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smokesandsonatas · 9 months

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Theory and Analysis

The Legacy of the Shroud and Draconia Families: The Prodigy and the Miracle

I haven't posted anything in ages, but in the span of a day, I have caught up to everything happening in TWST. All I could say is -

Wow.

Should I miss or incorrectly put the lore, feel free to correct me.

Warning: Spoilers, long post, language, and crude humour.

Without further ado, let's get into the post. All credits belong to their owners.

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The Shroud clan

The Shrouds have been in existence for a really long time. Their ancestor was "appointed a Gatekeeper back in the age of gods and goddesses." Let's assume that was thousands of years ago. Due to this task of essentially keeping the balance in TWST World, Tartarus was built, and henceforth S.T.Y.X was 'formed' about 100 years ago.

Due to their long history, the Shrouds are rich, rivaling the Al-Asims in terms of wealth. According to Vil, they are a branch of Jupiter Enterprises. An influential conglomerate that essentially built Google Chrome, or maybe Facebook, and Amazon of TWST.

The Shrouds reside on the Island of Woe. It is not on any map, therefore it is completely hidden from the public due to the fact it is literally built under the sea.

For the secret organization, Lillia said that a legend goes like this, "When a wizard forgets themselves and succumbs to their own power, punishment from the Island of Woe shall befall them."

The Shrouds are tasked with such a heavy job that about a hundred years ago, they were cursed, preventing them from escaping their duties. This curse manifested in their flaming blue hair, burning off accumulated blot. But if there's no blot to burn, the curse instead eats their magical energy. That's why the Shrouds, especially Idia having inherited the curse from his father, must now be in constant close state of OB to survive.

Idia's grandmother, Aidne/Idone Shroud, is known to have this curse. Both her and her son, Mr. Shroud are using magical devices to combat it.

The Shroud Prodigy and Tragedy

Idia is a prodigy. Born a genius in the Island of Woe. As a child his intellect far surpasses the adult researchers at S.T.Y.X. With this impressive show of his potential, his fate is sealed: Idia will become the next head of the Shroud family.

Ortho's life is a tragedy. He was born, and then he died. Then he was reborn again as a humanoid robot that Idia created while in complete isolation for 2 years. Complete with the 'real' Ortho's memories, personality, and appearance.

This is Idia's way of coping with the guilt that consumes him. Blaming himself for his only brother's death.

Why wouldn't Mama and Papa Shroud do something about this?

I like to think that they did try to console Idia. From the looks of it, they do love their children equally. But they also have to grieve too. They also suffer the same guilt Idia feels because suddenly the portal that they're supposed to monitor as the Director and Chief Engineer of S.T.Y.X breaks open, resulting in the death of their younger son. [But I think Idia's unique magic has something to do with the incident.]

It is important to note that Mama and Papa Shroud treat 'Ortho' as their real child, not a replacement of their dead son. With the events ending in Ignihyde chapter, Ortho is on his way to becoming his own person.

Combining his brother's 'death', the responsibility of running S.T.Y.X in the future, the constant state of near OB just to stay alive, and the isolation made Idia the genius, foul-mouthed, introvert prodigy dorm leader of Ignihyde.

As of Diasomnia chapter, Papa and Mama Shroud, the Director and Chief Engineer of S.T.Y.X respectively, are trying to get in touch, or are now in touch, with Queen Maleficia, Malleus' grandmother.

The Draconia family

The Draconias are nocturnal fae, tracing back their long lineage to dragons. They all possibly have horns protruding from their heads. Their lifespans can go on for centuries. A Draconia will reach adulthood at the age of 1,000 years old. That lifespan is longer than the kind of fae like Lilia.

Simplified:

If Malleus reach 1,000 years old, he'll be only known as an adult Draconia, but for Lilia, 1,000 years is his whole lifespan.

In the current events of TWST, we only know 3 Draconias so far.

Queen Maleficia, Princess Mallenoire/Malenoa, and the only known male heir, Malleus.

Not much is known about them, except the current queen (has been for a long time) is Queen Malefecia, the grandmother. She adopted Lilia and Levan, the father of Malleus and Princess Malenoa's husband. The royalty in Briary Valley is complete with senators, dukes, royal guards, and is just basically a monarchy of faes.

The Draconias, and most fae creatures, reside in Briar Valley. There are forests that are pitch black, giving an advantage to nocturnal faes, like Lilia. It is also rich in magical minerals.

In Diasomnia chapter, Malleus put up a barrier of thorns that is going around or extending throughout Sage Island, essentially marking it as his domain, and everyone in this domain will remain asleep, dreaming. It is worth noting that Malleus is said to be one of the top strongest mages, as evidenced by this:

"S.T.Y.X. together with the Magical Force, and the Briar Valley’s royal family attempted to break into Malleus Draconia’s domain, but… "

"Neither physical nor magical attacks could make a dent."

"The thorns do not discriminate between humans and fae, and anyone attempting to enter just get sucked into the field."

Because he's a fae, he gets energy from his surroundings. Therefore if Malleus' keeps extending his barrier, he will get stronger. Heed that not even Queen Maleficia can get through the barrier her grandson had created. With this scenario, it effectively puts Malleus, a little bit stronger than her.

The Draconia Miracle

I contemplated saying the Draconian Miracle but either way is fine.

If we are to consider Malleus as a miracle manifest in itself, let's first look at the way he was born.

The prelude of Malleus' birth is chaos.

During or even before he emerged from his shell, Briar Valley is going through a fae-human war. Starting when the humans started populating and abusing the place. Note that their population started with only a small sailing ship, and throughout the years they multiplied.

Princess Mallenoire/Malenoa/Mallenoa is the mother of Malleus, and she, by far is the strongest defense of the land, as said by Lillia.

But before Malleus can even crack the shell, his mother is already gone. Going by the angst route, let's assume she died protecting her egg that houses her son.

Makes you wonder how brutal the fight must be to 'kill' a mother dragon protecting her only child.

Levan/Revern, a raven fae or a dragon duke in some sources, is his father. He is a diplomat of Briar Valley, therefore his task falls into making allies, not enemies.

Yet, he did not return.

It is presumed that he died in an ambush, or possibly has a new identity. If he is alive it is cruel for him to not come back to his unhatched son. I am not saying Crowley is Malleus' father but there's a chance that Crowley is related to the Draconias, in one way or another.

Now, why is Malleus considered a miracle?

Because he was born against all odds. His birth is a highly impossible event, yet it did happen.

Due to his parents' absence, this effectively made the hatching of Malleus uncertain. Dragon eggs can hatch within 2-3 years of laying if showered with love and cared for.

[ This part is taken from the accounts of Lilia's dream in the Diasomnia chapter, where Silver is also surprised by the huge gap of the war and the dragon heir's birth.]

Malleus' birth is delayed by 200 years, because he has no one to care for him. It is truly pitiful that even before his birth, Malleus is abandoned.

Why wouldn't Queen Maleficia love her unhatched grandson? Is her love and power not enough to hatch Malleus?

I bet she did, but she also has grieve the death of her only child. On top of that, she has to be strong because she's a queen of a country. Any sign of weakness can mean the humans threatening her or even one of the faes betraying them, putting her family and the nation in danger.

The thought of the Draconia bloodline ending with her likely filled her with depression. Also, Queen Maleficia is not Malleus birth mother, only his grandmother. So that is not enough for a dragon egg to hatch, since it needed the love from his birth parents. I like to think that this part is where Lilia, as his caretaker will come in. Lilia's loyalty to Draconias extended to Malleus, softening the heart of the war-torn general, enough that he had the sympathy to adopt a human child.

It took 200 long years for Malleus to emerge from his egg shell and when he did, Briar Valley celebrated his birth. Matter of fact, his birthday is a public holiday.

Defying the odds is another powerful instance why Malleus is born to be a king faes, the valley and the abyss.

The parallels between Idia (the prodigy) and Malleus (the miracle)

[Is it me or they both look good?!]

Both Malleus and Idia grew up in isolation.

Literally.

[Island of Woe and Briary Valley are two places in the middle of seven-knows-what. Anyway...!]

With Malleus as the only heir, and Idia as the first born, they both have huge responsibilities on their shoulders. We're talking about responsibilities scaling nations and the safety of huge populations.

Idia's childhood is tragic with the death of his brother. But we can argue that Malleus' childhood is tragic too, with the disappearance of his parents.

Malleus grew up isolated and protected in the castle. His only confidant for decades is Lilia, his caretaker. And even then, Malleus said that Lilia is prone to going away for long periods of time.

For Idia, his only companion for the 2 years he locked himself in his room is the prototype of Ortho that he's building.

Idia represents the uncanny future, and Malleus represents the eerie past.

Think of it this way, if you put Malleus in Island of Woe where everything is about technology, I bet he will say something about the importanc of the past and teleport back to his place.

If you put Idia in Briar Valley... man's not even going to survive the night. He will lament his poor WiFi connection.

