#defeated in epic battle

[paintedhen]

spamton after not surviving mettaton

[hanzajesthanza]

if i thought the witcher was painfully realistic. i was wrong. it is a very clear fairytale that comforts and soothes. even in its realistic take on the genre, it inspires, even in its tragedy, it comforts.

evil is defeated epically in a final battle in the darkness, the valiant heroes fall together, the lovers die united, and all pass into legend and are remembered for ever and ever. and the spirit of our hero returns now and again to save and deliver us from evil… they become legend and in that legend they are immortal…

[ortlynothere]

okokok but what if sans is the knight

[rhythmicreverie]

In the realm of Neptune's gleaming light, Two hearts found solace from the endless fight. As galaxies clashed and stars burned out, A love story bloomed in cosmic doubt. In shadows of the celestial dance, Good and evil met in fierce advance. Yet amidst the chaos, two souls intertwined, Their passion a beacon through the darkness combined. As heroes and villains clashed and bled, Their love forged an unbreakable thread. In every epic battle, their hearts did beat, A testament to love, even in eternal defeat.

[enchantingepics]

Story Prompt 60

There existed a figure shrouded in darkness. Some called them a villain, while others whispered tales of their ruthlessness and cunning. Yet, amidst the chaos they wrought, there beat a heart heavy with remorse.

Caught in the web they spun was the hero, a beacon of light in the murky depths of the villain's domain. Unexpectedly, a tender emotion blossomed within the villain's hardened soul - guilt. Guilt for the tendrils of affection that wound around the hero's unsuspecting heart, guilt for the innocence they tainted with their allure.

"I'm here if you want me," the villain murmured, their voice a haunting echo in the caverns of the hero's conscience.

The hero's gaze wavered, torn between duty and desire. "This… this can't be right," they faltered, their resolve shaken by the raw vulnerability in the villain's confession.

"It's not about right or wrong," the villain countered, a hint of desperation seeping into their words. "It's about what we feel."

But the hero shook their head, a flicker of anguish clouding their features. "I can't… I can't betray everything I stand for."

Silence lingered like a heavy fog between them, pregnant with unspoken words and shattered dreams. With a heavy heart, the hero turned away, their footsteps echoing hollowly against the stone floor.

As the hero vanished into the depths of the night, the villain remained rooted to the spot, haunted by the specter of what could have been. And though they stood on opposite sides of the battlefield, their hearts remained intertwined, bound by the fragile threads of forbidden love.

"I'll wait for you," the villain whispered into the darkness, a solitary figure standing sentinel at the edge of oblivion. "I'll always wait."

[insomni-frog]

my favourite robot scientist (who herself is a robot.) Here's me actually trying to make content of my other ocs who aren't the zodiacs.

She's a super epic, support cookie who's skill involves taking the two lowest health members of her team and switching them out with a wafflebot (the class of the cookie affects what wafflebot is summoned,) the cookies that are switched out will start to be healed while the wafflebot takes action in their place. The cookies are redeployed into battle when her skill runs out, or until the wafflebot is defeated.

Her bio under the cut.

Of all the things to find in a decommissioned cryobaking pod, a child wouldn't be at the top of the list.

Her true origins are a complete mystery, but that didn't stop her from quickly excelling past her peers. A prodigy in robotics, her skills far above someone of her age (and even Cookies older than her) caught many Cookie's attention: including the head of house Baumkuchen, who met her when she came to study medicine under his teachings.

She's succeeded in many places, made achievements some cookies can only dream off, all in the name of a greater good. But sometimes she finds herself wondering if the greater good is really worth her sacrifices.

(I'm not so good at writing bios)

[tylermileslockett]

Hekate is known as a protector of entryways, borders, and crossroads. She is also a Cthonic (underworld) goddess who exists on the peripheries of the pantheon, and teaches witches like Circe and Medea their magical crafts. Therefore, she has darker associations with death, the underworld, the moon, magic spells, and spirits.

In Hesiod’s Theogany, Hecate is the daughter of Titans Perses and Asteria. For defeating the giant Pergamon in the Gigantomauchy (epic battle between Olympians and Giants), Hekate is the only Titan to retain her powers under the rule of Zeus, who gives Hecate a share of earth, heaven and sea.

One of the most famous myths involving Hecate is Hades’ abduction of Demeter’s daughter, Persephone. Hekate assists Demeter in the underworld by leading the way with torchlight, and later becomes an attendant to Persephone. Hecate’s sacred animal ally is a black dog, said to be Hecuba, Queen of Troy, who was reincarnated by Hekate after suicide. Another sacred animal servant is the Polecat (weasel), who was the handmaiden Galinthias punished for a deception involving the birth of Hercules.

  Around the 5th century B.C.E. we see the first sculptural totem figures portraying Hekate in the triple body form surrounding a central column. These votive statues for the protection of travelers would be placed at crossroads with each figure facing a different path.

Hekate is associated with a variety of frightening Daimones (minor divinities or spirits which could be good or evil.) the Empusae was a shapeshifting specter with the body of a woman, and one leg of brass and the other of a donkey, with hopes of devouring a traveler. The Lamia was originally a vengeful Libyan serpentine woman who devoured children, but later was seen to take the form of attractive, voluptuous woman who would seduce a traveler and feast on their fresh blood. The Mormo was another phantom bogeyman said to be sent out by Hekate to nibble on misbehaving children. 

Thanks again for everyone's suggestions. Hope you like the final painting! Please share it if possible. Xoxo

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 1

Propaganda:

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear:

THEY LITERALLY MADE MR CRY THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED THE GAME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY FINALLY GET TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME.

they are married in canon and are epic and amazing. they had sad canon events where bob thought helmut was dead for like 30 years or something but helmut WASN'T dead his brain was still alive and they are reunited in the game first by way of stealing an evil dictator's body and then later on they put helmut's brain in a ball as a temporary fix while they go out to find his body which has been frozen in ice. the game forces you to walk through bob's memory of saying his vows at their wedding ceremony and it's seriously some of the most romantic and heartwarming shit i've ever heard, especially "just when i thought i was turning to seed, you made me bloom again" like my god. i love them

they're gay and old as hell!!!! there's a level dedicated to their wedding!!!

