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yellowcry · 28 days

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(Some of) Worship Madrigals family meet Isabela and Mirabel for the first time

Pepa hesitated, seeing two girls. At first she thought that she had hallucinated. The older one visibly reminded Pepa of her mother in her youth. The little one looked like her sister. Just what the heck was going on?

The older girl bit her lip, pulling the other one closer. "Is... Is it Encanto?"

Pepa nodded, feeling the wind growling from her worry. Whoever they were, it wasn't normal. Encanto almost never had visitors.

"Is the Madrigal family here?" She looked unsure, more like telling about a distant memory.

The young mama could get into Pepa's daughters considering her age. And her defence over the other girl was rather sweet. Pepa nodded. "We are, I am Pepa."

The older girl blinked several times, scrolling through some memories. She counted on her fingers, muttering something to herself. "Tía?" She breathed out, looking up into Pepa's eyes.

It took a moment for her to realize. Pepa's world froze. Tía. A girl who looked really simular to her Mama asked about the Madrigal family. A girl who held another child wrapped in vines. Too similar to Julieta. Too close in genes.

"Isabela?" Pepa gasped, feeling the rain pouring down. She couldn't believe it. It had to be a dream. It's been twelve years. "Mirabel?"

Mirabel shifted uncomfortably. Isabela nodded, still shaken.

Pepa expected to wake up any moment now. It had to be a dream. It couldn't happen in reality. Tears ran down her face as she pulled her sobrinas close. She held them, crying in fear. Because she couldn't imagine to lose them ever again. They had lost all hope of finding them both. And now they stood here. Both grew so much. Rain showered all over them. Pepa had no idea why she was crying. But the weather was the least concern now

***

Julieta had noticed rainclouds on the edge if Encanto. What had made Pepa sad? She looked here, worried, keeping her workpace.

It took a while before Pepa rushed to her, holding two girls by the hand. Julieta's heart pinched. The girls looked familiar. Not in a normal sense of physical features. But on a deeper level.

Pepa smiled, rainbow flashed over her head. "Juli, your girls, they are..."

Julieta gasped, tears welled up in her eyes. Isabela? Mirabel? No, no, it must be a dream.

All those years, she prayed for her babies to come home, to be alive. Now, they stood in here. After all this time.

Isabela grew so much, now an adult. The childish innocence was gone. Now a mature woman. And there was Mirabel. Her baby girl who went missing so young that Julieta never had a chance to see her getting out of the infant stage. See her first steps. Help her with her school, see her personality.

***

Luisa was attracted by the noise. Just near Mama's food stand a crowd peeked interested as Julieta and Pepa were crying with two strangers. Luisa bit her lip, pushing herself closer.

"Mama?" She asked unsurely, leaning down.

Julieta waved to the new girls. (Why were they so similar to Abuela and Mama?) "Luisa, your sisters had return."

Luisa stepped back in disbelief. She could swear she hallucinated. Because there was no way... It just couldn't be. Luisa had probably dreamt.

Her hermanas were here in front of her eyes, made out of flesh and bones. Alive, here. Home...

With height over one hundred ninety centimeters and inhuman strength, Luisa could easily scoop them both. One arm got each. Julieta gasped, being pushed away.

Isabela gasped for breathe, struggling against way too tight hug. It was Luisa? What the heck? When did she... She was five! (It was when they were kidnapped so she probably wasn't anymore, but this fact was too hard to accept)

Luisa sobbed, almost throwing her sisters over her shoulders. "I missed you!"

There was no words to explain it. How long she cried, asking for them to come home. She spent years, begging for her sister to be back, claiming that she would give up her gift if only Isa and Mira would return. And she sertanly wasn't going to let them go ever again.

#encanto #worship au #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #julieta madrigal #luisa madrigal #pepa madrigal #fanfic

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auideas · 8 months

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How come your gods only get credit when something good happens?

The Never Book

#admin m #the never book #god au #goddess au #worship au #religion au #religious au #writeblr #writing prompt #writing inspiration #writing inspo #writing idea #writing concept #fic inspo #story inspo #story idea #prompt #idea

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give-grian-rights · 2 years

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i started writing more Worship AU ! when i finish another chapter i'll drop another. I have four-five more still on the back burner. i might try to come up with SOME sort of schedule? it depends on the motivation i have for writing

when i get the next chapter out, i'll make a post with all the fan art <33

bribery only gives results to fic updates if its not the DAY AFTER the fic dropped /lh but i have a few asks and mentions of me with some art, so i'll post and share them all soon

i'm having a lot of health shit going on and just haven't had motivation, but the brainrot for all of mcyt is still Real . socialization and writing, less so

#i've been playing modded minecraft....missing out on my smp.... just #getting minecraft wives #worship au #update #mika-posts

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cherrywoodaxe · 1 year

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god complex out of hand

#art #naruto #shikamaru #worship au

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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I want to see characters being taken care of in an explicit and worshipful way. Home-cooked meals. Hair brushed and braided by gentle hands. Little gifts just because.

