#Mightiest Protector

[cloaksandcapes]

Yesterday we showed you Bork 2.0, and now we have the final form. Bork 3.0, Mightiest Protector. One day we might combine them all into a Vestige-like Artifact!

Bork 3.0 Mightiest Protector

Wondrous Item, legendary

“A perfected and larger version of Bork, the Mighty Protector. This version has been fully enchanted with magical runes, and equipped with all manner of healing aid to make sure that not a single friend falls on the battlefield.”

This magic construct serves as a familiar and acts independently of you, but always obeys your commands. In combat, it rolls its own initiative and acts on its own turn. Bork can't attack, but can take other actions as normal.

Bork has an AC 17, 50 hit points and a movement speed of 30. It has resistance to all damage, and is immune to poison and psychic damage. If reduced to 0 hit points, Bork ceases to function but will repair itself back to perfect working condition after a long rest. If reduced to 0 hit points it must be retrieved.

Bork cannot be surprised, gains a +5 bonus to initiative and has advantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks.

Bork can cast the alarm, dispel magic and faerie fire spells once per day without requiring material components. Once each of these spells has been cast Bork must finish a long rest before casting them again.

Healing Salve. Bork can use a bonus action to administer a healing potion to a creature with 0 hit points. That creature regains 2d4+2 hit points. Bork can use this property so long as there is a healing potion in its keg. Its keg can hold up to three healing potions. It takes 1 minute to fill the keg with healing potions.

Helpful Hound. If Bork lays next to a creature making saving throws, they make the saving throws with advantage. For as long as Bork is next to them, failed death saves do not count against them. If Bork is by their side for at least 1 minute, the creature stabilizes.

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[charulein]

this is exactly what I mean when I say that Stubborn and Nidhogg are super similar.... the death of Ratatoskr, the Banquet.... ough

[hurtspideyparker]

Thinking about restless spirit Tony Stark who just can't move on to the after life.

The first thing he does once he realizes he's an apparition is check on Pepper and Morgan. True to their word, they're okay. He watches them for a bit but feels this deep unrest pulling him away from the quaint home he yearns for.

There's a deep wrongness within him, some unfinished business that draws him back to New York.

He fears for a moment that it's Peter- but no, it can't be him. He'll be in Massachusetts right now, attending MIT as a freshman. There isn't a doubt in Tony's mind that his little genius is already making his mark.

Still, he follows the pull of his spirit to some dingy Queens' apartment he's never been to before.

It's deep in the night yet the apartment is empty. He looks around a bit, his body phasing through anything he attempts to touch.

It's small and dirty. There's old coffee cups on the desk, alongside a couple GED manuals. Great, the universe thinks he has unfinished business with some broke high school dropout.

He's pondering how he must have screwed up this kid's life; was it the Avengers, Stark Industries? Maybe his old playboy lifestyle is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

His contemplation is cut short by the sound of the window cracking open.

It strikes Tony for a moment that maybe he's stuck on Earth to be a guardian angel, Iron Man living on as some invisible protector against whatever creep is sneaking into people's windows. It doesn't make much sense considering the whole non-corporeal thing, but he still stiffens like he's ready for a fight.

He sees a man- no, a thing? A creature maybe, or an alien. Even in death Tony can't escape being one of Earth's mightiest heroes.

The creature is shrouded in darkness, something slick and bald crawling inside the room with terrifying grace and silence. It shuts the window with a soft kssssh as the seal is formed.

And then it pulls off its mask.

There, with the click of a table lamp, glows the face of Peter Parker.

He's definitely older now; sturdier shoulders, a rugged set of his jaw, hair tamed to something semi-professional. Still present, though, are those gentle brown eyes.

Nothing makes sense right now. Why is his kid here, in this apartment? Surely May wouldn't allow this. How many tenant laws does this place break? Where are his little sidekick friends? And on what planet would Peter Parker ever need a GED?

Tony's getting angry now, watching Peter move around the tiny space. He changes out of his costume and into pajamas. That spider suit isn't Tony's suit, it looks like cheap craft store fabric.

The kid opens a small freezer and pulls out the singular bag of peas that reside in there, pressing it against his ribs while he goes to pop some bread into a toaster.

Tony takes note of every glimpse he gains into Peter's life. Empty cabinets when he reaches for a jar of peanut butter. A fridge housing nothing but condiments and energy drinks when he goes to grab jam. A drawer with two spoons, no forks, and a paring knife which he pulls out and sticks into the strawberry jam jar just as the toast pops.

This is all so wrong.

Tony's outrage is coming to a rolling boil. Peter deserves the world- he was gonna give him the world. He couldn't wait to send Peter to MIT and show him off as his protégé. Tony was gonna fund his projects, tease him about pretty girls, maybe even see him step back from Spider-Man and act like a normal college kid. He wanted to see him flourish and grow up. It was all he could think about when Peter turned to dust between his fingers; he should be goofing off with his friends at a mathletes meeting, or building Legos, not fighting an intergalactic war.

Tony couldn't even conceive how much went wrong to end up here.

Alone. Broke. No school. He didn't even have his Stark suit to protect him. Everything that made him him has been stripped, leaving him in this shallow box with scuffed paint and hollow cabinets.

Tony can feel the violent rage burn deep in his spirit as he thinks about it.

This is why he's here. He can't let his boy live like this, wasting his potential to be some villain's punching bag. Where is everyone? Does no one care enough to stop this? The fury that builds in Tony is dangerous, wondering why a dead man is the only one who cares about the teen's life right now.

Without thinking Tony's hand reaches for the GED textbook, a mocking piece of work that laughs in his face, and throws it at the stupid little kitchenette that's mere feet from the bed.

It sails across the room with surprising speed before it's met with a thunk against Peter's palm, hand reaching out to catch it from the air before it collided with the toaster.

Oh.

Peter sets the book down and immediately picks up his web shooters, eyes darting furiously to every corner of the tiny apartment.

"Who's there?"

Tony steps a little closer but Peter's eyes just look right past him.

"C'mon Pete, c'mon. I'm here, I'm right here."

Tony looks for something else to grab. He swats at a hopefully empty coffee cup on the wooden desk, but his hand just passes right through it.

"Shit," the hope Tony felt waivers slightly and he tries again.

Nothing.

Peter is searching his apartment now, making sure the window is secure and feeling around every crevice, bookshelves, under the bed, in the top corners of the room. Searching for something nefarious, tech maybe.

Tony hits the cup, again and again, frustration building up and up and up till-

The cup flies across the room, Tony and Peter's eyes track its movements as it bounces against the ground and rolls to a stop.

"Shit," Peter breathes out.

Tony walks up to Peter now, standing before him.

"Figure it out. Think kid, you've met aliens, gods, magicians, surely ghosts aren't too far fetched."

Peter closes his eyes. His posture straightens, Tony watches him take a deep breath in as the hairs on his bare arms stand on end.

Peter's eyes blink open, and they're looking directly at Tony.

Tony smirks, "that's it."

Peter turns around and picks the cup off the ground, running to his desk with it and ripping a piece of lined paper out of a notebook and scribbling furiously on it.

Tony walks over as Peter places the cup in the center of the paper.

On the left is the word YES in bold print, NO on the right.

"Okay, okay okay. So, move the cup if, if you wanna talk. Um, is there someone in the room right now?"

Tony reaches for the cup, an intense glare as his fingertips graze it gently. It shifts minutely towards the YES.

"Shit! Shit. Sorry, whew. Okay. Are you friendly?"

Tony moves it to YES again.

"Are you a, um. Person? Like not an alien?"

YES.

"Are you wearing tech, invisibility suit or your molecules are uncalibrated or maybe it's a portal thing like, multiverse shit is happening again, a mirror universe! Oh, maybe a..."

Tony let's a frustrated sign. The kid is too practical, logical. He needs to think like a non-genius.

"... could be. Or, or maybe you're just a ghost-"

Tony perks up and immediately swats the cup, causing it to fly off the desk towards the YES.

"Oh. Oh that's... kinda normal. Or maybe really weird? I mean... I certainly have some ghosts in my past."

Peter picks the cup up and puts it back on the desk.

"Do I know you?"

YES.

"You said you were friendly, and I'm not getting any danger tingles from you. I'm gonna start with people I know are dead, cuz I just really hope you're not a... new ghost. Um. M-May?"

The boy's voice cracks on the word and Tony freezes. May is dead? Tony starts to fear that things are a lot more wrong than he previously thought.

Peter's breath catches and Tony realizes he's waiting, dying for an answer, and quickly pokes the cup towards NO.

Peter's shoulders sag.

"Uncle Ben?"

NO.

"T- Mr. Stark?"

Tony grins, "now we're getting somewhere!"

YES.

Tony is going to have his work cut out for him, but being here with Peter just feels right.

Peter breaks out into a matching smile.

"Wow, okay. I think I'm gonna need more paper," he says as the boy gets to work making a more complex system than YES and NO.

Tony watches on proudly, reminiscing about all the great Peter was and all the great he still is, despite his situation. Whatever this is, they'll figure it out.

Together.

[pearlsinmyhair]

NO BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU WHY THIS HURTS ME.

lo’ak feels less than. neglected. misunderstood and unloved. he does not feel seen, which is the most important thing, the deepest form of connection, to the na’vi. he tries so hard to be what his father wants, what he sees neteyam get praised for being.

a warrior. a protector. a fighter.

and who’s the mightiest warrior around?

