#by forcing himself to call fool beloved. he’s forced to name it!!!

[venndaai]

oh fuck me! I didn’t know that quote was from this book! I wasn’t prepared! Oh god oh god.

[acupofinkedblood]

Illumina x artisan reader [My Divine Lotus]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Why would you ignore him?

That is for the lack of better word, unless Illumina wants to use ‘disregard’, but then again it might be too harsh when he uses such devastating word to mention his beloved. Yet he just can’t shake that thought off his mind. As much as Illumina wants to reassure himself that you won’t do something so discourteous like that, he just can’t help himself. You are ignoring him, he isn’t seeing things or being paranoid

When it was under other circumstances, you would always reach out for him first. He doesn’t need your prayers to be aware of when you are yearning for him, just his name alone is enough for him to drop anything troubles his presence to be by your side. None of his followers have the grace to have such privilege like you, to be able to summon a deity just through a whisper under your breath. Of course, Illumina can just appear near you as he pleases, yet his pride doesn’t allow him to act so rashly like that. He needs an excuse, so he can rely on it to be by your side. He even mesmerizes the certain time when you usually call out for him. Even when you’re just talking to yourself with the thoughts of him in your mind, Illumina still knows it and appears right away to give you a piece of his mind without missing a beat. But now? You haven’t reach out to him for days

Illumina has to rumble through his memory to see if you are mad at him or what. Sure, sometimes he still does things behind your back — specifically those times he bothered your friends because they were too close to you to his liking, or just went ahead and took care of your foes when they were invading your peace — but it is all for your sake. Besides, he has stopped doing the first said thing because of how upset you were with him. Illumina is positive that he has not crossed any mortal with close association with you out of spite this whole time being. Then what is it that you are bothered about? You can’t just forget about him because of your works, right? There is no way you will commit such cruel act

And to make it worse, you have taken off the charm he has given you. It makes it almost impossible for him to sense your presence, as he usually relies on that amulet carved by his own feather and magic to be aware when danger is lurking near you. Of course, he also uses that to keep tab on you. Illumina does that so he can keep you safe. Why did you even take it off, which you have never done before? If someone tries to take the charm away from you with force, he will be aware of it right away to punish that fool. But he knows that you have taken it off by yourself, leaving it in your bedroom for a long while without coming back to pick it up again

The almighty Illumina is confused. Where is it that you have stayed if not your own room for your slumber? He has made a guess that you might be inside your workshop with a ton of commissions around here and there. Your skill is one of the things that amazed him after all, but that isn’t the point at the moment. He tries to figure out the reason why you are ignoring him, even taking off the thing that is supposed to allow him to keep tabs on what or where are you running off to. But he can’t put his finger on any logical explanation at all

He is aware of his limited understanding regarding mortal’s mind. Even when he has spent so much time by your side, he still feels that he can’t see the world under your eyes properly. He reassures himself, Illumina won’t let those ugly emotions get the best of him, there is just no way. But even when his emotions are rather different from yours — as he deems them as his weakness and they barely matters much to him when he isn’t with you — that pit in his unbeaten heart is getting more and more intense like a ship sinking down into the black water hopelessly. He doesn’t understand that feeling of his, he has never experienced it before after all. Illumina can’t bring the name of this newly discovered emotion at all, he just knows that it isn’t a positive response based on what he has been feeling currently

Irritated isn’t the right word, and neither is sorrow. This feeling is a mixed of everything he can possibly think of. Yet it comes from his love from you. How can it be possible? Illumina isn’t out of his mind, right? Yet under his name that he takes pride of, he feels pathetic to even think that he is desperate to see you again, to hear you call out for him like you used to. He can’t believe he feels hurt just because you are ignoring him. He is a deity, one of the SFOTH, the almighty Lord that brings terror to those who defy his orders— and yet he can’t stop making a fool of himself like this

Emotions are the puzzle that Illumina struggles with solving, especially without you by his side to explain it. How ironic, the god himself fails to answer his own heart. When he is around you, his heart seems to be at ease. It feels like home when he holds you close to him, breathe in your scent and trace his hand against your skin. Illumina can let the tension be lifted away from his shoulders when he is with you. It is love, as you have told him. He can’t believe how much he has yearned for you and your love

But then the question that he tries to bury just comes in his mind: Is there any chance that you have grown exhausted from loving him?

The thought makes Illumina freeze on sight. If that isn’t the case, then he has no better theory to cling to himself, and that definitely causes him more distress than one can manage to imagine. He shouldn’t be insecure because of such trivial matters, no? Yet here he is, walking back and forth in his domain with a darkened expression resembles a pained stubborn animal that refuses to lower its pride. He can’t bring himself to imagine that you have changed your feelings, he mentally cannot do that. If you want to distance yourself from him, then is there an explanation? Or you just simply do so? He feels hurt to think that you are keeping him in the dark with doubts. Days of silence passed by, he didn’t even present himself to his follower’s prayer directly by himself anymore, his mind is too occupied to maintain that composure with his usual calm yet intimidating demeanor

If he keeps all this worries to himself, Illumina is positive that he might as well goes crazy like his brother who he shall not speak of that vexatious name due to how many times he has physically winced just because of the simple mention of that bastard. He is torn between keeping his ego and continue to wait patiently as he should, or just discard his own pride to seek the answer for himself. It’s such a lowly move, in his opinion. But it involves you. And if he can’t get the actual answer anytime soon, may Ghostwalker just come over and take him through the deepest pit of Hell. In the end, Illumina finally makes up his mind with a shaky sigh filled with determination

On the other hand, let’s talk about you, o great artisan. The evidences of your talents are praised by the most crotchety customers ever, even the god who proposed to you as his lover has to be in awe of your creation. The fruit of your skilled hand is soaked with your passion, amazes every patrons of yours due to the fine taste you have with art. To you, every single piece of your crafts holds a different meaning to the reason it comes to reality in the first place. You use them to express your thoughts, your feelings and your rawest form of your ideas. You have all the rights to be proud of yourself because of your precious accomplishments

Lately, you have been rooting inside your workshop with no time to rest. Countless sketches being dumped into the fire while the sound of materials being forged into one piece have certainly created an ambience in your mind. You seem to forget the concept of time, as you keep working like a horse through days and nights without allowing yourself any moment of relaxation. Aside from the hyper focus you have on the subject in front of your eyes, the vision of your muse is all you can think of. Oh how you have missed him, but you know that you can’t let him know about this just yet. This has to be perfect, you can’t let your muse down with this

“Let’s just pray that he will like this..,” you mindlessly mumble to yourself

“Like what?”

You swear that your heart almost leaps out of your chest the moment you hear that nonchalant voice that you have missed oh so much. Illumina will never drop that hobby of scaring you out of nowhere with his unannounced visit, won’t he? Thankfully you still have your action in control before you can even drop anything because of how he has startled you. If you have to start all over again, you swear that your heart almost might actually pass out right there without a warning. With a deep breath, you slowly turn around to face your beloved muse. At the same time, you use yourself to cover the things you are doing earlier

Half-lidded empty white eyes meet yours. Illumina has stayed behind you for who knows how long with a frown. You are well aware that it doesn’t seem like he is in a good mood, the tension between the two of you is thick. The air around you has never felt so suffocating despite the ongoing fire in the furnace that is always there until now. It takes you a swift moment to close your jaw as you gulp down nothing, figuring what is the best thing to respond to your muse in this very moment. He is definitely unhappy, that is for sure. Now that you have realized it, how long has you been inside the workshop again? Based on his reaction alone, you know exactly the reason why he is upset, and you also know that you screwed up pretty much there

“Why the long face,” he hums sarcastically, “Is my presence cause you such pressure?”

Now you can definitely be more than certain on the fact he is bothered. And you have contributed greatly to that annoyance that looms over his presence. Just great, is it not?

“No, my beloved, it’s not like that. I’m just surprised of your sudden visit. You don’t usually…well, do it without a reason- since you are pretty catch up with your duty”

“Oh? Then pray tell, why is it that I must be given a reason to see what are you doing without me knowing?”

You are hesitant about answering this question of his. That excuse you used is definitely a weak one, because you know too well that Illumina will drop everything in a heartbeat to respond to your slightest mention of needing him. Taking off the protection charm so that he can’t be aware of your actions is quite the bold move, but you have no choice, it can risk your plan. You won’t deny the fact that it must have worried him sick though, you would react the same if you were to be in his position. He has that right to do so. Before you can gather your thoughts into a coherent sentence to answer him, Illumina cuts you off almost immediately

“Are you too caught up with your works? Or are you simply not want to see me? As much as I can read your mind if you allow me, I can’t investigate your emotions myself”

You want to facepalm yourself. As much as the sight of Illumina getting so worked up like this is definitely amusing, you do realize that your actions of not contacting him like you usually do is a direct slap to how he dotting over you that much. At least with the charm he gifted you, he can be less worried about your safety. And what did you do? Take it off and leave it at home to bury yourself under your works. You even stunned to check the date just to realize that almost three weeks have passed, in another word, you have ignored him for almost a month. Making him misunderstood your behavior is not what you are looking forward to, but here it goes. If only you have keep your eyes on the calendar

“Illumina”

When you call out his name, Illumina seems to have mixed reactions with it. A part of him is pleased when hearing his name coming from your mouth like a slight plead, however, another force inside him causes him to tense up at it. That voice telling him that you are done with him keeps pestering his mind like a disease. Illumina shoos it away, yet he just can’t help himself. He crosses his arms together, waiting for you to talk to him with that typical unamused expression

“My divine, rest assured that I don’t mean to make you worried,” you coo, trying to be considerate as you walk towards him, “I’m sorry. My fault, I know. I’m just a bit too busy lately”

Mutual understanding is an important factor in a sustainable relationship. But it’s you who toss him aside first even when you mean well at first, so you don’t really have a saying about him being unreasonable. As the matter of facts, he has more than just a reason to be upset. When you are standing there right in front of him, he can’t help but clicking his tongue in mild disaccord

“Too busy with something more important than my presence?”

