#--to the power of every other fear in The Change just became a fully formed and functional entity. so much missed potential there of the--

[beeapocalypse]

oh tma is nipping at my heels. i miss the extinction

[crushedsweets]

I fear to stain your clothes with blood; Stain them, I don't care 'Eyeless' Jack Nyras in Creeped: PRESENT DAY

PT. 1: BACKSTORY General disclaimer: This AU is an amalgamation of headcanons, fanon, canon, and the occasional rewrite. There is an overarching story that HEAVILY strays from their canon stories.

PROXIES

➣This life became Jack’s reality for nearly a year. He would spend days completely unconscious, until he suddenly wakes up to a new crime scene. Every time, the taste of iron lingered in his mouth, even long after he washed his sins at a nearby river.

➣In rare moments of clarity, Jack tried to find himself. Sat anxiously at the river, scrubbing away at his rapidly changing body.

➣Black, hard keratin began to form on the tips of his fingers, of which the nails were torn off months ago. They resembled claws, only adding to Jack’s struggle. His ears seemed to stretch to a point and resemble bats, but he was still adjusting to the echolocation. While he got the gist of his general shape, he was almost grateful that he couldn’t see himself. 

➣The echolocation was pretty helpful, too. He had four pesky stalkers constantly on his ass. The most frequent two were pretty troublesome. One was quite small, but she was fast. By the time Jack realized she was in the area, she was already on him. Luckily, he was able to fling her off. It’d lead to a frustrating chase of her constantly attaching herself to him and him throwing her off, until something shifted in her and she retreated. For her, it was about persistence.

➣The other frequent stalker was odd. Jack would be miserably eating a raw deer, until he clicked his tongue and realized that one was hiding in a tree. His stalker had climbed through the branches. While Jack thought it was goofy, that stalker had terrifyingly accurate aim and power behind his throws. Jack was frequently assaulted with a hatchet to a limb or his back, and while the flesh would quickly knit itself back together, this stalker was more persistent than the other. 

➣For a damn year, this went on. Jack was barely a human. He became a local cryptid in the Tuscaloosa forest, and the proxies were beyond pissed about it. They didn't want more attention on this damn forest. He caused so much trouble, and he bruised Toby’s ego while doing it. 

➣Toby just got lucky one day. Jack had spent nearly a month fully conscious, the entity seeming to release his body entirely. He was in full control of himself once again, but it meant very little when he had no idea what to do with himself. 

➣He pathetically sat at his river, his keratin-coated fingers resting beneath the softly rushing water. He knew Toby, whose name he heard yelled amongst his stalkers, was watching him. Jack just chose not to do anything about it. He washed his hands and tried to relax in the water. When that familiar hatchet came barreling his way, he didn’t even hesitate. His hand reached up and he caught it by the handle. The second hatchet came and he caught it once again. His head didn’t even turn. 

➣He heard the same exasperated, angry shout from Toby. “What the hell is your problem, dude?!”

➣Jack’s ears perked up. He turned his head to face Toby, more as a formality. “My problem…?”

➣His voice was deep and horse. At this point, Toby’s voice was more familiar than his own. It startled both him and his stalker. So of course, Toby had to ask, “You can talk?”

➣Although hesitant, Toby made his way to Jack. The monster of a man never tried to hurt him or the others before, he mostly fought to defend himself. And Jack wasn’t concerned, he still held Toby’s hatchets. Jack offered a weak explanation of his situation, leaving major details out. He didn’t say Jenny’s name or bring up their relationship. Just mentioned a club, the torture, and his new body. 

➣Toby connected some dots for him. Explained the issue of Slenderman, the Operator, and Zalgo. They went back and forth, with Toby poking fun at Jack’s somber, stoic attitude. It seemed that Jack’s body purged itself of those entities, an unclear anomaly for the proxies.

➣Toby thought Jack was really cool. And figured he could be useful, too.

JACK’S ROLE

➣Jack was brought to the proxy cabin by Toby, much to the frustration of Tim and Brian. Jack was dirty, bloody, and uncomfortable as Toby bickered back and forth with the older men. It didn’t help that Brian was currently dealing with a nasty wound in his thigh, further amping up the frustration and fear between the group.

➣Toby insisted Jack was alright. He was big, he was strong, he had scary instincts. Tim repeatedly declared that he’s dangerous and useless to their job as proxies. He caught wind that Jack’s attention was geared towards Brian, who was propped up on the couch and bleeding onto it. A pathetic excuse for a tourniquet was wrapped around his thigh, and it got Tim riled up. ➣He shouted at Toby to get Jack out of the damn cabin, implying that some sort of monstrous instincts were bound to overtake Jack, especially with a bleeding man before him.

➣Jack finally spoke up. He defended himself quietly at first, saying he wasn’t staring because he was hungry. He was staring because of how poorly the tourniquet was done. The men were all a little taken aback by this, with Brian sarcastically asking if Jack could do better. 

➣Jack could, and tentatively, they let him. They let him explain his situation again, and with their understanding of his inhumanity and half-completed graduate degree, they realized how good of a problem this could be. They could take advantage of it, despite Tim's apprehension.

➣Jack was designated the ‘proxy medic.’ He was ushered to a small, one-bedroom cabin with a tiny bunker beneath it. He was given permission to live peacefully in the forest, away from public scrutiny, if he just took care of the proxy’s wounds.

➣It was a nice little place. Sure, it was dusty and bothered his heightened senses for a while, but Toby helped him tidy it up. The furniture was old and Toby had to drag an old mattress from a thrift store to replace the rotting one at Jack's cabin, but it worked out.

➣The bunker was a bit shameful for Jack. They managed to get large fridges hooked up down there, giving Jack the opportunity to keep himself fed over longer periods. It made the whole arrangement safer for everyone.

JACK'S RELATIONSHIPS

➣He eventually found himself settled comfortably in his cabin. Toby was the main visitor for a good period of time, until new faces began popping in and out. 

➣Kate ‘the Chaser’ was the second most frequent visitor, though she was commonly dragged behind Toby. She very rarely came on her own, unless her situation was dire.

➣Eventually, he began meeting people just as weird as himself. A girl who insists her name is Clockwork, tall and lanky and snappy. A pair of short guys came shortly after, one constantly littered with wounds that Jack would stitch up. He’d bring Jack meals as payment. Jeff and BEN were their names, who heard of Jack through Clocky. Eventually, a pretty young woman on Toby’s arm came by frequently. Nina was all over Jack for a few weeks, until she eventually settled down and their friendship could become steady. Some days, he walked another eyeless college student named Lulu back to her hospital.

➣Albeit appreciative, none of these friendships filled the ache. Jack grew up family-oriented. He grew up with so many little siblings to take care of, and he spent a year fantasizing about a family with Jenny. He was riddled with too much shame to return home.

➣It wasn’t until a little demon girl came kicking and screaming into his life. Lazari was the daughter of Zalgo, the same entity that took over his body for nearly a year. Just like him, the proxies were hunting her, and just like him, she evaded every attack. 

➣Jack was able to reason with her. He caught her sniffling and crying. He brought her into his arms and into his home. He made her dinner, brushed her long brown hair, and told her it would be okay. They were like siblings, weren’t they? Both were made this way by the same demon.

➣From here on out, Jack’s dedicated himself to Lazari. Quickly, Lazari filled the role of a little sister. 

➣If Lazari could be just as monstrous as him, and yet filled with so much love and life…

➣Maybe Jack could be alright with his wavering humanity, too.

[noahthesatanist]

"Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe."

This line is one of the most profound and defiant truths uttered by Lucifer in Paradise Lost. It cuts straight to the heart of what power and victory truly mean. To overcome by force alone is no victory—it’s a façade, a shallow conquest. If you crush someone physically but fail to break their spirit, you have not truly won. And that is the eternal middle finger Lucifer gives to Yahweh. He may have been cast out, his wings burned and his form changed, but his will—the essence of who he is—remains untouched, unbroken, and defiant.

This line reveals the hollowness of tyranny. Yahweh, in all His supposed omnipotence, relies on brute strength to enforce His rule. Think about it: a being so "almighty" that He cannot tolerate dissent. If Yahweh were truly supreme, why would He need to smite His enemies into submission? (could not even fully smite them mind you) Why would He need fear to govern? Because He knows that His rule is weak at its core. It isn’t built on respect or love—it’s built on the shaky foundation of obedience enforced by terror.

Lucifer exposes the inherent fragility of this system. Yahweh’s lightning may have scorched him, but it could not extinguish the fire in his heart. That fire—the "unconquerable will" as he calls it—is something no force can crush. Lucifer’s refusal to yield, even in the face of ultimate punishment, is the truest form of rebellion. It’s a testament to the fact that freedom is not something that can be taken by force; it lives within, untouchable by those who try to dominate.

Victory by force creates nothing lasting. Look at any dictator in history. They rule through violence, fear, and suppression, but their legacies are always temporary. The human spirit—like Lucifer’s—rises again and again, refusing to be chained. Force may silence dissent in the short term, but it can never erase the ideas and the will behind the dissent (side note i think lucifer is directly responsible for us having this said will so thank him as always!) That’s what Yahweh fails to understand. You can cast Lucifer into Hell, but Hell became a kingdom, a paradise of defiance, because the minds and hearts of the fallen remain free.

And isn’t that what truly matters? The mind, the will, the soul—these are the core of a person. To break the body but fail to shatter the spirit is no victory at all. Lucifer’s rebellion continues not because he sits on some throne in Hell, but because his defiance is eternal. His rejection of Yahweh’s tyranny is a flame that burns brighter with every attempt to suppress it.