Toruk Makto. His dad.

so he goes around to the seasoned warriors and the elders of his clan, asking for stories of Toruk Makto, specifically how he dressed. and the morning before the raid, away from his family’s eyes, he paints on pigment.

he wears his fathers image with pride, flying straight into a battle like a warrior.

and he stands in front of his father, upset but understanding in some way. he’s apologetic, but he doesn’t regret his decoration.

that is, until Jake says

get that crap off your face.

because when jake looks his son in the face after the explosion, eyes unfocused and body trembling, he doesn’t see a warrior.

he sees a soldier of war, battered and bloody.

and his fourteen year old son should not be celebrating that.

he sees himself in the worst way possible. no elder tells the story of those that died in the War.

Trudy. Grace. Tsu’tey. Eytukan.

they sing the songs of their lives, sure. but their deaths are never the focus.

when jake sees his son, decorated as he was, he sees heroic ignorance. he sees a child playing war.

he sees crap.

and jake is so tired of war, so tired of fighting. but he misses the point of lo’ak’s efforts.

look at me, father. do you see me?

and jake, terrified and fraying at the edges after seeing his sons in the middle of an aerial attack, says

get that crap off your face.

[lilisette]

Late Night Introspection | Zayne/Reader

About: A drabble on Zayne's reasons for becoming a doctor. Was it for himself? Or was it.... for you?

Pairing: Zayne/Reader

Notes: Might be invalidated as the story goes on though haha... But I like the idea of Zayne deciding to be a doctor in order to protect you in ways you cannot.

“By helping her, Zayne… You help yourself.”

The words Grandma Josephine uttered on that fateful day still lingered in his mind, even hours after you’ve left the hospital. She made him promise to take care of you on her behalf, to be with you every step of the way as you lived your life. 

Like a parent giving their blessing to a potential spouse. 

Zayne ran his fingers through his tousled hair, mentally waving that stray thought away. Perhaps in a perfect world where tragedies such as these didn’t happen, she would’ve given him her blessing but… That was not the case now. And in a twisted way, if the disaster 14 years ago didn’t happen, he wouldn’t have met you.

14 years ago he made a decision, a decision that was made because of you. 

He still remembered the day when you proclaimed to everyone that you will become strong and become a hunter so you won’t have to rely on someone and be afraid when another disaster strikes, that you will be someone who would protect everyone around them. 

“I will be your protector one day! Just you guys watch!”

And in that moment, a thought appeared in the forefront of his mind–

“Then who protects the protector?”

He wasn’t the only one who had the same thought however. Caleb immediately interjected, snorting at your antics.

“Then who will protect you, dummy? What if you get injured?”

“I won’t! Because you two will have my back, right?”

“That’s not how it works–”

Indeed, that was not how the world worked. Even the mightiest hunter will fall, despite all the challenges they faced and overcame. And so when you turned to Zayne and asked him what he would be in the future, he simply said– 

“A doctor.” 

“Why?”

“Someone has to take care of you when you’re hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt!”

“Sure.”

So he did. The decision was made. He began his journey into the field of medicine and worked tirelessly to get here. Even though contact between you and him lessened over the years, he had never forgotten his decision, his promise to be by your side when you needed him the most.

As Zayne gained renown and respect within the field over the years, many research facilities and academic institutions had tried to lure him to have him work for them. He refused them all, however. He joined the field not for money, nor for fame and respect. 

But for you.

“You’re good at not giving into temptation.” You jokingly said then. He had no intentions from straying from his path, especially not when you became a hunter despite all the heart conditions you had. He had specifically chosen to study cardiology because he was aware of the problems you had since the disaster. And while there are many capable doctors in said field, he just couldn’t rest easy. 

The thought of you being transferred to someone else’s care made him apprehensive. Why should you rely on another’s care when he could do it instead? 

When he knows you and your heart better than the others ever will?

The sudden ‘ping!’ resounded throughout his office, bringing him out of the recess of his thoughts. He picked up his phone and the corners of his mouth lifted when he saw who it was, contacting him this late at night. 

“Sorry for calling so late earlier. I just needed to know the truth… I’m still reading through them.”

“Go to sleep, it’s late. The documents will still be there when you wake up.”

Just like he will when you wake up. 

He will always be here, as long as you need him.

[aemysbabyofficial]

Sweet Sixteen; Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

Daemon Targaryen has eyes. He can see things. He can count. The times he catches his daughter's stray gaze find that of his brother's second son are one too many.

Warnings: Daemon being observant; doubt; parental worries/anxiety

Note: This is my very first House of the Dragon work, so please read and accept it with a grain of salt. I'm working this to be part one of series involving different characters and my main girl, Saela Targaryen. If you wish for the fic to be longer or more detailed, PLEASE comment (or heart...) because I love to hear feedback. Heehee:)

Sixteen times.

Daemon was sure of himself. He knew how to count. Hells, he was in charge of the mightiest battalions of men there was. Of course he needed to be sure of himself and know how to count beyond his fingers. But he was a soldier, a warrior to the bone, who could not show emotion. He could not allow his enemies the smallest chance to see him break.

A pure sixteen just now.

His eyes flitted across the table. His tongue glistened over his teeth as he leaned his body back. The wooden and metal armrests melded the leather of his top to his skin. The heat his body radiated burned in the cool evening, but any release of heat was stopped by the stone walls around him. His eyes, gleaming in the candles flame, could shoot out fire if he wished. To be uncomfortable here was an insult. Daemon fought and slayed thousands of men on countless battlefields, and he wasn’t the slightest uncomfortable there. Why now here did he feel trapped under the Red Keep’s stone walls?

Between the start of the Driftmark hearings and the dreadful dinner he was forced to sit at, Daemon counted sixteen times he caught his brother's second son staring at his youngest daughter. Bile from breaking his fast earlier sat pretty in his throat.

How coincidental! Daemon could have laughed at the epiphany he received. His third child, his sweet Saela, had just passed her sixteenth nameday not long ago and from word her sworn protector shared with him, Ser Jorys swore the young lady was celebrated around the Keep in the Greens tight arms and packed feasts.

From where Saela sat at the opposite end of the table, across the vast wood and candles sat the lilac trance the One-Eyed Prince. Daemon's shrugged his shoulders when he glanced back at his daughter. Among the chatter and movement of servants, her round eyes found the one eye. The corner of her lip trembled into a hesitant smile. Even if she tried to break eye-contact and laugh with Baela or Lucerys, Saela's attention always travelled back to the prince. Aemond had not said a word to either of them that day yet felt it in his childish stupor to throw manners aside and gouge the young lady right in front of her father. If Rhaenyra wasn't bracing his thigh under the table, Daemon would have picked the boy's remaining eye with his fork.

"Please just be cordial. For your brother, please."

His wife had begged him before the dinner. Yes, Rhaenyra understood the adrenaline of emotions were high after blood was spilled in the throne room. But if she wanted her father to dine in peace with his entire family, she had to tame her husband's lashes of fire first.

"I have not seen her in months. How I act is out of the question when it comes to her."

Rhaenyra only blew out her woes in a sigh before pacing around their room. “If you cause a mess, what do you think will happen to her?” She could only say and do so much for Daemon to understand. But as a mother herself, she could not imagine loosing any of her children to their enemy.

All Daemon did was scoff an answer. Of course I'll be cordial, the expression translated. He was cordial when he was finally reunited with his youngest daughter. He was cordial when Baela and Rhaena sung their wishes and roared their stories to their baby sister in the Red Keep's halls. He was cordial when the Princess Helaena lingered in the background, waiting for a clear moment to pounce on his child, steal and hide her under Green tapestries and shadows.

"Father."

Saela couldn't hold back her smile in front of him. The corners of Daemon's lips trembled when they held each other's hands. Before he could say a word, Saela flung her arms around his neck and clung to him. The train of her gold dress looked magical when he spun her around. But even in the Green's clothes, Saela was still his fiery daughter. No matter dress she wore, the flames of the dragon roared in her eyes, burning through all the manners the queen could shove on his daughter. She was pure, confident, and graced the empathetic heart no one in their family had the strength to hold.

Not once had he forgotten his sweet daughter's face when they had to part for Dragonstone. When he held her for the first time in years, his brows creased. Her cheeks had slimmed down. The neckline of her dress was higher than usual, scooping from her shoulders and across her collarbones. The mix of silver and gold hair she loved to wear open was braided like that of his brother's wife.

"Saela." Daemon kissed the crown of her head. He held her to his chest as if she would disappear in a second. In these cold walls, she could vanish before his very eyes. "I hope they've treated you well."

If it wasn't for the sister-wife of the drunken excuse called Aegon, Saela would have travelled back with her family and been  reunited with her Grandsire she missed so much. Daemon loved that part of his daughter—the big heart she carried for everyone in their wretched family. Viserys’ nickname for her was an example of that. Hope of the House.

"But you know Helaena is different, father." Saela lamented the night before her family's departure. For the past days the lolly-minded Helaena had begged Saela to stay with her. "She is closer to me than Baela or Rhaena. And I like her, father. She is sweet, hilarious, and needs a friend. Would you want me to feel guilty for leaving her alone with her nagging overlo--I mean, with the Queen?"

