#just to drive home like. this was the goal. you are here to destroy the reapers. if you can’t get enough power to do so?

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Twenty-Three

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3k

Khuzdul: kunbûna - bitch

Afsêl mê, kunbûnaul -fuck you, you son of a bitch

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @lathalea

@xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically

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@way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep @night-ace

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

“Well, you seem chipper.”

Thorin smiled as Dís came into the Great Hall, where he sat sipping tea after finishing breakfast. “A good morning to you as well, Dís.”

She drew out the chair next to his and sank into it. “Dare I ask why you are in such a good mood this morning? I went to pay Elisin a visit before breakfast, but she was not in her chambers, which leads me to wonder if she is in as chipper a mood as you?”

“I cannot possibly answer that, as she’s not been in my chambers as all, if that is what you’re intimating.”

Dís’ smile faded. “She hasn’t?”

“No. Did you think she had?”

“I did, indeed. And while I should not condone it, seeing you almost cheerful would help me overlook any indiscretions.”

He chuckled softly. “I hate to burst your bubble, little sister, but I did not spend the night with Elisin.”

Dís’ eyes narrowed. “You are still far too cheery to have been alone.”

“I never said I was alone, did I?” He lifted his tea cup to his lips, drew a sip, then lowered it to add, “I simply was not with Elisin.”

“Thorin!”

“What?” He set the cup down and propped an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his fist. “Should I lie and say I was alone?”

“Well… it’s none of my business, really.”

“No,” he nodded, “it isn’t, but we both know that you have a rather difficult time with minding your own matters instead of mine, so I’ll humor you right now. So, you might as well ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“With whom I spent the night. I know it’s driving you mad.”

A hint of blush stained her cheeks and at first, she said nothing, but then, with a soft sigh, she nodded. “It is.”

“I know. And if it will put your mind at ease before I confess my deep, dark secret, just know, I fully intend to ask her for her hand.”

“Elisin?”’

“No. The woman with whom I spent last eve.”

Dís’ blush deepened. “Thorin.”

“What? I do.”

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Nina. And she is the mercenary who traveled with us from Rivendell.”

“The woman in the infirmary? Your mystery mercenary?” Dís’ eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline, they jumped so high. “But… she is of Man!”

“Yes,” he nodded, lifting his cup once more, “I am well aware of that.”

“And you—” she leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper, “slept with her?”

He brought the cup to his lips, then nodded, and bit back his own laughter as her jaw actually went slack. It was the first time he could recall seeing his sister utterly speechless, the sight something he wished to savor as long as he could. 

“Thorin!”

“What?” He lowered the cup. “She saved my life. More than once.”

“So you thought you’d repay her by sleeping with her?”

“No, don’t be silly. But, I’ve come to know her—and don't look at me like that, you know what I mean—and in the process… I’ve fallen in love with her, Dís. I wish to marry her.”

The look of shock mixed with hints of horror slowly faded from her face. “You love her? Truly?”

He nodded. “I do. Truly.”

“And she loves you back?”

“She does.”

“And Elisin knows?”

“No.” He shook his head slowly, tracing his forefinger about the rim of his cup. “I’ve not spoken to her yet. That comes next.”

“Save yourself the trouble, Thorin, for I know about you and the whore.”

Both he and Dís jumped at the sound of Elisin’s voice and he twisted to see her standing behind them, in the doorway. He swallowed hard at the cold fury etched into every line of her face, into the icy darkness of her eyes. “Elisin.”

“You were with her last eve, weren’t you?” She came into the Great Hall. “And she opened her legs for you, didn't she? Right in Narnerra’s infirmary. Where anyone might have happened upon you!”

“Elisin, why don't I fetch us more tea and we can talk this out?” Dís asked softly, looking from him to Elisin.

“I don't want any tea.” Elisin’s gaze remained locked on him. “I want to know why you debased yourself with her, Thorin? I would have welcomed you into my bed and yet you gave no indication of even being interested in that, but somehow, that kunbûna—”

“Enough,” he growled, rising from his chair to move and catch her by the elbow, “and this is not the place for this.”

As he spoke, he steered her away from the Great Hall, where they were already garnering looks, and out in to the corridor, where he faced her. “You will take care with what you say where Miss Carren is concerned.”

Every last bit of Elision’s bravado faltered then, her eyes filling with tears. “So, it’s true, then? You spent last night in her company? Tell me, were you plowing her?”

His gut tightened. “We are not discussing this.”

“We don't have to,” she told him softly, her lips now trembling. “You’ve spoken volumes without saying a single word. But, if you will, be honest with me, Thorin. This… this woman, do you love her?”

He held her stare for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “I do, yes. But know this, I did not intend for it to happen. In fact, I tried to tell myself it wasn't happening.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, “But I was lying to myself, Elisin. And I cannot continue to do so.”

“You should have been honest with me.”

“I should have and I apologize that I wasn’t, but it snuck up on me. As I said, I did not intend to fall in love with her. It simply… happened.”

She pressed her lips together for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “It’s about time you’re being honest with me, you know.”

“I apologize if I hurt you, Elisin, for that was never my intention.”

“Never your in—tell me, what would have happened, had that har—had she—not come back here? Would you have simply let me believe you cared about me? Would you have lied to both of us for the next hundred years?”

A hint of shame warmed his insides. “I cannot say, since it did not go that way. I tried to ignore what I felt for Nina, what I feel for her, but I can do so no longer.” He drew in a deep breath, choosing his next words as carefully as he could, “in time, I hope you will not only understand but forgive me. I did not set out to hurt you, as I said.”

“And yet, you let me believe you felt something for me, all the while you pined for another.” She shook her head, her eyes going cold as fury crept into her voice. “You are a coward, do you know that? A coward and a fool. There is no way anyone here will accept that kunbûna as their queen and I cannot blame them. She is of Man and is not fit to wipe your boots. It’s only too bad that by the time you figure that out for yourself, it will be too late.”

“I think it would be best if you left, Elisin. Go back to Ered Luin, back to your life, as you are no longer welcome here.”

“I would have made a fine queen,” she told him. “And you are only too stupid to see it. Too busy thinking with your co—”

“Enough,” he growled, his patience gone. “I did not expect you to be happy about this, but I did expect you to be civil about it.”

“Civil? You’ve been lying to me the entire time I was here, Thorin. You’ve nerve, you know and plenty of it.” She stepped away from him. “And I hope you and her are very happy together and you have the life you deserve.” 

Her eyes narrowed as she added, “Afsêl mê, kunbûnaul.”  

He said nothing, and she did not wait to see if he would, but instead whipped about and stormed off down the corridor. He remained where he was, watching her until she rounded the corner and disappeared from view. As they’d known each other for so long and had been friends up until just now, he’d thought he’d feel some sense of remorse, of regret, over what happened. But truth be told, all he felt was a sense of freedom, as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But at the same time, a hint of concern wove into that freedom and he could only hope Elisin would take her leave of Erebor without any further incident.

****

“Where have you been?”

Although Nina expected Sigrid to have been worried, she didn't expect the anger flashing in her dark eyes or the fury in her voice. Nina’s shoulder and side let her know what they thought about her trek from Erebor to Dale, and so she moved past her roommate, saying, “I had not planned on disappearing, Sig. It was unforeseen.”

‘Unforeseen?” Sigrid closed the door behind her. “Where were you, though? What happened? I was worried sick for you.”

Nina crossed over to the sofa and sank onto it with a sigh. “I was taking out the night’s rubbish and I saw… Thorin Oakenshield on the road back to Erebor. He was about to set upon by orcs and—”

“The dwarf king?”

Nina nodded. “The very same.”

“You know him?”

“I know him well, Sigrid. I offered him my services, as a bodyguard of sorts before you get any ideas, outside of Rivendell and traveled with him from there to Mirkwood. We had a parting of ways there until he came into the tavern the other night.”

“You never said you knew him. Did you know him when he and his Company came through here before Smaug?”

Nina shook her head slowly. “I wish, but no. Anyway,” she brought her hand to her shoulder, which ached almost as much as her side, “I saw him and them and couldn't let him be ambushed, so I helped him and took a blade for my trouble. Thorin brought me to the healer in Erebor and that is where I’ve been.”

“In Erebor.”

“In Erebor.”

“With dwarves.”

Nina nodded. “Well, with one dwarf.”

“Wait… what do you mean, with one dwarf?”

Nina just stared at her for a long moment, and then bit back a smile as a hint of a blush swept through Sigrid’s otherwise fair cheeks. “Nina!”

“What? I said nothing.”

“You did not.”

“Did not what?”

“With Thorin?”

“Sigrid,” Nina bit back her laugh at the look of utter shock on Sigrid’s face, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh my—” Sigrid clapped her hands against her face. “You slept with him?”

Nina grinned then and slowly nodded. “I did and it was amazing, Sig. He is amazing.”

“Oh… oh, my…” Sigrid lowered her hands, then sank on to the sofa as well. “How does that even happen?”

“It happened in Mirkwood the first time. And I cannot say how, because it just… happened.” Nina sighed softly, the memory of that first night with Thorin so very sweet in her mind and she hugged it to her heart as tightly as she could. “And I fell in love with him that night, Sig.”

“In love with him? Have you gone mad, Nina? The only thing dwarves love is gold and you slept with him? Why would you do something so foolish?”

“It wasn't foolish and you don’t know him,” Nina told her softly, shaking her head. “He but passed through Esgaroth, and it was not his intention to unleash Smaug upon us, so please, don't let that color your view of him.

“I’ve come to know him. He is stubborn and loud and proud, but he’s also sweet and gentle and loving.” She shrugged and shook her head again. “And I think he has no idea just what he has to offer, that he is so much more than he thinks he is, and he is a fine leader and his people rightfully love him.”

“Nina, do you truly believe that? You know what he did. You know what he cost you. Cost me. Cost all of us.”

“I know,” she met Sigrid’s hard stare, shaking her head, “but I also know him now. And I know that he never once intended for Esgaroth to pay so steep a price for his quest.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. And I know that you think otherwise, but you also don't know him. At least, not as I do.”

“No, I won’t argue there. I don't know him.”

“Exactly.”

“But,” Sigrid broke in softly, “I know what he caused.”

Nina bit back a sigh. “Yes, I know and so do I. But, I also know that Esgaroth’s destruction was the last thing he’d thought would happen. And he’s making good on his word now, so that’s got to mean something, don't you think?”

Sigrid didn't look at all convinced. “But, Nina… he’s… he’s their king.”

“I know.”

“So, is there a future in it?”

“I hope so.”

“Does he?”

She nodded slowly. “He loves me, Sig. And I know that sounds so trite and silly, but he does. I know he does.”

“So, where is he, then?”

“He’ll be here later.” Nina scowled as Sigrid offered up a long look at that. “He will. I trust him.”

“We all trusted him, Nina,” Sigrid replied softly. “And he lied to our faces. I hope your trust in him this time was not misguided.”

“It wasn’t. I am no fool, Sigrid. I traveled with him from Rivendell to Mirkwood and trust me, I’d come to know him well before I even kissed him for the first time.”

“And if he does not show?”

“He will.” 

“I hope so. For your sake.”

“Have faith, Sig. He will.”

“You don’t know that.”

Irritation welled within Nina’s gut. Sigrid meant well, and she had ever right to be skeptical, but she did not know Thorin. At least, not the way Nina knew him and she knew she could trust him. “I do. You are the one who doesn’t know it or him, at least, not as I do, so let’s assume I know of which I speak, shall we?”

She didn't wait for Sigrid’s reply, but pushed up from the sofa and stalked from the sitting room to her own small bedchamber. She couldn't fault Sigrid her suspicion, but that didn't mean she couldn’t be irritated by it just the same. After all, she knew Thorin, Sigrid did not. 

A few minutes passed, then there came a soft rap on the door and Sigrid said, “Nina, may I come in?”

“I suppose.”

The door swung open with a hint of a creak and Sigrid stood on the far side of the threshold, looking contrite. “I don't like when we have words, Ni. And I want nothing but true love and happiness for you, you know that, don't you?”

“I do, yes.”

“So, understand, I doubt him not because I think you are too stupid to, but because I am able to see the whole picture without any emotion coloring it.”

That irritation flared in Nina’s gut once more, and she swallowed hard against it. “Sigrid, I don’t—”

Sigrid held up a hand. “I’m not finished. I know you fancied him when he and his Company first appeared in Erebor. I overheard you and Lenna giggling about him that night, at the Master’s, when they were arrested for breaking into the armory. And I’m just afraid… I mean…” Her forehead creased and her eyes held deep concern. “You’re alone in the world and that might make you more vulnerable, more ready to forgive. But remember what happened and why you’re alone.”

“I was alone,” Nina replied slowly, nodding even as she worried the faded blue and yellow quilt covering her bed. “But, I’m not now and haven’t been for some time now. And believe me, I do remember. I’ll never forget. But, you should know something, Sig, about why I joined Thorin.”

Sigrid’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I joined him not because of some silly girlhood fancy.” Nina looked up and met her gaze. “I joined him specifically with the goal of killing him.”

Sigrid stared at her for a long moment, mouth as wide as her eyes. Then, she breathed, “You what?”

“You heard me,” Nina replied. “There is a bounty on his head, one placed there by Azog the Defiler. And I initially intended to claim that bounty by bringing Tarog of Gundabad Thorin’s head.”

“So, wait… sleeping with him was a—a ruse?”

Nina couldn't help her grin at the utter horror in Sigrid’s voice and with a chuckle, shook her head. “No. Offering my services as a guard was the ruse. Sleeping with him just, as I said, happened.”

“How much is he worth?”

“To Tarog? Five thousand in gold. To me?” Nina shrugged. “There is no price high enough to describe it. I love him, Sig. I’m not going to harm him. I don't have it in me any longer. The anger, the hatred, the desire to end his life? They’ve all fled. Life is too short to be so angry all the time. Not when I can be happy. And Mama, Lenna, Rhys—they wouldn’t want me living with hatred and revenge in mind. Lenna would be tickled to know I’d won the heart of the very dwarf she thought would never notice me.”

“Does Thorin know this?”

“He does. It took him some time to process it, to work through what he rightfully saw as my betrayal, but it’s a funny thing, Sig, he’s seen as much misery and death as I have and I think… I think he feels love is preferable as well. Remember how he was when they came through Esgaroth? Angry and arrogant and focused only on reclaiming that blasted mountain. Now, he smiles. He laughs. I think he’s come to the same conclusion as I have. And don’t worry. He will be here in a bit.”

