#Wrath and Fury (The Entity)

[lynbichiots]

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬!

pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

tw: hate sex, abuse of power, manipulation, shower sex (stimulates you with the showerhead), dirty talk, spanking, dehumanization, (incorrect use of curses), sadism, misogyny, light choking, age gap of 21 (reader) and 28 (Satoru), (reader has 0 survival instincts)

wc: 7,1k

The night fell heavy, laden with a dense air that barely left room to breathe. The shadowy streets stretched toward the horizon, but Satoru's footsteps echoed with a steady rhythm, each one soaked in a restrained anger that had matured over time. Under the waning moon, his silhouette cast dark shadows that seemed to take on a life of their own. As a special grade sorcerer, his power over curses was beyond imagination.

And you… you had awakened his wrath.

Two months had passed since a special grade curse had taken the life of his best friend without mercy, and now he had been assigned a special task: to watch over the person who had unleashed that curse.

You.

You were the one who had killed his best friend.

And the most sinister part?

You didn’t even realize it. You did it just for fun.

Sighing in exhaustion, his heart heavy, Satoru straightened up, momentarily closing his eyes as he tilted his face toward the sky where the moonlight was kind to him, illuminating his face. Halloween night wrapped the city in a shroud of shadowy mystery. The lights from jack-o’-lanterns lit his path, casting dancing figures on the walls of the buildings.

The laughter of costumed children echoed like an enchanted chorus across the sidewalk, but even their joy couldn’t calm the storm that raged within Satoru.

As he opened his eyes and took one last glance at the sidewalk, his teeth clenched in fury as new curses emerged from unexpected places, embedding themselves in the small bodies, oblivious to the demonic entities. Each laugh, each joyful scream, was a dagger stabbing deeper into his resentful heart.

Seconds passed, and with them, new curses sprouted, one after another, like cockroaches crawling out of the sewers, infesting everything in their path.

And all of them, provoked by you.

He knew it.

He could see you, smell you, and sense you from miles away. Thanks to his six eyes, which burned with unquenchable hatred in your direction.

He could feel your energy expanding like pheromones in the air, trapping him without escape despite his resistance to your charms. Each beat of his heart was a reminder of the betrayal, of the darkness that consumed him.

Satoru, the embittered villain who swore he wouldn’t rest until he saw you fall, until every curse you had unleashed was repaid in full. His obsession with revenge had transformed him into a shadow of what he once was, a being whose only purpose was to see you suffer.

A few weeks before Suguru’s tragic death, the two friends had shared a secret conversation, filled with topics so dangerous that they could have been executed or silenced by the higher-ups. Being the strongest had led them to question why they practiced sorcery. In those moments of confidence, Satoru revealed the depth of his hatred, a hatred that had grown over years of feeling used and betrayed.

They were always seen as monsters, weapons meant to protect the defenseless souls of humans. But why should they, when the world was full of humans like you? Humans who, in their eyes, deserved nothing but contempt.

To Satoru, all humans were cursed, sinful apes.

And he wanted to exterminate them all.

You were first on his list.

With his long arms reaching towards the sky, Satoru closed his eyes one last time, letting out a breath as he stretched. Every muscle in his body tensed and then relaxed, releasing his pent-up fury. A satisfied smile spread across his face as his eyes focused on the distant house at the top of the last mountain in Weverpoond.

There, in the distance, he saw you.

His gaze filled with a dark determination, a silent promise made the moment he met you, and his hatred turned into obsession.

Resuming his steps with a twisted joy, Satoru crushed each of the curses in his path, swallowing them and making them disappear instantly, his eyes locked on your figure as you sat on the black carpet of your room.

He watched you, completely mesmerized, his mind focused on a single purpose:

Revenge.

•

"Come on!" you laugh with a mix of defiance and nervousness, rolling your eyes and bringing your index finger to your chin, tapping it lightly as you slowly make your way toward the shelf filled with stuffed animals from your childhood. "I know you're here, stop hiding."

Without taking your eyes off the shelf, you furrow your brows in a mix of frustration and confusion, glancing sideways at the black wooden board lying on the floor. The small quartz triangle remains motionless, and with a contained fury, you return your gaze to your stuffed animals.

"If you don't show yourself by the count of three," you say with a trembling but firm voice, biting your lower lip to hold back the laughter bubbling in your chest, "I'll say goodbye tonight and won’t play again until tomorrow."

The threat hangs in the air, thick and palpable, but not a single curse stirs.

Feeling disheartened and disappointed, you complain with annoyance and begin to count.

"One...”

Nothing.

"Two..."

The wind howls and wails, filling the quiet room with an unsettling noise.

"Don't make me reach the end," you whisper with desperation, holding your third finger with your thumb, giving the curse one last chance to appear. But seeing nothing, you exhale in defeat, feeling your hope fade into the darkness of the night.

Silence took over your room, interrupted only by the whispering wind that seemed to mock your frustration. You remain still, your gaze fixed on the stuffed animals, waiting for movement, a sign, anything to break the tension squeezing your chest.

Suddenly, a faint creak broke the stillness, and your eyes widened with a mix of excitement and terror as your heart began to pound. The sound came from the black wooden board on the floor, and you quickly ran toward it, freezing as you witnessed the scene unfolding at your feet.

The small quartz triangle began moving rapidly, tracing letter by letter to form a sentence. Your eyes anxiously followed its movements, and you nervously swallowed as the triangle slowed down, finally completing the sentence.

“Be careful, he’s watching you.”

You shivered.

“Who?” you murmured, feeling a spark of excitement as a chill ran down your spine.

The triangle pointed to the letter “S” and then stopped. You cracked your fingers in anticipation and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in boredom. You stared at the Ouija board for a few seconds, and nothing happened. You even leaned toward it, letting the cool October air brush against your bare thighs under your short skirt.

With the wood and quartz in your hands, you examined them closely, searching for any imperfections but finding none. Everything seemed to be in perfect condition, but an idea crossed your mind, and an ironic smile formed on your lips as you let out a scoff.

"You’re messing with me," you muttered, directing your gaze toward your stuffed animals. You squinted, watching for any movement, any sign of life in those inanimate toys. "Come on, it’s Halloween. Don’t make me think there aren’t spirits in every corner of the house."

The silence grows heavy, and you wait, but nothing happens.

Pouting, you glance back at your Ouija board, hoping for some response, some hint of the supernatural. But the board remains still, inert. Frustration wells up inside you, and you're about to throw the Ouija out of sight when, suddenly, a dull thud behind you paralyzes you.

You quickly turn your head toward the shelf, and there, on the floor, is one of your favorite stuffed animals. The old bear, Berry, with its missing eye, stares at you from its position on the ground. A chill runs down your spine as you drop the Ouija onto your startled feet. You blink, your lips parting, and your tongue feels heavy and dry in your mouth. Swallowing with difficulty, you straighten up, sensing an ominous air, different from the curses you invoke every night.

With determination, you ignore the fallen Ouija and step toward the affected stuffed bear. Each step you take toward the bear echoes in the room, and with them, you feel a thousand eyes following your every move.

As you pick up the bear, a more intense chill runs down your spine, as if an invisible presence were watching you. The atmosphere thickens, charged with a palpable tension that makes you want to vomit.

With the bear in hand, you feel trapped in a macabre game, where every shadow and every sound seems to conspire against you. Reality and the supernatural intertwine, and for a moment, you doubt your own sanity.

You spin around abruptly, but see no one. The room seems empty, the only thing moving behind you are the sheer purple curtains, stirred by the breeze from outside. With determined steps, you rush to close the windows, feeling the hairs on your body stand up in fear. With the window now shut, you feel a little calmer, but the sensation of being watched doesn’t go away.

“Who’s there?” you ask with a trembling voice, trying to keep calm.

You scan every corner of your room, leaving no spot unchecked. You see nothing, but fear still pulses through your veins like a poison without an antidote.

The sensation of being watched lingers, and a shadow in the corner of the room seems to move with every blink.

Perhaps you’ve already gone mad. A side effect of playing with spirits.

Silence is your only response. Your room feels cold, though no cool air is circulating inside. You close your eyes, trying to let it go, and once again, you bend down to where the Ouija board lies on the floor. The black, fluffy carpet tickles your legs as your fingers quickly move to close the game.

When it’s finally over, you breathe a little easier.

You sit, chest heaving, trying to calm your breath. Suddenly, the silence is broken when the record player on the small table near the window begins to spin, emitting an eerie crackle before the song Run, Rabbit! Run fills your room ominously. The sound seems to wrap around every corner, making the air feel heavier, thick with mystery.

Your eyes snap open and your heart pounds, stuck in your throat as you slowly rise, your eyes fixed on the record player. Every step you take toward it resonates in the silence, as if the house itself were the only thing listening.

With trembling hands, you try to turn off the record player, but the task is impossible. A broken whimper escapes your throat in anguish, and in your fear, you end up smashing the player. But to your horror, the melody continues, growing louder as if the lyrics are offering you the solution to this horrific mess that’s driving you mad and making you want to wet your panties.

Desperate and with your body turned to jelly, you clench your fingers together into a tight fist and begin pounding on the broken device. Yet, none of it helps, and you only succeed in hurting your hand, drawing blood, while the song keeps playing, making your eyes well up with tears.

Biting your lips and backing away from the record player, you take a few steps back until a playful laugh brushes against your right ear, prickling your skin. Your eyes widen in terror and you scream, spinning quickly in the direction of the laugh.

But when you turn, there’s nothing there again, and this time, you’re truly frightened, knowing that whatever is causing the disturbance is not a simple curse like the ones you’re used to.

So, with your mouth dry and fear gripping your voice...

You speak.

“Who’s there?” you repeat, this time in a firmer tone, though the tremor in your voice is still evident.

You turn slowly on your heels, scanning every dark corner of your room with wide eyes, stopping abruptly when you see a shadow dart past. You blink, squinting to focus on the figure, but fail, as the fast-moving entity disappears from your view again.

Then, it passes right in front of your nose, and when you turn your head, your hands tremble, for there is nothing. Fear mixes with a strange sense of curiosity that makes you break out in a cold sweat.

Snapping out of your mind, your senses return, allowing you to hear and pay attention once more to your surroundings, where you realize that the song is still playing, repeating over and over. Frustrated and with fear buried deep in your chest, you approach the record player again, and just as you’re about to touch it, the music stops abruptly, leaving an unsettling echo in the air.

Staring blankly at the ruined player, your shoulders sag with less tension in your body, and your lungs fill with air again. But as soon as that feeling of relief arrives, it vanishes when you feel a cold breeze on the back of your neck, as if someone were breathing behind you.

You spin around quickly, but once again, find nothing behind you, only the oppressive sensation of being watched by millions of eyes that burn painfully against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“T-This...” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “It’s not fun anymore.”

Silence is your only answer. The room, now plunged into an eerie twilight, seems to take on a life of its own, a life that threatens to swallow you whole, leaving nothing but your bones behind.

Finally, accepting your fate, you realize that you’re not alone, and whatever you summoned with the Ouija board is still here, lurking in the shadows.

Or maybe...

Your mind flashes images from the past few weeks, where you’ve encountered that man more times than you’d like to admit; they no longer even seem like coincidences. His appearances had become borderline stalking. But no, there was no way that mysterious man could be some kind of weird stalker.

He’s far too handsome for that.

