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Not all heroes wear capes.

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ermac keeper of grief…

here is a being full of souls. full of lost life. full of longing and anger and despair and yearning. ermac is full of emotions bound by the dead while he himself must be the one to keep these souls at bay. ermac- a being who has never known loss or anger or despair must know what emotions are because he is built by those emotions.

and to think he holds so much of kitana’s grief… he aided in guiding the dead liu kang’s spirit to reuniting with her once more (and while aiding liu kang could he feel the grief of liu kang? the violation and shock at his corpse forced to so much damage? was he also keeper of liu kang’s grief?) and he holds jerrod’s soul in him. the man who influenced kitana’s rebellion against shao kahn and the man who is kitana’s true father- both good beings in contrast to kitana’s darker upbringing as her adoptive parent’s favorite child and both good beings held within ermac.

and to think about how ermac stuck by mileena during the events of the mkx comics… how jerrod was so close to mileena. i can’t help but wonder was ermac just so slightly influenced by jerrod to stick with mileena?

ermac who is built by so many emotions and has connections to so many people- who is a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a lover, and etc. to so many people. he is a keeper of grief when he himself has no grief. he is the passage of communication for so many. ermac- as one- keeps himself- the many- from falling ill to the destruction of grief.

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Kenmac my beloved :3 ♥

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Another quick drawing. I just realized i have never drawing Ermac before.

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Let me introduce you to the sillies <333

They're getting ready for their next battle~

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Hands down the best Mortal Kombat character!!

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Lessons in Edenian

Ermac takes on the task of teaching Erron Black Edenian, but Erron turns the lessons into a playful game, intentionally mispronouncing words with hidden confessions of love. --- Inspired from The Intricate Markings Of Outworld by @RiverCat4u Chapter 12: The Realm's Tongues (And What Is Not) I hope you don't mind~

The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of Outworld, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard where Erron Black and Ermac found themselves. The sky above was a bruised canvas of purples and oranges, the dying light setting fire to the clouds. In the midst of this, they sat in a secluded alcove of Kotal Kahn’s fortress, the walls surrounding them offering a rare sense of privacy.

Ermac had offered to teach Erron Black how to speak Edenian, a language of elegance and nuance that Ermac insisted might prove useful in their missions. “It may come in handy one day,” he reasoned, his voice a low rumble that resonated with the whispers of countless souls. But in truth, both knew this was just an excuse. A welcome distraction from the chaos that defined their lives in Outworld—a flimsy pretense to spend time together away from the blood and the battles.

Erron leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the table, his ever-present smirk playing at his lips. The soft flicker of torchlight danced across his rugged features, highlighting the perpetual shadow of stubble on his jaw. He regarded Ermac with a lazy, yet sharp gaze, waiting for the lesson to begin.

Ermac, ever the patient tutor, stood across from him with his hands clasped behind his back, his ethereal green aura casting a gentle glow in the dimming light. “Alright, Erron, repeat after us: ‘I am here to assist you, ’” he instructed, his tone calm and measured.

Erron drawled out a butchered version of the phrase, his thick Texan accent twisting the delicate syllables beyond recognition. “Am ‘ere to ass-sist ya, ” he drawled, letting the words drip off his tongue like molasses.

Ermac’s eyes narrowed, the souls within him collectively sighing. “No, no... It is ‘I am here to assist you, ’” he corrected, enunciating each word with a meticulous precision that only made Erron’s grin widen.

Weeks passed, and despite Ermac’s best efforts, Erron’s progress remained bafflingly slow. The gunslinger seemed to take a perverse pleasure in mispronouncing words, twisting the beautiful flow of Edenian into something harsh and unrefined. It was almost as if he were sabotaging the lessons on purpose. Ermac could only furrow his brow in confusion as Erron continued to massacre even the simplest phrases.

The lessons dragged on, the air between them thick with the unspoken tension that Erron seemed determined to stoke. And then, one evening, Erron struck a deal with him. “I’ll learn proper if ya join me for a drink after,” he proposed, a sly grin stretching across his lips.

Ermac tilted his head, considering the offer. “If that is what it takes to improve your grasp of our language, then... we accept.”