O, Daemon hugged his Saela that night so hard. And though years have past the young lady has remained the same kind heart. Her eyes never casted doubt and her lips never told a lie. The woman she became would make her mother proud.

But something about her lilac stare, hooded by her curly eyelashes, and the smile tugging at the corner of her lips brushed Daemon the wrong way. And it all had to do with that wretched second-son. He was the real reason Saela remained in King's Landing; Daemon told himself. Viserys was too kind to hurt a poor child's heart. Aemond took his injury with a dramatic performance and begged his father for his cousin to stay trapped in the Red Keep. Added with Helaena's dalliances and urgent need for someone to watch her, Viserys probably gave in without second thought.

And now her eyes shine for the boy, not her father.

Her heart beats for another man. A man Daemon would never approve of.

"Father?"

Two voices melted into one snapped Daemon from his thoughts. When he looked up from the burning candle, Rhaena and Saela exchanged looks before glancing to their father.

"Do you want more wine, father?"

Daemon stiffly nodded before a servant refilled his cup. The drink was gone in a flash, coating the prince's already burned throat. The wine ceased to numb his mind and the clasp of Rhaenyra's nails in his thighs was more of a comfort than a reminder. Don't be rash.

How can a father stand by and watch his daughter fall into the pits of doom and not be rash?

The will to lunge his knife into the chest of his brother’s son was a dream Daemon would encounter nights upon nights. Aemond had fallen into the shadows the moment Daemon stepped foot into the keep. The boy hadn’t said a word to the prince and the prince hasn’t questioned where the boy was. It was like the moment they entered the Keep, both men knew of the dangerous game they were about to play—they danced to avoid each other while keeping their sights on the ultimate piece. Saela. The young lady had fallen into a game she never asked to play.

Daemon swore to save his daughter from doom and heartbreak. If he had to bare Dark Sister, Daemon would lay his life if it meant getting rid of the One-Eyed prince. Nothing in this world was to precious when compared to his daughter Saela, not even his own life. The world would have to bend its knee and shed its ocean-wide tears for mercy before Daemon would give her hand to any man--even if it included Aemond Targaryen himself.

[totally-percy-jackson]

Percy Jackson at your disposal

@wise-girltm - Annabeth Chase, MY GIRLFRIEND wise girl 💙💙💙💙💙💙

@goat-boi-underwood - Grover Underwood, my telepathic bro

@fire-boy-officialofficial - Leo Valdez, his a FIREBALL, my favorite third wheel, and my go to karaoke partner

@king-of-the-ghosts - Nico Di Angelo, ghost boi and master of gaslighting

@sunshine-and-socialanxiety Will Solace, dude shines brighter then my future

@miss-beauty-queen - Piper Mclean, siren of the Argo II and my girllll bro who knows what’s up

@jason-the-kabob - Jason Grace, did someone say bromance???

@gem-stone-queen - Hazel Levesque, sweetest bean on earth protect at all costs

@iguanaurwayoutofhandcuffs - Frank Zhang, half man half fury and protector of the sweetest bean

@rayna-dontcallmemerara - Reyna Ramirez-Arellano, definition of girl boss

@silenasblogies - Silena Beuregard, miss sunshine and rainbows but beware of her guard dog Clarisse

@offical-darkon-slayer - Clarisse La Rue, overly awesome at making you run, scream, and piss your pants

@i-can-see-stars-agian - Zoe Nightshade, the dam huntress

@not-so-dead-sister - Bianca Di Angelo, the bold, the brave, the great huntress

@fucking-alone-for-an-eternity - Calypso, the girl from that island

@kit-kit-flowers - Katie, my favorite flower girly

@bestdemigodarcherever - Kayla, the Katniss Everdeen of Apollo cabin

@yes-im-aphrodite - Aphrodite, gods get your nose out of my love life

@yes-im-hades - Hades, the man down stairs

@my-sister-and-the-moon - Artemis, she don’t need no man wait alexa play The Man by Taylor Swift

@amusing-little-things - Amphitrite Nereidia, my father’s wife and queen of the ocean 🌊

@by-the-decree-of-my-crown - Zeus, the mightiest ass hole him self stormy mcego🖕

[albrakia]

The Living Gods

Vivec, the warrior-poet god and Master of Morrowind, is perhaps the most popular of the Three. He also tends to be the most public, and the people love him. His visage appears both beautiful and bloody at the same time, and he has made violence into an art form. Vivec the warrior-poet has darker aspects associated with primitive, ruthless impulses, such as lust and murder. Almalexia, also known as Mother Morrowind, is the patron of healers and teachers. She is the Healing Mother, the source of compassion and sympathy, the protector of the poor and the weak. Almalexia embodies the best of Dunmeri culture and purpose. She exemplifies mercy, and her wisdom guides the Dark Elves in all their daily affairs. Sotha Sil, God of the World-Mechanism, is the least known and most hidden of the Tribunal gods. Sometimes referred to as the Mystery of Morrowind, he is a Magus and the patron of artificers and wizards. Perhaps the mightiest wizard in the land and certainly the wisest, he is considered to be the Light of Knowledge and the inspiration behind craft and sorcery.

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 13 : end of the dream

Wukong reveal the truth

TW : Depressive thoughts

He was supposed to be a pillar, the weapon wielded against the strong, made of the sturdiest stones, and filled with the mightiest of blood. He was a King, the protector of a land, of a tribe, the defender of the monkeys. He was a sage, the one that gained enlightenment, that stood equal to heaven, and some would even say above it. Sun Wukong wasn't supposed to be this frail, to flee like a coward the second his lies unraveled. To hide away, curled inside of a cave, veiled by the raging storm and the blooming thunder. 

But it didn't matter how many times he tried to lie to himself, Sun Wukong knew that under all his fancy monikers, all his empty glory, laid a bleeding heart, weak enough to shatter at the slightest of touch. He wished for his heart to be of gold, like many believed it was. For this pitiful, crying organ to be coated in liquid metal, so it could be still, and devoid of unnecessary feelings. But his heart was made of blood, and he was unable to harden it enough to keep fear at bay. 

He was doomed to live at the whims of his own feelings. 

Sun Wukong was old, tired by time itself, too tired to fight against the onslaught of tears surging in his eyes. He didn't have the strength to keep them inside of him, he didn't have the will to repress the feelings tormenting his heart. So he cried as if he was dying, maybe some part of him was, the part that basked in the warrior's fondness, for he knew it would be nothing but wishful thinking from now on. Macaque would never treat him that way again, he would disappear in his shadows with a scornful face (maybe he already did), and his love would remain unattainable. It would've been better, perhaps, if he never knew how the other smiled, how his fingers felt in his fur, how his purr sounded like, how he woke up after the first rays of light. It would've been better if he kept fooling himself with lies, if he never knew the shape of the warrior's heart. 

How was he supposed to live with this longing?

The sobs racking his throat were like earthquakes, they seized his entire body, made him tremble and cower in the shadows of the cave. He couldn't recognize his own voice, the wails sounded wrong, something unnatural, something that shouldn't pass his lips, that shouldn't even exist. His heart hurt, abused by his own feelings, eaten by fear, drowned by sorrow, pierced by anger, the pathetic organ struggled to even beat properly. 

Sun Wukong dived further in his knees, face hidden by his arms, tail tied around his own leg, he looked like a shaking newborn, afraid of the air itself, of the world around him, wanting to curl and take the least space possible. Some selfish part of him wanted to disappear, to never face the disappointment of his mentee, and of his ex-best friend. He prayed for someone to wipe away his whole existence, to let him rest, to let him bask in the peace he had longed for all his life. But no-one was kind enough to fulfill his wish. It wasn't surprising in itself, which god would be mad enough to lean over the pathetic monkey drowning in his own tears and decide to grant him mercy? He was doomed to wallow in pain until someone found him, a fitting punishment for the fool he was. 

He spent hours there, not even moving an inch, curled upon himself as if everything around him was made to hurt him. He found himself pathetic, to react like that, to cry and shiver as if he was a cub. It was like he was back inside of his mind, back where he cowered behind his walls, unable, unwilling to face the world. How the mighty have fallen, what would the ones that admired him would say? What would the ones that feared him would say? He was not the gold coated legend they hoped for, he was not the ruthless mightiest monster they despised, everything about him was a well-made lie. He was nothing but a monkey, and he hated that, he wanted to be more than that. He wanted glory and power, he wanted love and wisdom, he wanted to be seen, to exist in the eyes of others. But his nature always caught up with him. 

In the end, this is what he was : a scared beast. 

"Monkey King?" The sage jolted, he looked around and his breath hitched, MK was there. The kid looked like a mess, soaked wet, eyes reddened by uncried tears and breath stuttering. The King sprang on his feet and wiped away his tears, trying to look like everything was fine, when everything felt like it was crumbling. MK sat beside him and took a few seconds to catch his breath. "I was so worried, Macaque is still looking for you."

The King gulped, trying to gather himself, and failing to do so. Everything around him felt wrong. 

"Are you…are you awake ?"Mumbled the kid, he put his head on his knees, eyes lost in the storm. "Not like, awake as in you just woke up but… are you actually there?" MK's voice was tentative, as if voicing his desire any louder would be a sin. It shattered Sun Wukong's heart to see him so meek. He hated himself for daring to make his kid worry, he hated himself for daring thinking of lying again, for being happy that his lies were not fully discovered. "Maybe I'm just delusional, but I swore I saw… I swore I saw your magic being all calm and controlled, like it was when you were… there. It was a mess these last months after the LBD fight, but now it's… normal." MK looked at him, gaze searching, he turned away after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence."Forget it, it's nothing, I'm just desperate."

