#and had to survive to return back……..

[viktorthemachineherald]

What actually happened to Jayce and Viktor in the end? And why didn’t Ekko’s Z-drive destroy everything within its blast radius?

TL;DR: the only timeline that could have worked was the one where Viktor gives Jayce the Acceleration rune, where Ekko invents the Z-drive, and where Jayce saves Viktor and gets his partner back.

Something we’ve seen pointed out is that the world rune that worked in this timeline was the Acceleration rune, which has the function of transportation through time and space. 

Ekko’s Z-drive was built by inverting Jayce’s Acceleration rune (this is important later).

We know from his experiments that the limit for reversing time is only 4 seconds. Any further back and it causes catastrophic harm to his surroundings. It’s implied that the further he overextends his Z-drive, the more disastrous the damage and radius of effect.

In the final battle against Viktor, we see Ekko overextend his Z-drive far beyond 4 seconds. Then, he yeets it at Viktor, whose mask is shattered from the impact.

We know that turning back time beyond 4 seconds causes catastrophic destruction of the surrounding areas: Jayce and Viktor, and perhaps countless others should have been caught up in the blast. But instead, we see something different:

Time stands still for a moment, courtesy of the boy who shattered time. 

Now things happen all in a manner of seconds: In the astral plane, we see Viktor comment on the anomaly that Ekko has created.

It’s something that Viktor as smart as he is, couldn’t have conceived— leave it to Ekko (and lest I forget, Heimerdinger and alt-Jinx) to show them all up.

This is debatable, but I firmly believe that Viktor with his awareness of all time and space, could have escaped or even survived the explosion.

It’s only Jayce, the only person who could show him what he showed him, that gets through to him in the end and convinces him to give up his Glorious Evolution.

"In all timelines, only you can show me this". Ekko is the catalyst but Jayce was the key.

Jayce returns the Acceleration rune to Viktor which kicks off a chain of events. The souls under Viktor’s control are freed from his grasp. Back in the real world, and back to the explosion, we see the following happening almost simultaneously: 

The blast from the Z-drive extends from Viktor’s reach to Jayce’s

The Acceleration rune embedded in Jayce’s wrist starts to glow from being activated by Jayce and Viktor in the astral plane

Jayce and Viktor are absorbed into the gem and the gemstone blips out of existence 

Recall that the Z-drive was created through an inversion of the Acceleration rune. To multiply something by its inverse, is to divide it by itself. The Acceleration rune multiplied by the Inversed Acceleration rune, cancels out the effect of the other: nullifying both the anomaly from the Z-drive but also the rune.

This explains why there was no larger explosion. Viktor and Jayce (who chose to stay) sacrificed themselves and took themselves out of the equation. Jayce and Viktor were the anomalies— just like the Z-drive should not have existed, neither should have Hextech.

Through all the timelines and permutations of runes that Viktor tried, the only combination that could have worked was in the timeline with the Acceleration rune. It couldn’t have worked if it was any other rune, if Ekko had never invented the Z-drive, or if Jayce had never convinced Viktor to give up his path of destruction, and got his partner back.

In short: Boy Savior saves the day; Love Wins

[writings-of-a-rando]

To anyone reading this congratulations. It means that you're about to make a nice living. The down side? You're about to enter a world you never wanted to. When I started i was just as clueless as you are. This is why I wrote this: The Hellyard Survival Guide. Contrary to the name this place isn't so bad. I'll start with the rules of this place, and than move onto the spirits that appear.

Rule 1. The graveyard HAS to have someone in it at night. If a living isn't here than they can get out.

Rule 2. Once midnight comes you won't be able to get out. So make sure you have everything you need for the night. Make sure to bring books. Electronics don't work once midnight comes.

Rule 3. The shack you're in is the safest place to be as long as you DO NOT touch the runes. Made that mistake my second night. Those runes are there to protect you in case the really violent ones come out.

Rule 4. Treat the dead with respect. They're not all bad or evil. Some of them are just enjoying their afterlife here.

Rule 5. NEVER accept anything from them. If you take something into that shack they can get in. If you take it home they come with you.

Rule 6. They all have unfinished business. If you can help them resolve it than do it. If it works than they'll be able to move on. However none of them remember what that unfinished business is. So it's all guess work.

You'll probably ignore some or all of these rules. So until you finish your first night I don't recommend going any further. You need to truly believe what is next before you continue. If you didn't just toss this in the bin. Lucky for you I embedded the leather with runes that protect it. And call it back here.

Now, let's start with the types of spirits you'll encounter. I'll go from least to most harmful. And if you encounter ANYTHING non-human than you get your ass back to the shack, and you hunker down. More on that in a bit.

First are the roamers. They just walk around, acknowledge you, and keep going. Some of them will stop and engage in conversation. They are the best source of information for who, and what, is out.

Next are the triksters and screamers. These ones are just going to scare the shit out of you. They do all kinds of things, and will mimic roamers. These are usually children, or those who had tragic deaths. Their bodies usually have marks, or are younger than roamers.

Next are geists. They can touch you. But that's about it. Sometimes when they touch you you'll get a premonition. It's in your best interest to follow-up on it.

Second to last are Ghouls. They've possessed their old bodies. Take a shovel and give them a good whack to the head. Than return them in the right grave.

Finally are demons. DO NOT ENAGE THEM. GET YOUR ASS TO THE SHACK AND BUNKER DOWN! The one way you'll know that they're out is that only the ghouls will be out.

Feel free to add to this guide if anything new happens.

You've been hired to clean a graveyard every night for 80 bucks an hour. Its haunted. And by god you are going to make that 80 bucks an hour

[gaywineauntsstuff]

DC comics are so exaggerated to the point that very talented writers cringe writing fanfiction for it

Because what do you mean a human 170pound 5’10 man survived falling from a building by tucking and rolling

Or that same 170 pound man’s best PR being 1000 kilograms

Or like

How did a character break his back and within a year return to business as usual

Or

How does a 10 year old have more general knowledge of the world than most members of the justice league

Like?

I have seen so many phenomenal fanfiction writers struggle with the batfamily because in their mind 2 months of torture is enough to brainwash and mind control them.

Which like yeah….sure

Except that it’s not

Like canonically all of them can shake of torture for longer than that

Or like a near drowning experience or after holding their breath for 3-4 mins

Like that above human capability

But I fear

All of them can go for 7+ mins

The their stats are broken

Or like 2 characters will speak in a language and another character won’t know it.

Dick Grayson has never had a language he previously knew stripped away and they introduce a couple new ones every few years I’m like 80% sure we’re in the mid-20s early 30s for those.

Or

Crowbar sounds are triggering for Jason

Jason wearing a bomb helmet and using a crowbar as a weapon Todd

Character could instantly tell something was wrong with the other

…every member of the batfamily at any given moment

“I am numb I feel nothing focus on the mission I am numb don’t show anything focus on the mission I am numb I don’t feel anything focus on the mission I am numb I don’t-“

Like I love my angst

But Tim had his WHOLE fucked up Red Robin run and proceeded to go fuck it we ball after

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |11|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of injuries, talks of killing, talks of attack

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

You sat on a bed in the ambulance as you got stitched up, again. For the second time, in one day, you had to have your wound from the previous day restitched, then on top of that you needed the wound on your leg stitched. For once you got lucky and the cut on your arm didn’t go deep enough for stitches, the medic just cleaned it and wrapped it.

Much to Sam’s displeasure you refused to go to the hospital, again. You were fine though, you had a slight limp at the moment but once you got used to the pain, you’d be fine, you just needed to walk it off. Besides, you couldn’t waste time going to the hospital, it would take too long and two attacks in a day meant Ghostface could do it again. You weren’t about to leave Sam and her friends alone just to get properly patched up.

You hopped out of the ambulance with a groan, clenching your jaw as you tried not to focus on the pain that radiated throughout your leg. You walked off, trying not to flinch with each step. You looked down, pulling at your shirt as you took in the new blood stain from your torn stitches, which wasn’t nearly as bad as the blood on your pants from that stab wound. If people didn’t know you had literally just been attacked, they’d probably assumed you committed a murder.

“Survived to tell the tale again,” Kirby said, approaching you just like last time. “Seems Ghostface got some hits in,” she tilted her head, gesturing at the bandage on your arm.

You held up your arm, giving the bandage a look, then scoffed. “Cheap shots,” you said with an eye roll.

Kirby gave a knowing hum. “That’s how he does things.”

“I’m learning that,” you mumbled.

You would be prepared next time. The first time, you didn’t have anything, but you caught him off guard, until the second one appeared. The second time you were caught off guard, forced to run into a territory filled with civilians, you won that one, but you didn’t finish the job. And now the third time, you were once again caught off guard, without weapons, your only priority had been to make sure the others got away, taking Ghostface out was your second priority. The fourth time would be different, you would make sure of it. The next time you went up against Ghostface would be the last, for every single one of them.

“You got everyone out,” Kirby said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Not everyone,” you whispered. You looked across the way where you saw the coroner wheeling Quinn’s body out on the stretcher. A sheet was covering her face, but you knew she was under there. Bailey looked distraught as they stopped next to him, allowing him to say goodbye one last time.