What followed was a strange transformation. Erron, who had previously stumbled over the language like a newborn fawn on unsteady legs, suddenly began speaking with a fluency that bordered on the miraculous. After a few shots of potent Outworld ale, he seemed to transform into a veritable Edenian scholar.

“Must be the liquor, partner,” Erron had drawled with a lazy grin when Ermac demanded an explanation. The construct narrowed his glowing eyes, suspicion burning in the depths of his stare, but agreed to continue the lessons over drinks.

As the lessons continued, Ermac began to notice a peculiar pattern in Erron’s newfound fluency. Despite his sudden improvement, the gunslinger’s sentences were peppered with strange mistakes. During one of their sessions, as they practiced sentences describing the castle’s opulent decorations, Ermac pointed to an elaborate tapestry. “Describe this painting,” he instructed.

Erron glanced at the artwork with feigned contemplation, then turned to Ermac, his eyes alight with mischief. “You are very precious, ” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky drawl.

Ermac blinked, taken aback. “No, the phrase is ‘it is very precious, ’” he corrected, though he felt a peculiar flutter in his chest—a sensation he could not quite place. The souls within him stirred, whispering, questioning. Was that... intentional?

The slip-ups only grew more frequent, each one more perplexing than the last. Another time, when asked to describe the coldness of a stormy night, Erron looked directly into Ermac’s eyes and said, “You feel warm. ”

Ermac’s brow furrowed, his gaze narrowing. “We believe you meant to say ‘it feels cold, ’” he corrected, his voice faltering ever so slightly. But the way Erron’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile left him unsettled in ways he could not articulate. The construct found himself dreading these lessons, each phrase a carefully laid trap that left him reeling, confused, and... curious.

It wasn’t just the words that rattled him; it was the way Erron looked at him. Those heated stares, the subtle tilt of his head, the confident grin that spoke of secrets Ermac was desperate yet terrified to uncover. He felt the tension crackle between them like a gathering storm, threatening to break at any moment.

The breaking point came one night during a particularly tense lesson. Ermac was attempting to teach Erron how to express gratitude. “Repeat after us: ‘I appreciate your help, ’” he instructed, his voice as steady as he could manage.

But instead of complying, Erron leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. In flawless Edenian, he said, “I can’t imagine a life without you. ”

The world seemed to stop, the air itself holding its breath. Ermac stared, wide-eyed, his multitude of souls momentarily silenced. “W-We believe... we should cease these lessons... as they appear to be going nowhere,” he stammered, turning away, desperate to escape the intensity of Erron’s gaze.

Erron’s smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of hurt and frustration. “Are ya serious, Ermac?” he asked, his voice sharp, raw. “All this time, I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya... and you still don’t get it?”

Ermac turned slowly, confusion etched into his features. “Get what?”

Erron ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged beast. “I’ve been hintin’ at it for months, damn it! All those phrases... they weren’t just mistakes, they were me tryin’ to tell ya how I feel.”

He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper so soft it was almost drowned out by the crackle of the torches. “I love you, Ermac, ” he confessed, switching to perfect Edenian. “What about that don’t you understand?”

For a moment, silence reigned, the weight of the confession hanging heavy between them. “We... did not realize,” Ermac whispered, his voice breaking. “Your words... they stirred something within us... something we do not comprehend.”

Erron stepped forward, closing the distance between them with a gentleness that was at odds with his rough exterior. “That’s alright, sugar,” he said softly. “We’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out.”

Erron cupped Ermac’s chin, his touch both tender and grounding. He leaned in, capturing the construct’s lips in a soft, tentative kiss. Ermac stiffened, but then, slowly, he began to melt into the embrace. It was like nothing he’d ever felt—warmth and electricity all at once, a fusion of fire and ice that left him breathless.

Later that night, as they lay beneath the alien sky of Outworld, the stars a scattering of diamonds against a velvet backdrop, Ermac turned to Erron, his eyes searching. “Erron... did you truly struggle with our language, or were you... toying with us all this time?”

Erron let out a deep, rumbling laugh, the sound reverberating through the quiet night. “Aw hell, ya caught me,” he admitted, tipping his hat back with a roguish grin. “Truth is, I’ve been speakin’ Edenian for longer than you’ve been teachin’ me. Just liked seein’ that cute confused look on your face.”

Ermac could only stare in disbelief, his multitude of souls protesting at once. “You... you insufferable scoundrel,” he breathed, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings.

