#for those of you who wish to procreate

[whimperaudioconnoisseur]

it should be illegal to have to do tasks during pms week. i’m cranky and my tits hurt i should be fed chocolate and gently caressed by an obedient pet

[keskeaa]

FIREBALL

[justblades]

⋆｡˚ ♰・priest! sunday x afab! reader

┈─ ・(ex)plicit, mdni. contains 2.2 spoilers, blasphemous themes, impregnation, clit stimulation, oral sex, controlling sunday, not proofread.

Even a mere mortal can sense the regret lingering in the atmosphere of the vicinity, a small space dedicated for confessions and atonement of sins committed by those who believe in the Harmony. Numerous pews stand in rows before a single one, each being occupied by two people at best, to which you draw closer to the confession box— one more person to go and it is time to purify your tainted soul.

It was just muffled murmurs of two people from the latter reverberating inside the hall's six walls, along with the sound of the ceiling fans whirring. Your mind starts to drift onto something else: although you have no idea what others hold with regards to their sins, you still could not help but think that yours is shameful.

You can see the person beside you exit the birch box with teary eyes and stuffed nose as she holds a handkerchief to her face. "Next please." a resolute voice echoes, signalling for you to step forward into the confessional. With a wobbly stature, you stand up and tread forward, proceeding to close the oak door behind you.

The golden lights from the hall seep through the confession booth's partition, gleaming upon your stature - creating a silhouette as to where only the advocate from the other side can peer through the woodworks. You attempt to clear your voice before speaking, a dry throat halting the words you intend to verbalize within.

"I humbly ask for your blessings and the forgiveness of Xipe . . ." You mutter as your eyes dart to nothing that catches your interest except for the parquetry etched on the wooden floorboards. Your head held down low, staring at its intricate designing.

"Please feel free to proceed. I have sought their presence within us." The priest answers. "I have committed a grave sin of succumbing to passing emotions. Primarily, I struggled with regulating the purity of one's mind and it was late that I realized I indulged in an extreme activity to quench the thirst for sexual pleasure." 

A reassuring hum resounds. "As a devout follower of the Harmony, I believe my actions do not align with the path I stride. Therefore, I ask for forgiveness and assistance on how I will repent for the sins I have committed." After forming the confession where in sentences you never thought have ever been uttered, it feels as though a heavy weight was lifted off your chest and the shackles on your feet disintegrated.

Glancing at the frosted, colored glass window in front of you, you noticed how the warm yellow lights in the background flicker repetitively in an instant, as well as the birch surroundings creaking. "By committing a grave sin, you've engaged in an activity with a partner you are not married with." The priest reiterates as if the faulty lights are a common occurrence.

You hum in response. "And by committing an even graver sin, you took part in an activity with an objective aside from procreation. Please correct me if I'm wrong."

"Yes, esteemed advocate. Everything you said was indeed correct." Your heart starts racing, "Do you promise yourself you'll turn your back on this lascivious history to start anew?" He queries.

"Yes, Mister Sunday."

"Even if you were to encounter challenges to test your faith for the Harmony?"

Hesitation ruptures through your composure. Your resolution suddenly cracks, as if it was merely a façade with a longing for forgiveness to move on.

"Be honest." Like the advocate could read your mind as of the moment, you believe in the capabilities of Harmony, so there was no use in feigning cleanliness when you know it in yourself, you still struggle. "I wish to seek assistance from those with wisdom."

You receive another firm hum in response, "Very well. Please see me in the reconciliation room a short time after." Your mind spirals into confusion and bewilderment, the emotions painting your features like you were an open book to the audience.

Trekking off the confessional booth, you did not dare to spare a glance back at the priest and only made your way to the distinct, separate room - the reconciliation. It was small, enclosed, and only an oak table, two pairs of engraved chairs, a single ligneous partition and a kneeler reside within the space. Your vision anchors to the sculpted wooden cross sign hung on the beige walls, illuminated by a faint golden lamp on the table.

Patiently awaiting the presence of the priest, you stood still with a heavy heart, seeming like the relief you felt previously was only a glimpse of what you could've been if you didn't commit such grave sin. If only.

The door swings open, followed by the entrance of the figure you were anticipating. Faded sky blue hues of hair tumble upon the male's shoulders, along with the golden earrings he was donning. Feathered ears diluting into white ripple from his footsteps, and his distinct, golden halo stays afloat behind his head.

Being vis-à-vis with the highly esteemed figure of the Penacony like this tugs your heartstrings in unease. It felt bizarre, as you could recall from others' experiences that when you encounter priests or advocates of the Harmony, your heart rests. As for Sunday, it was the polar opposite. Chills run kilometers up and down your spine, your throat starts to become dry.

You trail your vision downwards, setting your sight upon his graceful features. His eyes were a radiant yellow tinged with an ocean blue, framed by his particularly long lower lashes. He purses his lips tightly, curving upwards, flashing a small smile. "Please take a seat." He motions for the chair in front of your figures, your eyes noticing the cross cut out gloves he's wearing.

Sitting down with guard held up high, Sunday follows suit as he opens the drawer from the oak table, retrieving something of a color white and frilly in texture, as you make of what you could from your peripheral vision. "This will certainly be of help to put your faith to test. If you would kindly turn around."

Your hands rest on your lap and as you hear the last phrase that came out of his mouth, you subconsciously gripped a handful of the fabric you're wearing in alertness. Not until your vision was impaired as Sunday blindfolds you with the latter material, it was soft and delicate to the touch - you could not see anything but faint shadows against the lighting. Everything was ivory white in stark contrast, and you could barely peer through the lace folds to see the priest.

"I will now be tuning your mind with the Harmony to which you will face repercussions if statements untrue to yourself are said." He pauses. Unsure where this will lead to, you had no choice but to nod in continuation. "Under the light of the Harmony, all wickedness is revealed. I implore them to shed their light."

What used to be a blurry white in your vision now fringes into colored edges, the prominent colors being purple, white, red, orange, and yellow.

"This will serve as a gentle reminder that I am assisting you to a path where grave sins  are not succumbed to, and only ▅▅▅ exists alongside philosophy to instill moral duties to a functioning member of a society."

His words cut through the thick atmosphere, thawing the glacial tension growing with each passing second.

He lowers his stature to face you, gloved fingers trailing from the hem of the laced blindfold down to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly with a careful grip. "Does this send a shiver down to your spine?" Sunday inquires and you shake your head in disagreement. It seems like he has a whole plan on how this will play out, and you were merely a pawn in his chessboard to see what you would react under these circumstances he will put you in.

The touch ghosts a caress on your lower parts, specifically, the frame of your chest. His thumb twirls on the middle part with an unraveled goal of making your buds perk up underneath the confinements of your clothing - making you grit your teeth as a poor attempt to stifle the sound threatening to escape.

A question arises amidst the confusing situation, a question that will surely be received in a poor taste as it will question his authority and legitimacy. You wanted to ask, is this really necessary?

However, the aura he exudes now was far different from what he displays when he's in front of the audience of the masses. He seems more strict now, judging from the tone lacing his voice from his query earlier. "Does this feel good?" He proceeds to unbutton your top, letting the fabric come undone and fall down to your lap. A singular  gloved hand of his snakes its way to your back, and with a single fidget, your bra was unclasped.

The priest takes his precious time in all these. He carefully observes the clothing that you wear, as he had come to adore the fact that you were wearing pearly white brassiere, one that was similar to the blindfold's texture and design, it was frilly in the edges and soft to the touch.

A light chuckle slips out, "Well? What's your answer?" Desire and temptation brews within your stomach, even spiking higher as he caresses your mounds with both of his hands. His touches feel light and blissful at the same time, like your body was basking in the warmth and enjoyment the priest had to offer. You struggle to keep your body still, knees trembling even though you were only sitting.

"N-No, Mr. Sunday."

A sharp throbbing ache courses through your head, granting him a wince of both surprise and pain. "It appears that you haven't put your mind and whole heart to this yet." He says as he walks away from your stature, leaving you dumbfounded. As silence encompasses the vicinity, you hear the male seat himself on the chair across from you. "Come to me." He simply orders.

"Just take steps forward and trust me."

With blind faith, you solemnly obey - approaching his figure with an extremely bleary vision. As your feet meet with an obstacle, seemingly the chair's legs, you stop in your tracks. "Now straddle my lap." Following suit, you feel a bulging sensation under your remaining clothing. Your breath becomes even more jagged than before, especially now that your clothed folds come in contact with his throbbing dick. It was clear cut enough that it was his erection continuously growing.

A brief moment passes and Sunday continues to envelop your hard buds within his lips, teeth grinding on your nipples in an attempt to inflict pain and pleasure all at the same time. "M— Mr. Sunday . . !" You yelp but he does not halt. He proceeds to twirl his warm, slick tongue all over your glazed areolas, your boob dancing in rhythm with his mouth in somewhat harmonic tunes played by your stifled mewls.