You narrowed your eyes, Bailey was crying over his dead daughter, there was nothing out of the ordinary, it was the reaction anyone would expect from a father. Bailey had been the first on the scene this time, by several minutes before anyone else, as if he was already on his way there. There was a chance that was the case, he could have been coming by to see his daughter or update everyone on the case. There was something tugging at the back of your mind though, telling you not to take it at face value, Bailey was the last to arrive after the bodega attack, but the first on the scene to the apartment, which happened to be when his daughter was murdered.

You furrowed your brow; you and the girls had gone back to the apartment right after the attack. The only person who had left the apartment was Ethan, you knew the twins wouldn’t let some random stranger into the apartment, besides Quinn’s hookup, who was found dead in the bathtub. That meant Ghostface had to either have been in the apartment the whole time, which was improbable, there was no way he could have stayed hidden for so long. The other option was that he got in another way, possibly through one of the windows, which meant he had to climb up the fire escape. Your eyes tracked the fire escape from the ground up to where you knew Sam’s apartment was. The ladder wasn’t pushed down but the dumpster was close enough that if Ghostface jumped up on it he could have pulled himself up onto the ladder. It still should have made enough noise for someone to notice, but no one did, not until the phone call came in.

“I should get to work,” Kirby said. You nodded and watched her walk off towards the crime scene.

You looked around the area, seeing Chad with Mindy as she got patched up in the back of another ambulance. A medic checked out Anika right outside the ambulance, but you knew the worst Anika probably had was a concussion from being slammed into the wall. Sam and Tara weren’t too far from the ambulance as they talked to an officer. You noticed Danny standing off to the side by the gate and decided to walk over to him.

“Hey,” you said, giving him a nod.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, nodding at your arm.

“It’s nothing,” you waved it off.

“Almost bleeding out it my apartment doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You chuckled, you couldn’t help but nod. The cut on your arm and the tearing of your stitches really was nothing. The real issue was the stab wound on your leg, the knife had gone deep and was bleeding quite a bit before the medics got to you. Honestly, if you didn’t get help when you did you would have most definitely bled out, not that you were going to mention that to Sam or anyone else, but it was definitely something you should have gone to the hospital for.

“I just wanted to thank you,” you said. “That ladder stunt was crazy,” you smiled, shaking your head. “But it was fucking brilliant man.”

Danny chuckled and scratched the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. “Me? What about you?” he gestured at you. “Jumping from the middle of the ladder? Now, that,” he pointed at you. “That is fucking insane.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. That was one of the craziest stunts you had ever done, and you had jumped out of planes and helicopters before, though you always had a parachute. You were bleeding out, the ladder was unstable, if you had missed, if you didn’t fall to your death, you probably would have broken most of the bones in your body.

“Do you need a change of clothes?” Danny’s question caught you off guard. “I got some you could borrow since you look…” he gestured at all of you. You looked down at your bloody self, you wouldn’t be able to go back to your house and change again.

“Thanks,” you said. “But I got some in my car,” you pointed to your vehicle down the street. “But can I change in your apartment?” Danny nodded.

You made your way over to your car, fighting through the pain that shot through your leg at every step. You opened the back door and unzipped the duffle bag you kept back there; you made sure to always have a change of clothes and anything else you would need in your car. You grabbed your spare plain black t-shirt and black cargo pants. You were sure you’d look rather intimidating walking around in all black, but you needed to be ready for a fight.

You followed Danny up to his apartment, grimacing at the pool of blood on his hard wood floor. You would have to make sure to pay to get that cleaned up, you knew how hard blood was to get out of things. The cops had walked the apartment when they first arrived but because the attack didn’t happen there, they finished up after a few minutes and made their way over to the actual crime scene.

You made your way into Danny’s bathroom to quickly changed. You pulled off your bloodied shirt and had to do a double take when you caught site of yourself in the mirror. You were in great shape, spending most of your time training, when you weren’t deployed, but your body had been through a lot. The stab wound on your side and the cut down your arm was nothing compared to the rest of you. Even the wound on your leg didn’t seem like much. Your body was litter with scars from knife and gun shot wounds, all the times you almost died. You subconsciously brought a hand to the tattoo over your heart, it was the insignia of army special forces, with the initials of your teammates throughout. As your finger brushed over the tattoo you could feel the scar underneath, the bullet that should have killed you.

You shook your head, pushing the memories down as far as they would go. You couldn’t be thinking about that, Sam needed you at your best, you couldn’t let your own trauma get in the way of that. You gripped the sink until your knuckles turned white and kept your eyes pinched shut until you had completely pushed everything away. When you looked up again, you recognized the soldier in the mirror, the one that would do whatever it took to make sure the mission succeeded and right now the mission was saving Sam and her friends. You quickly threw on the clean clothes and made your way back down to the others.

“You fuck with my family, you die,” Bailey said just as you walked out of the apartment.

You furrowed your brow as he talked to Sam. You knew he was upset; it was natural for a father to want revenge on his daughter. However, it hadn’t even been an hour since Quinn was killed, it didn’t make sense for him to be so cold and logically already.

You made your way over to Sam and Tara’s side just as Gale Weathers walked up. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Gale said.

“Don’t even start,” Sam snapped.

“I’m not here for that.” Her gaze flicked to you; you could tell she still wanted to ask you questions but she didn’t.

“Bullshit.”

“Truly,” Gale tried again. “Off the record,” she rolled her eyes. “I found something you’ll all want to see.”

Gale didn’t say what she wanted to show everyone, she just said it was connected to Ghostface. Sam and Tara began gathering the others, you couldn’t help but furrow your brow when Ethan appeared. Chad kept flicking a glare at him, you weren’t sure what happened while you were changing but if Chad was suspicious of Ethan, then whatever happened certainly couldn’t have been bad. Once everyone was gathered you all made your way to the location Gale sent.

You stood close to Sam as everyone gathered at the front of an alleyway, as Gale explained the two kids from Tara’s class who were killed rented the building. It was broad daylight, making an attack unlikely but not impossible. Attacking someone during the day was a risk, higher probability of being seen, but it was unexpected, it was a way to catch the target off guard.

Gale and Kirby argued over how Gale found the place. You knew Gale was a good reporter and reporters had the habit of finding things they shouldn’t, but the fact that Kirby didn’t know the place existed was concerning, considering she was in the FBI and specialized in Ghostface cases. You glanced over everyone else, Chad stood next to Ethan, who had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking uncomfortable and out of place as usual. Mindy had her arm wrapped around Anika, whispering something in her ear. Anika hadn’t said a word since the attack, she just had a distant look in her eyes as her entire body shook. You had seen that look plenty of times, in soldiers after their first fight, in survivors after an attack, it wasn’t easy to get past, but everyone did eventually, with time.

You followed the group down the alley, with Gale leading the way. Gale swiped a card, unlocking a large metal door at the end of the alley. The door led down a dimly lit hallway, the dated red wallpaper was peeling, revealing the stained drywall underneath. You looked down, there was a thin dark red carpet to match the wall, though you could feel how sticky it was every time you lifted your foot. You came to a stop, furrowing your brow as Gale swung open a door and stepped into a metal cage of some sort, before swiping the card again and opening another metal door.

“What is this place?” Mindy asked.

“Just wait,” Gale said, before disappearing. She walked off to the side, a second later there was a loud click that echoed throughout the room, and then all the lights came on.

You couldn’t help the way your mouth fell open, it was some sort of old movie theater. “It’s a shrine,” Gale said as she rejoined the group. You looked around, seeing she had flipped the breaker.

“Holy shit,” Mindy whispered.

The theater was filled with display cases, all of them full of stuff you assumed was from previous Ghostface attacks. It even seemed that whoever created the shrine dressed up mannequins in the actual clothes from the killers and victims, at least that’s what you gathered from the bloodstains on the clothes in question. All the displays led straight to the stage, and in center stage was a set of nine Ghostface costumes, each of them in their own special display case.

You walked through the displays, your eyes scanning over all the information. You had heard bits and pieces from the news over the years, but you never knew it was anything like this. Whoever these new people were, they clearly had done their research, they seemed to have planned everything quite thoroughly. Everything from all previous Ghostface attacks was in one room, that definitely wasn’t a coincidence, you knew something bigger was at play, everything was too easy.

Kirby said she had been investigating the two college kids, they were stupid enough to get on Kirby’s radar before they ever even killed someone. Yet, this place was apparently theirs and hidden so well even Kirby couldn’t find it. On top of that, even if they were rich kids, there seemed to be too much evidence, there was no way they got everything by simply bribing cops.

You stopped at one of the displays, there were sketches of Sam and Tara. You figured it must have been from the attack last year. In the display was also crime scene photos, and photos of Tara. You flicked your eyes to Tara as she made her way up the stage towards her sister, just based on the photos she had endured one hell of an attack. Your eyes then fell on a picture of some guy, smiling at the camera, the nameplate at the bottom read ‘Richie Kirsch’ Sam’s ex-boyfriend. You wrinkled your nose at the picture, you didn’t know the full story, didn’t know anything about the guy, but you didn’t like him from a simple photo.

“So, what,” Chad said. “Someone killed these guys and took over?” you made your way up to the center of the stage where everyone else had already gathered.

