass, stab people, and hang out with her new best friends. Even if not all of them are super into being friends with the crazy blade lady.

And last but not least, The Stranger is a changeling Divine Soul sorcerer and a Grave Domain cleric, who unknowingly draws their power from the long-forgotten goddess of change, transformation, endings, and new beginnings. They woke up one day with no memory of who they were, and were immediately attacked for reasons they could not explain---so, needless to say, they're pretty traumatized. It also doesn't help that they don't even know what they really look like, so they're constantly changing to reflect what people expect of them... which isn't the most healthy thing, but they're an amnesiac, give them a break.

So... yeah!

#the chapter 3 vessels are either gods or monsters #slay the princess #dnd #stp the tower #stp the adversary #stp the spectre #stp the nightmare #stp the witch #stp the prisoner #stp the damsel #stp the beast #stp the razor #stp the stranger

[lullabyes22-blog]

I am bleeding AUs :,)

May I present to you “oops my XO is a god with amnesia” (she’s not actually a god she’s just the horseman of war, who arrived in the undercity due to the rising social war between the undercity and topside and then decided to stay: attaching herself to a family and forgetting everything) 

Upon her “reawakening” several things can be noticed 

Sevika constantly smells like both freshly spilled blood and *drum roll please* maraschino cherries. It’s a very bizarre concoction that no one ever gets used to. 

Secondly if she enters a room with a jukebox or a gramophone that is active, whatever song is playing immediately turns into ‘Devl’s Got The Blues’ and will get progressively louder the longer someone tries to turn it off. 

Silco has noticed that if Sevika stares at someone long enough or vise versa the afflicted mortal will have be sudden urge to throttle the person immediately next to them. This has led to many a bar fight, and broken pens as he does not wish to harm Jinx. A pair of sunglasses has seemed to quell the issue, for now. 

Sevika still hates the water, but if she inserts a limb into the Pilt, blood will seep from her skin and into the water; attracting many water beasts. 

When she fights it’s less like a human being is moving around and more like something ungodly is unfolding in front of him. The first time this happened he missed the actual fight and only rounded the corner to see her standing as straight as a pole, eyes closed. When she opened them a black tendril curled behind her eyes within her sclera and something even bigger under the surface of her skin. 

The most concerning aspect: Jinx is now scared of her. Actively avoiding the ogre at app costs, and acting like a possessed cat when she is forced to occupy the same space. 

And lastly a horse has started to roam the streets, reportedly it’s favorite food is live crows. Her name is Deinos. 

Hgfds

I love this AU. Blood cherry-scented Sevika. Killer of pens and stirrer of bar fights 🤣💗

(And she's a secret Horse Girl!)

I'm sure Silco would be disbelieving, then awed if he learnt her true origins. If anything it's a sign of the righteousness of his cause - an apocalyptic horsewoman attached herself to Zaun, meaning some warlike entity out there approves of what they're doing.

Cue him taking advantage by having a small 'cult' spring up around his XO... while he delicately questions her on whether she has 'siblings' who can also be summoned to attack cities.

😈

#asks #silco #arcane silco #arcane sevika #sevika #forward (never forget)/xoxo #forward but never forget/xoxo

[sleepingdayaway]

Mess AU

Okay I did another thing except this time it’s from @cloudninetonine mess au which I highly recommend you check out!

I sorta had an idea when I was thinking about it, but when I actually started writing it just all went away. So yeah sorry if it sucks-

If [Name] is going to be completely honest, they weren’t expecting this outcome as they sat with Nat. Currently the both of them are sitting together; enjoying a variety of fruits on a plate, as they observe the big man interacting with the other Ganon’s in the group. A small thought appeared in [color hair] as they chewed on a grape, ‘If Sky was here he would be losing his shit over them.’

As if knowing he was mentioned, the flame hair colored man perked up to look at the two who sat away from the rest. He had a huge figure, the same fiery red hair as his other incarnations, but looking closer it’s as if his hair was actually fire. The only difference is his body compared to the others. 

If a regular person were to take a quick glance they would think nothing of it, except when you look closer you can see the dark scales with a hint of red covering his body. The red in between the scales looks to be dimming out, as if to match his breathing. Looking up at his face the first thing you would see is the ‘X’ scar right in the middle of his forehead. The face and build of a man who has seen war, and has lived through it himself. The mix of a humanoid man, but also something that is inhuman.

No wonder, throughout history many have called him the Demon King.

But as [Name] watched the man walk over to them, the aura that radiated around him was not one of a god who brought hate and fear into the lives of many. Instead it was one of hesitance and unsure on whether it was alright for him to approach; he stares at the duo as if asking for their permission to get closer. In sync [Name] and Nat turn their heads to look at each other and squint their eyes, in a silent conversation. Nat looks up at the man before hesitantly nodding meanwhile [Name] grabbed at a strawberry to snack on.

Demise, the all mighty, the one who cursed the Chosen Hero and Hylia’s incarnation in an infinite cycle of hatred. Carefully lowered himself on the grassy ground before the two friends, and carefully observed them, not once uttering a single word. From behind the strange group, stood a man carefully eyeing them, a sense of wanting to be near them, but he didn’t act on it as he walked away.

