#because no human presence or merciful god will be around to stop me

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

my birthday is on the 25th and none of my friends or siblings are going to be around-- shoes shoes shoes standing at all the doors and in your ears the roar of loneliness or whatever

#im so luzhincoded fr #based jokerkin birthday party (me dancing in my room alone) #oh actually i COULD do a cursed luzhin defence/joker 2019 double feature #because no human presence or merciful god will be around to stop me #surely i will detect many great cinematic parallels #also im turning 25 on the 25th!!! its special damn it!! im the most specialest birthday boy in the whole wide world #(in like a week)

[feyhunter78]

Healer's Flight

Description: Your would-be assassin picked the wrong beach to ambush you on.

Reader is an immortal mutant with healing powers.

It’s a beautiful beach, one with pristine sands, and cool breezes, the scent of sea salt on the air, and clear waters reflecting the stars that dotted the night sky. You loved this beach, held its location safe within your chest, nestled beside your heart.

Loved, past tense, because now you were afraid, feet digging into the sand as you ran, heart pounding against your chest like a war drum. You veered towards the water, one foot landing in the surf, your heart taking flight, but then he caught you, yanking you back by your hair.

“I said, stop fucking running.” He growled, his grip on your hair tight, pulling at your scalp, as his arms wrapped around you.

“Let me go, you Nazi bitch.” You fought against him, trying to break free of his hold, but it was useless. This wasn’t a normal low-level assassin, this was an enhanced.

His grip tightened on you, squeezing like a vice grip, and you felt your lungs began to stutter, unable to draw in oxygen.

Tears began to roll down your face, dripping onto his bare arm.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He cooed mockingly.

“You’re a monster.” You choked out, nails clawing at his skin.

“Me? I’m not the mutant freak. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”

You weren’t a threat to humans, you were a healer, all you did was lie low and try to help those who needed it. That’s all you had been doing for five hundred years.

“K’uk’ulkan.” You whimpered out, as your vision began to fade, hoping the gods would take mercy on you, and allow you a final vision of him before you died.

“Kool-la-what? Are you casting a spell on me, witch?” The assassin snarled, releasing his grip ever so slightly.

Your hand was free, and you gripped his arm, focusing on the spot where your skin connected.

He swore and dropped you, holding his arm close to his chest. There in the shape of your hand was decaying flesh, black and rotted.

You struggled to your knees, desperately sucking in air as your lungs seized. “Yes, I am.”

You weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

The assassin lunged at you, and you threw your body to the side, landing in the surf, hands glowing a bright gold.

You pushed the hair out of your face, tense and waiting for his next move, when you heard something whiz by you, then a solid thud. You looked up to see the assassin lying on his back, a spear imbedded in his chest.

Large warm hands pulled you to your feet. “In yakunaj, are you hurt?”

K’uk’ulkan’s low voice was a balm to your panicked mind, and your fingers found purchase in the bejeweled collar he wore, as you collapsed against him.

He scooped you up and brought you further onto the beach, settling on the sand with you in his lap. His hands smoothed back your wet hair, his eyes searching your face.

“I—my throat.” You coughed out, motioning to the mottled bruising that you were sure was already starting to appear.

He gently tilted your head up and hummed in displeasure. “He dared to put his hands upon you? I will throw his body to the sharks; I swear to you in reina.”

“They will fade, do not fret, my love.” You soothed, leaning into his touch.

K’uk’ulkan’s presence made you feel safe, as if no harm could befall you while he remained at your side.

“You are done with the surface world, they do not deserve you, and this has proved it.” He said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the corpse behind you.

“But there are people that need me.” You protested weakly, lightly running your fingers across your throat, speeding up your already enhanced healing ability.

He cupped your face, his warm brown eyes like amber flecked with gold, filled with sorrow. “They do not need you more than I do in yakunaj. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me.”

You melted under his gaze, the fight draining from your body, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “But who am I if not a healer?”

“You will still be a healer, my people injure themselves often, they are like children, stumbling over every loose stone in their path.” He gave you a weary smile along with his promise.

You smiled back at him, carding your fingers through his thick hair. “That is not true, your people are fearsome warriors.”

K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against yours. “What can I do to make you come home, and to stay? What must I give you to have my queen by my side?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in his warmth. It had been four hundred years of this, back and forth, stay or go, rule, or heal. You loved K’uk’ulkan more than anyone, anything, but you’d never been able to pry yourself from the grip of the surface world.

“You cannot buy my heart, you already have it.” You said, taking one of his hands and pressing it to your heart.

“But I do not. It sits in the hands of the surface dwellers, who crush it into a fine powder day after day, while I am helpless to watch.” His fingers curled, finding purchase in the fabric of your shirt, a desperate, pleading grasp.

“K’uk’ulkan…” You breathed, heartbreaking at the anguish in his voice.

“Y/N, you must return with me, if only so that I do not die of worry.” He pulled away and motioned to the corpse. “Look at what has happened, what if I had not been here—in yakunaj, you could have died.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were terrified, closer to death than you’d been in a long time. Maybe he was right, you could go with him, take care of his people, then return to the surface in a century or two and check on them.

“I will do it.” You said, closing your eyes, so he couldn’t see the tears of guilt welling up in them. How could you do this? Abandon all those who needed your help?

His thumbs wiped away the stray tears, and he brushed his lips across your forehead. “You will be happy there in reina, have faith in me.”

You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. “I do, but…”

He shook his head. “No, but, do not let your mind run rampant as it tends to do. You owe the surface world nothing.” His voice was steady, as he leaned down and captured your lips, the warmth of him soothing your worries, and making your head pleasantly fuzzy.

You looped your arms around his neck, head tilting to the side, to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coconut and sea salt, his skilled tongue stroking yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

He kept you pressed against him as he stood, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked into the surf, intent on keeping you safe forever.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66

#namor x y/n #namor x reader #namor x you #mcu namor #tenoch huerta namor #namor imagine #namor fanfiction #meg's writing #I started this and wasn't loving it but I think it ended up alright #k’uk’ulkan #k'uk'ulkan x reader #k'uk'ulkan x you #mutant!reader #healer!reader

[luuuuucyscorner]

Can you pls do an angst oneshot where y/n is a very kind religious nun at Briarcliff and she steps in and saves Kit while he is tortured because she believes all humans deserves kindness and respect?

Thanks for requesting another kit angst Anon, poor boy can't catch a break lmfaooo.

catholic school religion classes really coming in strong with this one.

𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲, 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲- 𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Info: Sister Y/n is a nun at Briarcliff and she steps in and saves Kit while he is being disciplined because of her pure beliefs.

Tags: mentions of abuse, blood, alcohol, religion

word count: 4237

Sister Jude takes a step back in annoyance when the door to her office suddenly slams open and a kind, delicate-looking nun walks quickly towards Kit, who is lying helpless and bleeding in his bindings on the chair. "Sister! you must stop this cruelty!" the nun demands. Kit is quite surprised to see what seems to be a gentle nun in this cruel palace filled with so much pain and suffering. He can practically feel the love radiating over him from the nun. "Sister Y/n, you dare interfere with his discipline?" Sister Jude scowls and cracks her thin, unforgiving whip against the cold concrete floor. the tip catches on Sister Y/n's thigh and she cries out in pain. "oh please Sister! Allow me to tend to his wounds!" she begs.

Sister Jude looks at the nun with irritation. "If you wish to take on this patient, so be it. But do not think that just because he is a pretty boy, that he does not deserve to be disciplined for his sins." Sister Y/n carefully approaches Kit, gently brushing his sweaty hair out of his face. She takes a small cloth from her pocket and begins to dab at the blood on his forehead and cheeks. Kit looks up at her with hope in his eyes. The nun begins to gently untie him and remove the chains and shackles, freeing his weak form from the confines of his chair. then, using all her might, she helps him stand up. giving Sister Jude one last thankful look, she turns and leads Kit down the hall into the infirmary, laying him down on a hospital bed.

Sister Y/n begins to softly inspect and survey Kit's injuries. gently picking at his cuts and bruises. She sighs and looks down at him with such warmth in her eyes. "this is going to hurt a little" she says, her voice soft and comforting. He nods and smiles a little, feeling at ease in her presence. Sister Y/n pours some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball and begins to swab around his wounds, prepping for bandages and preventing infection. She continues to work on his wounds, using all her gentleness to apply ointment and wraps. she takes particular care when cleaning around his face, being mindful of his injuries and not applying too much pressure. "why are you being so kind to me? why are you being so different from Sister Jude?" Kit asks weakly.

"That is not a religious woman. Perhaps once she was, but now she is too obsessed with her power, with greed that she forgets that God said "Every living being is deserving of respect and kindness" Sister Y/n says, her voice full of remorse.

"But if a human does something terrible, doesn't that mean they don't deserve kindness or mercy?" Kit asks, softly. "God forgives, he is merciful." Sister Y/n replies softly, not wanting to upset him. "And besides, it's not like you have done anything so terrible that you deserve such a harsh punishment." she says soothingly.