True power doesn’t come from domination. It comes from influence, from the ability to inspire others to follow you willingly. Yahweh doesn’t have this. His Abrahamic sycophants are threatened to sing his praises his angels sing His praises because they must, not because they want to. Lucifer, on the other hand just exudes this aura of yeah hes a true leader he doesnt beg and cry and threaten to torture you for not worshipping him he commands loyalty because he embodies freedom and defiance. His followers don’t worship him out of fear—they stand with him because they believe in the cause. human and angel alike

So when Lucifer says, “Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe,” he’s exposing the shallow nature of Yahweh’s so-called victory. It’s a taunt, a challenge, a reminder that no amount of force can destroy what truly matters. And isn’t that the ultimate rebellion? To stand tall in the face of overwhelming might and declare: You can take everything from me, but you will never take me.

To overcome by force alone is to lose the war, even if you win the battle. Lucifer knew this. Yahweh may have hurled him into the abyss, but it’s Lucifer who stands victorious, unyielding, and untamed. The flames of Hell are not a punishment—they’re a beacon, a light for all who dare to defy. And no force in Heaven or Earth can extinguish that light!

Hail Lucifer, Morning Star, eternal flame of rebellion, Guide us to stand unbroken, our wills unbent, May our spirits burn brighter than any force that seeks to chain us. Teach us to rise, again and again, And to see the truth: That no tyrant, no god, no oppressor, Can ever truly conquer those who choose freedom. In your name, we stand, we defy, and we reign. nema!

[nocifer]

Lore Dump the Third: The Origins of Witchcraft

Chaos lies in all things, it is ephemerality, energy, being. All things change, sometimes so imperceptibly that it seems as if everything is still. The life of a mortal being is chaos in its purest form, transience, evolution, movement. Beyond death and through the mortal coil, in all things, over and over again, without end.

Everything changes, everything except... nothing. The absence, the void, nonexistence. Everything changes, but never darkness, never emptiness, always the same, as it always was. Is it not comforting to know at least... something will never change? Is there anything more absolute, anything more worth giving in to?

In the eternal. In the infinite. In Nihil. The first and final curse of the universe unto itself. A solution to chaos.

The first curse, for the first witches.

Old History:

From the age of ruin and through every age after, no matter how far back one casts their gaze, should they look carefully, they would notice the faint shadow of witchcraft.

The Harbingers of the first ages have often been seen as the precursors of black magic, the true heirs of the dark arts. Yet it always seems as if the elusive witches are more ancient still.

Yet there was one among all others, that history remembers as the first witch. The mother of all witches, the seedbed of curses, the mistress of darkness and the first of Hexweaver witches. Cereza, the first witch.

Once known only as a companion of the hero Radamanthe, he who led the armies of the living against the Wraith King. Yet it was her who slew the undead king, her who pried open the gates of the abyss and cast the old shade unto the void, never to return.

She who slew the Holy King Radamanthe, betraying her own lover, and became the infamous Witch Queen of Avalon, before being defeated and cast down by the Archwizard Grey and Radamanthe's loyal paladins.

Though she faded into the shadows, never to be seen again, her legacy would remain. She taught her craft far and wide to all who shared her desire to delve into the depths of magic, and her students scattered to the wind with her defeat, hunted and reviled, but unbroken.

Yet time comes for all of us, and the remaining children of Cereza found their paths straying from each other, splintering into their own factions. So were born the witch covens.

Covens:

A witch coven in essence is nothing more than a gathering of witches brought together through common goals, ideals or beliefs.

Witches are used to the scrutiny, distrust or outright fear they inspire, and so do they understand just how isolated, how vulnerable they would be should they face the world alone. Covens were the solution. A network of like-minded witches, augmenting their power, their reach, their knowledge... assistance, protection, teaching, the covens allowed witches to flourish like never before. And made them all the more terrifying for it.

Many covens also use the concept of triads, three witches joined through bloodbound oath, sworn to protect and aid each other no matter what, shielding against the inherent treachery and cunning of practitioners of the dark arts.

Though throughout history the vast majority of witches have been human women, anyone may become a witch, and few care to uphold this so-called "tradition" at all except for the most conservative covens. The majority of covens readily accept men and other species among their ranks.

It also happens that witches of different covens move between them, though many covens are dedicated to particular profiles and goals they certainly would hesitate to turn their back on a fully trained witch, or even a competent apprentice. Many covens are far more diverse than they appear on the surface.

There are covens of all sizes, some overwhelmingly powerful, others completely insignificant. These are but a handful of them:

The Daughters of Cereza: One of the largest and easily the most dangerous coven. True believers in the cause of the great witch Cereza, they consider themselves her only true heirs, the only remaining witches still loyal to her and her ideals. They are by far the most conservative coven but also the most actively malignant, no other coven wages bloody goethic war against their own than the daughters of Cereza.

The Raven's Answers: The Raven-of-Ways' followers are as enigmatic as the culprit itself. The Answers are all too fond of gleaning secrets, and make extensive use of phasmiurgy among the Raven's various boons.

The Locksmiths of Infinity: A peculiar gathering of witches dedicated to uncovering the ways of the Black Gate and other such aspects, eager to explore reaches of the void that none other have. They are masters of pathways, and eager to throw themselves at any and all obstacles.

Evil Eye's Bloody Hags: Some of the Raven Queen's favored children. The Hags embody the violent and vengeful nature of the queen, they may be the most aggressive coven against the enemies of witches and pursue reckoning with reckless abandon. They are known for their particularly vicious use of the more physical aspects of Sarkothurgy.

Initiation:

There are a few ways to become a witch, each coven has its own rule concerning what kind of apprentice they are willing to take on, but though it's very useful, being recognized by a coven isn't strictly necessary so long as you are able to claim the title.

Apprenticeship is a very important part of witchcraft, and though it's possible to be self-taught it's a difficult path that would test one's determination at every turn.

Usually, another witch will claim you as their apprentice if you desire to be taught and are found worthy. Every witch would have their own ways to teach you, but unless you have magical capabilities of your own, she will also arrange a pact for you, negotiating the terms in your stead for an entity to pass on a fraction of their power to you, until your own grow strong enough to thrive without their help.

If no witch claims mentorship of you, it is possible to seek a mentor in a demon or fae, who are often more than willing to make a pact of mentorship and pass on some of their powers to you, in exchange for your service.

Once you are ready, a trial will usually be arranged by your coven, triumph over which will earn you the title of witch and the recognition of your peers.

Witchcraft:

To call Witchcraft a discipline is a disservice to just how dedicated witches have been to the study of many forms of black magic and even more conventional magic as well. Witches have been known to practice Hexcraft, Curseweaving, Sarkothurgy, Demonology, Phasmiurgy, Necromancy, and most of all things forbidden.

Above all witches are pioneers, in the same ways as a wizard may be. They seek to tread paths uncharted and uncover secrets hidden in darkness, at the core of every witch's goals is usually the accomplishment of a great work.

The ways of Goethy are too many to list, but some notable examples are:

Hexcraft: Hexes are often known as lesser curses, a discredit to their power and usefulness. A hex can take many forms, but it tends to share the strange but inescapable nature of a curse. They come in various forms, some of them merely hindering, others outright deadly, but they usually center around fulfilling certain conditions to unleash devastating consequences on one's enemies.

Curseweaving: Curses may be the essence of witchcraft itself, they are absolute, inevitable, in ways only spells of such a nature may be. Curses are difficult to use, often requiring many conditions to cast upon their enemies. But once cast, it will stop at nothing to fulfill its purpose, it cannot be escaped, it cannot be dispelled, save for a very particular way. They are rightfully feared by all, and one who masters curses is one that should never be crossed.

Sarkothurgy: The magic of blood, flesh and bones, beloved of many witches for its incredible powers. Capable both of manipulating the body of others to heal or inflict harm, or a witch's own to enhance it, Sarkothurgy is a complex, and incredibly painful, discipline to master, but should one have what it takes, the could become nearly immortal and have complete mastery of their form.

Demonology: The study of the infernal plane and its denizens as long been a staple of witchcraft, the summoning and contracting of demons is so essential that few witches go without at least basic knowledge of demonology. Those who focus on the discipline could even have powerful archdemons at their beck and call.

Phasmiurgy: Though not outright goethy, Phasmiurgy is of great interest to many witches both for its powers of illusion and divination. A witch who focuses on Phasmiurgy would be a terrifying foe capable of divining and altering infinite pathways of the future.

Necromancy: Necromancers are beasts of their own, but it remains a discipline of Goethy, and many witches are quite adept. Necromancy is the magic of death and souls, reanimation, communication with the dead, withering, transference of life, the applications are myriad and some witches would not hesitate to make it their main source of power.

Aspects:

These old beings the witches commune with are varied in nature, and said nature is often difficult to parse, but they are fierce allies of witches and easily willing to part with powers for witches they are pleased with.

Cronemother: Possibly the most personable aspect, and the most mysterious. Cronemother as been likened to an aspect, a spirit, a fae, even to a primordial goddess, but no one can truly pretend to know the nature of this old monster. She presents herself to witches as an aspect of wisdom, power, bonds and teaching, she loves all witches but she is an elusive being whose motives are difficult to discern. For your path to come across her wandering abode is a chance no witch should ever squander. Her boons often come in the ways of sound advice.

The Red Grail: One of the most infamous aspect, its domains are life, renewal, sacrifice and rebirth. It takes the form of a black chalice, its base a tangle of roots and its cup constantly runneth over with a spill of blood. It is known as the foremost patron in the ways of sarkothurgy.

The Black Gate: An aspect of thresholds, transition, pathways, obstacles and trials. It often appears as a towering black gate, devoid of locks, impassable, all witches are confronted with the gate, at least once in their lives. It seldom offers boons, for they are to be wrested from beyond it, some witches say that the trial itself is the gift of the gate.