Returning to the present, you reach one of your hands to the back of your neck, which still tingles from the entity’s breath, and scratch it hard. Nothing answers your pleas, and with your heart pounding wildly in your chest, you decide to leave your room to take a breather and try to ignore your new curse.

Your legs tremble with fear, but you force yourself to move forward. Your hands reach for the doorknob, which slips due to the sweat covering them, but you manage to open the door and stumble out of your room. Finally in the hallway, you walk towards the bathroom just a few doors away, each step echoing through the silent house as you head for the last door at the end of the hall, hoping to find some refuge in the familiarity of hot water.

Standing before your goal, your hands tremble again, but you manage to open the door. As you enter, you close your eyes for a moment, sighing with relief, though the invisible eyes still make you shiver with fear.

At this point, you’re unsure if you’re imagining things.

It’s not as if you could confirm you weren’t crazy—your skin burns from the sensation of a hateful gaze over your entire body, a gaze that multiplies several times, leaving a pair of eyes watching every move you make, ready to turn into fangs that would swallow you whole if you took a wrong step.

Finally opening your eyes, you let your fear subside just a little as you approach the large pearl-colored tub in the center of the bathroom. Your fingers brush against the golden taps, and with a subtle motion, you turn them both, letting cold and hot water slowly fill the tub where, after washing your body, you plan to relax for a while.

The sound of water flowing provides a moment of calm, and without further thought, you head to the shower just a few steps away from the cold porcelain beneath you. Inside the glass enclosure surrounding the shower, you find yourself silently wishing that when you turn on the faucet, the water will wash away not just the cold sweat clinging to your skin, but also the fear gripping you.

With one final, shaky sigh, you quickly strip off your clothes and step under the showerhead, placing it against the wall above your head. The hot water envelops you, relaxing your tense muscles, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes, letting the steam wrap around you like a blanket.

But then, a dull noise echoes inside the bathroom, causing your eyes to snap open. Breathless, your gaze darts around, struggling to focus on anything through the steam.

Until, amidst the artificial mist, you see something. And when you do, the urge to cry has never been stronger. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, your legs buckle, and you cling desperately to the bathroom tiles in a pathetic attempt to find comfort.

You hesitate to blink, afraid that if you do, the entity will disappear. But even so, you blink involuntarily, and when you see nothing has changed, you remain frozen in place, staring into the fogged-up bathroom mirror, where a large, blurry figure stands behind you.

You turn your head quickly, but no one is there.

Fear grips you once again, and you feel the air grow heavier. The figure in the mirror fades, but the sensation of being watched intensifies.

With your heart pounding loudly in your ears and your pulse racing, you hurry to finish your shower, knowing even the water offers no comfort. But despite the lack of comfort, you’re terrified to leave the one place where the entity hasn’t fully manifested.

The water runs down your body, turning cold as the seconds pass. You realize you’re not alone, and whatever you’ve summoned has no intention of leaving you in peace.

The room, now shrouded in unsettling gloom, seems to take on a life of its own. Shadows in the corners shift with every blink, and the water in the tub continues to fill, nearing the point of overflowing. The sound of water falling onto you mingles with the frantic beating of your heart.

However, you can’t shake the feeling that someone else is in the room with you, watching from the shadows like a predator, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves.

The silence becomes oppressive, each passing second heightening the sensation of thousands of eyes on you. You turn slowly, scanning every corner of the room, hoping for a logical explanation. But logic seems to have abandoned this place.

Suddenly, a barely audible whisper breaks the silence, sinking your stomach. You can’t make out the words, but the tone is unmistakable: someone is there, and they’re speaking to you. This time, fear takes hold of you with no intention of letting go.

“Is s-someone there?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

The whisper stops, and for a moment, everything falls into absolute silence, allowing you to take one last breath. Then, you feel a presence behind you, and you know you’re done for—a large, strong shadow looms over your back, grabbing both your hands and pressing them against the cold tiles on either side of your head. You try to turn your face to the side, but your body won’t respond, as if you’ve gone into shock, leaving you paralyzed.

You’ve never encountered a curse this strong, let alone one that could physically touch you.

Sure, a few weeks ago, you released Sukuna, but even he couldn’t touch you or do anything against you.

This was new, and it scared you.

But before you could process what was happening, he sifted through your memories, and a spark of curiosity surged through you, making the blood in your body flow with more force, tinged with excitement.

“Hmmm, riddle me this,” you say mockingly, closing your eyes, still feeling his cold skin against yours. Those unmistakable blue eyes ran nostalgically through your mind with every furrowed line. “Are you who I think you are?”

The room seems to breathe with you, every corner filled with a palpable tension. And then, you open your eyes, and finally, you see him.

It’s that man.

His tall, ominous figure barely visible in the shadows. His terrifying eyes glow with a strange light, and an enigmatic smile spreads across his face, followed by a low chuckle as he presses his body closer to yours.

“Smart girl. I’ve been watching you,” he says, his voice soft and melodic, yet laced with an implicit threat.

His rough fingers massage your hands, and his mouth descends on your exposed neck, sinking his teeth into your pulse, making you scream. Your body jerks involuntarily as his hot tongue laps at the wounded spot, and you sigh when his lips brush against your ear as he speaks in a low voice, “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

His body trembles against yours, as if holding back thousands of years of frustration. His erratic breath falls on your ear, and you swallow a gasp as you feel his bulge pressing against your bare buttocks.

“Why?” you ask, trying to stay calm.

He pulls away from your neck, where he had found a comfortable spot, and his blue eyes lock onto yours, hypnotizing you. Seeing the effect he has on you, he smiles—a smile both comforting and terrifying.

“I just want to play,” he replies, and with one hand, he gathers both your wrists, pinning them above your head, while his free hand begins to playfully trace your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse as you inhale sharply, doubting everything.

You look at him with fear, and his smile widens. His face lowers toward yours, and his sweet breath brushes your lips. “Will you play with me?”

He pressed his body even closer to yours, and his hand tightened around your neck. Your eyes widened, staring at him in terror as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of interest and frustration. His smile grew more enigmatic, with a hint of frustration, making it harder for you to breathe.

“Play?” you repeat with effort, barely able to draw in the little air left in your lungs. You close one eye in discomfort from the choking, trying to understand his intentions.

“Yes, play,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with restrained emotion, as he releases your neck and moves his hand away from the affected area.

You lower your head, gasping for breath, careful not to let the water still running down your body enter your nose. You stay still, unsure how to respond.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, trying to remain calm. “I don’t even know you. What is it that you really want?”

The figure lets out a low, almost mocking laugh, and his eyes narrow as something dark flickers through them.

“I want many things from you,” he says, his tone shifting from the hatred it once held to something more seductive. “But first…” His thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple hard, and you gasp, feeling his lips once again on your neck. “I want you to pay attention to me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. There’s something in his voice that both draws you in and terrifies you at the same time.

He takes a step back, his expression shifting to one of mild irritation.

“It’s not that difficult, you know?” he says, his tone now more serious. His hand strokes your stomach, moving lower until it reaches your mound. His fingertips begin to tease the area, while his lips place soft kisses along your collarbones, and you moan, unable to move your body. “I just want you to answer a few questions. Nothing complicated. I know you already know the answers.”

Dizzy in an inexplicable way, you stop paying attention to his words, focusing instead on the way his fingers feel so close to your heat. You realize you’re playing a dangerous game, one where the rules aren’t clear.

But there’s something in his gaze that captivates you, something that makes you want to know more about him.

You must have definitely lost your mind.

“And if I don’t want to play?” you ask, challenging him.

He smiles, and his eyes gleam. But this time, his smile is colder, more calculated, and finally, he lets you see the hatred and rage that he can no longer hide.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he replies, his voice low and threatening, as his thumb begins to circle your clit. “Because you’re already in the game, whether you like it or not.”

With those words, and locking eyes with him, you know there’s no way out.

But it wasn’t like you were really looking for one.

That was your biggest mistake.

You really should have run when you had the chance.

_______

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You screamed one last time before another slap landed on your already red and bleeding buttocks. Your voice was just a whisper after so much time spent crying out. Still in the shower, the water had stopped long ago, and your arms remained pinned to the tiles, held by shapeless dark curses that burned your skin, while Satoru continued punishing you for your recklessness.

You wanted to protest and hate him, but that was impossible. After all, you were the one who freed Sukuna.

Sukuna killed his best friend, and now, Satoru was determined to make you pay for it.

“Did you think you could pull that shit without consequences?” His voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in your ears like thunder. Satoru’s eyes, cold as steel, were fixed on you, and in that moment, you knew there was no escape.

“It wasn’t personal,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him, but you knew it was a lie.

You had unleashed those curses out of curiosity, for fun, and the chaos they caused had taken lives, left irreparable scars. Satoru had witnessed it all, and now he was here to balance the scales.

“It wasn’t personal…” Satoru repeated, a bitter smile curving his lips. His cold hands began to knead your wounded buttocks, and you hissed in pain, pressing your cheek against the tile in front of you.

Suddenly, his hand moved down to your sex and began rubbing it slowly, bringing you pleasure. His calloused fingers expertly found every spot you liked, as if he already knew where they were.

“Do you feel that?” His voice was low, almost calm. You glanced in his direction and let a tear of frustration fall when something flickered in his eyes, momentarily erasing the hatred there. Then, with a tense blink, he clenched his jaw and slapped your heat as punishment, leaning into your ear to whisper, “That desperation and pain are nothing compared to what Suguru suffered.”

The pain coursed through you like an electric current. It was as if every shadow, every creature you had summoned, was claiming a piece of you, hungry for vengeance over your betrayal. You could feel them, an unbearable weight crushing your body and soul, whispering promises of destruction in your mind, while their master tormented you sexually.

“Did Sukuna also torture Suguru sexually?” you laughed tiredly, smiling triumphantly inside when you saw Satoru tense. “If so, I don’t think he suffered as much as you’re making it seem.” A pout crossed your face. “I could even admit that he probably enjoyed it.”

The bathroom fell silent, the only sound being the water droplets falling from your body onto the slippery floor. Your gaze remained locked on Satoru’s, your neck beginning to ache from the uncomfortable position you forced yourself into just to connect with his eyes. His eyes, full of frustration, shimmered with the reflection of hurt tears.

You immediately regretted what you said, but the apology forming on your tongue had no chance to escape. Satoru’s hand shot out in fury, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking it harshly, arching your back. Your hips jerked upward, and your neck strained painfully from the forced stretch.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt his heavy erection press against your heat. His hips moved with force, making his presence undeniable. Even with one hand pulling your hair, his free hand gripped your jaw roughly, his thumb brushing over your lips before he crashed his mouth onto yours in a messy kiss.

And when you tried to keep up with his disordered kiss, an unbearable pain erupted in the soft flesh of your mouth.

The sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your lip shook you like an electric shock. Satoru pulled back just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath but not enough to free you from his hold. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, a blend of pain and desire that confused you even more.

In the darkness, his eyes gleamed with a mix of challenge and something darker, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

You could have pulled away, could have tried to escape, but deep down, you knew it would be useless. Satoru had you exactly where he wanted, and every move he made seemed designed to destabilize you even further. You stayed still, your breathing uneven as you struggled to regain control of your thoughts.

“Owww,” his long fingers tangled in your hair, pulling with the intent to leave pain in their wake, waiting for your response to his questions. “Does it hurt?”

He whispered against your skin, his voice laced with cruel softness. The question seemed sincere, but behind it, you sensed a twisted satisfaction, as if he was savoring every second of your confusion.

