#using my venom prophetic energy

[ashidaii]

putting that energy out now

#using my venom prophetic energy #venom #venom movie #venom 3 #venom 2

[cybrsan]

Treasure — J.WY [Pt. 1]

STORY SUMMARY: Wooyoung is moon-blessed, a waterbender born under the Siren Moon that rises once every 88 years. His blessing is believed to be his unique and powerful healing abilities that he has coined “Wavesong.” However, his true gift is that of his prophetic dreams, glimpses of futures yet to unfold—and you just happen to be the subject of his recent visions.

PAIRING: Waterbender Jung Wooyoung x Non-Bender F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, eventual smut ; ATLA au, enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNINGS: Minor POV switches

A/N: This story has been a long time coming. It is the second addition to my "Ode To ATEEZ" series and the first to my "Together in Harmony" series. I decided to split it into chapters because I believe it will flow better that way. I hope you enjoy!

LINKS: Ode To ATEEZ Masterlist | Together in Harmony Masterlist | Cross-posted on AO3

Masterlist | Next ↠

Crossing the Desert of Eden is not for the faint of heart. It is one of the world’s greatest paradoxes, a place where nature's most wonderful and most dangerous creatures coexist in a delicate balance. Even the sand itself is an example of this—crystalline and beautiful, ever sparkling under the light of the sun, yet each granule is as jagged as splinters of glass. Without proper foot bindings, your journey cannot even begin.

Amidst the harsh landscape, pockets of life burst forth in brilliant defiance. Rare desert blooms dot the barren terrain with bursts of color. Some hold the power to heal, their petals emitting a fragrance that soothes both body and soul. Others are laced with deadly venom, capable of stopping a heart with but a single touch.

Sand serpents slither through the dunes, their scales nearly translucent, giving them the ability to blend in seamlessly with the landscape. One bite is all it takes for total paralysis to overtake you, rendering you incapacitated for mere minutes to hours at a time. Celestial birds soar overhead, searching for prey, their wings casting shadows on the ground below.

And even if you’re able to avoid those threats, blinding winds carry grains of sand like lashes, stinging skin, obliterating landmarks, and disorienting even the most skilled navigators. The desert swallows the unwary, erasing their footprints from existence.

It is in this very place that Wooyoung finds himself, accompanied by seven of his fellow benders. In normal circumstances, he would avoid a place like this at all costs, his sense of self-preservation persevering over the curiosity of what secrets the desert holds. But things haven’t been normal for a long, long time. 

He feels like he’s been walking for days, his legs heavy and leaden. Despite his protective robes, the wind and sand have whipped at his skin, leaving it battered and raw. Just one look at the faces of his companions is enough to prove he isn’t the only one feeling this way. The only one who seems miraculously energized is their de-facto leader, Hongjoong. He moves forward with ferocity, a tinge of madness in his eyes.

To his left, Yeosang stumbles, nearly falling onto the sand below. Wooyoung reaches out for him, a second too slow, but luckily San reacts quicker, catching him by the arm. The exhaustion has begun to take its toll. Everyone comes to a stop, nervous energy flowing between them. Everyone except Hongjoong, that is. Seonghwa, the eldest of the group and the one with the most power after their leader, places a hand on his shoulder.

“We need to rest, Joong. Look at the kids—they’re exhausted. Yeosang almost collapsed.”

‘The kids.’ Wooyoung frowns, the endearment not sparking the same joy that it used to. Seonghwa and Hongjoong may only be a year older than the rest of them—two in Jongho’s case—but they’ve always referred to them that way. Wooyoung used to find it cute, often teasing them about how they acted like an old married couple. He supposes that the recent distaste for the nickname comes from the fact that Hongjoong hasn’t been the same ever since he told him about his dream.

It takes a moment for Hongjoong to comprehend what Seonghwa said, thoughts still elsewhere. Yet once his eyes find Yeosang, he immediately acquiesces, apologizing for not stopping sooner. His entire demeanor seems to soften, making him seem more like himself. Wooyoung already feels like he can breathe better because of it. 

“Hopefully we aren’t too far from a Dweller community,” Hongjoong says, taking out his compass. “Let’s go.”

The Dune Dwellers are natives of Eden, having found ways to thrive in even the most unfavorable conditions. They aren’t particularly fond of outsiders, regarding any so-called adventurers as naive and stupid more than anything else. They often find the remains of the less fortunate, bodies lost to the sand. Dwellers are some of the only people who know how to navigate the desert and survive, but even they won’t wander into it aimlessly, searching for a treasure that may or may not exist.

Luckily, it isn’t long until they find one of their communities with Hongjoong’s guidance. Tracking their location becomes easier when you familiarize yourself with the signs the locals leave for one another, like a carving in a rock or some shimmering paint on a cactus. Things that are easy to miss when you don’t know what you’re looking for. 

The town is small, cut through the middle by a bustling market area teeming with vendors trying to pawn off their goods. Wooyoung immediately feels some of his tension fade away, the lively environment making him feel more at home. You wouldn’t expect any place in such a barren landscape to be so full of life, but the Dwellers have a thriving community of their own despite their living conditions.

The sounds of haggling and bartering are music to his ears, and he quickly finds himself imbued with newfound energy, eager to start talking to people and fishing for information. Maybe he’ll be able to find some clues as to Pandora’s location, and Hongjoong can finally be appeased. He makes a quick plan with the others to meet at the town’s small inn at sunset before wandering off on his own. 

The scent of spices, freshly baked bread, and cooking meat mingle in the air as he walks, making his mouth water. He stops at a stall selling juice made from prickly pears, kept cool by the waterbender who continuously refreezes the ice it sits upon. In exchange for a few copper coins, he buys a glass and greedily gulps it down.

He shivers, the cold drink a shock to his system in the hot, dry climate. It is both tangy and sweet and he hums, pleased, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and returns the glass to the merchant. Just as he goes to pull his hand back, the man grabs his wrist. Wooyoung's heart jumps in his chest and, though he tries to keep his composure, he is sure the shock shows on his face. Dwellers may not greet outsiders with open arms, but they’ve never shown any outward acts of aggression toward them before.  

“What are you doing here, nakuto? You’re a long way from the Water Tribe.”

Wooyoung gently removes his arm from the man’s grasp, though he is no longer fearful. The term nakuto, a respectable term for ‘young one,’ brings back memories of his home and instantly puts him at ease. “How did you know I was a waterbender?” 

“I don’t see many of my own kind out here; most are exiles from the Fire Nation or native sandbenders. Your necklace gives you away.”

Instinctively, Wooyoung reaches up, fingers caressing the delicate shells around his neck. He supposes it is reminiscent of the Water Tribe, but he’s worn it for years and barely remembers that it’s there. It was a gift from his brother, a good luck charm given to him when he left for the Fire Nation seven years ago. 

The man continues, “Did something happen to your Tribe, boy? It’s not safe out here.”

“No, it’s not like that. I’m here with a group of other benders—we’re looking for the eternal library, Pandora.”

“Pandora,” the man scoffs. “A myth. You should turn back while you still can.”

“I’m afraid turning back isn’t an option. Come on, pakana. Surely you must know something.” 

The man harrumphs, though Wooyoung can tell the use of the honorific pleases him by the slight smile that tugs at his lips. “You can call me Marok.”

“I’m Wooyoung.”

“Well, Wooyoung, there really isn’t that much information out there about Pandora; I probably don’t know much more than you do.” Marok creates a small stream of water from the melting ice, absent-mindedly spinning it around his fingers as he talks. “I’ll tell you what—go talk to ol’ Nadira. She’s a sandbender, and been here almost all her life. If anyone were to know something, it’d be her. Go west of town and look for a purple tent with yellow flags.”

“Thank you, Marok—I appreciate your help. Yui remoi.”

“Bayui jilok.”

Wooyoung nods, acknowledging Marok’s blessing, and starts to head west. The sun has begun to set, and he suspects he has less than an hour before he has to meet the others at the inn. Hopefully, whoever Nadira is, she’ll be cooperative. With the town being as small as it is, it doesn’t take him long to reach the outskirts, and the bright purple tent is easy to spot, a beacon of color amongst the sand. Just as he reaches the entrance, a girl pushes the flap aside, nearly bumping into him as she exits in a hurry. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, barely acknowledging him as she rushes back to town. 

The hair on the back of Wooyoung’s neck stands up. He doesn’t get a good look at her face, but her voice and white robes… He stops himself, shaking away the uncomfortable feeling of familiarity. Her eerie similarity to the girl he’s been seeing in his dreams for the past few nights is of little importance. He’s not trusting his visions ever again and will do whatever he can to avoid those uncertain futures. He quickly enters the tent, ready to get some answers so that he and the others can leave this town and the girl behind come morning.

You rush past the boy entering the tent, barely sparing him a glance as you hurry back toward town. Your conversation with Nadira was unsatisfactory, to say the least. She couldn’t tell you much more than you already knew, which is that Pandora is near impossible to find and even harder to get into, especially as a non-bender. It’s rumored to be buried far under the sand, sealed shut by an elemental lock. However, she was surprised by the map you carried with you, saying she hadn’t ever known there to be someone who successfully cataloged all of Eden. She couldn’t confirm whether or not the entirety of it was correct, though she did verify that certain locations lined up with her own knowledge of the desert.

You relax your steps, an exasperated laugh slipping from your lips as you realize you were practically stomping out of frustration. You take a moment to center yourself; as tempting as it may be to sell the map to the nearest street vendor, you’ve traveled too long and too far to give up now. Freedom is nearly in your grasp—you can feel it. You will claw your way to it if you must.      

Double-checking that the map is secure inside your sling bag, you tighten the strap around your torso and head through the doors of the inn. The atmosphere is much livelier now that it’s late afternoon, with talking and laughter nearly drowning out the small band playing in the corner. The bar area seems to be where most people are congregating, chugging down mead and ale. The one serving maid is busy juggling orders from all directions, delivering filled mugs to rowdy drinkers who seem to enjoy cheering each other on for every sip taken. 

As you weave through the crowded tables in search of a seat, you can’t help but notice a group of travelers that stand out from the crowd. You could sense their disharmony from a mile away—two members seem to be locked in a heated argument, heads close together as they speak in hushed voices. A few of the others seem to be playing a drinking game that involves making silly gestures and mimicking one another while one boy gazes off into the distance, lost in thought. Your interest peaked, you take a seat at the bar, right next to a man who has several empty tankards in front of him. He doesn’t seem too inebriated, but surely he’s drunk enough that his lips will be loose. 

You place a few coins on the counter, ordering two drinks. You slide one to the man to capture his attention and nod in the group's direction, asking, “So, what do you know about the new guys in town?” 

The man eyes you, scrutinizing your appearance. He must see something that he likes because he decides to indulge you, taking the ale in hand and relaxing further into his seat. “Heard from the barkeep that they’re some adventurers tryna find the library of Pandora.” He huffs and takes a long drink before adding, “A buncha fools.” 

You bristle, wanting to defend them as their goal seems to be the same as yours, but you stop yourself, not wanting to discourage the man from sharing more information. “I see. Are they benders?” 

He nods. “Yeah, far as I know. One of ‘em is apparently tryna get some information outta Nadira.” 

You think back to the boy you saw entering the tent and curse yourself for not paying more attention. You could have talked to him, asked him why he was seeing Nadira, and proposed some sort of alliance. Winning one man over would be easier than winning over seven all at once. But alas, that seems to be your only option. Taking one last swig of your ale, you hop off the bar stool and give the man a two-finger salute.

“Thanks for your time—enjoy the rest of your night.” 

He raises his mug and bids you farewell as you turn around, steeling your nerves as you march right up to the group of benders. One of the quarreling men who dons a head of striking red hair notices you first, his eyes instantly narrowing upon your approach. He slides closer to the others, almost protective in his movements, seemingly forgetting his previous argument. 

“Can I help you?” 

His voice is steady, laced with none of the heat you had expected. Instead, his words are cold, punctuated in a way that cuts you like a knife. However, you refuse to let him intimidate you.

“Yes, actually. I heard you were looking for Pandora.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Why is that of any interest to you?”

“I’m looking for it too.”

“And?”

You grit your teeth, his standoffish attitude grating on your nerves. The man he was fighting with places a hand on his arm and steps slightly in front of him, greeting you with a smile. You can immediately feel the difference in his aura, the gentleness radiating off of him. He is the water to the red-headed man’s fire. Perhaps literally.

“Sorry, Hongjoong is just a bit… on edge lately. I’m Seonghwa.” 

He takes a moment to introduce each of the others before asking for your name in return. You’re surprised to find that they’re a pretty well-balanced group, with at least one bender for each element. That will definitely come in handy when it comes to the elemental lock. You almost can’t believe your luck; after all this time, maybe things are finally turning around in your favor.

Yunho, an airbender who was a part of the group playing the drinking game earlier, chimes in. “So, you’re looking for Pandora too?” 

You nod. “That’s right. I think we can help each other.” You reach into your bag and wrap your fingers around the map. “You see, I—”

“Wooyoung!” 

You’re interrupted by San, a dimpled firebender, who gets up to excitedly greet the missing member of their party; Wooyoung must be the boy you bumped into earlier. Now that you have a moment to actually look at him, you suppose that he’s quite beautiful, with a sharp nose and full lips. His hair is like nothing you have ever seen before—silver on top with blue ends, comparable only to how it looks when the light of the moon meets the sea. 

Your lips barely part to greet him when he turns to you, eyes ablaze with hatred. “What is she doing here?”

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @nebulousbookshelf @ad0rechuu @seonghwaddict @sanniesbunnie @wooya1224 @tournesol155 @ja3hwa @pocketjoong-reads @lovandr

#wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #wooyoung fic #ateez fic #jung wooyoung fic #kpop writers #kpop writing #my fic

[bunn-iiii]

some killjoy hcs for my like... versions of them? or maybe AU of them? I'm not sure-

FABULOUS FOUR:

Jet Star: she/her, he/him, xae/xaer. Was born inside the city but he and his mom fled to the Zones when he was really little (like 3 or 4). She is definitely a boygirl, girlboy, girlfriendboyfriend, and that boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend that the Killers were talking about. Absolutely has both a mom voice and a dad voice xae can do. Eye patch is star shaped for aesthetic reasons. Only writes letters in glitter gel pens. Father figure goth girl (no you don't get any context). Tired a lot and probably has a sleep disorder but it's not confirmed since she lives out in the Zones. Usually seems stoic or angry to others but the 'joys that know xaer know that's just xaer resting bitch face, though xae can be quite mean at times if need be. Has the most medical experience but can't really help much outside of stitching wounds up, disinfecting, and bandaging. Often looks very disheveled for no particular reason. 19 years old.

