#The trio have forgotten what being human is like

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hurray 🎉 more asks!!

First off love-love your writing!

I'm not sure if you were the writer or if you've read the snippet. But there was one that I read where Captain Marvel gets de-aged into a child, a speaks an unrecognizable language child (like he was an actual adult not a kid pretending to be an adult). Everything is mostly fine until he asks for his parents and nobody knows who they are. Kid Marvel screams and a giant hole tears open and I assume the JL meets the Everlasting Trio.

I would love to see how you would continue something like this or write something of this nature.

Ironically, the champion of Magic was turned into a child with magic. It was one of those things that he was sure would be funny in a few years but not in the moment. Initially, Bruce had been horrified to see his teammate fall like that from the sky, his form shifting and changing into what could pass as a five-year-old right before his eyes.

The spell caster had unfortunately gotten away with a convenient portal, and they were left scrambling to catch Captain Marvel. There was also the issue of all the civilians that were displaced due to his rampage through the city of Fawcett City.

Bruce quickly worked to have Wayne Enterprise start funding the relief program for them, but it would take time, which was not something they had. He left it to Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman to get everyone sorted—the three were the best at working with scared civilians.

In the meantime, he Zeta-beamed himself, and the small child Marvel had become up to the watch tower. The boy had been unconscious the entire time, which worried Bruce. After a few tests and scans with the medical staff, as well as his own studies, it was decided that besides being de-aged, there was nothing physically wrong with Marvel.

They would just have to wait till the Champian woke himself.

Bruce wondered how he would take his new form. In all the research he had done on Marvel and the legends of the Wizard, the champion had never been depicted as a child. He had assumed this was due to the champion repeating in various forms- sometimes female, sometimes male- but never as a child.

If anything, Bruce had discovered that they were always at peak physical age, usually from twenty-two to thirty-five. He had assumed this meant the reincarnation or the selection for the champion was just made that way.

How foolish to think they were never children that grew to that age before proclaiming themselves as Captain Marvel.

"Where am I?" a child's voice called, surprising Bruce from his files on Captain Marvel. Twisting around, he finds himself staring into the doe-blue eyes of Captain Marvel.

For a moment, he is reminded of his various children with similar coloring, and it pulls on Bruce's heartstrings to see the distress on that little face. He raises his hands, making sure his voice is softer than his usual growl. Bruce became the vengeance, so every child should feel safe with him after all.

"You're safe here." He reassures, watching the boy's face twist. He steps closer, portraying comfort but not reaching out to touch. "Do you recognize me?"

"Are you a ghost?" The boy's voice is low, slightly fearful. There is no hint of recognition in his posture, expression, or voice. Bruce bites back a swear.

So much for that hope. Still, his teammate needs him. "No, my name is Batman. A few hours ago, we were, in fact, together against a magic user. You were hit and turned into a child. Does any of this sound familiar?"

The boy grips his blanket, bringing it up to his chin, and stares at Bruce with growing distress. He shakes his head just as tears start to swell in his eyes. It's not good at all. "Where are my parents? I want to go home."

He filed that away, wondering if there were any parents to contact for Captain Marvel. He's been around for hundreds of years. If he had been selected as a human, the myths implied, then his parents would have likely been long gone.

Bruce wonders if there is any way he can conceive Captain Marvel coming to live in the Wayne manor until he is turned back. He could leave him to live in the Watch Tower, but he hates the idea of it just as he thinks it.

His face crumbles as Bruce tells him honestly, "I'm not sure where your parents are, chum."

Captain Marvel's tears fall to the bed as he curls up. Bruce reaches out to give him a hug, trying to comfort the distressed child. He is just about to assure him he is safe again, and Batman will help him when the child lets out an ear-piercing scream.

It's high pitch enough that Bruce can't tell if the ringing he hears is from the sound or if it's only in his ears. He opens his mouth to ask when a portal—unlike the one the magic user had cast—rips open in the room.

Out steps a man with snow-white hair. On instinct, Bruce gathers Marvel in his arms, flinging them to the corner and throwing a Batarang at the intruder. He shields the boy behind him, pushing him toward the wall and growling at the man.

His batarang is shot out of the air with some kind of green ray, as the man's eyes narrow.

A sound escapes the man. The structure and expression of the man indicate that it's obviously a language, but Bruce doesn't recognize it. He can tell that the man is angry, though, and that's not something he wants anywhere near Captain Marvel in his current state.

"Who are you!?" He demanded, raising more weapons. "How did you get in!?"

Oddly, Captain Marvel speaks, his words similar to the language the others use, and the white-haired man's face softens.

"You have my son," The man says in perfect English. Bruce raises a brow.

"Do you know him?" He whispers to the wiggling child.

"Yeah, that's one of my dads." The boy whispers back, sounding a lot calmer now that his apparent father is around. Bruce cautiously steps away, watching Marvel run straight into the arms of the stranger.

The man meets him halfway with a loud, excited chirp and purr, bringing the boy into his arms and squeezing him into a tight hug. Bruce watches every hint of body language, concluding he is not lying about being the boy's father.

"I'm sorry about the scare. It's been a long time since Billy used his distress call. I got a little worried." After a few minutes of chirps and purrs exchanged between parents and child, the man says. He raises his head to stare at Bruce with a regal air.

An aristocrat. Bruce's mind whispers, wondering where this noble hails form. Nowhere on earth with his glow or bright eyes. Was Captain Marvel half-human? "It's alright."

"I'm Danny Phantom," Danny tells him, flouting over with an outstretched hand that is not holding his son up. "It's an honor to meet you."

Bruce returns the handshake, keeping his voice and tone even. "Batman."

But inwardly, he swears up a storm. He knows that name and recognizes the legends and myths. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, ruler of the connecting dimension of the muli-verse. It was one of the first beings he had encountered in his in-depth religious and culture studies, having seen the Ghost King be depicted throughout history even when he was lost in it.

One of the strongest beings to ever exist. Alongside, his wife and husband, who each ruled their own powerful area on the mortal plane- The Green that Posoisin Ivy and Swamp Thing gain their powers were said to be Samatha, the wife of the ghost King.

The meta gene—identified by the scientific community in recent years but proved to exist long before the first ancient Egyptians—was said to be a blessing from Tucker, the Husband of the ghost King. He was the one who appointed the first pharaohs, destroying the meta gene through their bloodline.

And Captain Marvel was their child.

No wonder the man was the champion of Magic. Who else was more qualified than the Heir to the Ghost King?

"It seems like a simple curse. It should reverse on its own," King Phantom comments while continuously turning his child this way and that, making the boy giggle. "It will wear off in only ten years."

Bruce wondered if he knew that was a very long time for humans. But what was a decade to a god?

"Batman was it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Call me Danny. I was thinking, since Billy will be stuck like this for ten years, maybe my family should go on vacation while he recovers." Bruce does not like the sound of this, but he can't deny the king's action as a bright light overcomes the glowing figure, and a regular-looking human is left in its wake.

"I'll call my husband and wife. Do you know if any properties are for sale in your neighborhood? I want Billy to be close to his work friends."

Bruce was right. He did not like this one bit. Should he risk war with the Infinite Realms to keep them out of Gotham? The answer was no, unfortunately, and he could try to push the family to move to Metropolis so they can be Clark's problem, but he knows that lying to higher beings is never a smart thing.

He sighs, tapping his wrist computer. "I know a realtor."

[waterlilydrops]

Unexpected Find

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

summary: As you were helping Lewis tide up the old apartment, you suddenly found out a video tape. However, as you inserted it into the VCR and pressed play, you realized just how interesting the content of this tape was.

word count: 4k

warning: 18+ only, nsfw, explicit sex content, threesome F/F/M involved Lewis, sex tape, reverse NTR, P in V sex, masturbation(f), slight Dom/Sub,spanking, dirty talk, blowjobs, mirror. If you feel uncomfortable, please exit promptly.

notes: When I saw the GQ video, I knew I had to write about it. Sorry not sorry for my dirty mind. English is not my first language, so feel free to correct me. And any ideas or advices are welcome.

As you were helping Lewis tidy up the old apartment, you suddenly found out a video tape. It had been forgotten behind his TV set, covered in a thick layer of dust. Initially, you thought it might be an old home video. However, as you put it into the VCR and pressed play, you realized what it was.

The overwhelming moans froze you in place as the trio on the screen writhed together, engaging in the most primal of human intercourse.

This is a sex tape.

And one of the main characters in it was your long term boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.

As you watched the intertwining bodies on the TV screen, it was hard to pinpoint your exact emotions at that moment.

Anger at being betrayed? Unlikely.

You knew deep down that you’ve been the only woman he’s been intimately involved with since being with you. The marker on the videotape clearly indicated a date from several years ago, serving as evidence of his past libertine at most. “Betrayal” was hardly applicable in this context.

Did it disgust you? You had never seen these two women in his social circle before, and it seemed like he had casually picked up two prostitutes and brought them back to the apartment you were preparing to move out of, playing threesomes on the same bed where you cuddled him every night.

But even through the screen, you could clearly see the latex stretched over his thick dick, not to mention witnessing one of the girls erotically rolling a condom onto him with just her tongue.

At least he used protection. You couldn’t ask much more from him at that moment.

With honesty, there was no anger, nor disgust. You stared at his muscular physique on the videotape, feeling all your rationality slowly slipping away, leaving only one thought occupying your mind.

Damn, he is really hot.

This is absurd.

As you watched your man being pleasured by two other unfamiliar women, eagerly licking the thick shaft that now finds its place inside you every night as you fall asleep, a clandestine and thrilling sensation swept through your entire body.

You watched as he confidently sat at the head of the bed, while the two women knelt before him, incessantly licking and teasing. You couldn't see that familiar shaft that had brought you countless pleasures peeking through the gaps in their heads - but now, it was held in the hands of two other women.

Lewis’s knuckles rested on the back of one woman's head, yet he didn't even spare a glance for them.

He first looked to one side of the bed. You knew there was a full-length mirror there. He squinted to admire the scene reflected in the mirror. Then his gaze pierced through the bed directly to the camera, as if he had sensed your presence, his bright black eyes staring straight at you through the space and time.

Instantly, you felt your pussy was soaking wet.

You always knew Lewis valued mental pleasure over physical gratification, but you never imagined he could remain indifferent even in such debauched circumstances.

If you hadn’t witnessed the whole scene, you wouldn't have believed that beneath his impassive expression, his impressive cock was being eagerly fought over by two women, being stuffed into their mouths.

His nonchalant expression was the best intense aphrodisiac for you.

You couldn’t resist him at all: that contemptuous desire for control, the aura belonging exclusively to the privileged elite, and the almost cruel calmness - as if no one could ever let him lose control.

But you had never seen him like this before. He was always passionate to the point of almost losing control.

He worshipped your body as if praying in a church, lavishing it with praise using the most eloquent language he could muster - his tongue would chatter incessantly, admiring your beauty in the most magnificent terms. Yet, incongruent with his tender words, his lower body moved with rapid and vigorous intensity.

He would use all his skills to coax your juices until it flowed, until it became thoroughly crimson and ripe, until your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. Only when he became the only driftwood you could catch in the wave of passion, he would he be satisfied, holding your hand tightly, sucking on your neck, bringing you to climax.

You found yourself distracted by thoughts of your intimate encounters, yet your eyes remained fixed on the screen.

Besides the women’s moans and his occasional sensual gasps, the air was filled with his carefully curated selection of sex music. You quickly recognized the song, his personal favorite - even now, he occasionally chose this song as the background music for your lovemaking sessions, as if he became particularly dominant and aggressive when listening to it, his actions was more rougher...

Rough, oh, that’s exactly what you crave right now.

It doesn’t mean you’re tired of his tenderness towards you in sex.

