#for profit preachers

[nothingbuttrashhere]

That last one is probably 75% of the reason that this conflict has dragged on the way it has when you consider how many evangelical groups are funneling money into US politics and into Netanyahu’s pockets.

my local Jewish antizionist group keeps getting emails from very confused Jews trying to square the circle of how we can be Jewish without professing loyalty to Israel so i made some educational memes

i also made one for the Christians so they wouldn't feel left out :)

[sorchathered]

Little Red and her White Wolf- part 1

Summary- There is a monster that lurks in the woods surrounding the tiny village of Jertfă, will hatred and prejudice bring it to ruin? Can love survive in such desolate times? James believes it can, no matter the price.

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings- Violence, language, 18+ content (maybe?), drinking.

Prompt- Little Red Riding Hood + Apricity

A/N-My contribution to @arcane-vagabond Fairytale Writing Challenge

James Barnes had lived on the outskirts of Jerftă his whole life, a small village of no consequence in comparison to the neighboring kingdom of Sluyocan but it was home and had been for generations. Lush dark forest surrounded them on all sides, beautiful but dangerous, not that it had ever stopped him from sneaking out into the thicket to explore. He’d tried to be good and listen to his father’s orders he really had but what teenage boy doesn’t go looking for trouble, especially when there’s a pretty girl to keep him company? Scarlet was the blacksmith’s daughter, long auburn hair and bright green eyes, a pint sized vessel of mischief if he’d ever seen one.

She had been his best friend since they were small, but somehow as the years went on a change sparked between them, she had always been beautiful but now there was something more. He longed for her, when she wasn’t around she consumed his every thought, sometimes of things that he knew he shouldn’t ever think of his best friend, let alone an unmarried woman. His family wasn’t considered respectable enough for him to ask for her hand, they were just woodsmen by trade, they provided a service but it wasn’t profitable enough to raise a family, let alone marry someone of her social standing. He dreaded the day when she would become betrothed, and the older they became the more that fear gnawed at him, well that and knowing his impending fate, the one all Barnes men succumbed to at the age of 18.

His family carried the curse of the wolf, every man in his bloodline for over a hundred years was taken by the fever on their 18th birthday, forced to turn on the full moon every month. The week of his birthday arrived and his nerves were shredded to ribbons, his parents continued to assure him that no one would be harmed and he would be protected but it did little to calm him.

The hits continued to beat him down when Scarlet showed up at his door before the sun had even risen, tear stained eyes shining at him as she told him the worst news either of you could ever hear. She was to be married to the preacher’s son, Jonathan Walker and it was to be finalized within a fortnight. James couldn’t bear her tears, she pulled him out to the edge of the woods and buried herself in his arms as she sobbed, wishing now more than ever that he could take her far away and make her his. She kissed him as the sky blazed orange with the sun's first rays, professing the love he’d always hoped she’d reciprocate and he felt his heart break even further, if he could just get past this first transformation perhaps he could control it and the two of you could make your escape, but even that was a fantasy because deep down he knew the moment she became privy to the truth she would run from him as fast as she could. He couldn’t blame her, he thought bitterly, how could she be expected to carry the weight of this curse? To know that one day your children would also carry it? It would be better to let her marry the Walker boy and suffer through the heartbreak knowing she would always be safe and taken care of.

The night of his 18th birthday came all too soon, the transformation excruciating as his bones shifted and stretched to become the wolf, his brothers and father tearing through the dark woods into the night as they roamed the damp earth in their beastly form, and when the sun came up and he became himself again it felt as though he was lighter somehow, like he’d always been missing a part of himself and the wolf had filled that void. They trudged back to the village all laughter and jubilation but when they reached the square something was amiss; everyone was gathered and two bodies lay in the center, the body of Preacher Walker’s youngest daughter Rebecca, and another he didn’t recognize. She was barely 16, apparently caught up in a scandal with a local boy in the woods when they were attacked by a powerful creature, ripping their insides to shreds and taking their hearts.

James looked to his father in fear; there was only one creature who could cause this kind of violence, the very kind he had become mere hours earlier. A hunting party was arranged immediately, the men at the tavern reciting old tales they’d heard for generations of a wolf-like creature that ate the hearts of the innocent, stirring up unrest in the townsfolk as they led the charge with torches and weapons. Scarlet had snuck from her home, looking for James through the throngs of villagers, pulling him into an alleyway when he crossed her path and holding him close. “You can’t be here, you know it’s unsafe! Get back home and lock your doors, dragostea, I mean it.” She looked up at him in desperation, she was scared for her brother and father of course, but if anything happened to James she would never be able to bear the loss. “Don’t go, please just stay here so I know you’re safe, if something happened to you-“ he kissed her quickly and squeezed her hand, if anyone was to see you both her honor would be destroyed. “Nothing is going to happen to me darling, we are going to find this creature and then you and I are going to run away from here. But I can’t protect you if you don’t protect yourself so please if you love me, go back home.”

She cried all the way back to her house, looking back as she watched the group fade into the night. She didn't know what creature had done this but she knew one thing for certain; someone in her family knew the answer. Diverting her path and crossing the square she made her way to another cabin on the outskirts of the village, the home of her grandmother, Corinna. Many claimed her to be a witch, her home covered in wards and trinkets to keep the evil at bay, but she was simply an apothecary, making salves and tonics of herbs to heal the sick and injured as her mother had done before her. Surely she could help, and Scarlet was desperate for a solution. If anyone could give her the guidance she sought, it would be her beloved grandmother.