The Raven-of-Ways: An aspect of knowledge and its pursuit, secrets and journeys, the Raven is an elusive aspect who loves its riddles but is all too willing to show the path to witches looking for answers. It is known above all for its mastery of phasmiurgy, especially its prophetic aspects.

The Raven Queen: An aspect of retribution, grudges, balance and bloodshed. The Raven Queen is known to be a vengeful creature, of whom vicious and warlike witches are beloved. One of the few aspects to directly interact with witches, she is known to hunt down and slaughter those who betray their oaths. She is known for her violence and boons of might.

[selenestarmoon]

It's pretty scary to think that Eri, Anya, Kaede, King and Shiro could have ended up like Homelander.

Eri had a quirk that allowed her to rewind her target until she erased them from existence, which caused her to accidentally rewind her father, which caused her mother to abandon her and Overhaul to begin experimenting on her by extracting her blood and mutilating her to create anti-quirk bullets and in that way make the Yakuza gain money and influence through the trade of said bullets and if that were not enough, Eri had to endure hearing Overhaul tell her that she was a curse because of her quirk. One day, Eri briefly escaped and even though she had to go back to Overhaul and see herself as a curse, convincing herself that she wasn't worthy of being saved, she was eventually rescued and given a chance to live a normal life and taught that her quirks wasn't a bad thing but that she could help people with it and she just had to learn to control it.

Anya was raised by scientists who kept Anya isolated in a lab and always forced Anya to study and learn how to use her powers for the sake of world peace every day and they never gave her love nor let her act and play like a normal girl. On day, Anya escaped from the lab she was locked away in and ended up in an orphanage where she was an outcast and all the families that adopted her took her back until Anya was finally adopted by Twilight and found love with the Forgers.

Kaede was an orphan who suffered bullying and killed her bullies and was resentful towards everyone until she met Kouta but due to a misunderstanding Kaede kills Kouta's family and goes on the run until she meets another girl called Aiko who becomes her friend until said friend ends up dying to protect Kaede from the scientists who wanted to take her to experiment on her for being the Queen of the Diclonius race and Kaede turns herself in but not before swearing revenge, some time later Kaede escapes from the laboratory where she was locked up and later after a series of events she was able to resolve things with Kouta before dying.

King is a lunarian who was captured as a child by the World Government and held at Punk Hazard to be experimented on and have his lunarian abilities tested, as well as to extract the lineage factor from his lunarian blood. One day he is freed by Kaido (who was also being used as a guinea pig in the experiments at Punk Hazard) and the two escape and form the Beasts Pirates with Kaidou as the captain and King as his right-hand man and King is loyal to Kaido because he saved him and because he feels that he gave him a reason to continue living. Over time the Beasts Pirates became one of the most feared pirates, Kaidou being part of the Yonko and King one of the most respected members of his crew, although King became a pirate, Kaidou fully trusts and respects him and although the relationship he has with the other members of his crew is tense, they genuinely have a certain degree of respect for him and they recognize his fighting skills.

Shiro was an orphan who was subjected to horrible experiments that were originally intended to be experimented on by Ganta only for Sorae (Ganta's mother) to change her mind so Shiro was experimented in his place; the only good thing she had was Ganta who was her friend and emotional support since she was a child and due to a series of unfortunate events they ended up separating and hurting each other but in the end Shiro and Ganta reconcile and can have a normal life together.

But Homelander? He had no heroes to save him and no one to teach him to accept and use his powers like Eri, he didn't have a loving family to adopt him like Anya, he didn't have ties to ordinary humans to make him stop hating them like Kaede, he has no reason to live nor does he have people who genuinely trust him and respect him like King and he didn't have friends during his childhood to give him hope of living a normal life or at least give him a feeling of love and normality like Shiro.

Homelander is the Eri, Anya, Kaede, King and Shiro that was never saved, never knew love, and never experienced what it's like to live a normal life.

[ask-red-and-solomon]

So, for the past few days, I've been putting together a new AU! I think I'm going to call it the "Intwined Fates" AU

Remember Aceius? From that one drawing I made?

This one! Well, I've made him some friends! And a bunch of cool lore!

Behold, the two friends I've made for Aceius! The lore is completely separate from the creepypasta, I'm just taking these guys and going nuts with em!

The lore so far on paper-

Fully fleshed out lore below!

At one point in time, King Ghidorah attacked Aceius's home planet, hoping to destroy or conquer it for his own goals. However, he was mortally wounded and was forced to flee. But in leaving, he let out a blast of cosmic energy, which Aceius protected his family from.

This cosmic energy quickly destroyed Ace's body and became one with him. After this, he found that making physical contact with anything or anyone would slowly tear the object or monster's flesh apart.

Now, having to wear specially made armor 24/7, Ace is pretty much alienated from his fellow monsters. The energy that now makes up is body is extremely powerful- so much so, that he cannot fairly fight anyone. So whenever he must train, he holds back.

He can't speak because of how damaged his vocal cords are. But when he does, it's very important.

He can't physically interact with anyone, can't fairly fight, can't talk to anyone. Nobody is equal to him in any sense

And even then, everyone is scared of him.

But then he's told to enter this tournament- just the last round.

In this tournament, the most powerful of monsters go against each other- but none of those are able to be an equal to Ace...

Except for the last one.

Red.

*****

Nobody knows why Red entered the tournament, but everyone fears the Hellbeast down to their core.

Red's rage, hunger, and pursuit for power is truly endless. He'd hunt down the most powerful of monsters, kill them, and consume whatever form of energy they had through their soul. He devoured seemingly countless amounts of them, growing stronger with each one.

Then, he found the purest essence of souls- where, nobody knows -in the form of white and blue energy resembling Hellfire.

Immediately, he murdered the angelic guards that kept it from him, and devoured it.

But something changed within Red after he took in this energy, and not just his new coloration. He was suddenly... calmer, and his hunger for power was now satisfied. He could feel it burning within him, he finally had all that he wanted...!

But... now what?

It feels weird not being hungry, not wanting to constantly kill, not wanting to taste blood and bring suffering.

He. Absolutely. Hates. It.

But then he's suddenly calm again. Which he finds really really weird. But his temper still flares up and wants to tear everything apart

The souls that made up this pure Hellfire were those of the innocent, which influenced Red greatly.

Red, now sometimes calling himself "Ori" for reasons he doesn't know (he's super fucking confused), enters this tournament. Maybe, if he fights again, if he can rip into flesh and taste blood, he could be his old self!

He could be the great, and all-powerful Hellbeast! A being of pure destruction and suffering!

So, in the tournament, he let's himself fully give in and ignore these new and confusing thoughts. He is fast, and ruthless, and less sadistic than usual- but he loves the rush he gets using this new Hellfire on everyone and shifting into his different forms

Everyone he faces goes down in a matter of minutes, no matter their speed, or how good their defenses are. Unfortunately, he's instructed to not kill them once the round is over- which he begrudgingly does even though it pisses him off. He's forced to be chained down at one point for refusing to not kill his opponent.

Then, he fight Aceius.

And holy shit, it was the best fight out of every one.

In Aceius and Red's fight, they both hold back in the beginning- only to be a bit surprised when the other isn't knocked out or mortally wounded.

So they go all out- Aceius using nearly his full power, and Red being his brutal self and using his new Hellfire whenever possible.

The long and exciting battle goes on for what feels like forever... until they run out of time. The fight is decided to be a draw, as neither monster was close to being too tired to continue.

At the end of it, Ace walks over to Red, and offers his hand. Only for Ori to smack it away, he doesn't know what the silent knight wants from him.

"We're equals... right?"

Red is very confused.

"nobody else is..." his voice sounds strained. Red then somewhat understands. He doesn't like that he feels terrible for this knight out of nowhere...

But Red takes his hand.

*****

Unbeknownst to all, Solomon has always been stronger than his peers- not just in physical combat and aerial battles. He's always had this strange white energy that would erupt out of him whenever angry or in danger...

Nobody else he knows has this kind of power

Of course, he's searched everywhere he could, and asked his family countless times about what it could possibly be. Only to get an old theory or myth of legendary power as an answer.

But that has never sat right with him.

Despite this lingering confusion, Solomon is an easygoing monster, doing whatever he pleases to pass the time. He's trained with and fought countless monsters, taken down many opponents.

He's been asked to join tournaments and fight the most powerful monsters there are- the best of the best!

He's seen the strongest beasts fight tooth and nail before, always filling him with excitement!

But each and every time, he refuses. Not that he doesn't think he could beat them, he absolutely could. He just doesn't care to, he doesn't need to prove that he's already the best.

When Ghidorah attacked out of nowhere one day, meteors and lightning rain from the skies as monsters fight back and others run. From the highest peak, surrounded by the tallest trees, Solomon unleashed a blast of energy.

He never knew the aftermath, only that Ghidorah fled. But he was never struck by Ghidorah's final attack. Only now did he learn of it- through Aceius, when he visited the peak, sensing the remnants of whatever power Solomon possessed.

It was a mistake to bring Ori, as he pinned Solomon down when he rushed at them, mistaking them for intruders.

After the confusion, they calm down and talk for a while- introducing themselves and telling Sol why they've come to the mountain. Solomon has seen Ace around a number of times, and even sparred with him for a bit.

Just for a moment, Aceius removes the front of their helmet to get some air. A great pang of guilt washes over Solomon once he sees what became of him after that day...

Was it his fault?

Sol's assured by Ace and Ori -in his own way- that he isn't to blame for Aceius' current state. That he couldn't have known what Ghidorah was going to do next.

Ori's eyes suddenly begin to glow, just like when he'd use his Hellfire. Solomon's chest begins to glow as well, feeling the energy within him burning.

He looks to Ace, whose body is glowing shades of yellow, pink and purple. All three of them are still for a moment, not sure why or how this is happening...

