#by god its HIS tri-state area and no one else can have it

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

Its not everyday a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the wood.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chip were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his batat its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Hall whispered to Hal.

[l1tw1ck]

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

I legit just see you randomly on my feed and your writing was really good and I thought why not? Since requests are open, may I request for yandere skyward sword link with goddess reader? Reader can either replace Zelda herself or is a whole other goddess that doesnt even belong or own Hyrule. Id love to see what else you have in store here!

Order up!

Sorry it’s been a while! I’ve been dealing with a lot these past two weeks but hopefully life will improve (?) Love this concept and there’s a mention of @monpalace’s idea with Skyloftians using shed loftwing feathers to propose. Not proofread, I am sorry, this took wayyyy too. Much like Link, i am eepy. That’s about all!

Hope you enjoy!~

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

There was little refuge for Link on the surface, that much he knew. That much the world made incredibly apparent. Aside from what little lands like that of the kikwi or the ancient temple, there was little non-hostile life. The sun was fading from the sky, Hylia’s light fading from the surface land, letting monsters run rampant across the untamed earth. Not a particularly pleasant situation given the stab wound he’d nursed, limping through the forest as he tried to find a way home. With no statues in sight, he resigned himself to his fate —alone within an unkind world. Not that it’s a first that he’s felt such a manner, everyone knew everyone in Skyloft, his business was never truly his. And with Groose and his goons taunting him for his every breath, there wasn’t much to say for company. He could be surrounded by people, and yet he was —to some level— still alone. That was, aside from Zelda, missing among this realm. There was some small, nagging part of him that wish he needn’t search for her. Sure, he valued her companionship, and yet… it’s been odd lately. Originally he kept from the sky to be with her once more. But now knowing he was a piece in a prophecy —one she knew, no less— he couldn’t help but question the authenticity of their friendship. He feels wrong about it to question. The hylian people serve Hylia, he should be grateful that he’s been sent on a mission she foretold. He should be so many things. It just seems added onto the pile of things he should be. More outgoing, Zelda would say after he’d share his difficulty with speaking to his peers. Less pathetic, Groose and his lackeys would sneer. Dead, He’d often think, looking at the bags under his eyes and tousled hair. So it seemed irrelevant that Hylia wished he’d be heroic. The small decaying temple looked surprisingly stable from the inside. Vines and mosses grew into the cracks within the marble, nature filling in where people could no longer support. The door was easily blocked and the main area was large enough to safely light a fire without smoking himself out. Above a plinth stood a statue, sharp imposing eyes glaring at whomever entered with judgement. Their face was alight with the golds of the fire, setting in the allure within his mind. Looking down past stone ceremonial robes were offerings, placed at their feet, still fresh despite the centuries since any people lived down here. A deity, he noticed a little too late. Perhaps it was sacreligious of him to stay here, the Hero of Hylia taking refuge in a different god’s home. But perhaps that kingdom has since crumbled, their blades too rusted to do him any harm. The blood seeping through his tunic was the least of his concerns as sleep pulled him in familiar as ever.

Link liked to sleep. It was safe and warm, something quite the contrast to the life he’d led. He wished many times both before his journey and since its onset that he could stay asleep forever. It’d be a blessing, to exist in such a state of peaceful serenity outside of a world defined by its wars. And yet, morning after morning, he’d awake to soft sunlight or be shoved out of his bed. Hylia did not wait on him. So waking up to fingers carding softly through his hair as a lullaby —one his memories could just barely grasp at— was a sharp contrast. He felt no pain in his stomach nor the jolt of adrenaline he was used to. Turning around sleepily, he saw you, the very deity he seeked refuge under. He scrambled to apologize, your sharp eyes looking down upon him as he lay strewn across your body.

“I’m- Oh- I-“ He could not, for whatever reason, speak. Much a common theme in his life that whenever he needed his words, they’d fly away faster than a loftwing. Strong arms tightened around him, shushes and soothes whispered to his pointed ears.

“Be at ease. Your goddess cannot find you here” The fingers resumed carding through his hair, twirling the uneven cuts. “You are safe, little hero” Your words bled with a care and endearment he had not been given in so long. His mind latched to you, to your care and your soft treatment of him. He let himself rest limply, telling himself that it would pass soon. Nothing ever stays this good for this long. And yet, there were no monsters to kick in the door or someone waiting on him. There was just you and him. And no other God watching. “She’s put you through so much.” Your statement hangs in the air as Link can’t find the words that dignify a response. “To wander in here bleeding as badly as you were.” His eyes widen and he does his best to pat his tunic, feeling for the blood. And yet there was none. Aside from the rip in the forest fabric, there was no signs of him ever being injured.

“What?” His brows furrowed and he found himself looking up to you. Your skin held an inhuman glint, a glow to it that needed no sun nor fire to illuminate. Your hunter’s eyes had no iris, a scalara of pure white looking back at him. Your lips here pulled to something of a mischievous smirk as you looked upon him.

“I fixed you.” Your tone was a little uncanny, voice unused to conversing. “I used to do it frequently for the before people” He felt his eyes widen marginally. He’d never heard of the ‘before people’ only if what came after them. He knew naught of their societies, nor their deities. You giggled at his curiosity, pressing lightly on his shoulders so he’d lay back down. “It’s been so long since i’ve had such lovely visitors” Your voice was a far off cry in his mind as he buried his face in the nape of your neck. There was no rushing of blood to lull his own rushing mind, and yet you soothed him all the same. “Rest now, little Hero. I will watch the world in your stead.

There were many times afterwards that he visited you. He’d put a beacon near the clearing where your quiet temple sat. Gone was the comfort of absence that came with sleep, that nullifying expanse of nothingness. Instead, he’d seek out you, the glow of your grace soothing the rage he now brought upon the world. At your Altar he’d leave gifts, anything you’d mentioned in passing or anything he knew must’ve been good. You’d offhandedly speak of how much you missed the ancient cistern, and he’d bring you its water. He’d gather the fruit of the Faron woods, making into pies and jam and alcohol for you to feed off of. It wasn’t often, but he’d occasionally get you blood or meat. Not common, he didn’t want to raise concerns, but he knew the spirits would strengthen you. You may have only had a one man clergy, but he was loyal to a fault. He cleared the surface of monsters so you could roam freely, basking in the moonlight as your fingers brushed the grass. His favorite gift to you came in the form of a plume of crimson feathers. You were quite oblivious to the meaning behind the exchange, instead cooing over the bright colors and imagining the majesty of the bird it came from. But he knew that maybe then the other half of his spirit —as the people said— would mingle with your own to care for you as much as you did him. Bound to you perhaps by fate and now with the matrimony of his gift to you, no longer would you lay forgotten to the world. He’d build an empire in your honor if it would be your wish. He’d kill the goddess who subdued you if it were your ruling. Afterall, he was prophesied to kill a deity.

[hikariale]

rite of life

For young minds that know nothing else, immortality is the basis that one's life operates on. When death rips your friend away, your heart is shattered and your world becomes a darker place. Your guardian tries to pick up the pieces in hopes that they can be put back together again.

warnings: death, mild gore, ask to tag

characters: fujin, liu kang, raiden

Fujin always told you that life is full of comings and goings. To cling to people too strongly when they decide to leave is to hold you both back. As a result of those words, you became somewhat aloof to the lives of others and failed to grow steady attachments with the mortals around you. It wasn't necessarily something that needed fixing, but Fujin began to fret about your ability to form ties with people who weren't gods. Given the solitary nature of gods, your options for socialisation were severely limited.