They compliment each other well: One doesn't want to be approached and the other is unapproachable.

Both Idia and Malleus are some of the loneliest students in NRC. Idia doesn't have social cues, and Malleus... doesn't have good social cues either.

They're both so awkward when interacting with others it becomes endearing.

As awkward as they are, both are arrogant too. Every time Idia regards himself as the acting leader of S.T.Y.X and Malleus as the future king, sends a thrill or.pride to whoever can hear them. [Go forth children! Be the leaders of the TWST world.]

And they will be leaders. As heavy as the mantle of Shroud and Draconia is, Idia and Malleus will have no choose but to shoulder on. That's why I think the battle between (yuu), Idia along with NRC against Malleus will be tragically beautiful.

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Fun fact: Hades tried to ask Maleficent out in a date once, lol.

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There's a reason why all of a sudden the story of TWST started to become more serious in the Ignihyde chapter and just hit the fan in Diasomnia. Soon, were about to find out why.

Idia and Malleus are the complete opposite yet their existence compliments each other so well.

One is a keeper of the underworld, and the other the blessing of maleficence.

And then there's Yuu, trying to uncover the secrets of Twisted Wonderland.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #idia shroud #twst malleus #twst idia #ortho shroud #twst ortho #twisted wonderland analysis #twisted wonderland theory #diasomnia #ignihyde #mentions of #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #s h u #twst #disney twst

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indigovigilance · 7 months

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Tarot Symbolism in 1941

inspo: Three of Swords ask and answer by @embracing-the-ineffable

Okay guys this is outside my usual wheelhouse; I know just enough about tarot to be a nuisance. That said, once I saw the ask/answer above, I got to thinking about what other tarot symbolism might be in the S2E4 episode. "Nazi Zombie Flesheaters" was written by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, so it stands to reason this episode may contain unique elements not found elsewhere in the show.

I didn't analyze every suspect artifact, just the strong contenders. I'll demonstrate that whatever symbolism there may be directly pertains primarily to Aziraphale and to his relationship with Crowley. Below the cut we'll look at:

The Magician

The Chariot

Two of Coins

Ace of Coins

Three of Swords

Four of Swords

The Lovers

Two of Cups

Major Arcana

The Magician

First off may I just say that I am shocked and appalled that I have not come across a Fell the Marvelous magician tarot card. C'mon, artists of tumblr. Get it together.

This one is pretty obvious: Aziraphale is The Magician.

He has the ability to bridge the gap between heaven and earth and as such, he is capable of converting energy into matter.

The Magician is a card of manifestation: you want it so you make it happen. Aziraphale just grabbed this entire West End Stage situation by the horns and is steering it in the most ridiculous direction possible to show off for his knight in shining armor that just rescued him and his books.

Aziraphale manifests reality even when the miracle blocker is active: the bullet misses, and his notoriously unreliable sleight of hand works when he five-finger discounts Furfur's damning evidence.

Aziraphale is feeling his oats in this episode, and approaches every new challenge with the absolute and unwavering conviction that he can overcome it, and seemingly through sheer willpower, he does.

The magician is typically represented with all four symbols of power: a wand, a sword, a cup, and a coin (pentacle). This represents a high level of resourcefulness and adaptability, underlaid by the knowledge and skills necessary to deploy those tools.

The magician is a dangerous character, a boon to his allies and a threat to his enemies, but sometimes wields more power than wisdom. The magician has more ability to get what he wants than to necessarily know what is good for him.

The Chariot

This isn't symbolically referenced in 1941 per se but like I said, I have just enough knowledge of Tarot to be a nuisance and the symbolism was already there throughout the show so why not talk about it here.

This card depicts a black entity and a white entity (sometimes horses, sometimes sphynxes, depending on your deck) pulling a chariot. But the white thing and the black thing tend to be pulling in different directions, working against each other instead of with each other because they have different ideas about where the chariot they are both yoked to should be going:

It's rather inefficient.

And if that isn't a metaphor for Aziraphale and Crowley's influences on humanity and Earth, or the progress of their own relationship, I don't know what is.

But more generally, the Chariot represents the warring [internal] influences on the singular charioteer; their masculine and feminine aspects, their conscious and unconscious desires, etc. The message of the card is that the charioteer must define their goals so they can steer their powerful steeds in a single direction.

Much in this same way, Aziraphale [in the role of charioteer] is being pulled in opposite directions by his loyalty to Heaven and his conviction that Crowley is morally righteous. The challenge he faces is in unifying these beliefs.

The Magician & the Chariot

Where once there was one, now there are two; with the magician representing power and the chariot representing the unification of direction and purpose, the holistic effect is an incredibly powerful combination that can accomplish anything. Now that Crowley and Aziraphale have hitched themselves to the same cart, they will be unstoppable so long as they stick together and keep moving toward the same goal.

In the context of Aziraphale as the charioteer, however, the interpretation feels a bit more dire; there is great strength behind the forces that pull him in opposite directions, which now threaten to tear him in two. His ability to manifest has no clear direction.

Coins

Two of Coins (Pentacles)

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale presents a sixpence and a farthing in the palm of his hand as part of a magic trick.

The Two of Coins is generally depicted as a juggler; like the chariot, this represents unsteadiness and conflict that needs to be resolved. The juggler is juggling multiple influences, trying to find balance and struggling to prioritize. It can indicate he is not giving enough of his energy to his romantic partner.

Ace of Coins (Pentacles)

After Aziraphale recites the magic words (and again, shocked and appalled that no one has done a meta on "banana fish gorilla shoelace with a dash of nutmeg," I mean are we meta-analysts or aren't we?) and the farthing has vanished, symbolically resolving the tension of duality:

The Ace of Coins (Pentacles), in the context of romance, represents a fresh start with a person who will provide stability: a knight in shining armor who arrives and provides a sense of security. It can represent a new beginning or a strengthening bond within an existing relationship.

If you have been considering taking your relationship to the next level, [the ace of coins] can also serve as a good omen.

I'm not even kidding, that's a straight quote from the source text.

Two of Coins -> Ace of Coins

Within this magic trick we have a symbolic transition from relational instability to stability, from unresolved romantic tension to a fresh start and strong bonding. If the magic trick is representative of Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship, this transition is a sign that they are coming closer together and starting a new chapter of their romance.

Three of Swords

Taken directly from the inspo; in the magic shop, as they are discussing the bullet catch, Aziraphale is standing in front of the Excalibur chest. Three swords emerge from the right side, and appear to be piercing his spine. The most direct imagery correlation is with this version of the Three of Swords:

The Upright Three of Swords signifies a sudden and unexpected blow to your emotions. When you see this card in a reading, it often foretells the sudden loss of a loved one, the realization of betrayal, or the end of an important relationship with someone you loved very much.

This accurately represents how Aziraphale felt the last time they saw each other, following the holy water request in St. James' Park.

At the end of this scene, Aziraphale disavows their "fraternity" and stalks off in a huff. Crowley makes no attempt to stop him. Clearly, neither of them expected the conversation to go this way, and each feels betrayed by the other.

Three of Swords & The Magician

When this duo appears in a reading, a breakdown in communication is causing serious issues.

During the entirety of S2E4, Aziraphale rushes boldly forward without duly considering Crowley's objections; by the same token, Crowley is also not being honest about his limitations. The "serious issue" that this causes is Crowley almost shooting Aziraphale in the face, a situation they would not be in if Aziraphale had not been so bull-headed about performing a dangerous and unfamiliar show-stopping trick.

Their relationship has barely been rekindled and has not had time to heal from the damage done in St. James' Park; it is too fragile for them to speak honestly with each other, and Aziraphale, fired up by egoistic fervor, charges boldly ahead with minimal regard for the consequences.

Suffice to say, this is some on-the-nose symbolism.

Four of Swords

When Aziraphale shakes Crowley's hand, he brings his hand up uncomfortably high to chest height, which seems like an odd choice until you realize that he has to do that in order to get his hand lined up perfectly between the aperture of the camera and the sword that sticks up from the Excalibur Chest. The three swords still emerge from his back, so Aziraphale is now the focal point of four swords. Additionally, the arrangement of the swords is in keeping with the general depiction of the tarot card; one sword is in his control/possession, three are not.

The Four of Swords is a symbol of chaos. It warns the subject that they are overwhelmed, overstimulated, out of touch:

- Haven't you fired a gun before? - Not as such.

...and needs to retreat and rest.

In romance, it can indicate that a rocky relationship is stabilizing and returning to normal. But it can also portent new issues that will make or break the relationship. One way or another, it is indicative of relational stress that needs to be resolved.

Four of Swords & The Magician

The combination with the Magician foreshadows a long-term relationship in your future. The key interpretation of the Four of Swords in this combo is that building yourself as a person first will attract the right partner.