You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. You forced yourself to swallow the pain and keep your gaze fixed on his. “I’ve felt worse,” you replied, your voice coming out more firm than you expected.

Satoru let out a low chuckle, barely a murmur escaping his lips as he locked his eyes on you again. “I hope so,” he replied, as he ran a finger over the spot where he had bitten you, lovingly wiping away the blood with an unsettling calm. “Because this is far from over.”

The tension between you was palpable, like a tight rope that could snap at any moment. And though part of you felt the urgency to act, to do something to regain control, another part of you recognized that he was playing a far more complex game than you had anticipated.

Your body still trembled under the weight of his proximity, but you forced yourself to stay calm.

“You’re filthy, pet,” a smile tugged at the corners of Satoru’s lips. Then, without another word, he stepped away from you, allowing the invisible curses on your arms to tighten their grip, bruising your skin. “I need to clean you off so I don’t dirty myself by touching a filthy monkey like you.”

“What are you—”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and your legs buckled. If they hadn’t been held in place by two curses beneath them, you were sure you would have collapsed onto the floor. A moan escaped your lips, and you bit them to stop your traitorous mouth from betraying you.

Pleasure surged through you as you felt two of Satoru’s fingers spread the lips of your sex, giving it a judgmental look. His lips clicked together in disapproval. You lifted your head and glanced at him over your shoulder, shuddering when you realized he had already been waiting for your gaze. With a cruel smile, he gave a teasing flick to your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you lost control.

“How pathetic,” he said, his thumb quickly massaging the swollen nub, followed by a sadistic chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom.

Before you could respond to his insult, your toes curled, and your hands clenched into fists when the showerhead above you was ripped from its place and positioned over your clit, releasing a strong, warm stream of water onto it.

You were left weak and speechless as small moans betrayed you, escaping your lips.

“Mmm, just like that, good girl,” Satoru said, his voice filled with more mockery than anything else. His eyes gleamed with amusement that made you want to growl. But then, he lifted the showerhead again and aimed it directly between your legs, silencing all the protests in your mind as the stream of water hit your clit once more.

“Ahh… shit,” you groaned in frustration, incoherently screaming as you tried to cling to the slippery tiles, your hands grasping at nothing.

“Wait, please!” The water beat against your sex mercilessly, the pressure so intense it was about to numb and burn your skin alive.

But then, Satoru started moving the showerhead in small circles, massaging your clit from all angles, and the pain quickly transformed into pleasure, making you grit your teeth in frustration.

Somehow, he made you feel dirty and unworthy, made you wonder if you truly were a horrible human being like he had told you so many times. After thinking about it for a while, with your mind turned to mush from the pleasure, a few tears escaped, falling onto the floor, mixing with the water that was spreading across the room.

Satoru, seeing your pitiful state, paused for a moment, allowing you to breathe again. The two of you exchanged glances, with thousands of emotions swirling in your hearts—emotions and feelings neither of you were willing to let out.

But unlike you, Satoru wasn’t swayed by the fleeting connections of a single night.

He had come seeking revenge, and he wasn’t going to leave your bathroom until he got it.

So, pushing his left hand between your folds once again, he tugged at your clitoral hood, exposing the sensitive tip. With one last look of pity in your direction, the water fell onto the exposed spot, and a tremor ran through your entire body, igniting your nerves as if you were being electrocuted.

Your scream echoed in the bathroom, followed by Satoru’s delighted laughter.

“Stop!” you sobbed, shaking your head frantically as you involuntarily tried to spread your legs wider and raise your hips. With shame coursing through your entire being, one last plea left your lips, with nothing left to lose. “Stop, it’s too much, too much…”

Satoru didn’t respond, and you couldn’t open your eyes enough to see his expression. For some reason, the pleasure flooding your body made your eyelids contract, preventing you from keeping them open.

Your mouth hung open, letting gasps and cries escape without shame, blending with Satoru’s satisfied laughter as he continued to stimulate you from behind. Soon, the showerhead wasn’t the only thing stimulating you, as his thumb returned to your abused clit, rubbing it slowly, mixing pain and pleasure in a confusing swirl.

“Please…”

“Please what?” The water stopped falling onto your swollen heat, and relief washed over you.

Your heavy tongue worked hard to answer Satoru’s question, but the words struggled to form in your mind. Still, he noticed your effort, and with an exasperated eye roll, he released the curses from your body, causing you to collapse onto the cold floor like a rag doll.

From your pathetic position, lying on the cold tiles of your bathroom, Satoru made you turn to face him. Your tired eyelids opened, and for the first time that night, you could see him clearly.

It was a sin for someone so twisted to possess such a beautiful face.

His white hair clung to his fine, delicate face, and his unique eyes stared at you, filled with a whirlwind of emotions. But you didn’t pay attention to the details. You just wanted this torture to end. You didn’t even care if he killed you.

You just wanted to be free of his control.

“Finish this,” your naked body, compared to his fully dressed and imposing figure in his rolled-up black shirt and black dress pants, only highlighted the power imbalance between you two.

Satoru didn’t respond to your request. Instead, with adoration in his features, he ran his hands over your weak body, his fingers trembling as he held back from breaking you. You gasped at his touch, too corrupted to care about how sick the situation was.

“Do you want me to finish this, pet?” His hand moved up to your cheek, caressing it the way a master would pet their favorite dog, and you simply leaned into his touch, lovingly pressing your cheek into his palm, smiling softly in response.

“Yes…” you swallowed when his fingers wrapped around the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you up and pressing your face to his. Frustration was all that filled his eyes, while in yours, there was only one word.

“Mercy”

His fist tightened in your hair, and with a curse slipping from his lips, he pulled you toward him, kissing you fervently. Each time his lips clashed desperately with yours, he made sure you felt, in every kiss, just how much he hated you, how much he despised you for making him obsess over you when you were the one person in the world he was supposed to hate until the end.

When you returned the kiss with the same intensity, crossing your hands behind his neck, Satoru let out a desperate moan against your lips. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his body as he stole your soul with his kiss.

Both of you became a mess, you pulling on his hair in desperation, drowning in the kiss, while he clawed at your body, clinging to it as if he might die the moment he let go.

“I hate you,” he whispered against your lips, and you smiled.

“I know,” you said, looking at him, stroking his cheek, planting one last kiss on his swollen lips.

You closed your eyes when you felt his teeth sink into your already wounded mouth, but you accepted it all, even as you bit him back, and both of you began to kiss again, tasting each other’s mixed blood.

Then, the situation shifted completely.

You gasped when you felt your chest touch the cold tiles of your bathroom. You couldn’t explain or analyze the moment Satoru had you on all fours, your upper body collapsed while your buttocks were left exposed to his intentions.

Feeling exposed and with your cheeks flushed, you tried to lift yourself onto your arms, but his foot on your cheek stopped you.

With his long leg stretched out, Satoru smiled in satisfaction from behind you, pleased that he didn’t need curses to have you at his mercy. And the last warning he gave of what was to come was the sound of his belt buckle being unfastened.

“You’re so fucking perfect, pet,” he said, and without another word, he fully entered your heat, making you scream from the brutal stretch.

“Aghhh… wait!” your voice broke, and you frowned as his foot pressed harder into your cheek, leaving a dirty imprint before he stepped away and returned to a comfortable position.

To your misfortune, Satoru being comfortable behind you only made his massive erection bury itself completely inside you, bringing tears to your eyes.

“Shit…” Satoru let out a growl of pleasure, his hands intertwining with yours, stretching your arms out in front of you still pressed to the floor, your buttocks in the air being pounded fiercely, the sound of slapping the only melody within the four walls enclosing you—“So fucking perfect, pet.”

“Satoru…” your mouth could only release the albino’s name, mixed with your ragged moans each time the man thrust into you hard, intent on causing pain.

“Yes, pet?”

His hands released yours, and you clenched your fists as he assumed a new position.

Everything was wrong. Everything was incorrect.

Both of you were breaking your own moral codes for each other.

And still, neither of you cared.

His arm coiled around your neck, choking you, while his free hand began to stroke your wet hair lovingly, giving you light slaps on the face whenever you closed your eyes. With his free hand, he held your chin, forcing you to look at him, and with all your attention on him, he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth, invading the small space without permission, making you gag as his thrusts became faster.

Each of his thrusts was a painful punishment you received with pleasure.

Oh, both of you were so fucked up.

Your moans and gasps were muffled by his hand in your mouth, while his loud, unabashed moans echoed throughout the bathroom, especially in your ear, which he nibbled whenever he felt like he was losing control over you.

“Nghhh,” you closed your eyes before they could even roll back, feeling everything you couldn’t express coming all at once.

“Owww,” his fingers left your mouth to give you a slap, forcing you to look at him. When you did, Satoru began to stroke your hair lovingly, the mockery evident in his words—“Are you gonna come, pet?”

“Mmmhm,” you nodded eagerly as his thrusts quickened.

“Then come, pet,” his lips pressed a kiss to your salty cheek, and you cried out in pleasure—“I give you permission.”

That was all you needed.

When his hips trembled, signaling his release, his moans mixed with yours, growing louder and more intense as you both came hard, soaking each other. His mouth latched onto yours, and once again, he bit your lips in promise, in a messy kiss filled with blood, betrayal, and hatred.

For a moment, neither of you moved, only your rapid breaths escaping your noses and mouths while both your hearts beat so hard they seemed ready to burst at any moment.

But the need for analysis was unnecessary for either of you.

Not when Satoru sedated you and dressed you, opening a portal in the middle of your room, a portal that took both of you to his house outside the city, far from the sorcerer’s school.

He didn’t stop to analyze things either when he locked you in his basement, chained you there, and placed a gag in your mouth so that when you woke up, you wouldn’t hurt yourself screaming for help.

Because no help would come.

Even with his heart still beating wildly in his chest, Satoru gave one last look at your sleeping, bound figure in his basement. Then, with a satisfied smile on his face, he turned around, closed the door, and left.

There was nothing left to restore his morality.

He had succeeded in corrupting you.

But you had nothing to fear.

Because you had corrupted him, too.

And the scream that echoed through his mansion once you awoke…

Confirmed it.

[riicky-ye]

I want Furina to be a hater.

Hoyoverse stop being pussies and let her express her 500 years long frustrations and annoyance.

Let her be wrathful like ancient furies her name is based on. Let her despise gods. Let her despise gods including Focalors. Let her love Focalors, hate Focalors, mourn for Focalors, weep for Focalors, be glad that Focalors is finally dead.

Let her hate Neuvillette for betraying her. Let her feel guilty about it. Let her feel thankful for freeing her from the shackles of her role. Let her see him or other trial conspirators and feel disgust, rage, guilt, meekness, love, and then rage again.

Let her want to break Celestia down. Let her be the human who is so full of emotion that judge gods is her only way to settle. She once was the body of the god of Justice who craved to make a tribunal for Celestia, let her have this in her guts. An all-consuming wrath of human wronged, created to be a tool to deceive destiny, used, betrayed, humiliated — even if it was in the name of the higher Justice, she still has every right to process all the negative consequences of her existence.

Let her be Furina, the human who was named after the entities of vengeance and ire.

Let her be Furina, the human with all the human emotions.

[yandereunsolved]

🦂 Yandere Hanzo Hasashi w/ angel darling 🦂

"Gods from high above, give me one more chance," he whispers feverishly as a zealous prayer on his lips. "I have caged one of yours today. Forgive me."