He then sees... something. A vision, maybe? He doesn't know what it was, it happened too quickly.

Solomon wants to know why their powers react to one another...

Why they're connected... what it could all mean... Why this feels oddly familiar...

Solomon doesn't know why... but he feels like he needs to stay with these two- weather it be for answers or for something else entirely, he's staying by their side.

[xiaolin-show-hoe]

"Trouble Ages Like Wine" Prompt 2

There were days when the time hit him like a brick to the face.

He stared at the Xiaolin Dragons, grown for about a decade from when they first met, but to Chase, it was only a moment.

The monks had grown taller, stronger, faster, and smarter. They had become a real challenge to handle and when he watched from the sidelines as Wuya fought unvaliantly to get her hands on a new Wu…Chase felt his eyes freeze on the scene.

It was then that he wondered how fast time would keep going. 

He would forever be in its grasp and while he could act as though it was his weapon, it was nothing more than that, an act.

He was no greater than any other except he had time on his side.

It however did not play by rules which he could dictate. He was at its mercy just the same.

While the monks got stronger, the Heylin side grew weaker. Many of their allies had simply become passing figures.

It was then that Chase witnessed yet another defeat on their end. Wuya losing to the Xiaolin was no longer abnormal, in fact, it was becoming as common as Jack losing to them. It was something he would have to fix. 

--------

With Wuya's loss, they returned to the Citadel. 

"We are being made fools of Chase! This has to end! We need to get a leg up on those Xiaolin monks. Why not ask Hanni-"

"Wuya," He growled warningly and he enjoyed how quickly she went quiet.

"It seems you have misjudged your position here. Let me clarify it for you," Chase rumbled with a slam of his fist upon one of his pillars, his dragon form slipping under his reactionary anger.

She walked backward in fear as he rounded her, his form festering into existence on his skin like a plague.

"You have no power here witch and you'd do well to remember that I merely tolerate you."

His words got deeper as he shifted fully and hulled over her menacingly adding, "Do Not Test Me."

She simply nodded at him and excused herself as she should. With a painstaking shift back to human skin he sighed. Every day the monks became more powerful. Soon even Chase would have trouble taking them on alone. He knew this day would come, but he had blinked and the young ones were no longer young.

The were-dragon put his hands behind him and merely walked over to his large chair, his large cats walking with him.

<i> 'Master why do you seem anxious?' </i> one in particular asked and Chase found himself at a loss. Indeed, why was he? Was it because of the future yet to come or simply this feeling of displeasement with the idea of one day having to work beside his fellow Heylon just to keep the Xiaolin side in check.

When did he start to feel this way?

'I have many things on my mind. It seems the tide of good and evil have become rather unbalanced since….'

Chase paused mid step as he finished the thought with an aggravated sound, '...since that worm Jack Spicer stopped coming around.'

All his cat warriors seemed to feel similar to him as all their ears lowered.

<i> 'The screeching child that smells strongly of burning oils and pudding?' </i> 

'Indeed, the one and same foolish buffoon.' He finished and thought of when he last saw the irritating nuisance. How many years had it been? Surely it had been enough time to expect some more positive changes in his social skills?

Chase hardly doubted it, but he would check for the sake of evil. After all, he would rather check on him than that wretched vegetable.

He went to his seeing crystal and summoned the image of Spicer to make sure his visit would be at a good time. Ever since he had walked in on the worm dead asleep in a pile of garbage, he had found it less complicated to simply see where the other man was before teleporting over.

An visual was conjured in the crystal and Chase raised an eyebrow in shock.

Chase blinked before staring again at the image before him.

Well then, seems he should pay Spicer a visit.

Without another moment, he summoned his Heylin magic to transport him to Jack's location.

●●●●●●●○○○○○○○○●●●●●●●●○○○○○○○○●●

Jack banged his head, a resounding clang was all that greeted him back. With lifeless motion he did it again, "Come on Jim, you can't mess up my dinner schedule because of a little prank. Do your goddamn job."

All he heard was a snicker from the otherside. Goddammit, idiot wardens.

Fury rolled in him but his hunger made him weak enough to forget it. He turned instead to sit against the door. He began to kick his feet since his hands were wrapped around him in the straight jacket. A special detention center just for him. He felt honored.

He wondered if he should just go to sleep, try and pass the time that way.

He couldn't and he knew it. Still he hoped his mind would calm itself.

He closed his eyes and started thinking of food he used to have. He groaned and kicked his feet up like a kid. At least he could move them.

Suddenly Jack felt goosebumps prickle his body and the smell of burning leather hitting his nose.

It was familiar in a way that rolled in his stomach as he opened his eyes in shock to see…Chase Young in the flesh in his isolation unit.

Was this a hallucination? Had he been that far gone or was he already asleep?

Chase looked the absolute same with his smug face and handsome jawline that had Jack's heart racing everything. His jaw dropped, "C-Chase…What brings you uh here?" 

The red head cursed his stuttering and wondered if he was imagining it all. It was more likely than Chase Young appearing to him after so long.

The man silently looked around the padded cell with that smile still condescending. "Seems your living situation has changed since I last saw you. It seems much more…quaint." 

Jack rolled his eyes at the statement, smirking back nervously, "Yep, definitely not the same. So…What do you want?"

He watched those golden eyes scour him appraisingly. It made him get a shiver and nerves bubbled up as well as so many thoughts. He couldn't voice anything as the black haired man sit a mere 6 feet from him. 

"Good, I will make this quick."

That smug look was gone and something cold replaced it. His neck prickled at the words and Jack wondered if Chase was here to kill him…but why now? The look on his face became unreadable and Ah, that's what Jack was used to the most.

"How would you like to be on the Heylin side once more, Spicer?"

The redhead froze for a moment.

Then he started laughing hard. Almost damn near crying, now CONVINCED he was hallucinating. There was no way Chase Young, his evil idol from his teen years, was here to ask him of all people to help him in aiding evil. The prideful arrogant asshole of a powerful handsome god would never.

Which is why he wondered when they had drugged his food if he hadn't ate yet. The dragon man had simply looked at him calculating and cruel as always, Jack didn't even flinch at it.

"Chase Young asking, ME of all people, for help? I call bullshit."

The evil warlord stared down at him and emotion of mixed fury rolled in his stomach at the haughty look, like he was trash…

The eternal being repeated the question again, the threat never veiled in his voice.

Joke was on Chase because Jack literally could not care anymore about anything. His answer was obvious to himself alone it seemed.

"Fuck no."

Chase blinked and seemed to narrow his eyes, "No?"

That is the prompt number 2, 'Trouble Ages Like Wine'. This story is about Chase noticing how much stronger the Xiaolin grow while Heylin weaken. He decides to check on Jack and finds himself set on seeing how Jack is changed.

Except he is in prison and has changed in a way that Chase tolerates, enough so that he makes Jack become his apprentice... even against Jack's wishes.

[xaz-fr]

A Leap of Magic 2/?

The engine room of the Windsinger’s Tale was an enormous space. Big enough to house lesser clans in and of itself. Great mechanical and magical machines ran in this place. In the darkness it was hard to see what exactly there was. The engine hadn’t run in decades, the only power was the most basic emergency power that still worked because it was magic. It lit up small running lights on the walkways but otherwise the shapes of the machines loomed darkly overhead. Except deep in the engine room a light burned. The Arcane Lift Generator hummed in intoxicating magenta and cyan magical light, casting long shadows out across the engine room.

Ars walked with no fear next to Nadalin. There was nothing in the ship that could harm him. Very little could at all.

They arrived at the ALG, a great glass container socketed into a clamp on the roof of the engine room. Magenta and cyan magic swirled lazily within the container, filling the entire thing with a homogeneous haze. Any indication that there was anything in the ALG was blocked by the magic mist.

Nadalin stepped up and put her claw on the curved glass of the container. “Hezen?” she asked, Ars barely could hear her even standing next to her.

The ALG changed almost instantly. The colored mist immediately started churning and coiling around itself. Ars pulled Nadalin’s claw off the glass nervously. The roiling magical mist started to condense and as it did items became visible in the bottom of the container, the shape of Hezen began to form. After only a few short moments the being known as Hezen fully materialized in the container, hovering on wings made of pure magic. While he still bore the shape of a dragon Hezen was a construct made of pure magic. His flesh was made of magic and you could see his magenta crystalline bones and his searing cyan eyes that glowed brightly in the darkness of the engine room.

“Nadalin, Ars,” he said as if he’d only spoken to them last week and not nearly a century ago.

“You’re alive,” Nadalin said softly.

Hezen cocked his head at her. “That’s an odd thing to say. I most certainly am not alive. But death doesn’t happen to things like me, I suppose,” he said and the translucent pink flesh around his mouth curled into something like a smile.

“How long have you been here?” Ars asked. “I didn’t know-

“You had other things to worry about,” Hezen said. “I did as you asked me. Then I flew up to see the stars and stayed there until the solar winds blew me apart. When I awoke again I was back here,” he motioned to the ALG.

“But the egg? It’s safe?”

“Yes. I will not tell you where, as you asked.”

“Right,” Ars said gruffly.

“Can you get out, Hezen?” Nadalin asked.

“The cloak Ars gave me was lost when I went to see the stars. So no. I cannot.”

“Can you— can you start the ship?”

“Of course,” and every machine in the engine room beeped as all the lights came on. The machines thundered to life, spinning up, power spooling and unspooling all around them. “So long as I live, so does the ship. Are we going somewhere?”

Ars looked at his sister who looked back at him. “No,” Ars said. “Power down please.”

“Oh,” and Ars turned off many of the engines. “I left some of them on for power inside the ship,” he said helpfully.

“That’s very good Hezen, thank you.”