Helmut is voiced by Jack Black and is currently a brain in a ball, and Bob knows him so well that the mental image of him in his drunken mind says things Bob KNOWS the real Helmut would never say. Also Helmut is temporarily in the body of a guy voiced by Elijah Wood-

Craig Cuttlefish/DJ Octavio:

well you see they used to be friends but were on opposite sides of the great turf war. cuttlefish gets a 14 year old to go stop octavios army. also they argue in splatoon 3 which is just part of the 100+ year divorce arc BUT AT THE FINAL BOSS IN THE JAPANESE VERSION THEY SHARE THE ICONIC LINE THAT CUES THE CALAMARI INKANTATION AND IN THE ENGLISH CUTTLEFISH TELLS OCTAVIO TO "HIT IT" AND START THE MUSIC AND MUSIC IS SO IMPORTANT TO THE SPLATOON UNIVERSE YAAAAA ik its grasping but its lovers to enemies

Literally I have seen so many people call this old man yaoi.

Old men divorce!!!

They're old men who made their divorce the problem of every young person in their lives <3. 100 years ago during the Great Turf War between inklings and octarians, Craig and Octavio were the chosen ambassadors of their respective species. They got along well, but unfortunately found themselves on opposite sides of the war. During one of the battles Craig shot Octavio in the heart. The inlkings won the war and the octarians were forced underground. For years afterward both men grew bitter towards each other, and eventually Octavio attacked the new Squidbeak Splatoon (a group of secret agents recruited by Craig). Octavio lost both times and got imprisoned in a giant snow globe (and Craig calls him cute). In the latest game Octavio got over his hatred for Inklings (Craig's species) and used his flying mech to help defeat the BBEG of the game. After the final fight, Craig said something to the effect of 'that old rascal turned out to be not so bad!'.

Alright ok hear me out! These two old men have fought in wars for their races against each other and have the craziest pathetic old man homoerotic tension ever. They like, went from at least respecting each other before the war and then they were forced to fight each other and then when Cuttlefish's side won, Octavio went underground like a pathetic lil wet cat and later on he kidnapped Cuttlefish because of game related reasons and both of them still have way too much homoerotic tension!!! And then Octavio gets owned and then in the second game Octavio decides that "Hey actually, lets kidnap Cuttlefish's granddaughter" and the old man isnt even there cause hes busy being a pathetic old man in the under-underground!!! And in the third game they go fron rival/enemies to reluctantly working together to save the world from actual extinction bc some durry bitch wants to cover it in fuzzy ooze and like, both of them have so much old man ship potential and just- theyre still pining for each other even after over a 100 years man,,,,

I personally headcanon Cap'n Cuttlefish as homophobic, but I see the ship a lot and think it's funny.

They’re both at least like 125 probably a bit older, they are so divorced, like peak lovers to enemies back to lovers, Cap’n Cuttlefish calls Octavio cute in Splatoon one immediately after you rescue him from Octavio kidnapping him? So dysfunctional, so gay, so old

They fought in the Great Turf War which was said to be over 100 years ago, Capn Cuttlefish was, well, a captain I believe (he had some sort of rank even if he wasn't a captain, like he led a battle that's singled out in the sunken scrolls of the first game). they act so divorced in the singleplayer mode like they cannot stop insulting each other specifically but octavio always comes back and like kidnaps or insults captain cuttlefish it's so. and when the great zapfish gets stolen in splatoon 3 captain cuttlefish is like "it's the octarians again i know it" like divorced behavior. also it wasn't this time and octavio gets super weird about it. maybe you should stop using children as props in your drama though.

my favorite war crime divorcees <3

They basically are friends to enemies to lovers. Both of them fought in a war that hurt DJ Octavio so bad he can’t become an inkling.

friends -> enemies -> lovers. what more is there to say

they are soooo divorced

they were so gay their breakup ended a war

Craig Cuttlefish got sucked dry by a bear

they got divorced but then they got remarried . they fuckinf hate eachother but they also make out sloppy style and i do not know how that works because neither of them have mouths in their swim form which they are both permanently stuck in. love wins but also loses at the same time with these fucking losers

they are sooo divorced omg. istg they were dating when they were younger and then war n shit happened and now theyre bitter exes who probably still make out sometimes. Makes it so much funnier that theyre old ass men (both over 100!) and Cuttlefish has grandkids

They were on opposite sides of a war and still fell in love

[msbigredmachine]

Power Couple: The Aftermath (Roman Reigns)

When the Tribal Chief falls, no one helps him back up better than you do. Set after the epic main event of Wrestlemania XL.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Warnings: Excess fluff and of course, smut.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Yes, I'm still in my feelings, and there was only one pairing I could properly convey my feelings with, because this has also been their story all along. For new readers, I strongly suggest reading the first two one-shots before delving into this one. Hope you enjoy!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

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1,316 days.

All wiped away with three slaps of the referee’s hand to the hard canvas.

Even after Cody rolled away from him, Roman could not move. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. Not when the air had been punched out of his lungs, literally and figuratively. It was only when Dwayne pulled him out of the ring by his pants leg that his body managed to kickstart itself into some sort of motion. And even then, all he could do was turn his head to look back and watch as Cody celebrated in the ring with his wife Brandi, holding his title belt aloft for the whole world to behold as the ultimate symbol of his victory. 

It should have been you and him up there. It should have been him. Again. But it wasn’t. Because the one time he got careless in battle, it cost him everything. Throwing years of hard work down the drain.

And it made him sick to his stomach.

The sound of ‘Kingdom’ blaring through the Lincoln Financial Field Stadium was torture to the former champion’s ears. His legs felt like lead as he dragged his battered body up the ramp, ignoring Dwayne’s baseless, performative complaints about nothing, as he put distance to the tableau of triumph of his opponent. The weight of this defeat was heavy, suffocating even, and he was desperate to get the fuck out of there, to get out of Philadelphia, out of Pennsylvania and all its environs. As he reached the top of the vast WrestleMania stage, pain surged through his abdomen, forcing him to recoil into himself and double over in pain. 

His Wise Man noticed his plight and paused to observe his charge. "My Tribal Chief, are you alright? Do you need-"

Roman shook his head. "I'm fine,” he snapped, willing himself to keep walking until he made it past the curtain. He leaned against the wall and bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

“What can I do, my Tribal Chief?” Paul implored.