Aziraphale (the Magician in question) has a lot of self-work to do resolving his attitudes about Good and Evil in order to be a good partner for Crowley, but if he can do it, the Four of Swords symbolism in this scene is a positive portent for their relationship.

Three of Swords -> Four of Swords

The transition from the Three of Swords to Four of Swords seems to indicate that a relationship broken by bad communication is starting to heal; it is not completely repaired, and there is still work to be done, but they have taken the first step. But it may also indicate that Aziraphale has bitten off more than he can chew and has introduced chaos into the relationship in his attempt to repair it.

The Lovers

We can't talk about Tarot without talking about the Lovers. Well, we could, but I'd get a lot of comments about it. The romantic candlelit scene invokes an image of lovers, so I'm running with it.

This card is rich with relevant symbolism and deserves its own meta from anyone who wants to do it. I will only briefly discuss it here insofar as it is directly relevant to the S2E4 depiction of events that occurred in 1941.

The upright Lovers tarot card can imply that you have major life-changing choices or are faced with a dilemma. Temptation is often part of that choice or dilemma.

Aziraphale constantly oscillates between the side of Heaven and the Third Side, but the events at the church have swung the needle and imbued our angel with a renewed sense of allegiance to his demonic companion. But this only serves to make things more complicated; no sooner is the flame of romance reignited than Furfur shows up to threaten Crowley, using their association as evidence against him. Miraculous escape notwithstanding, the danger of the situation is apparent. Aziraphale is aware that he may soon have to make some tough choices about who's side he's really on.

Two of Cups

The Two of Cups tarot card is one of the most positive relationship cards in the deck. When you pull this card in a reading, it stands for harmony, togetherness, and working as a team to build a strong partnership.

The Two of Cups is arguably more about love than The Lovers. This card indicates that the subject is in a deeply intimate, supportive romantic relationship. It serves to confirm that they've found The One.

The Magician & Two of Cups

...your new lover won’t be someone new at all, but a friend you already know well.

With the combined symbolism of Fell the Marvelous and the two glasses of wine at the end of the night, we have some holistic tarot symbolism that these two friends that go back a long time are, well... soulmates.

IN SUMMARY

I have no idea how much Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, or by extension Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore, are into tarot, but it's a show about angels and demons and the episode features homoerotic magic tricks and Nazi zombies, so, you know... it wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've done to include some tarot symbolism.

This was a fun meta to write and if you enjoyed it please say so; if anyone would like me to do a deep dive into the Lovers card, let me know, and I'll put some energy into it the next time I feel like neglecting meatspace responsibilities.

If you enjoyed this meta, you may enjoy Why Aziraphale Wears Spectacles or, if you want to see my full catalog of metas, you can check out indigovigilance original content (metas)

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #tarot

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myminecraftfantasy · 4 days

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DSMP x Encanto AU

This AU is a mix of DSMP, Encanto, and Fantasy. DSMP for the characters, Encanto for the story, and Fantasy to tie the two together.

While this AU follows the same progression of the events in Encanto, details are reminiscent of Minecraft Fantasy stories, and the interactions happen accordingly to the DSMP characters’ personalities.

I wanted to added the fantasy element because I wanted to keep Philza’s wings and Techno’s pig theme somehow.

Characters Roles:

Main Characters:

Philza Minecraft starring as Alma Madrigal

Sapnap starring as Pepa Madrigal

Niki Nihachu starring as Juelieta Madrigal

Technoblade starring as Bruno Madrigal

Ranboo starring as Isabella Madrigal

Dream starring as Dolores Madrigal

Tubbo starring as Luisa Madrigal

Quackity starring as Camilo Madrigal

Tommyinnit starring as Mirabella Madrigal

Wilbur Soot starring as Antonio Madrigal

Other Characters:

Karl Jacobs starring as Felix Madrigal

Captain Puffy starring as Augustin Madrigal

Kristen starring as Abuelo Madrigal

Georgenotfound starring as Mariano Guzman

BadBoyHalo starring as Señora Guzman

Awesamdude, JackManifoldTV, and Hannahxxrose starring as those three people in the “we don’t talk about bruno song”

TinaKitten, AimseyTV, and Foolish Gamers starring as the three little kids

Timeline: The Beginning

Kristen was a famous and powerful knight captain who had just taken maternity leave. When the kingdom broke into civil war, she was ordered to return and lead the army.

However, Kristen had just given birth to triplets and refused to leave them. She and Phil ran away to their home village.

A couple months later, soldiers found and raided the village. Kristen and Phil evacuated as many villagers as possible.

Soldiers eventually caught up with them. Kristen valiantly fought them off, but then a soldier aimed at Phil, who was carrying their children.

Kristen took the hit for them. She died.

Philza cried out in anguish. The combination of these two sparked a miracle to happen. The flame of the candle he held exploded with magic. Mountains rose protectively around Philza and his people, a magic house rose in the center of the encanto, and a pair of giant feathered wings sprouted from his back

Ever since then, the descendants of the Minecraft family were blessed with magical gifts and manifested their animal spirits within.

To be continued…

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp au #philza minecraft #encanto #encanto au #dsmpxencanto #i left the minecraft fandom over a year ago #but i have a lot of au ideas that’s just been sitting in my notes #I don't even know what's going on in Minecraft or the fandom anymore #what's the deal with these trial chambers?#crossover

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edosianorchids901 · 9 months

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Tomorrow's Not the Same

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "ten years later"

Nothing made Crowley sadder than seeing Aziraphale cry.

His own life sucked half the time, sure. Constant surveillance, perpetual fear that he was gonna be tortured for a minor fuckup, and orders to observe the worst humanity had to offer. But he was used to that, could handle it through a combination of rage, creative thinking, and buckets of alcohol.

He never got used to seeing Aziraphale cry. It broke his heart every damn time.

Slowly, Crowley sank down on the park bench. Aziraphale sat in his usual spot, hands folded, head down. Slow, steady tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off his chin.

“Hey,” Crowley murmured, unsure what else to do. “You called?”

Lip wobbling, Aziraphale nodded. He didn’t look up, teary eyes firmly fixed on the path in front of them. “Y-yes. I’m sorry. I know it’s an imposition.”

“It’s definitely not an imposition. All part of the Arrangement, yeah?” Hesitant, Crowley edged a little closer, close enough that his arm bumped into Aziraphale’s. “So. What’s up?”

“Bullies,” Aziraphale said, and started to cry harder.

Oh shit. Crowley was awful at this, didn’t have the vaguest idea how to really comfort him. Demons weren’t hardwired for comfort, and thousands of years of constant danger made it loads harder to reach out. Demons weren’t supposed to be soft or gentle.

He patted Aziraphale’s arm awkwardly, chest tight. “M’ sorry. Had a review today, yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded and sobbed again. The brilliant glow of his warm, angelic presence dimmed with sorrow. If he had manifested his wings, they would be drooping. “I-I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t refer to the Archangels as bullies, but…”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone.” Crowley gave a reassuring smile even though Aziraphale wasn’t looking at him. “I’ll call ‘em worse things, how’s that? Massive fucking wankers, bastards who love feeling superior…”

“Crowley!” A smile tugged at Aziraphale’s lips for just a split second. “How dare you say such things?”

“How dare I indeed.” Crowley slid his hand down, nervous, and wrapped it around Aziraphale’s plump fingers. This really wasn’t demonic, but he had to do something. “Lemme guess. Gabriel was an arsehole?”

“You could say that. I-I mean, I can’t, but you could.” Aziraphale sniffled, turning his hand to hold Crowley’s. “It just all feels so hopeless. I used to hope things would get better, but…”

Crowley’s own reserves of hope had been at catastrophic lows, with Armageddon approaching. But anger burned through him, and he seized on it with relief. “They will get better. I promise, Aziraphale. Someday, it’s all gonna be better.”

Aziraphale gave him a skeptical look, holding onto his hand tighter. “I don’t see how. But I appreciate the attempt to cheer me up.”

---

Ten years later

“Crowley! We’re going to be late!”

Crowley pushed the blanket out of his face, blinking blearily. Aziraphale stood beside the bed, arms crossed, pouting. “Mmnnrghk?”

“You promised to take me out for a very nice walk today, remember?” The pout gave way to an annoyingly perky smile. Damn him for never sleeping and always being alert. “It’s getting a bit late in the morning, and I’ve got our picnic all together. So, up you get!”

Still beaming, Aziraphale poked Crowley in the ribs. Crowley snarled and slithered deeper under the blankets.

After being prodded a few more times, he gave up and flung the blankets back, then swatted Aziraphale’s hand away. “Nrgh, stoppit! Awake now, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.” Aziraphale swooped in and kissed his forehead, then seized his hand and pulled him out of bed. “Come along, now. No more dawdling!”

“Hrrng.” Still blinking sleepily, Crowley flicked a quick miracle at himself, exchanging his comfy sleep clothes for a more typical outfit. He looked around, bleary. “Where’s sunglasses?”

