#prayer au

[baskeigh-ball]

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NEXT

(think i bit off more than i can chew with this one, gamers (’._.) might have to dial back the shading/backgrounds for the rest of this just so i can keep my sanity)

[earthayan]

well PT!Sans just love some hellish gag. (And then I just recently learned this joke few weak ago *lol) btw, what is that word SP saying...... Basically, it's a human with just a torso and a head. ((*cough XPAU belong to @xpau-official Error belong to CrayonQueen SP , PT!Sans and Prayer belong to me. Also something made for fun.

[msfcatlover]

Red Hood Steph: “I always know things will work out, as long as I have Kindness & Faith!”

Tim: “Is that seriously what you named your guns?”

RH!Steph: “No, don’t be silly!”

RH!Steph: “…It’s what I named my swords.”

[bonefall]

What position do you think the cats would take to pray? would they bow or just sit or aomething else?

I think they should tilt their head straight upwards, so that their whiskers are stirred by the breeze. If they worship the stars, it makes sense that wind is part of that. Invocation is like asking permission of StarClan to speak to one of your ancestors, like using an operator, so if the wind stirs your whiskers it means they're answering.

Proper prayer etiquette includes going outside. You don't pray in dens or caves.

You're not praying to the Moonplace. You're directly seeking an audience.

WindClan, ironically, is the least strict about this. Comes from a mixture of tunneling culture and the fact they confess to their Cleric more than other Clans.

RiverClan probably has a phrase that goes something like, "Your wishing wind was an undertow" which roughly means "you were badly mistaken and should have known better"

I'd also combine it with them sitting on their haunches and putting their paws/wrists together, "rabbit sniffing the air" style.

[nelsaqift]

[tma au] tried to format this to be insta friendly because they sure do love their squares over there but i forgot it does Not work like that on here

[fromdusks]

OCEAN VUONG, Prayer For The Newly Damned

[wildlife4life]

Seven (+) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by super amazing @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @glorious-spoon @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz @devirnis @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks and @diazsdimples. Thank you all so much!

Alright, so I know haven't been as active since dropping the first chapter of NFL Buck. I've just been sort of down because that same day, the Super Bowl Champs had their parade and rally, and just after it ended there was a mass shooting. My younger sister was there with some friends and they got away unharmed, but when she didn't answer my message for a long 30 minutes, I truly thought the worst. I've just been so sad and angry for Kansas City, for the US really and I just couldn't get into the spirit of writing. I'm not getting into the politics of it all today and my sister is coming for a visit soon, so I'm feeling marginally better. KC Strong.

First chapter of NFL Buck has been dropped, but everything else I've posted for this fic can be found here. Here is a snippet from the Eddie Begin's arc of NFL Buck.

Hurricane Harvey was relentless for almost four days, bullying southern Texas with unforgiving wind and an exurbanite amount of rain. Houston fire department and so many others worked day and night to help those who had not evacuated.  It was absolute chaos, and it blew through Eddie’s entire life. The storms had wreaked havoc on the cell towers, which meant service was spotty to none and radios became the main source of communication for rescuers. By some miracle, though, the internet connection at the firehouse held strong. It was slow and glitched out here and there, reminding Eddie too much of his time in Afghanistan. He watched his infant son grow up through a screen, with his very upset wife barely holding on and his parents hovering nearby, souring the video calls even further. Christopher was no longer a whimpering baby in his mother’s lap but looking at his saddened son on a glitching iPad screen with a tense Maddie sitting beside him, was too familiar.  Add in the argument he had with Buck just before, and the threat of danger just outside the firehouse, Eddie was back to being a scared 19-year-old in war riddled country. “Dad, grandma said we’re not going to visit Buck anymore. That he’s too busy. And Maddie tried to call him, but he didn’t answer and…” The eight-year old’s voice trails off, his lips trembling. Eddie bites his inner cheek hard. This was on him. He gave into his mother’s worries and demands about traveling through Texas during the hurricane.  Helena was too stubborn and being his mother, she knew every damn button to push, and Eddie was tired of fighting.  So, he reluctantly agreed to cancel the visit and his mother grinned a little too sharply before stating, “I’m sure Maddie will enjoy having her brother to herself.” Another ploy to take Christopher and Eddie fucking fell for it. Then his mother took it a step further by graciously telling Buck and Maddie herself, that Christopher would no longer be joining them in Dallas and to enjoy their time together for as long as they need it. Eddie knew his mother didn’t approve of his relationship with Buck, more so than his previous one with Shannon. The only reason she kept her mouth shut was the potential back lash of upsetting Christopher. But she already succeeded in having a hand in driving away Shannon and she probably believed she could do the same with Evan.

