#by that i mean the place xD

[the-fatal-impact]

Jace: Your grace. Lady Jeyne Arryn has pladged her support in exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale.

Rhaenyra: And what about Lord Stark?

Jace: Tall, handsome and dreamy!

Jace: Wait, I mean…

Jace: Lord Cretan Stark has promised 2000 men…

Rhaenyra: Oh, please! Tell me more!

[krysmcscience]

Saw this post and couldn't resist because,

1.) @tesscourtes' human!Bill is a lil cutie-patootie menace that I very badly wanted to draw, and,

2.) I have a - M I G H T Y - N E E D - for any version of human!Bill to find any way he possibly can to annoy Ford a whole lot :D

Also, 3.) I like to headcanon that Bill's knowledge in The Sciences is mostly limited to 'Ways I Can Make A Really Cool Doomsday Portal', and everything else he knows is just a slapdash mix of the stuff he remembers from whatever schooling he went through on Euclydia, a whole awful lot of lucky guesses (which he WILL gaslight you about if you tell him he's wrong), and - naturally - conning all the rest of the answers he needs out of any more educated saps who are unfortunate enough to be around him at the time (answers which he will then proceed to take credit for), so as far as I'm concerned, this "outfit" is perfect for him.

Ignore the shitty backgrounds, I am sick to death of doing backgrounds, I just want to draw goofy shenanigans, okay???

[kiwistede]

Our Flag Means Death s2 stills - by Nicola Dove Photographer

[eddis-not-eeddis]

I keep seeing this thing where guys swear up and down that they want a good Christian girl, but then balk if that means she wants to be anything more than a wife and mother. Like, my guy, you do realize that there's a lot more to Christian women than being married or having babies? Yeah? What about a woman who works among the homeless, or runs a bible study, or volunteers to teach refugees a new language, or who takes part in the prison ministry, or who spends a lot of her spare time in another city street preaching? I see a lot of guys who claim they want "a girl who loves Jesus" but don't want anything to do with a woman who does more than just go to church and lives a life of active ministry outside of her home.

[funforahermit]

smooching against a wall time for @sherlockig (thanks for the idea!)

[cienie-isengardu]

MK 9 (2011)'s story mode & MK 1 (2023)'s story mode

[gmod-gravityfalls-dipper-mod]

Cwan I eat one of da flwoorbwoards - box

[computer-cacophony]

Watching Dylan the Knight Owl's video on Jeff the Killer and...

This kind of stirred up an old memory, or rather, an old wish I had as a teenager.

All the Jeff the Killer adaptations I have ever read have had Jeff and Liu have such a strong dynamic and care for each other through and through. I remember loving their friendship so much that I wished I had a brother.

I was an only kid which was pretty lonely already, not to mention the issues I have with the religion I was raised in, which isolated me even further from people at school.

For a while, because of that, Jeff and Liu were huge comfort characters for me and I used to imagine they were my brothers to quell some of that loneliness.

A lot has changed since then, and a lot has also stayed the same. I still pretend sometimes to cope, but I won't forget my favorite killer boys. Were they the most upstanding people to latch onto? Hell no XD! But I was younger, I was trying to figure myself out, trying to hide myself while also staying true to myself. It was a messy time, and for better or worse, Creepypasta was there when nothing and no one else was. I've come and gone through multiple fandoms since then (FNAF, Brawl Stars, and so on), but I always come back to Creepypasta.

And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way.

[kyistell]

I donno what came over me, one minute I was on my computer wondering what to do and the next this was made, no clue what happened in between lolz

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 11 - Surrogate

"Laqa!", a woman’s voice scolded. "Didn’t I tell you to leave the boy alone?"

A tall woman with long white hair stepped closer and sternly looked at the cheerful blonde boy, who had introduced himself as Laqa. Her voice lacked sharpness though and her dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

"But mommy! A‘viloh seemed so lonely!" Laqa protested and A’viloh thought that she didn’t look like his mother at all. Painfully he was reminded of his own mother’s lifeless green eyes staring through him while her blood, as red as her hair - as red as his hair -, had spread across the sand. Stifling a sob, he buried his face at his knees, which he had pulled to his chest and embraced with his arms.

