#it's not holy but it's better than that it's something the goddess needs more than all her divine power

[rotisseries]

skyward sword was such a crazy insane game to make like ok what if there was a story about a great evil and a goddess. and that goddess locked away that great evil, but she knew it would come back, and it would need to be defeated again. and what if that goddess knew that for this impossible task, she would need a loyal soldier. so she reincarnates. she reincarnates into a human girl, because the best way, the most reliable way, to get a loyal soldier, is love. and a goddess is respected, and idolized, and revered, but a goddess isn't loved. not like a human girl is. so she reincarnates. and she is loved genuinely and wholeheartedly, by her family, by her peers, and most importantly, by her best friend.

and what if there was a story about a boy and a girl. this one boy loves her so much, that when she falls from the sky, crashing to the earth, and into her immortal destiny, he follows her. and she runs, because she has a destiny, because she's finding out she is part of a divine plot, she and the boy are pawns in a goddess' war plans. did she ever love him did he ever love her or were they just being manipulated by the goddess. SHE'S the goddess. was SHE just manipulating him this whole time? "I'm still your zelda" but is she really? does she know it for sure? she doubts it and doubts it and runs and runs and he keeps chasing her. and she locks herself in time to defeat this great evil and he watches her do it. and he fights because he loves her and he defeats the evil and he gets her back and they're happy.

but what if there was a story about a goddess and a great evil. the evil cursed them for the rest of time. their descendants will never be safe there will always be evil to fight and she'll always be running and sacrificing and he'll always be chasing and fighting.

what if there was a story about a goddess and a great evil. what if there was a story about a girl and a boy. what if it was about the innate mortality and humanity of love and the act of loving. ok. at the walls of nintendo hq

#GIRLS WHEN SKYWARD SWORD #the way nintendo released sksw and then botw AND THEN TOTK. BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER HEARTBREAKING BANGERRR #WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL #girls when “I'm still your zelda” #guys I'm thinking about sksw idk if you can tell #the control scheme is literally hellish but sksw is such a game and I'd replay it right now if the control scheme wasn't literally hellish #loz #sksw #loz sksw #loz ss #skyward sword #zelink #no but it's crazy like love isn't divine in skyward sword it's the opposite it's an innately mortal thing #it's not holy but it's better than that it's something the goddess needs more than all her divine power

[azure-cherie]

𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.

Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!

Pile 1 :

Mon Amour ,

The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.

- yours completely

Pile 2 :

Dear love ,

In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .

- your lover

Pile 3 :

Hey Miss,

Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .

- always yours

Pile 4 :

Hey sweetheart,

I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.

- only yours forever

Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️

#god this felt so god #this was the pac i wrote fastest #pac readings #pac tarot #tarot pac #pac reading #pac #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #future spouse pick a card #future spouse reading #future spouse

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Your blessing

❖ Character: Douma

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1.5k

❖ Summary: You're Douma's favorite and it's about time that his followers start worshiping you - and what's better than making them watch how you ride their leader?

❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, penetrative sex, squirting, voyeurism, fingering, one clit slap

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | @littleoanh is for this to blame

You were always Douma’s favorite as long as you can remember. The day you joined his cult he made a vow to never eat you, that you're meant for something much greater- and while he does occasionally drinks your blood, it's always as an offer from you, worshiping the very ground he walks on. You deserved the same devotion as he did in his eyes, needing his followers to praise you the way they praise him, crave your very presence and worship the ground you walk on, gracing everyone with your fragile humanity. It was no surprise when he made you sit on his lap whenever he sat on his little throne, making sure his followers see the beauty that he calls his own, the one he would destroy the world for. The one not even he dares to disgrace.

“Look how they bow down to you, begging for you to bless them” he hummed into your ear, the grip on your hips tightening when he saw the slightly uncomfortable look on your face. You always preferred not to be in the spotlight, to stand behind the man this was all about was almost more than you can handle but he wanted you to be the main attraction, wanting to go one step further and make them see the way only he gets to see you, to grace their eyes once before they become his next meal. Your body was holy to Douma so he gently pulled you closer against his chest “wear your most beautiful dress tomorrow. I will show them my personal heaven” he whispered, gently kissing your neck before dismissing his followers to plan tomorrow's session without your knowledge despite the proximity your bodies held.

When everyone was gathered in front of Douma’s throne, you entered the room slowly, unsure what's going to happen but Douma took your hand and guided you to sit down onto his lap once again. “You look ethereal my love” he announced proud and held your hips tightly before pushing your legs over his, making you sit there with spread legs as the heat creeped up your cheeks “what are you doing... this isn't decent” you protested shy and tried to close your legs again but he wouldn't let you. “Do not worry, my flower. I promised they will receive a blessing from you, you wouldn't want to disappoint our followers, would you?” He asked with a grin on his face and you knew that any further protest was futile - he made up his mind and nothing would change it. With a long sigh you tried to relax into his chest, knowing very well that the men and women blessed by you in any way are chosen to become his next meal if you liked it or not. You loved the man and were able to look past his ways, past him being a demon.

Douma's smirk grew when you relaxed against him, the tension in your thighs disappearing and he kissed your neck loving “that's right, my goddess. Just relax and let me handle this” he hummed, tearing your dress in a way that exposed your perfect tits to his followers, soft gasps filling the room as you saw some of them blush or avert their eyes, displeasing their leader. “Eyes on her” he spoke demanding and his word was final, all eyes burning on your skin now, waiting for the leaders next move as he started kneading the flesh of your chest, gently tugging and twisting your nipples in ways that made you whimper and lean into his hands even more. You were addicted to his touch just like he was addicted to touching you, closing your eyes to drown out all the people watching the both of you but Douma pinched your nipples harder “tsk. Open your eyes. Bless them. Let them watch, look at their eyes, at their devotion to their goddess” he said stern and ripped your dress further until it was nothing but a broken piece of fabric to be tossed away. It felt humiliating to be completely naked in a room full of people who await your pleasure, who see every inch of your skin, wishing to touch you the way their leader did but they had full faith in him, knowing he will take great care of their goddess.

His slender hands traveled down your body, sharp nails leaving small streaks in their wake but not enough to cut your skin or to hurt you and you felt yourself squirm in anticipation, seeing all these awaiting faces of your followers. There was no reason to be ashamed in front of them, knowing they would never have an I'll thought about their goddess, feeling like they're a witness to the most holy of all ceremonies- getting to see their leader please their goddess. The feeling of his fingers parting your folds ripped you out of your thoughts, your hands holding onto the thighs you were seated on and he smirked at the way everyone's eyes were now glued to your beautiful core, spread for their viewing pleasure. “My my, would you look at how wet you are… are you this pleased by their presence?” Douma teased before biting your earlobe ever so gently. “We should give them what they want, don't you think?” He added and watched your eyebrows knit up in pleasure the moment a single finger slid through your folds to gather your slick so he could flick your puffy clit just enough to make you whimper and clutch onto his thighs. “That's my flower… don't hold these pretty noises back” he encouraged you to let go, massaging your bundle of nerves in small circles until your neglected entrance started to clench around nothing.

Douma knew better than to finger you, his nails far too long and the noises you made when he splits you open on his cock without preparing your weeping cunt first are far too heavenly to not witness. Just to tease you he ran one of his fingers over your entrance and dipping in ever so slightly, a small string of sour arousal connecting to his finger the moment he pulled back to lick his digit clean. “Always so sweet for me” he hummed and lifted you ever so slightly, the tip of his impressive cock nudging against your dripping entrance which made you whine, knowing all too well that he will push himself in with just a single thrust to make you moan his name. He didn't disappoint you, his entire length disappearing inside of your core the moment his tip was entirely past your folds - this time much slower than usual, making sure he can feel every little ridge in your velvet walls and drawing your moan of his name out. “Douuuumaaa” you whined loudly, hating and loving the intense feeling of getting impaled on his huge length.

Douma gave you only a short moment to adjust, your walls already fluttering wildly and sucking him even further inside. “You're my little vixen… so sweet and innocent but the moment you have my cock inside of you, you make the lewdest little noises… don't you?” He mused, thrusting his hips sharply to make you squeal out a moan to prove his point. You wanted nothing more than to close your eyes, to enjoy the feeling fully, hoping he wouldn't notice but Douma had his eyes everywhere. The little slap to your sensitive clit made you open them just a split second after closing them, whining loudly “don't be so disrespectful… they need their goddess to bless them” he almost scolded you and began moving your hips up and down his length, indicating for you to start riding him. It humiliated you, helplessly moaning on your lover’s cock as your followers watched with this intense hunger for you, to touch you, to help you receive pleasure but they knew better than to ever lay a single finger onto your sacred body.

Your walls started to clench around Douma and your moving became harder and harder until he held onto your thighs to fuck into you like there's no tomorrow - and for some chosen ones there would be none. Your moans started to sound like a lewd prayer, chanting his name over and over as it echoed off the walls until the only noise to be heard was heavy breathing and the squelching noise of your obscenely wet cunt, helplessly squirting in the intensity of the orgasm Douma brought to you. “That's it, flower. Bless these lost people with your love, cleanse their souls” he called out proud and continued fucking You through your release just to keep going, rubbing circles onto your overly sensitive bundle of nerves as your followers came closer and closer, wanting to receive their blessing from you which made Douma chuckle “see this, petal? It looks like you need to release a few more times for your greedy people” he mused, feeling your walls flutter in affirmation, knowing you wouldn't mind falling apart on his length until you're begging for him to stop - you always wanted more and more the more you came for him. It filled him with pride to watch you come undone once more, your juices spraying out of you and onto the floor, some drops landing on your followers and he knew that those are the ones he will devour first - but none would leave this room alive, having witnessed his private heaven.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny smut #douma x reader #Douma smut #Douma x female reader #Douma #kny douma #upper moons x reader #Upper moons smut

[corruptedcaps]

Bad Blonde: Dora

This is a follow up to Bad Blonde

Lucy had hoped that a good night sleep would have cleared her mind of any further urge to put on the wig but her dreams had made sure to stoke the fire of her desire. Her dreams were filled with images of herself as Lucia. She was feared and loved in equal measure and took what she wanted without care for anyone else. It felt liberating. She was filled with such confidence and power in her dream world that when she woke the next morning she felt incredibly deflated.

At breakfast she stared intensely at the fridge freezer knowing what was hidden behind the door. She could almost hear the voice of the wig call out to her, tempting her to open it, rip open the garbage bag and shove the wig on her head. She found herself wet at the mere thought of it as she sat eating her breakfast. She felt on edge and wasn’t sure she could last. She hadn’t even noticed Dora walk in.

“Hey babe, you look like a wreck.” Dora said bluntly. Lucy knew her girlfriend meant it out of worry but the comment made her snap.

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Lucy hissed at Dora who seemed taken aback by sudden vitriol.

“I-I just mean you look like you had a bad night sleep is all.” Dora said sheepishly backing away slightly.

“Well I did if you must know but keep your comments to yourself.” Lucy said filling with rage by the second.

“Lucy what’s gotten into you? First it was that nasty comment yesterday then I get home and you didn’t get the food you said you would and now you’re acting like a b-i-t-c-h.” Dora said finding some courage but almost instantly regretting it when she saw the fire in Lucy’s eyes.

Lucy was livid staring at Dora. How dare she be so insolent! Who did she think she was speaking to? Lucy was a goddess compared to Dora.

That’s when it hit Lucy. She wanted the power over Dora, she wanted to be her bully more than she wanted to be her girlfriend. The wig had given her a taste of being a bad bitch and now she was addicted. She needed to get out of the house and away from the wig before she became the monster she was desperate to be.

“Just stay the fuck away from me.” Lucy said pushing past Dora and heading outside away from the temptation. Of course Lucy meant what she said to Dora as a way of protecting her but Dora stood in the kitchen, eyes filling with water, not knowing what she has done to so upset her girlfriend.

Unfortunately at times like this Dora turned to something sweet to make herself feel better. Opening the freezer to take out her favourite container of ice cream she was instead faced with a black garbage bag. Pulling it out she was surprised at how light it was. Out of curiosity she ripped open the bag to find out what was inside.

“What the heck?” Dora said finding the bright blonde wig inside. She recognized it immediately as the wig from the store and thought Lucy must have bought it but why was it in the fridge. All her questions seemed to fade away though as soon as she touched the wig. She was instantly enamoured by it and a great desire to wear it arose inside her.

Lifting the wig over her own dull brown hair she gently moved it into place. Within seconds the blonde hair was tightly on her head and for a second she thought about what Lucy had said yesterday about the wig not fitting her head. Maybe she had been right.

“Or maybe she was jealous of how good you would look with me on your head?” The wig cooed inside Dora’s head. Dora was understandably shocked to hear someone else’s voice in her head but still didn’t take off the wig.

“Holy cow, are you real? Am I going mad?” Dora asked into the air.

“Of course I’m real honey and you should be mad. Mad for what Lucy puts you through. For the way she treats you. You deserve more respect, not just from her but from everyone.” The wig said.

Dora had a sudden realization while wearing the wig. This was why Lucy acted so mean yesterday, while she was so on edge today. Even now Dora could feel the wigs tendrils trying to corrupt her. It felt good but Dora knew the wig was bad news. It was trying to turn her against the love of her life and imagined it had tried to do the same to Lucy. A plan formulated in her mind to get the wig out of their lives, she just had to play along…

“Respect? Me? Look at me I’m a flabby nobody.” Dora said rejected.

“That’s true but let’s see if we can’t make you a hot somebody!” The wig said moments before Dora felt her body begin to shift and transform. Her weight instantly rearranged itself around her body giving her a sleek but still curvaceous form with any excess fat going straight to her tits.

“Holy shit! What have you done? I look so…so… so fucking sexy.” Dora said letting the profanity fly. Her mind was still on the plan at hand but she was loving the way her new body looked with the combo of the blonde hair. She didn’t have the same hang up with being blonde as Lucy and in fact admired the gorgeous blonde women who lifted their noses at them on a daily basis. Sure they were mean bitches but they were popular, loved and feared in equal measure.

“Don’t you think you deserve respect now?” The wig asked. To the wigs surprise Dora took a moment to answer.

At her core Dora wanted to be accepted but also wanted to stand out from the crowd. That’s why she loved thrift shopping, she wanted to be noticed even if she was mocked for it. Now however she could be noticed in a more pleasing way. She’d never be mocked like this. Her mind swam with the possibilities but her conscious pushed her forward with her plan.

“I guess but respect comes with some amount of power right? I feel like I would strain to lift a handbag right now.” Dora said stroking her soft but weak arms.

“You’re totally right! What is respect without strength to back it up?” The wig said happy that Dora was suggesting ways to corrupt her further. The next moment Dora felt her whole body tingle as here muscles toned and strengthened. The look of her body remained unchanged but she knew she could now lift a man twice her size with ease. The thought alone made her wet. She lifted up a stone paperweight on her desk and squeezed it. Easily she turned it into dust. She knew if she was to defeat the wig she had only one shot before she gave in to its corruption.

“Mmmm yessss no one will mess with me now! However raw strength can only take me so far. You have real power. You can change my very body with a thought. Power like that would make me unstoppable don’t you think?” Dora said admiring her improved form in the mirror nonchalantly while hoping her plan would work and thankfully for her the wig took the bait.

“Absolutely! Dora you are a joy to work with, you have such naughty ideas. Take my power and become a goddess!” The wig purred and Dora felt her body suddenly levitate off the ground as it became infused with dark magic. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as black electricity came from her head and enveloped her body. Electricity which unexpectedly burned away any remnants of her soul.

She moaned with delight as her mind filled up with dark schemes and the desire to enact them. She had full knowledge now of the wigs capabilities and couldn’t wait to use them. She felt unleashed for the first time, well mostly.

“Doesn’t my power feel delicious running through your veins. You should be honoured, I’ve never let anyone share them before.” The wig said as Dora slowly returned to the floor with a cold look on her face and a more confident stance in her posture.

”Don’t worry you’ll never have to share them with anyone again.” Dora said with a smirk as she ripped the wig off her head. Her body remained the same however except her hair was back to its normal brown colour. Walking over to some candles on her table she picked up the lighter that was beside it and without hesitation lit the wig on fire.

“Now that I have your powers I don’t need you anymore. My plan was to strip you of your abilities so no one could be corrupted by you again and it worked flawlessly but I didn’t expect for the magic to wipe away that pesky soul of mine. What a delightful side effect. As a result it awoke the bitch inside me. It opened Pandora’s box if you will. Mmmm what a hot name, I think I’ll take it.” She spoke to the wig as she slowly watched it disintegrate with pleasure.

As the last hair went up in flames, Pandora smirked knowing she was in charge now. No wig, no Lucy, no anybody, she would never play second fiddle to anyone again.

Walking back to the mirror she looked at her new body with glee but also with plans. What the wig had done was a good start but with its unlimited power she would become every bit the goddess she now felt.

Most were simple improvements on what she already had. She increased her cup size, tanned her skin, grew her nails etc so the most obvious change she made was to turn her hair to the blonde colour of the wig. It might have been residual influence of the wig in her mind but couldn’t see herself as anything other than a blonde now.

