styofa doing anything
wallacepolsom
blake kathryn
todays bird
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Stranger Things
No title available
Game of Thrones Daily
Janaina Medeiros
JVL
oozey mess
shark vs the universe
JBB: An Artblog!
No title available
🪼
$LAYYYTER
ojovivo
Show & Tell
Product Placement
Peter Solarz
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Kenya
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Argentina
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Netherlands
seen from Canada
seen from United States
@autarchi0s-a
“It takes a certain kind of person to be cast down into the bowels of Hell. It takes another kind entirely to thrive down there.“
- independent multimuse (stolas, paimon, asmodeus, the matron [OC]) from helluva boss / hazbin hotel
- 12+ years writing experience
- depicted by Warden
HOME - RULES - ASK - ABOUT
- independent multimuse (zavok, zor, zomom, zazz) from StH
- EXTREMELY canon divergent, pre-lost world/IDW
- 13+ years writing experience
- depicted by Warden
HOME - RULES - ASK - ABOUT
// saddens me to say that this was a long time coming, but this blog is now being archived! unfortunately my interest in vivzieverse stuff has largely petered out and i don't really feel like keeping up to date with most of the fandom's developments anymore. this blog has been through two iterations (including this one), and most attempts at getting my shiz together havent really worked out in my favour, which is why i'm uncertain i would be trying a third time. if anyone wishes to reach out to me still, IM me and i will fork over my discord handle. wishing everyone the best, it was a lot of fun to participate. 🖤
// saddens me to say that this was a long time coming, but this blog is now being archived! unfortunately my interest in vivzieverse stuff has largely petered out and i don't really feel like keeping up to date with most of the fandom's developments anymore. this blog has been through two iterations (including this one), and most attempts at getting my shiz together havent really worked out in my favour, which is why i'm uncertain i would be trying a third time. if anyone wishes to reach out to me still, IM me and i will fork over my discord handle. wishing everyone the best, it was a lot of fun to participate. 🖤
// saddens me to say that this was a long time coming, but this blog is now being archived! unfortunately my interest in vivzieverse stuff has largely petered out and i don't really feel like keeping up to date with most of the fandom's developments anymore. this blog has been through two iterations (including this one), and most attempts at getting my shiz together havent really worked out in my favour, which is why i'm uncertain i would be trying a third time. if anyone wishes to reach out to me still, IM me and i will fork over my discord handle. wishing everyone the best, it was a lot of fun to participate. 🖤
// saddens me to say that this was a long time coming, but this blog is now being archived! unfortunately my interest in vivzieverse stuff has largely petered out and i don't really feel like keeping up to date with most of the fandom's developments anymore. this blog has been through two iterations (including this one), and most attempts at getting my shiz together havent really worked out in my favour, which is why i'm uncertain i would be trying a third time. if anyone wishes to reach out to me still, IM me and i will fork over my discord handle. wishing everyone the best, it was a lot of fun to participate. 🖤
🐝 * ― send 💌 or ( `LOVE LETTER` ) for me to write one thing i like about your blog, one thing i like about your character or your portrayal, and one thing i like about you in general. doesn't have to be anything long, just a little something to make someone's day a little brighter. if you want, include the url of someone else if you want me to write them some compliments.
Thematic Headcanons. A series of subject-specific headcanons you can ask your favorite blog and muse.
