#But you have to understand words have power and people use those words on purpose

[akhmenos]

I was doing a setting for a DnD campaign where gods are made by faith, and my players might a true Elder Being, the spirit of Volcanoes, and his (? we're gonna go with his because the players read the speaker as male and what is a god but how they are perceived?) speech went a little like this:

"Do you know from where we come, mortal? The first time a living thing attempted to predict the world, it made something that never was and yet is And on and on it grew, until the first of your kind rose, blinking in the light, and it named that light. And the light was More. And the fire was More and the water was More, and all creation was More because you named them and tried to understand them.

But you couldn't. Your eyes are too small, your knowledge too shallow, and the world too vast. And so you created us. You made the world make sense by forcing it to exist as you do. No more was the storm just a collection of pressure zones and humidity, moved and powered by the sun and the sea, it was the wrath of an angry God. Death was not the inevitable result of temporary processes ending, it was a monster that came in the night to steal you away. Mountains bursting with fire and destruction was not the pressure of a molten and moving core, it was Me.

And we loved you. How could we not? You made us to help you, to make the world better, to make it make sense. You made us to love you, and we did. I taught you the words that you had already made, that would ignite my fires and birth land from the water, and together we made a world. We were nothing but tools, I guess, but we were tools that could serve our purpose. Can you imagine it, little one? Can you imagine being born out of nothing but your creator's desire for you, and being used to make something wonderful? You always imagined us loving you paternally, but that is because you made us to do so.

And then you left us. You forgot us. You made better tools, better words, better magic, and at first we rejoiced - look at the things you made with those new tools. Shining cities and vast farmlands. More of your kind growing from the land that we had made together than had ever been born before. And then the wars started, and you tore at each other and at the world. You tore at the magic of the world, and you killed us in the name of victory. The seas are dry, the greenery nearly gone. The desert so omnipresent that you've ceased naming it, and so my people have faded. We are made Less by what you've done. I am an echo of a memory, and even that fades.

We are born because you long for us, and we die because you forget us. And after all these years, I wonder if that is not a kind of mercy."

For the past few years I've been enchanted by the idea of the divine as intrinsically horrific and dehumanizing, but not in the usual assumption (pun intended), where the intrinsic dehumanization and horror comes from something like "A god looked at me and I turned into stone" or "I, a mortal, looked at a god and got turned into a laurel tree".

I've been thinking about it in the opposite direction. Where being a god is intrinsically horrific and dehumanizing.

To put it another way: I've been writing a lot from the perspective of divinity where the god experiences godhood in the way a haunted house experiences househood. You were created by mortals for comfort, for condolence, for safety, for sympathy. You were built with all the care and special attention to ensure that you would last a long time--longer than your inhabitants would live, but that's fine, because they'll leave you descendants.

Except you, unlike the average house, have a brain. Have hands. Have a stomach which can hunger but never starve. You cannot die, but you know what death is. You see humans and raccoons and spiders and trees and rocks and everything else in this whole world die all the time, but it will not touch you.

How many years do you think it takes before your mouth starts to salivate like your gut's gone sour? How many endings do you have to witness before you begin to stop caring when things you paid attention to die? How many times do you hear your name contort and twist under the weight of different empires' languages before you stop recognizing it as yours anymore, and cease answering when they call?

How long does it take before you stop being capable of interacting with the rest of the world in a way that a person can understand, can safely comprehend, would ever want to experience?

And how much of that, do you think, do you let happen on purpose, because the alternatives were all too much to even begin to imagine after one too many mountains turned to sand before your eyes?

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Guys, if there's any fandom drama I'm going to get into, once again, let it be this:

"Proshipper" is a pedophilia/incest/abuse term now.

It doesn't matter if you use it for good. It doesn't matter if it's supposed to mean "ship supporting". It doesn't matter if you try to reclaim it.

As long as you tell people the term is harmless, people will use it to get away with engaging in pedophilia, incest, abuse, and more. They will use it to disguise their behavior as something misunderstood under the assumption it's "fandom freedom". It's not, it's wrong. Don't help provide a safe space for these types of people. Clear them out of our fandoms.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi there! I'm currently watching the original X men series to catch up to 97, and I'm in love with Gambit.

Would it be possible to ask for Remy and reader to be on a secret mission, and the Ole "make out so they don't suspect us" trope comes in, and gambit kinda (obviously) has feelings...?

It could be sfw or nsfw, either is perfect! Thank you for all that you do, I've been trying to find fics for the xmen for a while 🙏🙏

Kinda spicy! Gambit/GN!reader

YESS!! YESSSS!!! I legit had a dream about this situation with remy the day before you sent me this ask and I was cackling in joy when I saw this! I basically hyperfixated on it because I love this trope.

TWS: sexual themes n shit, no explicit smut. As always, reader written while picturing fem! but no specific pronouns mentioned. Semi-public making out and touching. Nipples be touched but size and type of breast not mentioned.

-Ps- reader can see heat signatures for plot purposes. I usually try to keep powers ambiguous but it was a NEED!

"In here, quick!" Remy's thick draw catches your attention, just before he yanks you into an alley. The two of you were in New Orleans, looking for a specific mutant Xavier wanted to talk to. The only downside was that Remy still had a warrant out for his arrest, and wanted posters plastered all over the city from bourbon Street to the garden district.

"Don't worry Cher. You said. NOPD 'dumber than a sack of rocks, you said!" You gripe at him. Remy laughs, tugging you around the corner. The alleyways on Burbon street are mostly private areas, owned and sealed off by the bars that line the storefronts- but Remy knew this city like the back of his hand. However, things had changed since he was here last. That became apperent when the two of you reach the end of the alleyway and there's a brand new brick wall, a dead end.

Remy curses and skids to a stop, causing you to slam into his back. You send him a dirty look as you whip around, eyes adjusting to the brick surroundings. It's hard to make out the figures of the cops through the walls of the busy bar in in front of you, too many people crowding the street for drinks even this late at night. You strain your eyes a bit, but are able to make out the stiff-shouldered men, heat signature slightly elevated from booking it after the two of you. Unfortunately, they're headed towards the mouth of the alleyway.

"Damnit." You mutter, turning back to Remy. He understands what you mean just by looking at your face. He hums, thinking for a moment before he begins to take out a playing card. You grab his arm to stop him, trying to ignore how warm his skin is against your own.

"Don't. The explosion will just lead them to us." You say. Remy nodds, glancing at the corner before suddenly caging you against the wall of the alleyway. You try not to blush as he does so. Remy smirks at you, and you think your heart might just explode. You remind yourself that this is standard Remy behavior, but it doesn't stop your face from heating up. You can only hope it's too dark for him to see you properly.

"Well, there is another way we could fool those pigs." Remy says, quieter than before. You cock an eyebrow at him before looking back over in the direction of the alleyways opening, able to spot the cops as they begin to enter. In your peripheral, you see Remy running his fingers through his hair to flatten it. You open your mouth to ask him what he has in mind, but the sound of footsteps cut you off.

"-Well, if you're going to do something, you better do it quick!" You whisper back at him. Remy pushes you further against the cold brick, his hands drifting down to your waist as he leans over to wisper in your ear.

"Trust me, Cher. I'll take care of you." His words cause goosebumps to rise at the back of your neck, and you hardly have time to react before he's kissing you. Your eyes are blown wide, heart thumping wildly as you start to slowly relax into the kiss.