Occasionally, you just want him to treat you with the same lack of mercy as he does with slut. You want to be conquered and used by him ruthlessly, giving him seconds of surrender and climax, making you feel your unique value in his existence.

Just like how he treated those two prostitutes.

The mere thought of him teasingly calling you a “whore,” while ruthlessly humiliating you, made you instinctively clench your legs together.

Perhaps he could embrace you after this passionate lovemaking session, caressing your back and whispering apologies and declarations of love. But at least during sex, you seem to yearn more for the man on the other side of the television screen, who appears so effortlessly dominant and full of conquest in bed, making you climax directly with his cold and cruel yet handsome face.

The black-and-white video tape quality was remarkably clear, allowed you to even see every pulsation of the veins wrapping around his large phallus.

You may feel that there’s something not quite right with you.

Part of you is screaming in your mind: “Only I can suck this, only I have the right to take his glans into my mouth, whether licking or deep throating, only I can do it. If that shaft’s tip spurts cums - whether it’s precum or semen, it should be mine.”

That cock belongs to me.

But at the same time, another part of you feels that Lewis enjoying the services of two women simultaneously is truly intoxicating. Your inner pleasure cannot deceive you. You watched your boyfriend fuck another woman’s mouth, while your pussy lips continuously twitching, spitting out lewd fluids. You started to gently rub yourself, your face flushing with shame.

You watched as Lewis pushed away the woman, with complete indifference, who was fervently worshiping his cock - God, she even complained about it - and sat up on the bed.

He roughly pushed the other woman down onto the bed, lifted her legs onto his shoulders, without any foreplay, and began thrusting his huge cock into her without preamble, his back muscles tensing with aggressive contours.

You couldn’t help but let out a low moan, pushed your panties to the side and slid your fingers slide up between the folds.

You were masturbating while watching your boyfriend and someone else's sex tape.

It’s too much.

But this almost perverse behavior brought you an overwhelming pleasure.

Your teeth clenched, your right hand pressed against your clit, rubbing frantically. You imagined yourself as just one of his many women, becoming a jealous slut, kneeling between his legs, forced to lick and suck his thick, long shaft along with other women, waiting for this man’s favor. You had to resort to such lowly behavior to compete for his affection, to earn the right to be penetrated by his shaft.

“Look at the camera.”

You squint your eyes, feeling as if there are really two women watching you masturbate shamelessly. Meanwhile, your man is ruthlessly fucking another woman right in front of you.

But your gaze is fixed solely on him. You stared intently at his thrusting movements, watching the occasional sight of his thick member, constantly imagined how it would feel rubbing against your clit, how it would fill every corner of your body with its fullness, and the supreme pleasure it would bring as it moves vigorously inside you.

Waves of emptiness washed over your entire being from your lower body. You wanted to lay beneath him, pinned to the bed as he fuck you with wild abandon, instead of being left to satisfy your desires alone on the couch.

You are jealous of those two women.

Your teeth bit down on your lower lip, speeding up the movements of your hand, restraining the enticing moans in your mouth. Your gaze remained fixed on the screen of the television, watching as he thrust his hips, his cock pounding one of the women into a frenzy, occasionally emitting a sexy low groan.

Suddenly, as if sensing your fiery gaze beyond the camera, he brushed back his slightly disheveled braids with one hand, his sharp eyes locking onto yours. It was as if he was staring at prey he had set his sights on, his gaze devouring you.

Sticky liquid gushed out from within you. Your legs shivering lightly as you rode out your orgasm.

“Darling, could you help me…”

Lewis walked into the living room, his face filled with bewilderment as he loosened the half-tied tie around his neck. With just one glance, he noticed you lying on the couch, eyes dazed and legs still spread wide open, a puddle forming underneath you, soaking the sofa fabric with suspicious liquid, while droplets of juices trickled down onto the floor, and his “masterpiece” from years ago playing on the VCR.

He probably only stood there in shock for a few seconds before quickly piecing together the situation.

He hadn’t anticipated that the girl he had been carefully concealing his almost perverse desires from and treating as gently as possible would secretly yearn for his dirty and depraved side. What a surprise, isn’t it?

He licked his slightly dry lips, then simply pulled off the half-tied tie and tossed it aside, striding casually towards you. In just a few steps, his demeanor completely changed. His gaze turned sinister and dangerous, his strong figure almost completely engulfing you, the pressure overwhelming.

He bent down, leaning close to your ear, deliberately lowering his already sensual voice to a chuckle.

“Watching your boyfriend cheat on you with someone else in a video and masturbating to it. You really are a depraved whore.”

You lowered your eyes, eyelashes trembling lightly. Your legs, still tingling from the orgasm, couldn’t help but tremble a few times at his words, causing your butt to shake along with them. Lewis keenly caught the movement of it, his eyes instantly tainted with lust.

He ruthlessly slapped your still-dripping pussy, his demeanor intimidating. “So, my little slut, did you just sneak your fingers into the slutty cunt that belongs only to me?”

His touch ignited the desire deep within you once again, the emptiness in your lower body yearning to be filled by his manhood, longing to be thoroughly penetrated by him - not to mention your lewd sexual fantasies just moments ago. You looked into his eyes with a craving and anticipation that even you hadn't realized was there.

You wanted more.

“You know I will punish you,” he squinted, his cold and crazed expression blending with the one from the TV just now. His hand parted your pussy lips, exposing your tender flower, and he firmly pinched your swollen clit. “And you want this... right? you hungry little slut?”

“Are you enjoying watching your man fuck other women while you masturbate? Hmm, does it feel good to watch my cock slide into someone else’s pussy?”

The humiliation combined with the intense clitoral pleasure was almost too much for you to bear. You tilted your head back, emitting a pleasurable moan, your entire body tensing, toes curling comfortably on the sofa.

Lewis reached out and roughly pulled off your panties, bringing them to his nose and pretending to sniff them, then stared at your naked body expressionlessly.

You cowered under his gaze, the shame resurfacing once again, your ears burning hot, yet deep inside, you were eagerly anticipating what would happen next.

He delivered another harsh slap to your exposed butt, showing no restraint in his force, “Good girl, you’ll get everything you want.”

His large hands covered your butt, squeezing the cheeks, then he lifted you off the sofa, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. Instinctively, your legs hooked around his waist. He paid no mind to his freshly pressed trousers, simply sitting down on the water stain.

You blushed, emitting a low moan mixed with annoyance and shyness. Your whole body straddled his thigh, and you rubbed against it a couple of times. It slightly relieved the heat and emptiness.

Lewis lightly stroked your butt, leaving his handprints as if they were his exclusive signature on his property. He looked satisfied with his “work”, tilting his head to nibble on your earlobe.

“Now, let’s give the good girl a little reward,” his voice was muffled, “Do you want to suck my cock?”

Without hesitation, you instantly straightened up, your gaze towards his crotch bordering on crazed adoration.

He grabbed your hair, forcing your head down towards his crotch, inundating you with a tidal wave of male pheromones. He had no restraint, but the pain on your scalp was your best aphrodisiac. It seemed that ever since he appeared, your lower body had turned into a quagmire, and now it was escalating even more.

You immediately undid his zipper and pulled out the meaty shaft that brought you pleasure, your eyes revealing your true desires. Pressing your face against his fully erect member through his trousers, you eagerly breathed in the musky scent emanating from his lower body.

You rubbed your face against his cock, spit dripping incessantly, wetting his trousers because you forgot to swallow. Your spit mixed with his pre-cum, leaving a stain of unknown origin in his crotch.

“Do you like it?” Lewis watched as his girl, almost obsessed, rubbed against his penis. He felt an intense throbbing below, the swelling sensation in his chest almost bursting through his ribcage.

“Yes, sir…” You didn’t want to leave his cock for even a second. Your delicate lips pressed against it, nodding eagerly, intoxicated by his scent. The friction of the fabric made your face flush with heat. You continued to outline the contours of his manhood with your tongue, the fabric of his pants becoming disheveled.

Your rapid and hot breath sprayed onto his sensitive thighs, tormenting him in its own way.

“Take it out,” he commanded through gritted teeth, his voice husky. “This is the reward for my little slut.”

You lifted your eyelids, gazing at him in a daze, only vaguely noticing the veins bulging on his forehead, a sign of his long-held restraint. Underneath his calm facade, he was losing control - especially after his recent command. Trembling hands fumbled to undo his belt, unzip his pants, and eagerly retrieve the source of your countless pleasures, his massive cock.

“Look at the mirror,” he commanded, lowering his head. You turned your head to the side, seeing a slut kneeling between his legs, ass raised high, hands holding his monstrous shaft almost reverently. The stark contrast between the size of his cock and your face was striking, the steamy heat filling the air. Yet he remained impeccably dressed, leaning back on the couch - except for the dark cock you just extracted from his pants, ready for immediate use.

All your earlier fantasies seemed to materialize into reality. Blushing, you emitted a pleasured moan, as if abandoning yourself, burying your head into his crotch. His body was meticulously groomed, even his pubic hair. The coarse hairs tickled your face, every breath filled with his exclusive scent.

You pecked and kissed his vein-covered shaft, occasionally extending your tongue to lick every groove. Well-trained, you knew every sensitive spot on him, carefully teasing his coronal sulcus. His hand gently massaged your head, applying a slight downward pressure, the best encouragement you could ask for.

Struggling, you opened your mouth wide and took his massive glans inside, sucking hard, hearing his breath suddenly become erratic above you.

He’s losing control. You thought, your mouth hollowed out as you sucked, trying to hide your teeth as much as possible, the sensitive muscles of your throat contracting to please the man before you.

The TV still played the video of him with those two women, their moans filling the air. He whispered maliciously in your ear, “Arch your ass higher, just like them...”

You let out a whimper from your throat, feeling your lower body start to drip again at his recent words.

All your gasps and moans were muffled by his sex, lodged in your throat, leaving you with only the option to close your eyes and suck harder on that dick, trying to convey your enthusiasm and pleasure to him.

You weren‘t sure how long you had been at it, but you keenly noticed his balls starting to twitch, his muscles tensing – a clear sign that he was about to climax. So you sped up, eagerly licking and sucking, hoping for the cum you had been yearning for.

He sensed your intention and mercilessly grabbed your hair, forcefully pulling you away from his crotch, leaving behind a trail of lewd droplets. His dick, glistening from your attentions, was now covered in slick moisture. With one hand, he slowly stroked his shaft, seemingly easing the urge to ejaculate, while the other smoothly pulled you up from the floor and placed you on his lap.

“Do you want to be fucked in the same position as they are?" he whispered maliciously in your ear.

The TV in the living room was on all the time. You sneaked a glance at the screen, where he was pressing down on the woman who was on all fours, gripping her hair as he thrust into her relentlessly.

You suddenly felt like you had lost the ability to speak, shaking your head in confusion. There was a bitter sweetness in your heart, mixed with a strange sense of arousal.

He lowered his head and gently kissed your eyes, his hand blocking your view. Your eyelashes trembled in his palm, and you looked both lost and uneasy.

He regretted saying those words just then.

Lewis’s expression darkened slightly as he gripped his dick against your mound, but he didn’t rush to slide inside. Instead, he slowly teased your lips with his shaft. Your pussy had already been softened by the previous climax, and it eagerly and shyly sucked on his head, opening and closing with your breath. He greedily stared at the tender flesh hidden beneath your folds, his eyes already tainted by desire.

Even without penetration, the girth of his head brought you exquisite pleasure, not to mention his cunning use of the tip to tease your clit. Losing sight only made your body more sensitive, and each wicked prod from him made you tremble, every cell in your body clamoring for more.

The scene on his body could be described as a feast for the eyes.

Your delicate face was once again tainted by his lust, your cheeks flushed with a captivating blush, your succulent lips waiting to be tasted by him. He teased your pussy until sweet moans spilled from your lips, seemingly forgetting his earlier indiscretion.