hc + 🤝 for a headcanon about a connection with one of the receiver's mutual
hc + 👪 for a family-themed headcanon
hc + 🧡 for a friendship-themed headcanon
hc + 💌 for a romance-themed headcanon
hc + 💕 for a loved-themed headcanon
hc + 💔 for a headcanon about a sad experience
hc + 🤥 for a lie-themed headcanon
hc + 😶 for a headcanon about a secret they know of / keep
hc + 😴 for a sleep-themed headcanon
hc + 🌇 for a headcanon about morning- or evening rituals
hc + 🧼 for a hygiene-themed headcanon
hc + 🏠 for a home-themed headcanon
hc + 😃 for a happiness-themed headcanon
hc + 😨 for a fear-themed headcanon
hc + 🤕 for a pain-themed headcanon
hc + 🚶♂️ for a habit-themed headcanon
hc + 👍 for a headcanon about things they like
hc + 👎 for a headcanon about things they dislike
hc + 💪 for a sport-themed headcanon
hc + 😡 for a headcanon about something that makes them angry
hc + 👻 for a headcanon about supernatural occurrences
hc + 🥣 for a food-themed headcanon
hc + ☕ for a drink-themed headcanon
hc + 🐈 for a pet/animal-themed headcanon
hc + 🌸 for a plant-themed headcanon
hc + 🌄 for an outdoor-themed headcanon
hc + 🌍 for a travel-themed headcanon
hc + 🗡 for a weapon-themed headcanon
hc + 🎡 for a hobby-themed headcanon
hc + 🚗 for a transportation-themed headcanon
hc + ⏳ for a time-themed headcanon
hc + 🌘 for a night-themed headcanon
hc + 🌞 for a day-themed headcanon
hc + 🪐 for a universe-themed headcanon
hc + 🌂 for a weather-themed headcanon
hc + ⛄ for a season-themed headcanon
hc + 🎉 for a celebration-themed headcanon
hc + 🏆 for a goal-themed headcanon
hc + 💯 for an achievement-themed headcanon
hc + 🚬 for a headcanon about a bad habit
hc + 🎭 for an arts-/crafts-themed headcanon
hc + ✂️ for a hair-themed headcanon
hc + 👗 for a clothes-themed headcanon
hc + 💍 for a jewelry-themed headcanon
hc + 💄 for a makeup-themed headcanon
hc + 🎓 for an education-themed headcanon
hc + 📿 for a faith-themed headcanon
hc + 🎵 for a music-themed headcanon
hc + 📱 for a media-themed headcanon
hc + 🎥 for a film/tv-themed headcanon
hc + 📔 for a reading-themed headcanon
hc + 💰 for a money-themed
hc + 💼 for a job-themed headcanon
hc + 💉 for a medical-themed headcanon
hc + 🛒 for a shopping-themed headcanon
hc + 🔞 for a nsfw-headcanon
hc + ❓ for a headcanon of the receiver's choice
"Eh, maybe I'll meet her another day. Alright, I won't keep ya any longer, Tria." Astaroth wrapped an arm around his daughter in a quick hug. "You can go back to mingling."
"It was nice to meet you, Stolas." Demetria gave a wave to the prince before walking off.
"Of all my creations... of everything I've ever wrought... nothing compares to my own flesh 'n blood." The cassowary drained his wine glass, then vanished it with a flick of his wrist. "That reminds me, you said you had a daughter... d'you have a wife?"
A quick and chirpy "Likewise!" is left for Demetria as she promptly makes herself scarce, again leaving Prince and Duke to their devices. The silence in between, before Astarion saw it fit to intervene, felt louder than any other. What shame, not to have the opportunity to bring his daughter with him. And all because of...
"...my wife?" Stolas questions, in a tone that suggests he did not hear - or possibly did not wish to hear, but then straightened himself up. "Ah. Yes! My wife. She's..."
That properness lasted about as long as it could have in the throes of being reminded of Stella. His voice trails off, hesitating to provide a truthful response. He could not give two shits anymore; he does not want to. Alas. All in the name of keeping up appearances.
"She must be around. Somewhere..." The owl squints his eyes regretfully, fearing that his attempt at remaining unbothered had not been all that convincing. At this point, it was practically inevitable. Truly, he is not happy to be here.
Duke Gusion sat silently skimming his grimoire. He mentally went through all the possibilities this conversation could likely take once again. One of the advantages of a domain largely dealing with knowledge and clairvoyance was unparalleled preparation. Nothing about this debacle was going to fully catch him off guard- at least in terms of the words spoken. His foresight didn't allow him to understand the how or why of an event, only the what. The moods and thoughts of everyone involved would remain a mystery and a particularly volatile person could render any possibilities too fluid to read. To be safe, he kept the grimoire open while he had stacks and stacks of notes and a few spare pens. He glowered for a moment at the ones he knew were going to break later.