You freeze there for a moment, not knowing how to word it without giving your true intentions away. It is clear to him that you are hiding something away from him, and Illumina is concerned about it. You always tell him what’s on your mind, but now? You keep a secret from him. Illumina shakes his head as he looks down at your lack of response

“I just want to know why you have been avoiding me recently. You even put aside the charm I gifted you, then spend days without a mention of me on your tongue,” he bitterly huffs, “I tried to think of what have I done to upset you this whole time, yet I have failed to understand what have I done wrong. If you have anything you want to say to me, I suggest you to do it now truthfully”

Illumina is mentally cursing himself for sounding so foolish. He still can’t bring himself to believe that he has became this pathetic due go the lack of affection, he resents that idea with all he can afford to keep. His hand is clutching into fist behind his back as he tries to calm himself down, keeping up that aloof attitude in front of you. If only he expresses how he truly feels in the moment, you will know he has been dealing with that damned feeling inside his chest without you

But then again, he can’t really keep that ugly feeling contained by himself for foo long, not when you are right in front of his eyes. As much as he feels so humiliated at the moment, he knows that at least you might spare him a reconsideration. He is willing to throw his dignity aside to have this conversation with you, even when he doesn’t want to appear as ‘weak’ in front of you. Yet he still wants to try. And you know it well, as his expression slightly changes to a slight concerned look. Calling the change subtle is an understatement, yet you have stayed with him long enough to notice the smallest change in his behavior without a sweat. It’s something that he finds both amusing and questionable, knowing how much you pay your upmost attention to him

“I wish for you to tell me what is on your mind,” Illumina steps closer to you, towering you with his height, yet you feel no actual threats coming from him, “If there is something bothers you, in which it involves my behavior, I wish for you to not keep it from me. Tell me, let me hear you. To put up with me isn’t an easy task, but I still wish for you to let me explain if you are truly upset at me”

You quickly shake your head as your hands hole onto his for reassurance. It’s actually a bit comical regarding the current situation on how you are just explaining yourself because you make your SFOTH deity of a beloved agitated too much. You soon figuring out that there is no point hiding anything from him now if you want him to be at ease, so you acknowledge your defeat

”No, it’s not like that. Illumina, my love, you misunderstand my intentions. I’m not upset with you, not at all,” you sigh slightly, “It’s just…this, here”

Signaling your head to the item on the table, you step aside, guide his hand to face the thing that has managed to drown you in this uptight schedule of work that you have forced yourself to do with one month before the deadline reaches. And to Illumina’s surprise, the thing in front of his eyes is…a crafted lotus? That surprised expression manages to replace that nonchalant look on his face

“This is…” Illumina holds his breath when his fingers ghost against the delicate yet firm petal of the lotus. A white lotus, with the purple pattern that is delicately hand-painted, emitting a gentle aura like moonlight. The piece of art is held by a moon-like stand supporting it by the sliver chain, which makes it looks like it is floating in the air. The petals are cold, but also pleasant to the touch. Like glass, but also resembles the gentle breeze of spring, the texture definitely leaves him questioning if this is crafted by dreams or not, it’s too surreal

If he looks more careful, he can even see a small figure of him sitting on the top of the stand with his eye close, and you are beside him as well. The statues are complexed to the point that he has to look twice to recognize the little details of it in your style. The beauteous creation of his favorite flower, crafted by your hands fully, just for him. As always, have you ever failed to amaze him with your miracle?

“Well, for you,” you admit, “For your spawnday, to be specific. It was meant to be a surprise for you, but…yeah, now you know, my dear”

The almighty deity himself is rather stunned while you explain the mechanism of said craft. Originally, you wanted to make a censer — a perfume burner, to be more specific — for him. But then you start to think it might be too basic for your lover. It kinda explains the countless scrapped ideas you had before until you thought of something insane: Why not making a censer styled so it could be a lantern as well? Your imagination is definitely unmatched with, yet you manage to accomplish the task perfectly by yourself. You even want to take thing to the next level by making a miniature statue of him and you, which you definitely have to open your eyes widely so you won’t screw the whole things up

Illumina is in awe for quite a long time. And the fact that he has doubted your love before, he can’t believe the audacity he has to even think about that. A part of him is guilty for internally accusing you just like that, and you can tell. You quickly dismiss that guilt in his heart with your hand placed on his while he is still admiring your work

“And for the record, I’m sorry for keeping this from you. Shouldn’t have worried you at the start,” you smile slightly as you look up at him, “I just thought that with your protection charm being so effective, it might ruin the surprise”

You still remember that slight scoff on his face when you say it. It makes you smile, but at least that is quite the positive response you get from him. Although you can’t really keep this a surprise until his birthday anymore, but yeah, you can come up with something additional to go with his gift. But this time, maybe don’t worry about surprises and just cutting him off contact like that, figure out something else instead

“Do you like it?”

“I assume that you already know my answer, no? It is…ethereal”

Hearing that brings a smile to your face. He doesn’t seem to be too much in distress as before now, instead that all knowing smile with a hint of pride has returned to his face. Of course, he is pleased with the gift you have prepared him

”Thank you, for this”

However, he still needs to keep his demeanor as he glances over to you. He moves his hand slightly, the charm has appeared in the palm of his hand within a blink as he helps you to put it on again

“But next time, don’t make me worry for you like that. Just keep the charm on, at least I can still sense your presence quietly”

“Did you miss me that much?”

There it is, that look of unamused judgement of your lover that you have missed so much whenever you say something preposterous to him. You won’t deny, it does humor you at how he has put up with your choice of words by that reaction. If he even has irises, you know that he will be rolling his eyes visually before turning away from you

“Keep silent, lest thou desire me to walk aroint back into mine domain presently without looking back”

“Oh c’mon, not the old words! My love, my heart, I’m sorry!”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: Miss me? I think I did well with the competition, although I was 2 years late than other participants but it went well!（＾◇＾）Now I just have to wait over the week to get my results, hopefully I make it(*´ー｀*)

Note 2: Damn my only ‘friend’ ditch me, I’m alone again

[imaginesheaven]

TF 141 reacting to a very strong Reader(gn preferably) ? Like strong to the point they can lift at most 700pds? (315 kgs) like it's paper? Can be romantic or platonic

(ps. I have zero idea if you are taking requests I feel like this would be a funny thing)

Your wish is my command! This is literally so fun to write :D Keep the requests coming if you want :) I hope you like it!

Warnings: Cursing .. once again (I can't write literally nothing without a single curse word)

Strong!Reader x TF 141 - Friendship Headcanons

The team doesn’t know right away how strong you actually are. It’s not a fact you like to introduce yourself with. Mostly you keep it to yourself until you start to trust the people around you. Apart from this, you like it when people underestimate you.

Funnily your body doesn’t match your strength level at all. You have a rather slender and delicate form.

And that’s how you got your call sign within the Task Force 141. Soap started to call you “Tiny”, which has absolutely nothing to do with your height. He just likes to tease you. Unfortunately, the name got stuck in their brains and everyone calls you “Tiny”. At first you were not happy about it, but over the time you get used to it.

One evening it was your time to shine. Almost the whole team gathered to drink some beer or other alcoholics to unwind from a rather hard mission. Captain Price is nowhere to seen. Probably in his office doing some work like he always does. No one of you is really drunk just a bit more loose than usual.

Of course, Soap started to throw around dares like there is no tomorrow. We all know our beloved Scottish clown. You enjoy the sight as they try to out beat each other in different dares like who can drink more in ten seconds and so on.

“(Y/N), you are so tiny! I’m pretty sure you can’t even pick up Gaz!”, Soap can’t contain his own joy. He would learn in a few seconds to never underestimate someone because of their appearance.

With a bright smile on your lips you stand up and pick up Gaz bridal style. “Okay… that’s new”, Kyle isn’t quite sure how to feel about being carried like this. As if it wouldn’t be enough already you do a few rounds of squats.

The silence is deafening.

You keep doing your squats as Gaz holds onto your form for his dear life. He would never admit it but he feels quite safe and protected in your arms. The soldier starts to see you in a new light. Is that how a crush feels like?!

“Hold on, mate! Wait a second!”, Soap finds his tongue again throwing the empty bottle of beer away in the same second, “Now is my turn!” You put Gaz down and give Soap a chance to be carried bridal style.

“What the hell did they feed you back home?”, Ghost asks quite surprised, which is a rare sight. Grinning you shrug your shoulders doing more squats with Soap in your arms, “Nothing special. I’m just strong and love lifting things.”

“Steamin’ Jesus!”, Soap’s cheeks start to turn red. He has never been carried like that and it feels very good. “Get down, Johnny”, Ghost rolls his eyes playfully annoyed, “You are making a bloody fool out yourself.”

“Why did you keep this secret to yourself?”, Gaz can’t believe they all called you “Tiny” since your transfer into the team. “Just waited for the right moment, I guess”, you hold out your free arms for Ghost, who shakes his head slowly. “Can you carry us both at the same time?”, Soap exclaims excited and almost jumps into your arms again.

Captain Price walks down the hall to get himself a tea. He has been sitting hours at his desk doing tons of paperwork. Now he recalls that he didn’t hear a single word from his team for those said hours. Panic washes over him in an instant. Where were you all and what stupid shit have you done this time?!

“OH MY GOD! THIS IS INSANE!”, Price follows the loud voices he recognizes immediately down the hall but stops abruptly.

There you are all Soap wrapped up in one arm and Gaz in the other one. You carry them both doing squats without even breaking into a sweat. Ghost just raises his beer bottle cheering it at Price, “Hey, Captain! Nice evening, huh?”

Price looks at each of you a solid second with a shocked face, “What the bloody hell I am just witnessing?” Soap claps his hands still excited about your hidden talent, “Tiny is fucking strong, Captain!” Price just nods in agreement, “I can see that.”

“Seems like Tiny isn’t an appropriate call sign anymore”, Ghost summarizes the situation in one sentence. Price can’t still get over the fact you kept this promise for such a long time to yourself. He takes happily the beer that Ghost overs him.

“How much can you lift?”, the Captain can’t take his eyes off of you fascinated and horrified at the same time. You are still doing your squats with Soap and Gaz. You probably could outlift him at any time! He has respected to before but now he kind of worships you. Can’t he have a whole army of soldiers like you?

“Hmm… Around 700 pounds I think was the best I ever did. I can probably lift more but I never tested it out”, you say that like’s something absolutely normal to do. Price almost chokes on his beer as Ghost slides down in his chair. What have you done?

Soap and Gaz share an overly excited glance clapping their hands, “We have to test that out right away!” They wriggle themselves free from your grasp to run around in a search for heavy things to lift.

Ghost wouldn’t admit it but he is also impressed with your skills, “That’s going to be a long night.”

[angrygirlromero]

BASTARD LOVE, PROLOGUE

WARNING: grammar mistakes, violence, suggestive content! MDNI

Demitra Lyninxic was no fool, she knew despite being claimed by the goddess Hera that she was no child of her's, not because of her behavior towards the young demigod, but rather because of the power that coursed through her veins, deep down she could feel the storm brewing inside her and when it came no one not even her mother, the goddess of marriage would be able to calm it.

She knew her father had failed to take notice of her being, yet he had taken care of his sweet Thalia, but when Demitra had arrived at camp with hundreds of monsters on her tail, while almost being killed at the border Zeus stood by and watched yet he did nothing, as if she wasn't his own blood, but as Luke had always said "no one could force the gods to do anything", most especially take responsibility for their children.

But she was tired of being in her so called mother's shadow, the other gods turning a blind eye to her being due to Hera's fondness for the girl, and Demitra played the part of the dutiful daughter of Hera becoming the maternal figure at camp, every single camper looked up at her for guidance what seemed like a blessing from the gods would someday be a curse to them.

She pretended not knowing that her beloved mother Hera had been the one to leave her an orphan being the one to take her mothers life out of jealousy and spite of her husband, what seemed like devotion and pure love from afar deep down was resentment and hatred up close, no one would ever notice, except for him, he saw straight threw her, from the moment he had met her all those years ago in the Hermes cabin, a scared girl who had been abandoned and been thrown to the Wolfes, Luke saw the same darkness he saw in himself in her.

Demitra sat alone in the woods a small fire burning in-front of her as she sat with a blank look upon her beautiful features, the young girl took her time to pick up her plate where a slice of chocolate cake sat perfectly waiting to be eaten, yet instead of eating the delicious pastry Demitra leaned forward raking the pastry into the fire where the flames soon consumed it.

"It's my birthday today." stated the girl as she stared deep into the fire "I doubt you even know that, or care but I turned sixteen today, it's been fifteen years since she passed, I doubt you even remember her name or what she looked like" said Demitra as a tear slipped down her right cheek, "I don't think she would be proud of me, because I know you aren't, cause if you were you'd acknowledge me. I- I just hope one day you'll be proud of me, either way I'm sorry for bothering you father" said Demitra with a broken voice.

Her head hang low in shame at her actions she did this every year, knowing deep down that she would get no response but maybe this year would be different she thought, the curse of hope that haunted her as a mortal was her enemy, it always would be what haunted her.