Party Poison: they/them ... just a bit of a enbywhore, just a little bit. Hides their feelings a lot since they view themself as the leader, "makes up for it" by being overdramatic to annoy people. Sassy. Has nightmares a lot due to the trauma of making it into the Zones in their early teen years. If you ask them to turn down the music and don't give an actual reason as to why they should (like overstimulated or have a headache) then they'll just respond with "LINE?? SORRY I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER HOW SHINEY THIS MUSIC IS!". Found family sucker, made their own out of the Fab 4 (and also sort of the 109 radio crew). Unlabeled. Has definitely kissed a 'crow just to catch them off guard so they could dust them. Or kissed a crow for fun just because they could. Kobra Kid is their brother. Would be the unreliable narrator. They have dyscalculia, which doesn't come into play very often in the zones but is why Jet is the one who handles all money transactions. Supposedly a prophet? their night terrors turn out to be sort of prophetic. 18 years old.

Fun Ghoul: Uses all the pronouns, every neopronoun, every binary pronoun, doesn't really have a preference. Completely Zone kid, born and raised. Feral little guy. Has a bit of a sweet tooth (a nack for explosives). Running away from the consequences of xer actions. Burnt off their fingerprints on one of their experiments. Really smart but acts dumb because it's fun to trick people (they are a little dumb though). Cartoon character energy. Sniffs people??? Nearly goes cage mad every other week due to understimulation (which is why her finger prints are burnt off). Sharp teeth that they shaved to be that way after they got bored of blowing up things one week. Sometimes Jet will take them driving or racing to keep cake entertained. Possibly bisexual?? Bites people as a love language. Somewhat violent and is prone to throwing bombs to let off steam instead of yelling at people. Gets into fights every so often that Party has to break up. Probably has a fair amount of hearing loss due to being dumb and exploding things without ear protection. Around 17 years old (clouds exact age is unknown since xei never kept track and don't really have paperwork due to being born in the Zones).

Kobra Kid: he/him, they/them, ve/ven/vens/venom. Silent violence type. Either non verbal half the time or just doesn't want to talk. Left blood in your Valentino white bag. Has memory problems which is why the Fab 4 often take a lot of photos so ve can remember. Just a little bit crazy, but more so protective. AUTISM. Special interest is snakes currently since he found a book on them. Got the vodka taken away from them after they tried to chug it on a dare from Ghoul. Mood swings, often rages out and joins Ghoul in blowing things up with bombs. Has a hard time crying though, it's really tough to get them to cry which they both love and hate. Cat energy. Owns a katakana cause why not and also ven is super cool so of course. Has Pathological Demand Avoidance (or what some people with it call Pervasive Drive for Autonomy which honestly I like better) and isn't aware of it, Party has found quite a few work arounds from trial and error from living with him as his primary caretaker for a while. 16 years old.

109 RADIO CREW:

Dr Death Defying: he/him, but has grown to not care as much what is used for him. Keeps insisting that he's fucked up from the war and that he's dangerous but really he's like a dad for everyone. Wears silly patterned socks a lot. PINK GUN! Has lived through a lot including multiple assassination attempts. Pan, but is extremely defensive??? Pro-respect women fr "It's okay to murder but it's not okay to disrespect women.". Raised Show Pony and Cherri Cola for the most part, being the two's biological uncle. Way too avid music listener, when he's not running the radio station he's finding new music (and sending Show out to get said music). Hasn't actually lived through a lot, he's died multiple times but he's friends with the Witch, her being an old friend he knew before she became the Witch, so he ends up getting revived. Iron deficiency, which eating the food that they can get out in Zones has not helped in any way, is the main reason he uses a wheelchair (along with joint pain and such). He has a couple different wheelchairs, including one that is all terrain which he can pop a wheelie on but he refuses to go out as much so it doesn't get much use. Taught the 109 radio crew and the Fab 4 sign language and holds classes for 'joys wanting to learn it. Around 36-38.

Show Pony: they/them primarily but uses a few neopronouns (which I've yet to decide on). Weirdly obsessed with water for some reason, any safe (or even not safe) body of water they've probably jumped in. Definitely has danced in the rain like a crazy person. Memory problems and often forgets things they've said more than things they've done. When they were younger they were a fairly shy kid, after a while they had a sort of personality change. Paints their nails a lot, sometimes paints others as well. Feminine in the way a gay guy is feminine but also they're enby. Pushes their heart shaped sunglasses down their nose so they can look over them like an annoyed librarian. Has probably been deficient in a lot of things before and sometimes just lays on the ground when they feel sick because it's the only thing that seems to help. "The power of friends and GUNS!". Likes to tease people, especially cis guys, because they find it funny when they get angry and frustrated. Does the exact same thing to 'crows because seeing a crow lose control and try to kill them while they do barely anything to dust them is entertaining. Also a bit of an enbywhore like Party. They got given their first pair of roller skates by Dr D when they were 10 and now barely take them off. When they aren't wearing their skates they sometimes trip over their own feet because they still have the motor memory of skating. 19 years old.

Cherri Cola: he/him, they/them. They pirated their gender from BL/ind, they call themself illegally male. Mixed emotions kinda of person, looks angry when they're not. Definitely get angry while also appreciative, tough love-ish. Also prone to just… crying for no reason? can also fake cry really well which he uses to confuse 'crows. Pathetic little dude, coughing blood and then asking if he looks good. Kind of a bitch but that's okay. Punched a wall once because he was "full of love". Eating ibuprofen like it's a snack (much to the dismay and concern of Show and Doc who often try to hide ibuprofen bottles so they won't take them as often). Gets mad and slams his fists against a table or punches a wall and doesn't think about how much it would hurt until after he's done it. 17 years old.

#also yes some of these are collected from other people- #there's a lot more for the characters these are just some random things #i also tried not to describe physical stuff just yet because i haven't decided on a lot for their designs #besides Jet's eyepatch being a star because yes #ttlotfk #danger days #fabulous four #party poison #jet star #fun ghoul #kobra kid #dr death defying #show pony #cherri cola #i really need to write more for cherri cause they're the most work in progress out of all of them

[direwombat]

@harmonyowl and @schoute, (and everyone else!) please meet my new seed sibling oc, jonah

→ the babiest seed (but he and john are very close in age, only a year or two apart).

→ has little-to-no memory of his brothers/life pre-foster care, save for the memory of how he got a scar across his eyebrow when he was but a wee bab

→ the memory is vague and blurry, but he remembers an angry man (daddy seed), being in pain and crying, and an older boy (either joseph or jacob) ferrying him away to the bathroom to take care of the injury. 

→ was ultimately adopted into a loving family in the small town of kingston, ga.

→ the church his parents attended was a serpent handling church that drank (mildly) poison laced wine for communion

→ his parents were delighted when he took an interest in snake handling and encouraged him to study under the pastor, where he learns he has a particular talent for handling the creatures.

→ at age sixteen the pastor he studied under was found dead surrounded by his snakes. It was ruled an accident, but in actuality, jonah, who was being abused by the pastor, used the snakes to kill the man.

→ he didn’t go to college (though he did think about seminary school), and instead became a traveling preacher, conman, and thief, using milked snakes

→ joe finds him preaching out of a tent in rural georgia. he approaches jonah after a sermon and the two have a lengthy discussion about god and religion, but jonah kind of brushes joe off when he claims to be his brother.  “we’re all brothers in christ,” jonah says, and he certainly doesn’t believe joe about the voice.

→ anyway, cut to a few weeks later and jonah is giving a sermon only the snake he usually uses escaped its basket and he has to use one of the unmilked ones. he’s bitten. he feels the venom pump into his veins and it fucking hurts and he falls to the ground in front of his congregation, but in true snake-handler fashion, he refuses any kind of medical attention. he writhes on the ground, frothing at the mouth, speaking in tongues before he seizes one last time and the light seems to leave his eyes.

→ and then a few moments later he bolts back up, coughing up up foamy blood and joseph is right there, propping him up and claiming that what just happened was a miracle, the will of god! but in the quiet after the congregation leaves, joseph tells jonah that he’s been reborn. the conman, liar, and thief he used to be is dead. he was a false prophet before, but now the signs following him and his snake handling are true. and jonah, without any better explanation for what happened, buys into it. 

→ after this incident, jonah gives joseph’s words a bit more consideration, and after doing some digging through government records, it’s confirmed they are family, and jonah joins up with joseph and john as they search for jacob.

→ he gives off a lot of cool youth pastor energy that helped eden’s gate fly under the radar for a while, making it seem more family friendly and he ran a lot of sunday school/bible study aimed towards kids for the cult. he generally helped joe appeal to a younger demographic. the pied piper of the cult in a way

→ arguably the most well adjusted of his brothers.

→ only he’s super not, he’s just as unhinged and prone to violence as the rest of them. he just hides it better. a snake in the grass if you will…

→ more like faith in that he doesn’t really use firearms (although jacob definitely taught him how to use one), but he does like to use various poisons and venoms

→ he’s closest with joseph and faith. He’s a little intimidated by jacob but he knows that he’d do anything for him. he and john butt heads a lot but they also have that “only i can insult my brother” kind of dynamic.

→ his main sin is pride, more specifically vainglory/vanity, but he’s also guilty of greed. both these sins are tattooed onto his torso by john

→ i’m inventing a region [name tbd] in hope county that he’s the herald of, either to the east or south of the canon map where there’s a lot of flat land, is kind of scrubby, and filled with horses and snakes.

→ his herald title is “the messenger” but a lot of the resistance refer to him as a snake charmer and snake-oil salesman. 

→ his bunker is called “the burrow” and it’s filled with so many snakes.

→ he was heavily inspired by/based off billy st. cyr, a minor character from season 4 of justified, played by joe mazzello (who is also jonah’s face claim)

#oc: jonah seed #far cry 5 oc #far cry 5 ocs #anyway he's single if any mutuals (or rather any mutuals' ocs) are interested #haha i'm just kidding....unless 👉👈👀 #my ocs

[athenril-of-kirkwall]

okay lets do this *cracks fingers* Solavellan: oral sex, where they can be overheard and with (optionally) sex pollen

Merry Xmas! Have some filthy, filthy, filth.

Solavellan, “Priapic Venom” (AO3) [Explicit]

“Excellent,” Solas remarked as he observed the elven artifact pulse with the same green energy which emanated from Rivka’s palm. “That should strengthen the Veil here for the time being.”

Clapping imaginary dust from her hands, Rivka said, “I think that’s well enough for one day. I don’t know about you, Solas, but I’ve honestly had it with this wet, spider-infested cave.”

“I concur entirely,” he said, turning away from the waterfall and heading towards the cave’s mouth. “It’ll be pleasant to return to camp and warm up a little by the fires—urk!!

That interruption of the usually unflappable Solas’ exposition had been caused by a vicious bite by one of those spiders which Rivka had been complaining about just now. He and Rivka sprung into action, making short work of the pest and leading it to explode in a mass of viscera and green blood some few moments later.

Wiping some off the gore off her armour, Rivka commented, “Speak of the Dread Wolf and he turns up. Now I’m going to have to wash spider guts off my arm…”

Her voice trailed off as she turned around to see Solas lying on the ground, weakly propping his back up against one of the columns of flowstone in the middle of the cave. He looked even paler than usual, and looked as limp as a puppet with its strings strewn on a floor…with one notable exception, of which Rivka was actively avoiding catching an eyeful as she looked up at him concernedly.

“Vhenan,” he croaked, “I can’t feel my arms.”

“I think I know where all the blood went to,” Rivka said, letting herself finally observe the considerable bulge in his trousers.

“Dear me,” Solas muttered, finally noticing his predicament.

Rivka scrambled to fish an elfroot potion from her belt, uncorking it and dribbling its contents into Solas’ mouth, before stripping her gloves off, followed by the outer layers of her armour.

“What are you—?”, he asked, growing more concerned with every article of clothing she was removing.

“You must have encountered this in one of the more lurid dreams you experienced whilst exploring the Fade,” she explained. “It certainly was mandatory education in my clan, although to be frank…I never expected to ever use this knowledge in my lifetime.”

“Of course I recognise a paralytic poison, vhenan, but what do you mean?”

“This is no ordinary paralytic agent, Solas,” Rivka explained, now completely bare above her beltline except for her undershirt. “You’ve just been bitten with priapic venom.”

Solas’ eyes widened as he spluttered, “Priapic…venom…?”

Rivka nodded gravely. “Creators know what sick purpose the Forgotten Ones had in mind when they imbued animals with the stuff—probably Anaris’ doing, the old pervert—and in other forms it’s a mild aphrodisiac, but right now you’ve been poisoned, and rather sadistically at that.”

“Are you saying that this priapic venom is causing not just my paralysis but…”

“Quite so,” Rivka said. “Who knows how many hunters have met a disastrous and humiliating end thanks to this stuff, unable to relieve themselves to the last.”

“That brings me back to my original question,” Solas said, following Rivka’s gaze to his own belt. “What are you planning to do, vhenan?”

Raising an eyebrow as she reached for another vial, Rivka said, “It’s quite simple. I’m going to relieve you.”

Quivering in outrage as much as his deadened muscles could manage, he protested, “I absolutely refuse! I shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…”

“Solas,” Rivka said sternly. “If this isn’t taken care of, your penis may well be defective for the rest of your life.”

“Nevertheless, I won’t let you give yourself to me, not in these circumstances of all things.”

Guiding Solas to her trousers, which were still belted and buttoned up, she said, “I think you need to relax a little, Solas. I wasn’t about to have a tryst with you in this dank, wet, cave.”

“Then what…?”, Solas asked blearily.

Looking up at him as she squatted back in front of him, Rivka said, “I’m simply going to perform the remedy, unless of course you’d prefer me to summon the nurse from the campsite…?”

Turning the options over in his head and figuring the latter was more mortifying than the former, Solas finally conceded, “Very well, do as you wish.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” Rivka said, rolling her eyes.

Pulling his trousers and smalls down, revealing a truly torturous erection, and pouring a vial of Prophet’s Laurel oil over her hands, spreading the lotion on her palms once it was exposed to the chill air. Finally taking a good look at it, Rivka blinked as she appreciated its size. It was…considerably respectable, easily the length of her hand from palm base to fingertip, and wide enough to look proportionate and not, uh, skinny.

Not that she’d seen all that many penises in her life, but she knew enough to recognise one that would cause considerable envy. Maybe she should be spending less time staring at it and, well, doing the necessary treatment.

Breathing on her palms to make sure she wasn’t about to chill Solas with her touch, Rivka got to work, wrapping it with her right hand and slowly pumping it. Blood started rising in Solas’ pale cheeks, which at least was some kind of indication that she was doing it right. Drawing upon her limited experience, she tried a kind of rotating motion at its base with her left hand, then deciding that it wasn’t really working, she settled on massaging his balls.