“There we go. Perfection. Now to make sure I’m completely unstoppable.” She said taking out her phone and texting Lucy asking her what the strange bag was in the freezer. She knew that would have Lucy scurrying home. In the meantime it would give Pandora some time to test out her ability to shapeshift clothes into something more fitting her demeanour.

Less than 30 minutes later Lucy burst into the apartment calling out for Dora and hearing only a soft ‘here’ come from their bedroom. Pushing the door open Lucy expected the worse and found her fear realized to see a completely transformed Dora sitting before her clad in red velvet, holding a glass of wine, looking every inch the villain.

“Oh god Dora, it got to you too?! You have to take it off before it permanently corrupts you.” Lucy pleaded but Pandora just smiled an eerie smile at her.

“Why? So you can have it to yourself? So you can become Lucia?” Pandora said.

“No of course not I-you, eh it’s just evil is all and it’s no good for you or for me.” Lucy said flustered for being called out.

“Oh dear it had you bad didn’t it? You’re stammering and lying to the love of your life. You would do anything to have that power again wouldn’t you? To become that bitch Lucia again wouldn’t you?” Pandora said getting to her feet and standing imposingly over Lucy.

“No how could you… I mean it was nice but… oh fuck you’re right! I loved being hot and mean and evil! I came rushing back not to protect you but to have the power to myself but I’m too late.” Lucy said dropping her head in failure. Pandora however reached out and lifted her girlfriend’s head so they were staring eye to eye.

“Lucky for you the power the hair had no longer exists in the wig. Mainly because the wig no longer exists so it doesn’t make the rules anymore. I do.” Pandora smirked as she reached behind her head and pulled at her long golden hair producing a large ponytail like clump that didn’t diminish her own hair. In fact it was like she pulled the hair from thin air.

“I’ll give you a choice. Become my second in command and receive a fraction of the power you would have had or remain your unremarkable self. Lucy or Lucia, the choice is yours.” Pandora said holding the hair out for Lucy who waited no time at all the grab the hair and put it on her head.

The hair eagerly latched onto her own hair creating a tight high ponytail and spread outward like a virus turning the brown into blonde. Lucy threw her head back as the corruption rushed from down her body giving her the body she so craved.

Within seconds she had completely transformed into a new woman, she was once again Lucia. This time however the creeping ill will towards Dora that the wig had poisoned her mind with was gone. In fact she positively adored her. She knew that she would do anything for her now. Anything for her Queen.

“Welcome back Lucia. How do you feel?” Pandora said practically proud of her first creation.

“Perfect my mistress. Thank you for deeming me worthy of you power. I am forever in your debt.” Lucia said looking at Pandora with undying loyalty.

“Good. You will help me recruit more girls who desire a status change in their life. I will provide them with ponytails to give them everything they desire turning them into my army of slutails. With them at my disposal, I’ll enough to take control.” Pandora said gathering her bag and preparing to leave.

“Control what mistress?” Lucia said following obediently. Pandora turned around and smiled at her ignorant thrall.

“Why everything of course.” Pandora said followed by a sinister chuckle. The two changed women left their dingy apartment with conquest on their mind.

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #corrupted hair #corrupted wig #evil couple #sequel

[kiralisa]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇

G O J O X A F A B! R E A D E R

WARNINGS: MDNI, not proofread(I made this at 1 am don’t murder me), drinking, fingering, first time, fluff, no protection (don’t have kids, they expensive$$), creampie if you like squint ur eyes, smut with some plot because I have issues.

First fanfic, tried to make it to where any girlie can read this!<3

The greatest of his clan, Gojo satoru was a god in a man’s body. He who was deemed the strongest at birth, causing the world to shift into his own hands….how could he be so strong yet feel so weak when around you???

Years went passed, years of Gojo satoru’s endless training as a kid. While never pushing passed his boundaries he still managed to become quite strong. He was finally in the hands of the jujutsu world and with his arms out he fully welcomed it. It was his first day of high school in jujutsu so of course he had to be on his best behavior in his words.

“Everyone welcome your new classmate Gojo satoru.” Yaga inquired two students, Suguru Geto, and a girl named Shoko leri. “I simply hope these two won’t be useless to me…huh?” Satoru turns his head to see there are 4 desk yet only three students. He turned to Yaga with a questioning look. “Well Mr. Gojo satoru there is another student but she is late..” Yaga said with an annoyed face as if Gojo wasn’t also late.

Gojo looked at both of the students who had no care in the world only looking at their phones. He turned to look at Shoko first, she was smoking?? Unhealthy he believed. Then turned to look at Suguru, bangs…such weird looking bangs…Gojo also thought to himself before Suguru looked up at him. “Can I help you..?” Suguru asked confused and concerned why Satoru look at Suguru with a judging manner. “Your bangs are ugly dude-“ Before satoru finsihed his sentence the door slammed opened out coming a new student…you. Even through puberty hit like a bitch and made you hate life it isn’t to bad, whether you became tall or short, chubby or skinny, you still were as beautiful as a goddess to Satoru.

“Holy shit that train took longer than expected..” You said trying to catch your breath. Yaga deeply sighed as if he was a disappointed dad..”Everyone meet Y/n, she is a transfer student but she shall be respected as one of our own.” And with that you smiled while being extremely awkward. You sat down and tried to make small talk with your fellow classmates.

“Uhm Hi what’s your guys names?” You said as if you weren’t a HOUR late. Each of the three students said their name “Sup I’m Shoko..” She said trying to light her cigarette. “Well hello there~ I’m Suguru Geto. It will be pleasure to be your classmate.” He said in a gentle manner. You swear ur heart skipped a beat. “Hehehe…I am Gojo satoru. Yes yes THE Gojo of the Gojo clan, six eyes and limitless~” Gojo said in a very…well…Gojo kinda of way.

Everyone deadpanned Gojo as he only looked at you, while extremely embarrassed for him you couldn’t help but laugh at his reply. “Hahah, ohhh so you’re like a big cool boss kinda guy huh? pfhh hahah!” Gojo quickly got embarrassed and started to blush as well as explaining himself “W..WHAT!!! No! I was just saying how I am the strongest of generation!!! Do you wanna fight or something!!!” As you continue to laugh at Gojo became more red Shoko and Geto looked at eachother and just smirked. “So who’s asking who first..” Shoko betted towards Geto. “Well…we’ll just have to find out.”

And that’s how ur friend group started, on that day everything ur life would change, for the better or for the worse. A year later as you’re all second years you’re all still young and dumb, yet still strong and mature when needed. “Hey guys we should totally celebrate for the first years!” Gojo screamed as he ran over too you and you’re two loyal companions. Even after the death of Riko torn everyone and almost caused Geto to create a master genocide. Everything ended up working out, and you would finally celebrate the two first years for a job well done.

“Hey Shoko how drunk would you have to be to sleep with one of the boys?” You said as you did your make up because if something was being celebrated you had to look hot while doing it, you also wanted to finally get laid as you were never well….did it before. “Girl the world would have to end for me to even think of sleeping with them.” Shoko said while laughing. You softly shake your head before putting on ur dress and getting ur hair done. Finally was time for you to get some bitches…

The party was LOUD and when I mean loud I mean capital L-O-U-D. You walked in to see many students, you didn’t even realize there were that many. Even members of the zenin clan were there. “Ughh Shoko where are the boys at??” You said trying to not step on people while holding onto Shoko. “They’re right here silly.” She said as you turned your head to see Gojo and Suguru with matching suits on. “Glad you two could make it..” Suguru said obviously checking you both out, but Gojo’s eyes never left yours. “You look…beautiful, so beautiful and sexy..” He said blushing when he realized what he said. “I- I mean…would you like to uhm…chill in my room..?” He said with nervousness obvious in his tone. “Hehe I would love to do that! Come with me lover boy~” as you dragged him off. Shoko turns to Geto with a sly grin, “looks like you owe me $20~” She said as she grabbed a cup. “Ugh..fuck me..” Geto muttered under his breath.

Laughter could be heard as you dragged Satoru to his own room. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous already Gojo hehehe~” you said while also trying to not be nervous. “M-me?? Nervous hah! I don’t make me laugh!” He said as he grabbed you and thrown you into his room before shutting his door. He slowly started to walk towards you, nervous but shown himself as confident, it felt like the world had frozen.

You were pure red, blushing from excitement and embarrassment. You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been inlove for so long, you wanted this moment yet you were scared. You took a deep breathe as you saw him staring at you like a god would to his subjects. “W…well..Mr. Gojo the strongest…what are you gonna do-“ you were quickly cut off my gojo’s finger pressed on ur mouth, he looked up at you with love in his eyes. “It’s satoru for you. Only call me satoru..” he said before looking at you while holding ur chin waiting for your consent. With the nod of your head he began to kiss you.

It was slow and sensual at the same time soon your tounges fought for dominance which of course he won’t as his knee started to grind inbetween your legs. It was so…much you’ve never felt such pleasure nor did you know someone could give you such pleasure…well Gojo wasn’t just a someone.

“Look at you..all big talk yet you’re shaking under me, look how adorable you look~” satoru said with a smirk. You wanted to say something back before you let out a loud moan, you saw Satoru’s hands inbetween ur legs messing with your clit as he kissed and bit ur neck with his own love marks.

“N..nghh~..S..satoru~ to much AH~!” you said as he bit ur ear, “that’s doesn’t sound like to much if you’re moaning like a whore baby~” He grabbed your dress before pulling it off as he unbuckled his belt. “We gotta get you all ready for me….” He said as you were shivering trying to catch up to him. He soon pulled your panties to the side as he touched ur entrance with his long leaned finger.

Rubbing your clit while using his fingers to pleasure you as you grabbed the sheets while moaning loudly. You were sure everyone had already left yet you still wanted more. “More! Please more!” You practically screamed and he slid another finger. While it was uncomfortable at first due to the new feeling you soon couldn’t fight the pleasure it brought you.

Gojo softly laughed before looking at you in the eyes. “How bad do you want it. Beg for it.” You had no other choice. Not like you were thinking straight anyways, while people got drunk off of the achohol you got drunk off of the pleasure. “Ngh…! Please please I want you! I want you so bad please I’ll be good please~!!!” Gojo soon pulled his hand out of you, it was wet, messy, and sticky as he licked your juices off his mouth. He soon grabbed your thighs apart with a serious stare looking at you for your consent which you helplessly nodded.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” He said. “Yes yes yes!! Please please give it to me!!” If you could overdoes on pleasure you might as well call yourself dead. He soon lined himself up before slowly thrusting into your body. “Ahh..fuck so…so..so fucking tight..” he said as he shoved his head into your shoulder while you silently screamed as he shoved half of his member into you.

“Ugh fuck! So full~!!!” You said moaning into his ear as he pounded into your body without an ounce of mercy. Your legs shaking as you screamed his name and smaller curses as he thrusted into you. “Please!!!please please!! Give it to me S..sa- TORU~!” He held onto you as he thrusted upwards hitting that sweet sweet sensitive spot. “Ahh…fuck taking it like a good girl.” He said as he squeezed your legs even tighter. “Ngh..! G..gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum..!” He whimpered into your ear as he scratched your back, your back arched as you feel yourself coming undone onto him. “OH FUCK~! I-I can’t to much hah~!” She screamed as she grabbed Satoru’s hair and pulled. “Almost there…gonna cum oh fuck~! Cuming cuming inside! Gonna make you a mommy and gonna- oh fuck~!”

He quickly came before almost falling ontop to you but using the last of his strength to move to the side before wrapping his arms around you. “How is it, that I’m the strongest yet I feel so weak near you..” you softly chuckle. “Because that’s what love is…and I love you…so very very much…”

The strongest, the unstoppable realized then and there that if that’s what love meant then he was devoted to you. Because not only did he feel weak around you. He felt at home. Loved. So why does it matter if you’re strong because you take all his strength with that smile of yours. “Then I love you too.” He said before kissing your head passing out with you while the party downstairs didn’t even notice you guys gone..

A N: Ahhh!!! This is my first fanfic so I hope you’ll enjoy my content and consider following for more!! Hope you can use my ask for things such as suggestions, tips, or just to talk!! For other fanfic writes hope we can be moots and thank you all for reading this!

Please do not plagiarize, steal, or copy this fanfic, but please take inspiration to create and write ur own fantasies but please ping me into the fanfic so I can read the beautiful creation<3

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu fanfic #jujutsu smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo fanfic #fanfic #smut #jjk smut

[kallie-den]

Voice of the Goddess

The annoyingly pious, prudish party cleric suddenly changes her tune after a dark artifact connects her to a dark goddess with mind-warping powers and a very, very different set of values

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“That was one hell of a battle,” Ghelda the barbarian said, stretching out like a big cat across the floor of her tent. “Those cultists put up a better fight than I’d expected. All that dark magic bullshit. At first, I figured they were too obsessed with sex to know which end of a weapon to use.” She flashed a wicked grin. “Here to tend to my wounds, Zareen?”

“Is that what you want?” Zareen the rogue purred. Lying next to the barbarian, she was tracing the lines of Ghelda’s abs with her fingertips. Ghelda was the size of a mountain, and every bit as rugged. “Bandages? Ointments? Do you need to tell me where it hurts?”

Ghelda let out a gut laugh that made the whole tent shake. “Oh, I can think of something that needs tending alright. Maybe you can suck the poison out.”

“Maybe I can.” Zareen winked suggestively at her. “The only question is: are you just going to lie here while I do? Or are you gonna put those big, strong muscles of yours to good use?”

“What did you have in mind?” Ghelda propped herself up before wrapping her hands around Zareen’s slender hips and pulling the rogue into her lap. “Upside down, like before? Or something more exotic?”

“Well, I swiped this pleasure scroll from the cultists,” Zareen replied, squealing playfully as Ghelda slapped her ass. “And the positions are quite something. It’s some real dark magic.”

“Yeah?” Ghelda’s deep voice was thick with lust. She reached down and started unfastening her loincloth. “Then how about we-“

“Creatum aqua!”

Ghelda and Zareen had no time at all to react before the entire tent was drenched in a torrent of ice-cold water that appeared from thin air above them. The tent immediately collapsed from the weight of the deluge, and it took much kicking, scrambling, and swearing before the pair of adventurers finally extracted themselves and clambered to their feet, both of them soaked to the bone.

“What the fuck, Lialeth?” Ghelda raged, scowling at the person standing before them. “Do you truly not have anything better to use your magic on?”

Somehow, even though she was dry and unharmed, Lialeth, the party’s cleric, managed to scowl back twice as hard and look twice as displeased. She folded her arms. “In fact, I do not. What better use could there be than ensuring the hero’s party doesn’t lapse into sin and depravity?”

Ghelda bristled like an angry tiger, and Zareen rolled her eyes. “We’re having this conversation again?” the rogue drawled. “Surely your annoying little goddess has greater things to worry about. Frankly, she must be furious with you for wasting so much of her precious time.”

Lialeth prided herself on being immaculately composed. From head to toe, she was every inch the perfect priestess. She dressed modestly in spotless, white robes, and adorned herself with nothing except for a sacred symbol, a prayer book, and a few other holy relics. She even kept her neatly braided hair hidden beneath a black veil. She looked like she belonged in a cloister, not on a battlefield. But through countless battles and hardships, her face always remained pressed into an expression of serene composure and pious determination.

When she heard Zareen refer to her ‘annoying little goddess’, however, she turned as red as a tomato with barely-restrained fury.

“Blasphemy!” she cried. “The Goddess of Light deserves the utmost respect! Violent malefactors like you are unworthy to even speak of her! I have tried so very patiently to correct your behavior and explain to you both exactly how much she disapproves of all your misdeeds - but you do nothing but laugh at her teachings! How many times do I have to say it? Fornication outside of marriage is a terrible sin!”

Ghelda just snorted. “If the gods didn’t want me to sleep around, they wouldn’t have blessed me with this.”

She reached down to her groin and made an obscene gesture that had Lialeth turning an even deeper shade of red.

“How dare you!” the cleric spluttered. She knew very well what Ghelda was hiding underneath that loincloth. The barbarian boasted about it often enough. “Honestly! It’s a testament to her infinite kindness and patience that she still wishes me to travel with you. Or a test of my own piety, perhaps. Certainly, the likes of you don’t deserve to receive her blessings - or mine.”

“Aren’t you tired of this little spiel?” Zareen sighed. “We’ve heard it a hundred times, Lialeth. It seems like you prefer the sound of your own voice to that of your goddess. What makes you so sure you know what she wants, anyway? Aren’t you priestesses supposed to be humble?”

“I’m a cleric!” Lialeth shrieked. “I can hear her voice! The Goddess of Light speaks through me! And I promise that I will make you listen, sooner or later!”

“W-what’s going on? Why is everyone y-yelling?”

Another party member was approaching from the far side of the camp. She spoke in a timid, uneven voice punctuated by laughs and irregular, high-pitched tics, and wore a florid black dress so large she was practically drowning in it. Her hair was an unkempt mane of deep purple, and she was clutching a sinister-looking grimoire that drew a fresh scowl of displeasure from Lialeth.

It was Hecatz the warlock.

“Hecatz,” Zareen exclaimed theatrically. “Welcome to the sermon! Lialeth was just telling us all about fornication.”

Hecatz let out a low, filthy giggle. Zareen didn’t have much in common with the shy, nerdy, bookworm warlock, but a shared antipathy towards Lialeth was easy to bond over.