A fragile kunai attached to a metal chain maimed such an angelic being. The flames of fury were far more powerful than your holiness. His obsession consumed you. It corrupted your beauty. 

"I have failed you."

The droplets of your golden ichor stain the pristine snow. This heat of his melts the snow underneath his touch. Still, your blood remains. It infects his armor, eating away at it, along with his morality. If he had any to begin with.

Your weeps are pure ecstasy, as guilty as he is in taking pleasure in them. They drown out everything else, making you his sole focus. Him, his sole focus, always. You look even better when your face is flushed, whether it be from emotions or weather. 

You, poor you.

Your feathers are scattered amongst the winter landscape. The skeletal structure of your wings nearly burned to ash. It would take a miracle for them to regrow. It would take far more than a miracle for you to regain your full strength.

He will take your wings away again if he has to.

You don't need to be powerful. You need him. He can be powerful for you. He has always been your protector.

"Why can't you see that?" He murmurs, not expecting you to respond.

"I see everything, Scorpion." The brokenness in your tone. It is as if he has died again. Except this time you are his reaper. The omen of death, which he made his own.

"Darling," he falls to his knees near your huddled-up form, like a young child, not a mighty entity.

"My human form pales in comparsion to my true one." His ears nearly bleed from your vocal tone fluctuating from human to angelic.

He reaches his hand up and gently runs a finger along the underside of your jaw. You flinch away at his soft touch.

"Even your true form could not save you from my wrath."

"And you still question why I choose to do the things that I did?" You double over in a simultaneous rage and agony.

"No, your argument has merit, but I disagree. You are far too blinded by following the will of your higher-ups to realize one simple fact—you're my salvation, and I am yours. And I will do everything in my power to keep it that way."

[yanderedbdimagines]

Hi dear, i have a special request. What about yandere Entity with a reade who find a way to escape. The Entity obvious don´t whant them to leave. <3

--------------------

Creative ask! Underneath normal circumstances, I believe that it’s basically impossible to escape the Entity, so I had to get creative xD I hope that the method of escape I picked is lore-friendly enough! And I hope you like it as result!

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The Entity

The Entity is a mysterious force that lures unsuspecting souls into its realm. Souls that have often been tainted- touched by death’s essence.

To the outside worlds- past, present and future, alternate reality or not, it is but a myth. A whisper in the dark. But to most of those who find themselves trapped within its grasp, it is a nightmare made into reality.

You stumbled into this otherworldly domain after the death of a loved one, drawn in by an eerie curiosity just outside of the crematorium center that soon swayed you into the unknown through a trick of the eye.

Little did you know, your mere presence instantly awakened the Entity’s interest, and eventually its possessive nature, after you started traversing though the fog- eventually trying to find a way out. 

At first, the Entity appeared as a benevolent guide, offering solace and shelter in its strange realm from dangers you could sense, but never see. Yet, behind the veiled kindness laid a sinister desire to keep you captive, to possess your every thought, whim and every little part of your being. Your soul especially.

You quickly realized the Entity’s infatuation, its twisted affection made further prevalent after you accidentally stumbled upon a haunting replica of your own past. A memory made physical, but never real. The people you cared about weren’t there, and the animals you did see just didn’t look alive. As if they lacked heart. 

As the night stretched ever endlessly, you came to yearn for freedom- for a way out of this suffocating imprisonment. With every attempt to escape, the Entity's affection morphed into perceivable fury from the surrounding environment, its once soothing whispers turning into menacing warnings. You knew the risks, the danger of crossing such a mighty being, but the desire for freedom burned brighter than any fear. Even though you were still unaware of the realm's true purpose, its minions, and the actual victims trapped within.

Through sheer determination and cunning, you eventually pieced together forgotten fragments of lore and ancient whispers, not only revealing to you the realm’s true nature, but also uncovering a hidden passage that promised escape after a long time of searching. With a pounding heart and trembling hands, you set your plan into motion, long since haven found a way to evade the Entity's watchful gaze by using a strange yellow flower that oozed with a fluorescent yellow substance.

In the distance, near a tunnel made up mostly of stone bricks and various human body parts in different states of decay, you eventually found this potential way out. And it was made further evident as the yellow ooze’s potency sharply reduced after you jumped through the black mists that originally blocked up its entrance.

The escape was fraught with peril, every step echoing with the Entity's enraged cries and your nose tormented by the constant scent of decay. Shadows and mist alike twisted and writhed, attempting to ensnare you, but you pressed on, fueled by the flickering hope of freedom as you warded it with the unusual flower’s nectar. As you neared the exit, the Entity's desperation peaked, unleashing its full wrath upon you, a whirlwind of dark energy and desperate pleas. Even the unspoken threat of using the killers against you as you heard the rearing of chainsaws and the bone chilling screams of monsters echo from all around you.

With a final surge of willpower, you broke through the threshold, a familiar world outside welcoming you with open arms. Gasping for much needed air and a heart pounding wildly, you glanced back at the realm- a large hole in the surrounding morning mist that seemed to collapse in on itself. The Entity's form flickered beyond it in the distance, a mix of fury and heartbroken anguish etched upon its fading shadows- writhing in on itself.

You had escaped the clutches of the Entity, but its haunting presence always lingers in your memories. The chilling whispers and phantom touches serve as a constant reminder of the harrowing ordeal. Yet, with each passing day, you have found some solace in the newfound freedom, vowing to never forget the haunting dance with the possessive being that may almost have claimed your very soul, and to make sure that you’d never fall into its shadows ever again.

After all, despite your escape, the Entity persistently seeks ways to reclaim its hold, attempting to ensnare you from afar—a chilling reminder to remain ever vigilant against its unseen clutches.

[wodeworm]

Shinchū-神虫 Divine Insects hailing from a distant continent prowl the forested lands, not in search of humans, but disease spreading demons. Their imposing size coupled with powerful limbs and razor-like appendages and stingers make them an enemy of utter dread. When Fowl spirits and Yokai encounter Shinchu, they will be torn apart in a berserk fury, horribly mangled and crushing the unholy beings into a unrecognizable paste. In this zealous fervor they can be lost for days at a time maiming and eradicating thousands upon thousands of demons. These miraculous beings play a key role in protecting humans reach enlightenment through meditative practices, Should any malicious entity try to interfere with their burgeoning spiritualty, will incur a most holy wrath from these empyrean beings.

[kit-ken-writes]

Status:: Rewriting stuff I wrote last summer

Genre:: Dark Romance, Dark Fantasy, Monster Romance, smidge of Lovecraftian Horror

Themes:: Coming of Age, Fate & Free Will, Empowerment, Isolation, Fear of the unknown, Human’s place in the universe, desire, love & companionship

Warnings:: Depictions of suicide, child abandonment & neglect, brief mentions of sexual harassment, bullying, Power imbalance (eldritch god and sacrificial offering), age gap (Kyveli is 20 and Yozuthalus is like millions of years old), yandere-like tendencies

Story:: Deep within the mists of the Southern Montlow Sea, lies an island steeped in secrets and tradition. Thoania is home to a people seemingly stuck in history, detached from the rest of the world in complete ignorant bliss. But it's not only the people of Thoania that call the island their home. Something old lives in their bay, within the deep blue hole. Something that came before the island itself, something older than the sea. The One Beneath the Bay. 

The people of Thoania had always worshipped the mysterious entity in peaceful understanding until a momentary uprising illustrated the sheer power and wrath of The One Beneath the Bay. Now in penance, they offer their daughters to the sea. Until one hundred years ago, when the bay claimed none. Now the islanders live in fear of unknown mistakes, wondering if the sea will show its fury again. 

That is until a young orphan, outcasted by the island, takes her place in the line of girls upon the bay’s shore. A young girl who will change the trajectory of Thoania’s stagnation, and alter her future altogether.

Kyveli is the illegitimate daughter of the current magistrate and a local barmaid. Due to the circumstances of her birth, she and her mother were ostracized by the town. And Kyveli often faced severe bullying from the likes of the town children. After her mother's death, Kyveli is effectively an orphan left to her own devices. Until a fateful ceremony will see her life inverted and her future change.

Kyveli is described as being a gloomy child, with rarely a smile upon her face. She has a cynical and apathetic approach to life. And most people conversing with her are often thrown off by her bluntness. Despite her cold demeanor, Kyveli has always been a curious child, seeking out books and scrolls to tell her the secrets of the isle. Or stalking the shores for shells and trinkets. And despite her impoverished upbringing, the Priestesses all note her observant and clever nature.

Yozuthalus is the forgotten name of The One Beneath the Bay. An ancient entity existing long before Thoania and the sea itself. It's unknown if they created Thoania and it's residents or if they just allowed their creation in their domain. Regardless, Yozuthalus considers themselves the ruler of the sea and the people of Thoania have always considered them their god. Its also unknown what Yozuthalus's true motivations and intentions are but for the most part they appeared peaceful as long as the islanders stayed there. But they did exhibit a deep wrath and little care for those who defied them. Yozuthalus is known to be quite mysterious and has never directly spoken to the people. Only using the sea and rain to converse with them. For the last one hundred years, they have refused all offerings, mystifying the islanders. Until a young outcast stood on the sands of it's bay…

Yozuthalus is an omniscient and omnipotent entity who's age transcends time and who's being is incomprehensible to mortal minds. They have an indifferent attitude towards mortals, as long as they stay in the island and follow their unspoken contract. Should it be broken, Yozuthalus is capable of immense fury. But has also shown the ability to forgive presented the right apology. Yozuthalus also shows great wisdom and intelligence about all things, yet has an inquisitive nature when it comes to the lives of mortals, or perhaps just one mortal in this case.

What you’ll find:

Greek/Roman-inspired society

Eldritch-like entity

Lots of water imagery

Black sheep trope

Sacrificial Lamb

Kissing the monster

The voice inside her head

Surreal dreams

Outcasted even as the chosen one

Ancient Rituals

Giving into temptation and desire

© 2024 kit-ken — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[poppystheories]

So, are the stigmata, like, the Pillar burned into their flesh? That's pretty cool.

Honestly, this whole scene hits way harder following the reveal of the Pillar. You can clearly tell that's what Skin's seeing in this moment: the Pillar scorching the sky of their previous world, seemingly burning away all life with it.

Skin's transformation into a Noah is also marked with the black crescent moon, which pretty much confirms to me that it symbolizes evolution through despair.

The Noah awakening is very intriguing. Its fair to assume the panel of the devil skeleton skin pile thing is symbolic, not an actual depiction of what happened in the Noah's memory, but what it actually represents...is it just meant to be a scary image, or does the writhing mass of flesh and scales collapsing out of (or into?) the darkness of a skeletal figure actually hint at anything? I've got nothing right now.

The Earl is also brought to tears by the "truth", or rather the memory of the previous world and what happened to it. I don't think its even been established whether the Millennium Earl mentioned in the prophecy to have been "defeated" and the Millennium Earl that became Mana and Nea were the same entity, just that the Millennium Earl has existed for the 7,000 years since this new world's establishment. I think they must have been separate entities, and the Earl we know only became so after the previous' defeat. Possibly as some kind of punishment/atonement.

All the Noah experience extreme fury at the thought of the Pillar, it seems, but considering how deep that grudge burns, its no surprise the Wrath of Noah is so overwhelming a Memory.

What is surprising is that Kanda was actually able to kill Skin, honestly. It seems the strength of the memory doesn't translate to strength in combat?

[charalysis]

Darksiders: Fury

And finally onto our last Horseman, Fury.