With this fic, there are a lot of canon events with twists. The usual timeline does not exists. But I hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @theotherbuckley @lover-of-mine @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @aroeddiediaz @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiescowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @buck-coded @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley @nmcggg

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

i'm a little sad at how sparse steddyhands and stizzy art and writing is on here now after the finale (thankfully, i am still digging through the couple thousand fics up on ao3 so i'm not totally bereft)

because during the airing of the season there was new stuff in the tags every day, sometimes even every few hours, but i think the finale really punched all of us in the face

there's lots of good stuff from before s2 to go digging through of course, and ao3 and twitter still have some new art and fic and memes if you go looking for it, but the difference from before and now seems a bit stark

don't misunderstand me, this isn't me being defeatist, just being a bit melancholy (and mad at the s2 finale tbh lol) about it. shout out to the regulars i see in the tags still making stuff and posting jokes, ya'll are doing the most and i wish you all the passion and motivation and time to create in the world <3

[foileadeux]

halfway theeere

[pillowspace]

(Considering recent chapter)

*prays to sunna* bitch

/j

[kelpiemomma]

forgive the random idea, but I was thinking about how much I love stories about people with power and in power, able to destroy lives and countries without a thought, being immeasurably strong and deadly... Being so soft and gentle towards their child.

Ingo being a god, a god who's been around for millenia. He's seen nations rise and fall, people come into and out of power. He's been revered and feared and forgotten and renamed. He's lived inthe heavens and on the earth. He's been mortal as an immortal, living a human life before dying and returning to godhood. He is old and tired and powerful. He has caused forest fires and destroyed mountains. He has provided bountiful harvests and life saving rains.

And then one day a child is left on the floor of his temple. A pair of wanderers stayed the night, and with nothing else to their names they left their infant behind. Ingo has no idea who they were, barely noticed that they had lingered, but the disturbance of the child left behind - a taste of innocence that lingers on his tongue, like the breeze over a wheat field and the cleanliness of a newborn - has him going to see what was left.

He's never had a child left as an offering, as payment. Sacrifices? Yes. But this one is still alive. She is so small, her eyes so big, and she looks at him without fear. He can't remember the last time he was looked at without fear, without blind devotion. He hesitates to touch her, not sure how to be gentle, and she reaches out first. She grabs his finger and begins to chew on it.

And Ingo is lost.

[tired-reader-writer]

Writing progress temporarily screeched to a halt because I fell down a worldbuilding rabbit hole.

I will report back when the writing signal fuzzes back into focus.

[maegalkarven]

Empty prayers

Logical continuation of the AU where everything flies off the rails at the Moonrise Towers:

https://www.tumblr.com/maegalkarven/731364247822598144/au-where-dark-urge-didnt-loose-memories-and-the?source=share

Following the derail of all of his plans by his own hands, Lord Enver Gortash contemplates the future. Luckily, he doesn't have to do it alone.

m!Dark Urge x Enver Gortash, Karlach.

"I don't think he will answer."

Enver doesn't turn around to look at the bhaalspawn. He hears the crunching of dead leaves and sticks under the man's boots and feels a familiar presence close to his shoulder.

Regardless of that, he does not turn.

There's a small, carefully constructed altar in front of him. Perfect, it looks like, perfect with the offering and the incense burning.

Yet his god is silent.

"Enver, really, I don't think Bane will-"

"He has to," comes out a little bit harshly, a little bit forcefully. There's a bitter taste of desperation on his tongue. He pushes it back. "I am his Chosen-"

"I don't think you are anymore."