"A’viloh?", she asked confused. "Is that his name? Did he speak to you?"

Laqa nodded, obvious to the fact that the red-haired boy hadn’t spoken a single word to the Miqo’te women the whole way back across the desert. "But he says we can call him A‘vi and that he would like to stay with us. We can be his new family, right?"

This had mostly been the blonde boy’s interpretation and nothing A‘viloh had actually said but he didn’t care enough to protest.

The woman thoughtfully tilted her head and looked at both of the boys. Then she knelt down with a sigh and gently put a hand on the crying child’s back, carefully rubbing in circles.

"If it was only this easy… Besides, your father has the last say on this matter. He wants to see him first before he decides what to do with him."

"You can tell him to allow A‘vi to stay!", Laqa insisted. "He will listen to you."

"Maybe…", she mused. "Now go play with your siblings while I speak to your father."

The blonde boy put his arms on his hips and shook his head. "Uh-uh, I‘ll go with you! If he doesn’t listen to you, he will surely listen to me!"

"Laqa…", the woman said a little more sternly. "Do as I tell you or the only thing your father will listen to is your crying when you are grounded for a week."

Alarmed the boy hurried away and the women looked after him for a moment shaking her head, before returning her attention to A‘viloh and stretching out a hand for him to take.

"Now, A‘viloh - if this is your name - follow me, please…"

Anxiously he stared at her hand.

"There’s no need to be afraid anymore, you are safe here.", her voice sounded so soft and soothing, and a kind smile appeared on her face. Somehow the little Miqo’te believed that he could trust her.

Carefully A‘viloh reached out for her hand and let her help him get to his feet. With tiny, weak steps he climbed down from the small platform of the aetheryte and almost fell while doing so.

"Oh, you poor thing. Come here, I‘ll carry you…", she said and picked him up. The warmth of her body surprised the boy and with tears welling up in his eyes again, all he wanted to do was to cling to her, pretending she was his mother, and cry until he fell asleep.

But that wasn’t granted to him yet.

"Just a little longer and then you can rest, I promise.", she explained gently and brushed the tears on his face away with her fingers. "Try not to cry now, will you?"

Faintly A‘viloh registered that they entered a building, then a deep, loud voice spoke up. "Can the boy not even walk himself? Isn’t he a little to old already to still be carried around?"

A‘viloh was still too young to put a name to the mockery in the man's voice but it was clearly there.

Reluctantly he let the the woman put him down again but still he held on to hear leg and tried to hide behind it.

Angrily she addresses the man at the other side of the room.

"You can certainly see how weakened he is, he probably hasn’t eaten anything in days."

"Indeed, I can see he is quite weakish…", the man stated bluntly. "Give me one good reason why I should burden our hunters to feed one more hungry mouth instead of just sending him home."

"He is just a child, Odh!" the woman exclaimed pleadingly. "I told you his whole family was slaughtered by the lizards! Women! children! There was a dead baby barely a year old if at all! I know you’re not this heartless!"

"I‘m not heartless.", he said unmoved. "Just pragmatic. He‘s not one of our own and the tribe always has priority. We should think carefully about wasting our precious resources on outsiders."

Annoyed the woman growled. "You‘ve been listening a bit too much to my old father‘s antiquated nonsense it seems! Weren’t you an outsider yourself once?! Sure, he will have to be fed but don’t worry about your precious supplies! I will take care of and hunt for him all on my own if that’s necessary! I love you, Odh, but make no mistake, sending him away would be nothing but cruel and I don’t remember you treating strangers that way when we met! But if you decide to send him away anyway, know that I will go with him!"

It was an empty threat of course, she could never abandon her children and taking them with her would be too dangerous. But the implication alone had the desired effect.

A smirk appeared on the man’s face, he was visible amused by her emotional outburst. "Of course you are right, my love. How could I deny you any request. He can stay. At least until he is old enough to take care of himself or until he proves his right to belong to this tribe…"

She nodded. "That is all I am asking for, thank you. I will make sure you won’t regret this decision…"

Then the man focused his attention on A‘viloh. "Come over hear, boy! Let me take a look at you."

