#Vengeance of Demonic Fury

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔊𝔬𝔞𝔱𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔢 - 𝔙𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔉𝔲𝔯𝔶

#Goatwhore #Funeral Dirge for the Rotting Sun #Vengeance of Demonic Fury #Full-length #Release date: #July 21st #2003 #Genre: #Black/Death/Thrash Metal #Themes: #Satanism #Darkness #Anti-religion #Armageddon #USA

[i-only-see-daylight]

Emilia: Go to hell! 

Wrath: Where do you think I come from?

#kingdom of the wicked #kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the feared #wrath #samael #emilia di carlo #goddess of fury #queen of the seven circles #house wrath #house vengeance #queen of hell #goddess of the underworld #the feared #throne of the fallen #seven deadly sins #princes of hell #the devil #king of demons #king of the wicked #king of hell #prince of darkness

[perlelune]

Boadicea | Feyd-Rautha

You took the lives of his men. It's only fair to the na-Baron to have yours in return.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fedaykin! Reader, Fremen Reader, Forced Submission, Dacryphilia, Collars, Mouth Gag, Cannibalism, Knives, Death Fetish, Exhibitionism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Elation bursts through your chest as the dying gurgle of yet another Harkonnen soldier fills your ears. You grow even more satisfied when his body hits the ground. Another screaming bald-headed demon lunges at you. Fierce blows are exchanged. You wince as he nicks you in the flank.

The desperation to win explodes through your veins. You slam your head into his, disorienting him long enough to drive your crysknife right through his gut. Even as he falls across the sand, blood spilling from his gaping mouth, you don’t stop. Unrelenting, you keep stabbing him, fury and vengeance driving your blade. With each strike, more of his dark blood splatters over your face, adding to his slain comrades’.

A war cry rips from your throat when he stops moving. 

You rise on quaking feet, the exhaustion of hours of fending off the never-ending swarm of Harkonnen warriors crashing over you at once.

Your gaze swings across the battlefield. Horror surges within you.

It’s a slaughter. Fellow Fedaykin are burning right before your eyes. The Harkonnen artilleries rained death upon the Fremen troops the likes of which you’ve never seen before. The shock of sheer helplessness drills a gaping hole inside your chest. 

Cowards, you muse bitterly. Of course they will not face you on the ground. It is well-known one Fedaykin is worth a dozen Harkonnen soldiers. None in the known universe fight more ferociously than the Fremen. 

So they resorted to unleash heavy weapons from the sky. The sweltering Arrakis weather did the rest. 

You whirl to your little brother. Just like you, he’s covered in grime, dirt and the putrid ichor that serves as blood to the Harkonnens.

“Run, Kaleb, hide!” you yell in Chakobsa, urgency bleeding in your tone. 

You are lost. So is the rest of the Fedaykin army. But if your brother leaves now, he can use his hooks to call a maker and hitch a ride to safety.

A frown carves your little brother’s brow. “I can’t leave you,” he says.

You grip his shoulders.

“You have to. Get supplies at the village and go south with the others. Do you hear me?”

When he doesn’t reply, staring at you mouth agape, you jostle his slender frame.

“Do you hear me?” you repeat, louder this time.

He gives a shaky nod. “Yes!” 

You remove the cord around your neck to place it around your brother’s instead.

A look of terror distorts his features.

“No, I can’t take your water rings,” he says, his voice trembling.

Your forehead presses against his.

“You must.”

A single errant tear spills down his cheek and you swipe it with your thumb, pressing it between his lips so it reenters his body.

“Do not waste your moisture. Now go.”

Reluctantly, you brother scampers away. A surge of relief fills you as you watch him stand before a dune slope in the distance and plant his thumper into the sand. The drumming begins. The ground starts rumbling some minutes later to signal the arrival of a worm. You dive inside a cave, taking cover as a wave of rising sand crests above the horizon. The deafening familiar hissing of Shai-Hulud surrounds you.

You close your eyes and suck in a wide breath, soothing yourself with a common Fremen saying. 

The Uncleansed who have seen a crysknife may not leave Dune alive.

The screams of Harkonnen soldiers, unprepared for the sudden arrival of a sandworm, swell inside your ears as you settle in your hiding spot.

When the uproar dies, you ponder returning to the battlefield. However, whispers in the cave have you freeze in the rocky dint concealing your presence. 

You lean forward to steal a peek. Your heart bounces. 

Men in full Harkonnen livery stand beneath the vaulted ceiling of the cave.

Your eyes widen as you hear them idly discuss their plans to purge the remainder of the Fremen forces in the south. 

Your focus sharpens. You slow your breaths and dull your quickening heartbeats.

A wild, insane idea takes shape in your head.

If you could stay hidden long enough. Perhaps you could return to Sietch Tabr. Report back to Muad’ Dib. Warn them of the Harkonnens’ plan.

A word keeps pouring from the men’s lips, one whose meaning evades you.

Na-Baron.

Confusion knits your brow. 

As you continue trying to commit the conversation to memory, the chatter abruptly dies.

You go still, your mind buzzing.

The quiet deepens. Only the muffled sounds of the desert remain.

The blunt features of an Harkonnen warrior crowd your sight.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

Before you can hatch an escape plan, you’re roughly dislodged from your hiding spot. 

You struggle against the arms that hold you, whirling to shove your crysknife into the man’s throat. He grabs his throat, choking on his own blood before his body finds the ground with a loud thud. 

More men lunge themselves at you.

You cut down five more Harkonnen soldiers before a swarm of them surrounds you, punching and kicking you until you tumble to the ground. You cough out a trickle of blood onto the ground.

After every hit, the men attempt to interrogate you. 

“Are there any more hiding like you?”

“Where are the others?”

Every inquiry thrown at you encounters a stubborn wall of silence. You will never betray the other Fremen. Though the prospect doesn’t thrill you, you’d much rather die. In fact, you’ve already embraced your inevitable fate. This is where your story ends.

You console yourself with one fact. 

That at least you won’t leave this world a traitor.

It takes three men to restrain you long enough to tie you up. You only let go of your crysknife when one of the bald-headed warriors stomps over your hand with his boot, snapping your wrist bone and forcing your palm open. An ear-splitting scream rips from your throat. Still, you do not cry, refusing to waste your body moisture for these monsters.

You’re forced on your knees, hogtied while your broken wrist throbs against your back. The corpses of the men you slaughtered are dragged away.

Voices from outside grow louder as you hear the echo of steps fastly approaching. 

“There is only one spy left behind. We couldn’t find the others,” one of the men says. 

A gravelly voice, like the scraping of a rock against a hard surface, lands in your ears. 

“They have gone south to hide in the storms,” it says.

Your pulse escalates, your gaze lifting slowly. There is something different about the newcomer. He’s tall, athletic, with delicate, aristocratic features that are unusual amongst the Harkonnen. An aura of authority hangs around him, every soldier’s stance stiffening as he enters the cave.

He must be the one in charge, you realize.

Someone hands him your crysknife. A tide of anger mounts within you at the sight. If you were free, you’d plunge it in his neck. 

He gauges the blade attentively, his fingertips caressing the bloodied edge.

“Send this message to my uncle,” the newcomer says. “The North is tamed and secured. Harvest spice at will.”

“Yes, na-Baron,” a man near him replies before taking his leave.

Na-Baron. You frown. So it is him. 

He takes sluggish, lithe steps towards you, the corner of his lips twisting upwards.

Your muscles coil, cold tendrils of dread clutching your insides. 

Even on the battlefield, as your life hung in the balance, you didn’t feel this creeping sense of imminent danger. 

The primal, gut-deep inkling that you should run…and never look back. 

“You killed six of my men with a single blade,” he says, a mix of surprise and admiration laced in his raspy baritone. 

“She won’t talk,” the man behind him says. “We even broke her hand but she still won’t say a word.”

He cocks his head, his tone bone-chilling as he casually states, “Tell her that’s fine. I already know everything I need to know.” A man near him hands him a flame thrower. You take a deep breath. You’ve witnessed Harkonnen soldiers use them to set ablaze corpses and catch runaway Fremen, burning them alive. There isn’t a hint of emotion  in the na-Baron’s voice as he points the flame thrower at you. “Only pleasure remains.”

You lift your chin. If death you must meet, you will do it with dignity.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you reply calmly, a wide smile spreading onto your lips. 

The na-Baron’s eyes bulge and narrow, his hands dropping.

He strides forward.

“What did you just say?”

“Just get on with it, will you?” You unleash a frustrated sigh. Shouldn’t you be a charred heap of smoking flesh and bones already? What is this na-Baron wasting time for? You are resigned to it now, having used the time before to accept your fate. “I’m eager to meet my ancestors and be freed of your foul Harkonnen stench,” you taunt, hoping your insolent tongue will hasten things along. 

You wait and wait, your defiant gaze never wavering. 

But the deathly flames that should lick the flesh clean off your bones never come.

Instead, the na-Baron tosses the flame thrower on the ground and barks an order to one of his subordinates.

“Take her back to my chambers in our base.”

The man casts you a disdainful glare.

“But na-Baron. That woman is danger-” A swift slash across the man’s throat from the na-Baron’s blade has the man choking on his words. Blood fills his mouth, his body twitching as it sprawls across the ground. 

He doesn’t spare the dying man another glance, his head slanting.

He leers at you, exerting no effort to disguise the lewd intent etched in his dark gaze. 

“And make sure to tell my darlings she’s not for them to have…but for me to feast upon later.”

Fear floods your veins. You readied yourself for death, not for…whatever the Harkonnen warrior has in store for you. 

“Yes, na-Baron.”

You’re hauled off the floor. When you refuse to move, one of the Harkonnen soldiers twists your broken limb to get you to lurch forward. You clench your teeth and blink back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You will not cry. You will not give them the satisfaction.

Tears are sacred. They are to honor the dead and nothing else.

Before you’re carried away, the na-Baron approaches you and frames your jaw.

“I hear Fremen do not cry, never squander their water under any circumstance. I wonder…” A sadistic smile unfurls on his pale lips, baring a glimpse of inky black teeth beneath. His thumb sweeps across your tightly pressed lips. “What will it take for you to shed a tear for me, pet?”

You shiver in the ropes as you watch the three Harkonnen women tear bloody ribbons in the male Fedaykin’s flesh with their claw-sharp black nails. The delighted purrs they emit while feasting on human flesh bounce off the black, sterile walls of the palatial chambers.

Your gaze is wide, horrified.

You’ve seen death. You’ve seen violence. But you’ve never laid eyes on such a ghoulish spectacle before. The na-Baron’s cannibalistic mates picking the meat off the man’s bones and digging their hands inside his gut. As if he were nothing but a heap of fresh meat to sate their hunger. 

You want to peel your gaze away… but you can’t. 

You’re paralyzed.

His lifeless blue eyes, a sinister mirror of your own due to the spice melange, send prickles through your spine. 