Nature, one of the incarnations of the man before him, has no clue on how to feel about the man that sits in front of him. The other Ganon’s seemed a bit standoffish at first to him, but appeared to slowly warm up as they continued their adventure. Especially King and Eve, who looked to hang onto every word that Demise says. Nat always knew what he had to do to keep everything in order for the world to function, and knew that during his time there was someone that guided him. To put it simply, it’s just a bit awkward to finally meet the person who helped you, after a long time. 

[Name] knows all about Demise; his purpose and what he has done. As well as the importance of the balance that he brings to the world, if spending long agonizing hours to days on the concept of righteousness and the evil and torment of the world counts as understanding. Yet as they stare at Demise and notice how he struggles to speak to them, that throws away all negative stereotypes that had built up from the years of lore they’ve read. He kind of looks like a father who has no idea on how to communicate with his child instead just sits there and believes that they’re spending time together.

It was a moment of awkward silence between the three of them, [Name] and Nat still enjoying the fruits, until it was surprisingly broken by Demise. “I have been told that you are not connected with any of my descendants, that you merely happened to come across in their travels.” 

A natural side eye occurred as he glanced at the Master Sword that is sheathed beside [Name]; that did not go unnoticed by them. There was a faint pulse of a blue glow when his eyes landed on the weapon. Maintaining eye contact with the Demon King as they spoke up without hesitance in their voice, “I’m no hero, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”  

“Yet you hold the sword that was forged by Hylia herself, and was wielded by her Chosen Hero.” He responded with a calm tone; although his facial features say a different tale he made no move to do anything. Tide who had been listening in on the conversation subtly shifted to be closer, in case he needed to intervene. 

Shuffling in their seat at the question that was directed towards them, “That is true, I’m aware that you have history with this sword, but it is currently in my care. I also have no affiliation to those people.” Demise huffs slightly at that response before sitting up more; glancing down at them as if he is trying to appear more menacing. It was at this moment did [Name] finally realize who they were talking to, silently cursing under their breath.

“Tell me young one, what exactly are your motives? You must have some connection towards the Goddess.” 

[Name] blinks a couple times before speaking, “None- I actually don’t know why I ended up here, but all I can say is that I’m grateful for everyone here. I owe them a lot.”

Now that caught Demise’s attention as he leaned a bit forward, “Is that so? Would you care to-”

“Alright! I think that’s enough on interrogating my friend,” Nat replied as he slightly shoved Demise away from [Name], and began leaning into them more which reminded them of when Wind would also do the same whenever they didn’t want to explain something.

Tide, who was watching everything, smiled softly at Nature’s protective action. Yes, they’ve all grown fond of the little traveler. Swearing with all the power that they hold that they would keep [Name] safe, and help them return back to their original group. Slowly did that topic of conversation change amongst them, and now they appear to be in deep conversation about a certain topic.

One that has [Name] talking animatedly about and with Demise listening intently. Nat, who began sharing the platter of assortment of fruit, also spoke up a couple of times. Tide, feeling the need to no longer worry, returned his gaze to the one person, who appeared to yearn on joining. No matter how much he tries to hide it.

The man sat in front of Tide with a neutral expression on his face. Shockingly white hair covers one of his eyes as he stares intently into the open flame without flinching away from the light. His red cloak lays neatly folded beside him, before looking up at the man who has been nothing but kind to him.

“Ghirahim, you do realize that you have the right to speak to him, correct?”

Ghirahim looks up in a slight daze, his visible eye appearing hazy for a moment before closing and shaking head. A smirk lifts on his painted lips and a facade of mischief covers his face. “I’m well aware of what I can and cannot do, such a foolish question.”

Although that doesn’t discourage the older figure from trying to bring comfort. It’s the least he can do for the companion of his predecessor, the one who’s been there since the beginning, but he was also the one who has been disconnected from Demise the longest. 

#mess au #linked universe x reader #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #i accidently made demise idk out of character #my bad yall

[bwoahtastic]

I loveee pagan au please expand!

Just plss!! Maybe Nico as god of smthn nature related, or even maybe of righteousness or smthn cool and he has plenty of temples around! He doesn't have many kids, only one every few decades or so and loves them dearly, and mourns them for ages after they pass away. Maybe after losing one of his kids he vows to not have kids again, but then he finds a tiny toddler who can barely crawl yet in his temple, happy and chonqy but alone, dressed in simple white as if an offering so Nico assumes they are.

Nico taking the little one in and demanding the other gods agree that the tint toddler is now a demigod lol, just arguing and being petty until they relent!

Maybe a few days after finding the child, Nico returns to the temple as there have been many more offerings than usual, and finds his priest Max looking absolutely heartbroken, tears on his cheeks and skinny and tired as he mutters prayers. The child reacting to Max, iggling to go to hum and Nico realises this is max's baby!

Max being happy to have his child back in his arms but so scarwd of Nico, whispering he is sorry for embarrassing nico and that he will leave... but Nico makes them stay!