This whole situation was a mess and one he could only barely speak of in any degree of detail. He already knew how bad things could get if he did. The advanced reading was proving fruitful already. Regardless, there were too many pitfalls. He would need to be extremely delicate with this situation.
At Paimon's cue, he nodded. "Of course, Sire. Let us not waste any more time." He first turned to Prince Stolas. Both of the major participants at the table outranked him. Deference would be required, but tip-toeing around the issue was simply not going to cut it here.
He could do this as he preferred- directly to the point.
"Prince Stolas, I would like you to reiterate to me why you wish to nullify your marriage and subsequently your part in its alliance building." The Duke gave a measured relaxed gaze, perhaps even the solitary face entirely bereft of judgement. Gusion had built his entire diplomatic career on being easy to talk to even in a tense situation- he hoped things hadn't deteriorated in ways he couldn't see already and that Stolas would still be willing to speak plainly of the situation.
Every bit as aware of the urgency of this situation as the Duke was, Stolas bit down on his own lip as his convictions threatened to escape him right there and then. Gusion's impartiality is welcomed, albeit entirely insufficient. This lot is good at pressuring. Too good. Come his turn to speak, he listens closely, deliberating upon each and every word so as to not befoul this already volatile meeting by uttering something out of line.
"My terms are simple. As is the reasoning." The mere thought of playing along with the dissolution of such a powerful alliance naturally causes most every other party present to find this introduction appalling. There is nothing 'simple' about such an uncouth decision. Still, they wished to entertain the presence of a mediator - thus, begrudgingly, they shall listen.
"One of - if not the most important - purposes for my union to Princess Stella was to foster an heir. This had been made clear since day one." And how he dreads reminiscing of it. To know his fate had been sealed, inflexibly so, always left a looming sense of hopelessness every time he got out of bed. Then, and now. "Said... goal... has been achieved. In due time, she will be of age. Fit to rule. Fit to take over my position, at the discretion of you fine gentlemen. We've little more to gain from this alliance than riches we already own."
"I am nothing if not revolted by this insolence, young man." Paimon immediately interjects, mediator be damned, expressing his displeasure in no uncertain terms as a fist comes down onto the table. "The riches - they are secondary. Dare I say, an afterthought. The Houses of Hell are thinning; the few that remain have interests aplenty in remaining somewhat unified. The less worth Lucifer sees in them, the less of a reason they have to partake in the feast."
Given his loud and brazen interruption, he now reclines upon his throne again, tightly clutching his wine. "We've many favours to pay. Now of all times is when this family should keep our friends close, and our enemies closer - and choose both carefully. Not you, nor I, and certainly not anyone else sitting here and lending an ear to your folly are safe from the scrutiny of His Royal Majesty. What, pray tell, makes you think you've any right to fracture these meticulously constructed connections?!"
She doesn't KNOW why she's bothering with telling this Sinner or whatever she was her problems. Most people in Hell would just use her or hurt her. Most minded their own business, but who could say they could ACTUALLY betray the literal Mary Magdalene? Gaining power in their own right? But from what she's heard, people... change when coming here. Mary wondered... could she change too? Could she stop using people for her own gain? Using humans and wasting their time for her own thrills?
Mary is one of the few Sinners who had the ability to traverse to Earth. How she could is her own secret. She didn't want to tell the Matron in case she tried to abuse that power. Mary is secretly rumored to be on par with the power above of a Overlord. She's powerful for a reason. She murdered many people and literally gained more power in the span she's come back 'home'. Her home was Earth if she's being honest.
"I... I come to repent." That word hasn't left her mouth in a VERY long time. Not since she betrayed Jesus Christ. Not since she had willingly become the very whore to Judas and saved herself and him. Repent. Words she's said to 'HIM' before and only got judgement in the process. Mary wasn't sure why she wanted forgiveness. Maybe... for all the things she's done and hurt. Mary would angle her hips to cock it to the far left.