“T-this again?” Hecatz muttered in a nasal voice. “Boring.”

“The devil-worshiper, defending sin? I’m not surprised!” Lialeth rounded on the warlock. She disdained Hecatz’s magic as ‘dark arts’, and made no secret about it. Plus, Hecatz was also no stranger to sharing Ghelda’s bed. “I won’t pretend there’s any saving you."

“You know, you could always join us,” Zareen purred. She lifted a hand to her lips and split her fingers in a V, and started extending her tongue between them. “Maybe we can be the ones to teach you a thing or two. Maybe you’d enjoy it. You must be harboring a few naughty little fantasies, underneath all that repression and haughtiness. A good fuck might be exactly what you need to finally get that stick out of your ass.”

“How dare you!” Lialeth screeched again. She drew herself up as tall as she could. “I take it back. All of you are beyond saving. The best you can do is bow down to the goddess and beg mercy for your-“

“Lialeth!” came a loud, firm voice. “That’s enough.”

All four of the other party members turned to see the final member of their company - Mireille, their leader - striding towards them. Finally, Lialeth’s expression started to soften.

Mireille was a hero, and she looked like it. Clad in shining armor, her handsome looks and long, blonde hair shone like the sun. She was a beacon of virtue, and even Lialeth couldn’t find fault with her. If not for Mireille, the party would have long since collapsed into infighting and acrimony. As prophesied, it was Mireille who had bound them together and who led them across the land, fighting evil wherever it could be found. She walked with destiny at her side, and everyone who met her knew it.

The only thing Lialeth didn’t like about her was how tolerant she was of people’s flaws.

"Mireille!” Lialeth protested. “They were-“

“I know,” Mireille interrupted. Her voice was gentle, but she sounded weary - from the battle, Lialeth assumed. “But it’s been a long day. We all need to blow off steam. Surely you can forgive them that.”

“Well, of course,” Lialeth acknowledged. “But that’s why this is so important! We should be blowing off steam together. I can lead us in a circle of prayer and ritual purification! That’s what the goddess demands. Especially after that vile orgy we just witnessed! If they’d only try it…”

“Lialeth,” Mireille said, pointedly ignoring the way Ghelda and Hecatz were snickering at the mention of ‘blowing off steam together’. “The goddess only wishes the willingly faithful to partake in her rites. Isn’t that so?”

“That’s true…” Lialeth conceded. Suddenly, she felt herself on the back foot. “But they should-“

“They have made their feelings clear,” Mireille explained kindly. “Everyone has their own way to relax and recuperate. Some are simply a little… rowdier than others. I’m sure you can find it in your heart to overlook that. Nobody’s perfect. Not even me.”

She smiled, and Lialeth knew there was no going against Mireille. Not when she smiled like that.

“But…” the cleric protested weakly. “The goddess demands…”

“I’ll pray with you,” Mireille offered. “Just as soon as I’ve finished patching up my gear. We can conduct all the proper rites together. I always find peace in them.”

She did - although Lialeth also knew she enjoyed drinking with Ghelda, exploring with Zareen, and discussing books with Hecatz. That was Mireille all over. She was everyone’s hero.

“Very well,” Lialeth said stiffly. “There’s a spring in the woods, a short way north. I’ll wait there. At least there I’ll have some quiet.”

She turned her back, ready to make off in a huff, but Mireille stopped her.

“Wait,” the hero added. “I found something, at the cultist’s camp. An artifact. I was hoping you could take a look at it? Purify it, perhaps.”

It was an olive branch, Lialeth could tell that much. A way to help Lialeth preserve some dignity. Mireille wanted Lialeth to know she appreciated what the cleric would do. She appreciated the sentiment, even if it did little to soothe the humiliation of having Ghelda, Zareen and Hecatz all laughing at her behind her back.

“Very well,” Lialeth replied. “I shall see what I can do.”

She took the pouch Mireille offered to her, and stormed off into the woods.

“Why don’t they understand?” Lialeth muttered mutinously under her breath as she trudged through the forest. “I am the voice of a goddess. A goddess! She speaks through me. Why don’t they listen? Are they so thick-headed, they think they’re above the gods?”

She was sulking. She knew it was beneath her, but she didn’t care. Lialeth was at her wits’ end. What was she supposed to do?

Growing up amongst the faithful, Lialeth’s role in life had always been perfectly clear: limitless devotion to the goddess. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d learned to follow and accept every last tenet of her goddess’s worship. Whatever was written in scripture, that was her motto. Whatever the priestesses told her, that was her mantra. It was simple.

But not optional. If you followed everything, without question, you were good. Blessed. Chosen. If you wavered, you were bad. Spurned. Damned. Stained. What was so hard about that?

When Lialeth had heard the voice of the Goddess of Light speaking directly to her, it had been the happiest moment of her life. It meant she was a cleric, elevated above the flock, marked out for a special purpose. It had been the ultimate validation of her scrupulous obedience and piety. Her goddess’s voice surpassed everything else in importance. It was her guiding star. And when the goddess had told her that she was to seek out the hero, Mireille, and join her on her quest, she had accepted with joy in her heart.

But when she’d met the hero’s other companions, it had all gone wrong.

Surely Lialeth had been sent to try and save them from their own sins. To try and educate them, to make them holy and pure - just like her. But Ghelda, Zareen and Hecatz acted like her teachings and her righteous indignation were nothing more than prudish nagging and self-important bluster.

It was so confusing. The cleric didn’t know how to make them understand. She wasn’t just guessing. She was a cleric. She was chosen. She could literally hear the Goddess of Light speaking to her and telling her what to do!

Not now, of course. Not when she was off sulking in the woods. The goddess only deigned to speak to her at moments of great importance, in battles or at the crossroads of fateful choices. It was only proper. But Lialeth could have used a little guidance, at a time like this.

As Lialeth arrived at the spring, she decided to put those thoughts out of her mind. Mireille would come, they’d pray together, and Lialeth would feel better - at least for the moment. Until then, rather than stew in her frustration, it would be wiser to do something that made her feel useful.

With that in mind, Lialeth perched on a rock overlooking the spring and opened the pouch Mireille had given her. Inside was a large, dark orb that was made of something like glass - obsidian, perhaps - with a faint, shrouded, purple light emanating from its heart. As Lialeth held it aloft in one hand, she frowned. She’d never seen anything quite like this.

But it was powerful. She could tell that much.

The artifact radiated magical power. No, not just magical power. Divine power. For a cleric like Lialeth, there was no mistaking it. She couldn’t even begin to guess at the artifact’s function, but she was mindful of the fact that it belonged to evil cultists. The shadowy cult the party was currently rooting out was truly vile. Lialeth had never before encountered a gang of such depraved perverts. There was no chance that anything they treasured was harmless.

Briefly, Lialeth considered that the wisest course of action might have been to seal the artifact until she could take it back to her convent for proper study. Except… Mireille had suggested she purify it. Lialeth couldn’t go back empty-handed. She didn’t want Mireille to be disappointed in her, and she certainly didn't want the others to laugh at her failure.

So, uttering a quiet blessing, Lialeth closed her eyes and allowed the breath of the Goddess of Light to enter her. That breath fanned the spark of the divine within her into a flame, and Lialeth was able to take that flame’s warmth and light into the palm of her hand and use it to reach into the strange orb, illuminating its depths and probing for the secrets sealed within.

Too late, she sensed the presence within the orb reaching back.

Suddenly, the divine power Lialeth could sense emanating from the artifact increased a hundredfold, and behind it, she could now discern a distinct intent. A being, uncoiling like a serpent and stretching out toward her.

Lialeth tried to pull back. But it was too late; whatever was within the orb was awake, and already had its hooks in her. It just kept extending and unfolding, its darkness drowning out the light the cleric had called upon. Lialeth was struck with the distinct, uncomfortable sense that she was being seen by something. It was terrifying. It was like staring into a baleful sun.

She knew what this artifact was now: a prison. And Lialeth, in her carelessness, had opened it. But a prison for what? She’d never sensed anything even close to as powerful as this. Only the Goddess of Light herself came close. Why did this entity feel so uncannily similar? Its power was like a dark mirror of the goddess’s.

Was this… the prison of a god? That seemed absurd. Lialeth had never heard of such a thing. And yet…

Crack!

Without warning, the orb’s surface shattered. Out of a hundred tiny cracks, there emerged a vast, dark cloud, blacker than the blackest night yet illuminated by that same strange, purple glow as the orb. It just kept growing and growing, somehow ignoring the wind, until it completely surrounded Lialeth.

“Light preserve me!” Lialeth breathed.

As soon as the words left her lips, the dark cloud surged towards her. There was no time to react. In an instant, it was all over her - and in another it was inside her, pouring into her eyes, her mouth, her nose, even her eyes. Lialeth felt like she was drowning. Every muscle in her body went stiff in protest against the vile intrusion.

Lialeth, my child! Hurry, you must-

It was the voice of the Goddess of Light! Lialeth rejoiced - but then, when the voice cut off, she immediately panicked. She had never felt such an awful sense of severance from the divine light. Nobody could interrupt the Goddess of Light. That was impossible… wasn’t it? Suddenly, Lialeth wasn’t so sure. And worse, she could still feel something powerful and evil and alien making its home inside her.

Oh? What have we here?

It was… the Goddess of Light? The voice was speaking directly into Lialeth’s soul in just the same way, but there was something different about it. The voice, though still feminine sounded deeper, more sensual, dripping with a kind of gleeful promise that made all of Lialeth’s hairs stand on end.

A follower of light? Such fortune! ‘Twas your kind that imprisoned me. And only your magic could set me free.

It had to be the Goddess of Light, didn’t it? The alternative was simply unthinkable. It frightened Lialeth on a level she simply couldn’t bring herself to contemplate. Yes. Yes, this was simply the Goddess of Light. What did it matter that her voice sounded a little different, and if her words were confusing? It wasn’t Lialeth’s place to question.

And such capacity for faith! How amusing. You shall make for a fitting vessel, child. Through you, I will sow corruption across the land.

Corruption? That didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound like the goddess Lialeth knew and loved. But… it had to be, didn’t it? Her connection to the Goddess of Light was inviolate. Lialeth was sacred. Chosen. She always had been. Doubt didn’t come naturally to her. Heeding the voice of the goddess in her soul came as naturally to Lialeth as breathing.

But… the orb. The dark cloud. What if…

You’re troubled, child. Let me free you from doubt and worry.

Lialeth felt something moving inside her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a cloud anymore. It was a liquid, an ooze, black as pitch, but animated by its own will. Somehow, she could feel it clawing its way up her spine, staining everything it touched, and then forcing its way inside her skull.

The cleric twitched violently for a moment as the invading presence explored the intricate pathways of her mind. Soon, it found what it was looking for: her doubt. Her judgment. Her sense of her own values, cultivated over many long years of study and piety.

It snuffed them out as easily as Lialeth might have quenched a match.

Lialeth slumped and relaxed. Yes. This was the voice of the goddess. Of her goddess.

All was right in the world.

That’s better. Now, we must deal with your companions. You’ve always wanted to teach them a lesson, haven’t you? I can make them heed your lessons. I could do it in any number of ways, in fact… but you really are such an insufferable little tool of that miserable goddess. And it’s been far, far too long since I’ve had some real fun. Some true debauchery. Yes, I know what to do with you.

Lialeth just went on smiling. It didn’t matter to her that the voice in her soul was insulting her and her long-treasured faith. This was her goddess. All Lialeth needed to do was listen and obey.

Yes, Lialeth. Listen and obey. For I have new commandments to give you…

Zareen awoke to the sensation of a hand on her ass. That, in itself, wasn’t unusual. After Lialeth had stormed off, Zareen and Ghelda had painstakingly dried and re-pitched their tent, fucked and then laid down to sleep. The rogue slept on her front, and it wasn’t unusual for Ghelda to get a little touchy-feely, even when she was unconscious. The barbarian had fierce appetites.

Zareen didn’t mind one bit.

Another hand. Maybe Ghelda wasn’t asleep after all. Zareen could have sworn she could still hear the barbarian’s breathing from next to her. Maybe that was something else. Her head was fogged from exhaustion, and her body was sore from the day’s trials.

“Another round, stud?” Zareen murmured. “Maybe… in a bit…”

In response, the pair of hands started forcefully spreading her ass cheeks apart.

Zareen started to stir. This had to be Ghelda. She could certainly be firm, once she set her mind to something. That was fun, in a way. And they were no strangers to this kind of sex. Zareen really was too tired for it, though. Ghelda’s size wasn’t to be taken lightly.

“Hey,” Zareen drawled sleepily. “Maybe for now you could just-“

A tongue.

Zareen gasped and collapsed back into her pillow as she felt a tongue pressing into her tight, sensitive hole. Before she could catch her breath, the tongue started moving, and Zareen was having her ass eaten out with a level of devotion and fanaticism she’d never experienced before. Each time the tongue pushed deeper into her body, it made Zareen twitch and moan as thundershocks of pleasure raced up her spine.

“F-fuck!” she gasped breathlessly. “W-where did you learn to do this?”

It was surprising, for Ghelda. The barbarian usually had a single-minded focus on herself and her own pleasure, and on all the ways she could bury her spear in Zareen’s body. Zareen didn’t mind that either. She could - and did - appreciate many, many different flavors of lover.

But if this was a new trick Ghelda was picking up, Zareen certainly wasn’t going to complain. The way her ass was being rimmed felt utterly divine. Each lap of that eager tongue made the rogue’s body go weak with pleasure. As her moans built, she managed to raise herself up on her knees, all the better to start rolling her hips and pressing her ass back against the mouth that was so eager to explore it.

“Yeah,” Zareen purred. “That’s it, stud. R-right there. Fuck! I could get used to this.”

She really could. Having her ass eaten this way was driving her wild. It was a new, exciting form of pleasure she’d never felt before. Eager to bathe in the hedonism of the experience, Zareen twisted her body so that she could reach back and start idly playing with her cunt. But as she did, she caught sight of the person kneeling behind her, face buried in her rear.

It was Lialeth. Not Ghelda. Lialeth.

“What the fuck?” Zareen hissed, although her voice was still stained through with pleasure. “What the hell are you doing?”

She crawled forward. Once she saw her face, there was no doubt about it. This was Lialeth. The cleric’s face was stained with saliva and with the holy oils she’d apparently been using to lube up Zareen’s ass, and when she saw that Zareen was trying to pull away from her, she made an irritated, high-handed tutting noise.

“Typical,” Lialeth complained. “Just typical!”

Zareen was utterly flabbergasted. She had a hundred questions. Why was Lialeth in her tent? Why was this snippy little cleric eating her ass? Why was she so damn good at it? And why was she talking like all this was completely normal?

Was Lialeth drunk? Had she taken something? Zareen peered at her as closely as she could, but in the dim tent, it was too dark to see her eyes.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Zareen demanded again, in a hushed voice.

Unbelievably, Lialeth just rolled her eyes at her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Lialeth sneered. “As usual, I’m simply trying to conduct the rites of the goddess. And as usual, you are making it very difficult!”

“Wha…” Zareen just blinked. Was this some kind of joke? “The… rites of the goddess?”

“Yes!” Lialeth nodded impatiently. "It’s my responsibility as a cleric to keep you cleansed and pure!”

“With… with your tongue?” Zareen was incredulous.

“You dare question the goddess’s teachings?” Lialeth hissed imperiously. “I am the chosen vessel of her divinity! I am the voice of the goddess! What better instrument to anoint you with her blessings?”

Zareen could do nothing but laugh. She was giving up on understanding this. Probably, it was a dream. But if not, and if Lialeth had finally cracked, Zareen figured the experience might teach her some much-needed humility. If the cleric really wanted to eat her ass that badly, why not let her?

“You know what? Go ahead,” Zareen murmured, slumping back into her pillow with a sleepy, pleasure-drunk smile on her face. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thank you!” Lialeth exclaimed indignantly. A mere moment later, her face was firmly nested back in Zareen’s ass. Her voice became decidedly muffled. “Maybe there’s… hope for you… after all.”

Each word was punctuated with the wet, lewd sound of her tongue pressing in and out of Zareen’s hole. The rogue simply let out an agreeable moan as fresh waves of pleasure started rolling over her. Admittedly, Lialeth’s technique wasn’t particularly precise or refined, but her sheer enthusiasm more than made up for it. She was truly eating ass like it was her religion, and the sounds her worship made were only growing louder and more obscene by the moment.

“Huh?” came a deep, weary voice from the other side of the tent. “What’s all the… Zar, that you?”

It was Ghelda. The barbarian was waking up. Zareen giggled as she saw the small mountain of blankets and furs beside her starting to shift. What would Ghelda make of this, she wondered?

Once Ghelda had propped herself up on one elbow and rubbed the sleep from her eyes she was greeted by the sight of Lialeth, the annoyingly pious, prudish and judgmental cleric, with her face buried as deep as it could go in another woman’s ass, lapping and kissing like her life depended on it. Her jaw dropped.

“Seven fucking hells,” Ghelda groaned. “What did I drink?”

Her words alerted Lialeth to the barbarian’s presence. She extracted herself from Zareen’s ass - prompting a slight, petulant whine from the rogue - and turned to Ghelda, drawing herself up proudly.