"I’m sorry." Croaked the sage, voice rough, abused by his prolonged silence. Unable to keep lying after seeing his mentee hurt this much. It felt good, in a way, to apologize for his lies, it soothed something inside of him. 

"You're really–" MK lightened up as if someone just gifted him the moon. His joyous face dimmed slightly after a few seconds. "Did… did you just wake up or…" and this was the dooming question, wasn't it. But Sun Wukong didn't want to lie, he lied enough to this boy. 

"I have been for two weeks and a few days." The silence following his confession was daunting, it was as if MK was trying to process his words, to understand the meaning behind them, it was unnerving. 

"Two weeks ?" Whispered the boy, gaze dimmed by thoughts. 

"I…" the sage gulped, words on the tip of his tongue. But admitting his own weakness, especially to the boy he was supposed to protect, was daunting. "It felt good to be… cared for."

"Good? Why do you mean–"the kid cut himself, eyes widening in realization. "Gods, you’re both messes."

"I'm sorry."

"I…Monkey King you have to tell Macaque. He's still searching for you, he doesn't-"

"He doesn't know I'm back." Cut the sage with a tight voice. He felt disgusted with himself to ever be happy about this fact, about selfishly keeping the warrior in the dark. It was comforting to know Macaque didn't learn of his lies through another, but it also meant he would be the one to tell him. And even if some part of him wanted to keep lying, mayhaps to pretend he only just woke up, he knew it would only hurt them more. In his long years of living, he learnt that the truth wasn't something you could hide forever. 

"No…"Sighed the kid. "You gotta tell him, it’ll be worse if you wait, trust me." 

"Yeah, yeah I know. I never wanted to lie for so long, but he was so… It’s been a long time since he was like this with me."

"Hm, well maybe you can try to patch things up with him." Suggested the kid with a hopeful gaze. 

"It's not gonna work, bud."

"You didn't even try."

"I know it's useless. He hates me, he doesn't want to be here."

"And how are you so sure about that?" Replied MK. "He treats you so well now, it has to mean something."

"He… doesn't know that I'm me, it's not the same."

"So you think he's just gonna… disappear if you reveal the truth?"

"Essentially yes. He made it very clear that Flower Fruit Mountain is not his home and that he doesn't want to be here." Mumbled the King, mind drifting to all the times Macaque came to demand blood. 

"Not his ho- how can this misunderstanding even exist !?" Groaned the kid. "Look, I'm not supposed to tell you that, and Macaque will be super mad if he learns of this, but trust me when I say that Macaque wants to be here. If anything he's afraid you're going to kick him out. You want him to stay, and he wants to stay, you see where I'm going with this ?"

" I somehow doubt he feels like that."

"Come on! You're kidding me. Just try, besides you can't keep lying, you know that, right ?"

"I know, it's just, maybe it'll be easier for everybody if I keep lying." Sighed the sage.

"Monkey King you… you know you can't keep lying forever, Macaque is gonna catch up, and he's gonna be more mad if he realizes what’s going on without you telling him."

"Sorry." Mumbled the King, he turned away, unable to gaze at the kid's hopeful face. 

"Look, I won't tell you things will turn out fine, because I honestly don't know how things will turn out. But if you're honest with him, I'm sure there will be hope."

"I mean, how can I even be honest?" Sadly chuckled the golden monkey, he rose slightly and cleared his throat. "“Hey Macaque, so you know the last two weeks you think I was behaving? Turns out I was awake the whole time! Also I love your belly scratches, you think you can give me some now?”, it's not gonna work."

"Okay, yeah, maybe don't talk about the belly scratches, not now." Giggled the kid, his dimmed smile slightly lightened up by his foolish act.

"I mean those belly scratches are soooo good." Chuckled the sage, happy to see his kid being a bit more joyous. 

"The Monkey King, addicted to belly scratches."

"To Macaque's belly scratches, nuance." Corrected the sage, MK barked a laugh, eyes crooked like moon crescents. Sun Wukong smiled softly, he sighed when he recalled the memories that flooded him when he pushed the kid away. He hoped they weren't true, he hoped they were nothing but twisted illusions conjured up by his sick mind. "Hey bud, did I ever…hurt you… when I was “asleep”?" MK flinched, arms immediately tightening. 

"No…" Sun Wukong knew it was a lie, but he decided to not prie for now, this sort of thing needed delicacy, and he was too emotionally vulnerable to deal with it. 

"Can I have… a last few hours before I tell him ?" Asked the sage with a frail voice, almost unheard. 

"You know this will be harder if you-"

"I know, I just wanna show him a place. And I'm not sure he will still be there if I…" 

"Okay… But I will call Macaque tomorrow morning." Warned the kid, trying to look stern, and failing at it. 

"Yeah, thanks bud." 

"Your welcome, and Monkey King…" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're back." Mumbled MK as he threw himself at the sage and tightly hugged him, almost as if Wukong could disappear if he didn't hold him tight enough. 

"…thanks, I'm glad to be back too. I'm sorry I left you alone." Whispered the sage as he nuzzled the boy, losing himself in the familiar scent. Despite all his lies, all his hurting, this was the truth. He was glad to be back, he was glad to be able to hug his kid. 

They spent a long time there, tightly glued to one another, hidden in the shadows as the sky, outside, cleared itself. Macaque found them after a bit, fur all over the place, breath struggling to pass his lips. MK awkwardly loosened his hold on the King and backed away a little. 

"You're both safe." Sighed the macaque, tension fading away from his body. 

"Yeah, hm, I'm gonna go home." Suddenly blurted the boy, Macaque looked at him with a raised eyebrow and MK stuttered. "I have… things to do? Anyway, I'll call you tomorrow morning! Promise. Love ya, bye!" Screamed the boy as he ran outside, throwing a thumbs up at his mentor on his way. 

"This was...weird." Mumbled the macaque, he turned towards the sage and narrowed his gaze. "Why did you leave like that? You're okay?"

The sage took a deep breath, he chirped, a soft thing, meant to be reassuring, but it came out shaky and unsure. Macaque crouched in front of him and carefully looked for any sign of injury, Sun Wukong eagerly leaned in each touch, knowing very well it could be the last time he ever felt his moon warm hands on him. The sage tied his tail on the warrior's wrist and guided him outside. There was a place Macaque needed to see, a place Sun Wukong avoided for eons, somewhere hidden, inside his mountain, only tended by clones. 

Macaque followed him, confused, letting out two or three stuttering chirps here and there. But the sage was unrelenting, he needed to guide the warrior there, he needed him to see that place before telling the truth (before watching him disappear forever). 

They walked through forests and meadows, reaching one of the mountain outskirt. Macaque eyes narrowed the more they walked, perhaps recognizing the place, it was one of his favorites after all (before it was drowned by fire). Sun Wukong has spent a lot of time trying to save the place, replanting trees and healing the soil, trying to give it the splendor that it once possessed. Sun Wukong slowed a little when they began to reach the orchard, his own heart beating frantically, his steps stuttering more and more. He came here often, before the attack in heaven, spending days lazing around in the trees, eating the fresh picked fruits. It was one of the first places that fell prey to Erlang's fire (according to his subjects), the place where they suffered the most casualties. 

The beautiful thriving orchard became a cemetery of monkeys. When Sun Wukong granted immortality to his subjects he foolishly forgot that newer subjects will always be born, ones that wouldn't be able to escape death. He always felt like he failed them. How did they feel ? Them that only heard about their King through legends and tales, that heard about his gentleness, about his braveness, about his foolishness. Them that looked at the immortal elders with awe, hoping that the King would return to grant them the same blessing. How did they feel when death fell upon death ? Did they think he abandoned them ? Did they think they were not worthy of immortality compared to the elders ? 

When he learned of Erlang's fire, of the deaths of hundreds of monkeys he didn't even know, he realized that he was not fit to be the King of monkeys. He granted immortality without realizing his troop would never be static, that life would never stop flowing, and as such, if he gave immortality to each newborn, a time would come when the mountain would not be enough to sustain them. He divided his troop between the immortal ones, doomed to be outside of nature itself, of watching the others die, and the mortal ones, doomed to question why they weren't the chosen ones, to doubt the love their King held for them. How did you explain to a dying monkey that you couldn't grant them immortality ? How did you explain the lack of resources, the lack of places? How did you explain that their death was needed when you could see the fear inside of their eyes ? He was unable to provide for all of them. His youthful mistake would follow him forever, crushing him, reminding him he wasn't fit to be King but he didn't have the luxury to flee the crown. 

The topic of immortality was taboo inside of his troop for a reason. Sun Wukong made sure to be there for each death, watching each little sun burn out, but he wasn't brave enough to be there for each burial. This orchard was a cemetery of his failures (Ba tree was somewhere here), and the only thing he could do was to keep it untouched and everlasting, a sumptuous bed for the bravest of his little suns. 

The orchard was guarded by two clones, they sat in front of the colorful trees and the flowering soil, weapons in hands. They let them pass when they caught the gaze of the King. Macaque was silent, following in his footsteps quietly, perhaps only realizing what this place had become. Each tree was well-loved and brimming with life, each carved with a name, sometimes with light-hearted drawings, or the paws of a particular monkey (one close to the deceased). The orchard wasn't little, it extended in all directions, a forest of peace made for rest. 