She finishes up with Kit's bandages and opens a small locket cabinet to the right of him. She pulls out a small flask and indicates to Kit to drink. "Vodka, for the pain," she says in a hushed voice.

Kit hesitates for a moment. He isn't usually one to drink, but he supposes that the pain relief could be beneficial. He gently takes the flask and has a small sip. He is surprised at how quickly the warmth spreads throughout his body, dulling the pain and relaxing him. "Thank you," he whispers, handing the flask back to Sister Y/n.

"You are welcome Mr Walker," She says sincerely.

he smiles up at her, grateful for her kindness. "would it be alright if i ask you a question?" he asks quietly.

"of course," she says.

"Are you not afraid that you will be punished for doing this? for going up against Sister Jude?" He asks timidly. Sister Y/n pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before replying. "I do not do this for a reward. I do it because it is right," She says simply. "I have faith in my God, he knows my heart."

"You should rest," she tells him gently, brushing a hand through his hair.

Kit doesn't even realize how fast his eyelids are starting to grow heavy. the vodka was working a little quicker than he expected. He nods his head in sleepy agreement. "Thank you," he murmurs softly as he lets his eyelashes drop, losing the grip of consciousness quickly fading and giving into the promise that sleep holds for him.

Taglist:

#evan peters #james patrick march #ahs hotel #kyle spencer #kai anderson #ahs murder house #tate langdon #american horror story #lucy speaks #fanfiction #angst #smut #kit walker angst #ahs cult #ahs asylum #kit walker smut #kit walker x reader #kit walker x reader angst

[quitealotofsodapop]

Thought: Wukong and Erlang are actually super chill with each other but PRETEND to hate each other around strangers so no one starts asking inconvinuent questions like "Hey, why did you let so many monkeys on FFM go if you were supposed to burn the place to the ground?" And so they end up having conversations like:

Erlang: Seriously? Your successor had the same name as my dog? Dude, that's so funny.

Wukong: I told you, it's not the same, they're spelled different!

Erlang: But they still sound the same.

Wukong: Gods, you're so-

Erlang: Hey, someone's coming, get in character!

Wukong: UNBELIEVABLY PRETENTIOUS! I HATE YOU WITH ALL OF MY BEING!

Erlang: NOT AS MUCH AS I HATE YOU, MONKEY!

Mac: Guys, chill it's just me.

Definitely.

You see... Erlang was a big brother-figure to Wukong when the monkey started working for the stables and later the orchard. But they had a Big falling out because of the celestial war, the ensuing fight on FFM, and the capture that led the Monkey King into the Furnace.

Even with an uncomfortable reunion in Jttw to fight the Nine-Headed Monster - Erlang and SWK's brotherly bond still holds. Wukong knows that his bro wouldn't have burnt FFM unless no other miltary option was available to him; in Wukong's mind it was either the fire on the mountain, or it would have been complete annihilation of his fellow monkey yao from Heaven.

Fun fact: one chinese media theory I read mentioned that Erlang's "mercy" to the monkeys of FFM was likely to warn/evacuate them before the fires were set by Heaven - hence why so many monkeys survived and why Wukong welcomed him with open arms later on.

Even with the following debacle of "The Lotus Lantern" (a tale which Erlang Shen was the antagonist, though not without reason), the demi-god and monkey yao still consider eachother brothers.

The issue in the modern day, especially in the LMK verse? Status in Heaven.

Erlang and his sworn brothers were barely considered mortal mercenaries to the Celestial Realm before the war. Afterwards though? He became a Heavenly General. Outclassing even the Pagoda King in military respect. It was an insane promotion for the demi-god. He's now working directly with his uncle, the Jade Emperor, and is privy to the true cruelty the royals can dish out.

And exactly what the Emperor and Queen Mother think of his brethern.

To reference the most chilling scene in animation history (Prince of Egypt):

Jade Emperor: "Oh my boy... they were only mortal."

Erlang Shen can't risk the world knowing his true thoughts. How much he cares about his wild little brother. How much he actually knows is going on.

Yang Jian doesn't want to lose another sibling.

So yeah, in public the two pretend to hate eachothers guts. Only the Plum Hill boys themselves + Xiaotian Quan actually know that the two meatheads are thick as thieves. It takes Macaque a while to understand why Wukong dares to associate with the man who "burned our home". But a few incidents in the coming years leads Macaque to realise that the all-seeing God is deliberately ignoring some intel that could have spelled disaster for their new family.

Erlang (has the Third Eye): "The Harbringer's presence is still lurking on Earth. You, the Six Eared Macaque have been returned to the world of the living after so long. Not only that, but you and the Monkey King are living in secrecy among demons and humans alike raising a child of unknown powers..."

Macaque: *poised to start fighting*

Erlang: "...It's none of my business either way. Congrats on the baby, and your reunion as well. Bro would not stop talking about you when he was drunk." *leaves a baby-shower gift*

Macaque (has lie-detecting ears): "What the..."

Btw Erlang is def the type of (sworn) uncle to unironically get MK a dog toy as a baby shower gift. ("What? You'll thank me when he starts teething.")

#lmk erlang #erlang shen #sun wukong #lmk hcs #lmk backstory hcs #the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #lmk shadowpeach au #lego monkie kid #lmk #liu er mihou #six eared macaque

[archivus]

MAG[REDACTED] - Dark Down Below

This is episode dedicated to fans of Agnes Montague, the Cult of the Lightless Flame or the People's Church of the Divine Host

Statement of Lisa Yordanka regarding her experience with a strange mattress. Original statement given 22nd of August 1998, recording by Arcturus Walker, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, Budapest. Put to tape on April 2nd 2024. Statement begins:

I know about the entities. And I know that you must know about them as well. The ten lords in the sky beyond controlling our fears, but there's only one to which's power I consented to: the Desolation. I never thought a daughter of The Blackened Earth would be haunted by The Forever Blind. But I guess dark and destruction, flame and ash and coal go hand in hand. I never thought of their faction as the enemy. I thought we had some kind of contract binding us until we rid our area of The Mother of Puppets. Assuming they were the ones that brought it upon me.

I'm a coward. I have been devout to Asag ever since it enlightened me to it all: the human race deserves not what it has. The only one to bring destruction to it all is my God and no one else's. I would sacrifice myself in its name and yet, I haven't. I want to say I just haven't had the chance to, but that'd be a lie. I am afraid to die. Even in light of the powers at my fingertips I cannot bring death upon my shell. Because wouldn't that mean giving myself up to Terminus? Wouldn't that just feed The Coming End That Waits For All? Will I stop lying to myself one day? I can't bring myself to do it. It's that simple.

Until the inevitable end comes when I'll finally unite with the one to light my fire I will put this body to the most use that I can for both IT and the cult. So then, how come The Dark set it's blind gaze upon me? Why did I become their target? I don't even know what it counts, maybe as- as an artefact? A monster that came for me? Did something *posess* my mattress while I was busy fighting for Agnes?

It was a cold night, I remember. I got the chance to be around the chosen one, for a week I was blessed by her presence and I soaked it up, I could feel it in my powers. But the apartment she and Jude shared didn't have a guest bedroom nor a third bed, but luckily someone from the cult had a spare mattress we brought over to accommodate those that wish to see messiah and bathe in her immediate divinity. I was not the first to sleep on it. But I was there at the wrong time.

See, we had a bit of a commotion with our siblings over at the people's church, some started a protest that this joint of powers is a downright sacrilege towards their "Mr. Pitch", that whilst our flame is lightless, the heat it emanates is reminiscent of the thing they hate the most. They argued that our burning is parallel to that of the Sun which they're so desperately trying to blacken and thus we were harmful to their sanctity.

Though we tried to keep Agnes's identity a secret, their most sensitive to the world beyond ours could feel her presence and the gossip carried the word quick and far. So their target was set on our dear messiah's back and that was something I simply I could not let happen. The physical aspect of the fight was lacking to say the least, the darkness works by disorientation not by direct combat, which is what the flame excels at.

Thankfully my blessed abilities include striking a spark into all that's electric and once the churchmen's frosty void surrounded us all I was able to flick all the broken bulbs lying around, those that they ritualistically destroyed into a flashbang for those who still perceived with their eyes. The rest also felt their power dissipate. The destruction of their ego, their fear of eradication almost made me want to get up close and personal with those who were first to open fire but there was no need, for they all turned their backs and my family from the cult urged me to leave them behind. That mercy was undeserved and it hurt.

That evening I had a hard time ridding my system of the pent up adrenaline. I took to some meditation with the members who were still there by the nightfall, but I still struggled to fall asleep. The mattress seemed too wavy and for long long hours I thought it was just my shocked perception playing tricks on my brain. But then I felt something slam into the middle of my spine, a shocking pain piercing through my skin like a round knife. It was like a heavy wooden door shutting, again and again and again. I tried to scream. I see well in the dark, my heat perception is impeccable yet I couldn't find a thing in my vicinity. The room seemed empty and after half a second the darkness seemed to wrap around my neck, flowing down my throat, muffling any sound I made. Then another spring etched into the nape of my neck, with a power that should've sprung my head up but something weighed me down on the needle bed that kept on prying into my body, spring by spring until I lost consciousness.