"Deep down he is proud of you" said a deep voice from in front of her, Demitra quickly raised her head to lock eyes with the figure before her, Demitra thought she was losing her mind at the god before her, there stood the almighty Ares, the god of war, the protector of women, with his arms crossed as he stared at the demigod before him.

"You are as beautiful as mother claims, sister" stated Ares, to which Demitra frowned with her lips parted, "a beautiful woman should never have to cry to gain a mans affections" stated Ares bending down to his sister's level taking his hand under her chin then whipping the tears from her cheeks, "Our father isn't worth it, you should know that by now" he said.

"Why have you come to me?" asked out Demitra in a soft voice to which Ares smiled, "I have been watching you for a while sister, I admire your actions and I am grateful to you for caring for my children." explained Ares, "They speak of you frequently you see, and my daughter Clarisse believes that you are destined for greatness" he said.

"Me? destined for greatness? is unlikely" said Demitra with a sad voice "Do you know why our father treats you the way he does?" asked Ares to which Demitra shook her head, "Some years ago there was a prophecy told to the gods, one stating that the children of Zeus, Poseidon and Hades would soon rise up and rebel against them it is why the pact of the forbidden children was made" said Ares but of course everyone knew that story, but why would he care so deeply for Thalia yet turn a blind eye to her?

"But then the oracle went on and told each one of them about their children, Zeus would have three forbidden children, bastards, one would be ungrateful, blind to his affections, and despise what they are, another would be destined for greatness and glory but would have a tragic story, and the last one would be the most powerful demigod to every live, that child was said to despise him and challenge him." said Ares "Father fears which one you would be and mother thinks that you are destined to be the second one."

"I am no great warrior, I have no glory, all I've done is teach and care for the children here, and I can not be blind of affections I do not receive" said Demitra firmly staring at her brother, to which Ares smiled tilting his head at her in curiosity, "I believe other wise" he stated, "Everyday you manage to teach half of the children here something new, they adore you and worship the ground you walk upon, it's more of a blessing than a curse sister. Use that adoration to your advantage" suggested Ares before stepping back preparing himself to leave.

"Why come to me now?" asked Demitra with confusion consuming her beautiful features "Because you're time is coming soon, and when it comes I want to be by your side" said her brother with a soft smile, yet he only provoked even further confusion in the young demigod, "And keep that Hermes boy close, he's quite infatuated with you sister" Said Ares with a smirk before he glowed a bright gold and faded into thin air.

After he faded into golden specs from where he once stood fell a small piece of parchment and with it was a Ipomoea both light objects taking a while to fall to the ground at Demitra's feet, the young demigod picked up the the piece of parchment with a unsure look upon her face, afraid to touch the flower she read the note first.

— To my dearest Demitra, happy birthday my sweet girl I was not allowed to visit you this year but I will see you again very soon little one, in my place I have sent your brother I hope he keep his manners with you. I have sent you a gift it is a morning glory my sweet it will grant you great things in time of need, it is a representation of my love for you it will never fade.

Mother —

⚡︎

Tag list: @puppygirlstar @cecilla @random-girls-loves @purplerose291

BASTAR LOVE MASTERLIST

GENERAL MASTERLIST

[lya-dustin]

Seasons of my love

Bridgeton!Au! Loosely based on S.2 of Bridgeton where the Male!Reader is Anthony and Aemond is Kate Sharma basically.

It was supposed to be heterosexual, but that felt too basic, so have some gays in love this Sunday instead.

Gif by @gameofthronesdaily

Taglist: @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly

It was heard from the Lonely Light to Asshai by the Shadow that if a man wants to court the princess, he must win her brothers’ favor first. So far, no one has been able to secure Prince Aemond’s blessing.

After Helaena and Aegon petitioned their father to stop Ser Otto and the Queen to force them into marriage, court had been filled to the brim with eligible bachelors.

All simpering fools who have the ambition to rival that of his grandsire and none of the personality nor good nature of Laenor, the last man to marry a princess.

Laenor ---despite his degeneracy--- had been knighted in battle, able to charm birds off trees and, most importantly, a dragonrider.

Laenor had also not given a rat’s arse about what his wife did behind closed doors ---or in the stables as Aemond and Aegon discovered a lifetime ago.

This last part is of paramount importance due to what Aemond knows about his beloved sister.

Sweet Helaena should have been named Rhaena, he thinks as he tries to stop mother from hearing his sister calling Lady Elisa Piper her darling wife.

Helaena did not care if her husband loved her or lived that long and often could not discern between friend or foe, so it fell on Aemond to be the shield who protects her from the rakes and Androw Farmans in the lists.

Being her favorite brother and the only one who cares about her wellbeing, was not an easy job, but only he could do it.

Aegon just wanted her married so their dear mama could stop trying to annul his marriage to Cassandra Baratheon.

Daeron was too young and believed the choice should fall on whoever Helaena liked.

Only Rhaenyra backed this scheme of his, horribly enough.

The Princess of Dragonstone is known for having a good eye for men, Ser Criston had grumbled bitterly ---not that Aemond cared to ask for context about his acrimonious feelings towards his elder sister.

She and Daemon would host the suitors in Dragonstone ---she was in confinement due to the imminent birth of her sixth child--- and send him the list of those whose characters they considered good enough for Helaena along with more profuse apologies from her brood of Strong Boys.

The one-eyed prince found himself forgiving Lucerys after the forty-ninth letter written about his guilt and wished to offer his own eye in recompense.

“Perhaps, number nine and forty will win your approval.” Helaena had said as they met this man whom their sister gave a glowing recommendation.

He dressed well, was a knight and a lord.

Lord (Y/N) (L/N) was also handsome, charming and not a piece of dragonshit, or so Daemon had assured him in his letter.

Perfect for my sweet Helaena, Rhaenyra had added in hers.

“You said the same thing about numbers one to eight and forty, mandia.” Aemond said as he eyed you like a horse being brought forth by the horse coursers yesterday.

As usual, the suitor takes great consideration in wooing his sister and trying to establish a sense of friendship with Aemond.

Unlike the rest, however, you take in consideration his likes and dislikes instead of assuming he is into whatever Aegon or the other rakes are into.

You are well-read, amiable, religious but not a zealot and, most importantly, you get along with Helaena like a house on fire.

“They are perfect for each other, don’t you agree?” mother tried her best to get Aemond to like you.

Too perfect.

And while he has become fond of you, dangerously fond of you, Aemond knows he is setting himself, no, his sister for a sure disappointment.

So one night Aemond decides it is time for Aegon’s test.

A test that consists on getting you drunk, asking questions and leave you in a brothel while both brothers come to a verdict.

You don’t drink much, but eventually you are drunk enough to sing a rather scandalous version of Seasons of My Love with him.

One where instead of a maid it is boy.

Aemond finds himself drunk enough to kiss you.

A mistake the both of you blame on the wine.

After all, Aemond is a prince and you are courting his sister.

“I apologize for my behavior, my lord, it won’t happen again.” He had said pretending it was just that. “But I see no reason to deny you my blessings to marry my sister.”

The kiss mean nothing, the prince tells himself even after finding out from Helaena that you prefer men over women and finds her as beautiful as her brother.

It means nothing, Aemond repeats even after he begins to remember how sweet it was.

He claims he feels nothing for you except friendship and yet the wedding day comes and Aemond feels pained enough to try and numb it with wine.

He should not have these feelings for you, he can’t, it goes against nature and the gods of his mother.

But he wants you, wants you in a way he has not wanted a woman or man before.

Aemond makes a toast and cannot keep his eyes away from yours, thinking it unfair that all the qualities he loves about you are on you, a man.

Not just any man, the man married to his favorite sister.

A man he has to pretend is merely a friend for the rest of their lives because the moment Queen Alicent finds out, they are dead.

Later that night, you find him absent-mindedly strumming a lute.

It’s your wedding night, and yet the ones enjoying the bridal chamber are Helaena and her Elissa going by the looks of it.

“Do you take any requests, your highness?” you ask coming to sit beside him.

A dangerous proximity, one where he cannot trust himself to run should his desires and feelings for you get the best of him again.

“Only if its you.” The prince said trying to keep his cool.

“Rather enjoyed that Myrish song the other night. I had hopes to ask for an encore.” You say, hiding your meaning well enough.

“Hmm, what would your bride say?” Aemond knew Helaena had given him the freedom to do as he pleases, but Aemond needs to hear you say it.

“She sees no reason to deny me her blessings to pursue you.” You answer and take advantage of his surprise to return the kiss.

This time it isn’t called a mistake nor blamed on the wine.

This time Aemond dares to do more than just kiss you.

[kopivie]

Some little thoughts for our beloved spider detective:

Much like in canon, he learns martial arts; and that’s his predominant fighting style when in combat, with some swinging and webs added in. His father trained him since he was young, and although Heizou isn’t too keen on violence, he’s got to admit that the training comes in useful in a pinch.

He’s much more catching-the-villain than fighting-the-villain oriented — his primary motivation is to catch criminals before they can do too much harm and get them into rehab (canon motivations carrying across again).

He works with the police in general more than other Spider-people, but not consistently: he only teams up when he knows it’ll be beneficial, and if police forces become an obstacle, he just goes off and does what needs to be done himself. The police kind of hate him for being so seemingly whim-oriented and unreliable, but they recognise his skill enough to begrudgingly work with him when he comes knocking.

Heizou often underplays his strength to fool his enemies. If he can get by without using any physical force, he’ll do that; but in desperate situations, he uses the general public’s perception of him as a less physically powerful hero to his advantage and catch an enemy off-guard — but of course he has to do this rarely enough so it doesn’t become common knowledge that he’s actually very competent in combat, so usually he makes the situation such that it’s possible the damage caused could be attributed to other factors)

Having followed quite a few of Spiderman’s dealings on the news and all that, you have your suspicions about his true strength; namely, that he’s a lot, lot more competent than he lets on — like, come on, there’s no way that power line just collapsed because of the wind like Spider-Man said. There’s something fishy going on here.

Meanwhile, rather than being worried about you catching on, Heizou’s actually pretty smug (in a proud way) and loving the fact you’re picking up on the clues, even though he doesn’t let you in on it — a kind of ‘heh, I knew you’d get it’ reaction 

When he’s wandering around as a civilian, he calls his intuition his intuition, but when he’s in action, he calls it his Spidey-sense. His intuition is also insanely accurate, even more so than in canon: it was already on point before he got bitten, and afterwards… if he ever wanted to switch professions to a fortune teller, he’d be more than welcome. It’s actually unfair.

Heizou knows he shouldn’t tell you outright about his identity, but he’s can’t help nudging you towards it… so every time he’s around you in either form, he’s probing lightly into what you think of his other ego and dropping not-so-subtle hints about his identity — think about how, if you played the Arataki Touring for Life whatever festival event, Heizou left that note at the end essentially telling-but-not-telling the Traveller what happened. He does that. A lot. Maybe you’re just wilfully ignorant at this point for his own sake.

I’m also wondering what kind of person the reader is. I’ve got this idea that the two first met at some mystery novel society and grew closer from there — possibly, if we want some lovely romantic cliches, they met Spider-Man that very night when he helped them out with something (either getting them out of danger or even, like, noticing they’re struggling with their bags and offering to carry a few things lmao).

Anyway, so, reader. I’m not quite sure what they study—potentially law, to complement Heizou’s detective work, or something like biochem for a future career in forensics, or psychology, or… you get the idea. It’s pretty much throwing darts and seeing what sticks at this point.