There was only so much that he could do as one who fell outside of the realm of mortals. Having gone through multiple arguments with Raiden, he knew that being too insistent would turn you away from the point he was trying to make. Living among humans was his greatest joy, but that was your baseline for as long as you could remember. Thinking that you would feel the same way by default, your earliest memories consisted of being carried around and greeted warmly by adults while seated comfortably on your guardian's hip. There was no desire to be rid of that company, so Fujin was mostly optimistic on the matter.

Whenever your gaze lingered on a human, Fujin would offer his hand to you. If you took it, he would lead you over to them, start a conversation, and then slowly fade into the background once he got the ball rolling. When he backed out of the scene, it would usually peter out quickly. Too young to relate much to adults and too otherworldly to easily converse with children who looked the same as you, it was easier to let a stranger slip away than struggle to keep them in place of their own volition. You formed a noncommittal attitude around strangers because of how much of a rush they seemed to be in. They had less time to stand around idly. It was a concept you knew of and tried to understand, but it manifested in that half-hearted way of talking to them.

That's why, when one started to talk to you, it was hard to respond or reciprocate appropriately. The first time it happened, Fujin took notice and jumped in to save the conversation before the stranger got put off and walked away.

Their name was Sonam. They were a nomad on a long pilgrimage, but you didn't really get what that was about. Things like reaching enlightenment and soul-searching were strange concepts to a young immortal who never had to dream of a peaceful forever. Outside of that grand quest, you found out that they were originally the third child of a travelling merchant family. The merchants were en route to Outworld, but after seeing its state of turmoil, they changed course. Sonam's family was taken by the beauty of Edenia, but Sonam alone chose to move beyond it.

You admired Sonam's will. To leave without one's family or even the promise of a better life, was terrifying. When you closed your eyes and tried to think of what it would be like to live without Fujin or Raiden watching out for you, your body grew tense with dread. More than the fighters of Earthrealm, you felt that Sonam was the most formidable human you ever met. Their steadfast will manifested in the way that they always sought you out while passing through the area.

Those interactions spurred you to begin keeping track of the passage of time. When the trees regained their leaves and the grass stood tall and green, Sonam would appear. Along with birdsong in the morning, Sonam returned. Sometimes they looked a little different. Their clothes would change or they'd come back with a small scar. Their face would look a little haggard or they'd carry a different assortment of items. But they always grinned broadly upon seeing you, opened up their arms to invite you for a long hug, and say that they missed you.

Fujin didn't always take you with him everywhere, but you were still well-travelled. Even so, Sonam's stories of their own travels made the world seem much vaster than you could imagine. Revisiting the same places every year like a migrating bird, Sonam found something new and spectacular in familiar locations. It was easy to tell that Sonam loved Earthrealm deeply. Though raised by two who took on the mantle of Earthrealm's protectors, you couldn't grasp what they saw in it until Sonam talked to you.

It saddened you when they didn't show up for a couple of years, but figuring that they may have moved on with life, you tried to let it go. In your stead, and without you knowing, Fujin searched for your lost friend. The only result of that search was... A letter. When you held it in your hands, your heart pounded wildly. You knew that opening it up would close a chapter of your life forever, so with a shaking voice, you quietly pleaded for Fujin to read the letter to you instead.

"My dear friend," Fujin sits down and invites you to sit against him as he reads, "I cannot meet you as I wish, but I hope that somehow my words can reach you. We may never talk again, but I would like to tell you one last story."

Sonam's final tale is just like all the others, but it doesn't shed any light on their disappearance. Fujin doesn't tell you anything either, though his face is solemn when you ask. Somehow, the words on the paper make you feel homesick. Ink covers it front and back, wasting zero space. You're afraid to take the letter back when Fujin finishes reading, afraid you might damage it.

It feels like someone drilled a hole through your chest. Longing to see your friend again, no matter what state they appear to you in, you almost want to curse the letter they left to you. Fujin watches your expression change. He sees the balling of your fists, the way you grit your teeth and alternate between pain and anger. Delicately, as if handling a single string of spider thread, Fujin rubs your back. It's a quiet consolation.

He knows that things aren't over yet. Until you can fully accept Sonam's passing, you cannot accept the idea of their death. And until you can do that, Fujin cannot offer any condolences. So instead, he lingers near you until the day you confront it, and he rubs your back when you're looking particularly down.

Long ago, when you were much younger, the Shaolin who would rock you in his lap and sing you lullabies died of old age. Preoccupied with the first Mortal Kombat tournament, Liu Kang returned from Outworld to find you surrounded by monks, wailing loud enough to pierce the Heavens. Because you were barely able to be considered a toddler, the only thing you knew was that the person you became so comfortable with was suddenly taken away from you. Caught off guard and unsure of whether it was too soon to introduce you to the concept of death, Liu Kang soothed you with a white lie:

"Earthrealmers are born with an incurable disease that makes their bodies to shut down with time."

He regretted that his lie caused you to develop an aversion to Earthrealmers, but he found solace in your friendship with an Edenian royal. To know that you were still willing to make friends smoothed out his growing concerns. Bolstered by the fact that your new friend stayed in good health as the centuries rolled by, you forgot all about the disease that took your first friend away.

In its place, an insidious force stalked your happy, peaceful days. An incredible violence began to sprout in Outworld's peaceful soils. As it rose from the ground, it speared through the bond you created like a force of nature, and you knew nothing of it until that point.

While eating Edenian pies with Lualhati, she fell into an aggressive coughing fit. Thinking that something went down the wrong way, you teased her for eating too fast while rubbing her back. It wasn't until she collapsed onto the table, begging hoarsely for help, that you realised that things were serious. When you ran out to find aid, your voice echoed through empty halls.

Since when did everybody leave? Why wasn't there anybody... Anywhere? No guards, attendants, not even a normal servant could be found.

Lualhati's coughing was reduced to wheezing when you returned to her side. It filled your ears, ragged and miserable. When you tried to help her sit up, streams of red poured from her lips and dribbled onto her beautiful robes. Without the tools to help her, you did your best to comfort her. Keep her clothes as clean as possible, even if you had to use your own to wipe away her blood and spit. Hold her hand and tell her that you called for help, but not that the palace was empty outside of the two of you. The room fell silent after her wheezing stopped. When you held her hand, she didn't squeeze back. The blood between your palms became sticky, unable to dry completely in the sealed pocket you both formed.

A portal opened up after your hundredth muttered plea to the gods, and answering your prayers was the one you depended on most.

"I have received some concerning news. I do not think it is safe for you or—" Liu Kang's heart sinks as soon as he notices the full situation. When you look up at him with a mix of hope and fear, he can barely meet your eyes.

"Help... Help Hati...!" at your weak request, Liu Kang's heart splits. He remembers the lie he told you. He was going to tell you about the inevitable, but he never expected Lualhati's life to be cut so short. That you would encounter death in one of its cruellest forms, all on your own, is something that makes him disappointed in himself as your guardian.

The weight of failing you, alongside your friend, takes him to the ground. He kneels next to you both and places a hand over yours. Your knuckles stick out prominently, fingers clamped down on Lualhati's cold hand. Instead of it leaking directly onto the floor, two napkins used to wipe up your friend's blood are crumpled up and discarded near your feet. Your sleeve and the front of your top is also soaked with it. Because he can't quite find the words for you yet, he pulls your head into his shoulder. The illusion of composure that you've kept up to then is melted away by his warmth. As it breaks down, Liu Kang knows he has to act. The blow has already been dealt. There is no way to soften it, so he has to do something other than just be there.

"You've tried your best, but there is nothing else that can be done," as he says this, he attempts to gently pry your fingers away from Lualhati's corpse. You resist him with strength you'd never displayed before. Any further supplications that he offers to you are drowned out by your wailing denials. When your hand finally lets go, Liu Kang's relief is short-lived. Once holding fast to your friend, it now grapples his shirt.