He quietly breathed a sigh of relief, once again raising a playful smirk as he declared, “Now, the greedy girl will receive her reward.”

His thick cock mercilessly rammed into your pussy, spreading apart every fold within you and plunging deep into your depths. In the frenzy, your hands clenched his shirt, pulling off two buttons with his movements, revealing his muscular chest. No one cared about this ruined Armani shirt; all your attention was focused on the combine of your lower bodies.

Your pussy eagerly wrapped around his cock, the sensation tight, hot, and wet. But there was no discomfort; all emptiness was fulfilled in this moment. How long had you been craving this, perhaps since the videotape started.

He removed his hand from in front of your eyes and leaned in, biting down on your lips. His black eyes even glinted red with desire. His large hand gripped your thigh, the rough fingertips stimulating your exposed skin, forcefully pressing against your hips, occasionally letting out a rough breath from his throat. The massive object within continuously rubbed against every sensitive spot inside you, gently probing in circles at the cervix.

You felt weak all over, repeating his name incessantly from your mouth, your language skills shattered by the collision of his body's movements, only able to utter pleas with a hint of crying. Sometimes, you begged him to go harder, faster; then, moments later, you cried for him to go easier due to his relentless rhythm.

As your sweet moans suddenly escalated into a scream, accompanied by the tightening of your inner walls, a large gush of fluid erupted from deep within your womb while your pussy fervently squeezed his dick. You had reached climax, experiencing a squirting sensation. He turned his head, unlike before, biting into the side of your neck like a wild predator. With his low growl, you felt waves of semen spraying against your inner walls, almost filling you entirely.

Lewis held you tenderly in his embrace, enjoying the aftermath, then extended his tongue to lightly lick the red marks he had left from his bite - which would undoubtedly linger on your body for three to five days. His meticulously groomed hair was now disheveled due to the intense activity and sweat, yet after the aggression dissipated, he appeared strangely gentle and harmless.

He stood up suddenly, one arm still wrapped around you. This movement pushed his still partially hard cock deeper inside you, causing an unexpected sensation of weightlessness. Instinctively, you tightened your legs around his waist. He leaned down to grab the TV remote. Finally, he could shut off the noise.

Throughout the entire process, his large dick remained lodged inside your pussy, blocking the semen that would have otherwise flowed out due to gravity. His well-trained physique ensured that he could securely hold you in his arms with just one hand, without any swaying.

You sat astride his thigh, arms wrapped around his shoulders, your head resting on his tattooed chest. You were still immersed in the afterglow of climax, while he stroked your bare back, occasionally playing with your hair in his palm.

You lowered your head and took his nipple into your mouth, teasingly biting it lightly with your teeth, satisfied to hear his suddenly intensified breath.

You keenly noticed his cock inside you growing thicker and longer once again.

“There sir... all clean.”

“Ahhh... thank you baby.”

“Lew, I want to change the bed in the bedroom.”

“Hmm, we can get a bigger one.”

“And the sofa, change that too.”

“No, babe. There’s no need to change that. We’ve created beautiful memories on it.”

Here is part 2 :)

[nartothelar]

But for the vampire au, have you considered Emmet getting Severely Hurt™️ and Ingo turning him to keep his brother alive?

Or do they have an agreement to just let things happen?

“No.” Emmet responds simply, decisively.

The answer is expected and yet, the disappointment Ingo feels is an unwelcome heaviness, his constant frown turning genuine without it meaning to.

Ingo had asked the very same question thrice times now.

Once was when they were kids. It was casual inquiry that came with little prompting; he had asked out of curiosity more than anything. Ingo had asked Emmet after they had defeated a trio of challengers off hand. Emmet had laughed, light and airy, when he answered. They had gotten ice cream using their winnings after.

The second time had been following a much more harrowing experience. A safety check forgotten, a simple mistake by a depot agent newly hired, had resulted in a derailed train. Fortunately only a few were injured. Unfortunately, one of those few was Emmet.

Ingo had asked him with bags under his eyes, something quite silly since Ingo didn’t even need to sleep. (Was that makeup? Emmet had joked with an exhausted smile.)

Emmet, laying in that hospital bed, IV's in his arm and a cask around his left leg, had responded much the same, a chuckle rather than a laugh. Perhaps his headache had come back to manage much more than that. Ingo didn’t attempt to change his mind and offered him the chicken noodle soup Elesa had brought for him.

And the third time was right now: Ingo sitting across from Emmet in the dining room of their shared apartment. It was morning and even though the windows curtains were drawn, the room was illuminated with a soft glow. In front of his brother was a plate of eggs and toast, him nursing a cup of black coffee. In front of Ingo was just a cup of tea, untouched and cooling.

“But why don’t you want to be a vampire?”

“But why don’t you want to be a vampire?”

The way he asks shows his cards far to easily. Whoever had said Subway Boss Ingo was hard to read must have not tried at all.

His brother looks at him, assessing him, and then looks away.

Emmet is silent for a minute, simply gazing at the cup in front of him. His food was getting cold.

Most would think Emmet was being hesitant when answering, that this was a sign he didn’t want to answer at all. But Ingo knows him well. He knows he wants to go over what he will day and that he voices his thoughts properly.

Ingo is patient and waits. Finally, Emmet answers.

“I like the sun.” His brother says, looking at him. The color of his eyes haven’t dulled all these years. “It feels warm on my skin. It feels good.”

“I love eating. The taste, the action. Yup!" Emmet picks at his plate with a hum. "I want to eat what I like, when I like."

“I like my independence." Ingo's tea leaves an ashy taste as he sips it - a floral chamomile bag floats at the bottom of it. "I do not want to be dependent on others. I do not want to be dependent on things out of my control."

"I know that I will have to sometimes." Emmet really looks at him now. "And that is ok. But I still feel the same way.”

Ingo squeezes his mug, before he relaxes his grip. Emmet notices.

Emmet lays his palm on his chest, closing it into a fist near the middle.

“I like being human.” It sounds final, the words like a gavel to wood, the way it echoes in his mind. “I do not want to be a vampire.”

Ingo wants to argue. To convince him that the pros outweigh the insignificant cons, but he does not. No. Usually Ingo is more eloquent with his words, but the fear that rises up in his throat makes his usually well thought out words more brisk, more succinct, more honest as he says the obvious.

“But you are aging.” Ingo says. You are dying, Ingo tries, fails, and a refrains to add.

Ingo hands are smooth, his face without a wrinkle. He looks as the same as he as when he first became a subway boss. He has since he was sent to Hisui. Forever youthful. And Emmet.

Emmet's hands are calloused, wrinkled from years of maintenance at gear station. His hair is thinning and his temples were turning white. His stride not as brisk as it was years ago.

“I am.” Emmet replies. “And I will continue to age.”

Ingo knows Emmet. He is stubborn, just like himself. That is how he is. He knows he will not change his mind. And that makes him clench his jaw, look down at his cup with furrowed brow.

“Ingo.”

Ingo snaps his head up, fear turning to anger that makes him feel sick. He should not be angry, but he is.

“Then you plan to reach your final stop?” Emmet’s smile dims. Ingo continues anyway. “Leave this station?” Without me? Ingo clamps down before he utters the accusation.

“You....you will have me wait here for you to die? And do nothing?!”

And there it is. Ingo barring his greatest fear since he got turned. The thing that has plaguing his mind since he stood at the grave of his old clan leader in Hisui, at the cemetery where his other wardens were laid to rest. What he had realized as he saw time passes by, years of constant goodbyes and tearful farewells.

It was that, no matter how grand his ideals, the simple truth of the matter was that he was utterly powerless to the passage of time.

Ingo doesn't realize that he has stood up until he is already towering over Emmet's seated form. His fangs barred and he suspects his eyes are slits.

And despite that, Emmet looks calm. He looks...sad.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Ingo says softly, deflated as the anger leaves his body. To live on as those around him pass. To see enjoy his life without the people he cares most around him.

Ingo feels arms wrap around him and he wraps trembling arms around Emmet too, his head laying on his shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, simply holding each other, not letting go.

"I'm sorry I never gave you the choice." Emmet finally says. Ingo's hands grip at Emmet's shirt. "We were young. You were dying. And I was desperate. I did not want to lose you..."

Emmet pulls back after that, not all the way, but enough to look into Ingo's face. His fangs have retracted, his eyes normal again. "But those details do not matter now, do they?" Emmet sighs out, that sad smile still there.

"They matter. Of course they matter." Ingo protests, but he doesn't elaborate pass that.

Emmet looks at the floor, thinking about his words and looks at Ingo again before saying, "Everything reaches its final terminal."

"Not me." Ingo says. It comes out bitter.

"Everything does." Emmet repeats, shaking his head. He squeezes Ingo's forearm before he lets go. "I did not give you a choice. but you can choose for yourself now."

His brother’s crows feet, a result from decades worth of smiles, crinkle at the edges as he looks at him. "Just as I choose for myself."

Ingo dwells on those words, on what his brother is offering. A choice and a decision to make. Emmet looks at him and Ingo understands.

With a sigh (a concession, a compromise), Ingo nods and accepts Emmet's answer.

That heaviness Ingo feels is not fully gone from his mind, but it has lightened, the tension of the room dispersing like the morning fog.

Emmet notices, smiles, and sits back down to finish his breakfast. Ingo follows. And then the silence is filled anew with his brother's latest retelling of yet another dealing he had with a rude passenger yesterday.

Ingo listens and they both laugh and talk and all is right and as it should be that morning, in their shared moment of time.

Him and his brother were a two car train, always have been, no matter their differences. And no matter what, he was going to be there with him until his brother's final destination.

And then after that, once that engine has long gone cold, Ingo would decide when his last stop was too.

[lulystalgianature]

How the finale singlehandedly managed to make The Collector the most tragic character in The Owl House:

It says a lot when a crew demonstrates their talent by creating such a complex character with so little time left. The Collector (Naturally, spoilers ahead) Many suspected the redemption. But it’s not just the fact that it happened. It’s the way it was handled. So, let’s do a recap on how everything went, shall we?

Betrayed and used by the Archivists. His siblings. Family. The ones who are suppose to love, teach and protect you. Thrown away into an unknown planet, full of the only creatures that could overcome their magic.

Said family destroyed what were likely the Collector’s first, genuine friends.

Locked away by one of the very same species he had befriended for what his siblings did, for who knows how many years, being alone and forgotten for something they didn’t do.

Finally found by a human, whom the kid really thought was his friend, even trying to amuse his homicidal delusions.

Helped fulfill the man’s objective, but instead of being released as promised, is discarded like garbage along a mountain of corpses.

Get his freedom back after almost giving up, considering King a friend despite initially suspecting even him. A time to rejoice and play, unaware of the damage and trauma being done and becoming dangerously protective of his new friend.

Luz, someone King has talked about a lot and is even jealous of, comes back, apparently to destroy him and take King away, and yet, the Collector never means any genuine harm and is so desperate for companionship that wants to befriend even her. Looks so happy at the possibility of the trio befriending him that is completely unaware he’s being manipulated again.

Gets hurt in all the games being summoned, completely unaware that his new playmates are simply surviving. 

Having lived with a madman that destroyed the Grimwalkers he created for hundreds of years only to recreate them again? No wonder he thought even mortal life was as easy to fix as any broken toy, which he demonstrates so casually.

Instead of retaliating, the kid chooses to sulk in a corner, so tired of being used and hurt that it didn’t take long for Luz, the second human he ever met, to get them to open up and explain everything. So disheartened he is about being used and betrayed that tries to force himself to accept the pretending part of everything, even friendship.

Is taught a lesson in friendship, which is taken by heart, to the point the Collector tries it on Belos of all people, someone he helped for +400 years only to cruelly betray him. 