This could have easily been you. And it would have been…weren’t it for the na-Baron’s whim changing course as swiftly as a weather vane. Just like the apparel must yield to the fickle will of the winds, you must surrender to his.

When the women are done, one of them flashes you a broad smile. Shredded pieces of organs stick to her teeth and blood covers the bottom of her face, dripping down her chin.

A shudder ripples through your spine.

Their inky, whiteless stares settle on you. They discard the mangled corpse and inch closer to you. You retreat against the wall, fear gripping your throat. Ravenous expressions light up their pretty faces. 

You swallow through your aching, parched throat. Are you next? Will they do to you what they did to that poor man? 

They whisper in Harkonnen. The confusion about the words pouring from their tongues stokes the terror consuming you. 

Then they laugh. Strident, bloodcurdling, wicked laughs. You remain still, willing your heart not to beat so loudly. 

Dying on the battlefield is one thing. Being eaten alive is another, wildly different thing. The kind of needlessly cruel death you never envisioned for yourself. 

Despite the distress tossing your senses into chaos, you force yourself not to cry. No tears, you remind yourself. Not for them. Never for them.

One of them snaps her teeth in your face. Your lip quivers as blood drains from your head. Your reaction draws another round of laughter from them.

They tease you for a while, their threats disturbingly clear despite not understanding a lick of their coarse native tongue.

It’s in their hunched, predatory stance, the hunger twisting their pretty features. They could pounce on you at any time, rip you to shreds and you’d be powerless to stop them.

Their vicious taunting is still in progress when the na-Baron storms into his chambers. His arrival does nothing to alleviate your worries. 

A fond smile ghosts over his lips as he soaks the scene before him.

“I see you’ve met my darlings.” The women coo as he approaches them. He lovingly cradles each of their faces, planting deep, passionate kisses on their lips. The sickening display by your fellow Fedaykin’s slain form a few feet away makes your stomach wrench. “Darlings, meet my new pet.”

“I’m not a pet,” you snarl.

The women hiss at you in concert, sounding like snakes ready to strike. You flinch backwards. 

He cocks his head. 

“You are whatever I say you are.” He glides towards you slowly. Once he’s in front of you, he taps the booted tip of his foot into your bruised knee. His gravelly baritone scratches along your eardrums. “Kiss my feet. I’m your master now.”

You squint at him. 

“Fuck you.”

His plump mouth quirks lopsidedly. He then kicks you in the gut without ceremony. The searing pain knocks the breath from your lungs. You keel over, groaning against the tiles. 

He hunkers down and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards. The sting in your scalp has you blink back tears before they can spill. 

“In time, pretty little pet.”

Steps echo from afar. A man enters the room. The na-Baron’s authoritative timbre whips across the stiff, sweltering air of the room.  

“Did you bring what I asked?”

“Yes, na-Baron,” the man replies swiftly. From the corner of your sight, you get a glimpse of metal. Panic sings inside your veins.

As your pulse soars, you’re shocked when the ropes around your frame come loose through a few nimble slashes of a knife. 

You jump to your feet.

Your shocked gaze locks with his. Amusement decorates his features. 

Layer after layer, he removes pieces of his armor. Until his carved alabaster, muscles are exposed to you, leaving him in little more than a thin strip of fabric hanging precariously over his tapered waist. 

A second long, curved blade is tossed at your feet.

Your eyes bounce from the weapon to him. Utter confusion wars with fright within you. 

When the guards begin to draw their weapons, he barks at them, “Don’t.” They place their weapons back in their sheaths. He opens his arms, the blade in his hand glinting in the dull light of the room. “Go on. This is your chance.”

You gawk at him. Is he truly baiting you to attack him? Does his life mean nothing to him? Is he a madman?

Your brows crumple. With every second, your confusion grows. 

He approaches you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins. You rush to pick up the knife with your unbroken hand and point it at him. 

There isn’t an ounce of fear in his eyes as he inches closer, the blade grazing his bulging pec.

“Do it,” he challenges, a clear taunt in his haughty inflection.

Your mouth trembles. What do you stand to lose? You will never see Sietch Tabr or your brother again. You’re a war prisoner. You might as well be dead. You should be dead. In another life, you would already be.

You suck in a sharp breath. You move as quickly as your feet and dwindling strength allow. He matches each of your brutal, clumsy blows. You go for his head and he dodges with ease, grabbing your broken wrist, causing you to stumble. Your breath falters, throbbing pain exploding in your limb. Grinding your teeth, you whirl and deal another series of strikes. He parries each of them, a delighted expression etched on his slender features. Anger glows within you. He’s enjoying this. While you’re in agony, he finds pleasure in every brush with death.

You graze his cheek, leaving a long cut across his flesh. A demented, black grin breaks out on his face. The fight continues for a few more minutes, the clash of metal and his feral roars swelling in the room. 

It ends with him tackling you to the ground as he slams your wrists besides your head. The knife slips out of your grasp. You hold your breath, helplessness filling you as his muscular frame drapes over yours.

His lips skim against your temple. 

“You fought well, sweet pet. Better than most,” he whispers. You shudder when his cool tongue drags over your cheek. “But it’s time I claim my prize.”

Ice ripples through your blood. You struggle beneath him as he rips your stillsuit from your body. Every effort to fight against him is for naught. Soon, your bruised and battered form is completely bare to him. 

He drinks you in as your chest lifts and sags, lust sparkling in his dark gaze. He wrestles a collar around your neck and a ring-shaped gag on your mouth. The contraption forcing your lips apart makes you feel even more trapped than before. He tugs off the cloth covering him, revealing his massive erection, the pale tip already glistening with his arousal.

He hoists you up until you’re on your knees. His fist tangles in your hair, wrenching your neck backwards. Muffled moans of protest fly from your throat.

“I never wondered what a desert rat’s mouth felt like before. But now…” He pumps himself, his tongue darting out to sweep over his bottom lip. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

He slips his tip between your lips, nudging you closer when you try to turn your head. That mere contact has him purring in delight. You push against his thighs, desperation swelling as your palms meet unflinching bands of thick, corded muscles. Even the tip of him feels like too much, the corners of your mouth bursting at the pressure. You groan, completely helpless as he pushes more of himself in your mouth. 

He cradles your face, his grip firmer than before, and plants his feet in the ground. You gag on his length as he finds the back of your throat, the salty taste of his skin filling your mouth. Shame wells up inside you. Tears burn the back of your eyes as you choke on his size. 

Nearby, the cannibalistic women laugh at your torment, sharing words in Harkonnen you don’t understand. 

The na-Baron snickers, making you jolt as he shoves inside you to the hilt. The corners of your mouth ache, both from the device and his thick girth. 

“Yes. She does take me gloriously, doesn’t she?" He smirks. "Like a true warrior.”

Hatred burns in your eyes as you glare up at him. He seems to bask in the sight, moaning in pleasure as he starts thrusting inside your mouth. 

You’re left with no choice but to take his merciless assault. His eyes roll back as he bruises your throat and steals your breath. Stilted whimpers roll off your tongue.

Your eyes sting. You try your hardest to swallow every tear and sob, but as time goes on…your pride crumbles. In its stead, only despair remains. 

Tears swell in your eyes and make a slow descent down your cheeks. 

“Ah, there it is,” he rasps, collecting the droplets with his thumbs. 

As he brings one to his tongue, humming at the taste, you feel him grow harder on your tongue. 

The pit of your stomach sizzles. With humiliation. With defeat. 

Throaty moans pour from his chest, his head tossing back as he pounds harder into your mouth. 

Your body goes limp, his hands the only thing keeping you on your knees. Your vision blurs as you become nothing but a toy for the na-Baron, a vessel for his brutality. A tool to satisfy his basest needs.

“Perhaps, we shall keep that one. What do you think, darlings?” The women’s excited squeals land in your ears. He caresses your damp cheeks. “And if she ever bores us, well…” He licks his lips, a wide grin unfanning on his face. “We’ll make sure no part of her goes to waste.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #dune #dune part two #feyd-rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dark!fic

[bonefall]

Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock

It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.

I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.

She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.

I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.

But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.

See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.

Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.

BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.

Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.

I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.

Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.

But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid

SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.

Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.

In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.

Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.

And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.

I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.

MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.

I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.

Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.

I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.

And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.

In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.

You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.

That's what makes her interesting, though.

I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile

why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.

Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.

It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.

But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.

One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.

Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.

But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.

And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.

But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?

What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.

And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh

We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.

We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.

AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.

We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.

But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?

Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.

It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably

I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.

Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also

#bone babble #Mapleshade #Mapleshade's Vengeance

[theprinceofliones]

Elizabeth never relished in her previous title; "Bloody Ellie". It was something that made her stomach churn when reminded of harsher times during the first Holy War. Her name shot fear through the hearts of all demon-kind and any stupid enough to face her would likely not live to tell the tale. It was not a happy time in her life, she was more slave and soldier for her mother than a daughter.

It wasn't a title she wore with pride, it wasn't one she enjoyed basking in. In fact, she had come to despise it and was overjoyed that she lived in a time of peace where that name could never be uttered again.

Instead, the people of her kingdom referred to her as the; "Goddess of Wrath."

With the disappearance of her son, who was most likely either killed by the hands of King Arthur Pendragon or being held hostage within the Chaos Realm of Camelot, all traces of the once "Good Queen Elizabeth" were gone. King Arthur hadn't just taken the kingdom's Crown Prince, he had taken the people's good and gentle queen with him.

Prince-Consort Meliodas was an empty tomb, a shell of what used to be a strong and noble man. He was nearly as lifeless as a doll, limp and useless practically. His son was the one thing that made all of his suffering for over three millennia worth going through, was the very centerpiece of his world along with his beloved wife. Prince Tristan was the king's soul, his heart walking outside of his body, and he had been /taken/. The Prince-Consort was ruined and was a dead man walking to the people of Britannia, damned to his own personal hell with the loss of his son and his once kind wife.

Queen Elizabeth, on the other hand, had never seemed more alive, but it was if she was being kept breathing by the scorching flames of /hatred/ that fueled her soul every waking second of every waking hour, practically breathing smoke from the fumes of her wrath. Every moment, she worked to find King Arthur and take his head as she had once demanded of her husband, /commanding/ that his dead ruins be brought to her for what he had done to her little boy.

She had taken complete control of the Holy Knights and the kingdom's military, planning counter attacks and carefully planned battles against King Arthur and his army. Every day, the kingdom awaited news that Queen Elizabeth had taken revenge and avenged their beloved prince. But, as days, weeks, and months passed, no end the sudden exploding war was in sight.

The kingdom thought that peace was finally here in it's totality, that after the second Holy War, there would never be such a bloody war ever again, that everyone would move on to work towards an eternal peace within the realm.