I want to read about characters who are not used to kindness being bombarded by acts of service. This trope works romantically and platonically. Give me found family and acts of service - all the ways a character is wrapped up in wordless, explicit care after years of cruelty and having no idea how to handle. I need it.

#fanfiction #this is the 'comfort' part of hurt/comfort #but i want to take it to the extreme honestly #not just comfort immediately after a traumatic event #but consonant daily comfort!#being taken care of because you are loved always and unconditionally #this is the real reason why i sometimes read sugar daddy AUs even though i don't like them #i want to read about characters being SPOILED #this is also why i love the mdzs love interests so much #luo binghe is the ultimate worshipful house husband and i love that #my posts #you can tell i'm irrationally tired when i start getting tear-eyed over someone being cooked a meal

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months

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"See you tomorrow"

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 4 [prev parts]

#better drawn mdzs #MDZS Disco Elysium AU #mdzs au #Lan wangji #wei wuxian #yiling laozu #Happy Belated Halloween!#digital art #Thank you all for your patience as I drove myself into a madness only known by those lost at seas alone.#I put a lot of time into this one! It's not perfect but I am very happy with it + I am so happy to put down the tablet pen.#Digital art has some nice features but I'm sticking with traditional! I need a month to recover from the 2+ weeks of torture.#Okay lets talk about the AU and the comic now #Disco elysium has some of the best existential-horror-dream sequences I have ever seen.#The dialogue here is heavily inspired by The Final Dream - A scene I'd love to talk about more were it not so heavy with spoilers.#My AU is a lot more complex than a simple character swap but I really felt like LWJ + YLLZ fit this scene.#The final dream is about being unable to move on from a lost love. From something You made holy. From something You ruined.#It is about realizing that no matter how smart you are or what you offer or how you try to change -#You will never be able to turn back time. You will never ever be able to fix what is broken. That you also have been broken for a long time #You are a fuck-up who worships the nail covered ground of someone who did not want to be holy. And even though it hurts-#You cannot let this nightmare go. The pain keeps the love close. It is worse to forget. You promised to remember.#WWX died thinking LWJ disliked him. LWJ lost someone he thought was revolted by his love.

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eyesthecolorofarson · 3 months

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DpxDc demon twins AU where Danny is basically fishingarret on YouTube. If you haven’t seen him he’s this psychopath of a man that walks barefoot in Florida and other dangerous places like Australia and the Amazon and removing invasive species. He does this by picking them up with his bare hands. This man feels so fear. He willingly poked a wasp nest. He tackled a 15ft python. And every time he picks something up he says yoink. Danny ‘already dead’ Fenton being left in Florida instead of Ohio

#demon twin au #Danny Fenton is Damian Wayne’s twin #Just imagine #you find out your slightly psychotic mother abandons your twin in Florida #And the first thing you know about him is that he’s equally insane just in a different way #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #If you worship this patron god of nature you too can be blessed with the camera man’s immortality #Go and subscribe to fishingarret!!!!!

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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years later someone buys the plot, turns on the lights and is suddenly worshipped as a sun god by a bunch of puppets falling apart at the seams

pov you break into the spooky abandoned Playfellow Studios building for shits and giggles

#lore tidbit! the plot is not available for purchase #the building is only Technically abandoned. its still very much Owned private property!#actually ive been thinking about the Other side of this au. the people's perspective #cause in this au at least they all Knew the puppets were alive #many employees - especially the ones working 'closest' to the puppets - put up a huge fight when the show got canceled #but it was either Disassemble (kill) Them or Lock Them Away #and honestly? killing the neighbors would've been somewhat of a mercy #but the employees had no way of knowing just how Bad things would get #wh lights out au #scribble salad #and i mean. the building's electricity bill remains paid.#the employees that felt really bad kept it paid over the years - devoting a bit of their income each to it #thinking the puppets would a) be awake & b) be able to figure it out #yeah that's actually a lil fun tragic tidbit as well - if any of the puppets had found the breaker....#or found it and Messed with it a lil... flipped the right switch...#they would've gotten the lights back on no problem #but yeah anyway ive been Thinking about the employees' side of things a lot #might tie that in with act two. it'd make sense considering the shit that happens #well either they'd help the puppets out or they'd get shoved into one of the sinkholes by barnaby. so.#bc if we're talkin seriously here. the puppets are more likely to kill a person than worship them for any reason #they'd go full 'THREAT!! THREAT!! ELIMINATE THE THREAT!!! WE'RE NOT LOSING ANYONE ELSE!!!' mode

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ghouljams · 2 months

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ANOTHER FASHION HISTORY NERD!!! YOU MAKE ME CRY TEARS OF JOY!!!