Tagging- @arcane-vagabond @baezen

[racefortheironthrone]

Warhammer Gaslamp: Introduction

The year is 2725 IC...some two hundred years since the Age of Crisis. The time of Karl Franz I, the "Fourth Deliverer of the Empire," has long past, as has the age of knights and dragons – throughout the Old World, magic itself is a dying art.

The Empire of Man is stronger than ever before, but it is an Empire that runs on coal and iron, held together with roads of steel track, and powered by boiling, thumping hearts that pump steam and gas through the veins of the mightiest industrial power in the world. The forests remain, but they have dwindled in size, cut down to feed the endless hunger of the great metropolises, the mighty smokestacks of Nuln, Talabheim, New Averheim, and greatest of all, the bright gaslights of mighty Altdorf ("The Big Turnip"), and a hundred smaller cities that light the night skies.

The Neüscience of the Imperial Technomancers has increased national prosperity a hundredfold, improved the health and well-being of the common citizens, and helped the Imperial Army, Navy, and Airkorps put the endless hordes of Khaos on the backfoot for generations. In spite of (or because of?) this, Imperial society has become increasingly divided between the elite who profit from the new economy of high finance and heavy industry, and those millions of unskilled and semi-skilled laborers whose endless toil keeps them only ever one step ahead of the breadline and the bailiff. Meanwhile, the mounting toll of industrial pollution, epidemic disease, industrial accidents, and Neüscientific “experiments” running amok raises new questions about the high cost of success.

Politics has become ever more fractious. The Imperial Parliament is divided between the House of the People, where the Farmer-Artisan Party (representing a coalition of the Craft Guilds and their fellow urban workers, and a significant minority of rural laborers and small farmers) holds the plurality, and the House of the Nobles, where the Liberal-Conservative Party (representing both the traditional landed aristocracy and the new monied elite) holds power, and the two clash fiercely over labor rights, taxation, industrial regulation, and social welfare. Holding the uneasy balance of power is Emperor Karl-Franz XIV, his "Iron" Chancellor Ludwig von Ostermark, and their smaller Patriotic Party (largely supported by veterans and members of the civil service), who try to maintain Imperial unity and industrial production in the face of the "Threat from the Black North."

In the streets and on the shop-floors, the captains of industry known as the Great Monopolhauses (allied and often intermarried with the nobility) deploy their legions of spies and private soldiers against the rising strength of the Laborer’s Guild, who are mobilizing in the factories by the hundreds of thousands, and the industrial spies and gunthugs are kept in check only by the still-potent might of the Craft Guilds who fear and resent their industrial upstart rivals but trust the bosses even less.

The religion that once united an Empire today divides it, as Orthodox Volkmarites and Radical Hussites split over matters of class and faith. Although the two factions are still nominally part of the same Sigmarite religion, and the Church of Sigmar is held together by the firm hand of the Emperor, the two factions compete fiercely over theology and dogma, and positions within the Church unto the Grand Theogonacy itself. To the north, the philosophy professor-turned-street preacher Nietzsche von Zarathustein has single-handedly revived the fortunes of the Cult of Ulric with his fiery doctrine of Neo-Ulricism and his best-seller Man unt Wulf-Man. From the great industrial heartland of the south, the radical scholar Mark Karhl preaches the overthrow of the status quo as an inherently exploitative regime, and his pamphlet The Scarlet Platform and his massive three-volume treatise on political economy, Der Gelden (which almost no one has completed), inspire many young radical students and workers to join the revolutionary Scarlet Party and the ranks of the Laborer’s Guild. Are rumors of his secret allegiance to a Tzeenchite secret society true, or mere bourgeois propaganda?

Exacerbating these divisions is the constant threat from Khaos. Up in the "Black North" and their allied territories on the great steppes on the other side of the pole, the forces of evil pervert the laws of science to their mad push for world domination. Khornate breeder-lords select from an unceasing flow of gladiators to produce the perfect warriors; Nurglite bio-priests carefully engineer the next insidious plague to slip past the Imperial Plasmic Survey; Slaaneshi sin-merchants mobilize a world-wide network of Cathayan black tar and warpdust powder (bartered from the Skaven) to corrupt the Empire from within; and Tzeenchite techno-mancers design ever more fiendish mutated F.R.E.A.K.S and the twisted Biomechs.

Inside the Empire, things are scarcely better. Even with the darkness of the forests pushed back to the periphery and the Greenskin hordes banished to the far side of the World's Edge Mountains, the threat of Were-beastmanism and other, more insidious, forces winds its way into every neighborhood in the Empire despite the best efforts of the Imperial Plasmic Survey and the Schwarzmänner. Mutants who cannot conceal their true nature – known as the "Untervolk" - have decamped into the subway tunnels and sewers that form the Undercities of the Empire, waging an unceasing war for survival against “norms” and “ratfolk” alike. From the back alleyways and the salons of the nobility alike, the endless secret societies of Khaos vie to do their masters' bidding, undermining the Empire from within in preparation for the coming war.

It is a time that desperately needs heroes, men and women willing to brave the darkness on the mean streets and the shell-torn battlefields of the Old World alike. Mystery and intrigue, adventure and mad science await!

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Antonio de Pereda y Salgado (Spanish, 1611-1678) Vánitas, ca.1660 Museo de Zaragoza

Baroque painting symbolizing the journey of life and its final destination: death.

"Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever" (Ecclesiastes 1:2-4). - The Bible

According to rabbinic tradition, Ecclesiastes was written by King Solomon (reigned c.970-931 BC) in his old age.