The women encouraged him to go but only reluctantly he stepped towards the man.

"What is your name?", the deep voice asked. A’viloh didn’t dare to look at him and just stared to the ground shaking, his ears flat at his head and his tail between his legs. Somehow this man scared him.

"Laqa says his name is A‘viloh.", the Miqo’te woman explained.

"Is that so, boy?", the man asked him.

Weakly A‘viloh nodded but didn’t dare to look up. Then the man reached out to him, put a big rough hand below his chin and turned his face upwards so he had to look into his face.

"You should look at people when they speak to you, you know…"

His eyes were bright and piercing and made A‘viloh feel uncomfortable. The man smiled but his smile didn’t look kind for some reason. The boy’s fearful eyes, swollen and red from crying, evaded his gaze, tried to look anywhere else but not at him directly. Finally his eyes landed on one of the windows at the back of the building and he almost gasped in surprise.

Through the glass the curious face of the blonde boy from the aetheryte plaza peeked into the room. As he noticed A‘viloh looking, he grinned and waved, before diving for cover as the two adults followed A’viloh’s surprised look.

For a moment there was silence.

Then the woman stepped beside him and kneeled down with open arms.

"Come, A‘viloh. You must be horribly hungry and tired. And we need to find new clean clothes for you too."

Without protest he let the woman pick him up again but held on tightly to the soft green scarf around his neck. He wouldn’t let her take it away no matter what.

He was glad to get away from the unfriendly man but still threw one last glimpse over his shoulder as they left, back to the window where a pair of blonde Miqo’te ears and curious, warm, golden eyes peeked over the windowsill.

Weakly A‘viloh smiled and cuddled closer to the friendly woman’s warm body.

[teecupangel]

DesmondxHytham???

@fanworldbuildingfun and I had this idea where Desmond gets kicked into AC Valhalla’s timeline and he builds his own Brotherhood because he thought the Assassins didn’t exist by this time and it ends with his Brotherhood and Hytham’s bureau having some kind of turf war.

That could be our jumping point with Hytham being both annoyed and impressed by Desmond’s informants and recruits while Desmond is just under the misconception that Hytham might be some kind of proto-Assassin (which he is, the problem is Desmond doesn’t know about the whole Hidden Ones history since that was lost in time, hell, Amunet was only called a ‘proto-Assassin’ and isn’t even remembered as a founder by this point). 

So, once Desmond is sure that his Assassins would be okay without him for a while and all of their bureaus are safe at the moment, he goes to Ravensthrope to check the competition.

What does he see?

An overworked lonely man who was nice to everyone and who looked at him with wary at first, only to show a friendly side once Desmond told him that Eivor sent him here (a lie) to help out.

Desmond starts helping out in Ravensthorpe, doing errands and hunting. Sometimes, he’d help bring deliveries from nearby settlements. Other times, he’s working as Randvi’s messenger for any settlement conflicts that arises.

In his free time, he checks up on Hytham.

At first, it was because of his Hidden Blade.

He had seen Eivor’s Hidden Blade and knew that she was wearing it wrong but he had assumed Eivor had gotten it from one of the Proto-Assassins or something.

But Hytham…

Hytham was the one who told him about the Hidden Ones.

About Alamut…

And, now that Desmond thought about it, it made sense that the Assassins didn’t just sprung up out of nowhere. They had to have come from somewhere.

A secret organization stationed mostly in Alamut would make sense, Desmond supposed.

Hell, he had been thinking of going to Alamut himself but that was mostly because there were memory seals in the Temple underneath that he could use to leave messages for Altaïr and maybe even the ‘next’ Desmond Miles.

But this…

This changes… well…

Not much, really.

Desmond has no plan to join the Hidden Ones. He has his own Brotherhood and they’re doing well on their own.

It sucked that they didn’t have Hidden Blades but being an Assassin was never about the Hidden Blade.

It was about the Creed.

And it seemed that the Hidden Ones also had the same Creed.

So…

Desmond stayed.

And he tells himself that he’s staying to learn more about the Hidden Ones.