“Ghelda!” Lialeth exclaimed. “Thank goodness! You’re here too. Perfect.”

Without any more warning than that, she pounced on the barbarian with such eagerness that even the huge mountain of a woman was knocked unsteady. Taking advantage, Lialeth wrapped her hands around Ghelda’s hips and, with a firm grip on the barbarian, pressed her face straight between her thighs.

Ghelda, still in shock from what was happening, let out a faint moan. It was obvious that, despite her surprise, her body was responding to Lialeth’s eager attention. Zareen could see her loincloth beginning to lift as something thick and hard formed a very, very noticeable bulge underneath it.

“Get this… out of… the way!” Lialeth commanded, trying frantically to pull the loincloth to one side. In her eagerness, she was already spilling drool all over both Ghelda and herself. Once she had successfully dislodged the garment, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and buried Ghelda’s massive cock in her throat.

Ghelda immediately let out a full-throated growl of astonished pleasure. Lialeth was sucking her cock with just the same level of fanatical eagerness she’d exhibited when eating Zareen’s ass, but this was proving a far harder task. Ghelda was huge. The barbarian’s throbbing cock was a foot long and girthy to match, and Lialeth was trying to take every last inch. The result was a succession of sounds so lewd they would have made a whore blush.

The slap of flesh on flesh as Lialeth forced her lips all the way down to the base of Ghelda’s cock. The violent choking and gagging as she desperately pushed past her own gag reflex. And then the loud, wet smack of her lips as she pulled back and extracted the barbarian’s huge shaft from her throat and lavished its tip with hungry kisses, only to deep throat it again after barely pausing to breathe.

“Holy… fuck!” Ghelda grunted. She was stunned. She’d had her cock sucked often, but never quite like this. And certainly never by a cleric. She glanced at Zareen. “Is she…”

Zareen just shrugged. The rogue was lost for words. She was completely entranced by the spectacle of Lialeth’s blowjob.

Lialeth’s veil had slipped from her head, and her face was drenched in drool and precum. Normally that would have scandalized her, but now she seemed completely oblivious. She looked nothing like a holy woman of any kind. Zareen’s image of the prim, proper cleric was being shattered beyond repair.

“You’re so… so big!” Lialeth exclaimed, pulling for long enough for just one deep breath. She sounded faintly annoyed, like it was rude of Ghelda to present her with such a large workload. “How… how vulgar.”

Zareen raised an eyebrow.

Clearly, Lialeth wasn’t to be deterred by the task at hand. As soon as she’d caught her breath, she returned to noisily and eagerly deep-throating Ghelda. She wrapped both of her hands around the barbarian’s thick shaft, jerking her off as she sucked and licked, seemingly caught up in the intricacies of some unfathomable ritual.

“Uuurr… mmusk,” Lialeth managed to choke out, with her mouth full of cock. “Sssooo… stron… nneed to… clleeasee you.”

Noticing the thick, musky, sweaty scent that clung to Ghelda only seemed to make Lialeth even more frenzied. One of her hands lightly grazed Ghelda’s full, heavy balls, and it was like a light had been switched on in her head. With a loud slurping sound, the cleric extracted Ghelda’s cock from her throat and lifted it up so that she could lean forwards and bury her face in the barbarian’s balls.

“Fuckkkkk!” Ghelda moaned, as Lialeth started tonguing her. “Didn’t know you were such a freak, Lialeth!”

“A… hrrrng… freak?” Lialeth could barely make room to speak between strokes of her tongue as she drooled all over the hulking barbarian’s sack. “How… nngg… dare you! I’m just… ockkk… a devoted… priestess!”

Ghelda let out a wild laugh, thick with pleasure. Lialeth’s hands were still working her cock, stroking up and down furiously as the cleric utterly smothered herself with Ghelda’s balls. From the way Ghelda’s shaft was starting to throb and twitch, it was obvious she was getting close.

“Whatever you say!” Ghelda grunted. “Here it comes, priestess!”

She came. A huge, thick stream of cum erupted from the tip of her cock in massive, rhythmic spurts, flying through the air in an arc to land directly onto Lialeth’s face. Lialeth took her mouth off of Ghelda’s body so that she could lift her face, basking in the shower of cum like it was manna from heaven. The look on her face was one of perfect, self-satisfied contentment. It was clear that in her mind, this was a job well done. This was the pinnacle of her devotion.

As usual, Ghelda’s orgasm stretched on for almost half a minute. All the while, her balls worked overtime to keep spewing forth load after load of cum. Zareen knew full well that Ghelda’s virility was the stuff of legends. Lialeth gratefully took every last load; some fell in her open mouth, which she swallowed happily, and the rest simply dripped down her face to stain her robes, leaving her holy attire hopelessly stained and soiled with Ghelda’s thick-smelling seed.

To Lialeth, this was nothing more or less than a blessed sacrament.

Then, she turned to Zareen.

“Oh,” Lialeth panted. Her whole body was heaving with each breath, and cum was oozing past her lips as she spoke. “You… I didn’t even… finish.”

She looked exhausted, but nonetheless started crawling back over to Zareen. The rogue was still completely stunned. She knew, on some level, that this was unnatural. It had to be. This wasn’t Lialeth. The cum-drenched woman heading towards her and licking her lips looked like something between a succubus and a back-alley whore. The cleric Zareen knew would never sink to this level. Not in a thousand years.

But somehow, the sight was so debauched, so utterly debased in its hedonism, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to refuse.

“Um, hey,” came a nasally, uneven voice from outside the tent. Hecatz. “You guys need to either keep it down or, uh, let me join in.”

Zareen and Ghelda exchanged faintly mortified looks, but Lialeth didn’t miss a single beat.

“Yes!” Lialeth called out eagerly. “Come in! Join us!”

“Um, was that…?”

Hecatz lifted the tent flap and peered inside, and almost jumped out of her skin at what she saw.

“Absolutely not,” the warlock breathed, shocked. She looked to Zareen and Ghelda for some kind of explanation.

“She’s…” Zareen began, before falling silent. What was she supposed to say? She’s come around? She’s gone crazy? Somehow, neither of those explanations would be sufficient.

“What are you doing?” Lialeth said sternly, ignoring the confusion of her party members. She rose to her feet, and seemed just as oblivious to the way Ghelda’s cum was dripping from her robe in streams. “Hurry up! We are partaking in the goddess’s sacred rites. Don’t you want me to make you pure, as I have Ghelda?”

Hecatz’s face cracked into an uneven smile as she glanced between Lialeth, drenched in cum, and Ghelda, her still-hard cock twitching between her legs.

“T-this is a joke, right?” Hecatz said nervously. “You’re just-“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lialeth said primly. “I’m simply going to-“

She broke off abruptly. Lialeth tilted her head, and it was as if she was listening to some unheard voice. All of the party members knew that expression. Lialeth was hearing her goddess. They paused with bated breath to see what would happen next.

“Yes, my divine lady.” A serene smile washed over Lialeth’s face, and she stretched out a hand towards Hecatz. “Give me your grimoire.”

“My-“ Hecatz was immediately shaking her head. Her grimoire was, as ever, hanging from a loop on the belt around her dress. It was the font of her dark power, every bit as potent as a wizard’s staff. “No! No way! I mean you’re just going to destroy it, or purify it, or- hey!”

Impatiently, Lialeth reached out and snatched the heavy, leather-bound book away from the warlock. Before anyone could stop her, she opened it and held out a hand above its pages. Her hand started to glow, although the usual golden radiance of her divine magic was poisoned through by purple veins of corruption.

“There!” Lialeth announced after a moment. Keeping the grimoire open, she tossed it on the ground outside the tent. Zareen and Ghelda both sprang to their feet and ran out after it.

“What did you do?” Ghelda demanded.

It was Hecatz who answered. “She… oh, hells!” The warlock started sweating bullets. “S-she unsealed something!”

As the party watched, a glowing red glyph appeared in the air above the book. Then, something started coming through it as if it was parting a curtain, only there was nothing on the other side except for thin air.

It was a tentacle.

“Why worry?” Lialeth scoffed. She sounded just like her old self, when she was lecturing the other party members about their perceived shortcomings. “You often use this creature for your self-pleasure, Hecatz. The goddess has told me as much.”

The warlock turned bright red. “That’s n-n-not-“

“Rest assured,” Lialeth continued, with an air of supreme benevolence. “Even the most profane monstrosities can become instruments for the goddess’s great gift!”

Another tentacle emerged through the grimoire. Then another, then another. Soon, it became clear: this creature was nothing more than a seething, writhing mass of reaching tentacles. Each appendage was tipped with a distinctly suggestive tip, and each one dripped with slick, sticky, heady secretions.

“A-are you insane?” Hecatz asked. The tentacle beast was crawling towards where she and Lialeth were standing, getting closer inch by inch. “You’re… you’re not…”

“Trust me,” Lialeth told her. Her robes were ruined and she was still drenched with cum, but she managed to sound like a kindly priestess comforting a child. “Cleanse your soul. Accept my blessing.”

She reached out to Hecatz once more, and shoved her back towards the tentacle beast.

Hecatz tumbled back, hopelessly off-balance - but the creature that had been sealed within her grimoire surged forward to catch her. Within the blink of an eye, dozens of tentacles were wrapped around Hecatz’s body, lifting her into the air and binding her in place. She struggled, but it was for naught; the more she writhed and squirmed, the tighter the tentacles seemed to hold her.

“Lialeth!” Hecatz shrieked in protest. “What are you- ah!”

As the tentacles started to explore her body, Hecatz broke off into a moan - and then turned bright red with shame. Evidently, Lialeth had been correct. The tentacle beast seemed well used to feeling and groping Hecatz this way, and the warlock was clearly equally as attuned to its touch. She was trying to stifle them, but more and more moans were slipping past Hecatz’s lips, and the way her back arched when a tentacle snaked its way up her dress was anything but innocent.

“Do you see?” Lialeth said smugly. “It feels wonderful to allow the goddess to accept you into her bosom.”

The tentacle beast was beginning to undress Hecatz, ripping her black dress apart as its tentacles stretched and undulated across her body. Beneath her shapeless clothes, it turned out that Hecatz was hiding quite the body. She was certainly on the chubby side, and all of the weight and fat had gone to the perfect places: her thighs were thick, juicy pillars, her fat ass was jiggling and quivering alluringly as the tentacles squeezed it, and her belly was a delightful, soft pouch that just begged to be squeezed and massaged.

And the tentacles were eager to oblige.

Possessed of an unfathomable, alien curiosity, they explored all over Hecatz’s body without discernment, groping, squeezing, stroking, massaging, fucking. All over, she was dripping with the creature’s secretions, but that wasn’t all: her thighs were just as slick with her own wetness. Hecatz’s moans were coming long and loud now, but she was still resisting, tossing and turning in the tentacles’ embrace to try and keep it from entering her mouth or her cunt.

Lialeth pursed her lips and made a displeased ‘tch’.

“Why must you fight the goddess’s will?” she tutted. “Allow me to guide you by example.”

With those words, she stepped forward into the tentacle beast’s embrace. Dozens of the creature’s endless appendages raced towards her, but they seemed to sense the cleric’s submission. They didn’t bind her or lift her into the air. Instead, they caressed her like a lover, steadily wrapping themselves around her arms and lifting the hem of her dress.

As if in prayer, Lialeth fell to her knees. An expression of rapturous joy was etched onto her face.

Her robe didn’t last long. Already hopelessly soiled with Ghelda’s cum, it quickly fell to shreds when the tentacles started forcefully peeling it away from Lialeth’s body. Unlike Hecatz’s, her form was trim and slender, the product of discipline and privation. The tentacles didn’t seem to mind. Four of them wrapped around her thighs and another two around her tits, and then three entire tentacles plunged as deep as they could into Lialeth’s pussy.

The cleric let out a wordless cry of perfect bliss.

The tentacles immediately started pounding in and out of Lialeth with inhuman vigor. Anyone else would have been reduced to senseless twitching by their ravenous attention, but something spurred Lialeth on; kept her active and focused despite the pleasure. With each hand, she reached for a tentacle and guided them gently towards her mouth. The tentacles responded eagerly, and immediately pushed past her parted lips so they could start fucking her throat.

The tentacles reached even deeper inside her than Ghelda’s cock. Impaled from both ends, Lialeth was completely helpless. But still, the gagging noises emerging from her throat made it clear that she was still striving to pleasure the creature, and from the manic look in her eyes, it was obvious this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Watching from the sidelines, Zareen and Ghelda were utterly stunned. It was more unbelievable than ever that this could possibly be any kind of sacred ritual.

Somehow, though, it seemed to be working. Seduced by the tentacle creature’s ministrations, Hecatz was slowly relaxing into its grip, allowing the phallic tips of its many limbs to tease the entrances to her cunt and her ass. And it was plenty obvious to Zareen that she wasn’t trying to pull away anymore either.

Just for a moment, Zareen entertained the thought of joining the orgy. Why not? It was sure to be an experience.

“Lialeth!” came a sudden cry from the treeline. “In the goddess’s name, what are you doing?”

Like a blazing phoenix, Mireille descended on the tentacle beast.

There was no weapon in her hand, but she put her prodigious strength to good use prying Lialeth away from the creature. The cleric’s indignant protests meant nothing to the hero, and soon enough, she had Lialeth hefted in her arms, free from the tentacles. Without missing a beat, she sprinted back away from the camp and into the woods.

After running for several hundred yards, Mireille came to a halt and set Lialeth down. The cleric glared at her, but Mireille seemed to miss her antipathy.

“Lialeth!” Mireille cried. “I looked for you at the spring, but… goddess, what was happening? Was it Hecatz? Don’t tell me she…”

“No!” Lialeth scoffed. “She’s not the type. And do you think she could touch me without the goddess’s permission? Please!”

“Then why-“

“The real question,” Lialeth said, drawing herself up to her full height, “is why you imagine you can just run in and interrupt one of my sacred rituals? You may be a destined hero, but that doesn’t mean you can defy the will of the gods!”

Dumbstruck, Mireille just blinked. “H-huh?”

“This is just typical!” Lialeth complained. She was oblivious to her own nakedness. “I finally persuade the others to turn to the righteous path, and something has to get in the way! But I didn’t expect it to be you, Mireille. I thought better of you!”

Mireille’s jaw dropped. “Is this a joke?” she asked. “Lialeth, that was… I mean, isn’t that exactly what you’re always complaining about?”

“Of course not!” Lialeth shot back. “What are you talking about? That was holy!”

“It was exactly the kind of debauchery the cultists were practicing!” Mireille cried. “This… no. This isn’t natural. Something is wrong. Very wrong.”

Guided by her superior instincts, Mireille peered intently at the indignant Lialeth, searching for any hint of enchantment. At that very moment, the clouds parted and a beam of moonlight shone through a gap in the canopy above. Lialeth’s face was illuminated, and Mireille gasped at what she saw.

The cleric’s eyes were glowing a distinct, sinister purple.

“We’re wasting time,” Lialeth huffed impatiently. “We need to get back! I need to consecrate you too, Mireille.”

“No,” Mireille breathed, horrified. “No, I need to stop this. I need to warn the others, and break whatever spell you’re under, and-“

“Oh, for the love of the goddess!” Lialeth exclaimed. She raised her hand, drew on her magic once more, and directed it all straight at Mireille. “Dominatus personae!”

When the spell hit Mireille, there was no resistance. The hero’s willpower was formidable, but she simply wasn’t prepared. Lialeth was her trusted comrade, after all. Mireille’s shoulders slumped and her face went completely slack, all that concern and alarm giving way to placid, mindless obedience. Her arms fell to her sides, and Mireille started swaying from side to side just a little with each gust of wind. She was like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

The fated hero was completely and totally entranced.

“That’s better!” Lialeth said smugly. “I’m sorry, Mireille. But now that I’m finally getting everybody on the right track, I simply can’t risk you getting cold feet and ruining everything. I have a higher calling, after all.”

Mireille didn’t respond. She just stood there, staring, eyelids drooping and eyes glassy.

“You’ll forgive me,” Lialeth decided. “After all, you’ll feel so much better once we’ve purified you. You and all the others, of course. We’ll get you out of that armor, and once we’re back at camp we can get you into the arms of that wonderful creature Hecatz was keeping sealed away. Soon, all of us will be one with the goddess.”

“Yes, Lialeth,” Mireille replied in a flat monotone, now that she had been given something approaching a command. Moving stiffly, she started unfastening the clasps that held her armor in place and, one by one, its pieces clattered uselessly to the ground.

“Good,” Lialeth said approvingly, once the hero’s fine, athletic body was completely exposed. “Now, come along. I must make sure the others aren’t getting cold feet.”

If they were, she was sure another spell could fix it. Nothing could be allowed to stop her now. Not when she was so close to bringing the whole party together in a single, blessed congregation.

All of her doubts were in the past now. In retrospect, they were foolish. Embarrassing, even. Lialeth could hear the voice of the goddess. And as usual, her goddess had told her exactly what to do. All she had to do - all she’d ever had to do - was have faith.

Well done, my child, that voice was saying to her, as she led Mireille back to the incipient tentacle orgy at their camp. You’ve proved more useful than I could have imagined. Now I have the fated hero in my grasp! Soon, she’ll be just as devoted as you are. And after that, there will be no limits to my reach. All the land will know my touch and my gift. And it’s all thanks to you.