"You're a God, aren't you!? You have to do something! You have to!" pulling him down, trying to get him to look at Lualhati, you counter his soothing words with desperate begging.

It kills him to do so when you haven't done anything wrong, but he has to raise his voice to get a word in. When you fall into a stunned silence and release him, a bloody smear is left behind.

He rose his voice so authoritatively, yet he still can't find the right words. It's just like the first time: caught off guard, he isn't prepared to say what he needs to, but he doesn't want to leave you with nothing to hold on to. So he closes Lualhati's eyelids, offers a prayer for her to stall for time, and you're still there, crying into your scarlet-stained sleeves.

Liu Kang places a heavy hand on your head. Rubbing back and forth like he always does whenever you were afraid, he musters vague reassurances. They aren't nearly enough. It was something he should have said the first time. But it would have to suffice.

"This is not the end. For as long as you continue to love Lualhati, you will always be friends."

The Sky Temple was a terribly lonely place to raise a child. Though safe, it provided little else to do but meditate. Raiden knew this well, but it only truly sunk in that it was unfit for you when Fujin pointed out your lethargic behaviour.

"Children should be playing freely. Too much discipline will stunt their growth, brother," he advised. Having such an embarrassing oversight pointed out by his brother left Raiden scrambling for a solution that would leave you under his watchful eye while also granting you more freedom to roam and be a child.

It was no playground, but the Wu Shi Academy was well within Raiden's jurisdiction. Filled with trustworthy people and ample space to wander, his only concern was the altitude sickness that overcame you at the end of your descent. It was the most lively he'd seen you in a while, but that didn't mean much when you were clutching your head and groaning in pain. Before he could move to carry you up the stairs and through the gates, the voice of his closest disciple called his attention.

"Lord Raiden, is this a new initiate?" Kung Lao bowed respectfully, but his knitted brows betrayed his bewilderment. It wasn't unheard of to adopt children into the Order of Light, but given how the Mortal Kombat tournament loomed in the coming decade, bringing a new child into the fold without any warning felt like a bad omen. Such suspicions were not completely unfounded. Before answering, Raiden paused. Looking at his champion he suddenly saw a path forward for your development...

Through a period of time that would have been the blink of an eye if you actively lived more beforehand, Kung Lao became a pillar of your world. A mentor, a friend, an elder sibling, time could change the way that you interacted, but it never changed your attachment to him. He taught you how to fight and went as far as to widdle away at bamboo so you'd have a staff appropriate for your small stature.

"You're looking more like Raiden every year," he'd jest even though you barely aged a day. But whenever you spoke of that thing you'd heard about him, Champion of Earthrealm, he'd always change the subject. When you asked him if you could join him, he chuckled and said, "Those shoes are too big for you right now."

But you were taken under the wing of the Protector of Earthrealm. Sure, you couldn't wield his staff or shoot lightning, but you knew you could become a strong person. Stronger than Kung Lao even, though that would take a few decades more. Decades that the universe refused you.

A new Mortal Kombat tournament was decreed at the expected time. After fighting tooth and nail to be allowed to attend, you stood at the side lines to watch its proceedings. Earthrealm's other champions were impressive, but they could never compare to yours. Kung Lao's face was set into an expression you'd never seen before when it was his time to fight, but he still affectionately squeezed your hand on the way out when you reached out for him.

Thunk. Thud. Crack.

What a strange set of noises to hear a human body make in such quick succession. You know bruises and sprains. The sound of being thwacked on the arm as a punishment for messy defense is familiar to you, but this is a different sound. It's visceral and sickening. It makes the blood in your veins run cold until you're shaking. A four-armed giant looms over Kung Lao, and his shadow makes it look like his head is leaking ink instead of blood. You could write a poem in the sand by dipping a stick into the spreading puddle.

In the moments where you feel frozen in time, something wells up inside of you. What you think is a scream comes out far differently than you expect, tearing up your throat and propelling you forward.

"How could you!"

Kung Lao spares his opponents. Why can't he be spared? Isn't that completely unfair? You've never seen someone die until this tournament, but now you can instantly tell that he's never going to get up again.

"How dare you!"

Raiden can't grab you fast enough to stop your rush, but as Outworld's champion fills up more of your vision, crackling fills your ears. Your vision is overtaken by white strands of electricity and you find yourself striking air. Thin air, not enough to accommodate your angry heaving. Thunder rumbles over your head and lightning flashes in the clouds outside of your familiar living space. Forced to sit down, lest your consciousness fade completely, you try to close your eyes and imagine the arena again.

If Raiden can teleport you back to the Sky Temple and you are cut from a similar cloth as him, surely you can just teleport back. Try as you might, the only thing you can achieve is the image. Whenever you open your eyes, it's the same room that filled the monotonous days before you met Kung Lao. Your surroundings distort around you as tears begin to spill out.

They don't stop, even though it feels like you've been crying forever and your head aches. Raiden finally returns to see you clutching at your scalp, sucking in cold air that hurts your raw throat. You resemble a child having a meltdown at a playground after falling from the monkey bars and scraping open their knee, but he knows it's more than that. He regrets that it is more than that, and that he cannot understand the depth of your pain like he may have when he was younger.

You're angry at him too. He can tell by the way you try to avoid looking at him when he kneels in front of you. It's no way to have a conversation— definitely not the one that you need to have— so he doesn't push. Instead, he gingerly lays at your feet the red headband that Kung Lao always wore. It's completely soiled with blood and dirt, but you take it without reservation and cling to it like a lifeline.

"Why did you let this happen?" you question Raiden as he goes to leave. Between the sniffles and swallowed back sobs, he barely makes out what you're trying to say. His chest tightens and he cannot answer you. And you despise him for that.

[irkimatsu]

thinking about that fic I wrote where Husk is locked in his room and starts mutilating his wings in stress...

There isn't much you can do for him - you're not even supposed to be in here. You've only managed because of Niffty offering you use of her master key. "Just ask me whenever you want to punish the bad boy," she told you with a giggle. Does she really understand what's going on? Who knows... she's Niffty.

Either way, it's thanks to her that you can be in here with him. You can't undo the locks on his muzzle or leash; you're sure the consequences for you both would be dire if you tried. But at least there are little things you can do to ease his pain. You've gotten more bold with your visits, bringing him foods you can break up in small enough pieces to fit under the muzzle and gently helping him tip drinks into his covered mouth, both life-granting water and tremor-easing alcohol. Even if he can't dehydrate or starve, he can certainly feel the pain of neglecting his body's needs.

Physical contact is also a bodily need. Of course he isn't up for anything too rowdy - he barely has the physical strength for that. But he still wants to be held and have the chance to hold you in return.

"He's treating me like a fucking pet... no. Not a pet. Pets are supposed to be cared for. He treats me like a filthy fucking animal...

But when you're here... I feel a little human again..."

You spend one session gently massaging his wings. This is the most careful you've ever been with them; they're in such a sorry state, and you don't want to risk damaging such a sensitive area even further. If this keeps up he'll end up stripping them bare...

He groans as you touch him, first in pain, then in relief. Even if you can't fix this entirely, you can help preen the feathers that are remaining so they're more comfortable for him. You can also use a warm, damp cloth to clean the wounds he's left behind and make it so he doesn't have to feel so damn filthy on top of everything else. Alastor may have been generous enough to let him reach his bathroom with his leash, but it's hard for him to clean his own wings at the best of times...

By the time you're done, he looks... oh, god, he still looks awful. Why can't you do anything more for him than this?!

"...keep goin'," he says as he leans back against you. "Just a little longer..."