His other free hand pulls you tighter to his chest as he adjusts his position, bucking his hips upwards to create some sort of friction. The tip of his covered cock brushes against your already wet slit, granting him another lewd sound - this time, a soft moan. "I— I— I can't—" your hands clutch on the man's broad shoulders, feeling his long, muted blue and white locks tangle along your fingers. "You can. Yes you can. Only a little bit more you would be rewarded by proving your loyalty to the ▅▅▅."

Your sense of hearing downgrades as your mind drifts into pure bliss, lower limbs becoming numb as more pleasure courses through your veins. As if it's still not enough, Sunday simply lowers your remaining clothes to your feet, revealing your folds sopping wet with arousal already.

With haste and care in Sunday's every movement, he lays your back on the table in between the chairs, forcibly revealing everything down there to him — for him to revel in. The gelid wind traces shivers upon your sweat dewed skin, especially your folds now glimmering with muddy white liquids.

He raises your legs and stands up, resting your lower limbs upon his shoulders. The position is embarrassing enough as it is, but having the priest tower over you is another experience that feels even more intense than what unfolded previously. Not to mention that the throbbing pang in your head brought by your dishonesty upon the Harmony worsens minute by minute.

The male buries his face in your inner thighs first, flicking his tongue over your soft skin while his eyes are darted on your face, in high alert to which action of his you will react the most to. "Need I remind you to be honest this time around? Or is the headache that you're feeling not sufficient for you to stay true to your words?" He asks with a demanding tone, the margins of his lips drawing closer and closer to your slit.

"I have learned my lesson, Mr. Sunda—"

Gloved fingers begin to stimulate your clit, moving in motions you cannot fathom with your current state - your lower body jerking up in response to the stimulation. A sly smile creeps up on Sunday's face, his navy blue pupils fixating on each of your actions and expressions.

All you could think of was the fact that he didn't even let you finish, he went straight to pleasure you more, the sensation becoming more overwhelming as he starts to glide the tip of his tongue on your folds. "Do you feel good?" Although his voice was muffled from the proximity from his face and your pussy, you could comprehend and immediately answer, "Yes! I-I feel good . . !"

You rack your head back once Sunday buries his face further into your inner thighs, wallowing himself in your slit as he sucked on your sweet spot, sticking his tongue into your velvet walls while still toying with your clitoris. You bite back your moans, you cannot afford to lose the remaining dignity you had in you left - if there was any.

"Don't do that."

His voice sounds stern as ever, you were left with no choice yet again but to let mewls and moans come undone at this point in time. You were noisy, along with the sucking sounds accompanied by your hums of pleasure, continually bouncing off of the reconciliation room's four walls. "Very good. As for the last part, you must continue to be truthful, to stand by the ▅▅▅, and to ▅▅▅ to what I ought to be ▅▅▅ for you. Do you understand?"

Much to your relief, your vision was once again back to normal as he unties the lacey blindfold on your eyes. This time, you could see Sunday's disheveled hair, as well as the golden earrings dangling at every movement he makes. He swiftly unzips his slacks, therefore revealing his cock he had been concealing for so long before. It stands in its full glory, hues of purple and indigo veins threatening to pop - it was evident he's at his limit.

"Use your mouth. Make me feel good." He commands and peers at you with a somber expression. You muster enough strength on your body to stand up and kneel in front of him, positioning your head in a perfect angle to receive him. Slowly parting your lips open, he shoves his dick inside you, granting you a hoarse moan of satisfaction slipping past his lips.

You bob your head up and down and as if it felt natural to wrap your digits around the remaining length of his cock, you pump him in accordance to your pace, taking him inside with no hesitation, with only one goal in mind: to make him feel good. You could feel the crown of his dick kiss your throat every time you go deeper, making your eyes water as you try to keep yourself from gagging for the priest's satisfaction.

"That's enough, stand up." Your momentum was cut off as he hooks his arms on yours, making you stand from your previously kneeling position. It seems he has indulged enough in your submission and now it is time for him to try something new, something far more amusing in his perspective.

With both of your statures still standing up, he flips you around, making your back face him. He can examine every nook and cranny of your body in this way, and with a hum of approval, he bends you over slightly, wrapping his arms around your waist and reach for your tits. Your breath deepens, more beads of sweat proceed to trickle down your naked body. "M-Mr. Sunday, are we really going to do it?" you ask as he wraps his hand around himself, brushing his tip on your entrance.

He stops in his movements. "Do you have a problem with that?" A domineering tone laces that sole sentence, one that a person cannot delve deeper furthermore.

With one more stroke, he finally pushes himself inside your velvet walls, molding themselves around the shape of Sunday's dick - wallowing in the pleasure and warmth he emanates inside you. "So . . . warm . . ." He whispers, his breath ghosting a caress on the shell of your ear.

Sunday builds up his pace from a painfully slow one to picking it up, thrusting into you with additional force, pistoning your pussy as he's balls deep. Sounds of skin slapping add onto the lewd tune you two have been playing for the past hour, a whole sixty minutes of pleasure pooling your stomach and arousals seeping out of your holes.

Your legs start to quiver once more, exhaustion gnawing at your bones. But amidst this, Sunday kept you still with his force, hitting your sweet spots with the tip of his cock. If you could beg for mercy as of the moment, you certainly would take the chance. But to who, exactly? To whoever aeon is witnessing this lascivious act unfold in front of them, committed in such a religious place?

Or perhaps to Sunday, who you've knelt to before, received him inside your body in more ways than one. Perhaps. Perhaps it is he who shall show you mercy in the heat of the moment.

"M-Mr. Sunday, please forgive me!"

Interest sparks inside his mind, revelling in the way of being viewed as someone highly, someone sought out, someone in a legitimate authority. "You shall be forgiven." He states as he bites down on the blade of your shoulder, teeth leaving a bite mark and an aching sensation alongside it. You could do nothing but wince in pain, but waves of pleasure start to crush upon your conscious self.

Surely this is too much pleasure to handle for someone asking for forgiveness as they committed a grave sin for partaking in debauchery . . . but to be done this way by a priest is a little too exhilarating.

He picks up the pace, earning himself more moans of pleasure escape your lips, "I'll ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ inside you." Sunday says as a fair warning, but a sentence you could only form at the present time was a lighthearted "Do as you please, Mr. Sunday."

With one single thrust, strings of satisfaction sprawl inside your womb. It feels warm yet again, but now, comforting in stark contrast to the nervousness welling up in your heart earlier.

"Well done. As you've shown resolution that you're on a path to atone for the sins you've committed in the past, you shall be forgiven."

[illiteratedreams]

synopsis ⇒ breeding an extremely needy yaoshi

kinks ⇒ breeding, intersex yaoshi, tentacles, nipple play, overstimulation, creampie, mentioned lactation but not explicitly shown

reader anatomy ⇒ cock mentioned

wc ⇒ 1.3k

img credit

The gift of life was a precious one indeed. What greater blessing is there other than to live, to prosper, and to grow?

As the Aeon of Abundance, Yaoshi’s only wish is to spread this gift across the universe, to create and bloom and birth.

Usually, they do this with a simple glance of their thousands of eyes, or with a cradling of a planet in their six arms, or, if they’re feeling daring, a kiss.

But sometimes, the need to procreate, or rather, the need to be bred forces them to give life in… other ways.

And this is one of those times.

You glance over at the Aeon impassively, the slightest bit of annoyance washing over your face as Yaoshi tugs on your arm, demanding your attention on them instead of a planet that’s caught your eye.

“What is it now, Yaoshi?”

At the sound of your voice, Yaoshi lets out a beautiful whine. Almost pouting up at you, they press their body up against your arm and your leg, forcing you to feel their erection through the thin piece of fabric that covers their crotch.

Not that you needed them to do so. Yaoshi is big, and the cloth does nothing to hide the shape of their bulge, throbbing and leaking. From the looks of their soaked robes, their pussy isn’t doing as well either.

“Nngh… Please,” they beg, panting hotly into your ear. “I need you-“

They cut themselves off with a needy moan, humping you like an animal in heat. They hug your arm closer to them and lean their head on your shoulder - careful not to bump their antlers on you - and let out another whine.

“Need you inside me,” they whisper, voice deep and sultry with need. Gently, they trail an arm up your chest, squeezing every piece of skin they can find. "Won't you breed me, dearest? My body aches for you- ah, please, I need it, I need you."

You sigh, turning to face them fully. They brighten at your attention, their hips rolling once more to entice you. A knowing smile slips onto your face.

"You are so needy, do you know that?"

The Aeon gasps as you reach down and cup at their bulge. Their cock pulsates in your palm, heat radiating off it like a second sun. Their eyes roll, moans and repeated pleases and thank yous spilling from their lips.

"Already so wet for me," you hum, giving their cock a squeeze. "For such a beloved Aeon, you're nothing but a greedy slut who can't live without a cock in them. Aren't you?"

Yaoshi whimpers at your words.

"Please," they beg again, "fill me."

And when the Aeon of Abundance begs so prettily, tears gleaming in their eyes and cock so desperately leaking in your palm, who are you to deny them of their needs?

Your eyes gleam hungrily, and suddenly Yaoshi is yanked off your arms by cool, slimy tentacles that mirror the night sky. Their lips part in the beginnings of a protest, only for a surprised moan to be ripped from them as the tendrils rip apart their robes, leaving them bare in front of your gaze.