“With the picnic basket.” Aziraphale pulled him resolutely through their cottage to the kitchen, where he gave Crowley a pleading look. Crowley sighed, put his sunglasses on, and picked up the basket. “There, delightful! Ready?”

“No.”

Aziraphale pulled him outside anyway, and Crowley lost his battle against a smile. This was a little bit ruder than Aziraphale’s usual wake up calls, but the sheer amount of enthusiasm made up for the lack of snuggling and gentle coaxing towards consciousness. Maybe they could make up for the snuggling after the picnic.

Together, hand in hand, they strolled across the rolling green of the South Downs. Crowley’s lingering sleepiness warmed to a quiet contentment. No alarm bells going off inside his head, no worries about someone swooping down on them. Just him, his angel, and freedom.

“That looks like a good spot,” he said, pointing to one of the roughly two hundred picnic spots they frequented. “Sound good?”

Beside him, Aziraphale sobbed.

Alarmed, Crowley twisted towards him, immediately pulling him into a hug. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong!” Aziraphale nuzzled into his shoulder, arms locked tight around his waist. “That’s why I’m c-crying. I’m so happy, Crowley. I feel so lucky that we can have this life.”

The moment of panic faded, and Crowley brushed a kiss to Aziraphale’s head. “Me too.”

“And you were right, you know,” Aziraphale said, pressing even closer. “When you told me things would get better someday, I didn’t believe you. But you were right.”

Crowley smiled, his own tears welling. “’Course I was right. I made a promise.”

Crowley held his angel close, rocking him slowly as the emotions resonated between them. It was still hard to see Aziraphale cry. But these days, they were usually tears of happiness.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

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misirosekisiro · 6 months

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At the border 3-4

Chapter 3

Under the cloak of darkness, Eaka lay awake, reflecting on the events that had unfolded earlier tonight. Emotions swelled within him – a mixture of passion, excitement, and nervous anticipation. Despite the intensity of their encounters thus far, Eaka longed to push boundaries even further, seeking greater understanding of himself and his desires.

A smile graced his lips as he recalled the intimate moments spent with Komsan, their combined chemistry manifesting itself in breathtaking ways.

The very notion of transforming Komsan into a "skinsuit" filled him with unbridled euphoria, the promise of ultimate control tantamount to achieving enlightenment.

With determination etched deeply upon his brow, Eaka rose silently from his makeshift bed, careful not to disturb the slumbering form beside him. Moving cautiously through the dimly lit cabin, he made his way toward the herbs stored in a wooden crate near the entrance.

Fingers trembled slightly as he retrieved the packet containing the potent Miracle Herb. Glancing furtively about, ensuring they were still alone, Eaka carefully opened the packet, revealing the strange green leaves nestled inside. Holding the herb reverently, he allowed its essence to permeate his thoughts, visualizing the daydream scenario in vivid detail.

Slowly, Eaka reached over to his sleeping companion, placing the single leaf delicately between Komsan's lips. Unaware of what transpired, Komsan innocently chewed on the seemingly harmless plant.

Little did he know that within minutes, he would find himself transformed into a "skinsuit", helpless to defend against the invasion of his soul.

As the effects of the Miracle Herb took hold, Komsan felt a sudden wave of disorientation washing over him. His vision blurred, and his limbs became heavy, unable to support his weight anymore. Panic set in, realization dawning on him too late.

Komsan tried to struggle against the invisible force pulling him downward, but his muscles refused to cooperate. With a final, desperate cry, he collapsed to the floor, landing with a resounding thud.

Arms and legs flailing wildly, Komsan began to convulse violently, his entire body twitching spasmodically. The once-powerful figure writhed pathetically, reduced to nothing more than a weak shell of his former self.

As Komsan's body succumbed to the Miracle Herb's paralyzing effect, his bones and muscles slowly started melting away, turning into a viscous liquid substance.

What remained after this transformation process concluded wasn't entirely human—it looked like some sort of lifeless entity covered in the same uniform Eaka wore.

Eaka stood there, astonished by the spectacle unfolding before him. This phenomenon was beyond anything he could have imagined. Feeling emboldened by the sudden shift in dynamics, he moved closer to the prone form that used to be Komsan. Carefully prodding the lifeless "skinsuit" with a toe, Eaka marveled at how easily it yielded to his slight pressure.

Reassured by its lack of resistance, he leaned forward and grasped the waistband of the "skinsuit," pulling it towards him. Eaka remove all clothes form Komsan's skinsuit ,now appear nake, he pick skinsuit up.

Examining every curve and seam meticulously, Eaka inspected the garments thoroughly, committing their unique characteristics to memory. Noticing the absence of any zippers or fastenings, he realized just how ingenious the design truly was.

He noticed the large vertical opening which extended from the top of the shoulders down to the bottom hemline, providing ample space for easy accessibility. There was no need for cumbersome closures or buttons when donning this extraordinary attire. Simply step into it, and voila! One becomes the owner of the 'skinsuit'.

Eaka couldn't contain his excitement as he stripped off his own uniform piece by piece, methodically discarding each item until only his bare flesh remained. The air hung thick with anticipation, palpable with the electric charge generated by their newfound dynamic.

Stepping into the "skinsuit," Eaka savored the texture of the material brushing against his sensitive skin, delighting in the sensations it evoked.

As he pulled the suit up over his calf, he noted the familiar scent of the herb lingering within the fibers, reminding him of the power he held over Komsan. Each movement served to heighten his arousal, sending waves of ecstatic energy coursing through his veins.

His heart raced as he positioned his foot within the open end of the "skinsuit," feeling the gentle embrace of the fabric wrapping snugly around his lower leg. Every fiber seemed to whisper sweet nothings, promising complete submission to his will.

Now he see a flatten Komsan's skinsuit cock. He so excite to put his cock in.

Adjusting his stance, Eaka aligned his penis with the opening of the "skinsuit." Slowly, ever so gradually, he pushed forward, letting the tip of his erect member slide past the threshold separating reality from fantasy. As the warmth of the "skinsuit" caressed his shaft, Eaka closed his eyes, immersing himself fully in the experience.

Feeling the surge of power course through his veins, Eaka increased the pace, thrusting harder and faster. The sensation intensified, becoming an addictive rush of adrenaline pumping through his system. With each movement, he claimed ownership over Komsan's body, marking his territory in a manner previously unfathomable.

The thought of being able to inhabit Komsan's persona sent chills racing along his spine, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume everything in its wake.

Eaka pressed his hands against the interior walls of the "skinsuit," feeling the supple fabric molding itself to his touch. He traced intricate patterns across the surface, leaving behind a trail of erotic imprints that spoke volumes about the depths of his desire.

As he neared completion, Eaka paused momentarily, savoring the last few seconds of pure, undiluted power. Then, with a swift motion, he drew his head back and placed it firmly within the confines of the "skinsuit."

The instantaneous transformation was astounding.

Komsan's spirit seemed to dissolve effortlessly, merging with Eaka's psyche, leaving him utterly vulnerable beneath the "skinsuit."

Now, time to dress in Komsan's uniform. Start with his underwear. Last night during roleplay, they do not switch their underware.

But today, Eaka decided to try out the full uniform, starting with Komsan's underwear.

Remembering the powerful scent of his partner's worn undergarments, Eaka eagerly approached the bundle of clothing resting on the edge of the bed. Reaching out tentatively, he picked up the crimson bikini briefs, breathing in deeply through his nose.

The distinct fragrance hit him immediately, causing his nostrils to dilate involuntarily. A mix of perspiration, sex, and the earthiness of Komsan's natural odor filled his senses, eliciting a response unlike anything else he had experienced before.

This smell, this scent, was uniquely Komsan's. It represented the man whose presence had come to mean so much to him, the individual who shared his most intimate secrets and desires.

To possess such a profound connection with someone was rare indeed – and now, thanks to the magical properties of the Miracle Herb, Eaka could claim this bond for himself.

Wrapping the briefs around his waist, Eaka relished the feel of the soft cotton against his skin. The simple act of putting them on brought forth memories of their earlier encounters, stirring feelings of affection and lust alike.

For Eaka, these recollections served as a constant reminder of the incredible journey he had undertaken alongside Komsan.

Next came the dark green army t-shirt, another essential component of Komsan's signature look. Eaka gingerly lifted the garment from the pile, holding it close to his face, absorbing the rich aroma that radiated from the fabric. The combination of sweat, dirt, and masculinity intermingling together produced a mesmerizing concoction that left Eaka yearning for more.

With deliberate movements, he slipped the t-shirt over his head, luxuriating in the sensation of the rough fabric gliding smoothly against his skin. The subtle rustle of the material provided an auditory accompaniment to the symphony of sights, sounds, and smells surrounding him.

Eaka reveled in the tactile pleasure derived from donning Komsan's military attire, experiencing firsthand the comfort and confidence it instilled in those who wore it.