"I am," he insists as his voice rings louder, pitching to a high, urgent note. "I am the Chosen of Bane, I am his Hand, I am his Voice, I am his Will; and he will answer me."

He feels Nemo's piercing stare burn into the side of his face, but does not look up. Does not meet the familiar honey of the gaze he thought he has lost.

Does not think of all the implications this gaze brings.

Nemo is alive, here, next to him; so close Enver can touch him.

Yet somehow everything is ruined.

A pair of firm hands lay on his shoulders gently and he almost flinches at the touch.

But it's just Nemo.

"No," his bhaalspawn whispers softly. "No, he will not. You have failed him, my dear, just the way I've failed father. You chose wrong," Enver tries to move away from the touch, but the man's fingers only dig in deeper.

"You should have pushed me into the pool. You should have taken Orin's side in the conflict or did not intervene at all. But you," a deep, heavy sigh and a weight of Nemo's body pressing against Gortash's back.

"You chose me. Consciously or not, but you put my survival above everything else; above our plan, above your alliance, above your god. And gods like your and mine do not tolerate disobedience."

"You created this plan with me," Enver tries. "We were brilliant together. Orin has ruined everything; she could not control herself. She was a liability-"

"She was the Chosen of Bhaal," Nemo whispers right into his ear, the breath coming out hot. "It was not your place to decide if she was liability or not. And anyway, I don't think this is why you did what you did."

"It was her own fault," he tries again and feels like a child trying to avoid the punishment. He remembers, long time ago, in a house he prefers to not think about, in a cell what was his home, he used to plead the same way.

Raphael never listened.

"And Ketheric's; they compromised the plan, they put everything in danger, I was just trying to fix it, to put things right-"

Nemo hums.

"Have you tried telling Bane that?" As the matter of fact, he did. "I doubt he'd take this as an excuse." He didn't. "Bhaal beneath, Ketheric was right, wasn't he? Gods only answer when they have something to say. I guess Bane has nothing to say to you anymore."

"He will answer me," Enver insists with the persistence of the damned. "He needs me."

"He really, really doesn't," Nemo presses himself closer and Gortash allows himself a moment to lean back into the touch, to seep out any comfort it provides and feed to his weary soul.

Nemo. Nemo. Alive.

And it only took everything to go to the hells for that to happen.

"I know he hears me," Enver tries again.

"Oh, I have no doubt he does. But Enver, darling, don't you think this whole...fiasco would look bad for Bane? Don't you think the most sensible thing he could do would be to wash his hands clean of this?"

Enver hates to admit Nemo is right; it would be the sensible thing to do. It would be what Gortash himself would do in Bane's place: abandon the lost cause and move on. Find another, better Chosen.

Only there's no better Chosen than him.

"I am the only one who can realize all of his plans," he tries not to think about it. About his Steel Watch, unstable with one of the stones in control of the Brain. Of the cult of Murder under the foot of a thrall of the said thing, of the prodigal murderer as a meat puppet of the entity beyond their comprehension. Of Ravengard, untadpoled, no doubt giving a speech at the inn right now.

Everything went to complete and utter shit. But he can fix it; he can. Surely Bane knows that.

Surely Nemo does.

Nemo lets out a dark, unkind type of a laugh.

"You just destroyed all of his plans," he murmurs almost lovingly. "All and every single one of them. There's no recovering from that, only moving forward."

Enver hates what Nemo is right. And he hates what he knows what Nemo is right. And he hates Bane, and he hates Orin, and stupid Ketheric with his stupid sacrifice for a bitch of a daughter who did not deserve it, and he hates Raphael - honestly, fuck Raphael; and he hates his parents, he hopes they'll die, and he hates Karlach and her big open heart what was ripped out yet is still somehow inside her ribcage-

And he hates Nemo for how much he cares for Nemo, and really, all of this is actually his fault, if not for him, then-

"Are you done with your pity party?" And speak of the devil. Oh, well, a tiefling with infernal engine for a heart. "Duke Ravengard is holding a council," typical. "And your presence is required."