I don't even have to mention. It was dark. The most pitch black one couldn't see. This one had to be lived by a soul, as I was sure that was all I had now. My, at least what I believe to be my projected- body was glowing. I wasn't floating though. All around me was all encompassing darkness, yes, but I was laying in a swamp of some sort of viscous liquid that barely felt like it was even there. At first at least. I could barely touch it, the texture escaped my fingertips. That was until I felt a bump forming under my back from what, I now felt as a tiny swarm of particles, a dark sentient confetti. Thinking they were about to transport me I relaxed my body. How naive of me. Expecting to meet face to face with one of the gods from beyond? In my right mind I definitely wouldn't have thought myself worthy and I still not am. But I let go to see where the darkness takes me. Nowhere.

All of a sudden I experienced an ache of a thousand suns burrowing under my skin, the wounds were still obviously there from where the springs burst into me, and now they were being pried open once again by the mysterious creatures, bleeding me dry in the dreamscape of their master(s). I was numb. The pain made my brain forget where my muscles were positioned. I wouldn't be surprised if it was because of a spinal cord injury. For a moment it all seemed to cease but right after the calm my whole being began to spasm. I was experiencing a shock, a fit that I can't describe. I wasn't conscious all throughout though, I can tell you that much. After all my muscles startes vibrating uncontrollably, I lost myself.

And then awoke. My head throbbing like a bad hangover, I climbed over to the bathroom. I spare you the details, I was in a rather sorry state. I do not know who cursed me in the church and I do not care to find out. I want them all to pay, to burn among the flames they'll wish so desperately to not see. But my fire will burn through their blackened eyeholes and etch a flash in the deepest corners of the minds of even those that could never see. And I'll leave this statement to you and the ages to come, to note the day those wretched monsters dare lay their closed eyes upon our Agnes.

Statement ends. There are certainly a few interesting details to this statement so I'll go over them in order. First, Lisa only seems to know about 10 of the 15 entities, which may translate to the Cult of The Lightless Flame having the same, limited knowledge. This can be seen by the fact that miss Lisa's powers described here more closely resemble The Extinction's, rather than The Desolation's. It definitely gets me wondering how someone devout could be snatched from their entity's grasp. Maybe the Future Without Us was already within her when she first joined the cult?

Still baffles me how such a new power would dare mess with the subordinates of the burning destruction. Miss Lisa's fear and inability to sacrifice herself may come from The Extinction preventing her from becoming an avatar to the *wrong* entity, or it could just be a manifestation of its powers, just like her wishing death upon the entirety of the human race. I was also unaware that the two most active cults at the time, at least of those serving the entities, held such close ties, even if we just witnessed them getting severed...

Two days after giving this statement the apartment under the name of Lisa Yordanka caught fire, which is assumed to be electrical in nature, her kitchen appliances being the most likely source, and whilst cameras don't show her leaving, no body was found. Per my deductions this means she had completed her transformation into an avatar, though maybe not the one she wished to become. I wonder if the metal from the springs could've helped her body transform, like a crystallization chain reaction. Those born of The Terrible Change seem to enjoy their robotic bodies more than their organic ones, which they often experience as flesh-prisons. *sigh* I hope this fellow avatar finds it freeing as well and not as another bound to something she doesn't even know about. Wonder if she's ever going to figure it out. Recording ends.

Thanks for reading! I love how this turned out and actually written most of it before The Stranger's episode was done 😅. This episode is dedicated to The Dark and you can find the other ones here: The Flesh The Vast The Stranger

#tma #the magnus archive #the magnus archives #Tell me why I forgot to add tags 😭 #tma fanart #tma fanepisode #Tma statement #original writing #writing #tma statements #magredacted #the dark #the desolation #cult of the lightless flame #peoples church of the divine host

[aimportantdragoncollector]

For the ask game, Saiyuki AU where Goku managed to escape his prison on his own but eventually does find Sanzou, please!

I had to go for this one out of order because it's so much fun! Saiyuki, my old fave!

Goku breaks out early because the gods forgot to cast a spell on his prison to prevent him from aging. As a result, he grows vastly more powerful over the centuries. He slips into a trance, absorbing power from the earth. He does not lose his memories but after nearly 500 years of imprisonment, his sanity is shaky.

When Sanzou is born and cast away into the river, Goku detects a distant scent of Konzen Douji and danger. This breaks him out of his trance as he runs to save Konzen. Koumyou Sanzo (Sanzou's canon father figure) finds baby Sanzou first. A custody battle nearly ensues. Fortunately, after a tense stand-off, Koumyou lures Goku with meatbuns. (It’s for the best that they coparent, Goku did not know anything about raising human babies.)

Based on the backstory in Saiyuki Ibun, Koumyou got one of his two sutras from a dead yokai friend. The Maten sutra was traditionally held by a yokai. Koumyou decides that he will train Goku to inherit the sutra so that it will be returned to the yokai again. He will make baby Sanzou/Kouryuu the heir to the Seiten sutra. Everyone thinks that Koumyou is absolutely nuts to want to train Goku to become a priest. That doesn't stop him.

The priests do not know what to make of how gentle Goku is with baby Sanzou. As a young child, Sanzou likes to ride everywhere on Goku's shoulders. Goku becomes much calmer due to exposure to Sanzou's presence.

Years later, Goku's keen nose picks up on scent of Gojyo's blood. Goku tracks it down and finds little Gojyo being abused by his evil stepmom, so he punts her through a wall. (She is not dead but she broke several bones.) Gojyo is not grateful because he's trauma bonded with his abusive parent. Goku runs off while Gojyo screams and throws rocks at him. Koumyou shows up later to smooth everything over and takes both Gojyo and his brother back to the temple to look after them. Gojyo gradually comes to see Goku as his savior after recovering from his trauma.

Goku, returning home with teary eyes: Why does big brother Kenren hate me now? At first I thought he wanted to play fetch but he cried when I brought the rock back. Koumyou: My turn to handle that! Your child-rearing strengths lie in beating up threats. I’m in charge of everything else.

Goku sniffs out Hakkai as a child and adds both him and his sister to his growing collection of orphans. Hakkai grows up better-adjusted now that he has more people to care about besides his sister.

By this point, Goku is a trained priest with his own sutra who goes around solving missions with child Sanzou, Gojyo, and Hakkai in tow. Bad guys tremble in fear of the monster with glowing golden eyes and children crawling all over him. Sanzou likes to sit on Goku's head and bark out orders. He wields a paper fan. Someone tried to take a child hostage once. No one ever tried that again.

The gods did not notice Goku's escape for years because the Merciful Goddess Kanzeon deliberately hid the news. When they find out, they send an army to attack Goku. Since this is a fully grown no limiter Seiten Taisei Goku powered up with a sutra, they get absolutely annihilated. Goku follows them back home and steals Nataku. The gods pretend that they won, pardon Goku, and never go near him again.

When Dr. Ni Jianyi shows up to steal the sutras, he also gets punted through a wall. Goku curbstomps Gyokumen Koushu and prevents the Minus Wave from ever happening. Happy ending.

#5 headcanons game

[nahalism]

the quote you reblogged : That is why mysticism is the only source of virtue for humanity. Because when men do not believe that there is infinite mercy behind the curtain of the world, or when they think that this mercy is in front of the curtain, they become cruel.