One thing I thought might be a nice little hobby for them is drawing comics — and then their little crush on a certain local hero starts creeping into their stories and illustrations, and… hey, when did your OC superhero start looking so much like Spider-Man? (Also, the moment Heizou finds out about your comics, you can bet he’s following each one to the T, theorising story beats… maybe he off-handedly mentions your art accounts in an interview with the police, and now you’ve got, like, 50k followers. Whoops!)

Spidey!Heizou is also normal Heizou’s teasing amped up 200%. You will not catch a break. Sorry. I’m not sure what nicknames he uses for the reader yet, though… any thoughts?

That’s all I’ve got for now… he’ll definitely be ticking over in my brain for the next few days.

-🎻 anon

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHSDUISHFKDJFHSDFJADFHAS OKAY OKAY OKAY WAIT HOLD ONNNJKNFKBJKDBFS FUCK THIS IS SO COOL HNNNGG

reader being a forensics student would be pretty silly, no? in my city we have a school for criminal justice, so being a forensics major isn't too out of the ordinary for me to imagine -- the hard part is figuring out what type of forensics the reader would go into, because there are so many different sub-categories for forensics.

but maybe psychology would suit them better since they could discuss what they think spider-man is thinking with heizou, and he could give some... insight. OR since you said he's more about rehabilitation, reader could be going into some sort of prisoner reform program where they help the people that spider-man sends their way?

either way, while spider-man's teasing might increase, your ability to keep up could be tested since you two just. play mind games with each other. he plays the detective who analyzes your every move behind the mask and you try to rely on wordplay rather than give him the satisfaction of reading your expressions.

(it'd be a real shame if you became a criminal who used the malleability of words to get away with crimes somehow, hm. a perfect counter to spider-man -- while he may be one step ahead, he can't really account for the many implications of your every word.)

[rainintheevening]

Okay everyone here it is! My @sw-olives-and-grapes fic, very late, but it's still November, so it's cool. Set in my Promises of Fools 'verse. Thanks to @novelmonger, @sergeanttomycaptain for loving on me for two amazing weeks. Featuring my beloved Team, lots of mush, angst, and fluff.

The Light in Our Eyes

He’d told Rex to wake him when Obi-Wan made the hanger, but something about the realspace reversion at Eriadu jolted him out of a hazy nightmare of fire, and black rock, and Obi-Wan’s eyes filled with tears.

Anakin rolled over in his bunk with a groan, rubbing his flesh hand over his face, as if he could rub out the images. Everything in his body ached, every muscle, every joint. “Might as well have been trampled by a bantha,” he muttered aloud to Qui-Gon.

There was no audible reply, but a ripple of amusement touched him in the Force, and he smiled involuntarily.

“Yes, I suppose that’s what happens when you fight the Lord of the Sith, and become One with the Force. Temporarily, at least.” He closed his eyes, exhaled heavily. Of course, he would attempt to explain the experience to Obi-Wan, but he also knew any words he used would be either too much or too little.

How did one explain what it was to hold the entire galaxy in one’s hand, to be a speck of sand in the great infinity, to hold all power and existence, and yet to be nonexistent, completely and utterly surrendered to the flow of the Force? Surrendered to the burning of the stars, and the breathing of the wind, and the burying of the dead. Surrendered to love and light and life.

He had emptied himself into the Force, held nothing back, consumed himself in the fire of love. He remembered wrapping his hands around the explosion of Palpatine’s power, and it had burned, burned through him, but it had been effortless as breathing, and he had sung the song of the shield, of the Jedi, of the light. Sung small and thin, a child alone in the night, a flickering candle against the ever expanding dark, yet sung in the roar of a thousand stars that echoed the shattering of shadows, as the blackness collapsed in on itself, as the sun leapt above the horizon.

There was death, and yet it was as if death itself had died. The clouds dissolved into mist, the sun shone warm, and he could only stand on the endless shore, watching the waves’ ceaseless roll, until Qui-Gon called his name.

He was smaller in Qui-Gon’s arms—five, or maybe fifteen again—warm and safe, wrapped in the smells of salt air and fresh earth and hot tea.

“Well done, little one.”

The words were rich with affection, and Anakin had smiled, pressed his face into the broad chest, even as he readied himself to let go. “I’ll come back to you some day. I promise.”

“You won’t stay then?” Qui-Gon’s hand stroking over his hair was gentle.

He’d known it was to be his choice, known the option was there. But he also knew all along what his choice would be. “You’ll wait for me, for us, won’t you?”

“Of course, little one.”

Anakin had looked up into Qui-Gon’s smiling bearded face, before the man stepped away, held out his hand in invitation.

“Alright then, Ani, follow me. I know the way.”

Just at this moment, sitting on the edge of his bunk aboard the Resolute with every fibre of his body aching, his stomach growling, and the wall chrono telling him he’d slept for ten hours straight, Anakin wished he hadn’t taken it.

A warm presence outside in the hall, the door sliding open, and the sight of his captain’s face made him forget that complaint.

“Rex!”

A quick smile. “General Kenobi is on the approach, sir.”

“Good. Soon as he’s landed, reset course for Mustafar. The Separatists are waiting.”

Rex’s grin had a fierce edge. “Yes, sir.”

Keep reading on Ao3

[axratsffxivwrite]

FFXIV Day 17 - Sally

The landscape of Zadnor had forever changed beneath the Garlean assault. Pockmarked by craters and shadowed by the IVth Legion's fleet, it was nigh unrecognizable.

None the less, the Eastern Alliance forces sallied forth again and again, leaving the safety of their shield generators to advance on the Dalriada. They had called on no small number of adventurers to aid them, but though her name certainly sat in some dusty tome in an adventurer's guild, Viola did not count herself among their number.

Instead, Viola waited amidst the supply crates, stuck in a holding pattern of hurry up and wait. Her snow white bird waited nearby alongside Marsil's white-tipped, yellow courser as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the flaps to the officer's tent were swept open and tied off, the allied leaders dispersing amongst their people. Viola's ears pivoted, her attention on Marsil as he jogged across Camp Vrdelnis, splitting off from the rest of the Dalmascan officers.

The longer this fight went on, the more haggard Marsil seemed to become. They had barely a moment to breathe after Nalbina before the General had decided to send them west instead of east. This field was just as important as Valnain, they knew, and yet Viola could not help but feel a sense of resentment to be fighting on the wrong front.

"Right," he cleared his throat, "we need to load the birds. We're on supply lines, as usual. We'll be a three-man team making runs from here across the camps, taking anything that can't be transported by aethernet. Everything should be properly labeled and inventoried."

Viola scrutinized him for a moment and questioned, "three? At my last count, we have but two birds."

"Aye, that's true. For now."

He turned away from her to examine the boxes, but she could hear a smugness in his tone.

She clicked her tongue. "You know something."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean. Not to worry, the roster is all worked out."

"Is Hekla being reassigned, then?"

Marsil sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I wish, but no. Something about favoritism were she to be under my command."

Viola crossed her arms, leering at the back of Marsil's head. He busied himself with loading up saddlebags with rations, paying her absolutely no mind.

He called back, "the sooner we load up, the sooner we can meet our reinforcement."

She narrowed her eyes. "…you are an infuriating man sometimes."

"Oh, aye, I know."

Viola let out a heavy sigh. Reluctantly she stepped forward, picking up wrapped packages of dried meats and fruits to tuck away. It was a practiced song and dance for the two of them. Few words needed to be exchanged as they loaded up each of their birds, leaving no room for themselves as they strapped down packs atop packs meticulously. Weight distribution was carefully monitored, until finally they had everything they needed loaded and the chocobos had settled into the weight.

Reins in hand, they made their way toward the gate and waited for their companion.

Viola leered at Marsil.

Marsil smirked at Viola.

Minutes passed.

The grass shifted and dirt crunched, the sound all but imperceptible even to her sensitive hearing. Viola's ear pivoted in the direction of the sound faster than she could turn her head.

A familiar, beloved, one eyed Doman smiled at her, caught mid-step just a handful of fulms behind her. He wore the deep blue armor traditional to Doma's shinobi, his missing eye covered by black linens.

Mujika.

Her Mujika.

Viola dropped the reins and closed the distance in an instant, throwing her arms around him. She hunched down to bury her face in his hair and hold him close, nevermind how uncomfortable he was to hug through all that armor.

"You fool, you did not tell me you were being sent here, you could have called…"

"And risk being overheard? Viola, we're better than that." Mujika chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around her. "But I missed you, too."

She offered a soft noise of assent in return, nuzzling her face against his soft, jet black hair. Her tension melted against his warmth, her fears cast aside.

She felt Marsil place a hand upon her shoulder and offer a reassuring squeeze. It was all the affection he dared to share in public.

"Come now, you two." he called. "Before the higher ups change their mind. Muji, is Torio ready?"

Mujika hesitated, his fingers tightening their grip on Viola's shirt for just a moment before he extracted himself from her grip. She straightened up, her ears pinned back.

It was too much to hope for just a moment with her husband, wasn't it? This was war; they had battles to fight. There could be no peace until the day was won, and then he would have to leave again.

Then she would be left behind, again.

While she stewed in her longing, Mujika whistled for his chocobo. The black Dalmascan bird sauntered out from between the tents, laden with supplies herself. Viola's own chocobo trilled happily and trotted forth to meet her, jostling the packs upon his back.

A bonded pair. A wedding gift, so many years ago, now used for war. Such was their life. Such would be their life until Dalmasca was free.

Mujika turned back to Marsil. "We are ready."

"Good." He gave a firm nod. "Let's get moving, then, lovebirds."

Marsil turned as if to leave, but paused to mutter, "…and once we're out of sight, we can afford ourselves a moment to ourselves. It's been too long since we've all been in one place."

Viola inclined her head. Mujika nodded.

They, too, sallied forth.

[helpmeimblorboing]

Excerpt from the first manuscript of my retelling of the story of Odysseus

I was born a bastard, on barren Ithaca, land of rocks and sheep.

I was born in pain and death. I was born of a broken vow. My mother was Anticlea, one of the great companions of the Silver-eyed Huntress. Daughter of Autolycus, grand-daughter of the Trickster God, beloved by all

My father was a coward, and a monster

Sisyphus, they called him, violator of theoxenia, the divine law that protected guests. He who sought to cheat Hades. Of all his grand crimes, of all the agony he wrought, who would bother to count the deflowering of the young daughter of the Hermit of Parnassus, pathetic little Autolycus ?

But we never forgot

When I was born, my grandfather laid me on his bended knee, rough and hard with age, his bones poking through his wrinkled skin, and said, his voice as grave as an Oracle, his eyes as cold as any god, “You have been long-awaited for, little one. Since I have been angered, I shall name thee Odysseus”

My mother’s husband was a proud man, though kind in nature. Even after her desecration, he took her as his wife, even as his people shouted and cursed at her from the streets, and the priests of the gods spat at her in the temples. He took her in.

He was tall and stocky, built like a bear, his body practically all one big muscles, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with years of smiles and laughter. He used to travel his realm regularly, small as it was, dressed in little more than a white robe, a wooden staff in one hand – Fitting, I used to hear neighboring kings mock, a shepherd’s garb, for a king of sheep and dust

I used to grow rageful at their snide comments. I used to shout and to scream at them,  at my father. We were the kings of Ithaca, I used to yell, How could he let these fools shame us like this ?

When he heard that, he laughed. This, of course, only incensed my fool self further. You are the grandson-in-law of Hermes, the Trickster !! This is no laughing matter !! They are humiliating you… and you are letting them !!