[fizzzyz]

More Arsentropolis concepts :D

These are pretty simple compared to the first enviroment concept I made, but I mean, they’re concepts…

The top one is of the church of this horrid dystopia, it’s the home of the preachers (nuns, priests, grand bishop, and a few others). It’s highly protected with crucifixs and holy water to ward off demons. But it’s also protected by the unnaturally tall nuns, who keep trespassers out. Even if the church wants the best for the citizens in Arsentropolis, they can’t just let anyone inside. The disease and satanism that lies in this city threatens the church, it’s really unwanted and would be a catastrophe if it got inside. The outside isn’t kept very tidy, not inside either, but it’s cleaner there at least.

The bottom image is inside of the state building where the throne party (rulers of the city) lives. It’s way more clean than the sickening streets and has warmth unlike the rest of the city. The throne party is pretty selfish, they spend all their profits on themselves, rather than the suffering people. All they really do is offer a small amount of shelter and food for a high price, jobs with low pays and high taxes. Under their control the chances of survival are low.

[clubvideotapes]

Johnny Mnemonic, 1995

En 2021, la société est marquée par un Internet virtuel, qui a engendré un effet dégénératif appelé « syndrome d'atténuation nerveuse » ou NAS. Les mégacorporations contrôlent une grande partie du monde, intensifiant l'hostilité de classe déjà suscitée par le NAS.

Johnny est un « coursier mnémotechnique » qui transporte discrètement des données sensibles pour des entreprises dans un dispositif de stockage implanté dans son cerveau, au prix de ses souvenirs d'enfance. Son travail actuel est pour un groupe de scientifiques à Pékin. Johnny rechigne d'abord en apprenant que les données dépassent sa capacité de mémoire, même avec compression, mais il accepte, étant donné que les frais élevés couvriront le coût de l'opération pour retirer le dispositif. Johnny garde secret le fait qu'il est surchargé ; il doit extraire les données dans les prochains jours, sous peine de subir des lésions cérébrales mortelles et de corrompre les données. Les scientifiques cryptent les données avec trois images aléatoires provenant d'un flux télévisé. Alors qu'ils transmettent ces images au récepteur à Newark, dans le New Jersey, ils sont attaqués et tués par des yakuzas dirigés par Shinji, qui manie un fouet laser. Johnny combat les yakuzas, s'empare d'un fragment des images de la clé de cryptage et s'échappe. Shinji rapporte son échec à son supérieur, Takahashi. Leur conversation révèle que les yakuzas travaillent pour le compte de Pharmakom, une mégacorporation. Johnny est témoin de brèves projections d'une intelligence artificielle féminine qui tente de l'aider, mais il la repousse.

À Newark, Johnny rencontre son agent Ralfi, qui le trahit. Johnny est sauvé des yakuzas par Jane, une garde du corps cybernétiquement améliorée, ainsi que par des membres des Lo-Teks, un groupe anti-establishment, et le chef des Lo-Teks, J-Bone. Ralfi est découpé en morceaux lorsqu'il se met en travers du chemin de Shinji. Jane emmène Johnny chez Spider, le médecin qui a installé les implants de Jane. Dans une clinique, Spider révèle que son association caritative médicale était destinée à recevoir les données des scientifiques de Pékin, qui ont mis au point un remède volé contre le NAS. Spider affirme que Pharmakom refuse de divulguer le remède parce qu'elle profite des traitements d'atténuation. La partie des images cryptées que Johnny a prises, ainsi que le morceau que Spider a reçu, ne sont pas suffisantes pour décrypter l'esprit de Johnny. Ainsi, Spider suggère qu'ils aillent voir Jones à la base des Lo-Teks. Soudain, un assassin engagé par Takahashi, connu sous le nom de 'The Street Preacher', les attaque, tuant Spider alors que Johnny et Jane parviennent à s'échapper.

Les deux hommes atteignent la base Lo-Tek et apprennent de J-Bone que Jones est un dauphin autrefois utilisé par la Marine, qui peut les aider à décrypter la charge utile de Johnny. Alors qu'ils commencent la procédure, Shinji et les yakuza attaquent la base. Takahashi apparaît et affronte Johnny, le tenant sous la menace d'une arme, avant que Shinji, dans un retournement de situation inattendu, ne tire sur Takahashi. Johnny et Shinji se battent, culminant avec Johnny tuant Shinji. Avant de mourir, Takahashi change d'avis et remet une partie de la clé de cryptage à Johnny. Cela ne suffit cependant pas à décrypter complètement les données. J-Bone dit à Johnny qu'il devra pirater son propre esprit avec l'aide de Jones. Johnny, Jane, J-Bone et les Lo-Teks vainquent les forces restantes envoyées à leur poursuite. Le prédicateur de rue arrive et, après un combat, est électrocuté à mort par Johnny et Jane.

La deuxième tentative commence et, aidé par l'IA féminine, Johnny décrypte les données tout en récupérant simultanément ses souvenirs d'enfance. L'IA se révèle être une version virtuelle de la mère de Johnny, qui a fondé Pharmakom et a été irritée par les actions de l'entreprise. Alors que J-Bone transmet les informations sur le traitement NAS sur Internet via des diffusions pirates, Johnny et Jane regardent de loin le siège de Pharmakom partir en flammes sous le tollé général. Pour célébrer l'événement, J-Bone se débarrasse du cadavre carbonisé du prédicateur de rue en le jetant dans les eaux de Newark.