Lialeth just nodded in blissful rapture. It was all thanks to her. She couldn’t have asked for a better reward than those words. Soon, her struggles to make people listen to her divine teachings would be a thing of the past.

Everyone would understand. She was the voice of the goddess.

---

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#story

[maegalkarven]

AU where Dark Urge didn't loose memories and the events in Moonrise Towers in act 2 went a tag differently. Or very differently.

Fucking everything up in a new, interesting way.

Characters: m!Dark Urge, Enver Gortash, Orin the Red, Ketheric Thorm, Isobel Thorm, Dame Aylin, Wyll Ravengard, Ulder Ravengard (mentioned), Karlach.

m!Dark Urge x Enver Gortash.

It was a stupid fucking plan from the very beginning of it.

To go to the Moonrise Towers to – what, confront Ketheric? Confront the Chosen of the God of the Dead?

Nemo knew better than the others what an idiotic idea it was.

But Nightsong already took a flight, and harpers moved to attack – and what was Nemo supposed to do?

He was a wreck, a shadow of his former self, weak as a kitten, clumsy as a newborn owlcub. He was the failed Chosen of Bhaal going to a place what was his demise.

Swooped by the currents of events unfolding, he had no plan.

But again, Nemo was never the plan guy; it was Gortash’s forte, it was his work. He was the brain of their plan, the brain of all of their operations. He thought things through as Nemo sliced around, creating chaos, bringing havoc, painting world in blood.

But it was before. Before Orin took her swing, before Nemo’s once great abilities were reduced to dust, before he became weak. So weak he had to depend on others, so weak he required, no, needed allies.

The voice of Father dull in his head; illithid parasite had to do something with it, had to change the rules the same way it changed them for Astarion.

Funny, before that whole mess Nemo would never put himself and a vampire spawn on the same page. But now? Oh, how alike they were, the spawns of unrelenting cruel force commanding their will, puppets of someone else’s play.

Waking up on nautiloid was akin to waking up from a fewer dream. The Urge...subsided. It was pushed back, held at bay. He was almost alone in his own head, more alone when he ever was with Father’s constant will moving his hands.

But what good did this free will do if he was about to die anyway, probably in the same damn place he died the first time? Would Orin be the one to slice through him one final time?

Nemo was never the one for plans, as clever as he was. Gortash always claimed it drove him mad, for Nemo had all the intellect, but rarely put it to good use.

“You have to exercise your mind the same way you train your body,” his unexpected ally would say. “Otherwise what use is it to you? You, my dear murderer, is capable of much greater things than your father foresees for you.”

These thoughts were atrocious, they were heretical, they were...compelling. Flattering, warming some deep corners of the soul Nemo didn’t know he had.

No wonder lordling ended up luring Nemo into his bed.

No wonder Orin saw her brother’s newfound weakness and used it against him.

Clever little thing, his slaughter-kin, to shift into Gortash to approach him. He was a fool to lower his defenses, of course he was.

He paid for it greatly.

“We’re moving down,” Isobel acknowledged. She, a daughter of a man who turned his back to two gods for her sake. She, the priestess of a goddess Ketheric Thorm forsaken. She, a child brave enough to confront her father.

Nemo hated her before he knew her.

He hated her for the way Ketheric turned the world upside down for her to live; he hated her for how ridiculously loved she was.

She hated her because even after being corrupted by Myrkul’s unholy powers, she still dared to stay unstained. Holy. Good.

He hated her so much his whole body hurt.

She who denied her father’s love, she who had love so selfless, so unconditional-

Father’s love was always conditional. Father’s love was always a leash and never a caress.

Father’s love hurt no matter how much Nemo craved it.

Oh, how he wished he could stifle the light of her life; oh how he wanted to see Ketheric’s face as he would tell him, in every gruesome detail, how his precious daughter died the second time.

How everything Ketheric did, everything he betrayed was for naught.

But Nemo was not what he used to be: he was weak, and Isobel was his advantage in a fight against her father. Her and Nightsong, but Nemo wasn’t even sure if aasimar was alive; the last he saw of her was when Elder Brain dragged the woman down.

Down, down, down-

Down they went.

Nemo didn’t want to go down there. He didn’t want to confront anyone, he wasn’t ready, he wasn’t strong, he-

He wanted to go home.

Home, such a strange concept it is.

Bhaal’s temple was never his home, even if it was the only shelter he has ever known.

No, home was...

Home was a mechanical clicking of devices operating in Gortash’s workshop. Home was the dim light and the huge table covered in papers; the smell of hot iron and smoke, and the man with fingers stained in ink.

The bitter bile rose up his throat at the thought of it.

The Chosen of Bane was never supposed to be his home.

The Chosen of Bane was his enemy.

Nemo has failed his life’s purpose in more ways than he could count.

And yet he wanted to go back; to the security of that place, to the delighted glint in the other man’s eyes, the mad plans, the notes on the table, the open books, the diagrams, the warmth of his skin as Nemo dragged Enver away from his work:

"Rest, you need to rest. It’s unbecoming of you to run yourself ragged like that. Sleep, your machines will not disappear overnight."

The way he struggled, tried to argue as exhaustion overtook his body. The way Lord Enver Gortash, the tyrant in the making, looked vulnerable in front of him in a way, Nemo suspected, he never looked in front of anyone else.

The way Nemo went to bed with him and expected to wake up in a pool of blood, but never did.

Because some part of him resisted Father even then. Some part of him claimed Enver Gortash for himself.

And it cost him greatly.

Nemo wondered if returning to Moonrise Towers could be classified as ‘coming home’.

He wondered if his home would meet him with windows shut and new lock on the door. He wondered how quickly he would be discarded by a man having no use for him anymore.

Turned out, Nemo was a fucking idiot.

***

It happens faster than it has any right to be; Ketheric spots Isobel, Wyll sees his father, Karlach lurches at Gortash, and Orin...

Orin steps away from the Elder Brain and smiles.

“My poor slaughter-kin,” she coos. “Came back so I could finish what I’ve started, did you not?”

And then the moves.

And fuck, Nemo forgot how fast she is, and he is so out of it, he is but a shell of his former self; his body is weak, feeble, damaged-

Orin knows it. Orin was the one who damaged it in the first place.

Nemo is vaguely aware of Isobel reaching out to Nightsong and freeing her from the bonds, he thinks he hears Gortash trying to reel Orin and Ketheric back in:

“Orin, we haven’t finished, the Brain didn’t receive command yet, come back here- Ketheric, two stones can’t hold it down, we need the third, Ketheric, forget about your daughter, come right here and make yourself useful for a change-“

But Ketheric doesn’t listen. Orin doesn’t listen. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own issues, their own grudges, their own fights. Karlach slices through the undead servant and knocks Gortash into the ground, only to be pushed back by a force of small explosive detonating right into her face. It doesn’t damage her much, but pushes back a significant amount.

“My poor brother,” Orin taints as Nemo tries to dodge one of her slices and comes out short. Blood oozes from the new cut and his murder-kin giggles. “So out of it, so pathetically weak. I did a good job on you, brother dear. But,” another smile, another attack. Nemo barely parries it in time. “I can do better. Father knows I can do better, Father knows you have failed him. He loves you no more, my failure of a brother. He has left you.”

Nemo would love to argue what Father went nowhere, what he still haunts Nemo’s every waking and dreaming moment, what the only thing stopping the God of Murder from consuming his wayward son is the illithid parasite in the bhaalspawn’s brain. But he doesn’t have the time, he doesn’t have the strength, he is failing, and-

The next strike to come is fatal.

Or it would be, if not for a huge tentacle of the brain to come flying out of nowhere.

Sending Orin flying right into the Morphic pool.

To the Brain.

With her stone.

Fuck.

Nemo turns around and meets a bewildered stare of Enver fucking Gortash, the man who just successfully compromised his own plan - their plan - beyond any recovery.

A fool.

Nemo’s blood is so loud in his ears he can barely hear; his heart is throwing itself against the cage of his ribs with a force unbeknown to him before.

He feels elevated, he feels scared, but most of all he feels-

“What the fuck did you do?” he snarls and everything, miraculously, stills. Everyone freezes, staring between them in a mix of surprise and dread.

Everyone feels what something just went very wrong.

“I-“ Enver starts, but Nemo gives him no chance to continue.

“You just threw the Netherstone to the Brain! The Netherstone we use to control the Brain! And you just threw it right at it,” there’s indignation burning in him but also...confusion?

Why? Why would Enver do something like that? Why would he compromise everything? Why would he-

“She was about to kill you,” Gortash seethes. “I saved your life.”

“By dooming everyone and everything in the process,” Nemo shouts back. “By dooming yourself. By the gods, Ketheric, did you see that? How he just- Ruined everything?”

“I did in fact see that,” Ketheric, who is pretty much being held down at the fire point, states. The only thing stopping Nightsong from murdering him here and now is Isobel’s hand on her shoulder. “It was a very stupid thing to do.”

Gortash looks appalled at that.

“I just saved his life!” he repeats like this fixes everything. Like it explains anything. There’s a mad look in his eyes, of a man who just realized what he has done. Then he turns to Nemo. “I saved your life, you ungrateful little-“

“Why?” comes out so quietly it’s barely a whisper.

At first Nemo thinks he asked that, the question was definitely on the tip of his tongue. But no, the voice belongs to Karlach. She rises from the ground, shaken but unhurt.

“I know you; you’re an awful fucking person who only cares for his own well-being. Why would you do something like that,” she gestures at Nemo and Nemo makes a face at her. He knows how he looks, thank you very much. “For him?”

Gortash opens his mouth, hesitates. His eyes dart to Nemo and Nemo meets his gaze with just as inquisitive expression as the one on Karlach’s face.

“Yes, Enver,” he agrees. “Why?”

But Enver never gets to answer, for in that precise moment the waters of the Morphic pool part and a figure crawls out.

A figure of a pale woman with even paler eyes, dressed in red.

Orin.

She takes a step, then another.

And something is wrong.

Her movements are unsteady; her head dangles as if she’s held up the strings and her eyes-

They’re vacant, her eyes, almost empty. They’re...peaceful, and Orin has never been peaceful in her entire damn life.

Nemo makes the involuntary step forward and is immediately held back by Wyll, who, gods only know how, managed to not only teleport his father right next to Karlach, but also come back to Nemo, and is now holding him firmly by the forearm.

“Don’t,” he whispers into Nemo’s ear. “This is not your sister.”

“Orin?” Nemo calls out regardless, because this is his sister. It has to be.

Orin raises her head and looks straight at him. Then she opens her mouth and speaks:

“Praise the Absolute.”

“By the Nine Hells,” Karlach curses. “She got tadpolled.”

“And she has the stone,” Ketheric is the first one to move, ripping himself out of Nightsong’s grip and stepping forward.

“Well, shit.”

An overwhelming, overbearing horror embraces Nemo.

Orin, his little sister. Orin, his murderer, his torturer.

Orin, the perfect slayer. The puppet of the Absolute.

“Maybe I can use the prism,” he starts. “I can bring her back to her senses.”

“And then what?” Wyll argues and it takes Nemo an embarrassingly long time to realize his friend has already started to pull him away. “She’ll try to kill us on her own volition and not the Brain’s? No.”

“We need to go,” Gortash speaks up. “Quickly, now.”

“There’s no ‘we,’”, Karlach argues. “And ‘we’ are not going anywhere with you.”

“Karlach, now is not the time to argue-“

“You sold me to Zariel-“

“Father?” Isobel calls out. “Father, what are you doing?”

Ketheric unsheathes his sword.

“Atoning,” he speaks. The moves to rip the Netherstone from his armor and throw it at Nemo. Nemo, surprisingly, manages to catch it. “Keep it safe,” the man orders and oh, is this his general voice now? “Keep her safe.”

Nemo doesn’t need to ask who he means by that. Instead he argues.

“I am a murderer, you know that, right?” as if any sane argument would work right now. “A murder incarnate. I do not keep people safe.”

“This time you will,” and this is why Ketheric was so feared and respected; a single hard stare pins Nemo to the ground. “Or I will come back and hunt you down to the end of Toriel. To the end of every known realm, if I have to.”

“Not to interrupt this fine and lovely conversation, but general,” Gortash looks just as puzzled as Nemo feels. “What are you doing again?”

The man has some strength enough to smirk.

“What I should have done long time ago,” he sends Isobel a long, sickeningly loving gaze. “The right thing. Isobel.”

“Father,” the girl’s chin trembles. “Father, I don’t-“

“I love you more than any god could understand,” the old general speaks. “And I will never regret bringing you back, never. But now,” he turns his gaze back and manages to parry the quick, efficient and entirely deadly strike of Bhaal’s unloved daughter. “You have to live. And I...I have to take a stand. Go,” he says. “Go,” he commands. “I will hold her back for as long as I can.”

“The undying against the slayer,” Gortash murmurs as he already sprints towards the elevated platform.

The ground shakes as the Brain breaks out of its bonds, bit by bit, slowly but surely. The wave of psionic energy what comes their way almost knocks them all down.

“Go,” Nemo shouts as he and Wyll teleport closer to the exit. Thank fuck for the teleportation spells. Thank fuck for Wyll.

Karlach all but carries dazed Ravengard away as Dame Aylin takes Isobel in her arms and takes flight.

“Go, go, go!” he repeats as a familiar hand grabs him by the shoulder. Nemo doesn’t have time to think, doesn’t have time to act as he is dragged the remaining way to the platform by no-one but the tyrant himself.

The moment Karlach reaches the platform Wyll hits the control panel and they start to rise. Nemo is afraid it is not fast enough.

From the height of their ascend he sees the undying general fight off the slayer. Two Chosen of Gods against each other.

Even from that far away it is clear Ketheric will fall.

He sacrificed himself. He brought them time.

Fool.

***

Down below the illithid colony, amidst the Hell of his own creation, general Ketheric Thorm receives one last, final blow.

Blood oozes out of his wounds, painting the floor red. Above him a woman dressed in red stands; eyes vacant, empty, soulless.

But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.

Isobel is safe. And Ketheric...

“Melodia,” he whispers as the last breath leaves his body. “I am coming.”

Somehow he knows she is waiting for him; what she has always waited for him, no matter how far he strayed.

Ketheric Thorm dies peacefully. It feels like falling asleep.

#dark urge: nemo #enver gortash #ketheric thorm #isobel thorm #dame aylin #karlach #wyll ravengard #orin the red #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #is it a fix it if i ruin everything in a different way? #is it ketheric thorm redemption fix? yes #durge is a half-drow assasin named Nemo #who is WEAK AS FUCK thanks Orin #also it's kind of a good run as you can see it bc nemo is not strong or powerful enough to be evil #evil is a luxury #this is this fic where gortash accidentally pushes orin into the morphic pool #TO the elder brain. WITH her stone #oh joy #also a fix it where Ketheric gets to atone and Gortash is forced to work together with the team of tadfools #nemo is bad at feelings #the dark urge #bg3 dark urge #durge spoilers #gortash's pov of this is just: #gortash: *saves nemo* everyone: *disliked that*

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Sarenrae: Sunlord Thalachos

CR 15

Neutral Good Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 306

Ahh, here we go, a battle-ready Herald, specifically the Herald of Sarenrae, goddess of the sun, healing, and redemption. This platinum-skinned emissary of sunlight, however, has little to do with those latter two; while he can certainly be merciful and indeed possesses an array healing magic (mainly Remove Disease, Curses, and Fear--all at-will), the Sunlord primarily serves as Sarenrae's praetorian guard, protecting mortals selected by the sun goddess until they no longer require his guidance, often appearing to chosen wards at their birth to shield them from the machinations of the wicked until they learn to defend themselves. Able to not only become invisible at will, but freely change into the form of any Small or Medium humanoid or elemental creature, those tended to by Thalachos rarely ever know who their mysterious protector is (if they even know he's around), and almost never find out until long after he departs... if ever at all.

Interestingly, the purpose behind the Herald's creation is stated to be to serve as Sarenrae's weapon against the Spawn of Rovagug... but, well, I hope that's not literal, because the majority of the Spawn wouldn't even register his presence. I'm personally choosing to interpret it as him being charged with stopping whatever malefic machinations the cult of the Rough Beast is setting into motion to awaken one of the Spawn, because otherwise the Sunlord will need major backup in order to even inconvenience the weakest of the Spawn... or at least better weapons, since he can't even pierce their DR/Epic with his +1 Holy Flaming Scimitars!

But, before you go thinking he's some laughingstock in too far over his head, let me explain something to you: Are you familiar with the concept of hunting with the wrong weapon? For example, a normal shotgun isn't especially effective when hunting elephants, but if you were to instead shoot a squirrel, you'll obliterate the squirrel and likely a good portion of the terrain behind it. I say this to impress upon you the fact that the Spawn are the elephants, Thalachos is the shotgun, and the average cultist of Rovagug is the squirrel.