He truly wanted everyone to be friends and learn to forgive, even turning back to Luz to show her how much they learned, even looking like he wants her to be proud of him.

Sees his new friend get killed in front of him and not even his magic can do anything about anything. 

Not only is his new friend gone, but there’s much damage he indirectly caused, like trying to befriend Belos and accidentally gave him the idea to possess the Titan. Not to mention the trauma he caused to all the residents of the isles. 

Suddenly, we see the Collector’s true nature. A scared, overpowered little kid who didn’t know any better because everybody he met used him and never taught him the value of life. He just wanted friends. And now, he can only watch helplessly as his remaining friends go mad with grief and fury, and not even his powers can save them.

Tears for the first time. Despite everything the kid’s been through, it’s Luz’s death that affects him the most. Luz, the human who got them to open up, who was so patient and kind, who didn’t hesitate for a second to save him from Belos’ blast and even assured him they did good, was now gone. All that was left for him is to apologize for everything and beg Eda and King to run away.

Luz is back to save them from certain death, but it wasn’t his magic that brought her back and he must’ve known that. She looked like a Titan and was even using their magic, which he recognized earlier. Plus he also acknowledged Titans were more powerful than anyone, even Collectors. But there was no time to rejoice or process everything immediately. What mattered most is that she was back, even clinging to her subconsciously so he wouldn’t lose her again. 

But Belos was still a threat. Not even the Collector’s powers were enough to stop him anymore. He did the only thing he could do to help; keep the Archives afloat. Despite being weakened and struggling, he actually takes the time to smile at the Hexsquad to demonstrate the friendliness and will to help.

Belos is gone. The Collector is exhausted, but probably still more than capable enough of taking on the Hexsquad with a snap of his fingers. Instead, he chooses to cower, bracing themselves for any potential scold or punishment, preferring that over the risk of hurting anybody else ever again.

Tears for the second time, this time in absolute relief and happiness. The people he innocently tormented so much were offering peace and friendship. 

Despite the hardship and trials, the Collector chooses to return to the stars alone for some growth, a sharp contrast from the kid who didn’t want to be alone. But... this shows how much they learned and matured. Not only can they watch the Boiling Isles better from the sky, but it also gives everyone a chance to get used to him and take the time forgive him for everything. 

And yet... he can visit whenever he wants. He’s free at last. Free to make choices. King considers him a real friend now, and he’s likely in the process of making more... all thanks to Luz, whom he shows gratitude to by not only gifting her a portal door to come and go whenever she pleases, but also giving her a spectacular display of light for her birthday. 

In the end, after everything the Collector has been through... that’s one heck of a character development. Even though Luz was used by the same person, at least she had many friends and parental figures in her life. The Collector didn’t have any of that. His only genuine friends were eliminated and spent possibly eons imprisoned in a dark realm, being used and manipulated for hundreds of years, with nobody there to play with or befriend.

Bonus: Being himself... saved many lives. By turning everybody into puppets not only spared them of the horror that would come later, but by gathering everybody in one single place also saved every citizen on the isles. Just imagine the number of casualties we would've gotten when Titan Belos started blasting everything on sight and raising the corpse's arm while everybody was still scattered.

[pink-pkmn-trainer]

fuck the jax is an npc theory. kinger is an npc in this essay i will-

right off the bat, kinger has a pretty obvious design similarity to caine. i'm not talking about the gloves here, as almost every human character has them (with gangle and ragatha being the exceptions). i'm talking about the eyes. these two have the exact same type of eyes, as you can see in their offical renders. sorry that the images look weird btw i have no idea what happened.

you can also see this similarity pretty clearly in their 2D art

but it doesn't end there, either. caine and kinger both have a tendency to zone out randomly...

there's also existing official art of kinger with his own cane, not unlike the one caine has.

2. during the hallway scene in the pilot, we can see a crossed-out doorplate depicting a black queen chess piece, one that looks very similar to kinger. same robe, same eyes, same general body shape aside from their heads...and considering that all the other characters look so different from one another, it really stands out.

while the easiest explanation would be that they had some sort of connection in the real world (most people believe they're a married couple), how would the game know that? would it just assume that because they logged on at the same time? perhaps queenie and kinger are both NPCs and that's why they look so similar.

(i know that NPCs don't usually have their own rooms, but caine did mention a possibility of getting NPCs and humans mixed up, so let's assume that he ends up granting said NPC a room if he does get confused)

granted, not all NPC/AI characters have to have those big buggy eyeballs. the candy people certainly don't. but there are some certain characters that we can compare this potential trio to...

that's right: the gummy gators. max, chad and gummigoo are all very similar in appearance, and in that sense, they're all part of a group. now you can imagine it's the same case with queenie, kinger, and caine. they all look alike because they're grouped together.

3. as jax says, "ol' kinger over there's supposedly been here the longest". that statement is vague enough that it could very well mean that he's been there since the very beginning, in other words, from the moment the game was created.

here's what i think happened: caine, kinger, and queenie were all AIs programmed to run the circus together, but queenie discovered she was a game character, possibly the same way gummigoo did, and got so existential about it that she abstracted. this is of course assuming that NPCs can abstract, which, knowing how fucked-up this show is, they most likely can.

after queenie's abstraction, kinger got mixed up with the humans and now believes that he is one. because of how forgetful he is, it's not out of the question for him to have forgotten the role he was programmed for and ended up among the human characters. so now caine's been left without any assistance. that may even be why he has bubble, to fill that empty space.

(don't take this too seriously btw i'm just spouting nonsense.)

so what do y'all think of this??

[theographos]

Why Aliens feels off in Tales of Arcadia

Don't get me wrong, I really like Aja, Krel and Varvatos. I even think that 3Below was quite good, even if i'm not a sci-fi fan at all (i even managed to fall asleep in front of every Star Wars ever, and not with any other movie). But good doesn't mean good in terms of storytelling. Because after all 3Below is set in the Tales of Arcadia franchise, and let's just say they don't 100% fit in it.

So why is that ?

1. Trollhunters is based on a book, and the book doesn't contain any aliens.

Well from what I have researched the book doesn't contain any trace of wizards too. I will also add that I haven't read the original book, I just made some researches about its content on the internet.

For those who don't know, Trollhunters : Tales of Arcadia is a loose adaptation of a book written by Guillermo Del Toro and Daniel Kraus, called Trollhunters. It's an adaptation similar to How to Train Your Dragon : The characters are present, the surnatural/fantasy aspect of the book is also present but everything else is changed. I even saw that Steve dies in the book, so glad they didn't take that route.

And i'm not part of the people who screams and cry everytime there is any changes from a book to a movie, To be deeply honest with you all I studied Cinema and English litterature in highschool and my final projet for those two subjects was to talk about how some changes in book adaptations are a good idea.

But it just shows that writer did not have any basic material for it. They had to create it all from scraps, and I feel like the first season of Trollhunters was already out when they thought of aliens, so they decided to connect it howerver they could. Which leads us to our second point.

2. Aliens don't really have any deep connections with humans, trolls or wizards.

Wizards and trolls fought against Gumm gumms, wizards have created many magical relics that Trolls uses, and as we saw with Hisirdoux wizards have an habit of dealing with trolls species. The interactions are already present, they have a deep history between them, shares problems and common knowledge.

Aliens apparently shook hands long time ago on Earth and were gone for the rest of the time, so except an old memory forgotten by almost everyone, they don't really have a pre existing history tying them to the different races in the story.

Trolls and wizards are based on things we already know off. I mean we have countless myths and legends about them already, but there is a bit more to that.

Horseshoe are items to uncover if someone is a changeling, trolls love to eat socks, which ties into the forever myth of "why am I always missing a sock", you think that racoons made your trashcan fall but it could have been gobelins, is that a black cat or just a small dragon etc. You really have the aspect that you interact with the "underworld" on a day to day basis without being actually aware of, and that goes deeper than just "oh this random person is just a troll in disguise".

Aliens don't really have that, like no one except the army used alien technology before 3Below, and still it was in secret so we can't really copy that to our everyday life as easily as the previous examples that I made.

Earth is about Trolls, humans, demi-gods and wizards. And it also happened to have aliens once in a while, but nothing much about it. And that leads us to our last point.

3. The plot has no space for Aliens.

Since the whole story is about earth and the fate of earth, we don't really have space for Aliens in the plot (no puns intended). We can literally see that with the 3Below plot : gumm gumms are something completly unrelated to the plot, it just happens in the back while the main plot is happening. 3Below is more of a spin-off or a "What If?" kind of show than a continuation of the main plot.

3Below is an interlude, an easter egg for the fans. You barely see the main cast, the main cast barely acknowledge the presence of the trio in their own show.

See I wouldn't be criticizing it if it was considered as such in the franchise. A side-story that doesn't impact the plot, but for fan service it will appear in the final movie so that everyone has their conclusion.

But it's not the case, it is seen as an important part of the story by the studio. It has never been advertised as something else than an active part of Tales of Arcadia.

If they truly wanted something about aliens, it should have been as a side story, a spin off.

But as a major part of the franchise, it doesn't deserve its spot and you can feel it.

[stealingyourbones]

So APPARENTLY tucker is the reincarnation of a pharaoh and that's like um, like a really big um.

So now it's got my brain thinking and it's like.

Pharaoh Tucker

My brain is like scrambling right now but HERE WE GO-

Tucker (along with sam) is known as one of ghost zone's alive occupants.

With the Scarab Scepter in hand, he's also recognized as someone of power, not counting his alliance with Danny phantom, so most ghosts won't mess with him.

Now uh. what was I talking about again...um.

AH YES so UH.

So, one way or another Sam and Tucker get roped into Danny's time travelling missions or whatever.

I Dunno where the fuck I'm heading with this but oh well.

So, Tucker deals with time stuff in Egypt.

Sam deals with time stuff involving nature and the like.

And Danny just uh, does the rest I guess.

So, here's the kicker.

All of Tucker and Sam's missions are in the dc universe.

So, Tucker is regarded as this immortal Pharaoh that appears at -seemingly- random places in time to solve great catastrophes or something.

Sam as this immortal plant queen lady that also appears at -seemingly- random places in time to stop people from fucking around with forests and magic that could end disastrously for the future timeline or, to beat back malevolent being that use magic to destroy the plant and everything on it.

(Man, you can just tell that I don't know what I'm doing)

So, throughout the ancient annals of history they are regarded as hero's or just beings that only appear through times of great catastrophe.

So, this continues until the modern age of the Dc universe and are forgotten. Since y'know the whole Justice League being established so Clockwork is just like: 'Yea they can take care of it'

So somewhere way or another, Danny, Sam and Tucker is just dropped into the Dc universe with basically no way to get back.

Danny is wearing full ghost king garments (If this is Ghost king Danny or whatever), Tucker is in full Pharaoh wear and Sam is uh, wearing a dress and a crown made of plants (Couldn't think of anything for her to wear ok-)

(Again, if this is Ghost King Danny)

Danny's royal wear transfers over to his human form so he's just stuck wearing that until they can get clothes.

Tucker is in Pharaoh wear since that's the only thing he actually wore in the dc universe and the same goes for Sam as well.

So, one way or another, they meet the Justice League and (Because I love when it's him) Constantine is just like, freaking out.

Since basically what is seen as gods in ancient history is literally standing right there in front of him along with another person who looks pretty important, y'know with the whole royal garments and all.

(So uh, I dunno where exactly I was going with this and I really dunno what else to add ummmmmmmmm.)

Ok so, in what was their limited interaction between phantom trio and the Justice League.

Those in the know about who Tucker and Sam 'are'. Their brains are going a mile a minute trying to see what kind of world ending event that requires the attention of both of them at the Sam time and how they can do to prevent it.

While also trying to figure out who the 3rd person who appeared with them is. They noticed that he seemed to be the 'leader' of the trio and if that's the case.