He used to stop at that, and look at me, his face grim and serious, for once, looking every inch the king he was, “Odysseus”, he used to say, “Laertiades, my son. You have much left to learn of this world. Care not for the jeers of the masses, my son, or for the praise of the few. Care for nothing but that which you can achieve with your own two hands”

I used to stop then, and look him in the eye, perplexed, confused, What do you mean ?, I used to say. He never replied, simply shaking his head and smiling, “You will learn, Laertiades. Trust me, you will learn”

He was wiser than I, as I later came to know

I am five when the old women show up at our door. The night is rainy, the skies black with storm. Zeus’ wrath rains down upon our humble country, shaking the dust from the rocks that line our dangerous shores.

The doors to my father’s palace shake as someone… something… hits them, the wood shaking under the force. My mother’s grip around me tightens as she looks up, her eyes wide and fearful. My father grows from where he sits on his great throne, as he gestures to a servant to open the gates. My mother glances at him, as if to protest, but silences her tongue.

The doors open, and a shower of rainwater flies in, carried by the winds that buffet the palace, shaking it to it’s core. Three hooded figures stand in the rain, their cloaks long and black, seemingly smooth and rough at once. They enter, their footsteps sounding simultaneously on the stone floor of my father’s palace, before stopping in the center of the room

My father rises from his throne and walks to where they stand, lowering himself to his knees on the stone, placing his head at their feet, even as his advisors cry out at him to stop, to not demean himself. He looks up, and his eyes shine with tears

“O messengers of the gods”, he speaks, and his voice is thick with fear. I admire his bravery, for, from the look on my mother’s face, she would not have been able to do even that.

“What brings you to our humble isle”, he finishes, before lowering his head once more

The one who stands in front cocks her head to one side, before all three speak at once, their voice at once soft and loud, at once smooth and rough, at once painfully clashing and almost melodious

“O Laertes”, they say, though I cannot see their mouths, hidden as they are by their dark hoods, “O Arcesiades, O grandson of Cephalus. A gift has been borne unto you. The Grey-eyed Maiden smiles upon you tonight, and every night hence”

My father looks up, and his eyes shine with relief, with joy, “Thank you, O great ones. Thank you, O wise ones. Who is this gift ?”

One of the old women – and somehow I knew they were women, though I never saw their face- raise their finger, as it slipped free from their black cloaks. It is old and aged, resembling my grandfather’s fingers, though there is something decidedly inhuman about the woman’s. As the light shifts over it, it almost looks young again.

I realize that the court has gone silent. I look again at the finger… at where it points, and follow it’s track…. to myself

“Me ?”, I blurt out, before clapping two hands over my mouth. It is unwise to interrupt divine messengers , my mother’s gaze clearly conveys with the horror within it

The woman laughs, a high, keening, unpleasant noise, like a sword being dragged across stone, “Yes, O man of many devices, Yes, O polutrops. You. The Lady of Wisdom smiles upon you, tonight and every night from now.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Queens and gods🐍👑

Loki x fem reader

Chapter 1

Summary: Loki, the god of mischief, has brought chaos to new york. What happens when he meets a particular interesting human? Love? Havoc? or rather--amusement.

Warnings: death, swearing.

A/n: A recent commission was made by @kitxel-draws. Thanks for your supportive generosity. Chapter 2 shall be out soon. Enjoy💖

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

-----

War is where death follows between two opposing sides that fight until nothing but ash falls.

The city of New York was under threat, and the god of mischief had accomplished his goal; using the tesseract, he summoned an army that he had gained with the alliance of Thanos. The aliens came through the portal with heavy machinery and weapons, rifles, blasters, and snipers. These aliens, the Chitauri, were under the commandment of their one true God, Loki. The civilians in the area under witness to these extra-terrestrial beings were mortified in horror—the only reactions they could muster were screams and fleeing. The Chitahuri fell from the sky, riding their chariots. They resembled a swarm of bugs from above, bunching together before parting as soon as they hit the earth’s atmosphere. The Chitauri started attacking the streets below; their weapons blasted anything in sight, human or not. Loud explosions could be heard at every corner, blazing fires emerged from the streets, and the tall, mighty skyscrapers that towered above any human, fell into a pile of broken rubble and dust. Loki stood proudly as he gazed down, staring at the battle in his glory. Loki closed his eyes as he heard the screams of mortal beings fleeing from the chaos—it seemed too beautiful, finally, a world where he was crowned and worshipped. The word “worshipped” meant so much in Loki’s mind, a world built in his name, a world he could call his own.

However, the dream ended when a worthy foe appeared in his presence.

“And, what fool dares to challenge me at my hour of triumph?” Loki asked with a mischievous grin. He knows how this will end, another mortal who shall bite the dust or join his army.

“One that values freedom for their country” A familiar voice struck Loki with recognition.

It was Captain America, the first avenger, the first fighter for freedom, and a patriotic hero beloved by all. “A soldier” Loki grinned further. Was he serious? Is this mortal willing to battle a god? What a joke.

“I’m giving you one last chance, Loki; stand down,” Captain America ordered.

“Never!” He furiously hissed.

Loki blasted a magical force from his scepter, and Captain America quickly dropped and rolled out of the way. He was determined; he didn’t back down while his country was attacked. Captain America threw his shield in a straight line; the blue and white shield flew at an unnatural speed, the circular disk spinning in a smooth motion as it aimed toward Loki. However, Loki used his scepter to ‘whack’ the shield out of the way. Captain America tossed his shield repeatedly in all directions. He was determined to defeat the god of mischief. Captain America ran up to Loki, punching him square in the jaw only—it didn’t affect him. Loki hit Captain America on his back to knock him over, but Steve quickly pushed himself up and dodged the oncoming scepter smashing into the ground. Captain America held his fists up, his legs facing in a fighting stance; he was prepared to take on Loki.

“I can do this all day,” Steve determinedly said.

Captain America came in again, rushing toward Loki with his hands curled into a fist. One punch after the other, swing after swing, Captain America fought with all his might against the God of Mischief. Loki turned his scepter in a perfect balance, following Captain America’s attacks. It was a fight to the death that would last between two powerful men: one a god and the other an artificial soldier. The difference between fighting Thor and Loki was that Thor relied heavily on his strength while Loki relied on his agility and wit. After the last punch, Captain America pushed Loki off to retrieve his shield. Loki prepared to defend himself from more of Steve’s attacks. Captain America looked directly into Loki’s eyes; he threw the shield with all his strength. The shield’s impact was so powerful that it knocked him onto his back. Loki’s crown fell off with a loud ‘clank’ to the ground. Perhaps he was wrong; mortal heroes were undoubtedly more formidable than they seemed.

This didn’t stop the god of mischief; however, he was still willing to take down this artificial soldier. He was a god, after all, a deity more powerful than man. All it took was one hit, and Captain America shall be no more. Loki curled his hands into fists; his own dark, raven hair that was once slicked back was now unkempt; strands of his black hair dangled down the side of his pale face.

“Come soldier, are you still prepared to fight for your weak brethren” Loki teased threateningly.

Captain America grabbed his shield as he was prepared to fight God, though something significant impacted Steve on the head. He lost his balance as he held his hands to his head. Loki stared in blatant confusion, knowing he wasn’t using any magic to force something that heavy on Steve’s head. Captain America turned to his side to see where the oncoming impact came from.

“Fuck you, motherfucker!! It’s your fault she’s dead!” a voice emerged from the pile of rubble.

Loki was astounded yet kept quiet and watched in confusion toward this angered human.

Captain America immediately turned to the Civilian; it was a woman with tear stains on her face and messy hair. Captain America tried to order her, “Mam, you’ve been ordered to evacuate the area!”.

“No! Y-you’re supposed to be a hero; what kind of hero allows an innocent person to die!” the woman stood her ground.

“I understand your frustration, mam, but please, we are trying to take everything under control,” Captain America reasoned with the angered woman.

Captain America was frustrated that this lady wouldn’t listen; however, only to his astounded horror did he realize his shield had hit a Chitauri ship earlier. He was so focused on defeating Loki; he didn’t know the risk to the other civilians surrounding the area. Steve gazed at the fallen ship; beneath its crushed underside was a woman’s body. Steve felt horrible; he looked at the woman with a guilty expression.

“I’m sorry, mam, I had no intention of—.”

“Intention of saving those innocent bystanders,” the woman snapped.

The woman, named y/n, didn’t care if Captain America was brave or good-hearted; he killed off the one woman who meant the whole world to her. Y/n’s mother. She was the most audacious and kindest soul any could know. She sacrificed herself to save her daughter’s life, a tough decision that couldn’t be made quickly. It was always a battle between the heroes and villains, yet, they were all the same. No matter where who, or what they fought, it was always the same. Heroes do more damage, just like villains.

While Steve was distracted, a Chitauri emerged from behind the car, holding a dagger. Captain America couldn’t react fast enough for the alien to take hold of y/n by the hair. “FUCK YOU- AH!” she screamed, wrestling with the grey-armored, hideous E.T. off her. Before she could react, a blue strain of light formed beneath the woman. “I thank you, soldier, for the fight. However, you were getting a little boring, so I’ll take my farewells and leave your pathetic world behind,” Loki smirked. Y/n screamed out to Captain America; Steve rushed to try and save the civilian that hit him with ash felt earlier. Only, he didn’t grab her fast enough.

Loki shot a blue beam of light into the sides of the buildings; the buildings all started to tumble down as Loki escaped.

With the puny, feisty human.

[ripells]

hey hey hey can you can you tell me about one of your D&D characters and their beautiful tragic backstory so i can draw them

oh man i gotta think about which one i wanna talk about uhhhhh for one of my friend's campaigns I had this character named kyoluine (k-woah-lune) who was the god of courage. he was really arrogant and cocky and frequently toyed with mortals and his servants alike until a war for power broke out between him and another deity he had never heard of before, fircuel (fur-sool). he believed the battle to be simple as many of his battles had been before, but slowly, he began to lose the people fighting on his side either due to them dying or them switching to fircuel's side. she was just too beautiful, too alluring, too manipulative, too strong to stand against, and kyoluine was no god of strength. he was the god of courage, and courage does not equal strength. a weak man who is overly courageous and arrogant is nothing but a fool, after all. he was then faced with betrayal and death until finally, he was captured by fircuel's army and taken as prisoner.

in captivity, he became extremely self loathing. he no longer saw himself as the god of courage, only as a coward who once had the arrogance to falsely call himself a powerful god. fircuel would regularly come down and berate him, rubbing his defeat in his face and giving him horrible treatment, until one day him and a few other people appeared in a white room in firceul's palace. kyoluine only knew one of them: serenity. serenity was kyoluine's favorite and most trusted servant. she had betrayed him to switch to fircuel's side during the war, and despite how angry he felt he should be, he just couldnt muster any rage up. all he felt was that he deserved it. fircuel appears and tells them that they are here to gain love and knowledge.

the group, consisting of kyoluine, serenity, vanollia (a random angel), annika (fircuel's muse), and gojo (i kid you not this was his character's name. he was a new angel.) venture out through the rooms. as they go, they find more information about the castle and fircuel. after going through the rooms, they find themselves separated with marks on their body. kyoluine's was inked arms and the number 3939 under his eye. in the room, he encounters deusama, serenity's predecessor and the servant kyoluine believed had died. he tries to speak to her, but she says that she is proud of having ran away and then kyoluine passes out.

they wake up together in a bland room with everyone in it + deusama. they realize she looks like fircuel, but before anything significant happens, fircuel rips deusama's head off, looking visibly mad. she starts choking kyoluine out of anger but drops it after a bit and cruelly reveals that she was deusama, kyoluine's first and most beloved servant. then, they enter a chase scene where the players have to run away from mummy like entities. kyoluine gains the courage once more to go and save a few of the other players, but when they get outside of the castle, they are met with a barrier that wont let them out. fircuel reveals that all the knowledge they had gained just corrupted them and forced them to stay with her.

there was never an escape. all that hope, all that time kyoluine spent waiting to finally be free was for naught, as he was now trapped, forced to be the servant of the one he once called his. so basically love corrupted kyoluine, serenity, and vanollia (example: if you look in one of the mirrors in the palace, those three would see fircuel hugging them from behind. that also gives them a +1 on corruption.) and knowledge corrupted annika and gojo (example: reading a book foreshadowing fircuel's backstory gave them a +1 on corruption.)

in terms of appearance he has long, messy crimson hair, a long tattered black coat with a red star patterned undercoat, baggy tattered pants, a messy white button up shirt, and eyes completely just orange. you can add or change his design however you want id love to see any more ideas for his design!!! also dude sorry about how long this was LMAOOO i wanted to give the whole story to its end and it was a oneshot so i was like "why not"

[dfroza]

“because we are joined by faith as family, and your faith is spreading across the world”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 1st chapter of the letter of Romans:

Paul, a servant of Jesus the Anointed called by God to be His emissary and appointed to tell the good news of the things promised long ago by God, spoken by prophets, and recorded in the Holy Scriptures. All of this good news is about His Son: who was (from a human perspective) born of David’s royal line and ultimately designated to be the true Son of God with power upon His resurrection from the dead by the Spirit of holiness. I am speaking of Jesus, the Anointed One, our Lord.