[hyperfixaticns]

okay but craving to play an innocent little thing, she's all long lashes, and sundresses, and cowboy boots and sunday church. maybe she has been sheltered her whole life, maybe she is the preacher's daughter in an small southern town and she is wanted⸺nay, needed by everyone there who thinks of her as this sweet little thing who just doesn't know any better, and she really doesn't know any better when she steps into the lion's den. maybe he is an outsider, or a cowboy working at one of the most profitable ranches around town, he has some fame. he's a player⸺he uses and ditches them like nothing. maybe there is a bet involved, you know, who will take her virginity first, who can bend the preacher's daughter to their will. and she is none the wiser. this young little thing, naive, innocent, doesn't know what she's doing to other people around her. she's popular, she's wanted, and she's unattainable. not for him though. with some effort he manages to get closer to her, to earn her trust, to make sure she knows he's the one for her⸺it's all a game. the way he enjoys making out with her in the barn and the sweet sounds she makes when she dry humps him the first time and the way she calls god when he goes down on her and shows her what she's missing. what about the hiding and sneaking around? it's wrong, and she's supposed to save herself for marriage. but the more time they spend together, the more time he also feels just infatuated for her, the more he thinks about her, the more she gets under his skin and he's never had that, he's never had that kind of a need for someone, or loved someone at all. please give me this, it can be so painful and filled with angst. we can make it with an age gap or not. please don't reblog this post, like it if you want me to reach out.

[faestorian]

Since my plush manu continues to be a nuisance, I think I will have to cancel the bigger Gunslinger and Preacher plush projects for good. It simply is too much of an emotional and monetary investment for me, that I am not sure I will really profit from. Once the sample for WW is done (if it will even come to that) I will either use it in a giveaway or hold an auction and use the money collected to finance the Teru Plush samples that I will have made through a different manufacturer. A proper info email about it will go out later this week.

This also means all of my bigger plush projects will be put on ice, at least until I can feasibly self-fund them to a certain extent. I apologise in advance for the disappointment and hope I can figure something out in the future. I still have hope the Teru plushies will be a success, since they are smaller and will feature less detail, though will be designed with no less engagement on my end. Thank you so much for your support up to now, everyone, and apologies for any inconvenience.

[sophieinwonderland]

I don't want this to come off as rude but why do you view religion as a tool? It's just not for most people. Religion is how people live and breathe and impacts literally everything about people. It's so much more than a tool to get what you want. And I know people have used it as a tool in the past but that doesn't make them right either. So many people (plurals included) have devoted their lives to religion because it impacts them on a much deeper level than that of just a tool to be used. It has quite literally saved so many lives I just don't quite understand why you see it so shallowly. /gen

And just because people have used religion for ultimately heinous purposes doesn't mean any given person is. Most people who follow religion just resonate with it and might spread it to those who want to know about it but they don't intentionally make anyone angry with it ( I know there are some but most just don't). And I was raised christian so I very much understand having qualms and disagreements with the church I just don't quite understand why you see their beliefs so much lighter than they do?

This is all meant under good faith and I don't mean it if this came off rude and if it did I apologize. Have a lovely day/night and more power to you in your fight for acceptance :)

It's a good question. I understand how it can come off as insulting. I don’t want it to be but there isn't a better way to put it.

And I realize most people don't see it that way. I wanted to reply that the people who don't see religion as a tool are those who aren't wielding it but I imagine people who do wield it as a tool don't see it that way either. But the fact still remains.

You go to church and a preacher steps out to deliver their sermon. This preacher is a normal person given a platform by their faith and people's trust in their religion.

At some point, this preacher is going to use their platform to push some type of agenda.

A conservative preacher might give a sermon about how God hates gay people. That you need to defend the sanctity of marriage because it's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.

A liberal one might come out saying that God loves gay people. That people are born that way and that God would never make an imperfect creation. That love is love, and it needs to be defended at all costs.

Both of these people are wielding religion and their platform to accomplish their goals.

And it's not something that has happened before in the distant past. It's something happening all across the world right now.

And it's not just politics either.

There are some people out there who are going to wield this tool to enrich themselves, gaining huge profits from the Church out of their own greed.

Then there are altruistic people who will wield the faith of their congregation to fund a new children's hospital or homeless shelter and help people.

And while I talk about the preachers as they have the largest platform, plenty of other respected people in a church can wield its influence to a lesser extent.

I don't think this is a bad thing. I just think this is the way it is.

And frankly, I think liberals are too hesitant to use this tool. Many think it's manipulative and feel guilty about it. But in my opinion, good people leaving a tool like that on the table just makes it that much easier for bad people to use against them.

And I'm not saying religion is ONLY a tool either. Just that it is one.

The larger point though is that the religion itself isn't good or evil. The morality of a faith is dictated by its weilders and how they use it. And I believe that even religions which have historically caused great harm can be forces for good with good people at the helm.

[gatheringbones]

[“Many landlords were part-timers: machinists or preachers or police officers who came to own property almost by accident (through inheritance, say) and saw real estate as a side gig. But the last forty years had witnessed the professionalization of property management. Since 1970, the number of people primarily employed as property managers had more than quadrupled. As more landlords began buying more property and thinking of themselves primarily as landlords (instead of people who happened to own the unit downstairs), professional associations proliferated, and with them support services, accreditations, training materials, and financial instruments. According to the Library of Congress, only three books offering apartment-management advice were published between 1951 and 1975. Between 1976 and 2014, the number rose to 215. Even if most landlords in a given city did not consider themselves “professionals,” housing had become a business.