What kind of thing would require his attention as well?

(I literally Dunno if this is good or not but here, have it. My brain heard that Tucker was the reincarnation of a Pharaoh and went brrrrr. Sam was there because I looked at the wiki and saw she briefly got plants powers so I just, yea she can learn magic. The time stuff was just someway my brain came up with trying to get it to connect to the Dc universe.)

(Also, Sam and Tucker aren't aware of anything going on the DC universe after they went back to their one. So, they thought what they did didn't really affect anything like Danny since they didn't appear in history. Clockwork never told them that they went to a different dimension for whatever reason I guess.)

Radiance you have outdone yourself this is incredible.

Maybe Sam has a poison ivy esque outfit on but much more modest and with more darker purple and black tones.

The phantom trio meeting the big three and informing them that they're simply trapped and a world ending attack isn't impending (at this immediate moment. In thus universe its really always a matter of time.)

1, 2, 3

[brucesterling]

Facebook AI spam as an analyzed by Microsoft Bing Copilot, May 2024:

Analysing the image: Faces may be blurred to protect privacy.

The image depicts three figures seated around a birthday cake with lit candles. The central figure is wearing a party hat with the American flag design, and there is an American flag hanging in the background. The setting appears to be a dimly lit room with some items scattered around, such as a helmet on the floor and what looks like military gear. The faces of the figures are obscured by pixelation.

This image may be interpreted as having themes related to military service, given the presence of military gear and the American flag, which could suggest patriotism or a commentary on soldiers’ experiences. However, without more context, it’s not possible to determine the exact meaning or intent behind this image. Is there anything else I can assist you with?

*Tell me a fictional backstory for this image.

Certainly! Let’s weave a fictional tale around this intriguing image:

Title: “The Forgotten Celebration”

In the small, dimly lit room, three figures huddled together. Their faces obscured by pixelation, they sat around a makeshift birthday cake adorned with flickering candles. The central figure, wearing a party hat fashioned from an old American flag, stared at the cake with a mix of longing and melancholy.

Captain Benjamin “Ace” Reynolds, the man in the party hat, had seen better days. Once a decorated fighter pilot, he’d flown countless missions during the war. But now, he was grounded—his body scarred, his spirit broken. The helmet on the floor beside him bore the marks of battle, its dents and scratches telling stories of dogfights and near misses.

Beside Ace sat Lena, the nurse who’d tended to his wounds. Her eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own. She’d seen too much suffering, too many lives lost. The cake before them was a feeble attempt at normalcy—a reminder that even in the chaos of war, birthdays came and went. Lena had baked it herself, scavenging ingredients from ration packs and trading favors with the mess hall cook.

And then there was Private Jackson, the youngest of the trio. Fresh-faced and eager, he’d joined the ranks just months ago. His uniform hung loosely on his frame, and the candlelight danced across his hopeful eyes. Jackson had never been in combat, but he’d heard the stories—the camaraderie, the adrenaline, the fear. He wondered if he’d ever get his chance to prove himself.

The American flag in the background fluttered gently, its stars and stripes a reminder of the ideals they fought for. But in that room, patriotism felt distant, almost irrelevant. Survival was the order of the day, and birthdays were a luxury they couldn’t afford.

As the candles flickered, casting shadows on the cracked walls, Ace raised his glass—a chipped mug filled with water—and proposed a toast. “To life,” he said, his voice gravelly. “To surviving another year.”

Lena smiled, her fingers tracing the rim of her own mug. “And to hope,” she added. “May it find us even in the darkest of times.”

Jackson clinked his mug against theirs. “And to the skies,” he said. “Wherever they may lead.”

And so, in that forgotten corner of the war-torn world, they celebrated. The cake tasted like cardboard, but the warmth of their shared company made it bearable. For a brief moment, they were more than soldiers—they were human beings, clinging to fragments of normalcy in a world gone mad.

As the last candle sputtered out, Ace closed his eyes. He imagined the roar of engines, the rush of wind, and the thrill of flight. Maybe someday, he’d take to the skies again. But for now, he’d hold onto this memory—the three of them, united by cake, candlelight, and the promise of tomorrow.

And that, my friend, is the fictional backstory behind this enigmatic image. If you’d like more tales or have any other requests, feel free to ask!

[yallemagne]

I want to write a Lucy-Jonathan parallels post but have no gothlit followers, hope someone makes one hint hint

jipoawgrji ARE YOU COMMISSIONING ME TO MAKE A POST??

Also, never be scared to make a post that's sort of out of your usual wheelhouse. But I'm guessing you're simply baiting me but by god, I love talking about my girlies, so I'm taking the bait.

So, Lucy and Jonathan :))). This is fun because I don't really see people comparing them by themselves, always throwing Mina in and/or excluding Jonathan for being male.

Spoilers for like the entire beginning of the book.

Let's go over differences first, right?

So, Jonathan is poor and an orphan with a father figure who gave everything to him in death. Lucy is upper class and has her mother who (if Lucy ever changed her mind) effectively wrote Lucy out of her will. Jonathan is sent away for work alone. Lucy is on vacation with her mother and best friend. Jonathan and Mina have been together since before the start of the book. Lucy and Arthur seem to, at most, only been going steady before Arthur proposes during the events of the book. Jonathan is completely alone in a castle bereft of human life yet still lives, but Lucy is surrounded by life and still dies. There are probably more, but I would be here all day.

And then the similarities.

They had such bright futures ahead of them. Jonathan finally had a career that would allow him to marry Mina, and Lucy had found a man who could not only provide for her but who she loved and who loved her back with all his heart. But they were both in the wrong places at the wrong time. Factors outside of their control led to their victimization, and they were powerless to take action to prevent their abuse or call attention to it for fear of repercussions.

They are both victimized because they went somewhere that was meant to be welcoming (for Jonathan, the Weird Sisters' room and for Lucy, the churchyard). They are both assaulted in their sleep and an outside force is there to interfere. Jonathan could write about the women, but not what happened with the Count afterwards (whether nothing actually happened or he had forgotten/blocked it out, we can't be certain). Lucy could speak about her "strange dream" but only in the context of it being a dream, and only to Mina. Both of them can only truly confide in Mina, and even then, they keep pertinent information to themselves so as to not burden her and so they can continue living in denial, because facing the abuse head-on is terrifying, especially since their reputations could be destroyed if anyone ever even suspected. But when Jonathan's trauma is validated by Van Helsing, he gets better. Meanwhile, Van Helsing suspects the cause of Lucy's trauma but chooses to keep quiet, and she dies.

Jonathan's only protector for two months was his abuser. He had to comply with his wishes or else be thrown to the wolves. And even then, when the Count was done with him, he decided to throw him to the wolves anyway, and it was only by Jonathan's tenacity that he wasn't killed and turned. Jonathan leaves the castle having left a permanent scar on the Count's forehead. Then, his protectors are the nuns and then Mina herself. Lucy's protector was Mina until she was called away to save Jonathan. Then Lucy's protectors are Dr. Seward and Dr. Van Helsing. One is completely ignorant of vampires but willing to call for help, and one knows of them but is unwilling to share life-saving information (yes, I am still mad). Lucy leaves this world having written a diary entry confirming the Professor's suspicions.

They both do what they can for themselves and for others, but they are both placed at a disadvantage. They both love and are loved by Mina. They both have a trio vying for their attention, but while Lucy's suitors respect her choice, and she happily chooses to marry Arthur, the Weird Sisters see Jonathan as nothing but a meal, and they pick who gets to have him first. There's also the fuckign wolves. The Count uses wolves to torment them both, killing the grieving mother and Lucy's mother right in front of them, breaking them down further.

These babies got me fucked up. They're both conditioned to be submissive, Jonathan being poor and forced to depend on the goodwill of richer people like his boss and his client, and Lucy being of a higher class but being a woman and having no property of her own, forced to depend on men and even her friend who is a career woman. And, this is personal headcanon, but I headcanon them both to be the youngest in the cast, Lucy at 19 and Jonathan at 21 (EDIT: lol, Lucy being 19 is literally just book canon).

I could say so much about them. Honestly, next time, say something specific to target, because there's just so much you could compare between the two.

LIKE JONATHAN COMPARES HIMSELF TO HAMLET AND LUCY COMPARES HERSELF TO OPHELIA. THEY LITERALLY?? THEY HAVE THE SAME FAVOURITE PLAY??!!

[thisbelongsto-nohbodys]

Who, according to you, are the most relevant 'minor characters' of Amphibia that had a HUGE potential for sublot and character development, but never got as much as they should have deserved? Excluding the Calamity Trio, of course.

There's a number of them so I'll divide them up:

Frogs:

Maddie had a lot of potential, both before and after Marcy. Her being engaged to Sprig was interesting and we could've seen them hang out a few times and even after the engagement was broken off Maddie said she "can't wait to hang out again" and we never did. Then when it came to her and Marcy it'd've been cool to see her and Marcy exchange alchemy notes and strengthen their magic, which considering the dark arts isn't a 100% hated thing unlike on Earth, imagine if we'd've gotten an ep of another witch testing Maddie's skills.

Ivy being Sprig's girlfriend, ya'd think that she'd have more screentime but nope. It would've been cool to learn more about her and Felicia (and if the fan theory of Wally being Ivy's dad was true or not). If we got another Sasha ep in S3A it would've been cool to see her and Ivy bonding (adding more to the Sashanne parallels).

Toads:

Beatrix is Grime's big sister and it would've been great to learn more about her and by association Grime. She was also a Captain of a Toad Tower, so how different was her and Grime's leadership styles. Not to mention if she was also a gladiator along with Grime. Then when the war happened, what she was up to along with the other Toad Captains.

Newts:

Lady Olivia would have been great to learn about. Be it more about her mom and the duty Olivia put on herself to honor her mom, her childhood living in the castle (and meeting the Moss Men), her doing any diplomatic missions, etc etc.

General Yunan would've been fun to see more of. I did a post recently that talks a bit about that tho'

Humans:

Terri and Dr. Jan was such a chaotic duo on the FBI raid mission that it would've been great to see more of them (and a blossoming romance). Them working together to explore artifacts for Amphibian clues and figuring out how to make the portal.

Mr and Mrs Waybright/Wu even if for a single episode it would've been nice to know how the disappearance of their daughters effected them. To understand a bit more in why Sasha and Marcy are the way they are/were. Marcy likely having a academically strict household, Sasha likely being mostly forgotten between her parent's new lives with their partners and Sasha's step-siblings/half-siblings. Would Anne see them? Would they resent the Boonchuys for having Anne back but not their own daughter? Would the ep just be them on their own? What's their first name (so we can stop typing Mr/Mrs Waybright/Wu all the time)?

[101flavoursofweird]

Emerald Trio Week: Day 2 - Inspiration

Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Watching and Dreaming regarding Hunter’s new…talent.

Set: After Watching and Dreaming. Hunter is attending Hexside with the others.

Warnings: A reference to the Titanic movie is made… Gus doubts his artistic skills… Contains more Huntlow and Gustholomule— glad I can tag them now!

Note: Again, thanks to @loosescrewslefty for the prompts.

Resting on his stomach above his bedroom rug, Gus squinted at the sketchpad in front him. He gnawed on the end of his pencil like a hungry echo mouse.

Legend had it that human pencils used to contain lead , which was poisonous for humans—

Stop getting distracted!

Gus shook his head and returned to the issue at hand: Matt’s birthday— tomorrow.

Gus could have (should have) gone out and purchased Matt a gift, but, never one to pass up a challenge, Gus had decided to create something instead.

Illusions were too easy. Matt had received plenty of illusions from Gus, and by this point, Matt was proficient at casting his own illusions.

Matt would be expecting something better from Gus. Something Gus had worked hard on. A challenge!