“I hope so.”

“He will. You’ll see.”

#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here? #Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

[quietwingsinthesky]

the thing about mass effect 3 is that if they’d just ended it with Shepard and Anderson sitting side by side and then it choosing your ending for you based on how many war assets you had, people wouldn’t have been half as pissed as they were

#like sure some still would have been mad but I think people would have been mad no matter the ending #simply because no ending could ever match up to the one people write in their heads #but like fundamentally. the problem with me3’s ending is that you Have your big emotional climax with Anderson #you beat the illusive man. Anderson dies. and then you have to Keep Going after that #(like. as much as I do kind of love the way Shepard gives fucking Everything in that moment and is beaten all to shit and yet Still Gets Up. #in execution it leaves a little to be desired.) #so like you’re fresh off the high of the illusive man/Anderson confrontation and they hit you with boom random starchild. exposition dump. #like the fact that there are those three (technically four) endings to me3? not really that big of a deal. should they be more nuanced? yes. #but come on. EA. it was never happening. #so like. without adding anything to the endings themselves. if you took away that final choice. if you emphasized them being Results. #I think that would fix a lot of things. #(also personal note but I’d reorder them by war assets needed. with control requiring the least. synthesis in the middle. #destroy needing the most. with destroy + Shepard living requiring All You Can Get. #just to drive home like. this was the goal. you are here to destroy the reapers. if you can’t get enough power to do so? #you will become like the illusive man. like saren. you will wield a power you do not understand and leave the ending in suspense of whether #Shepard is really the one in control. but with destroy? that’s it. you fucking did it. you won. take a nap Shepard. you won.) #(and okay I said no adding anything but final final note? if you get the Most War Asssets? edi & the geth should live. #like. okay listen. renegade playthrough should be able to get the war assets needed for Destroy + Shepard living easy. #but paragon should be harder. should take work. you can get there but you’ll struggle to remain true to your code. right? #but it is also only paragon that should be able to get those extra bits of war assets that allow for the Geth + EDI living ending. #because a renegade Shepard wouldn’t share that goal. they are ruthless. they win and they got the job done and the cost was worth it. #paragon is no man left behind. idk I’m rambling. I just wanted edi & the geth to live. I think it spits in the face of the whole point #of the geth & quarian part of me3 that the geth don’t survive destroy. like. god maybe give Shepard an option to go ‘hey legion implanting #every geth with reaper tech seems sketchy? you sure about that?’ like we could have at least had that lmao. idk. idk. #I guess that’s what synthesis is. going for? kind of? but then it misses the mark by nullifying the conflict of organica and synthetics that #makes their chosen cooperation so meaningful to begin with.) #okay nooow I’m done I swear. sorry. I’m tired. #mass effect

[hearts4chriss]

Princess.

bad boy! Chris x nerd! Poc reader

prompt: Chris notices you, just a regular girl, pretty nerd, focused on her studies and nothing else, Chris has this attraction to you, his goal is to get ur attention and absolutely destroy you and ur innocence all together, a school project just might be his trick

inspired by: @luv4kozume my mama and talented queen go read her shit now

Part 7

warnings: reader is on BC!! overstimulation, rough sex ( p in v ), degrading, hair pulling, use of pet names ( good girl, sweetheart, baby ), ass slapping, teasing, manipulation ??, aftercare tho!!

“Fucking hell” I say to myself, I had a project with the nerd. Now ur probably like “Chris she’s just a nerd come on” She’s not ur regular nerd, she’s just innocent as shit, never had sex, never received head or pleasure from anyone focussed on her studies but I’ve heard her talk to her friends, she’s got a dirty mouth one i'd love to put to good use.

the second we got assigned partners for a chemistry project a smirk curved across my lips. I see her turn back to me and give me an innocent welcoming smile. fuck that was enough to make cum in my pants. the way her clear glasses sit on her cute little nose, her plump lips with a layer of gloss on them. and damn that uniform on her.

the way her skirt rides up when she sits down allowing me to get a good look at her ass, I see her light purple panties from here just a bit. Nobody else was looking at her, more focused on the basic ass bitches whose asses were purposely exposed. whores.

Fuck I couldn't take my eyes off her, the way she pulled her skirt down in the back, she could bare the fact the school's skirts were so short her ass was poking out. Her stockings climb up her thighs and her dress shoes dangle off her feet, the blazer fits perfectly around her skirt, and the white button-up shirt school rules top two buttons for all girls must be undone, Fuck- her tits sat so perfectly in it,

And then shit don't get me started on the tie. I've always pictured me putting mine around her pulling it as I fucked her. She was so damn innocent, the way she'd look back every now and then to see me because we were partners and give me that same smile innocent smile, as I was thinking about ruining her pussy. The only thing stopping me was the fact we were in class, but shit- I swear when I have her alone I was gonna fuck her so good, ruin her innocence entirely.

Eventually class was over and so was school, which meant It was about to just us.

Your Pov now

I got up from my seat and made my way out of class to wait for chris, I readjust my glasses and apply some more lip gloss.

The boy walks out and I give him a small smile and he gives me a smirk looking down at me and biting his lip, I just shrug it off and he opens his car door for me and we start driving back to his house

"Are you excited about our project Chris?" I asked him softly trying to kill the silence

Fuck her voice, it was so soft and sweet. just imaging her moaning was even better, I let out a soft groan feeling my dick press against my pants before I respond to her.

“Oh yeah for sure I cant wait.” to fuck ur brains out till you can't take it anymore.

We arrived at his house and we walked inside and his parents weren't home so he offered to work in his room and I nodded and we walked. upstairs into it and sat on his bed.

I smiled and took my computer out and laid on my stomach and began to start a slide show.

Fuck- does she know what she's doing? I felt my dick get even harder a small wet spot appearing on my pants.

I sat and watched this hot nerd on my bed and realized.

We were not gonna get anything done tonight.

I began to un do my belt and slip my pants and boxers down, I tossed my blazer on the floor and my shirt and tie approaching her.

I slowly lifted up her skirt and pull her light purple panties down staring at her bare ass, she had no idea. Fuck the surprise she was in for.

I press my dick against her sliding into her as she let out a moan fuck she was so tight.

“Chris- wh- o-oh god”- she moaned, it rang in my ears.

“is this okay?” I asked, I wanted to make sure she was okay with what I was about to do to her.

“mmph- y-yes- she stutters” I could hear her struggling it was pretty cute.

I took her skirt off and blazer allowing me to grip her hips and thrust in her quickly, her moans growing louder as I moved her computer to my nightstand.

“Ur pussy's so tight baby fuck-“ I groan as her wetness coated my dick allowing me to start pounding into her, her moans got louder as she moans my name and fuck did it turn me.

“Fuck c'mere-“I say impatiently arching her back and pushing her face into the pillow before pounding into her again.

“C-chris o-oh god-“ she cries out gripping my sheets as I saw her glasses fogging up from her heavy breathing, I knew this was probably a lot for her but I was dying to fuck her.

My hips snapping with hers sounded euphoric as she cried out my name, I did what she least expected.

I pulled her hair and thrusted into her harshly my hips snapped harshly on her ass and she squealed at the sudden roughness.

“Oh God- I-chris-“ She cries out and I decide to opt for slower and deep thrusts knocking the wind out of her lunges.

“Not so innocent now are you sweetheart.” I said with a smirk getting impatient at the pace so I shoved her face into the pillow starting to pound in her again the moans and heavy breathing of this innocent girl grew louder again.

“Shit shit shit-“ curses leave her mouth and I chuckle darkly

“hm, you've got a dirty mouth, don't you?” I whisper into her ear and she moans in response, she sounds so beautiful like this.

she fits so snug around me. I felt her squeeze tightly around my dick and I groan in response at how quickly I was about to make her cum and me as well as I twitch inside her.

“You on the pill baby?” I asked her and she nodded and I pull her hair roughly

“Use ur words princess.” I say still pounding into her.

“I-I-am- f-fuck-“ she stutters out and moans my lips curling into a playful smile.

“Good girl, you can cum now.l I say as I harshly snap my hips feeling her cum on my cock and I release inside of her.

I pulled out watching our cum drip out of her pussy thats when I realized, I was nowhere near finished with her.

“On ur stomach for me?” i asked her and she immediately complied.

I unbottoned her shirt leaving her tie on seeing her fully naked wearing just a tie makes my dick perk up again.

I slap my tip on her folds and she whimpered.

I spread her legs pushing them against her chest and slip inside her easily and she cries out at me pounding into her with force rocking her small body on the bed.

watched her stomach seeing my bulge and I chuckled seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her glasses start slipping from her face.

“Ugh F-fuck- my glasses-“ she cries out as they started falling off onto her body from how hard I was fucking her.

“fuck- push em up for me yeah?” I sighed deeply and she reached a shaken hand pushing the frames back on her face.

She looks so hot like this, all fucked out on my bed for me and she has no idea this was only the beginning

“C-Chris ngh- I-c-can’t-“ she stutters as I watch the tears form in her eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was giving her, the way her tits were pressed up against her body as I held her legs up easily slipping in and out of her wet pussy.

“come on baby, your taking me so well- shit-“ I grunted angling my hips to come in contact with hers more quickly and harshly and hearing her whimpers was so fucking hot.

I attach my thumb to her clit rubbing it in circles and she squealed at the sudden contact from her sensitivity.

“Shit Chris- I-t-the project!” She screams out my name and I smirk at her innocence, I had never thought about the damn project.

“oh princess you really think that’s what I care about?” I say snapping my hips with hers once more pounding her pretty pussy and she curses my name.

“I’ve only been thinking about fucking that pretty ass of yours for days, shit you and that skirt-“ I chuckle drawing figure 8s on her swollen clit and her thighs tremble in my hands.

“Fuck- mphm oh g-god-“ she cries out, her body trembling in my hands her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, her cute classes now discarded.

“Hm? What was that sweetheart?” I smirk pulling her tie making her gulp and her eyes widen as I pull it and thrust into her roughly, the sounds of my hips and her thighs slapping fuck- I could’ve cum right there.

“CHRIS- p-please-“ she stutters gripping the sheets and my finger tips needing her plush thighs as she begs for an orgasm.

“You need to cum?” I say leaning over in her ear.

“Y-yes god-“ she whimpers arching her back.

I decided I would let her cum under one condition.

“princess I’m the only one who’s aloud to fuck you from now on got it?” I say placing my tongue around her nipple sucking softly and she groans.

“Y-yes I-i got it-“ she cries out and I rocked her body harder rubbing her clit and she tightens around me before beginning to squirt, she didn’t stop.

“Fuck you just squirted all over me-“ I chuckle slowing my thrusts.

“Mmph- I’m sorry- I-“ she stutters and I shake my head and chuckle.

“It’s okay honey I’ll take care of you”. I smile and pull out of her smirking seeing proudly at the mess I made of this girl, her thighs shake a bit, our cum dripping out of her and the wet patch on my sheets from her squirting just now. Her face a little teary and fuck she looked so hot all fucked out for me.

I picked up her body and ran her a bath and sat her on the counter for a second

“Spread ur legs for me mama.” I ask her calmly and she does so and I take a warm cloth and rub slowly between her legs and she winces.

“S-sensitive”- she whimpers and I stop and place her in the warm water

“Sorry.” I smile putting her braids in a bun and she sighs in the water.

“thank you for taking care me-“ she sighs smiling at me innocently.

the rest of the night consists of me making sure she was okay

Oh and the project? She, yes ms nerdy herself, asked for an extension

tag list !

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexoslurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @iiheartstef @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @junnniiieee07 @st7rnioioss

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #smut #nicolas sturniolo #christurniolo #chris smut #hearts4chriss

[smashtbh]

Your Biggest Fan

Billy Hargrove x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

req: “ Helloo okaay so this might sound really stupid but can i request a 'Billy x male reader' where the reader is a soccer player and his friends/family don't really believe in him so they never come to his games but he starts to see his crush Billy show up, more and more in his games, and after a game he actually goes and congratulates to the reader and its just really fluffy? I know its kinda cheese af so if you don't like it or just don't want to write it just ignore it!!! “ — @russainweed

as a soccer player, this is absolutely not stupid. also, i may have switched it around to billy having a crush on the reader and the reader slowly developing one for billy — but nonetheless i believe it has the same idea you were going for.

Portuguese translation done by the great @neturnn 🫶🏽

CW: swearing, reader is a badass soccer player 🤞🏽, billy isn’t an asshole, reader has unsupportive parents, but he does have an extremely supportive billy.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x M!reader.

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: my first request omfg i hope i did you justice ✊🏽

word count: 2k something.

(keep in mind that for the purpose of this fic, billy isn’t a racist piece of shit. thank you!)

“You really aren’t coming?” Y/N asks his mother — who for some goddamn reason — refuses to go to his games. She usually drops him, but she’s being an asshole at the moment.

“No, Y/N. I’m busy.” She replies with the most monotone voice as she stares at the TV.

Y/N huffs a humorless laugh. “You know what? Never mind.” He throws his bag over his shoulders, “Since you’re just sooooo busy, I’m gonna take the car.” He grabs the keys off the wall without waiting for a reply.

He wants to say he’ll be back before 7 but he knows she wouldn’t even notice if he came home at all.

He throws himself into the car, shoving his bag with his equipment on the passenger seat. He sighs and rests his head against the steering wheel for a moment — trying not to punch the window at the thought that nobody will be at his game again. He’s used to it by now, but it would be really nice if someone actually came and watched him play.

He drives onto the road, and blasts the radio. He’s bopping his head to some Metallica as he turns into the school. He parks and he sees some of his teammates waiting with their families before they need to start warming up.

He stays in the car for a second, looking around the crowd and spotting Billy fucking Hargrove. He’s only heard bad things about him — and Y/N is a bit worried as to why he’s there. He really hopes none of his teammates end up getting a black eye by the end of the night.

Y/N gets out, grabbing his bag and heading towards the field. His coach and some teammates are already at the bench, so he greets them accordingly.

“If you want, you can have your family sit over here beside the bench — they can see a lot better over here.” His coach says, gesturing to the area he’s talking about.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll let ‘em know.” Y/N mumbles as he puts on his cleats. He slides his shin guards into his thick socks and stands up. At this point he’s very close to kicking his coach in the nuts.