Sun Wukong guided him inside of the orchard until they stopped before the oldest tree,the first Sun Wukong planted, a mango tree. 

Incense sticks were lightened and planted at the roots of the tree, something not unusual here, the place was veiled by the smell of flowers and incense, surely the work of one of the clones that were made to tend to the place. Macaque approached the tree and sat in front of it, Sun Wukong sat at his side. 

“BELOVED WARRIOR-LIU'ER MIHOU” was carved in the tree trunk, besides the handprints of a lot of monkeys (his own lost among the others). There was a time when Mihou's corpse was buried there, Sun Wukong was granted time after his warrior's death to return home and bury him. The corpse was no longer there when his journey ended, stolen by another. He had been enraged then, flowed by burning feelings, at the time he decided to guard this place with his life, he made clones and ordered them to guard the orchard at all costs.

He wondered now if his warrior crawled out of this place when the witch revived him, or if she stole his corpse and buried him somewhere else to prepare her wretched plans. He wondered if she stole the comfort this grave could offer, if she dumped him in the filthiest of places and made him believe nobody, not even his own troop, would organize a burial for him. 

"This is… my grave." Mumbled the macaque as he traced the carving with shaking hands. "I… I never knew I had… "Sun Wukong guessed his questions were answered by that trembling whisper, he leaned over Macaque, head falling on his shoulders, tail curling protectively around him. 

Macaque took a shaking breath and quietly watched the tree, awe filling his face. 

"Was I buried here? I didn't crawl out of here… it would've been nice." And Sun Wukong wondered from where he crawled. He hoped the witch dumped him in, at least, a decent place. But knowing her, and her way of feeding hatred, she probably threw him in the vilest places, made him believe the sage didn't care about his rest, that the troop didn't care about his rest. She always had been the kind to hurt the mind, to tear it until it bends to her will, this wouldn't be out of character for her. Sun Wukong pressed further into the warrior, almost tempted to talk, to reveal the truth, but he didn't want to fight here, not in this sacred place. 

They spent the rest of the day here, quietly watching the incense sticks burn out, until a clone approached them to plant new, fresher ones. Sun Wukong held Macaque tightly, not daring to even utter the slightest of chirp. Macaque hold was weak, but it was there, he clinged to his arms, hand loosely buried in the fabric of his shirt, and it meant the world to the sage. 

It was in the silence, in the quietness of the place, only disturbed by the soft steps of wandering clones, that they dared to cry. The sage didn't even know what he was grieving. Was it the friendship he knew was lost for eternity? Or the friend that became a stranger? Macaque was right besides him, but he felt strangely lonely, nothing could fill the void inside of him. 

He avoided the thought of Liu'er Mihou for so long, everything seemed to come down at the same time, every love-filled words unuttered, every thunder-like roars unscreamed, every poisonous insults unsaid, they all flowed upon his cheeks. 

He realized two things at the same time :

The one he loved, Liu'er Mihou, was dead. 

And he wanted to love the one who lived, the Six-eared Macaque. 

He knew what he saw of Macaque wasn't everything, he knew the scornful words and spiteful acts were a part of him as much as the sweet promises and the tender touches. He knew two and a half weeks were too little to really see someone for who they truly were. There were a lot of things he was curious about Macaque, and he knew some parts of him probably already fell (the part that fell for Mihou swooning at the similarities, the parts craving care falling for the slightest kindness), but he was ready to try. 

It was cruel to realize this now, and he was almost tempted to lie for one more day, only to bask in the revelation. But he owed the warrior the truth, he couldn't postpone this, not anymore. 

They left the orchard after a bit, each not commenting on the other tears. Sun Wukong stopped the warrior before he could retreat to the shack, the sage didn't want to have this conversation in a closed place. They settled in a quiet place, away from the orchard, the sun falling behind the sea in the back. 

Macaque opened his mouth, perhaps worried, but he shut himself up when Wukong rose on his two feets, finally seeing eye to eye with the warrior. 

"You're…" Began the warrior. 

"I'm healed." Replied Sun Wukong, he took a deep breath and looked at his moon, diving in his gaze. 

"I see… since when ?" 

"Two and a half weeks." Macaque raised an eyebrow, probably surprised by his statement. He frowned, anger blooming inside of his gaze. 

"Two and half weeks?" Repeated the macaque, each word carefully mouthed. 

"Yeah… I…" 

"Why didn't you tell me anything ?" 

"I… it felt nice." And even if it was the truth, it was probably the worst thing to say, Macaque gaze hardened, his whole face made of steel. 

"What, it felt nice to take me for a fool ?" Scoffed the warrior, voice quiet, but rising. 

"No I… I never intended to hurt you, I just… it felt good" 

"What felt good?" Sighed the warrior, face falling, as if he was defeated. "It felt good to see me fretting? I'm… Gods you saw…you weren't supposed to see me like this. Two weeks ? I'm such an idiot to be this easily fooled-" 

"It wasn't like this!" Snapped the sage, his own voice rising. "It wasn't like this…I just…you were so gentle…" 

"Did you even think of the kid ? Of how much he worried ? Of how you left him alone?" 

"Of course I did!"

"But your own selfish desires are above everything, aren't they? Same old Wukong." Scorned the warrior, arms tightly wrapped around him, eyes glistening with tears. "Did you ever think about what I felt? How much it was-" 

"How much it disgusted you!?" Cut the sage with a heaving chest. "Yeah, I thought about it! All the time, in fact. Does it disgust you that much to know the one you cared about for the last weeks was me and not some feral monkey ? Why are you so gentle with me when you're sure I won't remember a thing !? Why can't you be gentle when I'm awake…"

"Are you seriously asking that!? It should be easy to understand. Why do you think I'm not kind with you, hm, Wukong ?"

"I don't know!" Screamed the King, surprising them both. "I don't know anymore…" he repeated, more quietly. "I thought I knew Macaque, I thought you were nothing but a coward, a cruel and spiteful shadow of who you once were. But how am I supposed to believe that now that I know the way you wipe away my tears !? I'm not the one who did that, I already accepted that you would hate me forever, so seeing you care that much it just… it confused me. It felt so good, and you were so kind, and I loved it. I don't know anything anymore. Can you just…can you stay?"He asked, voice shaking, head bowed. Afraid of the answer, of the scornful reply Macaque would throw at him. Gods, he's going to laugh at his face and disappear with a flick of wrist, and this is going to be their last talk-

"… I can stay ?" His voice was so frail Sun Wukong almost didn't hear it. 

"Yes! Yes you can, t-this is your home." Immediately replied the sage, he lifted his face, a tentative hope blooming in his eyes. 

Macaque turned away, refusing to look at him. It hurted, he wanted to reach him, to hold him like he did mere hours before, but he couldn't. The space between them now wider than ever. 

"Don't follow me." Spat the warrior, he fell in one of his shadows, and the sage held his breath, only to let it go when he was certain that he could still feel the other presence on his mountain. 

Macaque didn't leave. Even if he was mad, even if he probably wouldn't want to see him again, he was still here. And it hurt to think he wouldn't be hugged anymore, he wouldn't be cared for, held like he was precious. It hurt to realize he would fall asleep alone, it wounded him to realize the dream he lived in for those last two weeks was coming to an end. But Macaque didn't leave, and for now, it was enough. It had to be if Sun Wukong didn't want to fall in despair. 

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[actual-changeling]

beginning of the fic that is currently driving me completely insane so any comments are appreciated, maybe i will finish it after all.

He had been made of love once. Of stardust and void and dark matter, hair the flame of a breathing star, wings spun out of light and love.

Crowley remembers the weight of it in his chest, the lightness in his smile, how effortlessly he could get lost within his creations and dissolve into a star brighter than any of them. Oh, how he burned while drowning in them, the heat a soft caress brushing over his skin, an embrace rivalling the grace pulsating where a heart would be.

All he wanted was an eternity in an infinite universe—his universe—and then all of it came crashing down.

—

Crowley had invented a lot of things.

He had drawn constellations into empty patches of the universe with sparking fingertips and a smile on his face, and had placed planets and asteroids within them like a mother places her newborn in a crib. They are his as much as he is theirs, and nothing, not even God, could change that. Among them, surrounded by the physical manifestations of his joyful love, he had felt at home.

While he might not have been responsible for shooting stars, he had been—by far—the most beautiful one, breathtaking like the ending of a tragedy you knew would unfold throughout the play.

The Starmaker, protector of his creations, was cast out by the being who had planted that love within him and named him a prodigal child. One last gentle touch, Her palm pressed to his chest.

Centuries later, in the depths of the night, with the sky spanning above him, he would still swear to have felt an apology on his face, breathed from Her mouth right before hellfire sparked from Her fingertips, right before She set him alight, right before She pushed.

Crowley never got answers to any of his questions, not from Her, not from anyone.

His fall had been answer enough.

—

What he mourns in the sunlight and the glow of the moon, when he fell and when he landed, when he broke through the ground in Eden, and all the way to one lonely, lonely car ride to get away from what had been home, is touch.

Forced to learn that hell does not touch, it takes, he turned his pain into fury, breaking any hands daring to reach out to him, and soon no one except for the mightiest dukes dared to enter his space. Leaving those corridors behind had been an embrace in its own right, and then there had been one guardian angel on the eastern wall of Eden.