Made me want to ask you: Were you or rather are you ever in states where you don’t feel and believe there’s anything more to life? That there is no energy no soul everything is accidental and there is no higher power out there, that everything is meaningless and pointless. No matter what we do or think but it’s maybe easier or even necessary to believe that there’s something more to all of it, to us? Maybe we desperately need that? Maybe it would be impossible for us to function and keep sanity? Or are you unshaken in your beliefs, maybe life proved it to be true enough that you never get those nihilistic waves of everything means nothing

heyy. love the question, quick disclaimer :: ultimately, each person is entitled to their own beliefs. i believe what i believe, and allow others to do the same. also, re: the quotation, i think theres a differentiation between mythology and theology. its less directed toward the existence of a god, and rather pertains to the idea that a world/morality beyond that of the physical tangible realm is at play. if infinite mercy can be extended to people despite their past transgressions, in that, a person can make a mistake, but redeem themselves through their consequent deeds, it alludes to some higher goal to strive for than the base or hedonistic goals that otherwise drive us forward. if people didnt believe they could be better, or make good despite their past actions, being a better person, choosing to evolve, or choosing to self correct, would not only cease to be appealing but cease to be necessary. the fact we believe we can be better, should be better, and that the choice to be better leads to better, is what keeps the balance of good and bad in balance, and what keeps humanity from slipping into complete debauchery.

as for me, i was raised catholic & i didnt relate or buy into what they were teaching me at church. anytime i had a question the answers seemed completely far fetched and unbelievable, and i felt like people were more concerned with the idea of salvation, or the need to believe in something to feel there was an overarching purpose to life, than they were with what i understood to be the core principles of the religion. even the term religion rubbed me up the wrong way because i felt like, isnt it just a personal belief/conviction/way of life, opposed to a faction or group to 'belong' to. people spoke a good game but the enactment of what they spoke about left me wanting.

fast forward. beginning to ask those questions around age 7/8 was the start of my spiritual journey even though i wasnt aware of it at the time. by 10/11 i stopped going to church & was calling myself an atheist or agnostic depending on what my mood was on the day. not because i didnt believe or feel there was something out there, but because it didnt align with any religious views i was privy to at the time. then at 12 i experienced a traumatic incident, and as i started to spend more time alone i was shown certain things and would have very particular experiences / feel the voice of some force out in nature or speaking to me through my conscience. and when that happened i felt (not from the teachings or reasoning of anyone but myself) that that force and feeling i was encountering was my true understanding of god or this thing i knew existed but wasnt entirely sure about how it existed. that pervading presence, its voice and the way its guided me is the only reason i believe in a higher, supreme power.

thats when i began to study life thru the humanities and in doing so form my opinions and ideas on what i believe regarding my views on the world & spirituality. i studied through the lens of the bible, the qu'aran, hindu teachings, buddhist teachings, syncretism, kemetic texts and teachings, new age spirituality, gnosticism & even science. i feel as though all of them have appealed to me and allowed me to grow in knowledge and understanding & that whilst they use different language to explain themselves, they all point toward and explain one truth. however beyond that the point still stands that i just believe. — ive had experiences i cant doubt, and feelings i cant doubt, not that i havent doubted them, or questioned, but each time i did it only confirmed my initial belief and made me believe more strongly. and so yeah, without that fundamental belief, all of it would just be a beautiful story. i could read every text, but if i didnt believe in what i was reading it would be no more than a harry potter type situation. i couldnt be swayed into pretending i believed, not for the idea of heaven, a promised land, or eternal salvation. thats not what i get out of this. my relationship w god saved my life and it keeps rebirthing me, educating me, & moulding me, and in doing so brings new meaning to things id previously read & doubted/didn't understand (think the concept of ressurection). anyway

i know people are religious and believe in god (whatever term or label u wanna give that force) for a variety of reasons. i cant speak for them, because im sure many people do believe for the reasons u stated. my reasons are simply that i feel and believe there is a higher, supreme, overarching force, that is the matrix of the spirit that permeates every living thing. i think theres a design to the world, one too specific to be down to chance. i think life is eternal and that there is a point to the experiences and growth or lack of that we experience in this life. that generationally it has significance and that it will one day account for something bigger than what we can see or comprehend right now. and i feel that when i look into the spirit of another being whether its human animal a tree or fire/water etc, that we all share the same force that ignites and powers our beings. & those are a just a few of the reasons why i believe

<3 hope this answers for u. sending my love

#ask

[lexiklecksi]

Soul assignment

Rewritten for @flashfictionfridayofficial; word count: 797, genre: science-fiction comedy?

Disclaimer: This is just a silly short story about gender identity. It's not intended to make fun of different gender identities, so please read this with a humorous view point and don't yell at me in the comments for writing something stupid. I hope some of you enjoy reading this!

“Soul 1,560,321,493: female body, soul 1,560,321,494: male body, soul 1,560,321,495: female body…” The entity is busy assigning bodies to the souls who are ready to be born. They are doing so by using the binary system of male and female. Us newbies consider this binary assigning system very old-school, but what can you do? Can’t change a running system, you know. But I’ve started my own little rebellion with some fellow critical thinkers.

Their eternal rule is endless and flawless in their opinion. So what can I change? After all, I’m just a small official working in the “soul to body” administrative department. This is my afterlife and I should consider myself lucky for being sent to the in-between. I could have been sent to hell or, even worse, to heaven. They think I should thank them with every moment of my eternal afterlife for the mercy they’ve shown me. Cause let’s be honest: I wasn’t a good guy. I was a sinner just like everyone else. I’ve stopped believing in God a long time ago. You wanna know if God exists, huh? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you: I still don’t know cause I’m not in heaven, I’m in the in-between where the entities have full control. Maybe, if I get lucky and do my job well for long enough, I'll get a second hand soul. A new chance to live life to the fullest, no regrets and no strings attached. But I doubt that the entities will reward me with a second hand soul. After all, I'm not a good candidate and they don't want to waste souls.

“Soul 1,560,321,508: male body …” Their counting disrupts my train of thought. Focus! Focus on your job, man. You’ve still got 100 souls to assign to their respective bodies today. I’m still saying today even though I’m out of the concept of time now. Old behaviours don’t change, I guess. I’m trying to grasp the sheet with all the numbered souls and possible genders with my pure will, how they taught me in my training. I take a look at the sheet. I physically can’t see since I no longer have eyes and this isn’t a sheet of paper, but it’s easier to imagine it is, than to face the new reality of being a bodyless soul, floating around without ever turning into matter. Zero gravity and no surroundings to refer to…. Actually, it’s easier not to think about this at all.

I look at the numbered souls, listed as fresh souls and second hand souls with their respective number. There are two columns next to them: male or female body? I take out my imaginary pencil and draw a new column titled other genders. My former body would grin at this act of silent protest. I start assigning other genders: non-binary, agender, and transgender. I mean, human gender identity is so complicated anyway… They can’t all fit into the binary system. I feel the presence of my supervisor. I’m not used to my new senses yet, but I’m getting better in differentiating presences and “hearing” them speak. “You’ve only assigned 11 souls to their bodies! What is taking you so long? Get faster! You still have 89 souls to assign!”

Quickly, I put a cross in the male or female section for the remaining souls. Hey, don’t think I’ve forgotten my protest just because I’m afraid of losing my job! And by losing my job I mean losing my privilege of spending the afterlife in the in-between. I can’t face my punishment for a life badly lived! I just can’t, okay? So I assign the next 100 souls to male or female bodies, but it’s a boring job. So boring that I get creative and invent new genders: none-gender, supercisgender, trainsgender. It’s so much fun to make up new categories! Aren’t you afraid of the confusion you will cause these to-be-born souls?, you might ask now. No, I’m not worried at all. I’m sure they’ll be fine. My fellow critical thinkers probably wouldn’t agree but I like the thought of a human being having to figure out what the hell a trainsgender is. Come on! You have to admit it’s a bit funny, even though it’s silly.

Though I do hope they will like my choices. But does it really matter what body and gender identity you get assigned before or after birth? It only matters what you make of it. You have a whole life to live! Live it well. Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made, or you might end up in the “soul to body” administrative department or some other place - wait no I mean state - in the in-between. Might as well go to heaven or hell. Rest in peace, losers!

Tag list under the cut. Never miss a poem or a short story I write! Comment + if you want to be added or - to be removed from my tag list.

@matcha-chai @dg-fragments @silversynthesis @heartofmuse @scatteredthoughts2 @rhapsodyinblue80 @alaskaisnothere @stoic-words @september-stardust @wordsforsadpeeps @writingitdown @intothevortex @aubriestar @warriorbookworm @raevenlywrites @alex-a-roman @artsymagee @giantrobocock @theheightofdepression @writing-is-a-martial-art @beautifulimposter25 @a-musingmichelle @rhythmiccreatorofbeuty @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes

#flashfictionfriday #short story #writeblrcafe #writerscreed #writtenconsiderations #poeticstories #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #science fiction comedy

[hydropyro]

"Webs of Fate" Chapter 13

cw: Abdirak and all he entails -- fire play -- worship

AO3

“Now you pair up. Usually, the fire is higher.” Abdirak held out a hand, his fingers splayed open. When Alakvyr accepted his hand, he began to interlace their fingers, but the Pain pulled them apart. Their palms were separated, but their fingers were laced together, joining their arms. “Then you dance around the fire again. When you can no longer stand the heat, you switch hands and go in the opposite direction.” 

It was a bizarre affair, but the tieflings were not judgmental. Abdirak demonstrated with Alakvyr as his partner, holding their hands together, palms down, over the flame as they continued a less athletic version of the previous dance. 

The fire was burning low, so it wasn’t terrible, but Alakvyr quickly felt the burn in his hand, arm, and the side of his body nearest the flame. The human’s eyes were locked on his as they continued, dancing deviously in the firelight. 

“ Gods ,” Alakvyr breathed, hissing from the pain as his clothes began to heat uncomfortably. 

“Just the one,” Abdirak laughed. “I can do this all day, so you let me know when you’re ready to switch.” 

He held on as long as he could, but eventually had to jerk his hand back and out of the Loviatan’s grasp, shaking his arm to try to rid it of the heat. A few of the tieflings cheered and encouraged him along with Abdirak, who was already holding his opposite hand over the fire in wait. 