Fury was long awaited by Fans when her game released, everyone eager to see the lone woman amongst the Four and who she was to be. Many speculated for a bit that maybe she'd ironically be the levelest one of the group (at least what I saw).

Fury, is in fact, consistently furious and snappy. She is aggressive, if not hostile. She's petulant and snotty. Often she is tactless and rude. She is self centered and holds herself in very high regard, thinking she's the strongest.

She wasn't chosen to kill the Sins because she was the best for it or just the only option to the Council. No, they sent her because she was most susceptible to them which we shall dive into here. We can actually go about this today in list format and discuss the ways in which Fury has been like, or is like, the Deadly Sins themselves.

Starting off with the easiest,

Pride: Fury holds herself in incredibly high regard at the start, believing she should lead the Horsemen. She genuinely thinks she has the raw power and authority to command her brothers, forgetting that the current leader, Death, is far older and far more powerful than her. Death is near indestructible, able to withstand War ramming Chaoseater through him. Meanwhile, the very leader Fury seeks to usurp specifically made an artifact, Nephalem's Respite, to heal her because she kept getting hurt so much. Fury also seems to believe the others would follow her lead, despite there being no evidence that they would. She shows her ass a lot on conversation with humans and Makers, thinking herself above them and insulting them.

Wrath: Fury is aptly named, being consistently enraged, snappy, and aggressive. While War is temperamental and can become utterly enraged, he is typically pretty level headed. Fury, however, loses her cool constantly. She screams at people, threatens them, and is always ready to attack. Its truly not a wonder that Wrath himself likes her, probably seeing a partner as angry as he.

Sloth: Despite her own claims, Fury is ultimately lazy, though its mostly in her quest for power and authority. Until her game, she's actually seemingly done very little to further her own ambition. She's also very easily lulled into nap time by Sloth because, yes, she is tired. But she's not addressing what's made her feel that way. Consistent, sustained anger, hurt and grief over Rampage, loneliness without her brothers, feelings of unworthiness as she kept not reaching her goal of leading... She is tired of it all, and she does just want to rest and let the world move on without her.

Avarice: Fury is greedy, but not for material items. She craves power and authority. She covets specifically the leadership role Death occupies and is eager to claim it, and hold it. She seeks a lot from others in general, upgrades, items of power and use, information... She's very demanding and seeks to almost hoard things for herself to make herself better. However, she is possibly least suspectable to the manifestation of greed, Avarice himself, because he primarily seeks material items.

Lust: Fury surprisingly seems to have the best understanding of what Lust as an entity and concept is. She explains to the Watcher that lust isn't just what humans interpret, that being a concept of seeking physical intimacy, but a more amorphous concept surrounding desire as an entirety. And as she covets power and the position of leader, so too does she long for it. She's almost desperate for it and she desires it so badly, she almost falls for Lust's illusion of her brothers telling her she's the new leader.

Gluttony: Fury is perhaps the least suspectable to Gluttony as a concept, being that the false food is obviously fake to her. She's not looking to gorge herself, or indulge in much of anything, expect maybe power, but she's not a "stuff my face" kinda gal. In fact, she broke Gluttony's illusion pretty quickly, recognizing it as such almost immediately.

Envy: Jealousy is one of Fury's greatest flaws. She is viciously jealous of the power and confidence her brothers have in themselves. She's jealous of Death's authority, of War's strength, and Strife's confident nature. She's trying to be what she isn't and can't be, which is why Envy is the final boss, why Envy is next to her the entire game. Her greatest flaw and struggle is with jealousy.

All these combined, I think its safe to say, Fury isn't actually all that confident in herself, at least not by the end. Truthfully, I don't think she was ever as confident as she painted herself. I think she masked her insecurity behind bravado and rage.

Let's look at her circumstances and who surrounds her.

One, she's the only woman left of the Nephilim. We don't know how women were treated by the men amongst the Nephilim, but I personally think they were treated the same, as a soldier. However, it is possible women were sought out to forcibly create another generation. We don't know for certain. Regardless, being the singular woman amongst her brothers probably isn't a great feeling.

Two, Wrath says that he and the other sins used to call her the dumb one. Now, Fury is as intelligent as her brothers, however she's much more emotionally charged than them, acting on impulse and rage, and she frequently ignores the finer details until its too late. That isn't to say the boys don't also have blind spots or emotional impulses, they clearly do. Death, for example, ditches all other Balance responsibilities to go erase War's alleged crimes because War someone he cares deeply about.

However Fury being specifically called "the dumb one" would be incredibly hurtful and a big blow to Fury's ego. She seems to believe she's the smartest and strongest of the Four, but to have a being she sees as lesser laugh at her and insult her like that would probably hit her exactly where she hurts most. Its possible she doesn't actually believe she's intelligent, or at least she's buried the idea so far it doesn't crop up until its dredged up again by the events of 3.

Three, she's constantly belittling others. Calling Strife "the delicate one", insulting how Death smells, insulting humans and Ulthane to their faces, treating Vulgrim like crap (not that he's unused to that from the Four, which really, they need to fix lol), and she belittles Usiel for acting to protect his angels. She's frequently using these to draw reaction, or to go " but I'm not like that".

Truthfully, I don't think its until her fight with Lust that she starts to examine herself and her situation. And I think the illusion of her brothers shook her a bit.

For her, leadership is a big goal, but something about the illusion reveals a bit more about her.

For context, in this illusion, Lust is suddenly shot by Strife. The three men approach their sister and explain that they were sent to aid her, but with her as newly appointed leader, so sayeth the Council. What breaks this illusion for her? Her brothers kneeling before her.

Her reaction to this is visceral. Pure rage. Which anger would be understandable at being tricked, but she is righteously pissed about the kneeling. The anger around this is peculiar because until that point, Fury has expressed no care for them, but it seems she cares a lot for her brothers and how they are represented.

Now, I know many will likely argue that her anger is just over being tricked and she's telling Lust off with, "You shouldn't have made them kneel", as if its passive aggressive criticism of his illusion. I would like to argue though, that when Fury has seen through illusions other times (Gluttony's for example), she's smug and will make a comment like that with a lot of smugness. This was pure anger.

This anger tells me that she hasn't truly seen her brothers as subservient and that she actually respects them more than she lets on, and she loathes their depiction as submissive to her will. I also believe this shows she doesn't necessarily want to lead. She just wants to prove herself as better than what others have believed her to be in the past.

(Plus, her Brothers kneeling being the sign it was an illusion is probably linked to the fact that she, War, and Strife probably dont kneel to Death. While Death's the leader, its honestly probably more for group missions or ceremony's sake to them.)

Onto the symbolism in her design! Once more, we may be diving a bit into Biblical symbolism as we did with War.

Firstly, the covers on her ears.

These could very well be linked to a practical desire to protect her ears from the elements, especially when using magic, which ties itself into her hair seamlessly. Symbolically, it shows an unwillingness to listen to others; opinions or reason from others don't go into her ears because she's unwilling to hear anything but what she wants to.

The eye over heart is another interesting design choice. Biblically speaking, we may look to Matthew 20:1-15. In short, "Matthew 20:1-15 is a parable in which a typical Evil Eye accusation is employed to denounce envy as incompatible with life in the kingdom of heaven and detrimental to the community's well-being."(quote from journals.sagepub.com).

This is particularly interesting as Envy is the primary antagonist in Darksiders 3, and once Fury learns the truth and understands clearly the reality, she goes after the embodiment of Envy and relinquishes her own jealousy.

The placement of the eye is also over her heart, symbolically saying she views her situation and life with her heart/emotions over using her head, especially when you consider her own eyes are solid white in color without clear pupils. This gives the impression of her thinking with her heart over her head, thus contributing to her being blind to anything requiring stronger analysis.

By the end of her game, Fury has changed her view on many things. She understands the Council is corrupt, War innocent, humanity must be preserved, and that she's not exactly all that and a bag of chip. She's a bit softer and trying to be better than she was.

Tl;Dr: Fury both a temperamental child and a confident woman, though her confidence boarders on cockiness and her anger outbursts get her into deeper shit than necessary, but she learns better by the end.

[sharp-silver4795]

The Rose Demons

Yup. It’s happening. Whether you like it or not!!!

The 6 Children of Hydra

All of the rose demons come from Hydra, aka the first world. It was ruled by a fox and a deer (imagine like fursona shit, ok).

“Hydra” was not the original name. It was literally called “Home” in the tongue that they spoke “Earth.”

“Kai” means blood, demon, and family. The people of Hydra were originally called a family.

“Hydra” was actually the name of the Fox. “Hydra” to them, means “Life.”

One day, the Hydra noticed that something was… wrong. They all seemed so…. Flat.

They didn’t seem like they had any life to them. Their companion told them that they were over thinking it.

The Deer found, what it called, “the damnation of Earth.” They immediately turned these people into stone, trapped in their expressions of fear.

Then, when Hydra found out. They were furious! They looked at the lives of these innocent souls, and it all made sense…

Their beings could not be seen as real. They lacked a spark that the six lives had.

In anger, Hydra created the first volcano on the highest mountain of the land. The peak exploded with fire, metal, and blood.

Soon, everything was destroyed. They confronted the deer and decapitated it with their hands, carving out its skull with metal from their fury.

The deer was never named, it now rests in a fourth destination after death.

Hydra reserves this destination for those who sinned against their children.

Who were those 6 souls? What did they do?

Leviathan knew what he could do and pushed himself harder. He wanted to improve and succeed. He had ambitions and dreams.

Beelzebub took it to his own hands to meet his needs. He watched the need of others, and catered to them so that they would not suffer, almost like charity.

Lucifer was described to have an identity of his own. He walked knowing his name, mind, and body more than anyone else.

Asmodeus had found please in reproduction and even helped others find beauty and happiness in it. She had seen it as a gift and a way to express herself and her feelings to a partner. She was known to have intimacy with men and mostly women.

Mammon, like Beelzebub, saw to it that her needs were met while caring for others. But she had put it on a material level. When she felt she was presentable, she loved making others feel that way! She wanted to share the feeling of looking good, clean, and happy, makes you feel those as well.

Belphegor slept more than necessary (took naps) and would feel better afterwards. She wouldn’t feel as stressed or overwhelmed after her “little sleeps.”

The Rest of the Story

After seeing what they had done, Hydra tore its own body apart- making it stone. However, being immortal, their skeleton was removed from the body of stone.

They noticed how, though everything was gone, the “nature” stayed and the six-stone-souls stayed.

From their own statue, they created one last soul: Satanus, the side of Hydra that was fueled to destruction by fury.

Where did the “sin” part come in?

These entities and their names were used wrongly by humanity.

Their language has two words for “human:” Sin and Sha. “Sha” is mostly used as a slur or insult, “Sin” is used as a description or characteristic.

What happened to them?

They were brought back in the forms of the original rose demons.

Their “sins” were not the same as we think.

In their language, the names of the sins are not the same:

“Envy” is motivation.

“Gluttony” is hunger and suffering.

“Pride” is confidence and individuality.

“Lust” is love and sexuality.

“Greed” is enthusiasm and interest.

“Sloth/Laziness” is care.

And, surprisingly…

“Wrath” is morality.

Divider Creds: Sister Lucifer

Reqs and Asks are Open!!