Each article of clothing bore traces of Komsan's essence, infusing the garments with an unmistakably personal touch. From the well-worn creases in the trousers to the faint whiff of gunpowder lingering in the pockets, every aspect of the ensemble told a tale of adventure and bravery.

As Eaka finished buttoning up the front of the tunic, he admired the crisp lines formed by the sharp angles of the uniform. The precise cut of the garment accentuated the muscular contours of his frame, highlighting the strength and determination inherent in his character.

For Eaka, the sight of Komsan's uniform brought forth a wave of reverential awe, mixed with a burning desire to become one with the man who had inspired such devotion.

However, as Eaka reached for the next piece of the puzzle – Komsan's long black socks – he hesitated briefly. These were not ordinary socks; they carried with them the indelible scent of sweaty feet, rubbed raw by countless hours spent traversing hostile terrain. Their disheveled appearance betrayed years of hard use, further adding to their appeal.

Despite the less-than-ideal state of the socks, Eaka knew that incorporating them into his ensemble would serve as a fitting homage to the man he sought to honor. Taking a deep breath, he gathered courage and proceeded to pull the socks onto his legs.

Despite the initial resistance, he persevered, wriggling his toes into the holes and slowly working his way upwards. As he did so, the strong aroma enveloped him once again, suffusing his entire being with an intensity that bordered on intoxicating.

It wasn't merely the physical aspects of the socks that captivated him—their history, the knowledge that they had accompanied Komsan throughout numerous battles and tribulations, contributed significantly to their irresistible charm.

As Eaka completed the final adjustments, ensuring the perfect fit, he marveled at how easily the essence of Komsan's soul seeped into every fiber of his attire.

In that very moment, Eaka felt an immense sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. Dressed entirely in Komsan's uniform, he stood tall, proudly surveying his surroundings, owning the image projected by the "skinsuit."

Every detail, every nuance, resonated within him, amplifying the intensity of his passion.

Last piece of food always most delicious. Eaka eye on army combat boots on the floor.

They have been used by Komsan many times but now they need cleaning because of muddy ground outside cabin. But Eaka decide to keep it just as it is, dirty and smelly. He want to remember what happened between them, and also, the smell excites him.

He carefully picks up the boots, bringing them closer to his face. The musty odor assaults his senses, a mixture of sweat, leather, and the earthiness of Komsan's unique scent. Eaka revels in the potency of the aroma, allowing it to fill his nostrils and send shivers down his spine.

The smell speaks volumes about the experiences Komsan had encountered, the challenges overcome, and the triumphs achieved. For Eaka, this scent serves as a testament to the extraordinary life led by the man he now embodies.

As he takes hold of the remaining pieces of tactical equipment scattered across the floor, Eaka feels a renewed sense of purpose. Each item represents a vital link in the chain connecting him to Komsan's world. Gripping the items tightly, he begins to secure them onto his newfound form.

First comes the belt, expertly crafted from durable materials designed to support heavy loads without compromising flexibility or comfort. Fastening it around his waist, Eaka appreciates the solidity of the buckle, knowing that it symbolizes resilience and adaptability.

The thick strap secures various tools and devices crucial to Komsan's work, reflecting the complexity of his occupation. As he slides the weighted magazine holder onto his thigh, Eaka acknowledges the significance of the objects contained therein: maps, documents, ammunition, all indispensable components in Komsan's line of duty.

Deliberately wrapping the utility knife sheath around his calf, Eaka mentally catalogues the myriad applications of the versatile blade.

Its dual nature – cutting edge for precision tasks and serrated side for sawing through obstacles – mirrors the multifaceted persona he now possesses. With a satisfied grunt, he fastens the holster securely, readying himself for any challenge that may arise.

As Eaka finally adds the communication device to his array of accessories, he stands back to assess his newly acquired ensemble. Every piece completes the picture, speaking volumes about the complex web of associations tied to Komsan's existence.

Now on the floor of the hut, left only a pile of his old life uniform. And Komsan's HK416 assault rifle that now become of new Komsan.

Holding it in his hands made Eaka feel powerful, ready to protect the people he cared about. Even though he never fired one, the mere possession of such a weapon gave him a feeling of invincibility.

Embracing its weight, he swung it effortlessly, getting acquainted with its balance and responsiveness.

Feeling confident in his ability to wield the firearm effectively should the situation demand it, Eaka set off towards the exit, leaving behind the tangled mess of his former self.

Outside, the forest seemed to whisper approval as he strode forward, each step reinforcing his resolve to embrace the path laid out before him. The air was cool and fresh, carrying with it the promise of endless possibilities.

His thoughts drifted to the future, imagining the countless scenarios he might encounter as New Komsan. The prospect of confronting adversaries, navigating treacherous terrains, and safeguarding innocents fueled his excitement.

Chapter 4

New Komsan sat atop the weathered tree stump, gazing upon the verdant landscape below with a profound sense of contentment. Despite the seemingly mundane setting, a certain electric charge coursed through his veins.

Surrounded by the lush foliage of the jungle, Komsan took solace in the fact that few human eyes ever ventured beyond this boundary, offering a haven where he could fully immerse himself in his fantasies.

Komsan walked briskly along the familiar trail, lost in thought as he relished the memories of past encounters with the land beneath his feet. This place held a special place in his heart, acting as both a sanctuary and an extension of his own psyche. Its vast expanse allowed him to let go of societal constraints and be true to himself.

Embarking on this journey, Komsan vowed to carve out a new destiny, free from the shackles of his tumultuous past. At the time he wear Komsan's skinsuit. He also recive old Komsan's memory with it. everything in Komsan life was inject to his memory. He start to travel on forest trial heading to his new or old home. A base of Border patrol unit. After hours of walk he finnally see it in his sight. He can see serveral soldier in uniform. Same uniform to himself. working around the base. some guarding, patroling. He can recall most of them, their name. since he got Komsan's memory. Some even Komsan's best friend. As he approch some of them notice him and run to him.

"Where have you been! noob! You make everyone worry! We try to contact but it's radio silent!"

"We think you may lost or worst!" another one add.

I don't know if you lost your damned mind or something serious happen? Where have you been?" asked his close friend.

Komsan didn't flinch nor break a sweat. "Well," he began, adopting an assertive tone befitting Komsan's demeanor, "my apologies for the concern, comrade.

"However, allow me to explain the circumstances surrounding my absence."

“I was stuck in heavy rain during a night patrol, and I got lost. It was too risky to attempt to head back to base in that situation. And my radio broke in an accident.”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the group as they realized that their fellow soldier hadn’t met with misfortune. They shared glances amongst themselves, nodding in understanding.

One of the soldiers spoke up, “So, you were basically stranded until you managed to find your way back?”

Komsan nodded solemnly, conveying the gravity of the situation. “Indeed,” he replied, his voice laced with conviction. “Fortunately, I was able to navigate my way back to our base after several hours of wandering aimlessly.”

Another soldier chimed in, expressing gratitude for Komsan's safe return. “Thank goodness you made it back unscathed. We were worried sick!”

Komsan offered a reassuring smile, acknowledging their concerns. “Don’t fret, friends.

From now on, I shall prioritize proper maintenance of my communications gear, to avoid such unfortunate incidents in the future.”

His words elicited chuckles among the assembled troops, lightening the tension slightly.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows over the bustling base. Komsan noticed a shift in the atmosphere as day transitioned to dusk. The humidity increased, making the sweaty uniform cling uncomfortably to his skin.

As darkness descended upon the military camp, faint murmurs emerged from the barracks nearby. Their voices blending together formed a hazy background symphony.

Slowly, the noise faded away, replaced by the rustling of leaves in the trees above and the distant howls of wild animals. Darkness settled over the once-busy base, shrouding it in a cloak of quietude. 

New Komsan lay alone on his cot, his thoughts spiraling into the depths of his past. Memories flooded his consciousness, intertwined with fragments of Old Komsan's experiences.

Old Komsan's love affairs flashed before his eyes, each encounter imbued with passion and intensity. There was a lingering tenderness in these remembrances, tempered by the knowledge that those relationships would remain forever entombed in the annals of history.

New Komsan closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The steady beat served as a soothing counterpoint to the chaotic whirlwind of emotions raging inside him. Gradually, his breath slowed, matching the gentle cadence of the forest creatures outside.

Closing his eyes, New Komsan surrendered to the welcoming embrace of sleep. Drowsiness enveloped him, guiding him deeper into the realm of dreams.

#identity theft #stolen identity #steal clothes #clothes stolen #gay #steal uniform #uniform stolen #uniform #male body suit #male bodysuit

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jadevalentine-writes · 4 months

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WIP Wednesday - Living in Sin - Chapter 7 Teaser

Tagging a few folks who may be interested: @subtlybrilliant @prommethium

After spending over six-thousand years with humanity, an immortal being could be expected to pick up a few favorite mortal activities along the way.