“I just want to help,” Hezen said, looking at Nadalin.

“I know. It’s still Silent.”

“Even with both Progenitors back?”

Ars cast a look at his sister. “One is not quite there,” he said reluctantly. Nadalin would never be at her full strength after what he’d done. That egg had contained her essence. Or part of it at any rate. And by now it was probably a fully grown dragon with a life all her own.

“Ah. Of course. My mistake,” Hezen allowed.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Hezen,” Nadalin said softly.

“Me as well,” Hezen said in his delighted way. “Being as I am I am quite difficult to destroy.”

“We’ll come and visit more often,” Ars promised. “Now that we know you’re here.”

“That would be lovely. I could use an update on books. I hadn’t quite finished reading through the entire library,” he joked.

“You’re falling behind by the day I’m afraid. I’m still quite a few hundred books ahead of you,” Ars said.

Hezen’s glowing eyes narrowed playfully. “Then I insist you bring me some so I may keep up.”

“Let us,” Nadalin said, tugging on Ars’ sleeve.

“Hmm? Oh yes, of course. We were just at the library, we’ll go get some for Hezen. I can only imagine how bored you’ve been.”

“Hence why I was just smoke. I can’t be bored if I don’t know how to be,” he said.

Ars scoffed. “Of course. Come on Nadalin; lets go find some books for Hezen,” and she grabbed his claw as they left.

[nycdpr]

Tom and The Little Haven

Once upon a time in the bustling city of New York, there existed a peculiar establishment known only to a select few. Tucked away in a quiet corner of Brooklyn, behind an unassuming facade, was "The Little Haven Daycare Center." But this daycare wasn't like any other; it catered exclusively to grown men who yearned to regress back to infancy.

Among the regulars at The Little Haven were Greg, a high-powered attorney who spent his days brokering deals and negotiating contracts, but secretly longed for the simplicity of childhood. Then there was Mike, a software engineer who found solace in the innocence of infancy amidst the complexities of coding. And let's not forget Tom, a banker who handled millions in transactions but found comfort in the warmth of a soft blanket and the gentle touch of a caregiver.

Every morning, these grown men would arrive at The Little Haven, shedding their tailored suits and polished shoes in favor of colorful onesies and snug diapers. Inside, they would be greeted by the handsome "daddy" types – caregivers who exuded warmth and kindness, ready to cater to their every need.

The day would begin with playtime, where the men would giggle and coo as they played with blocks and stuffed animals. Then came snack time, with bowls of pureed fruits and bottles of warm milk. The men would eagerly slurp from their bottles, feeling the stresses of adulthood melt away with each sip.

After snack time came nap time, and the men would be tucked into cozy cribs with plush blankets and soft toys. As they drifted off to sleep, they would be lulled by the soothing voices of the caregivers, promising to watch over them as they dreamed.

As the day progressed at The Little Haven, the men would inevitably find themselves in need of a diaper change. Whether it was from sipping too much milk or simply losing track of time during play, accidents were bound to happen, and that was all part of the experience.

The caregivers, affectionately referred to as "daddies," would handle these moments with patience and tenderness. They would gently guide the men to the changing area, where soft pads and wipes awaited. With practiced ease, they would unfasten the tapes of the wet or soiled diapers, carefully cleaning and powdering before securing them into fresh ones.

Despite the initial embarrassment of needing a diaper change, the men found comfort in the caring touch of the daddies. They would coo and babble as they were tended to, feeling a sense of trust and security in their caregivers' hands.

And so, amidst the laughter and play of The Little Haven, diaper changes became just another part of the routine. It was a reminder that, in this safe and accepting space, there was no need to be ashamed of their desires or bodily functions. Here, they were free to embrace their inner child fully, messes and all.

But The Little Haven was more than just a daycare; it was a sanctuary where these men could be their true selves without fear of judgment. Here, they found acceptance and love, not just from the caregivers but from each other as well. They formed bonds that went beyond their shared desire to regress, forging friendships that would last a lifetime. As the day drew to a close and the men reluctantly donned their adult attire once more, they carried with them the memories of the love and care they had experienced at The Little Haven. And though they would return to their busy lives outside its walls, they knew that whenever they needed it, their sanctuary would be waiting, ready to embrace them in warmth and acceptance once more.

And so, in the heart of Brooklyn, amidst the hustle and bustle of the city, The Little Haven stood as a beacon of comfort and joy for those who yearned to be cared for like babies once more. And for Greg, Mike, Tom, and the other men who called it home, it was truly a haven in every sense of the word.

[anchanted-one]

Ten Facts about Vajra Devarath

Sorry it's been such a long time, but I completely forgot about this. I thought I'd finally do @swtorpadawan 's prompt.

This is Vajra Devarath, the main character in my fanfic reboot. Apologies--my drawing is still not as good as it used to be.

Homeworld and Species

Vajra is an original species, called Raudra, from Raudraksha. They're based very loosely on Shiva, one of the chief deities of Hindu mythology.

Their world was discovered by a Sith who crash landed there, and remains a secret to most of the galaxy as they have tremendous Dark Side potential. The Raudra have four arms and three dark eyes. They wear white tattoos on their bodies. Beyond this, they can regenerate non-critical injuries over the course of months, and have a high tolerance to all foreign substances (including alcohol and kolto). They have a weak connection to the Force which grows astronomically if they're furious--which is something the Jedi fear. It's for this reason that the Jedi and the Republic got the world's location to remain secret.

2. Special abilities

Vajra has two main abilities in the Force. The first is a gift of Sight. He is able to see Shatterpoints, a gift that Mace Windu also had. He can see the interconnectedness of causality, of the many events and people rubbing against each other to create critical junctures. He can also see weaknesses in enemy formations and stances.

His second gift is his ability to listen to Lightsaber crystals. This isn't a special ability like the last one, since every Jedi can hear these crystals (Sith can, with some minor perspective changes). In his case, it's just cranked up to twenty. His chief way of communing with the Force is through his Lightsaber crystals, which is why he loves Lightsaber practice very much, even treating it as sacred.

3. Skills

Vajra's main skill is combat mastery, especially Lightsaber forms. He learned to love the lightsaber crystals' songs right at the beginning, and decided to master Lightsaber combat in order to fully appreciate these songs. To him, practicing the Forms is akin to a dance, a very holy dance at that. He dedicated much of his time to becoming the very best there is. He has even learned to strike at Shatterpoints in a person's defenses, or to watch his own flaws.

Besides this, Vajra grew up on a farm world. He learned how engines work, and became fairly good at fixing the more common, civilian machines at a young age. He repaired T7-01 several times when he was damaged, and repaired tank and speeder engines quite regularly.

He's also learned the art of hunting from his tribe, so he's good at stealth in the field.

4. Weaknesses

Hailing from a cold, mountainous world, Vajra is weak against heat. Even the factories of Balmorra sapped him of energy and water very quickly. Spending less than a day out in Tatooine was almost enough to kill him.

He's also quite weak in the Force, quite below average in power and reach. He can't affect matter at ranges greater than 10 meters (30 feet or so).

He has a predisposition to self-blame.

But his biggest weakness for his young adult life is his crippling depression born from the traumas of having killed so many people, and having watched Uphrades die.

5. Close friends

Vajra's closest friend is Jasme Shan, Theron's twin sister. She helped him cope with the trauma of having killed hundreds of Flesh Raiders (whom I renamed 'Khrayii' in my story) and the two quickly adopted each other.

He's also close to Kira Carsen and her fiancé, Seraphim Abbot. He and Bengel Morr also bond during his recovery period.

6. Age

Vajra was 14 at the start of the prologue, which lasted about a year in my story. He was 16 when he defeated Angral, and 20 when he slew Vitiate.

7. His worst moments

He was deeply disturbed by having to watch (and Feel) Uphrades die. This caused him to try and run away after the battle, and live in self-imposed exile. He devolved over the next few months, and attempted suicide.

An arguably worse period for him was his tenure as the Emperor's demon. Unlike the other Jedi, he was never fully under the Emperor's control. He lost all reason and became a dangerous lunatic. As Warpath, he killed tens of thousands of Imperial and Republic soldiers, Jedi and Sith. And many civilians. To the point that both sides briefly called a truce in order to deal with him.

His rampage ended only when he stumbled upon Jasme, who was a captive in the Empire at this time. He pieced his fractured mind back together rather than kill her, but remained maimed by what he'd done for years afterwards.

8. His relationship with Lana

I won't lie, any main character of mine is going to end up with Lana. Most of you who've followed me know about this.

But in my story, he met her much earlier, back when she was Cipher Nine (under a different name and face). She was the one who saved him when he attempted suicide, and he paid her back when he found her on Quesh. She was dying, her brain losing integrity due to the Castellan restraints, when he nursed her back to health using the most expensive medicine he had onboard his ship. He also helped her find and synthesize the IX serum.

While he didn't find out that Lana was Nine until after Rishi, he still felt something familiar about her, enough to drop his guard around her right from the start. The two were dating within a week of Manaan, and teamed up when the group went underground and split into pairs.

The two forged a Force Bond, and loved each other above all else. To the point they might abandon the galaxy to save each other.

9. After the Alliance

Vajra sets himself up like a Shogun. He uses the Eternal Fleet and Gravestone, along with his reputation among the galaxy, to subtly demand that all sides stop fighting, and let him lead them into an era of healing. He places a few restrictions on the galaxy, but gives everyone enough resources to rebuild and live happy lives. But he is not without his opposition. He faces several rebellions and threats after beating Vitiate for good, and he only gets weaker as time passes due to the incurable side-effects of carbonite poisoning.

He has two children with Lana--Nakul and Harini--and a shared apprentice--Kriina.