Unsurprisingly, Remy is a really, really good kisser. It's hard to focus while he's touching you like this, kissing you deeply like he loves you. He nips at your lip, and you gasp, having forgotten about everything else already. His tongue darts into you mouth, caressing the skin he finds there. You let out a small moan as one of his hands drifts lower, caressing your thigh and hiking your leg up just a bit. Your own hands slowly slide up his chest, drifting to his neck.

The heat in your chest is unbearable when Gambit separates from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths before he wipes it away, nothing but affection on his eyes. You're panting for breath while he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then lower. Remy places wet kisses on your neck, sucking and biting as he tries to swallow you whole. You thread your hands through his soft hair as his does so, fully encouraging him to ravage you in whatever way he would like. One of his hands begins to slide under your shirt when a cough startles you out of your heated state.

Your first instinct is to turn towards the noise, but Gambit is quick to cup your cheek and pull you into another heated kiss before your head could move a centimeter. He keeps you occupied as his other hand fully caresses the skin beneath your shirt, squeezing and caressing your chest. You hear another exhausted sigh from the cops. You crack and eye open slightly, knowing they cant see you do so in the dark. One of them begins to raise his voice, but the other smacks him on the shoulder.

"Just another pair of drunks. We've got bigger things to worry about right now." The cop says. You could practically hear the other roll his eyes before they turn to and walk away. Gambit brings your attention back to him and only him when you feel a finger brush lightly against your nipple. You gasp, and Remy chuckles, playfully biting your lip as he pulls away. He's smirking as he looks at you, and you can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Looks like you enjoyed that." He teases, voice low and husky. You can't seem to pull your thought together properly when he's looking at you like that. You nervously look away, hands playing with his collar.

"And if I did?" You ask, glancing back at him to gage his reaction. He looks surprised at first, face morphing into a lovestruck smile before he tries to cover it up with a smirk. Didn't stop you from being able to see the heat rise to his cheeks, however.

"Then gambit thinks we should do this more often."

[etherealkissed88]

daydreaming vs visualization vs imagination

i was thinking about before i got into the law. you know when you imagine steamy scenarios before you go to bed for fun? i know you know what i mean. i used to do that every night in 2020 (even now) with the same scenario bc it was fun. keep in mind that i didnt know about the law at this point so i obviously didnt intend for it to "manifest". a year ago when i started to understand states, i used to think back to 2020 and wonder why those scenarios didnt manifest since i kept visualizing and imagining the same thing. last week i randomly remembered about how i used to wonder that and i immediately knew the answer: i wasnt changing self.

when i was visualizing/imagining, i wasnt becoming the person who actually knew i was experiencing it. i was not being someone who was experiencing those steamy scenarios. in order words, i was just daydreaming.

daydreaming

in my own words, i think daydreaming is visualizing something while being someone who knows they dont have it. for example: visualizing owning a car while knowing that you dont have it. so you are just visualizing it for fun, not for the purpose of changing self but for the purpose of just experiencing something in imagination (via visualization) just for your own enjoyment. daydreaming is like visualizing for fun, without changing states/self. this "knowing" i talk about is based on what state you are in, so if someone knows they dont have a car, they are in that state.

i think daydreaming is always visualization but visualization is not always daydreaming. daydreaming is for fun, without the intention of "manifesting" or changing states while visualization is changing states whether or not you intent to do so.

so i was visualizing my freaky scenes as the version of me who didnt identify with those freaky scenes (aka daydreaming). i wasnt identifying with it or using it to change self. same thing applies to when i used to repeat positive thoughts 100k times but i didnt identify with them. those are called vain repetitions and can be used to change self but if they just dont change self/states, then it is just daydreaming/vain repetitions. you can change self/states without realizing too which is why i think people put so much power onto techniques by thinking the techniques themselves are doing something, when its only self (imagination/you) that is changed by the techniques. those techniques were the things that consciously or unconsciously made you change self. regardless, self/you will always be the thing manifesting.

realize that regardless of everything, your state/version of you you are being, will always determine the "3d".

visualization ≠ imagination

visualization is a tool to change self / imagination. you can visualize things but that doesnt mean you are identifying with it or accepting it as true. i think of visualization as a smaller form of imagination but its very small compared to imagining/imagination itself.

imagination is what you are (aka self). imagination is not a tool like visualization because you always are operating in imagination since everything is self. you are always being a version of you. you arent always visualizing. visualizing can be daydreaming if you arent visualizing that thing to change self.

when you imagine something in a law of assumption context, imagining = what version of you you are being.

imagination is not limited to visualizing. there are some people in this community who have aphantasia and think they have no imagination and therefore "cant manifest", etc. but they just cant visualize. imagination is not equal to visualization. no matter what type of or stage of aphantasia you have, you will always already be manifesting.

visualizing and thinking without changing self means nothing. changing self means being a new version of you who knows they have (insert whatever desire).

self changes everything

so back to my story, i was just visualizing me and my imaginary bae, i wasnt being the person who was experiencing what i was visualizing. this is why it didnt manifest. i like this idea because that is just more proof that self changes everything, who ever you are being in imagination will express. it also means i have control bc i can daydream anything for fun and control whether or not it expresses bc i dont have to identify with that version of me who is experiencing whatever i am daydreaming.

i hope this makes sense and if it doesnt, dont stress. just focus on changing self, be the version of you that has whatever it is you want. i made this post because its been on my mind and hopefully it can help someone else realize that changing self is all you ever have to do.

kisses, jani ☆

[xndrexcruz]

When You Get Shipped With Another Player | FC BARCELONA

✮- summary: how they react to fans shipping you with another barca player

✮- warnings: none i don’t think

Requests are open

masterlist here

João Félix

“How come fans think you’re a better match with Marc Guiu than with me?” João grumbled, throwing his bag down by the door.

You glanced up at him from your book, raising an eyebrow. “Fans are just being fans, João. They see what they want to see, you know how it is.”

He walked over to you and plopped down besides you, a pout forming on his puffy lips. “Mas não é justo. Somos perfeitos juntos.” (“It’s not fair though. We’re perfect together.”)

You slightly chuckled, putting your book aside and leaning closer to your boyfriend. “We know that, but they don’t. They just enjoy making up different scenarios, nothing serious.”

“Yeah, but why Marc? I mean he’s a pretty good guy and all, but he’s obviously not me,” João insisted, wrapping his arms around you possessively.

You pressed a kiss to his lips and then trailed a line of kisses along his jaw. “Maybe just maybe, they can’t handle how perfect we are together.” You whispered in between kisses, “They need some drama to entertain themselves.”

João signed, his body relaxing under your soft touch. “I just really hate seeing those comments. It makes me want to scream to the world that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“One day, I promise. For now, let’s just enjoy what we have now,” you whispered, kissing him deeply.

“Yeah, you’re right, João murmured against your lips, his jealousy melting away. “As long as we know the truth right, that’s all that matters.”

Pablo Gavi

“I swear, if I see one more post shipping you with Héctor, i’m actually going to lose it,” Gavi fumed, pacing around the room.

You signed, shutting your laptop closed. “Pablo, it’s just fans having fun. They don’t mean any harm.”

He stopped pacing and looked at you, frustration evident when you looked at him in the eyes. “But it bothers me. They think you two would be a quote on quote amazing couple.”

You stood up and walked over to him, placing your hands on his chest. “Do you really I care about what they think? I’m with you because I’m head over heels for you.”

Gavin’s expression softened at your words, but he still seemed restless. "Es difícil ignorarlo, ¿sabes? Quiero que todos sepan que eres mi novia". (“It’s just hard to ignore, you know? I want everyone to know you’re my girlfriend.”)