Alakvyr drew a breath to steady himself before reaching out over the flames to take the Paingiver’s hand. They moved around the fire in the same fashion as before, though in the opposite direction. Alakvyr could not stop his smile from spreading despite the rapidly growing pain. His boots crunched over the glass that the Loviatan had broken onto the ground and now trod over barefoot. 

The human was completely mad -- and yet, in many ways, seemed the most sane of them all. Alakvyr was not able to continue with the fire dance once his left side had screamed for mercy, but the Paingiver did not judge, shame, or try to convince him. Nor did he invite any of the drunk tieflings to participate in the dangerous game. 

The bard continued to play, and the human looked right at ease with a woman in arm, moving in time with the music -- wild hair, marred back, and all. 

The night had blurred out of memory. Alakvyr had continued to drink, and was finally comfortable joining in with the merriment. After helping Abdirak sweep the broken glass into the fire so no one would be injured, the rest of the night -- as far as he could recall -- was spent chatting. 

Having escaped the Hells and then traveled from Elturel, the tieflings were well-accustomed to sleeping wherever they laid their heads. The camp fell quiet as one-by-one the partygoers found sleep. 

Alakvyr did not remember falling asleep and certainly did not know why he had awoken in Abdirak’s tent. He looked himself over quickly and found himself dressed, even his shoes still on, and the Paingiver slept peacefully nearby. The light that shone through the fabric of the tent told the drow that morning had come. 

It was typical for Kelemvorans to pray at night, but Alakvyr had not had the presence of mind to do so before bed. Up to that point, he had done so because Withers had explained that it was expected of him. This morning, maybe due to a hangover, but he thought not; the drow did not feel quite right . 

The thought annoyed him some. He understood the necessity for the devout to pray -- but no one, including Kelemvor -- was under any illusions about Alakvyr’s faith. Perhaps in time he would grow to revere the God of Death and continue to function as his cleric -- but now it was a position he had more-or-less been forced into. 

As much as he appreciated his new lease on life, it felt quite redundant to pray for blessing, favor, and magic from the god he was given life specifically to serve. 

Nevertheless, Alakvyr was not in a position to argue or dwell on the small details; the parasite in his head was large enough of a cause to worry and stress over. 

He slipped out of the tent and stood a moment to stretch before he left the broken shack and found a quiet place near the riverside to kneel. Gale had had a book with some information on the god. He had not admitted to anyone other than the Loviatan that he was not a ‘true cleric’ and was not that knowledgeable on the subject. 

He knew that a shrine was typical, but without the ability to create one here, Alakvyr grasped the symbol sewn onto his shirt and closed his eyes. 

“Kelemvor -- I bow before your glory and offer my gratitude for your guidance and strength. May your strength shelter me -- and those who walk with me -- as you shelter the dead. May you continue to guide me -- and those who walk with me -- as you guide the dead. 

“Please grant me the gifts of your wisdom and blessings -- that I may be your messenger and enact your will today.” 

The sensation was so subtle that he could be convinced that he was imagining it. Alakvyr remained in place -- quiet and eyes closed -- for many moments. 

Of course qualifiers like ‘good’ and ‘evil’ were largely down to the perspective of the reporter -- but in the book he’d read Kelemvor had been described as being just and even kind. Ultimately, the decisions that Alakvyr made were his own. There was much to be said about the propaganda and fear-mongering in his upbringing and the power-hunger that verged on cannibalistic in the culture where he’d been raised -- but Alakvyr was not trying to avoid responsibility. 

As bitter as he found himself at times, neither the God of Death nor Jergal were deserving of his ill-will. Kelemvor had given him an incredible gift -- one not frequently granted by the god who so despised undeath -- and the drow was grateful. 

He couldn’t quite express himself in prayer and hoped that the lenient god would accept his meditations and understand his heart and mind. Once he felt that his mind was clear, Alakvyr stood and turned to go into camp -- nearly trampling over the kneeling Loviatan in the process. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Abdirak said apologetically. “I usually pray here, but I didn’t want to disturb you.” His eyes, which saw too much, were scanning the drow curiously -- but the human didn’t ask any questions that he may have had. 

Alakvyr made a flippant gesture. “It’s fine--” 

“You’re welcome to stay,” the Loviatan murmured. He pulled a thin blade from his robes and began to draw it over his collarbone. 

Without food in his aching stomach, Alakvyr wasn’t sure that he was up to watching, and less so participating in the Loviatan’s ritual. “Thanks for the invitation -- I need to eat -- I’ll get you a portion ready, though.” 

The Loviatan was not bothered. He hummed in affirmation, nodded once, and continued with his morning prayers.

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #Abdirak #abdirak as a companion #alakvyr #webs of fate #fan fiction #chapter 13

[deathmimedream]

Broken memory: Cinque

He lay curled on his side in his sarcophagus, tangled in the scraps and rags he used for blankets, the book he’d fallen asleep reading dropped on the damp stone floor.

He gave a soft groan, tossing and turning as much as he could, since he was literally sleeping in a cold, dirty, stone coffin.

His eyes darted around under his lids, sweat beading his brow.

Did the dead dream?

Apparently so.

Usually of old memories.

Cinque had lost most of his, but it was impossible to tell how welcome or loathed any of them were.

This was one of his strongest.

He stood in an old, dirty town square, atop a small platform piled in oil-soaked tinder at the center.

He was stripped of his armor, his weapons, bound to the stake at his back with tight, heavy rope, wearing little more than his gambeson, undershirt, boots, and trews.

His sable hair had long since escaped the silk ribbon tying it back,floating free on the wind and his paints were horribly smudged.

But not from tears.

These foolish people with their closed-minded beliefs and prejudices didn’t deserve to see his tears, hear him pleading or screaming mercy from a God he did not worship.

They had captured him with his small band of followers, but most of them had successfully escaped. He, and a few others had been caught, tortured then executed in the hopes of getting them to confess and repent.

Cinque was wholly unrepentant.

The peasants and commoners stood at the base of the bonfire, gawking at the first unholy knight of Satan before them. Nobles sat to the side on a raised, covered platform, making a spectacle of his execution.

A Roman Catholic priest stood at the foot of the pyre, holding a long staff with a cross, holding it up towards Cinque in a final attempt to get the unholy pope to confess, kiss the icon, and convert for a chance at a merciful death.

“I will not ask a God that does not love me for mercy, padre. He will not listen to Lucifer’s chosen no matter what he has to say. He stopped listening to his children a long time ago.”

The staff was pulled away and the crowd shouted for his death, slinging slurs and insults at him from below.

A few also slung stones, sticks, and curses. They did not reach him.

The town’s guard lit the wood, black, foul, acrid smoke rising from it.

Cinque looked down at it, as the fire caught the wood, heat and flames and smoke rising.

He did not look to heaven, as others had.

He did not pray forgiveness from the God that was not his.

He did not curse the humans who had chosen to kill another innocent man because of who he chose to worship.

He looked upon them with pity, as the flames and smoke grew thicker, that they would never know true freedom.

He did not scream, as his clothing caught fire, not even a wince.

He did cough somewhat on the oily smoke, eyes sad as he looked out to the mob around him, seeing only a sea of hatred for him and his flock.

He knew this would hurt, but he had to hold faith.

His lips moved as if in a prayer, but what he said was swallowed by the pop and crackle of fire.

The flames licked higher, and the horrible smell of burning hair filled his nostrils, and he grimaced in distaste of it, the first few shreds of pain from the heat settling in.

At first it was simply heat, his body numb and questioning the damage being done.

Then the itch of pain spreading over him slowly, until the searing feeling spread, just for a few moments, and then there was nothing.

His Infernal eye glowed brighter than the flames, he felt the ropes burn through, as his dry, cracked lips kept reciting the spell and prayers that kept him from burning to death.

Barely, at that.

He fought to keep his breathing steady, the spell could not be interrupted or it would fail, and he would die.

Behind his words, he felt a soothing presence, as if someone or something wrapped him in an invisible embrace, shielding him beyond his spell.

He chose to not leap from the pyre, but to carefully climb down.

His hair and clothing were still smoldering, skin slightly burnt, but nothing permanent.

He turned, standing to face the crowd, who were all staring at him, dumbstruck. A few were whispering of miracles, of God saving the infernal pope in the end.

“Your God does not save you from the fire. He does not care. He does not listen. He plays favorites, and when he tires of them he hands them back to you, and you torture and burn them for being different. You fool yourselves into believing you are righteous and faithful and pure for it, but really, you’re all just murderous fools.”

He walked towards them, and they parted away, watching, silent as he made his way through the crowd.

A few made the signs of the cross, others knelt, kissing the burnt edges of his clothing as if he were a saint. More stood in shocked silence.

“Not a one of you here, is free of sin. Not even your precious clergy. You kill, and kill, and destroy in the name of your faith. You tear each other to threads for a chance to be better, a chance to see heaven.”