And here’s what He’s done: He has graced us and sanctioned us as His emissaries whose mission is to spread the one true and obedient faith to all people in the name of Jesus. This includes you: you have been called by Jesus, God’s Anointed.

To all those who are God’s beloved saints in Rome:

May grace and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus, the Anointed One, surround you.

First, I thank my God through Jesus the Anointed for all of you because we are joined by faith as family, and your faith is spreading across the world. For I call God as my witness—whom I worship in my spirit and serve in making known the gospel—He alone knows how often I mention you in my prayers. I find myself constantly praying for you and hoping it’s in God’s will for me to be with you soon. I desperately want to see you so that I can share some gift of the Spirit to strengthen you. Plus I know that when we come together something beautiful will happen as we are encouraged by each other’s faith.

If, my brothers and sisters, you did not already know, my plans were set to meet you in Rome, but time and circumstances have forced every trip to be canceled until now. I have deeply desired to see some good fruit among you just as I have seen with so many non-Jewish believers. You see, I am in tremendous debt to those of various nationalities, from non-Jews to barbarians, from the wisest of the wise to the idle wanderer. So you can imagine how eager I am to join you and to teach the good news in the mighty and diverse city of Rome.

For I am not the least bit embarrassed about the gospel. I won’t shy away from it, because it is God’s power to save every person who believes: first the Jew, and then the non-Jew. You see, in the good news, God’s restorative justice is revealed. And as we will see, it begins with and ends in faith. As the Scripture declares, “By faith the just will obtain life.”

For the wrath of God is breaking through from heaven, opposing all manifestations of ungodliness and wickedness by the people who do wrong to keep God’s truth in check. These people are not ignorant about what can be known of God, because He has shown it to them with great clarity. From the beginning, creation in its magnificence enlightens us to His nature. Creation itself makes His undying power and divine identity clear, even though they are invisible; and it voids the excuses and ignorant claims of these people because, despite the fact that they knew the one true God, they have failed to show the love, honor, and appreciation due to the One who created them! Instead, their lives are consumed by vain thoughts that poison their foolish hearts. They claim to be wise; but they have been exposed as fools, frauds, and con artists— only a fool would trade the splendor and beauty of the immortal God to worship images of the common man or woman, bird or reptile, or the next beast that tromps along.

So God gave them just what their lustful hearts desired. As a result, they violated their bodies and invited shame into their lives. How? By choosing a foolish lie over God’s truth. They gave their lives and devotion to the creature rather than to the Creator Himself, who is blessed forever and ever. Amen. This is why God released them to their own vile pursuits, and this is what happened: they chose sexual counterfeits—women had sexual relations with other women and men committed unnatural, shameful acts because they burned with lust for other men. This sin was rife, and they suffered painful consequences.

Since they had no mind to recognize God, He turned them loose to follow the unseemly designs of their depraved minds and to do things that should not be done. Their days are filled with all sorts of godless living, wicked schemes, greed, hatred, endless desire for more, murder, violence, deceit, and spitefulness. And, as if that were not enough, they are gossiping, slanderous, God-hating, rude, egotistical, smug people who are always coming up with even more dreadful ways to treat one another. They don’t listen to their parents; they lack understanding and character. They are simple-minded, covenant-breaking, heartless, and unmerciful; they are not to be trusted. Despite the fact that they are fully aware that God’s law says this way of life deserves death, they fail to stop. And worse—they applaud others on this destructive path.

The Letter of Romans, Chapter 1 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

According to Paul, in and by itself, the gospel is power—God’s power. The simple message of Jesus brings healing and rescue to all people. It starts with God’s people, the Jews, but does not end until all people hear and respond to its call.

The gospel reveals how right and faithful God has been all along. It begins with God’s faithfulness to His creation and His covenant people. Then God acts, finally and decisively, in the cross of Jesus. For Paul the cross, more than any other event, displays Jesus’ faithfulness to God the Father. As the Gospels tell us, in the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus entrusts Himself completely to God’s will. As a result, this good news brings faith and hope to those who hear and respond to its elegant message. Because God is faithful, He acts in a most extraordinary way. Somehow in the scandal of the cross, He offers His own Son in order to redeem the fallen world.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 12th chapter of the book of Exodus:

Eternal One (to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt): Mark this month as the first month of all months for you—the first month of your year. Declare this message to the entire community of Israel: “When the tenth day of this month arrives, every family is to select a lamb, one for each household. If there aren’t enough people in the family to eat an entire lamb, then they should share a lamb with their nearest neighbor according to how many people are in the neighbor’s family. Divide the portions of the lamb so that each person has enough to eat. Choose a one-year-old male that is intact and free of blemishes; you can take it from the sheep or the goats. Keep this chosen lamb safe until the fourteenth day of the month, then the entire community of Israel will slaughter their lambs together at twilight. They are to take some of its blood and smear it across the top and down the two sides of the doorframe of the houses where they plan to eat. That night, have them roast the lamb over a fire and feast on it along with bitter herbs and bread made without yeast. Do not eat any meat raw or boil it in water; only eat the meat after the entire animal has been roasted over a fire with its head, legs, and intestines attached. Eat whatever you can, but don’t leave any of it until morning; whatever is left over in the morning burn in the fire. Here is how I want you to eat this meal: Be sure you are dressed and ready to go at a moment’s notice—with sandals on your feet and a walking stick in your hand. Eat quickly because this is My Passover.

I am going to pass through the land of Egypt during the night and put to death all their firstborn children and animals. I will also execute My judgments against all the gods of the Egyptians, for I am the Eternal One! The blood on the doorframes of your houses will be a sign of where you are. When I pass by and see the blood, I will pass over you. This plague will not afflict you when I strike the land of Egypt with death.

This will be a day for you to always remember. I want you and all generations after you to commemorate this day with a festival to Me. Celebrate this feast as a perpetual ordinance, a permanent part of your life together. You are to eat bread made without yeast for seven days. On the first day get rid of any yeast you find in your house. Anyone who eats bread made with yeast during the seven festival days must be cut off from the rest of Israel. On the first day of the festival and again on the seventh, gather the community together for a time of sacred worship. No one may work on those two days except to prepare what every person needs to eat. Celebrate the Feast of Unleavened Bread because it commemorates the day that I led your forces out of Egypt. Honor and celebrate this day throughout all your generations as a perpetual ordinance, a permanent part of your life together. From the evening of the fourteenth day of that first month to the evening of the twenty-first day of that month, eat bread made without yeast. No yeast is to be found in any of your houses during the seven festival days. Whoever eats anything that has yeast in it must be cut off from the community of Israel. It doesn’t matter whether he is a foreigner or a native; the same standards apply. During the seven festival days, do not eat anything made with yeast; wherever you live and gather together, be sure you eat only unleavened bread.

Then Moses called all of Israel’s elders together and gave them instructions.

Moses: Go and pick out lambs for each of your families, and then slaughter your family’s Passover lamb. Take a handful of hyssop branches, dip them down into the bowl of blood you drained from the sacrifice, and mark the top of the doorway and the two doorposts with blood from the bowl. After you do this, no one should go out that door until the next morning.

The Eternal will pass through the land during the night and bring death to the Egyptians. But when He sees the blood-markings across the tops of your doorways and down your two doorposts, He will pass over your houses and not allow His messenger of death to enter into your houses and strike you down. You and all your descendants are obligated to keep these instructions for all time. Even after you arrive in the land the Eternal has promised you—the land flowing with milk and honey—you must keep these instructions and perform this ritual. When your children ask you, “What does this ritual mean to you?” you will answer them, “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Eternal, for He passed over the houses of the Israelites when we were slaves in Egypt. And although He struck the Egyptians, He spared our lives and our houses.”

When Moses finished these instructions, the people bowed down and worshiped.

The Israelites went and did as they were instructed; they were obedient to what the Eternal had commanded Moses and Aaron.

Now this is what happened: at midnight, He struck down all the firstborn sons in Egypt—from the firstborn son of Pharaoh, who sat on his throne, to the firstborn son of the prisoners locked in the dungeon, and even the firstborn of all the livestock in the land. Pharaoh woke up during the night. He wasn’t the only one. His servants, as well as all of the Egyptians in the land, had awoken. A great scream shattered the night in Egypt, for there was not a single Egyptian house where someone was not dead.

Pharaoh sent for Moses and Aaron before the night was over.

Pharaoh (to Moses and Aaron): Get up and get out. Leave my people right now—you and all the rest of the Israelites. Go and worship this god of yours, the Eternal One, just as you have said. Take your flocks and your herds as well with you—just as you said—and go! But bless me on your way out!

The Egyptians frantically urged the people of Israel to hurry and leave their land.

Egyptians (imploring): If you do not leave soon, we will all be dead.

So the Israelites hurried. They took their bread dough before any yeast had been added, packed up their kneading bowls, wrapped them in some of their clothing, and carried them on their shoulders.

The people of Israel also did what Moses had told them to do; they asked the Egyptians for items made of silver and gold, and they asked for extra clothing as well. The Eternal caused the Egyptians to have a favorable attitude toward His people, so the Egyptians fulfilled these requests and gave the people what they asked for. This is how the Israelites stripped the Egyptians of their valued possessions.

The Israelites left and traveled from Rameses to Succoth. There were about 600,000 men, plus all the women and children. Another crowd, made up of various and sundry peoples, accompanied them, as well as herds, flocks, and a great number of livestock. They baked flat bread along the way from the dough without yeast which they carried with them from Egypt. The dough had no yeast because the people had been rushed out of Egypt, and they did not have enough time to gather food supplies for themselves.

The Israelites had lived in the land of Egypt for a total of 430 years. On the last day of their 430th year, all the forces belonging to the Eternal left the land of Egypt. This was the night when the Eternal kept watch over His people and brought them safely out of the land of Egypt; now this night is to be kept by His people, to be celebrated by all of the people of Israel throughout all generations.