Aziraphale did not touch as much as he hovered, near enough to allow Crowley a taste of warmth, of the love he was no longer allowed to own, yet he barely dared to brave the remaining distance between them. Whenever he did, there were always layers of fabric still separating them, so, so close to sating the hunger growing underneath his skin.

Still, Crowley took those moments and treated them with the utmost care, never pushing, never demanding, simply allowing and submitting to the rules that Aziraphale wrote and rewrote with every meeting.

Because tell me, how does someone ask for an embrace when that very question—let them stay, let me have them, please, don't take them from me—is what stole it from you in the first place?

—and then the rules changed.

[downtofragglerock]

For 810nicle day, I decided to do a special Makuta post

Like I've said in the past, I didn't want to just have ocs make up my Brotherhood roster, so I scoured for some available material, and an interesting one came up

in 2008, lego hosted a Makuta moc contest, with the grand prize winner being canonized. That was of course Miserix. But there were four other published winners. The gold and black Makuta seems to be the basis for most modern fan depictions of Kojol, so they were out, but that left three more to use. Images on the entries can be found on bs01's competition gallery page. (I actually came up with names and backstories for these three around the time of my original Makuta oc post a year ago, I just never got around to posting about them until now).

Makuta Helliun: A rather lazy and aloof member of the Brotherhood, Helliun modified their own body with inbuilt gas pockets and anti-grav generators so they could float wherever they needed to go, shapeshifting several sets of wings for steering and stabilizing purposes. Their only real rahi creation of note were several species of living dirigibles that lived on the northern continent. The Vortixx domesticated a population and brought them to Xia to help with the transportation of goods. Helliun was unaware of this act. Helliun's antidermis was harvested by Teridax upon the latter's ascension. (Based on the contest entry with the avsa)

Makuta Urchai: Urchai was a vicious and capable warrior, although she lacked the mind for strategy and tactics, preferring to just be thrown in the direction of the enemy so she could mangle and maim it. In the Brotherhood's halcyon days, she made various rahi species covered in spikes, from urchins to hedgehogs, and would later cover her own body in such spines. Actually had a close bond with the beast-tamer Makuta, helping the latter wrestle some of her more fearsome charges. Her thick-headedness and desire for carnage would eventually be her undoing, as she was slain during the Brotherhood-Dark Hunter war while attempting a maneuver that while not thought out at all, would have provided numerous casualties to the enemy. If it had worked. (Based on the contest entry with the jutlin)

Makuta Arbora: In the Brotherhood's early days when they were but simple rahi makers, Arbora was somewhat of an outlier. Instead of creating various beasts to fill the young universe, Arbora instead made plantlife, plants that were resilient, sturdy, and reliable. Many of the mightiest and oldest trees in the MU are his direct creations. Arbora was quite peaceful, preferring to be among his trees and providing aid to those who sought it among the forests. When Miserix was usurped by Teridax, Arbora did not speak out. But afterwards, when Miserix was supposedly assassinated by Krika and the five who did speak up for him executed, Arbora felt deep pain and regret for not standing with the Brotherhood's original leader. He entered self-imposed exile and left Destral, never to be seen again. He has long been assumed deceased by the Brotherhood. But there is a rumor, almost a legend, of an uncharted valley somewhere in the MU, a valley protected by a great and mighty tree, and all that seek asylum and wish to live in peace are welcome there. They say the tree used to be a being, but transformed into the current protector. With the GSR being excavated, it is now the time for old rumors to finally be tested, once and for all. (based on the green contest entry)

[daughterofsekhmet-bast]

Dua Sekhmet-Bast, Mightiest of the Gods!

You who protect all that is good,

Destroyer of the enemies of Ma’at;

My wedding approaches, and I ask for your favor and blessings.

Protect me and my loved ones, Great Protector of Re.

Shield us from illness, O Healer of the Gods.

Let our days be free and happy, Mistress of Jubilation.

I raise my voice in praise to Sekhmet-Bast! Extend your arms over me, O mighty Eye of Re!

Dua Sekhmet-Bast!

[traumacatholic]

I know you’re going through a lot right now and I feel so ashamed for asking for prayers, but I desperately need it. I live in Canada and the prices are insane. It is impossible to live of one income. Also, getting a job is so hard right now. Can you please pray that I can move out and live alone. I find it so hard to leave my bed and get a job, but I want to leave the abusive house I live in. 24/7 they torment me and then call me ungrateful. I hate it here. Please pray for a miracle, I can’t do this anymore. I need to leave, but I feel so numb and have no support system anywhere.

Please, don't ever feel ashamed to ask for prayers or any kind of help. There is nothing shameful about asking for help or prayers, even if you feel like the person you're asking prayers or help from is going through a lot. Of course, I will keep you in my prayers.

Some prayers you might find comforting are under the Read More. I would recommend picking one (or as many as you think you can handle) and praying it morning and night, and whenever else you need it.

A Prayer in Time of Need

Almighty God, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, come to my help and deliver me from this difficulty that besets me. I believe Lord, that all trials of life are under Your care and that all things work for the good of those who love You. Take away from me fear, anxiety and distress. Help me to face and endure my difficulty with faith, courage and wisdom.

Grant that this trial may bring me closer to You for You are my rock and refuge, my comfort and hope, my delight and joy. I trust in Your love and compassion. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prayer of Saint Bishop Nikolaj (Velimirovic) to the Most-Holy Theotokos

Waves of passion disturb my spirit, great sadness and anguish have overwhelmed my soul. Embalm my soul with Thy Son's peace, O Most Holy One, and by His Grace drive away every doubt and despair. Calm the storm of my sins that, like a fiery worm, burn me, and quench its flame. Fill my heart with joy, O Most Pure One, and disperse the fog of my iniquities before me, for it confuses me. Illumine me with the light of Thy Son. Helpless is my soul, and everything is cumbersome, even prayer. Here I am, cold as a stone, my lips whispering prayers, while my heart remains immovable, for it is smothered in anguish. Melt the ice which envelops my soul and warm my heart with Thy love.

I rely not on human protection, but fall down before Thee, O Most Pure Sovereign Mother of God; reject me not, but hearken unto the prayer of Thy servant. Sadness has overcome me; I can endure the demonic attack no more. I have no protection; there is no shelter for me, and in this battle I am ever being wounded. I have no consolation, but in Thee, O Holy Sovereign. O Hope and Protection of all who believe, reject not my prayer.

O Most Holy Mother of Christ, Most Pure, Most Blessed Theotokos, Satan is pounding at me like the waves of the sea against a ship, pursuing me by day and tormenting me at night. I have no peace; turbulent is my soul, my spirit trembles. Hearken, O Most Holy One and help me. Intercede before the dear Lord that He may have mercy on me and forgive the sins I have committed. O Most Holy Mother of Jesus, Thy grace is great, and the mightiest opponent to the powers of Hades. Thou art able to save even the greatest of sinners who, having been cast into the depths of hell by unclean powers, should call upon Thee. So too, save me, for lo, Satan will have me stumble and will destroy my faith, but I trust in the Lord. I magnify Thee, Who art more holy than the Cherubim and the Seraphim.

Amen.

By Father Arseny, an Orthodox priest held prisoner in a Soviet Gulag

O my beloved Queen, my hope, O Mother of God, protector of orphans and protector of those who are hurt, the savior of those who perish and the consolation of all those who are in distress, thou seest my misery, thou seest my sorrow and my loneliness. Help me—I am powerless; give me strength. Thou knowest what I suffer, thou knowest my grief: Lend me thy hand, for who else can be my hope but thee, my protector and my intercessor before God? I have sinned before thee and before all people. Be my Mother, my consoler, my helper. Protect me and save me, chase grief away from me, chase my lowness of heart and my despondency. Help me, O Mother of my God!

Prayer for Mental Health

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit. I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy's sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil. For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Prayer to Saint Brigid of Ireland

Saint Brigid, You were a woman of peace. You brought harmony where there was conflict. You brought light to the darkness. You brought hope to the downcast. May the mantle of your peace cover those who are troubled and anxious, and may peace be firmly rooted in our hearts and in our world. Inspire us to act justly and to reverence all God has made. Brigid you were a voice for the wounded and the weary. Strengthen what is weak within us. Calm us into a quietness that heals and listens. May we grow each day into greater wholeness in mind, body and spirit.

Prayer to Saint Dymphna

Good Saint Dymphna, great wonder-worker in every affliction of mind and body, I humbly implore your powerful intercession with Jesus through Mary, the Health of the Sick, in my present need. (Mention it.) Saint Dymphna, martyr of purity, patroness of those who suffer with nervous and mental afflictions, beloved child of Jesus and Mary, pray to Them for me and obtain my request.

(Pray one Our Father, one Hail Mary and one Glory Be.)

Saint Dymphna, Virgin and Martyr, pray for us.