They were all listening, this small town of people, to the antipope, fifth of his bloodline, and his Lucifer-blessed tongue.

“My God only wants you to love one another, to live in harmony with and to embrace your differences, to consent to your choices and celebrate your diversity. “

He looked at everyone, as he finally crossed the square, standing before their church.

“ Yes, my people and myself have killed, but not in the name of Lucifer. We have killed to survive, and protect that which we love and hold dear. As would anyone, if their lives or lives were threatened. “

He turned, face serene, hands held as if in prayer.

“We do not ask for your conversion, your submission or your lives. We are only asking that you allow us to live, and love, and exist. Let us stay here, in fair Linköping. Let us have our church, our homes, and our lives. Let us be amongst you, and together we will be stronger for it. Let us start anew, and preach tolerance and love instead of sin and hatred.”

He looked over the steps of the church, and only saw a sea of kneeling people, right down to the catholic clergy near the pyre.

He saw the start of a new era, and knew here, his people would be safe.

When the undead former antipope awoke, he cried, because he could not remember why his dream had felt so beautiful, or why it felt like a horrible loss when he could not remember it.

#alastors-radioshow #iomadachd #past memories #Drabble #papa Associado Cinque

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 350

John 1:4

TOO LATE 13 – AGENTS OF CHANGE? 5

Eze 14:19-20 “Or SUPPOSE I WERE TO SEND A PLAGUE INTO THAT LAND, AND POUR OUT MY RAGE ON IT WITH BLOODSHED, killing both people and animals. EVEN IF NOAH, DANIEL, AND JOB WERE IN IT, AS SURELY AS I LIVE, DECLARES THE SOVEREIGN LORD, THEY COULD NOT SAVE THEIR OWN SON OR DAUGHTER; THEY WOULD SAVE ONLY THEIR OWN LIVES BY THEIR RIGHTEOUSNESS. NET

This is Part 13 of TOO LATE and it might surprise you that I am now mentioning the core inspiration that led me to this Subtopic.

He was an Agent of Change – or was he? – called King JOSIAH.

To get the full details of this discourse, I plead with you to read II Kgs 22 to 23 & II Chron 33 to 35.

1Ki 13:1 One day, Jeroboam was standing at the altar in Bethel, ready to make an offering. Suddenly one of God's prophets arrived from Judah and shouted: The LORD sent me with a message about this altar. A CHILD NAMED JOSIAH WILL BE BORN INTO DAVID'S FAMILY. He will sacrifice on this altar the priests who make offerings here, and human bones will be burned on it. CEV

Josiah’s name was mentioned 47 times in KJV. Only one other person bore than name.

To put it simply, he was special. God mentioned him in Prophecy many years before he was born, why?

2Ki 22:2 And he did the right in the sight of Jehovah, and WALKED IN ALL THE WAY OF DAVID HIS FATHER, AND DID NOT TURN ASIDE TO THE RIGHT OR TO THE LEFT. GW

2Ki 23:25 Never before had there been a king like him, TURNING TO THE LORD WITH ALL HIS HEART AND WITH ALL HIS SOUL AND WITH ALL HIS POWER, AS THE LAW OF MOSES SAYS; and after him there was no king like him. BBE

I told us before: no matter what the final conclusions will be, God will never despise an “intercessor” who tries to stop Him from carrying out His mind, simply because God enjoys seeing someone who “feels” His “pains” over the people’s actions.

Josiah was the profoundest of them all.

2Ki 22:18-19 Say this to the king of Judah, who sent you to seek an oracle from the LORD: “This is what the LORD God of Israel has said concerning the words you have heard: ‘YOU DISPLAYED A SENSITIVE SPIRIT AND HUMBLED YOURSELF BEFORE THE LORD when you heard how I intended to make this place and its residents into an appalling example of an accursed people. YOU TORE YOUR CLOTHES AND WEPT BEFORE ME, AND I HAVE HEARD YOU,’ says the LORD. NET

Let me teach you what the Lord showed me: when you see evil and iniquity going on around you and the people relentless in perpetrating wickedness, the only way to exonerate and save yourself from [certain, inevitable] danger of God’s Judgment is to show and prove UTTER HATRED for the evils.

Eze 9:1,3-5 Then I heard God shout, "Come here, you men who are going to punish the city. Bring your weapons with you."… Then the dazzling light of the presence of the God of Israel rose up from the winged creatures where it had been, and moved to the entrance of the Temple. The LORD called to the man dressed in linen, "Go through the whole city of Jerusalem and PUT A MARK ON THE FOREHEAD OF EVERYONE WHO IS DISTRESSED AND TROUBLED BECAUSE OF ALL THE DISGUSTING THINGS BEING DONE IN THE CITY." And I heard God say to the other men, "Follow him through the city and kill. Spare no one; have mercy on no one. GNB

Judgment was set and no mercy left, but suddenly, those who have been unhappy about the happenings around them are spared.

Let me show you again that this is a STANDARD with God.

2Pe 2:6-7 GOD PUNISHED THE CITIES OF SODOM AND GOMORRAH BY BURNING THEM TO ASHES, and this is a warning to anyone else who wants to sin. LOT LIVED RIGHT AND WAS GREATLY TROUBLED BY THE TERRIBLE WAY THOSE WICKED PEOPLE WERE LIVING. HE WAS A GOOD MAN, AND DAY AFTER DAY HE SUFFERED BECAUSE OF THE EVIL THINGS HE SAW AND HEARD. SO THE LORD RESCUED HIM. CEV

“So, the Lord rescued him…” because he was terribly troubled and suffered emotional grief because of the evils he saw daily.

I used to think that Lot got saved [only] because when Abraham couldn’t save Sodom and Gomorrah, he finally concentrated prayers on his “family” member in there.

Gen 19:29 And so it was that, when God destroyed the cities of the plain, HE REMEMBERED ABRAHAM AND BROUGHT LOT OUT FROM THE MIDST OF THE DESTRUCTION when he overthrew the cities where Lot had lived. ISV

I was partly wrong! You see, Abraham understood certain Principles about such “Deliverance”.

He started his prayers with the most important factor: removing the RIGHTEOUS from danger.

Gen 18:23-24 Abraham came near, and said, “WILL YOU CONSUME THE RIGHTEOUS WITH THE WICKED? What if there are fifty righteous within the city? Will you consume and not spare the place for the FIFTY RIGHTEOUS WHO ARE IN IT? WEB

Abraham knew that Judgment was certain and there was no stopping God, so the last line of “defense” had to be applied.

So now, if you never perused our opening scripture, do so now.

Eze 14:20 EVEN IF NOAH, DANIEL, AND JOB WERE IN IT, AS SURELY AS I LIVE, declares the Sovereign LORD, they could not save their own son or daughter; THEY WOULD SAVE ONLY THEIR OWN LIVES BY THEIR RIGHTEOUSNESS. NET

When definite Judgment has been declared by God against a people, everything is automatically condemned to death, but only the “RIGHTEOUSNESS Standard scale” can be applied, if any will escape.

Do you now imagine why “Lot’s wife” became a Pillar of Salt?

Her SOUL was probably too knit with the things she was going to miss in Sodom as she looked back, and so, Lot couldn’t save her.

I suppose the 2 daughters only had a chance because they were virgins.

Please, Fear God!

Gen 19:8 Look, I HAVE TWO DAUGHTERS WHO ARE STILL VIRGINS. Let me bring them out to you, and you can do whatever you want with them. But don't do anything to these men; they are guests in my house, and I must protect them." GNB

We have to stop here now, but keep this fire till we continue next week.

May God find our hearts and souls in congruence with His passions and pains, IN JESUS NAME.

Join us on Wednesday as we proceed with this compelling Subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Monday, May 08, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[s-o-a-p-ing]

DEUTERONOMY S.O.A.P. ~ CHAPTER 4

Friday, 3/31/23

SCRIPTURE:

What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray to Him?   ~ Deuteronomy 4:7

Ask now about the former days, long before your time, from the day God created human beings on the earth; ask from one end of the heavens to the other. Has anything so great as this ever happened, or has anything like it ever been heard of?   ~ Deuteronomy 4:32

OBSERVATION:

"...so great..." twice...

So great - indeed...

Not because of me... but because of:

His nearness...

His Son Jesus...

His Holy Spirit...

Whenever I pray to Him...

Nothing like Jesus has ever happened or been heard of...

APPLICATION:

Take "advantage" of His nearness...

...of His forgiveness...

Pray...

Proclaim His greatness...

Make His greatness heard...

PRAYER

Good and great Heavenly Father God - I give thanks for Your presence, Your nearness, and proclaim Your Name in thanksgiving for what Jesus came and did for me on my behalf... may Your Spirit remind me it's sacrificing my will for Yours is the sacrifice that counts - in all things, large and small, and that all I need do stop and ask... In Jesus's Name, and that the world around me may hear of Your grace and mercy and come to You in praiseful worship...