Hearing a deep groan rise from Solas’ breast, she looked up at him teasingly, asking, “Enjoying ourselves, are we?”

-

Continued on AO3, because this is 2000+ words about Rivka jerking Solas off and blowing him too. See you there!

@dadrunkwriting

#rivka lavellan #solas #solavellan #f!lavellan/Solas #smut #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #aether effect #prompt fic #ao3 #fanfic #athenril-of-kirkwall #dadrunkwriting #da drunk writing circle

[theterrornoise]

Music Reccs. Pt2.

“The Trilogy of the most underrated Swedish band: Breach what is your hardcore?

So to explain Breach we have to take a step back and start talking about Swedish Hardcore, cause most of you are awere of Swedish Crust or D beat, Mob 47,Anti-Cimex,Totalitar,Wolfbrigade\Wolfpack,Disfear,Skitsytem and Nasum (even if they are more on the Grind side of the thing). But in the 90′s something new was rising influenced by the new sound of Victory records and more Metal giutars, especially in Umea and Lulea (for example Refused,Fireside and Raised Fist) Breach were always the more aggressive and darkest sounding band, clear Crust inspiration and New York Hardcore at first, but with some edge to experimental vibe and in their first two ablum “Outlines” (E.P. 1994) Friction (1995) and .But in 1997 Swedish Hardcore started to change (Refused were almost collapsing under the pressure of their ambitious masterpiece Shape Of Punk To Come,Fireside started flirting with a more melodic direction and Raised Fist were the next big thing and Swedish skate\pop punk was growing in populariy with acts such Millencolin,Not Fun At All and Satanic Surfers) in this landscape Breach came out with a record that still to this day is impossible to describe “It’s Me God” an album that starts with what will set the tone for the rest of the record ground breaking guitar, sonical landscape where you wait for the next move, a voice that that strikes trough the layer of noise, an always persistent almos tribal drum. This album is not an expirience is a call to army there’s not a single secod where you know what to expect and what to ask for, song like Deadheads or Clot sounds so desperate and yet so energetic and you realize that you still have almost 30 minute of this record in front of you. The flow of this album is incredible we start seeing their first shift in a more Post-Hardcore\Post-Metal inspiration, there’s a clear Neurosis inspiration with a bit of early american metalcore some Convorge and some Unsane blend in, the desperate sound of Breach hits you with those absurde wall of sound that and those unstoppable rythmic section backed up by abrasive guitar, Presume The Forgotten take you of the road just when you start to understand how those guys think electronic noises and a stady guitar start the song, then the tribal drum and distorted guitar its you in a lo-fi mix, than the audio goes back up and it its you with this confused almost out of tempo rythm and almost thrash metal guitars, before fading into a into a melodic session and hit you up again and then,faiding again into glooming electronic noises, At this point you realize Breach don’t work only for their sound and energy but for how much they can play around with it and still leave you hooked up with fast tempo changes, dark melodies and such an imposing bass. “It’s Me God”  is the showcase of what Breach were able of doing ,in 1999 they relesed “Venom” which not only expand on the formula that breach created but challeged themselves to do more , expecially with some more decise doom oriented track like “Heroine” which take is time to grow and explode, But also fast and more frenetic track like “Murder” and “Common Day”, With song like “Diablo” and “Black Sabbath” we start seeing some attempt at instrumental tracks , the band was getting more caotich too, expecially on the bass on track like “Game of Vain” sound like “Plesuredome” and “Hell is my witness” is the final salute to the old-Breach and I say that because “Penetration” (the last track) is an admonition to the future of Breach an almost post-rock\post metal tracks. Venom was the first record to cough various attention from the critcs outside that small undergound community good reviews form Kerrang!,touring with Entombed and Neourosis and they also added another drummer for what will be their last and kinda prophetic title “Kollapse” (2002) the album starts with this kinda positive post-rock melody that kinda remainds of band like Isis the track is “Big Strong Boss” and it goes into this big and energic crescendo sorrounded with strange synth sounds in the background and the voice explode in the second track “Old Ass Player” fully embracing a metalcore attitude and a the voice distort itself all-over the track after two instrumental the more atmospheric “Sphincter Ani” and more violent and straight to the point “Alarma” we are hitted by some clean voice out-of-nowhere in “Lost Crew” a very danceble(?) and yet so deep song,before it abruptly slow down before hitting you back up with a wall of heavy metal guitar and guttural voice to remaind you that you should never joke with Breach. Then therese “Teeth Out” a full on kinda-psychedelic 9 minute instrumental masterpiece ,Before getting back in the fight with “Breathing Dust”, Mr.Marshall comes next (my favorite track on this record) delayed and bizzare almos mumbly vocals,a slow and distroted guitar that crash down into the ground followed up by some slow drums slowly growing back out of that ground,then a distroted bass go thru the mix of this record blurying evreything else then the guitars follows next building a wall of dissonant noise until the track collepse on itself leaving just the bass fuzz on the background. after that “Seven” whispered voice,tribal drums in form of bongos and beautiful guitar in clean some keybords a confused warm song in the middle of a destructive storm, “Murder Kings And Killer Queens” is the last glimpse and maybe goodbye of the violence of Breach,the album close with “Kollapse” psychadelic like “Seven” with no voice, full synth are used, that fenomenal bass fuzz comeback, some delayed and distorted voice, an pressing rythm and beautiful what assume I assume is a xylophone close the album.Breach ended there,just to reuinite 5 years later and destroyed their instruments at their final show cause they were done forever,never to be seen again (at least together).

Breach are a band that will never happen again, so much to learn from this guys, their sound their willingness to try everything out for one quest: The search of a sound, cause describing Breach trhu other band is impossible Breach were themeselves, so when you ask yourself what’s your sound ask to yourself what I’ve to do to search for that sound.

Thank you guys, if you see any errors or you have some more detail hmu.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bbhndhq1MKg&t=1258s

#breach #metalcore #Mathcore #noisecore #noise rock #post hardcore #post metal #post rock #music reccs #music recommendation #review

[tarithenurse]

If I succeed - 3

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x fem!Reader (eventually/sorta/you’ll see) Content: Jealousy, pining, mentions of sexy times, stubborn people, feels. A/N: If I ever advertise for a new slowburn: hit me hard with a chair or something, ‘cause I’m testing my own patience despite knowing what’s going to happen. Want a tag? Send an ask or reblog! I’d love comments and feedback – even if it’s corrections on language or whatever - I’m not picky as long as I know my work brings joy too.

3 – You won’t change

...  Reader  ...

Even with Geralt of Rivia to explain the severity of the situation, and Jaskier to serve as witness, very few of the villagers are willing to abandon their homes at the potential threat.

“You’re the Witcher,” they object, “the White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken. Can’t you do something?”

Probably better than the man in question, you understand their reasoning: this is their home. The only safe place they have. Furthermore, if it was just a single person leaving (maybe to pursue their fate in the capital) it would not be a problem whereas an entire village on the run would be met with hostility anywhere they were to go. The summer is drawing to an end and with autumn, the cold days will come with rain, sleet, and eventually snow. How would they feed so many? What would happen to them?

“Witcher or not, I’m just one person.”

You know Geralt well enough to see the frustration hidden in the tight draw of the lips. He is not as callous as he pretends, often forfeiting payment by sending a saved person home rather than follow them and claim what was promised. It is only because of Jaskier that they have money to spend on shelter.

Speaking of the bard, you glimpse a shimmer of his blue doublet in a corner where several young women are gathered, undoubtedly to shower him with attention in the hopes of wooing him – a fate he will bravely accept.

“Some of you have horses,” you pipe up, focus once more back on the attending villagers, “ride to Beauclair. Warn them!”

But already, the audience is turning away, tired of the meddling outsiders and a woman’s views on the problem. Most of them have little respect for the Ducal Guard who is supposed to protect the borders and roads, finding that the men sporting the Toussaint colours rarely bother about the well being of the common folk.

“Don’t waste your breath on them, [Y/N].” Geralt’s heavy hand squeezes your shoulder softly, sending shivers racing. “They’ll talk, then they’ll come to offer me money to sort it. They all do.”

He is tired, the venom still potent in his blood though the fever has diminished somewhat. With only a grunt as thanks, he takes the tankard of ale offered by a pretty blonde before reclaiming his seat with a sigh. Though the wench's job is done, she hovers nearby with a hungry look in her eyes that sends your skin crawling and your brain reeling for something to distract the swell of unwelcome emotions.

“What if they do? You’re still just one man...and you’re recovering.”

He has the gall to roll his eyes. “At least I can get proof, seeing the carcass of a monster sends most running.”

“So?” Anger is rising rapidly in your chest even if this is not the time nor the place to let it out. “We’ve seen wyverns before...know they’re th-”

“Who’s talking about the wyverns?” Half the sentence is spoken into the wooden tankard, only loud enough for you to hear. “There’s...something else.”

Oh, the anger is gone immediately all right, replaced by a new, creeping unrest. The people capturing the wyverns...aren’t people?

Looking around the place, you see familiar faces who now are in danger. Friends who have helped you, whose kids you have taught or family members you have tended to during illness or labour. When you and your parents first arrived, it took a while before you were no longer treated as the strange city-girl but once people did accept you...you have never felt alone since. You see the smith and his apprentice by the bar, and over by the window is Audette (seamstress who worked with your mother before eventually taking over) with her gossiping friends, two tables are filled with sons and daughters strong enough to work at the biggest vineyard in the valley. You could go on, naming each and every single person. Then again, there’s less than hundred in the village.

There are more than usual at the small inn. Undoubtedly, the rumour of the Witcher being in attendance has spread like wildfire thanks to Jaskier’s strumming on the walk here. Jaskier. He, however, is nowhere to be found. Where he was, some of the hopeful women are sitting with disappointed pouts. He’ll be back for breakfast.

You turn back to continue the conversation only to find the annoying barmaid nearly crawling onto the White Wolf’s lap without any complaints from him. Biting back curses, it is all you manage to hiss at Geralt to deal with the villagers’ threat as he sees fit before you march out.

Pebbles crunch under your boots. A newly waning moon bathes the bumpy road and the path leading off towards your cottage in a blueish glow, the inky shadows beneath any obstacle the better how late the hour is. Gonna go home, clean up, go to sleep. In my OWN bed! Though the air is cool and soothing, it is unable to dull the rage boiling your blood. An inner dialog plays in your head with alternating reasons for and against your reaction: you have no claim; the Witcher can make (or choose) his own bed and lie in it, yes sir; typical men!

On and on, your mind protests, until a dry crack snaps you back to the present. Nothing is in sight, though it is uncannily difficult to ascertain whether something is hiding in the underbrush of the glade to your right. If only you had paused to bring and light the little lantern – a lantern which is standing by the seat Geralt had claimed – then you could have seen more. Even such a little light would be useful for you in other ways, keeping you safer than most would think. All you have is the glow of the moon so you wait and listen. As no other sounds disturb the silence, you deem it wiser to continue home. Hurrying slightly.

Once indoors, a shaky breath wriggles past teeth worrying into the bottom lip. Silly me. It was probably just a critter too focused on you to watch its step.

You sense it rather than hear it, a presence nearing from behind like a thunderstorm crawling over the mountains. There is barely time to reach towards your father’s old walking staff, less so to turn and raise it before your wrists are pinned on either side of your head against the closed door and the Witcher is looming over you with his broad shoulders. At least he does not have to tell you to drop the staff with a clatter (what good would it do, anyway?). He is so close! The formidable chest rising as he attempts to regain his breath. Did he run here? Brows are knitted as those magical eyes sweep over your form once before scrutinizing every detail of your face. I’m pissed at him, yet the reminder does little else than school your features. Within this proximity, it is possible to smell the musk and the bitterness from the venom-laced sweat – the last inkling of honeyed soap would be unnoticeable for anyone but those who knew of it. The heat. By the Prophet! The heat emanating from the man can only be compared to the smith’s furnace...or the sinful need in your core.

“I believe we were talking, [Y/N].”

“Your attention was elsewhere so I decided we were done,” you bite back.

Tearing yourself free (or rather: he lets you free), you slide past him to reclaim your own alcove. Seeing as Jaskier undoubtedly will be gone all night, it makes sense for Geralt to sleep there instead...and if not, then the two guys will have to bunk up.

“[Y/N]...” His voice is softer now.

Yours is not. “What?”

There is no answer, merely a thud and a slight quiver in the floorboards prompting you to whip around. Geralt lies in a heap on the floor. Fuck. Undoubtedly, his rush to reach home before you has pumped the venom through his body at a quicker pace than even he can withstand, pushing his recovery back and draining what little energy he still had left.

You act swiftly, finding the last of the old vials of antidote as well as one of the new ones you have prepared during the day – they aught to settle before administration, but you might not have a choice now. Then (less swiftly), you drag blankets onto the floor near the fireplace and roll the meat mountain onto them before swathing him almost like a child and dragging his shoulders and head onto your lap. Embers are still crackling, casting a red glow onto the chiselled face to soften the edges.

“Come on,” you coo, knowing full well that he cannot hear you, “open your mouth.”

It is relatively simple to gain access to pour the remedy into him. Pushing the jaw up, you pinch his nose shut and pray that his body will react accordingly. Under the black shirt and leather, his chest stutters in protest for a moment longer than you like. Come now. Miraculously, you hear him swallow, clearing the liquid away to free the airways, gasping hungrily but never once regaining consciousness.

He is handsome, the White Wolf, though few see past the fierce facade to discover the gentle strokes in his appearance. As the dim glow flickers and sends the shadows dancing and jumping, you find yourself staring at the femininely long lashes, and the perfect curve of his lips that you once had the joy of claiming.

But the weight of the man is impressive too, quickly robbing any feeling from your legs. Pushing Geralt, with little remorse as to the harshness, you regain freedom and rub your limbs to get life back into them. What to do? Peeling off boots and, well, anything but his breeches is done quickly despite the dead weight because years of dealing with injured and sick people have proved to be a one-person-task most of the time. So far, so good, idle fingers ghost through the hairs on his chest.

And now...though he probably would not care, you do not like the idea of leaving him on the floor and so retort once more to dragging him towards the nearest bed – you own. Once at there, a cold cloth wakes him up enough to get him onto his feet and you are able to pull him up after crawling into the alcove first, reaching over and pulling him by the waist of his breeches.

By the time Geralt passes out again, he is sprawled diagonally across the bed with you pinned under his arm. Trying to move only results in him subconsciously dragging you into a tight embrace with your back against his chest. Fuck!