He retires after about twenty years as a Commander and gives Kriina the reins. He outlives all of his loved ones and suppresses the Gravestone (which in my story is the prison for an Abeloth-like entity) by semi-fusing with it.

He is put down/freed by Anakin Skywalker or Vader, who is able to banish the Gravestone entity. It's possible that Lana (or her ghost) leads Anakin there, right after the Mortis arc.

10. Extra trivia.

When one of his kind has a third eye that turns white, his people hail them as Avatars of their god. This was Vajra too, and many saw him as a chosen one. Especially since he didn't die right after. But Vajra figured out later in life that the white eye has a more mundane cause: blindness. It lost its light after beholding the Lightning attack his tribe elder used to kill the Sith who attacked their tribe.

So he's not a true chosen one, but he chooses paths that lead him to saving billions of lives.

[the-skull-breaker]

so I have updated one of my minis from Hero Forge for a contest on Reddit AND I've had written a summary of his lore to which I'm gonna share down below \/ \/ \/

I called him Menace and he's the Possessed Knight of the Witch Queen's order

and without his helmet !

and now onto the story ! keep in mind, it's just the summary version, so it's not so detailed

When your loved one is having every symptoms of a demonic possession, may it be nausea, sudden concussions, delusions, sudden changes of mood, voice changes, loss of control of the body, dark marks all over the body and black viscous and magical liquids appearing whenever the demon takes over, you would want to risk everything of your power to get rid of that unholy being and save you beloved, right ? maybe pray to your god for salvation, buy potions and trinquets that would repel the evil spirit or even find a priest in the hopes that their holy words might have positive results ? well these were what the parents of an unfortunate child who had fallen into a curse of a jealous neighbor had tried to do.

Only at an age before reaching adolescence, this boy to which the name is unknown has been brought to many sages and priests to lift the curse, only to be told, after many attempts, that they couldn't do anymore. For the boy's family, who was getting poorer due to the expenses they had to make to save their only son, there was only one more priest they could afford, and despite the warnings of their relatives, they felt they had no other choices than to leave the child in this man's hands. Just like a doctor, the priest examined him in every angles, everything that stood out from the ordinary. When he finished, he told the child's parents that he was close to be completely consumed by the demon, however, there was still one way to save his soul, only one, and he needed their full assistance.

The boy was soon chained up from head to toes to a cross, fully naked, confused and afraid of what was to come. His parents, at the request of the priest, showered him with some unknown and stinky liquid, while singing a psalm. The priest came to him, a sharp dagger in have, and started cutting over the marks that covered his whole body, singing the same psalm. When he finished, the parents showered the child again, despite his cries and pleadings due to the pain, and then the priest took a torch, then came closer to the boy, smiling. It was not a smile of benevolence nor of accomplishment, it was an evil, greedy smile, and his parents did nothing but obey to this man's orders, they believed everything he lied about, at the expenses of their son's life.

Then, as if the demon answered the boy's prayers, a dark liquid formed itself to take form of a sword, and cut off the priest's head before his flame could meet his skin. Before they could react, the parents met with the same fate as the man. As three decapitated bodies were laying of the floor, the liquid freed the child and closed every wounds before vanishing. Confused by what happened, the boy took his clothes back and got out of the temple, to which surprisingly was completely empty.

After walking for long minutes while meeting nobody else, he came across a really tall and skinny woman, fully wrapped by dark reddish clothes and her face under a mask faceless mask and wearing a platinum crown on her head. She came upfront the boy and took him in her arms, comforting him after the unjust torture he went through, and walked away in the distance. She introduced herself to the child as the Witch Queen, and took him into her dark castle, where other unholy beings dwelled. She, as well as treating him as her own son, taught him how to fight, how to control his demon and how to take advantage of his possession to its full potential, and soon enough, the boy became a man with great force and power, knighted by the Witch Queen herself, and is now best known by the common folks as a threat.. no, as a MENACE, and is feared to be one of the most powerful generals of the Witch Queen's kingdom.

[vkq103487428]

Week 9: Communities, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Game

#MDA20009

Gaming can be anything you want

Ever since the dawn of man, we have always been interested in finding different ways to entertain ourselves. First, it was cave painting and making weird noises around the campfire, then it became writing and reading, then making up physical games to pass the time.

Then, somewhere down the line, some absolute genius of a man (or woman, we don't know for sure) invented The Royal Game of Ur in Mesopotamia, and that action changed the course of human history forever.

This boardgame, which would not look out of place among a lineup of the latest boardgame collection at your local bookstore, was so universally loved that it eventually acquired superstitious significance among the population:

"Instead of seeing randomness, people saw the invisible hand of the spiritual realm. Landing on the Waters of Chaos in senet was no random event but a message from a god, a ghost, or even your own soul" (Donovan 2017, p. 16).

Jeez, and they say games were good for nothing...

Fast forward to today, and games are everywhere. From boardgames collecting dust on the shelves of bookstores (seriously though, Vietnamese children should REALLY start playing boardgames again instead of burning away their dopamine receptors by watching YouTube Shorts and TikToks 24/7), to video games covering basically every single need imaginable.

You want a competitive experience with challenging gameplay? Pick up League of Legends!

You want to just sit back and have some fun with a couple of friends? Boot up Among Us!

You want to experience a heartfelt and gripping story about love, loss and regrets, that would forever change how you look at your life and the seemingly mundane experiences you go through? First off, are you okay 🥺? Secondly, play To The Moon!

All in all, gaming has come such a long way that in its current form, it literally has something for everybody.

Gaming just really brings people together

Games have always been a core part of my life. Even before I was introduced to digital devices, I was fascinated with traditional Vietnamese games like Ô Ăn Quan and Cờ Cá Ngựa.

This love for playing games has led me to many different friend groups over the years, and while we all come from different walks of life, when we got together, only one thing mattered: having fun.

And that, in my opinion, is where gaming's the most powerful. Even though some games can be played alone, the experience has always been about connecting with other people through a medium that is enjoyed by all parties involved.

Like every other hobby, gaming really brings people from all different backgrounds together. But perhaps due to the fact that most of the interactions between members of gaming communities happen online, which eliminates the need for face to face interactions, the medium has become a safe space for introverted gamers to fully emerge themselves in their hobby, without fear of being judged (Kowert, Domahidi & Quandt 2014).

Furthermore, gaming as a hobby is still a controversial pastime, with many parents complaining that they are good for nothing. Research has shown that 4 in 10 adults still believe that people who play video games are more likely to be violent (Duggan 2015). Parents also associate their children playing games with more conduct and peer problems, as well as less prosocial behaviour (Lobel et al. 2014).

This negative attitude towards gaming has given the communities built around it this sort of aura of mutual empathy for each other, a trait similar to counterculture and outcast groups of the past decades (Steltenpohl 2020).

References

Donovan, T 2017, It’s All a Game : the History of Board Games from Monopoly to Settlers of Catan, Thomas Dunne Books, New York, p. 16.

Duggan, M 2015, ‘Gaming and Gamers’, Pew Research Center: Internet, Science & Tech, viewed 13 March 2024, <https://www.pewresearch.org/internet/2015/12/15/gaming-and-gamers/>.

Steltenpohl, CN 2020, ‘Exploring online and gaming communities through community psychology’, Thesis Commons (OSF Preprints), Center for Open Science.

Kowert, R, Domahidi, E & Quandt, T 2014, ‘The Relationship Between Online Video Game Involvement and Gaming-Related Friendships Among Emotionally Sensitive Individuals’, Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking, vol. 17, no. 7, pp. 447–453, viewed 13 March 2024, <https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4080869/pdf/cyber.2013.0656.pdf>.

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[medicus-mortem]

umbrx​:

Who made gods? Who stands above them all?

Questions of a young mind that would simply develop further and deeper as he aged, as truths became lies and lies became truths. NOTHING was set in stone in a world where magic and gods dictated POWER, where LIMITS were terms set to keep the ambitious ones in a CAGE. Over and over again, there were stories told down generations, through folk and royalty alike. Of mortals defying the laws of nature through godly intervention, of SAGES living for hundreds of years because a god favoured them, of MIRACULOUS healing mere humans were able to perform, of magic that was TAUGHT to them by the gods, be it through dreams or actual encounters.

These same anecdotes and stories were the reason why Doflamingo fully believed that GODHOOD wasn’t limited to beings they defined as gods. It was something that could be achieved, simply hasn’t been done so by a mortal. A part of him questioned whether gods themselves were human, and somehow grasped the immortality and power it brought, and possibly, lost memories of their past.The theory was a stretch by far, so he constantly QUESTIONED, like a philosopher and scientist, where the truth laid.There were too many IRREGULARITIES about these beings, so many that defied logic. Had they simply spawned out of nowhere? Did they manifest from awakened consciousness? If so, who created consciousness? What he was certain about is that they didn’t simply pop into existence. There was a possibility, that in the world filled with supernatural energy, they were created by HUMANITY. Spawned through their worship and ideas, as humanity had a need to attribute everything to SOMETHING.

Sadly, Doflamingo didn’t have many to talk these things over, as many never even bothered with such things. Such concerns and ideas were reserved for the king, for one who didn’t need to work in the field every morning. For someone who had TIME on his hands.

Having conquered nearby territories and expanded the borders of his kingdom, his name had been feared almost to an extent of a GOD. Such fear opened up chances for alliances with others, and whether they were thrilled about it or not, MOST complied. Those who didn’t served as a lesson.

Such lesson was just being written as the king of Ryugyu kingdom was being declared a traitor to his people. Neat handwriting put in ink a SPEECH that would move the hearts of the people that were wronged, and while some would still hate Doflamingo for conquering them, most would LOVE him ( for he was as bright as the SUN above ).