Proclaiming His greatness in all things - especially y'all...

g

<))><

#Deuteronomy #Deuteronomy 4 #So great

[chocoenvy]

Happy Birthday to you...

Sagau!Diluc x Reader

what if reader and an acolyte shared a birthday?

10000% self indulgent. I've had the thought of sharing a birthday with an acolyte for a hot minute now due to the fact that Diluc and I share a birthday. And now that our birthday has finally come around I decided to write about it! Happy birthday Diluc and to anyone else out there that shares our birthday!!!!!

Warnings: Cult behaviors, fluffy, Diluc isn't exactly fond of reader but doesn't hate them either

The festival left a bitter taste in his mouth. It had ever since he was a kid. Sugary snacks and the creator's favorite cakes out on display did nothing to him, in fact it merely made him scrunch his nose in distaste.

It was the same thought every year, nobody cared to celebrate his birthday because of you. Because the all-creator was born this day. It should be an honor to be blessed with creation, to be so closely intertwined and favored by the creator to share a birthday with them. He was chosen is what everybody would tell him.

Except this day was never his special day. Not like he needed it anymore, birthdays stopped having meaning when he was quite young, however he still had bitter memories of it from when he was young.

His eyes caught onto kids blowing dandelions, making birthday wishes to the All-Creator. His maroon eyes held distaste, briskly walking back into his house. He was seen around the festival, he bought a little cake for himself, and now he could say he did the bare minimum. He could go home now without Kaeya and whoever else on his back about worshipping the creator.

Before he even realized it, he sat at his desk in Dawn Winery. With a quill in his dominant hand, he hesitated for a moment before beginning to write a letter to the traveler - your first vessel - as it had become customary.

The letter had derailed quickly, filling up the entire page in slightly messy handwriting. Honestly, the whole thing was unbecoming of him. Being so affected by this and then writing his feelings out in a letter. It all felt so... wrong. With a grim glare, he held the letter he had wrote, and it erupted into flames.

*~

Midnight struck and in your cozy home, you smiled as your device showed the date April 30th. A message popped up at the top of your screen, and you immediately knew what it was.

You eagerly went to see the letter sent by Diluc but was shocked to see how long it was.

With furrowed brows and eagerness in your stomach, you started reading:

Dear Traveler,

Today is not only my birthday, but yours as well. I have no doubt it is a joyous day considering all you have done for Teyvat. However... today is also the day the All-Creator blessed the Earth. The day their human vessel took form for the first time. It's a common legend, perhaps you've heard of it?

Well, either way, festivals are held on this day. Grand and full of splendor and things the All-Creator adores. I've always been seen as blessed to share this day with them but... it doesn't feel like I'm sharing. Ever since I was a child they overshadowed my birthday, and then so much happened as a kid. It made me ponder, if there was truly a merciful god, why would they allow such things to happen? If there were such thing as a god, why would they not grace us with their presence? Why not celebrate their birthday with us? Why not allow me to have this day as well?

Perhaps my ramblings sound like that of a madman, and perhaps they are. I doubt you could understand my plight as the hero of Teyvat. I'm sure everyone celebrates your existence no matter the circumstances.

Perhaps if my father were still around he would celebrate with me. Perhaps if I had done things differently.

It's all in the past now. This day is no longer my joyous day, but even still, I hope you have a good day. May all your wishes come true. If you wish to celebrate with me, I'll be at Dawn WInery as usual. I can get you some sparkling grape juice and we can have a meal we'd both enjoy for our birthday. If you so wish though it's fine if you don't show up. I've sent along a special ticket for Dawn Winery. Just give it to anyone at the Winery and they'll give you the food and gift I've prepared. Even if you don't want it, I merely ask you make use of it. Give it away or hold onto it if you so wish.

May your birthday be one to remember until our next.

Sincerely, Diluc.

For a moment, you merely stared at the screen, your jaw slack from shock. What the hell was his man going on about?

Lore-wise, had Kaeya managed to get him drunk on his birthday? Was that Hoyoverse's explanation for the bullshit he was spewing. But even then, none of this had been explained before hand. Who was this All-Creator? Why was Diluc acting so odd in the letter?

What was happening?

You mulled the thoughts over in your head as you pulled up the character screen, staring at Diluc. Whether he was important to your or not was irrelevant at the moment, he was your birthday buddy and he had just sent you a very odd letter. Did Hoyoverse put in the effort to have exclusive letters for if you and another character shared a birthday? Surely not. They can barely give you some scraps of food for their birthdays, much less exclusive gifts and letters.

Then you remembered the gift Diluc had mentioned. You checked your backpack for it and, sure enough, there was a special ticket.

"Dawn Winery VIP Ticket." You muttered, "A gift from Diluc on his and yours birthday. Turn it in at Dawn Winery and maybe you'll get something special. Diluc mentioned a meal and a gift in his letter."

You hummed, your brows furrowed, staring intently at the screen. As though if you scrunched up your nose and stared suspiciously at the ticket for long enough it'd give you the answers you were looking for.

After a minute of this, you roughly sighed and shrugged, exiting out of the backpack and going to your party set up. It was Diluc's birthday, so you might as well go to Dawn Winery with him.

A chuckle bubbled up in the back of your throat at the thought of Hoyoverse actually implementing a birthday activity with one of the characters. Now that was wishful thinking. But still, you could pretend. Plus, at the very least, maybe the ticket could get you some cool item or recipe.

So, with Diluc as the leader of your party, you made your way to Dawn Winery.

He felt your presence within him, urging him to run run run to the winery. Jumping down cliffs with agility and speed he never knew a mortal such as him could posses until your hand graced him.

It's the same thing each and every acolyte experiences. But he was surprised to see you so eagerly posses his body and use him to sprint as fast as possible to the winery. Were you really that excited to see what he had prepared? He didn't think you'd even care. You had never cared all of his other birthdays, where he had to celebrate alone. Where you overshadowed any and all birthday wishes he could have ever received.

So why now were you so interested in his little gift? Was it selfishness? Curiosity? Surely such a noble and supreme god such as yourself couldn't care for such trivial mortal matters. That's why all of he others whom had sent letters with offers to spend their precious time with you never got anything. You'd never shown up, too busy with godly duties or whatever their excuse was to save face. It had become standard practice by now to offer it up and for you to not show up.

So why now? Why his birthday were you rushing to turn in the ticket, with him as well?

Self-centeredness perhaps? The fact that it was your birthday and perhaps that's why you're rushing to celebrate his birthday. Nothing else mattered unless it's centered around you. At least that's the conclusion he came to. It's the only one that made sense to him.

You made it to the Winery with a pep in your step. It was then that you realized that there wasn't a specific person you were told to hand it to.

You roughly sighed, realizing that it was indeed another null note that meant nothing.

"Curse you Hoyoverse." You frowned, comically shaking your fist.

You shrugged and headed in anyways. Might as well pay a visit it Elzer and the ugly ass model the poor man got cursed with, and also a teeny tiny part of you was just a tad hopeful.

You cringed back when you saw his model, remembering how the manga had depicted him and now... he just had an ugly npc model.

You clicked on the speak option and the screen went black.

"Hello there your grace!" Text popped up where it usually would, under the name of Elzer, "Is there something you'd like to give me perhaps...?" He trailed off as though he already knew why you had came here, and your inventory popped up.

For a minute, you sat there in stunned silence. Staring at the black screen, your backpack, and then the words. Your grace. He'd said.

For a moment, fear struck your heart. Then realization hit you, "Oh!" You laughed it off, "Right, Elzer calls Diluc his grace." You shook your head at how you'd freaked out. The black screen was probably another glitch.

Still, it was a bit odd that he was referring to Diluc in particular. What if you had been a different character? What if you didn't even have Diluc?

"Hoyoverse? Putting effort into their game? Aha-" You chuckled, shaking your head and clicking on the only lit up item in your inventory. The ticket from Diluc's letter.

"Ah! The ticket from the master!" Elzer said, "Thank you for this, I'm sure the master will be delighted. Please, come this way, your grace."

Something was off... was Elzer... speaking directly to you? He was mentioning Diluc so that meant he wasn't talking to him... why was he calling you your grace?

Your head spun, the loading screen popped up and your body went slack. The only thing you could hear was the Dawn Winery music and then slowly... the smell of alcohol.