I hate seeing a period piece and then: ‘he pulled her panties down’ it gives me the ick… pantaletts are a sexy concept! Just get through all the ribbon, silk and lace of her skirts? There’s no barrier, it’s sexy! It’s like crotchless panties but, better… idk why it’s better but, it is.

(I love those novels!!! ‘titillate’ is a funny word and very accurate to use as a descriptor. It feels like a cross between giggly and turned on, y’know?)

Lord Mactavish is so *sigh* … just picturing him in any way shape or form… when they’re actually married he takes her (us) back to his mansion? Chasing her through the manor house; through the winding halls… taking her (us) against the carpet until your knees are covered in rug burn. (I picture the massive mansion from the secret garden)

(Servants are scared to roam at night. It’s too awkward to look your lord and lady in they eye after seeing that)

When you go to get your dresses for the season, he comes with. “Leave extra room- need to alter it for her pregnancy soon.” You’re not pregnant. He intends to fix that and parade you around at every gala.

On god I am staring at period undergarments just to make sure I'm not misremembering when pantaletts became a thing lol. They weren't popular during the regency period so we can just pull the skirts up (drool) It's so much better than crotch-less panties you're right.

You're fucking doing something to me... Lord Mactavish parading you around at every gala, he knows full well that not everyone thinks it's proper to have you out and about when you're showing, he also knows that he's supposed to be using euphamisms. He still settles a hand on your stomach and proudly announces that his wife is "bred just like she's supposed to be" which gets him smacked and gets you fucked in whatever room he can get you into quickest. Grrrrrr I want him.

More Bodice Ripper Soap...

He likes this little game you play, you know he does. Barely married, and he's taken every opportunity(on every surface) to make sure you remember it. You can hear him whistling through the corridors of his manor, letting you know where he is at all times. It's also a warning to any servants still awake and busying themselves about the place. Your heart hammers in your chest as you press yourself back behind the door of the study. You know he saw you come this way, you made sure to close and open various doors along the way to try and throw him off.

It's funny, the anticipation of being caught makes your stomach heat, makes wetness slick your thighs. It's terribly improper, being chased through the house by your husband, you can't even remember what sparked it this time. He'd said something, he always says something, and you'd called him exactly what he is, a rake, a bodice ripper. He's laughed, mirthful and dark as the night outside your windows. Then he'd done just that, gripped your nightdress between two hands and ripped it open. Even now you're clutching it closed over your chest, feeling the frantic flutter of your heart under your fingers, and pretending it doesn't do something sinful to you.

The whistling comes close, you turn your head to peak through the crack left by the hinges. Your husband in all his glory, still in his hunting clothes, you half expect to see him carrying his gun or rope. His hands are lax by his sides as his eyes sweep the hall. He slows by an open door and turns to investigate. You're careful, quiet, as you make your way around the door, eyeing the room nearest you.

You can't stay here, not if he's stopping to look around. Your best bet is running, and hoping he doesn't catch you coming out. You tiptoe to the next room, press yourself to the wall and listen for Johnny's whistle. You close your eyes tight and hear him wander into another room. You take a steadying breath and poke your head out again, determined to make a run for it.

You dart past the next door, or try to. Johnny catches you by the throat, his thick fingers curling menacingly around your neck as you come to an abrupt halt. Your hands fly to his wrist and his grip tightens ever so slightly. "Caught you," He growls, "Shouldn't run from your husband, love." You're pulled against his chest, and bullied to the ground. He's not gentle putting you on your knees, but at least he has the compassion to follow you.

Compassion that flies out the window when his hand leaves your neck and grips your hair tight, pushing your face to the hall's carpet as he pulls your skirt up. You choke feeling his fingers prod your sopping cunt. Johnny makes a noise, a soft, pleased sound that has heat prickling over your skin. He drags his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick, enjoying the heat, before his touch leaves you. You squirm without meaning to, your hips moving to follow his fingers. He hums, fabric rustles, and then you hear him slicking his cock with your wetness.