Hytham stresses that he was not a mentor (“Yet.” Desmond adds, making Hytham chuckle and rub the back of his neck) so he cannot recruit Desmond but Desmond just waves it off, tells Hytham that he’s interested in the history and the traditions of the Hidden Ones.

And Hytham indulges him…

They have tea over it.

One time, Hytham showed him how to perform a leap of faith and it took all of Desmond’s willpower not to be a total showoff like Hytham was.

.

.

And then…

Eivor returned from her latest successful alliance and she sees Desmond in Ravensthorpe.

They talk and Desmond tries to tell her that he’s not here to sabotage Hytham’s bureau or whatever malicious plan Eivor believes he’s capable of.

Hell, the whole turf war between the Brotherhood and the Hidden Ones was started by a very gung-ho recruit and it’s not like Hytham had any other people in his corners other than Eivor and some informants.

It would be like pulling the pigtails of a girl peacefully making her sandcastle.

“I know we both have a list of people that should die and that’s not exactly peaceful, Eivor, I’m making a metaphor!”

But Desmond is good at making people do what he wants so Eivor just sighs and agrees not to say anything… for now.

If she even hears a hint of Desmond planning something nefarious against Hytham, she’d kick him out of Ravensthorpe herself.

And Desmond agrees.

.

.

So Eivor began to observe Desmond.

She tells Randvi that she’s doing it because she wants to make sure she did the right thing sending Desmond back to their home without her (and she wants to smack Desmond on the back of the head for making everyone believed she had invited him).

That’s when she noticed it.

What everyone in Ravensthorpe had noticed before.

Desmond and Hytham…

… were definitely acting more like a couple in the middle of courting one another than actual friends.

And that’s when Randvi told her that…

All of Ravensthorpe agreed not to say anything to either of them because watching them be oblivious to one another was more fun.

And Eivor…

… can’t help but agree to that.

[secondbeatsongs]

weird question

are all of the reddit audiophiles right that koss headphones are good? or am I being pranked

like, they all look like something I'd pick up for $5 circa 2004, but the reviews are all "this is the best thing I've ever heard, second only to my $600 professional headphones" blah blah blah

so are they...good? or am I being hazed somehow

[sentientstump]

oc things with tiny explanations in descriptions

[edenpoise]

the fact that eve would be canonically older than most if - not all of the goetia family is wild.

[cienie-isengardu]

MK1 fanfiction

EDIT: now all chapters will be collected under the title of Cracked mirror of black, cold soul

No one asked for it, but as I did not get enough Bi-Han & Shang Tsung interaction, I was forced to write about them myself. The first part is at least done, we will see if I managed to finish the second. Mainly written as a character study of MK1!Shang Tsung, a bit about his relationship with Damashi, General Shao and potential partnership with Sub-Zero post story-mode.

There was a time when Shang Tsung was nothing more than just a pitiful loser clinging to an even more pathetic life. All he could do to survive was to pretend to be someone else, someone better, wiser; someone worthy of trust, someone people like and listen to. Lying to people was easy. Lying to himself anyone would care if he died came much harder and harder with each passing day. 

Then came Damashi and offered him not only power but also kindness, a praise for making progress, be it for fulfilling her plans or for his own growing skills. He would gladly burn the world just to earn her smile, a good word, anything really. She made him for the first time in a long long time feel valued, appreciated, even liked despite who he was under all the polite words and charming smiles.

But that was a lie too. A lie he foolishly fell for, like a stray, hungry dog falls for a kind pat on the head and a little treat before the new owner will kick it for fun.

Shang Tsung was many things but definitely not a dog to be kicked, be it by Liu Kang or his Titan self. If none of the gods cared for him, he wouldn't care for them either. And now, after he ran away from prison and a terrifying storm washed him ashore on a deserted island full of magic secrets to unlock, he had time and means to repay each of his pursuers, to make all the realms if not respect his skills then fear them.

Since Damashi’s - his own Titan self’s - betrayal many days and nights have passed and with each Shang Tsung’s mastery of magic grew stronger, his knowledge deepened, his confidence restored and strengthened. He claimed the island as his new home, the impregnable fortress secured by the most wicked, devilish and brilliant traps he could think about and for the first time in ages, he finally felt like belonging to the right place.