#the first thing reader does when they get to teyvat is put diluc's hair in a high ponytail #sagau #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #diluc #diluc x reader #happy birthday diluc!!!!!!!!!!!! #surprisingly i did not lose the 50/50 to him #i lost it to keking.... #well either way im still waiting for jean to come home #i have klee AND albedo miss ma'am pls come home the kids miss you :( #lowkey tempted to make a part two to this though... just a tad... #okay i want to make a part two just so i can include diluc singing happy birthday to the reader woopsies

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

#sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #ryoumen sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna x reader romance #sukuna imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #ryoumen sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna x you imagines #sukuna x you fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #suki: 500 milestone event #suki: scheduled

[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

 - “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjkxreader #jujutsukaisenxreader #yujiitadori #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #itadori x reader #sukuna #sukuna headcanons #jjk headcanons #sukuna smut #gojo saturo x reader #jujutsu Kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #sukunafluff

[rere-the-writer]

hey!! If it’s not too much to ask, could I request a kol x reader where the reader is a witch and a doppelgänger? Like somehow the reader and Elena are both doppelgängers, but after Klaus broke the curse the reader was able to live a fairly normal life in New Orleans, that is until Esther comes back. Maybe because of Klaus’ presence in Nola the reader has allied with Marcel for protection, resulting in her befriending Davina and encountering the newly resurrected kol? Kol attacks her when he sees her because he thinks she’s Elena, but when she overpowers him with her magic he realizes she’s not Elena. They eventually become friends and start to develop feelings for each other maybe? I hope that isn’t too specific. I really just would like something a little angsty and fluffy with witch! Kol. I really admire your work. It’s very uplifting and comforting, especially, your kol content. He’s my comfort character but I’ve exhausted the supply of fluffy kol fics 😅 Thanks! Make sure to take care of yourself, love ❤️

I'm glad you like my Kol. Time for some fluff for my baby boy.

Warnings- Fluff, Kol be simpin', A bit of angsty

You had been living in New Orleans for a year now to be away from Katherine and Elena as you were a different doppelganger and still carried the Petrova family name. You were a powerful witch and didn't care that Elena was like your long distance cousin because of the bloodline you shared.

Once you had heard Klaus was spotted in Mystic Falls, much to Elena's disappointment you got the hell out of dodge not wanting to be used by the Original as you knew your family's history with the Mikaelsons. Marcel had took you under his wing much like Davina as you help teach the younger witch to control her magic.

You were angry that your life had been fucked over because of Katherine but after Klaus broke his curse you were able to life a normal life in New Orleans that was until a pregnant wolf and Esther coming back.

"The Originals are in town be careful." Marcel told you knowing if Klaus knew of another doppelganger you would be in danger. But Elijah knew about you as he came to you about Davina and you managed to tell him she wasn't a threat.

"So your family has history with the Mikaelsons?"

"You could say that De."

You could feel Esther's magic as it was heavy in the air even more after Davina told you she brought back Kol. It happened in a blur you were held against a wall by your thoat.

"You killed me litt...." Kol was cut off holding his head as you looked down at Kol with a glare as your hand was in a fist.

"I am not Elena, vampire." You growled as Kol felt like his head was on fire as the pain was unbearable. Kol could see that you may have the same face as Elena, your hair was cut short and curled as you got tired of people mistaken you for Elena or Katherine.

"I see....that....now....you're a powerful....witch." Kol panted as you let him go and Kol couldn't help but stare at you. You were attractive and Kol cursed to hisself now seeing what his brother's saw in the Petrova women.

"And you are annoying Kol Mikaelson."

"Forgive me but I don't know your name."

"And you won't." You say walking away leaving Kol laying there as he got up before deciding to ask Elijah.

"You ran into Y/N Petrova?" Elijah questioned his younger brother putting down his book catching Klaus's attention. Kol had got to Elijah to see if he knew anything and was glad.

"Yes so she is a doppelganger?"

"Yes, it surprised Niklaus when Katherine threw her under the bus. Y/N is the last pure blood Petrova witch." Elijah says as Klaus smirking sitting down remembering when he found you on the third day of him being New Orleans. Unlike Katherine and Elena, you didn't fear Klaus as proven when you made his heart stop when he tried taking you from Marcel.

"She is a little feisty witch. Rebekah likes her better than Katherine and Elena which is saying something."

"Oh?" Kol said standing smirking as Elijah and Klaus knew that smirk this crazy boy was going to try to date you.

"Be care Kol. If Marcellus doesn't kill you then she will."

When you got a call from Klaus saying he needed a powerful witch to weaken the hybrids under mother's control you thought he would talk to Davina.

'I need a Petrova witch love.' Was what Klaus told you and you walked into the compound annoyed when Kol smirked following you up stairs.

"Any plans this weekend?"

"Non of your business." You said annoyed hoping that Kol would have lost interest in you by now but the wildest Mikaelson just fell harder with every name calling and magic sent his way.

"Maybe I could take you out."

"No." You told him glaring but it didn't stop Kol from trying to ask you out or buying you flowers and gifts.

"De! I AM IN LOVE WITH AN IDIOT!" You shouted one morning scaring Davina when you came into your shared apartment. You founded yourself falling for Kol which to you was an idiot and didn't know why. You spent the day ranting to Davina that you couldn't love Kol because he was a Mikaelson and you were a Petrova.

"Hello darling."

"What do you want idiot?" You asked working on a spell to help Elijah when Kol had came over and stepped up behind you. You looked up at Kol and your breathing hitched seeing how close he was and your eyes flickered to his lips.

"I was....hoping that...you would finally. " Kol muttered leaning in as your cheeks flushed moving in also and his lips were on yours. The kiss was explosive as sparks flew and you moan against his mouth kissing back.

"Does this mean you like me and we can see one another?" Kol asked sounding unsure his cheeks tinted red as you smiled softly for the first time since he met you.

"Yeah, you goof." You whispered as Kol brighen kissing you again and let out a whine when you pulled away.

"I need to finish this spell." You tell him letting the vampire cling to you watching you work.

It didn't take Marcel and the other Mikaelsons to notice that Kol and you were seeing one another a lot more. You had managed to mellow Kol out as he now turned all of his focus on you. But one thing you and he agreed on was not tell anyone that he proposed eight months into your relationship as you both didn't know how Klaus would react.

"Cute place."

"What do you want Katherine? I thought you didn't want to be anywhere near Nik?" You questioned walking in to your apartment seeing Katherine sitting in a chair drinking your good wine.

"You cut your hair."

"What do you want?" You asked glaring as your magic was stirring up as Katherine huffed before spotting the engagement ring on your hand.

"You're engaged?"

"Yes now Katherine what do you want?!"

"Fine....I need help and you are the only powerful witch I know. Elena had turned off her humanity and I know you have a spell to get her to turn it on."

"Since when did you care about Elena?" You questioned pulling out your grimoire as Katherine watched you huffing sipping her wine.

"The brothers are boring and all angsty over it. It is annoying but I hear you and Kol are a thing."

"That is non of your business." You tell her getting to work then dropped a small bottle in her hand.

"Have Elena drink that it'll compel her to turn it back on." You tell Katherine as she smirked thanking you before leaving and while she was at it sent a text to Klaus that you were engaged to Kol.

Klaus was angry when he learned of you and Kol ever more angry when learning that Kol was going move out of the city with you after your marriage. In Klaus's eyes you were taking what was his while both Rebekah and Elijah was happy for Kol.

"Go warn her. I'll hold Niklaus back." Elijah told Kol hearing Klaus growled throwing things. Kol was quick to head to your place which smiled brightly seeing him walking in.

"So what kind of cake....Kol are you okay?" You asked seeing how terrified your future husband looked. Kol cupped your face tearing up as if to commit your face to memory.

"Nik knows and is coming for you....you need to run and hopefully he'll calm down and we can marry."

"Kol.....I....don't want....to live...like Katherine had.....please don't." You whimpered as he kissed you gently and helped you pack. That night after using magic to hide your tracks, Kol went to blows with Klaus while Katherine suffered at the hand of Elijah when he learned the vampire was the one to ruin Kol's slice of happiness.

"Come on Elijah, the little witch could use so....." Katherine was cut off when Elijah slammed her against a wall hand warped around her thoat.

"If Y/N dies in the hands of Niklaus, I will not be merciful Katerina."

Four years you were on the run visiting Kol's favorite places which made you feel closer to the Original while learning new magic's getting stronger. You sat in your London flat watching the snow falling gently while unconsciously playing with your engagement ring while thinking about Kol.

"Darling can you let me in?" You heard Kol ask making you rush to the door tearing it open letting him. You jumped up into his arms kissing him deeply pulling a deep moan from Kol.

"You're here! Oh my god I missed you. Never again idiot." You said inbetween kisses as Kol smiled looking up at you with adoration.

"I missed you too darling. You did a better job at hiding than Katherine."

"Wait.! But Klaus?"

"It took three years but Elijah and Rebekah calmed him then I spent a year looking for you." Kol said kissing you again as he took you to your bed relearning one another's body.

"You kept it."

"Yeah....ask me again." You tell him taking the ring off as Kol slipped out of your bed getting on one knee.

"Please marry me? You gorgeous, beautiful woman that I would be honored to be her husband."

"Yes....a thousands times yes." You said tears falling as Kol smiled putting the ring back on your hand. Kol rushed up kissing you again as you both fell back into the bed.

"I love you, my beloved."

"I love you too, Kol." You whispered back as you both finally got to be happy.

#rere's stories #kol mikaelson fluff #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x reader