“Just…get my wife on the bus and make sure everything’s ready to go. I’ll be there soon."

“Right away my Tribal Chief,” Paul replied eagerly, scurrying off to do as he was told.

It was a good long minute before Roman managed to pull himself back upright, staggering towards his locker room. Walking was so hard, his body hurt so much, but none of it hurt as much as the gut punch of failure. Much worse than any of the bumps he took was the shame, the disappointment engulfing him; so much so that he couldn’t bear to look anyone else in the eye right now.

Because he had failed everyone who cared about him.

He had failed you.

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All good things come to an end. That’s how the saying goes, right? The interesting part of that was that on the surface, it was a throwaway little trope, harmless and benign, until something that meant a great deal to you got taken away in the blink of an eye, or in this case, a three-count. The moment the bell signaled the pinfall that confirmed your husband's time as the Undisputed WWE Universal Champion had come to an end, you knew he would never be the same again.

It wasn't unlike Roman to be a little on edge weeks before a big premium live event. And given the nature of the two main event matches he was locked in for the fortieth annual WrestleMania, you expected he would be grouchy. But this time around seemed different, and not in a good way. He’d been surly towards everybody, including you. He disappeared for hours working out obsessively. He’d even thrown out a female member of the press who had dared to boo him at the press conference on Saturday night. Now, despite the final match of the weekend concluding nearly an hour ago, Roman was yet to return to his tour bus. That only meant one thing; he was not taking this defeat well, and it was up to you to lift him up, like you always did.

When you found the door boasting your husband's name, Heyman was outside, pacing back and forth. The Undisputed title, which you had grown accustomed to seeing on his shoulders on behalf of his Tribal Chief, was missing; a stark, prickly reminder of the outcome of tonight’s proceedings. 

"That bad, huh?" you asked, reading the Wise Man’s expression in a second. In fact, he looked on the verge of tears, his shoulders sagging with despair. The weekend had taken an emotional toll on him, too.

"He won’t come out," he informed you, his usually confident voice shaky and helpless. “He won’t let anyone in and he won’t speak to anyone…”

You raised your index finger to cut him off. "Correction, he won’t speak to anyone that’s not me," you stated, shooting him a warm smile, one among countless others you had shared with him since burying the hatchet after years of friction between you. "Go be with your family, Paul. I’ll handle my husband.”

“He’s my family, too,” he declared softly, the conviction in what you used to call his beady eyes, palpable and heartbreaking, “Both of you are.”

Touched and at a loss for words, you could only look on as he turned around slowly and made the lonely walk down the hallway. Turning back to the locker room door, you sucked a breath between your teeth and blew it out, mentally preparing to confront this task head-on.

You knocked timidly and stuck your head inside. If Roman was in as foul a mood as Paul let on, even you did not want to be there. It had taken a few unfortunate incidents over the years for you to learn that even a kiss from his wife wasn't enough when he got too stressed. It never stopped you from trying, though. Kissing was one of your favorite things to do with him after all.

"Knock, knock," you called out softly, listening for signs of movement as you stepped inside and closed the door. The room that was bustling just a few hours ago was now stripped bare and cloaked in dead quiet. It was an eerie contrast to the majestic, sweeping grandiosity that encompassed his entrance to the ring tonight. “Babe?”

Venturing further inside the room, you found him on the couch, his strong, broad back to you, his shoulders slumped dejectedly. An open bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the coffee table in front of him. His ula fala was draped over the headrest, where his title belt would surely have been. 

This was the reality no one warned you about after a monumental loss. It plunged you into a cold, dark abyss, wrought with biting silence and dreary loneliness now that the show was over and the lights were no longer bright. The what ifs, buts and maybes crooning in your ear like a morbid symphony. It was an experience all too familiar to you unfortunately, and recently, too; you and your husband had traveled down this terrible road following the tragic miscarriage of your son in the summer of 2022.

Stepping in front of him, you wiggled into his personal space and made yourself at home on his lap. Gently wrapping your arms around him, you sighed with relief when he instantly melted into you and his huge arms enveloped your waist, holding on to you like his life depended on it. 

“My baby,” you cooed soothingly, the sound of your lips meeting the side of his head piercing through the emptiness of the locker room. “My love.” 

The audible hitch of his breath at your soft words was expected. In the course of your lifetime, those two little phrases had garnered a poignant significance. As words of comfort and solace first uttered by your mother when you were a child, you murmured those words regularly to Roman between sweet, playful kisses when he was courting you, basking in the bliss of newfound love, and again as part of your wedding vows as you became man and wife. They were the first words you whispered to Laleia the first time she was placed in your arms. They were the words that you had cried yourself to sleep with as you mourned the baby boy you had lost. You and Roman had seen each other at your absolute best and worst, and now, in the isolation of this room, with just the two of you and nobody else, this was another bad moment you had to overcome.

“On Matt’s birthday, too,” Roman finally spoke, wiping at his nose with a sniffle. “Fuck, man.”

“I know,” you replied, running your hand comfortingly up and down his upper arm. As he met your gaze at last, you saw that his eyes were bloodshot. Seeing him like this broke your heart afresh. You held him as close as possible, willing all his pain and his hurt into your soul, wanting nothing more than to take it all away.

"I fucked up," he breathed, his voice raw and choked with misery, "I fucked up out there, babe...I let Dwayne down...I let y'all down. I lost the title and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what? Over thirteen hundred days as champion?" you countered, "Nine WrestleMania main events? Billions of dollars in revenue? A roof over your child's head and three square meals a day? One loss will never wipe any of that away, don't ever get it twisted."

He exhaled tiredly as he hugged you tighter, resting his head on your shoulder. "I really wish I felt that way right now," he mumbled.

"It'll take some time, but you will," you asserted, running his fingers through his loose hair before tugging it lightly, making him look at you again. "Roman, you changed the industry, just like you said you would when we started this. No one will ever, ever forget what you've done these past four years. Be proud of all of it. You've been through so much, you sacrificed too much to not be proud."