It was as good a life as it could be. Not perfect, as Shang Tsung still needed to figure out how to secure his food supplies before he would tame the wild land, unused for years and maybe the animals lurking in the shadows could be useful too. A domestic cattle would be a great addition for sure, as it was the only type of animal he had any skill to maintain but then again, there was no way he would engage in tedious farming. He had no time nor patience for that kind of work yet he did not want any stranger on his island either. All he could do for now was to eat the catched fishes and some plucked from tree fruits while bringing all the needed ingredients and supplies from a quick trip to the land. Using magic portals was a tricky solution - magic brought unwanted attention and once used, always left some traits to follow but after the last storm he did not feel safe on a boat sailing through the open sea. On the land, he did run into some of his former allies, exchanged important news and some secrets here and there, never truly betraying where he was hiding. The General and his men treated Shang Tsung with suspicion, always demanding more than he offered. On the other hand, he and Quan Chi worked well in the past, but after the last betrayal, Shang Tsung couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Everyone blamed him for his Titan self’s lies, like he was the one lying to them all. The Royal Family wanted his head, the Earthrealm Champions hunted him too. It was a mess, amusing and irritating at the same time. 

He was going to deal with that matter too, when the right time came. For now, Shang Tsung enjoyed the new found magic - the power awaiting for those who will dare to reach out for it. A power he didn’t need to share with anyone.  

Everything would feel much better though if Sub-Zero didn’t somehow find a way to break into his new home like all the deviously set up traps meant nothing.

Shang Tsung should know something was off the moment he felt coldness creeping into his bones, but in all fairness, it was always cold here. He did not have yet an idea how to heat the interior of an abandoned fortress and as much as he liked to not freeze in his own sleep, luxury like that was not on his priority list. He should be more cautious, more focused on the change in the air about him than walking straight into his own room and then be dumstocked at the sight of Sub-Zero looking through his books as if he had lived here forever and Shang Tsung was the unwanted guest.

“Your security is shitty” was all he got as a greeting. Cold, sharp, uncaring words judging him as an incompetent idiot. The bastard did not even bother to look at him, just kept rummaging through the books like it was the only thing worth this attention.

Shang Tsung wasn’t sure what offended him more - being ignored or watching as his precious belongings were touched without his permission. He liked books way more than he liked people. 

In the last few years he killed people for less than that yet he smiled his most charming smile, the gears in his head working fast and furious on how to turn the unpleasant situation for his own advantage. The fact that Sub-Zero allowed him to see himself in the open instead of lurking in the shadows to cut his throat gave Shang Tsung a reason for a bit of optimism. As far as he heard from his former, maybe-still-maybe-not allies, Lin Kuei rejected Liu Kang’s authority and were on their own. It of course did not mean that Sub-Zero was his friend or ally nor that he wouldn't murder Shang Tsung at the end of day, either to reconcile with Fire Lord or to bribe the god to let the Lin Kuei be in peace.

Shang Tsung couldn’t blame Bi-Han for that - in this cruel world, everyone was looking after their own best interest, but the vision of losing his life did not sit well with him at all. He wasn’t afraid of fighting and he did beat down great Champions in the last battle, but out of all opponents, it was Sub-Zero's ice axe that was the closest to beheading him for good.

He did not plan to forget that anytime soon.

“What an unexpected surprise,” he said, all the soft, so sweet smile, velvet voice and sharp eyes analyzing the danger standing before him. “What can I do for you, my friend? Or did you just miss my humble company?”

He teased with feigned innocence because men hated when he said ridiculous stuff like that. Shang Tsung hated it himself, because he knew no one would miss him at all.  

“For one, drop the false politeness” came Sub-Zero’s cold reply, a mix of disapproval and command that Shang Tsung was so used to, because this was how people treated him, the real him, all his life. “We are not friends.”

There was a flare of anger in Shang Tsung now, the desire to prove himself the superior, not a pitiful dog anyone could kick and command - but he knew better than to allow this fire to burn inside him. Emotions were a weakness he couldn’t afford. Did the man even know how much he provoked the sorcerer with his cold disdain? Shang Tsung had no idea. He heard a lot of stories about Lin Kuei; even in the backwater hole from which he crawled out everyone heard the terrifying tales of Fire Lord’s secret army. Of the ice demons stealthier than shadows and more deadly than night itself and for a long time Shang Tsung did not think of them as living beings from this world.