The evening’s speaker was Ken Shields, from the Self Storage Brokers of America. After selling his insurance company, Shields had begun looking for a way to get into real estate. He started out with rooming houses, which meant he started out renting mainly to poor single men. “Very nice cash flow. But I no longer have them.” The room chuckled. “I made some good money, and I mean, I love to get money, but I’m still just as happy not running around and dealing with some of these dregs of society who live in rooming houses.”Sherrena, who owned a couple of rooming houses, laughed along with the room. Then Shields found self-storage. “It’s got the residual incomes of an apartment building, but,” he lowered his voice, squinted, “you don’t have the people. You just got their stuff!…This is the sweetest spot in the whole American economy. A receptacle for an enormous cascade of money.”

The landlords loved Ken Shields, even if he did live in Illinois. When he finished his speech, the room broke into applause. The RING president, a mustached man with a full pouch for a stomach, stood up clapping. When there wasn’t a speaker, he often organized round robins. One such evening, a woman from Lead and Asbestos Information Center, Inc., had started off by announcing, “There is money to be made on lead,” to a room of landlords who more often lost money trying to abate it. One landlord asked whether he would have to report the presence of asbestos to the city or the tenants if he tested for it. “No, you don’t,” the woman had said.

The conversation moved on and someone else had asked about garnishing wages. A lawyer informed the room that a landlord was allowed to garnish a tenant’s bank account and up to 20 percent of his or her income, but the last $1,000 was exempt. And welfare recipients were off-limits.

“How about intercepting their tax refund?” Sherrena had asked.

The lawyer looked a bit stunned. “Noooo, only the government can do that.”

Sherrena already knew that. She had looked into it before. Her question wasn’t a question; it was a message to Eric, Mark, Kathy, and everyone else in the room that she would do almost anything to get the rent. Many white landlords knew money could be made in the inner city, where property was cheap, but the thought of collecting payments on the North Side, let alone passing out eviction notices, made them nervous. Sherrena wanted them to know that she could help.”]

matthew desmond, from evicted: poverty and profit in the american city, 2016

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Donald MacLean | To preach God’s counsel in these ways requires boldness. Paul was humble, but he was also bold: “I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable” (Acts 20:20; see also Acts 20:26–27). The temptation can be to shrink back to maintain popularity, but that was not Paul’s way. Rather he unfolded God’s…

[beba-780]

Western Ninjago - Villains

Villains

Tyrrant Clinton calls himself "Overlord" among many.

Having a lot of money and influence in society, he has had the nerve to cover up all his crimes, such as the slave trade he created for his companies and jobs, corrupt deals and manipulations, the murder of Ray, Maya and the indians who inhabited the town of Ignacia, as well as the taking of a position in Ignacia and turning it into a city that serves as a base for some Tyrrant military members, the attack on the Montgomery family farm, and the attack on the ship in which Garmadon.

Tyrran is feared by everyone for being an extremely manipulative, cold and cruel man towards anyone, even for being an extremely rich and powerful man with many resources. His generation marks the beginning of much slavery and war between his allies and the resistance that Ronin had formed.

He has every intention of reaching Djinjago because he wants to take advantage of his time, that is because the society has begun to create various weapons that can benefit Tyrrant, and if he wants to have control of everything he needed gold and money, it is That's why he wants to find the city at any cost.

He doesn't care what happens to the citizens of all of Ninjago, he doesn't even care about getting rid of all the Indian tribes in all of Ninjago, he only seeks power and doesn't plan to rest until he obtains it.

His only weakness is that he is very proud, and if he gets angry he does not hesitate to take out all his anger on anyone. He doesn't allow any mistakes in his plans, and he can get frustrated quite easily. He has some spies planted in various locations in Ninjago.

It is not difficult for him to convince various authorities to put a reward on Lloyd, the same happens with some members of the resistance, and with Ronin and Kai.

If he discovers a flaw in his plans, he will not hesitate to teach a lesson to those who disappoint him. This is what happened to Vex when Tyrrant discovers that it was his fault that Lloyd escaped from the farm with the amulet, and to remind Vex that he does not accept mistakes, he leaves a great "mark" on her that she will never forget.

Tyrrant hires Morro to bring him Lloyd alive.

Morro is a dangerous outlaw who feels no remorse for murdering anyone. He has killed so many people that he has come to enjoy it.

Morro began his career as an outlaw when he was 18 years old, after murdering his former gang that he worked with he was able to obtain the reward they offered for them. He then began murdering different gangs and important people in order to steal their belongings.

He has even gone so far as to murder members of the resistance, members of the Serpentine gang, Indians and Tyrrant soldiers.

Since he was a child he was already quite arrogant and proud of himself, and he only agreed to join a gang of outlaws because he wanted to obtain protection and wealth. He was sometimes bothered by the fact that the leader of his group shared the profits with other people.

He despised Kai from the first day he saw him, even because of him he would put Kai in dangerous situations just to be able to get rid of him. Seeing that his leader loved Kai more, he began to feel an immense amount of jealousy towards Kai, and that jealousy turned into pure hatred.

After murdering his old gang, Morro tried to find Kai so he could kill him, but he never found him. After people called him "Ghost Green" Morro finally met Kai just two years after they last saw each other. Seeing as Kai also became a famous outlaw called the "Red Shogun", the two began to have a legendary rivalry.

Morro and Kai have had small encounters, but when trying to fight or shoot at each other, Morro never managed to finish off Kai, nor Kai with him.