Your tentacles manhandle them as if they were nothing but a doll, forcing their legs apart to reveal their dripping and gaping pussy, clenching around nothing.

"You prepared yourself," you muse, a cheeky smile on your face. "That desperate to be bred full, hm?"

"Only for- Ah-!" Yaoshi throws their head back as two small tentacles latch onto their plush pink nipples, pulling and sucking until the poor nubs become hard and swollen.

"I wonder, if I sucked hard enough, would you lactate?" you croon. Yaoshi flushes at the thought.

"P-Perhaps..." they whimper. Their arms are held stiffly in place so that they can't fight back against the tentacles, but if their twitching cock, hanging hard and heavy over their pussy, is anything to go by, they enjoy more than anything.

You lift a finger, and three thicker tentacles arrive at the scene. You'd lubricate them, but from the looks of Yaoshi's hole, you won't need to.

One of the tentacles strikes Yaoshi's cock, swallowing it to the base with ease. It pulses eagerly, sucking and licking the poor thing while Yaoshi squeals in delight at the feeling. At the same time, the other tentacles prod and poke at Yaoshi's pussy, one even flicking at their clit curiously.

"Hurry~" Yaoshi whines, shaking their hips the best they can in your tentacles. "N-Need- "

"Yes, yes," you roll your eyes. What a spoiled brat you have on your hands.

With an apathetic flick of your finger, both tentacles thrust into Yaoshi's pussy with a debauched squelch.

"Yes~!" Immediately Yaoshi's eyes roll at the stretch, and they come with a shriek, squirting cutely as their walls clench around your tentacles.

They're almost confused as to where to come from, their dick shooting white streaks into your awaiting tentacle as their pussy sprays deliriously, some of their spend even landing on you.

But still, it's not enough. It's never enough for Yaoshi.

Without giving them a second to process their orgasm, your tentacles surge, speeding up and fucking unrelentlessly into Yaoshi, pressing every spot imaginable.

"Hnghk!~! Yes, yes, yes- M-more, need m-mORE~~!!"

The Aeon chokes as more and more tentacles come to slip into their pussy, pulling at their soaked rim and stretching them until their lean stomach bulges from the sheer quantity of them - some even brushing up against their clit. All the while, their pussy welcomes each new visitor eagerly, swallowing them up until it's practically overflowing with tentacles, stuffed almost full.

Keyword being almost.

Yaoshi comes again, and again, and again, pain from overstimulation melting into delicious pleasure that has them squirting almost without rest. But they still aren't satisfied, and they never will be, not until they're given what they need the most of all.

"C-Cock- Mmph-!" they come again, arching their back beautiful. "Need- UGNK~! Need your- full- so big~~"

How cute, you hum. Poor thing can't even speak coherently anymore.

You finally stand up from your throne in the cosmos. Sensing your movement, your tentacles shift Yaoshi's position once more before presenting them to you in a mating position, like a divine sacrifice.

Languidly stroking your cock, you gaze down at them, drinking in their state. You doubt they're even sane in this moment - how could they, with their nipples, cock, and pussy being toyed with beyond repair?

But that's just how Yaoshi likes it, the little freak.

Yaoshi giggles deliriously, watching excitedly as you line your cock up to their already-filled hole. And, like the slut they are, their exhausted pussy even dares to clench in anticipation.

Then you thrust in, and Yaoshi thinks no more.

They scream as you bottom out, coming yet again with a earth-shaking tremor. All they can feel is pure bliss as you jackhammer them, thrusting in and out of their pussy with blinding speed alongside your many tentacles, which still haven't managed to slip out yet.

Cum seems to drip from them like a fountain as they reach heaven again and again and again, trapped in eternal ecstasy as they are used like a sex doll. Vaguely, they feel you bite their fair skin, marking them eternally as yours. They think you come eventually, but with how full they are, they can't distinguish between gift and gift.

But did it matter? It feels good, doesn't it?

This is what they were born for, this was their purpose. To be bred, fucked full and content, to take cock for the many eons they would go on to live.

A satisfied smile breaks their lips.

This, this was life.

© illiteratedreams 2024 . do not copy, repost, modify, or translate.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

Hey! Can you write a long one shot where Lo'ak/Neteyam is in a serious relationship with a human girl ( they are around 20 years old), and she hears Neytiri talking to Jake , saying that your relationship is impossible, bc you can't procreate. Then the reader sits alone crying bc she really wanted that to happen. Lo'ak/Neteyam finds her and comforts her. Then eywa sees how much they love each other and blesses their union with a pregnancy where the reader survives it? It would be more like a spiritual conception, it doesn't need to be anything sexual if you don't feel comfortable writing it. Mo'at or Ronal would be the ones to tell the news, since they are tsahik. Idk, I just wondered how this pregnancy/baby would be like. I even pictured Lo'ak/Neteyam laying their heads on the reader's stomach caressing and kissing it, calling the baby 'our little miracle'

Spiritualis Conceptio

Tags: AgedUp!Neteyam x Human!Reader, Oneshot, Avatar 2, Fem!Reader, Pregnancy, Like Spiritual??, Also Bonus Uncle Lo’ak

Warnings: Major Avatar 2 Spoiler

Years pass, and you and Neteyam have been living together peacefully with the Metkayina clan. It has always been a dream of yours to have a family, but as a human on Pandora, you know that's not physically possible when your lover is from another species.

I'm gonna be real with you, I had zero clue how to write this. I seriously needed a couple days to mull over how this would work. Would reader pull a Bella Swan? Who knows! This is lowkey a load of bullshit! Also please keep in mind that although I'm writing this, I am a minor and chose to write this non-sexually and went with the spiritual route. I think this falls under more cute domestic scenarios overall anyway so, WHO DOESN’T WANNA SEE DAD NETEYAM???

* ˚ ✦ 1767 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/01/23] ❞ 

You wrung your fingers together as you meandered along the beaches of the Awa'atlu village, contemplating mundane matters. One in particular that piqued your interest was something you had been thinking about for a considerable amount of time; a family.

You and Neteyam had been together for several years; you were both adults who had been dwelling with the Metkayina clan for the last decade or so. You'd left the Omaticaya clan with him, hoping to remain near to him wherever he traveled. You believed it was remarkable that he survived after being shot all those years ago, and since then, Neteyam has promised never to leave you.

And since then, you’ve felt like you wanted to further your relationship with him. To have a family with him. It warmed your heart to think of the way he would be with his children. Would he be like his own father, protective and caring? Strict yet present? Or would he let loose, and be carefree with them? These were the questions you ached to know the answers to.

It's not as though Neteyam was oblivious to your desires. In all honesty, he was thrilled that you wanted a family, but you two had never seriously discussed the crux of it beyond the concept itself. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on your behalf, but you sincerely hoped it would be achievable someday.

After a short while, you became bored and weary from strolling over the sand for so long. You decided to return to your humble home, which, despite its small size, contained many fond memories for you. Your ears perked up at the sound of a woman's voice before you could whisk the portiere aside.

Neytiri.

Neteyam had been waiting for you to return from your beach promenade, but when the curtain to your front door was swept away, he was greeted by the sight of Neytiri and his father instead, who had arrived moments before you. He welcomed them, intrigued as to why they were searching for him and bearing poignant expressions.

You hid beside the doorway and eavesdropped. You knew you shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations, but when your partner's mother was arguing with him inside your home, whom can criticize you for wishing to hear?

You subsequently regretted that decision because you wished you hadn't. Neytiri didn't take her time stating what she intended to say; she spoke it bluntly and firmly, as one would expect from someone of her character. She was always this way.

“Your relationship with the human girl is impossible.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken. What?

It seemed as though Neteyam had the same reaction as you (albeit unaware of your presence), as he immediately shot up from his seat.

“Now is when you choose to tell me that? You had years to disapprove of Y/N! What changed?” he was not happy.

Jake sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We overheard you both, talking about wanting a family.”

Neytiri interjected. “It will not happen. It cannot, you are not even of the same species! She belongs with her own people!”

Why were they so adamant about this?

“She is a human girl! You cannot procreate, yet you talk of wanting a family?”

“And? Look at Kiri! She had a human mother!”

Jake placed a rough hand on his son’s shoulder. “Kiri was conceived from Grace’s avatar, Neteyam. No one has ever seen or heard of a human being giving birth to a Na’vi child, let alone be pregnant with one.”

He brushed his father’s hand off of him. “It doesn’t matter.”

You were devastated. You were aware that Neteyam's family had reservations about you, but were they always this antagonistic to your relationship? You opted not to enter your home, tears welling up in your eyes. You dashed away, but before you could truly escape, Neteyam pulled the curtain aside to leave. He spotted your sprinting figure as he grumbled over the discussion he had just seconds before.

He groaned as he raised his palm to his forehead. “Shit.”

Neteyam broke into a run to chase after you.

...

You hid behind some rocks, huddling into your body so that you could cry without anybody finding you. Well, almost. Neteyam emerged from behind one of the boulders you were situated in front of, and sat down carefully so as not to scare you off.