“If this were a normal Stab movie,” Mindy said. “This would be the killers lair.”

“But this isn’t a normal Stab movie,” Kirby said.

This wasn’t a movie at all. You might not have been used to this whole thing, but you didn’t get all the movie references. This wasn’t a movie, even if some psycho was inspired by a movie, this was real life, real people died, and Ghostface was just a normal guy behind a mask. You wouldn’t deny that the place certainly looked like a lair, they were definitely right about that part. The idea that two kids created the whole space, only to end up dead and have someone else take up the Ghostface mantle and know about this room just didn’t seem plausible. All your senses were telling you to take nothing at face value, that there was something deeper going on.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Through the Static

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X Female!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries, brief mentions of drinking, fluff

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy! The reader is a radio operator in this one while Ghostie is injured.

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The forest was a maze of shifting shadows and biting cold, the moonlight barely cutting through the dense canopy. Ghost pressed a gloved hand to his side, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage he'd hastily wrapped around the wound. He didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t.

His comms had been destroyed in the ambush, but the battered field radio he'd salvaged crackled faintly in his ear. It was his only connection to the outside world, his only chance at survival.

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting the knobs. Static hissed, wavered, and then—

“This is Operator Delta… Anyone receiving? Over.”

Ghost’s hand froze. A voice.

“This is Bravo-Zero-Six,” he rasped, his voice low and strained. “Stranded. Injured. No extraction in sight. Location unknown. Over.”

A pause followed, then your voice returned, calm and steady.

“Bravo-Zero-Six, I’ve got you. Can you describe your surroundings? Over.”

Ghost exhaled through his nose, forcing his mind to focus. “Forest. Sparse cover. Northwest of the last known position. Nightfall. No landmarks.”

“Copy that,” you said, your tone professional but warm. “Head north. I’ll guide you to a safe zone. Stay on this channel, and keep moving. You’re not alone, Bravo-Zero-Six. Over.”

Not alone. The words shouldn’t have mattered, but they did. Ghost adjusted his pack and began moving again.

Hours stretched on, his body growing heavier with each step. The cold seeped through his gear, and the ache in his side turned sharper, each breath a reminder of the shrapnel lodged there. But your voice on the radio was constant, grounding.

“Still with me, Bravo-Zero-Six?”

“Still here,” he muttered, his voice taut with pain.

“How’s the injury?”

“Manageable.”

“Sure it is,” you replied, a teasing note slipping into your tone. “You’re not going to impress me by bleeding out quietly, Ghost.”

He huffed a breath that might have been a laugh. “Wasn’t trying to.”

“Well, good,” you said. “Because I’d like you alive enough to buy me a drink when this is over.”

Ghost blinked, caught off guard by the casual boldness of your remark. He hadn’t expected warmth, humor—not from someone on the other end of a radio in a dire situation.

“Make it out alive,” he said, his tone gruff but not unfriendly, “and we’ll talk.”

The clearing you’d guided him to came into view just as Ghost’s legs threatened to give out. The faint thrum of helicopter blades reached his ears, growing louder as he stumbled forward, each step heavier than the last.

He collapsed onto his knees, his vision blurring as his body finally gave in. Your voice crackled in his ear one last time, soft and steady.

“Hold on, Ghost. They’ve got you now.”

The recovery ward was quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the steady beep of a heart monitor the only sounds. Ghost blinked against the brightness, his body heavy with exhaustion but alive.

The radio on the bedside table caught his eye—a battered relic from the field, but the sight of it brought back the sound of your voice, the hours of guidance that had kept him moving.

The door creaked open, and his gaze snapped toward it.

“Permission to enter, Bravo-Zero-Six?”

Your voice, softer in person but instantly recognizable, sent a strange flicker of warmth through him. You stepped inside, a faint smile on your lips as you approached his bedside.

“Ghost,” he said, nodding slightly.

“Operator Delta,” you replied with a small grin. “But some people call me Daisy. It’s a nickname.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, the closest thing to a smile he’d managed in days. “Pleasure to meet you properly.”

A pause hung in the air, heavy with unspoken gratitude. Finally, he added, his voice softer than usual, “But you can call me Simon.”

Your eyes flickered with surprise, your smile softening. “Simon, then.” You sat down in the chair beside him, leaning forward slightly muttering your name to him, “But Daisy works, too.”

The room fell quiet again, not awkward but comfortable, the weight of everything that had happened settling between you.

Weeks passed before Simon was cleared for light duty. When he finally reached out to you, it was through an unassuming message:

“You still want that drink, Daisy?”

The bar he chose was quiet, tucked into a corner of town far from the noise and bustle of crowded streets. Simon arrived early, dressed casually in a dark jacket and jeans. His mask was gone, though the balaclava he wore was a reminder of the man most people knew him to be.

When you walked in, he stood, his sharp blue eyes tracking your every move. You smiled when you saw him, and something in his chest eased.

“I was starting to think you’d chicken out,” you teased as you slid into the seat across from him.

“Not a chance,” he said, his voice lighter than usual.

The conversation flowed easier than he’d expected. You talked about everything and nothing—the absurdity of some missions, favorite songs, even the meaning behind your nickname.

“Daisy?” he asked, a brow lifting.

You laughed softly. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve got a habit of finding light in dark places.”

Simon didn’t say anything, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips.

When the night came to an end, he walked you to your car, the cold night air nipping at his skin.

“You surprised me, Simon,” you said as you turned to face him.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t think someone like you would keep a promise like this.”

He tilted his head, his gaze steady. “You kept me alive, Daisy. Least I could do.”

The warmth in your smile made something in him shift, something he couldn’t quite name. For the first time in years, he thought that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to face everything alone.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[ganxiously]

This is the part of the helicopter crash fic I started writing today. I don't know if I'm going to post it to ao3 but I did want to share it here. Now, this first update is angst so read at your own risk, but it will be a happy ending, I promise. This is Tommy's pov and I'll be back with Buck's side of things and the aftermath as soon as I have finished writing them —

The silence is stark in the aftermath and Tommy’s ears ring like they are still expecting the screech of the altitude alarms or the roar of metal crashing into rocks and trees. He’s not sure what happened, one moment he was flying his helo back to Harbour and the next, the altitude alarms started going off one by one. He had tried to fix it, tried to pull the bird up even as it became amply clear that nothing was working. They had dropped fast, swinging this side and that with the wind and then his tail had hit the cliffside, sending him and his medic rolling down the mountain in a 30-tonne metal can. He doesn’t know what happened to her, Amy, a new recruit with a penchant for keeping to herself. That’s why they worked together so well, a good thing until it led them here.

“Amy?”, he manages to ask, his voice coming out hoarse. “Medic Garcia?”

There is nothing. Not even the sound of feeble breaths. Tommy swallows the burgeoning feeling of grief and panic and tries to think of a way out. It’s dead of the night, the scenery outside the broken glass of his wind-screen pitch black, the flickering lights of the city not even visible from where he’s landed. He tries to move himself and then immediately freezes as the pain threatens to take away his consciousness. 

This is bad, he thinks. I don’t know how to get out of this one.

He is still strapped into his harness and beneath that, his flight suit is soaked with blood. It feels tacky and slippery against his skin, enough of it that he knows wherever it’s coming from, it’s not good news. It’s not survivable. His legs are pinned and he’s pretty sure the wet feeling around his eyes is blood. His ribs hurt and when he tries to move his hands, his shoulders refuse to bear the weight.

Oh, I am definitely not getting out of this one.

The realisation hits like G during a rapid climb and for the first time in long while, Tommy’s scared. He is terrified, as terrified as he hasn’t been since he was a wet-behind-his-ears boy seeing war for the first time. He thinks his hands would shake if he could move them that fast, his breath would stutter if it already wasn’t, wheezing past the damage, past the blood and tickling at his lips.  He doesn’t want to die like this, the thought occurs to him. He doesn’t want to die at all. He wants to turn back time and return to those scant months when he had been, for once, truly happy. He wants . . . he wants Evan. Beside him, holding his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on Tommy’s palm as he talks about anything and everything that comes to his mind.

Maybe that is the thing about impending death. Its finality, its loneliness puts things into perspective really fast. When he had all the time in the world, he had faltered, he had a thousand and one excuses ready as to why it was a bad idea. Now that Tommy’s out of time, there is not one that seems to hold up to reason. He wants Evan, he loves Evan and he should have told him that when he still had the chance. He should have spent every second he had left loving him.

He somehow manages to take his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see that it’s still mostly intact, except for the one thin crack down the middle. He thumbs it open and there he is, brushed golden in the sun and laughing at something Tommy had said. It’s a damn shame he can’t remember anymore what that something had been. There’s no cell service on his phone, which is bad but it also relieves him. He doesn’t have to make a 911 call, only to tell them they are already too late and like this, he won’t give in to the urge to hear Evan’s voice one last time.

He opens their message thread like he has done so many times these past couple of weeks, typing and deleting messages that never seem to be able to convey his complicated thoughts. He clicks on the typing bar, watches the keyboard pop up and then just keeps on staring, looking at the bloody fingerprint on his screen as he tries to think of what to write. What last words do you text your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with? That I’m sorry and I think I’m an even bigger asshole than you probably think I am?