Despite killing some members of the Serpentine gang, Morro sometimes uses them to get what he wants.

After being hired by Tyrrant Morro does not hesitate to go after Lloyd and Kai.

Vex Hoodoo is a preacher who has been manipulating and tricking people into giving him their belongings and money by using the word of God for his own benefit. He blindly believes that he is a man of God and that the Clinthon family's will is absolute.

He fears Tyrrant too much and knows that if he fails him several times, his fate would be worse than death, and to demonstrate his loyalty he takes charge of supervising the work in the mines and companies that belong to Tyrrant. He would be the second most dangerous man below Pythor. When he is at Shintaro he likes to make Cole and Jay suffer, since they are two of his least favorite people.

Pythor P. Chumsworth is Tyrrant's protégé, this was because before meeting Tyrrant he led the band of bandits known as the "Serpentine", after being removed from the most wanted and erased from the lists of the most wanted criminals of Ninjago, Tyrrant of fered him a better deal by accepting him into his alliance in order to find the city of Djinjago. Also thanks to Tyrrant he became a public servant of the city of Ninjago and became an assistant judge.

Pythor and his gang have tattoos of different snakes, Pythor has a tattoo of an anaconda on his back, while his second-in-command, Skales, has a king cobra on his arm.

He has a great hatred towards Wu, they are both important men in society, but knowing that Wu would also run for the city's new mayor fills him with frustration.

Chen is the mayor of Ouroboros, and together with his assistant Clouse they make the city infamous for allowing access to various outlaws, bandits and Tyrrant soldiers.

He became mayor thanks to his alliance with Tyrrant, since then the city became one of the bases for Tyrrant's soldiers.

It bothers him that several members of the resistance steal his weapons and artillery, he has even imprisoned several and hanged them.

He is upset that his daughter Skylor does not support him in his plans, and he does not know that she has been betraying him to help the resistance.

Samukai is a former general who previously trained recruits in one of the training areas of the Clinthon family property, but due to his bad actions in training he was removed from his commission, but before leaving he took almost an entire battalion with him and when crossing the Long river of Ninjago he built a fort where he now lives.

After creating his fort Samukai came to attack several tribes of Indians in order to enslave them, and every time someone invades his territory he does not hesitate to kill them or turn him into a slave.

Samukai is also an expert in explosions and torture, apart from showing no mercy to his enemies. He hates the Indians too much and he also hates the people who associate with them.

The Maaray tribe are a wild tribe that seeks to eliminate all the things in Ninjago City, as well as its inhabitants. They also do not hesitate to murder other tribes of Indians that mix with the inhabitants of Ninjago.

It is a large tribe, but at the same time divided, and they have been almost a nuisance on Kai and Lloyd's travels.

[koco-coko]

Silent Night, Holy Night - Jean x Vincent, Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> Jean and Vincent spend their first Christmas together, starting with Midnight Mass.

Tags/Warnings: Romantic Fluff, Religious (Catholic) Discussions and Themes, Christmas Fic, Mistletoe Kisses

Word Count: 1,523

A/N <--> I wrote this in the span of 3 hours and in a car. These two have taken over my brain please help

I think they might like this: @natimiles @weirdwriter69 @azulashengrottospiano (if anyone wants to be added/taken off the list let me know)

Midnight Mass had ended a few hours ago. A few others stayed behind with Jean, but at this time of night, Jean was the only one left. Maybe a priest or two wandered by, a nun tended to the dusty floor for a few minutes, then all was silent. A priest with electric green eyes stared at him for a while, but retreated into the cathedral halls after enough examination with a deep chuckle.

Jean could stare at the crucifix for hours on end, only interrupted by the need to fiddle with the rosary in his hands. He’d already been through it three times, but a fourth never hurt. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

The heavy wooden doors creaked open once more, shutting softly seconds later. Jean ignored it, beading through the rosary at a breakneck pace. Then the light and careful steps reached him and there was a soft thump from the old pew when another sat down next to him.

Jean turned to his head, only to find Vincent with him. He smiled softly, though by his tense position, he was a bit nervous about being in such a holy place. Especially considering their relationship. 

Jean often wondered the same thing, but he had to repent somehow. Avoiding judgment only showed true guilt, and Jean already had enough of that on his shoulders. He looked Vincent over a few times before he leaned back onto the seat. “Is everything all right?” Jean whispered, glancing back to make sure all were gone. In such a large and empty hall, even murmurs echoed.

“You said you’d be back an hour ago,” Vincent said, scooting a bit closer, “So I came to check on you. Are you alright, sunshine?”

Sunshine? Jean’s heart went aflutter. That name sounded like a hymn for the angels, too pure to be fit for him. “I suppose,” Jean uttered slowly. 

It was a strange time for Jean. A time to celebrate the Lord, to enjoy the spoils of life and give to the poor… In the past, Jean would stay in his room most of the time, but he’d make donations to the Church with profits made from his shop. Everything else seemed frivolous to him, and the happiness floating about the air missed him completely. He was unworthy of such joy and peace. 

Vincent’s eyes thinned and his smile was pained. “You know, I was a pastor once.”

Jean almost chuckled. It was hard to tell, but Vincent had grown accustomed to the signs. “Truly?” he asked.

Vincent hummed, delighted to tell his story. “Yeah. I was a Christian, and when I was twenty-five I tried to be a preacher for a while,” he said, only to glance away nervously, “I gave up on that pretty quickly. I didn’t even show up to any Bible studies, and I got dismissed soon after.”