"I have hurt many people here that haven't deserved it. I feel... angry." She answers her own statement. Maybe somewhere more private for the two to talk would be preferable to Mary. She didn't like admitting her problems to an open space.
Repentance is a highly sought-after resource in the vast expanses of Hell's circles. Too precious, and all too rare. Few find mercy and pardon, and even fewer know what to make of them. Those same poor souls that have long been left to wander sometimes have no choice but to be entirely consumed by their wrathful, lazy, or greedy deeds. In truth... not everyone is aware of what they want. For Mary to have expressed it in no uncertain terms is a delight to the Matron.
Being one not to kiss and tell, she understands the principles of discretion as though they were another vital function to life, akin to eating, drinking and engaging in sexual activity.
"So you do." What is a demon if not a walking boil of repressed emotions, prepared to burst at the slightest provocation? Something certainly weighs her newest visitor down. Not for the common ears nor eyes to bear witness to. Noticing her discomfort all the same, she raises herself to her feet - or to the mass of black ichor that stands in their place. Without a word, without a single gesture, the fellow standing beside the head of this church immediately takes her place and resumes the cloister's activities for her.
For all that it is worth, she runs a well-oiled machine.
"Come. We shall discuss this elsewhere." she whispers, imperceptibly beckoning for Mary to tread closely along. The halls of these sanctum belie a considerable outreach - this temple must have been carved out of the underground by the flesh of fingers that may be no more, worked to the bone to facilitate a shot in the dark at the feeling of redemption. Turning left, turning right, it makes little difference until the eyes are greeted by the sight of a private chamber of sorts. This one, wrought out of wood, privacy secured by two black veils draped over the doors. Not too dissimilar to a confessional of sorts. The Matron claims one side. Mary is welcomed to the other.
She kept a polite smile on her face, more to hide her discomfort at how the two of them were speaking than to actually be polite. "I'm sorry t'tell you boys, but there's nobody here I can think of who belongs to the King." Her tail swished absently behind her as she spoke, everything she was saying being completely true in her opinion. "Only ones livin' here are me n' my family, and certainly none of us would be callin' Paimon a father. You're more than welcome to take a look around, though, if'n that'll make you feel better."
Not that they'd find anything. Nancy had cleared out Zal's room while she was packing for him, had put each photo that he was a part of into his horse's saddlebags; she was absolutely sure that there'd be no sign at all of her son's presence in the house.
"Is that so?" "Then surely we may enter." "Why remain uncertain?" "We shall compensate you." "If these words are true, that is."
The illusion of choice is a harrowingly bittersweet recompense to someone who, in truth, has never had a say in the matter to begin with. This missing link's royal descendance is unquestionable, as is the information the King's advisors have politely recquisitioned from the populace. The duo fears not the prospect of getting their hands dirty - why else, if not to remain in touch with the riff-raff long enough to make educated decisions.
"We understand any apprehensions." "But this is a serious matter." "Seriously pressing." "These gents accompanying us?" "They shall survey the outside." "As for us..." "Our word - shan't leave a mess behind."
They seem keen on entering; now, without politely expecting Nancy's permission. As for the mob of armed denizens of Wrath on horseback, they too draw closer, carefully inspecting the humble ranch's structure for any potential leads.
|| -- @thethiefsden (from x)
An atmosphere of unease readily sets in when Paimon shows face. To be expected - his scrutiny is feared, and with good reason. A patriarch so deeply entrenched in his position of power has not assured himself this great a leverage by saying 'please' and 'thank you'. As with the total recollection of the past thirty minutes, the mess of imps tumbling and falling over each other fails to impress him. Behind his mask, the corner of his beak quirks... unhappily so.
"'Had's and 'would's are empty words, boy. As it stands, this 'grand appearance' is worth a camel's arse." Now no longer as reserved, the monarch reaches to retrieve his rightful drink from the little servant's platter. He refrains from imbibing it outright and instead doubles down on his pressure, coursing a circular path along the rim of the glass with a digit, then flicking it away, as though he had gathered motes of dust.