The pain in his body notches up, so spread out that he barely knows where it originates from and he grits his teeth with an effort to keep himself from screaming. Eventually, it passes and Tommy takes the opportunity to click on the voice message button to the right.

“Buck.”

He hates that name on his tongue. 

“Evan.”, he starts and then stops again because it still doesn’t feel enough. It doesn’t feel like it encapsulates everything Tommy associates with that name — the warmth, the safety, the incredulous how is he real? and the helpless adoration that he just can’t seem to keep at bay no matter how much he tries. So, he gives it one more shot, “Evan. My Evan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a million things.”

A cough stops him, the movement jostling him enough that pain rips through him anew and he is left gasping and sobbing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I’m sorry I didn’t leave earlier and I’m sorry I left when I did . . . I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He swallows the blood in his mouth or at least, he tries to but all of it comes out with the next cough.

“I should have stuck around. I should have stayed and I should have loved you as long as you let me. I should . . . I should have told you I love you. Even—even if you don’t and that’s okay. You should— you shouldn’t love someone like me but that was no reason to not tell you I did. I just . . . I should have loved you as hard as I could while I still had the chance, Evan. You, at least, deserved that.”

He’s getting colder by the second and the part of his brain that still works, tells him that he is going into shock. Tommy’s running out of time and he’s running out of time fast.

“I don’t want to die.”, he manages to say through the sobs racking through his throat. He thinks he should feel pain but there isn’t anything beyond numbness anymore, “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go through death alone. I want you . . .”

No, but that’s not right, is it? He doesn’t want Evan in this mess. Evan doesn’t deserve to get hurt again just to accompany Tommy in his last moments. He should be far away, happy, healthy and at peace. Maybe it is better that they broke up. If this was always supposed to be the end, it is surely better that Evan no doubt hates Tommy a little bit now. Maybe, if he’s lucky, Evan will leave a flower on his grave one day.

“I really wanted to be your last, you know?”, he finally says after a minute of silence, the words spilling out almost conversationally, long after he thought he’s run out of things to say. “But more than that, I wanted you to be my last and I’m happy that I got it, even if it’s not in the way I wanted it to be.”

And it's so fucking typical of him, isn’t it? He is being so selfish right now, ruining Evan’s life like this just so he can get some things off his chest. And he knows Evan, he knows what this message will do to him. Evan will go through life with the burden of Tommy’s regret on his shoulders and he hates how tempting that thought is, that if not in his heart, Tommy’s existence will at least have a place in the scars he carries for the rest of his life.

Here lies Tommy Kinard. He’s the bastard that broke my heart once upon a time.

But no, he can’t do that to Evan. He’s been selfish when he kissed Evan the first time, when they decided to give it a second try and when he hurt Evan to protect himself. He’s been selfish every moment that he managed to steal in between.

“Nevermind.”, he breathes out, smiling through the blood that’s threatening to choke him. “Nevermind, Evan. You— you don’t need to know all that. You should forget me. Forget there was ever a Tommy Kinard who loved you. Live a happy life and maybe . . . maybe in our next one, I’ll get to keep you. I’ll delete this now. I would have deleted myself out of your life too if I could’ve but this will have to do. I’m really outta time here, kid.”

He tries to blink away the blind spots around the edges of his vision but he’s fading fast. He fights against the unmoored feeling that is taking over, tries to swipe his screen in hopes of deleting the message but his hands are too slick and too weak to do anything anymore. The phone slips from his grasp and falls with a thunk somewhere near his feet, not that it matters. Not when he can barely remember what he was doing with the phone in the first place. Something to do with Evan. Maybe.

He huffs at his uselessness.

“Evan.”, his lips shape the word with care even though his voice doesn’t quite manage to colour it fully but it’s enough. It’s enough to have that be the last thing he speaks, to be the last thing he thinks about. The name washes away the cold like dawning sunrise on a crisp winter morning and Tommy is at peace, he is content.

“Tommy?”

That’s Evan’s voice. He has to go. He has to answer. He has to—

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: A Human’s Oath

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The Praxis Prefecture was one of the few galactic powers that held on to the notion of kings and queens even as they reached the star faring age of their people. Praxians were largely bipedal species much similar to humans save for their skin being varying shades of crimson and their eyes cold black.

Every few years they would hold a series of games meant to entertain the masses of their realm and dissuade them from thinking about their diminishing lifestyle. At the end of these games was the creme de la crème event known simply as “The Gauntlet” which was the main focus for all who attended.

Comprised of a series of brutal and harrowing challenges, with some even resulting in death should one fail, the reward for passing through “The Gauntlet” and reaching the end alive was the most special prize one could ever dream of; a royal wish granted by the reigning family themselves. A winner could ask for anything should it be within their power, not go against the laws of their realm; nor impact the royal family themselves. That last one was instituted after several winners tried to directly marry into the royal family as their prize.

It had been several long years since “The Gauntlet” had produced a victor and many this year were expecting the same. The bodies quickly began mounting as contestant after contestant failed and died during the trials which only further scared away the previous applicants until only one remained; a lone alien hailing from a species that identified themselves as “Human”.

This seeming paragon proceeded to survive challenge after challenge with nary a scratch on them as they edged ever closer to the end of the deadly encounters. When the final Gorgonuk lay dead, its head caved in from repeated blows from a common rock, the human stood victorious to the cheering throngs who had watched their journey.

A hush fell over the crowd as the royal family descended to the human atop their floating platform and congratulated their victory.

“Name your wish.” The elderly king said.

Without hesitation the human replied “I wish for a place in your honor guard.”

The crowd was silent; perplexed by the insanity of the human’s wish. They could have asked for a fortune so vast it would take three dozen generations to spend, or be given an entire world to rule as a king in their own right, even should they have a darkened heart ask for every first born to swear loyalty to themselves; yet they had instead asked to join the royal family’s personal guard.

No human had ever joined the honor guard as it had been an institutional rule that only Praxians could join. However, this rule was not an official law and as such did not violate the rules of agreement for the wish granting.

“Very well,” the king spoke, “kneel.”

The human dropped to one knee as the king withdrew a slender sword from his cane.

“By the decree of flesh and blood,” the king began as he stabbed the right shoulder of the human and withdrew it dripping with blood, “do I bind you to my family’s service, until the end of time itself. Arise now, and take your rightful place.” The human rose to their feet, blood running from their shoulder wound and gathering as a small puddle at their feet, and nodded thanks to the king as the crowd cheered once more.

The oath had been made and accepted.

 With that climactic ending the games were finished and the realm returned to their day to day lively hoods. The human was inducted into the ranks of the honor guard as was promised and immediately began training.

It was a grueling affair made worse by the general disdain the present honor guard held towards the human. Many had spent their entire lives in service to the royal family and had descended from long family lines whose loyalty had stretched back to the founding of their galactic realm. Yet now here stood a common cur in their eyes, who won their place by sheer luck.

Days of training became weeks, weeks became months, and then finally months became years until finally the human was deemed ready and was given a suit of royal power armor.  Armed with the latest weaponry, armor, and generator systems; the royal power armor turned any individual into a walking tank capable of leveling entire armies by themselves.

Though the human was jubilant at finally donning the armor, times outside the palace were far from pleasant.

The wealth and prosperity of the kingdom had fluctuated greatly and the common citizen now openly questioned the wisdom of their rulers. Some even dared to openly ask if they needed a royal family and if they could not govern themselves better.

Idle tavern talk grew to marches in the streets until one day an angry mob that stretched out to the horizon stood in front of the royal palace and demanded the end of the royal family.

What was worse was that at the head of this violent host stood several royal guards clad in their armor who had defected to the mob’s side. Within the palace the royal family feared for their safety and wept at the notion that this would be the end of their legacy. To their surprise the lone human who had won his place in their guard stepped forward and proclaimed that they alone would handle the crisis and that they had nothing to fear.

Striding outside the palace alone, the human came before the masses and demanded to speak with their former comrades. The gathering slowly parted as the traitor guards stepped forward and faced off with the human.

There were five in total, led by none other than the former leader of the royal guard Dem’va’rok.

“Stand aside human.” Dem proclaimed; their voice booming from the speakers built into their armor. “Your blood is not what we seek this day.”

The human said nothing as they slowly looked across the helms of their once allies.

“Does he speak for you all?” the human asked softly. “You would forsake your oaths of duty to your king?”

One by one the traitors nodded and Dem grinned.

“What is duty compared to needs of our people?” Dem asked.

The human’s hands tightened around their weapons.

“A question you will take to your grave.”

With a swift motion the human lashed out and removed the heads of four of the traitors leaving Dem alone. The clattering of helmets filled with severed heads echoed across the crowd as they watched the purple blood flow from the open neck wounds; the bodies collapsing like puppets whose strings had finally been cut.

Several onlookers from the crowd screamed out in horror and recoiled from the violence. From there it set off a wave of panic that flashed across the mob like wildfire until all of them were scattering across the hills. Dem could hear their screams as they fled in panic, yet his eyes lay focused on the human who stood before him.