There's nothing more that you can clean or fix, but your gentle touch seems to be soothing him on its own. It's so unusual, feeling more skin than feather as you massage his wings...

His eyes are closed, and he's purring. His purring normally calms you like nothing else can... but the effect is marred by the tears running out and staining his fur...

[the-everqueen]

Definitely curious about the genderflip Sandman fic 👀

SAME. as in, this is only a concept on the back burner of my brain because i haven't really worked out a satisfying answer to the central q of the thing which is: what does a gender flip DO to these characters?

because here's the thing. i think 99.9% of the time a genderswap au is unnecessary and boring. (not to mention essentialist as hell.) boys have pussies, girls have dicks, people of all genders are intersex, etc. some of us notgirls and failguys just want to vicariously experience our fave getting his clit sucked or her prostate massaged. i personally hate fics that go "but what if these [cis] dudes were [cis] GIRLS" and then proceed to strip the characters of everything that makes them compelling, that makes THEM, because at that point you might as well just flesh out your OCs and maybe interrogate your internalized misogyny and transphobia while you're at it.

anyways.

in the case of sandman, i am (transparently, obviously) curious about what happens if the Corinthian is not designed to be (read as) a man. in the comix, he very much embodies the fears and risks associated with gayness in the 90s (the AIDS epidemic, the dual violence of the closet and/or being outed, the culture around cruising, intersections of race and class with queerness in U.S. urban areas, etc). in the show that's subtly shifted to be a broader umbrella of queerness as well as a very 21st century anxiety around surveillance/public vs private that also taps into a cultural fascination with serial killers. in both cases, him reading as white, middle-aged U.S. man is a CRUCIAL part of what he signifies. he looks like (and takes advantage of being) someone with a lot of social privilege, across multiple categories. no one is going to question why he's in a fancy hotel, a conference room, a seedy bar, a suburb. OBVIOUSLY that changes if any one of these categories changes. i'm thinking about how and also what that means.

(the dreaming spinoff comix tried to do a Thing with a female Corinthian: while Coco spends a year as a real boy, a trans woman named Echo takes his place in the Dreaming. the spinoff handles Echo...really poorly. [i wrote a whole paragraph here trying to distill her arc but it's tangential to this post so suffice to say: it was Bad.] Echo is posed as this "femme fatale" type because i guess if the Corinthian is a woman, she'd also have to be sexy and alluring to the (heterosexist) male gaze. imho this was a cop-out, but then again...what about that spinoff wasn't.)

on some level i'm not sure the Corinthian could ever be anything besides the Corinthian, if that makes sense. as in, if you change anything about him, maybe then he ceases to be the Corinthian and becomes something else entirely. Dream can take different forms (and Overture has a femme!Dream) because stories can take different forms across cultures and times and species. but the Corinthian is intrinsically tied up in humanity and its biomythic nature. and what we think of as Human, as Sylvia Wynter reminds us, is very much tied up in narratives around identity including race, gender, and class.

at the same time my id absolutely wants a butch lesbian Corinthian who uses he/him pronouns. mostly because lesbian and wlw sex STILL gets dismissed or sanitized or erased or pathologized, even though queer women remain subject to state, police, and domestic violence at higher rates than their straight and/or cis counterparts. (also yes i'm counting my trans hermanas y primas, t*rfs can fuck right off.) but also because i'm a fagdyke with religious trauma who relates very hard to god's failed masterpiece.

[team-phantasm]

[̸T̴E̴R̸A̶S̷T̵A̸L̴ ̶I̴N̶T̴E̶R̶F̶E̵R̵E̵N̸C̴E̶ ̶D̶E̵T̴E̷C̸T̷E̸D̵]̵

[Deep beneath the waves, somewhere off the coast of Unova, we see a young boy standing in a dimly lit bathroom, gazing into his reflection. He takes in his current ragged and worn state. The shadows cast by the flickering bulb above the mirror seem only to deepen the dark spots beneath his eyes, and strands of black and dark purple hair haphazardly fall out of a messy bun, partially obscuring the right side of his face. His uniform's jacket hanging from his shoulders is pristine and new. (His old one had to be thrown out after he was unable to scrub out the bloodstains no matter how hard he tried.) The gash on his left cheek from where a stray attack grazed him has begun to scar, serving as a reminder of Area Zero and the danger he put himself and the others in. If she hadn't been there...

At the thought of her, his eyes flicker down to the heart-shaped ruby stone that now hangs around his neck. A bright scarlet that seems to almost glow with a light of it's own. Much like her eyes, or a harvest moon.

More than anything else though, it reminds him of blood in snow, red like you've never seen red before.

He grips the edges of the small bathroom counter tightly, breaths coming out in short gasps, a feeling of panic squeezing his throat in its grasps as his mind flashes back to the being connected to that gem. The girl who lied to him, stole all he ever dreamed of from him, and then took his title as Champion as well. The creature that saved him, shielded him from Terapagos's attack with its own body. His greatest friend, his most hated rival. The hero of this story, the monster in another. Something that is both human and pokémon, but also neither. Dead, but alive.

He's not scared of her, he tells himself. He can't be. He was never scared of the ogre, and, really, how is she any different? A being cast out by a village that feared and hated it through no fault of its own? It's no wonder why the ogre chose her, it must have seen something of itself in her. And she has been so kind, so understanding, so forgiving despite how cruel he had been to her and everyone around him. She saved his life and gave him a chance to start over. How could anybody ever be scared of someone so sweet? She's his best friend, and he loves her.

Try as he might, however, he is unable to deny the terror that clings to his heart when he thinks back to what he saw that night those four weeks ago, as the power of that pokémon he foolishly thought he could command warped reality around them. He cannot shake the feeling that the creature he witnessed before him was never meant to be seen by the living. Perhaps it is similar to a Mimikyu in that way? When it sheds its disguise, even the people who know it would never harm them feel an instinctual and overwhelming terror? He swears he can remember her telling him that those who see under a Mimikyu's disguise may suffer from strange illness and nightmares while he was accompanying her on one of her "Ghost Misadventures." If her situation is similar, that would explain why his rest has been so uneasy lately, plagued by visions of blood on snow and a purple flame burning bright and a red moon and gods of time and space and glowing red eyes staring at him in the dark beneath a mask of a pokémon he didn't recognize—

His sister's voice on the other side of the door slices through his thoughts. Hurry up already, it's time to go, she shouts. They have a long flight to Kitakami and they don't want to miss their plane. He blinks in surprise as a glance at his watch tells him he's been standing here just staring at his reflection for a startling thirty minutes. He shakily tells her he'll be out in a second, before quickly splashing cold water from the faucet in his face to clear his mind. As he turns to leave, though, his eyes flicker back to the scarlet gem hanging around his neck.

He tucks the necklace under his shirt, out of sight, before joining his sister in the other room to help move their luggage. They're going back home, to where it all began. Some time away from school, from the League Club, from everything, will be good for him, he thinks. Maybe he'll even invite her and her other friends, and they can just... hang out, and talk, like people, without any threat of danger from more ghosts or legendary beings lingering over their heads... That would be nice...]

[night-dark-woods]

ID. photo of a whiteboard with bullet points written on it, titled "Stocking Reminders."

Top stock goes in the same 4' section as the stock.

Each SKU's overstock should be all in one spot. (below this point there is a diagram of a shelf with colorcoded boxes, one mixed up and one with the colors together)

Don't overfill hooks/shelves. There should be one straight line of product! If it won't hang nicely that is too much.