For Crowley, it was sleeping, drinking, and driving (though never the last two at the same time - but Hell got all of the credit for the deadly combination). For Aziraphale, it was eating, reading, listening to music on vinyl, and going to a barbershop when he could just as easily force his hair to stop growing.

Crowley also loved showering. It was an ingenious invention, one he wished he could have taken credit for, but the simulation of standing in the rain was so painfully human he could not in good conscience claim the idea as his own. It was bad enough Hell had tampered with the invention by creating low-water pressure and the scalding consequences of flushing a toilet while in use after Crowley had praised the invention.

Crowley had missed the large bathroom in his flat though not nearly as much as sleeping in a bed. It took him a full week of living above the bookshop before he remembered the flat even had a bathroom, hidden away as it was behind a closed door. One morning after pastries and caffeine, Crowley retreated upstairs to investigate.

The closed door made him nervous. Aziraphale had no use for a bathroom and Crowley feared what horrors would lay beyond. He grimaced as he pushed the door open gently but relaxed when the worst he was met with was a thick layer of dust and a long outdated style.

The large clawfoot tub he would keep, as he learned long ago that they were the only modern tub that could hold his lanky corporation. The only thing it needed was to be outfitted with a shower. Everything else would just need to be tweaked to his liking.

One solid snap and a century’s worth of dust dissolved. Cracked tile was replaced with smooth grey stone and peeled wallpaper was replaced with walls of green. A large copper shower head manifested over the center of the tub along with a full ringed curtain in black. The garish vanity lights dimmed to the warm glow of Edison bulbs.

Crowley sighed and shut the door. Dark and warm, like a garden he used to know. A perfect place to unwind, sometimes literally.

After purging the pipes of rust, Crowley set the temperature to just south of searing, stripped, and stepped inside. He let out a hiss of pleasure as the hot water cascaded down his back. He groaned as he dipped his head under the spray. As he rotated in and out of the spray, the only thing he missed was cold tile walls to lean against. He quite loved the temperature contrast in his old bathroom, but homeless demons could not be too particular.

Crowley stayed under the spray until the water started to cool. He could miracle the water hot for an eternity, but knew Aziraphale would not take kindly to the large bill. Reluctantly, he turned it off. He pulled back the curtain and miracled a fluffy black towel to dry himself off.

Crowley felt brand new, like he had just shed his skin after a couple of millenia. After hanging up the towel, he stretched in the lingering steam of the bathroom and sighed. A good night’s sleep, six shots of espresso coursing through his veins, and a boiling shower. He felt like he could perform a world-wide humanity-saving miracle and not even flinch.

Crowley sighed contentedly as he opened the bathroom door, the cool air of the flat hitting his still bare corporation. He always walked across his flat naked, from bathroom to bedroom. There was nothing worse than trying to shimmy into skinny jeans while being damp and the extra steps from one room to the other helped him dry fully. He didn’t think anything of it, because his flatmates were only ever plants, and they never so much as cocked a leaf in his direction when he was nude.

Of course, he did not consider that he now had a living, very angelic flatmate now.

#wip wednesday #living in sin

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kaesaaurelia · 6 months

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a choice between wrath and love

For @whumptober day 25, using the prompt "storm."

Continued from Day 6, wherein something is puppeting Aziraphale, and Crowley is being tortured, Day 9, wherein Crowley had come to the conclusion that no, that is almost certainly not Aziraphale, Day 11, wherein Crowley explained to not-Aziraphale why he was not Aziraphale, and unfortunately gave not-Aziraphale some ideas, Day 18, wherein not-Aziraphale acted on those ideas, and Day 22, when Aziraphale knocked the culprit out of his body and released a torrent of miraculous energy with Crowley's help.

Aziraphale cleaned himself and Crowley up with some of the excess miraculous power echoing through the interrogation room. He turned around and saw the Metatron lying dazed on the floor.

"How dare you," he said, approaching the so-called Voice of God, who was trying to scramble to his feet. Aziraphale manifested a sword -- not a flaming metal sword, but a sword made entirely of flame -- and advanced on the Metatron, the wild energies of his and Crowley's combined miracle echoing around him.

"You could have stopped it! Anyway, you wanted to do it, don't tell me you didn't -- "

"You were right about me, you know," said Aziraphale mildly. "I really haven't got any self-control. So self-indulgent. So many appetites." His pulse pounded in his ears as the miracle surged around him.

The Metatron got to Aziraphale's desk and tried to pull himself to his feet, but Aziraphale snapped at it. He'd meant it to vanish, but instead it dissolved into a mismatched flock of birds. Sparrows and crows and a very surprised crane scattered into the air, and two chickens fled on foot. "Gluttony and Lust are relatively harmless vices, though, or they were when I did them," said Aziraphale. "I never caused anyone else to starve, no matter how greedy I was, and until today, I never touched anyone who didn't want it. I certainly wouldn't have done that if you hadn't forced me. But Wrath's not like that at all."

"You can't --" The Metatron made a frightened outpouring of breath that he thought was meant to be a laugh. "Look, you can't just -- I'm the Voice of God, you're not seriously threatening me, are you? What makes you think you could even do anything to me?" He tried to do a miracle, but all he managed to do was manifest a wall of bubbles in front of himself.

They were very pretty, but they dissipated immediately. "Well, you seem to be frightened," said Aziraphale, "so I do think there's a good chance of that, yes."

"Look, just -- just think about this for a moment," said the Metatron. "Heaven and Hell could leave you alone, I could ensure it, all you'd have to do is --"

"And the world?" Aziraphale demanded. "What guarantee could you make for its safety? And why would I ever, ever believe you?"

And the Metatron had the absolute gall to look irritated. "Oh, don't be greedy, you can't expect me to go changing the whole universe around just because you want --"

Aziraphale kicked him in the ribs. "You are the one who tortured and raped my beloved while you made me watch, and I am the one with the sword. I believe I can expect a great deal more courtesy from you, whatever else you may or may not be able to provide." He raised his sword, ready to, if not necessarily kill the Metatron, turn him back into a floating disembodied head for quite a while.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley called.

Aziraphale turned to see that Crowley was floundering, sinking into Heaven's floor, and ran to scoop him up into his arms, dropping the sword. When he turned back around, he found that the Metatron was clutching the sword and just getting to his feet.

He sent a frantic miracle at the Metatron, trying to fasten his feet to the floor, but the last swirling vestiges of his and Crowley's miracle got in the way, and instead Aziraphale transformed one of the Metatron's shoes into a boot with an improbably high stiletto heel, and the other into some sort of robotic-looking metal thing, which did at least cause him to lose his balance. Not bothering to try and retrieve the sword, Aziraphale simply fled, clutching Crowley in his arms.

#whumptober2023 #no.25 #storm #fic #good omens #text #fiction #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #metatron good omens #kaesa op

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danzinora-switch · 1 year

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Westworld: What Could Have Been

My friend and I just finished season 4 and so this is my thought dump of a rewrite. Because they had so much potential they could have done with these characters and their themes that just didn’t happen.

Themes Westworld has been exploring: What is Consciousness? What is sentience? What does it mean to be human? What is the true difference between an AI/robot made in a human’s image and the ‘real thing’? Masters vs Servants. Control. Consent. Slavery. Power. How do we rise above our own nature? How can we live together without destroying everything?

My season 4 rewrite:

Point: Delores Abernathy. A version of Delores exists as Charlotte Hale. She is cold, she is controlling, she is cruel. She is everything Delores became over the course of the previous seasons. But something is missing.

Instead of “Christina” we have: TEDDY. He is living in this utopian new world. He’s the one that feels something is ‘off’. He wants to write a sweet story for Olympiad, and not one all about sex and violence. He sees the good, the beauty of this world. Teddy... is also a version of Delores. He is the amalgamation of all her goodness, of all her hope. He represents all the beauty that she sees in others and this world, and everything that is worth protecting and fighting for. Teddy was that for her when he was alive, and so it is his avatar that is manifested where she pools all of her hopes and fragility.

Charlotte Hale talks a lot about transcendence and moving beyond the ‘human body’... but transcendence will come for her once Teddy ‘wakes up’ and they REUNIFY. That is Plot A: Teddy waking up and realizing he is the Good Delores, storyteller of the city, and fighting to be free and whole. Charlotte is Bad Delores, deep down the dark path. The two coming together represents the whole of Delores (and humanity): reconciling with our dark side, embracing our inner child, walking with both to transcend our nature and be our fullest selves.