His old friend gives him a short, bitter look.

"This is not a pity party," Nemo argues and the woman snorts.

"Sure looks like one. Gods, it truly is a sign, isn't it?" She whistles. "I used to think I want to see you dead, but seeing you like this, fallen from grace, demoted to what you have always been - that feels even better."

A bubbling, bitter anger raises in him and Enver moves to stand-

"Oh, cut out with this," Nemo interrupts, his hands still firmly on Enver's shoulders. "He saved my life."

"And this is what I still don't understand," Karlach argues. "But it doesn't really matter; this is me actually playing nice. Trust me, if I've decided to give him back the treatment he gave me, he would not be standing right here. Or, well, sitting right here."

"We are all in the same boat now," Nemo tries placidly. "Dealing with the consequences of-"

"-Enver Gortash's actions."

"Our actions. I was involved, remember?"

"You didn't have a choice," she argues. "Bhaal made you; cut from his very own flesh. You have known no life but what your evil father showed you. You were not acting on your own accord. He," an angry gesture at Gortash. "Acted on his own accord. And sold me to Zariel. So she could rip off my heart and make me an unwilling soldier in her war."

"Oh, stop playing the victim," Enver snarls. "I gave you a chance to be something greater than you were. I gave you a chance to be stronger, better, invincible. With this engine no one could touch you, no one could hurt you. It was practically a dream come true and you threw it away, the ungrateful brat you have always been."

Fire erupts from her engine, wrapping itself against Karlach's entire body. Her eyes blaze as she steps forward, and for a moment Enver almost feels...That can't be it, he is still wearing his coat.

He scrambles to his feet, reaching for the crossbow. Bane is silent, he will always be silent from now on, but Gortash doesn't really need him, he doesn't need anyone-

"I'll make you choke on these words," Karlach threatens and damn it, why does it take so long to fix up his damn crossbow, is it broken-

Then a small, thin figure moves to stand between them.

Nemo looks...so insignificant compared to Karlach; he has no fire engine running in his chest, he has no muscles to rival hers, he has no claws and no horns.

Just plain looking half-elf with a crooked dagger in his hand.

"No," he says firmly. "You will not kill each other. Either you two calm the fuck down or you'll have to kill me first. And," a quick glance behind. "I really don't think this is what either of you wants."

"Nemo," Karlach frowns. "Step away. He had it coming-"

"No."

"Nemo-"

"No," the bhaalspawn snarls and something sparks in his eyes, deep, dark and deadly. Bhaal is here. Bhaal has gone nowhere.

Orin was wrong.

"You are not killing him, you're not as much as harming him, Enver Gortash is mine."

Karlach actually looks taken aback at that.

"Yours to do what?"

"Mine to keep, and mine to torture and, if it comes to it, mine to kill. But he is mine and he will stay that way. Bane is finally out of the way, so don't think I'll let you interfere."

"Nemo, this is- You're not exactly-"

"He is the only fucking person who has ever got it," there's a bleeding desperation oozing from the spawn's voice.

"The only man to be my equal. The only true partner I had ever had. I went to the Moonrise Towers with the dreadful knowledge I'd die here, with the belief this man would stick a dagger so deep into my back it'll protrude from my chest. And instead," he is breathing heavily, his broken, pathetic mess of the murderer. Perfect.

"He saved me. He took my side in a fight what had nothing to do with him. He chose me when it was an an obviously stupid thing to do, he has forsaken everything by letting me live. You cannot have him."

They stand like that for a while in a complete silence.

Karlach, double axe in her hands and shock mixed with pity in her gaze.

Nemo, breathing heavily, hands trembling, his own blade digging deep into the flesh of his palm, a thin red string of blood trailing down into the dirt.

Enver, mesmerized, taking in every breath, every shift of his unlucky, broken, forsaken mistake of a lover. Elevated by the sheer force of his devotion.

They need no gods but the ones they create. They need no gods but themselves.

Finally Karlach sighs and lowers the axe.

"For you," she drops down, turning away. "Only for you, for everything you've done for me and the friendship we have. But make no mistake, I am watching him," a rude gesture Enver reciprocates. "And if he does one wrong step, his messy fucking head will come flying off."