End ID.

end of my fucking rope tuesday. this won't stop my coworkers because they can't read but the amount of topstock i found in fucking random aisles today was truly absurd. like we've graduated from putting it in the same aisle 16ft away on the opposite side (annoying but at least line of sight) to putting it in topstock in its unlabeled cardboard shipping box, three aisles away, in a different department.

other highlights of today:

i asked this kid to downstock One Aisle and he spent 3(?) hours standing over there doing, as far as i can tell, nothing. which dgmw i can respect. minimum wage => minimum effort but my man that wasn't even CLOSE to the minimum and you are actively making everyone else's lives more difficult!!!

hardware mgr tried to have someone else (the aforementioned kid who can't even put stock in the right spot!!!) do counts on stock, BEHIND MY BACK, AGAIN. so i started off the day with an argument with him. bc if im not shooting outs regularly enough for you fucking TALK TO ME. and i will tell you what i need, which is you to do your fucking JOB and MANAGE YOUR PEOPLE. and get on their asses to actually maintain their sections!!! i could do the whole fucking store in an hour if literally anyone else did their jobs!!!

got a new rope assortment in from a new vendor, hardware mgr packed up the old stuff for buyback but ALSO managed to pack up a bunch of the NEW stuff with it despite the packaging being a completely different color AND saying the new brand name, so i had to go digging in 15 different taped-shut boxes to find it back.

just some truly atrocious and annoying customers. girl if youre in a hurry that is YOUR problem for not planning. i cant read your mind and i cant give you an answer if you cant explain your problem to me.

got called "ladies" collectively about 8 times today by my coworker who a) does ABA as his other job b) asked me if ozzy was my "real name" and c) said he used to be a liberal but he thinks there are more important things than peoples' identities. we're mostly copacetic now though bc he sees how much work i do and also we've commiserated about the state of the educational system & when he was talking about how "boys and girls learn differently" i very lightly floated the "well, i don't think that's inherent necessarily, you know, like we're raised and taught certain ways to be from SUCH a young age, and kids pick up on stuff pretty fast," and he was like huh ive never thought about that. ill have to think about that. so not unsalvageable! just a particular Kind Of Guy.

they're doing work on the roof and they fucking broke the ancient drainpipe that runs through our upstairs backstock area, so theres like three totes worth of roof-water-soaked merchandise that i have to take out of inventory tomorrow. and everything else in that backstock area has a fine coating of rust flakes from the disintegrating ceiling. and i was paged up there to help sort thru the stock and like. there are THREE PEOPLE here today who actually have a manager title, which I DONT!!! so why cant the three of you take care of it!!! and i KNOW its bc im good at problem-solving and don't really say no and would do it faster than anyone else but god. come on. its putting wet stock in totes.

also in the last 30 min of my shift (in the hardware dept!!! doing inventory counts!!!) my coworker walkied Me, Specifically, even though i knowww they were fully staffed in cashiers and housewares today, to pick up a call from a specific problem customer ABOUT A HOUSEWARES PRODUCT. bro i know FULL WELL you are doing fucking nothing but online shopping on the work computer, you fucking handle it!!! im on a DIFFERENT FLOOR and im busy doing other shit!!!

and its only tuesday!!! yippee!!!

[theviolenttomboy]

So yeah, it was pretty fun at the Nintendo NY store a few days ago for the direct. Not sure if I'll go to another one though, and definitely never during the summer. The store has air conditioning but all those people packed in one area? Had to find a place to be alone and cool off afterwards.

For the most part, the people were cool, though the guy recording/live-streaming behind me was kinda...eh? Guy was more preoccupied with his own video rather than anything else, considering he literally tried to demand for the volume to be lowered when the Just Dance portion popped up so that the music wouldn't demonetize him. And since he was directly behind me, he was kinda always right in my ear with his own commentary.

Still though, again, there were some cool people. Ended up temporarily buddying up with someone while waiting in line. Ha, he said he was visiting from out of state and he was super lucky when the direct was just announced the day before. And he was super excited for an excuse to visit the store. For some of the presentations he quickly explained some stuff I didn't know, and vice versa.

It really is hard not to get swept up in the excitement when you're with other people. I was hollering and cheering for the stuff I was excited for, and even for the others I couldn't help applauding.

So for the games I'm personally super hyped for? Just four really, but yeah, SUPER hyped.

Oh my god, the moment Luigi popped out of the bushes, I recognized that art style, even though it's now in 3D. I loved playing Inside Story years ago and Brothership looks absolutely beautiful. I honestly wonder who's working on it since Alphadream closed? A few employees ended up in Nintendo or Nintendo-adjacent companies, and it'd be great if they were working on this.

I wanna take you for a ride...! There used to be an arcade I went to all the time growing up but it closed down around a decade ago. I have such fond memories of that arcade. (I do not acknowledge the Dunkin' Donuts that had since replaced it) Marvel vs Capcom 2 was one of my favorite games there (along with DDR), with its music and characters and action and aaaaah I can't wait to get back to it, and really experiment with all the characters instead of just spamming my gun with Cable ^-^

I want a chibi Zelda toy so bad. Maybe a keychain at least? She's so cuuuute! And yeah, finally, her first, long overdue game. The gameplay looks super engaging! I don't know why people are bitching about her not having a sword when her primary mode of attack is to throw boulders at her enemies. And following that, the spirits of her slain. That's pretty metal.

And finally, Ace Attorney Investigations! I'm so happy I got into the AA series last year, and I can't wait to experience more! Been busy and I kept putting off watching a playthough of AAI, but yaaaaay, now I can play for myself! Probably an extra good thing that I never picked up on the fan-translated names, lol. I hope the Layton crossover makes its way too, and hopefully more from the franchise in general as well!

[7miroh]

Masseuse AU [Felix x Reader]

A/N: Random thing I wanted to write. I saw a prompt idea from @thatonenoona and it sounded like an interesting concept. Idk if I did it any justice. It’s quite a short one. (I hope you like it :))

Warnings: None, I believe? There’s nothing NSFW in here unless you read it weirdly.

Words: 622

You entered the serene, dimly lit room, decorated with delicate orchids and a subtle aroma of lavender in the air. Soft jazz music played in the background, creating a calming atmosphere that instantly soothed your senses. It was your first time experiencing a professional massage, and a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursed through your veins.

As you settled onto the plush massage table, the white sheets cooled against your skin. The door opened, and in walked a man, his presence exuding a gentle aura of calmness. Dressed in a clean white uniform, he carried himself with grace and professionalism. His warm, chocolate brown eyes met yours, filled with genuine care and consideration.

With a warm smile, the man began to speak, his voice resonating with an amazingly deep Australian accent that sent shivers down your spine. "G’day," he greeted you, his voice smooth as silk. "My name is Felix, and I'll be your masseuse today. Before we begin, may I ask if you have any specific areas of tension or discomfort?"

His words washed over you, and you found yourself mesmerized by the gentle cadence of his voice. Hesitating a little, you managed to express that your neck and shoulders were particularly tight from the stresses of daily life. Felix nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with empathy.

"Of course," he replied, his soothing voice relieving you of your nerves. "I'll take good care of you. Please let me know throughout the session if you'd like more or less pressure, or if there's anything else I can do to make you more comfortable."

With his skilled hands, Felix began the massage, starting with delicate strokes along the nape of your neck. The moment his fingertips made contact, a wave of warmth spread through your body, and you struggled to suppress a gasp of pleasure. He moved with a precision and fluidity that spoke of his expertise, each movement purposeful and deliberate.

“More…” you practically purred, initially leaving your sentence unfinished without realizing. “Sorry?”

“More pressure…where you were just before,” you allowed your eyes to close and Felix responded to your request with action – it didn’t go unnoticed.

As Felix worked his magic, his touch alternated between firm and gentle, catering to your preferences without a word exchanged. With every kneading motion, his hands glided effortlessly, tracing the contours of your muscles with remarkable dexterity. The tension gradually melted away under his skillful ministrations, leaving you feeling weightless and blissful.