Still… Sub-Zero was mortal, wasn’t he? A special one no doubt, with control over ice yet he could bleed too. Shang Tsung wondered for a moment what he could find under the fine, cold skin if he ever had a chance to look for the answer. An ice demon, human or hybrid of both?

“But we are still allies, aren’t we?” he asked, still polite and careful, yet walking up to the other man with his typical swagger. Not close enough to be in arm reach, but close enough to show he wasn’t that easily intimidated. 

The great military hero of Edenia always looked down on his movements; how he fought, how he gesticulated, how he walked. No self-respecting soldier would walk like some pleased prostitute after a well-paid job, the General said not once nor twice and all Shang Tsung could do then was to smile the brightest smile and thank him, like his disdain was the best praise he heard that day. The only thing they really have in common, beside the desire to take down Sindel’s regime, was being self-made men for both worked hard to be who they were. Yet General came from an old, aristocratic family with even older military tradition and everything that did not fit his narrow-minded idea of the world was treated with hostility and contempt. 

Shang Tsung’s skinny body, swagger, shrewdness, curiosity and wordiness unsurprisingly annoyed the great warrior and to say he took no pleasure in that fact would be a blatant lie. Even if it was childish and unproductive pleasure, it amused him to know how little effort he needed to test the patience of such a stern and manly man. 

Sub-Zero reminded him a lot of Shao and he suspected it was the soldier thing; the body built for fight and hardship, no-nonse attitude and the way both men moved - with deadly precision and confidence only a person that in fact killed an enemy in battle could muster. Even the way they spoke sounded similar, a barked command that everyone around instinctively wanted to obey, either out of respect or fear.

For that similarity alone, Shang Tsung expected the Lin Kuei Grandmaster to snarl at him some nasty remark about how his Titan self betrayed them all and thus how little he himself was worth of anyone’s trust. Anything to put the sorcerer down even a bit, to remind him what a failure he was.

“That is yet to be seen” was all the Grandmaster said, finally glancing from the book to Shang Tsung. 

It was hard to read anything from the man’s face, as half of it was hidden behind that damned Lin Kuei mask. All he could do was to rely on the move of a brew and the incantation of voice, each syllable, a moment of pause. It was a hard task, as the man showed no emotions and spoke so little so far. But the sorcerer knew there was anger, always lurking in each word spoken by Sub-Zero, but also… an excitement at finally being free of Liu Kang’s control. As Damashi foretold.

Shang Tsung couldn’t help but to think there was something much deeper about Damashi's interest in breaking Lin Kuei from Fire Lord than he ever suspected before. Back then the choice sounded logical - every action that would deprive Liu Kang of the advantage was worth taking so he did not question his benefactor. How could he, really? Now though? The truth burned him to the core and he learned the hard way that each of Damashi’s words had a hidden meaning, each action served a different goal than was promised; the victory he was in fact never part of. Yet… even the deepest shade of lie had a grain of truth. He knew that one well, for he lied all his life.

His Titan self for some reason wanted not so much the Lin Kuei itself as the Sub-Zero specifically on his side. Maybe more than Titan Shang Tsung even wanted his own younger self, corrupted by Liu Kang. 

The mere thought made him want to curse all gods alike. There was no difference for him between Liu Kang and his Titan-self, as both played him like some pawn, not even an important figure. Just pawn, to hold away from power, to sacrifice it when times would come. 

But there was more to it than just jealous anger and the never ending feeling of never being good enough. If Sub-Zero meant so much, if not in the grand scheme of things itself then just for personal satisfaction of Titan, then maybe he could be important to Shang Tsung’s own plans. Allies were hard to come by and these days he could use some, well, not protection really, he was done with living under someone else's wing but he wouldn’t say no to some partnership or at least casual support. The little favor here and there where things were still thick and troublesome to deal on your own. After all, freedom always came at some cost. 