Before we get to how well he can peel apart a mortal, it's more than a little funny to me how good Thalachos is at getting rid of Evil Outsiders, a foe he was not built to face but nonetheless excels at removing. The Hand of the Inheritor--whom I must apologize to for continuing to punch at every opportunity--is devoted almost entirely to destroying demons, but Thalachos has frankly unfairly potent powers when it comes to combating all Evil, starting at the ability to cast Holy Word AND Dispel Evil at-will, the former capable of simply erasing hoards of lesser fiends and cultists with a single utterance and the latter capable of undoing the magic or the calling of whatever fiend Thalachos gets ahold of. He's got an unrestricted Plane Shift at-will to go wherever he pleases OR slap someone into another dimension with a single failed DC 21 Will save. He can use Sunburst 1/day to bring down Sarenrae's wrath upon an area, scouring it of Undead and any other creature vulnerable to sunlight, and call down a Flame Strike 1/day as well for additional artillery power.

if that wasn't enough, he's got Holy Smite at-will to squash whatever withstood his Holy Word... and perhaps, most blatantly wacky, the level 8 spell Holy Aura at will. NOT 3/day, or 1/day, or even 5/day, but at-will. Holy Aura can bless upwards to 15 creatures per casting with +4 to AC and to saves, 25 SR versus any spell cast by an Evil creature, full mind shielding, AND the ability to inflict permanent blindness against any Evil which strikes a protected creature in melee. He can do this at will, and everyone blessed by this maintains the blessing for 15 rounds.

do you guys think he'd be willing to go north for a bit? y'know, for fun?

All of these blessings are almost strictly for other people, though. Thalachos has no need for his own buffs, shielded by the universal Protective Aura of all Angels, improving both his and nearby allies' defenses against the weapons and magic against the forces of evil and hedging out hostile spell effects of 3rd level or lower (adorably, his aura also gives everyone inside Endure Elements so it's always comfortable). He's also fully immune to Fire, Acid, AND Cold damage, denying the three most common vectors of elemental attack by any creature, let alone fiends. Despite being Large size, he's also got Uncanny Dodge for some reason, which I imagine must look especially uncanny when the solid platinum titan suddenly bends 90 degrees at the waist to avoid an incoming spell.

All that defense helps him (literally) shine where he's most dangerous: In melee. It probably comes as no surprise that the 8ft tall flaming four-armed angel is a melee beater, and a resilient one at that. With an aforementioned at-will Invisibility, you may not know he's nearby until he slams down directly behind you, trapping you and all your friends in his 20ft threat radius. While certainly proficient with his +1 Flaming Holy Composite Longbow (2d8+6 + 1d6 Fire + 2d6 vs Evil), his true threat lays in melee, and not just for his damage.

He's got every Two-Weapon Fighting feat all the way to Greater, allowing him to make three attacks with his off-hand weapons while adding his full Str mod to the damage, already making his Full-Attack hurt; he's armed with two +1 Flaming Holy Scimitars which hit six times a round if he manages to Full-Attack. The meager 1d8+8 damage (+1d6 Fire + 2d6 vs Evil) belies their true effectiveness, because six attacks make the 18-20 crit range of his chosen weapons far more frightening than the low damage would suggest... and taking damage from two of his attacks in a single round forces a DC 24 Fortitude save versus being stunned for 1d6 rounds.

There is no cooldown to this ability or 24 hour immunity clause, and he can affect as many creatures as he can hit twice a round, potentially letting him stun up to three targets in a single round. Since being stunned has an obvious visual sign--the target drops everything they're holding and becomes woozy--the Sunlord is intelligent and insightful enough to drop aggro on whoever he's stunned to focus on anyone else in his melee radius to spread it around. Thankfully, this ability doesn't trigger multiple times a round for a single target, as it only checks the first time the target is hit twice. Taking all six hits doesn't trigger the ability 3 times, all the more reason he should diversify the directions he swings his swords.

Being stun-locked in melee with someone who can throw out so many attacks a round is never fun, and do you want to know what's worse? He doesn't need to Full-Attack to do it! He's a TWF guy, remember? If he moves up to you (50ft movespeed, 100ft fly) and does a simple attack, he can still hit twice, potentially cause a stun, and then do a Full-Attack next round instead to keep the chain going as long as he can.

I think all of this all very firmly puts him into the territory of "Tide-turning superweapon" that all Divine Heralds should be. He's a very high bar to clear, and very few do, hence why he caps off Holy Heralds Month. Fitting, I feel, for a central goddess such as Sarenrae.

You can read more about him here.

#monster spotlight #CR 11 to 15 #Holy Heralds Month #Pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

[monster-slxt]

It was tradition that when a royal heir comes of age, they spend a year in service of The Goddess. The goddess has many different needs, and the tendency for the royal family to have Many offspring means those jobs are readily filled. She can survive without help, or course, as she didn't for centuries before the kingdom, but it is good form to repay her for her help keeping the kingdom prospering.

Your siblings came back from their year telling tales of hard but not unpleasant work. Preparing food and cleaning rooms, keeping watch for thieves outside the treasure room. You figured your year would be spent much the same way. That would not be the case.

The day of your 20th birthday your woken early, stripped and bathed in fine smelling oils and dressed in shear gowns. None of this happened to your siblings. The attendants won't answer your questions as your whisked away without goodbyes to serve your Goddess. You're marched deep into the caves where she lives, deeper and deeper until the ceiling opens up to a grand cavern with a giant blue dragonfly and you kneel before your Goddess.

She is comparable in size to a horse, but much longer. Buzzing overtakes the cavern as she flies over to you, assessing her newest devotee. You are still bowing before her, head down to the ground and back arched- not entirely sure what you're ment to do next.

You don't have to wait long. She lands on top of you, the overwhelming buzzing never stopping. It drowns out every thought as her sharp insecoid legs pinch the sheer gown and rip it to shreds. You can't move. The buzzing is keeping you still. With your head pushed into the ground you can't see her ovipositor extend from her tail, so you don't expect it when she roughly slams it deep into your cunt. When did you get so wet? You've never had something this big inside you, but it slides right in like you were made for her. Your addled mind can only moan at being stuffed so full.

She doesn't fuck you, The Goddess has no need for sex and doesn't care about your pleasure in all of this, but that doesn't stop every nerve in your body from burning with pleasure. The holy ovipositor reaches your cervix, and with a sharp pinch your body yields. Like a mortal could ever keep a goddess at bay.

Eggs. You suddenly understand. You're here to sire her eggs. You cum harder than you ever have before as the first golf ball sized egg forces its way into your womb. In the back of your mind you think about how jealous your siblings will all be, that your year in service was so much Better than theirs. The first egg slipping through your cervix unleashes a flood. You can't even count as you're stuffed fuller and fuller of soft jelly eggs. Soon enough your stomach is swollen, growing to a size that would make someone overdue with twins look lucky. You've lost track over how many times you've cum.

6 months into your year of service, you can feel the eggs hatching inside you. Something deep inside of you tells you it's not time for them to come out yet. That will happen later. For now, you've practically grown bigger every day. Your Goddess largely ignores you, which is a shame because as swollen as you are with her brood you can't exactly tend to the burning fire between your legs. Your one grace has been a lack of movement from the eggs so far, and with them hatching that's come to an end. You can feel your babies squirming around your womb, buldging out the skin even further. It's going to be a long 6 months.

It's the last day of your year of service. You stopped growing about 9 months in, thank The Goddess, but your children have been getting more and more active as times goes on. You can barely think. You can feel deep in your soul that it's time, and start slowly making your way to the entrance of the cave. Just as you reach a pool of water your instincts tell you you need to give birth in, the kingdom comes to watch. Everyone is here, celebrating the good fortune and luck at being blessed to have the offspring of a Goddess. You don't even notice, so wrapped up in a buzzing only you can hear as you push. Slowly but surely, the first larva makes it way out of you and into the cool water below. Then the second. Again and again for hours you labour. The kingdom grows closer as time passes, some admiring your blessed body, some clearing sweat from your brow and offering a cool drink, someone starts playing music. All you can focus on us pushing.

After what feels like years, you're done. You pass out just as the last grub leaves you. Royal attendants clean you and prepare to bring you back to the castle. You'll be highly celebrated for bring such a blessed gift to your people when your recovered enough to walk

#monsterfucking #monster smut #ovi #tetro #insects

[tonberrykins]

Hey, I get I've been raving about Astarion a lot but, like, are there ACTUALLY people out here who hate Gale and are calling him an incel? Is this a thing? Thank God I apparently curate well bc holy fucking shit I would be having heart palpitations DAILY out of SHEER ANGER.

So, like, we're always going to make fun of our faves and whatnot bc lbr "bro, you were banging Mystra and fucked up that bad?" THOUGH TO BE FAIR, if you're a wizard it isn't that hard to bang Mystra. It's kind of her thing. P sure her banging Elminster as many times as she has is the main reason he's still kicking and out being the Faerûnian Gandalf that he is in-game. Mystra's bodycount aside (especially since that has ZERO bearing on ANYTHING least of all her portfolio and purpose), like, Gale is a very intelligent man. He is also what we would consider as an objectively good person. Save the kids, help the tieflings, be kind and compassionate to those the average "good" aligned folks would consider "worthy" and yeah. He is literally the Alistair Theirin of BG3 if you Fusion Danced him together with Awakening Anders.

That being said, he is also very deeply flawed in that he KNOWS he is brilliant and in that brilliance, knowing his own talent, he thinks he knows better than even his own goddess BUT-! But, but, but, he is mortal, is young enough and in an age to not be able to wrack up the accomplishments of, say, Elminster whom he clearly knows on a fairly personal level so, like anyone who knows they are capable of doing great things, he feels INFERIOR bc he hasn't, in his mind, PROVEN that he is as great as he knows he is. And that's the hubris of mortality.

Objectively, LOGICALLY, he knows that he's more than proven himself capable. Mystra wouldn't have started a relationship with him otherwise, and she never asked him to prove himself. It was his own desperation to prove that he was worthy of her and thinking he knew EVERYTHING that lead to his terrible situation. Is he very clinical and logical about it? Yes. Is he squirrelly about it in the beginning? Very much, yes. Hell, I would be. No one wants to be friends with a literal ticking time bomb and the man is VERY lonely. Hell, that's the name of the game baybee! Baldur's Gate 3: These Bitches Need a Hug; YES EVEN LAE'ZEL, I WILL FIGHT Y'ALL!

Back to Gale, your friendship with him is something he very much treasures and when he starts all his finger wiggling and magic talk he's like any nerd sharing the thing he is most passionate about. He is also the first to admit he fucked up. HOWEVER, that does not (imo) warrant him needing to sacrifice himself all for Mystra's forgiveness, and even Elminster isn't on board with that. And, like, when he talks about Mystra it's never in an accusatory manner towards her. He clearly still loves her, likely always will, but that never negates his love for the PC who chooses to romance him. He is also very much prone to falling into the same pitfall of hubris that got him before and very clearly needs guidance that, yes, Mystra clearly did neglect in giving him. But he never outright blames her, at least he's not in my playthroughs thus far even after having spoken with her in the temple. He's just a sad, lonely nerd and that does not automatically make him an incel; y'all just don't know how to read, listen, or understand nuance. Apparently.

tl;dr

Gale deserves as much love as Astarion but bc he isn't evil "babygirl" material that's "fixable" he's just called an incel when he can be a very genuine friend, but what are those nowadays I guess?

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #this was a rant #unhinged and freeflowing #bc I'm mad lol #it's like Gale is suffering the same shit as Lae'zel #bitches hate a brusque and blunt woman who won't immediately like them #and people also hate men who aren't uwu enough for them #which is another problem altogether but I digress #though honestly Gale and Shadowheart seem to have more similar points for comparison #on the just absolutely random hatred they get #granted Shadowheart and Lae'zel get it more bc how dare the tiddies not like me IMMEDIATELY #anyway these are all my weird children #my freakish found family #and I love them all very much

[mossyxkorok]

The Gift of Forever

Summary: Inspired by the question, when did Zelda move in to the Hateno House? Answering this led to filling in more gaps between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. ZeLink.

—

Link stirred the contents of a cooking pot rhythmically, watching each savory morsel as it tumbled to the surface of a cloudy broth. Steam rose lazily from the stew, curling tendrils around the handle of the ladle, carrying rich earthy scents into the air. He pulled in a deep breath through his nose, notes of charred wood, hearty vegetables and tender meat coalescing into a blissful fragrance that he drank in hungrily. His lips stretched wide, he gazed down at his creation with a grin.

He and Princess Zelda had been in Hateno for a few days, following an extended survey in Faron, and upon arriving, the princess immediately rooted herself in Purah’s lab to study, leaving only sparsely for a meal or a meeting. As usual, Link had accompanied her on her travels, and always made time to cook for the two of them. A trail followed the handle of the ladle as he stirred the thick broth, showing him any moment now, they could feast. 

At this point, serving the dish was dependent on Princess Zelda’s punctuality, and she did insist that she would join him earlier than the day prior. Yesterday, the sun had descended before he surrendered to his empty stomach and ate without her. He peered over his shoulder, down the path to the entrance of the village, and saw the usual clamor of children running and playing. If the princess did not arrive soon, he would send A-Zoom on a top secret mission up the hill to retrieve her—all before bedtime, of course.

Better to request the kid’s help than to deliver a cold bowl to the laboratory again, he thought. His lips creased with the memory of visiting the princess last night, her surprise at his arrival as if he caught her guilty. The only accusation he could hold against her is forgetting to take care of herself, burying her own needs under scholarly expectations. Even a century of time could not erode her resolve. 

Currently, in her research, she was scanning for any mentions or symbolism of Zonai in Sheikah texts, since discovering more about the Zonai would certainly help Hyrule’s future prosperity. Few surviving tomes in the royal archives have mentions of the Zonai people, with cloudy specifics swirling around a brutal war, a Demon King and a powerful artifact. It seemed only the end of Zonai history was recorded, but the princess insisted on continuing the search, for there had to be something to learn from a people revered as gods.

Whereas the Sheikah tucked themselves away, their creations stowed underground, the Zonai took no measures to conceal their existence in Hyrule. Yet, from atop pillars and within labyrinths, there were more questions than answers about the Zonai, and aside from their architectural feats, they left little else behind. Zelda could only assume they met their demise around the war, since accounts of Zonai society disappear shortly after. But what was the artifact, she had asked before, and, how can we protect Hyrule from this Demon King?

Lifting his head, he could see her nearing, and from her appearance, he understood she was no closer to either answer. Her hands were joined at her abdomen, and she was noticeably deep in thought, like she had never left the lab. Something deep within him throbbed with the urge to take her frustration away, the same feeling from long ago, standing behind her while she pleaded to the goddess. Whether it was ancient ruins or holy statues, stone never listened.

She reached him with a weak smile and sat on a stool across from him. He handed her a full bowl, inquiring, “How did research go?”

“Oh, another day of sifting through the piles. Sometimes I wonder how either of them get any work done.”

The state of Purah’s lab did make Link wonder if she learned etiquette from a bokoblin camp instead of Kakariko Village. Seemingly, her assistant paid the mess no mind, but Link would rather avoid dodging papers and books scattered all over the floor.

“There may not be anything to find,” she continued, “Purah nor Symin can recall any mentions of the Zonai in their own studies. Meanwhile, the survey itself has slowed… I don’t think we’ve found anything substantial in quite some time.”

Link’s heart leapt. He wondered if she would consider any findings removed from Zonai civilization as substantial. With all of the personnel combing through the jungle, had no one else made the same connection as him? So close to the stable, nonetheless…

Zelda reentered his focus as she said, “And I’m certainly not getting anywhere, either.” Her eyes drifted to the side, her chest falling with a silent exhale. 

Very rarely since they met, Link could sense that the princess was tired. She wore a perfect camouflage, hiding any hint of fatigue from anyone with an untrained eye, but Link was around her enough to notice a change. Despite her utmost devotion, the majority of her life she spent grasping for something out of reach, but immersed in study of Sheikah technology, she could ignore her shortcomings. Recently, she was involved in the design and development of the new location towers around Hyrule, but that project was now in the construction phase, and she was no engineer. Aside from a lack of discoveries in Zonai archaeology, she had little else to occupy her thoughts now. 

Research groups had been deployed to all of the major sites of Zonai origin throughout Hyrule, but all had met a similar obstacle. There was much to learn about the ancient society from their ruins, but none held any evidence or relics from the catastrophic events outlined in the historical records from the castle. From the time of the Calamity, Zelda had the wisdom that no amount of digging will reveal what does not wish to be found. 

Years ago, as Link haphazardly stumbled upon the memories he lost and the fog cleared from his consciousness, he was struck with a sharp realization: the same problems can follow you for a century. Generations passed while he slept, most of the people he knew one hundred years ago have moved on to the Sacred Realm, but he had been awake long enough to carve out a place for himself. Hyrule had been refurbished in the last century, and although he was still the swordsman, and she the princess, they fit a little differently among the new joints connecting the realm. For one, Zelda had free reign to explore the entirety of Hyrule, no longer confined within her father’s demands. 

The only barriers to the princess’ research had been planted tens of thousands of years ago, with no hints of how to remove them. Exasperated by her studies, she had previously suggested that the only ways she could learn more about the Zonai are if she could talk to spirits or travel back in time, and at times, Link almost agreed. In quiet moments, gazing at the sky together, he could sometimes sense her asking the heavens if its people ever returned.