He’s not thinking about the fact that no one is there to watch him destroy this other team, he really isn’t. He doesn’t need his asshole of a mom or his useless dad to win the game.

Just as Y/N is getting into his position, he spots Billy again. He’s sitting on the hood of his Camaro, a cigarette in his mouth. He tries not to stare long, but he thinks Billy catches him because he sees a grin take over his face.

The whistle blows, and Y/N gets in the zone. When halftime rolls around, they’re up by 4 — the score being 6 - 2.

The game finishes and Hawkins’ High has won 8 - 2, Y/N scoring 6 of the goals. He talks with his team for a bit, then makes his way to the car.

Before getting in, he sees Billy. Who seems to be looking in his direction with a concentrated face. The weirdest part is, Billy hadn’t moved the whole game. Stayed sat atop his Camaro, and didn’t talk to anyone. Y/N doesn’t stay long though, he pulls out of the parking lot and heads back to his house.

Y/N has another game. That as usual his parents don’t want to go to.

He drives into the school again and parks, waiting in the car. He’s just chilling with the music and air conditioning on for a moment before he hears the familiar booming that is Billy’s Camaro.

Y/N tries to think of a reason as to why Billy would be here again. It doesn’t make any sense, because this really isn’t Billy’s crowd. A basketball game seems more fitting for him — since the soccer games have a quieter crowd, with no parties afterwards.

As Y/N gets out of the car, he realizes that Billy parked a lot closer than he thought he did. Y/N walks past Billy, flashing a small grin. It looks as if Billy was going to wave because he lifts his hand that isn’t holding his cigarette up — but he just moves to scratch at his chest.

While he’s on the field, he feels someone staring. He wants to say that it’s Billy, because god knows no one comes to watch for Y/N — but he really can’t pin point it because of how intense the game is.

But to no one’s surprise, Hawkins wins again. Y/N scoring 5 goals. He’s wiping his sweat as he walks to the car and is startled by a figure leaning against the driver’s side.

“You’re on my car.”

“I know that.”

Y/N sighs, he really doesn’t want any trouble. He’s just tired and he seriously wants to shower. “Look man, I don’t know what you want from me — “

“Who said I wanted anything?” Billy says, pushing himself off the car to walk towards to Y/N. “I just wanted to tell you that — “

“Did Greg do something again? I suggest you take that up with him and not me.” Y/N interrupts, adjusting his bag on his back.

Billy’s a lot closer now and he smiles and — woah this guy is a lot more attractive up close. “I’d understand the attitude if you guys lost, but you made that team eat your dust.”

Did Billy Hargrove just compliment him?

“I don’t think I follow..”

Billy laughs at that. “Didn’t think Mr. MVP would be so humble.” He throws an arm over Y/N’s shoulder, despite how sweaty he must be. “I’m tryna’ say that you killed it out there, dude.”

Y/N has to fight a smile at that. Despite being known at school for playing on the soccer team, nobody’s taken the time to actually go and tell him that he did a good job. “Thanks. Thank you. I tried.”

Billy pats Y/N’s back, moving to walk away. “Keep up the good work.”

“Wait — “ Y/N says without thinking and Billy turns around, “Did you come here for me?” There’s a pause. “Last time you were here you didn’t talk to anyone.”

“You watching me, creep?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

With the field lights glaring down on them, Y/N can see the red tint that comes up to Billy’s face. “Don’t let it get to your head, punk.” He smiles and struts towards his stupid Camaro.

Y/N smiles to himself. Maybe this Billy Hargrove isn’t so bad after all.

The next couple games go by quickly, faceless teams losing — Y/N doesn’t remember much, other than after the games. He and Billy would lean against his car and talk for as long as it takes for the field lights to turn off, leaving them laughing in the dark.

On the night of the championship game, Y/N’s mom drops him instead of having him take the car because she has a late meeting.

Y/N steps out of the car, and just as he does — hears that damn Camaro, he hates to admit that it’s become music to his ears.

Billy pulls into the parking spot while Y/N waits for him to get down. “Mommy dropped you today?” He says jokingly.

Y/N lightly punches his shoulder and hands him his bag to hold. He’s already put on all of his equipment, but he’s worried that it’ll rain tonight — he doesn’t want his bag to get soaked.

“Good luck, hot stuff. Not that you’ll need it.” Billy says and Y/N can’t help but mentally shut down at that for a minute, then he decides to fire back.

“If we win, you gotta drive me home.” Y/N winks, knowing damn well what the outcome of the game is going to be.

Billy laughs and the tips of his ears turn red. “Yeah — sure. Whatever.”

The game is nerve wracking for both teams, but Hawkins’ has the lead in the first half. Y/N sends glances towards Billy, smiling at him every once in a while.

Towards the second half though, the opposing team catches up. The score is 4 - 4, Y/N having made 2 of the goals. There’s about 10 minutes on the clock left, and it starts to rain, hard.

It’s a lot harder to play with the weather like this. The two teams struggle to get the ball under control. Despite this, Y/N is able to dribble the ball. He’s close to the goal and is about to shoot before some dude comes and rams into him — effectively tripping him in the penalty box.

There’s an “ooooo” that is heard through the hard rain and the ref blows the whistle. Y/N gets up, and realizes that it’s time for him to take the penalty kick.

He lines up the ball with the dot, as the goalie bends his knees and gets into his position. The ref tells the team that this is the last play.

Y/N hops up and down for a bit, trying to conjure the energy he needs for this shot. The goalie seems nervous, especially because of the rain, but it’s bad for both of them.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out, a running start, a well calculated kick — and Hawkins’ High are the champs.

The ref blows the whistle and there’s screaming, car horns beeping, and banging from the bleachers. Y/N drowns everything out as his team hoists him up in the air.

A little later, the rain has calmed down. Y/N walks towards the direction of Billy’s car, but nearly shits himself when it isn’t there.

He jogs a little bit to make sure it really isn’t, when suddenly a loud honk came from behind him. “Jesus fuck — “ Y/N turns around and flips the bird aggressively at Billy.

“Where’d you go?” Y/N asks as he opens the passenger side door.

“To find someone.” Billy says nonchalantly. He isn’t as cheery as he normally would be — Y/N thought he would be happy that his team won.

Y/N stares at him. “Who?”

“Number twenty-six.” Billy mumbles around a cigarette, bringing the lighter to his lips. Y/N stares for a bit longer before it clicks.

“You — dude, did you beat him up?” Y/N looks around for the other team, sighing when he sees that they’ve already left. “Falling is part of the game, Billy.”

Billy turns to look at him. “He tackled you.” He takes a long puff from the cigarette. “I just told him to fuck off, I didn’t touch ‘em.”

Y/N groans at that, rolling his eyes. “I don’t need your protection, honey.” He pulls his jersey over his head, dumping it on top of the Camaro.

Billy glances towards him and turns into a tomato. “Did — did you bring extra clothes?”

“No,” Y/N shakes the rain out of his hair, “Just thought I’d go shirtless.”

It looks as if Billy can’t decide whether or not to look in Y/N’s direction. Glancing at him constantly, but also trying to distract himself with the cigarette.

Y/N laughs. “C’mon, take me home.”

The car ride there was energetic. Filled with laughter and praise. “I mean seriously — you should play for a national team or something.”

“I would but uh — my parents don’t care much for my soccer shit.” Y/N stares out the window. “No biggie though, I’m cool with just playing for Hawkins.”

Billy slows the car down a bit, which is surprising considering he’s broken at least 30 street laws in the span of 6 minutes. “You mean, they don’t care for your talent?”

Y/N shrugs. “Nah.” He turns to Billy, “Like I said though, I don’t really care.”

“Is that why I never see them at your games?”

“What?”

“Your parents.”

Y/N stares ahead of them. “Yeah. They’re busy.”

The car goes quiet. Billy’s going 15 in a 30. “You know,” Billy turns to him. “I think that you’re an amazing player and — person.”

“Yeah?” Y/N grins, “You think so?”

Billy slows to a stop. “Y/N, you’re — cool as hell.” Y/N starts laughing. “No — I’m serious, like — you’re the shit.”

Billy turns to him fully. “I’m sorry that your parents are fucking dickheads, and can’t see how talented, amazing, and handsom — awesome, their kid is.”

Y/N sighs a bit. “Thank you, Billy.” He looks out the window once more. “My house is actually right here.”

He opens the door and hops out, cringing at the wet seat. “Sorry — didn’t realize how sweaty I was.”

Billy glances at it and waves a hand. “It’s fine.” He gestures to Y/N’s body, “It was worth the view.”

Y/N laughs and grabs his bag. “You’re adorable, Hargrove.” He closes the door.

The window rolls down, “I’ll see you later, champ.” Billy blows him a kiss, and Y/N catches it and throws it in the trash bin on the lawn.

Billy fakes an offended look and flips him the bird as he speeds off.

Guess Y/N’s got himself a fan.

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #male reader #gay billy hargrove

[ouiouibaguettt]

Bluey and Red

Leah Williamson x Lola Hernandez (oc!)

@carinaswife hope that you like

warnings: no one

words: 1k

Masterlist here, leave request if you want

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Lola’s POV:

"I'm sorry" I managed to get out between sobs into Sam and Guro's arms. "I shouldn't have missed, I should have passed to one of you" I repeated.

We had lost to FC Barcelona at the Camp Nou in the second leg of the Champions Leagues semi-finals. We only needed one goal to equalize. A goal to still believe but I wasted the opportunity. I had the chance to shoot or pass but I missed.

"We don't blame you, you know that, even great players miss shots like yours, the only thing now is to work on them more and not give up, you're an exceptional player Lola, whether it's us or your nationale team, we're very lucky to have you" Guro said to me as he helped me to my feet and accompanied me towards the tunnel.

"Hernandez!" coming from an unknown voice behind. "Yes?", "Congratulations even if you didn't win you can be proud of the team, you can be proud of yourself really you were an incredible opponent" says the only Alexia Putellas. "Thank you, congratulations to you for the victory, and I hope you'll be back on the pitch soon" I said feeling sympathy for her, it had been 10 months since she had set foot on a pitch and I have the same at home.

"Do you want to swap shirts?" she asked. "Yeah sure" I said excitedly even though I was still bitter about the loss but who wouldn't dream of swapping shirts with Alexia Putellas. "Don't worry about your shot, I miss shots like that too, but if you believe in yourself and your body, you'll put them all in" she said, handing me her shirt. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you" I said, handing her mine in return. "No problem" she smiled at me.

I made my way back to the dressing room with Alexia's shirt in my hands and immediately went to sit in my seat waiting for Emma's speech. When she had finished, I pulled out my phone to see a photo that Leah's mother had sent me.

Mamanda 🤍 The picture was Leah in my Chelsea shirt watching the game on our sofa. Amanda also said to me 'She's waiting for you at home for comfort. You'll come back better. x Amanda'

That message alone makes me feel good, and seeing Leah in a Chelsea shirt is amazing but seeing her in mine is even better, it almost makes me feel better. Speaking of her, she just sent me a message.

My red ❤️ 'I know you're disappointed in the game, and in yourself, but don't be, you led the team all the way, you were amazing in that semi-final, bluey. Know that I love you and I'm waiting for you at home, go home safe. x your red.'

The fact that even thousands of miles away she manages to give me back my confidence means a lot to me coming from her.

//

My red ❤️ 'I've just landed I can't wait to get you home. x your bluey.'

Putting my phone away in my pocket as I saw my suitcase arrive, I headed to pick it up and leave to join Lauren and her brother on their way home.

The drive from the airport to the house was long and quiet. Once I arrived I thanked the James brothers/sisters for the ride, and walked towards the front door which was open with Leah resting against the door frame, she was waving goodbye to Lauren when I reached her and I let go of my suitcase and hugged her.

"I missed you so much red, and I love you too" I said as I replied to her message from the night before. "I missed you too bluey. Come on let's go home before we catch a cold" she says guiding me to the bedroom so I can put my suitcase down and we can go sit on the couch and cuddle.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" she said, resting her head on my chest and looking into my eyes. "I know red" I tell her. "So stop pulling your head up, you were the best player in the game, you missed your shot? So what? It's not a shot that's going to destroy your career" she says. "But I destroyed our hope of going to the final..." I said, breaking the eye contact. "No, it wasn't YOU who broke it, it was the whole team, do you hear me? So right now our plan is to rest, enjoy our time together and you're going to go and win your last few games even against Arsenal right?" she commanded me. "Yes I hear you captain" I said with a little smile.

//

Leah comforted me as best she could that night, so I had to return the favor. That's why I found myself in the Arsenal Stadium, wearing Leah's shirt, cheering for the Guners.

At the final whistle I managed to get down to comfort Leah, I knew that games like this were close to her heart, and I couldn't help but feel bad for her as she was injured just before the semi-final games.

"I'm sorry red, you should be proud of yourself and the girls, really, you were a great team all the way" I said. "Thank you bluey, I love you." she said with tears forming in her eyes. "I love you too, come on don't cry you'll come back much stronger, Chelsea have a lot to worry about next year" I tried to make her smile, which worked. "I'll wait for you at the car okay?" I said. "Okay, I'll be right there" she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek before joining her team in the locker room.

Once we got back from the stadium, we curled up in bed, exhausted from the crazy game we had seen. "Good night bluey" she said to me. "Good night red" I said, closing my eyes.

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I'm devastated that Arsenal lost tonight, they had a crazy season in the champions league despite the injuries, they deserved to go to the final, but congratulations to wolfsburg 😕

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamon #arsenalwfc #arsenalwfc x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso x oc #woso #women champions league #champions league #chelsea fcw

[asherisawkward]

How do you think a "hero and villian are forced to work together" type of episode would have worked between Luz and Belos?

(Note, this is a rough outline of what season three could look like but without any focus on subplots.)

The intro would play the way it does in Thanks to Them, and we’d get some scenes of the Hexsquad adjusting to Earth while Luz is in school. She’d still be suffering from guilt, but it would be related to abandoning Camila without thinking about how that could affect her, especially with Manny’s death. Additionally, there would be a scene where Vee and Luz talk about what happened, and Vee apologizes for taking over Luz’s life and throwing out her things without permission. I think it’d be a good thing to give Vee some more time to develop and acknowledge her own mistake.