Maybe Sub-Zero came to the same conclusion and his unexpected visit was just a reconnaissance. They were more alike than one would think, as similar desires drove them into this madness of Titans. To prove their own might and skills to all those that looked down on them their whole life. But above everything else, to be free and powerful enough to keep that freedom.

To his own surprise, Shang Tsung took comfort in that thought.

If they were meant to stay allies - or as close two stubborn outcasts with grudge against gods could rely on each other, some sacrifices were to be made. Shang Tsung did something he rarely did - he dropped the false politeness under which he hid himself for years.

“How did you find me?” he asked Sub-Zero directly, raising his chin challengingly. He was not afraid of Lin Kuei, just curious.

“You are not as careful as you think you are” Bi-Han answered with no less challenging stare, yet the flick of an amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. Shang Tsung knew the man was smirking under that damned mask and that thought alone made him puff in anger. 

The brown eyes shone even more.

Sub-Zero moved from his place, slowly walking from one bookshelf to another. His fingers traced books, never stopping at any particular volume, but always touching the book spines, like there was something interesting in their textures. The man did not pay attention to Shang Tsung and not really to books either. He was studying the room itself. The sorcerer couldn’t place why it bothered him so much but he knew better than to allow Sub-Zero to learn even the most trivial things about himself or his fortress. 

Damashi warned him against that the first day when she spoke about Lin Kuei. They are thieves, the mysterious being said, all grace and patience and praise for the unwanted Shang Tsung who drank in her words like the wisdom of gods, who will steal your fortune, life and secrets. Always be on your guard around them, especially around the one named Sub-Zero. If only he was smarter back then, less in need to please his generous benefactor, maybe he could hear in her sweet voice the longing for something, someone, that was not anymore. For the old partnership that was broken and defiled by Liu Kang’s peaceful vision of the world. But he was a fool who thought her yearning was for him alone. 

Shang Tsung was done with being played like a fool.

“Who told you about my island?” he demanded, voice still quiet yet no less burning with an old anger. He would get his answers, whatever kindly or by force.

A long sigh escaped Sub-Zero’s lips and frankly it took him out by surprise. Shang Tsung - or rather his Titan self -  knew the man was running on frustration for years, but that sounded as a whole new level of annoyance.

“I heard about it from Havik, who heard that from Rain, who heard that from Reiko, who heard that from Shao, who heard about it from Quan Chi. But the whole Sun Do is full of similar gossip.”

For a moment none of them spoke. Shang Tsung stared at Sub-Zero’s impassive, half-hidden face that still somehow emanated his disgust at their maybe-allies-maybe-not-but-definitely-idiots who apparently couldn’t keep a secret to save their own life. The feeling was mutual, because this was the reason why the sorcerer hated working with others. No one apparently could keep their mouth shut down if you didn’t help make that permanently. 

He closed eyes and rubbed his forehead, like that could ward off all the bad thoughts assaulting his mind right now.  His fingers were cold, too cold for his liking, unpleasantly stiff and numb. He did not like how the mere presence of a cryomancer affected his body, how it made him shiver and weak. He was an Edenian for fuck’s sake, and Edenia did not even know what winter cold was. He did not know that himself, until Damashi led him to a snow-covered fortress and he almost freezed there the first night. 

It took him a moment to realize something bad was happening. He couldn’t focus, all his senses dulled, body so clumsy and weak. As if his energy suddenly dropped to zero and fatigue was taking over. A flash of panic crossed his mind, but he was too tired, too cold to even be afraid for his life.

He had no idea how long he remained in the grip of this piercing soul frost. A few seconds? Days? He couldn’t even say. What mattered was that once the control of his senses came back, he was still alive and Sub-Zero gone.

And the fact the bastard stole a few of his precious scrolls and books.

***

The books showed up on his desk a few days later. There was no thank you or sorry about that note, not even the fuck you, loser. Shang Tsung both admired the man's boldness and hated him for it. Still he appreciated the books were returned in a good condition, as there was not a single scratch on any of them, not even a new page crease. He had no idea if that was some sort of weird Lin Kuei’s way to test him, disrespect or Sub-Zero took the books simply because he wanted to read them but he was a bastard with no sense of social politeness to just ask as any normal human being would. Damashi mentioned cryomancers were naturally difficult like that.