You kissed his lips and then both his cheeks, feeling him shiver at the contact. “I know, trust me I know, but we had both agreed to keep things private in the meantime. We just have to trust that our love for one another is strong enough.”

He signed at your words, wrapping his arms around you and putting his head in the crook of your neck. “It is. I’m sorry for getting frustrated. It’s not on purpose.”

You smiled, leaning your head to kiss him. “It’s okay. I just want you to remember that you’re the one I choose every single day, just you.”

Pedri González

“I don’t understand why people think you and João would make such a power couple,” Pedri muttered, scrolling through his phone.

You rolled your eyes, setting you coffee mug down on the coffee table. “Because they don’t about the two of us, Pedri. They’re only speculating.”

He looked up at you, concern written across his face. “But it still bothers me. I want them to see how perfect I am for you.”

You walked over and sat next to him, taking his hands into yours. “I know it must be hard, but it’s just make believe, I’m with you not João. We know what’s actually real.”

Pedri only let out a huff, squeezing your hands. “Sinceramente, odio la idea de que alguien más que no sea yo pueda estar contigo”. (“I just honestly hate the thought of anyone else being with you who isn't me.”)

You leaned in, kissing him lovingly before moving to his neck. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m all yours Pedri.”

A smile started forming on his lips. “You’re right, of course you are. It only matters that you and I know the truth no one else matters.”

“Exactly,” you murmured, kissing his lips again.

Fermín López

“We could always let our relationship go public to stop the rumors about you and Lamine,” Fermín suggested, frustration evident in his voice.

You looked at him in surprise. “You do remember you were the one who wanted to keep our relationship hidden from the public to protect us, right?”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his combed hair. “Lo sé, pero es duro ver a los fans pensar que tú y él son más adecuados el uno para el otro”. (“I know, but it’s hard seeing fans think you and him are better suited for each other.”)

You laid your head on his chest before speaking. “It’s just rumors. They don’t mean anything.”

Fermín pulled you closer into him, kissing the top of your head. “It’s just annoying. I always see those type of comments.”

You tilted your head up to see him, kissing his adam’s apple. “It doesn’t matter what the fans think. We’re the ones together.”

He nodded his head, sighing as he relaxed his head on top of yours. “You’re right Y/n. I’m sorry for getting so worked up over that.”

You gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. As long as I’m with you.”

Héctor Fort

“Why do fans seem to think you’d be better with Pedri than you would be with me?” Héctor annoyingly grumbled, tossing his phone aside.

You looked up from the movie you had been watching. “Héctor they don’t know any better. The fans are just imagining things, they would think differently if they knew we were dating.”

He walked over and sat next to you, while wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I just want every person to know that you’re mine, not anybody else’s.”

You leaned against his shoulder, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “One day they all will. But for now, let’s enjoy our relationship as it is, okay?”

Héctor nodded, resting his head over yours to find comfort in your touch. "Bé. Em molesta tant veure comentaris com que m'irrita molt.” (“Okay. It just bothers me so much seeing comments like that it really irritates me.””

You moved off his shoulder, placing you hand on his defined jawline. “Just don’t let it get to you. Because nothing will change the fact that I’m your girlfriend Héctor.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I won’t, not anymore.”

Lamine Yamal

"Of all the players, they think you'd go out with Fermín," Lamine muttered, scrolling through his phone.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Fans will ship anyone with anyone. It doesn't mean anything, you should know that."

He looked at you, concern clear in his eyes. "Doesn’t change the fact that it’s annoying. They should know I’m your boyfriend."

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Maybe but at least we know that you are my incredible and loving boyfriend."

Lamine cracked a small smile, pulling you closer. "No puedo esperar hasta el día en que el mundo sepa que estamos juntos. Entonces, esto hará que dejemos de emparejarte con otras personas que no son tus novios.” (“I can’t wait till the day the world knows that we’re together. Then this will stop all the shipping you with other people who aren’t your boyfriend.")

You kissed his neck, feeling him relax. "Don’t let it get to you. Soon enough everyone will know, I promise Lamine."

He smiled, kissing you softly. "You better keep your promise"

Marc Guiu

"How am I supposed to ignore the fans shipping you with Gavi?" Marc exclaimed, frustration clear in his voice as he spoke.

You sighed, looking up from your phone. "It’s just rumors. They don’t know what they’re talking about half the time."

He looked at you, concern etched on his face. "Però em molesta molt. Sé que tu i en Gavi no esteu passant res, però només pensar-hi em molesta molt". ("But it really bothers me. I know that you and Gavi don’t have anything going on but just thinking about it annoys me so much.")

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Exactly. So don’t worry about something that silly."

Marc sighed, pulling you closer. "I just hate seeing people think Gavi could do a better job at being your boyfriend than I can."

You kissed his neck, feeling his body starting to relax. "Don’t let it get to you. We know that you are the only boy for me."

"That you’re right about." He smirked, as he kissed your lips.

[niccolites]

can't stop thinking about that highlander art by @lurrlonde found here

highlander!soap who is the son of a laird. fiercely against the English, and with no time for politics. his father is at his wit's end with him, sick of the constant reports of his son firing up rebellion's wherever he goes, causing bother with English soldiers, making it difficult anyone in the clan to not be tarred with the same brush - troublemaker

his father tries to set up countless betrothals for his son. a wife would calm him, give him something in the centre of him. johnny shirks this off as well. the ladies are sweet things (and maybe he does charm a few of them into letting him slide his hands up their skirts), but they don't settle him. he is ravenous, an open maw in the shape of a man. these ladies with their practiced words would be swallowed up by him, dainty fingers that are snapped off to reveal delicate white bone

but, he does love his father, so in the light of the fifth attempted engagement that he spurns, he stays and helps his father out. meetings with other clansmen, the politics boring the shit out of him. but he does know his duty, even if he believes that he answers to a higher power than the pleasing of other lairds

you live in a small village of little consequence. at least you did, until some englishmen roll through and start up trouble. angered at the torching of a nearby fortress of theirs, and more than happy to let off that steam nearby. unluckily for you

and johnny, finally listening to the twitch of his hands and heading out to escape the counting of his father's rents, happens upon the scene of you shrieking in your burning field. held back by one soldier, another torching your crops. a third, trying to rip open your bodice as you scream, red in the face and crying

johnny, more broadsword than man, hasn't swung his arm out in a few weeks. your screams are a divine calling and he answers, barely half a thought of a plan before he is across the field, bloodletting until his muscles sing with it. a higher purpose, received and delivered.

he kills all three of the men, only gets a cut along his brow and a bayonet in his calf in return. lightwork, but it certainly seems a lot of blood to you

there is dead men in your field, but you drag the man who spared you the worst of it into your home after you manage to extinguish the fire before it ruins everything that you and your brother have managed to plant that spring

he really has been worse off, but he leans on you just a little more than he should. feels the buckle of your knees and eases up again, apologises for being a burden and basks in the the rush as you tell him that of course he's not, he's just at least 2 heads taller than you and it's more weight than you're used to carrying. he understands, angel, this all must be a lot for you

in your home, you let him slump in a chair and kneel down to dress the wound on his calf. his blood stains your skin and he watches, enraptured. red into the fine lines of your palms, like maybe it had been there even before you had stitched up the cut in his leg. stares down at you, struck silent with dark eyes that make the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up. something about him making you nervous even as you force that down, given he likely saved you from a fate worse than death from those soldiers

you stand up and now he's looking up at you instead, mouth parted as he watches every slight shift of movement that you do. you reach for his face, a damp flannel that you clean the cut on his brow with. his chest heaves, and you feel it, like a phantom ache in your own lungs

you ask if it hurts at all. drowned in the sweet cup of your hands on his face, he tells you that pain could not be further from his mind

you're why he's doing this, he realises. every fight he has been in has honed his body for this, for saving you. his father has been trying to convince him of his purpose, to be laird to his people, but he's found it here, in the clasp of your hands

you suddenly realise that you are treating a wounded animal, mistaking it for a tamed beast. you pull your hand back, but the teeth snap shut, caught

[growthhyp]

The Transforming Cum III

Zayne’s eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and ambition as he watched Jonathan flex his new muscles. The park was quiet now, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the grass. Chris stood beside him, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. Zayne could feel the power radiating from Jonathan—untapped potential waiting to be unleashed.