"Anyhoo. Much as I would love to harp on about these barbaric arrangements, you and I both have much else to discuss. Namely, the honouring of your lifetime arrangement to your lovely wife. Which I trust is still being respected for its quality of an unholy union between two important houses, and has not resulted in an embarrassing annulment, the motives for which would bring about unspeakable ignominy to the family name."
Somehow conveying himself as though he had not spilled forth the bad omen of the century, Paimon's hands remain patiently foiled beneath the veil of his luscious garbs - save for one, which yet swirls that fizzling champaigne glass in its grasp.
"Humour me."
Duedephelon prepared himself for the worst as the King spent an agonizingly long time silently contemplating his fate. Seconds were spanning like eons. His life would have flashed before his eyes were he to have remembered even a moment of it. When he was lifted, he dare not show cowardice and close his eyes in preparation for the inevitable death he assuredly deserved.
When he was dropped back to the ground, he both knew he had been spared- but also that that reality could change in an instant for any reason. He dared not respond with anything but gratitude and supplication. He debated in his head whether responding or not responding would be the choice that allowed him to exist for a few moments longer.
The door to the sanctum was a huge stone door etched with inert arcane symbols. Beyond was a faint and unstable whisper- and the threat of a powerful fractured force. The conduit that were the sigils was disturbed and the power that remained in the chamber was desperate to latch onto whatever it could for its constant quest for answers as it was designed to do, now free of its bonds yet sealed tight inside the chamber. Opening it would certainly do no harm to the goetia patriarch, but the fate of its steward was clear.
Duedephelon finally dared to glance at the chamber, praying it would not open again. "N-No...." He whispered faintly, "No, please keep it closed..."
It was at that point that the worst of Paimon's compulsions threatened to take his better judgement into a vicious chokehold. The sole few remainders of the now missing containment chambers could easily fry Duedephelon to the bone, should the lesser of the Goetia be exposed to the sheer pressure of all this haphazardly contained energy escaping at once. The king's hand would not falter if the steward were to face this painful a death. To relieve his immediate discontent with blatant maltreatment...
Another of the amnesiac's lucky stars are counted in that, again, Paimon's sole hope of ever restoring this sanctum to its former glory rests in the preservation of the former's life. Having taken notice of the other's hesitation, his hands remain folded beneath his ample glimmering coat.
"I do suppose it had best remained this way." the patron mused out loud, taking one good look at the intricate patterns crafted into the masonry - and, why not, briefly admiring his very own monstrous presence imperceptibly weaved into the designs - before turning heel a second time and rewarding Phel's doubtful inaction with a disapproving gaze.
"Well? Expecting a go-ahead? Or must I spell everything out?" Simple as it gets. His eyes flash a dangerous red. "Fix this. At the very least, make yourself useful and present me with a potential solution, an alternative - anything, boy, so long as it does away with that bloody slack-jawed stare. Yes?"
"Really?" Inquired the curious feline. Black Star remained in her seat in the pew, finding herself feeling reassured and secure in The Matron's presence. Though the sinner can't pinpoint why, for the two had only just met.
The sinner gulps at first when The Matron stands at her full height. Black Star had assumed the other was tall, but not that tall! Plus, where were her legs? Unless The Matron was hiding them behind, what Black Star assumed, was a robe or long skirt made to look like bubbling liquid. Unaware that it was actually ichor.
"I.. um.." the feline mutters, trying to put a cohesive sentence together. "I.. I've been through.. though a lot, y-yes." She looks like a nervous dog with tail tucked between legs while speaking. "People.. t-tell me it's.. a lot to" Black Star stammers, raising an arm up to push back her dark hair to the side.
"But it's.. so confusing" Black Star loudly sighs, letting her body slump against the pew's back. "Like.. I know I.. deserve it, b-but.. my friends V-Vex and Matt t-tell me I didn't."
"All say that the Underworld's dwellers are deserving of this fate."