His eyebrows were knitted together in concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You wiped your puffy eyes and sniffled. “I heard Neytiri telling you we can’t be together.”

Neteyam embraced you and stroked your hair.

You began to weep again as you sank into his touch. “I really wanted to have a family with you, but I don’t think that’s possible...”

Neteyam felt a wave of guilt surge through him. Perhaps you wouldn't have been crying if you'd fell in love with a human male instead. Nonetheless, he delicately nuzzled you, trying to soothe your pains.

“It’s okay. I don’t care what my mother says.”

When you glanced up at him, he planted a tender kiss against your lips to quell your sobs. You lamented the absence of them when Neteyam stood up and extended his hand for you to take.

You accepted it tentatively, finally putting an end to your sobs. “Where are we going?”

He gave you a soft smile. “You’ll see.”

...

Thank goodness Tsireya also taught you breathing exercises.

When Neteyam said he’d take you somewhere, you didn’t expect it to be the goddamn spirit tree.

You were underwater, squeezing Neteyam's hand as he approached the foliage. He had informed you beforehand that Eywa might hear his prayers, which is why you were here.

You maintained your grip on his hand in trepidation. Neteyam drew his braid over his shoulder, and nodded once more before attaching his queue to the tree.

You could tell he was begging Eywa to bless you both with a child. You sensed tingles across your skin as you felt the energy of the tree move through your lover, wondering whether your family's future was not completely lost after all.

Once Neteyam finished his prayer, he disconnected his queue and helped you swim back up to the surface.

...

You felt ill.

Seriously, terribly ill. You assumed you ate something unpleasant because you became queasy out of nowhere; what was wrong with you?

Neteyam voiced his concerns about the state of your health, and said that he would leave for a moment and bring back the village Tsahìk.

Ronal stepped inside your marui, and raised an eyebrow at your figure. Why did Jake Sully’s son bring her to you? “She is a human, what could I possibly do to aid her?”

Neteyam grumbled, then admitted to what he had done the few days prior. “We visited the spirit tree, and I prayed to Eywa for a baby. Now Y/N is suddenly sick, and I don’t know why!”

Ronal was taken aback for a time. She gazed at Neteyam, puzzled, then swiftly kneeled by your side. She placed her tools near your head, and you began to groan in agony, sweating from the aching in your body.

Ronal shot a glare towards Neteyam. “You, make sure nobody steps foot into this marui!”

Neteyam was a little slow in processing Ronal's order, but he promptly walked towards the entrance to maintain a watchful eye as she toiled. She spoke in Na'vi, and pressed her palm against your abdomen to interpret Eywa's will.

...

“This human girl, she is pregnant.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, utterly astonished. Ronal had helped to relieve the cramps in your body, but that was overshadowed by the shock you and Neteyam were experiencing at the revelation of your pregnancy.

“I don’t know how this child came to be, but it is clear Eywa’s will has been told.”

You couldn’t help but intercede. “But, Jake said no human has ever been pregnant with a Na’vi child! How is this possible?”

Ronal sighed. “We do not know if this is a Na’vi child yet, but this is clearly some form of spiritual conception. We will simply have to wait and see how the pregnancy goes.”

...

This was not a normal human baby.

The more time passed, the more visible your bump became. Ronal had only alerted Neteyam's family about the pregnancy in case something went wrong with the baby. However, it was becoming increasingly impossible to conceal your body's visible baby bump. Neytiri was surprised at first because she couldn't believe you two had truly conceived a child.

The baby was developing well. To be honest, it was a little too fast for your liking, but it was fine. Aside from the occasional cramps and nausea, your health was excellent, and you were coping well with the pregnancy.

Neteyam was over the moon about your pregnancy. There were numerous occasions when he would lie with you, singing songs to your baby and wondered if they could hear him.

You hoped it couldn’t, because no offense, but his voice was awful. Neytiri’s singing genes did not pass down to Neteyam.

Your favorite moment of those instances though, aside from your lover's atrocious vocals, is when he would kiss and caress your belly while referring to your child as “our little miracle.”

On occasion, you two would dispute over the baby's gender or how much more Na'vi or human it would appear to be. You were certain that your daughter would seem more human, but Neteyam insisted that your son would undoubtedly look like a Na'vi. Furthermore, it was him who prayed for this! He essentially did all of the work!

You would argue that he’s not the pregnant one, and that you’re definitely having a daughter. No questions asked.

Bonus!

You had a son.

Everyone in the tribe was shocked when Ronal announced the pregnancy to them. A child who is both human and Na'vi? It was incomprehensible!

You were absolutely livid as you stood there, Neteyam snickering in the background. Eywa was truly a mischievous deity who relished in playing games.

Neteyam nudged your shoulder in silent laughter. “I told you we’d have a boy!”

You smacked his arm. “Oh, shut up! You weren’t even right about him looking more Na’vi!”

You two quietly bickered as Lo’ak held the infant. “Haha, I’m your uncle now! Look at us, we both have demon blood!”

He began to speak in a singsong voice, “demon baabbyy!”

The baby started wailing.

Someone seriously needed to take that child away from Lo’ak before he dropped it in the sand.

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

One plus one

“This can’t be normal…”

“Jason, you’re a halfa, nothing is normal.”

Jason threw a bird as he continued to study the mirror.

There was a lump on his stomach. It wasn’t there last week.

Call him paranoid but the last time he wasn’t ended with him in a box.

Danny snickered from his perch on Jason’s bed.

“You know if something is really bothering you than we can go visit Frostbite? It’s kind of his whole deal to make sure we don’t croak again.”

Jason grimaced as he pressed the toilet’s flush with his foot.before entering his bedroom and flopping onto the bed.

“Sure, who doesn’t enjoy getting lectures from yetis? It’s probably just a resurgence of the pit. And extra can of liquid lime jello a day and I’ll be good.”

“You say that now, but last time it was you flame core coming in.”

Jason grimaced,

“I’m aware.”

“You burned down a safe house. Jason, you’re no longer human. You need to remember that it’s never nothing wit-“

Danny let out a sharp yelp as he felt a harsh kick send him to the floor. Getting up, he sent a glare at the snickering vigilante before letting out a sigh,

“I’m just saying it’s better to get this checked out before it becomes a problem.”

“If it will calm your nerves than we can visit tomorrow, now get over here. I have patrol in a couple hours and I demand compensation.”

“Compensation?” He snickered as he slid into the older boy’s arms. “Compensation for what?”

“The lectures I’m going to have to deal with tomorrow. Now shut up dumbass.”

~~~~

Jason was in shock.

He had to be because there’s no way that Frosty just said-

“-quite remarkable Jason! Usually when it comes to procreation ghosts have challenges to produce one child-“

Triplets.

‘That’s three..’

“Holy shit.”

Like actually how??

Jason couldn’t even remember when the last time he slept with someone let alone bottomed.

Glancing over to Danny he could see that he was trying to do math as well.

“I don’t- how?”

Frostbite gave him a confused look,

“Young Jason? What do you mean?”

“I mean how? I haven’t had sex since I met Danny.”

“Ahh, you are thinking of human procreation. When it comes to ghosts they really only need to have a strong wish for children and have their body and haunt in a proper state to carry. Add the fact that you have been in prolonged contact with the Great One probably caused the quantity.”

Fucking hell Desiree..

“So they’re mine?” Danny asked,

“As far as I’m aware. Congratulations you two on your hauntlings! Now with the sheer number you are a caring Jason I think it it best that we talk about what you should expect-“

~~~~~~

“Jason talk to me babe.”

“Talk? What is there to talk about? I’m fine, you’re fine, the babies are fine. Everything is fine.”

Danny hummed as he floated above the kitchen.

“You say that but you’re stress baking.”

“We were out of snacks.”

“You’re making a cheesecake at five in the morning.”

Jason slammed his rolling pin a bit more aggressively into the gram crackers before turning around.

“Fine! You know what? I’m stressed, I admit it! We’re not in a stable place here! We’re two 23 year olds who live in crime alley! The Anti-Ecto acts just got brought down. You’re going to college and I’m a vigilante crime lord!”

Jason furiously rubbed his palm into his eye before releasing a long breath,

“It’s just- really hitting right now.” He slid down the cabinet to the tile, “Fuck we’re having kids.”

Danny lightly floated to the floor before gently leaning into the taller man.

“Hey, you’re thinking about this like we’re going to do this alone. You’re forgetting that we have support. Tucker and Sam are moving over soon, Jazz is one call away. That doesn’t even count the 20 billion siblings you dad has got.”

The snort Jason let out was counted as a win.

“I mean do you know how many onesies I saw Dick looking up on his phone during those weeks of pranking?Tim was frantically googling what to expect while your expecting.”

“Really?”

Danny nodded solemnly,

“Duke and Damian were figuring out how to set up a nursery. You remember how Bruce reacted the first time. They’ll be excited! And we both know that the girls are going to flip!”

Danny gently nudged him in the side,

“Annnd you’ll have me. I’ll be at your side until you get annoyed by my presence!”