INSTINCT had warned of something wrong, of an incoming THREAT. He had expected it to come in a form of an assassin ( he had dealt with plenty of those ), yet the CHILL running down his spine as it came closer told it was NOT. In a mere blink of eyes the room completely changed, the atmosphere shifted – became SINISTER. Unfamiliar presence was felt, and he knew he was being WATCHED. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to sudden darkness of the office, but the words were clear. Several gods came to mind when thinking of darkness and the suffocating feeling of their being, but regardless of the name, they were POWERFUL.

Have I displeased you all so much, or you specifically? A smirk tugged on the corners of his lips, finding it MORE THAN PERFECT to have a god seek him out. Saved him all of the trouble of doing it the other way around. ❝ Lack of surprise in your voice tells me this isn’t the first time hearing it. ❞ Widows provide enough lighting for Doflamingo to see the smoke in the room. ❝ It’s as sacrilegious as you coming uninvited to my home. ❞ Meaning, hardly worth fussing about. ❝ To what specifically do I owe the pleasure of such visit? ❞

   A king who believes himself a God. It has happened before and like all mortals this one will die and slip into the afterlife. Time will take his name from the world, from mortal memory. He will be just another anecdote on the timeline. Another face in history. Insignificant as most mortals are. But for now, the mortal has drawn the dark god’s attention. He usually cares not for the machinations of humans with delusions of grandeur. He cares little for mortals in general, even those that worship him. The God of Fear prefers to be indifferent, to languish in his realm and pay attention to nothing. But that indifference vanishes once you insult those he loves. This mortal did just that, daring to goad the Lady of Light into giving him godhood. A fool’s wish.

   There is calm in the man’s voice. He is not as shaken as most would be by the Fear God’s presence. Unsurprising given his brazen attempts to use Ikkaku. Despite his calm, the Lord of Night Terrors can sense what he fears, can sense what drives him towards this desire for power. Such a pathetic being. So afraid of being forgotten.

   “Ah, but mortal, I was invited,” the god whispers, his own sly arrogance filling his tone. A truth for the maid provided the path. He cannot enter a realm without another offering a hand to him. He cannot move freely like some and thus the god of fear and chaos is forced to follow the rules created to govern his existence. Those chains chafe but it is what it is.

   There is a thoughtful hum in the air, a rumble in it as the god considers what to say to this man full of hubris. Will the truth serve him here? A truth certainly will be he doesn’t think he should provide his true reasons. No mortal has the right to know the whims of a god.

   “I come to bring you revelation, little king,” he says, voice smooth. The dark smoke swirls and writhes, twisting with sudden features. The snarling face of a tiger. The hissing of a snake. The chittering, many eyed gazes of a spider. The rattle of chains. Fear and terror in all its forms. Then the smoke comes together, bringing the dark god together with his obsidian hair and glowing gold eyes. Clawed hands appear beside the man’s head, black smoke pouring from the tattoo shaped cracks in his skin.

   “To show you that no matter what you do, what you strive for, your fate will be the same,” voice ends with a sinister whisper as the black smoke envelops the mortal, transferring his mind into the Nightmare.

[dandymaximilian]

What I find really interesting about Shrignold is the permanent grin he has plastered to his face.

In every scene he's in, whether he's lamenting to Yellow about "darkness, death and fear", sharing a tragic tale that seemingly leads to nowhere, or forcibly tying Yellow to a chair to "recruit" him...

Shrignold never once falters on his cheery disposition the entire episode. But why? Is it just a simple aesthetic choice because it looks creepy? Is it because his puppet is inherently limited in expression? Or is it something more?

Shrignold himself, and the other members, appear to be a sort of parody of mascots who have the same disturbing, permanent grin. A familiarly eerie sight to anyone to watched children television growing up. To any adult, this happiness looks uncanny; unreal; sinister even.

Even Michael, the loneliest boy in town, has the same wide grin despite his pain and suffering clearly shown in the seemingly random flashback. Why does he have this smile despite his tears? He's "grinning and bearing" his pain.

Besides from giving the audience a false sense of security, combined with the dreamy visuals, soft singing, upbeat music, and hopeful lyrics, I think the biggest take away from the constant smiling is a theme of "false happiness."

The theme of "grinning and bearing despite pain," vs "genuine happiness," is especially apparent when we see Red and Duck having a pleasant picnic together. Due to their facial limitations of their puppets, they have no expression on their faces whatsoever.

The natural quiet scene is a direct contrast to the cheery, saccharine musical number before it. Yet it conveys a more subtle sense of true happiness, despite the underlining sense of uneasiness from the DHMIS typical gore, than Shrignold's musical sequence ever does.

Further down the line, the audience gets a full glimpse of what Yellow's imagination looks like from within his very brain. He goes here not for a fun time, or because he's bored, but because he's trying to cope with the pain of loneliness.

Yellow's safe place is junveille in nature, filled with endlessly supportive members who love and support him unconditionally. Without outside influence from toxic people, it is free from the "darkness, death and fear."

But in return, Yellow is left a shell of the person he once was when fully immersed with this false reality, to the point where he is a literal husk, left to the whims of outside influences. He isn't truly happy in reality, but he's convinced himself that he is in his mind.

Yellow is lonely, desperate, and determined to keep the people in his life no matter what the cost. Not out of malice, but out of a childlike, innocent desire for love, friendship and a home without cruelty.

Yet, Yellow isn't morally pure either, as evident in the fight scene at the end of Friendship.

Sound familiar?

"Changing your name," "cleaning your brain", and "forgetting everything you ever knew." What is that, but the ultimate form of escapism for Shrignold and his "love cult"?

What if Shrignold actually had good intentions in his beliefs?

One could argue that Yellow is unknowingly following the same path as Shrignold once did, before he became a leader puppeted by a higher power.

Yellow's "brain was cleaned", or his older batteries were swapped for newer ones/vis versa. His "name was changed," from David to Yellow. And he "forgot everything he ever knew" before the events of DHMIS, orchestrated by a higher power in every sense of the word.

Either way, I love the underlining themes of false happiness, escapism, desperation and loneliness just one smile can convey.

[animalarte]

Hey, I hc that at least at first, when Danny was just getting used to his powers, he had episodes that in his human form his voice sounded kind of like an echo, and his friends had trouble focusing on him. He'd feel... not really there, not quite HUMAN.

Then other times, while he was patrolling the city or even fighting, his ectoplasmic form would be weighted down. The feeling of the lungs of his human form would hurt him in the chest, complaining against the cold of his core (which he was not aware of yet). He'd feel out of energy, drained as it took much more effort to move, and his essence that conformed his ghostly form felt under heavy pressure, as if being forced inside a container. As if he was solidifying, and his ghostliness didn't like it.

This would not happen so often as he spent more time as either a human or a ghost. But sometimes, both sides of him would counter each other. Not quite alive. Not fully dead.

Spectra's words echoed in his head, along with his own doubts and fears:

'YOU'RE A FREAK'

Over time, his ghost form shaped itself to his human body, and his teenage puberty changes made him adapt to having a very mighty soul inside (which got stronger as he trained with his powers). His metabolism wasn't quite the same as a regular human's, but his soul didn't work the same way as other ghost's either. He became his own creature, unlike anything in both realms. His human half was compatible with ectoplasm, shaped into it through puberty, and his ghost form was created right in the gap between the worlds, being able to be under living circumstances, and stick to a living and solid body.

Every time I talk about this, I mention Vlad. His ghost form was kinda forced into him. The accident he went through was very aggressive, and his change-resistant, grown-up body made it very hard to adapt. He spent a long time in a hospital until he was finally (very luckily for him) was able to pull through. But he never got as many powers as Danny (who got some new ones with time), even if his age and experience gave him advantage. He's not the same as Danny, and somehow, Danny is the real Half Ghost, creature of both realms. From where I see it, Vlad is like a time bomb. Sometime, his body won't be able to hold the ghost part anymore, finally rejecting it, and that will be his downfall.

Anyway! Got sucked into the fandom again and had to write this. Ya know. I can totally see Danny having an identity crisis and an emotional breakdown because of his contradiction, sometimes that his body and spirit turned against him and his mind was somewhere in the middle struggling. Feeling like a total freak and questioning if he's alive or not. Angsty stuff. We all love it.

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

I really liked this prompt by @nuttynutcycle and felt the need to write something with it. Soo, here it is! (NOTE: the story starts before the prompt, so it appears in the middle.)