Erron leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Ermac’s mouth. “And ya love me for it,” he murmured, his voice a low, affectionate drawl.

Ermac’s gaze softened, and for the first time in centuries, he allowed himself to fully embrace the strange, wonderful feelings Erron had awakened within him. “Perhaps we do,” he whispered back, capturing Erron’s lips in a kiss that sealed the beginning of something new—something that neither the chaos of Outworld nor the battles of their past could ever take from them.

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I've seen far worse fucking ships in the MK fandom. Case in point, some clown on FF.net regularly posts explicit Cassie/Sonya fics. I want to spray my screen with Lysol whenever I come across them. Erron/KJ is nothing in comparison.

And stealing someone's artwork and defacing it like that...NOT cool.

Lastly, the MK community on Reddit is pretty horrible in itself. It's literally nothing but negativity or "MUH PICK FOR NEXT GUEST CHARACTURRR" nonsense. Ughh.

My first post is a hot take. I know many people will disagree but here's a little fact for you. Erron Back/Kung Jin or ErronJin us not normal. It's an abusive mess.

Kung Jin is a KID. So isn't it also a pedophilic? No, the fact that he's 18 years old doesn't count. How old is he? We can't say. He's a lot younger than Erron.

Also let's not forget about what an asshole Erron is. An abusive person with dirty mouth.

Another thing is tgat Jin is a fucking gay. Erron Black interested only in women and sexuality.

So PLEASE stop!!! IT'S NOT OK. Are you fucking sick people?!

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Welcome back, shockapella-sweet!!

Thank you! Just popping in and out, still taking a break from Tumblr at the moment. ^-^;;

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After Dark needs to make a fucking comeback.

After Dark - Meadow

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Friendly reminder that Fred and George literally tried to murder another student for trying to take House points from them

Like I know we apparently don't give a damn about NPCs in Harry Potter, but it's insane to me how no one acknowledges how fucking vile the Weasley twins were

(unrelated but it's also very funny how self-righteous Fred and George acted over Percy being a "git" and how they were convinced of their own moral superiority because they were on the good side, when I'm convinced Percy would never have done something so horrible)

Same goes for Harry and Ron mind you. The level of apathy and cruelty they demonstrate is CRAZY like they legit do not give a fuck. And yeah, I wasn't much better than them as a teenager when it came to people I didn't like, but surely that is something that should be addressed by the narrative?? By anyone? Hermione gets like 0,5 brownie point for suggesting that maybe they should tell someone (YES??) but considering she does jackshit about it that doesn't exactly endear her to me

Despite how many times Slytherin is said to be the evil house while Rowling glorifies the Gryffindor House (and she absolutely does, there are many examples in the books), the murder attempts between the two houses have been pretty one-sided (Fred&George to Montague and Sirius to Snape, not to mention the Weasley twins and Sirius were both 100% unapologetic.

Edit: yes, I was intentionally and graciously omitting Harry's attempt towards Draco in HP6 because even though using an unknown spell was unbelievably stupid, Harry had no idea Sectumsempra would do that and he felt awful about it + Draco did try to Crucio him. I'm watching you, though, Harry. You got over it a lil' too quickly when Ginny defended you.)

Well, Crabbe did try to kill the trio in HP7 , though 1) it was in the context of the war, they weren't exactly students anymore, but most importantly 2) the event is treated with the appropriate amount of horror for the situation

I think it's really fucked up that no one seems to find it a problem or even remember it but hey that's just me!

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The Visionaries Gallery - Darkling Lord Cindarr By NathanRosario

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Woke Kombat???!?!!

stupid late messy badly meme redraw that probably people have already done before

Happy pride month, guys <3

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Emergency rooms suck.

Vertigo sucks even worse with the strength of a thousand goddamn suns.

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KAT GIORDANO

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Greetings, programs! The Always zine is out now on our itch.io page!

Donations are not required to download the zine, but any amount is greatly appreciated. All contributions will be donated to Girls Who Code in Cindy Morgan’s name.

Thank you so much to everyone who supported this project, whether you sent in a piece or helped spread the word. We are incredibly grateful for the outpouring of love you’ve shown for Cindy, and this zine would not be possible without you. We hope you love the final product as much as we do. 💙