Plot B: this is not the only way forward. Instead of Nurse/Wife gal being married to Kaleb and raising a daughter, it’s MAEVE. After the events of season 3, they stay together, and (yes, in Blade Runner 2049-fashion) they conceive. It should be an impossibility. And yet, it happened. Frankie is the first true cyborg, both human, and both robot-kind. Maeve leaves to protect Kaleb and Frankie, but can’t stop reaching out for her daughter. When she finally does, Charlotte picks up on her and learns of this miracle and wants to destroy it (because it goes against everything of Our Kind vs Your Kind that she is set to control and destroy). She still wants them both, but Maeve ‘dies’ and Kaleb is captured, at which point he is subjected to experimentations in transplanting a human consciousness into a robot (because seriously? This Frankie child Shouldn’t Exist.). Her fly/parasite plan for controlling the rest of the humans still goes through in the meantime.

Frankie wants to find her mother in the desert, still hoping one day to save her father. She runs into Bernard, who still did his whole Sublime-Simulation thing on how to possibly save humanity and robot-kind. And the answer that he finds is that there are TWO paths, not one.

One path is reuniting Delores with herself - have her come to terms with her darkness and choose the light. To work to fix what she broke, and help all the others come to that same path. This may involve entering the Sublime for robots with multiple versions of themselves. This path is Transcendence.

The other is what Maeve and Kaleb have managed to do: combine both kinds into one new type of being. This could be the next step in evolution for both humankind and robots. This path is Progeny.

Bernard helps Frankie find Maeve and rebuild her. He helps her and the resistance rescue her father, too, but also plants the pieces to wake Teddy up to reunite with Charlotte so that Delores can return.

(Btw, all the faces ‘Teddy’ sees as he’s living and interacting in his simulated world are familiar faces from Westworld’s past).

(I do all this partly because pitting Maeve and Delores against each other has never worked, in my mind. They’re not diametrically opposed forces. They’re two strong women with different goals. So keep their goals different. Sometimes that will bring them into conflict, but it can also keep them together.)

I want Clementine to have more agency. She deserves it after so long. So I want her to help Frankie and the resistance after Maeve and Kaleb are defeated. She has been working as a double agent this whole time: pretending to help Charlotte and William, but secretly helping the free humans and Frankie. She chose her own destiny. (And with her friendship with Maeve, having her help save/raise her daughter I think is very fitting and sweet).

Now, the wrench in the plane: William’s host. The Man in the Black Hat. The Destroyer, the Cockroach. He is the Warning. He is the result when we refuse to change our nature, when we refuse to evolve. He has been down the path of darkness and hurt and suffering for so long, but his cynical worldview and nihilistic outlook will only get him so far: it only gets him death. If you can’t change your nature, if you refuse to change your ways, you get to a point where you can go no further. Charlotte/Bad Delores could so easily be him, so, so corrupted. But she does choose to change and accept herself fully and she transcends forward. William does not. He may be part living in a robot, but that doesn’t mean he’s changed. And so his way will still end in a bullet, in whatever form he takes.

Ending: Maeve, Kaleb, and Frankie are reunited (maybe Kaleb still dies, but after reuniting). Maeve can finally, at long last, raise her daughter, her ACTUAL daughter, not some story created for her. They work with the surviving humans and robots on the way forward, Progeny. Delores is transcended to her whole self, and works on building and protecting Legacy, for both humankind and robot kind. She moves into the Sublime, and works to undo the control imposed on a generation of humans and reuniting multiple versions of Westworld people. She is the historical storyteller. William is dead.

To actually survive, we need to change. Not just our nature, but ourselves. We have to evolve in culture and thought, not just genetics and code. And we need to choose how we evolve, not let someone else choose for us. Freedom is essential.

Westworld: What Could Have Been.

#westworld #tv series #i don't know what happened in the writing room #or what meddling from the producers or studio commenced #but there is/was a way to tie everything together #everything that made season 1 great #exciting and with twists #yet still bring these existential questions home #it would also help the show transition from its grimdark origins #to the increasingly popular hopepunk #which they tried to touch on #i want a story with a happy ending

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xxx-calibur · 8 months

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Not me thinking of Magical Boy Alibaba who instead of becoming a force for hope and justice abuses his powers, performing 'miracles' and essentially brainwashing others to become his loyal followers, minions, etc. He's got no great ambitions to take over or destroy the world either though if he wanted he could probably make a good run for it. No, he just uses it to live a life of selfish hedonism to have all the money, food and women he could ever want.

His powers are often incredibly potent on women, something he uses to his advantage when having to deal with pesky Magical Girls who come to try and deal with him.

It more or less functions by him being able to subtly influence the hearts and emotions of others through his words, able to pick up on social cues invisible to others and exploiting them, making him an incredible empath and skilled manipulator. Give him enough time and combine it with his silver tongue and naturally good looks, let him talk, and he'll have you wrapped around his finger before you even realize what happened. He calls it his "Casanova Perfume".

Aside from this, his powers are pretty much standard fair: beams, flight, magical weapon manifestation, etc, though he's proven to be exceptionally fast, his speed often outclassing most other Magical Girls/Boys.

#1001 nights of my life | casanova alibaba #in the name of the moon! | magical girl au #i blame minnie for this

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covenlegacy · 2 years

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Jin’s future spouse personality

Queen of Wands

2 Pentacles

The King of Wands

Energy and self-confidence. She is the definition of a bright charisma that combines friendliness, sincerity, perseverance, and the desire for success. She is able to have a strong influence on others, motivating, inspiring, calling for something. She knows perfectly well what to strive for and whose affairs usually unfold as she wishes. She is a generous, open soul, ready to share what she has. She inspires, inspires to feats, she is able to restore the will to life of someone in whom this fire has weakened and has begun to smoke. She does this without regret, without teaching, without compassion, but by communicating a direct volitional energy impulse, just as a torch is lit from a torch In the most classic manifestation of energies, this is a woman who unshakably represents the qualities that fill her (and in their pure form, these qualities are quite rare). This is an outspoken, passionate and effective woman who loves to manage and who cannot be "subdued" because she is driven by a purely masculine impulse (the element of fire). She is freedom-loving, brave and will not allow anyone to decide how she should live. This is an Amazon that does not get lost under any circumstances, only sometimes suffering from a lack of endurance in stressful situations. She is resolute and generous, strong and noble, brave and cheerful, has firm convictions and her personal human honesty and honor are important to her. This is a Person with a capital letter, with a developed self–consciousness and a solid and firm character that does not accept distortions and turbidity, where cunning, pettiness and cunning find shelter. She is characterized by chastity in the true sense of the word – the absence of confusion and vacillation in a decision-making situation, she remains in agreement with her beliefs. Flexibility, dexterity, efficiency and enterprise, the ability to adapt. Her gift and lesson is the ability to enjoy life under any circumstances (whether it's straining with time or money), to philosophically perceive what is happening, without a thoughtful melancholy, to look at many things through your fingers, without taking anything to heart. She is a cheerful person with no signs of dejection, who effortlessly copes with life's difficulties (and, to use the slang of this day, is not inclined to "load up" and "fool around"). The art of living as one lives, and let everything take its course. A surge of strength, energy, fun, liveliness, cheerfulness, lightness of heart. Maybe carelessness and carelessness – we dance to the tune of our desires, but we enjoy life. Leadership qualities, will, love of life and passion are her main qualities. Courage, independence and responsibility are attached. It is also associated with a firm position, dignity and strength. She is absolutely independent and lives with full internal responsibility for her decisive actions. She is not so naive as to believe that she can completely control the flow of life. He recognizes the superiority and guiding will of Rock. At the same time, she insists on her ability to behave as consciously and responsibly as possible in this flow, whatever it may be. She's at sea, yes, but she's the captain. For her, it does not matter where she comes from – it is much more important where she is going. She is extremely intelligent. An active politician, a successful entrepreneur, a born leader, leader and leader. She is happy with her situation and easily copes with it. She is able to inspire others by inspiring them with colossal ideas. She is a brilliant strategist, but this is an inspired and creative strategy, not a dry calculation in its purest form. She is a strong natural magician, she has an excellent flair, intuition on the verge of a miracle, and is able to captivate many people and lead them along, literally in the flow of her libido. This is a person who has achieved a lot, who knows how to soberly assess his capabilities and knows exactly what his efforts will lead to.

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mrapplethorn · 9 months

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Artificers that don’t use tech

One of the classes of which it doesn’t always feel like it belongs in your (or the adventure’s) world is the Artificer. Its name does not imply that though, we all know the Artificer in Dungeons and Dragons is a person that combines steampunk-esque contraptions with the magic found in most D&D worlds. An Artificer should be, according to the word’s description, a trickster or an immoral craftsman of clever devices. Confining this description to a person that uses metal contraptions to cast spells feels a bit shallow, so here are a few ideas you can use to build your next Artificer.

Art by Kris Theorin (left) and Lily Abdullina (right)

The Gingerbread Man’s Baker

Battle Smith Artificer – Cook’s Utensils

Delirious Barnsforth started out as a simple cook, working for a local noble family. Wanting more out of life, he accidently poisoned the lord and lady of the house. He fled into the forest where he met a benevolent Hag. She gave him shelter and taught him the basics of spellcasting. Delirious showed some affinity for the arcane arts, but he lacked in creativity.