Unlike his alien compatriots who had grown lax and slothful with their duties, the human had spent every day training hard to prove their worth and their right to stand amongst them. What had once been a glorious order of wardens and guards of the royal family had become decadent and a mockery of what it had once been.

Dem drew his own sword and prepared to face the human but was surprised when they instead drove their sword into the ground.

“I won’t need that for what comes next.” -----------------------------------

An hour later the lone human returned to the throne room followed by four leaders of the mob.

The royal family watched in horror as each of them carried a severed head of a traitor royal guard with the human carrying the bloody remains of Dem’va’rok’s head. Their gantlets were stained with still fresh blood from where the human had used their bare hands to pull the former master’s head from their body.

“My lord,” the human spoke as they bowed and presented the head of Dem’va’rok “, the fools who cast aside your generosity have been dealt with and shall trouble you no more.”

They motioned to the cowering leaders behind them. “These are some of your subjects that wish to present their grievances to you and seek your wisdom in their resolution.”

Fear compelled all of the former ring leaders to nod their heads rapidly as they held back tears of fear.

“Do not be afraid.” The human counseled them, “For our king is as wise as he is compassionate. He will hear the words of his loyal subjects, but I will suffer none of those who have betrayed such kindness.”

With that the human stepped away and the ring leaders spoke their grievances and to their surprise the king listened to them and did not have them slain on the spot. What had been the day to end a kingdom became the day of a kingdoms evolution into something new.

Not all of the demands were met, but not all were dismissed so easily. New governing bodies were formed under the king to assist the well-being of his citizens while the king remained in complete control. As a result the overall situation of the realm began to slowly lighten and improve as years went by until the loyalty to the royal family was once more shared in every dwelling.

Yet none could say if it was from true love of the king, or from the fear the piercing gaze of the new leader of the honor guard instilled upon all that looked upon them.

[uhbambii]

Soup Days

The lighthouse was quieter than usual, its warmth a stark contrast to the damp chill that had seeped into their bones during their trek through the Hossberg Wetlands. Rook sat bundled on the couch by the aquarium, her cheeks flushed—not from her usual sharp-edged confidence, but from the fever that had crept up on her after hours of trudging through muck and freezing rain. She sniffled miserably, rubbing at her sore throat, and glared half-heartedly at the bowl of soup Lucanis Dellamorte had just placed in front of her.

“I didn’t trek through miles of swamp just to be defeated by a cold,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice gravelly.

Lucanis, standing beside her with arms crossed, raised a sardonic brow. His dark eyes gleamed with humor as he crouched to her level. “Mia cara, it’s not a cold. It’s a warning from the Maker Himself to let me cook for you more often.” He gestured to the bowl. “Italian penicillin. Eat, and you’ll survive to see another day. Maybe even two.”

Rook huffed, her lips twitching into a small smile despite herself. Lucanis was impossible to argue with, especially when his quick wit came wrapped in that rich, sonorous voice. His dark hair fell loose around his face. It softened his sharp features in a way that made Rook’s heart stutter, even in her current, pathetic state.

She picked up the spoon reluctantly and tasted the soup. The warmth flooded her chest immediately, soothing the ache in her throat. Garlic, lemon, and just the right amount of spice.

“It’s good,” she admitted, her tone begrudging.

Lucanis grinned, leaning back on his heels like a smug cat. “Of course it’s good. Amore mio, when have I ever done anything that wasn’t perfect?”

Rook snorted, wincing as the effort aggravated her throat. “Let me count the ways—”

Before she could finish, Lucanis reached out and placed a hand on her forehead, his touch gentle. His fingers were calloused from a life of fighting and command, but now they were soft against her fevered skin. He frowned, the teasing momentarily replaced by a flicker of genuine concern.

“You’re still too warm,” he said quietly. Then his smirk returned, though it was softer this time. “And all this because you couldn’t let me take the lead for once. Really, tesoro, you’ve faced down ogres without so much as a scratch, and here you are, bedridden from a little weather.”

Rook tried to glare, but it lacked any real venom. “If you’re just going to mock me, you can take your soup back.”

“Oh, no, no, no. The soup stays. As does my company.” Lucanis moved to sit beside her, draping an arm over the back of the couch. His warmth was an instant comfort, even more effective than the blanket Rook had wrapped herself in.

Rook shifted, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Sempre,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She sighed, contentment settling over her despite her earlier complaints. The fever and soreness faded into the background as Lucanis started recounting an exaggerated tale of how he once sweet-talked an Orlesian merchant into selling him an entire crate of imported wine for half the price. His voice, rich with humor and charm, was better medicine than anything else.

As the evening stretched on, the lighthouse grew even quieter, the world beyond its walls fading into the hush of the fade. Lucanis’s fingers absently traced soothing patterns along her arm as she began to drift off, her head still nestled against his shoulder.

Just before sleep claimed her, she heard him murmur, so soft it almost seemed like a dream: “Ti amo, mia luce. Rest now.”

—————————————————————————

Okayyy, yall are eating up the Lucanis Fluff!!

same tho

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 6 - Next

"Do you like art exhibitions? It has opened one by my favorite artist."

You mentioned handing a brochure to Curly.

Curly: "Oh, I didn't know you liked art."

He unfolded the brochure to start looking at the details of the exhibition.

"What does that mean?"

Curly: "Ah- nothing, nothing... He's a very reserved artist, huh? 'The man who never shows faces, after years brings his new collection', sounds great."

"I'm surprised he brought another collection, he had been inactive for years," you smiled, "Here are some examples of old and somewhat popular works, what do you think?"

You pointed to some images in a collage that were in the brochure of previous exhibitions.

There was a mix of realism, abstract paintings, and cartoon-like styles.

Curly: "He has... many styles, it's incredible. I would love to go see his works."

"I'm glad to hear that because~ I already have two tickets for their exhibition~"

You showed him the tickets excitedly and handed him his.

In the afternoon, you headed to the exhibition and entered the building. There were many people admiring the paintings; there were all sizes and styles, even the children were entertained by the cartoon-like paintings, surely a great collection.

There was one detail that always caught everyone's attention: in his paintings, he never showed the faces of those he painted, perhaps a way to maintain their anonymity.

Faces covered with plants, with careless strokes, hats, or even covering themselves with hands, veils, or the person being turned away, among other things.

Curly stopped to look at one in particular, which he felt was too personal.

The artwork was called "A Winner Among So Many Losses."

It was a torso without a head, with a background of a starry night, as if it were submerged in space, and four bright stars formed the silhouette of its head.

X: "What happened to those people was horrible. Don't you think? I wonder if anyone understands the meaning of this painting, or if they have already forgotten that tragedy."

An elderly man in a wheelchair had stopped beside him, looking at the painting with a relaxed smile.

X: "People tend to forget events very quickly, it's good that someone frames them so they can be remembered, because that way those lost people will always be present in our minds." 

"Curly! I didn't realize you had stopped," you returned to his side and observed the man next to him.

Soon a woman came running towards you and took the man's chair, scolding him for going off on his own, to which the man just laughed and gently patted the woman's face, making her smile.

They both said goodbye to continue viewing the exhibition on their own, while you noticed how Curly remained staring at the painting in front of him.

Curly: "It's me. A faceless captain, lost, and the only one who will have the memory of his crew. The only captain who didn't sink with his ship and now bears the face of shame."

"Okay, okay, I think you're being too critical over a single painting," you patted his shoulders "Besides, their families will always remember them."

Curly: "Their families... What must they think of me?"

"They must feel pain... Resentment... They must be thinking, 'why did he come back and my daughter, or son, didn't?' Being a survivor is difficult, many will be happy for you, but others... They will only suffer because their loved one was n't the one who survived... As if you were to blame for something just because you're still alive."

You rested your cheek on his shoulder and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, trying to draw his attention away from the painting.

Curly: "...I should... contact them"

"If that makes you feel better... I can help you."

You smiled when he slowly took his gaze away from that painting to walk by your side and continue looking at the other works in the exhibition.

Curly: "I understand why you like this artist so much... He has such detailed works and they evoke a lot of emotions in you."

"I'm glad to have someone who shares that thought! You know? I could never bring my sister here to appreciate these paintings, she always said she didn't have time... And then I stopped insisting."

Curly: "I think I remember... That she used to get angry when she saw ads about these exhibitions. She said she hated that artist because she didn't like that he didn't do faces, and it made her nervous and gave her chills."

"It's just that she is like you were, she only saw the general image, didn't go deeper, never gave it a chance. If she saw something and didn't like it, she refused to see the beauty in it..."

You stopped in front of a painting and sighed.

Although you didn't make any comment about it, you soon continued walking while Curly observed that piece called "Beautiful Smile on a Perfect Day."

It was a bride holding a man's arm, resting her head on his shoulder; the irony of that painting was that the bride wore a veil and no smile could be seen on her face.

He approached and tried to focus his gaze on the bride's face, noticing that the veil was not completely solid; if you looked closely, you could see the bride's face, with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. 

"Curly! You're lagging behind again." 

Before he could see the woman's face in the painting better, he walked away and hurried to join you. 

That woman looked familiar to him...

[magical-girl-coral]

How the Meljay reunion should have gone cause I am angry and bitter.