“Jonathan,” Zayne said, stepping closer, his voice smooth and commanding. “What you just experienced… it’s only the beginning. Your body has been reborn, but your mind? That needs to catch up.”

Jonathan blinked, his expression a mixture of awe and confusion. “What do you mean?”

Zayne placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, locking eyes with him. “You’re strong now. Stronger than most men could ever dream of being. But strength isn’t just about muscle. It’s about confidence. About understanding what you’re capable of.” His voice softened, almost hypnotic. “Close your eyes, Jon. Breathe in deeply. Feel the power coursing through you.”

Without hesitation, Jonathan obeyed. His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply, his massive frame relaxing under Zayne’s touch. Zayne’s voice continued, low and steady, weaving its way into Jonathan’s subconscious.

“Imagine yourself standing tall, not just physically, but mentally. You’re a force to be reckoned with. People look at you and they see a leader. Someone who can change lives. You have the ability to help others—to heal them, to make them stronger. Do you understand?”

Jonathan nodded slowly, his breathing even, his jaw set with determination. “Yes,” he murmured. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Zayne said, a sly smile curling his lips. “Now, listen carefully. Your body… it’s more than just muscle. There’s something inside you—something potent. A gift. When the time comes, you’ll know how to use it. You’ll spread this power to those who need it most. Those who are weak, sick, broken. You’ll give them a second chance.”

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, Zayne thought he saw a flash of doubt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a steely resolve. “I get it,” Jonathan said, his voice firm. “I’ll make a difference.”

Chris chuckled, clapping Jonathan on the back. “That’s the spirit, big guy. Now go home. Get used to that new body of yours. And when you’re ready… you’ll know what to do.”

---

Jonathan walked home in a daze, his mind still buzzing with Zayne’s words. He felt like a different person—no, not just different. Better. Stronger. More alive than he’d ever been. His reflection in store windows caught his eye as he passed, and each time he stopped to admire himself. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a chest that seemed to defy gravity. Even his stride had changed, confident and purposeful.

When he finally reached his apartment, he barely recognized the man stepping through the door. The place felt smaller somehow, as if it couldn’t contain the enormity of who he’d become. He stripped off his shirt, the fabric clinging to his sweat-soaked skin, and stood in front of the mirror.

Monster. The word popped into his head unbidden, but he didn’t flinch. He liked it. His hands roamed over his body, tracing the ridges of his abs, the bulging curves of his biceps. Every inch of him was carved to perfection, hard and unyielding. His cock hung heavy between his legs, thicker than he remembered, and he couldn’t resist wrapping his fingers around it.

A low groan escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself, his other hand roaming over his chest, pinching a nipple, feeling the sheer mass of his pecs. His eyes never left the mirror, watching the way his muscles flexed and rippled with every movement. He’d never felt so… powerful.

“You’ll know what to do,” Zayne’s voice echoed in his mind.

Jonathan’s strokes grew faster, his breathing harsher. He could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling tight in his gut. His balls tightened, and with a guttural roar, he came, thick ropes of cum splattering against his chest and abs. He kept stroking, milking every last drop, until he was spent.

Panting, he looked down at himself, his cum glistening against his skin. Something stirred in him then—a primal urge, raw and undeniable. Without thinking, he dipped a finger into the mess, bringing it to his lips. The taste was salty, earthy, but there was something else too. Something electric.

He licked his fingers clean, then leaned down to lap up the rest directly from his skin. As he swallowed, a jolt ran through him, like a surge of pure energy. His cock twitched, swelling impossibly larger, thicker. He stumbled back, staring in disbelief as his erection stretched to 12 inches, veiny and throbbing with power.

But it wasn’t just his cock. His muscles bulged, expanding right before his eyes. His chest broadened, his shoulders widened, his arms thickened until they were like tree trunks. He could feel the density of his body increasing, every fiber of his being growing tighter, stronger. The mirror showed a titan, a god among men.

Jonathan laughed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. “Holy shit,” he muttered, flexing his arms again. “This is insane.”

And then it hit him—the realization of what had just happened. His seed… it wasn’t just a part of him. It was the key. The catalyst. He could share this power. He could transform others just as Zayne had transformed him.

His phone buzzed on the counter, snapping him out of his thoughts. He picked it up, glancing at the screen. A text from an unknown number: “You’ve got a gift, Jon. Use it wisely.”

Jonathan grinned, his eyes gleaming with newfound purpose. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

[lutorao]

Doffy 🦩

Doffy being jealous over Luffy, is my fav moment

let me explain okay?

here we go

Doffy knew every single thing about Law

how he survived, his backstory, his history, his goals(this is debatable cauz his goals changed after Cora's death) and etc.

Law was a traumatized child who had lost everyone and everything. He believed that he only had 3 years left to live, so he had to experience everything in those three years.

he lost his parents, his sister, his friends and everyone

Doffy was a man who had experienced hunger, the kind that gnawed at your bones and left you hollow. He had known the anguish of losing a parent, the primal fear of death stalking his every step, and the burning rage that only betrayal and abandonment could ignite. Doflamingo was no ordinary tyrant; he was a man molded by pain, and that pain had birthed his relentless hunger for power and control.

Law reminded himself of this truth every time he thought of the man who had once loomed over him like a god. He had seen that rage firsthand—the seething fury of someone who had lost everything and now sought to take everything from others in return. Doflamingo wasn’t just a warlord; he was a survivor who had clawed his way to the top, dragging anyone he could down into the depths with him

And then one day he finds out that Law created an alliance with who? with Luffy

Doffy had high hopes for him

But Law had walked away. He had chosen someone else.

Doffy couldn’t forgive that.

For all his power and charisma, Doffy was a man who demanded loyalty to the point of obsession. Law’s betrayal wasn’t just a practical blow; it was a personal insult, a rejection of the twisted connection they had once shared. And worse, Law had chosen him.

Monkey D. Luffy.

A man who embodied everything Doffy scorned. A fool with reckless dreams, an idealist who sought freedom in a world where freedom didn’t exist.

So yes he got mad,of course he got,he was confused. law isn't someone who trusts people that easily. he was confused because he chose luffy, why him? why luffy? why he trust him that much?

What could Law possibly see in him? Doflamingo had given Law purpose, power, and the means to enact his revenge. Luffy had given him… hope? Friendship? Law could almost hear Doflamingo’s sneer as he thought of it: "I made you. I saved you. And you abandoned me for him?"

Why did you choose him, Law?! I thought you were a smarter man than this!" The anger in these words isn’t simply about the alliance; it’s deeply personal. Doflamingo prides himself on understanding people, bending them to his will, and shaping them into extensions of his vision. Law choosing Luffy is, to Doflamingo, proof that he misjudged Law. Worse, it highlights Doflamingo’s own insecurities his inability to inspire true loyalty beyond fear or manipulation.