So, Gus had decided to take a page of out of Matt’s book. Gus was going to draw him a picture…

It sounded childish when Gus put it like that. No— he was going to produce a portrait. Paint the canvas. Compose an artistic masterpiece!

…As soon as he could figure out what to draw.

Think, Augustus, think…

No thoughts manifested. His brain was completely empty.

“Uuuuuugh!” Gus groaned and dropped his pencil. “Guys, what should I draw for Matt?”

So engrossed was he in his art that he’d almost forgotten Willow and Hunter were there with him.

They had come over an hour ago to start work on a project for History class, which only Hunter was still invested in now.

“Not sure…” Hunter replied without looking up from his books on Gus’s desk.

Willow made an ‘ I dunno’ noise from Gus’s bed, where she was watching a professional flyer derby match on her scroll.

“Thanks, you two!” Gus said flatly. “Such helpful, reliable friends I have—“ Willow tossed a pillow in his direction.

Gus gasped and moved his sketchpad aside. “Willow! You’re gonna wreck my canvas!” He chucked the pillow right back at her.

“Ha!” Willow caught the pillow. She placed the pillow at the end of his bed and planted her elbows on it.

“You can draw me!” she suggested with a smirk. She held her chin in her hand. “Draw me like one of your French girls!”

That made Hunter’s head turn. Willow pursed her lips at him.

“Ew! No!” Gus protested, poking his tongue out. (Why had he insisted on watching Titanic with them in the Human Realm? He’d thought it was a documentary…! ) “You two can just leave if you’re going to be all lovey-dovey!”

“Very well…” Willow sniffed loudly. She rolled to the left side of the bed and slowly slipped off. “But I promise I will… never… let go—“

Hunter snorted. When Willow’s hand sank weakly out of view, Gus wheezed with laughter too. Hunter joined him, clutching his sides as he rocked back in Gus’s chair. Willow popped up from behind the bed, chortling.

“This really… isn’t funny!” Gus gasped, after a minute. “The Titanic sinking was a real disaster in human history—“

“Kind of like our History project?” Hunter hummed.

“—and so is this!” Gus thrust a hand at his blank sketchbook. “How am I going to impress Matt? How?!”

“Why don’t you draw a beach?” Willow supplied, actually being helpful this time.

“Not a beach in the Boiling Isles… ” Hunter mumbled. Gus glanced at him. Hunter glanced away, rubbing his lip.

Willow said, “Maybe a beach from the Human Realm would be better?”

“Yeah…” Gus agreed. “ Yeah—  that could work!”

One sunny day during their stay in the Human Realm, Camila had driven them all to a beach, where the sand was soft and the sea didn’t boil. They could actually swim in the water, without fear of burning…

Witches still had to wear sunblock. (Amity, especially…) But it was definitely worth it for that beautiful sunset.

Gus pictured it in his mind— the sand, the sea, the sunset— and he projected it as an illusion the size of a crystal ball.

“It was great,” Hunter said, smiling at the memory.

“Who needs photos,” Willow quipped, “when we’ve got Gus’ power?”

Gus grinned, grabbed his pencil and his sketchpad, and started to draw the scene. It was much easier when he had the memory in front of him.

The beach had been bustling and bright with colour: The sapphire waves, the golden sand, the pink and purple sky…

Gus had the outlines of the beach, but it was bland and grey with pencil.

Gus frowned. Should he try shading? He gently rubbed a pencil mark with his fingertip and winced at the mess he made. “I need colours— right now!”

“Paints or crayons?” Willow asked, shooting to her feet

Paints would be too messy… “Crayons!”

“You’re a witch,” Hunter reminded Gus. “Why don’t you just—? ”

“‘’S’cuse me!” Willow shoved past Hunter to reach the desk. She pulled a pack of colouring crayons out of a blue pencil pot, and passed them to Gus. “Here you go!”

“Thanks…”

Gus coloured in the lines he’d drawn, but when he was finished, it still looked… wrong. The crayons were too waxy, too artificial, and they didn’t blend together.

A baby could have done better than this!

“I’ve ruined it!” Gus moaned. His illusion-bubble popped. He threw his sketchbook away and flopped facedown on the rug.

“No, you haven’t!” Willow went to pick up his sketchbook

Still on the rug, Gus turned his head to Willow as she crouched beside him. She held the picture up to him, hoping he would see it in a different light.

“See? It’s fine, way better than my doodles—“

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Gus huffed.

Hunter said, “Why not?”

Rubbing his wrist, Gus sat up. “Because… Matt’s a really, really good artist. I just wanted to draw him something— something I put a lot of effort into…!”

“You did put a lot of effort in, Gus,” Willow assured him. “Of course Matt will see that, but if anyone doesn’t, who cares?”

“You can’t please everyone,” Hunter muttered, sympathetically. Willow offered him a reassuring smile.

Gus looked between the two of them. He took the sketchbook back from Willow, staring at his picture .

“But,” Hunter added, with surprising optimism, “do you know what would jazz it up even more…?” He stood up and pulled a small carving knife out of his apron pocket.

“A… palisman?” Gus guessed. “But Matt already has…”

Gus trailed off as Willow made a rectangle with her thumbs and index fingers. Closing one eye, Willow moved the rectangle over to Gus, as if she was snapping a photo of him.

“Oh!” Gus gasped.

-

Matt ripped the wrapping paper off the box. “You got me… a hunk of wood?”

“No !” Gus sighed. Carefully, Gus removed the hand-carved panel of wood and flipped it over, revealing his picture inside the frame.

Matt’s eyes widened. “Wait— you made this?”

Gus wasn’t sure if Matt was referring to the picture of the beach or the frame or both, but he nodded shyly.

Matt snatched the gift off him. For a horrible second, Gus thought Matt was going to throw the framed picture away, but then, Matt held it up for all of his party guests to see.

“Everyone— look at this! Look at THIS! The first of many masterpieces from Augustus Porter! And it’s all MINE…!”

Gus blushed and beamed at Matt’s adulation.

He glanced back at Willow and Hunter, who were both watching behind him. Willow gave him a thumbs-up. Though Hunter looked a little tired, he was smiling.

Gus mouthed, “Thank you—“ but he was cut off as Matt caught him in a one-armed hug.

-

Hunter smiled at Gus and Mattholomule.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night— between woodcarving and their history project— but it was worth it to see Gus and his friend/rival/crush(?) so happy together.

Rubbing his eyes, Hunter wondered how much longer he would have to stay at the party…

Mattholomule wouldn’t mind if Hunter left, would he? He and Hunter weren’t really close (Hunter was more familiar with Matt’s brother, Steve), and Hunter didn’t have a present with him…

An arm wrapped around Hunter’s shoulder. Willow pulled him down so her mouth was level with his burning ear.

“You can take credit for the frame,” she whispered. “Gus won’t mind…”

“Nah…” Hunter chuckled. “I’ll let him have this one—“

“That’s sweet of you…” Willow hummed hopefully. “Could you make me a photo frame— when it’s my birthday?”

“S-sure…”

To make sure it was absolutely perfect he’d have to start preparations immediately— finding the right wood, marking the measurements…

Willow pecked him on the cheek, interrupting Hunter’s plans.

“Thanks, Hunter.”

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Klutz (+ Bonus Story)

Long before they were the towering titans of Spartan lore, before the augmentation, the armor, and the endless battles, they were kids. Kids with the weight of the world, or at least the fate of humanity, unknowingly resting on their tiny, yet unnaturally strong shoulders. In this prelude to their legendary status, Fred and Kelly, both eight and brimming with the sort of energy that could either power a small city or lead to its accidental destruction, found themselves embroiled in a spat so intense, it could only be described as epic—for an eight-year-old, at least.

The bone of contention? A gadget. Not just any gadget, mind you, but the sort that had buttons, lights, and made beep-boop sounds. It was the sort of tech that in the hands of skilled Spartan children could simulate battles or, in the wrong hands (namely any of their own on a bad day), end up as a very expensive paperweight.

Fred, with the sort of conviction only seen in children arguing over toys, stated, "You always do this, Kelly. I was clearly here first. Like, dawn-first. You were probably still drooling on your pillow."

Kelly, hands akimbo and eyes ablaze with the fire of a thousand suns—or perhaps just the fiery temper of an eight-year-old denied her toy—shot back, "In your dreams, Fred. You wish you were as dedicated to waking up early as I am. That gadget was mine for the taking. Finders keepers, losers weepers."

John, the youngest and usually the quietest of the trio, wandered in, curious about the commotion, only to find himself in the midst of what could very well have been the opening salvo of World War III, if it were to be fought by particularly articulate eight-year-olds over a training gadget.

The argument escalated, words flying faster than a Spartan in full sprint, until Fred, in a moment of passion (or perhaps just to prove a point), reached out to snatch the device. His fingers barely grazed it before it took a leap of faith, liberated from the confines of petty human squabbles, only to meet its untimely demise against the unyielding ground. The gadget, in a final act of defiance, scattered into a million pieces, each beep and boop falling silent.

Silence reigned, both children staring at the debris field that was once a cutting-edge piece of UNSC technology.

"Fred! You klutz!" Kelly exclaimed, half in horror, half in a begrudging respect for the chaos Fred had managed to unleash.Before the blame game could spiral further, the towering figure of Mendez loomed into the doorway, his shadow casting a pall over the room that could chill the bones of even the most seasoned soldier.

John, caught in the middle and still processing the rapid turn of events, found Mendez's steely gaze upon him. "Well, John? What happened here?" Mendez's voice was calm, the calm before the storm.

John, with the innocence of youth and the uncertainty of being put on the spot, stammered, "Uh, I think Kelly was... uh, doing something, and then... bam?"

Kelly's jaw dropped. "What? No! He's making it up! I didn't do it this time!" she protested, her voice hitting octaves only dogs could appreciate.In a desperate bid to avoid the wrath of Mendez (which could range from extra laps to a stern talking-to that could make a grown man cry), both Fred and Kelly, in a moment of panicked solidarity, pointed their fingers at John.

"It was definitely John," Fred chimed in, throwing his friend under the proverbial bus with a sheepish look that screamed 'Sorry, buddy.'

Mendez's eyebrows arched, a silent verdict passed. John, the sacrificial lamb, followed Mendez out, his small form a mixture of confusion and the dawning realization of betrayal.

Left alone, Fred and Kelly glanced at each other, the remnants of their argument lying forgotten among the pieces of the now-defunct gadget.

"Guess we kinda messed up, huh?" Fred muttered, scratching the back of his head in a universal sign of 'oops.'

"Yeah," Kelly sighed, her earlier fire replaced with a flicker of guilt. "Sorry for calling you a klutz."

"And sorry for, you know, actually being a klutz," Fred replied, a grin creeping onto his face.

As they started picking up the pieces, literally, the incident morphed from a potential friendship-ending disaster to just another tale in the saga of their Spartan training. The lesson? In the grand scheme of things, gadgets come and go, but friends—especially those who can forgive your penchant for accidentally destroying said gadgets—are forever.

---

John trudged behind Mendez, his feet feeling like they were made of lead, into what felt less like an office and more like the coliseum—only here, the lions were replaced with officers bearing the full might of UNSC disappointment. The air was heavy, charged with a sort of electric anticipation, as if the very walls were bracing for the verbal barrage to come.

Mendez, with the practiced ease of someone who had given more lectures than there were stars in the sky, didn’t bother with the usual pleasantries. He went straight for the jugular. “John,” he began, the name not so much spoken as it was launched like a missile, “we’ve gathered here not to talk about what was broken—though, by the stars, it was expensive—but about the breaking itself. The sheer, unadulterated recklessness.”

John’s eyes, fixed on his scuffed boots, couldn’t have looked guiltier if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except this jar was worth more credits than he could count, and the cookies were top-secret UNSC tech.