"Fuck this pussy," He leans over you, forces you to take his weight, the blunt head of his cock teasing your entrance, "tell me she doesn't want me, that you don't love this."

You can't, it wouldn't be true, and he knows it. The best you can do is try to hide your face, nearly impossible with Johnny holding your hair so tightly, and whimper, "Can't."

"Can't what hen?" Johnny coos, "Can't tell me? Or can't take it?" You shake your head against the carpet, try to, at least. Johnny releases your hair, his hand moving to grip your hip hard enough to bruise instead. He ruts against you, his cock just catching at your entrance before slipping back over your slick folds. He presses his forehead between your shoulders. On another man it might be an almost tender gesture, but on Johnny it rings alarm bells in your head. "I'll make it fit," The smile in his voice makes your eyes roll back, "don't worry."

The tip of his cock presses more insistently against you, pushing into your cunt. Your back arches, your nails clawing the carpet as you gasp and whine. He stretches you open on his cock, the heat of his skin burning the same way the stretch does, like he's hoping he'll reshape you for himself. He shushes you, keeps you held tightly in place as he rocks his thick cock into you. You shake and shiver under him, knowing it only spurns him on. There's nothing you can think of that turns this man off of you, he seems annoyingly predisposed towards finding you charming.

Though perhaps charming isn't the right word. Tempting. No, tempted men don't always give into their wants. Your husband has never restrained himself around you, tempting you are not, you're magnetic, destined to attract the Lord Mactavish at every crossing.

You clench on his cock, feel his hips press against your ass, feel every tantalizing inch of him. You feel his teeth ghost over the back of your neck as he drags his cock out of your cunt. "Scream for me wife," He tells you,

and you do.

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ohposhers · 2 days

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rules for trolls requests?

ive actually been meaning to make something like this so people know what requests i take :] Basically I'll take any request that has to do with CANON CHARACTERS from any Trolls media, including AUs or even if you just draw a character a really particular way and want to see me draw them as how you depict them etc etc I DO NOT DRAW OCS IF YOU SEND ME YOUR OC I WILL HUNT YOU FUCKING DOWN !!!

i only draw oc fanart for people i know or if you draw me fanart and i can track down one of your OCs on your page i might draw you something in return if i have time 👍👍

Keep in mind my inbox has 600+ requests so i can never guarantee I will get to your request but shoot your shot cause if i find a request particularly interesting i will definitely try to make it happen :)

#i love your guys' requests like on god sometimes its the motivation i need to draw something #im a fulltime freelancer and this gay trolls blog is my side hobby i am not drawing your ocs in my freetime when i spend my entire day #drawing peoples ocs and shit #if you look closely at the au collage you might see some sneak peaks of aus i havent posted yet what who said that #obv majority of the au images belong to other fantastic artists who i love and worship #trolls #trolls band together

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yellowcry · 28 days

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[Worship au]

Mirabel: I am still freaking out because everyone is acting nuts

Isabela: Goddamit, can you put me down?

Luisa: I absolutely cannot.

#julieta agistin i'm sorry luisa had privatised her sisters #encanto #incorrect quotes #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #worship au

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auideas · 2 years

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‘Stalkify’ AU

Avid Spotify user Character A listens to music non-stop; it’s something they’ve done ever since they had a Walkman, and their habit has only been easier to entertain with the arrival of smartphones, Airpods, and of course, Spotify. They’ve curated hundreds of playlists, acting as a bit of a savant in the arena of playlist development. Thousands of fellow listeners use their playlists every day, and Character A would be a bit dishonest if they said they didn’t like the attention their innate skill has brought them. Living alone in a cramped apartment was pretty lonesome, and whatever level of social interaction they were able to get comforted them.

After waking up and rolling over one morning, they open their phone and plan to play their wake up playlist, but the phone is already prepped with something else. This new playlist was just their first name with a list of songs they would never have chosen for themselves:

“Sleep” by Royal Blood

“Well” by KMRU

“my god” by Trevor Hall

“I’ll Be Back” by 2PM

“soon” by yuragi

#admin m #auideas relaunch #stalker au #stalking au #tw stalker #spotify au #music au #playlist au #lonely au #song au #worship au

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hdra77 · 2 months

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woah!! disarray au moon design jumpscare !! i have the overwhelming urge to spew out every lore about this au but i have to finish everyones designs first and a few lore sneak peaks evil moon real!! shes girlboss have a cropped version of her i know you want to stare at her i know you do-

+ evil siblings!! just some quick doodle of them two messing around and totally not spreading virus into other iterators' system!!

oh yeah psst you can totally ask me questions about this au i cant guarantee that i'll reveal the entire lore about it but hey who knows :)

#rw disarray au #rainworld au #rw au #fishdoesart #rw slivermoon #sliver isnt here but shes been mentioned and its a canon ship in the au soo #it still considers as slivermoon #rw waning crescent #i think thats the other ship name i may be wrong #huh i wonder why moon would worship sliver so much...#could sliver be behind this?#well haha i wouldnt tell you #like why would i #rw looks to the moon #rw lttm #rw five pebbles #rw fp

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lovesickeros · 2 months

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☆ from gold, i am undone

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, implied self harm, implied suicide attempts {☆} word count 0.9k

You weren't meant to be here.