King Arthur had taken that from them, and had taken their beloved, kind, and generous Queen, Prince-Consort, and Crown Prince along with it.

And, they swore they'd never forgive him. Not in this life, nor the next.

Meanwhile, Prince Lancelot of Benwick carried the fury of the country in his heart and very soul.

He was on the front lines at all times. Every time they'd face a Knight of King Arthur, Prince Lancelot was there to take them out, to take his own piece of revenge for what King Arthur had done to his best friend, the other half of his soul, almost, as Prince Tristan and him were born only five days apart and had grown up side by side before his disappearance.

He was a merciless beast of a man, as he had his future stolen from him, his future with Prince Tristan. Everything they could've had together was no more, gone in the blink of an eye.

When he was informed of Prince Tristan's death and disappearance, Prince Lancelot swore a great promise of /vengeance/ against King Arthur, bowing before the Queen and swearing to her that he'd deliver the damned bastard's head to the royal family no matter the cost. Those who were witness to this, whispered that Prince Lancelot even /wept/, shaking and sobbing as he swore his revenge before Queen Elizabeth.

He was the Goddess of Wrath's; "Master of War", as some called him. She was the Judge and he was her Executioner.

The rest of the Seven Deadly Sins aided in Queen Elizabeth's war plan. As the King and Queen of the Fairy and Giant race, the King and Queen of Benwick, Lord Gowther, and even the King and Queen of the Demon Realm, all joined Queen Elizabeth and stayed at her side.

Meanwhile, the once revered Captain of the Seven Deadly Sins drowned in cups and ale to wash away the devastation that laced his being. He was no longer the supposed "Sin of Wrath" he had been nearly twenty years ago. He was stripped of everything and his anguish was the only thing left of him.

The King of Benwick, Ban the Fox Sin of Greed, often visited his former Captain, rumors spread---as the Prince-Consort was cooped up in his son's bedroom and never left it. Guards who were stationed near the former Prince's bedroom would often hear Prince-Consort Meliodas /weep/ whenever King Ban visited him. They could hear the sounds of sobbing, sounds filled with so much pain that maids and servants alike steered clear from Prince Tristan's former chambers because of the anguished wails coming from beyond those double doors.

No one knew what King Ban and Prince-Consort Meliodas spoke of behind the closed entrance, nor do they know what other things transpired. All they knew, was that a family had been split in two, and neither the Queen nor Prince-Consort would ever be whole and hale again.

With Prince Tristan's death, the dominos of all out /war/ fell into place; and the clash of wrath and chaos would now explode all across Britannia.

And no one, not a single damned soul, would be left unscathed---not while the "Goddess of Wrath", Queen Elizabeth still drew breath.

She would avenge her son. No matter the cost.

And /nothing/ would escape her wrath.

#nanatsu no taizai #mokushiroku no yonkishi #the seven deadly sins #the four knights of the apocalypse #tristan liones #lancelot #meliodas #elizabeth liones #4kota #nnt #nnt manga #meliodas nnt #nasiens #four knights of the apocalypse #ban nnt #percival #king arthur #ban the undead #ban the seven deadly sins

[secretdiaryofcrowley]

Where we left off: Shax, newly anointed Duchess of Hell, jumpscared our hero in his bentley….

…. and apparently, she wants to bribe me with liquor-filled chocolates to come back to Hell. I’m not going back, but first I puncture the chocolates with a pen to drink all the liquor. Oh, and did I mention I’m small? (the puncturing and drinking thingie wouldn’t work too well if I was my usual size).

“Stop deluding yourself, Crowley. Deep inside, you already know that Aziraphale left for one reason only. You are a demon and you will never be good enough for him.” Shax tilts her head to the side in one of those familiar bird-demon gestures and watches me intently with one eye.  “How does that make you feel, Crowley? Hurt? Angry? Will you let an angel treat you this way? Break you and cast you away like a used toy?”

I clench the pen and ram into the next piece of chocolate like a tiny lance. This is ridiculous. She doesn’t know the least thing about my angel. However delusional Aziraphale may be for believing he can make a difference in Heaven, deep down his intentions are good. He never wanted to hurt me.

“You gave up everything just to be with him, and you’ve risked everything, even your own destruction. And at the first grasp of power – he’s gone!”

No. No, no, no, no! This isn’t about power. Aziraphale doesn’t care about power at all. He wants to change the system from within. He wants to turn Heaven into the place of light, he always believed it’s meant to be.

But in this belief, there’s no place for a demon. There would have been a place for the angel I was, but I can no longer be that angel.

Shax’ eyes glitter. “I’m not offering you a job, Crowley, I’m offering you a chance at revenge. Rise from the ashes and use that burning fury inside you against the one who wronged you. Unite with me and strike him down on the battlefield in the Great War to come.”

Revenge? Burning fury? I almost choke on the burning whiskey running down my throat. Course, I understand where this is going, she wants to me to direct my anger against Aziraphale. She wants me to become the big bad demon in shiny black armour raining fire and destruction in his unquenchable thirst for vengeance.

Bloody Heaven, I can almost picture this. Aziraphale and me having a face-off in the midst of battle. He’s probably wearing something silvery-white and carrying – I don’t know – some flaming sword or lancea-longini-spear-of-destiny-thingie. And then we’d look into each other’s eyes and stab each other very dramatically with Heaven and Hell watching. And maybe, just maybe, we’d die even more dramatically in each other’s arms with white and black wings entwined.

There’s only one little mistake in this scenario, we did this whole silver knight - dark knight scenario a thousand years ago in King Arthur’s Court and it hasn’t become any less pathetic since then. And second – a crank handle isn’t really made for stabbing. Or fighting in wars for that matter.

“Sorry, Shax.” I’m back to normal size now, sitting in my usual seat behind the wheel. “Nice career option, just not seeing myself there. Anyway, thanks for the booze and tell Hastur, I said ‘hi’”.

She looks at me incredulously. “This choice will have consequences. If you stand aside like a coward, you will be crushed like one.”

“There are always consequences.” I shrug. “But it’s not cowardice, although you probably don’t believe me.”

“What is it, then?” She eyes me suspiciously.

“I just don’t feel it, Shax. All this silly power play for rank and influence and who-get’s-the-biggest-throne-and-the-shiniest-medal. I know, we demons are supposed to live for this, but I just don’t care.  And, you know, that eternal-fiend-thing with the angels? Don’t feel that either.”

“Earth has made you weak.” She shakes her head. “All of us will assemble and take our positions in the last stand. Like on a chess board. If you don’t take yours, you will be totally insignificant in the game to come. And my offer was better than anything you could've hoped to achieve. You could’ve been my Second-in-Command, once I sit on Beelzebub’s old throne.”

She can’t know that she’s already the second person to offer me a position like that. The third, actually, if you count “The United States of Beelzebub”.

No.

No Heaven for me. No Hell for me. I’m done.

“I’m perfectly fine with being insignificant.” I want to add more, but she’s already vanished.

Anyway, I’m keeping the coffee. Or in my case, the liquor.

~*~

More Diary Parts

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #shax #shax duchess of hell #crowley's crank handle #demon power play #crowley doesn't want to be a chess figure

[charalysis]

Darksiders: War

So, I may once again reference real world disorders as a launching pad for discussion about behaviors and actions. I will reference both games and book. Thank you!

To begin, let's talk about War's baseline characteristics.

War is certainly more, shall we say, heroic of the Four. He is loyal, lawful, and regularly tries to be by the book, methodical, and overall tries to be good. Maintaining Balance in the universe is his main goal, the thing he strives for. He wants things to maintain order, regardless of who's messing it up. Admittedly he had a bias against demons, but that's not to say he likes angels.

In his efforts to be a lawful individual, he also strives to be a better person overall by trying to be kinder than other Nephalim where he can. He seeks connection and even affection, with Strife in particular.

Throughout Genesis, War and Strife can stop and talk and often these conversations drift towards the emotional and hard to discuss. Charged topics that Strife has genuine difficulty addressing.

But War helps him work through these emotions and topics, giving him his own perspective and trying to ease his mind, even if it fails or they disagree. No matter what, War seems incredibly willing to stay by Strife's side.

This loyalty and desire to help and seek connection is also present in Abomination Vault, when he goes to help Death handle the crisis, despite being told no and even threatened. He is eager to help the eldest Horseman, and he is even angry at himself for nearly dying/dying, thinking he's failed Death some how. He doesn't even question it when he's brought back by Death, he just rambles about his failures and saying Death should have let him die.

And with Fury, he shows he cares for her. When Fury is summoned to handle the Seven Sins, War is already bound by the Council. She's surprised by his state and the accusations, but ultimately is dismissive for the moment. War, on the other hand, speaks to her. He tries to warn her to be cautious, tell her something is acting against them and trying to hurt them, showing he very much cares about her well-being and safety.

War is repeatedly shown to be caring, in his own way, with his brothers. He worries about their safety, tries to assist them as needed, and tries to comfort them in their grief or anger. He is exceptionally loyal to them and doesn't seem eager to betray or harm them.

Loyalty, while being a fantastic virtue, is ultimately one of his biggest flaws too.

From Genesis and a good bit into the first game (canon's timeline wise), we hear him constantly say that he doesn't think he or the others should question the Council. He's the biggest believer in the Balance and is the most eager to maintain it. He is unwaveringly and unquestioningly loyal to the Council, which is ultimately why he doesn't suspect them directly of screwing him over until much much later on in game one. His loyalty blinds him to the notion of betrayal from the Council.

However, whenever he finds out his loyalty has been betrayed, he is far from afraid of going scorched Earth and enacting revenge. He, with Uriel's assistance, kills the Watcher for his treatment and for being a pawn in the clearly corrupt Council's machinations against the Horsemen.

And revenge/vengeance is apparently something War isn't unknown for. He's clearly displayed enough "eye for an eye" behavior over the centuries for the Council to note its a perfect motivator for him. Thus, he became their scapegoat and was thrown to Earth to prove his innocence. And Samael later points out that he "knows a quest for vengeance when he sees one". Samael's semi-Omniscience aside, he isn't wrong in just making the assumption. War was absolutely aiming to make Abbadon, Straga, and anyone else in his way pay for their actions. I do find it interesting that, ultimately, he chooses to spare Ulthane and Azrael.

Granted, Ulthane does help him more than hinder him despite being antagonistic. And in the case of Azrael, War realized he needed the angel's help, then also saw the immense regret within him. Of course, War is also fully aware that Azrael is a powerful archangel, adept in illusions. He also likely wouldn't have risked a fight with Azrael lest he die, or he actually kill the angel and lose out on valuable information. All this to say, War's intelligent and isn't a stranger to variables, despite often acting on emotions.

Despite popular belief, War is not hot headed or temperamental. War is actually extremely level headed and calm. He thinks through his actions and possible causes. He tries to account for all outcomes, and the consequences of his actions. If he can gain a tactical advantage.