Jayce breathed in deeply as he moved, his hammer dragging behind him as his leg ached in protest, begging to be put down after everything it went through within the last months. But he couldn't. Not now. There were too many unanswered questions. How did he survive the bomb? Why Viktor didn't. What happened here?

Soft footsteps pulled him out of his questioning, their echoes like a familiar melody in Jayce's ears. A cloaked white figure walked towards him, her silhouette as alluring as he remembers. But it couldn't be. Last he heard, she disappeared, probably kidnapped by zaunites. He stalked closer to her, gripping the handle in case it's another hallucination, another trick, another dream-

The cloaked figure revealed their face, spoke his name, and Jayce broke. He ran into the arms of his beloved, dropping his hammer in the process, and held her until it felt as though they were going to merge into one.

Mel held him just as strongly, refusing to allow either of them to breathe. Jayce let her go gently, slowly putting her down on the ground, checking her for injuries or anything that needed a doctor to look after.

Mel cupped his face gently. "I'm fine. Mayne not truly whole, but not hurt." She gave him a look over, worry clouding her face, slowly backing away to view the full picture. It took all of his strength not to take her back into his arms. "Jayce, what on earth happened to you? You look you've been through the hells and back,"

Jayce opened his mouth, wanting to explain anything, everything, but that annoyed voice at the back of his head held him back.

She invested too much in this dream of yours to listen to reason.

This is her life's work too. She won't give up on it so easily. You didn't either at the start.

You've seen how people have been used and thrown away once they've lost their worth. What stops you from being next?

He clenched his head in pain. Mel was now fully concerned. "Jayce, what is happening with you? Should I call for help?"

"No!" Jayce shouted louder than he wanted. He avoided her gaze. "I'm- I'm alright. I just need- I just-" He took a deep breath, and met her eyes. "We need to destroy the Hexgate for good. It's a curse, and I need all the help I can get. Will you be there by my side?"

Mel's gaze didn't weather. Instead, it became even more powerful than before. She held his hand in his where the rune was carved into his skin.

"I've seen the madness great power can inflict on a soul," she said, glancing sideways to the hammer before returning to him. "You have my word, the Hexgate will be destroyed even if it will be the last thing we'll do."

Jayce laid his forehead gently to hers. God, he missed her warmth. "Thank you, for everything. I won't fail."

Just before either of them could truly relax, a presence that made Jayce's skin crawl has decided to make itself known. He reached towards his weapon just as Mel began to glow.

Both of them aimed towards one of the pillars, their combined effort turning it to smithereens without actually hitting their target.

They stared at the other in shock. They obviously had a lot to talk about. But with the silent agreement of later. They had bigger matters at the moment.

Such as the figure they attacked slowly moving towards them. A porcelain puppet with golden edges but no strings. Small crystals shard embedded in its skull. The energy of being something so completely wrong to exist.

Viktor.

"Allow us a moment of civility, Jayce."

[tayraedoll]

Die with a Smile

Just imagine what it would be like to sing and dance to this song with Alastor.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the song "Die with a Smile".

You are just casually sitting in a chair, reading a book and minding your own business when you hear Alastor singing as he approaches you.

"I- I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye"

He smiles down at you as he extends his hand for you to take. You can't help but smile back at him; ever since you played this song while helping him cook one evening he has been obsessed with it. It was one of the very few modern songs he actually liked.

"And I don't know what it all means,

But since I survived I realized

Wherever you go that's where I'll follow,

Nobody's promised tomorrow"

He helps you off the chair and wraps a hand around you waist, pulling you close to him. He never breaks eye contact with you as he begins gracefully twirling you around. His smile stretches across his face impossibly wider as you giggle.

"So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night,

Like it's the last night

If the world was ending

I'd wanna be next to you"

He gently lifts you off the floor at the hips as he slowly spins in a circle, one leg elegantly extended as the other tucks underneath you. You have one arm around his neck and the other resting loosely at your side.

"If the party was over

And our time in Hell was through

I'd wanna hold you, just for awhile

And die with a smile

If the world was ending

I'd wanna be next to you"

He leans his forehead against yours as he places you back down. Your hands cradle his face as, you too, begin to sing along.

"Ooh lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only one worth fighting for"

As you continue to sing you get lost in each other's gaze. He stares at you with soft eyes, the adoration in his expression makes you tear up a little. This was a look that only you would ever get to see. He will never look at anyone else the way he looks at you- not Charlie, not Mimzy, not even Rosie. His arms are sturdy and his grip unwavering, letting you know you are always secure in his hold. He will NEVER let you go. Even when he spins you out, you always return exactly where you belong- wrapped in the safety of his embrace.

As the song comes to an end his movements slow down, as if he was hesitant for this moment to end. He dips you down low, you head nearly touching the floor, one arm still around your waist as the other cradles the back of your head endearingly. You have one leg wrapped around his hip to hold him closer. He nuzzles his nose against yours as you nearly whisper the finale of the song to each other.

"And die with a smile

If the world was ending,

I'd wanna be next to you."

Alastor shifts his head ever so slightly and presses a gentle yet passionate kiss to your lips. One of your hands cards through his hair as you pull him closer to you.

For being a man who used his words in order to make a living, he certainly had a way of showing you he loved you with his actions instead.

[kathren-is-here]

Meet (Negaverse) Della Duck! Mother of Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck, and twin sister to Donald Duck!

She’s a pilot that went to school for it, she’s skilled, professional, and she even flew for the old adventure group Scrooge had, going around all over the world when she was younger.

She was fully expecting and ready to take on a mother role, knowing her kids would hatch soon, but Scrooge had forgotten some timeline details and had the Board schedule her for a new Rocket test from R&D, she obliged, only seeing it as a quick job. But she gets stuck in a meteor storm, and got stranded on the moon for 10 years.

She’s not reckless but she is bold, daring and proud, and wasn’t able to step back from a job or challenge in time to change her fate. She had put her job first and deeply regrets listening to Scrooge, not thinking it though fully or reasoning with him.

In the moon crash, she’s forced to amputate her leg, thanks to her time in the woodchucks she does this successfully, making herself a robotic leg out of broken ship parts, showing her resourcefulness and strong will.

Della is book smart, or relies on her memory for survival and history facts. She’s fascinated by culture and lost civilizations, making her perfect for Scrooges old adventure group. She’s academically proficient and excelled at her classes, even getting into multiple sports over the years, she has a range of skills and means business.

after her return content and more down below!

Della is more cautious of Scrooge when she comes back, and isn’t fully trusting him after the initial moon incident, eventually she listens but grumbles to herself about it. Due to losing trust in others, she’s developed backup plans and is able to think on her feet when a situation gets heated. She’s also more prone to calling out Scrooge for his inactions. (Eventually she starts making amends with Scrooge, seeing how he’s doing now)

She’s resentful to people who wronged her, but she’s full of love and support for her family more than anything, she’s beloved by others, and is willing to help them when they need it.

Della was determined to get back to earth to see her kids, and tell off Scrooge, no mater how long or how much it took.

When Della took flight into space, Scrooge still had some contact, Scrooge tried to coach her through it but the forces were too much for either of them to handle, cutting off contact for the next 10 years until she came back.

She’s careful, determined, a skilled pilot, resourceful, family oriented, tame and professional, a little too stubborn but she’s not an idiot (but she has a bit of temper)

She felt like she was betrayed, even though she willingly went on the mission.

Dellas flaw is her work ethic, she’s way too focused for her own good, blinding her from taking breaks or making time for family

With losing her trust with Scrooge, she has to gain it back, especially in terms with her family, friends and sons

[nepenthendline]

till death do us part - Hawks (Keigo Takami) x reader

a/n: unconfirmed reader death, gore and blood mentions, hawks wants to marry you, angst angst angst, gn reader, let me know if you want a part 2 where reader survives!!

Hawks and you had been battling a nomu for what felt like hours now - it was a high end, and even you two, a duo of perfect sync and compatibility, were struggling to knock it down. There were other pro-heros in the area focused on rescue and evacuation, but only the two of you were in direct combat.

Things seemed to be taking a turn for the better, however. Even though most of Keigo's feathers were demolished, leaving him to fight with his swords, and you were covered in injuries and small broken bones, its regeneration was wearing thin.

'Almost there, let's go for the head!' Keigo yelled to you over the wailing of the nomu, in which you nodded in return. As if connected, you both moved forward at the same time; your partner was fighting in front of the nomu, working as a distraction, whilst you lept up from behind and plunged your knife into its head. The creature groaned and stumbled, blood pouring out of its brain as you sliced through the flesh. 'You got it,' you heard Keigo yell above the noise, giving you the power to plunge your knife further. The nomu fell to its knees, making you grip onto its shoulders to steady yourself as it collapsed. Now, at a lower level, you could see the relief in Keigo's eyes and the slowing rise and fall of his chest. He began walking closer to assist you as you plunged your knife again to deal a final blow, however, the next few moments flashed before him.

The nomu raised one stub of an arm over its head, growing some sort of sharp extension from it, and aimed towards you. Before you could react, the sharp appendage shot through your abdomen, throwing you a few feet back and released, dropping your limp frame on the ground.