Roman nodded in understanding. He just wished he didn't feel so down. "Baby, I...I want you to know how sorry I am. I know how much you wanted this. And I've been such a dick to you lately-"

You kissed your teeth and waved his apology away. "Nah. That don't matter no more. And I don't care that you didn't win. All I care about is you being safe when you're out there. Being healthy for our family and our daughter, who will be very happy to have her Daddy home, by the way. So we took an L. Okay, we'll only come back stronger. We had one bad night. Guess what? I plan on giving you a better morning, if you know what I mean." You rounded off your words with a wink, your heart blooming when he chuckled in response. "See, there's that smile I love so much. Keep your head up, baby. You did so good tonight. I couldn't be more proud of you."

Roman leaned into you, his forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in and filling his head with your scent. It was like breathing fresh air. “I love you, Y/N. I love you with all of my heart. I don’t deserve you, I never have.”

The tears you'd been fighting all night resurfaced, but you blinked them away as you captured his lips with yours, your hand sliding over the back of his neck. He clung to you, a different emotion quickly overtaking him as he returned your kiss with a bit of aggression, his tongue whipping hungrily against yours, savoring your mouth as though he was tasting it for the very first time. You surrendered to his every whim, your other hand raking through his hair then caressing gently down to his chest, resting your palm over the spot where his heart pumped for you. You could feel how much he needed this moment of intimacy, and you had no qualms giving him anything he asked for.

With one quick tug of your legs, Roman had you straddling him on the couch, bringing you chest to chest with your lush backside resting on his growing bulge. He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, then sealed your mouths again, his tongue invading, probing, a moan rumbling in his chest when you matched his energy, the emotions take over this loving embrace. He could never get enough of you, of the passion that overwhelmed him by your mere presence, immersing him in a love and gratitude he would always feel for you no matter what state of mind he was in.

Eventually, you pulled away from each other, breathless, panting, lips glistening with each other’s saliva. His heart raced at the familiar gleam in your darkened eyes. You weren’t done with him, not just yet, and this was confirmed as you slowly slid off him and sank to your knees between his spread thighs, pushing the front of his shirt up to expose his newly honed six-pack abs.

“Do you know how fucking hot you looked tonight, Daddy?” you purred to him, leaning in to run your tongue over the ridges of muscle on his taut belly. “Last night? All week? Do you have any idea of all the nasty shit I’m gonna do to you on the bus?”

Roman’s dick jumped in his joggers as his imagination ran wild. He squirmed in his seat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth as your tongue lapped at his belly, your mouth warm on his skin, all while you rubbed the fullness of his bulge straining eagerly against your touch. “Baby girl…” he choked out, as your fingers peeled the waistband of his pants, unveiling his big, beautiful brown dick. 

“Hmm, commando. I like it,” you commented with a smirk, curling your fist around his turgid length.

“Babe, wait…ain’t Paul outside?”

“I sent him home. Plus, won't be the first time he's seen me suck you off.” Your small hand massaged his blunt, plum-shaped head as you licked a trail along the underside of his dick, enjoying the gasps of pleasure that he made. Licking up the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip, your mouth opened wider to take him in. He stared you down with an intense look in his dark irises, which soon fluttered shut as your lips wrapped tight around his flesh, his stomach tensing as he felt himself slide deeper inside. “Awww, fuuuck,” he moaned.

Pulling back for a second, you held his lust-filled stare and stroked his dick a little harder, giggling when it twitched in your grip. A defiant look clouded your eyes as you licked at his tip before pushing him back into your mouth. It was enough for him to nut by just watching you, the visual of your lips sliding slowly up and down his length, that sexy mouth of yours making sweet love to his dick. It felt so good that he sank further into the plush leather of the couch, his head rolling back lazily against the headrest, his toes curling inside his brand new Air Reigns sneakers. All the pain and punishment his body had endured tonight melted away and was replaced with much more pleasurable sensations.

“I love the way you suck my dick, wifey,” he praised you, forcing himself to observe you through his barely open eyelids. “Mmm, that slutty little mouth is warm as fuck…You so sexy, baby, keep lookin’ up at me like that...” 

His raspy growls had you glancing back up at him, batting your pretty eyelashes as you sucked him off. Wetness pooled between your thighs at his famished expression. Completely aroused, you picked up the pace as your hands and your mouth worked in tandem, sucking and stroking his dick, pleasuring him from tip to base. His breathing became heavier as he throbbed against your tongue, his hands finding the back of your head as he got lost in the paradise of your warm, wet mouth. 

“Damn, baby. I bet that pussy leakin’ for me right now. You gettin’ wet sucking Daddy off, beautiful?” he taunted, his tongue swishing over his bottom lip at the same time your tongue swirled around the base of his shaft. The little moan that escaped your throat told him he was right. Of course he was; he knew his wife better than anybody else. “Good girl. Keep goin', I want that pussy extra wet. I’ma lick all that shit up when we get on the bus.”

With another soft moan, you crawled closer to his body and bore down on him, bobbing your head up and down that long, fat cock. Scooping your hair up into his large fist for leverage, Roman rocked his hips upwards from his seated position, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You relaxed your throat to take him deeper, moaning around his dick and letting him know how much you were enjoying him fucking your face. You rolled his balls in your hand, caressing the heavy, tightened sac to send him over the edge. It was working, as he began thrusting faster, his husky groans of pleasure amplifying as he neared his release.

“Unnnhh, baby, here it comes…Fuck, open your mouth,” he gasped, not waiting for you to do so as he yanked you by your hair to free himself from your intoxicating mouth. You quickly opened wide as he grabbed his cock and jerked it desperately against your tongue. He caught sight of the glazed-over quality of your gaze, and he knew that your panties were completely ruined, your pussy dripping with your need for him. He planned to take care of that very soon.

It was a show more spectacular than Mania, the sight of his gorgeous face contorted with pleasure, his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the heavens as his orgasm washed over his big body. Your moans harmonized together with each spasm of his cum down your throat, making you swallow every drop he unleashed. His grip on your hair was tight and almost painful, but you were turned on anyway, aroused by the knowledge that no one brought him to this state of paramount pleasure like you did. Licking your lips, you scooped him back into your mouth to clean him up, released him with a soft pop when you finished, and tucked him back inside the confines of his joggers. You giggled as he stared dazedly at the ceiling, licking his lips to catch his breath, his big frame slack and helpless as he recovered from the intense orgasm.

"Goddamn, baby...Shit," he groaned.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you stood up and sat back on his lap, welcoming the gentle press of his mouth to yours in a sweet, grateful kiss. “You feel better, Daddy?” you asked.