Because he is an embodiment of war itself.

Wars are brutal, bloody, violent... But it's not about whos weapon is better that wins. There's strategy, planning, and a lot of luck.

War himself strategizes a fair bit when it comes to who he can keep alive and who he can get away with killing. Who can be his ally and who he can sacrifice as a foe. He measures who he can take on and who's not worth it.

Its why Samael and Vulgrim don't die, despite War's bias against demons.

Samael, even in a weakened state, is too powerful for War to take on alone. Samael, though, offers assistance if he himself is helped first. War isn't stupid enough to reject help from someone he a, can't kill, and b, is offering their powerful assistance.

Vulgrim had the benefit of Council endorsement at first, but War certainly realized the value he got from dealing with the merchant. Vulgrim offers him health shards, weapon and magic upgrades, and of course, Serpent Holes.

The value of these two cannot be understated in the first game, especially since War is utterly alone otherwise. They're who we spend most of the game with, aside from the Watcher.

Now onto my favorite topic! Symbology!

Similar to Death's mask, War's got a hood obscuring most of his face, particularly his eyes. In fact, he often has to adjust how he's looking around to properly see sometimes.

In terms of symbology we can infer this to be representative of his own clouded and obscured view of things. He has to shift the facts into just the right order and perspective to see the truth of what's happening to him and what happened to cause the apocalypse.

Another piece of symbology is which arm of his his prosthetic.

The left.

Biblically speaking there's a few things to address, as Darksiders is heavily based in Christian and Jewish mythology. I am wildly unfamiliar with Judaism and their symbology, despite lengthy research attempts, and thus am uncomfortable addressing the possible symbology on that side if things. However, I am familiar with Christianity.

In the Bible, the hands are referenced a few times, but the right hand is referenced about 100 times, where as the left hand is mentioned maybe 25, all negatively. However I wish to focus on one particular passage.

Matthew 6 says, "Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. [3] But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: [4] That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly."

This essentially says, "don't tell everyone when you're being generous. Don't brag about generosity or your righteous deeds, for that's not righteous or virtuous. That needs to stay between you and God".

In the case of War, he doesn't often hide what he's doing when he's been told to do it by the Council, often announcing it to those he deems allies. He's not exactly subtle or easy to miss. Nor is his prosthetic.

He's obviously a Horseman, he's obviously on a mission when he's seen out places he's not normally. Everyone knows something has happened, or going to happen, when War shows up. War isn't keeping his service to the Creator secret in any way.

Outside of Christianity, and into more occult and spiritual circles, the left hand is symbolic of dark magic, darkness, and weakness.

War's left arm is the one he was wielding Chaoseater with when Death cut his arm off.

Since that, hes worn a almost demonic looking, magical prosthetic that basically has a pocket dimension I think.

When his arm was cut off, it was in a moment of emotional weakness, and he just so happened to run Death through, a far stronger opponent. So his weakness was cut from him in a way and replaced with the stronger, and useful, prosthetic gauntlet.

Bad segway: War's also not taken as seriously by the other Horsemen. He's the baby of them, likely the last of an entire generation of young Nephalem. Often it seems the other three don't take him seriously until he proves them right. Strife though seems more willing to hear him out, but that could be because they're pretty close, even able to laugh together.

Tl;Dr: War is intelligent and loyal, even kind, but lacks the ability to see passed his ambition or goals until its almost too late. He's also surprisingly impulsive.

#character analysis #war darksiders #darksiders war #darksiders warmastered edition #darksiders death #darksiders genesis #darksiders strife #darksiders fury #darksiders #long post

[mindyco]

Hello, how are you doing? I was wondering if you could write for the demon brothers with an s/o who's blind in one eye because of a scar they got in a fight back in the human realm?

Would they seek out the other human who caused it or leave it be? Thank you! I hope you have a nice week! ^ ^)/ ☆

Thank you, babe! I hope you have an amazing week as well~ ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ̀ˋ I was kinda confused as to whether we already had the scar or if we had just gotten into the fight and came back with the scar- I just chose the latter, but if it's the other one then I could always make a second one! I would like to write another one about how we're blind in the one eye after the fight, but this headcannon only mentions the scar on their face. Sorry it's very long, the idea you gave me was hella good so I couldn't stop! Thank you! Artwork credit: @myt_s3

Warnings: slight gore

Scenario: The brothers' reaction to us getting a scar

Lucifer surveyed the scar on your face with a mixture of concern and anger. He believed in upholding justice, and vengeance was a means to that end.

With a calculated mind, Lucifer orchestrated a plan that would systematically dismantle the human responsible. He used his influence and power to ruin their reputation, turning their once prosperous life into a living nightmare.

He ensured that they faced the consequences of their actions at every turn, their existence reduced to a mere shadow of what it once was.

Lucifer's vengeance was subtle yet devastating, a testament to his strategic brilliance. He reveled in watching their downfall, the flicker of despair in their eyes fueling his satisfaction.

Through his unwavering pursuit of justice, he protected you and ensured that the human responsible would never again harm those under his care.

Mammon seethed with anger upon seeing the scar on your face. His protective instincts flared, and he yearned to confront the human responsible for causing you such pain.

"Nobody messes with my human and gets away with it!" Mammon growled, his voice dripping with venom.

Driven by his impulsive nature, Mammon's first instinct was to seek immediate retribution. He wanted to unleash his fury upon the one who had harmed you, to make them pay for every ounce of suffering they had inflicted. However, you understood the consequences that such actions would bring, and you gently intervened, stopping Mammon in his tracks.

Mammon's anger simmered as he looked into your eyes, his heart torn between his desire for vengeance and his love for you. Eventually, he relented, realizing that your well-being was his top priority.

He enveloped you in his strong arms, offering a comforting embrace. The scent of his familiar cologne filled your senses as he whispered words of reassurance, his voice laced with an underlying determination.

"I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you," Mammon confessed, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "But if it's what you want, I'll put that human scum out of my mind for now. Just promise me you'll always let me protect you."

And even in the moments where you felt self-conscious of the scar, Mammon would love every fiber of your being.

"Mammon, please," you pleaded, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "I don't want you to see it. It's ugly."

His eyes softened as he took in your anxious expression. With a gentle smile, he approached you, his fingers removing your hand that blocked your scarred eye.

"Listen up, human," Mammon said, his voice filled with sincerity. "There ain't nothin' ugly about you. Not a single thing. And that scar on your face? It's a part of you, just like every other piece that makes you so special."

With tenderness in his touch, Mammon leaned in and peppered kisses all over your face, his lips brushing against your skin with each sweet contact. His actions were deliberate, as if he were mapping out a constellation of affection, reminding you that your scars didn't define your worth.

As time passed, Mammon remained steadfast by your side, his devotion unwavering. The memory of the human responsible for your scar lingered in the recesses of his mind, serving as a reminder of the pain you had endured. But he chose to focus on the love he had for you, channeling his energy into supporting and comforting you during your healing process.

Leviathan was initially at a loss for how to confront the scar on your face. His natural inclination towards virtual worlds and gaming made it difficult for him to grasp the severity of the situation, and he struggled to find an appropriate response.

Though he understood that the scar required a real-life resolution. While he wasn't one to engage in physical confrontations, his determination to protect you burned fiercely within him.

Recognizing his strengths in the digital realm, Leviathan harnessed his expertise to unveil the truth about the human who had caused you harm. With his unparalleled skills in online research and information gathering, he delved deep into the vast network of interconnected data.

Hours turned into days as Leviathan meticulously pieced together fragments of information, leaving no digital stone unturned. He uncovered the human's online presence, exploring their social media accounts, forum discussions, and digital footprints. His envy became a driving force, spurring him to expose the truth and bring justice to your doorstep.

Online, Leviathan donned the persona of an anonymous hacker, a figure who weaved through the digital labyrinth undetected. With cunning precision, he orchestrated a series of calculated moves, revealing the human's misdeeds to the public eye.

Through a carefully orchestrated online campaign, Leviathan unearthed every piece of evidence, every unsavory detail about the human's actions. He disseminated the information across various platforms, tarnishing their reputation and reducing their life to shambles.

As the virtual realm buzzed with the damning revelations, the human's world crumbled around them. Their once-innocent façade shattered, exposing the darkness that lay within. Friends turned their backs, opportunities evaporated, and their influence dwindled. It was a revenge orchestrated through the power of information, a fitting retribution for the pain they had caused you.

Meanwhile, in the real world, Leviathan stood by your side, offering unwavering support and care. He knew that revenge alone couldn't heal the wounds you carried, and his focus shifted to ensuring your well-being and providing the love and comfort you needed.

Satan, the embodiment of knowledge and wrath, gazed at the scar on your face with a mix of protectiveness and a seething anger that threatened to consume him. For decades, he had meticulously honed his control over his inner demons, striving to keep his wrath in check. However, in that moment, his restraint teetered on the precipice of collapse.

As the fury welled up inside him, Satan struggled to rein it in, his hands clenched into fists. The sight of the scar served as a catalyst, awakening a primal desire for vengeance. Every fiber of his being yearned to unleash his wrath upon the human responsible, to make them pay for the pain they had caused you.

But then, he looked into your eyes, the warmth and trust that reflected within them momentarily grounding him. He realized that succumbing to his unbridled wrath would only bring further harm, not just to the human but also to you.

With a determined yet controlled expression, Satan vowed to channel his anger into a relentless pursuit of justice. He dedicated himself to uncovering every detail about the human responsible, to ensure that they faced the consequences for their actions within the bounds of the law and without jeopardizing your safety.

Though the struggle to contain his wrath persisted, Satan channeled his energy into meticulously planning their downfall. He used his vast knowledge and cunning to expose the truth, leaving no stone unturned. In doing so, he sought to bring them to justice through legal means, ensuring that their actions were brought to light and that they faced the consequences of their deeds.

As the human's life unraveled, Satan watched with a mix of satisfaction and detached amusement. Their downfall was evidence to his meticulous planning and unwavering dedication to protecting those he cared about. He ensured that they suffered the consequences of their actions, their existence forever tainted by the knowledge that their own choices had led to their demise.

Asmodeus refused to hide the scar with layers of makeup, no matter how much you begged. Instead, he saw it as an opportunity to create something truly unique and mesmerizing.

With his deft hands and artistic eye, Asmodeus used makeup as a form of artistry, accentuating the scar in a way that made it look beautiful on your face. He embraced its presence as part of your individuality, refusing to let society's standards define your worth.

"Darling, every brushstroke on your face is a masterpiece," Asmodeus would whisper, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "The scar shows your strength and resilience. You are more beautiful with it than without."

Despite your occasional doubts and insecurities, Asmodeus showered you with words of affirmation and adoration. He made it his mission to remind you, day after day, just how beautiful you were. His compliments were genuine and heartfelt, spoken with a fervent passion that left no room for doubt.