At school, we could have a few scenes of Luz trying to fit in and being shunned as evidence for why she was so eager to leave behind the Human Realm. We’d still have the scene of Flapjack finding the Codex and the Hexsquad deciding they’d go searching for the Titan’s Blood as a surprise for Luz. It would also be around this time that we see Gus and Hunter being Cosmic Frontier nerds. They’d get the scene of the group finding giraffes and getting terrified like in canon, and they meet Masha, who gives them a hand with the code.

It would then switch to follow Philip wandering about the Human Realm, possessing or feeding on animal corpses in an attempt to regain his strength. This would be an incredibly grim set of scenes focused on the difficulty Philip has with physical survival and regaining his strength after what the Collector did. A lot of his screentime would focus on the after effects Philip experiences after the Day of Unity. He’s falling apart and having a hard time becoming stable without a form to take over, and he would frequently be interrupted and distressed by various memories that Gus went through in King’s Tide coming back and tormenting him.

He’d start working up in forms until he got to a deer and get hit by a car just like in canon, and goop would get sprayed and spilled over the road, attracting Luz’ and Camila’s attention as they’re driving home with groceries. This is the point that Philip becomes a variable to the Hexsquad, and they start trying to plan around him.

Then, as the episode continued, each party would individually realize that the Collector is a threat to their respective goals (Luz’s goal being to save the Isles and Philip’s being to destroy them) along with the unwanted necessity of needing the other person in order to be able to stop the Collector from going on a rampage. Philip could help them make another portal if they gave him the right incentive with it. The group is rightfully conflicted on it, and Hunter is the most outspoken one on the Anti-Philip side of things for obvious reasons.

Philip would probably be more active about seeking Luz out because he’s more aware of her and the Hexsquad, while the latters are still putting pieces together about where he is and grappling with the fact that he may be an asset. Eventually, he’d move to digging up corpses and possessing them to get back his human form without actually hurting any humans before he forced himself into his human form briefly to get his clothes back and starts hauling himself to the Noceda household.

The scene of Philip knocking on the door of the house that the Hexsquad’s adopted would be very tense because, a) everyone is already there, so who’s knocking on the door, and, b) Philip is possessing a literal corpse to be here. Along with, you know, he’s Philip.

He wouldn’t ever say “I need your help to take down the Collector,” because he would not want to confess that he needs help and cannot take the Collector on alone. Instead, he makes it about how the Hexsquad needs him to make a stable portal and his magical expertise will be invaluable to them. Hell, he’ll even be generous and swear to not attack them while they’re teamed up. After a lot of debate and bargaining, they come to an agreement and start working together.

The rest of the episode is about how the various characters come to terms with having to be around the monster that tried to murder them all, and how Philip attempts to balance his recovery and creating the portal. On Halloween, they go out and have a bit of fun before they go to leave, and they still see the Tale of the Brothers Wittebane. The episode would end with the characters going through the portal, except for Vee, who stays behind how she does in canon. She’s been incredibly brave in facing and dealing with her abuser/captor, and I like that she’s not expected or forced to go along after that.

In For the Future, it would focus on King and the Collector for about half of it (with a little bit of Eda and Lilith) and the expanded Hexsquad for half of it.

On King’s side of things, he is dealing with a very sadistic and manipulative Collector (Shadow Collector, my beloved /j) They’re still playing Owl House with the Collector as Luz, but they’ve amped the stakes up. Instead of puppetifying everyone immediately, the Collector is forcing everyone to play their parts through intimidation, and if they mess up, then they start getting turned into a puppet slowly. It travels kind of like possession but slower, and the victims lose control and feeling of their limbs as the spell progresses. I’m thinking a horrifying situation that kind of goes, “my body is not my own.” Once someone is completely transformed, the spell is irreversible like petrification and basically becomes a corpse that is forced to move around and talk by the Collector. Eda, Hooty, and Lilith are set up by King as vital characters and are given a bit more leeway because King said they’re necessary for the game. Still, the Collector is becoming more violent as he starts to get bored with the game.

With the Hexsquad, Gus is quickly becoming one of the more important characters in the episode. The earring the at he took from Graye had a slice of Galderstone, which, contrary to popular belief, amplifies the complexity and scale of illusions that can be done. Using this knowledge, Gus makes and maintains an illusion as the Hexsquad walks that makes it seem as if there is nobody there without needing to hold breath the way they would with a glyph. He does a double-layered spell: one layer that has slight changes to the area around them and a couple animals to explain the noise they’re making, and another that just makes the group invisible to other eyes.

Willow and Amity will start talking properly about the way that things have changed over the past couple years and how just because Odalia and Alador made them stop being friends did not excuse the bullying that she did for years. Amity could properly acknowledge this and work to be better.

Camila is being a momma bear while also trying to adapt the way Luz did, and Luz finally gets to explain to her mother how she came to the Isles and how she fell in love with the place as a whole. It’s a really good bonding moment for the pair, and I think it could really help flesh out the way they interact as a family as a whole.

They’d stop at the Owl House and take a break, and Gus would have a moment where he talks to and connects with Philip. He explains his fascination and interest with humans and how he spent his childhood being enamored with them. He thought they were strange, amazing creatures that were good as a whole. Now, with what he’s seen in Philip’s memories, he feels disillusioned and hurt, like he’s lost a part of something integral to himself. How it that humans can be so horrible to people?

It would be really interesting to watch Philip and Gus to mourn their childhoods and the loss of that bright-eyed innocence about the world. After all, even if Philip believes humanity is good, he knows that there are bad people, and it can’t have been easy to learn that.

It would be a moment of genuine connection between the pair, and Philip could point out that there are good and bad people in every group, and that for every murderer or thief, there are doctors and authors and other amazing people who change the world. After listening to that, Gus pauses for a moment and says, “Have you ever considered that it’s the same way for witches, too?”

The pair stop talking after that.

Finally, finally, Luz and Philip get to talking about the way things are. Luz shares some of her concerns about being like him and how she’s a bad person for helping him meet the Collector. Philip roughly says, “You aren’t like me; you’re like Caleb.” Then we get a brief flashback scene as Philip explains a little bit of his childhood—being orphaned and dependent on Caleb with no one else in his life, the way he was all but destroyed when he saw his brother leave with Evelyn, how certain he was that Caleb wouldn’t abandon him, and everything else about his story.

At that point, Luz starts feeling awful about what happened with her mother and how scared she must have been when she found out that Luz wasn’t at summer camp and instead another realm. She wonders how she could be so thoughtless and what other ways she could have hurt the people she cares about. Philip points out that Camila is still alive and that there’s time to make things right between them. Hearing that, Luz runs off to go talk to her mother.

Camila is a bit surprised that her daughter comes to her suddenly and says that she needs to talk with her. They go into another room, and Luz pours her heart out about everything that happens and apologizes for leaving the way she did and not talking about things with her. Camila is gentle and comforts her, saying that she had been incredibly scared, but she’s proud of how much Luz has grown from her time in the Boiling Isles and how she could never ask her to leave someplace so dear to her forever.

Luz’s palisman wish in this is, “All I wanted is to feel like I belong somewhere,” because it still fits into her theme of being a weirdo and feeling misunderstood without putting pressure on her friends and family to bend over backwards to understand her even when they disagree. Stringbean is still her Palisman, but she’s just a snake as opposed to a snake-shifter.

Meanwhile, the Collector is becoming more and more suspicious of their “friend.” King goes away too often, and he’s always so secretive around Lilith and Eda! What if he’s planning something? What if he’s going to betray them the way Philip did? He begins preparing himself for King’s betrayal and spends some spies to follow the Titan. Eda, Lilith, Hooty, and King wander about in some of their limited time away from the Collector while they’re distracted or sleeping.

Eventually, the two groups meet up, and there’s a lot of joy for everyone as they reunite with each other, explain what’s been happening in the different realms, and introduce Eda, Lilith, and King to Camila. The Hexsquad is ecstatic to know that their loved ones are okay, as King confirms that he hasn’t seen any of them get puppetified (and King’s almost always there when that happens). However, once the shock has worn off, they realize that Philip is there, and they become incredibly suspicious about him. The situation is quickly explained, and the Eternal Oath between the two groups soothes them for now, but Lilith makes sure to tell Philip that she’s watching him for any suspicious business. The episode ends on the Collector, revealing that he’s seen the whole interaction.

In Watching and Dreaming, it would start shortly after Eda, Lilith, and Hooty were reunited with Luz and the rest of the Hexsquad. Philip is awkward and generally standing off to the side due to his mistreatment of both witches in the past and the growing realization that with the fight approaching, they will have to fight and either die or suffer, and Philip will have to turn against them in the end.

Eventually, the Collector would find the group and try to take King hostage for betraying him and working for his downfall. That would trigger an all out fight where everyone would scramble to get King free. Hunter would succeed by grabbing King and teleporting away after Amity restrains the Collector for a short period of time.

I’m not the best at describing fight scenes, but it would be a mess. Willow would be shooting vines at the Collector and making sure that everyone had the potential to get in range and get away if needed. Gus would be distracting, diverting, and attempting to visually overwhelm the Collector with his illusions. He might even try the bad memory thing again.

Amity would attack utilizing abomination matter and attempt to restrain the Collector’s movement. Hunter would have Flapjack and go about his usual teleportation-and-retreat based fighting style. King would use his Titan powers and Lilith would use potions (and Hooty) to destroy and hold back the puppet army. Eda and Camila would be doing their best to give the Collector hell while protecting their kids, and they’d be absolutely badass at it.

Philip would be fighting like the devil, and it’d be another opportunity to get a true sense and scale of his power. I’m thinking that because he’s the most durable and survived being liquified by the Collector, he jumps in to take most of the damage for the Hexsquad. Finally, Luz would be absolutely amazing with her glyph combinations now that Philip has had some time to teach her some of his combinations.

The fight would eventually end when Philip partially petrifies the Collector before Luz slams them with a glyph combination that nice again traps them in their prison. Then, the Hexsquad absolutely demolishes the tablet that’s used for the imprisoned and the real world to communicate.

There’s celebrations, laughing, crying, and hugging. People are hugging, and Amity and Luz kiss after the latter hugs her mother. Everyone’s celebrating, except for Philip. He’s standing off to the side and kind of staring at the scene before him. He’s seeing proof, actual proof, of the goodness of the witches and demons that he thought were evil. His entire life has been dedicated to a lie, and everything that he used to see as good is monstrous.

Philip is badly wounded, but he interrupts the festivities to attack the witches around him. Luz uses Stringbean to deflect the attack and begins fighting him back. With the wounds he has and the knowledge he’s been wrong his whole life, Philip is not fighting nearly as well as he does in his prime, making it easier for Luz to fight against him on more equal ground.

Luz asks him to stop, saying that there has to be some other way to resolve the situation. Now that she understands the situation and what caused it, maybe find another way. (Basically, she tries to pull a Steven Universe)

“How else could this have ended with how far I’ve gone?” Philip asks, continuing to fight. They continue to fight, the man getting more and more injured as they go on. Eventually, he’s too wounded to go on, and his body gives out beneath him. He passes on soon after. Luz is there when he dies, but she is not responsible for it. I want it to feel kind of somber, because he’s a pretty tragic character as a whole.

————

That’s my idea for Season Three if Philip and Luz had to team up. A lot of Thanks to Them comes from @chiconisroc’s “Was Not The Hero,” because it’s got the same sort of premise.

#The Owl House #TOH #Philip Wittebane #Emperor Belos #BelosFansTakeover #Luz Noceda #Camila Noceda #Vee Noceda #Hunter Noceda #Gus Porter #Amity Blight #Willow Park #Flapjack #Eda Clawthorne #King Clawthorne #Lilith Clawthorne #Hooty #Coven Heads #Season Three rewrite #Hexsquad #Ask

[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Siren Call (1)

[Surprise! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I took a break from writing these for a bit, but I did want to get through the idea I had about something from Minerva's perspective. This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I'm talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! There'll be a bit of a delay, but this one will join the rest of the Synoverse up on Ao3 here. How many parts will this be? I've learned my lesson, I'm not estimating.]

Minerva had stopped expecting her life to be ‘normal’ before she’d graduated High School.

When at 16 you were already having to downplay your physical strength to avoid taking doors off of their hinges, and realizing that you could never, ever join the swim team even if you could absolutely destroy any of the times they posted, there were a few other things your mind put together in the background.

Like the fact that you would never be safe again.

Hiding things about herself wasn’t exactly conducive to the kind of relationship she wanted, so romance was dead. That was fine at the time, actually, most of the people she’d been interested in had turned out to be more interested in… well, a variety of things ranging from other people to free emotional support. The point was, she’d been more upset by the idea that any of her personal goals for a career were now permanently marred by the terror that she’d have to do some kind of blood test that would brand her as a ‘cape.’

And that it would have to be hidden was never even a question. Sure, there were heroes around who people were proud of when she was younger. But every so often, those heroes would go out to fight, and be seen again as scorched remains in a crater left by a man called Sunhallow. Other villains, too. People said he was targeting anyone who might be a threat to him if they didn’t work for him.

Kids in her classes had mostly made fun of the costume.

Even after Sunhallow’s disappearance and rumored death, when she was in her senior year, people were wary. Things like Sunhallow didn’t just die. They always came back. There was always a second shoe to drop.

And no one knew about her then, not yet, so she thought maybe... maybe she could live a little?

Going off to college had felt like the last chance she had at any degree of ‘normalcy’ and even that was tempered by the gnawing sense of something missing, something wrong. She’d put it down to anxiety about her classes and pushed through it, sure it would eventually pass.

Minerva hadn’t been a teenager for about two decades now. But that sense of… something missing had never really gone away.

She'd experimented with drinking and with a few variations on marijuana, and a variety of at-home remedies like aromatherapy and meditations. She'd tried a therapist, twice, even though she felt like she couldn't tell them everything about herself, and she knew that kind of defeated a lot of the point of therapy. And that gnawing feeling continued, until it seemed stranger to imagine a world without it.

There were times it was so muted, so quiet that she could forget about it - when she was in a fight, or diving, or when Alexandria had been little. Sometimes Albion could drive it away, and make her feel sane.

But she’d never felt quite as… at peace, as she did when she was in costume. That was the only time, the only place, that the sense of something missing really faded away.

Plenty of people had told her that every cape had something deeply wrong with them, to be the kind of person to do what they did. Minerva had never corrected them.