"Much better. I needed that so much. Thanks, baby," he smiled up at you, his stomach doing flips as you smiled back. He truly was the luckiest man in the world.

“Mm-hmm. Luckily, there’s more where that came from,” you assured him with another kiss before getting to your feet and pulling him up to his. “Come on, Daddy. Let's go home. We got a toddler to take care of. We'll figure out all the other stuff when it's time."

He nodded in agreement and squeezed your hand. “Okay, baby. Home it is.”

A new chapter in your story had been opened tonight, and the path ahead seemed uncertain and even scary. But you both took pride in the fact that as long as you kept writing it together, your love story was going to remain as beautiful as it already was.

But make no mistake about it; Roman Reigns was going to rule the wrestling world again. That was one story that was never going to end.

THE END

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Thoughts? How sappy was this😢Was quite cathartic for me, loved writing it.

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!

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[wakkass]

It's impossible to put into words how much I love designing characters, especially for AU.

Yes, I recently had an avatar AU, and I really wanted to draw Katara from there (and also Zuko). I usually draw a static pose in order to display all the details of the clothes. This is such a kind of character sheet that helps me to better imagine the scenes in my head.

If you're interested in reading about the AU itself, then there will be some information about it.

I apologize in advance for mistakes in the text, English is not my native language. But, I hope, this will not interfere with understanding.

In general, my AU concerns the ending of the series, because at some point it seemed unrealistic to me. There is too much positivity with the obvious problems of the post-military space, as well as little logic in some moments (for example, I don't understand what Zuko was doing in Ba Sing Se. Did he abandon his newfound throne to the mercy of fate with the risk of a palace coup? Did he not feel the effects of a lightning strike? The longer I think about it, the surreal it seems to me).

At some point I thought, "this is all like Aang's dream, in which everything is intentionally good. As if this is the ending he wants, but it's unattainable." And then it dawned on me. But it really looks like his fantasy about the future after defeating the root of evil. This explains why Zuko recovered so easily, why everyone is just relaxing and having fun without a drop of post-trauma. Because Aang wants everything to be so naive and simple after defeating the Fire Lord. Because he's dreaming about it.

I know this is a very hackneyed narrative technique. It's pretty easy to say "this is someone's dream" to deny any events. But I found it curious, especially against the background of the episode "Nightmares and Daydreams", where Aang's dreams already simplified the reality around him. For me, it's like a lead-up to the finale, where he actually sleeps.

You ask, "but why is he sleeping?". I also asked this question, and the answer to it killed me. Because during the battle with Ozai, when the stone hit Aang in the wound, he fell into a coma. His body was paralyzed because his brain perceived it as a repeated lightning strike, again fatal. The avatar's state was the only one that did not allow Aang to die, but only to fall into a coma. And instead of an epic battle, we have a little helpless boy spending a huge amount of energy just to maintain his life.

The second Aang collapsed, he disappeared, leaving Ozai alone with the remnants of his temporary power. And no one else saw the avatar…

I'll leave the intrigue for you about this, but for now I'll tell you about the concepts from the art.

Naturally, everyone searched for Aang, and, naturally, they did not find him. Katara and Zuko were the only ones who did not participate in the search, for several reasons:

Zuko was rehabilitated for a very long time after being struck by lightning, and Katara nursed him (I'm sure there are a lot of fics about this topic. The only difference is that there is no romance here. The focus of my AU is not on it, but on the problems of the consequences of the war). He survived, but he had major problems with his heart, digestive system and spine. Who noticed the cane in his hands? Yes, Zuko couldn't walk without it. From now on and forever. He was physically unable to leave the palace, and Katara maintained at least some of his condition.

Even after Zuko's rehabilitation, it was necessary to keep the power in his hands. Imagine what a shock the Fire Nation experienced when not just the former Fire Lord was overthrown, but the country's policy changed dramatically. Now Zuko needed to keep power in his hands and establish a new regime as soon as possible, before his opponents raised armies and people against him. This boy, who recently sat quietly at a military meeting, needed to show unprecedented strength and power to everyone: both officials sought to turn the situation in their favor, and the people who wanted stability and prosperity. But how to do this if Zuko couldn't even breathe normally, and getting out of bed required tremendous effort? It was impossible… Anyone else would have given up, but not Zuko. He has never given up without a fight and has never turned his back on danger, even if he risks dying.

It hurts me a lot for him, too. Fate has never stopped pushing Zuko against obstacles, but this time he couldn't rely on himself. He almost couldn't bend, his body almost didn't obey. He was an easy target and there was nothing he could do about it. This helplessness irritated him, saddened him, oppressed him. The only thing that wasn't broken yet was his spirit, and Zuko was barely able to maintain it in such conditions. If it wasn't for Katara, I don't know if he would have coped in the end. She was now his only support, his only ally in these cold oppressive walls, the only rational grain in his doubts.

You ask, "Where is Iroh? Where is Mai?"

Iroh, along with the White Lotus, took on a mission to liberate the Earth Kingdom from the Fire Army and establish relations with the kingdom. In fact, Iroh now shared power with Zuko: uncle was engaged in foreign policy so that his nephew could focus on domestic policy.

With Mai, everything was much simpler: after getting out of prison, she was completely disappointed in the guy who always left her. She sent him a letter, where she finally ended their relationship, and left with her family somewhere far away. Perhaps she and Zuko will cross paths again and will be able to establish a relationship. But not now.

Katara remained to help Zuko not only with treatment, but also with his policy. As a resident of an almost disappearing tribe, as well as an able leader, she helped him with projects and plans to improve the quality of life of the population and actively participates in them. She performed those missions that Zuko can only entrust to her. After all, she was a friend he could rely on and to whom he could open his feelings.

In her design, I wanted to reflect the combination of two cultures: Fire and Water. I was based on the designs of the "12 Kingdoms" (if you haven't watched this gorgeous anime or haven't read ranobe, I strongly recommend doing it. This universe is no less interesting than the avatar's world, I'm sure you'll like it), because the palace intrigues and the plot with winning the respect of the court reminds me very much of the story from there.

One day Zuko's legs finally gave up, he could not get up. All the stress he was going through was breaking his body so much that at some point the Katara's treatment stopped working.