He reveled in the opportunity to showcase your unique beauty, to celebrate every facet of your existence. With each encounter, Asmodeus made it clear that his love for you transcended physical perfection, embracing your imperfections as part of what made you captivating and alluring.

Beelzebub, his protective instincts raging, felt a burning desire for revenge upon seeing the scar on your face. The image of the human responsible lingered in his mind, tempting him to unleash his formidable strength upon them. However, Beelzebub knew that vengeance was not what you needed in that moment.

Instead, he chose to cherish you, to provide the love and comfort that would help heal your wounds—both physical and emotional. Beelzebub cradled you in his massive arms, his touch gentle yet reassuring. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the air as he whispered words of affection and reassurance.

"You're beautiful, scar and all," Beelzebub murmured, his voice brimming with genuine sincerity. "I love you for who you are, with or without the mark. Please don't forget that."

With each tender caress, Beelzebub conveyed his unwavering devotion, offering solace and support during your time of vulnerability. He understood that revenge wouldn't erase the pain you had endured, and instead chose to channel his strength into protecting and comforting you.

Belphie was initially conflicted upon witnessing the scar on your face. His laid-back nature and tendency to prioritize rest and slumber often shielded him from the harsher realities of the world. However, as he comprehended the pain etched on your features, a surge of protectiveness awakened within him.

Belphie's typically drowsy eyes sharpened with determination as he acknowledged the injustice that had befallen you.

With his wings unfurled, casting a shadow of darkness, Belphie located the human responsible for your scar. His movements were swift and silent, as if he were a phantom navigating the human realm undetected.

Tracking down the individual who had caused you harm, Belphie confronted them with an otherworldly aura. His demon form radiated power and menace as he towered over the trembling human. The air grew heavy with the weight of impending retribution. Without a word, Belphegor lunged at the human, his grip tight around their throat.

A chilling smile curved Belphie's lips as he looked into the human's eyes, mirroring the fear and anguish they had once inflicted upon you. His bored expression remained unchanged as he watched the color drain from their face, his hold unyielding until their lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

The scene transformed into a tableau of darkness and blood, as Belphie's wrath found its release. The human's life force drained away, their body collapsing to the ground, lifeless and void of the malice they had once possessed.

With the deed done, Belphie returned to HOL, pulling you into his arms, he cradled you gently, offering solace and reassurance in the aftermath of the storm. He made sure his revenge went unnoticed by you.

As the minutes turned to hours, Belphie remained steadfast by your side, his touch bringing comfort and a sense of security. The scar on your face became a symbol not of weakness, but of resilience and survival.

In the days that followed, Belphie took on the role of your guardian, ensuring your well-being and protecting you from any lingering threats. His lethargy seemed to dissipate as he became a constant presence, offering a sense of peace and tranquility in the wake of the storm.

～𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

#Obey me #obey me headcanons #x reader #Belphie #Lucifer #Satan #Levi #Asmo #Beel #Mammon #Protect me too #please!!!!

[elenavr13]

Darkiplier/Damien Playlist (Updated)

172 songs

Evermore- Dan Stevens

Everybody Wants To Tule the World- Lorde

Control- Halsey

Gasoline- Halsey

Dynasty- MIIA

Judas- Lady Gaga

Take Me To Church- Hozier

Castle- Halsey

Sing To Me- MISSIO

Kamikazee- MISSIO

Panic Room- Au/Ra

Isolate- Sub Urban

Elastic Heart (Rock Cover)- Written by Wolves

Crossfire- Stephen

Dead!- My Chemical Romance

Stressed Out- Twenty One Pilots

Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift

Smooth Criminal- Michael Jackson

The Voice of Darkiplier- Markiplier

I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

Do I Wanna Know- Arctic Monkeys

In His Eyes- Jekyll & Hyde (musical)

Can You Feel My Heart- Bring Me to the Horizon

Feeling Good- Michael Buble

Can You Feel My Heart x Favorite Dress (slowed)- Miro remix

My Demons- Starset

Achilles Come Down- Gang of Youth

Monster- Skillet

What’s the Use of Feeling Blue- Caleb Hyles

Where I Want to Be- Chess in Concert

Can’t Help Falling In Love- Ice Nine Kills

The American Nightmare- Ice Nine Kills

A Grave Mistake- Ice Nine Kills

Left Behind- DAGames

Farewell II Flesh- Ice Nine Kills

Below the Surface- Griffinilla

The Wrecked and the Worried- NateWantsToBattle

You Can’t Take Me Anywhere- NateWantsToBattle

Goner- Twenty One Pilots

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid- The Offspring

Fake You Out- Twenty One Pilots

Miss You- Corpse

Epoch- The Living Tombstone

In the End- Linkin Park

Me, Myself & Hyde- Ice Nine Kills

The World In My Hands- Ice Nine Kills

Popular Monster- Falling In Reverse

Monster- Imagine Dragons

What I Could Have Been- Sting

Hushh- AViVA

Phantom of the Opera

Darkside- NEONI

Broken- DNMO & Sub Urban

Killer In the Mirror- Set It Off

Doubt- Twenty One Pilots

I’m Not Okay- My Chemical Romance

Friends on the Other Side- Princess and the Frog

Poison- WE ARE THE FURY

Apologize- One Republic

My Lullaby (metal cover)- Jonathan Young

I See Red (slowed)- Everybody Loves an Outlaw

Tear In My Heart- Twenty One Pilots

I Hate Everything About You- Three Days Grace

F.L.Y- Ice Nine Kills

Migraine- Twenty One Pilots

Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots

Demons- MISSIO

Snakes- PVRIS & MIYAVI

Villain- KDA

Royalty- Egzod & Maestro Chives ft. Neoni

The Red Means I Love You- Madds Buckley

Loser- Neoni

Not Ready To Die- Avenged Sevenfold

I Want You- Mitski

Poltergeist- Corpse

Life Waster- Corpse

All Of Me (slowed)- John Legend

Young And Beautiful- Lana Del Rey

Dark Paradise (slowed)- Lana Del Rey

How Villains Are Made- Madalen Duke

Love and War- Fluerie

Dark Things- Adona

Wicked Game- Ursine Vulpine

Neptune- Sleeping At Last

Enemy- Tommee Profitt

Far From Home (The Raven)- Sam Tinnesz

City Of The Dead- Eurielle

Throne- Saint Mesa

Paint it, Black- Ciara cover

Man Or A Monster- Sam Tinnesz

Dark On Me- Starset

Hell’s Comin’ With Me- Poor Mans Poison

Wires- The Neighbourhood

Liquid Smooth- Mitski

Little Dark Age- MGMT

Devil In Disguise- Elvis (LLusion)

Toxic- 2WEI

Dark Room- Foreign Figures & EJ Michels

Heathens- Twenty One Pilots

Dance With The Devil- Breaking Benjamin

Black Out Days- Phantogram

Somewhere Only We Know- Keane

Monsters- Ruelle

Whispers In The Dark- Skillet

Salvaged- NateWantsToBattle

Saint Bernard- Lincoln

F*ck You- Silent Child

I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead- Thomas Borchert, Brandi Burkhardt

Broken Inside- Broken Iris

Sweet Dreams- Besomorph

EVIL- AViVA

Saints- Echos

Screaming Bloody Murder- Sum 41

Dandelions (slowed)- Ruth B

Master Mirror- Ashley Serena

Everyday A Little Death- The Count of Monte Cristo

FREAK- Jordan Friction

Broken (slowed)- lovelytheband

Michelle- Sir Chloe

Like A Villain- BAD OMENS

If It’s Vengeance You Want- Unlike Pluto

Monster- Fight The Fade

Listen Before I Go- Billie Eilish

Mary On a Cross (slowed)- Ghost

R.I.F.P.- MOTHICA

Nervous- Lola Blanc

Unravel- Johnathan Young

Lost In Paradise- Evanescence

Lies- Evanescence

Haunted- Laura Les

Dread- Unlike Pluto

Monsters- Shinedown

Black Soul- Shinedown

Sorrow- Sleeping At Last

Seeing Red- Saint Chaos

Villain- Bella Poarch

Lithium- Nirvana

Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana

Down With The Sickness- Disturbed

Animal I Have Become- Three Day Grace

Greed- Godsmack

One of Us is the Killer- The Dillinger Escape Plan

All The King’s Horses- Karmina

Gilded Lily- Cults

Haunted & Unwanted- NateWantsToBattle

Symbol of My Regret- NateWantsToBattle

In My Head- NateWantsToBattle

Vendetta- Unsecret & Krigare

Nothing To Me- NateWantsToBattle

Chasing Cars- Sleeping At Last

Villain- MISSIO

Used to the Darkness- Des Rocs

Unforgiven- Ghost Nation

Monster- Starset

Eight- Sleeping At Last

Already Gone- Sleeping At Last

Devilish- The Phantoms

Motherland- Reach

Falling Away From Me- Korn

Just a Man- Jorge Rivera-Herrans & EPIC Ensemble

Something Wicked- Starset

Darkness in Me- Fight The Fade

I Would Die for You- In This Moment

Eye For An Eye- Rina Sawayama

Psycho in my Head- Skillet

Done With Everything- Line So Thin

Monster- Besomorph

Twisted Games- Night Panda, Krigarè

Killer Inside of Me- Willyecho

King For A Day- Pierce The Veil ft. Kellin Quinn

someone i’m not- Layto

#markiplier #youtuber ego #darkiplier #a heist with markiplier #ahwm #ahwm darkiplier #darkiplier x y/n #darkiplier x da #markiplier damien #damien x da #damien the mayor #who killed markiplier #wkm #wkm darkiplier #wkm damien #character playlist

[demonic-dorito]

I know some people say that at the end of DA2, Justice becomes Vengeance and while that’s not true given vengeance demons aren’t a thing, I think spirits of Justice would rarely become vengeance demons.

Spirits don’t have particular demons they always become. In Inquisition, Solas says spirits are purpose, and demons are purpose perverted. I think the demon a spirit becomes is dependent on the situation that causes them to become demons. A spirit of Love can easily become Desire or Hunger or Rage (hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, anybody?), for example.

In DA2, Anders says he feels he somehow corrupted Justice because Anders was too angry… but that doesn’t make sense? A key aspect of Justice (as a concept) in general is anger- Justice exists with a righteous fury. I think rage is too naturally a part of the concept of justice for spirits of justice to become demons of rage.

My theory: spirits of justice become either pride demons or despair demons. Pride demons are the most obvious, imo. A large part of the philosophical discussion of justice is who has the right to enact it. If someone is in a position of power, they can feel they have a right to enact justice on whoever they deem unjust regardless of mercy or compassion. With that, a danger of justice is dogma. There is no room for deeper understanding or compassion with dogmatic beliefs because dogma is always incontrovertible. Even questioning it instead of accepting it blindly with the upmost faith challenges it. Think of how Meredith perceives her position and actions.