You tried to keep yourself composed, but your lips quivered, betraying your facade. Goosebumps washed over you alongside the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. Oh God.

The air between you two crackled with an unspoken connection, even though Felix remained completely professional, focused solely on providing the best massage experience possible.

Time seemed to stand still as Felix's hands continued their dance, ridding you of the knots and tightness in your body. Each motion and touch was a testament to his artistry, leaving you in a state of sublime relaxation. As the session neared its end, Felix's touch grew lighter, easing you back into the present moment.

With a final, tender stroke, Felix stepped back, your lack of contact followed by a wave of chills. He offered you a genuine smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "Well, I hope that was enjoyable for you," he said, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "Remember to take it easy and drink plenty of water to keep yourself hydrated."

You found yourself nodding, and you rose from the massage table, a profound gratitude filled your heart. However, as you left the room, you were overwhelmed with embarrassment. You could only hope he hadn’t thought too much of your lack of control.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

I love your asexual explanation if it had more weight in reality I would be more understanding.

...however....

...I know too much...

I probably just don't like fake bitches and the commander was a real one that tried to make an informed decision for the sake of everyone else. It was a poor one, don't get me wrong.

Volo....

He wants to become the gods of the next world because he thinks the Pokemon world sucks despite the fact that the internet hasn't even been invented yet and he only knows one freaking area like damn you haven't even seen the rest of the world. what.. does he look at people who are being happy and goes "that is fake??" I can't imagine the pain that he must have think that he's gone through to apply it to literally everyone.

He's going to fix this usurping God? how??? HOW does he know anything about being God?? What makes him think that he has the qualifications for that??

It's the equivalent of looking at somebody's cool art piece and then trying to destroy that cool art piece to make a better art piece without even knowing how to make art

Oh yeah and that art piece is the state of reality of which you exist on.

The commander wouldn't have made that decision if Volo wasn't being a stupid bitch.

(Sorry I've been holding this unkept rage for a while because people don't realize the gravity of what Volo was trying to do.

I should probably delete most of this but you seem like the type that would enjoy it so...*shrugs

Maybe discussing this with you might make me stop being so angry at this because you're so insightful.)

qhkjhkjh ok first of all "I love your asexual explanation" took me OUT. is that what it is. ghskjshskjh i guess so

anyway like. and to start off with this is NOT me trying to defend volo. he's evil and deranged and most of all kind of pathetic and these are INTEGRAL parts of his character. but. i really do think that in the end he's someone with severe clinical depression in an era where that isn't really a recognized Thing you can get Help For and who also has been given esoteric knowledge about the nature of the gods that rule reality that apparently everyone else has forgotten. so instead of going "everything is terrible and it's pointless" it's "everything is terrible... and i know an extremely drastic way to fix it." that's at least the angle i come at him from.

and as for the second part... this is i think something that's more my take than like, canon or fanon, But. usually the way i come at it is that volo didn't want to make himself god, he wanted to make giratina god. he wanted giratina to usurp arceus and create its own ideal world, wherein he would presumably be rewarded with some sort of immortal high-priest role or something i honestly don't think he thought that far ahead.

anyway though i think that's why everything he does feels so drastic and out of left field. it's cause his perception of reality is like incredibly distorted and he's been trapped in this volo-giratina-togekiss echo chamber to the point where he thinks this is a normal thing for people to want. nice going dude!

[hinduismuni]

Revisiting Sanatana Dharma through Sri Aurobindo's Vision | HUA

THE REBIRTH OF SANATANA DHARMA IN THE LIGHT OF SRI AUROBINDO – PART 3  

Sri Aurobindo predicted that the rebirth of Sanatana Dharma was more important for all of humanity than any one person. This Sanatana Dharma has kept Adhyatma as its core basis. It insists on Truth alone, seeks peace, harmony, beauty, perfection, purity, self-knowledge, oneness and unity, light and pleasure, and doesn't reject any part of life. This three-quarter course series is an attempt to look at Sanatana Dharma's principles, core teachings, the Shastras, practices, and the past, present, and future through Sri Aurobindo's eyes. We will also look at the state of the renaissance of Sanatana Dharma, as well as current misunderstandings, misrepresentations, and challenges. We will also look at the wisdom of the old seers and sages through Sri Aurobindo's eyes.  

Renaissance of Sanatana Dharma What's in the Course:  

Sri Aurobindo thought that India had to rise up so that Sanatana Dharma could be shared with the whole world. He said, "Other religions are mostly about faith and practice, but the Sanatana Dharma is life itself. It's not so much something you have to believe in as live by." This is the dharma that has been kept alive on this land since ancient times so that people can be saved.  

It is the Dharma that is open to everyone and includes everyone. The only goal of the Dharma is to win over lies and everything else that holds us back. The goal of Dharma is to wake up the spirit in matter. It is the Dharma that includes every way to connect with the Divine. Unfortunately, after India became independent, it started on a path of growth that deepened a lot of people's misunderstandings and wrong ideas about this eternal Dharma. This made it harder for people to connect with their cultural roots. We are in the middle of a fight that is not only confusing and hard to understand, but also full of blind beliefs and strong feelings. So, the normal young Indian mind, whether it was born and raised in India or somewhere else, feels handicapped when it comes to Sanatana Dharma because it hasn't yet found the conviction to live a life that is in line with its vision.  

What's going to happen? Where does Sanatana Dharma go from here? Sri Aurobindo, the Rishi of India's rebirth, may have said more eloquent things about this topic than anyone else. Sri Aurobindo shows us that the new India needs to build an integral awareness that can show the power of the divine and find new answers in all areas of life, such as science, philosophy, culture, society, economics, politics, and so on. On the 150th anniversary of Sri Aurobindo's birth, we will go over his plans for the future of Bharat and Sanatana Dharma in this course.  

Part 1 of this course gave an overview of Sri Aurobindo's life and works, the basics of Sanatana Dharma, the foundations of Indian culture, an overview of the sacred texts of Sanatana Dharma, the idea of spirituality, Dharma, Purushartha, Brahmacharya, and the message of Sanatana Dharma to humanity. All of these things are talked about in terms of Sri Aurobindo.   

In part 2 of the course, the sacred works of Sanatana Dharma (Vedas, Upanishads, Gita, and Tantra) were introduced and analyzed in light of Sri Aurobindo.   

This is the third and final part of the course, which tries to teach some of the most important ideas in Sanatana Dharma. To really get into the depths of Sanatana Dharma, you need to know more about key ideas like Gods and Goddesses, Punarjanma or Rebirth, the Law of Karma and Human Destiny, Avatarhood, Rituals, Fasts, and Festivals, etc. All of these things will be talked about in terms of Sri Aurobindo's Perspectives.  

CONTACT — 407–205–2118

Overview >> Hindu University Of America

EMAIL- saksham.mangwana@hua.edu

Address- 5200 Vineland Rd 125 Orlando, FL 32811

[the-muse-coven]

Morax Dragon Behavior HCs

Hello and welcome to this post of various behaviors I HC that Morax has that are from him being a dragon adeptus. Hope you enjoy these!!

It's not exactly the rarest of noises, but in most cases, when content or happy Morax, regardless of shape, will purr/rumble in his throat or chest to express it without conscious thought. It as a result took conscious thought in order to repress the behavior when he took on the mortal disguise during the events of the Liyue Archon Quest.

Possessive. This goes without saying but Morax is territorial and possessive as a dragon. If he feels like his territory (i.e: his people, or his space) are being encroached on, threatened, or have been harmed in some fashion, he will lash out accordingly.