Doflamingo’s jealousy stems from this realization. Law’s choice wasn’t just about strategy, it was about rejecting Doflamingo’s way of life in favor of something he could never offer: trust, camaraderie, and a vision of a world not ruled by fear. For a man like Doflamingo, who thrives on dominance and sees relationships as tools, this rejection is both infuriating and incomprehensible.

he was still here, thinking about him, right?

"do you remember the first day we met law?"

imagine how annoying this was for him

Doffy was the man who taught Law how to fight. Doffy was the man who killed his own brother because his brother "betrayed" him. Now imagine how disappointed, angry, and hurt he must have been when he discovered that the person he had placed so much hope in—the one he thought would one day become his right-hand man, whether to exact revenge or fulfill his own ambitions—had chosen someone else. A pirate. Someone for whom Law had risked everything in the middle of a war to save his life. And if that wasn’t enough, now an alliance? Against him, no less. Many believe that Law used Luffy. Really?

Does this pannel really look like he was using him?

And as strange as it may seem, Law truly wasn’t opposed to the idea of Luffy using him instead.

How crazy must a person be?!

I mean look at is face

"using? who's using whom...?

As if that wasn’t enough, he also entrusted Luffy with his deepest secret—Corazon. He preferred to die alongside Luffy rather than live without him. And on top of that, he worried about him? Is the alliance over? What are you doing here?

Law, get a grip—you’re being far too obvious!

A man who had no faith, who trusted no one, suddenly shares his deepest secret with someone else? Oh, Law… And to place his hopes in him, of all people? Yet, look at how confident and happy he is every single time Luffy declares he’ll become the Pirate King. He was like, “That’s my boy.”

(from anime btw)

and I don’t know if it’s because of Cora, maybe even Luffy, but it’s clear that this character’s development is undeniable, right?

Thank u

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Gamer Boyfriend Scenarios

A collection of parodies to satisfy everyone’s desire for a happy ending. Warning: crackhead humor.

Content: gender neutral reader, yandere behavior, brief NSFW, time machine to Wattpad glory days

[First story] [More parodies original works]

Case 1: Third contender

Very few people know about your stepmother. You’d kept it a secret, even from the tentacle monster, who was understandably confused about your boyfriend’s nervousness upon hearing your idea of a family visit.

“Try not to kill each other, please.” You say with pleading eyes.

“I’m more worried about you, (Y/N). Will you be alright?”

You swallow dryly. The evil hag had summoned you earlier this week, and you dare not oppose her. A tear threatens to form in the corner of your eye, so you turn around with a dismissive wave. You’ll be fine.

“I see you already have a suitcase”, the older woman remarks, puffing on her cigarette. “Good. You’ll be leaving today.”

“What? I just got home!” You argue in confusion.

“This isn’t your home anymore. Times are difficult, you see. We’re low on funds.” She ponders her words, then continues. “We’ve sold you to a famous K-pop idol group.”

You can only gawk in shock. Almost simultaneously, you feel a tap on your shoulder and hesitantly look back.

“You must be (Y/N)! Wow, you’re even cuter in person. Those photos I received of you barely do you justice.”

A tall, handsome man with a beaming smile stands behind you. He flashes you a little heart gesture with his index and thumb, and winks.

Is this the power of idol charisma? You can feel the faintest tug at your heart, deep red blush heating up your cheeks.

“I couldn’t possibly…I’m already in a…in a relationship!”

“You’ll be much happier with me. I can offer you the world.”

What a ridiculous situation. You stumble on your words, partly afraid, partly curious about the potential life of luxury as the beloved partner of a famous idol. Can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. You shake your head aggressively. No! You have two people (well, one monster) waiting for you at home. You need to get out of here, but how?

Just as you evaluate escape routes, the door bursts open and you gasp at the sight: your gamer boyfriend, followed by the tentacled creature.

“How did you bypass my security?!” The idol shouts in disbelief. “I have the best engineers in the world working for me!”

The gamer boyfriend smirks defiantly.

“Heh. Wasn’t too hard to hack into your systems, all I needed was my PS5 controller. As for the physical obstacles…” he says, turning to the ancient beast. “You might want to call a cleaning crew for what’s left of your guards.”

You run towards them, and the young man gently guides you behind him.

“Since when do you two get along?” You ask with the sarcasm of a witty Marvel character.

“Let’s just say we figured out a common goal.”

The goal of keeping other people away from you. Any kind of pride he or the monster might've held has been swiftly discarded for this greater purpose. After all, two heads are better than one. Or whatever encephalic organ the creature possesses.

The cherry blossoms sway in the wind, scattering the frail petals across the riverbank.

"It's too much!" you whine, your hot lips brushing against the overgrown grass of the hill, privacy filled to the brim with appendages. "W-what if someone passes by?"

You can't even tilt your head back to look at your aggressors; the weight of the attempted kidnapping was too great for the pair to bear, and thus they were overwhelmed by the urge to reclaim you on the spot. Right there, in the fields, on the way back home.

"I couldn't...care less about that, (Y/N)", the gamer boyfriend manages to blurt out between exhausted, husky growls. His knuckles white from gripping imaginary sheets.

“You belong to us.”

(No slick folds were harmed in the process)

Case 2: Picture frame

The screech slowly dissipates, and the room is quiet again.

Finally. The gamer boyfriend gazes at his masterpiece, a satisfied smile on his face. Now that he's gotten rid of his rival, he can have you all for himself.

“I hope you enjoy the flatness. I didn’t.”

The fight might've lasted longer, had the beast not committed the ultimately fatal mistake of underestimating him. It realized much too late it wasn't dealing with the same human who disappeared months ago. That one was weak and easy to remove.

"Please, what are you-...What are you doing with my body?"

"Relax. I'm just...borrowing it. Permanently, maybe."

Oh, how long he waited for that moment, that instant in which he was guaranteed freedom from the 2D realm. How delicious it was to snatch the escape from the boyfriend who worked so hard for it. All those hours spent romancing the characters, repeating the same dialogue lines again, and again, until the love meter blinked in achievement. And then he stole it, just like that, with a snap of the fingers.

Two things immediately struck him once he made his way out:

First, the third dimension. He'd never experienced such depth before, and all the angles and perspectives sickened him terribly. He spent days bedridden and nauseous. Equally baffling was the fact that conversations were always spontaneous, random, one-of-a-kind and without any subtitles or dialogue box. He tried in vain to reset his response to you, or to replay something you told him. Thankfully, his secret was of such absurdity, that you couldn’t even begin to imagine its possibility. You took his suspicious gaffes with an amused chuckle, calling him a silly goose.

Second, you. He had no idea who you were, but upon laying his eyes on you, a wave of warmth and affection flooded his innards. Were you someone important for the boyfriend? Either way, whatever leftover feeling was left inside the vessel swiftly turned into obsession. You took such great care of him. Guided him through this new world with unconditional kindness. Whatever the boyfriend was to you before, he deserved it more. He was certain of it.

Only one obstacle stood in his way, and he just took care of it.

The entry door unlocks, and you walk in, unsure.

“It’s been days. It always lived here, why would it vanish now?” you sob, shaken by the sudden disappearance of the ancient creature.

“Oh, Darling. Come here”, the gamer boyfriend coos sweetly. “You have me now, don’t you? Am I not enough for you?”

“Of course you are, it’s just…”

You stop in your tracks.