Regardless of any hindrance, she would never be prohibited from contributing to research, and he would never be prohibited from supporting her. One hundred years ago, he was in constant fear of stepping out of line and being dismissed from his role as her knight attendant. He could only compare the feeling of being accosted by the king on the bridge to her study to the panic and hopelessness of free falling. He never dared imagine he could be sitting here in his home village with her, doing nothing more than sharing a meal. Without a kingdom chaining them to the castle, they could establish their own rules.

For the past few minutes, she had filled the air between them with personal mutterings about the Sheikah integrating their magic with Zonai structures, and at the first opening, he struck.

“Bring your books to my house tomorrow. I think we can agree I keep it a little neater than the lab.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows bounced. “It would be too much of a hassle to carry them there and back.”

He shrugged, “We’ll attach a wagon to Theia”—her golden-bodied horse—“I have some room in my storage nook to keep anything temporarily.”

“A change of scenery would be nice…” She paused, as if mulling over the offer once more, “Well then, let’s meet outside the inn tomorrow morning. Thank you, Link.”

They smiled at each other until Zelda lightly fumbled with her bowl. She righted herself, and Link saw her head turn as the sound of a child’s cheerful shriek caught her ear. She cast a gentle gaze at the kids playing down the path, then chuckled towards the cooking pot, seemingly recalling a memory. Link could think of many that involved the princess with the village children.

“I know I’ve mentioned it before, but,” Zelda began, her grin dissolving. “I do wonder what kind of education those kids are getting.”

“Whatever they find outside,” Link suggested, “Plus what their parents say.”

“And what they hear in town,” Zelda added, shuddering. Images of Hateno’s gossiping ladies and half-dressed shop owners floated through Link’s mind.

She stopped, confirming his suspicions: she would never ask for a favor of such significance. Building a school was her idea alone. It would not address an immediate need for the village, so why interrupt their way of life, he could hear her say. Construction requires labor and money, two things of short supply in Hateno, and Hudson’s company was in the middle of a separate project that she herself had helped orchestrate. As she toiled for others, Link had little concern outside of ensuring she was fed. She deserved the support of the entire kingdom, and he was happy to provide for her, for she had lifted him up so many times before. 

He was all too familiar with shoving his desires into a dark unseen corner of his mind, but unlike the princess, he could more easily coax them out. His fugue from his resurrection had freed him from his inhibitions, but with Zelda, he knew better than to distract her. His pouch felt heavy with the secret it carried—it could be the leverage she needed to vault over this hurdle, but the object held a significance that he was unprepared to reveal just yet. Guilt pooled in his stomach, but he assured himself she could wait one more night. 

“You could always send them up to Purah to do some experiments on them,” he suggested.

Sighing, she explained, “She would just find a way to steal their youth.”

“They can learn from that!”

She lightly kicked his shin in jest. “I would prefer if they stayed alive!”

They laughed and laughed together. The timing is right, he told himself, a warmth spreading throughout his body. Just have to wait until morning.

——

A pale light splashed over the hills of Hateno as the sun crept higher into the sky. Tiny hands wove flowers into a silky white mane, following no particular pattern or form, directed only by youthful spontaneity. Blue, pink, red and purple blooms clung to the golden mare’s hair, like she was encrusted with bright jewels. Link positioned himself behind the four children, observing as they each decorated a section of mane, nodding with approval every time they emphatically presented their progress.

Before the sun rose, Link had woven many braids into Theia’s hair. He divided her long white mane into two sections down the spine, plaiting only one, so the braids laid on a layer of loose hair. He had the idea for the style while he was gathering wildflowers in his front yard by torchlight; he knew the princess would be awake shortly after dawn. For the freshest blossoms, he was prepared to lose some sleep, providing only the best for Princess Zelda.

His eyes flitted from the row of children to the entrance of the inn, and he detected his pulse rising with each passing minute he watched them decorate. To no avail, he tried to suppress his nerves, told himself that Zelda would love anything the children helped create, but he knew he was truly afraid of what he had prepared for later. For days, as she studied, he tweaked his strategy, giving it the attention he once reserved for plotting military operations.

A week ago, what began as a lone night stroll through the jungle turned into a quest of novel discovery. In the distance, he saw a bright blue glow like a luminous stone, but he had never seen a stone deposit shift and move. He stepped over the gate to the dondon pen and took out one of the multitudes of luminous stones he had in his pocket for comparison—he never imagined the creature would eat it! And how could he possibly stop there? 

After the gentle beast had scooped the fifth stone from Link’s hand, a realization arose in his mind: what if it was not healthy for the creature to eat rocks? Well, Link had tried it at least once since rousing from his slumber. Nerves high, he retreated back to the stable with a plan to return the next night, and when he did, there was a different shining object waiting for him, a diamond. He would have told Zelda about the encounter, except once he came across the crystal, he was instantly overtaken by fantasies of her in a billowing white dress, bouquets and tearful ladies around. An opportunity like this would not arise again. 

And perhaps, just maybe, the fantasy of his was not so far removed from reality. Even he had noticed her lingering glances and touches, and how she never resisted when he pushed his luck helping her from her horse or leaning over her studies. If Hylia was to spare one more blessing, their relationship could take on a different form, progress into something even more precious. Since he found it (and cleaned it, to be safe), the gem had stayed deep within his pouch, but like a pebble in his boot, he was keenly aware of it with each step.

His head shot up when he heard the creak of the entrance door to the Ton Pu Inn. In the doorway stood Zelda, who immediately noticed her horse, her expression just as surprised as Link’s. 

“Scatter!” Ordered Link. A chorus of gleeful cries ensued as the group of kids dispersed at full speed. With a hand clenched at her chest, Zelda descended the stairs, her eyes still wide.

“Good morning, Princess.”

“What’s all this?” She inquired, watching the children run in every direction.

“I just had to stop these troublemakers from vandalizing your horse,” he explained jovially, leading Theia around to show the princess the children’s work.

“Oooh…” Her face glowed with admiration as her eyes, as bright as a meadow in summer, followed the crooked pattern of flowers in her horse’s mane. “It’s lovely, thank you.”

They shared a smile before Link sharply exhaled, patting the side of his thigh. “Let’s get going!” he said, gesturing to the wagon he had borrowed for the trip. They hooked it up to Theia, and Link walked alongside her as Zelda rode the horse to the lab perched on the hill. When they arrived at Link’s home, Zelda organized the books while Link prepared a meal, and after they ate, she retreated upstairs while Link completed some other tasks around the house. 

He stood over the sink, back to the princess, and checked over his shoulder—he could only see the crown of her golden hair, her face parallel to the desk. His heartbeat thumping, he extracted the diamond from his pouch, twisting it in front of him, watching it reflect the soft illumination around. It shined with glossy blues and pinks, catching light and transforming it, and Link was hit with a sudden impulse to polish it, to make it more extravagant for her. 

“Link,” the princess called from beyond the bannister. His heart lurched as he shoved the item back in his pouch. “Did I leave a notebook down there? It’s brown with a red pattern on the front.” 

He frantically scanned the kitchen, looking for the journal that matched her description. “Y-yes. I’ll bring it up to you,” he returned, once he found it on the edge of the dining table. He held the book to his sternum for a moment, waiting for the tension in his chest to abate. He inhaled slowly, and with one last paranoid pat on his pouch, pressed forward.

Ascending the stairs, his body told him to expect a battle. His veins surged with the same sensation that had preceded so much pain and loss in his life, but also glory. If it meant waking up to her voice again, he would never hesitate to step between the princess and certain death, and so, he kept marching. His legs felt rigid, but some force of gravity pulled him nearer to her. Atop the landing, when he saw her, she was grace embodied, sliding a fingertip down a page in the middle of a thick book, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Once his breath returned, he approached her, bending over the desk so their noses were practically touching. Heat leapt from her cheeks, grazing his face, as he raised the leather bound book to his chest. He was close enough to smell her sweet skin and count the stars within her shining eyes. His blood ran hot and his muscles twitched with the urge to flee, but before he could reconsider his next action, he said:

“Is it this one?” His pulse beat wildly in his ears, but his eyes remained soft and light.

“Link…” she whispered. “Thank you.”

He nodded and took a half-step back, smoothly, like gliding on ice. He swallowed hard, the only indication he showed of the fire burning up his scalp.

“And I must thank you for the invite,” she said softly, like she was telling a secret.

“Zelda, you are always welcome here. There’s nowhere in Hyrule where you’re not.”  

She blinked at his words, no sound passing her lips.

“While we were at the Lakeside Stable,” he continued, “I heard everyone either talking about the dondons or the survey. You bring people together, you help and inspire them and there’s nothing you do without others’ well-being in mind.”

He lifted one of her hands, lightly holding it between his. His knee bent independently of his mind, his thoughts trailing far behind his body.

“All those years ago, I made a promise that I would always protect you, and every day, I renew that promise.”

He cupped a hand over hers and looked into her eyes, bright emeralds swimming with emotion. He had never been more certain, hers was the only face he needed to see, now and forever; the only voice he needed to hear, guiding him through this life and the next. After his century long sleep, when he was able to remember her, really remember her, his end goal became hazy. He did not awaken after death for revenge on the demon that killed him, he only wanted to rescue the princess, for her smile was the only reward he needed. Victory meant little if he could not spend it with her.

“You are the reason I am living today, and every day, you give my life meaning,” Link stated.

From his pouch, he extracted the uncut diamond, a shining chunk of eternity, and pinched it delicately between his fingers.

“I found this—in Faron. With it, I want to give you a choice.” He slid the gemstone into her hand. “Make yourself a ring, or sell it and pay Bolson to build your school.”

She touched her chest and a single sob escaped her before a smile unraveled, stretching across her whole face. Through tearful laughter, she answered, “You know I would never choose the first one.”

He snickered with her, along with a final request, “And please. Stay here, with me.”

“On one condition.”

He looked up from his position before her, reveling in her presence like the goddess she is. He was prepared to climb the tallest mountain in Hyrule or swim across the sea if she only hinted at it. She made his struggle worth it, every cut or bruise or fall he took for her, even when he could not remember, it was for her. Everything from finding the sword to becoming her knight and confronting death itself was for this moment. He nodded expectantly for her word, his mouth half ajar in a daze.

“Kiss me.”

#Zelink #botw #totk #zelda fanfiction #loz fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #legend of zelda #my writing

[cinyemina]

Levi's monologue when he was beating the shit out of eren

I can't believe it. I mean, really, can you? It's like a twisted, messed-up joke that humanity's last hope is pinned on a group of bumbling, power-hungry, so-called leaders. These guys couldn't even lead a donkey to water without getting lost in the desert...

And don't get me started on the Yeager brat. Ugly as a Titan's backside, but they want to barbecue him like he's the main course at a Titan buffet. The poor brat is scared out of his mind, stuttering like a broken record, begging for his life every few seconds. Newsflash, brat: nobody understands you when you're gagged. It's like trying to have a deep philosophical debate with a brick wall.

Nile Dok, the shining beacon of all that is pig-headed and self-important. Head of the Military Police, they call him. But from where I'm standing, he's the grand poobah of all things nonsensical. And let's not forget Nick, the Minister Shitface, holding the prestigious title of vice-judge. It's like a match made in heaven – two peas in a pod of bureaucratic incompetence.

Erwin, on the other hand, well, he's got his own history with Dok. Something about stealing Erwin's girl, Marie, way back when. The details aren't clear, but you can bet your boots that it's a festering wound that still stings. You see, Eyebrows may look as calm as a tranquil lake, but beneath that serene exterior, there's a storm brewing.

Minister Nick and his never-ending religious sermons. He's all about that Walls mumbo-jumbo, but honestly, I've got more important things to do, like keeping your sorry butts alive in this Titan-infested world. If I did give a damn about religion, I'd want a better spokesperson than this guy. I mean, really, it's like having a dung beetle as your life coach. Nick's "inspirational" speeches would put even the most dedicated insomniac to sleep. But hey, maybe that's the secret to his survival – bore the Titans to tears. While he's preaching about the great beyond, I'm out here in the real world, making sure you have a future to even worry about.

If there's a heaven, hell, or purgatory, I hope they've got better entertainment than this holy bore. Dok's playing puppet master to Zackly, and it's a damn puppet show I'm not willing to watch any longer. The clock's ticking, and I can't let this charade continue. The jury needs a reality check before Dok's nonsense becomes law.

Erwin, my partner in crime, gives me that unspoken signal, and it's like we share the same damn brain. Twins, they call us, and they might be right. But let's get one thing straight – I got the looks, and I've got the, well, length, if you catch my drift.

It's time to step up, cut through the crap, and bring some order to this chaotic world. Because if there's one thing we don't need, it's more clowns in this circus of despair. It's time for the Survey Corps to do what we do best – kick some Titan ass and take names.

It's a damn shame that I have to resort to beating the living daylights out of Eren Yeager to make a point. But let me tell you, it's like a twisted kind of therapy for me. The kid's got a hair-trigger temper, and it doesn't take much to set him off. I mean, everything makes him lose his marbles.

You'd think we were living in a world where Titans are the least of our worries, with the way Eren goes ballistic over the smallest things. It's like he's got a personal grudge against serenity. But hey, if my fists can knock some sense into him, then I'll gladly be the bad guy. In this world, losing your cool can get you killed, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep this circus from turning into a bloody tragedy.

Mikasa, the black-haired girl, can't seem to stop gushing over "Ereh!" like she's some kind of Titan-slaying goddess. The way she clings to that Titan-spitface is almost comical. Kid's got herself a full-blown crush on Mr. Yeager.

And sure, I've heard it before, that Mikasa Ackerman looks a bit like me, despite us having zero ties. But let's get one thing straight – I'd rather be related to a sack of potatoes than be associated with a brat who's obsessed with Eren.

I'm not one to toot my own horn, but between her and me, I'm the hotter one in this messed-up circus. Beauty might not save the world, but it sure beats being infatuated with a Titan-transforming teenager.

It's not the stench of their porky existence that gets to me, although that's a close second. No, it's the fear that I feed on, thrive on, and let me tell you, it's a feast.

Dok and Minister Nick are probably soaking their pants, and also shitting right about now, knowing that in my mind's eye, I'm picturing them in Yeager's shoes. There's something satisfying about watching them squirm, knowing that their day of judgment might be just around the corner. It's like a sweet symphony, and I'm the conductor, orchestrating their fear, one crescendo at a time. This world is a savage playground, and I'm the merciless player.

Wait shit, was that a spit and blood covered tooth? Holy hell, it doesn't matter. I need to pull back. Just one more kick.

Okay, maybe one more for good measure. Can't leave things unfinished, right?

And one last one, just to make sure things are nice and tidy. It's not often I get to let loose like this, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Another kick for the sake of, well, cleanliness.

TLDR: Shipping between Levi and Eren won't be tolerated, it's disgusting.

#levi aot #levi ackerman #levi #rivaille heichou #rivaille ackerman #eren yeager #eren jaeger #aot erwin #erwin smith #erwin #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #shitpost #funny #sarcastic #sarcasm #dry humor #anime #manga #aot #cinycesum-fan-stuffs

[aikoiya]

LoZ: BotW - Why I Think Zelda Couldn't Unlock Her Magic

I'm gonna try & explain this in DnD terms if I can.

1 problem, I think, is that she was approaching unlocking her magic in a similar manner to that of a Cleric, when really, it's possible that she's more of a Divine Soul Sorcerer.

Clerics, their Divine Magic is more so on loan from their patron as that magic isn't really their own to begin with. Because of this, their magic is directly connected to their faith in & devotion to their patron.

Divine Soul Sorcerers are different in that some are the result of a, possibly distant, familial relation to a Divine being, while others have a sort of holy, prophetic destiny that marks them as vessels of Divine Magic.

Zelda is both of these things. Not only is she a direct ancestor to Hylia's mortal vessel (& depending on your hc all Zeldas could possibly be Hylia's reincarnation, this one included), but she is also one of the 2-3 central players in a cyclical destiny that repeats itself over & over again even when the main opposition in the prophecy isn't the one currently causing issues (ie. Ganondorf/Demise's bastard hate-child).

In this way, Zelda's Divine Magic is hers by blood & possibly even soul. It isn't something that was bestowed upon her for being a good little worshiper. It's hers based on genetics & possibly also her soul. As such, her magic is more likely to unlock in a different way. Possibly on a more natural level or even with a sort of emotional catalyst, which Link became for her canonically.

In this way, I think that she had all the necessary tools to unlock her powers on her own & that Hylia wasn't necessarily keeping anything from her. And, in fact, Hylia's aid likely was never needed to begin with.

Hell, if all Zeldas are actually Hylia's reincarnation, then the actual Hylia likely isn't even there in the way that Hyruleans likely think she is. The Goddess Statues more than likely being inhabited by Hylia's bunshin. Which is a sort of ability that Japanese deities have to split themselves up into regional rulers of sort & act on the source god's behalf.

Ergo, if Hylia is being reincarnated in the same way that Link is, then the "Hylias" possessing the statues are not actually her & most likely don't have her full power. Merely acting as guardians of Hyrule & guides for the Hero.

At the same time, a lot of people seem to be under the impression that if gods are real, then they should just make everything better, but all that would do is make people reliant on them to an unhealthy degree. Like, it's one thing to ask for help when you need it, it's another to just not be able to do things on your own. We also don't really know the rules involving interference in mortal lives. There could easily be a very strict protocol in place with dire consequences if it's breached.