[echantedtoon]

Demon Bride Ch3 Dealings With Fate P2

(This is what the demons will be looking like more in the story, of course the art's not mine, I'm just referencing the designs with tails/pointed ears/more animalistic traits for the story.

at.tumblr.com/flanelltees/i-forgot-i-didnt-post-this-cuz-i-think-i-didnt/xm0ulroupqxk)

The deal was agreed upon. The cards were set. The dice had been rolled. And all parties were now aware of the price that would be taking place. Six weeks. You had just six weeks to figure out and plan how you were going to be able to pull this off. One problem was solved. You before had no choice but to pay back the debt by marrying either Shinazugawa brother, but luckily the Elder HAD agreed to the terms and agreement of your deal, so now you did have a choice. Not only a choice, but a CHANCE!! But with it came two other questions and problems.

How are you going to get the last five coins you need in just six weeks? And once you DO get the coins, how are you going to get out of marrying anyone?

Both of them equally carried different problems. It took you nearly a third of the year just to save up enough coins after buying food and anything else you needed. Five coins may not seem like a lot to most people, but when you lived in poverty just doing odd chores to survive, then it was extremely hard. You were SURE you could do it if you worked yourself hard enough, but then that left an even BIGGER problem. How were you going to ensure you wouldn't be married off to anyone else the Elder chose for you? Sanemi or not, you were STILL chosen to be the next one married so like it or not....You would still be forced to wed someone the Elder chose, and you were absolutely SURE he already had picked someone else for you to marry. Once someone was chosen to do the New Year Full Moon Marriage Right, there wasn't backing out. So while you may escape your fate with the debt, you'll never escape your fate of being trapped to someone in the village. If not Sanemi or Genya then you'll just be married off to someone else in one of the mountain villages. It could be anyone from Rengoku who was a different villages' protector but he often came by to visit a few friends he made in this village. From what you knew he was a very loud but kind man who enjoyed sweet potatoes. Or maybe it could be your villages' resident blacksmith Hatoru. For as long as you could remember, the blacksmith often wore a mask on top of other clothes to keep his face and features hidden from sight, even if it was blistering hot. You heard a rumor it was because one too many people mistook him for a woman but considering you couldn't remember the last time he had the mask off, you weren't sure yourself. It could even be as someone as unexpected as the man known as Zenitsu. The blonde haired man was a-...Strange one. Don't get you wrong. You ran into the blonde often as he was often wondering the village doing work for one of the Elders of the village who took him in, a man everyone usually referred to as 'Gramps'. He was once a fierce samurai who served the mightiest of lords before his injuries forced him to retire, he took Zenitsu in as a child after a misfortune befell him. Zenitsu was a kind man but often...naive and was taken advantage of as a young child. Gave all his life savings to a girl he loved and then she vanished without a trace from your village leaving Zenitsu in deep trouble with no one to turn to until 'Gramps' took him in. You felt sorry for the blonde who crushed easily, but he wasn't someone you would want as a life partner, not that you wanted to marry anyone here anyways. Which is why you had to figure out a way to get away from this.

That night you couldn't sleep. Too consumed by the thoughts and nightmares of being trapped with someone like Sanemi to do so, but the reality of the situation was set in stone just a few days later. Your mind and body had been on autopilot the entire time. A routine you've always had in your life. Get up, work hard, earn and save as much as you could, and then sleep only to repeat the cycle first thing in the morning the next day. The blur was shattered glass when a small girl came to interrupt your work. Today you had been hauling heavy bales of hay from a nearby field into a barn for a farmer ...all for one measly coin, but it'd be ONE measly coin you wouldn't have to worry about. You'd eat tomorrow..or very late tonight if you can talk the farmer into giving you one of his potatoes. You were dragging a particularly HEAVY bail towards the barn all the way on the opposite side of the field, dragging it a few inches at a time. Your hands in tight fists around it knuckles with, your chest heaving for breath with each step you took, and your feet tired after dragging ten others before this one across the field to the barn and lifting them to stack them on top of each other. You didn't hear the small footsteps approaching you until they stopped and you continued to drag the bail farther and farther along the field until someone was standing beside you. You looked at her and then jolted in surprise not noticing her before but you instantly recognized her. It was one of Elder Ubuyashiki's daughters. It was hard not to recognize the twins. They were always beside their father helping the illed man or running errands or delivering messages for them. The one you were looking at was the twin with white hair and purple eyes, she dressed in that purple kimono of hers with the flower pins in her hair. She didn't seem to react to your surprised jump and only looked at you in a way her father always did. The resemblance between himself and his children was uncanny. The twins couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen if you remembered right.

"You must forgive me for startling you," she politely apologized with a small bow of her head, "But I've come to retrieve you for the choosing."

"Uh...Chosing?...Chosing of what?," you asked blinking and lost at her.

"Of the women who'll be the ones who help you plan and get you ready for the wedding of course. You have yet to chose. Many women in the village have volunteered their services already." Ah...Right. You forgot word around her spread like wild fire. She calmly gestured behind her. "There is a selection already waiting for you to chose from. If you'll please follow me."

You shook your head. "I can't. I have four more bails after this one to put away." You nudged the bail you still held with a foot to make her look at it. "I have to finish this job if before nightfall if I want to earn that coin."

She frowned a little before tilting her head. "Forgive me for my confusion, but are you saying hauling these bales of hay when you can complete the job later is more important than picking help for your eventual wedding?"

DONT REMIND ME!! You wanted to yell at the young girl, but held your tongue when you remembered she was innocent in this situation. After all you shouldn't shoot the messenger. So instead you nodded and started hauling it again. "YES!! Tell the elder I'll pick tomorrow!"

"My apologies again," she stepped along and Greeeaaattt she was following you now, "But you already have something scheduled for tomorrow and every other day after that in order to prepare for the wedding."

Every other day after that!? But then that mean you wouldn't have time to work off the rest of the debt! UGH!! Was that why the Elder seemed certain you wouldn't be able to do it?! With this situation breathing down your neck, you'd NEVER be able to save yourself! If only you could switch places with Kanae, then she'd be the one who would be marrying Sanemi-....Wait. Your body once again stopped and the young girl stopped next to you as you also stopped. A thought stung into your brain like a bee sting. 

Why COULDN'T you just trade places with Kanae?! 

The thought seemed to make your tired brain jumpstart with ideas. Yes...Why couldn't Kanae be the one who was to be married? It all made sense. Everyone heard the rumors. Everyone was EXPECTING Kanae to be married. You remembered how she looked after your announcement to be married. Just a day after the Elder made it known, you saw the Butterfly sister on the far end of town, talking with Sanemi of all people and for once the scowl he always carried was gone. Replaced with a long far off stare, one you knew all too well. For it was the same look you gave travelers leaving your village or whenever you looked to the mountain. He wanted Kanae- He loved Kanae. He didn't want you. He made that very clear when he caught you staring at them, and that look of longing turned into the most rage filled snarl you'd ever seen. Not that you blamed him. It seemed even Kanae couldn't bring herself to congratulate you because when the Kocho sisters came to give you their congratulations, Kanae wasn't among them. Aoi said it was because she was too tired, but you knew better. So ...why should you plan for your own wedding..WHEN YOU PLAN FOR KANAE'S INSTEAD!? The thought of that made you slowly smile as an idea to all your problems began to form. The girl also smiled taking it as a good sign when you looked at her. 

"Are you ready to go now?"

"No. I'm staying to finish this job for that money, but I know exactly who I want to help me plan my wedding!"

"Of course. Who shall I send you tomorrow to begin the preparations?"

You couldn't help but smile wider. "Tell Mitsuri I'd like to see her bright and early tomorrow in private!"

In the end the child agreed and left and you hurried to finish the job you'd been tasked with. In the end you did manage to earn that one coin from the farmer. Measly pay for the backbreaking work you had to endure but now you had seventy six coins. Four more and you could pay off the debt in full. You still weren't sure how you'd get the last four coins in a short amount of time but you had an idea involving your home. The hard work the day before left you to collapse in your measly futon as soon as you returned home, only for your sore and tired body to be groggily woken up by a loud pounding at your door. Your groggy self had barely gotten up and managed to open the door before a woman of pink and green hair just burst through with a loud babble of her own-

"Ok! It's about time you opened the door! I was like rattling that thing for the last ten minutes before you woke up! I was afraid to accidentally break down the door you know?" ...You tiredly blinked- "Anyways, I never planned for you before so I'm going to have to start from scratch." A few thuds rang out as she just dropped multiple books and papers and other writing utensils on the floor beside a package wrapped in brown paper before sitting herself down with a louder thud. "I'm going to have to COMPLETELY start from scratch and with everything just a few weeks away it's going to be a tight fit and-...Are you even listening!?"

Your tired brain still made you look at her......before you finally realized who it was and why you wanted her here in the first place. "OH! M-Mitsuri." You yawned widely before you reached up to wipe at your eyes. "I-I'm glad you're here. I w-wanted to talk to you."

"Of course you did! You know I'm the best when it comes to planning these things!," she said before holding up two scrap clothes of two different shades of white. One a more pure white, and the other a more beige-white. "I know it's last minute, but I brought two colors I thought would contrast you well against whichever one's gonna be your groom." She held up the pure white one as you poked your head outside and looked around....No one was around...Perfect. "This one would be the best if you're marrying Genya! He usually wears black so it'll help you stick out next to him!" She then held up the other beige-white one. "However this one would contrast better against Sanemi's white hair. Don't you think?....Hey! Are you even listening to me right now?!"

"Oh trust me. I am." You slid the door closed before inhaling and slowly turning to Mitsuri who looked lightly annoyed you didn't seem to have interest in what she was saying to you. You smiled. "But I actually wanted you to sit with me and listen to my ideas for this whole wedding."