[sapphiel]

The Nine Lucifers, a bunch of demons that committed crimes and atrocities to the denizens of the Seven Circles of Hell. More info down below~

Archibald, the Lucifer of Limbo, punished for his desire of a union between Hell and Heaven, a thought no other demon would share with him. After a plea to both sides have failed, he was deemed a traitor of Hell and had since been banished into a separate realm outside of it. But with some strong willpower, and extra spatial awareness, he had managed to turn the realm into a neutral area where any and all entities, be they demon, angel, or mortal, can enter and relax in. Named the Purgatorium, being within its confines will also affect one with a pacifistic spell that prevents any sort of hostile actions being taken.

Jezieka, the Lucifer of Lust, punished not for a crime that she had committed, but her lover's. But it was not an act of sabotage or deception, but a willing sacrifice. Jezieka's lover, Sarah, had a livelihood and a hobby that involved indulging herself in the literal taste of other demons' flesh that she could not bear to end. Jezieka, unable to either help her end her addiction nor ease her worries of losing her life, she offered herself to be branded as the Lucifer in her stead. In an esoteric ritual that the couple had committed to symbolize and sanctify each other's mutual love, Jezieka had offered her eyes to her lover, as a promise that she may never look at another person's face again, and that Sarah's would be the last she'd ever see. Sarah, meanwhile, had offered her womb, promising that she may not harbor another person's love nor lust within herself. Lady Vylke, the Lucifer of Gluttony, and the Lady of Harvest in Villam, also known as the Circle of Gluttony. Her title gives her the authority and responsibility of managing the resources that sprout from Villam, which are then shipped to the other six circles. Her importance to Hell's economy prevents her from being truly punished as a Lucifer, of which she was branded for consuming demon flesh in copious amounts indiscriminately, so much so that those that demand to see her must offer her a gift for her to consume, lest they be consumed themselves. Placed under house arrest, Lady Vylke manages Villam from the safety of her manor, still satiating herself with the occasional unfortunate soul every now and then. Though some say she wasn't always like this, and was a fun normal (as for demon standards) individual for the most part...

Tytus and Dima, the Lucifers of Greed, infamous for their dastardly deeds of raiding ultra secure banks within Fodere, also known as the Circle of Greed. Tytus, hailing from Auctoritas, the Circle of Pride and demonic law, knows his way through legal loopholes to avoid capture for so long, while his wife, Dima, a native of Fodere, knows the ins and outs of high security vaults and locations of potential treasure. But after having the overly ambitious idea of raiding a Fodere bank (which is something not even other Fodere residents would even THINK of doing), they were captured and branded. Forced to stay physically together by a holy bond, the two remain as thieves that trek the lands of Fodere, however they are now always on the run, and sometimes leap between the Circles, but are now unable to keep any treasure strictly to themselves, rather having to share them, much to their dismay.

Ariel, the Lucifer of Anger, found herself being subdued by both angel and demon, after being sent to a vicious state of extreme fury. Supressed and branded with angelic seals, she was exiled from the Circles for everyone's safety. However, despite being tempered by said seals, Ariel is a barely restrained core of seething white-hot rage in each and every single waking moment, always on the verge of snapping but unable to truly unleash her wrath. Stories were passed that her fury was because of a betrayal of a lover... who most certainly must regret their actions to this day.

The Lucifer of Heresy, whose name had been lost to time, urged all demons of Hell to break its treaty with Heaven to overthrow the angels and set demons back to their former glory. However, after being faced with too much backlash and criticism, Heresy had set her sights no longer against the angels, but her fellow demonic kin instead. After slaying one too many naysayers, Heresy was branded and exiled from hell, her disfigurement so great that she no longer even remembers her own face, and her insult to the superiors of Hell so strong that they have wiped her name clean from both records and minds of herself and any witnesses, doomed to be a faceless nameless creature shrouded in darkness.

Red Lady, the Lucifer of Violence, is the embodiment of an instigator. Where there is strife to be had, there will be Red Lady, the start of it all. She thrives off of conflict, creating it whenever she can, and after demonkind had taken notice of her antics, she was branded and exiled. In addition to these, her body had become extremely frail and weak. No longer able to directly cause conflict herself, she has learned to instead manipulate and trick others around her, gaining a metaphorical silver tongue in the process. Now wreaking havoc in the mortal plane, there had been rumors spreading that major events in that realm were actually caused by Red Lady herself, wearing a facade.

Adarahiel, the Lucifer of Fraud, a compulsive liar and manipulator, having spent centuries deceiving her kin with a mask she so meticulously crafted so that she will be perceived as a kind and caring individual, when she was anything but. Now, deceiving the commonfolk is no severe crime, but after tricking the wrong person at the wrong time for the wrong things, Adarahiel was captured, convicted, and branded. In addition, an angelic sword had cleaved her upper body in twain, but instead of perishing instantly, she instead found her two halves regenerating, forming new flesh. Her head, formerly two halves, now two full ones, but one gained the personality of the mask she had created for herself, the other her true self, forced to gaze into and keep company the mask she had fabricated.

Abaddon, the Lucifer of Treachery, the lowest of the low, a soul so ancient that he had grown tired of this existence. He wants to end it all, and see something new, and to achieve that, he must find an angel to bear his seed to create a spawn that bears the blood of both angel and demon. Such a creature would bear strength and power that even gods would fear, and with this power, Abaddon would finally have the means to make his dream a reality. After convincing an angel to bear his child, his plan would've slowly started to come into fruition... if it wasn't for the angel to catch wind of his schemes. After a heated argument, she ended her own life, but scattering the essence of her child away from Hell, onto the mortal plane. Not one to give up, however, Abaddon had set his sights onto where mortals tread, determined to find the child that was rightfully his and use their strength to burn this reality down, and create something new from its ashes. All this child had to do... was let him in.

[mittensmorgul]

One Working Part | Rated E | 40k words

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Inspired by It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural), Angst and Fluff and Smut, POV Alternating, Not Canon Compliant with Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural)

Summary: A rewrite of 15.19 Inherit the Earth, wherein they actually inherit the earth. Again. Because I will never be done retelling the end of their story in more sensible and satisfying ways. This time, via the power of a classic holiday film... with a slightly demonic twist.

Way back just after the holidays, I was talking with @greywrenn about how Cas really needed his own Clarence Intervention, his own Guardian Angel trying to earn their wings. Cas spent so long counseling Jack and assuring him he was loved, and nobody ever turned around and did the same for him. He really needed to see it for himself. And we decided the guardian angel should actually be a demon… and now months later, we have this.

The action picks up right at the end of 15.18 Despair.

Read it all now on ao3, or below the cut for the first bit of Chapter 1:

“No! Absolutely not. Not one single thing more!” the Entity yelled as Cas emerged from the tendrils of inky blackness that had snatched him from the bunker and delivered him as promised for an eternity of oblivion. Only, the expected oblivion had been preempted by an onslaught of wrath. “No, wait, two things more?!” The Entity that ruled over the Empty peered around Cas and stared in fury. “And you?!”

“Me,” Billie replied from behind Cas.

The sound of her voice had him turning on his heel rather than keeping his back to a being he’d now effectively killed twice. It had all seemed like an excellent, if tragic plan five minutes earlier. Cas had assumed he and Billie would be delivered to the Empty in the same state of unconsciousness he’d experienced the previous time he’d arrived there. There wasn’t supposed to be an immediate confrontation. He frowned, shaken from his euphoria over having finally confessed his love and then instantly making the ultimate sacrifice for Dean, and began a quick reassessment of every life choice he’d ever made.

“None of this was supposed to happen,” Cas muttered, taking a few steps back from both of them and looking between the Entity and Billie in confusion. “What is happening?”

The Entity spun around, still wearing Meg’s appearance like a slightly uncomfortable skin and pointed menacingly at Cas. “This one is asking the real questions. But the two of you have all the answers. You did this. You made it loud enough to crack the walls, and all sorts of things are leaking out.” The Entity let a smug little grin spread across its borrowed features and raised an eyebrow at Billie’s gruesome wound. “Though it looks like you sprung a leak as well.”

Cas turned to Billie, and the two of them frowned at one another as the Entity morphed into a different form. One Billie recognized immediately and recoiled from instantly.

“Yes, Death dying is an old trick, even if you’re not quite dead yet,” it said, now using the face of the previous incarnation of Death. “And Dean Winchester seems to have a knack for it. We obviously can’t let that stand. You know that’s a loophole that someone will try to exploit for nefarious purposes.”

“Death?” Billie asked, unsure if it was still the Entity or if her old boss had stepped up to have a chat.

The entity rolled its eyes. “Of course not. You’re still technically Death. I’m still little old me, but even more desperate to get back to sleep than I was the last time either of you darkened my doorstep. The point stands that you lied to me. You promised order would be restored, and it’s only grown more chaotic and fractured.”

Cas watched on, eyebrows knitted, trying to piece together what he was clearly missing from their conversation. He turned to Billie.

“Your plan with Jack, you made some sort of deal with the Empty?”

Billie nodded slowly, not taking her eyes from the entity currently embodying her old boss and looking at her the same way he used to look at Dean, with a strange sort of amused disapproval.

“I promised to help Jack heal the cracks his birth brought about, that Chuck has been exploiting ever since. He’d never had the power to touch the Empty before that, but he hasn’t been able to keep his fingers out of the cookie jar ever since he discovered those vulnerabilities.”

Cas’s frown deepened as he put the pieces together. “So your plan was to simply kill God?”

Billie shook her head, like she was doubting even the foundations of that whole plan now. “He kept pushing. Kept interfering with the natural order. There wasn’t a reset button big enough to bring it all back into balance. He was the source of the entire disruption.”

“He’s also the source of the natural order to begin with,” Cas reminded her. “Without him, there’s nothing to reset.”

Billie turned on him so fast that Cas recoiled from her. She still held her scythe, and Cas wasn’t sure whether the two of them were even technically dead yet since they were still standing there having a chat like any normal Thursday. His reaction gave him a split-second pause to find the part of him that— above all else— wanted to live. Since he’d just effectively forfeited his own life, it wouldn’t do any good to dwell on it in that moment, but he wasn’t about to shove that impulse down and bury it just yet, either. There was still the matter of what the hell was even happening— and why he'd somehow been included in the proceedings— to sort out.

“God’s power can’t be killed, but the conscious entity controlling that power sure can be. It just needs a vessel capable of containing it.”

Cas’s heart skipped a beat as he finally grasped what Billie had been trying to accomplish. That little pang of longing to live got another dose of reinforcement at so human a reaction, but again he forced himself to ignore all of that again. No point in suddenly growing a will to live with the full fury of Death and the embodiment of the eternal afterlife bearing down him.

“You were molding Jack into that vessel,” he said in horrified wonder. “You wanted to hollow him out and shove all the power of creation into him instead.” He grasped for understanding, and a way to put something so unaccountable into words. “To turn him into an Occultum. That’s what all the tasks you had him complete were about. Making him into your ultimate weapon against God. And it had all been a lie…”

“What do you mean?” Billie asked. “I did everything his book said, it should’ve worked!”

Cas shook his head, shoving down his alarm at what he was slowly beginning to realize had happened. “Writers lie, and Chuck is the author of all of this. He’s the reason we’re both here right now, instead of back on Earth fighting back against his story.” Cas ran both hands through his hair and down his face in frustration. “He finally managed to rip both of us from his pages, and we both walked willingly into it.”

“He has no power over his own destiny,” Billie replied. “He can’t read his own fate, only Death can.”