#If I succeed #geralt of rivia #The Witcher #Geralt x reader #Geralt of Rivia x reader #Geralt x you #geralt of riiva x you #Jaskier #jaskier the bard #The Butcher from Blaviken #Dandelion #The white Wolf #The Witcher Netflix #The Witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #Reader #reader insert #fem!reader #slow burn #pining #jealousy #monsters #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #you #toss a coin to your witcher

[oopcio]

another cute lil oneshot for @sahana-anand bc she’s adorable 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

word count: today’s still not the day lmao

pairing: asra alnazar x wynne toprak (the arcana x oc)

warning: none

the mocking laughter echoed so loudly it felt as if it became tangible at one point, completely surrounding asra and reaching out to grasp his throat tightly. as it turned out, it was not the laughter itself - rather, it was where it was coming from. after the dark cloud of smoke had disappeared, it merely left the outline of a large figure, standing tall and towering over him. it was him. it was the devil.

no matter how much asra struggled, it seemed like he got even more stuck with every movement he made. eventually, he knew better than to keep trying. his eyes hardened and his gaze was cold, never letting his eyes leave the devil’s. “you’re powerless,” he spat.

and the devil chuckled even harder, the deep sound booming through the opaque room surrounding the two of them. the laughter was somehow suffocating. “what a large statement for someone who just watched the life drain from your love’s eyes...” he countered, as asra sneered directly in his face. though, it seemed words had now failed him. as much as he wanted to taunt back, to put him in his place, no amount of noise would escape his throat.

soon enough, the only feeling he had was the drop of something wet on his cheek. was it blood? is this the end? will the devil end his suffering, right here, and right now? no. he was not that kind. asra knew a life without her was no life he wanted to live. but he quickly realized that his eyes were the source of the wet, cold drops that would slide down his cheeks. before he could even realize what was happening, he was crying.

and then it became sobbing. it was those full-body, let sadness wash over and wreck you sobs. sobs so hard that they took all of the air from his lungs, cruelly, and left him gasping, begging, pleading for air to replace the tons and tons of it he lost because of his overwhelming sorrow. watching as the life drained from wynne’s eyes, as her body fell limp... and he was helpless. unable to do anything. and now, she was gone.

the devil simply laughed harder at his misery, letting the laugh boom through what felt like miles and miles of unending black opaqueness. letting the sound mock asra as he stayed pathetically under the beings grasp. as smoke appeared and swirled around his figure, asra shut his eyes tightly, using all of his energy left to ignore the devil. his fear, his misery, all of it - the devil fed on it. it made him stronger. asra knew that if he refused to give him that fear, that sorrow, then he’d be powerless. but it was easier said than done. his efforts were in vain, though - nothing worked.

suddenly, that feeling of incapability had pierced him, right through his chest, forcing his body to lay pathetically still.

he sat straight up in his bed, feeling sweat running all over his body as he panted for breath. it was just a nightmare. thankfully, it was just a nightmare. wynne was laying right beside him in bed and...

he fumbled around, searching for her body but it was all for naught. he panicked, feeling the tears start to brim in his eyes, before junping out of bed and running down the stairs in search of her. when he heard movement and floorboards creak from inside the shop, he sighed in relief and clutched the robe he was wearing. he let his feet take him to the last step and then to the floor, already speaking to her. “oh, good thing you’re here. i got worried. i had a nightm...”

asra! faust said, curling her body around the jars of miscellaneous charms and crystals to approach him. she watched as his shoulders raised once again, the tension in his figure evident. why upset?

he sighed again, feeling as his heart started to race. where else could wynne be, if not anywhere inside the shop? “did you see wynne?” he asked her, worry laced in his tone as he outstretched his arm for faust to slither onto. ocean friend left.

once faust had comfortably made her way around asra’s neck. he slipped on his scarf and trousers, wasting as little time as possible so he could search for wynne. could he have had a prophetic dream? he recalled beating the devil once already, but was this revenge? had he already come back, more angry than ever before? surely it was impossible, right?

faust squeezed him just lightly enough to remind him that she was there with him, and he wasn’t alone. he smiled just the tiniest bit, stroking the end of her tail as more comfort for himself than for her. “will you help me find her?” he whispered with a sadness that was hardly detectable to anyone aside from her. miss ocean friend.

“me too,” he sighed, losing his focus to stand there, in the middle of the street, while sadness overwhelms him once again. not knowing where she might be... that was the real nightmare.

minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days, all spent searching the whole city of vesuvia for wynne. even until the late hours of the night, he was determined to find her, no matter how blurry his vision got from the tears welling up in his eyes. there was only one place left that he had not already checked - the docks.

marching his way there, even faust was worried. asra stroked her tail for both his comfort and hers, chewing his lip as he frantically looked around for her. as first, he saw a shadow sitting on the docks, and he could hardly believe what she was seeing. he rubbed his eyes to clear them of the tears, and blinked once just to make sure, but the shadow remained.

“w-wynne?!” he called, feeling more tears well up in place of the previous ones, but this time, they were from relief. he rushed forward as the figured turned their head, not able to get one sound out before being enveloped in his arms. he wasted no time at all, picking her up and swinging her around.

“put me down!” he finally heard, once the adrenaline had simmered down enough for him to go back to being aware of his surroundings. he put her down on the ground, per her request, and stepped back to give her a bit of space. only then had he realized that the look on her face meant she was upset.

“what do you think you’re doing, coming up and grabbing me out of nowhere with no warning? what’s wrong with you, and why do you look like you walked through seven hells to get here?” each word she spoke had a certain venom about it, every one painful to asra’s heart in its own way.

“i’m sorry, wynne. truly. i was just... i was wondered about you all day. i had a nightmare... the devil was back, and he-he hurt you, and when i woke up, you weren’t there... i-i looked all over vesuvia for you. i’m sorry... i just... my anxiety got the best of me for a moment, i suppose.”

the poor thing looked like a kicked puppy - so much so that wynne promptly softened and felt bad for her outburst. he was so genuine, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears once again. before she knew it, she was the one rushing forward to embrace him.

“i’m sorry,” the mumbled over and over, pressing her face into his shoulder to muffle herself and hide her bashfulness. “i didn’t know. i didn’t mean to worry you... i’ll leave a note next time.”

asra’s hands stuttered before holding her back, and at the moment, wynne didn’t know why. but she knew immediately when he next spoke. “i-... i’d like that,” he whispered, his voice breaking despite the amount of effort he put in, trying to keep it from doing so. wynne embraced him much tighter once she realized, her fist gripping the back of his shirt. even faust slithered between the two of them, to get in on the warmth. missed you too, ocean friend!

wynnie giggled, finally deciding on using one hand to give faust the chin scratches she loved so much. faust leaned into them gratefully and even asra laughed, slowly pulling apart in order to be careful of the snake while he wiped at his eyes. “well, i suppose we should get back now. it’s dark now... haven’t worked the shop at all,” he chuckled out of mild embarrassment. a surge of confidence washed over him when wynne reached out to grab his hand, though.

“vesuvia can survive one day without their favorite magicians, i’m sure. now, lets get back. i bet you’re tired,” she took note of how droopy his eyes got as soon as the word left her mouth, which was just confirmation to her question.

the only response he gave was a faint smile and a soft but loving kiss on her lips, but she still flushed and accepted his hand when he offered it. poor asra could hardly make it to the bed that night... all of the fatigue from the day had finally caught up to him.

- jiah 💖

#the arcana #asra #oneshot #writing #not my oc #jiah writes #sahana-anand

[hijodelagua]

by yemeth

The original term comes from hinduism, and refers to a dormant potential energy that sleeps at the root of our spinal column, the Muladhara chakra. It was probably first mentioned in the Tantrasadbhava-tantra (VIII Century). However, snakes and dragons which allude to this concept aren’t unusual; from Uadyet in Egypt to the Caduceus of Hermes (Greece), or even according to some, the Feather Serpent Quetzalcoátl.

Since this would be a process shared by the whole human race, it makes sense that separate cultures have conceptualized it in similar ways. In this regard, I wholeheartedly recommend Kenneth Grant’s “Cults of the Shadow”.

Hod, Kundalini and ceremonial magick

In the magickal and mystical system of the A.·.A.·., our meeting with the Kundalini deploys in the sphere of Hod, that is to say, grade Practicus 3=8. A prerequisite for this is the full integration of the shadow archetype.

Since the creation of reality flows from Kether to Malkuth, our way back can climb the Tree of Life using two paths. One is the mystical path, the Path of the Arrow, the straight way that will move from Malkuth to Kether visiting Yesod and Tiphareth. The other path is the magician’s convoluted path, which looks like a snake.

When in Malkuth and Yesod, the paths of the magician and the mystic are still the same. But from Yesod, these paths divert. One will be straight, the other one will coil around the Tree. When the magician reaches Hod, he could already be considered as following the Path of the Snake. Hod is the planet Mercury and Hermes, who wields the Caduceus staff, in which two snakes arise entwined around this staff.

Kundalini is conceived as a coiled snake that sleeps at the root of our spinal column. There we find the first chakra, muladhara. Hinduism tells us three channels (nadis) run vertically from the base of the spine to the head, in a way that quite resembles Hermes’ caduceus. The two snakes around the staff are here called Ida (moon, feminine) and Pingala (solar, masculine), whereas the staff itself is called Sushimna. Kundalini rises by balancing Ida and Pingala, the masculine and feminine.

The magician’s work with Hod is awakening the Kundalini. But, why now of all times?

Before reaching Hod, the Initiate must have won the Ordeal of the Siren (or Vampire), that which Joseph Campbell named as “The Woman as a Temptress” in his Hero’s Journey. This made him a Zelator 2=9 in Yesod. To win this ordeal, the Initiate must have given up romantically/sexually a person (or several) which seemed to incarnate his/her anima/animus. This person appeared in the Initiate’s life as a consequence of the libido energy liberated after he successfully dealt with his Chapel Perilous / Vision of the Holy Guardian Angel, after the Initiate obtained access to the world of Yetzirah from Assiah.

What does all that work and the anima/animus have to do with this?

Kundalini is precisely the Initiate’s anima/animus. Using Jungian terms, in path 32 between Malkuth and Yesod, the Neophyte fought his shadow (his personal unconscious). Once shadow has been integrated, it is time for the anima/animus to shine- This is a deeper unconscious archetype, linked to the shadow. It represents repressed personal power. Before the anima/animus has been integrated, we project it on others as a positive trait.

The Initiate can only fruitfully work with Kundalini (which is the same as the anima/animus) once he’s stopped projecting it on his lovers. Having dealt with the Ordeal of the Siren is then necessary before working with Kundalini.

Without the shadow, the anima/animus is free to manifest on reality. But also the Initiate can now differentiate and perceive the archetype he is projecting.

The Practicus 3=8 grade in the A.·.A.·.

In the A.·.A.·. system, the Practicus 3=8 work involves a meditation called S.S.S. from Aleister Crowley’s Liber HHH. This meditation is a requisite to get beyond this grade in Liber CLXXXV. Please note this is the true grade work. The aim of meditation S.S.S. is to wake up the Kundalini.

The other requisites to reach the next grade (Philosophus 4=7, which corresponds with the sephira Netzach) are:

- Learning theory (qabbalah, Sepher Sephiroth, Liber 777 correspondences).

- Developing divination abilities, which imply learning to perceive the astral more deeply..

- Mind discipline exercises (Liber XVI vel Liber Turris, and Liber III vel Jugorum)

These requisites may be considered as having a supporting role; however, the Initiate that is working in Yetzirah must learn to manage in the astral and perceive it. However, the true advance comes from the awakening of Kundalini.

Kundalini awakens as an astral phenomenon. Therefore, it will not be possible to awaken it if the magician doesn’t have some working ability to perceive and influence the astral.

Kundalini and Liber AL vel Legis

Aleister Crowley’s references to the Fire Snake are very clear. There’s quite a lot in Liber LXV, but also in his main work, Liber AL.

In Liber AL II-22, it is said:

“I am the Snake that giveth Knowledge & Delight and bright glory, and stir the hearts of men with drunkenness. To worship me take wine and strange drugs whereof I will tell my prophet, & be drunk thereof!”.

Crowley’s comment on this passage says, “Hadit now identifies himself with the Kundalini, the central magical force in man.“. Nowhere are the “strange drugs” revealed by Crowley, but they are probably peyote and its active substance, mescaline. A blue lotus wine is also speculated about. Be that as it may, in my experience entheogens are useful to raise the Kundalini serpent.

There is another reference a little later, AL, II-26: “I am the secret Serpent coiled about to spring: in my coiling there is joy. If I lift up my head, I and my Nuit are one. If I droop down mine head, and shoot forth venom, then is rapture of the earth, and I and the earth are one.”

In Aleister Crowley’s Liber AL comment, he stated this verse also references Kundalini. He wrote that the “rapture of the earth” is where union happens, divinizing the elements. This verse is more meaningful if we consider that Kundalini is an essential vehicle to reach the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.

We should also take into account that Hadit and Kundalini are the same thing. In the S.S.S. meditation I previously mentioned, there’s not any explicit reference to Kundalini, but to Hadit.

There is another reference in Liber AL, III - 4-9: “Choose ye an island! Fortify it! Dung it about with enginery of war! I will give you a war-engine. With it ye shall smite the peoples; and none shall stand before you. Lurk! Withdraw! Upon them! this is the Law of the Battle of Conquest: thus shall my worship be about my secret house”.

How does this relate with Kundalini?. In his Comment, Crowley gives us the key: Every island is a chakra. The war-engine is a meditation method. For practice, he points again to the “Section 3 from Liber HHH”, that is to say, meditation S.S.S.

When he writes about the “secret house”, it is a reference to the Anahata chakra. The HGA awaits in this secret house. These verses are directed towards those who have still not revealed it.

How to awaken Kundalini?

Here I should be careful, since everyone is different. Some methods may work better, some may not be as good.

The A.·.A.·. system recommends meditation S.S.S. from Liber HHH. But just like anywhere else, it should be taken by the witty magician as a suggestion and not as dogma. If the method isn’t adequate for the Initiate, it might be better to try something else.

An alternative method is invoking the anima/animus, or Kundalini itself. After analyzing its characteristics, the Initiate may deploy an altar with props related to the anima/animus. Once the invocation is finished, he should wait in silence until that which has been called manifests. Notice that the first stop from an awakening Kundalini will be the Svadhisthana chakra. That is to say, most probably the first phase of its manifestation will have quite a sexual face to it.

A key to success is the Initiate’s ability to silence his mind. It is positive to have practiced pranayama and asana. Pranayama’s forced breathing helps us forget we are breathing. Asana’s forced positions help us forget about our bodies. Silence from the senses is key to perceive astral reality.