Shang Tsung had better things to do than to wonder what the check was wrong with Sub-Zero yet he was too curious for his own sake. Sadly, the titles alone did not say anything useful on the matter and even though he read each book just in case, there was hardly anything worth the time it took to finish them. No grand secrets revealed, no magic or military knowledge, not even historical value. Just some technical nonsense that bore him to death and if Sub-Zero was into stuff like that then no wonder the man lacked any social grace. 

The Grandmaster of Lin Kuei so far did not try to kill him and returned the books so Shang Tsung decided to give him the benefit of doubt and so he did not cross out the man from the list of potential allies. It did not stop him however from improving the traps just in case the man decided to return solely to steal again.

***

The scrolls showed up on his desk three days later. Their appearance actually worried Shang Tsung, not just because the trap again turned out to be useless. He was not worried even by the possibility Sub-Zero found some secret entrance he did not know about yet. No, what worried him was the fact he spent the whole morning in his chamber and walked out for like twenty minutes at best and when he returned, the scrolls WERE. THERE. 

That actually unnerved him much more than he wanted to admit. 

The scrolls turned out to be written in a language Shang Tsung did not even know and the implication that Lin Kuei could read it only added to the feeling of cold unease. There was however a note left on the scrolls; a small paper with only Royal Army searching the coast written in Shang Tsung’s own language. 

He was not afraid of empress Mileena’s army but he did appreciate the warning. Of course, the warning could be a fraud, a means to build trust only to betray him. The common sense advised caution yet there was a weird sense of peace within Shang Tsung. A hope or hunch, he did not know, but deep in his heart he felt everything was alright.

All he could do for now was wait to see if Sub-Zero will lead the enemy to his fortress or not. So he waited.

(The fact that another book disappeared with Sub-Zero did not surprise him much. Irritated, yes, but not worried. For some reason he felt everything was like it should be, like some almost forgotten memory of past life came back to him and the sense of deja vu was weirdly comforting.)

[muppenthings]

To counter my art slump I played around with a little "What if" with Keiki. What if the crew wasn't around to adopt him?

In this alternative universe, he was instead feared and they tried to eliminate him before he grew too big. They failed and instead created a fearful monster.

Made a little drabble to go with the image!

CW: Fear, dehumanization, that's it I think

The Ocean Watch had lost track of the big beast a few weeks ago, keeping all sea travelers on their toes. 

Captain Boone was no stranger to navigate through the Serpent’s Isles, named after its high population of sea serpents. The serpents were nocturnal, making daytime travels perfectly safe.

Or so he thought.

An ominous rumbling and the distant crashes of waves brought the captain out of his daydream.  Soon it was followed by the fearful cries of his crew to look towards the cliffs.

For a delirious moment, it looked as though the ocean itself was rising into the sky. 

It kept rising. 

And rising.

The captain and the crew all came to the realization that it was a head, taller than the very cliffs around them. A cold, blue eye locked onto their ship; they had unknowingly stumbled upon the great beast. Boone struggled to take in its features, everything on its face was so absurdly large. 

How did he miss it sailing into the isles?

The beast pulled its lips up in a snarl. 

An overwhelming sound filled the air, the sheer volume of it making everyone on the ship cover their ears, the vibrations rattling their very bones. 

It went on for a few seconds before mercifully petering out. Able to gather his thoughts again, Boone realized that it had been a vocal warning from the beast. All reports from the Ocean Watch inform that the beast only offers a single warning before striking a ship down.

He immediately ordered his first mate to alter their course, praying to the gods that the beast would understand that they were heeding its warning and turning around.

The turning of the ship felt agonizingly slow for all of its occupants holding their breaths and watching the immense beast intently. The isles trembled as it adjusted itself ever so slightly, sending a hail of boulders tumbling into the ocean below. 

If the cliffs hadn’t been between the ship and the beast, the captain didn’t doubt that the waves resulting from the movement would capsize them. 

To all of their relief, the beast did nothing else but watch as their ship turned tails. Its lips went down over large fangs again but it kept the glare until they were little more than a speck in the horizon.