Eternal One (to Moses and Aaron): This is the requirement for Passover: no foreigner or outsider should eat this meal. But every slave bought with money may participate in this celebration if he has been initiated into the community by circumcision. No temporary residents or paid servants may share in it. The meal must be eaten in only one house. Don’t take any of the meat outside. Not one of the lamb’s bones shall be broken. The entire community of Israel must celebrate it. If you have outsiders living among you and they want to celebrate the Passover to the Eternal with you, then all the men must agree to be circumcised. Only after circumcision may they join in and celebrate with you; then you must treat them as if they were native-born. But make sure no uncircumcised male eats any part of the sacred meal. The same instruction applies to everyone equally—without distinction—the native as well as the outsider who is living among you.

Then all of the Israelites did exactly as the Eternal had instructed Moses and Aaron to do. On that same day, He led the Israelites as they marched out of the land of Egypt like an army.

The Book of Exodus, Chapter 12 (The Voice)

A set of notes from The Voice translation:

Perhaps the best way to look at the confrontation between Moses and Pharaoh is as a contest to see who truly is God. In Egypt Pharaoh is considered a god. He has certain powers and abilities, and the might of Egypt resides with him. When Moses and Aaron appear before him to demand the release of the Hebrew slaves, each refusal becomes an occasion for the True God to demonstrate His superiority over Pharaoh and all the other gods of Egypt. Each successive miracle attacks deeper into the heart of Pharaoh’s power and politics. Slowly but surely, Pharaoh’s power is subverted until God breaks Pharaoh’s grip on the people of Israel completely. With the final miracle everything begins to unravel: the death of the firstborn is personal for Pharaoh.

•

For many years the Egyptians stripped the people of Israel of their lives, labor, and dignity. God’s justice demands that Israel be paid for all they lost.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, may 3 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about being made One with Love:

Most of our deepest anxieties come from the fear of death, whether we are conscious of this or not... Death represents fear of the unknown, fear of being abandoned, fear of being rejected, fear of being separated from others, and so on. I am so glad Yeshua gives us eternal life, which for me is not so much about immortality of the soul as it is being loved and accepted by God... That is what "at-one-ment" means, after all (John 17:22-23). Because God loves and accepts us, we trust Him to be present for us, even in the darkest of hours, on the other side of the veil, where he there “prepares a place for us” (John 14:2). As Yeshua said, "I tell you the solemn truth, the one who hears my message and believes the One who sent me has eternal life (חַיֵּי עוֹלָם) and will not be condemned, but has passed (i.e., μετά + βαίνω, lit., "crossed over" [עָבַר]) from death to life" (John 5:24). God's love “crosses over” from death to life and now forever sustains me.

Our Torah reading for this week (Acharei Mot) provides details about Yom Kippur, or the "Day of Atonement," a special service that gave ritual expression of God's love by making purification for our sins. As I’ve explained before, the word for love (i.e., ahavah: אהבה) equals the number thirteen (1+5+2+5=13), but when shared it is multiplied: 13 x 2 = 26, which is the same value for the Sacred Name (יהוה), i.e., (10+5+6+5=26). Likewise the Hebrew word for "life" is chayim (חַיִּים), is written in the plural to emphasize that life cannot be lived alone but must be shared. Notice that within the word itself are embedded two consecutive Yods (יי), representing unity in plurality (Yod-Yod is an abbreviation for YHVH, also indicating the “deep Akedah” of Father and Son). God gave up His life so that we can be in relationship with Him, that is, so that we can be "at-one" with His heart for us. Whatever else it may mean, then, the Hebrew word for “atonement” (i.e., kapparah, “covering,” “protection,” “purification,” “forgiveness”) is about accepting God’s heart for you - being unified in his love - and if you miss that, you’ve missed the point of the Torah's teaching....

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 118:17 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm118-17-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm118-17-lesson.pdf

5.3.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365:

For many centuries, the majority of Christians believed exactly this mistake, that God had ended His covenant with Israel. The nation of Israel does not deny the gravity of our betrayal of God. We sinned. And our exile and suffering are well-deserved. But we also never stopped believing and knowing that God would redeem us from exile and gather us back to our land, not for our sake, but for the sake of His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And that covenant is forever.

God’s promises to the Jewish people are eternal, not because they are earned or deserved, but because God’s promises to the patriarchs are irrevocable. Those theologians who mistakenly thought that God had forsaken Israel fell into the mistake predicted by Moses.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

May 3, 2024

Redeeming the Time

“See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” (Ephesians 5:15-16)

This incisive expression—“redeeming the time”—occurs also in Colossians 4:5: “Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time.” The Greek word for “redeem” means to “buy back,” to “ransom,” or even to “rescue.” That is, time is a very valuable asset in danger of being lost forever unless it is rescued or redeemed.

As a matter of fact, time is just about the most valuable asset we have. If we squander our money or lose our health, there is always the possibility of earning more money or being restored to health, but wasted time is gone forever. In our text, those who are wise redeem the time, whereas those who are fools waste or misuse it. The word in the original for “circumspectly” is translated “diligently” in Matthew 2:7. The text thus indicates that those who redeem the time are walking diligently; the parallel passage in Colossians 4:5 says they are walking in wisdom. The time God gives us, therefore, should be used both carefully and diligently.

The marvelous passage in the 139th Psalm that describes the growth of the human embryo concludes with a remarkable declaration: “In thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16). The words “my members” are not in the original, and “in continuance” is actually the Hebrew word for “days.” Thus, the verse is really telling us that all of our days were written in God’s book even before we were conceived. Each day of our lives is vitally important in the plan of God.

“So,” as Moses prayed to the Lord, “teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). HMM

[maguro13-2]

Demons Unleashed ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Pt. 11 ~

Seto : Hmmm...Just as I predicted, the real Maka Albarn had been framed for a long time since she wanted to prove her innocence.

Disc-Chan : It's most likely that, Seto. The only reason Shinra's man-made wanted to monopolize political power since we helped out Ethan to get back with his crew. I'm worried that he wasn't Shinigami, it was only a Kid to get the heartless' attention so that he could bring to annihilation on all magical forces and monopolizing political power. So what do you plan on stopping on Ohkubo's first protagonist, I'm gonna get things straight, when I collect the eight pure hearts that were connected to the eight pillars. Why does Shotaro and Death wanted the witches die so badly? Why was he doing this?

Seto : Because, Shotaro the Dokeshi is a fool to human kind and he created the ultimate taboo that is responsible for the Mabuki' race's creation. But in order to make them ordinary humans, I called upon the eyes of truth and to have their weapon-turning abilities ceased to function. That way we can somehow stop the heartless' attention on destroying the legacy Shinra created.

Disc-Chan : Good for you. Good for you. Can't wait for the new "Shinigami" to have your position ready.

Seto : I'm one step closer to becoming Shinigami, that's my title to protect. Alright then, where's that Yellow Pure Heart? The heart that is connected to the Third of the Eight vessels. Where could it be?

Angel Chaos (?) : So, you must be the Shinigami Deathless named Seto, I see.

Seto : Huh? Is this where the Yellow Pure Heart is found? Disc-Chan get me the analysis on who is this grown up version of the Angel Chaos Chao. I better to make sure how'd a Chao manage to grow to bear a resemblance to the God of Destruction.

*DBZ SFX : Scouter beeping*

Disc-Chan : Hmmm...Just as I expected, Sho Kusakabe.

Seto : Sho? What do you know about Sho? *gasped in shock*

*DBZ SFX : SUPRISE*

Seto : So this grown up version of a Angel Chaos Chao.

Disc-Chan : Is his resurrected form through reincarnation.

Seto : So this isn't Shinra's beloved, it's only his resurrected form?

Disc-Chan : Correct, he was the younger brother of Shinra Kusakabe and was an ex-leader of a group called Knights of the Ashen Flames. You see, Seto. Sho was under the protection of their mother Mari Kusakabe while being pawns to Demon Vibe corrupt game in order to destroy Shinra' reputation. But after the family defeated the Astral Puppet using the power of Soul Resonance, he, his family, and their people were scolded by the Time Eater for being puppets under the will of Demon Vibe and aninhilated them for years after Inca Kasugatani's execution.

Seto : So then...He resurrected himself by going through reincarnation into a Chao?

Disc-Chan : Close enough, a Chaos Chao bearing the resmblance to the God of Destruction and guardian of the Chao. So my guess is that Shinra's beloved Iris is not the Angel Chaos Chaos's mutated adult form.

Seto : What really happened to Iris?

Disc-Chan : The Iris that Shinra knew was gone. Her resurrection was completed from the process, but she has given with some strange demon-like eldritch powers.

Seto : Eldritch powers? What's so weird about that?

Disc-Chan : Seto. That's your cue.

Seto : Alright. Here, Sho. This would be good for your allowence. I have this bag of Rings to give you an offer. As a token of my appreciation, now give me the pure heart.

Sho : Why absolutely. (Seto gives him a bag of Rings) You truly are capable of being Shinigami. Did you get this bag from the casino?

Seto : Gambling addicition, nah, I only got it the bag of money from Casinopolis or Casino park.

Sho : Then where did you get the bag of money from, "BINGO"?

Seto : BINGO Highway.

Sho : This should cover my brother's allowence. Here. Have this. (shows the Yellow Pure Heart to Seto) You did a very good job on gambling at the Casino, I bestow you my gratitude, young lady.

Seto : It's my pleasure, give you a call. So now, be a good kid and give me the Pure heart, nice and easy. (About to take the Yellow Pure Heart from the Angel Chaos) This is just too easy. I hope it's not like taking candy from a baby and which is fine by me.

??? : Freeze! In the name of Casino Park Law under the laws of Ivo Robotnik, stay where you right are!

Seto : Oh Great! We've been caught red handed! Sorry to be bothered by you, officers. We we're only trying to collect the Yellow Pure Heart for...Hang Castle Secuirty Force, what are they doing here? And more importantly, whay are they dressed as bunny girls and are colored differently.

Disc-Chan : Uhh, Seto. I don't think that's Hang Castle Security Force.

Robot Pirate : Oops, I meant to say "Arrrgh"! We're actually Robot Pirates!

[I Refuse - Jun Senoue]

Seto : And you couldn't about robot pirates since we've been watching Tampa Bay going against the season play.

Disc-Chan : Robot Pirates?! Is someone playing the Idiot Box again!

??? : No we're not doing Idiot Box, We are robot pirates! That's metallic scurvy for ya! They say that I am the saltiest of all the sea dogs. They call me...Captain Whiskers!

"NEWCOMER : CAPTAIN WHISKERS HAIL FROM THE SEAS"

Disc-Chan : Oh brother! A robot pirate from the Sonic Universe. Did Eggman Nega ordered you to find the Jeweled Scepter somewhere?

Captain Whisker : All in favor, Aye!

Robot Pirates : Aye?

Sho : What why would an army of man-made machines to dress their selves as pirates? What trickery is this!? Where do you come from?

Captain Whisker : Pirates Island.

Seto : No way! Robot pirates from Robot Pirate Island. No way that's the Idiot Box, you pirates have been watching too much TV and movie. TV literally rots your brains.

Johnny : Sorry, babe. But we-re man-made as pirates, we don't mind watching too much television and movies as well.

Seto : Woah! Who are you buddy?

Johnny : I'm Johnny the Sultan, and I had a work for Captain Whisker.

[Whisker & Johnny - Tomoya Ohtani]

Johnny : So aren't you gonna give us the heart or what?

Captain Whisker : Hand over the Pure Heart nice and easy.