Entheogens are useful as well. Crowley recommends them in Liber AL II-22. However, it would be good that the Initiate has the ability to establish a course to his trips. These substances can amplify the Initiate’s ability to perceive the astral, and intensify the astral itself. Even though on one hand this makes things easier, on the other hand the Initiate will have to refine its will to be able to focus, without getting lost betwixt the astral tides.

There’s more methods. In “Aleister Crowley and the Hidden God”, Kenneth Grant recommends imagining the Fire Snake as phallic, penetrating the Initiate (though Grant’s prejudices consider it a practice more appropriate for women). He also gives a long list of ideas including drugs and alcohol, introversion of the senses, the Dance of Dervishes, sexual magick, sadist or masochist violence, the absolute compassion for all created things, passive ecstasy through art, or devotion to the Absolute through the preferred deity. More ideas are given by Kenneth Grant in “Beyond the Mauve Zone” (The Fire Snake and Parasexual Orgasm)

According to Jung, the process is facilitated through the “coniunctio oppositorum”. This is also part of the reasons to do pranayama, balancing Ida and Pingala:

“Kundalini, however, awakens only when hunger drives her. This hunger arises as a consequence of spiritual discipline, through the appeasement of pairs of opposites. When the external process has finally come to rest, the internal begins. Kundali-shakti springs up, whereby her head becomes light. This is the process of becoming conscious.” [Jung, “The Psychology of Kundalini Yoga”]

Kundalini work

Once Kundalini has been awakened, the Initiate will continue working with it, and with the repressed unconscious archetype we call anima/animus.

Rising from the base chakra, it may burn any obstacles in her path in the third chakra (Manipura). This chakra corresponds with Path 27 and The Tower. In order to pass through, the “feminine” and “masculine” must achieve balance. This Tower “broken by war” as Nemo Pandragon writes in “A Secret Key of Thelema”, will become the sacred Temple of Magick.

This process runs in parallel with the refining of the four elements that the Initiate must balance with Spirit on top of the five pointed star to build the Temple.

The force of his Aspiration will finally then allow the Initiate to pierce the Veil of Paroketh and become an Adept. When the Adeptus Minor (external) has appropriately built the Temple in his chest, and calls Kundalini overflowing with this Aspiration, the Fire Snake will no longer coil and sleep again. It will dwell in the Temple so carefully built, so it will become a “Heart Girt with a Serpent”. The Serpent would entwine around the Orphic Egg she built, in which the feminine and the masculine have blended.

I’m the dance that unleashes your potential.

I’m the arrogant serenity that knows and owns her true power.

I’m not your Holy Guardian Angel, but I’m the door to him.

I’m the Power that will bring you to him.

#Kundalini #shakti #Thelema #A.·.A.·. #Liber AL vel Legis #Aleister Crowley #Zelator #Practicus #Philosophus

[noblecrumpet-dorkvision]

Need Help Deciding on a D&D Character

Edit: I made a Twitter poll to help decide: https://twitter.com/noblecrumpet/status/1144389611763961856

As my Tomb of Annihilation campaign is nearing its end (they are exploring level 4 of the Tomb now), I have been offered the opportunity of a lifetime for a DM: to actually play in a game instead of DM-ing it!

The problem is, I have three banger character concepts and no clue which to play. Since I have a lot of followers that can weigh in, I figured I would present them to you guys to help me decide. Each has at least one friendly NPC and one rival/villain NPC in their backstory and a character arc for maximum involvement in the story. Let me know which one sounds the most interesting or exciting to play because I like all of these dudes equally.

The setting is Forgotten Realms, but not the Sword Coast, and I think our team comp has two different barbarians and two other unknown characters. All three of my ideas are spellcasters so I’m not as concerned that I will be going against party comp.

Character 1: Dain, the Undermage

Character: Duergar Slime Sorcerer (homebrewed) focused on dealing a lot of Acid damage.

Appearance: Dain has ash-colored skin with a dirty red beard turned yellow in places from contact with acid. His forehead is magically branded with a column of three dark violet eye symbols rising from his brow. He wears a conglomeration of found and scavenged clothing scraps that form into robes, using bones for ornamentation and clasps. He wears a dark cowl to hide the sorcerous mark on his forehead. His spells all have a visual effect involving green ooze or slime.

Character Arc: Once he understands what heroic comradery is like, or if someone risks their life to save his, he will go from a selfish and greedy miser to someone willing to share his ambitions and to risk his own life for his new friends.

Backstory: Dain was once a proud brewer in a duergar kingdom called Blackmount, a subterranean mountain citadel ruled by Gabrid Grayrune. Brewing is an especially rare and almost taboo art since strong alcohols will cause duergar’s psionic powers to go awry. He lived with his wife, Azntryd.

One day, an aboleth named Thuuldukod took control of a good number of the duergar in the kingdom and spirited them away to its lair. Somehow the aboleth’s transformative slime and Dain’s innate psionic powers awakened a latent form of sorcery within him. He gained power over slimes, acid, and ooze and was also able to break free from Thuuldukod’s control. After freeing some others, they were able to overcome the aboleth and bury it beneath a pile of rock.

   Upon returning to Blackmount, the duergar took in the other freed duergar that survived, but banished Dain. His awakened power marked him with three purple eye symbols on his forehead, and the duergar believed this proved he was somehow still under the aboleth’s control. He left his life and his wife Azntryd behind. Angered by this treatment, he left to wallow in the filthier regions of the Underdark with his newfound powers, going slightly mad as he wondered if he was truly the one in control of his magic.

   Adventurers came by and tried to slay him, thinking the raving duergar was a common monster, but he overcame them. This battle caused him to rethink his priorities and once he noticed the wealth these heroes had accumulated, decided to act on his duergar greed and become a “hero” himself. His ultimate goal is to create his own kingdom to replace the one he lost.

Character 2: Klak, the Dungeon Delver

Character: Kobold Artificer (Artillerist) with a focus on exploration and utility.

Appearance: Klak sports red-grey scaled skin with orange eyes. As an artificer, he is always weighed down with lots of equipment, but thankfully has been able to design a haversack that can hold many of his things despite their weight. His artifacts are primarily made of stonework with glowing crimson runes, including his artillerist turret which grows from nearby stone to attack. The energy of his magic is red with lots of Kirby dots.

Character Arc: Klak is distrustful of warm-bloods but is his curiosity for history and ancient relics easily overcomes this. When he finally reunites with his crush who stayed behind when he was exiled, the only kobold or even person he ever trusted, Klak will have to choose between living in the ancient past or finding his feelings in the present.

Backstory: Klak (“Pebble” in draconic) and his kobold brethren served a green dragon named Andorax the Venom-Fang. Klak was one of the tyrant’s trap-makers. One day when mining out space for a pit trap, Klak came upon the entrance to an ancient lost tomb with magical technology and defenses. Not wanting to tell Andorax, he created a secret door in front of the tomb’s entrance and would steal away to the place when no one was looking. Slowly he began to uncover new secrets and learn how to abuse the magical items there. He even overcame some undead creatures by himself thanks to learning how to recreate a magical turret that once halted his own progress.

   After learning so many new tricks, Klak’s traps began to improve and Andorax started to take notice. He also started to notice when he went missing. Eventually, he discovered the secret entrance and filled it with poison gas while Klak was inside. Thinking quickly, Klak was able to create a gasmask and hide within a secret compartment. He couldn’t risk leaving, and knew that his kobold brethren would soon be combing the tomb for his body, so he dug and mined his way to the surface. Exhausted and running drastically low on air, he breached the ground in the wilderness nearby.

   Now Klak looks for new dungeons to delve, only stopping into town to sell treasures and buy tools and supplies. He knows a dwarven antiques merchant named Helga Goldbraid that shares new leads with him. He has joined adventuring parties before, but is wary of doing so ever since a human fighter, Amyster Bayn, betrayed him to get away with wealth and leave him to die.

   He misses one of his kobold friends whom he had a crush on, Jakryl, a crackshot crossbow sniper who presumably still works for Andorax. Klak was never able to confess his feelings for him before his escape.

Character 3: Gazmin Selunath, the Tide Princess

Character: Triton Bladesinger (elf restriction waived) with a focus on hitting people with her morningstar and blasting things with ice but with valuable utility spells in her back pocket. I imagine her as Thor’s personality, Starfire’s appearance (inverted color scheme) and the feeling of a Frank Frazetta painting.

Appearance: Big wavy green hair down to her calves, blue scaled skin, and yellow-green fins and webbing. She is tall for a triton, and has a powerful muscular build. She wears algae-stained whaleskin leather armor studded with barnacles, and a crown of spiked coral. She wields a magic morningstar whose head is a giant pearl with conical shells for spikes.

Character Arc: Gazmin is a prideful and haughty noble on a self-imposed quest to prove her worthiness to rule by slaying a great evil. However, she will never be satisfied. She has no actual desire to rule, but instead wanted to explore the surface world and its wonders. Her arc will complete once she stops lying to herself.

Backstory: Gazmin Selunath, daughter of Queen Myrthyn and King Genallus, is next in line to the throne of the triton kingdom of Seluna (which lies in a deep part of what the landlubbers call the Shining Sea). Gazmin was taught triton magic at the most prestigious magic schools and also the art of combat from the greatest triton warriors, and combines these skills into a bladesinging style she calls the Orca style. She wanted for nothing, but still realized something was missing. She didn’t feel worthy of attaining the crown and proclaimed that she had been given a task in a prophetic dream from the gods: she cannot rule Seluna until she destroys a great and terrible evil. Seeing no great evils in the kingdom, she opted to leave it and find this evil on land. Her parents gave her powerful triton relics to aid her in her quest. Then they said their goodbyes and she left in search of glory.

   Gazmin is unfamiliar with the ways and workings of the surface world. The first thing she did upon arriving was save a mountain man named Riff Bin from a group of marauding orcs. When asked where he lived that she may return him safely, he said his home was the mountain. She mistook this to mean that he was a great king who owned an entire mountain, and now offers him fealty and occasionally visits to send him tribute. Riff takes this in stride, not wanting to offend the terrifying woman who froze ten orcs solid and shattered them with her morningstar.

   Little to Gazmin’s knowledge, her jealous and treacherous younger brother Elganus has followed her to the surface world in hopes of ensuring Gazmin never returns to claim the throne he believes he deserves.

#d&d #5e #character #dungeons and dragons #character concept #character creation #backstory #duergar #triton #kobold

[caithelps]

Trip by Jhene Aiko RP Sentence Starters Part 3: (feel free to change name(s), pronouns, etc as needed) Find part 1 here, part 2 here

Triggers: Drugs/pills, alcohol

Never Call Me ft Kurupt:

“Oh, boy, I'ma have to call them boys on you”

“Awe damn, I'ma have to call that man on you”

“Something, something, something must be really wrong with you”

“Why can't you just tell the fuckin' truth now?”

“Yes your mama did, she raised a fool, wow”

“What the fuck did you learn in that schoolhouse?”

“To chase them thrills"

“Takin' pills in the hills, Slauson Hills, Overhills might get you killed”

“Not welcome 'round them parts no more”

“Do not run your mouth no more”

“I can't protect you no more”

“It's out of my hands for sure”

“You should've called me”

“Why you never call me?”

“Okay, now you wanna say all that I’ve done to ya”

“You knew all along that I wasn't the one for you”

“So let's stop pretending like we were in love”

“We never shared anything but the drugs”

“We were both numb, never had anything real between us”

“We really must be smoking that crazy shit, in my city talkin' crazy shit”

“But you ain't know I'm a crazy bitch”

“And tell your lawyer that I ain't paying shit”

“Maybe you should chill, really in your feels”

“My bros really in the field”

“Neighborhood is really real and they don't play that here”

“You shouldn't say that here”

“You should've made it clear, my dear”

“Now hey sis, I'ma let you know like this”

“Hit me right back, this Kurupt, okay?”

“The 60's, we ain't worried bout none of these muthafuckin' bustas”

“Ya understand me?”

“From the Overhill to the fronts to the back mayne”

“We pushin' this line to d'nine”

“So don't worry 'bout none of this shit"

“Don't worry 'bout him callin' you and all the rest of that shit”

“You know what? It's his lost, ya know what I'm sayin'?”

“I heard the homie, the homie called me and was like”

“I'm like "No, not Jhené"

“Né-né, you hit me I got you, you understand me?”

“You're the one, I love you, make sure you hit me back”

“This is your big brother, you hear me?”

“Aye, call me as soon as you get this, you hear me?”

“Don't make me call your mama now, I'll track you down”

Nobody:

“Attention is expensive to pay”

“I can't get by on minimum wage”

“Been dealing with this venomous rage”

“Since I was under the age I've been under the influence of pain”

“And I never needed nobody”

“Never needed no one”

“No, I don't need nobody"

“I don't need no one, shit, I don't need no one”

“Fucking up my chakras again”

“My father is a doctor, I've been talking to him”

“All the shit I'm taking could've got it from him”

“I don't have no patience, prolly got it from him”

“Just a product of him”

“Pop one, pop two, pop three, four pills”

“These things tell me how life should feel”

“Fuck you, it's my free will”

“Please don't tell me to chill” 

“'Cause I don't need nobody”

“No one ever listened, no one called me pretty”

“Grampy called me ‘Penny’, I think I am worthless”

“I don't have a purpose”

“Who am I enough for?”

“Why we always lose what we work for?”

“Why we hurt more?”

“Why we never see my mother cry?”

“She's so tough for us, poor her”

“Grab my purse with my prescriptions in it”

“Tiny bursts of optimism in them”

“I'm reversing my decision to win”

“Take this take this, take this, take”

“Back to '88 when everything was great”

“Then life had just begun”

“It is '89 now, everything is fine now”

“I am only one”

“Wait for the 2008 summer”

“I'ma be a mother, wow”

"2012 summer, it just got tougher”

“I don't have my brother now”

“Take this, take six, take pics, faces, famous”

“Face it, fake shit, pain is faithless”

“Yes, I am aware I am tripping”

“I'm here in this hell that I don't wanna live in”

“I smoke on my own, I drink on my own”

“I know it's wrong”

“To people I know, they just wanna know what's going on”

“I can't tell a soul, no, I can't tell no one”

“Don't need nothing from no one”

“But you're not alone, you got me”

“Look, I know what'll make you feel better”

“Here, try this 

Overstimulated:

“Is this thing on?”