“He didn’t need to read it,” the entity replied. “He just had to write his own ending and his fate would comply with his intent. That’s how your books work, right?”

Billie stared in horror, finally realizing how she’d been manipulated into serving Chuck’s will against the greater order of the universe. The full futility and despair of her situation washed over her as she slowly raised her hand and examined the damage inflicted by her own scythe. It hadn’t spread further since they’d landed in the Empty, but it also hadn’t miraculously healed itself, either.

Cas frowned at it, and resisted the impulse to offer to heal her. In all likelihood, the offer would be unwelcome, and worse, even if Billie was willing to let him try, Cas had no reason to believe he actually could. Before he could decide what to do, she shook her hand out and stood tall before the Entity.

“Did you know that all along? And let me carry out all those plans anyway?”

The Entity shrugged. “I might’ve suspected, yes, but either way it would’ve achieved the objective of sealing my domain off from his interference, one way or another. And you and Jack seemed so determined…” The Entity waved one hand in a little circle.

Cas couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “How do you think it would’ve achieved that objective if you were willing to let Chuck win? Do you think he intends to make things less chaotic for you once he annihilates the rest of creation? Or do you think he’ll need a new toy to break when he’s bored and the Empty is the only thing he has left?”

The Empty sighed and rolled its eyes, which sent a shiver down Cas’s spine because he’d seen that exact reaction on Death’s face once before, when he’d been under the delusion that he was the new god so many years ago. Something was different about it coming from the Entity.

“He will have run his course, finished his story, closed down all of creation. He’s nearly done, if my calculations are accurate. And then the whole cycle can begin again.”

“Cycle?” Cas asked, feeling a chill for an entirely new reason. “He’s done this before?”

“More times than I can count. Big bang, big crunch, heat deaths of multiverses, a slow freeze thrown in here and there, you name it, he’s experimented with it. Mostly he leaves me alone, but the balance of power shifts back and forth like a cosmic tide. He’ll raid the Empty, cause a big explosion and a lot of havoc,” the Entity added with a glare at Billie for having done just that with Jack, “scoop up what he needs and remake himself in a new image to start over again. And then I’ll be able to sleep in peace until he starts growing bored again. This time he seems to have cheated a bit, though. The whole middleman scenario is a new one… Like he's trying to bypass the whole letting go of his power part of this dance.”

The entity crossed its arms, tapping one finger to its chin and walking in slow circles, pondering all of that as if there were still pieces missing from the puzzle. It gave Cas and Billie a few seconds to exchange panicked glances. They’d both been duped, and if they’d known any of this before they certainly wouldn’t have made the deals they had, and neither of them would be trapped in the Empty now— dead or dying, and unable to warn Sam and Dean.

Continue reading on ao3

[pin-crusher2000]

Injustice: SuperMoves

Here’s the supermoves that I have come up with for the characters of Earth-66.

FireWing (Jake Grayson)

StarBolt Fist: does a short range StarBolt “shockwave blast” stunning the opponent to start it. Jake then throws a smoke bomb in their face to distract them & then does the spilts & punches them in the crotch, causing the opponent to hold that area. Jake does a backwards roll back onto his feet, charges up a StarBolt & runs & punches the opponent causing a green explosion.

NightStar (Mar’i Grayson)

StarBolt Fury: Mar’i flys at the opponent with a double fist punch. She then uppercuts the opponent, sending them to space & mar’i unleashes some starbolts at them. After that, she quickly fly past the opponent & charges up a StarBolt in her hand & presses the energy ball into her opponent sending them back down to earth.

ThunderHeart (Irey West)

Better than the West: Irey shoulder charges her opponent. She then strikes her opponent multiple times with her super speed, & the camera gets real close to the opponent’s face, & on the side shows Irey’s. Irey then gives the opponent a wedgie, & she giggles.

Surge (Jai West)

Here comes the Boom: Jai unleashes lighting onto the ground to hit the opponent. He then rubs his hands together really fast to create electricity & starts thunderclapping at the opponent saying: you’ll get a thunderclap!

WonderBoy (Robert Long)

Bring the Thunder: Robert does a dashing slash at the opponent. Robert then gains blue electric hair & eyes & tackles the opponent (raiden’s move from MK) & flys them into the air. He quickly moves above his opponent & says: “Thunder!” A lightning strike hits the opponent & sends them back to the ground.

Red Cat (Lian Harper)

Bow-and-Baton: Lian does a baton spin at the opponent. Lian shoots a boxing glove arrow at the opponent’s face, sending them onto their back, & Lian gets on top of them & starts hitting them with her baton. (Yup that’s it XD)

Kid Tempest (Cerdian)

Purple Pain: Cerdian launches a water ball at the opponent. Cerdian shoots fire at the opponent, knocking them on their back, he then jumps up into the air & shoots purple laser beams causing an explosion.

SunSlinger (Jon Kent)

Sun-Noon: Jon does a super/freeze breath at the opponent. Jon whips out his revolvers, twirls them & aims the opponent, (camera shirts to fps) Jon moves the gun & shoots the opponent: foot, knee, & shoulder, knocking them onto their back. Jon then superleap towards them & charges up his gun & launches two shots at them causing an explosion.

Robin V (Damian Wayne)

Lazarus Assassin: pretty much Damian’s super move from injustice 2 but with a green aura around him XD

WonderLad (Hunter Trevor)

Pretty much the same as Robert��s but red/orange; god of war mode. Shouts War & a meteor hits his opponent.

AquaBoy (Arthur Curry Jr.)

Pretty much Aquaman’s super move from injustice 2 but with a megaldon shark instead.

HawkBoy (Hector Hall)

Sky Hawk: Hector does a downward slam with his mace, hitting the opponent. Hector grabs the opponent & takes them to the sky, & starts hitting them with his mace in different directions. (hawk girls super move from injustice)

Green Canary (Connor Lance Queen)

The Green Canary (XD): Connor does a short burst canary cry & hits the opponent. Connor shoots a bomb arrow into the sky & another at the opponent knocking them on their back, connor then uses the canary cry on top of the opponent & then jumps away to safety when the other bomb arrow comes down to hit the opponent causing an explosion.

PhantomWing (Chris Kent)

The Nightwing: Chris does a short burst heat vision that hits the opponent. Chris then wraps his opponent’s legs with his dark powers & slams them on the ground behind him & back in front of him. Chris flys into the air & summons the NightWing entity & it shoots out a giant blue & black ball of “dark flames” at the opponent causing a blue explosion.

StarChild (Otho-Ra)

Star Wrath: Otho-Ra does a flying blue energy “Superman punch” hitting the opponent. Otho then summons a blue energy sword & a shield that’s in an S symbol shape & begins to attack the opponent with them. After shield bashing her opponent, knocking them fall on their back, she jumps up into the air & shoots out blue heat vision at the opponent causing an explosion.

Red Son (Osul-Ra)

Fight Master Fury: Osul-Ra does a flying red energy “Superman punch” hitting the opponent. Osul-Ra summons a red energy battle axe & begins hacking at the opponent. After the final hit, the opponent is laying down on their back & Osul jumped into the air & slammed the battle axe onto the opponent, causing a red explosion.

Valor (Connor Kent)

Brave Rage: connor does a short range telekinetic blast & hits the opponent. Connor then grabs the opponent & flys to the glaciers & slams the opponent into it, & starts rapidly punch the opponent as fast as he can. He then finishes the beat down with a blast of heat vision causing an explosion. (The beat down at the glacier is from the tv series Young Justice where superboy beats down mammoth.)

Animal Girl (Maxine Baker)

Red Rage: just cheetah/vixen’s super move from injustice 2 but with a red energy glow around her.

Animal Boy (Clifford Baker)

Same as his sister’s.

Red Bird (Mara Al Ghul)

Demon Assassin: pretty much just like Damian’s but with a red aura.

Nobody (Maya Ducard)

Nobody Assault: Maya does a short burst Sonic blast at the opponent. Maya takes out a sword & starts slashing the opponent, & then turns invisible. The camera shifts towards the opponent & shows Maya behind them. She then kicks the opponent in the crotch, dropping them to their knees & Sonic blasts between their head. (One hand on one side & another hand on the other side.)

Beacon (Kathy Branden)

Purple-Telekinetic: Kathy does a short range telekinetic blast to hit the opponent. She then lifts & throws the opponent into the air (with the background changing to a farm) & quickly flys above the opponent & blasts them down. Kathy then does a massive shockwave released from her Body.

Crowly (Colin Wilkes)

Pretty much his “punch fatality” from the mortal kombat post of mine except more kid friendly. (He does get big & grabs the opponent & “super-punches” them across the screen to start it.)

FlameBird (Suren Darga)

Flaming FlameBird (XD): Suren does a short range fire blast at the opponent. Suren “summons” the FlameBird & they both grab the opponent & fly up into the air, the FlameBird does a pose in front of the sun & then Suren does a energy wave sending the opponent to the ground with a FlameBird logo. (Think of Liu Kang’s dragon symbol after you preform his fatal blow from MK1)

[narwhalandchill]

ok so childes poor mood. lets discuss. i may be a bit insane at the moment but like. listen. hear me out.

(4.2 spoilers/leaks further down, will put a read more,)

so in act I childe divulges that hes been experiencing spikes of feeling like hes in a "terrible mood" and just been in a generally bad mood lately (highly unusual for him in general, mind you) in addition to feeling a power stirring in himself. he also directly mentions being in a bad mood during the act II trial as well - so like sure, its clearly reccurring at this point.

anyway. be it irritability, short-temperedness, anger, yeah, label it whatever - its not the specifics i care abt. the thing i really am quite curious about is how this overlaps with the emotional state of something else.

because you know what else is in a decisively bad mood as well? something that just happens to literally share a metaphysical bond with ajax going all the way back to when he was 14? the thing with a coincidentally telepathic connection to childe that called for him from the primordial sea?

yup. 'it'. good ol' abyssal sky beast. the heaven-devouring celestial narwhal. childes constellations namesake. appears to be malding quite severely as of recently.

"a tsunami of fury" capable of unleashing "endless catastrophe" is how neuvillette describes the force contained within the primordial seawater surging to merupide. like just a casually world-ending primal, ancient rage outright. funny how that goes eh? very curious words chosen there neuvillette. huge fan personally.

anyway this is where i get abysspilled. beware

sooo might the origin of childes increasingly worsening mood just be his strengthening mental connection to the whale and as a consequence its emotions as well? is this seemingly inexplicable and intensifying bad mood simply him beginning to share and resonate with the wrath 'it' holds towards whatever original sin the fontainians are tainted by and that the prophecy is the retribution for? maybe theyre just starting to vibe together. ever think about that huh.

also. if their emotions are already blending together and becoming one and the same. what is the true nature of their connection really?

(same entity allegations Not being dodged. i am sooo normal over this)

and now to add extra bonus context with the forbidden leeks - the whales anger is no fucking joke its literally central to its literal in-game combat mechanic

in the 4.2 boss leaks we see that the whale has a stacking mechanic called rage. which it will accumulate during the fight and once capped trigger the secondary fight phase with. youre literally fighting it as it goes absolute batshit in its rage.

so yeah. this thing is ANGY.

[josephseedismyfather]

Last Line+ Tag

I was tagged by @inafieldofdaisies and @socially-awkward-skeleton for my absolute favorite tag. Thank you much my friends! 😘

In a shocking turn of events, Johnny started talking to me. These are the last of the first words I've written in months. His fic is just starting, so who knows if this will go anywhere and if it does, it certainly won't end up like this. My writing process is all over the place. Completely unedited, not ready to go.

