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Author Topic: The large breasted bar wench is trying to take over the world. And is a demon.  (Read 815 times)

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Offline RavenDaasTopic starter

  • Mortal Queen
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  • Join Date: Nov 2018
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A big ol’ switcheroo on perspective. If you like this, I welcome you to look at the opposite post found here for deeper context.

https://www.reddit.com/r/dirtypenpals/comments/el4v74/fgm4a_how_hell_defeated_the_forces_of_good/)

Inspiration for this story includes the video game Tyranny developed by Obsidian Entertainment and released in 2016, with notable quotes such as 'Flesh and Metal' coming from the soundtrack of DOOM 2016, and Andrzej Spakowski's Witcher novels, which the term 'War to Castles, Peace to Villages,' comes from, taken from the Nilfgaardian officers. On an unrelated noted, Netflix should've casted Ciri as black to piss off alt-righters pretending to be fans to whine about minorities. It would've been funny.

Read on, ye' sluts.

Most people with dreams of taking over the multiverse had more inspirational origin stories than being the server at a hole-in-the-wall bar, but few people bothered paying attention to this bit of trivia when they were on their knees for her. Not to imply that many people were on their knees for her very often: though mortals accused her of being a power-hungry whore intent on enslaving all mortals as her toys, it was unrealistic to think she could house that many people comfortably in her home. When people kneeled for her, it was often to acknowledge that, indeed, this demonic waitress had defeated them and that they had surrendered to the Empress' Peace, the philosophical and socioeconomical theory put forward by Ilya the Tyrant. Treaties were signed, certain amounts of autonomy given, contracts and agreements made with guilds, former lords and ladies, titles revoked and given - it was all very respectful and organized and absolutely without any requirement that the surrendering party put their head between her legs or become a permanent member of her harem.

Unless she specifically told you to. Then you did it.

Frankly, Ilya didn't see the issue with the way she ran her regime. Sure, taking someone's wife as her own was a rude thing to do, but it didn't seem any worse than an unhappy arranged marriage. Their husbands probably didn't even fuck them right anyways. True, Ilya brought forth an army of demons that swatted away any army mobilized to fight them like flies smacked out of the air by a bear, but her occupations were gentle and fair: nobody went hungry in her empire. Most mortal kingdoms couldn't even claim that people didn't starve often, and the serfs, slaves, and peasants of the world seemed to understand that given the flock of humans, dwarves, and every other mistreated people in the world that came to her for safety.

Only the strong had to fear her, for how much they had to lose. And blondes, given how demons lacked the ability to grow blonde hair.

It had been glorious. Truly. When she crushed her first barony, there hadn't been a prouder moment in her life than when she gave a speech to her first human followers that they were truly free - free to go wherever they wished, no longer tied to a plot of land, to open businesses, be given wages for their labor, to own the land they reaped and sowed...they didn't believe a word of it, naturally. They threw stones at her, and it took a great deal of convincing to her guards not to butcher them, but she had. They expected their homes to be 'garrisoned' by her soldiers, for their women to be violated, the men killed, the children taken as slaves, and, certainly, her Red Horde wished for it, but she didn't care what they wanted. War to castles. Peace to villages. A memo given to each and every officer that came with her from Hell, so that the next speech they gave, it would be fruit and vegetables instead of stones, and then only insults, and then tolerance, and then enthusiasm. And it worked. It pleased her to watch the laborers walk the streets as free people, working land that they would harvest for themselves, all the while the former baroness parted her slit and worked her with her tongue, glaring up at her with contempt and fury to melt a wall.

As did the next baroness, then duchess, then the next, the next, a queen, then an empress, a marquees, a…



Mortals fought like fools. Demons waged war upon each other for countless eons, and, as mortals said, practice makes perfect, and demons were beyond perfect at violence. Drilled and professionally armed with high-grade equipment, artillery teams letting loose coordinated volleys that shattered lines and softened them for the inevitable wave of flesh and metal that would overtake them. When humans went to war, they did it with plated knights armed with lance and shield and barded horse, men-at-arms skilled with blades and axes and spears, supported by men dragged up from the fields. Often lead by bluebloods with no education, their camps were filthy. Dirty water would kill hundreds, if not thousands of them, before they ever met Ilya's legions. When demons went to war, they did it with pike, halberd, cannon and rifle, with some of their officers hundreds if not thousands of years old. Each army sent receded like a tide, coming at them with so much zeal only to fall back into the ocean whence they'd come.

She brought order, peace, technology, and progress.

They brought dynastic feudalism and political anarchy, things demons had left behind eternities ago. And still they rejected her. The hero they sent to stop her had been a pretty blonde, and that'd been more than enough to distract her until they could put together a spell to send her back to Hell, denying her her glory, and the world the liberator it needed.

"Yeah. Well. Fuck 'em."

She spent her days getting high in the backroom of the bar she went back to work at, unaware and untroubled by the havoc her armies must now be wrecking upon the Mortal Realms. Frankly, they'd asked for it, having been forced from soon-to-be empress of the world to...groped waitress at the bar. Again.

Staring up at the ceiling, Ilya dropped the hose of the hookah she'd been sipping on, letting the high settle on her as she allowed her nostalgia to run freely. It was all too bad. She'd have made a great queen, and a great mistress to all those submissives out there.

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This RP will focus on Ilya's return to the world, summoned by desperate humans who realized that banishing Ilya only meant that they were now left to deal with her highly militaristic, nigh unstoppable army of demons who have splintered into countless factions, most laying claim to the world, some feigning to wish to continue Ilya's dream to their own benefit, others wishing to kill and take whatever they wish. Ideally, this would carry with it an importance of administration, war, and the various duties of head of state. If military strategy, economics, and politics, being a GM, and harem-building/women-loving-women aren't your thing, this post is not for you, but I appreciate you having read this far. I full-heartedly welcome men writing women. I welcome transitionary people writing women. I don't care what's behind the screen: I ask only that you've a world in mind for this RP that can accommodate for the worldbuilding I did above, and that you're an experienced writer, preferably with a Discord for OC communication.

There will be themes of dubious consent and light BDSM. Ilya's a sadist, but is not interested in inflicting suffering or misery on people.
« Last Edit: April 14, 2020, 03:24:37 pm by RavenDaas »