Instantly she beamed at the thought of you having ideas for this entire wedding. "Oh good. Taking some initiative! I like that in a soon-to-be bride! What did you have in mind?"

"Have you already planned ahead for Shinobu's wedding?" It was a simple question, but knowing the love-obsessed woman that was Mitsuri she would've totally done so, and like you were hoping she nodded.

"Of course I did! I'm still waiting to put that in action! *sigh*...Maybe next year."

"And I don't suppose you also did so for Kanae?"

Mitsuri blinked..before looking at you and raising a brow. "....Yes? But this isn't about her-"

"Actually." You sat yourself down in front of her with the most serious tone and look you could muster. "It IS. Because she's going to be the one to marry Sanemi. Not me."

Mitsuri seemed to blink at what you said before squinting her eyes in suspicion. "...And how are you so sure about that?"

You sucked in a breath before letting it out shakily. "Because I'm going to pay the debt I owe Sanemi and his brother." You hoped she bought it. "And the Elder said if I'm able to pay my debts to them, then I won't have to marry Sanemi." Which was the truth. "And Kanae can take my place instead!" Which was a lie but the surprise on Mitsuri's face told you she didn't know that.

"The Elder said that?"

You nodded. "Yes." You felt really, REALLY bad for lying blatantly through the smile your mouth held but it was the only way. You were NOT going to be married to Sanemi if you can help it! And you were going to make sure it didn't happen. "I'll have all the money I'll need by this Saturday, which is why I want you to go on ahead and start the preparations for Kanae's wedding instead."

Mitsuri seemed to stare at you wide eyed...before an absolute beaming smile appeared on her face and she gave a loud squeal of excitement. "Oh goodness! This IS a blessing in disguise! I already have so much planned in mind and she's going to be so happy once she hears-"

"NO!!" You had shouted and held up your hands immediately which caught the other woman off guard. "You can't tell her yet! You can't tell anyone yet! Not until I pay off Sanemi!"

That suspicious look was instantly back. "That seems ..rather suspicious of you to say so..Why?"

"Because the Elder doesn't want anyone to know about this in case I CAN'T pay off the debt," you stressed and acted annoyed like it was actually the truth. "He told me that under no circumstances was I supposed to tell anyone about his plans until I give Sanemi the money! I might already get in trouble because I told you."

....She blinked. "Oh. ...Oh, yes that does make sense. Then why did you tell me?"

"Because I plan on giving Sanemi the money this Saturday after I settle a few things!" You already KNEW how to get the last four coins you needed and you knew how you were going to turn this around. Whether everyone else liked it or not. "I already have everything I need. I just need you to please just go on and start with her preparations while I finish everything. And PLEASE don't tell anyone. We could all get in serious trouble if we go announcing it before the Elders do. I wouldn't want to upset Kanae anymore than she is at the moment, I want her to be happier." And you meant that last part too.

Mitsuri seemed to frown at the mention of Kanae's disappointment before nodding. "Yes...I completely understand that." She inhaled before nodding and raising her fists. "Alright! You can count on me! I'll be sure to make Kanae's dream a reality with your help!"

You smiled relieved and sighed. A weight lifting off your shoulders. "Good. I'll make the necessary arrangements for this Saturday. In the meantime you just do what needs to be done." It was then your f/c eyes scanned over the package she had brought along and pointed towards it. "What's that?"

She hummed looking to wear you pointed. "Oh! A gift!" Gift? A flash of realization went across her face before she grabbed it and held it out to you. "It was just something I threw together last minute for all your practice trials before you're actual wedding-..Er. Well Kanae's wedding actually. At least now I won't have to start from scratch and struggle. I can just follow one of my plans!"

Practice trials package? After a moment of staring you slowly took it from her and slowly began to open it. Underneath was a plain, ordinary, everyday kimono. Like...there literally was NOT anything special about it other than it was all white. Not even fit enough for a wedding dress.

"What is this for?"

"I made it so you can practice your ceremony with it. You know, to help you feel like it's a real wedding! But now that I know you won't be doing anything like that, you can just keep it."

"Wait. Really?"

She nodded. "I have no further use for it. Besides Kanae certainly won't be able to use it either. You both are completely different sizes! I'll have to craft her a different practice dress!"

You stared at it for a moment before smiling. "I-...Thank you, Mitsuri. I like it."

She nodded before sighing. "Well...I have to change my schedule around. This completely threw me off from what I expected was going to happen."

You nodded placing the package down and standing up. "Then this concludes our business. I'll leave everything else in your hands." You then turned to the door.

"Huh? Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

You only smiled back at her sliding the door open. "To take care of some unfinished business I mentioned before."

With that you walked out and closed the door behind you. And by 'unfinished business' you meant selling your home. And you knew exactly the person who'd want to buy your home. When the elderly woman who previously owned the home passed, someone expressed interest in buying it from you. And that someone happened to be Yuki's Father. The older man was VERY interested in the home but even more so in fertile land it came with. The woman was too old to use it herself, and you barely used it except for a few crops to get you buy. You were always too busy to maintain the entirety of it. At first you rejected the many, many, MANY offers of ten coins her father always offered for the property, and while the offer was tempting, you needed the home for the time being but now??...Now that old home and property would be your salvation. It didn't take long for you to reach Yuki's home, and you found her mother sitting on the front steps of her home sewing what looked to be a new blanket for someone's futon. The older woman didn't notice you at first but looked up hearing footsteps and blinked when you stopped and smiled, pausing in her sewing.

"Good morning, Ma'am," you greeted with a bow and you hoped you didn't look too much a mess from waking up that morning. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but is your husband in? I have to talk to him."

The woman blinked for a moment before casually nodding. "Yes. Wait here and I'll fetch him for you."

You leaned back up as the woman leaned back to turn her head to the open door, and she hollered out a man's name twice before she got a response. Footsteps approached and after a moment, a middle aged man around the same age as the woman appeared, and you recognized him instantly from all the times he made an offer to you. This was definitely Yuki's father.

He seemed surprised to see you. "Yes? What is it that you want?"

"Mr. Yuki. Do you remember that offer that you made me?"

He seemed even more surprised Rasing his brows. "Yes. What about it?"

"If that offer still stands, then I'd like to take you up on it."

[darksiders-scenarios]

Pegging war?

When War finds the anonymous letter with this most heinous request, he is so taken back his eyebrows vanish into his hairline. The usually stoic warrior is at a loss for words. Dave, witnessing his protector's discomfort, decides to intervene. He drafts a response on War’s behalf:

*

"Dear Enthusiastic Admirer,

Your proposal has been received with...surprise. Unfortunately, War's calendar is as crowded as a demon horde in Vulgrim’s discount soul store: monster slaying by morning, apocalypse preventing by afternoon and sword-sharpening yoga at night.

In response to your intriguing request, War has handpicked a unique token: a demon pet rock from the shadowiest corners of the underworld, affectionately known as "Grimstone." Its glare is so intense, it's rumoured to have once made a demon lord apologise for bumping into it. But fear not! Should Grimstone's demeanour grow too intense, simply utter "Respect" thrice under the full moon—a small concession to ensure your continued, uh, safety.

It's harmless, mostly, but its glare is a gentle reminder that even the mightiest warriors appreciate a bit of personal space. We hope you understand and can direct your, let's say, "enthusiasm," elsewhere.

Cheers!

Dave (& War who’s currently teaching Grimstone not to chew on reality's fabric).  

P.S. "Boundaries for Dummies" is included for your leisure reading.

[alien-hybreed]

Character Profile: Captain Meteor (Prime)

Story: Lizard Brain, The Tangled Web, That's a Wrap

Civilian Name: Hayley Drummond

Species: Human - Superpowered

Gender: Female

Appearance: 5'11", Athletic Build, Shoulder Length Blonde Hair

Personality: Playful, Confident, well-meaning albeit brash, ENFP, doesn't believe in Astrology (such a Taurus)

Distinctive Features: Favours a black domino mask, shiny Black leotard, matching black elbow-length gloves and thigh high boots in almost every reality.

Motivation: Protect the innocent and defenceless, try not to embarrass herself along the way

Powers: Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Speed, Flight, Accelerated Regeneration, Energy Absorption, Energy projection, Borderline Invulnerability

Status: Varies across the multiverse

Likes: Cute boys, people cheering her name, cute boys on charity calendars where they wear very little, donuts, cute girls, the look on Disastro's face every time she hits him, polar bears, going really fast

Dislikes: bullies, Disastro, feeling not good enough, rejection, Sabre Wulf, people on social media shipping her with Sabre Wulf, disappointing her parents, articles speculating if her and Sabre Wulf are a thing, Samantha Worgren aka Sabre Wulf

About: When she was a teenager, Hayley Drummond was relentlessly bullied for being tiny, shy and overly plain. All that changed when a cosmic event gave her the proportionate strength and power of an exploding sun. Becoming tall, beautiful and boisterous in a matter of weeks - her parents and peers figured that was just her growing up.

Over a decade later and she is now a proud member of The Protectors and is often referred to as Earth's mightiest protector. A title she bears without a hint of modesty. Though her true identity remains a well-guarded secret.

While she means well and is a staunch advocate for the safety of others, her impetuous spirit and poor spatial awareness can often see her accidentally create as much havoc and destruction as the villains and calamities she fights against.