It was a very difficult moment for both of them. Zuko has just started to promote his ideas and defend his rights to the throne, and Katara sincerely did not know what to do. If the truth about the true state of the Fire Lord had come out, all the ill-wishers would not leave this opportunity and attack, this couldn't be allowed. They urgently needed to create the appearance that everything is in order, but how?

Zuko came up with a very brazen idea. He asked Katara to use bloodbending on him to simulate walking. It was a very difficult request for her, because this skill represented the worst face of the war, it was created to torture people. And the last thing she wanted was to torment Zuko. She hesitated for a long time, he saw it, but he couldn't wait. He couldn't stop, it wasn't a luxury he could afford. Therefore, he went out, trying not to get up and move much.

Naturally, at some point his weakness was noticed at the most inopportune moment. Naturally, at this moment Katara couldn't let Zuko fall. Imperceptibly under her sleeves, she moved her friend's body like a puppet, causing him as much unbearable pain as most would not stand. But Zuko was not like that. He stood it.

It looked like this to me somehow:

They were both very depressed that day. He was suffering physically because of Katara's bending, and she could not believe that she had caused the suffering of a person dear to her. It broke and scared her, she opened the way to the Hama's madness, and was very afraid to fall into it.

Zuko assured her that it was impossible. Hama didn't have people to guide her, while Katara has friends. Maybe Zuko didn't consider himself the best moral mentor, but he promised to be there in the most difficult moments for Katara, and now he won't leave her.

This encouraged her and opened her eyes to her own cowardice. She was afraid of the darkness of Hama, and instead of curbing it, Katara hid it in herself, ignored it. And that's what it led to: the person who needed her help suffered. But she didn't want to run away anymore. She wasn't going to give up without a fight and turn her back on those who needed her.

At the beginning, Katara trained on herself, experiencing the same pain as the victims of bloodbending. Careless movement of blood through the vessels could cause internal bleeding at any time, it was very dangerous. The Hama's voice in her head pressed on her conscience, saying that innocent people felt all this pain, and only Katara was to blame for this.

Later, she learned to control the flow of water on puppets, like Hama. The point was to pass water through the threads without bursting them. Absolute control was required here, and Zuko taught her the techniques of firebending for self-control. This was necessary for Katara, because the Hama's voice in her head did not subside and did not allow her to correctly distribute her forces. It seemed like Katara was about to stumble, but Zuko wouldn't let her do it.

Gradually, Katara mastered this skill and tried to draw blood on Zuko's legs. The effect was unexpected. Her great willpower and desire to help him resulted in healing. Zuko began to feel his legs, and Katara discovered the reverse side of this bending. No, she didn't heal him completely, it's too early for him to get rid of the cane. But maybe one day she will become so strong that she can do it.

Katara realized that there was no evil magic, there was only evil intent. This was her first step towards learning to look inner demons in the face, and not to hide them in herself when it was possible to hurt others.

But what about the other design?

Katara's father sent her a letter asking her to return. Her family needed her help, because she was the last waterbender, a carrier of culture and skills, as well as a healer of a new level, the daughter of a tribal leader.

At home, everything was not the same as before, moreover, everything taked shape as a Northern Tribe. I really like the idea of the comic "North and South" about the problem of assimilation. Only here has Katara accepted all aspects of its culture, even the most unpleasant ones, and she would not give up so easily when this newfound knowledge was in danger of disappearing.

Actually, I wanted to draw her outfit of this arch. I wanted to redesign the costume for myself, because I like to do it. I kept the front strands of Katara, we don't talk much about them.

I would really like to describe the path of the rest of the team and what they do, of Aang and what happens to him. But I'm already tired of typing, and you probably read.

After all, the post is more about designs, and not about the AU itself, so the goal to reveal some of my ideas has been achieved in principle. Maybe sometime later.

Hope you enjoyed reading this :3

[jungle-angel]

The Apples Of The Teacher's Eyes (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob have a little surprise for your students before the start of school vacation

Tagging: @bobfloydsbabe @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia Helena my dear, you officially have me desperate to write for Teacher!Bob and Teacher!Reader so any time you want a little short story or anything, don't hesitate to ask (lol).

"Alright my evil little henchmen, let's get down to business!" Bob announced, placing a huge, heavy old book onto his desk.

"To defeat the huns!" sang one of the students.

"Don't even start it Callum," Bob warned him. "I already had to hear it from the choir teacher and I don't need to hear it again."

Callum snickered as the students all moved the desks together while Bob fixed the chalkboard drawing he had made as well as the notes for the new lesson block.

"Alright," Bob announced. "So yesterday we wrapped up our studies on Ancient Rome and now we're starting the Vikings. How many of you guys in Mrs. Floyd's literature class started reading the Norse epics?"

Only a few had raised their hands.

"Ok so just a couple of you," Bob mused. "Well, we're gonna start right at the beginning by getting a lay of the land and the geography of the regions in this particular civilization. Then we're gonna get into key figures, battles, events and all that before we get into any kind of literature, music or mythology."

Bob's students couldn't have been more excited. Both him and you knew how to make these things come alive and jump right off the pages. The scratch of the chalk and the hushed whispers of his students were the best parts of his day, second only to coming home to you.

He knocked at the chalkboard with a free finger, his hand still holding the chalk with smears of stray dust coating his fingertips. "Here we go guys," he said. "Lay of the land.....what can you tell? Alonso?"

"Alot of ocean all around so it must've been a seafaring kind of society," Alonso Garcia answered.

"You would be right," Bob pointed out. "Anybody else? Birdy?"

"I remember from our geography main lesson that there were also rivers, fjords and lakes which made boat travel a staple part of life," Birdy O'Connor answered.

"What else? Elen?"

"I noticed too that there's lots of islands that fly off the peninsulas too," answered Elen O'Neill, the curly redheaded girl in the front row.

"All very excellent points," Bob answered. "Twenty points to Gryffindor."

The students laughed a little before Bob continued on with the lesson.

"Now if we remember too," he continued. "People were more likely to settle in and around the sea rather than further inland....."

"With a damn good reason," you joked, poking your head in the door and scaring the ever living shit out of Bob.

"MRS. FLOYD!!!!!" the students shouted.

"SHHHHH!!!" you shushed sharply, holding your finger to your lips. "Do not.....I repeat.....DO NOT wake the baby."