—-

“You’re awake early.”

Minerva glanced over one shoulder, unsurprised to see Synovus draped against half of her doorframe. She’d left the door open, and Synovus was very carefully on the edge where she could shut the door in their face, if she’d wanted. Trying not to be an intrusion, even as they unrepentantly stuck their metaphorical nose into her business.

“Judging by your face, you haven’t slept.” Minerva said critically.

Synovus made a noise of mock dismay, and Minerva risked giving them a closer look. Yes, the bags under their eyes were more pronounced than usual, and their hair was a barely-contained mess, but none of that worried her. The haphazard state of their clothing was, frankly, par for the course around the island these days.

“Evil never sleeps, m-Minerva.” The slip up was slight, covered for quickly and smoothly. Once, she wouldn’t have caught it. Now, she knew Synovus better.

‘My Dear Minerva,’ they’d almost said.

Minerva ignored it.

“I’m taking that trip to the mainland I talked about.” She explained, turning her back on the most confusing human being she’d ever known in favor of checking her case’s contents for the third time.

Synovus hummed, and Minerva stiffened on reflex. She relaxed almost as quickly, but still mentally scolded herself. Synovus hummed when they were uncertain of themselves, not to try and trap her into an argument. They’d said several times that she was both welcome to stay and to leave at her discretion.

This was normal. This was fine.

“If you should… need anything, while you’re out there-“ Synovus was picking their words carefully, skirting around potential condescension or worry to come off as affable, almost disinterested. It didn’t really work.

“I will be fine.” Minerva says firmly, turning to glare if need be.

Instead, she meets Synovus’s gaze. Their eyes are clear for the moment, no shadows flickering, no lights swirling. Instead, the only thing she sees in them is… confidence.

“I know.” Synovus says, and even the faint lilt of humor isn’t enough to hide the certainty in that statement. They clear their throat, “I have no misgivings about your strength and ability to use it, Lady Minerva. But, should you wish to be better than ‘fine’ while out and about in the world…”

They trail off, and Minerva wonders, idly, if it’s possible to push them so far into discomfort that they start using ‘thee’ instead of ‘you.’ She’d rather think about that than the sheer faith Synovus had in her, and what that might mean aside from further proof Synovus was -

There were too many ways to finish that sentence. Her mind rejected all of them with a studious determination before Synovus realized she wasn’t going to finish their sentence either.

“… you will call?” They asked softly.

A few months ago, Minerva might’ve sneered at the implication she would ever ask Synovus for anything. But then she’d been captured, ‘outmaneuvered’ by a pair of up-and-coming villains with a hostage trick, and then each and every one of her backup plans came crashing down when her daughter had been thrown into a trap right beside her.

And then there had been rain in the desert, and the sound of a Villain’s taunt ringing through the spire’s PA system, and eventually - Synovus themself, there to take both of them home. Even if they’d had several reasons to do it that had nothing to do with her, or Alexandria.

“One day, Minerva.” Synovus had murmured then, “I'm going to prove to you that my affection for you is not a trap”

“I’ll call when I’m on my way back to the island.” Minerva said coolly now, closing a mental door on the reverie. “If only so you don’t wake your entire staff in a panic.”

Synovus winced. A week prior, the sensors that alerted any Cape’s approach to the island had mis-triggered, mistaking a particularly dense patch of seagulls for someone with flight making an unauthorized approach. Watching the way everyone leapt to alarm stations and fell immediately into place had been impressive. Watching a sleep deprived Synovus throw their helmet at the birds (and miss) once they’d realized what had happened had been hilarious.

"Who's panicking?" The bleary voice comes from behind Synovus, and they shift aside to let Alexandria through.

Minerva's wayward teenage daughter looked like she was still contemplating waking up - like her body had just gotten ahead of schedule, and the rest of her hadn't caught up yet. Synovus ruffled her hair affectionately as she passed.

"No one yet, though the night's still young." Synovus replied, while Alexandria stepped forward to hug Minerva.

Minerva was still trying to learn not to hug too tightly, every time something happened. Logically, she knew there was nowhere in the world safer than Synovus's island. And she knew her daughter could defend herself.

But Minerva had been afraid of losing her long before she'd ever been born, and that fear didn't die easy.

"It's seven in the morning." Minerva scolded over Alexandria's shoulder.

Synovus frowned, and made a show of finding their phone to squint at the time it displayed. Their frown deepened, as though they had caught the bit of technology lying to them.

Alexandria had shifted from a full hug to standing to one side, still leaning on Minerva. "I'll call Rosie." She threatened. The yawn that cut her off kept her from living up to her chosen moniker.

Synovus shrugged, slipping the phone back into a pocket. "I won't sleep any faster if they're yelling at me." They point out. "Anyway, your mother-" It was always 'your mother' in front of Alexandria, "-agreed to call ahead on her way back. So we don't get another birdstrike scenario."

"It'd be more like the time with the dolphins." Alexandria remarked. Minerva raised a brow, looking from her daughter back to Synovus, who turned both hands palm up and looked mildly chagrined.

"Nevermind, I'm sure I don't want to know." Minerva says, waving it off both to avoid the headache, and because she's still itching to get going.

Alexandria knows the tone well enough - she gives Minerva another squeeze, then slips away to join Synovus by the doorway. She yawns again, and calls back over her shoulder, "Tell Gran and Gramps I said hi."

When she's gone again, Synovus and Minerva consider each other - one hesitant, the other wary. After a moment, Synovus extends a hand, offering, "Safe travels."

Minerva checks their palm for a sign of something they might be trying to slip her before shaking it. "Thanks." She said flatly.

And if she finds herself rubbing her fingers on the walk down to the beach, well, it's a subconscious tic. Unrelated.

---

There’s a common phrase that’s worked it’s way into becoming a whole saying.

“You never forget your first.”

For most people, that’s a marker of a degree of intimacy - a first crush, a first kiss, a first sexual experience. But it holds true for other things as well - like a first horrific allergic reaction. And arguments can be made that that’s all love really is, anyway.

Among the caped community, there’s a different list of firsts. The first person you told about your abilities. The first time you found out you had abilities. The first other hero you’d ever met. A popular ice breaker at parties is ‘the first person you ever saved.’

Less popular are the counterpoints: the first person you couldn’t save. The first villain you encountered. The first time you had to choose in the heat of a moment, and you chose wrong.

For Minerva, a terrifying amount of her caped ‘firsts’ have the same name - Albion.

He’d been the first person to find out about her abilities, and the first powered person she’d ever met face to face. A misunderstanding wherein he thought she’d been swept out to sea by a riptide and she assumed the figure dropping from the sky was out to get her had resulted in a very confused half-fight, wherein they’d saved each other from their own nonsense.

She’d thought once that that was how it would always be - saving each other. Things had turned out more in favor of the slap-fighting and misunderstandings.

—-

Minerva is working up the courage to get out of her car when her phone buzzes.

Alex: So how’s it going?

Despite herself, Minerva smiles, just a little. She can’t put her finger on why, and doesn’t try to.

Min: I’ve only just gotten here. Haven’t even knocked on the door yet.

Alex: Okay, then how was the drive?

Min: It was fine.

Minerva grimaces. That feels insufficient. She wracks her memory for something else to add, but the drive was hardly anything, nothing stands out. Before she can come up with something else, there’s a response:

Alex: Y’know, I should’ve offered to fly you over.

Minerva raises an eyebrow.

Min: And why’s that?

Alex: I still want to let you talk to them alone and everything, but they could’ve just seen me drop you off, and been like “who’s that really cool goth girl?”

Alex: And you could say something like “I have much to tell you” and bam, ice broken.

Min: Is Synovus giving you advice on dramatic entrances?

Alex: You never told me that one time they stole a whole cruise ship for the ambiance.

Min: Is that what they’re calling it?

Minerva’s mouth twitches again. Yes, Synovus had commandeered a cruise ship, and spent the whole fight spouting off about how it was good to have ‘variety’ in one’s combat scenarios. They’d also convinced part of the ship’s entertainment crew to set up a big ‘reveal’ of who had taken over the ship, as though anyone else would’ve bothered to think of musical cues.

She’d been tempted to sink the ship.

While Alexandria goes briefly radio-silent - presumably to grill Synovus for more details on the cruise ship story - Minerva looks up towards the house she’s never seen before.

It’s a relatively unassuming one-story. It’s ten minutes on foot from here to where the coast starts, and she could have her feet in the water by the fifteen minute mark. The sound of the waves is different here than it is on the island - there aren’t any cliffs or underwater tunnels, only the long smooth curve of a beach made more of rocks than sand. It’s soothing.

A twitch of a curtain in one window reminds her she’s looking at the house, not the ocean. Mentally, she scolds herself for wasting time.

She allows herself one last white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and one last deep breath.

Then Minerva gets out of her car, and goes to talk to the parents she hasn’t seen in seven years.

—-

When Minerva became a hero, it went something like this:

She’d always been a strong swimmer. Her family lived near the water line, always, so it wasn’t unusual for her to come into contact with the ocean at least once a day, when the weather was fair, and rain or snow when it wasn’t.

Her parents had always seemed overly cautious about calling her out of the water before it got too cold, or before she could get too tired, but that’s any child’s perspective. She wouldn’t get sick from a bit of splashing around, even if there were frost films on the windows and flurries in the air. And as she got older, they trusted her to know her limits more and more, and her confidence had only grown.

Which was why, when they’d seen the small crowd gathering at the road not far from where they lived at the time and heard the murmurs that someone had been swept out to sea, Minerva had been absolutely certain that she could save them.

She’d gone home, put on her wetsuit, and been out of her window in minutes. It wasn’t hard to find a cove out of sight of the news crews and nervous watchers. And even as the light was dimming, she didn’t feel afraid.

Because once Minerva was in the water, nothing could touch her.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel the currents, the motions of the waves - she did. They just didn’t have sway over her unless she allowed it. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tell the light was darkening, or the temperature falling - she could. They were just minor shifts, like the movement of a sunbeam across her arms while she read in the windowsill.

So Minerva had swept out on the same current that had ripped a man from the shallows, and looked for the signs of a person’s floundering.

This, admittedly, had been the weakest part of her plan, because she had no idea how to find someone in the vast expanse of potential that was the ocean. All she really had going for her was that she was fast, could manually follow the currents, and didn’t get cold. And, she eventually realized, she might’ve been looking for a corpse instead of a person, and how would she find that?

Those doubts had just had time to start to settle when she found him.

Minerva never did learn his name, but he was a few years older than her, there visiting his family, which was why he hadn’t known the signs he needed to look out for. He knew what a riptide was, and that he was supposed to try and swim parallel to shore to escape it, but everything happened so fast and it was so cold, that all he could really do was tread water. At least, that’s the story she got out of him as she towed him back to shore.

The only time her courage had faltered had been when he’d asked for her name, after she’d brought him to the secluded cove, and directed him towards the crowd.

“You saved my life.” He’d explained, still dazed and weak. “Who do I - how do I thank you?”

And there had been a sudden feeling of ice water down her spine, as she’d remembered the stories of what happened to people who were saviors.

“Tell them a Naiad saved you.” She’d called, moving back into the waves. “It’s true enough!”

There’d been speculation that he misheard her, and that her name was ‘Maya’ for a while. But in the end, the story faded - and Minerva never forgot.

—-

There’s no good, simple way to repair a cut tie with someone you love.

Whether things frayed until they snapped, withered and disintegrated, or were cut cleanly, that thread can never be respun. You have to start over, and try and weave with the tangled threads of what’s left.

Sometimes the threads are still the same color - soft pastels of passing friendships that blend well enough when they’re given the opportunity. Sometimes you find that while you weren’t looking (and sometimes when you were) the threads have been dyed, and the red that meant love once has been shot through with the purples of bruises and resentment, its original hues shifted to rage. That was what Minerva expected to find, when she came home. That’s what most of her own tapestry looked like these days, after all.

Instead, she found the golden honey color of home.

—-

It took a few hours for them to all wind up at the kitchen table. They’d covered for some of the awkwardness by showing her the house - her father’s most recent crochet project, pictures of last year’s garden, how her mother had finally decided to organize the spice cabinet after six years of deliberation and relabeling.

(She’d frowned and swapped two canisters while Minerva’s father wasn’t looking, and Minerva nearly cried at the familiarity of it.)

Then had come the insistence of refreshments, of warm drinks against the coolness of the weather. The porch was a bit damp, and the living room a bit dark, but the table was mostly clear so long as she didn’t mind shuffling aside a few skeins of yarn, would that do?

And so they’d settled in, as the rain drummed softly into the roof and dripped from the overhang that shielded the window. And her father had taken a breath, met her eyes, and said,

“We love you. And you don’t owe us a damn thing.”

Minerva had blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Her mother nodded firmly, adding, “Not an explanation, not an apology - if you want to talk about any of it, Min, you know - I want you to know - that we’ll listen, anytime, anywhere. But if all you want is to come over for dinner, then that’s all we’ll do.”

Minerva stared at her cup, trying to think of where to begin. What would be polite - no, they didn’t stand on manners with family. What would be right- well, by whose standards? What did she want?

Finally, she croaked, “I think I - I want you to ask.”

And so they did.

And so Minerva told them.

She told them about how she’d become slowly convinced that her continued nearness to them was putting them in danger. She told them about how Albion was always reminding her of the need to be cautious, the importance of not ever being caught. She told them about how sometimes he’d bring up the Sunhallow purges, and try to make a plan for what they’d do if it ever happened again.

She told them about how he’d begged her to make the move, citing crime rates and health statistics and population graphs, anything to get her to concede they would be better - safer - away from the city, further inland. If not for her, then for their child. And how she’d eventually caved, because if he was so worried, and this would bring him more peace of mind, then she could bear it. It would keep the people she loved safe.

She told them about how she’d tried to look into finding a place near water - a lake, a pond, a river. Every time, Albion had assured her that he was keeping that in mind, but that he’d handle it, really. She didn’t need to stress, especially when she was keeping up with so much otherwise. He admired her for being able to manage so much, the house and the hero gig, and could he just do this one thing for her?

She told them about how the house had been twenty minutes away from the nearest large water source. About how she’d begged him for something - anything. A koi pond. A pool. A goddamned well.