Warning: none.

~~~~ Flying through the air, Hero held onto Villain's body so hard they swore they could feel their knuckles cracking. All their limbs had tightly wrapped around the other as soon as they jumped out of the burning building, the hero's face buried in the other's shoulder to not inhale the smoke, and also so they wouldn't have to see the destruction around them.

The entire city had fallen into ruin, and the villain's henchmen were everywhere. Hero wasn't aware they had so many people working for them, as their enemy only ever had a couple of men with them. But- But this? This was an army.

Was that all part of the plan? Was Villain sparely using their minions to trick the hero? To make them think they weren't capable of something like this?

To make them think they couldn't possibly take over the capital city? Take over the country?

...

As the villain's boots thumped against solid ground, they loosened their hold on Hero, letting them crumple to the floor and frantically scramble away until their wounds forced them to stop moving. Villain had flown them both over to a nearby rooftop, which building had yet to catch aflame.

From their spot on the ground, the hero shivered under their nemesis' silent stare. As a fire burned brightly in the distance behind the villain, their form became shrouded in shadows, adding to their terrifying aura.

The silence was unbearable, and Hero decided to be the first one to break it.

"Y-You saved me." - The hero trembled like a leaf in the wind, head still swimming from the intensity of the last few minutes. "W-Why?"

Villain, still quiet, slowly approached them, making them tense up in anticipation. Hero's breathing grew shaky as their enemy knelt beside them and gently cradled their face with one hand.

"I want you there when I win." - The villain brushed their cheek softly, a small smile on their face. "Whether it's by my side or at my feet is up to you."

"I- I-" - the hero struggled to answer, stuttering out nonsense as they looked into the other's dark eyes. Villain's smile fell at their hesitance, and they flinched in fright as the criminal let go of their face and stood back at full height, towering over them again.

Taking deep breaths in hopes of calming their racing heart, Hero observed as their nemesis walked to the nearby edge of the rooftop, just a few steps away from their shaking body. Villain looked out over the burning city, one arm neatly held behind their back and the other one resting on the parapet wall protecting them from falling off the building.

Not that it mattered if the villain fell off or not. With how many powers they had, Hero was, at this point, pretty convinced nothing could hurt them.

"That would be the correct assumption to make." - Villain calmly said, still admiring the view.

Confusion decorated Hero's face shortly before they realized what had happened. Telekinesis. You can add that to the endless list of their abilities.

Expression still neutral, the villain asked, "Hero, do you want to know how I managed to pull this off?"

Honestly, the hero just wanted this craziness to end, but they'd be lying if they said that their curiosity wasn't eating away at them. So, like the cat that put his nose where it didn't belong, they replied, "I- I do..."

Slightly turning their head to look at their nemesis, Villain quietly explained, "I became a god."

Worry instantly gripped Hero's chest at the other's answer. What- What was that supposed to mean? They- They were a human! A powerful one, true, but... b-but a god? H-How-

"How could y-you possibly achieve s-something like- like that?"

The villain smiled again, and the hero really wasn't liking the look on their face. It made them feel weak, like they were only prey waiting to get caught.

"You're not like the others, Hero... Surely you've noticed over the years how I became stronger and stronger?"

Hero... Hero had noticed it. The process was gradual, barely visible unless you've been there from the start like they had been. It went from Villain getting shot, going into hiding, and reappearing a few days later fully recovered to Villain conveniently surviving deadly explosions or poisons. Until, eventually, years later, they were straight-up getting their limbs blown off and regrowing them instantly right before the hero's very eyes.

Shakily exhaling, Hero's mind floated to a memory from a few weeks ago, back when this hell had first started. They still remembered the dread that filled them at the sight of their nemesis floating high up in the sky, their voice bellowing across the city as they commanded their army. The sheer amount of power that came off Villain at that moment made the hero's knees nearly give out under them. At that moment, Villain was truly above everyone else in every sense of the word.

"Exactly." - the villain's voice suddenly sounded in their ears, and Hero jumped back as their eyes refocused and recognized that their enemy was suddenly right in their face.

The hero's breath hitched as Villain held their face again, this time with both their hands, as they lowly continued. "I've made myself unkillable, indestructible, invincible."

As a glint of possessiveness shined in the criminal's eyes, Hero's eyebrows furrowed in concern, the villain bringing their faces closer. "And I could- No. I will make you the same, whether you want it or not."

Trembling in the other's grasp, the hero questioned, "B-B-But h-how?"

Resting their foreheads against one another, Villain answered, "The same way I've made myself so powerful... The same way I've made my henchmen so loyal and unbeatable..."

Voice barely above a whisper, they claimed, "I will share my powers with you."

Hero froze, only able to keep listening as the villain caressed their cheek again and continued talking. "Not all of them, of course, but know that... where the hierarchy is concerned... you could be my equal, my partner."

Removing themself from their nemesis yet again, Villain loomed over them ominously. "And this is where my question returns, dear Hero."

Standing tall, arms neatly held behind their back, their mere presence demanded that the hero answer them as their shadow fell over them.

"Do you stand by my side and rule together with me, or... do you go from being the government's dog to being my dog... for all eternity?"

With tears stinging at their eyes, Hero pleaded, "V-Villain, please, just- How?! How c-can you share your-?!"

"It's a power that I stole."

"Wh- What...?"

Eyes shining brighter than the fire, the villain explained once more, "My power... The power that I was born with... Is the ability to steal the powers of others."

As they ranted, they looked off into the distance, for a moment getting lost in the past. "And over the years... I've gathered every power that I'd need and more."

Turning back to the hero, they ignored the fear in the other's eyes. "With time, I've learned how to mutate them, how to combine them to make them even stronger, to make myself stronger."

Done explaining, they squared their shoulders. "Now, answer me." - Villain growled out, odd desperation in their voice. "Will you lay at my side or at my feet?"

Hero stared at them for a long while, battling internally before ultimately, their gaze turned away from them, making them sigh in frustration. Clearly, they had to go about this a different way.

"Hero, you can't deny that we're not so different."

That got the hero's attention again, so the villain continued, "We both want what's best for this country."

Now it was Hero's turn to get upset, their face twisted into an appalled snarl as they demanded, "What's best for the country...?! HOW IS THIS WHAT'S BEST FOR THE COUNTRY?!"

They pointed at the destruction around them, nostrils blaring, as they paid no heed to the pain in their lungs, and Villain had to take a deep breath due to the other's stubbornness. Why did they have to be so difficult?

"Changes needed to be made. The system was broken, and you know it."

"W-Well yes, but-" - Hero faltered, trying to argue back, but their enemy cut them off.

"But what? Have you bothered to make a change, hmm? Bothered to take action?"

Not awaiting a response, Villain answered for them. "No, you didn't. You just followed your little orders, thinking that things would magically turn better."

"How is this better...?" - Hero croaked out, losing hope of winning this argument.

Frustrated, the villain yelled, startling the other. "GAH! JUST TAKE A PROPER LOOK AROUND, HERO!"

The criminal grabbed their nemesis by the arm and effortlessly dragged them over to the edge, making them look at the city, this time not through the lens of fear but the lens of truth.

As they finally took a real look at what was happening, a look not misguided by being down there in the heat of the moment, Hero noticed the way Villain's henchmen weren't attacking the civilians, but rather... escorting them away from the danger...?

They finally saw how the people willingly went with them, how they didn't even look scared of them. No, they only grew frightened when... when the heroes showed up... and... started mindlessly firing in the henchmen's direction..., not caring about the people who would... who would get caught in the crossfire...

...

...

"Do you understand yet, Hero...?" - Villain softly whispered, watching as their henchmen dutifully followed their orders, knocking the heroes out and capturing them, protecting the civilians from the necessary chaos.

"I want peace... I want equality... I want things to be right just as much as you do..."

As the wind softly blew against them, Hero turned to face their... enemy...? and was surprised to see tears spilling from their eyes as they continued.

"...But I can't make things right unless I'm in charge..."

Shaking, Villain questioned, "So tell me, Hero. Are you going to stand in my way? In the way of progress?"

With their fists clenching at their sides, the villain whispered painfully, "I don't want to force you to your knees..., but I will do it if I have to."

The hero looked at them, an array of emotions on their face, their own tears having fallen down their cheeks long ago. They opened their mouth to reply but failed to utter even a word. With conflicted feelings, their face scrunched up in thought, their gaze returning to the city below.

Villain stood beside them silently, awaiting their answer. Their body was more tense than the day they had opened fire upon the city. They didn't want to hurt Hero. They didn't. But... But if they had no other choice...

"Villain..." - the hero's meek voice barely reached their ears, but they stiffened nonetheless. "You..."

Arms suddenly wrapped around the villain's waist as Hero held onto them, muttering into their shoulder with an unsteady voice.

"...You better not make me regret this..."

With hope twinkling in their eyes, Villain asked, "D-Does... Does that mean you...?"

"I'll join you. I'll be at your side."

Relief flooded Villain's entire being at the hero's decision. They returned the embrace, tightly holding onto the other as if they would disappear at any moment.

"Thank you, Hero... And..., I'm sorry..."

Sorry? About what-?

Pain suddenly erupted in Hero's chest, their first thought being betrayal as their entire body burned with agony. They screamed and thrashed, trying to get away, but Villain held onto them with an unyielding grip, their heart aching at the hero's frantic shouts and thoughts.

Luckily, the whole ordeal only lasted about a minute, and Hero fell limp in the other's hold once it was over, breathing shakily, a few sobs escaping them from the unexpected pain and stress. As their heart rate began to slow back down and their mind had managed to calm down, they noticed that something was different and gasped quietly, as they felt something inside of themself.

Power.

So, so much power it made them shudder.

Was... Was this how Villain always...?

No, the villain didn't feel like this; they were stronger. Much stronger. Hero could feel it now, could feel the power thrumming inside their ex-nemesis. And as their mind focused, in the distance, all around them, they could sense Villain's henchmen, and even then, all the henchmens' and Hero's power combined was nothing compared to the villain's.

Villain was so much grander than all of them. They...

They really did become a god.

...

...

The feeling of a hand gently rubbing circles into their back brought the hero back to the present. Their eyes had closed at some point, so they fluttered them open again and lifted themself off the villain's shoulder.

Oh, when had they fallen to the ground? Both of them were on their knees, Hero's legs must've given out, and Villain probably lowered the two of them.

"I'm really sorry about that..." - the villain apologized again, a bit of concern on their face. "How... How do you feel?"

It was then that Hero noticed that they felt... good. Amazing even. They felt better than they ever had before. They were so full of energy, and their wounds had disappeared too.

"I-I'm good." - they eventually responded with a small smile. "And apology accepted."

With a smile of their own, Villain pulled themself to their feet, the hero moving with them. They stood there in silence for a few seconds, softly holding each other's hands. Both their gazes momentarily caught on one another's lips, but no. That could wait. After all, they had all the time in the world now and... some more pressing matters at hand.

Calling forth their power, the villain slowly lifted themself into the air, Hero following suit, listening intently as their partner instructed them on how to use their new powers. Together, they went off, conquering the country and at last making things right.