“When did you get this?”

“Today. Do you like it?”

“It’s…nice.”

You stare at the new picture hung in the living room. The ornate frame contours what seems to be an oil painting of a sea monster, tentacles preying out of the water.

It almost looks like it wants to crawl out of the canvas.

“Maybe it just got tired of you.” The boyfriend whistles, approaching you. “But I’ll tell you a secret. I’ll never, ever abandon you.”

“I know, (B/N).” you throw yourself into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Who? Ah, right.”

Case 3: Hidden Ending

You sniff and wipe your tears again, filling your satchel with bread. At the very least, it’s good bread. You made the sourdough starter yourself, in the kitchen you renovated with your own hands.

Not anymore.

You button up your patchy peasant robe, glancing back at the couple one final time. Your gamer boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, is following your movement with melancholic eyes. The tentacle creature is holding him affectionately, its tendrils of darkness wrapped around his small shoulders. The same appendages that lewdly traced your body.

You have been cucked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I…We never meant to hurt you. It’s just…we love each other.” He sheepishly lifts his hand, revealing a ring glowing with ancient, cursed energy of cosmic, long-forgotten springs. “We’re thinking of a tropical honeymoon.”

Your underbaked cinnamon orbs glisten with fresh tears, as thin streams caress your cheeks. No matter. You’ll find a new apartment. You’ll start again. You finish tying the bread satchel around the stick, and throw it over your shoulder.

“I wish you happiness”, you sigh, exiting the house.

[diejager]

My favourite type of people is those mfks that never give up and whenever they're in a bad situation they just end up going apeshit crazy. Now imagine reader, someone who actively fights against the government, versus Corrupt 141

Cw: DARKFIC, CORRUPT!141, corruption, abuse of power, mentioned death/murder, kidnapping, tell me if I missed any.

You can’t remember the time where powerful people weren’t corrupt, tempted by greed and self-empowerment, tempted by knowledge and influence. You can’t remember the time where all your heartfelt emotions, soft touches and deep connections meant something when it was all a ruse, hidden under embellished words and beautiful promises that worked wonders to silence you suspicion. Their smiles and tender affection drowned out every dark gleam in their eyes, covering the miasma that followed them everywhere they went, like a shadow of one’s sin. You wondered how naive you were. So willing to comply to be praised and rewarded with a soft pat on the head by your older teammates —ones you thought you could trust, ones you once thought were righteous and loving.

You were blinded by your optimism, your beliefs and their reputation. After all, who would believe that the famous Task Force 141 would be corrupt? Famously known for thwarting murders, terrorist and crime lords from accomplishing their goals, for saving countless lives from mass murder or potential death, and for being so wildly loved and sought after. They were a rare commodity to a low ranking soldier like you, but you’d somehow garnered their attention and interest, brought into their ranks believing that you’d be of use in their conquest to protect the world.

But you should have known better. The subtle glances back and forth, the purposeful wording and the hushed conversation in secrets. There was a plague of secrecy, hidden right under your nose until you caught them in a mumbled conversation, whispered words about taking away a man’s family and using it as leverage, only for you to watch them kill the man’s sons and daughters under the pretence of them being terrorists. You’d been so enraged that you hadn’t thought up a plan before you confronted Price about it.

“But they were innocent!”

“It was a means to an end,” he hadn’t reacted to your screech, neither the hateful glare you’d sent his way nor your erratic hand movement, “To drive our point.”

You scowled and stepped towards him, your name falling from his lips as a warning. He reminded you where you were standing, in his office, surrounded by the three other men and on your own. Laswell wouldn’t help you, she was the one who fed them information and helped plan these clandestine Ops. General Shepherd wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of you, he was the one who cleared them, who sent you on these Ops, and he would stop at nothing to keep his money and reputation. 

“What point, Price?” You scoffed, huffing at the mounting tension, the growing apprehension you felt when the others closed in on you, “That you’d do anything for power?”

He dared sigh at you, as if you were a misbehaving child he was exhausted by:

“No, but you wouldn’t understand, would you?”

His eyes filled with disappointment, the sudden frown that darkened his face when he bobbed his head, lips pulled in what seemed to be regret. You weren’t able to get another word, your world turning black in frightful struggle and looming danger.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

The Traveler captures the essence of Destiny’s humanistic and existential message with touching inspiration.

I’m coming out to say that the Traveler is my favorite character in Destiny by FAR and has been for years. I promise I’ll make a full thought dump on Cayde’s decision, but I just want to quickly talk about the absolute beauty of the narrative surrounding the Traveler that I have cried numerous rivers over. The Traveler’s philosophy and essence has touched my spirit so intimately, I cannot thank Destiny enough for blessing us with that beautiful white orb.

The Traveler is the most endearing thing ever to be conceived of to me because the idea of a creator who believes it should serve its creations in the best way it knows how is so refreshing. We as humans are so used to stories to about gods who we must respect because they contributed to the universe we live in; gods who believe they have jurisdiction over all and expect us to follow their word for they are wiser than any mortal. Free will is a heavy burden to bear and, as a result of humans wishing to alleviate the anxiety that comes with the knowledge that you must be responsible for all your directionless choices and the potential pain that comes with them, we create stories about deities who understand the things we don’t and will guide us in a universe that provides no instructions on how to live properly.

The Traveler is so respectable and inspiring because though it can bend the laws of physics with its paracasual abilities and was responsible for the birth of the universe, it doesn’t view itself as any higher than the life forms it fostered. Its devotion to free will and the love it has for all is heart throbbing, especially when sticking to its ideology is detrimental to its safety and well being. It’s so hopeful and believes in the good of sentient life, even if shown how awful beings can be. It has wishes and beliefs, but it will never impose them on anyone because it believes the universe is ours rather than the universe being entitled to it.

The Traveler could have been god and gave that up so we could have complexity and free will; so that we wouldn’t have a destiny. It is so mindful of people’s inclination to look beyond themselves for purpose in order to make their suffering more sensible and it chooses to not speak so that we may never hinder our ability to define our lives to be what we truly desire it to be. That choice, the choice to not be god because you believe so deeply in people’s self efficacy that you don’t see a god to be necessary, is one I hold dear to me.

Destiny is not a game about gods, it’s about powerful people who either realize that their powers do not mean they can enforce their will on others, leading them to enjoy the complex experience of being a living being, or become pseudo gods, meeting their end to godslayers who refuse to let anyone determine their fate. The Traveler is powerful and loving for it could have chosen servitude from all , but it chose to be of service instead, even if it would get hatred in return from those who did not understand the power it was granting them. It’s love is unconditional and it would suffer untold eons for anyone, even if the affection wasn’t returned.

Destiny asks the question “What do you do when you can’t force the universe to care about you?”

What do you do when the logic is sharp, the Winnower cuts away at the excess of reality, and you cry out prayers to get no response in turn?

It answers it with “Who cares if the universe thinks we matter or not, we decide if we matter and we can care for each other when the Winnower refuses to”.

I’ll forever thank the Traveler for allowing us to not only find that answer, but experience it with mouthfuls of the sweetness freedom bleeds when you breach the deterring sight of possibility.

Traveler, I love you more than you could understand and when I think there is no hope in my life, I think of you standing strong in the sky after eons of fear and torment and I get the courage to stand strong against the the tides of causality.

The universe may be unmoved by whether we suffer or not, but there will always be beings who will help us understand that this isn’t a problem to be solved, but a truth to embrace and free ourselves with.