“Reverse effect”

“Don't get it wrong, don't get it twisted”

“Don't mix it up, gotta get lifted”

“You know I'm young, you know I'm gifted”

“I'm on a roll, I'm on a mission”

“I need your light, I need your guidance”

“Already high, I'll be alright, I wanna try it”

“Crushing the line, cutting the line, crossing the line”

“Bumps in the night got me over here overstimulated”

“Crushing the line, cutting the line, crossing the line”

“Bumps in the night got me, got me over here overstimulated”

“Why you never stay for long? You always go so fast”

“Who's gonna hold my hand when I'm crashing”

“Took it without looking now I'm looking up the side effects”

“Pill identifier says that I should be dying next”

“My regrets, oh my regrets”

“Over here overstimulated”

“Let's get one thing clear bitch, I am the greatest”

“You are not my peer, you are overrated”

“Know you mad I made it, know you hate it”

“But I'm in this bitch like”

“And if my heart goes out right now this goes out to you”

“This goes out to you”

“What the fuck did you give me?”

“Oh, no no Chill chill”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Did you see that?”

“I don't know what you're talking about”

“Relax, relax”

“Get me out of here

“Why would you do this to me?!”

“Someone give her some water”

Bad Trip:

“I'm having an awful time

“You said you would get me high

“But you took me out my mind way down to the other side”

“On a bad trip”

“Like a child in a womb, with no room to grow”

“In a world I didn't know, I'm confused and cold”

“Now you show me all the things I could never see”

“In a new reality, I cannot believe”

“Bad trip”

“I thought you loved me”

“Someone get me some help”

“You told me you loved me”

“You're a liar, I hate you”

“Where am I?”

“Just calm down”

“Don't touch me”

Oblivion (Creation):

“The world's a fucking mess”

“It's gone to shit”

“I am every bit a part of it”

“I may have started it”

“I try to find a brighter sight”

“An elevated, higher sight”

“It's out of sight”

“Oblivion”

“Wish I would go back”

“I could go back to no one”

“Oblivion, wish I would go back”

“I could go back to nothing”

“My life's a fucking trip”

“It makes me sick”

“I am so jaded and I hate it”

“I'm faking it”

“I try to find a greater shade”

“To be the way”

“To lead the way”

“I need to wait”

“I could go back to nothing”

“There's no lovin' without losin'”

“There's no livin' without bruisin'”

“There's no limit, no delusion”

“Sweet oblivion”

“It's out of sight, out of mind”

“Dear brother”

“Am I still asleep?”

“Last night I saw you”

“And you told me there was coin laundry on the moon”

“I met a boy, he wasn't right for me”

“But now that I'm alone I can hear the spirits talking”

“From the metaphysical to the physical”

“From the inside out”

“Let there be no doubt”

“Sage, means sagacity and intelligence that’s why the indigenous people burned it”

“To bring out the wisdom”

“If you talk to your plants, they will talk to you and they will nourish you”

“Nourish you to a greater creation“

Psilocybin (Love in Full Effect):

“Get it poppin' on this Psilocybin”

“Getting rid of inhibition”

“In a sane asylum”

“I can feel it hit the ceiling”

“When it’s in my body”

“An out of body experience”

“A spirit party”

“Won’t let the day get in the way”

“We’re on a plane to inner space”

“Don’t be afraid, give it away”

“We gotta make a great escape”

“I can do all things”

“By the sunlight”

“What a wonderful life”

“We should do mushrooms by the moonlight”

“What a wonderful ride”

“Right mind, right now”

“Right direction”

“By your side”

“You and I, do or die”

“Who am I?”

“Your reflection”

“Got this Psilocybin in my pocket”

“I am a healing prophet”

“Seeds of promise in my garden”

“I need to harvest often”

“Such a lush experience”

“So mysterious”

“In a sweet delirium”

“No need to rush it”

“I am helping you grow”

“Psychedelics, yes”

“A supreme bright other”

“Can't you see my color?”

“I'm the divine mother”

“Please don't blow my cover”

“Take a ride into paradise”

“Let's go on a journey hidden in the sky”

“Come and take a ride into paradise”

“Open up your heart and let me in”

“I will not let you down”

“Don’t trip, I gotcha”

“Open up your mind and you’ll feel it, the healing”

“Go slowly, go slower”

“No need to rush it”

“Love-lovely feel”

“Now, breathe”

“Breathe through it”

“Be still, be here”

“No fear”

“You are here”

“Breathe, love”

“I'm from Sirius”

“8 light-years away”

“15 trillion miles”

“Without the smiles”

“Let me see you smile”

“Give me 5,200 feet of happiness”

“Now let me see you smile”

“Give me 5,080 feet of happiness”

“Are you living?”

“Or are you just surviving?”

“Are you giving?”

“Let me see love”

“Living on valued energy”

“I got life”

“Love is for happiness”

“Love in full effect”

“I'm from the Universe soul”

“We're all from the Universe soul”

“We're all one”

#rp starters #sentence starters #rp memes #rph #rpc

[meudje]

THE HORORS OF THE DARK AND COLD GETHSEMANE NIGHT.

Finally, the darkest hour of humanity history came. The fate of humanity is IN a balance: if Jesus fails, humanity will be lost for ever, if he succeeds, an eternal door of hope will be opened.

Though Satan did not have the totality of understanding Jesus' mission, he was Nevertless decided to revenge from God. This was the opportunity. He wanted to revenge from the defeat He incurred in heaven during his rebellion's, from the defeats he incurred during Jesus earthly ministry, from the defeat he incurred in the wilderness during his forty days fasting and prayers.

Satan came prepared, he came with his generals of discouragement and with arrows of discouragement. Satan proposes his merchandises to fallen men who delight in them. In the list of his merchandises are: sexual immorality in all its forms(pornography, Masturbation, aldultery, fornication, homosexuality, lusts,..), the lust of the eyes, the Lust of the flesh, the pride of life and all manners of vanities. Men are willing to expend their resources-time, MONEY and energy-to acquire Satan merchandises. Satan knew that sin had no power over Jesus. He came with the arrows of discouragement, after all he hard used the same arrows with great success on great biblical figures such as Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moïse, elija, etc.

Satan started to spit the venom of the old serpent that he has ever been. He questioned Jesus: does Man really NEED your salvation? Does Man really care about you? Can you change Anything about the heart of Man which Is incurably wicked? DON'T waste your efforts. MAN is not worthy of such a sacrifice.

Jesus, being a prophet knew what was awaiting him. He knew The content of the cup. He knew all the prophecies about his own passion. He knew that Isaiah had prophesied that Jesus will be bruised by suffering. Jesus was not anxious because of the torture he was to go through in the hands of romans soldiers but by the contain of the cup. He knew that the cup contained the SIN of humanity, all the sins that have ever been committed and which will ever be committed, your sins, my sins. The cup was to make Jesus become a curse because of you and me. Most of all, the cup contained the wrath OF GOD against sin.

Considering this heavy price to pay for the redemption of mankind, the darkness that was surrounding him ...TO BE CONTINUED.

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Apostle Barthelemy

[theophenes]

The one where Mike talks about Wrestling, because writing plots for other people’s characters is easier.

fOkay, so I’ll be the first to admit that it’s been a while since I’ve actually seen more than friggin’ clips, but there are two things that have recently been trending, that have stuck in my brain:

John Cena wants and Undertaker match, despite the fact that Taker is getting too damn old for this shit.

And the current tag team champions are Bray Wyatt (basically some sort of yokel cult leader with a rocking chair who convinces everyone under him to rock beards) and Matt Hardy (Equally crazy, regularly changes personality by walking into a lake, pretty certain he thinks he’s some sort of God or something)

The reality is that Taker, as much as he is the original god-damned icon, and one of the longest standing people in this business, the reality is that he needs to retie. And frankly, he deserves to retire in fucking style. No amateur shit. No small-time stuff. Nah, he needs to o to hell in a balze of glory. Frankly, this would take msot of a year to set up, but it’d be good. 

It starts simply enough. We get a few of the usual promos leading up to Halloween, through September and October. Weird jump cuts, random shots of Taker shoveling dirt, dragging the coffin, et cetera, the usual stuff. All hype, no clear knowledge.

Mean while, the tag team belt goes up in August, and is lost to, crap, I dunno, Brand new day in a 3v3 (Not like they couldn’t get a third for this, we’ll say Wray brings back Randy Orton under the Freebirds precedent). Anyhow. Hardy blames Wray for bringing in “The Serpent, whose energy corrupted our team” and Wray “Questions the convictions of a broken man.” By mid october, they’re regularly not helping each other in tag matches. Wray decides to put Matt’s convictions to godhood to the test, pushing him to fight the symbol of his failing resolve: A tag-team of Jeff Hardy and Daniel Bryant, doing the team high-flyer bullshit that makes and audience roar. This becomes a feature event at the end of september. It goes badly. Wray manages a win, but he has to go dirty to do it, forcing Matt to snap between his personae to save Jeff from a near-fatal blow at the last minute. Bryant gets to be angry about a bunch of things, and looks good while the audience watches him get a dramatic fake injury.

First week of October, Cena gets a match against Seamus, makes a big monologue (he loves making fun of that guy, seems like a good warm-up) and the match goes on, but is interrupted by Kane, in the classic demon mask (You didn’t think Kane wouldn't get to be the last big Taker story, did you?). He bombs Seamus, causing Cena to lose by DQ. He then grabs a mic. “You demanded my brother’s head at Wrestlemania,” he begins, growling in his usual ominous routine. “You demanded the dead man. You claim to rise above the hate. To be beyond it. Above it. You are not above death, Cena. Death takes all. Death...consumes us. Empowers us. In order to defeat Taker, in order to earn it, you must first fight the true Demon. Slay the demon, and you shall have your match with death!”

Dramatic? Over the top? Damn straight. Bray Wyatt, lacking a tag team partner, gos back into singles matches. He gets into some okay fights, but cuts promos going back to creepy shit, occasionally cut by taker. Everyone knows the match. Bane and Cena doing a cage match. Bryatt, meanwhile, seems crazier than usual. Mumblings about prophecies. About angels and devils. Claiming that the only way to defeat the false gods is to slay a Demon, and taunt death. Everyone thinks he’s talking about Cena. He’s not.

In a few weeks, we get our pay-per-view. A cage match between Bane and Cena. No interruptions. But before it, a new match. Daniel Bryant versus Finn Balor Tables. Bryant decides to wear his cape, Fina goes out in his more normal get-up (the classic paint was nixed because fighting Marvel and Disney over the Venom resemblance seemed like a bad play a month after the movie). Bray Wyatt, shows up, interfering on Bryant’s behalf, although Bryant clearly doesn’t want the help. Ominous masked figures, doing the weird cult thing, grab Balor after the count, running with the body. Wray knocks down the security trying to stop him, and just grins at Bryant. Cena fights Bane, and wins in the rather boring way he usually does.

In November, he gets another promo, where he explains/sermonizes that the demon’s blood was strong enough, after being tested by the dragon. However, it required a cleasning, holy power to draw its true strength out.

After a series of escalating matches where Bryant ends up defeating multiple former members of the Wyatt family, and removing their “brain-washing” by kicking their ass in the ring, Bray and Daniel get a PPV feud going. Bray “summons” his demon Finn in a new look during the match after the lights flicker, and then they fight. The new “Demon of Wyatt” runs amok, and then the match ends.

The new, Wyatt-endorsed “Evil Finn” persona shows up, with perfectly normal Finn doing perfectly normal face stuff, and demon Finn doing weird heel stuff. They never acknowledge each other’s actions or bouts.

 In January, we get more Taker promo’s. Two weeks in, at Raw, Cena has a match, and it ends with the ring going dark. Taker emerges. He grabs the mic. “You have defeated my brother, and we are good to our word. At wrestlemania, we will fight.”

Cena hesitates. “We?“

Taker grins. “Soon, you will learn.”

Bray gets more ambitious, deciding to tag-team with Demon Finn for the tag championship. They win, but again, the stage darkens. Kane emerges, saying there can only be one demon. Only one monster. Bray agrees, and says the mosnter will fight on Raw, in February. However, each demon msut offer their flesh, to prove who is mightier. Bray spends time as Demon Finn’s “manager/handler” in the interim, while Kane occasionally shows up and power bombs somebody to prove his point. They get their fight. However, Kane, being a crafty, weird half-demon, decides to make it a tag-team event. “A demon should bring his sorcerer,” he declares, and who else comes out to confront Wyatt? Jeff hardy, wearing some bizarre, hell-fire outfit, chanting sorcerous lines. Hardy and Wray brawl. Finn and Kane fight. They lose the title, as demon-king Hardy distract Wray, causign him to lose “control” over Finn.

However, Wray has another dirty trick up his sleeve. The same masked cultists that kidnapped Balor appear, and take the weakened Kane and Hardy, overwhelming them with numbers, dragging them away, one of them helping a now-titleless Wray limp out of the arena, leaving the title in the air (this gives management a chance to use a 2v2v2 tag-team event to decide who should get the belt at a big pay-per-view or foreign show).

 Another week passes, and another. We get a new promo segment. In it, we have video of Bray holding the mask of Kane, and the hair of Hardy. He rambles on, about having stolen the mantles of the great demon and the false prophet, and now only needing death’s own head for his collection. He claims to have stripped them of their falsehoods, leaving them to rot.

A new, clean Kane that resembles the corporate look, no mask, no growl, and a weirdly sedate Hardy appear on stage for a few weeks. Jeff and Matt go back to being a tag team again, while the “new” Kane takes some time off for now. 

It’s almost March, we’re near to Wrestlemania, and people are talking. Where is Kane. Is Bray going to debut his plan at Wrestlemania? Why haven’t we heard from Taker all month?

Three weeks before the big night, answers come. Taker appears, alone, monologueing. Cena interrupts the monologue half-way through, because Cena never lets anyone else talk. Cena goes on about how he’ll take on the Undertaker, how he’ll fight and win, because that is what he does. Cena demands his match at Wrestlemania, and gloats about how he defeated Kane--and the lights darken, silently.

When the lights go back on, We see the ring surround by masked figures, the Wyat family’s strange enforcers we see Bray standing there, looking at the other too, smiling. He speaks about he too, has defeated the demon, and throws Kane’s mask at Takers feet, spitting on it for good measure. “You desire vengeance, dead man?”

Taker holds up two fingers. “Two coffins, then.”

Bray smiles. “I’ll bring one for you, your brother wasn’t using it.”

Wrestlemania. Half a year of build-up. Cena enters first, with his usual fanfare. He charges in heroically. He waves to the crowd.

The next entry is Taker, complete with the old entrance. The druids, cloaked and hidden, not seen for years, bring in the coffin.A brief montage of the dead man shows up, but he arrives at the ring confident. Angry. Ready.

Wyatt arrives, flanked by his cult. his champion, Finn, is pushing a different coffin, cast in what looks like iron. It seems to smoke. Finn is wearing what looks like a remodeled version of Kane’s face mask. It looks more like an Alice Cooper video, to be honest.