Keigo's eyes were wide, and jaw dropped as he watched his love get pierced by the creature. As soon as he heard the tear of your body, he screamed your name - a gut-wretching, painful scream. He vaulted forward, moving out of pure adrenaline and fear, slicing the remaining head off of the nomu, and watched it crumble to the ground. He stood still for a moment as the world came to a silencing hault expect for the sound of his blood rushing through his body. He dropped his swords and bolted to you.

You lay lifeless on the ground, blood pooling from your stomach onto your hero costume and the earth below you, mixing with the dirt. He reached you in seconds and dropped to his knees by your side. One hand came to cradle your head, the over hovered over the gaping wound, shaking.

'Shit...SHIT,' his whole body trembled as he looked over you, eyes darting around and taking in the horror. They fell onto your face, covered in blood, dirt, and tear stains that had fallen from your half-lidded eyes. His head shot up, frantically looking for someone, or something, to help you. He spotted a person, a hero, not too far away who stood frozen, watching the two of you, with their hand cupping their mouth in terror. 'Get someone! They need help!' His voice was rough and unsteady from the lump in his throat - something so raw and agonising. The hero nodded vigorously, before running off.

Keigo looked back down to you - the blood continued to spill from you, and his hand was holding more weight from your neck than before. His other hand, the one that rested above your wound, flexed open and closed before he spoke. 'Dove? This is going to hurt, but stay with me, ok?' He pleaded, watching you force a slight nod as you looked up at him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the heel of his hand into your wound, putting pressure on the area to slow the bleeding. The hand under your head stroked at your scalp as you whimpered and winced from the pain. 'I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' he murmured like a mantra as he shifted himself so that your head rested in his lap. The, now free, hand came to move your damp hair away from your face and continued to brush through. You locked eyes for a few moments in silence.

'It's gonna be ok, dove, you're gonna be ok,' he forced out, his voice breaking as tears ran down his cheeks. He sniffled before bending down to place a kiss on your cold yet sweat-slick forehead. His chapped lips trembled against your skin, and you felt a teardrop or two roll onto your own cheeks. 'Gotta stay with me, ok? Getting you help, so just gotta stay awake for me, go it?' You weakly nodded again, to which he whispered sweet praises in your ear and gently rocked your head in his lap.

'I-I love you,' you muttered, barely audible. He let out a dry chucke, although it held nothing but grief.

'I love you too, so so much, so keep fighting for me, doing so well,' the corner of your mouth raised slightly at his words, as much as your body would allow, and his grip on you tightened. His torso hunched down closer to you, occasionally brushing his wet nose against yours, or peppering your face with kisses. Your tears were mixed together at this point, you had no idea what was coming from who.

'M'tired,' fell from your lips as your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. Keigo nodded in understanding, bringing his hand from your head to hastily wipe his tears on his torn jacket sleeve.

'I know, baby, gotta stay awake for me, though,' he repeated. His breath hitched when he didn't get a response from you this time, except from your eyelids closing for a few seconds, then opening ever-so-slightly. He needed to do something, think of something to keep you awake. His eyes flitted around as he thought before resting back on you.

'Hey, baby?' He shook your head gently to get your attention, letting out his held breath when your eyes moved to his. 'How about I tell you about something really exciting, yeah? Know you can never sleep when you get excited,' he chuckled as he cried, forcing a smile onto his lips. His tone was something like his usual teasing manner, although he cracks and dips in his voice broke his facade. He felt one of your hands shift, coming to lightly grip onto his trouser leg in response. You also let out a huff of a breath, something adjacent to laughter. He sniffled again and smiled down at you as his thumb stroked your cheek. 'Gonna propose to you soon,' he confessed, a pained grin painting his face. Even despite the agony and blood, he still looked at you with the same adoring eyes as ever.

'Yeah?' You whispered, a tear escaping your eye and rolling onto his hand. He nodded, chuckling again.

'Yeah. Got you the prettiest ring and everything,' he saw something of a sparkle in your drooping eyes, so he continued. 'Gonna plan the most romantic, most cheesy proposal you can imagine,' your smile grew wider as you listened, gripping tighter on his trousers, although you had to take a few deep breathes, as deep as you could, before you could speak again.

'Figured, it's not Keigo if it's not dramatic,' he gasped, feigning shock at your words before nuzzling his nose against your cheek. With his face so close, he could feel that your breathes were getting shallower, and your neck was barely supporting you. His head moved back, glancing over you again.

'Dove?' He probed, but the only response was your grip on him fading.

'Baby?' He tried again, his voice growing more desperate. He could see your eyelids fighting to move - you were still holding on, even if barely.

Whenever danger struck, or things happened that pushed you back, Keigo was always there to hold you together and inject you with positivity and light, even if that meant pushing away his own pain and suffering. He didn't ever want to be one that broke in front of you, but now, at your most broken, he was falling apart. He needed you, he couldn't lose you, not like this.

'Fuck it,' he let out a groan and looked up to the grey sky as if to push past his torment, which startled you with what energy you had left. 'You know what? Fuck the engagement, fuck the planning, let's just get married,' his voice was louder than before, stronger. His gaze returned to you once more, relieved to see the dim curl of your lips. 'As soon as all this is over, let's get married. Would'd'ya like that?' He beamed down at you, an expression almost manic.

'Yeah,' you breathed as your eyes closed.

[bronzemettle]

Billy Batson and Carol Danvers both go by Captain Marvel at one point or another. Does Batson end up deferring to Danvers and going by Shazam instead, or does Danvers take up one of her dozens of old monikers? If Batson goes by Shazam, how does he introduce himself without getting zapped back into Billy form?

Billy's never gone by Shazam in the BronzeRealms. For real, how does that even work? DC does stupid shit sometimes and we all know it.

Okay, with that out of the way let's do a timeline of the name "Captain Marvel" across heroes.

In 1940, the Justice Society of America are fighting off an attempted Kree invasion when they meet and are assisted by a mysterious man who calls himself Captain Marvel, who disappears soon afterwards.

Seeing him in action also seeds thoughts of rebellious inspiration in the mind of a young Kree soldier, who takes on the callsign Mar-Vell when he's promoted to Captain after the failure of his superiors.

In 1967, Mar-Vell goes rogue from the Kree and decides to hide out on earth, seeking out the surviving Justice Society. With their help, she transitions and starts a new identity under the name Wendy Lawson, and debuts shortly later as the superhero Captain Marvel.

In 1977, Lawson retires as Captain Marvel when she accidentally attracts Kree attention to earth again. Carol Danvers takes up the mantle shortly later, after gaining powers herself. At first she isn't comfortably with the legacy and goes by Ms Marvel, but Wendy persists that Carol should be Captain Marvel, so that doesn't last long.

In 1982, Wendy Lawson dies of cancer. The funeral is attended by a majority of the active or retired superheroes at that time.

In 1989, Carol Danvers is forced to flee earth by the rising Augment regimes (Khan Noonien Singh being the most noteworthy) when one of them causes the ecological collapse of multiple Kree star systems and frames her for having caused it, which even she herself believes, as a distraction that will successfully keep her occupied in space for decades to come.

In 2003, Billy Batson is inspired by the comicbooks loosely based on the adventures of Lawson (the same comics also inspire Jean Grey and Kamala Khan) to take on the name Captain Marvel when he gets unrelated superpowers from the wizard Shazam. In following years his adoptive siblings will join him and become known as the Captain Marvel family of heroes in Fawcett City.

In 2006, Billy Batson travels back in time to World War 2 and teams up with the Justice Society of America. He doesn't recognize the pre-transition Mar-Vell as one of the soldiers he fights against. However, working alongside actual soldiers in the Justice Society and seeing what wartime superheroing was like makes him rethink the military moniker "Captain", and afterward he starts going by CM1 instead (taking after his brother going by CM3). The press, despite his protests, will continue to refer to him as Captain Marvel for years to come.

In 2009, Rick Jones briefly goes by Captain Marvel after bonding with Genis-Vell, an unstable clone of the pre-transition soldier Mar-Vell. He retires the same year and encourages Genis to transition as Lawson had. Genis becomes Phyla-Vell and briefly maintains heroics as Captain Marvel, but leaves earth within a few months to try to build a new life and find an identity distant from the homes and legacy of Lawson.

In 2015, Carol Danvers discovers she was framed for space crimes, and why, and returns to earth, only to find the Eugenics War already ended without her back in 1998, with the surviving Augments having fled into space. She joins the New Avengers (this being the aftermath of the Avengers Civil War still).

Monica Rambeau never went by Captain Marvel... at least not in the still-extant timestream. She and multiple other heroes have memories of her serving as Captain Marvel, during the 5 years and 8 months of the aborted timestream in which "The Snap" occured. These five years were "reset" and erased by the Avengers, including Monica herself, in order to bring back the half the universe that Thanos had killed, and Monica chose to not take up the mantle again.