Jason gently unfolded himself and rested his head on Danny’s,

“You know that we’re going to have to come clean about our relationship right?”

With a dramatic sigh Danny got up and pulled Jason along,

“It was fun while it lasted, two and a half years of circumventing Brucie’s attempts of getting me to join the family only to be murdered for that same reason.”

“Nah, Old man isn’t who you should be worried about, Alfred on the other hand…”

As they sat down and turned on the morning news a calm finally fell onto Jason. With a glance down to his stomach he took a deep breath.

‘Yeah we can do this.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hoodlums:

@numbuh-7-knd, @phoenixdemonqueen, @lokiaddams,@thegatorsgoose,

@storm-and-fire , @elvesandlanterns @moedango , @skulld3mort-1fan , @apointlessbox , @samgirl98 @booberrylizard , @starmee-lodurrson, @idek618 , @littlefeather345 , @iosonotoro , @dxrksong @moonfirearc @terzatheunderscorerima @thegatorsgoose , @the-legal-shipper

[thrashkink-coven]

Worship a primordial Goddess of Liberation ✴️

Worship a primordial Goddess who helps you to experience pleasure to experience yourself,

who does not shame you for enjoying sex, who wants you to experience joy and love without shame or stigma- love for others as well as love for yourself.

Who’s eyes never falter, judge, or look down upon, who never discriminates, who is blind to prejudice, who never sees your desires as gross or unholy, who values your quirks and desperate habits, your urges and desires, who knows your need for love, kindness, and tenderness.

Worship a primordial Goddess who cheers for you every day, who sees you as a divine creature- a god- in yourself. Who treats you as an equal and respects you as a good friend. Who will never force you to abandon what you love or snuff your shining flame. Who will nurture you as you bloom into your most perfect self,

Worship a primordial Goddess who you were not forced to worship, but who you came to in honesty and love and chose to worship because you wanted to. Worship a primordial Goddess who will never force you to do anything, but guide you with wisdom and intuition. Who will not threaten you, but you praise you,

who will protect you viciously, and show all who wish you harm the holy wrath of a mother’s love,

who values your expression as an act of love, who admires your sexuality and gender as divine elements of the human experience.

Worship a primordial Goddess who values your orgasms, who gains joy from your satisfaction and relief, who laughs when you laugh,

who sees sex not only as a means to procreate, but to know oneself and their partner(s) in a most intimate and delicate way.

Worship a primordial Goddess who respects and understands your kinks, who understands how your body has stored your trauma and celebrates your bravery in exploring those things in a healthy and safe environment.

Worship a primordial Goddess who dances and drinks and indulges in sweets and sex, who understands that we are here to experience joy and love, who asserts that happiness and freedom are not sins, but the most powerful things we have in this world.

Worship a primordial Goddess who wants you to live and love and laugh without shame,

who wants you to live

truly live

your best most delicious life.

Worship Inanna, Give Glory to Venus. Hail the Queen of Heaven! ✴️

Happy Venus day! :)

[salllzy]

Sal's ramblings #4

Welcome to Sal's ramblings, here is number 4. Hope you enjoy it. ------ Alastor had secrets, there wasn't a demon in hell that didn't have any. But Alastor's secrets were different. So he had kept them tightly wrapped up and buried so deeply that no one would be able to find them. Not now. Not ever. He wouldn't let them. Alastor was a deer demon and as such he suffered through ruts, every year without fail he entered a rut. It was painful, uncomfortable and he despised it, the urge to mate and procreate wasn't something that he enjoyed. Vox had came close to finding out about his ruts, but Alastor had removed Vox from his life before Vox had chance to find out. The inhabitants at the hotel were none the wiser and he was going to keep them like that.

He had suffered through the loss of a child once, he had no desire to suffer through it again. The only consolation was that his child would be up in Heaven and not trapped down here with him. Hopefully, his mother was enjoying being a grandmother. Alastor didn't deny that he deserved to be in hell, he had killed over a hundred and thirty-three people, people who deserved it. But it didn't change the fact that he had done it. He didn't regret it either, they had been the scum of the earth that had abused those that were weaker than them. Children were meant to be protected and guided, not beaten and abused. He had killed more than his fair share of abusive parents, no one deserved to suffer as he had. It was part of the reason why he didn't try and bond with those who lived in the hotel, he wouldn't allow himself to have such weakness. Not when the Vees were still around and would use anything to destroy him. It didn't matter that he was stronger than them.

At one point Alastor had considered becoming more than partners with Vox, but when he had introduced Valentino. Alastor knew that Vox didn't care. Vox cared more about power, status and wealth than he did about the friendships that he had made. Alastor had overlooked some of Vox's more undesirable traits. The hypnotism and the way that Vox enjoyed bending other's will to his desires. But with Valentino? Well, Alastor had refused to overlook working with a rapist and paedophile and so he had terminated their business and their friendship. Alastor may have been a serial killer but he still had morals. Vox being Vox had thrown a tantrum and had then recruited Velvette to join him and Valentino to create the Vees. Alastor wished her the best of luck. But the events that had followed had solidified his desire to not let anyone else in. Rosie didn't count. Neither did Niffty. But everyone else? He kept them at a distance, he kept his walls up and refused to let them in. Regardless of who they were.

Then Lucifer moved into the hotel and that created more problems on top of the ones that he was already dealing with, attacks on the hotel increased. He was defending the hotel almost every day, the citizens of the Pride Ring seemed to think that it was a good idea to attack the King of Hell and while Alastor may not like Lucifer, he would be the first to admit that it was a stupid idea. Which meant that it could only come from the Vees. Due to the constant attacks, Alastor lost track of time and didn't realise that his rut had arrived early, the stress had triggered his rut. Which wasn't that uncommon. However, he didn't have a chance to hide himself away and instead was found by Lucifer. Lucifer helped him through his rut and while it hadn't been the worst thing that he had experienced Alastor, wished that it had been with someone who was his. His partner, his mate. Not the King of Hell and his flip-flop moods. Then Alastor discovered that he was pregnant and he had no intentions of staying at the hotel, not when he would be unable to hide his condition from them. So he handed in his notice and left. He had given them some excuse about not finding enough entertainment at the hotel any more, he poked fun at Lucifer and disappeared into the shadows.

He returned to his home that was well hidden and began to prepare for the birth of his child, not Lucifer's, his. It wasn't the first time that he had disappeared from Hell, he had done it before for a full seven years before he returned. This time would be no different. So he hid and he prepared. All the while the fear of being found lingered at the back of his head, he knew that he was no match for Lucifer and should the King decide that Alastor was an unfit parent, he could easily take the baby from him. Alastor didn't think that he could survive that again, no that was wrong. He knew that he wouldn't survive another loss like that but at the same time he wouldn't, couldn't use his pregnancy to trap Lucifer. Eventually, he had to call for Rosie's assistance. The birth was long and difficult and more than once Rosie had to bring him back from the brink. Before it was decided that it would be safe to cut the child out of him. He healed and he got the shock of his life when he realised that he had given birth to twins, two tiny little beings that would depend on him. So he pushed aside his pain and took care of them. Then one night he heard something in their room, and without thinking he entered the room. Only to find Lucifer standing over their cribs. But it wasn't the normal Lucifer that he had come to know, no, this was different. Full or fury and brimstone. "You have something of mine."

Alastor felt terror gip him, he was trapped. Lucifer had found them and he couldn't escape. He had no option but to submit, not for his sake but for theirs. For his children. ---------- Lucifer had admired the Radio Demon from afar, he would admit that Alastor's personality left a lot to be desired and regardless of how often Lucifer prodded and poked, Alastor didn't back down. No sinner had ever challenged him like this and Lucifer knew that no one but Alastor would. Then they had shared Alastor's rut and he had assumed that perhaps Alastor would see that he would be a good candidate. That it would be alright if he let his walls down around Lucifer. Only it hadn't happened like that, not even four months after they had shared Alastor's rut, Alastor handed in his notice and left. They had tried to find him, Charlie had been adamant that something must have caused Alastor to leave the hotel. Red eyes drifted towards the cribs, Charlie had been right but not in the way that any of them had thought about. Two tiny bundles were sound asleep, they shared traits of both him and Alastor and he felt fury. Alastor had robbed him of this, of watching Alastor swell with his creations. He was tempted to take the children and leave, to let Alastor suffer. But something stilled his hand, he didn't know what it was. But something was telling him not to, that if he did so then he wouldn't like the consequences of what would happen. Lucifer knew that there was more to Alastor than what anyone knew, the cannibal Overlord Rosie was as close to Alastor as anyone could get. But that didn't mean that he wasn't going to punish Alastor, he was, Alastor had run away and for that, he needed to be brought back into line. The look of terror in Alastor's eyes when he found them standing over the cribs did something to him, the way that the Overlord's hands trembled told Lucifer far more than words ever could. Alastor was terrified of him and most likely had been scared of him finding out about the pregnancy. The way that Alastor did everything in his power to divert Lucifer's attention away from the cribs and to him, the way that Alastor blocked Lucifer's view of their children. Lucifer could smell the terror that clung to Aalstor, it was sharp and sour and he didn't like it. So he stilled his hand, he didn't lash out like he wanted to. He had nothing to bind Alastor with, no deals that could be made, no bargains that would favour him. With one last look at his children, he left, he knew that Alastor wouldn't move. Not when it had been made clear that Lucifer could and would find Alastor regardless of where he hid. There was nowhere for Alastor to run. But now that he was back at the hotel and his temper had cooled it gave Lucifer time to think about what he wanted to do. The easiest option? To bind Alastor to him for all of eternity. That way Alastor would never be able to run. Alastor would be his and his alone. Along with any children that they might have in the future.