#asks #pagan gods au

[muzzleroars]

Hear me out, if Michael believes that even the lowest sinner deserves absolute punishment and V2 was programed to protect people could this lead to arguments or even conflicts between the two of them?

Like, I can't imagine Michael would possibly have anything against V2 wishing to avoid fights but what if Michael wished harm against a husk, such as what he did with the Ferryman, while V2 didn't see them as deserving it (I would guess that as a peacekeeper V2 has some sort of "judge-and-jury.exe" sort thing that let's her judge whether or not someone is a threat or something). Would V2 actively seek to protect a husk if they deemed they weren't a threat, such as a husk living under Minos' protection?

Also, thanks for making this amazing au! You really don't get enough credit for all the hard work that you've put in to it.

this is absolutely the case and why i think of v2 as integral to michael regaining his sense of mercy after all the years he's spent enveloped in god's wrath. v2 is in a very unique position with mike, understanding him in ways many others can't while also having no fear of retribution from him nor being subject to his leadership. it has his respect, it has a connection with him, but it has no problem speaking its mind to him as well. mostly they butt heads over the exact subjects michael expects and so it's not deeply thought-provoking - of course v2 isn't devout, and he doesn't believe it needs to be concerned with what he does as an angel (they'll still bicker about it, but it's nothing so serious) it's very different, though, when the matter of justice, of michael's sense of right and wrong, is put into question by v2, when it raises up arms against him in the protection of husks.

for michael, the matter should be simple when it comes to the damned - they have already been judged and so, as the warden of hell, his justification is implicit. no matter the punishment he deals, no matter the ruling he makes, they are at his discretion and it cannot be flawed for an angel that has so long served in this role, who was made for it. michael is so sure of his given righteousness that v2's defiance of him in that moment, a moment so banal for him as he whips his chains to bind out of place husks, that he thinks it must be mistaken (or he of its intent). the husks are small, filths or strays or schisms, terrified by the angel and the machine just the same, but when michael moves again v2 levels a gun at him demanding he leave these people alone. people? they are sinners, they are the damned, condemned forever by god's law to be inhuman husks. v2 sees it then, that these souls no longer have value in michael's eyes and so can no longer be treated by all the hypothetical mercy he had spoken of. it recoils slightly, trying to find a bit of reason in him but getting regurgitated, dogmatic talking points that barely sound like the michael it knows. even when he argued with it about god and about the laws, it felt passion from him, it felt his personal joy in being a part of it. this feels unthinking, unmoving, at best. hateful. so hateful, he thinks his stance is given and there is no need to defend it...so he has no personal defenses for it.

it creates a major split in the two, the first real damaging blow their established relationship sustains - v2 is adamant and so is michael, both growing furious with the other (likely while the husks escape back to minos's city and never take a walk outside AGAIN!!!) this is not what v2 expected of michael and michael is shocked that his ethical standing is challenged. he does all the rationalizing he can, v2 is a machine, v2 was made by human hands, v2 is wrong because it doesn't understand god, it doesn't understand true law, it knows imperfect, unfair human law. yet...there is doubt in that rationale. michael respects v2's opinions, he has listened to it talk about the achievement of peace and how it was taught so much to judge in fairness. he knows how deeply complex its mind is, not so trapped by bias and emotion the way humans can be though it was designed for them - in fact, v2 could be quite harsh and was made to enforce peace, not just maintain it. he has continually pushed aside gabriel's protest against his conduct because he is fallen, hell-warped...but now v2 is saying the same. michael stays away for some time, cloistered up in heaven and contemplative (for once).

when he returns, it is in that state of doubt, wretched as it is for an angel. and he speaks to v2, plainly, about what his justice is, with v2 quickly seeing how deeply michael has been affected by god's own displeasure. this is not an overnight process. michael, with v2, slowly opens up more and more about his hatred, his vitriolic anger, his utter, unapologetic disgust for the husks of hell, and how he is right for it. it's not simple for v2 to dissect, it gets them into further arguments and shouting matches, but it refuses to give up on this for how much it sees it festering inside of him. michael has mercy and michael has reasoning, and v2 isn't going to allow him to continue his cruelty unabated any longer as it destroys him far more than any rot ever could. in a way, it is achieving more peace than it ever has and that lights a fire in it - for hell's peace, for michael's peace. it's going to use everything it's got, and it's going to be sure mike can no longer abuse the souls here as he sees fit. and the more v2 stands in his way, the more it challenges him over and over, the more it picks at the threads of his hatred to begin unraveling it. it will pull it right down to its evil root, when god told michael to punish lucifer is to show him mercy, when the fallout afterward demanded no love, no matter how little, for the damned could be shown lest an angel go the same way.

#v2 basically gets to learn about everything mike's never even admitted to himself #but v2 also understands what it's like to be programmed. to be a tool at someone else's disposal #and when mike begins to express his regret it knows it can keep going with him #it's got a traumatized angel!!! it shoulda known!!! #cake answers #michael #v2 #rise and fall au #and thank you omggg honestly i never expected the attention it did get!! #im so happy i can share my little ocs and my thoughts...it really does mean a lot ;o; #it's become such a comfort to me and im so glad people want to share it with me