[millysastroblog]

⚡️Solar return chart 2022⚡️

Hello I’m am back with SR Chart observation as I promised from 2022, these are just personal observations and experiences if you haven’t experienced any sorts of things that’s complete fine. These are not facts neither predictions so don’t panic and think that the same situation will manifest for you. Alright ??? 😉

yeah let’s just get into it ! 🫶🏽

⚡️Cancer Rising:

This placement literally made me emotionally expressive and MOODY more than ever. From the start of that year i stayed at home for literally 3- 4 months after I dropped out of school. I very much enjoyed being at home with my family, cooking, cleaning doing domestic stuff . It was very interesting how the people in my environment started being very supportive and protective over my well-being like those of a little child. I definitely expressed my emotions openly : like randomly crying , huge outburst of laughter , or simply smiling a lot. I felt more caring and nurturing towards others . Thought about moving out surfaced a lot. Cancer is a very comforting energy but since it’s ruled by the moon there a lot of drastic unstable changes that could occur in once live.

⚡️Moon , North Node in the 12th house:

This placement brought a profound sense of isolation and introspection. I found myself naturally drawn to solitude, spending hours meditating, practicing yoga, or simply enjoying peaceful moments in nature. It felt like a spiritual awakening—connecting deeply with my intuition and exploring dreams that often felt like messages from a higher source. Meditation and Manifestation became a daily practice. While these moments of stillness were empowering, they also highlighted an inner restlessness and a desire to understand my true purpose. This phase was about healing, embracing the unknown, and surrendering to the flow of life.

⚡️Sun, Neptune, Jupiter in the 10th house:

Career and life path became the central focus during this time. I found myself dreaming bigger, envisioning a life where my efforts and aspirations aligned perfectly. I applied to different companies and got a new good job, I was in my hustling and bag area it was pretty good and productive year. I started thinking about the impact I wanted to have in the world like how I wanted to be perceived and what achievements I wanted to be known for. It was all about refining my goals, building a stronger work ethic, and setting the stage for future success.

⚡️SR Rising in natal 3rd house:

Communication became a major theme since I had went to a lot of interviews, had to reintroduce myself to different people which pushed me out of my comfort zone. Also writing job applications, or reconnecting with siblings, it felt like the universe was nudging me to refine my voice and share my thoughts more clearly. Short-distance travels were frequent, giving me a sense of curiosity.

⚡️Venus, Mars, Pluto in the 8th house:

Now these placements fucked meee upppp and I really mean they fucked my life up and turned it to 180

With Pluto being in my 8th house, the intensity of this year was amplified 10x. The 8th house rules transformation, trauma, money, intimacy, and taboo topics, so this energy hit hard. At the start, I was determined to open a bank and savings account, but it took forever with endless complications. I became obsessed with earning money—whether through my own efforts or others' help. Mars pushed me to focus on loans, investments, and financial security, while Venus amplified my desire for deep, soul-bonding relationships, intimacy, and, let’s be real... a lot of … Pluto, however, had other plans, flipping my world upside down. It made me face every fear and trauma regarding death, losing loved ones, intimacy, change, love, and even illness. I got sick for six months straight, lost friends, stability, and other things. It led to a mild depression, but in true 8th house fashion, I rose stronger. Now, I feel like Wonder Woman nothing and no one can shake me. I survived the storm, and that’s power. 💪🔥

⚡️Saturn in the 9th house:

Soo with this Saturn placement your girl has been hustling for good grades in school to not fail for the year. like since then I hated going to school bc it very stressful, and bad for my well-being , like I was always tense and stressed bc of school, in our normal societal living that is very much expected from us but honestly I just wasn’t having it. And even when i changed to another school it was the same shit like the environment and people were very cold ,strict and depressing I honestly didn’t had a nice time at school but at least I was motivated to study and learn as much as I can but at the end I decided to rather drop out because it was fucking with mental health. Also traveling long as hours for work and school purposes drove me crazy, that’s an area where I have been very disciplined at but It definitely took patience and determination to get there ;) .

⚡️Uranus, Chiron in the 11th house:

Guese who tf lost all their friends suddenly ??? And had a hard time fitting in new social groups because they felt different from everyone else:

🙋🏽‍♀️

(but no for real the energy is 10x intensified bc I have it natally additionaly Saturn is transiting my natal 11th house so yeah 🙁) not only did I loose most of friends but when engaging with different kinds of social groups I felt so uncomfortable and weird, like I had a very detached feeling. I hated to even be surrounded by groups of ppl that don’t hold the same value to mine or I that I can’t engage in intellectual topic of my interest. I was mostly bored asf when in interactions and stoped giving a fuck about trying too fit in and please their expectation and needs, I surely saw also trough the fake persona of a lot of ppl that I encountered and distanced myself even more. But It was that easy being all alone and isolated.

[tuxedoferret]

Arcane finale was good....but

Spoilers for the finale of Arcane season 2, Arc 3 in general.

I'm probably screaming into the void but I wanted to get these thoughts out and see what other people think.

In general, I liked the endings for most of the characters. Their arcs make sense.

Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Mel, Singed, and Viktor's story conclusions, I think were ended beautifully! (And Jinx too but I'll circle back to her in a second). Their endings made sense and were executed very well! I'm content with how their stories end!

And MOST of the deaths make sense... most of them.

Of course most of the minor characters are dead, no surprise since a majority of them we don't even know the NAMES of unless you scour the credits in the VA section.

Ambessa's death was well done, with Mel finally getting her mothers approval through breaking free of her control and finally being able to decide her own life and Caitlyn becoming a true leader.

The only thing that really bothers me, is the deaths of Heimerdinger and Warwick/Vander. Out of all of the champions in the game they're the only non-humanoid ones that made it into the show. They're also the only (game first) champions to actually die and they barely get to do anything. (I am one of the believers that Jinx is alive because there's no fucking way they would kill off one of their chief money makers, also based on evidence in the show).

With Heimerdinger in season 1 we see him serve as an oppositional force against Jayce, and then a mentor working with him. He gets kicked off of the council as a result of his conservative viewpoint. And he reflects on this, he leaves to go help the Zaunites however he can but gets shunned away. Then the goes and helps Ekko with repairing his board and getting home. In season 2 this continues with Heimerdinger helping Ekko get into Jayce's lab and them having the discussion about wild runes before getting sucked up into the anomaly. His last episode is him in the alternate universe with helping Ekko build the Z-Drive to return to his own universe. He puts it in the amplifier, is about to go with Ekko, then runs out and puts a few more things together and just... dies. Thats it for him. MAYBE he'll come back since he's a Yordle but this is new canon and the man had flesh and blood squished out of him. But in general his death feels cheap and unnecessary. What was the point of his death? How did it impact the narrative and what did the story gain from it as a result? Not fucking much really. He's never mentioned again afterwards. I feel like his death had no impact on the story whatsoever. I honestly think it would've been better if he had survived and returned with Ekko to fight in the battle against Noxus and Viktor. I would've liked to see him, either returning to the council or not, atoning for his mistakes by trying to make things better in Zaun with his inventions.

With Vander/Warwick there was so much hype around the theory that Vander would be returning as Warwick. And we were all super excited when that came true! We love it when the narrative rewards us for paying attention! But we get like... 3 episodes with him before he becomes a Viktor automaton. He was also still very much alive even after Singed drained his blood, so Viktor was wrong about how that would kill him. Warwick's role in the end felt very lackluster, and it felt redundant to just, kill him off AGAIN. Maybe I'm just a little mad because I have read up on Warwick and I feel like he had more potential for the narrative than just... make Vi watch her dad die all over again. The fight scene with Warwick could've been replaced with any big evil bruiser really (coughBlitzcrankcough). In general Warwick felt more like a Vi and Jinx accessory than his own potential character. Which kind of sucks. And maybe I'm a bit salty that we didn't get a full wolf Warwick. I think the whole his mind was reset/erased bit could've still been done if the explosion damaged his head and it healed back wrong/if singed replaced his head with one of the wolves' heads to make him fully Warwick in the end.

Isha's death kind of feels... not impactful at all to the story afterwards aside from Jinx's spiral. I would've liked it if her death did more than just that (Like I said, permanently damaging Warwick/Vander would've been nice)

This is about the league of LEGENDS and you'd think that Warwick and Heimerdinger would have bigger roles than just being killed off to further another characters story after barely impacting the narrative.

Also I feel like Sevika being on the council is like... stupid. I think she wasn't handled well at all after episode 4. She just completely disappears after running away with Isha. Why do we never see her hanging with Jinx and Isha again? I would have LOVED to see how Sevika reacted to Vander not being as dead as previously thought, the man she betrayed and ultimately ended up mirroring in the end with her refusing to give up Jinx to Piltover. I think it would've been fun if Sevika was the one to tell Vi when she woke up that Jinx gave herself up, despite all of Sevika's protests, an inversion of what happened with Vi and Vander. Putting Sevika on the council in the end is just kind of weird for her character. I understand it's like, the idea of Zaun finally getting representation on the council, Sevika getting a say in what happens in the undercity. But I feel like that could've just as easily been accomplished with finally letting Zaun have its own independence with Sevika being the "Baron" of Zaun, being the new leader. Because we've seen she's a genuinely good leader! She has a good head on her shoulders. It would've been fun to see how she'd struggle with being the new leader of Zaun, struggling against the Chem Barons if future series ever decided to look into Zaun again.

In general I'm fine with the ending of Arcane. But I feel like the endings could've been written a different way for those 3 characters. I honestly feel like it would've been better if the show ended off where the game picks up, and I don't even play League, I just like the lore from what little I've been reading.