"Oh my Lord you brought the baby?!" Elen gasped.

All of your students clambered to see the little carseat you carried on your arm, carefully moving aside so you could set it on the desks that had been pushed together. Inside was yours and Bob's newborn son, August Robert, who was so tiny he looked like he was being swallowed up by his blanket.

"Oh my God he's so cute!"

"He looks just like Mr. Floyd."

"Look at those little cheeks!"

"Oh my God, I wanna get married so I can have one!"

Bob blushed and bit his knuckles when he heard that out of Elen and so didn't you.

Auggie started to squirm a little, a wakeful little coo making everybody fall quiet as Bob moved to unbuckle him and pick him up. "Shhhh.....shhhh......you're ok.......you're ok," Bob whispered, bringing Auggie carefully to his chest, blanket and all, the baby's whimpering quieting right down as soon as Bob began to gently pat his back.

You and the students couldn't help but take picture after picture on their phones of Bob with the baby, the besotted look on his face making you melt.

"Alright guys, let's get back into it," Bob announced.

"Aw c'mon!" groaned the students as they sat back down.

You laughed a little before Bob kissed you. "You're supposed to be at home resting Mrs. Floyd," he whispered, still gently rocking Auggie in his arms.

"And miss all of this?" you chuckled. "Hell no."

Bob smiled and kissed you again, loving the thought of you sitting in on the main lesson and the ooing and ahhing from the students as he both taught and rocked Auggie at the same time.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

If Chase Yuong and the First Ninja start a fight, who will win in your opinion? Either way, it's going to be epic.

anon ANON thank you. I've been dying to think more about those two in the same context, ever since i realized the similarities of these two idiots i like (greenish hair? martial artist? magical? kinda lived long???) But i've shoved those crossover-ish ideas away since i am busy with other stuff lol. but this gives me an excuse >;)

Ok, if we do NOT take canons in consideration (because lets be truthful, cartoons rarely can give a full scope of a character to our satisfactions lol) so I have 2-3 vague scenarios in which they clash (IMO either of them can win??? (because i like them both, even if i am more of First fan, so I cant decide who of them winning would be more entertaining lol)):

If First Ninja in his prime (sometime after imprisoning Sorcerer but before the Ultimate Lesson) clashed with 700 yo Chase Young (since this fucker is canonically 1500 yo) who would probably try to defeat First in order to make him part of his Jungle Cats harem:

Chase is ridiculously, stupidly overpowered but one could argue that at 700 he hasn't yet reached the height of all his powers, so First would certainly have a fighting chance. First is supposedly uniquely trained since (probably) his birth by his Ninja Clan and continuous battles with the Sorcerer (and most likely other creatures, like Sorceress and Tengu and etc.) throughout his teenage-young adult life to take on enemies like Chase - overpowered magical beings/soulless monsters - with the help of Ninja Mask and all its powers.

Admittingly, in this case the win will most likely go to Chase, if only because of his experience and overwhelming array of powers at his disposal. Though considering we do not know the full scope of Ninja Mask's powers, First has like maybe 15-25% chance to win (and at least 30-45% in my mind if i consider my own hc about the mask lol), but not 0%.

If First Ninja's 800 yo. spirit somehow was released from/embodied by Ninjanomicon to clash with 1500 yo Chase Young in the Modern Present:

Here a lot of my hc come in play. I fully believe that if First - with all the developed abilities, experiences, memories, power (and possibly spirits) acquired during his stay/merge within the Ninjanomicon and from over like 200 people who ever used the mask over 800 years - fought 1500 yo Chase - who spent at least a century or 2 or 3?? hidden away in his Fortress, growing just a bit complacent, since he clearly became too strong and thus bored of the world when it couldn't offer him decent opponents anymore, at least not until current Monks - the fight could go either way.

Chase is still stupidly OP, but its clear that he was deprived of good opponents for a loooooong time, since he resorted to fight against/taunt teenagers and Omi, who is basically a kid still. And they frequently managed to outmanoeuvre him in their confrontations, if not in an actual hand-to-hand fight then at least in common sense lol.

Meanwhile First trained and learned with his each of his successors years in and out, and while we dont know exactly what sort of things happened, we can say for sure that the fighting was continuous. Ninja barely had any rest, for the Sorcerer probably attracted chaos inclined allies and minions and thus a never ending stream of enemies for Ninja to battle.

If basic bitches clash aka OG Good Chase and First Ninja before he was First Ninja:

This is just for fun and because I fully believe that pre-Ninja Mask First will trounce Good Chase. xD

We do not know Chase's past, and there are various headcanons on how he came to be a Xiaolin Monk, but let's just say that judging by his apperance and XS voice, he is probably a very young adult-ish before he drunk his Soup, so he most likely was a Monk since at least his pre-teen/teen years. He appears to be insecure in his Monk-ness and in his abilities to become the greatest warrior despite his competence, since he was swayed/manipulated/convinced? to sell his soul to a demon for more power and freedom from Monk values.

If we judge First's appearance and voice, he would be perhaps a slight bit older than Chase when he became The Ninja, and not to mention since he was born into the Ninja Clan, he was likely trained since he was very young. His personality appears to be very studious and there is certainly a great deal of strength in his character since he not only managed to continue on with his duty even after loosing his brothers but also not succumbing to the overwhelming Power of the Mask that can corrupt those of weak belief and hold the title of the Ninja longer than anyone else.

(Not to mention I am of very biased opinion that Ninjas are cooler than Monks. lol. Also we can assume they all have magic of some sort. Like think Naruto like Ninjas and Xiaolin Elemental Dragons/Monks.)

ALSO in case 1, obviously if they fought with the agreement that if Chase wins he would ABSOLUTELY add First into his Jungle Cat harem. First will most likely add/request a stipulation that Ninja Mask was not taken with First and I can see Chase honoring that agreement, so the Ninja legacy will continue on and Chase still gets an incredible warrior to his ranks, and perhaps more warriors if the future ex-Ninjas would decide to try and fight him later on. ;)

(first's animal form would be either a leopard or iriomote cat (both native to Japan) or a crow because tengu connection/associations ;D )

And if First wins, he certainly would figure out how to contain Chase, (perhaps even in the Ninjanomicon itself hohoho) since he somehow managed to contain a sorcerer that controls chaos with some binding, magic from a mythical beast and in a deep hole that perhaps connected to some dark realm, like??