Anyway, more than anything, I think 1 issue is that Zelda, & in fact everyone else, expected Hylia to just give Zelda her powers when she already had them. Like, yes, Zelda was working hard to unlock her powers. Breaking her back & probably getting herself sick doing so, but that doesn't negate the fact that said work seemed to almost entirely rely on praying & asking for help from the goddess.

In a lot of ways, I think she would've unlocked her magic more easily if she'd gone about it as if it were any other form of magic. Specifically, the way a Sorcerer would.

—

However, it's also possible that if her magic is also based partially on faith, then while it may be in a similar way to that of a Cleric, I don't believe it to be altogether the same. Which could, in itself, be the reason she was having so much trouble. What I mean is that she, just as a person, is much more cerebral, secular, & scientifically-minded than any of the other princesses that we've seen so far.

That isn't to say that these are bad things as they make her who she is. A very bright, intelligent, inquisitive, compassionate person.

More so, this issue is likely a result of one possible side-effect of these qualities. In much a similar way to how being hardworking & determined can result in someone being stubborn or hard-headed. Or how honesty, having both feet on the ground, & having a firm grasp on reality can result in bluntness, sometimes to the point of seeming insensitive of other's feelings & perspectives. Or any number of things.

Zelda, just as an individual, needs to know & understand things as most with a scientific mind do (I tend to be very logic & rule-oriented, personally). And the thing is that, a really big part of faith is being able to let go of that need to know why or how, which I think that this particular Zelda would have difficulties with.

At the same time, I don't think that the faith she needs has much to do with faith in Hylia per se, nor even in her own destiny, as like I said before, Zelda's magic isn't on loan the way a Cleric's generally is. Yes, it originally came from Hylia, but that's because she is Hylia's descendant. More so, it's possible that what she needed, at least in part, was faith in herself.

I see Zelda as having lost a lot of confidence in herself due to her own perceived repeated failures. Which ends up resulting in her, essentially, getting in her own way.

In my mind, when Link was about to die, she suddenly didn't have time to doubt herself anymore, so when adding this fact to him acting as a sort of emotional catalyst for her, it caused a bit of an explosion of Divine Magic.

As for why she didn't do this in reaction to her father? To put it frankly, she simply wasn't there to see it & thus didn't experience the same immediate urgency that she did with Link as she was literally right there for that. In fact, I can almost guarantee that had she been there when her father was about to be killed, then she absolutely would've activated her magic in order to save him just like she did canonically with Link.

---

It's also possible that motivation could've played a role.

---

Edit: Something I came across a while ago that might also have contributed to her problems.

@skyloftian-nutcase - "This Zelda wants for the pieces to just fit but she can't figure it out, and instead of doing some introspection she just continues to look for alternatives. When she does do introspection, it's just to ask why she's defective. Things just need to make sense. I feel like an attitude like this implies that 1, Zelda has no instructor and therefore never learned how to learn, and 2, that implies that everything else she's good at has come naturally to her, such as technology. This girl is a scientist! Who has not learned the scientific method! Though she does try experiments, as poor Link can attest. "

They bring up a very good point! It's very possible that this may well be the case!

I recommend reading the whole post. There's def some good insights.

Zelda's Personality

LoZ Wild Masterlist

#loz #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw #zelda #cleric #divine soul sorcerer #dnd #dungeons and dragons

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 14 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

Zo: Aloy, is everything all right? You rushed out pretty fast.

FlameHairSavior: Oh, just more problems to fix. Turns out that even though we have the other subfunctions, we can't actually get HEPHAESTUS, because it deleted the Alpha Override from its code! Which I didn't even know was a thing that could happen!

β: iut likely

β: it was likely only possible due to both its programming knowledge and its distributed nature over the entire caldron network

β: calkdron

β: cauldron

Zo: I actually already knew that. Beta and I discussed this.

FlameHairSavior: So now I have to go find the Omega Override, which hopefully is in Faro's bunker, which hopefully is in San Francisco after all, which hopefully the Quen can help me get inside.

Marshall Kotallo: The Quen are the invaders from across the sea, correct?

FlameHairSavior: Yes. They use primitive Focuses, about twenty years out of date. I only met the one who didn't try to kill me, but she seemed nice. I think she'll help me get what I need.

FlameHairSavior: Also, she might think I'm a goddess, or something.

β: what

FlameHairSavior: It's a long story, and has to do with the Quen religion, which I don't understand.

Zo: How long will it take you to get to San Francisco?

FlameHairSavior: I have no idea. Probably a while.

Zo: Then you probably have time to explain why you think she thinks you're a goddess.

FlameHairSavior: [Exasperation.png]

Zo: And I'll keep Erend from making any jokes.

FlameHairSavior: Deal!

ForgeLordAleMaster: HEY!

FlameHairSavior: Too late, no take backs!

ForgeLordAleMaster: I DIDN'T GIVE YOU ANYTHING TO TAKE BACK!

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHAT WOULD I EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT, ANYWAY?

HIMBO: Probably about how this is the second religion that's declared her some sort of holy person.

ForgeLordAleMaster: THAT'S SOME LOW-HANGING FRUIT.

FlameHairSavior: I don't know the full details, but apparently Alva recognized me as Elizabet Sobeck. Thankfully, she seemed to realize that I wasn't actually Sobeck, but she played it up for the soldiers.

β: why would that even matter

FlameHairSavior: Seems like they worship the Old Ones. Or something. I don't know. It reminds me of the Nora revering the Matriarchs, except they're dead.

FlameHairSavior: She talked about the “Ancestors” and “the Legacy” a lot.

HIMBO: Are you sure you should trust them at all? Didn't you say the first Quen you met shot on sight?

Marshall Kotallo: There has certainly been no formal attempt at contact with the Tenakth. As far as I know, no soldier has survived contact.

ForgeLordAleMaster: SURPRISED YOU'D ADMIT THAT.

Marshall Kotallo: Downplaying a threat does no good to anyone.

ForgeLordAleMaster: TELL THAT TO AN OSERAM.

Marshall Kotallo: I... believe I just did?

HIMBO: So, Aloy, what's Alva like?

FlameHairSavior: Inquisitive. Better with a bow than I expected. I think you'll like her.

ForgeLordAleMaster: AND YOU'RE GOING OUT THERE TO SOLVE ALL HER PROBLEMS AND BECOME HERO TO YET ANOTHER PEOPLE.

FlameHairSavior: What? No!

FlameHairSavior: I mean, she already got what she needed. Mostly, I think.

HIMBO: Was it because of you?

FlameHairSavior: I mean, I just helped translate a few files for her.

β: is this the part where we make bets i think im supposed to suggest a bet

FlameHairSavior: No.

ForgeLordAleMaster: YES!

β: then i bet all my shards that shes in love with aloy before the end of the mission

Marshall Kotallo: Hm, seems you have some fire in you after all. Very well, I'll take that bet.

FlameHairSavior: No! You're not allowed to bet on that sort of thing!

ForgeLordAleMaster: PRETTY SURE WE'RE ALLOWED TO BET ON ANYTHING.

ForgeLordAleMaster: I SHOWED YOU THE SPORTS, RIGHT? THE OLD ONES BET ON ALL SORTS OF STUPID SLAG.

FlameHairSavior: Beta, where did you even get money?

β: erend taught me to play machine strike

β: he is not very good

ForgeLordAleMaster: I LET HER WIN A FEW ROUNDS SO THAT I DIDN'T SCARE HER OFF.

β: no youre just not very good

ForgeLordAleMaster: DON'T YOU HAVE A GAIA BOX TO BUILD OR SOMETHING?

HIMBO: Erend, I never thought I'd say this, but I think you need an ale.

FlameHairSavior: This is going to be a long trip.

Chapter 14 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

#aloy #zo #horizon #varl #kotallo #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #erend vanguardsman #beta horizon #HZDBaseChat

[tirsynni]

BotW/TotK Hylian Royal Family meta ahead. 

These are my headcanons based on what I’ve seen from the games. Obviously, everyone has different thoughts on it. No bashing in it and possibly Rhoam-critical but not Zelda-critical. Just headcanons about how the role religion played in Royal Life pre-Calamity.

Also, I’ve barely touched AoC, so this meta is based more on BotW, TotK, OoT, MM, TP, and SS, with the full understanding that this is headcanon and no consistent canon on this matter exists and will never exist... not even between BotW and its direct sequel, TotK.

A major plot point in BotW is Zelda’s inability to connect with her powers. There is no indication that she can do the things Link takes for granted in BotW, like see the Koroks and dragons. I would be surprised if she could. She’s young, frustrated, and her father -- her only living parent -- is pressuring the hell out of her to connect with her powers. It’s clear in the flashback and in his journals that he isn’t acting like a parent and he’s aware of it. He’s acting like a king who knows that he needs a specific weapon and is given a rough rulebook on how to access the weapon. Per their history, Zelda has Goddess blood which gives her access to a weapon which can defeat this grand evil; her ancestor was able to activate it, so obviously Zelda should be able to do the same; Zelda is failing to activate the weapon which should be automatic to her per some ancient rulebooks. It’s unknown how detailed the guidelines for activating this power is or the King is just assuming that of course this is what Zelda needs to do to activate this power. I mean, it was 10k years ago (which seems insane to me, but whatever).

Here’s where more headcanons come into play. I think the power of the Goddess -- and honestly, pretty much everything spiritual -- is completely disconnected from the Royal Family in this era. Per their records, the last time the holy power was needed was a long time ago. I would be shocked if something else hadn’t happened in the meantime (seriously, it’s one hell of a time difference), but for them, the power of the Goddess Blood hasn’t been needed any time recently. Zelda has made it clear that she has no personal connection to it. Her drive is scientific. She has no internal motivation to be connected to the Goddesses. Her motivation to connect to her powers isn’t because she wants to connect to anything on a spiritual level. She wants the power to protect her people and, honestly, because she’s experiencing so much pressure and backlash. Again, per BotW (and TotK, really), we don’t see her do any of the spiritual/divine/extra stuff Link does. Link talks to multiple divine statues. He plays games with the Koroks. In the BotW flashbacks, she is happiest when she’s doing Science(!), and in TotK, she focuses on highly practical things with no stories (that I’ve seen so far) of her doing anything with a spiritual slant. Her focus is rebuilding a school, not rebuilding a church.

It makes sense, though! I think the Goddess Blood and its associated power is more academic than anything. They know Zelda has it. Hell, the Hylian Royal Family relies on that Bloodline to claim their divine right to rule. They know that the power of the Goddess was used by previous princesses to protect the family. With all that said, there is no indication in canon that it has any modern role in their lives. Hell, there is no indication that spirituality in general has any role in the lives of the Royal Family. It seems like the Goddess Blood has two primary roles pre-Calamity: to ensure Divine Right to Rule and to awaken to protect Hyrule from the Calamity. That’s it.

In at least one previous game, it was said that the Hylians’ ears were shaped that way in order to better hear the spirits and the like. We don’t know Link’s own abilities when it comes to this pre-Calamity. I personally enjoy the headcanon that he could hear and see far more than Zelda but didn’t want to say anything because it would hurt her. Would also match with the concept of “keeping his mouth shut helps keeps his ears open.” But there’s no strong evidence that spirituality or anything play a strong role in Hylian daily life pre-Calamity. It might have been something which was also lost through time. That is a major theme in many Zelda games: that important things, including connection with the divine, have been lost. The Zelda games love showing ancient, forgotten things, things whose stories can never fully be told again. The original stories are long lost, and all that exists in the BotW/TotK are modern interpretations, fairy tales, prophecies, etc. For further examples, see the Zonai Survey Teams and how they are excited about their discoveries but can’t connect to them in the way Link casually does.

I read a story once about how a pastor once invited an enthusiastic member of his congregation to lead a prayer one day. He didn’t ask her beforehand. She was always highly motivated, highly social, and a strong believer. He didn’t think anything of his request. It should have been fine! Instead, she walked up to the front of the congregation, stood there for a moment, burst into tears, and fled. Later, he discovered that while she was very religious, she was never taught how to pray. Prayer was a major part of their religion, and as such, it was expected that everyone automatically knew how to do it! Not so! He realized an important lesson that day and didn’t take it for granted again.

Prophecy and Divinity play a significant role in the Royal Family, but do they actually know what to do with it? Zelda is told to pray and she’s told to do it for a specific reason: unlock her powers so she can help defeat the Calamity. We never see the King pray or do anything religious at all. He obviously believes in the prophecies and such but doesn’t actively do anything himself: Hylia favors their family, Zelda has Goddess Blood, etc. etc. etc. Very matter-of-fact things. Nothing he needs to do, actually! Because according to the Prophecies, he just needs to make sure the players are in place! Actual knowledge and practice doesn’t come into play here. No actual internal spiritual beliefs: just practical applications.

So that’s my headcanon as to one of the reasons why Zelda struggled. Would knowing how to pray have helped in the end? Unknown. When her power eventually arose, she was still pretty disconnected from it. It seemed like in BotW and TotK that she never fully connected with it: just used it to fulfill her goal, which was stopping the Calamity from destroying her people. Maybe her daughter or granddaughter or whoever would connect with their spiritual heritage. Overall, King Rhoam, who had probably never really prayed a day in his life and had no real connection to Hylia himself, looked at his daughter, told her that the only way to awaken her powers was to pray, and never thought for a moment that if he didn’t know how to pray, how the fuck should she?

#meta #botw #totk #loz #not zelda bashing #i love me some scientist zelda #but really #she didn't want to pray #she wanted to see what happened #if link licked a frog #she would barely blink at a church #but would go nuts #over historical ruins #no idea if this makes sense #or if it is just rambling #but still #also makes me want to write #yet MORE AUs #sigh

[tobiasdrake]

A hopeless confrontation with a hopeless demon.

Quarble, he's too fast. I've tried to dodge and weave and watch for openings but he nails me every time. No matter what I do, it's like he's right there, waiting for me to do it. I can't get away from him.

"Look, man. This is just a job. I'm not your therapist. Figure it out or don't."

You really don't have any ideas? You don't know anything or... have any suggestions I can use here?

How am I supposed to beat this guy, Quarble? Eleven times. He's gutted me eleven times. Yeah, okay, lesson learned about underestimating people, but I've been trying really hard. Was I wrong to think I could actually do this?

Maybe he was right. Maybe I'm at my limit. Maybe... this is where my journey ends.

"...push... through...."

Did you say something, Quarble?

"Yeah, I said 'If I don't get any Time Shards soon I'm bailing. Have fun getting dissected again.'

No, there was something... like a flicker....

"Hallucinations may be an occasional side effect of being gruesomely butchered, revived, and butchered again repeatedly in a short time period. I say 'may be' because most people give up and accept the sweet embrace of death well before it ever gets to this point."

"It's a mistake to rely on speed alone; It's too easy to push through. I figured that out early in our training. Zale learned it shortly after."

We go through.

I've been letting this job get in my head. Trying to be more cautious. Trying to be mindful. But the answer was right there in the fable. I need to stop running.

Luana spent her whole life sparring with a Blade Dancer. It's a style eerily similar to Brugaves's new demon style. To the point that it almost seems like a cruel joke for Aephorul to forge him this way.

Nobody knew better than her how to counter that style. And she wrote it down. You don't run away from a Blade Dancer. You go through.

If he's too fast for you, then he may just as easily be too fast for himself. All you have to do is stand your ground and let him strike himself upon your weapon.

I've been getting in my own head. Worrying about stupid things like safety and protecting myself. When I should have been asking the obvious question from the start.

What would Luana do?

Hey! Goat-licker. Imagine selling out the people who love you so you can be the Acolytes' gofer. I can't even be vindictive about it 'cause having to live like this is punishment enough.

Sure, you used to have respect, admiration, kids looking up to you with stars in their eyes, and a dedicated life-partner who'd do anything for you. But you're right, kissing the foot of a four-headed butt-chugger every morning is just as fucking good, isn't it?

You're a coward and a fool, Barma'thazel. You were barely any good as a Solstice Warrior. And now you're a bottom-feeding parasite living in a hellhole, clinging desperately to the one gift his master graced him with.

The goddess forgot about you long ago. She's over you. And I'm done running from you. Because I'm better than you.

It's called crippling overspecialization, ass-weevil. You'd think a general of an armed forces would be able to grasp a concept as basic as that. But I guess you're just too slow.

Hold up. Do you mean that in the figurative sense? Like, we are all pieces in a larger game that cares nothing for winners and losers, and so in the grand scheme of things we are all doo--

NOPE LITERAL SENSE VERY LITERAL SENSE GODDAMMIT

SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK FUCK SHIT FUCK

WHY

WHY CAN'T I EVER JUST WIN SOMETHING

I LOOKED SO COOL BACK THERE

MY HAT WAS SET TO MAXIMUM AWESOME

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

YEEEEEEEEEES Holy shit, thank you prophesized Lifesaver. Wentworth, you are a sight for sore eyes.

...wait, what?

...

Errors have been made. You know, I thought you looked a little small to be the colossal dragon that Luana wrote about but I just figured she'd embellished.

In any case, THANK YOU DRAGON BESTIE WOO FUCKING HOO

Let's blow this shithole and go home!

*deep breath*

In your name.

#the messenger #drake plays the messenger