Despite being worded as wisdom supreme, that observation is as obvious as it comes. There is an unfathomably tall, spiraling freefall of bureaucracy that takes place in the backdrop of a Sinner's arrival, required to ascertain the accurate dispensing of judgement. Outwardly, the Matriarch seems to believe it is not as infalible as purported. In truth... the powers holding this realm together know a lot. Perhaps too much. For her purposes, however, she finds it best to pretend otherwise.
"And this is a bleak reality to face. However, these loved ones, they are not entirely mistaken in this reasoning."
Now that they stand on mostly even ground, if only as far as being at eye level goes, the Matron folds her hands into the sleeves of her robes and pensively lets her head hang in ponder at a dignified angle, mimicking a gesture that long ago brought her some comfort.
"There once was a time I devoted myself to a life of worship to a deity. One I thought powerful and charitable beyond all. When the scars and blemishes of my selfless service mounted, so too did I feed myself lies to match. I found nothing but the worst of mankind, a repugnant dogma of violent tendencies and blind fervor veiled as a righteous cause - worse, I was fooled by it. Thus formed a mantra I repeated every day, every night; this is only right. I deserve this."
Given a brief pause, her hands ball into fists behind the fabric. "And then I questioned if I truly did. It all changed. In time, my child, you too may come to a similar realization. The atmosphere of this wretched realm is not for those ruminations to take place, however. For as long as you wish to remain here, I shall nurture these open wounds you bear. Whether you seek validation, reassurance or the warmth of open arms... I bequeath this mercy."
"...a party?"
She couldn't have picked a better home to invade it seems, for she was being treated as well as one could given the circumstances, and by one she found herself caring for more and more as the days went on...in all honesty Stolas hardly left her mind now that she put some thought on the matter, strange...
Regardless, she would let out a few stifled groans and grunts wherever a particularly sore or painful point was touched and bandaged, through now fault of the owls touch...she was simply that beat up is all!
"You've been far more kind to me then an Ogre like myself deserves, and I appreciate that, Stolas." She remarks once he's finished, and she is settled, aching muscles given their time to finally begin the repairing process.
"I'll have to find some way to repay your kindness, but if you think of something before I do, do not hesitate to ask, I owe you one after all." A favor from the incarnation of wrath was certainly something to covet, hard to say what such a demon could truly offer that Royalty like Stolas didn't already have.
This demon, she is much too kind for what Stolas deserves in truth. With her expressions of gratitude come a weight unprecedented now resting upon his shoulders. He does not need things... but oh, how he wants. Yearns. Deeply desires that which he is much too reserved to speak for in full. And he knows for a fact he stands in the wrong for so much as thinking of entertaining these wishes of his, when he should be working to account for all that he has left in shambles.
Given that his bed is spacious enough, there is some room for the owl to claim a seat upon the mattress, just besides the freshly bandaged Olgan. He wanted to get the words out, but the words wanted not to get out at his behest. So he was left gripping the blankets in a semblance of internalized sorrow, pursing his beak as he diverts his gaze and thinks. Thinks, thinks and thinks.
"...there is something you can do, Olgan." the prince mutters, displaying some hesitance. If he opened up to someone as wrathful and instinctual as his guest here, he doubts she would take it kindly. "All I ask is that you do not judge me for being straightforward with you. This is strictly confidential. Not for anyone else's ears."
"...I should have learned my lesson by now, and yet... I cannot help but have certain feelings for you. Feelings of profound admiration. Dare I say..."
Ugh. No. He cannot. He grits his teeth and shakes his head. But he must! What use is there in being dishonest and withholding himself any longer?
"I am... enthralled by you. I know it is wrong, and it may not be reciprocated. But your grit, and your confidence, and your prowess in combat, and... and how well-versed you are in the culture of the living world's past, and literature... and Satan-knows-how-many other disciplines. It leaves me starstruck. I cannot find the words to express how far this appreciation for you goes. I..."
...a hand comes to rest upon her lap. "...I feel as though actions would do this confession better justice."