;)

[bloodyshadow1]

I feel like a big problem with Kristen is that Tracker was correct, she wants to take the easy way out in most things. She (and possibly Ally) has really bad ADHD and that screws up her relationships and the things she has to do. This whole season has been about her over coming that, because not everything is about defeating the big bad, sometimes it's about being in the moment and having to force yourself to be better.

In the beginning of Junior Year, and from previous years, Kristen is a person with a lot of love and her love language seems to be epic acts of love. Getting a tattoo of Tracker to show off her love, willing to storm a monument of High Elf society to save her friend, redeeming Cassandra. These are big acts, the latter being a miracle. The problem for Kristen is that she isn't the protagonist in an epic fantasy novel, she's a pc in a live play dnd show that is an homage to high fantasy and urban fantasy. The show shows more than just the epic battles and miracles. Life is more than just the legendary battles, it's about living the quiet moments too, relationships are too.

I'm similar because I have ADHD and I would drive through the night to see my friends if they need me, but cleaning up my apartment or doing the dishes can be something I put on the back burner. Because for people like me, and Kristen, doing things big for your loved ones is exciting, doing the hard work in between isn't. For someone like Kristen, whose job it is to be an adventurer, doing the miracles is easy compared to the monotonous work that relationships take to maintain and grow stronger.

Because relating to my main point, Kristen wants to take the easy route because the boring hard work is scary. Epic acts happen to her all the time because she is an adventurer, she can perform miracles like it's her job, because it is, but being present in the moment is something she actively runs from. In the beginning of Junior Year, she is actively treating Cassandra like an annoying friend who always wants to hang out instead of a goddess she brought back and is responsible for. She performed the miracle to bring Cassandra back from the dead, but didn't want to spend any time with her or doing anything related to being a prophet of a reborn god.

That's the point she's making now, taking time for Cassandra now that she's gone because she can't change the past, but she can do better in the future

[catpriciousmarjara]

"....and here we have the image of the Terran deity of truth, Eycha-Bomba-ur-Guy, not be confused with the deity Bomb-ur, the god of abundance from the ancient Tolki-eena religion, which predates the Utubar religion entirely. Archeological excavations of the primitive holo-relics of Terra dates the Utubar religion to the two kingdoms period of the Amaz-U-na, and App-le-ple empires, in the Memetiscan era.

As stated before Eycha-Bomba-ur-Guy is a deity of truth and religious texts proclaim that he emerges whenever the principles of truth are violated. The legends we have been able to uncover from the ruins of Terra talks of a well where he is supposed to reside in and that every terran year he appears unexpectedly in order to shame the liars seeking fortune in the Holos of the kingdom of Utuba in a ruthless public sermon.

(Unfortunately we have not been able to uncover physical evidence of the kingdom as of now. Much of the information we have on the Utuba come from the Utuba Com-men-tits, the famous historical document that confirmed the theory that the Utuba people, consisting of the mortal Viu-wah, the priestly Saab-scriba, and godly Cree-atar, recorded history collectively.)

In his endeavor to champion truth Eycha-Bomba-ur-Guy is confronted by many adversaries and we can see how these battles play out in the religious iconography of the period. One of his many opponents is Tomm-y-Tallaar-ico, a rather comical figure who relentlessly takes credit for the achievements of others' and boasts about it throughout Terra. Some scholars believe him to be a fictional figure created to warn children to stay away from lying and boasting, especially because the Utuba Com-men-tits records one of the claims made by the minor deity as his mother being proud of him, which by the very nature of the deity is implied to be a false claim.

(Parental figures and their approval seems to be very important to the Terrans. Scholars have found multiple worshipful holos with terms such as Daddy, Zaddy, Mother, Mommy, and Muscle Mommy as evidence to this theory. Deviant behaviour seems to be referred to as 'Fatherless' behaviour. 'Yo Mamma' statements seem to be considered a damning insult. In addition, the ritualistic chant "Excuse me? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry", which is believed to be the only surviving part of the the lost Litany for Forgiveness, the pair to the Litany against Fear from the Epic of the Dune, validates the theory that Terrans craved parental approval.)

Much more sinister than the Tomm-y-Tallaar-ico is the Jayme-som-Erton, a figure that only talks in the voice of others. A negative deity presiding over plagiarism, Jayme-som-Erton pretends be your ally while making profit off of your work. After Eycha-Bomba-ur-Guy defeated him in a lengthy duel the Utuba Com-men-tits faithfully records that Jayme-som-Erton's own voice can only speak lies and to be wary of the others among the Cree-ator class that use his tricks to prosper in Utuba.

Eycha-Bomba-ur-Guy's legendary victory over Jayme-som-Erton was followed by the complete erasure of the Cree-ator's presence in the Utuba kingdom's religion beyond being used as a cautionary tale. This presents another aspect of Terran religion, called Can-cellat-Ion, a ritualistic deicide of the gods that have wronged them. Undoubtedly this is an evidence of the might of the ancient Terrans. Several pieces of historical evidence from the records known as Twee-et-er (theorized to be named after a blue avian like figure who many believe might be related to the legendary heroes Twee-dle-dee, and Twee-dle-dum) refer to multiple conflicts called the War of the Fans which lead to the Can-cellat-Ion being performed. Ancient Terrans were indeed a fearsome species. (To be noted that some deities do recover while others do not. Criteria for survival unknown.)

In the coming chapters, we'll look into more deities from Terra's various pantheons, such as the eternal enmity between the Goddess Doll-y-Par-tonn and her nemesis Jol-e-Ne. The deity Trish-a-Payt-As, whose children are harbingers for the death of malignant royals is also important to look into. The deity seems to have had hostility towards the Brie-ti-ish royals specifically as legends say they were hit twice by the deity's wrath. Also of particular interest are Ea-Nasir, a deity of trickery and mischief, and ancient literature such as the Gonch-ar-Ov, a lost epic saga whose holo-copy researchers are still trying to uncover today. Both of these are a part of the Tumb-L-Er mystery religion, whose intricate rites and rituals still remain too complex to decode...."

-Excerpt from Chapter 9, "Deities from the Holo", from Scholar Jaarp-r-Saar's The Complexities of Terran Religions.