“Think about how that would look to the neighbors, ‘Thena.” He’d said worriedly. “I know you - you get underwater and you don’t come out for hours. They’ll think you’re drowning yourself.”

So they’d bought the largest tub she could find, and she’d spent as much time as she could submerged in it, staring at its porcelain sides and the bathroom lighting and feeling like a fish in a bowl. She’d told herself it was a selfish thought.

She told them about how he would sometimes grab her too roughly, or slam things around her. Sometimes it was a joke, played off as training her instincts. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“I just - you’re the only person in the whole world I can let my guard down around.” He’d muttered to her, mid-apology after a shove had left her sternum aching and purple. “I love you so much, I don’t stop to think.”

Somehow, she’d wound up being the one comforting him.

And she chokes out how having accepted those reasons made it easier to believe them herself, when Alex had the occasional bruise. When she reached out to slap her hand away from something, or pulled a bit too roughly. It felt like validation for everything Albion had said - look, it was easy to fall into. It didn’t mean anything.

It happened all the time.

And there was no one, by then, to tell her otherwise, because friendships were liabilities and risks that they couldn’t take, because it wasn’t right to endanger others with a secret they would never share. There were no work friends. No PTA rivalries. No soccer parent associations.

There was only the house, and the freedom that came from going out in costume. And even then, there could be no interviews, and every statement had to be carefully measured so that no one - not a villain, or a civilian, or even another hero - could learn something they shouldn’t.

Laying it out like this, Minerva realizes that it’s no wonder she only ever felt like herself in a fight. It was the only time she didn’t have to hold back any part of who she was.

She’s expecting her parents to condemn her for not realizing when she’d turned from - (her mind skitters away from the term ‘abused’) bystander to accomplice in Albion’s behavior. She’s expecting hurt that she didn’t trust them to make their own decisions about risks. She’s expecting them to say they taught her better than this.

Instead, they listen. Even when there are times one or both tightens their grip on their mugs, or wrestles to avoid showing some emotion (because it is no mystery where she got her temper; none of them are strangers to righteous rage) they do not interject outside of the quiet, prompting questions. And when she finally stumbles to a halt, before she’s even gotten to Synovus and the kidnapping, her mother comes to kneel beside her and wrap her arms around her, while her father stands at her other shoulder and does the same.

“You’re free now?” Her mother asks, running her fingers through Minerva’s hair. “You and Alex both?”

Minerva nods. She clears her throat, enough to force two words out, “Albion’s dead.”

She realizes that there’s an implication there, that she wielded the spear that killed him. The idea doesn’t hurt as much as it would’ve once - but neither of her parents so much as blink.

“Good.” Her mother says firmly. “Then that’s all you need to focus on right now, Min. No matter how long it takes you to untangle the knots he’s tied you in - you’re free.”

—-

Truth be told, Minerva doesn’t know when her parents figured out she had powers. For all she knows, they had known since she was born.

But one night, when she and Albion had been staying with her parents for a week, and they’d gone out to fight, they came back to see one of her parents on the porch, the other in the windowsill.

“You’re both alright?” Her father had asked.

No surprise. No exclamations. No how-could-yous. Concern. Acknowledgement. A reminder of when breakfast would be ready.

And that was that.

—-

The guest room in their new house isn’t the same as a childhood bedroom, but to Minerva, it feels similar. She’s under their roof again, with all the reflexive memories and half-forgotten ones tugged along with them.

She had expected to feel… well, different. Not good, probably kind of bad. And she didn’t feel lighter yet, the way people said confessions were supposed to make you feel. Instead, Minerva felt… raw. Sticky. Like the truth she’d tried to ‘set free’ had just come back to cling to her.

She was too emotionally exhausted to try and parse that. Better to get some sleep, if she could.

Minerva unzipped her suitcase, flipping it open on the bed. Her suitcase, that she’d checked so many times over. The suitcase with all of her clothing and things in perfect organization, untouched.

And a postcard sitting loose on top of them.

It had to have been custom-made. There was no stamp, for one thing, no actual postal markings. Just the same shape and size, with the same stylized ‘Wish you were here’ emblazoned across a picture… a picture of Synovus. On the beach. In full costume. With the necessary additions of a woven wide-brim hat and loose Hawaiian floral shirt left unbuttoned, on top of the helmet and body armor. They were holding a glass of juice with a little umbrella and a silly straw.

Alone in this bedroom that wasn’t hers, but might’ve been, Minerva burst out laughing.

#Synoverse #Siren Call #Naiad #Synovus #tw abuse mention #Did I sit on this for an absurdly long time? #Yes #Did I know immediately that I wanted that fucking postcard to be in this piece? #Also yes

[comicaurora]

As you occasionally dispense writing advice from here that resonates, do you have any advice for or resources to point to assisting in crafting a central story arc?

With caveats that obviously no advice is universal and effort and repetition is required but to get metaphorical an average group of high school students would not be able to pilot a galleon no matter how much effort without a proper direction.

Concepts, characters, world building even the occasional cool scene come to me reasonably enough but whenever I try to string it all together things fall apart and I have years of abandoned writing projects staring back. Without a solid central plot it's just ambient vibes that doesn't go anywhere.

A central story arc is foundational to a story in the same way the tracks are foundational to a train trip. It IS important, but if it's doing its job, it's probably the part of the journey you think about the least. Instead, focus will ideally be drawn to the views, the stops, the fellow travelers and anything else encountered along the way.

There's a reason most central arcs are fundamentally very simple - they exist to enable forward motion. Most of them take the form "heroes want/need X and Y is stopping them from getting it." X is the end goal, but Y is why the plot happens.

Dorothy wants to go home. Glinda sends her on a hit first.

Frodo needs to destroy the ring. Sauron and co make this difficult.

The Beast needs true love to break his curse. His terrible people skills make this difficult.

Edward and Alphonse Elric want to restore their bodies. An ancient countrywide immortal conspiracy inconveniences them along the way.

Hamlet needs to avenge his father. Hamlet gets in the way.

Columbo wants to bring murderers to justice. Their convoluted coverups make this complicated.

Light Yagami wants to make a perfect world by killing everyone he doesn't like. Many people object to this.

Sailor Moon needs to protect the world from bad guys. Bad guys make this difficult.

These driving motivations are simple by design. Functionally speaking, the core plot is just a momentum vector - speed and direction. Where are they going, and how fast are they getting there? It exists to propel the heroes forward when they won't propel themselves, enabling all the actual interesting stuff in their stories. Concepts, characters, worldbuilding and individual cool scenes are what populate the rest of the story - the core driving impetus is just what's needed to push the protagonists through all the fun stuff you build for them. There's a reason so many stories just put a Big Bad at the end of all the other fun stuff and say "he burned down your village and killed your stern but fair father figure! GET 'IM!" It's basic, but it's really all you need. Gosh, what an evil villain! It'd be a shame if stopping him required you to take a tour of all the most interesting settings in this shiny new world I made for you-

The number one problem I've run into when formulating core plotlines is making them too complicated. The complications exist tangential to or intersecting with the core plot. They're the fun bits of worldbuilding and character moments. The core plot is just what gets your heroes there. The detective has sizzling chemistry with the femme fatale because of the murder he's trying to solve. The hero accumulates a colorful band of misfits with the power of friendship because of the evil overlord they're trying to stop. When you're laying down tracks for a railroad, you don't put in loop-de-loops - providing excitement is the job of the scenery and the stops. The tracks just need to get you there.

If you're stumped for the core but you've got everything else, go as basic as you can. Solving a crime. Rescuing a friend. Stopping a bad guy. Traveling from point A to point B. Finding an object. Then ask what events and chatacters this core journey can carry your protagonists through, and that's where all the interesting bits happen.

#asks #writing stuff

[derelictheretic]

Here is my little Heather propaganda post for @homemadegirlbossbattle's!!

Warning(s): Murder, Torture, Traumatizing kids with their parents murder, widow mention, general manipulation

🕷She's burned down homes, tortured parents in front of their kids and left the kids to mourn over their corpses, telling them parents suck anyway and they never needed them anyway despite them being like 5.

Firstly please vote for her she's a hot bisexual living her best life making an equally awful bisexual dude's life miserable <3

Now onto some more of her crimes and awful behaviour:

🕷Heather is a spoiled brat who grew up with strict, rich parents and as soon as she hit college she went off the rails, but privately and well hidden from public eye.

🕷She learnt from a young age how to lie, manipulate, cheat and make herself look good to everyone else and she uses these tools constantly.

🕷When she was younger she was petty with it, getting classmates in trouble or expelled for something she did or causing another month long fight between her parents because she didn't get a toy in the colour she wanted.

🕷in her adult life Heather has made it her life's goal to torment One Man (John Seed) and she has been doing so wonderfully. She is indiscriminate in who she uses to achieve making his life the worst and she doesn't care who or what is destroyed in the process.

🕷She's stolen deeds from the hands of grieving widows after a hearty amount of emotional and mental manipulation.

🕷She was also in a large crime ring for a while during her lawyer days, she ran a good drug trade and had almost all of Atlanta's CEO's in every line of work under her heel, she even had dirt on the Mayor and got special favours from them every now and then.

🕷Her crimes go on and on but she indulges in a bit of everything, most recently she's found setting people (specifically angels) on fire is quite funny.

🕷She loves being in a cult and being worshipped as a herald, she deserves it after all, though she's not kind to any of the people in her care and uses Bliss (a drug) to make them all her perfect puppets. She took notes from her fellow herald Faith but likes to keep her underlings a little more mentally present so they can actively grieve their actions as they committ them.

🕷And after she's bored of committing atrotcities she sits at the Fathers side and goes along with his plan, more enthusiastically than the other heralds, just so she can encourage him to go further down the rabbit hole and drive him further into his own madness. All this to achieve her one goal of making John have just the worst day ever. <3

🕷She's like most villains who don't realise the one thing giving her purpose and reason to live is the one thing she wishes to destroy and eventually if or when she achieves that goal she'll be an empty husk with no clear drive left for anything. The crimes won't taste as sweet and waking up won't be as satisfying knowing her existence isn't bringing immense pain to John. But at least she'll be in charge of a cult (if they don't kill her in outrage over her killing off their original leaders that is.)

Please vote for her she looks really pretty covered in blood and she's taking applicants for personal worshippers who she'll totally be 10% more niceys too and she'll give you a free tattoo that's totally not a branding or anything <3333

#idk how to tag this vote for my murder wife !!! #oc: Heather Lucille Valentine #Far Cry Tag

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z Side Story: Plan to Eradicate the Saiyans  (1993) OAV 2

This is the second half of the so-called “Lost Movie” of DBZ. In the previous installment, Goku and his pals tried to stop a machine from polluting the whole world with Destron Gas, but it turns out the only way to save the Earth is to confront the evil genius who built the machine, Dr. Lychee.  According to King Kai, Lychee lives on the Dark Planet, said to be at “the end of the universe”. 

Okay, so I went over the details in my liveblog of part 1, but in brief: this thing isn’t a movie or a special of any sort.  It’s a direct-to-video animation which serves as a walkthrough of a video game released in 1993. This is why the first half was so thin on plot.  So far, it’s just been the good guys battling a bunch of identical monsters as they clear various checkpoints on their way to the main goal. 

At the end of Part 1, it was explained that they would need to go out into space to confront Dr. Lychee, and Part 2 opens with a synopsis of Part 1, but the narrator also explains some stuff that didn’t happen in Part 1, like Goku’s team getting a jewel called “Gekinmum” at an island called “Bunbuku”.  They used this jewel to build their spaceship, because, sure, why not?  I’m assuming this Bunbuku Island mission was a stage in the video game but it wasn’t worth depicting in this OAV.  And yet, they still had to mention it, because it’s part of the game, and I guess players would need to know about it?  I guess what I’m trying to say is that the video game connection really bogs things down a lot. 

So now the gang have to go to the Dark Planet, and they get there.  They just sort of fly through space for a while and then Gohan spots it in the window.  Good eye, kid.

Then this happens, and I have no idea what it means.

Ring of Break-Evil?  Pearl of Break-Evil?  I just want to see guys fight.

So there was a space storm on the way to the Dark Planet, but King Kai helped them navigate through it, possibly with the help of the Ring and Pearl of Break-Evil?  This absolutely sucks.  I hope that video game was fun to play, because it’s really dragging this OAV into the ground.

So they finally reach the Dark Planet, and this robot here is guarding it.  I think his name is God Guardon.  There’s four of these in the game, and you have to defeat them all to get to Dr. Lychee.  In this OVA, we only see Goku fight one, and it’s a pretty quick fight.

The gang all reunites in this one room, and everyone is pretty sure Lychee must be there, because it’s the only room they haven’t checked.

Lychee comes out and delivers his usual spiel about his long-awaited vengeance, and how he plans to have revenge to his heart’s content, etc. etc.  Lychee is a Tuffle scientist, and he’s angry about how the Saiyans, led by Vegeta’s father King Vegeta, conquered his home planet.  So he attacked the Earth with Destron Gas, so that the surviving Saiyans would come to the Dark Planet, where he could destroy them personally.

Thirty years later, I’m not sure anyone remembers or cares about the video game, so the only real value of this OVA is the way it builds upon the Tuffle Lore introduced in Dragon Ball Z Episode 20.  Real quick: The Tuffles had an advanced civilization on Planet Plant, and then a band of Saiyan refugees came to them seeking help.  The Tuffles welcomed them to settle on Plant, and they lived in peace for a time, but then the Saiyan population increased, and eventually King Vegeta led the Saiyans into war against the Tuffles, eventually driving them to extinction. 

That’s what Dr. Lychee wants revenge for, and he points out how the Saiyans repaid Tuffle kindness with genocide.  However, Vegeta responds to this by claiming that the Tuffles treated the Saiyans like slaves.  And this is a big deal, because it’s the first time we’ve seen any sort of justification for the Saiyan side of the war.  Lychee calls the Saiyans unforgivable, but Vegeta calls the Tuffles unforgivable right back.

Lychee just brushes off Vegeta’s accusation, so there’s really no way of knowing the truth about the Saiyan-Tuffle War. Did the Tuffles oppress the Saiyans until an uprising became inevitable?  Or did the Saiyans plot against the Tuffles from the start, biding their time until they could make their move to claim the whole planet?  All I know for sure is that Vegeta doesn’t feel even a little sorry for what is dad did to the Tuffles, and Lychee is quite happy to destroy all life on Earth just to wipe out the last remaining Saiyans. 