Sho : You greedy bastard! I won't let you hand it over! Not even your greedy pirates to think this stuff is treasure. But it's not worth of millions. Now I am giving this to the friendly people and it's not a marketing deal.

Captain Whisker : Than what could that be in in terms of piracy?

Nami : Hey, Metal Heads! Over here!

Robot Pirate : Wha-?

*SMASH+CLANG!*

Nami : You wanna have a fight with pirates, then you got a fight with this pirate that is so real! Plus I even got a staff, my own weapon. Time to bring out your local forecast, cause it's going to be for a heavy showdown!

Captain Whisker : Arrrgh! You meddling swabbies! I shall make you walk the plank for this! Ghost Pirate, take care of this wicked witch while we get after the Jeweled Scepter and the eight pure at once!

Ghost Pirate : Yes, Captain! Orders granted!

*DBZ SFX : Wall Hit/Crash*

Ghost Pirate : Avast ye mateys! I am going to make you swabbing the poop deck! Get ready for a duel against the Great Ghost Pirate.

Nami : Heh! Another machine to battle with. I don't how to say this, but you aren't a Ghost Pirate, just a machine made with mad science. Pretty figures how'd I got you cornered. Now then, Come and get me, you pile of scrap heap! You're in for a hero's welcome! You two, You go on ahead, I'll take care of these army of man-made machines to think they are pirates.

Seto : We'll do pleasures!

Disc-Chan : Just before you know it!

Sho : I must retreat now! *Instant Transmission*

Seto : Thanks for that, cat burgular.

Nami : [To Seto] It's Nami by the way.

Disc-Chan : Thanks for buying us some time to withdraw from this battle, Nami. You sure you can take on all of these machines?

Nami : Of course, I can take them all out. This is a Battle for me. But I am that much powerful.

Seto : We'll do!

Disc-Chan : Be careful and have a good clean fight! (the two leaves)

Nami : Alright...Prepare to get your butt kicked! Cause it's Nami Time!

~ Stage 11 : Pirates of the Sol Dimension ~

[sowingseedsandshootinghoops]

Dreams Deferred: The Destructive Effects of Descrimation

Note on the text: I used Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure as published in 1989 by Bantam Books

What happens to a dream differed?/Does it dry up/like a raisin in the sun?/Or fester like a sore-/and then run?/Does it stink like rotten meat?/Or crust and sugar over like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags/like a heavy load

Or does it explode? (Langston Hughes, Harlem)

It explodes. It definitely explodes and takes down every vestige of your life with it. Or at least that’s what happens to Jude Fawley, the simple stone mason at the heart of Thomas Hardy’s 1895 novel.

When we first meet Jude he is a smart, kind, and precocious kid who is determined to make a name for himself. Even more specifically he is a working class man who is interested in ancient Latin and Greek who dreams of becoming a scholar. To that end he wants to go to college and get a degree because it “is the necessary hallmark of a man who wants to do anything in teaching” (10).

Now it is immediately obvious that Jude is an extremely hardworking man who is more than willing to put in whatever time and effort he needs to in order to get things done. He knows that in order to even stand a chance of getting into a university and becoming a professor he has to be at least as educated, if not more so, as his upper class counterparts. To that end he finds some books on Ancient Greek and Latin and starts to teach himself, which he is eventually able to master. It is a Herculean task in a lot of ways but eventually he is not able to read and write in those languages, but is able to quote the Bible and all the great Latin and Greek authors in their original language.

Not only is Jude smart but he is also a very kind person who “cannot bear to hurt anything” (17). Time and time again he goes out of his way to help people, even those who, like Arabella, have been really cruel to him. Arabella who calls him a “tender hearted fool” when he is forced to slaughter his beloved pet pig, and later says that there has never been “such a tender fool as Jude [especially if] a woman seems to be in trouble and coaxes him a little” (68, 283). So it’s obvious that Jude is, in every respect, just as worthy as anyone else is of seeing his dreams be fulfilled: “I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you: yea who knoweth not such things as these?” (Job 12:3 as quoted by Jude on page 126).

So when he realizes that his dreams of becoming a scholar and a teaching must be eternally deferred because he is too poor to go to school the result is incredibly harrowing and depressing, and thus begins his gradual descent into his own personal Hell:

This terribly sensible advice exasperated Jude. He knew it was true. Yet it seemed a hard slap after ten years of labor and its effect on him just now was to make him rise recklessly from the table and, instead of reading as usual, [decide to go out and get drunk] (124).

It’s while he’s at the bar, staring at his fellow patrons that he comes upon what in many ways is the central theme of the book:

He began to see that the town life was a book of humanity infinitely more palpitating, varied and compendious than the gown life. These struggling men and women before him were the [real] reality [of the city] of Christminster (125).

It’s at this moment that his life begins the downward trajectory that will result in him dying alone and unhappy. Jude is a shining example of the negative effects that discrimination can have on the marginalized. Because dreams that have been arbitrarily strangled and made to die for reasons outside of a person control do not die quietly. They explode.

[lya-dustin]

A Preview for the Bridgerton! AU

Aemond x male!reader ft.lesbian!Helaena and so many refrences to Rhaena Targaryen, the OG Targaryen Lesbian and rider of Dreamfyre.

Thank you @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly for the idea

Gif by @divineandmajesticinone

It was heard from the Lonely Light to Asshai by the Shadow that if a man wants to court the princess, he must win her brothers’ favor first. So far, no one has been able to secure Prince Aemond’s blessing.

After Helaena and Aegon petitioned their father to stop Ser Otto and the Queen to force them into marriage, court had been filled to the brim with eligible bachelors.

All simpering fools who have the ambition to rival that of his grandsire and none of the personality nor good nature Laenor, the last man to marry a princess, had

Laenor ---despite his life of sin--- had been knighted in battle, able to charm birds off trees and, most importantly, a dragonrider.

Laenor had also not given a rat’s arse about what his wife did behind closed doors ---or in the stables as Aemond and Aegon discovered a lifetime ago.

This last part is of paramount importance due to what Aemond knows about his beloved sister.

Sweet Helaena should have been named Rhaena, he thinks as he tries to stop mother hearing his sister calling Lady Elisa Piper her darling wife.

Helaena did not care if her husband loved her or lived that long and often could not discern between friend or foe, so it fell on Aemond to be the shield who protects her from the rakes and Androw Farmans in the lists.

Being her favorite brother and the only one who cares about her wellbeing, was not an easy job, but only he could do it.

Aegon just wanted her married so their dear mama could stop trying to annul his marriage to Cassandra Baratheon.

Daeron was too young and believed the choice should fall on whoever Helaena liked.

Only Rhaenyra backed this scheme of his, horribly enough.

The Princess of Dragonstone is known for having a good eye for men, Ser Criston had grumbled bitterly ---not that Aemond cared to ask for context about his acrimonious feelings towards his elder sister.

She and Daemon would host the suitors in Dragonstone ---she was in confinement due to the imminent birth of her sixth child--- and send him the list of those whose characters they considered good enough for Helaena along with more profuse apologies from her brood of Strong Boys.

The one-eyed prince found himself forgiving Lucerys after the forty-ninth letter written about his guilt and wished to offer his own eye in recompense.

“Perhaps, number nine and forty will win your approval.” Helaena had said as they met this man whom their sister gave a glowing recommendation.

He dressed well, was a knight and a lord.

Lord (Y/N) (L/N) was also handsome, charming and not a piece of dragonshit, or so Daemon had assured him in his letter.

Perfect for my sweet Helaena, Rhaenyra had added in hers.

“You said the same thing about numbers one to eight and forty, mandia.” Aemond said as he eyed you like a horse being brought forth by the horse courses yesterday.

[sangonohyuka]

Beomgyu being so obsessed with his girlfriend he always touching her, ALWAYS. And beomgyu is a gamer right? He even spend a lot of money for his games, the way he ready to drop his game, just for u because no matter how good the game is, u always be the number one priority. Also, maybe this is just me projecting but I think beomgyu rarely call his gf by their real name, he always have cute nickname for u!! And, you expect him to be vanila and soft in bedroom, coddling you and everything, but turn out he is mean and a TEASE. I love this dynamic and it suit beomgyu so much😆

💭 gamer! boyfriend beomgyu but the catch is he's a sucker for your existence? SIGN ME UP ANON UR SO BIG BRAIN ILY MWAH <33

warning: NSFW, sub! afab reader, use of feminine nicknames, dom! beomgyu, fluff at the beginning, degradation, praising, orgasm denial, lots of teasing, dacryphilia, dumbification, humiliation, a lil thigh pinching, mating press yass

again, wrote this at 2AM so sorry for the mistakes 😭

gamer! boyfriend beomgyu who's quite the geek for his beloved video games— always so competitive in his gameplays, setting the 'win and earn that winner title' as his top priority. but when we're talking about you on stake? simple: his choice would always be you.

no matter how important the ranked match he's competing in, he's ready to drop it there and then if you call for him. you can ask him to cuddle with you when he's in the middle of a game and he'd happily oblige, immediately shutting his computer down— sometimes even forgetting to save his gamefiles.

beomgyu is surely the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for! always so loving, caring, and attentive— his soft and gentle demeanor led you to believing that beomgyu is without any doubts, a vanilla person. i mean, how can't he when he's almost like the human embodiment of an angel?

oh, how naive you had to be.

of course, his sweet personality was no facade, yet it perfectly kept the beast hidden within— fooling you into thinking that beomgyu would be coddling you with his sickly intoxicating praises.

here you are now, straddled underneath with both of your hands pinned right above your head as you whimpered from the feeling of his hot breath trickling on the skin of your neck. not to mention, your entire state was a complete mess now: cheeks drenched in tears and drool, face burning red from the humiliation, and every part of you growing overly sensitive over the amount of teasing beomgyu tortured you with.

"what's wrong baby?" he cooed, voice full of innocence and faked emphaty as if he hadn't just denied your orgasm for the third time this night.

"b—beommie—"

"beommie what? use your words baby. you're not that dumb, aren't you?" he taunted in reply, satisfied with your pathetic state underneath.

nothing but incoherent noises left your throat, your cheeks heating up out of embarassment from your inability to even form proper words.

a dissapointed sigh left his lips, "not even halfway through and you're already slobbering like a dumb whore." the cruel nickname earned a whine from you, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes only for you to hear a mocking snicker from above.

"aww, is this too much for my baby?" he wrapped one of his hand firmly around your jaw, a sinister gaze boring into your teary ones.

"want me to be nice with you, hm?" he offered as he gently wiped your tears away with his thumb, the sweetness of his tone filled you with a hope that you've finally acquired his mercy. yet, you sensed something off, very off— especially the fact that beomgyu is now forcing your legs up, pushing them right against your chest as he adjusted himself infront of you.

"i asked you a question, answer me." he pinched your thigh softly, yet just enough for you to let out a pathetic yelp.

"y—yes! p-please," you begged as you felt your body aching for his touch, desperate for him to let you reach your high just for once. a laugh erupted from beomgyu, satisfied with the desperation in your hoarse voice.

with a sinister smirk plastered on his lips, beomgyu thrusted his hips in— filling you full only with a sharp thrust, going impossibly deeper as he held both your thighs, keeping them spread open. the tip of his cock felt like it's grazing on your cervix, earning a lewd whimper from you as you threw your head back from the overwhelming pleasure. with his cock still burried deep inside, his face leaned closer to yours— his lips brushing soflty against your swollen one with an unnoticeable gap between them.

"too bad darlin', i'm not done just yet with my fun."