Now, that is justice when given to people who already have authority- what does justice look like to those who are oppressed? Anders is a good case study as to why spirits of justice would often default to despair imho. Circles are obviously unjust and Anders dedicates his life to fighting it. But even with Anders constantly helping with the Mage Underground and writing manifestos, what can Anders actually do? Circles have existed in Thedas for millennia, and they are controlled by the Chantry. The Chantry has been propagating anti mage sentiment that entire time- even the Blight is blamed on the mages (mages became the darkspawn when they corrupted the throne of the Maker with their hubris, turning it into the Black City). The closest thing Andrastian has to the devil are mages. Anders can’t kill a few templars and save his people. The oppression of mages is an institution in Thedasian (idk if that’s the right word) society. This is widespread injustice- what can one single man do to dismantle an entire system of oppression? Even with all his work in the Mage Underground, he is still only able to help individual mages. This isn’t liberation- true justice- for his people. And he’s in Kirkwall of all places. Even by Circle standards, Kirkwall is notoriously bad. I don’t think Justice becomes Despair (I don’t think spirits bonded with people can become demons at all), but it is this chronic powerlessness, the entire notion of “no matter how much I do, it will never be enough”, that leads Anders to the chantry explosion. It wasn’t done out of rage or vengeance- it’s a logical conclusion made from desperation after years of trying everything else. The real question is whether or not such a drastic measure is worth it in the end.

Also this is why contrasting him with Fenris as foils isn’t exactly accurate. Fenris is against Danarius while Anders is against an entire system. Fenris can kill one man and be free, while mages are at risk most everywhere they go for their entire lives. Whether or not DA writers knew it, this is likely a fundamental reason Anders is frustrated with Fenris. It’s not until Fenris goes back to Tevinter as the Blue Wraith that I think we can actually compare them.

#sorry if this is all over the place I’m just rambling on my phone rn #Anders was right #Anders #dragon age #da2 #da analysis #my post #fade talk #Fenris #Fenris and Anders

[zazasthingsfoundcoolornice]

*Y/n dies in a game with ships*

Cedric : This ship is no longer a ship of love, it's a ship of vengeance, a gavel of justice against all that is wrong in the world, showing no mercy, as no mercy was shown to us.

Cedric : The spark of love will now fuel the fires of destructive glory as I wage my war across the world with righteous fury.

Sofia: Legend has it that Y/n still haunts the ship, stealing my fucking drinks.

Y/n : Of course I do.

::::

Sofia: We all have our demons.

Cedric , grabbing Y/n : This one’s mine!

:::

Y/n : Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life.

Sofia: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Y/n : Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Cedric : Edible.

:::

Y/n : Coca Cola can remove rust from metal, imagine what it’s doing to your body.

Sofia: Pfff, getting rid of the rust, idiot.

Y/n : THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS!

Cedric : Hmm... I've been drinking soda and my body's rust free... not sure where you're getting your facts from...

:::

Y/n : Hey Cedric , do you have any hobbies?

Cedric : Swimming..

Y/n : Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-

Cedric : In a pool of self hatred and regret.

:::

Cedric : *standing on a balcony and sneezes*

Y/n : *standing on the roof* Bless you.

Cedric : God?!

:::

Y/n : So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Cedric and not do the thing,

Y/n : Well there’s a clear right answer here.

Y/n : *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

:::

Y/n : Are you ready to commit?

Cedric : Like, a crime or a relationship?

:::

Y/n : *slams down an absolute doorstopper of a tome* I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading.

Cedric : This is light?!

:::

Y/n : I regret nothing!!!

Cedric : I regret everything!!!

#incorrect quotes #sofia the fandom #cedric sofia the first #cedric the sorcerer x reader

[sleepystawbie]

You’re Alive

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/John “Soap” MacTavish

Rating: Explicit

Tags: 09 Ghoap, Ghost lives, trans Simon “Ghost” Riley*, life affirming sex, semi-public sex, smutty drabble, plotless, just for kicks, written fast and put away wet

Something I wrote while possessed by a horny demon over on discord to my beloved @echo-arctrooper, cleaned up and posted here for shits and giggles. Hope you like it 💛♥️💛

*words to describe Ghost’s junk: hole, tender spot, inside/s

They got the warning just in time ‘Don’t trust Shepherd’ - he and Roach were out of there like a shot. Picked their way back to the remnants of TF141, found his captain the love of his afterlife alive but swearing up a storm.

Dragged the bigger man by the bitch strap off into a corner and slammed their faces together hard enough to crack a tooth.

“You’re alive.” Soap whines between kisses.

“Fuck me!” Ghost demands, clawing at his scorched equipment.

Soap hauls Ghost up by the hips, feels a beautiful weight settle around his own, and resolves to maul his boy until the last of the fear is gone.

“You’re alive.” Soap pulls Ghost’s trousers down, struggles because there’s no way he’s letting the man go to do it.

“You’re alive.” Soap wrestles his cock out his jeans, pumps himself once, rips at Ghost’s underwear.

“You’re alive.” Soap shoves himself deep inside Ghost’s body, feels his warmth clench hard around him, works his hips so he’s fucking hard and deep.

“Alive.” Ghost gasps, whines high in Soap’s ear, “I’m alive. You’re alive.”

Neither of them are interested in taking their time, it’s a rush to cum, Soap works a hand between their bodies and rubs at Ghost’s tender spot until he cries out and clenches hard enough to bully Soap’s cum right out his balls and into Ghost’s hole.

“We’re alive.” John pants, kisses Simon’s neck, breathes the comforting smell of gunpowder and sweat on his lovers hot skin.

They would need to get back out there, to come up with some kind of plan, go rain down vengeance and righteous fury until it was over. For now, John groaned into a sweat and breath slickened neck, worked to keep his flagging cock tucked up inside to feel the last jolts of Simon’s orgasm, and finally breathed deeply once again.

Do not repost, feed to ai, claim ownership of, or expect a follow up to.

#💤🍓writes #strawbin’ #ghoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #fanfic #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghost soap #09 soapghost #09 ghost #09 soap

[bonefall]

tbh it makes no sense that mapleshade would ally with tigerstar considering the way he canonically wanted to murder stormpaw and featherpaw for being halfclan kits…you’d think she’d want to beat his ass for pulling that shit

Honestly I feel like Mapleshade's motivations as they follow through the books always feel wonky. She doesn't feel like a character with a consistent narrative, her personality and actions seem to wobble all over the place.

Unfortunately the most consistent trait about her, across multiple books, is that she is a Girl Villain. She makes a lot of comments about her looks, motherly pain, and romance. Her strengths are also not established, she's an active general-type in OotS, a bloodline curse in Crookedstar's Promise, a satan-like bad influence in Tigerclaw's Fury, and a minion desiring a young molly's pretty body in TBC.

I like the Mapleshade's Vengeance story and characterization of her above all the others, but I do feel like it's not super consistent with ANY of her alliances going forward in the timeline.

Her pain is that she lost her children, so it feels kind of odd she's tormenting Crookedkit. I can accept it as part of her grudge against Appledusk, though.

After all, the idea she's a vengeful spirit haunting his bloodline is super fun as a gimmick. Like she's blinded to the morality of it all at this point, dogged in her goals.

But still, it seems downright unfitting she'd be whispering into Tigerclaw's ear as a demon if that's the case. You'd think she would only start to get close when she realizes Tiger can be used to torment an Applekin (which storm and feather are through their mother's side) directly, not playing the long game.

Plus, mixed blood was the reason her kittens died. With the backstory they gave her, you'd think it would set her off more. Even if they are Applekin.

But a lot of the time they don't seem to know what to do with her. Like when she attacked Sandstorm, of all people, for having a husband. Felt absolutely random.

#mapleshade #warrior cats analysis

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 16: "Don't go where I can't follow"

Continuation of Day 10

Read it on Ao3

- Time, Twilight & Warriors

- Summary: The Chain attempts to rescue Time from the Lost Woods before it's too late

CW for mild body horror, blood and injury

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

The battle against the Shadow is a long one. Warriors would be lying if he said he was surprised. The monster is more powerful than ever (likely because of all the life force he drained from the rancher, he thinks bitterly) and stubborn to boot. He is not one to go down easily. 

But even the mightiest of evils can fall. Especially when faced with a group of furious heroes. Now he sits before them, bloodied and bound, still grinning as though the tip of the Master Sword is not pressed against his neck.

“Where’s Time?”

His voice is firm and almost devoid of the anger burning within. Warriors supposes years in the military have done him a favor in that respect. 

“Tell us now or that blade will be the last thing you see.”

The Shadow’s grin grows wider and his gaze flits to where Twilight stands, pale and weak but practically emanating fury. “Oh, I’ll tell you. Though it will make little difference. He is well beyond saving, now. You took so very long to take me down, after all.”

The rancher steps forward, hands balled into white-knuckled fists. “Where is he?”

The Shadow chuckles. “So impatient. Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?”

Sky presses the sword closer to the monster’s neck. His eyes are ablaze with a fire Warriors knows is always there yet rarely sees.

“Tell us where our friend is,” he says, voice dangerously quiet, like ice about to crack.

“Very well.” The Shadow blows out a long suffering sigh. “Your beloved leader has returned home.”

“To Lon Lon Ranch?” Wind asks, puzzled. But Twilight goes several shades paler.

“The Lost Woods,” he breathes.

The Shadow inclines his head in his direction. “Indeed. You know what happens when an outsider enters those woods, do you not, Hero of Twilight?”

“What?” All eyes turn toward Twilight. Wind’s are as large as saucers. “What happens?”

For a long moment, Twilight doesn’t speak. When he does his voice is nearly as brittle as Sky’s and far more bitter.

“They become stalfos. Skeletal creatures forced to wander the woods forever, bound by their lingering regrets.”

Warriors’ blood runs cold. He whirls back to face the monster, fighting to keep his composure.

“Take us to him, now.”

The Shadow’s smile is borderline demonic. “No.”

“No?” Legend squawks. “What do you mean no? What, can you not even open a simple portal now?”

“I mean just what I said,” the Shadow replies, coolly. “No. I refuse to take you to him. If you wish to speak your parting words to the Hero of Time, you must find your own way to reach him. I would hurry if I were you. He has been there for a few hours now. That is more than enough time for the forest to claim him.”

Twilight makes a choked noise that is half-growl and half-sob. Wild puts a hand on his arm. 

“You do know you’re the one with the sword at your neck, right?” he asks, keeping his gaze on the Shadow. “You don’t really have a choice. You either take us to him or you die.”

“Are those really my only options?” The Shadow pulls his arms out from behind his back, eliciting exclamations of shock and anger from all over the room. He ignores them and lifts his arms with a tired sigh, rubbing at his wrists. “It’s too dull, really, only having two when the world is far more complex than that. Perhaps, next time you will provide me with a more invigorating challenge.”