You can feel it in the marrow of your bones– it weighs you down like heavy shackles, gold bleeding from your pores until it is all you know. The taste of ichor on your tongue, the warmth of its invasion beneath your skin, that gleam of gold that lingers in the color of your eyes like specks of dust.

You are changed, and you are whole.

But you are so unbearably broken.

A shattered piece of porcelain hastily put back together with gold to fill the cracks.

Decoration, in the end, for you are not fit to walk as "mortals" do. This gold had filled every empty crevice of your body, spilled the red into your frantic hands and made you bleed so it's callous gold could make room inside your body. It has taken from you many things, given many more, but you scratch and bite and tear until it drips onto the floor and even then it never leaves. It stains the floor no matter how hard you scrub– a permanent reminder of the sickening gold that molds you into something that used to look like you– that does look like you. Desecrated, yet so horribly divine.

All you see is a monster.

Something new, something old.

A hollowed out shell, wounds left to rot and fester until you suited the image of the Creator they bore upon statues and murals, the Creator worshiped in prayers spoken in hushed whispers and joyous chants praising your magnificence.

But what magnificence is there in detachment? What joy is there to be found in carving a God out of a human? They kneel like lambs before the shepherd, but the flock has made you– and you want to unmake them. Unweave the tapestry of their being stitch by stitch until it all falls apart and the world knows the cost of casting molten gold into the shape of a human, knows the price that has been left unpaid.

You want to take it from them. Watch them squabble and pray, blind sheep stepping into the wolf's open maw– to tear the seams of their being until the world is unwound by your heavy hands.

But you know it will not satisfy you.

Nothing does anymore.

You are no wolf. Only the shepherd who guides.

And with every drop of blood spilled, they ripped the humanity from your very bones until your body was the cast in which they made something anew– something gold, something horrific. A monster as much a God, a beast as much a man.

There is nothing left but absolute authority.

You try again and again to mend this act of desecration, to peel back the outer shell and rend the gold from your marrow– but your body cannot, will not, die. It mends itself back into place no matter how damaged, and all you feel is the uncomfortable tug of your body forcing itself to live. You cannot die, but were you ever truly alive at all?

Yet with every cycle, you know only one constant besides the thrum of golden ichor in your veins– cold.

Ice that burns, ice that spreads and festers and devours. Claws that pull you apart until the gold runs thick, teeth that burrow into your bones and rip it out from the source..eyes that witness the fall of a God with reverence– hungering, all consuming reverence.

You welcome it.

It is the first time you felt pain since you were cast into an image of a being you were not meant to be. The sting of cold upon your skin makes you shiver, your body tries to reject it, but you want to welcome it– for a brief moment that lasts only as long as it takes for you to blink, you see the glint of something familiar in the reflection of her empty eyes. Something achingly, horribly familiar– something human, all the more terrifying for it.

Even when Teyvat itself crumples like paper beneath the weight of her sins – of this desecration anew, this wretched heresy – you allow her hands to do it again. You grasp her hands in yours like chains, willing her to shackle you, willing her to pull you apart and make you whole again. To break you until the gold cannot put you back together again.

You long, each time, for those eyes like spears that lodge into your skin– burrow deep and sting deeper, making gold flow like water. You long for the biting tongue, the cutting words and those teeth like weapons– long to see the spite and anger and impure disgust aimed at the woman of silver who leads you down a hall that ends only in damnation. You follow each time like the lamb led astray by the wolf, but you do not wail in betrayal when she sinks her teeth into your throat and devours you whole.

For is it a sin if you welcome it? Has their God sinned, in the eyes of the flock, for welcoming such heresy with open arms? For allowing the wolf into their home?

Is it a sin to be broken beneath the only hands that have loved you?

Is it a sin to want to love, too, those hands and teeth stained in gold?

Then you shall be damned, you swear it. Damned, but gold no more.

For death is the closest you have ever felt to being human.