He's aware of the auras people emit (strength or otherwise), as it's a subconscious behavior to seek it out to read it in order to assess the safety of those around him, and when young, was to sense for his own safety. Now that he's an Archon/God, he largely ignores these senses unless he actively needs to engage the person in a hostile manner.

When afraid, his tail will tuck closer to his body, in his bipedal form with the limb this results in it being close to his legs, however in his adeptal forms (both small, medium, and large sized ones), the tail will curl so that the hardened scales on the back of it protect his underbelly instinctively. He may also make a low, distressed sounding hiss when he feels this way, in order to find some manner to release the tension so he can remain alert.

There's not a lot that scares him now as a result of him becoming one of the Seven Archons. As a result, the good majority of his fear responses are if he is caught off-guard by the person, or there is someone else besides him in danger. As Morax is no longer afraid for himself, but for others.

He has nesting behaviors. If he has his own space, he has to make a nest before he can settle down in it any if he is going to be staying in it to sleep. He's very particular about his nest when making it, including scents he includes in the nest (both the scents of others he knows or scents in the area of essential oils or perfumes). If someone messes up his nest in any form, he will snap at the person, fussing over it till it's fixed, if they keep doing it he will bite. Hard. His teeth already break skin very easily from the sharpness, hard bites from him are excruciatingly painful and he knows it, so he tries to use it as a deterrent from messing around with his nest. So anything you give him for the nests better be something that you're willing to part with until he rearranges it at some point because its lost its smell/scent.

He bites for several reasons, depending on what mood is exhibited. If it's a hard bite, he's angry, frustrated, or warding you off. If it's more a nip than a bite, this is his way of trying to show affection with his instincts, it can also be a form of play biting when done to younger people/children. If he only half goes through with the bite, he's warning the person. Snapping his teeth or only grazing his teeth instead of sinking them in are both ways he does this. Softer bites that still break skin are often an affectionate but also possessive behavior. It's a way of showing that he thinks of you as his, in some form, whether that be as a mate (bites in this fashion are usually on the neck, hips, thighs, sides, and/or collarbones), as family (wrists, arms, sometimes jaw/cheeks), or as a part of his pack in some fashion (jaw, sides of neck, shoulders). This means he is stating that he has a desire to keep you close, and as an extra statement, a desire to keep you safe, happy, and healthy.

He does not allow people near his horns without trust built to a high degree, or they're his mate. His horns can be used to steer his head, to steer him, in a way, and he would much rather not be steered into directions he does not wish to go. If you grab for them, he will do one of three things: growl, go for a warning bite, or snap his head back to make them harder to reach.

Dragon Adepti mate for the rest of their lives, though they are not strictly monogamous. Bonds between a dragon adeptus and a mate can give their mate insight into their mood, surface layer thoughts, and their well-being. To bond to a mate, they give a piece of them, their strength or powers, typically, but some older dragon adepti when they still roamed the world would give and embed their hardest scale(s) into their mate(s), granting them both a long life and more power to boot. Morax does not practice this particular form, however, he makes use of his powers as an archon and the power he has from his title as prime of the Adepti to then bond with a mate. Oftentimes, in specific situations, this does make people asking to have/take some of his power more awkward, as the person is usually unaware of the significance. In order to prevent bonding accidentally in this specific case, Morax will often sever his connection to the power he is giving the other person in order to make sure that there is zero chance that giving the powers or sharing them will form a mate bond.

Morax has never bonded with anyone as a mate, though he did once upon a time think about it with Guizhong. He did not wish to tie the God of Dust to him, and in the end it was, in part, a good decision due to what occurred later.

Broken mate bonds can kill a dragon Adepti's mental state and emotional well-being, often crippling them in these capacities from ever experiencing the level of attachment that their mate had with them, it does not go away with time, though if a dragon Adepti ever finds another to mate bond to it can balance the broken mate bond and they can regain some semblance of desire for attachment. If left alone long enough after a broken mate bond however, many dragon adepti will die of heartbreak before they reach this point.

Morax and all dragon adepti can make a trilling noise in their throats, both to convey excitement/happiness/joy, as well as a sort of call/signal of greeting to pack members, family, and mates. Each trill for that purpose is distinct and unique to that dragon adepti.

[jdgo51]

Bitter or Better?

Today's inspiration comes from:

The Unfair Advantage

by Aaron Burke

Editor’s note: In The Unfair Advantage, Pastor Aaron Burke takes a look at the unfair seasons Joseph endures in the book of Genesis and shows how his struggles are very much like we face today. Enjoy this excerpt.

"'How is your heart? This could be the most important question you answer today. The heart is actually referenced 633 times in the Old Testament and 170 times in the New Testament. God has a lot to say about its condition. The health of your heart determines the health of your life. So to get an accurate measurement of how healthy you are, take a deeper look at two areas. The first question to ask yourself is “How am I acting?” Proverbs 27:19 tells us,

As water reflects the face, so one’s life reflects the heart.

The second question to ask yourself is “How am I speaking?” Jesus teaches in Matthew 12:34,

Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. — NKJV

Do you find your words laced with complaining, negativity, or criticism? This may indicate a problem with your heart.

Undergoing rejection will have a significant impact on your heart’s condition. You have a choice in the matter though. Use the rejection to get bitter or use it to get better. Rejection can be the poison that sinks us to bitterness, or it can be the fuel that drives us to greatness.

We all know people who have used their rejection experience poorly. Left in the frozen state of perpetual hurt, bitterness oozes out of them, creating discomfort and hurt for the people around them. Choose wisely how you want rejection to affect you.

Rejection happens to the best of us, but it doesn’t need to get the best of us. So how do we fight that innate bitterness that tries its hardest to creep in? Scripture tells us:

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. — Proverbs 4:23

What you allow into your heart when you are rejected will determine its condition. Unforgiveness is a toxin to the heart. Refusing to forgive is choosing to stay trapped in a jail cell of bitterness, serving time for someone else’s crime. I am not sure who originally said that, but it is very true. (And I’m not worried about stealing that quote because that person has to forgive me!)

In the midst of extreme suffering, while He was still at the peak of His torment on the cross, Jesus made the crucial decision to forgive. He didn’t wait until their murderous act was over but faced His betrayers and critics and, while they were inflicting pain, imparted forgiveness. He forgave before the offense had a chance to infect his heart. Despite His agony, He mustered His last bit of energy and cried out,

Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. — Luke 23:34

Jesus has given us the perfect example to follow. Ephesians 4:32 instructs us to be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

We don’t deserve it, but Jesus forgave us. Now we have no choice but to forgive others in return.

Offense can be a festering wound to our hearts. No matter how we try to escape it, our world can be very offensive. People say things that hurt. People do things that hurt. People overpromise and underdeliver. People cut you off in traffic, renege on money they owe you, and disappoint your expectations. Hurtful things happen on a daily basis. However, it is possible that offensive things can happen to you without the offense living in you.

An offense is an event. Becoming offended is a choice. Joseph had a decision to make in the back of [the] caravan. In the famous words of Elsa from Frozen, Joseph had to “let it go.” Holding on to hurt is exhausting and detrimental to your heart. If you have noticed unhealthy patterns occurring as a result of rejection, let me encourage you to take the steps necessary to release the offense so you can move on.

The number one killer in America for the past decade has been heart disease. I believe the number one killer of your potential is spiritual heart disease. Don’t become a casualty.

Be intentional to guard your heart as well as purify your heart from the hurt caused by life. You can go through bitter situations without becoming a bitter person. In a moment of rejection, rather than taking it personally, choose to see people as Jesus did, who forgave the highest offense with the words “they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:24).

Jesus owns our brokenness and gives it intrinsic value.