[pomegranate]

Ok, listen i love BJ just fine, he is certainly THE character of all time, but sometimes i struggle, i cannot move past the not one but two times he told Hawkeye and Margaret that their, problems, their suffering doesn't matter as much, because they are not married and haven't procreated (he is such an infuriating WASP sometimes), i think about those times and get mad at him all over again (mostly im mad because this 70's show didn't provide satisfying for me resolution to those moments and BJ got to get away with non-apologies, which is probably irrational on my part)

I get where you’re coming from, anon! He’s callously cruel in “Period of Adjustment” and “Wheelers & Dealers” when he lashes out at both Hawkeye and Margaret because of his own turmoil. And while I wish we’d had more time in the former episode for a proper resolution between BJ and Hawkeye (including a sober apology), the limitations of television at that time - like you say, with it being the 70s/80s pretending to be the 50s - means we get what we get & everything else must be dealt with through fanfic. I actually do think Margaret’s dressing down of BJ in W&D is immensely satisfying and while he doesn’t actually say the words “I’m sorry” at the end of that episode, he does show remorse and a willingness to eat his own humble pie - it’s just done in that typical sitcommy way.

The thing about BJ and his moments of cruelty is that they’re meant to be exceptional and unusual, but because the tone of the show has shifted by the later seasons, we don’t always get as satisfying a resolution as we’d like. And I think a big part of it is that BJ, who is by all accounts a kind and compassionate man when he arrives in Korea, is an example of what happens when good men are dragged into an immoral and unjust situation. It is unfair that he’s forced to miss the first two years of his daughter’s life and it’s understandable that he’s hurting about it. And it’s not fair that he takes it out on his closest friends, but that’s the ugly reality of what war can do to a person - if you’re constantly surrounded by senseless cruelty, you might find yourself emulating that senseless cruelty in ways you never thought you could. So as the series progresses, we see more examples of BJ losing his grip on the person he was before the war and having to come to terms with the fact that he’s changed. Even in GFA, up until the very end, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s never going to be the same. BJ is a man who appears to be afraid of losing his identity (father, husband, surgeon) so every time something happens that shakes his sense of self, we see him having a very hard time. His ability to be compassionate and caring seems to falter the most when this happens but again, because it’s a sitcom*, we’re meant to assume everything goes back to normal at the end of the episode.

I think part of why I like BJ so much is because of the flaws we see exposed during the later seasons - I like that he’s occasionally mean and selfish and unfair because it makes sense for what he’s been through. It’s what war can do to a man. (It can also make a man crack up - and I could write another essay on why people seem to ignore how the trauma of what happened with Hawkeye in GFA impacted those closest to him but that’s a post for another day).

WHOOPS sorry for the essay anon, I just love talking about this guy so thank you for giving me an opportunity to do so 😊

*I know calling it a “sitcom” is an oversimplification but it was technically part of that genre at the time, despite us probably classifying it as something else nowadays

[i-am-lakuna]

[‼️TW: This post is not sexual content itself however it talks about asexuality and thus also discusses sex.‼️]

Before pride month ends I want to talk about Transformers characters that are on the aroace spectrum!!

I want to clarify that since Cybertonians don't reproduce sexually that makes them all asexual in cannon!

...However the fandom still has a lot of different interpretations and headcannons. Some of these include procreation while others are robots being sexual for the sake of "fun" rather than biology. I personally feel VERY uncomfortable with the idea of sexual reproduction in transformers but fandom is fandom and I am well aware of how it ignores the cannon so this list is made with that in mind.

As for the aromantic part of this post....

Sadly none of those are actually cannon since the creators haven't said anything about it and it's never said out loud in the media these characters are from HOWEVER I feel like most of these are very heavily implied. If you're confused about labels please look them up!

Sorry this post only contains three characters, I'm writing this literally last minute before going to the airport lol. I feel like there are maybe some more that I've missed so you're welcome to comment or reblog if you want to add to the list!

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Shockwave: aromantic, asexual, could be aplatonic in some continuities.

I HAD to start with him. Speaks for itself really, if you're in the fandom you're probably familiar with how little emotion Shockwave expresses in general. Sadly though most people either see him as a completely emotionless monster or make him the super ooc :( He has no interest in sex or romance and some versions of him do not care for platonic bonds either.

The fandom sadly does not understand this, I'm not completely against him being shipped with other characters I just wish it was written properly and with his sexual/romantic orientation in mind. I feel like there's some interesting queer platonic lab partner shipping potential here but again this fandom is terrible at not sexualising him for some reason.

He does show care for others in SOME continuities, in Cyberverse we see that he used to be friends with Wheeljack and possibly some other characters. He does have emotions, even in other shows/media, we see him get visibly angry in TFP and Earthspark. So just saying that he doesn't feel anything is a straight up lie. He follows logic although we do see him make non logical choices when influenced by emotions, it's rare but it has happened.

I'm planning to make more content about him and being aroace spec soon. I want to show people that just because you don't feel forms of attraction or love towards others doesn't mean you're completely heartless. And yes I know an extremely stereotypical evil robot probably isn't the best character to use to prove a point like this but I just need people to stop mischaracterising him.

-

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Shadowstriker: aromantic, asexual.

[most of this is refering to her in Cyberverse, thought I do mention IDW briefly]

What is it with clearly aroace female characters, usually villains, and being called masc lesbians? No offence to lesbians but please y'all let us have some representation. Sorry pooks she doesn't want a girl, she doesn't want anyone actually. Which doesn't mean she doesn't value friendship, just look at how she interacts with Soundwave and Lazerbeak! That's found family if I've ever seen it!

I think she's someone who struggles a lot with emotions and intimacy just in general, though we do actually see her emotions slipping through the "mask" more towards the end of the show, even being happy [thought it was quite bittersweet] and part of a group hug in the last episode. Well done her for actually accepting physical touch that isn't punching someone in the face! She's a very untrusting character who tends to assume the worst in everyone and is really aggressive for most of the show. She has absolutely no interest in romance or sex and is probably apothisexual/apothiromantic. But as previously stated I think platonic love is really important to her. She's the type of person who would kill for her found family, in fact considering she's a Decepticon she probably has.

She's one of those extremely interesting and emotionally complex characters and yet somehow she's always overlooked. I see people talking about wanting more well written female characters and HERE SHE IS! Honestly I'd recommend watching Cyberverse even if you're just doing it for her, it's worth it. I could write a whole essay all about her. Can y'all tell she's my favourite? Because she is.

As for shipping I do like the idea of her being in a queer platonic ship with Flamewar and Slipstream in the IDW comics they're in, though again, I don't think people know how to write qp relationships...

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TFP Soundwave: demiromantic, asexual.

This one is only specific to one continuity and that's Transformers Prime. Not saying other versions aren't on the spectrum, I have a quite couple headcannons, though I feel they might be a bit ooc/self indulgent so I'm not including them since I'm trying to keep this list as "likely to be cannon" as I can.

In the show he doesn't speak and doesn't really have a face so he doesn't really express himself a lot. Though he still definitely shows emotion, just, differently I guess? He is uninterested in sex, I think he could be in a romantic relationship but it would have to be someone he's already emotionally attached to. Platonic love is extremely important to him but specifically his cassettes, they're his family. Others however.... I feel like he doesn't really care for a lot of the characters in the show but then again he doesn't show emotions much so he could just be hiding it.

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[austinslounge]

I know shippers probably think we're being hard on Austin and Kaia wrt their relationship, but a lot of it stems from the fact that not only does their relationship seem a bit weird/disingenuous, but a lot of it reminds us of other relationships in Hollywood that just didn't last.

That's why fans should never put put their whole entire stock into a celebrity couple. Most of these celebrity couplings are short-lived at best, and kind of phony at worst.

Austin and Kaia actually remind me of another Hollywood couple: Brad and Gwyneth Paltrow. I did a little digging in their old relationship together, and there are a lot of csimilarities actually.

Brad was the "Golden Boy" of Hollywood at the time, and Gwyneth is a Nepobaby actress. They ended up dating for about 3 years (the typical Hollywood romance time period) and then broke up. 👀

She was stated as talking about Brad on the Letterman show back in '96.

2 years later, in '98, they had already split up, and Gwyneth states in this interview below that she wasn't even sure why the public made such a big huge deal about their romance or even their breakup. It was not anything to her. She was 22 for goodness sakes --- dating a guy 10 years her senior. Sound familiar lol? 😅

FF to Min 2:16

At the time of this interview above, it seems as though Gwyneth had already moved on to actor Ben Affleck lol, and even think she had learned to not talk publicly about her relationships anymore, it seems that her relationship with Ben still didn't work out, and Gwyneth didn't end up marrying any of those men lol. She ended up marrying and procreating with Coldplay singer Chris Martin lol 😆

See? This is what I mean.