So we’ve established why Lychee is doing all of this, now it’s time to get into how.  As he explains it, near the end of the Saiyan-Tuffle War, when the Tuffles were on the verge of extermination, Lychee developed a weapon called Hatchiyack, which could “amplify the energy of spite.”  Lychee’s plan was to use the Tuffles’ collective hatred of the Saiyans to power Hatchiyack.  Once fully energized, Hatchiyack would then evolve into a living creature of its own, one with the power to create Ghost Warriors, like the ones Goku fought on Earth.

The problem was that Hatchiyack would need time to absorb the necessary hatred to complete its evolution, and the Saiyans weren’t going to just wait around for that to happen.  There’s some shots of Saiyan-Tuffle combat during this exposition, and I think the idea here is that it’s depicting Lychee’s efforts to protect Hatchiyack and keep the Saiyans away for as long as possible.  He had Hatchiyack loaded onto a spaceship that he tried to use to escape the planet, but the Saiyans killed him before he could launch it.

So the ship took off, and Hatchiyack flew aimlessly through space, presumably absorbing the hatred of Dr. Lychee as he died. Eventually, Hatchiyack reached the Dark Planet, where it evolved further and built the fortress where this scene takes place.  And it created the Ghost Warriors of Frieza, Cooler, Turles, and Lord Slug. 

Goku puts two and two together and concludes that Lychee himself is a Ghost Warrior, and Lychee confirms this.  Okay, so two questions here.

First, how and why would Hatchiyack create Ghost Warriors of Frieza and the movie villains?  I mean, Hatchiyack would have no idea who those people are.  I mean, is the idea here that Hatchiyack was sitting on the Dark Planet for decades, passively absorbing anti-Saiyan hatred from all over the universe?  I mean, that would explain it neatly, I guess, but they never spell that out in the script. 

Second, why does Lychee’s Ghost Warrior form look so weird?  He’s got blue skin, bulbous growths on his head, and really long fingers.  Oh, and one of his eyes is all white and the other is red.  It’s not like the other Ghost Warriors were distorted this way, so why him?

Anyway, Lychee declares victory, and the fight starts.  He has an energy barrier around himself, but the Z-Warriors attack relentlessly to break through it. 

As they fight, Goku points out that while the Saiyans may have done terrible things, Lychee’s hatred is unreasonable, because he’s dragged the Earth into his vendetta.  Also, while no one in the anime points this out, none of the four Saiyans in this room had anything to do with the Tuffle extinction.   Vegeta seems to think it was justified, but the point is he wasn’t even born when it happened.  Neither was Goku or their respective children.  Lychee is only trying to kill them because there are no more Saiyans left to kill.  I suppose there is a certain logic to this.   Lychee’s not just trying to avenge the deaths of his people, he’s trying to avenge their extinction.  For him, the scales won’t be balanced until King Vegeta’s entire species is destroyed, which means killing innocents like Gohan and Trunks.

As for the Earth, Lychee simply doesn’t care what happens to it.  He’ll gladly destroy every living thing on Earth if it means he gets his revenge.  And you know, that makes sense too.  Maybe the living Dr. Lychee might have had second thoughts about involving the Earth this way, but he died a long time ago. All that’s left now is the hatred he felt for the Saiyans, which has been absorbed by Hatchiyack and used to create this Ghost Warrior.  It’s just a shell of the original Lychee, incapable of pity, or fear, or anything but a burning need to eradicate the Saiyans.

This callous attitude fires up the good guys, and they batter away at his force field until at last Goku can break through it with a Kamehameha.  Then Vegeta follows up with a Final Flash to kill Lychee.  Hooray!

King Kai contacts Goku to tell him the last Destron Gas generator on Earth has been disabled, and now the Earth is saved!   Great work, team!  Let’s go to Dairy Queen!

Then we... roll credits?  Wait, something doesn’t seem right.

Yeah, that was just a fake out.  Lychee reassembles himself and reminds the good guys that he’s a Ghost Warrior and he can just keep coming back no matter how many times he’s destroyed.  Except, no, because if that were true then they’d still be fighting Frieza back in West City. 

The idea here is that if you beat the video game in a certain way, killing Lychee gives you the regular ending, but if you do it a different way, you get the “true” ending, which is what we’re seeing depicted here.  Again, if this thing were a movie, it would suck, because so much of the presentation is built around the premise of being a walkthrough of a video game most of the audience wouldn’t be familiar with.

So Vegeta blows up Lychee a second time, and I guess this is supposed to be different somehow?

Lychee turns into a little glowing raindrop and continues to rave about the Saiyans until Vegeta steps on him.

And that seems to awaken something in Hatchiyack.  Pink lightning flashes everywhere and Goku asks King Kai for an explanation.   According to King Kai, Hatchiyack just absorbed the energy of spite from Dr. Lychee, and this exceeded its capacity.

Okay, I call bullshit.  We already established that Hatchiyack absorbed the hatred of Dr. Lychee when he died back on Planet Vegeta.  That’s how Hatchiyack was able to bring him back as a Ghost Warrior in the first place.  So now we’re saying that Hatchiyack can absorb Lychee’s hatred again and get a power boost out of it?   That’s stupid.  That’s really stupid.

Vegeta likes it, though.

Maybe not.

Okay, so we go through this whole elaborate light show, basically a shittier rip-off of Broly’s big transformation sequence in Movie 8, and what we end up with is this big red guy.  This is Hatchiyack in his final form.  And like Super Android 13, he just sort of clobbers all the good guys and nothing works on him. 

Also he’s got this big power move where he crosses his arms and glows and then he makes a big energy blast. 

Goku even says that this guy is about as strong as Broly, just to really drive home the point that we’re just doing the Movie 8 fight again, only less good.   But he’s found a weakness in Hatchiyack’s design.  That goofy super attack of his takes 15 seconds to charge, and... I’m not sure I understand why that helps.  I think the idea is if you attack him at 14 seconds you can get a free hit in, but it doesn’t quite line up with what they do in the cartoon.

There’s a whole bit where Piccolo is beat up, but he gives Gohan a senzu bean first and then tells him to give the other three beans to the rest of the team, which is very selfless of Piccolo, but why did they only bring four beans on this mission?  Oh well.

Anyway, the four Super Saiyans get healed up and then they count to fifteen and fire their best hand lasers at Hatchiyack, which somehow kills him.

Goku teleports them back to Earth before the Dark Planet explodes, and now that last Destron machine is destroyed for real. 

Oh, and Chi-Chi’s still waiting for Goku and Gohan to come in for breakfast.  Uh-oh!

So yeah, this OAV sucks.  All it has going for it is the mystique of being the “lost” movie or OAV, or whatever people want to call it.  The music is blah, the plot is so thin it only has one side, and the bad guy makes no sense at all.  If Hatchiyack could kill everyone with Destron gas, then why didn’t it just do that?  Maybe there’s a moral there about hatred and revenge clouding one’s judgement, but I feel like we already covered that with Dr. Gero and his androids.  Actually, Hatchiyack kind of resembles Cell in that respect, since they’re both ultimate weapons designed to win a war that already ended a long time ago.  The difference is that Cell’s powers make sense.  He’s cloned from other fighters, including Super Saiyans, so it makes sense for him to fight and defeat Super Saiyans.

For that matter, Hatchiyack and Lychee kind of resemble Broly and Paragus, since they had a similar vendetta against King Vegeta, which ultimately boiled down to luring the four surviving Saiyans to a remote planet and then beating them up until the planet exploded.   The difference is that Broly’s powers make sense.  He’s a Super Saiyan, only stronger, so it makes sense for him to fight and defeat Super Saiyans. 

I could appreciate Hatchiyack as just a big burly dude who’s been filled with all of the Tuffle’s collective loathing for Saiyan-kind.  That’s actually pretty cool, but this whole Ghost Warrior bullshit is where it goes off the rails.  Can you destroy a Ghost Warrior or not?  This OAV is the one that asked the question, and it can’t even make up its mind about the answer.  Did Hatichyack invent Destron Gas?  Is that a Tuffle chemical weapon?  If so, how did King Kai and Dende know about it?

There’s just a lot of half-baked nonsense in this thing.  Every so often, you get thrown a bone, like Vegeta posturing about how he wants to be the one to kill Lychee, or Piccolo feeding Gohan a senzu bean, or Trunks doing sword stuff with that chunk of ice, but it’s all hollow.  It just feels like they’re going through the motions to make a formulaic Dragon Ball Z story.  It’s like how the movies are derivative of the TV anime, only worse.  It’s like Movies 6 through 11 are a TV series and this OAV is the movie they made about it.  Movie squared.

The only redeeming quality is the impact this thing had on Tuffle lore, although considering where that road leads next, that might be a dubious distinction...

#dragon ball #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #plan to eradicate the saiyans #goku #dr lychee #hatchiyack #vegeta #trunks #gohan #piccolo #king kai

[detectivemaker]

The return of the compilation of ideas I have

1. Batman does allow metahumans into Gotham but only a limited amount of each type (ie, only two kryptonians, or only three speedsters), the rogue's help inForce these limits, here is a scene I thought of

Clark drives in his car, to the Border of Gotham that separates it from the rest of America, he parks at the Crossing booth and turns his head to begin speaking to the officer but he can only stay in shock at the man that stands before him

jervis tech trust in a gcpd officers uniform stands in the booth, staring down the man in the car as if analyzing him to compare him to someone in his memory." sir, I'm going to need to ask you to turn around" jervis  says finally after what seems like an eternity of staring, in response to the confused look he gets from Clark he gives an exasperated sigh and presses a button which closes the garage like entrance to the border crossing hut

" okay Mr Kent, you probably don't know the rules of our fine City, but there's a limit of the amount of metahumans of your type allowed in the city" the short man says punctuating his statement by pulling out a booklet from the pockets of his police uniform pants," it says here in the book" he turns around to show Clark the page on how many kryptonians are allowed in Gotham, " then only two of your kind all loud in the city, and seeing as both your youngest son and cousin are in this city, you're not allowed in", Clark is about to attort but the blonde continues

" unless you have invitation from the Batman or any of his gaggle of sidekicks, but I would have gotten a call about that and I haven't so you don't"  his hand moves to the garage button but Clark blurts out," I'm actually going to pick up my kid" holding the blonde in his tracks

" oh, if that's your reason for wanting entry, you can go through" he presses the garage button and and Clark drives into the city

2. The many reasons that Gotham is a crappy place, be it the greed that seep through the veins of just about every person of wealth in the city, or the corruption interlocks itself into the brickwork of the police office, or the seemingly endless tidal wave of mad men and women that seem hell bent on blowing up any building they see, but another reason many people seem to overlook are the many curses etched into the very brickwork of the city, all these curses seem to coalesce into one goal

drive anyone who had a chance at a bright future into the dark pits of Madness,

and now I pose you a question dear readers: what would happen if the villains learned about this curse that damn them to the Halls of Arkham

some may say they wouldn't care, and for many interpretations of the characters that would be true, and that's true for many of my au's villains, but not for The dork Squad and the many mad men and women the call of the members of this squad friends

you see from the support they gained from the other members of the group and their friends in the halls of the asylum, these three men have gained some control of their lives back, but deep inside themselves they know that something dark looking in the very bones of this city wants to drag them down to the deepest levels of Madness, so deep that no amount of medication or professional techniques could ever bring them back, jervis feels it the most potently, sometimes he swears he can see the dark tendrils of the madness curse trying to get under his skin into his very DNA

and now I posed you another question, what would the Batman do if his villains decided to leave town, in an attempt to escape the curse trying to drag them into the depths of insanity?, what do you attempt to talk them not until leaving?, or he join their pilgrimage and leave his home to rot in the miasma of its curses?

For you see though he can fight the aristocrats, eventually they'll find a way to turn the curse, from a slow acting rot of the Mind, into a potent Blast Of Madness that destroys all mines it comes in contact with, and they will use this madness gun to neutralize anyone they believe to be in cohorts with the bat, until there's no one he can turn to and they turn the curse on him

3. Someone made a post that compared the Jurassic costume changes that drove his head in the Arkham series to the costume changes in Alice madness Returns, and it makes me think of a story, be told through video fanfiction or comic book, of an alternative playing out of the events of Arkham City from the Hatter's perspective

the story is played out as moments in his life where he decides to change his costume

his original costume is a colorful affair, his hair was it's natural red and he had sideburns

the First costume changes is prompted by the Scarecrow who gives him the idea to embrace his villainous side and lose the sideburns, oh and dye his hair a different color

the second costume change  is prompted by Hugo ripping apart his very identity and leaving him to piece himself back together

the third costume change  is finally decided entirely by himself again, it takes aspects from his other outfits and coalesces them and do something that's entirely him again, he turn to hair to its original red but doesn't bring back the sideburns, this is the outfit he kills Hugo in

I'd like for the moment he decides to change his outfit to be describe or visualized as him mentally drawing out the new costume, except for the one that's prompted by Hugo, it should be shown as Hugo ripping apart his old drawing of his outfit and leaving him to tape it back together

#Jervis Tetch #Jonathan Crane #edward nygma #Dork squad #hugo strange #batman #gotham #ideas

[fearofahumanplanet]

5 Things You Never Get Tired of Writing

So, rules first: List five things you never get tired of writing. It can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Then tag five people!

Tagged by @maybenow22 (thank you! This looks interesting)

Tagging @satansspikeybutthole, @equusgirl-writes, @kaiusvnoir, @dgwriteblr, @ehlaaaaaaaa

Let's start off with a doozy...

Death

Though, not just "people die a lot". I think people have noticed this already by now, but playing with the line between life and death or the lack thereof is one of my favorite storytelling indulgences. I have had two (2) separate books centered on protagonists that are brutally killed and then resurrected by enigmatic goddesses to seek vengeance, so I mean... Not to mention Serpents has all its death gods, and...

Listen, to be honest here, I've died before (had one of those "heart stopped for a little moment" experiences) and I have not been the same since. This shit is my brain worms. I eagerly confront death at every given opportunity. It is So Fascinating to me.

Serpents

Though, again, not in the typical sense. The actual type of dragon (and snakes) are certainly a common motif, but I more specifically tend to use serpents as a metaphor for scapegoats, pariahs, and ostracized innocents. Every book I've ever written is about folks like this, and that's not a trend I ever see stopping. The oppressors have had enough stories - it's time to find the heart in the hated.