The match begins, Cena and Wyatt both charging for Undertaker. Taker holds up well--he still has the skills, but it’s two on one, both eager to put taker in the coffin. And then, right when it looks like Bray has the pin, Cena on the floor in pain, the gray coffin opens, and out comes Kane, charging over the ropes at Bray. Finn attempts to stop him, but gets knock to the floor. Kane alternates between fighting Bray and punching Taker, because if anyone is going to end Taker, it’s Kane, damnit.

This four-way clusterfuck lasts for over half and hour. Pins, chokeslams, stunners, lariats, the damn works. After an eternity of fighting, Cena and Kane manage to toss wray into the wooden coffin--and it breaks in two. He returns the favor, whipping Kane into the “stone coffin,” which shatters. Cena gets chucked through the Spanish announcers table, because it should never survive. Taker gets pinned by Wray. Cena pins Kane. They face each other. Wray, making a show over the fallen Taker, performs the Last Ride on Cena. Cean kicks out, attempts and STF on Wray. Wray has no choice but to prove himself as the Dead Man’s successor, forcing him to imitate the Tombstone piledriver.

After the bell is called, the four men slowly walk out of the Arena, happy to Retire the Phenom with a true potent successor. Bray, as tribute, starts wearing the dramatic leather from time to time. Finn occasionally uses the Kane mask during a PPV entrance. And both of these men get to retire to the hall of fame in style, knowing their legacies, of the undead cult-leader and his twisted demon-spawn brother, are celebrated and honored by some damn talented wrestlers in this generation.

#WWE #fanfcition #technically #late night ramblings #wrestling #undertaker #bray wyatt #John Cena #Kane #Finn Balor #jeff hardy #matt hardy #daniel bryant #camp plot #so cheesy

[thinkingimmensely]

Like an Open Book II

Part I | Part III | Part IV | Part V  | Part VI

A/N: Everyone! Thank you so much for the 308 follows! I wasn’t expecting to reach these many at all! And in such a short amount of time too! I’m absolutely thrilled that so many of you read and like my stories. So again, a huge thanks to all of you! Cheers! <3

This part is kind of short, but the next one would be somewhat longer if I don’t change my mind. He he. 

MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!

So without further ado, here’s the next part! Enjoy!

"Lookit who we have here." You flinched as you felt an arm snake around your shoulders. You turned to see Sirius Black smirking at you, his gray eyes laced with mirth. "Little Y/N, off to spend the day protecting snakes again?"

You shoved away his arm and went back to your soup. "Leave her alone, Pads." A tired voice murmured from across the table. You looked up to see Remus Lupin take his seat and start pouring himself some coffee. "Good morning Y/N." He greeted as an afterthought and you nodded and offered him a small smile in reply.

Why are they even here? You purposely sat at the front end of the table near the teachers so other people wouldn't bother you since no one wanted to be in plain sight from the professors. Sirius nestled comfortably beside you and started filling his plate with food and you just noticed Peter Pettigrew grudgingly slip in next to Remus and immediately stuffed his mouth with bread. This was some kind of sick joke, right?

You looked over at the Slytherin table and saw Severus eyeing you in confusion but when he noticed you were looking at him too, he immediately turned away. You went back to your soup, finally consuming it and took a bite of your bread. As you were about to take a gulp out of your pumpkin juice, you noticed that Sirius and Peter were looking at you expectantly although they tried not to. You turned to look at Remus who was currently fixated on reading the Daily Prophet.

Just as the liquid touched your closed lips, James arrived noisily which took the trio's attention from you momentarily. You immediately got out your wand and switched the contents of your goblet with Sirius'. "Why are we even sitting here in the first place?" You heard James annoyingly ask as he shot you a glare. You rolled your eyes at him and drank Sirius' pumpkin juice and smirked behind the goblet.

"Why James, I thought you said you wanted to sit near Minnie today to show her how good of a student you are?" Sirius chimed and flashed him am excited grin. The wheels in James' head were finally turning and he grinned back and looked at you.

"Oh I forgot, good morning Y/N, you feeling alright?" He asked, his voice sickly coated in fake sweetness.

You forced out a smile at him. "Swell. The same can't be said for your friend though." You stated and nodded towards Sirius whose skin, after drinking from his own cup, was starting to turn into a neon shade of green.

"Bloody hell-" James uttered and quickly stood up from his seat to aid his friend. The other students soon took noticed of the commotion ensuing and began to laugh. Professor McGonagall jerked up from her seat, her face red in anger.

"Next time you try to prank me, I suggest something a little more unexpected." You hissed and slipped off from the bench and left the Great Hall just as McGonagall arrived and started reprimanding the boys.

"Y/N!"

You turned around and saw Severus running towards you. "Did you do that?" He asked as he tried to catch his breath.

You frowned at him. "Of course I didn't. Their plan just backfired is all." It didn't seem as if he was listening though since a venomous smile made its way through his thin lips as if he was glad that you were getting back at the Marauders. There were times when you didn't need to to use Legillimency to know what Severus was thinking or feeling anymore and you brought it to yourself to try and sway him away from falling too far as best as you could. "Sev, they're not bad people."

He shot you a perplexed look immediately. "What do you mean they aren't?!" He yelled at you and you flinched at the hate that laced his words. "You know fully well what they did to me!"

"I know! But-" The doors to the Great Hall slammed open as students began to exit. Severus huffed and walked away to go to his first class. You frowned and turned away.

"Had a fight with your boyfriend?" James inquired as he wrapped an arm around you.

You slipped away from him immediately. "Please stop talking to me." You told him and started walking faster, that didn't deter James though as he matched your speed and walked beside you.

"Tell me, when did you and Snivellus become so close? Last I noticed, you didn't really talk to anyone."

You rolled your eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning alone and quickly entered the classroom and sat on the first seat you saw. James smirked at you and shot a wink at the person beside you and went to sit beside Remus.

"Obnoxious isn't he?"

You looked at your seat mate and realized that it was Lily Evans. The redhead glared at James but gave you a smile when she turned to look at you. "This is the first time we've ever talked for the entire five years we've been in the same house and share the same dorm, right?"

You bowed your head in shame. "R-right. Sorry."

Lily shrugged, "It's fine. I should say sorry as well, I never really approached you first either." But with that said, the both of you didn't share another word with each other throughout class. It wasn't only after the professor dismissed you that Lily flashed you a kind smile and gathered her stuff, "I'll see you at dinner then, Y/N."

You meekly nodded at her and she left to get to her next class. When you got up to leave, you saw James still hanging around by the doorway. You frowned and decided to just slip past him. This entire thing was getting pretty exhausting and you needed the energy later for the rest of your classes.

Life, however, had different plans. Because as you tried to walk past the glasses-wearing Marauder, he in turn, grabbed your arm before you could escape. "Let go of me, Potter! Or Merlin forbid, I will hex you!"

James let go of you and raised his arms in front of him, "Woah, woah, calm your knickers down Y/L/N, I just wanted to ask what you and Lily were talking about. Did she mention how handsome I am?"

"Yeah? In which aspect?" You spat and began to walk away. He followed you and stepped into pace by your side.

"What I'm saying is, now that Snivellus is gone from her life, you can be her new best friend and help me out with her. Be my wingman-woman. Wingwoman!” He cleared his throat, “You two hit it pretty well earlier too."

"That's because we share a mutual dislike for you." You stopped walking and looked at him, he mimicked your actions and wore a lazy smirk on his arrogant face. You glared and looked straight into his eyes and noticed for the first time, what a pretty color they were. Bluish with a tint of brown, with specks of gold outlining his pupil. Pretty hazel eyes. You shook your mind away from your latest discovery and delved into the mind and memories of James Fleamont Potter.

If you didn't hate him before, then you did now.

James looked at you expectantly. Your face flushed with anger and envy, because here was someone who has never had any real problem in his life. Someone with loving parents, a wealthy family, good grades, great friends and no real enemy, maybe except Severus. His life was perfect and you felt utterly betrayed that someone like him even existed. Even the handsome Sirius Black had his fair share of downs in his life; and you wouldn't even want to get started on Remus.

No wonder he thought he was better than everybody else. This wasn't fair, but then, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time, that life indeed wasn't fair.

You left him without a single word.

#harry potter fanfiction #James Potter #james potter x reader #severus snape #severus snape x reader #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #peter pettigrew #Lily Evans #hogwarts #the marauders

[wisdom-positivity-teachings]

I have been a little quiet the last two days and it is something you can continue to expect; I am sure though that I will still speak to you.. so I have been using the Bible to prophesy revival and awakening..

Update: after fasting for 21 days the energy of darkness has broken off of me and the word of God is telling me beautiful things about myself and all of you. I was given clear signs that I could stop fasting the war is won.. I ate today, I intend to continue fasting still though. It's just better for me and you if someone puts the world away for a bit.

I want to explain what I've been experiencing but I'm not sure I can .. I shall try. I must have had 30 + dreams in the last two weeks.

There is a verse " the nursing child shall play beside the cobras hole, and the weaned child shall put his hand into the vipers den"

If you've ever seen the movie " legend of the guardians of gahoole" (cool flick), the owls Nana is a snake..

So basically I find that I met Christ then during a sexual relation with my first love had her handmaid passed to me. I essentially had a cobra hanging on me and injecting venom for 7 years. I've been prophesying from this place of knowing the light but experiencing darkness. The evil that is in the whole world latched on to me as it does everyone but I could see it and it couldn't kill me; it became my educator through the eyes of Christ.

Now that it's head is broken all of my interactions in the world have utterly changed; people are friendlier.. fasting did this. Combined with study if the word.

I have been waiting for Christ second appearance to me. Samuel was a prophet and once he was weaned he was presented before the Lord; now I am weaned off my mother's spiritual milk. Nana has died; and the darkness in the world is about to break, I already see the walls of Jericho crumbled.

The Picture is a bridge leading out of town where I have relocated to, so I can continue fasting and reading in peace until I see Christ again; then awakening and revival. Love y'all, I will still speak but at a much slower pace.. 1 dream was of me nursing and the nurse said stop, get off me.. weaned..

#wisdom #mindfulness #spirituality #meditation #energy work #illustration #religion #wisdomofnature #positivity #wisdom of god #Instagram

[signetofworlds]

All Preordained, A Prisoner in Chains (Aroden)

(image taken from Pathfinderwiki, originally from the 100th Adventure Path)

All preordained A prisoner in chains A victim of venomous fate Kicked in the face You can't pray for a place In heaven's unearthly estate

-Neil Peart, “Freewill”

One thing that I pride myself on is having relatively few adversaries despite my incredibly advanced lifespan. I do my best to be friendly with whatever beings I encounter, atone for whatever affronts I make, and when necessary eliminate my rather insistent enemies from existence with minimal hassle. I like to depart whatever worlds I tread upon with no baggage left behind whenever possible, confining any conflicts to the depths of my memory banks for which I have no immediate use.

However, there is one specific individual whom I have neither forgotten nor forgiven in my time, a man who endangered his world and people in incomprehensible ways while being being remembered as a savior. A man who I was unfortunately unable to kill because found a roundabout method of becoming a god, a man who I will boldly say I am glad is seemingly gone from the mutliverse forever. This man is the last Azlanti, the protector of Golarion’s humanity, the emblem of human triumph for much of the planet’s history: Aroden.

Now, before some of you make fallacious claims about me not knowing the legendary man well enough to properly judge his character, let me relay our history together. I was there in Azlant when he worked as a smith, and the bracelets upon my arms were in fact fashioned in his workshop. I was in court the day he claimed that he was the only one worthy of the Diamond Sword (clearly, he failed to acknowledge my presence, although I have little use for such weaponry). I watched him reassemble the huddled masses of humanity into the Knights of the Ioun Star. I was there on the day he raised Absalom from the depths and ascended to godhood, dooming Golarion in ways he might have been able to but unfortunately refused to comprehend.

I should explain how prophecies work, given the impressive amount of misinformation bouncing around on the subject. Imagine the future as bookshelf, one which contains a wide variety of potential tales that one can explore by taking the time to peruse through them. Prophecies take all but a few of those books and toss them into a bonfire, culling away chains of events until only a few near-identical ones remain. Of course, these few remaining futures all tie in some way to the prophet’s own fear or desire, pushing the future onto a specific rail with potentially tremendous ramifications. Destruction of futures is something rather difficult to comprehend for anyone who has never experienced any significant time travel, but trust me when I say that the breakdown of consequences can be disastrous and that sundering fractal timelines is one of the few things that will actually get Yog-Sothoth to display something akin to anger.

The Azlanti people abused prophetic magic in a wide variety of ways over the course of their time on Golarion, and Aroden happened to be a benefactor of this rampant obliteration of timestreams. Born with innately impressive abilities, Aroden benefitted from numerous localized temporal cullings (call them prophecies if you wish) and eventually secured himself a position of effective untouchability. By the time Aroden returned to bring humanity out of the Age of Darkness, so many timelines had been obliterated that probabilities would bend unpredictably in this fellow’s favor simply because any other outcomes had been magically eliminated.

It was at this point that I stepped in and tried to stop Aroden and his prophecy-obsessed disciples from wrecking any more havoc with cosmic forces. I take little joy in conflict, but neither an atom in my body nor a mote in my magic regretted my actions as I slaughtered Azlanti mages en masse over the course of those months. Eventually, Aroden confronted me himself, and no matter what reasons I laid before my old friend he insisted on saving what few scraps of prophetic spell knowledge I sought to destroy. The ensuing battle was amongst the most grueling I’ve ever endured, and only through some obscure spell knowledge and what little luck could still challenge this reality-collapsing fanatic was I able to escape the conflict intact.

But all of Aroden’s crimes against the multiverse pale in comparison to his ascension and what it did to Golarion. When Aroden became the God of Prophecy, his capacity for timeline destruction became far more potent than even the most catastrophic mortal prophets. Upon his ascension, Golarion’s timeline literally collapsed into a single chain of events, with all probabilities and potential destinies becoming set on a single course which Aroden had decided in his supreme arrogance. This total annihilation of free will and probabilistic uncertainty made it incredibly hazardous to even be near Golarion during the Age of Enthronement, which led me and many other mages learned enough to realize this to flee the planet for what we thought would be forever.

The death of Aroden was an event that I was most grateful for, as I felt that I still had much to learn about Golarion. Some blasphemous theologians speculate that Aroden ended his own existence in order to shatter the paradigm of predestination he had created. It is quite possible that he dreaded the future he had foreseen and unwittingly mandated, choosing to die rather than see it come to pass. Perhaps it did actually come to pass despite his best efforts, as I could envision few fates more catastrophic than what eventually became of Golarion. Maybe if he had never trapped the planet on a specific timeline the ensuing multiversal could have been averted.