An officer, whose name tag read something unimportant because all John could think was ‘this is it, I’m done for,’ piped up. “Let’s cut to the chase. We're not running a charity here, son. That equipment you 'supposedly' destroyed? It's worth more than your weight in platinum.”

John’s mouth opened, a feeble attempt at defense forming, but what came out was barely audible. “But I—”“But nothing,” Mendez cut in, his voice a crescendo of frustration. “This isn’t about who did what anymore. It’s about you being here, right now, and the fact that a piece of invaluable equipment was turned into a very expensive doorstop on your watch.”

The officers took turns then, as if this were some twisted tag team match, each one delivering their own brand of scathing critique. Words like “disappointment,” “liability,” and “failure” were thrown around with such casual precision, John felt each one like a physical blow.

The tears came then, unbidden, streaking down his face in silent testament to the crushing weight of their words. This wasn’t how heroes were made; this was how dreams were crushed, beneath the heel of authority and the harsh light of reality.

Mendez, perhaps sensing he had a broken spirit rather than a Spartan on his hands, softened slightly. “Look, John. This isn’t the end of the line. But it’s a damn serious bump. Spartans are built on trust, on the understanding that every gear in the machine works flawlessly. Today, you were a cog that jammed. Don’t let there be a next time.”

With a dismissive wave, Mendez signaled the end of the tribunal, and the officers filed out, leaving John in the echoing silence of the office, the aftermath of a storm. The door closed with a soft click, a definitive full stop on the day’s events.

John made his way back to his quarters, each step heavy with the sort of weariness that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with the soul-crushing realization that sometimes, your best isn’t good enough. The corridor stretched before him, a path back to a place that felt less like home and more like a cell.Inside his room, the reality of his situation settled in with oppressive finality.

To him, there was no grand lesson learned, no silver lining—just the bitter taste of failure and the understanding that in the grand scheme of things, he was expendable. A tool that, when broken, could easily be replaced.

As he lay in his bunk, staring up at the cold, unfeeling ceiling, John realized that the path to becoming a Spartan was littered with more than just physical trials. It was a journey that demanded everything, and sometimes, that meant facing the fact that not all were destined to reach the end.

The lights dimmed, mirroring the dimming of his spirit, as John closed his eyes, not to dream of victories and glory, but to escape the harsh reality that today, he had been found wanting. In the silence of his quarters, a young boy’s aspirations seemed to fade into the darkness, a sad, stark reminder that... well, not all stories have happy endings.

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @authortobenamedlater, @ageless-aislynn.

[melishade]

Number 38?

This ask game

Peaceful Timeline, 2000 years later

Optimus was quietly browsing through the computers on the ship to try and hack into the satellites on this world, but he wasn't an expert on technology. And neither was Megatron. But this was something that needed to be done. Decepticons were still active over 2,000 years after the war ended, and they had gone after humans. No doubt to get to him. That had to be the only reason. But was the Decepticon working for someone else? If so, who was he working for. This situation had lead to...another problem.

Optimus' audio receptors picked up on some chatter and glanced behind him to see the humans he had saved poorly hiding and whispering to one another on how to approach him. Humans. It's...it's been so long since he's been in the presence of a human for an extended period of time. Not like when he protected Ironspark's descendants. Those moments were brief. Instant. But to have humans in their home...it was surreal.

Megatron wanted nothing to do with them. He didn't want to get attached to the humans again. He knew why: it hurt Megatron too much. He practically spat in Optimus' face, telling him to 'take care of those new pets yourself'. Optimus knows that Megatron had a right to be angry. They had a rule: do not let the humans get involved in their lives. It happened. He didn't mean to. He just didn't want to see them get hurt. But now...did he put them in more danger? He just wanted-!

Optimus heard something clang in the hallway and could no longer ignore the humans. He minimized his work on the screens and walked over to where the humans were. He peered his head and looked down at the trio to see them panicking over knocking over a piece of metal. They must have thought it was something important.

"Is everyone alright?" Optimus asked them, causing them to look up at him with worry.

"W-we didn't mean to touch it!" the blonde boy, Armin, raised his hands in surrender, "Honest!"

"Thankfully what you hit was not important," Optimus informed, "But if you are going to be here for your protection, you must be careful with what you touch. You are more than welcome to ask me for information, but if you have nothing to do, then I suggest you work on your studies and extra curriculars. You are high schoolers and no doubt have to worry yourself with college."

"Well!" the brunette, Eren, spoke, "It's a little hard to do that when this is the coolest thing that has happened in our lives!"

"I understand, but I do need to focus," Optimus informed them, "I am uncertain of the location of the assailant who came after you, and I would prefer to locate them as soon as possible."

The woman, Mikasa, gasped. "Maybe we can look on the conspiracy website!"

"Yeah!" Armin agreed with excitement, "Someone must've taken a picture of it and thought it was like Optimus!"

"Conspiracy website?" Optimus questioned, regaining the attention of the trio.

"Y-yeah," Mikasa answered, "You're on the conspiracy website. So is Megatron."

Optimus showed visible astonishment at the proclamation. "Is that how you knew to search for me?"

"Yeah, you and Megatron have a reputation for being one of the oldest mysteries of our planet!" Armin exclaimed.

"Honestly, I thought it was all bullshit until I saw you," Eren confessed.

Optimus looked to be deep in thought.

"What's wrong?" Eren asked.

"Nothing, I just...did not expect our presence here on this world to have that much of an impact," Optimus explained, "I suppose I cannot erase the evidence."

"NO!" Armin screamed.

"DON'T DO THAT!" Mikasa hollered.

"Alright, I will not!" Optimus had to cover his audio receptors in response. He had forgotten how loud humans can be. But...he was curious as to what the humans thought. "Could you...show me this information you have acquired?"

The shock that morphed into unhinged gleam on both Armin and Mikasa made him feel uneasy.

"You shouldn't have done that," Eren proclaimed.

===

Megatron arrived later that night after scouring for energon and visiting Firelight's resting place. He honestly was just angry at Optimus and just didn't want to be around him. Now those fragile, puny humans were in their home! They only had one job! One responsibility! Keep tabs on Ironspark's descendants before sending Optimus back to Cybertron! Why did Optimus have such an attachment to these frail creatures?! It frustrated him! Why would Optimus be willing to risk going through that same emotional turmoil again?! It was just going to destroy him!

Megatron stopped himself before stepping inside the ship. Their home. He just didn't want Optimus to get hurt. Why would Optimus be willing to risk that pain again? Megatron growled in frustration as he stepped inside. He needed energon. Those pesky humans were no doubt gone. Megatron passed Optimus' work station, but paused in his step when he noticed something...odd. He could've sworn he saw a photo of Optimus on the screen. Megatron backpedaled to find Optimus staring at the screen containing both his and Optimus' alt modes. The Prime then selected a video, and was about to play it, but stopped when he noticed Megatron out of the corner of his optic.

"Welcome home," Optimus greeted.

"Optimus, what are you doing?" Megatron demanded as he stepped into the room, "I thought you were looking for the Decepticon that attacked you."

"I was," Optimus explained as he pressed play on the video, "But the humans have alerted us to the impact we might have had on this world."

Before Megatron could question him further, the video played, and he saw the logo of a show called 'Buzzfeed Unsolved'.

"This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we discuss what might be the oldest legend in the world."

"I still think some of the photos are photoshopped,"

"It was talked about for years!"

"Ryan, it doesn't even have a cool name! This is one of the better theories we're going to talk about and all they can come up with is the 'Futuristic Car' or the 'Ghost Car'?!"

"Oh my god, Shane,"

"Just call it an alien! It's an alien! That makes more sense!"

Megatron was confused at the sight of the two men laughing at each other before turning to Optimus with a questioning look.

"I believe we might be famous on this world," Optimus explained, "Do you wish to watch?"

"Watch what mere humans have to possibly speculate about our existence?" Megatron cocked at eyebrow, "...I'll get energon for the both of us. I'm curious."

(They proceed to make comments about the theories and Megatron laughs at being called a supernatural spirit. Anyway, 17 might take a while. I have something planned for that, and I've been asked 41, but the rest are free game. And be sure to vote in the pilot poll.)

[kiwibirdlafayette]

you heard of the kites and nightingales, kestrels and herons... but little do you know, another faction hides in the caves and unseen crevices of the faction isles...

I've been brainrotting about a Krimson Krakens (+ mianite pirates and Tom because I do what I want) cameo in Pirates SMP, so have some worldbuilding and lore ideas! Of course, all for fun, moreso an AU/Headcanon than anything, not meant to be taken seriously at all :] If it turns into anything more, cool beans, but for now! I'm just vibing

(Made in collaboration with @kaye-memer-kurrentvertz who helped with the Dave, Krinios and Krakens dynamic stuffs :D)

Little prologue and ficlet below the cut; Enjoy!

Meet the Krimson Krakens.

Comprised of mystical and mysterious individuals- some of more human in appearance than others- no one is sure when this faction formed. Unlike the others, it holds no precedence over the many generations of pirates in these Isles, nor is their presence heard of other then in whispers between pirates across the land.

Carrying with them an infamous reputation of a crew like a Kraken; in search of breaking curses, solving the mysteries of the Isles. Who would find their target and take it over like tentacles wrapping around a ship reaching into its deepest corners until they've found what they're looking for, no stone left unturned in their wake.

The crew is headed by the elusive Captain Kara Corvus, adorned by many snakes upon her shoulders, and Captain Jordan Sparklez of draconic origins; the latter said to have begun life in the End, given humanity by a deity and brought into the Overworld as a curse. While they bicker a lot sometimes, they are a powerhouse of a duo who know each other very well, being a force to reckoned with especially while wielding their respective weapons- Kara's ruby-adorned Leviathan Blade and Jordan's unbreakable enchanted prismarine trident with a name in Enderian spoken only once ever by the deity that crafted it

But they by no means hold any sort of superiority over the others, for like Nightingales, they value friendship and comradery over power over one another. By their side is the former Kestrel cyclops Krinios- a man with a keen eye for treasure and an ability to loot a ship in the heat of battle which has been considered unmatched, only having been caught a few times. - and Dave Krtzy, a fighter from a bloodline stretching generations in the Kites who broke it to join the Krakens. A master with any melee weapon he can get his hands on, he's usually the first to jump into battle, and if someone's in danger, his waterman abilities come into play.

However, while these four make up the core of the Krakens they are not alone in their adventures, and have picked up other friends along the way

Joining them are the Dulahann siblings, Katherine "Capsize" and Redbeard (his birth name has been all but forgotten by the others) and family friend Rupert, a skeleton reborn from an island of purple goo who gained sentience thanks to Capsize's mother. The Dine-at-Night is their family's tavern-BnB that was expanded into a base of operations after the trio met Jordan, who one day washed up on the beach with little memory of where he came from- and sort of became his family. While not a Captain in this universe, she still takes up a leadership role of her own right in being rather good with a sword, solving mysteries, collecting evidence and giving the realest advice to both friends and passing bar patrons. Red's a little more loose headed but alongside Rupert is a skilled ship engineer, and the guy to go to if the boat's got a leak or a steering system has gone awry. Not much is known about Rupert besides him being known to be a jack of all trades, a powerful asset to have onboard. He has said to have had said he has a claim to fame in his past life before dying on the taint-covered island, but has yet to share it with anyone..

The most recent member to join them is the undead Tom Syndicate, a blue-haired zombie with an explosive personality and fighting style, who had been known to frequent taverns across the Isle. Having once belonged to a rival independent crew of the Krakens, rumor has it that he betrayed them after years of mistreatment, turning instead to choose to join Cpt. Sparklez out of admiration and perhaps a kind of affection that turned romantic over the years (to the point of claiming to be married to the captain, no one knows for sure how true this is). Despite coming from a very different background than the others, including a lost memory of who he was before he had been zombified he fits in quite well, his willingness to jump into battle like a cannonball flying through the air and explode on enemies without second thought brings a certain chaos to the Krakens that they have accepted wholeheartedly.