"I'd like to see you try," Enver starts and immediately gets kicked into the ribs with Nemo's elbow. Brat.

"Alright," the bhaalspawn smiles. "Thank you. You said something about the council?"

And somehow the end of the world gets delayed for just one more day.

[iminyourfandom]

actually the worse part of having an au/fic is trying to come up with a name for it

[bonefall]

considering spiderleg is like *that* and squirelflight being diehard fire alone i cant imagine them being friends in BB like they were sort of in the canon books. were they or did it disolve after time passed and spiderleg got more into traditional/thistle law. also who were her other friends? i saw daisy was in another ask but who else (really eager to know who booed at mousefur and thronclaw lol)

So to begin with, Squirrelflight is in an odd place, generation-wise. She is born while Firestar is on his quest with Brokenstar, and grows up in a period of peace and prosperity.

Unfortunately she keeps failing her goddamn assessments

So while Leafstripe is a fully trained Cleric, Sorreltail recovered from being hit by a car and graduated, and Ashfur tried to hold out for her for a while before moving up, Squirrelpaw is here absolutely eating leaf litter with her wrecklessness

Goldenflower, her mentor, even tries to tell Firestar that she's not being vindictive, just in case he got the wrong idea. He assures her that, no. No he understands <:/

So Spider, Shrew, and Squirrel end up as apprentices together. There was a time where they were really close, getting in trouble in spite of their three strict mentors. Bad influence trio, all of them coming from respected parents and doing their best to embarass them.

That only started to change when Squirrelpaw went on the Great Journey, but then returned just in time to see Shrewpaw die. A lot of things were different, now. Squirrelpaw came back exalted for being on a holy quest. Spiderpaw had watched a lot of his clanmates die. She was spending more time with Brambleclaw; he had become very protective of his little brother, Birchkit.

They had both grown in a flash. Hard times will do that to you.

During the Great Journey, Spiderpaw was really close to the other Clan apprentices while Squirrelpaw hung out with the Sundrown Patrol. Spider looks back at this time in his life with a lurch in his stomach that he can't put into words.

He was there when Paw Soup was made. Talonclaw and Smokefall were friends of his even more than they were friends of little Birchkit. Spiderleg just left it behind when they got to the Lake, where his little brother never could. Clan loyalty, strength, honor... all that. He felt like he had to make a choice.

As a person, Spiderleg is torn in many directions by all of the things that happened to him. His head-of-construction father, his educator mother, his friend who won status by breaking the rules, three dead siblings before his warriorhood, the destruction of his ancestral home, the journey that challenged everything, his mentor Thornclaw, the backfired meeting, ardor for Daisy, crashing down with unwanted kits...

His consistent trait is that he's easily swept up in whatever fills him with the most passion, tossing himself into things until a bubbling sense of disgust makes him break it off. Regardless of if it was the good thing to do or not.

Religious euphoria and self-flagellation just seems to stabilize that impulse, for him.

The last time he was friends with Squilf was during their vigil upon reaching the Lake. They did it together, because they were both long overdue. He thought about Shrewpaw, and wondered if she did too.

But neither one of them broke the silence between them. They still haven't.

[illuminatedferret]

If it's a final call to ask for more... can I hear about project number 8? (Or if that one has been asked, number 1?) I love getting sneak-peeks and behind the scenes info on ideas and thoughts of what's going on and why!

ALRIGHT sorry for the delay! On the upside you've asked about a WIP I can actually give a snippet for, haha.

I definitely like writing fic where the plot is something I haven't seen someone else tackle yet. However, I also like using fic as an opportunity to mess around with tropes that are more common and smash them together to see what happens. (Coincidentally, WIP #1 is also this sort of fic) The Coffin Prayer WIP combines coffin fics and 'xie lian can hear prayers' fics to tackle the idea that while in the coffin, Xie Lian starts to be able to hear Hua Cheng's prayers to him. That's kind of a loaded premise as it is, so I'll give you a little bit of Jun Wu monologuing to explain the premise of the fic.