“Why’s that?” Jean asked calmly. After being revived, he learned to not be so critical of others and their religious choices. He wasn’t one to judge– love thy neighbor, after all. 

“Not sure. I guess I just didn’t feel a connection anymore, and it wouldn’t be right to preach what I don’t believe,” Vincent explained, resting his arms and head on the pew in front of him. “I liked painting better.”

Jean hummed in response and silence fell over them. God had strange ways of guiding his children on the right path. Often cruel, coldhearted, but ultimately for the better. Of course, now Jean had no path to follow, except the one paved by himself and his sins. There was a deep horror in being separated from the great beyond, separated with all normal functions of life…

But with Vincent here, things felt slightly normal. In the stability and mundanity came comfort. In Vincent came the yearning for more light in his life, without any guilt.

“Merry Christmas,” Vincent whispered sleepily. He grinned drowsily. “Yay.”

“Yay?” Jean asked, his eyebrow raised.

“I got to be the first person to say it to you. I’ve been wanting to do that all year,” Vincent said, digging his head into a more comfortable spot in his arms.

Jean didn’t even realize the faint pink blush growing on his cheek, let alone the soft curve of his lips. How light his chest felt when he saw the innocent wants of his lover. His impulses won over him and in a swift motion, he laid his cape over Vincent’s shoulders. He heard the painter sigh happily, his eyes beginning to close as colored light streamed from the stained glass windows.

“Merry Christmas,” Jean replied, before placing a delicate kiss on his temples. He didn’t mind if he had to carry his lover home. It was dark enough that nobody would see the two, and he was strong enough to make it back to the mansion in one piece. The real question was whether a piggyback ride would be more comfortable than bridal style for the sleepy painter.

Suddenly, Vincent groaned. Jean’s face instantly twisted in concern. He placed his hand on Vincent's back lightly. “Did I do something wrong?”

The sleepy painter grumbled in Dutch, before opening tired eyes. A frown on Vincent’s face made Jean’s heart implode on itself. It wasn’t right! Before Jean could speak, Vincent spoke in a language Jean could understand. Mostly. How late was it? How long did Jean force his boyfriend to stay up? Guilt ate Jean while Grogginess consumed Vincent.

“Ik was bijna vergeten…” Vincent started, moving to sit up, only to fail. Instead, his hand raised above Jean’s head.

He only had to catch a glimpse of green and red to know what it was. He’d seen it all around town, but he never knew what it meant. All he knew was that Arthur often carried it with him to the pub during the holidays. “When two people are under a mistletoe, it’s tradition to kiss each other. I was gonna wait until we got home, but I don’t–” Vincent yawned again, “Ik weet niet of ik zo lang op kan blijven…”

The words and accent were lost on Jean, despite how adorable it was to hear his language of origin. He didn’t need to know the words, though. He knew all he needed to. Vincent and himself were under a mistletoe, and tradition was a time honored thing. The stained glass portrait of the Virgin Mary would understand.

Before Vincent could make another move, Jean took it upon himself, as any knight (in shining armor, at least to Vincent) would do. Jean’s hand wrapped around the back of his head, his other tilting the painter’s chin up just slightly and pushed their lips into each other.

Vincent had to push down a grin. Oh, Jean… He was the true angel here. Even now he was making sure Vincent didn’t have to lift a finger, despite the fact he was holding a mistletoe above their heads. His other arm moved on its own, slowly and gently removing Jean’s eyepatch. The soldier shivered when the cold air hit the other half of his face, but no discomfort came from the fact it was revealed. It was Vincent, after all. He found beauty in everything, and it was starting to rub off on Jean.

It was a short kiss, but Vincent could taste the restrained passion on Jean’s lips. He was always shy about receiving affection, but couldn’t help but pour his passionate soul into each and every display of love he gave. Vincent’s heart swelled at the thought.

“I guess, I’ll say it again,” Vincent said, his face flushed, “Merry Christmas.”

Jean giggled softly, barely audible even to Vincent, whose nose was currently touching his. “And to you as well, mon ange. May I ask you a question?”

Vincent put his head back in his crossed arms, though after such a loving kiss, he was much more awake. “Of course, sunshine.”

“Where did you get this?” Jean asked, holding Vincent’s wrist and bringing the painter’s hand into both of their sights. The red and green plant was intertwined within his fingers.

“You’ll laugh when I tell you,” Vincent chuckled. “When I said I was waiting for you to come home, Arthur took it out of his pocket and gave it to me. He said something like: ‘Make sure you give’em a real Christmas miracle…’ or something like that.”

Jean blinked for a moment. Of course it was Arthur, but… Arthur of all people? Never in a million years did he think Arthur would want any hand in Vincent’s romantic affairs. 

Well, now that he said that, Arthur absolutely would.

“He gave me a wink, too. I think he was trying to be dirty or something.”

Ah, there it was. Jean sighed.

Vincent then chuckled at Jean’s obvious dismay at Arthur’s actions. “He had good intentions,” he said, a slight pause in-between his words. A yawn came to him once again. Jean watched his lover’s sleepiness with loving eyes. Vincent could only reciprocate for a moment, before sleep came to embrace him. “... But I think I like this ending more.”

[dk-thrive]

My own version of romance not to say magical thinking lets me down routinely. I played briefly in a church band where the preacher’s main thrust was “making things manifest,” chiefly things like influence, a sturdy profit margin, sanctified carnal happiness and, for farmers, helpful weather patterns. His delivery was thrilling but then people and money and rain clouds are going to do as they please.