Sky lunges forward, but the Shadow darts away with ease.

“Too bad that you didn’t win,” he coos, drifting like a smoke cloud on the opposite side of the room. “But you know, many claim that the need for vengeance is a strong motivator. I’m sure you will soon find that to be true.”

They jump for him almost as one. But he fades effortlessly into the shadows, leaving nothing except the echoes of his laughter and the heaviness of dark magic hanging in the air.

For a moment after he is gone, Warriors can only stand there, uncharacteristically paralyzed. Then, Wind’s voice jumpstarts him back into action.

“We’ve got to be able to find him! There has to be a way! Come on guys, think!”

“Yes.” He shakes his head, clearing visions of his little brother wandering like a phantom through the forest he once called home. “Yes, there must be a way. Does anyone have any items that might help us travel through time?”

Besides Time’s ocarina, he thinks, bitterly.

“Better yet, has anyone here conveniently gained the ability to open a portal?” Legend asks, drily.

Slowly, Hyrule steps forward. “Not on my own… But I think I might have an idea.”

Twilight’s eyes light up. “You do?”

Hyrule nods. “I can’t promise that it’ll work. But if Ledge and I work together we may be able to draw on the remains of the Shadow’s magic to reconstruct the portal. It won’t stay open for long though, so you’ll have to get him out fast.”

“How long is not long?” Wild asks, frowning.

Hyrule exchanges a look with Legend. The veteran gives an almost imperceptible nod.

“Ten minutes, at the most.”

Warriors takes a deep breath and blows it out. “That’s all we need.” ----------------

Time doesn’t exist in the Lost Woods. 

There is day and night, of course. But they are the only things differentiating one hour from the next. There are no clocks to read the exact measure of how long you have been doing something. No set times to accomplish one task or another.

It is so very different from Termina. And yet, Time had forgotten. He had forgotten about that characteristic of his home.

Once he had loved it. Now, he abhors it.

It rids him of what little sense of control he still has, draining it away like it steals the air from his lungs, dries the blood in his veins. For the first time in a long time, he has no inkling of how many minutes, or hours, or seconds have passed. And he sags beneath the crushing weight of helplessness.

At first, he forces himself to continue fighting. He still has to save Twilight, after all, and the rest of his boys. He still has to return to Malon. So, he fights the forest with every ounce of strength he has left, until every part of him that is still human is broken and bloodied and his throat is so hoarse from screams of agony that speech is impossible.

He fights until he cannot any longer. 

The forest is strong. That steadfast might once kept him safe from the horrors that awaited him outside. Now, it holds him fast, slowly draining the life from his aching body.

The vines are still around his neck, though their grip has loosened slightly now that he has practically given up. With the way that they have situated themselves, he has little choice but to gaze upward at the clouded sky. In the haze he floats within it is hopelessly blurred, merely a smear of greenish-gold.

Distantly, he wonders if he will still be able to see it at all once he fully belongs to the forest. Will it take his remaining eye too, leaving him to stumble around blindly? Or will it allow him the bitter mercy of being able to see the paths he no longer understands?

A tear rolls down his cheek, leaving a trail of fire. Time closes his eye.

Pain is all he knows now, its wrath unending. He can no longer tell where it begins and where it ends, whether or not it is from his mad struggle or his decomposing body. It doesn’t matter either way. The fact remains the same. This is his fate now, terrible though it may be. He fell right into its clawing clutches. 

He failed. And this time there is no way to turn back the clock. 

Forgive me.

Darkness draws at him, as the vines tighten anew. It tempts him, beckons him forth. But some part of him still yearns to remain awake, just in case some new opportunity decides to present itself. All he needs is for one arm to be free, after all. That is all. 

Yet, that seems as impossible as ever, a foolish thought of one in denial about the approach of his own demise.

Perhaps, he should merely give in to the darkness, allow himself a short rest before he awakens to a nightmare…

“Old man!”

His eye flies open as the familiar voice reaches his ears.

Twilight?

He can hardly see past the nauseating spots of light and darkness, but when the rancher comes to stand before him he can just make out his face, anger and worry and something terribly close to guilt evident upon it.

What would he think, your pup, if he could see you now?

“Pup…you…you shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, I should.” There is something almost ferocious in his voice. “This can’t happen. Not yet. I won’t let it.”

Yet?

He knew something like this was going to come to pass, Time realizes dazedly. But there is hardly time to ponder the thought further. Because Warriors has just stepped from the portal and is standing before him now, his usual mask cracking to reveal the horror beneath.

“Sprite what…what happened?” He rushes forward, already unsheathing his sword. “What did he do to you?”

Time drags in a breath. “Wasn’t him,” he murmurs. “Not really. It was the forest. Forgot me.”

Something flashes across Twilight's face, come and gone too fast to decipher. Beside him, Warriors shakes his head. Though he is obviously struggling to replace the facade of determination and bravado, it is a losing battle. His gaze keeps drifting to Time’s hands, face going paler with each trip.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” he says, voice firm. “Don’t worry.”

Both heroes raise their swords at the same time and bring them down. Time tenses, hope and fear warring within him. There is a thunk as the metal meets plant material and sends them to the ground. Seconds later, more spring up, tightening around his arms.

He no longer feels the pain of their constrictive grasp in the places that no longer possess nerves. No, those parts have an entirely different sort of agony, the burn as though unnatural flames still lick at him. But Time feels ill anyway.

“They grew back!” 

Warriors turns toward the portal in a whirl of emerald and cobalt blue. “We need more help out here! Hurry!”

Twilight’s face darkens and hardens. He doesn’t wait for the answering calls of the others, or their thundering footsteps. He slices again and again, carving at the vines with a fervor Time has never seen before. But every time he cuts them down, they spring back up, growing quicker and more agile by the moment. And all the while the prickling burn continues to spread.

“Twilight.” It comes out as nothing more than a hoarse croak that sends sharp threads of agony through him. But he has to say it. He won’t let his boys fight the same fruitless battle as him. Especially when the same fate could befall them at any second. “Twilight, it…it’s alright.”

Twilight's head jerks up. He meets Time’s gaze with fiery eyes. But there are tears wavering just behind that steadfast determination. And it breaks Time’s heart.

“This is my fate.” He tries for a smile. He wonders if he can even form one anymore. Is his face already gone, features transformed into the grim glare of all stalfos? “There is no stopping it. Leave now while you still can. It is not your time.”

Twilight chokes on a sob. The tears he had been restraining begin to roll down his cheeks.

“It’s not yours either,” he grits out. “Don’t you give up yet old man. This isn’t your fate. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Not if any of us have a say in it,” Warriors pipes up. The other heroes are crowded around him now, all with horror in their eyes and determination etched across their faces. “After all, Malon will kill us if we don’t return you safely to her. And I would kinda like to stay alive for the foreseeable future.”

Then flee this place, Time wants to cry, before the forest claims you too.

But the captain is already turning away from him to address Sky.

“The Master Sword should be able to fight the forest magic better than any of our other items. You cut off as many of those things as possible and we’ll pull him free.”

The Skyloftian nods. With firm resolve in his movements, he raises his sword and brings it down in one, smooth, swing.

Everything goes blinding white.

Pain streaks through Time anew, so severe that a strangled scream breaks free before he can stop it. His back arches, hands curling into fists as his body fights of its own accord to escape the reach of this fresh agony. It is the same burn that accompanies the destruction of skin and muscle, only one thousand times worse. It feels as though he has walked right into the furious flames of Din’s fire.

It feels as though he is being torn apart.

“It’s working!” Warriors yells in the voice of a captain leading his men. A voice that leaves no room for the brokenness that tries to seep through it. “Keep going!”

Sky’s next swing is decidedly shakier. “I’m so sorry.”

Time’s only reply is another cry as it comes again, dizzying and nauseating and too strong to struggle against. He isn’t even allowed a second of respite. Once one strike is finished, Sky doesn’t hesitate to drive home another. Wave after wave of inescapable agony washes over him and Time begins to lose himself within it. 

But then someone shouts, “now! Grab him!” and he plummets back into something resembling consciousness. Hands grasp his arms and pull. He can feel the vines snaking along the ground, clawing at his legs and feet even as his brothers drag him away. He tries to scramble up and away from them, but his body is no longer cooperative. 

It doesn’t matter, however. Because before he can even comprehend what is happening they’re through the portal and the Lost Woods are disappearing behind them. 

His supporters slide down to the ground and Time crumples along with them.

“We did it!” Wind exclaims, with a leap of joy. “You’re not skeletony any more!”

He’s right. Time forces his eye open for just long enough to gaze disbelievingly at his trembling hand. It is flesh and blood once more. As if it were never gone in the first place. As if it were all just another nightmare.

“Yeah…we did. You’re safe, Sprite.”

It’s breathed more than spoken. Time drags his attention away from his hand to see Warriors, his face completely vulnerable now, exhaustion and relief dancing in his eyes. When he realizes Time’s gaze is upon him, he sends him a shaky grin.

“And thank Hylia for it. I couldn't have wrangled this many youths on my own.”

Chuckles sound around the room, thick with relief. Time can’t dredge up the strength to reply, but he manages a smile at least.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. 

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” Twilight says, with a watery grin. “I told ya old man, we weren’t gonna just leave you to a terrible fate like that.”

“Of course, not.” Warriors pulls him close and Time lets himself relax against him, just as he did as a small child, curled up beside his big brother. “You’re stuck with us, Sprite, whether you like it or not.”

Time hums and lets his eye slip closed. He can still feel the vines around him and the remnants of the searing agony of his transformation. But for now he can rest, for now he can let himself slip away. 

Because, at last, he is home.

#whumptober 2023 #no.16 #“don't go where i can't follow” #linkeduniverse #fic #blood tw #injury tw #body horror tw #trin writes #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #sorry this one was late! #i wanted to publish it yesterday #but the end just wouldn't cooperate #and i was too tired to keep working on it #hopefully i can get caught up today #i hate being a day behind lol

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Billy batson X Freddy freeman X Reader idea’s

(A/N: you can use these idea’s if you want these are taking place in Shazam fury of the gods)

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x scarlet witch!Reader (Agatha is in this universe and also this is the scene were Wanda absorbed Agatha’s powers and became ‘the scarlet witch’ and got to her full potential.)