Look, Kaia herself will go on to date PLENTY of other men (and maybe even women?) in Hollywood after she and Austin break up. This is why it's not great to idolize these relationships.

Lots of these Hollywood romances don't last. Kaia is only 22. More than likely, Austin isn't going to be the last man she dates, or her future husband. And Kaia is more than likely not the last woman Austin will date either.

I know shippers are salivating for Kaustin to get married or have kids, just like I'm sure the media and the public were wishing for Gwyneth and Brad to get married rofl 🤣

Fast forward, Gwyneth and Chris divorced and he has moved on. Brad has gone on to marry AND divorce two other actresses after Gwyneth lol. 😅

I hate to break it to Kaustin shippers, but this is just the way of the world -- especially the Hollywood world. So all these Kaustin shippers who are living vicariously through Kaia (for whatever reason), and obsessed with them as a couple and salivating at the mouth at any new "content", they are in for a rude awakening when they eventually break up lol. 🤭

That's why I don't ship or put too much stock in Hollywood dating romances. Even when couples get married, they can eventually break up. Lol look at Ben Affleck and JLo. 👀 Brad and Jennifer Aniston. Brad and Angie. Leo and whoever lol 😆 Will and Jada. Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale. Taylor Swift and just about every guy in Hollywood lol 😆

Stop putting your hope in these romances. It's okay to think a couple is cute or whatever, but being obsessed or actively shipping even a real-life couple is just a little weird imo. 🥴

You can feel free to disagree, but this is just my own personal feeling on the issue.

[cherrycherish]

I want you to think about someone massive - belly stretching for dozens of feet; so large that they cannot move, but all of their needs are taken care of by others. Are they the last fertile person on Earth, the burden of repopulation resting solely on their shoulders? A pred who eats a whole town in single sitting? Someone who has unbirthed many, many people over the course of their life, and continues to add new additions?~

(I'm blending these options together, with a lil bit of sci-fi 💞)

Urso groaned as his whole body seemed to quake from the kicking of his pups, "Ahhh, I think it's nearly time..."

"You sure they're not just hungry, darling?" His lover purred, watching the movement of the pups.

"I literally just ate." He pointed to the peak of his swell, where some prey were clearly shifting around in his gut.

"Give it a few minutes, we don't want to get everyone riled up too soon." Lyra rubbed at one of the pup's elbows that was clearly jabbing Urso from within.

Urso moaned and leaned back, trying to get comfortable with his truly massive belly swollen out before him. He'd been enjoying life as an immobile broodmare for a long time, and had grown used to being at the mercy of his ever demanding pups.

Many many many years ago Urso had been just as human as everyone else, but for reasons beyond humanity's comprehension, energies began to change in humans. It seemed humans were the only ones affected by what was deemed a "time shift". Certain things in humans were too fast and others too slow, and nothing was consistent. Some had hearts that beat too fast and died quickly thereafter, some had skin that all but shed non-stop leaving them raw constantly, though most were sexually shifted, many would be quickly struck with sexual desire and then nothing, leaving people very rarely able to procreate, and most unwilling to risk the possibility of a child growing inside them in a few hours or a few years. As much as people feared being too fast, some were too slow, slow to think, slow to move, slow to breathe. Urso hadn't discovered what he was affected with, everything seemed normal, though he knew something was either far too fast or slow.

Whatever caused the time shift was never discovered, there were theories, but nothing concrete. Along with the change in time, some people began to see things that were previously unseen, Urso was among those lucky few. He was terrified at first but upon realizing that the odd entities did little more than acknowledge his presence, it wasn't too difficult to navigate.

The only time an entity spoke to him, it was some sort of wish granter, a genie or a fairy or something, notoriously untrustworthy, but with the state of things Urso couldn't exactly refuse. So many societies had collapsed into chaos, turns out humans don't handle an inability to enjoy sex well at all. What did he need to wish for in order to have some semblance of normalcy and safety?

He of course tried to wish for things to go back to normal, to undo the time shift all together, but the creature had refused. It didn't explain what the limitation of the wishes were which didn't help.

Ultimately, Urso could only wish for the ability to bless people with children that were unaffected by the time shift.

The spirit didn't refuse this, and with the wave of a hand they were in a beautiful open field, another wave of its hand and a huge stone building appeared amongst the flowers. Then it was gone. Urso, with no clue where he was or what to do, could only go into the odd building and hope to find an explanation.

It was a massive structure, like a palace, and was well stocked with food and medicines and many of the luxuries that had disappeared with society's collapse. The giant library looked like it would take years to fully look through, and much of it appeared to be contents about survival and life skills. As he finished looking around the entire place, returning to the biggest room inside, he still had no idea what he was meant to do exactly.

Then a group entered the place, quickly running into Urso.

"Is this place yours?" The man who looked to be leading the group asked. He was tall and rugged looking, long dark hair, muscles, tan skin, he looked like an actor.

"Uh, yes, I would say so."

"We've been sent here to help you with your wish." He held out his hand which Urso shook readily.

"I'm Urso. And you are?"

"Lyra. Nice to meet you."

He was introduced to the group and though he was still uncertain what he was meant to do, showed them around the place. Soon they were working together to make things more livable in what they were now calling home, saving seeds from their food stores and growing new food, taking the long trail to the nearest town to share their supplies, which through some magical means always replenished overnight. It seemed that the palace was nearly frozen in time, barely crawling forward at all, meaning those living within were effectively free from the time shift as long as they were inside. It wasn't long before more people joined them, growing their numbers and developing an odd culture of their own together.

Along with a melting pot culture, Urso also found himself receptive to Lyra's flirtations. The two were even better at leading together. As they had an unending supply of food, it didn't surprise anyone that they all looked healthy, Urso was happy that his wish seemed to include benefits. Their clear well-being attracted more people over time, and it seemed as more people lived there, the stockpile only grew.

As he was walking through the library looking for something to read he found an old tome that inexplicably fell off the shelf closest to him. It was full of information on bizarre magic, depicting all kinds of mind boggling feats. He tried showing it to the others, but it seemed they all lacked the eyes to see the unseen and couldn't read a word of it.

Pouring over the old tome for days, Urso found what he needed to do at last. Painting a series of glyphs on his skin and reading aloud the chant from the pages, his body began to change right before his eyes. No longer merely healthy, Urso was growing fat, moaning as he finished reading the chant and his body swelled wider. Quickly it became impossible for him to hold himself up, his muscles unable to lift such sudden weight, and he was stuck sitting on his widening rear.

"This isn't too terribly big..." He muttered as the growing finally stopped, he could probably move with some help. His body felt huge, but pleasurable. The soft skin, the stretch marks, the jiggle, it felt right.

"Lyra!" He called, hoping that someone would hear him through his door. He probably should've asked for someone to help him with this strange ritual. "Lyra! Anybody?"

He heard hurried footsteps before his door flew open.

Lyra stood in the doorway dumbstruck, eyes looking over the much larger man, "Are... Are you okay?"

"Yes, but I can't move. Could you give me a hand? There's a spell for weightlessness in that book there, but I can't reach it."

By the end of the day Urso was waddling about the palace, Lyra practically glued to his side.

"Just what were you thinking doing that alone? What if I hadn't heard you? What if something had gone wrong?"

"I'm perfectly fine, and you did hear me. Everything worked out, didn't it?"

"Was this what you were wishing for?"

"You didn't know before you came?"

"No. I just knew we had to come here."

"I wished for a way to give people children that didn't have the time shift."

"And what does that have to do with you getting so big?" Despite his less than polite choice of words, Urso could see the desire in his eyes.

"Well, it's a requirement to make my wish happen. I've got all the spells I'll need to make this work, but first we should explain it to everyone, let's have a meeting."

Urso explained to the others in the encampment what his plans were, and that he'd need sixteen others to complete the spell, eight willing and eight unwilling. Once he explained what the others would need to do in order to complete the spell, eight people readily volunteered, much to Urso's delight.

Eight other people were dragged to the palace while Urso set everything up in the massive central room they'd be performing the spell in. The people of the encampment bowed down before Urso as Lyra fed him each of the eight outsiders. These sacrifices were all kicking up a storm in his stomach but it was a thrilling sensation. He felt so full and had to gulp so hard to swallow them all, and yet it felt so good once each of them was inside.

"Now for the fun part." Urso smiled as he approached the eight volunteers, lowering his wet cunt onto the first one in the row, the spell he'd applied to his body allowing him to stretch to accommodate the sheer size.

The combined wriggling of the prey in his gut on top of the shifting volunteers being pulled into his womb was ecstacy. The glyphs painted on him glowed as his body accepted all eight of his new pups. He still felt positively gravid, belly stretched around all sixteen of them, it seemed his weightless spell was wearing off.

Lyra helped him get settled on a giant cushion before going to find some cream for his lover's over stretched skin. Urso could only sit there in bliss, his mind spinning with plans.