LET GOD HEAL YOUR BROKENNESS

There is an old Japanese legend dating back five hundred years of a man who was a leader in the Japanese military, otherwise known as a shogun. Legend says that one day he broke his favorite teacup. Unwilling to accept it as lost, he determined to repair it to even better than before. He picked up every shard of the broken cup and painstakingly pieced it back together. For the final touch, he sealed the cracks with gold, making the cup more precious than it had been before. In other words, instead of getting bitter, he got better.

Whether or not the story is true, the art form is alive today in the Japanese practice of kintsugi. Take a moment to google some images. Just like in the legend, the kintsugi artist breaks an intact pottery object, allowing it to shatter into dozens of pieces. The artist then begins the work of placing all of the broken pieces back together. When the pieces are replaced, instead of glue or tape, they are sealed with gold. In doing this, the kintsugi artist gives broken pottery way more value than it had when it was still undamaged.

Here we see a powerful lesson of redemption. In the hands of the artist, the artifact goes from broken to beautiful. In short, “the Japanese art of kintsugi teaches that broken objects are not something to hide but to display with pride.”1 This is the gospel.

Jesus owns our brokenness and gives it intrinsic value.

Is your heart broken? Rejection can often do that. The only lasting solution is to give your pieces to the Master Artist. The prophet declared,

We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. — Isaiah 64:8

When we place our brokenness in His hand, He lovingly turns it into something beautiful. Our brokenness moves us from a mess to a message. Our hurt transforms into healing for other people. Our frustration changes into fuel for the future. None of this is possible in our own hands.

God is the only one who can change our hearts.

He promises,

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. — Ezekiel 36:26"'

Before you read on, allow Him to do some heart surgery and heal some of those broken places, so, like Joseph, you can move into “Egypt” better instead of bitter.

[byhismercyandgrace]

What was Missing?

If you would have told me a year ago that I will be sitting down a year later writing about my journey back to the Catholic Church, I would have respectfully told you that you were out of your mind.  But the reality is, I've always felt like something in my life was missing, a hole in my heart that no matter what I filled it with, it would never suffice.

I have to be honest and flat out tell you that throughout the years I have attempted to fill said gap in my heart with many things that I thought would fill it and have failed miserably. Those times were definitely not my brightest but I can confidently say now that these experiences molded me into the person I am today.

 It was truly frustrating at times because despite all life’s hurdles, I have truly lived a pretty blessed life. It's kind of like binge eating for example some people binge on food when they're sad, but then get sad because they binged on food; now this is just an example (that probably doesn't make sense) but let's face it, we have all been there. It took losing everything I loved, possessed, and losing myself for me to finally surrender and to go on a journey of self-discovery.  My long-term goal was to be able to answer: What was missing?

I got to a truly very low point in my life, I would feel so alone, scared, had very pessimistic thoughts and had racing suicidal ideations. One night at around 2 or 3 am, I felt a true discomfort and decided to give in and wake up. I had these thoughts in my head about building a community and while these thoughts crossed my head, I took out my phone under the covers and started searching on Google for Churches in the area. I came across a nearby church and when I clicked to see its webpage it landed on an announcement for a spiritual retreat. I said to myself, well I have tried everything and at this point I really have nothing else to lose, so I signed up.

The retreat weekend came, and I didn't know what to think, everything aligned so perfectly and I just didn't know what to expect but I was excited. When I first arrived I was in a complete state of awe as everyone was so friendly, warm and just so happy to see me despite not knowing who I was. It felt like home.

As the day progressed, I found myself meeting remarkable, strong women who shared their life stories. One of those women sat beside me and after a couple of hours, looked at me, hugged me and told me she loved me. It was raw, genuine and from a stranger and yet that I love you pierced my heart in ways you cannot imagine. Little did I know this was the first of many expressions of love that I received that weekend.

Later that night, came reconciliation (or Confession) and mind you having been estranged from the Catholic Church for almost 20 years, I had no idea what I was doing, but I decided to trust. As I walk in the pew, I asked the father to please forgive me as I didn't know what to do and what to say and that all I had to say was that I admitted having truly been a sinner and I am not worthy of such signs of love and affection. All I could do from that point on was just cry. The priest replied: "My child, you are one of the lost ones, a deeply wounded soul. You do not have to say anything for the Lord reads your tears. He knows your heartaches. But you must know, you are forgiven." As I heard those words, I suddenly felt a weight had been lifted. As I walked out, I remember just looking up and saying God I am not worthy of your mercy, while I sobbed.  A lady grabbed me in her hands, kissed my forehead and as she rocked me back and forth, she repeated " Never forget that you are a child of God and he loves you with all his heart". As she did this, she walked me to light my candle of faith and as the candle was lit I remember feeling this sense of closure. It was at that moment in time I knew, It wasn't possessions, relationships, friendships, that I was missing, it was the Lord Jesus Christ in my heart and what Jesus signifies; Unconditional Love.

Psychcentral.com defines unconditional love as the selfless act of loving someone with full acceptance and without expecting anything in return. Despise every single wrong thing I have ever done in my life and all the times I denied Jesus, he kept showing up for me. Jesus moved these ladies, complete strangers, who caught me when I broke down, consoled me and wiped my tears. These ladies did not know what was in my heart and despite all that they consoled me as their child. Through them Jesus showed up, he showed me mercy and grace, he showed me, that I am worthy, I am special, I am loved, I am strong and that all I needed to do now was to surrender my life to him, learn his ways and walk with him for with him nothing is impossible.

Colossians 3:1-17

Therefore, if you have been raised with Christ, keep seeking the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 [a]Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth. 3 For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory.

5 Therefore, [b]treat the parts of your earthly body as dead to sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed, which [c]amounts to idolatry. 6 For it is because of these things that the wrath of God is coming [d]upon the [e]sons of disobedience, 7 and in them you also once walked, when you were living [f]in them. 8 But now you also, rid yourselves of all of them: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene speech from your mouth. 9 [g]Do not lie to one another, since you stripped off the old [h]self with its evil practices, 10 and have put on the new self, which is being [i]renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created it— 11 a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, [j]barbarian, [k]Scythian, slave, and free, but Christ is all, and in all.

12 So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and [l]patience; 13 bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so must you do also. 14 In addition to all these things put on love, which is [m]the perfect bond of unity. 15 Let the peace of Christ, to which you were [n]indeed called in one body, [o]rule in your hearts; and [p]be thankful. 16 Let the word of [q]Christ richly dwell within you, [r]with all wisdom teaching and admonishing [s]one another with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God. 17 Whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.

Love,

Hope.

P.S. This post is dedicated to M.S. my beloved Sister in Christ who Jesus has welcomed home. May she rest in peace.

St. Therese of Lisieux - The Little Flower

St. Theresa Little Flower once said: “If a little flower could speak, it seems to me that it would tell us quite simply all that God has done for it, without hiding any of its gifts.”

Catholics Come Home | Welcome Home

Católicos Regresen | BIENVENIDOS. (catolicosregresen.org)

[mandareeboo]

There are villains that I love that are just- "This character is an incredibly complex with interesting motivation which while doesn't make them right, does give us a new outlook and I hope they get a good redemption arc and make up for their mistakes" And there are villains that are like- "This one is a hot pile of stinky dookie set on fire and fucking own They are an absolute irredeemable trash. I love them, I hope they stay evil" (Eg Gandra Dee vs Magica, Catra vs Double Trouble, Scar vs Envy

I love complex villains as much as the next writer but by god do i love shit like "scarlemagne you didn't pay to enter" "AND I NEVER WILL" and Magica eating a necklace of garlic to make Violet a target for hypothetical vampires like VILLAINS OWNING IT AND BEING DUMB OF ASS ARE 10/10