I don’t know what happened to him, but I most certainly remember Aroden’s unique abilities and fighting style from our numerous encounters. If ever he returns to the world of mortals, I would most certainly like to settle my score.

ARODEN  CR 30

Advanced Azlanti Human Wizard (Sword Binder) 20/Champion 10

LN Medium Humanoid (human, mythic) Init +39M  Senses Arcane Sight, Aura Sight, Read Magic, See Invisibility, Speechreader’s Sight, Perception +37 DEFENSE AC 60 touch 37, flat-footed 49 (+9 armor, +7 shield, +10 dex, +7 natural, +5 deflection, +11 luck, +1 insight) hp 522 (20d6+450) Fort +31, Ref +32, Will +38; Defensive Abilities: Defensive Feedback, Force of Will, Hard to Kill, Immortal, Mythic Saving Throws, Pure Destiny, Recuperation, Unstoppable, Immune ability damage, ability drain, aging, bleed, charm, compulsion effects, curses, death effects, disease, energy drain, insanity, petrification, poison SR 35 (arcane spells only)

OFFENSE

Space 5 feet Reach 5 ft Speed 30 Melee Aroden’s Diamond Sword +39/+34 (1d8+18/19-20/x2), Shield of Aroden +39/+34 (1d4+11), helmet +35/+31 (1d4+7) Ranged +1 Greater Designating Second Chance Seeking Longbow +32/+27 (1d8+14/x3) Special Attacks Always a Chance, Channel Power, Fleet Charge, Glorious Blade, Human Paragon 13/day, Legendary Champion, Mythic Power (23/day, surge +1d12), Shielding Weapon, Sword of the Mage 28/day, Wild Arcana

Spell Like Abilities (CL 24th, concentration +35, 1/day for each level, DC 21+spell level)

9th-Foresight, Gate, Mage’s Disjunction, Miracle, Prismatic Sphere, Summon Monster IX

8th-Discern Location, Holy Aura, Mass Cure Critical Wounds, Mind Blank, Protection from Spells, Shield of Law,

7th-Dictum, Holy Sword, Legend Lore, Refuge, Repulsion, Spell Turning

6th-Antimagic Field, Find the Path, Heroes’ Feast, Hold Monster, Undeath to Death

5th-Dispel Chaos, Righteous Might, Spell Resistance, Telepathic Bond, True Seeing

4th-Divination, Order’s Wrath, Holy Smite, Imbue with Spell Ability, Spell Immunity

3rd-Dispel Magic, Magic Circle Against Chaos, Prayer, Protection from Energy, Searing Light, Speak with Dead

2nd-Align Weapon, Bless Weapon, Comprehend Languages, Magic Mouth, Shield Other

1st-Bless, Comprehend Languages, Identify, Protection from Chaos, Sanctuary, Shield of Faith Spells Known (CL 24th, concentration +39) (DC 25+spell level) 9th—Aroden’s SpellbaneM, AscensionM, Foresight, Mage’s Disjunction, Mass Last Azlanti’s Defending Sword, WishM

8th—Dimensional LockM, Frightful Aspect, Iron Body, Mind Blank, Moment of Prescience, Trap the Soul 7th—Aroden’s Magic Army, Delayed Blast Fireball, Greater Teleport, Instant Summons, Limited Wish, Quickened Displacement, Quickened Protection from Energy 6th—Borrowed TimeM, ContingencyM, Greater Dispel Magic, Mage’s Decree, Mass Human Potential, TransformationM, True Seeing 5th—Banishing Blade, Fabricate, Grand Destiny, Greater Guardian Monument, Lend Path, Overland Flight, Wall of Force

4th—Dimensional Anchor, Dimension DoorM, Create Armaments, Fear, Mythic Severance, Resilient Sphere, Telekinetic Charge

3rd—Aroden’s Spellsword, Daylight, Dispel Magic, Fireball, Greater Magic Weapon, HasteM, HeroismM, Vampiric Touch 2nd—Continual Flame, False Life, Force Sword, Intensified Shocking Grasp, Splinter Spell Resistance, Stricken Heart, Whispering Wind, Winged Sword

1st—Alarm, Expeditious Construction, Floating Disk, Heightened Awareness, Linked Legacy, Long Arm, Magic Missile, Unseen Servant 0 (at will)—Detect Magic, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation STATISTICS Str 36, Dex 30, Con 26, Int 40, Wis 30, Cha 32 Base Atk +10; CMB +38; CMD 58 Feats: Alertness, Arcane StrikeM, Craft Magical Arms and Armor, Craft Wondrous Item, Critical Focus, Dual PathM (Archmage), Endurance, Extra Path AbilityM, Inscribe Magical Tattoos, Mythic Spell LoreM, Heighten Spell, Improved InitiativeM, Improved Shield Bash, Intensify Spell, Quicken Spell, Scribe Scroll, Shield Master, Shield Slam, Two-Weapon Fighting Skills Acrobatics +33, Appraise +38, Bluff +34, Climb +36, Craft (all) +38, Diplomacy +34, Disable Device +33, Disguise +34, Escape Artist +33, Fly +33, Handle Animal +34, Heal +33, Intimidate +34, Knowledge (All) +38, Linguistics +38, Perception +37, Perform +34, Profession (all) +33, Ride +33, Sense Motive +37, Spellcraft +38 Stealth +33, Survival +33, Swim +36, Use Magic Device +34 Languages Aboleth, Abyssal, Aklo, Aquan, Auran, Azlanti, Celestial, Common, Elven, Ignan, Infernal, Terran, Thassilonian, probably a bunch more I never heard him speak, Tongues SQ Amazing Initiative, Arcane Bond (Aroden’s Diamond Longsword), Crusader (score 35), Divine Source (Community, Glory, Knowledge, Law, Magic, Protection), Efficient Creator, Exceptional Stats, Fortified by Prophecy, Knowledge is Power, Legendary Hero, Legendary Item (Aroden’s Diamond Sword, Dedicated Bond, Eternal Bond, Foe-Biting, Perfect Surge, Powerful, Rejuvenating, Returning x2, Undetectable, Unstoppable Strike), Mythic Craft Combat Gear +1 Adamantine Spiked Gauntlet, +1 Cold Iron Spiked Gauntlet, +1 Elysian Bronze Blade Boot, +1 Dueling Inubrex Dwarven Boulder Helmet, +1 Greater Designating Second Chance Seeking Longbow +1, Silver Blade Boot, Amethyst Pyramid Ioun Stone, Amulet of Natural Armor +5, Aroden’s Diamond Sword, Belt of Physical Perfection +6, Bouncing Metamagic Rod, Cracked Dusty Rose Prism Ioun Stone, Dark Blue Rhomboid Ioun Stone, Dusty Rose Prism Ioun Stone, Dazing Metamagic Rod, Disruptive Metamagic Rod, Empower Metmagic Rod, Extend Metamagic Rod x3, Greater Authoritative Metamagic Rod, Greater Enlarge Metamagic Rod, Greater Extend Metamagic Rod x2, Greater Merciful Metamagic Rod, Greater Maximize Metamagic Rod, Greater Quicken Metamagic Rod, Greater Reach Metamagic Rod, Greater Silent Metamagic Rod, Headband of Mental Superiority +6, Iridescent Spindle Ioun Stone, Lesser Extend Metamagic Rod x5, Lesser Intensified Metmagic Rod, Lingering Metamagic Rod, Nectar of the Gods x10, Pauldrons of Unflinching Fortitude, Persistent Metamagic Rod, Quicken Metamagic Rod, Ring of Continuation, Ring of Protection +5, Robes of Azlant, Rod of Absorption, Spellbooks containing every spell he has ever created, Scarlet and Green Cabochen Ioun Stone, Threnodic Metamagic Rod, Wand of Aroden’s Spellsword (50 charges), Western Star Ioun Stone

Efficient Creator (Su): Aroden can craft mundane items as if they were magic items for the purpose of determining the speed of creation.

Exceptional Stats (Ex): Aroden was born a perfect specimen of humanity. As a result, his ability scores were generated using 25 points, rather than using the standard 15 point buy used to create most NPCs. Aroden also has increased all of his ability scores by 5 through use of the Wish spell. Additionally, Aroden has much more gear than an NPC of her level would normally have. These modifications increase his total CR by 2.

Fortified by Prophecy (Ex): Aroden adds his Charisma modifier as a luck bonus to his Armor Class, his attack rolls, and on all of his saving throws, and adds his Charisma modifier to his Constitution modifier for the purpose of determining his hit points. This ability increases his total CR by 1.

Glorious Blade (Su): When Aroden attacks with a sword (including swordlike effects created by spells such as spiritual weapon, as long as they require attack rolls), he can expend a prepared spell as a free action to gain an insight bonus on the attack roll equal to the level of the prepared spell expended.

Human Paragon (Ex): Embodying humanity’s innate versatility, Aroden possesses a much wider variety of abilities than even most humans. He is able to use the Martial Flexibility ability of a 20th-level Brawler, save that he can select non-combat feats in addition to combat feats. Aroden is considered to have 20 levels in every class and a base attack bonus equal to his class level for the purpose of meeting the prerequisites for feats, and is proficient with all forms of weapons and armor. In addition, he is considered to have 20 ranks in all skills and considers all skills to be class skills. This ability increases his CR by 1.

Immortal (Ex): Aroden’s immense magical abilities have sustained his lifespan for an extended period. He gains the +3 bonus to Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma scores for having lived beyond venerable age, but he doesn’t gain the penalties to Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution resulting from this advanced age. Aroden’s supernaturally empowered life grants him complete immunity to ability damage and drain, aging, charm and compulsion effects, death effects, disease, energy drain, petrification, poison, and all forms of madness (including confusion effects and feeblemind). This ability increases his total CR by 1.

Mythic Contingencies (Sp): Aroden has established numerous mythic contingencies, activating the following spells with maximum mythic augmentation under the following conditions.

When Aroden bangs his sword on his shield, he activates a Globe of Invulnerability centered on himself.

Aroden possesses a crystal filling in his mouth that, when pressed with his tongue, transports him to a hidden demiplane using Plane Shift

When Aroden draws his sword, he activates a Transformation effect

When Aroden clicks his heels together, he is affected by both Invisibility and Silence

Finally, when Aroden shouts his iconic Azlanti battle cry (something like “Steel your form and mind.” Honestly I’ve heard better), he activates a Wreath of Blades spell on himself.

Permanent Spells (Sp): Aroden has the following spells affecting him permanently: Arcane Sight, Aura Sight, Read Magic, See Invisibility, Speechreader’s Sight, Soul Vault, and Tongues

Shielding Weapon (Su): As an immediate action, when he casts an abjuration spell, Aroden can gain a bonus equal to 1½ times the level of the spell cast.

ARODEN’S DIAMOND SWORD

Aura: overwhelming all; CL: 20th

Slot: none; Weight 6 lbs.

DESCRIPTION

+5 Axiomatic Phase Locking Spell-Storing Throneglass Longsword was forged by Aroden’s own hand during the height of Azlant, and through his magics he has insured that no other creature may wield it so long as he exists (that...didn’t exactly work out for him). In addition to being phenomenally potent as a weapon, Aroden’s Diamond Longsword can also be used as a substitute for any focus components needed for spellcasting. Spells with expensive spell components cast using the Diamond Sword as an Arcane Bond focus require no material components and do not provoke attacks of opportunity.

DESTRUCTION

Aroden’s Diamond Sword shatters if it is used by a deceitful or traitorous human leader to strike down another more worthy of their position.

ROBES OF AZLANT

Aura: overwhelming all; CL: 20th

Slot: body; Weight 12 lbs.

DESCRIPTION Although they are typically depicted as robes, Aroden’s signature garment is actually a +5 determination glamered heavy fortification vigilant spiked mithral chain shirt with several other unique properties. The Robes of Azlant increase the caster level of the wearer by 4 and possess 4 pockets that function as handy haversacks. When worn by a lawful creature, the Robes of Azlant possess no maximum dexterity bonus and actually reduces any arcane spell failure chance the wielder possesses by 15% (this allows to cast with no chance of failure while carrying a heavy wooden shield). When worn by a chaotic creature, they immediately gain 10 negative levels. These negative levels cannot be removed so long as such an individual wears these robes, but all but two are removed when they take the robes off. These negative levels never kill the wearer, always leaving them with the maximum number of negative levels they can suffer while remaining alive. However, for each negative level negated in this way, the armor cannot be removed for one year.

DESTRUCTION

The Robes of Azlant can be destroyed if it is donned by a chaotic evil Alghollthu. The robes transform and crush the creature to death, ripping themselves apart in the process

Tactics

Most would think that Aroden would fight fair, using fairly conventional tactics in a battle. Here’s an index of some of the more dirty tricks this bastard pulled against me.

-Aroden’s Spellsword. The champion of humanity built this spell himself and exploits it to an incredible degree. His sword carries a rod, obviously, but also his shield, both his gauntlets, his two blade boots, his helmet, his armor spikes, and all four of the daggers he uses for his Wreath of Blades spell. I’ve seen the maniac polymorph himself into some downright ridiculous forms for the sake of grabbing even more weapons (or natural weapons) so he can subsume rods into them and throw copious amounts of metamagic on any spell he casts. On a few occasions I have seen him stuff multiple instances of the same rod into a weapon through numerous castings of the spell so that he doesn’t have to reload.

-The Human Paragon ability has innumerable aggravating uses, extending far beyond the addition of extra combat feats in the heat of the moment (although Aroden has been known to use it for that purpose). Most notably, this ability can be used to grab Spell Perfection for any spell he knows and any metamagic feats that he wishes to boost it with, resulting in an obscene degree of versatility

-Aroden’s Spellbane. I helped him a bit on the research for this one and I most certainly regret it. He usually casts this spell at the start of the day, always making sure to block out Antimagic Field, Greater Dispel Magic, and Mage’s Disjunction so that nobody can get the drop on him without his various boons. I’ve seen him negate healing spells on a few occasions, and at one point opted to negate numerous wall and sphere spells so that nobody would be able to trap him. That said, his most devious tactic has been using a combination of Long Arm, Frightful Aspect, and a Widened Antimagic field to swipe at disempowered opponents without losing his own numerous boons (the bastard usually grabs step up, disruptive, and spellbreaker as well, so escape becomes rather difficult).

- Aroden is almost never alone, and will usually fight alongside his entourage of champions known as the Paragons of Humanity. These Paragons are Einherjar of various alignments (most often lawful, as Aroden loved his supplicants) who have enough templates and class levels in various combinations to each be CR 20. At least 6 Paragons accompany Aroden at any given time in addition to his cohort (whatever poor, idealistic warrior he was able to goad into service at the time).

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