Untitled John WIP.

The room seemed to shrink around John as he felt the weight of his parents' disappointment pressing down upon him. They loomed over him, their faces contorted with anger and disbelief. It was as though a crushing weight was settled on his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, sparing him from the impending tempest of their wrath. He felt like a fragile vase teetering on the edge of a table, one small push away from shattering into a million pieces.

His mother unleashed a storm of condemnation. Her voice, a thunderous torrent, struck him like lightning. "John, how could you possibly do this to us? We’ve raised you better than this!"

The words hit John like a tidal wave, and his knees felt like they might give way at any moment. His fear took the form of an icy grip around his heart, squeezing tighter with each word his mother uttered. He stammered, desperately searching for an explanation, but his voice cracked under the pressure of his parents' fury.

His father joined the chorus of anger, his deep, booming tones like a relentless battering ram. "We've always expected the best from you, John. This is not acceptable, not in this house!" John's vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. He felt as though he were drowning in a sea of disappointment and shame. The room seemed to close in around him, and his parents' voices became a relentless onslaught of criticism.

His fear was a visceral, all-consuming entity. It wasn't just a feeling; it was a suffocating presence, a relentless beast tearing at his insides. In that moment, he felt like a wounded animal trapped in a corner, with no way out.

His mother's voice rose to an ear-piercing crescendo, and John's head spun as though caught in a whirlwind. He wished he could disappear, fade into the background, become invisible. But there was no escape from the furious scrutiny of his parents.

He knew what came next.

Tagging, with apologies for doubles and no pressure, as always: @wrathfulrook, @trench-rot, @cassietrn, @redreart, @hotmessteaparty, @g0dspeeed, @v0idbuggy, @insanityofvaas, @silenthqll, @simplegenius042, @malefiquinn, @strangefable, @noodlecupcakes, @neverthesameneveranother, @chazz-anova, and anyone else who wants to share. Tag me! 😘

[misteria247]

Aka let's add Rottmnt Krang Invasion to the Reincarnated au oop-

This is the 5th time that he's made it to adulthood.

The 5th time that he'd grown older without all of his brothers and friends and father by his side.

When did it ever end?

The older turtle stared at the blood red skies, the ships of the Krang hanging over the wasteland that was once New York City like an ominous entity. Quietly bidding its time before it finally struck them all down like a wrathful god. Mikey felt a familiar disgust build up from within him, recalling all of his past memories of the interdimensional species known as the Krang. From his very first life, this alien race has been a reoccurring threat. Becoming more and more dangerous with each new cycle. The old ninjutsu master can still recall the other life he'd been in.

The one when he'd been small and covered in freckles.

He can still remember it. The Kraang and their bomb full of mutagen. The moment when Leo, his big brother, his leader had sacrificed himself to protect him, Raph and Donnie. Right as the bomb went off, mutating all the innocent lives at that moment and ruining the world as they knew it. Could still recall his time in the wastelands, slightly delirious and older than he should be. Separated from his brothers, his beloved friends April and Casey dead from the bomb. It had been a horror show.

He should have known that he would end up having another future where they would take everything he loved away from him.

Mikey shook himself out of his memories of a life that no longer existed, instead focusing on his current mission. The mystic warrior was searching for Leo and Casey Jr, the trio having gotten separated during a routine patrol. It made him anxious being away from his older brother and practical son. The last time he and his brothers had been separated it hadn't ended well.

Flashes of a red brother slaughtered in the beginning of this nightmare, of being murdered by a supposed ally in another life, of dying by an explosion in another one and losing his memories in the last one before this one.

Memories of a purple brother who died inside of a Krang base in this life, of being ambushed in Japan alongside their father and slain in another life, of disappearing without a trace in another, and of a bomb that caused his body to deteriorate in the last one.

Glimpses of a blue brother whose arm was torn away from his body in this life, of being the leader of a rebellion and saving several refugees lives alongside Casey only to be blown to smithereens in one life, of being blinded and then blown up once again in another one, to being double mutated in the last one.

Mikey forced himself to move faster, floating around to try and find the last two remaining members of his family besides April and Draxum. It was then that he had heard it. A shout, familiar and full of panic and anguish.

"CASEY-!!!"

'Leo.'

Mikey didn't hesitate to rush into the direction of the shout, practically bursting onto the scene in a orange flurry of chains and mystics. And what he saw made him freeze.

Leo was on the ground, his side bleeding from being struck by one of the Krang's demonic dogs. The older red eared slider was trying to force himself up, desperately trying to get to the younger boy that had been cornered by the monstrous being. Casey Jr was trying to keep the Krang canine away from him, his chainsaw hockey stick alive and whirling. However this beast wasn't backing down, instead snapping its jaws at the teen. Ready to devour him. It was seeing this that made the mystic master snap. Fury, old and bitter and murderous filled him, ignited by several past lives that had carried this wrathful vengeance. Lives of his rebellion days as a leader with no arm, lives of a suicidal, vengeful ronin who would not rest until he dragged the hell spawn of the Oroku bloodline down with him. He saw the panicked but defiant look on Casey Jr's face, his grey eyes hardened at the beast before him. Flashes of another teenager, a girl who was also a Casey who carried the same defiance in her very being. Who just like Casey Jr, had had her parent torn away from her by the enemy. Images of Casey and Cassandra's faces flashed through his head, and it fueled the rage he felt.

'I won't let them take my family. I won't stand by and let these monsters think that they can get away with it.'

The thought hissed, dangerous and poisonous. The mystic warrior reacted on pure instinct. Chains, bright and alight with flames that ran hotter than the fires of hell flew towards the Krang canine. They gripped it, before Mikey with a swift motion of his hands pulled it away from Casey Jr and Leo, who had let out shouts of surprise of his name out, and threw the monster as hard as he could. The sounds of the host's body crunching from the pure force of the slam, filled the air. And then it came.

The Krang canine screamed in agony.

Flames, bright and full of an ugly need for vengeance consumed the demonized dog, burning it up in mystics. But Mikey didn't care, he would continue to burn this thing until nothing was left besides its ashes.

'I'll kill it, I'll kill them all if I have to. There will be no mercy for them, even if it fucking kills me-'

The older turtle's thoughts hissed and screamed, consuming him like the flames that he fed. He was going to make the Krang suffer, he wasn't going to let them get away with this, not when they'd taken his father. Not when they'd taken Raph and Donnie and Cass. He would make them regret being born-

"MASTER MICHELANGELO STOP!"

"MIKEY IT'S DEAD YOU'RE GONNA BURN YOURSELF OUT STOP!"

Two voices shouted out and it made Mikey's blood boil in his wrath. Who dared tried to stop him? The ninjutsu master's head snapped towards the source of the voices, his light brown hues, once kind and bright and warm, now soulless and full of the thirst for vengeance and several decades of pent up rage that spanned over literal lifetimes dead set on the sources before he saw them.

Leo who looked downright unnerved and shaken.

Casey Jr who looked rattled and slightly terrified.

Those looks snapped Mikey out of it.

The chains disappeared immediately, the flames dying out as if they never existed in the first place. The charred remains of the beast that had attacked Leo and Casey Jr being all that was left behind. Mikey felt his stomach sink and nausea hit him.

"I......I didn't mean, oh God-"

The younger turtle began to shutter only to feel two pairs of arms wrap around him.

"It's okay, we're okay Mike. Let's just get out of here, I need to be treated anyways."

Leo said already leaning somewhat on the other turtle.

"We know you didn't mean to do it Master Michelangelo. It's okay now, it's done and over with. So let's go home please?"

Casey Jr piped in, trying to distract the older turtle from the wreckage he'd made. Mikey just swallowed, his throat tight and tongue thick as he grabbed onto Leo. The trio then began to make the painstaking journey back towards the base, a silence falling upon them. Mikey didn't say a word, instead getting lost in the whirlwind of emotions. He didn't mean to lose his temper, didn't mean to be so vicious. But at the moment he hadn't cared. And it wasn't the first time he'd snapped in this manner either. There was plenty of moments where he'd gone a bit too far, had thrown an enemy harder than necessary. Had been rougher and more angrier than he should have been with them. And each time he snapped out of it, he was hit with horror at what he had done. It was a scary thing, losing his head and having emotions from not only this lifetime, but all the ones that came before overwhelm him in this way. The fury and vengeance of several lifetimes that thirst for the blood of those who had harmed his family.

But the thing that scared him the most was that he also felt a feeling of satisfaction.

If their enemies were afraid of him, then they'd think twice before messing with his family. But he'd never tell that to anyone.

[darkheliotrope]

The First World:

The distant planet hung like a bruised jewel in the cosmic tapestry - a place forgotten by the gods, forsaken by light. Its shoreline was a threshold to madness, where the sea clawed at the rocky shore with relentless fury. Here, the veil between worlds was thin, and the whispers of ancient horrors echoed through the salt-laden winds.

The Sea:

The sea was no mere expanse of water; it was a living entity - a tempest of wrath and hunger. Its waves rose like skeletal hands, gnashing at the jagged rocks. Each crest bore the weight of eons, carrying with it the memories of civilizations long extinct. The foam churned with malevolence, and within its depths lay the remnants of forgotten gods - petrified and calcified, their forms twisted into grotesque sculptures.

The Shore:

The rocky shore was a graveyard of cosmic aberrations. Alien fossils jutted from the earth like broken spines, vertebrae of beings that defied reason. Their eye sockets stared into infinity, hollow and accusing. The bones were not ivory white but obsidian black, etched with glyphs that whispered forbidden truths. To tread upon this shore was to invite madness - a descent into the abyssal unknown.

The Sunset:

As the sun dipped below the horizon, it bled crimson across the sky - a wound that refused to heal. Its dying light cast elongated shadows, stretching the alien fossils into grotesque caricatures. The sea, now aflame, devoured the sun’s remnants - a feast for the insatiable hunger that dwelled within its depths. The air tasted of rust and decay, and the very rocks seemed to writhe.

The Celestial Dance:

Above, the stormy sky was a theatre of cosmic chaos. Meteorites streaked across the firmament, their fiery trails illuminating the darkness. Comets, harbingers of doom, blazed with malefic intent. Distant planets loomed like ancient sentinels; their surfaces scarred by aeons of cosmic warfare. And the constellations—twisted and unfamiliar - seemed to rearrange themselves, spelling out cryptic prophecies.

The Pinnacle Rocks:

The pinnacle rock formations defied gravity. They rose like jagged spires, their tips lost in the roiling clouds. Each pinnacle bore a name whispered by the wind: The Needle of Despair, The Fangs of the Void, The Serrated Crown. These were no natural formations; they were the remnants of forgotten deities, petrified in their final moments of wrath. To touch them was to glimpse eternity - a maddening kaleidoscope of suffering.

And so, as the last vestiges of light surrendered to the abyss, I stood on that accursed shore. The sea howled, the fossils wept, and the sky pulsed with eldritch energies. The veil quivered, and I wondered: What secrets lay beyond? What horrors awaited those who dared to step into the void?

And as the first star blinked into existence, I stepped forward, my footsteps swallowed by the hungry earth. The shoreline embraced me - a lover’s grip - and I descended into the nightmare, my sanity unravelling like the fabric of reality itself.

But I had come seeking answers - to unravel the mysteries of this forsaken planet.

Electra sent me here, where is she going to send me to next - and what horrors will I behold?