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Raven!Reader (Rachel Roth from titans inspired)

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x yandere!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x maleficent!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Harley Quinn!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x venom!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x singer!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Dragon!Reader (Inspired by Siveth from DragonHeart: Vengeance)

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x mute!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x vampire!Reader (inspired by Abigail from Abigail 2024)

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x werewolf!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x zombie!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x ghostface!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x depressed!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x bisexual!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Lesbian!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x bully!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Deadly sin!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Egyptian goddess!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x siren!Resder

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x captain marvel!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x telekinesis!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x mermaid!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x enchantress!Resder

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x cheerleader!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x popstar!Reader ( inspired by ashnikko )

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x calypso’s sister!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x Ahmanet!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x sapphire witch!Reader ( scarlet witch but dark blue powers )

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x dying!Reader ( instead of Billy dying it was you )

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x half dragon!Reader ( you can turn into a massive dragon and when in human form you have some dragon features )

Billy batson x Freddy freeman X controlled!Reader ( instead of calypso using her powers on Freddy it was you )

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x electrokinesis!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x metalhead! Pyrokinesis!Reader

Billy batson x Freddy freeman x chorokinesis!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X intimidating! Goth!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X Dark!evil!Yandere!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X transgender!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X ghost!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X female ghost Rider!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X Billy Batson X spiderwomen!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X Anthea’s sister!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X hispera’s sister!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X Succubus!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X demon!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X amythist witch!Reader (scarlet witch powers but dark purple)

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X emerald witch!Reader (Scarlet witch powers but green)

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman x murderer!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X Darkness witch!Reader (Scarlet witch powers but black)

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X blind!Reader (Inspired by toph maifong form avatar: the last airbender)

Billy Batson X Freddy Freeman x Maleficent!Reader (Maleficent but dark blue powers not green)

Billy Batson X Freddy freeman X celebrity!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy Freeman X Daki!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy Freeman X Ghostface!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy Freeman X Na’vi!Reader

Billy Batson X Freddy Freeman X Cruella!Reader (inspired by 2021 Cruella)

Billy Batson X Freddy Freeman X Jennifer Check!Reader

#shazam #shazam fury of the gods #y/n #x reader #y/n au #freddy freeman #billy batson #idea’s #y/n au’s #freddy freeman x reader #Billy batson x reader #asher angel #jack dylan grazer #vampire!reader (inspired by vampire!sammy from abigail 2024)

[honoka-marierose]

SUMMARY

▪️Sega Genesis delivered vibrant graphics and memorable games, including the action-packed Revenge of Shinobi in 1989.

▪️Featuring ninjas, cyborgs, and demons, Shinobi showcased the Genesis power with challenging gameplay and iconic characters.

▪️ Unauthorized appearances of Spider-Man, Batman, Rambo, Terminator, and Godzilla added unexpected fun to Shinobi , with revisions later made.

When it came to bringing hard-hitting arcade action to players' homes in the 80s, few consoles delivered the way the Sega Genesis did. With 16 bits of power displaying vibrant graphics, bass-boosted music courtesy of the Yamaha YM2612 sound chip, and an impressive library of games, the Genesis was a gaming force to be reckoned with. Not only did the Genesis deliver tons of licensed games straight into players' hands, but it also brought many of Sega’s own arcade hits home, too. From Golden Axe to Streets of Rage, Sonic the Hedgehog to Altered Beast, the Sega Genesis was simply stacked with blockbuster hits.

Chief among these series was Shinobi, a series of action platformers that helped define the Genesis as an action game powerhouse. Ninjas, cyborgs, demons, and more exploded off screens, demanding zenlike skills to master and survive. So, when players got hold of 1989’s The Revenge of Shinobi, a direct sequel to the original 1987 arcade title, it seemed like a dream come true when they discovered that Marvel’s Spider-Man and DC’s Batman were included in the game, as well. The problem with that, however, was that they (among other licensed characters) weren’t supposed to be in the game at all and were, in fact, very much unauthorized in their appearances.

Sega's Shinobi Is Classic Arcade Ninja Action From Beginning To End

Every Game in the Shinobi Series:

Title: Shinobi

Platform: Arcade

Year Release: 1983

Title: The Revenge of Shinobi

Platform: Genesis

Year Release: 1989

Title: Shadow Dancer: The Secret of Shinobi

Platform: Arcade/Genesis

Year Release: 1989

Title: The Cyber Shinobi

Platform: Master System

Year Release: 1990

Title: The G. G. Shinobi

Platform: Game Gear

Year Release: 1991

Title: The G. G. Shinobi II: The Silent Fury

Platform: Game Gear

Year Release: 1992

Title: Shinobi III: Return of the Master Ninja

Platform: Genesis

Year Release: 1993

Title: Shinobi Legions

Platform: Sega Saturn

Year Release: 1995

Title: Shinobi

Platform: PS2

Year Release: 2002

Title: Nightshade

Platform: PS2

Year Release: 2003

Title: Shinobi 3D

Platform: 3DS

Year Release: 2011

Sega’s Shinobi is one of the company’s longest-running and most beloved series of all time. Debuting in 1987, the very first Shinobi game was an arcade-only adventure that put players in the shoes of Joe Musashi, a ninja dedicated to defeating the evil Zeed organization. Blending precision platforming with plenty of action, Shinobi was a tremendously challenging but incredibly popular hit. Two years later, Shinobi received two different sequels, 1989’s Shadow Dancer: The Secret of Shinobi and The Revenge of Shinobi. While Shadow Dancer starred an enigmatic unnamed ninja and his faithful canine companion, The Revenge of Shinobi served as a direct sequel to the original arcade game.

Joe Mushashi took up his blade once again to battle the evil Zeed organization, now known as Neo Zeed. To make matters worse, Neo Zeed kidnapped Joe’s bride, Naoko. Fueled by the lethal combination of duty and vengeance, Joe embarked on a truly harrowing quest to save the world and his bride. The Revenge of Shinobi is often considered to be one of the best action titles on the Genesis and for good reason.

Armed with kunai and devastatingly powerful Ninjutsu spells, Joe battled his way through multiple cities across the world, military bases, and Neo Zeed’s mazelike base. With stellar graphics and gameplay, plus an unforgettable soundtrack thanks to the legendary Yuzo Koshiro, The Revenge of Shinobi still stands as a Genesis classic. With such a stacked legacy to its name and an immense pedigree behind it, it only becomes even stranger to see the likes of Spider-Man and Batman randomly appear in the game.

Marvel's Spider-Man And DC's Batman Make Prominent, But Completely Unofficial Appearances

Despite being two of the most famous superheroes of all time, Spider-Man and Batman do not occur as heroes in The Revenge of Shinobi. Instead, the two heroes are actually enemies that Joe Musashi must battle. Specifically, Spider-Man and Batman can be found as the bosses for the sixth level, Chinatown. The battle begins with Spider-Man crawling across the ceiling, shooting webs at Joe. When enough damage is dealt to Spider-Man, he transforms into Batman, who proceeds to fly around and swoop at Joe.

On one hand, it’s an incredibly cool moment to randomly discover the two superheroes in the very last place anyone would expect to see them. On the other hand, it’s a moment that raises the massive question of why the two heroes made their random appearance in a Shinobi game of all places. The answer, very simply, was a lack of communication.

The director of The Revenge of Shinobi, Noriyoshi Ohba, designed the Genesis game to be the ultimate showcase of the console’s hardware capabilities. During development, he sketched a number of enemies he wanted to incorporate into the game. When he handed them to the game’s character designer, Ohba thought his sketches would be modified enough that his obvious depictions of Spider-Man and Batman would be altered. Unfortunately, they weren’t, and the two famous superheroes found themselves thrust into the world of Shinobi. The inclusion of these characters wasn’t intended to be a brazen act of copyright infringement or laziness, but simply due to a little miscommunication between developers. Ultimately, their presence made an already fantastic game even more memorable.

As If Spider-Man And Batman Weren't Enough, Rambo, The Terminator, And Even Godzilla Make Cameo's As Well

Now, as if seeing Spider-Man and Batman in the game wasn’t cool enough, fans were treated to three more completely random licensed characters in The Revenge of Shinobi. The first of these surprise characters can be found in the third level, The Military Base. As Joe battles his way through waves of fierce armed resistance, he encounters an enemy that looks remarkably similar to a popular 80s action hero. With dark military pants, a black tank top, and an iconic red bandanna, Joe found himself face-to-face with Sylvester Stallone’s classic character, John Rambo.

The next character players must battle against is the boss of the fourth level, Detroit. A sinister humanoid robot attacks Joe, a robot that looks incredibly similar to Arnold Schwarzenegger's terrifying future assassin, the Terminator. As 1984's The Terminator and 1985’s Rambo: First Blood Part 2 were cultural phenomenons upon their release, it's easy to see why Ohba would quickly sketch characters that so closely resembled the action stars. But it's the final cameo that is the most obvious and one that is impossible to miss. The seventh and penultimate level in the game, New York, places Joe atop multiple boats.

After battling his way into the Neo Zeed container ship, Joe comes face to face with none other than the mighty kaiju himself, Godzilla. There is absolutely no way any player can miss the reference as to who and what Godzilla is in the game. As the end-stage boss, Godzilla attacks with his iconic breath (though it's flames and not his usual radioactive breath). Why and how Neo Zeed managed to capture and sneak Godzilla onto a container ship will always remain a mystery, but it definitely serves as one of the most memorable moments in the entire game.

The Revenge Of Shinobi's Licensed Cameos Could Never Happen Today But Are Still Really Cool And Memorable Accidents

As none of the special cameo characters were ever meant to actually be in The Revenge of Shinobi, four more versions of the game were released to rectify the accidental inclusions. In 1989, Software Revision 1.00 was released that altered enemy colors and specifically explained that Spider-Man and Batman were actually an enemy known as “Metamorpher.” Software Revision 1.01, also in 1989, officially includes Spider-Man in the game, though Batman becomes a generic winged demon monster with Rambo losing his hair, as well. 1990’s Software Revision 1.02 added a new copyright screen to include the license for Spider-Man. 1990’s Software Revision 1.03 changes Godzilla into a giant skeletal robot dinosaur.

2009 and 2012’s Software Revision 1.04 removed the license for Spider-Man and instead dressed him in a pink palette swap. This final revision also alters Joe’s face on the title screen to no longer resemble the actor Sonny Chiba from his role in the TV show Shadow Warriors. Nowadays, it would be impossible for such accidental character inclusions to ever happen in a video game. The legal fallout alone is a deterrent of the highest order to ensure that these kinds of mistakes don’t happen. And if they do happen, a single patch is all that’s needed to rectify the issue instantly and permanently.

Even though multiple reworked versions of the game were subsequently released, there are still physical copies of The Revenge of Shinobi that have the original unaltered characters. The Shinobi series is still alive today with a brand-new entry announced by Sega in the works. Fans shouldn’t hold their breath at the possibility of seeing Joe Musashi fight Godzilla or Batman again, but it’s amazing that one of Sega’s OG arcade franchises is still going strong. For Sega fans who have never played Shinobi before, tracking down a copy of Revenge of Shinobi is a must (even if Spider-Man and Batman might not be in it.)

#marvel #marvel comics #spider man #marvel spiderman #dc #dc comics #dc batman #shinobi #sega shinobi #sega #cameo #comics #games