(Can you tell I have three Cluster B personality disorders?)

The Ocean

Ah, the ocean...

It's the only place I feel calm, rested, at home. If I could sit on the beach for the rest of my life, I would. If I could run to the beach in all my moments of pain, I would. Hence, it shows up in my writing a lot, but rather unusually considering my circumstance, I tend to use it as a metaphor for grief, loss, depression, etc. I think it's just great imagery - beautiful and placid or perhaps even excitable on the surface, but the deeper you go beneath the waves the darker it gets.

Obsession

Blame my borderline ass for this once, but the topic of obsession never ceases to fascinate me. All my characters tend to be obsessed with someone or by something in some way - it's what drives them. Why can't Karma let go of what Laurie did to her? Why can't Striguil let go of the religion that's broken him? Why can't Jörmungandr forget Badb, her mother, Asgard, etc. after thousands of years? Why can't Huītzilōpōchtli settle for what they've already achieved for Mexica?

For me, it's simple. I'm borderline. For everyone else though - why? I never get bored of asking.

Tragedy

Y'all saw this coming.

Every story I've written has been a tragedy. I fancy them as my calling. I call my Muse "Mel" (short for Melpomene, the name of the Greek Muse of Tragedy). Every story I write, while not necessarily doomed to a sad ending, will see a character destroy some part of themselves to achieve their goals. They will always give up the things they never thought they could. They will always succumb to mental illness or tear themselves apart to save everyone around them.

Why am I drawn to tragedy??? I'll just point to the Cluster B disorders again :P

#tag games

[missinghalf]

This is a space where I write about the disaster my life has become.

I'm not going to mention details about myself here, so you won't find my age, gender, or orientation anywhere. I don't intend to follow anyone from this blog at all, so I don't think it will be a problem.

TL;DR: In the last few months I was hit by a car, my partner of 8 years left me unexpectedly, I lost my job, and I lost my apartment. This has been deeply traumatic and I still don't really know what to do with myself about it.

I'm living with my parents in the same house that my partner and I spent the pandemic living together in. It's also my childhood home. It's been very painful.

My injury has had lasting ramifications. My shoulder was destroyed and had to be put back together with a bunch of screws and plates. I can use the arm, but I can't use it well, and it'll likely need to be replaced a few decades from now. I consider myself pretty lucky.

My ex and I had been having some difficulties, but none that indicated to me that they'd leave. We had extended conversations where they were very clear that they had no intention of doing so, but this wasn't the case as it turns out. We talk rarely, mostly for logistical reasons, as some of my stuff is still at the apartment and we share custody of a cat.

We had been sharing an apartment and had chosen to move prior to the breakup due to rent increases. We ended up choosing to live together after the breakup anyways as it was more affordable, but my ex-partner wanted to break contact for a month and I just never ended up moving in to the new place. Now that I have close to no income, I can't afford to pay rent anyways.

I have debilitating mental illnesses which, for obvious reazons, have gotten much worse. I don't have access to the medication I need due to shortages, so the problems persist. I've spent a lot of time wishing that car had just killed me. It'd have made things a lot easier and I could've gone the rest of my life not knowing my partner didn't love me. Sadly I remain alive and deep in unreciprocated love.

Now, the big question I'm sure you're asking yourself: "Why are you telling me all of this?"

Because I've been talking to a journal for months and it's driving me insane. I don't know why it's helpful to send my thoughts out into the void like this, but it is. So here we are.

"I think I know you"

You probably don't. Plenty of my, and my ex's, friends are on here so it's possible. You can ask, but I may not reply. If you're my ex, I promise I'm not adding the comma splices on purpose to piss you off. I just suck at noticing them.

Buckle in and read on if that's what you want to do. I have no goals for this blog and I'll be sharing pretty minimal details. Bear in mind that my point of view is a biased one.

[antonettegison10]

The Earth and I

It is a delight to feel the grass at our feet, to witness the flowers thriving in the fields, to breathe in the fresh, cool breeze, to feel the warmth of the sun's first rays in the morning, to see how the light scatters on the sky and how the colors flicker with life, to feel the earth sing to its core, and to simply stand amidst the enormous paradise. But in reality, such a paradise shrinks and is on the verge of inexistence. In a fast-progressing world, it is as if, in a second, we can destroy the world. As stewards of nature, we were not meant for destruction. We were meant for a purpose, and that is to protect and nurture God's creation. It is not a second too late to create change. It all starts with believing in the power that we have. As human as we are, we face battles every day. As a society, we cannot perfect every situation or rise up as a perfect whole. We have our own stories of crests and episodes of troughs. Our lives are like parabolas, and their vertices can be the turning point in the midst of our triumphs or sorrows. Regardless of where we are or at which point we are in, it is important to have a leap of faith in everything we do because that is where every positive change begins. For you, for me, and for Mother Earth, let us take a step, believe in ourselves, and stay grounded and focused on our goal, which is to save our only home. ----------‐-------------‐-------------‐-------------‐--------- We are One with Mother Earth By Mary Antonette A. Gison The Earth, as ethereal it is in all its grandeur, is fading before us. Every life here on Earth, which was once thriving, is now deteriorating, withering every single day. We will never realize that all other life forms will be gone not until it really did all vanish. We will never feel the sense of urgency unless the very last bits of life are clutching at its edge. The worst of all, the moment right now could be these “last bits” to save nature. Mother Earth — a sanctuary where all living beings are supposed to coexist. For that reason, it was called a common home and a gift. While the other one thrives and while the other suffers, this will eventually befall all of us. Each is integral to foster as a community. As stewards of nature, let us stand united and let us spread love so that we can eventually witness a glimmer of hope in achieving our common goal which is alleviating the suffering of nature. It's now or never to have everyone on board, steering towards the dream of a healthy environment; otherwise, this dream dies in our hands without any action. Together, let us plant trees and dispose our trash to its rightful place. Hand in hand, the government should be in communion with nature by mobilizing their assets for it. We can even initiate and advocate for nature or at least volunteer for environmental causes such as coastal clean-ups, waste segregation, and donation drives. Let us also hear the voices of everyone and their perspectives on climate change. Whether big or small, these collective efforts matter because every action will build into a masterpiece and a hundredfold of positive changes. It's really just important for everyone to do something about the situation and work on this little by little. If one cares, if we all care, change can always happen. Earth can be revived with every step to achieve this mission. Coupled with our collective efforts, we are all in this together. Let's not wait for regrets to happen. The unified change starts now. #TheEarthandI #ScienceEnglishMathMonth2023@CSJ #Grade11STEM1BlessedRosalieRendu

Project in Empowerment Technologies Submitted by: Mary Antonette A. Gison Grade 11-STEM 1 Blessed Rosalie Rendu Submitted to: Mrs. Jayrallyn M. Mayordomo Teacher in Empowerment Technologies

[deesims4]

a night out

another time that they choose to try destroy me and drug me. And somehow they almost destroyed me. Benzo this time. Im so use to it now that i have drugtests at home.

I just really wish this to end. I just want to live my life and in peace. Why are people so very mean?

Its like not even mean its like evil.

they somehow manage to take/steal my car "the black audi" and now they use it to make me jealous or something? But what? I bought it! its so wierd. I hate this situation and seems to never end.

They are so jealous of me that it seems that every chance they get to destroy me they do it. I just got a new job and then we were celebrating these two very very busy weeks. And it was a lot of champagne and so on. I had so much fun and this guy i have been dating for the last years was supposed to pick me up. But instead they just watch me waiting there. He just took the audi and tried make me jealous. Driving pass me and like being so angry so jealous i think. Cause the champagne cost so much money and it was so much of it.

I just really wanted to have fun. But he planned the whole time to destroy it for me and drugged me with benzo before i went there. How i dont know. I got drunk and i have blackout wich the benzo caused. He just watched me there waiting in the rain sitting alone. Outside my work. They took all my stuffs like phone and credit cards and so on. (the work found it) and i couldnt call anyone and so i went to the gasstation and there the police took me to sleep at the police for the night.

How can someone be so cruel and do this to me? So jealous that they dont care what happened to me. Everybody called my mom and even the boss of the whole hotel called my mom and wondered if i was missing cause they found my clothes from my bag and thought something happened to me.

I couldnt answer anyone cause my phone was there. And they have even been so mean so they putted my phone inside the toilet. .

I went to this guy today and i wondered why he did this. He just refuse to talk honest and try to make me look like i was with someone else. . Even though i know it was all his fault. I got so angry at him and we fighted a lot. He talkes to me about "pride" and so on, and then makes me look like i did someething wrong and suddenly he is mad at me? BUT I HAD BEEN SLEEPING AT THE POLICE and i know that he knew it. Yet he refuses to take any fault in it and says i deserved it. It makes me so sad and angry how someone you been with for so long time can be so mean and cruel to the one that actually loved him.

I just really have to stay focused now and not loose grip of what my goals are. Even though i really would want to hit him and destroy his things and make revenge. I wont cause i dont want to be as bad as he is.

the worst thing is when someone you really love do this really cruel and mean things to you. if it was a stranger or something. I wouldnt care. But i cared for him. But now i really have to move on. I cant accept this is my life anymore.

I cant be with someone who is this jealous.

if he had acted good from the beginning and be a good boyfriend and so on, he could have been there celebrating with me. But that is impossible.

I will use this all as a big lesson. Some people comes as blessings and some are lessons. This is a lesson. I dont want to be with someone who is jealous of me. And so cruel. Evil.

I really start to hate him. Them. But at the same time i pitty them. I feel sorry for them. Cause they r so like jealous of people. They should have focused on themself. But instead focus on destroying others.

I am going to buy a new car as soon as i can have money again and then i will move away from here. Somewhere where they dont know where i live. I am thinking of actually getting like secret identity to protect myself from people like this.

Yet i am glad i was there. At this event, it was a really fun party and i have drinked so much expensive champagne in my life. They came in with like big Magnum champagnes that was glowing and girls where dancing in gold when they brought it. It must have cost like around 30k or something.

I dont want to spend that much on champagne actually i think its a waste and just like for show but yes it was fun. Great experience.

We were at the VIP table also. It was so cool.

I can see if someone gets jealous. But like that ? I mean... hmmm... sending me to the police is a little bit extreme.

Tomorrow i will go and collect my things and apologize that they thought i was missing. And then i will be more careful going to those events. I wasnt prepared at all for it. I thought we would sit and drink cocktails and talk kind of. But it was super powerful nightclub. With champagne everywhere.

#daniellaeer #daniellaee

[tombeane-blog]

Sweepings From The Cutting Room Floor

March 2023

Ideas bore into my head and gnaw at me, demanding that I stretch them into a blog.  So I spend a few days gnawing back at them.

Often, I realize they will never become blogs - they are too stupid or they aren't stupid enough or the timing isn't right or there's just not enough there there.

Occasionally, Vern reminds me that if I post that thing I will get a visit from some seedy divorce lawyer.

So they end up on the cutting room floor.

I got around to sweeping them up today and because I'm in a grumpy mood here they are:

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I'm 80 years old and like all 80 year olds, I know one thing....... Today's Current Popular Music Sucks Biggly.  

OK, I'll admit that my parent's generation thought that Elvis' hip gyrations were too dangerous for fragile young teenage girls.  

They felt that Sally, Suzy and Cindy were already emotionally unhinged from raging hormones, and, coupled with their naturally delicate feminine psyches it would push them over the edge.

Witnessing Elvis would drive them into a sex crazed frenzy and cause a nationwide baby boom. (Hoping they might be right, I gyrated my hips...... unfortunately, nothing.)

Probably every generation feels the same about most of the music that comes after their own. 

But what is different now, at this time, and this place, is that  IT......IS.......TRUE.

In early 2030 - you will no doubt find on the Internet one of those ubiquitous lists titled "The 50 Best Songs Of The Past Decade".

There will only be 7 songs on that list.  

I feel I'm being generous here.

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As we begin to deal with another Cold, Covid and Flu season, I was trying to think of the benefits of mild illnesses.

Like staying home and having your spouse wait on you hand and foot without being able to complain about it. 

"Another beer honey?  I need to keep my fluids up."

Or, "I'd love to come to your 4 year old son's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese but I'm thinking I may be coming down with the (cough cough)Covid (cough)".

How about, "For weeks after Covid destroys my sense of smell and taste, my wife's cooking seems to improve." (drdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr - drum roll please!)

(Totally off the topic but I'm on a roll here.)

"....When we were a young family just starting out, I always knew when dinner was ready - the smoke alarm would go off." (drdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr - I'm here all week folks!)

Vern just whispered, "Tom, WTF?  Are you insane?  You can't write that."

"I hear you Vern, but Rodney Dangerfield would've loved to have had those one-liners and there's freedom of artiastic expression or something - it's in the Constitution."

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My wife and I were visiting another couple many years ago and chatting about married life and husbands versus wives and the rules governing the battle of the sexes.  

My friend's wife said, "I'm really annoyed that every time I wash a load of clothes I have to reverse all of your inside-out socks."

My friend responded in a calm, problem solving and husbandly helpful way, "Well honey, if you would be a little more careful when you are taking my socks off, you wouldn't have that problem."

Strangely enough, they divorced some time later.

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There's that Ad you see on TV 87 times a day to sign up for a lawsuit against the U.S. Marines.   Got me thinking.  

So I'm starting a Go-Fund-Me page with a goal of $6.7 million dollars.  I will use it to hire the nation's top law firm, i.e., Dewey, Suem and Howe to start my own class action lawsuit.

I'm not sure what I'm going to call it yet but I do know what your TV will be shouting at you 87 times a day... 

"DID YOU SERVE ON THE U.S.S. LUCE (DLG-7) OR THE U.S.S. ROOSEVELT (CVA-42) DURING THE YEARS 1961 TO 1967?"

"DID YOU PARTICIPATE IN A MED CRUISE OR A WESTPAC CRUISE DURING YOUR SERVICE ABOARD?"

" IF, AS A RESULT, YOU STILL SUFFER LINGERING POST LIBERTY HANGOVER EFFECTS (PLHE) YOU MAY BE ELIGIBLE FOR A SIGNIFICANT UNMERITED PAYOUT!"

So join me.  It's simple.  Just send me $1,000 $5,000 $10,000 - whatever you can afford.  I'll put you on a list.

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