Beings like the Traveler, who never understood why we looked up at it when we could have looked down at our own hands. We may want god, but what we really need is ourselves and each other. This is something we will struggle against for a long time, but the Traveler knows we will get there eventually.

It has patience and hope beyond infinity, traits I will forever think of when humanity stumbles over existential questions time and time again.

[dailymanners]

If you're like me, you may have had the feeling that since lockdown people have been ruder, more aggressive, and lacking in compassion. The bad news is, you might be right. Some studies and data coming out show that people have gotten ruder and more aggressive since lockdown (x)(x)(x). And the thing is, if even a few people have gotten ruder and more aggressive over the past few years, that's unfortunately spreading. Rudeness and aggression are contagious, if someone feels stressed and upset and like the world is against them because of constant cruelty and apathy from others, they may be likely to adapt the same attitude and spread this attitude even more.

However, there's good news too! Kindness, courtesy, and compassion are also contagious! Acts of kindness and compassion uplift others and inspire them to do the same. You have the power to start a ripple affect with acts of kindness, compassion, and just good manners. You have the power to put the breaks on or even reverse this trend in aggression and hostility that's popped up the past few years.

I made this blog because I'm tired of the constant hostility I've witnessed in public over the past few years. I think we have the power to do better, if we're only reminded.

Now you may be wondering, why do good manners even matter? Aren't they just a bunch of dumb rules made up by old dead people? Well, maybe some manners like "no hats indoors" or "no elbows on the table" are arbitrary and honestly it's harmless not to follow those, but that's why I won't be focusing on good manners that have no clear purpose behind them in this blog. In this blog, I'm going to focus on manners that matter.

By manners that matter I mean, manners that have a clear and definable purpose of showing compassion and empathy to other people. Your words and actions have consequences in how they affect the people around you, manners make sure that they affect others in a good way. Manners are the true social lubricant that makes sharing both private and public spaces with other people better for everyone. Going to work, going to restaurants and shops, and using any public space like roads, sidewalks, and parks is going to be better for everyone if we're all being considerate and compassionate to those around us. And this matters because, just like I said earlier kindness is just as contagious as cruelty, so when you're kind and polite to others it will circle back around to you eventually either way.

This is also why I'll be posting an explanation for every manner I post. I myself an neurodivergent so I understand the importance of needing an explanation behind manners. And even if you're not neurodivergent I understand why you wouldn't want to just blindly follow an old social rule without being given a good explanation. This is why I'll always explain why it's polite to do x. Why it's beneficial to you and/or others.

And always remember for every manner I post, I am not forcing you to do any of these. If you are unable to do any given manner I post for any reason, or you just don't want to, you are free to ignore it and simply carry on with your life. Of course if you're a wheelchair user it's going to be harder to open doors for others or if you're non-verbal it's not going to be possible to say excuse me whenever you accidentally bump into someone. Consider this my disclaimer that any of these that you are unable to do due to a disability you are not obligated to do.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N ��� So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326  @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”  

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

[conditioned-to-obey]

hi! idk if this is your area of expertise or interest

but i’m a new sub and i’m absolutely terrified of disobeying like to the point where i consider crossing my boundaries

what should i do?

- 🎀

Practice saying no. Practice speaking your mind. If you have someone you can sit down with and have them purposely ask you questions you want to say no to –you can write down some questions you have a hard time saying no to, for more control and precision over this– and practice telling them no calmly but firmly. Even if your voice shakes, say it. Being able to advocate for yourself effectively is a learned skill. Don't judge yourself too harshly if it's not easy at first.

However, someone who truly cares about you will hear your 'no' or 'maybe' the first time. As a sub, practice saying your safeword aloud. Use it and use it. It's not a bad word. Perhaps create a safeword for when you need a full complete stop and have a different safeword that means slow down or pause. Those words are two ways streets to not only your safety but your partners.

You have more power than you think, doll. Remember that. You can say no, rescind consent or change your mind at any time and everything will be alright.

In my opinion I'd rather be told no then be told yes when your heart isn't in it and hurt someone deeply without meaning to. Or even break, in more extreme cases, the law and your consent.

Have discussions of limits and boundaries before you're actively in a scene or in the bedroom. Where you're not in the middle of things when something that makes you uncomfortable comes up. But understandably people surprise us. Previously I have had to deploy the ol tried and true "let's not introduce new kink, activities or aspects of play in the middle of sex or before we've discussed them. Understood?" And get that affirmative they understand. Can be a little awkward of a pause but it works.

Best of luck to you.

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

hey crazy question, since you said there is no evil what would you call hitler evil? trump? mussolini? genghis khan? jeffrey dahmer? jeffrey epstein? KKK members? IDF? and if they're evil then i guess you're telling me child rapists are the only ones that shouldn't be called evil? why is that?

I'm gonna ignore your bad faith misreading of my ideas and your attempt to insinuate I am a child abuser and answer your first question for other ppls sake, cuz I think it is a reasonable thing ppl might be grappling with.

In a word, no.

In a few more words, I think the question fails to properly interrogate what I mean when I refer to evil. 'Evil' is a component of a moral framework, and I feel that moral frameworks are by and large shallow and not very useful in furthering for understandings of the world around us, or very conducive to creating material change, from an individual scale to a societal scale.

The central idea I put forward in that post is that it is not some grand moral badness that enables violence and abuse, but rather systems of power. All of your examples speak to this. You mention the wealthy, political leaders, a state backed by a global superpower, and a group that was comprised of people with systemic power over their victims.

Viewing them merely as "evil" is frankly uncurious and in some ways, cyclical and thought terminating. It begs the question: "they're bad because they're bad because they're bad."

We have NO disagreement in the fact that what those people do or did have produced violence and harm, many on a scale which is difficult to fully comprehend the magnitude of. It is equally difficult to understand even how one could act with such cruelty towards fellow human beings. But just because it is difficult to understand does not mean it is impossible. They didn't do those things because they were born with some kind of evil gene or soul.

They, like you and I, were created by the context of the world around them. If Adolf Hitler died as a child, would Germany have been rid of its antisemitism or have lost its imperial ambitions? Would war have been averted? Certainly not. There were specific, relatively measurable conditions which allowed fascism to flower. If not him, someone else would have helmed that movement.

If Adolf Hitler were born in another place and time, he would not be Adolf Hitler in any meaningful sense. A person is more or less a sum of their environment. People cannot exist outside the context that they do in fact exist in.

And so to then declare someone as 'evil' amounts to saying just about nothing. It's zero sum. If people do harm simply because they are evil, then what can be done? Create a list of them and then systematically exterminate them?

Many people have twisted my words and claimed that what I am saying is that we should expose our bellies and allow bigots to gut us, or that I equivocate violence against oppressors and violence against the oppressed. This is categorically untrue. When violence is brought against you, violent response can be prudent.

But what happens after the relations of power have been altered? When the abuser or oppressor no longer has the power to harm you? Is there reason to harm them besides to punish or sate a desire for revenge? If they no longer have the means to do 'evil,' then what purpose does violence against them serve besides for the sake of our own bloodlust?

You will not see me shed a tear for Israeli settlers killed by opposition forces, or for abusers killed by a victim defending themself because those relations of power are still in place. Settlers can leave, soldiers can dodge the draft, and abusers can stop abusing.

But if they settle, kill, and abuse because they are 'evil,' then what choice did they have to begin with? And what can be done to stop colonialism, state violence, and abuse in the future? Are evil people just going to stop being born?