The powerful magic required eight willing volunteers to act as a harness to Urso's magic, from within his body he could steer their excess energy to others to form healthy pregnancies in anyone near him. The eight sacrifices in his gut were giving him the energy to make such a sudden transformation safely.

The pups inside his womb never regressed over the years, in fact they grew quite plump inside his spoiled body, and would eagerly move about within him whenever they got hungry or it was time to transfer their excess energy into others. Over the years, more people heard about the "fertile palace", migrated to it and found themselves well fed and heavy with children that would be free from the time shift. Some had no desire for children and were happier serving Urso or being fattened up and consumed to feed his huge swell. It was discovered that his milk was good at healing sicknesses and soon he was almost always attached to a pump.

Urso was content as a fertility conductor, planting healthy pregnancies into willing worshippers wasn't difficult work, and he enjoyed watching everyone grow. The children born in the palace were healthy and happy and had no trouble with the time shift. If he could've jumped for joy when it was first confirmed, he would've, the best he could manage was jiggling with delighted laughter.

"Hmm, Love, I think it really is time... Urp!" All the eager kicking of his pups along with his recent meal was a lot of sensation all at once, despite how huge he'd gotten, it wasn't any less intense now than it had been in the beginning.

"Alright, let's get everyone ready." Lyra opened a door and several naked worshippers made their way into the room, slowly approaching their benefactor's mountain of a belly. His belly towered over even tall people, and seemed to stick out so far, Urso couldn't see past it and his globe breasts hardly at all, but he didn't mind. This was what he wanted to be, after all.

One by one people approached and pressed themselves against Urso's huge body, as he directed energy into each of them they began to swell with brood and milk. Each one was nicely round as they waddled to an area of cushions to catch their breath. Urso could see that some were going to have multiples and others heavy singles, the energy he'd placed in them choosing randomly how many they'd carry.

As the last of the eager worshippers were filled with young, Urso felt his own pups settle inside him finally.

"Whoo, you boys finally tucker yourselves out in there?" He asked quietly, giving his heavy form a rub.

Lyra gave his belly a kiss before meeting his lips passionately, "Are you gonna fill people up long after the time shift is fixed?"

"I don't see why not to. Even once the time shift is gone, plenty of people will still want to be filled with babies." He smiled as his little ones seemed to finally go to sleep, "Besides, I can't let these pups out, this is where they belong."

"What if I told you that there's apparently another influx of worshippers arriving within the week." Lyra's eyes burned with lust.

"They'd still take a bit of time to settle in, get a bit fat, then I'm sure we could fill them up too. You like watching me fill everyone up."

"I do. I'll dote on you and these pups until the end of time. Even if everyone else leaves, I'm staying and tending to you and the pups. Now," Lyra kissed one of his chins, "It's time for dessert. You worked hard filling all these people, you've earned a reward."

"I love you." Urso grinned, tears pricked in the corner of his eyes, "You and the pups are the best part of my wish."

"I love you too."

[laundryandtaxes]

I think it's pretty clear by now that I'm broadly in favor of open dialogue between people with different viewpoints for many reasons, but while I am not at all opposed to ideology on its face I do think it's fascinating how some people are fully unable to make room for basic animal life as part of their political understanding of human beings, and seeing those failures causes me to raise an eyebrow. For instance, there's a certain portion of well off liberals who see choosing to have children as a wild, foolish, even confusing decision, and there's a certain portion of feminists who are maintain that any desire to be attractive to the sex or sexes you're interested in is a manifestation of patriarchy. But we are very literally animals, which means things which are true of animals must be true of us. No matter what our expressed reasoning, for the most part, people have children because animals have the desire to procreate. Likewise, wishing to attract a mate is so powerful an animal drive that it has driven phenotypical evolution in both the males and females of species from birds to bugs, and caused males of many species to learn to adorn themselves for elaborate dances or other courting rituals. That's very clearly a long way away from doing a full face of makeup every single day for a retail job, but if an ideology is truly making you believe that it's baseline weird to care even a little about one's appearance or that it's baseline weird and unacceptable to wish to have children, it is probably separating you from your own humanity.

[breelandwalker]

Worm Moon - March 7 2023

The world is thawing and spring will soon be sprung. Dust off your garden tools and get ready for the Worm Moon!

Worm Moon

The Worm Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of March in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the renewed visible presence of earthworms, which begin to bubble up in gardens and on sidewalks as the spring thaw approaches and increased temperatures and rainfall loosen the soil enough for them to emerge. And of course, this is accompanied by the presence of spring harbingers like robins and local songbirds, who are very happy to see this renewed bounty.

The March moon, if it occurs prior to the spring equinox, is also the Lenten Moon, named for the Christian holiday of Lent. Indigenous names for this moon include Goose Moon (Algonquin and Cree), Sugar Moon (Ojibwe), Sap Moon (Shawnee), and Crow Comes Back Moon (Northern Ojibwe).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

Full moons are both the beginning and end of the lunar cycle. With the Worm Moon, we can look forward to the beginning of spring and the yearly harvest cycle. So now is the perfect time for seasonal divination, plans for the coming months, and the setting of goals for the future, both short-term and long-term. You can also check in with goals you may have set back in January and record your progress. (Remember - even a little progress is still progress!)

If you're an observer of astrology, you might be interested to know that Saturn and several other planets are experiencing transitions this month, some of them for the first time in several years. For those who work in celestial spheres, this may herald a long-awaited breath of fresh air and (hopefully) positive changes to come.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

The Worm Moon heralds the imminent start of the planting season. If you've got green fingers, now is the time to begin planning your garden for the season. Prepare your sprouting trays and browse your favorite seed catalog for inspiration.

As the Spring Equinox approaches (March 20th), this is a good time to start putting together any seasonal observances you'd like to make. It's also time for that all-important spring cleaning, so open up those windows on a warm day and air out all the staleness from winter. As you scrub and dust and declutter, you can also magically cleanse your space of stagnant, disruptive, or unwanted things, replacing them with your own energy and your good wishes and goals for the upcoming season.

Consider also how you can change or begin new routines and habits to improve your life, make better choices, streamline your schedule, or just give yourself a much-needed break. If there's something hanging around that no longer serves you, now is the time to consider bidding it adieu and moving forward to a new path.

This is also an excellent time for spells focused on fertility, optimism, and new growth. It's important to remember that fertility spells don't just have to focus on procreation. They can also be geared toward planting, creating, opportunity, inspiration, motivation, prosperity, abundance, and anything that requires nurturing and productivity.

The season of growth and renewal is upon us, so it's time to Ready, Set, GROW!

Happy Worm Moon, witches! 🌕🌱

Further Reading:

Worm Moon: Full Moon for March 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac

Worm Moon: The Stunning Full Moon of March 2023, The Peculiar Brunette

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison

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[omens-for-ophelia]

I love your art! Would love to know about your process if that’s something you’re interested in talking about!

hello! i am so sorry it took so long to respond to this 🩷

(...i suppose this means the first step in my art process is to faff about and procrastinate and dither for ages 🤭 oops)

i am so flattered that you are interested! 🥺🩷

i wish i had a truly substantial answer for you - unfortunately i don't know if i would consider myself as having a standard "process", per se. i tend to play around with something new each time, as i am still very much getting back into my art and still learning.

i will put my current "process" under the cut for those who may be curious? 🩷

so i guess my first step is to gather inspiration & references! i have a bunch of boards on pinterest for poses clothing inspo, things that are just 'vibes'... there are a few life drawing sites i like, as well as (of course) the Good Omens Reference Library discord, which is a genuinely brilliant community-built resource (praise be to @orayart & @patibuart 🩷) once i have my references and a few ideas of how i want to work them together, i start with the sketch - i usually work on a square canvas in procreate with a neutral toned bg (white hurts my eyyyyes) and normally i'll throw a paper texture over it (there are a lot of great resources like that on gumroad to download both for free and in paid packs)

i am clearly attached to sketching aziraphale in blue and crowley in red to begin with hehe (background is usually in green), using the procreate HB pencil or the cube brush, as it lets me visually see which lines are which - my sketching is very very messy in the early stages! and i don't usually like to do proper linework - instead i just duplicate the layer, lowering the opacity on one and then refine the sketch down in stages... then colouring the sketch to a more neutral dark grey or brown

i am aware this isn't necessarily good practice, since it can make some of my work seem stiff and flat - but even when i try and leave the lines messy i just can't seem to leave well enough alone

at this point, the 'process' really just becomes a game of 'what am i in the mood to do, what suits the piece, am i painting this or am i done, etc'

for the most part, i will use a solid cube brush to lay down the flat colours, then use ink wash brushes, spatter brushes or watercolour brushes to add texture and shading or colour - experimenting along the way for the most part! then some different layer modes to play with lighting etc if needed!

i have NO idea if any of this is interesting... i am hardly an artist with a refined style or process as of yet, but i am getting there. i've been making art since i was small, but before GO i hadn't drawn seriously for years and years beyond doing D&D character art for me and my friends!

anyway! thank you for getting this far if you managed it! so grateful for you all 🩷