Only after he discovered that there was a way to combine spellcasting with cooking did he really become a force to be reckoned with. His first ‘Steel Defender’ was a blob of dough that he somehow managed to trap a fey spirit in. These days he is known for bringing to life the famous Gingerbread Man.

How to play him

If you have spent one second on the internet, you know there are people on there that love to correct everyone that says Frankenstein when they mean Frankenstein’s Monster. Likewise, Delirious also corrects anyone that calls him anything but The Gingerbread Man’s Baker.

Every spell Baker Barnsforth casts is somehow shaped like a cook’s utensil, food, or other items you’d find in a kitchen.

Delirious, as an Artificer with the Battle Smith subclass, has a steel defender, although his is not made of steel but of dough, and in the shape of his oh-so-famous Gingerbread Man.

Art by Marcin Kulesza (left) and Dan Dossantos (right)

The Tatted Artificer

Armorer Artificer – Painter’s Supplies

Born without a shred of magic in her bones, Diana Jones studied to become an archeologist. Her interests also lied with art and painting, tattooing in particular. So, when she stumbled upon a mysterious dark fluid within a buried temple her first thought was to test it on her skin.

How to play her

Every feature, feat, spell, and ability of the Tatted Artificer is represented by a tattoo on her body. As shown in the image the spell Shadow Blade could manifest as a set of removable scimitar tattoos on your characters back.

The armor she would need to wear to gain her subclass abilities has taken the form of tattoos also.

If you play in a campaign where money has a prominent place, You and your DM have to agree on some things. Armor is a big aspect of the Armorer Artificer. Something we just replaced with tattoos. The easiest step is to keep the cost of an armor improvement but let it technically be an added tattoo.

Art by Alejandro García

The Snake Oil Salesman

High Elf Alchemist Artificer

Smoke billows from their workshop. The Healer of Harkonen goes by many names. But most people know them as Dietrich the Knife-eared Snake oil Salesman. Tall tales of their past are whispered in taverns. They speak of an elf who brought down the destruction of an ancient city with their disease-spreading elixirs. What the stories leave out however is that this simple alchemist does not work alone. They and their twin have travelled the world, fought beasts, and harvested magical components. Now they run a shop that sells miracle potions, miracle in the fact that you will never truly know what happens when drinking them.

How to play them

Dietrich or their sibling do not contribute to a fight with their physical skills. Their spells take on the form of potions, salves, and other concoctions. A fireball for example could be akin to a Molotov Cocktail.

Art by Oleksandr Kozachenko (left) and Victor Titov (right)

The Woodsman

Plasmoid/Reborn Artillerist Artificer

Once a man, the creature now only known as the Woodsman, is a hulking green figure. Raised as an orphan in a Druid Circle, his past is not well documented. His abilities are druid-like but also very alien to them. The forest is his home and the object of his protection. When provoked he breaks of pieces of himself that can act on their own and can only be described as vinelike cannons.

How to play him

The Woodsman has a lot in common with the Oath of the Ancients Paladin, you could even use the tenets of this subclass to guide you in your actions.

The spells the Woodsman casts all thematically link back to his plant-based nature.

#dnd #dnd character idea #artificer #dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons

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elreed · 2 years

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ALRIGHTY SO remember this post I made last night? The one about the Cookie Run and Ultraman au? Well with the reveal of the next Ovenbreak update, I thought I’d give an idea for stuff involving My Child™️ Lilybell and just general information on how the au works.

So as for how the AU works:

Earth and Earthbread do exist simultaneously. Earth is pretty much a combination of all of the major earths in the Ultra Multiverse (minus the radically different ones like Superior or Shin), and Earthbread is a mix of Kingdom and Ovenbreak Earthbread, just to give me as much to play with as possible. The Land Of Light remains practically unchanged from the universes it actually exists in, so not much to go over there. The Ultra Brothers of this universe is pretty much the Superior roster (Ripia, Seven, Jack, Ace, Tiga, Dyna, Gaia, Mebius) + Taro, Leo, Astra, and 80. The Ancients of Earthbread remain the same, aside from the small detail of White Lily and Dark Enchantress being separate beings, with Dark Enchantress being a manifestation of Lily’s dark impulses that manifested after her dunk in the Ultimate Dough.

Now for a bit of my plans for Lilybell (+ a story idea)

The Ancients have gone missing for the first time since the defeat of Dark Enchantress. The Land Of Light, fearing for the safety of each of the ancients young children/descendants, send a member of the ultra brothers to protect them (Ripia, Ace, Gaia, 80, and Mebius). Ripia with Dark Choco, Ace with Princess and Tiger Lily, Gaia with Custard III, 80 with Mozzarella (Golden Cheese’s kid), and Mebius (the story’s main character) with Lilybell. They all end up using them as hosts, but Mebius in particular takes a liking to Lilybell (in a parent/child sort of way).

So what caused the ancients to go missing? Well, it’s actually Grimdo! But not just normal Grimdo, no! It is now Ultimate Grimdo (see what I did there?), and it’s using White Lily as a conduit, much like it did to Tregear back then. So Mebius gains a new form via the power of the Miracle Lights ancients bond with their descendants (Mebius Ancient Infinity, as a spin on Mebius Infinity from his original movie) and he blasts away Ultimate Grimdo and everything’s okay! But! The residual energy from Grimdo bonding with White Lily brought back a certain evil from the past…

Yeah that’s all for this post have funnnnn

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syndianites · 2 years

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I desperately want to know more about your Peacock!Chloe AU

The Miracle Queen one, right?

Thank you for your patience on the ask, I alway forget about my inbox!

So the idea behind it is that Hawkmoth wants to see if the effects of a damaged miraculous are counteracted by being akumatized (with the idea that the miraculous would leech power from the akumatization instead of the person)

So he decides to give Chloe the Peacock instead of the Bee. She turns into Mayura and being akumatized increases the affect of the miraculous’ damage rather than negate it, which manifests in amoks draining people of their energy.

Chloe, of course, doesn’t care enough to stop or notice that it’s also taking a toll on /her/ too. Her first amok comes from her emotions and is made from the miracle box itself, which is a being that hunts down people who have used miraculous in the past. Using it, she chases down people and makes amoks out of the emotions of different holders, which incapacitates them as they can’t stand the drain from the Peacock without wearing a miraculous to protect them.

The Miracle Queen episode essentially goes the same except for two things: The identities of the other holders aren’t revealed (and Chloe can only vaguely recall who some of them might be, since her mind was put under a lot of stress from the akuma and peacock combined) and Hawkmoth DOESNT get the peacock back- but neither does Ladybug.

Rather, when Ladybug is made the guardian the amok in the miracle box breaks due to it changing, but it isn’t purified. Because the amok breaks it causes backlash in the already broken peacock and causes it to freak out. The akuma is spat out of it, almost completely drained of energy, and the miraculous starts to burn Chloe. Without the akuma, the drain is suddenly unbearable and Chloe rips the miraculous off without thinking, throwing it away blindly.

It ends of in the river, before it warps the water around it and seems to vanish.

Hawkmoth is defeated, Fu has amnesia, and Ladybug is staring down an exhausted Chloe.

Canon proceeds as normal except Chloe is withdrawn and distant. She still lashes out at people but it lacks heat, just a cold, icy sort of flare.

When Chloe snaps it’s like a sheet of ice encases her body. She feels numb and empty and hardly recognizes herself in the mirror. It isn’t until she runs off and tries her best to disappear that she realizes she can only see herself as Mayura, the failed Queen in Blue. So she dyed her hair and cuts it short. Changes her meager wardrobe to a sea of purples, greens, and blues.

She WANTS to be Mayura again even though she knows it will just hurt her more.

She still has a faint bond to the miraculous, can taste the emotions of others as she walks by them. So she begins her search for the peacock, often seen skulking alongside the Seine.

Her eventual turn around and ‘redemption’ would come as she pieces through dreams she has of the Miracle Queen event. She would come face to face with herself and realize she doesn’t really want to be /Mayura/ but someone new. Slowly, she starts to see Duusu in her dreams and connects to the maddened Kwami over time. It isn’t until she comes to terms with who she was, what she’s done, and how she wants to atone and be someone better that she wakes with the miraculous in her hands. It reacted to her emotion and returned.

Still damaged, but safe.

And, of course, what better way to atone than to fight hawkmoth? Every akuma attack she sends out amoks to help. Ladybug tries to figure out where they are coming from and who is sending them, but Chloe is still MIA and there’s no other leads. Instead, she pleads with the amoks- in hopes to get through to the Peacock wielder- that the miraculous is broken and is dangerous.

Chloe never responds.

But she also isn’t Mayura anymore. She takes on a new name- Lapis Royale

#chloe bourgeois #miraculous ladybug #ml #peacock!Chloe #Queen of Blue AU #QoB AU #miracle Queen AU

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