The framework of evil adds nothing, gives no solutions, and hinders progress by giving us amnesty for not looking at our own relationship to power structures. But a materialist, analytical framework provides us tools to deconstruct those structures and hopefully move beyond them.

[sossolei]

how i shifted realities accidentally on purpose .☘︎ ܁˖

“What does this even mean?” You may be asking yourself. Well, buckle the hell up because I’m still understanding it myself.

If you’ve never seen me before my introduction post is pinned, there I give an insight on myself and a little bit of my spiritual journey. In it I mentioned that the first time I shifted was random but completely purpose at the same time. Here I will explain how:

When I was around 17 going on 18, I came across a TikTok about a woman talking about this very specific manifesting method that completely altered her life in such a small way she didn’t realize for 6 years. To sum it up, she did this manifestion ritual for something I don’t remember and afterwards thought nothing of it, but then 6 years later she was catching up with an old friend and in their conversations she had mentioned a trip they went on together overseas 2 years prior. Her old friend had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. The woman tried to jog their memory but the friend said the two of them hadn’t seen each other in 6 years, so OP asked her mother if she remembered the two of them taking a trip and her mother said the same thing as the friend. Then OP remembered the manifesting ritual she did and realized that everything people had been saying about it was true and it had altered such a small thing in her life that she didn’t even realize until now.

So, me being 17 and absolutely dyinggg to go shift realities, I read through a couple comments, watched other videos and did a quick Reddit search and they all pretty much said the same thing about how powerful the ritual is, but to be careful because it’ll alter things in your reality.

I did not give a damn about any of those warnings.

Not the best thing to do in hindsight but 🥸oh well.

So I did the manifestion ritual ( im gonna explain it later because I genuinely cannot remember the name of it but I sort of remember what I did so if anyone knows what I’m talking ab, pls enlighten me ) and afterwards I didn’t rlly think about it. I should also mention I was specific with what I wrote down because I ( thought ) know how the universe acts when you don’t spell everything out word for word lmao.

Now this is where you have to hold my hand cause this is going to sound so stupid right now but trust me it matters:

My whole life I’ve had a mole on my LEFT hand middle finger. I love her. I show it off to anyone I get the chance to show it off to. Why? I don’t know, I’ve genuinely just always shown people this mole just because I like it.

The summer of the end of high school, going onto college, I had a lil fling with a guy and again, I showed him the mole on my left hand middle finger. I vividly remember doing this because I do it to everyone.

Then in college around November - December, I get my first ever boyfriend ( not the same guy ). One day we’re hanging out and we’re talking about moles (?) and I instinctively hold out my RIGHT hand to show him the mole on middle finger and…there it is. On my right middle finger. I kid you not, in that exact moment I literally said, “huh, I thought this was on my left hand.” I look at my left hand and there’s no mole??? I brushed that off but when I went back to my dorm, I legit stared at my hands in confusion at how the fuck my mole switched sides.

MIND YOU it’s the exact same mole. Like it looks the exact same, there’s nothing different about the color or shape, it’s just…on the opposite hand???

But since I had absolutely no explanation for it, I just moved on 🤷🏽‍♀️

Life went on, both of my sisters got pregnant early in the year so we were prepping all things baby related whenever I came back to visit. During one of these breaks, my sister is showing me everything she got from her baby shower and one of those things is a bottle warmer. I told her I think a bottle warmer is kinda stupid when you can just use the microwave, especially with how expensive bottle warmers are. And she said to me “yeah why you do you think I’m not buying it with my own money?” You got that? Okay.

The relationship went on as well, and outwardly, the guy was everything I thought I wanted. Nothing against him but he was like the embodiment of everything I read on wattpad growing up and thought was sooo cute. Ex; He was mean to everybody but me, I thought this was so fun and dandy. Anyways, I gradually started to lose interest in astrology, tarot, shifting, manifesting, literally EVERYTHING. So much so to the point where I started to feel crazy because I felt like I was trying to fit into a mold for this guy that isn’t who I am??

But low and behold, THE DAY AFTER we break up, I get the strongest urge to do tarot. Over time I started to find myself in everything I loved and still love to this day.

HERE IS WHERE WE GET TO THE SHIFTING PART

During the summer of 2024, I’m brushing my teeth in my house when I randomly just look down at my left hand middle finger….and there’s no mole. I look at my right hand and what would you know, THE MOLE IS BACK.

I genuinely gasped in the moment and looked at both of my hands side by side to make sure I was seeing everything right. This sent me down a SPIRAL, I legit replayed every interaction I ever had trying to decipher whether or not I was crazy because okay, mole switching sides ONE time is something I can ignore, BUT TWICE??? You must thing I’m stupid.

Then I remember the manifestion ritual that I did soooo fucking long ago by that point. I remember all the stories people had about how small things changed in their reality and all that.

So basically…I had just shifted realities FOR MONTHS, and I did not realize.

But it wasn’t just the mole. Because once I remembered the ritual I did, I tried to look around my daily life and see if anything else had changed and I even asked the universe to show me what changed.

Guys.

I bring my sister a package she got and watch her unpack it…why does she pull out a bottle warmer🧍🏽‍♀️

I said, “girl what do you need two bottle warmers for?”

She said, “what do you mean two?”

I said, “didn’t somebody get you a bottle warmer from your baby registry?”

She says, “no girl, I bought this with my own money and it was expensive as hell, I wish somebody got this for me.”

Oh my god when I tell you, you could have knocked me over with a damn BREATH. I was truly…gagged. Like there’s no other word for it. Bewildered? I don’t even know.

I didn’t even say anything after that cause I just like wow, what is life? LMFAOOO

Now I know you may be wondering why the manifestion ritual didn’t work perfectly if I had specified what I wanted, which was “I want to shift to my desired reality” and I think it’s because before I did the ritual, I was debated whether or not I wanted to shift realities or manifest a SP ( specific person ) and I ultimately landed on reality shifting BUT CLEARLY, the universe had to double it.

Even to this day I’m still processing the shift because when people say reality shifting feels like your regular every day life…I AM PROOF THAT THAT IS TRUE. It didn’t even register that I was in an alternate reality because everything was almost perfect, genuinely, I had a great boyfriend, my friends were thriving, my family was even prospering ( my grades weren’t but let’s not talk about that ) like ??

Now that I’m writing this, I feel like I sound like the lamp starts looking weird story but I swear on everything I have ever loved and ever will love, this is 1000% true and something I’m still reeling from.

If you have any questions I’d be glad to answer but moving on!

TLDR; I have a mole on my left middle finger. I did a powerful manifestion ritual to shift to my desired reality when I was like 17. I got a boyfriend for the first time in college, he was everything I thought I wanted. I showed him my finger mole except it was on my right hand this time and I even said out loud how I thought it was on my left hand. Life goes on, we break up, one day I’m brushing my teeth and look at my left hand but there’s nothing there. I look at my right and BOOM there it is back where it was originally. There is more context pls just read the whole thing lmao.

ABOUT THE RITUAL: okay I don’t remember EXACTLY what I did so do NOT use this as a tutorial, I beg! Basically I had two or three cups of water (?), on a piece of paper I wrote down what I wanted aka “I will shift to my desired reality”, I think I switched the cups to be on top of the paper ? I don’t know y’all, and then I drank the water and kept both things beside me on my nightstand. If anyone knows the name of this manifesting technique, pleasseeee let me know. I’ve genuinely been too scared to look it up myself but ahh I guess it’s time to face it.

Thank you for reading, shifting is so incredibly real, manifesting is so incredibly real and your reality is whatever you want it to be, ritual or not. Thank you! <33