— Leif Enger, I Cheerfully Refuse: A Novel (Grove Press, April 2, 2024)

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Asker of the question that led to merchant Rayyan. It inspired me. Here’s a drabble of merchant Rayyan as told through the eyes of a college student. I know that the IF is set in NY, but merchants and haggling always remind me of Korea, so imagine this is set in Nowon-gu, Seoul instead lol.

It’s a typical August afternoon: hot and humid. The streets near your college campus are filled to the brim with people, mainly students but also some tourists and others unfortunate enough to have to be out in the wet season. The congestion is made worse by the market nearby. And the proselytizing soapbox speaker. Those always draw crowds.

The market is where you are now. A mix of mall with flea market, it’s just a little ways off from the train station, and has a mix of just about everything. Haggling is permitted here, although the recent influx of international attention means that some sellers are operating on fixed prices.

You’re not the best at haggling. There’s an art to it that you just can’t get right. You always feel slightly awkward about it, especially in the mornings when the sellers are first setting up. You’d heard that the first sale of the day is really important to the merchants, and how it goes is supposed to influence the rest of the day’s sales. Even as an adult, aware that this is a superstition, you can’t shake the idea that, by haggling with a merchant, you might be forcing them into a day of no profits.

It’s why you go to the market in the afternoon. Hopefully by then, all the little kiosks will have made sales.

There’s a kiosk right across from where you’re sitting. It’d first attracted your attention because, well, because the person manning it was hot. Damn what that street preacher had to say; God gave you eyes for a reason!

The second thing you’d noticed is that they’re intense. Blunt speech, piercing gaze, fiery energy intense. It should be a little ridiculous juxtaposed as it is against the background of handmade, 100% organic, cruelty-free cat toys, but somehow it’s doing things to you.

As you watch, idly eating and not drooling, a potential customer goes over. Peruses the wares. Points to a scratching post.

It’s far too noisy to hear anything, but from the hand gestures, you can tell that the customer is trying to haggle.

The merchant’s face, already quite somber, twitches downwards into a glower.

Some people are able to command a room through the eloquence of their words. This merchant could do so through stance alone. If used as a source of energy, the auntie manning this food stall could save on propane for the rest of the day.

The potential customer gesticulates less and less until finally stopping all together, as though pinned under the ferocity of the merchant’s glare. Fumbling, the customer takes out a wallet, pulls out some bills and hands them over to the merchant before leaving, sans scratching post.

HAHAHAHAHHAHA

This is so funny and amazing.

God now I need a pt 2!!!! Rayyan as a little organic cat toy kiosk owner who robs poor unsuspecting customers of their money thru sheer force of will is everything I never knew I needed.

[fishpeanits]

「 ✦ Welcome to the waters! Let me get everything together… ✦ 」

「 ✦ … Perfect! Please enjoy your stay! ✦ 」

this blog will be a sanctuary to be unabashedly silly and enjoy the beauty of the internet’s vast connectivity. wasting time chastising “cringe” behavior or arguing over petty discourse isn’t something fishpeanits tolerates. the internet has become a cesspool of hate, and fishpeanits will not let that infection spread to this blog.

* . + What things does fishpeanits like?

› ACTIVE INTERESTS: FORTNITEEEEE, Stardew Valley, Baldur’s Gate 3, Super Mario Sunshine, Super Princess Peach, Super Mario Galaxy I & II, Bungo Stray Dogs, My Little Pony, Jujutsu Kaisen, Preacher’s Daughter / Ethel Cain, the MILGRAM Project, Fortnite, Ichthyology,

› INACTIVE YET SPECIAL: Tomodachi Life, Soulsborne (Dark Souls, Elden Ring, Bloodborne, Sekiro), Splatoon (I, II,III), Apex Legends, Boku no Hero Academia, Five Nights at Freddy’s, Ruby Gloom, Genshin Impact, Soul Eater, Earthbound, Fran Bow, Sally Face, OMORI, Ensemble!! Stars, Project Sekai, Banjo Kazooie, Botany, Kingdom Hearts, Sonic the Hedgehog,

fishpeanits can be quite forgetful. this list is subject to change. - . *

* . + What kind of content will fishpeanits post?

› #.fshits will be a collection of miscellaneous textposts and such that have no real category!

› #.fshart will be the tag used on any and all art!

› #.fshfic will be used for literary pieces! this will probably be fanfiction in most cases.

› … a special fourth item will be posted here! how invigorating!

do you trust the strangers you glimpse through a screen? fishpeanits wouldn’t. - . *

* . + What kind of people should NOT expect to be welcomed here?

「 ✦ Some of these things should be common sense, really, but they will be listed regardless. Blocking people is a blessing! ✦ 」

› PEDOPHILES { This INCLUDES: DDLG, DDLB, MDLB, MDLG, MAPs, Proshippers, etc. } and any defenders of lolicon/shotacon/pedophilia in media.

› RAPISTS and any defenders of: “Consensual-Nonconsensual”, rape “jokes”, or victim blaming. Anyone who forgives rapists.

› ZOOPHILES and any defenders of zoophilic behavior.

› Anyone who villainizes mental illness or, conversely, romanticizes/idolizes it.

› Supporters of the United States government, the Israel government, etc.

› People who focus their “activism” on petty discourse (pronouns, slurs, etc.) OR use “activism” as a means for social media fame/profit

› NFT community

› … More to come as items are remembered.

to bring it to a close, a final note . . . remember to be skeptical. do research. being well-informed is crucial in the modern world. - . *