While their ship is stored away in a sea cliff hidden behind a waterfall somewhere on the island, the tunnel system leading there from beneath the Dine-at-Night, the Krakens enjoy a relaxing life on land, chilling at their tavern base of operations, or being a living legend amongst the other inhabitants, familiar but unfamiliar faces in the crowd. Some have started to believe that their swashbuckling days are few far between in the lack of comings and goings since the new recruits have arrived, but contrary to that they still have been traversing under cover of night to seek out what darkness could be brewing just around the corner. From the growing amount of purple in Rupert's hair to a sudden glow of the rusted coin around Dave's neck the Krakens have had their suspicions for a while....

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

"Oi! Ye heard what happened?"

Jordan jolts awake off the bar when the bottom of a mug hits against his shoulder. He glares at the Scottish accented, freckled face that passes him, an eyebrow raised.

"No... Heard what Kat?" He grovels, and sits up a little straighter, turning to check the time. 1am. He rests his hand under his chin, hoping that propping it up would keep him awake for the time being. "It better be important, I was having a nice dream for once in my life."

Capsize rolls her eyes. "I don't think that's all gonna matter all that much one ye hear about what I heard today."

He eyes her cautiously as sets the mug she was drying down on the bar. There were a number of things that she could be alluding to, from their own personal affairs, to Tom causing trouble at the Heron's base to something as drastic as their ship had been stolen, or worse burnt to the ground. He hoped it wasn't the last one, but even if it was, he and Kara had a contingency plan.

He murmurs. "I mean maybe... what'd you hear?"

She sits down on a stool across from him, folding her hands together. "The Factioning was a few days ago, right?" She waits for him to nod in response, ensuring that she had the dragon's full attention. "Turns out, that's not the only thing that happened that day. Something calls them out to the Isle to the north, spoken through the recruitment officer."

"The fox man? He told them to go?"

"From the looks of it, yeah." She fiddled with her bracelet, the clacking of the beads breaking through the ambient sound of distant ocean waves and the crackle of torchlight. "I mean, I wasn't there so what would I know. for sure, but they listened."

Jordan shrugs. "I mean PK's a trustworthy guy, I'd probably go if he told me to."

"Yeah, well you'd trust Tom if he told you to walk the plank, I'm not surprised." Despite her little quip, Capsize's face becomes more serious solemn in expression and her voice lowers. "I don't think they were meant to because turns out, twenty-four of them went over there, two of them didn't come back. Kestrels and Kites apparently both lost a member of their faction."

"... Like they stayed? Why would anyone wanna hang out at the wasteland, there's nothing there but-"

"Jordan. They died."

A gust of wind howls outside through the barely cracked windows, the flame within the lantern beside her flickering briefly twice.

The wings on the captain's back droop slowly downward as he lowers his hand onto the bar crouching over ever so slightly. "Died? From what, the island?"

"I don't know, but from what it sounds like. Yeah." She gulps. "One get taken away on a boat.. of sorts? The other follows and lands onto the island probably to chase after their friend, and never comes back."

Jordan feels his heart drop further down into his chest. He finds himself fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, already a million possibilities running through his head "Did they get a look at who took the first one away, at least? So there's somewhere to start?"

"All that I was told is that they were dressed in robes. Could've been a cult, bandits in disguise, ghosts for all I know- Not much to go off of." She solemnly runs her hand through her hair, reaching to untie her bandana allowing her bangs to fall into her face. "It's a feckin' shame really... after all these years. I didn't think anything of that damn accursed land would ever come back. Because here I thought they'd be able to recover properly this time, not let whatever still lingers take back over."

A glaze falls over Jordan's expression. Memories of dried violet entrails wrapping around buildings, skeletons not unlike in appearance to Rupert buried in the masses of warped wood and sunken docks. Wind howled over the tops of the valleys and mountains carved out, through temples that had been thought to be abandoned for centuries. The time he, Kara, Red and Dave travelled there in search of another medallion there was a certain eerie silence, the sign of a land that no longer had any visible, breathing life to it, but remained haunted by all that came before, and all that was yet to come.

Jordan furrowed his eyebrows together. "That means… the island's alive again?"

Capsize nodded. "Aye. The island is alive again."

[look-mom-percys-on-the-tv]

Ep 5 reactions

spoilers beneath the cut for s1e5 and minor spoilers for most of the books, but I censored the traitor's name. mostly positive tone.

ANNABETH SAW THE FUCKING FATES

"Im the last one to realize this aren't I" A LITTLE BIT

I love Percy admitting there he was really ONLY in it for Sally. Poseidon does ONE good thing and all of a sudden it's "wait I think the conspiracy to start war betten the gods is... important?" SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MEET REASONABLE PARENTING EXPECTATIONS? A certain god could be taking notes, specifically the patent of [REDACTED]

go off Percy with the emotional intelligence. A for effort

and an A PLUS to Annabeth for the sharing important info and being vulnerable.

I see that coat covering the bike seat. there's human skin on that thing, isn't there?

LIVING the portrayal of Ares as man-baby who starts twitter fights. average maturity level of anyone who likes war.

"there's no fear in you, is there?" STAWPPP

THEY KEPT THE MANHUNT PLOT🎉🎉🎉🎉 also the Gabe is Gabe-ing. Manipulate mansplain manwhore on the most literal level. except disney probably cut the womanizer bit.

the whole "Im immature as shit but my threats are real, I hold all the cards" THE GOD OF WAR IS GODOFWAR-ING

"can I walk them to the door" IS HE GONNA RUN FOR IT? they're really letting Grover miss out on this quest, huh? I mean I guess it makes sense. PLUS it means more Grover-exclusive scenes! MY BOYY

that's a lie. there HAVE to be corny movie nights at camp, right?

ALSO botl movie date, anyone?👀👀👀👀

is that? a JOKE I HEAR??? poking fun at Percy? a little. Genuine? ALSO TRUE. If you told me that "amusing" line was Liften from the book and I've just forgotten about it all five million times I read it, I WOULD BELIEVE YOU

Annabeth who complimented Circe's loom when Percy got cursed🤝 Annabeth who complimented Hepheastus when Percy got trapped

the way she says push before telling him what it is😭😭😭

WE'VE MET BEFORE. I'M 24. A FAN!? GROVER WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT

songs about feelings that was PERSONAL

*insert Coach Hedge talking about nature*

Annabeth asking what Ares need the kids for if he wants the bolt/thinks their quest means nothing🤝 Grover gaslight girlbossing : doing detective work under Percy's nose

OOOH good detail with Percy being caught up with all the "3000 year-old goss" because HIS MOTHER TOLD HIM hi sally i fuckign love u

"don't even try to tell me not to be weird about this" we love an honest queen. While I kinda miss book Annabeth being a bit stompy and whiny at this part, I do think that the show version suits its own characterization of Annabeth, saying whatever she thinks needs to be said.

this whole show, I've been able to see everything. episode five DO NOT be the one to let me down! PLEASE!

THE SONG omg i wasnt expecting that. miraculous movie flashbacks fr.

W CONVO. DOUBLEYOU CONVO. nothing to add. perfection.

Also. don't shoot but the song choice unironically fits Hephaestus's story.

SWIMMING

is that a giant gold naked statue of Hera? to taunt them for cheating on him? hypocrite.

"they like to ignore what doesn't fit their narrative" [REDACTED] APOLOGISTS TAKE NOTES.

also, SMOOTH AF

okay there's no way Annabeth doesn't know that story. there's ONE way to take a god's power and she doesn't know it? at least let them tell it in tandem! a little "Yeah I recognize the chair, what of it?" THEN let the touchy-feely boy present the bargain. AT LEAST.

SHE'S NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HIM

"do you need some help?" "FUCK OFF" that's Annabeth

in the one hand, I am not a fan of depriving Annabeth of her super wisdom hero moment. on the other hand, placing responsibility to fix things on the perpetrators instead of those kids from Season ONE queen shit, and showing people can change. slay, but PLEASE let Annabeth do some more puzzle shit!

THE SHIELD LOOKS SO BIG IN HER HANDS

THESE FUCKIGN TWELMVE YEAR OLDS

OH so [REDACTED] and Ares conspired to make sure the trio never makes it there, not just using the magic things that activate at a certain place, but also by DIRECTING THEM TO THE TIME FREEZE ON PURPOSE

TO SUMMON WHAT

that interaction. SO THEM

YOU KNOW WHO WHATTED THE WHAT

[md-confessions]

I'd like to throw my hat into the ring on the whole "romantic Nuzi vs QPR Nuzi"

Just stop fighting over this crap.

I've seen it from both sides, saying one is better than the other.

write your AUs and fics for whatever interpretation you want of Nuzi, but accept that it will be a certain way in canon. It's very likely romantic, but even the nuances of how they are in that romantic relationship are bound to be different in canon compared to how people headcanon it.

And just because two characters are in a romantic relationship DOESN'T mean the platonic side of that relationship is lost. They don't have to be making out at all times and declaring their romantic love all the time, they can still be friends. They can still make jokes with each other and laugh or talk about their interests. Just because people focus on the romantic part, doesn't mean they've forgotten the platonic. People can focus on different things and at different times.

I know I've been harsh to the QPR side in this ask, but that's because I've seen a bunch of people in support of that side here that just seem to straight up hate the romantic side and call it bad. Dislike the romantic side all you want, that's fine, but just because you dislike something doesn't make it bad.

And if romantic Nuzi ends up becoming canon, you have to deal with that. That's the decision Liam Vickers made and just because you prefer something else doesn't give you permission to shit on it and call it bad despite it not being objectively bad, and it doesn't give you permission to insult people who support that interpretation.

This goes for every ship. Just because Nuviz is my favorite ship doesn't mean I go around saying my interpretation of the main trio's dynamic is better. I hope Nuviz becomes canon, but that doesn't mean I'll be put off by the show if it doesn't.

And if there are romantic Nuzi fans out there that are actually shitting on QPR Nuzi fans for no good reason (I haven't seen it much but I know it's out there), quit it you babies. It'd be the Nuzi vs Envy thing all over again and I don't think any reasonable person wants that. Accept that other people have other preferred interpretations and stop shoving it down their throat that "I was right, my version is canon." Good for you, now fuck off to the corner so everyone can have fun again. Just because your interpretation is canon does not give you permission to shit on other people's interpretation. I know I said earlier that if romantic Nuzi is canon then the QPR Nuzi fans have to deal with it, but it doesn't mean they have to abandon their interpretation and it doesn't mean you get to insult them and proclaim you are a god amongst men for "getting it right."

TL;DR learn to accept other's opinions rather than imposing yours on other fans and the creators. And do be kind to each other, we're real humans after all, not just profile pictures and walls of text.

And to those who do want their interpretation of Nuzi, romantic or QPR: Write a fic about it. Trust me, it will make your day to write the media you want to see. It's what I'm doing, and I've really enjoyed my interpretation of the main cast despite it being quite different in canon.

In the the end, I just want people to be happy. And if there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that if you stop hating so much, you'll be much happier. I used to hate a lot, and I was a miserable soul. I don't wish that fate on anyone.

Uh, apologizes for the long confession, and again, I apologize to the QPR Nuzi fans for targeting them mainly in this confession. You guys are completely valid and I encourage you to keep shipping them like this regardless of how they are in canon, as long as you don't impose that interpretation on their canon versions. Like I said, write a fic about it. You'll be happier.

(Also I put that TL;DR way too early but I'm too lazy to go back and reformat this. Also, I apologize to the moderator for this blog if I insulted or offended them in anyway, I just wanted to voice my thoughts on this situation so people could maybe chill a little.)

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