#i think she should do a murder do a kill do an explosion

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

the road to hell is paved with good intentions

[dragoninthestars]

Just read a Star Wars book for the first time and all I've got to say is that when Luke Skywalker blows up a building owned by an oppressive organization without any regard for collateral damage of innocent lives lost he's a "hero" and "the savior of the galaxy" but when Queen Fanry of Pijal does the same thing somehow she's a the bad guy

[vendetta-if]

Hi! Sorry if you've already answered this but what does each RO feel and think about MC path of either Justice or Revenge? (Heir path)

(Love to see what everyone else thinks as well)

I'm just curious to know what Rin truly thinks about MC going for revenge, because I feel like he's a bit reluctant? But also, an heir to a crime family going for justice? (Giving him over to the police after getting enough evidence to convict him) I can't really see him approve that, either.

I'm also curious of what their "preferred" heir MC is, Ruthless or Merciful, admired or feared etc.

Am definitely curious to know how that affects Ash as well. I love my little psycho MC (Definitely some Jinx vibes going on there) but then I get concerned and worried when I see Ash being like "Whoa, so cool! Never seen a body rain blood before, awesome! Whoo, murder! 🥳"

Then i'm like "Wait... No, this is bad Ash, BAD! Blood rain isn't awesome! It's horrifying! It's literally what happens in the APOCALYPSE! That's it, we're going to have a long talk when we get home about Wrong and Right!"

...then later when she gets her birthday present she'll giddily ask Luka if she can try torturing him too 😭

I feel so conflicted when Ash asks MC about what she will do with the killer... Then says what he wants, which is exactly the same, so I can't really tell him not to do the same... But it makes me so concerned every time, and guilty.

I don't want to bring my sweet, beloved firecracker down and even darker path than the one we're already on 😭

Ash and Rin prefer revenge to justice (letting the justice system do what it was supposed to do a long time ago). Probably because of the families and environment that they’re both raised and live in, they believe retaliation against such personal slight should be taken into their own hands.

However, whereas Ash’s revenge might be explosive and impulsive as they chase the quickest way to personally get their hands on the one who wronged them, Rin’s revenge is cold and calculating.

It’s full of reckoning, scheming, and pulling of strings behind the scenes and they’re content to let others to do the dirty work. They don’t really care about seeing the one who wronged them face-to-face and kill them with their own hands like Ash does.

That doesn’t make their revenge less personal though, and dare I say, sometimes, their revenge ends up being more drawn-out and torturous for the poor schmuck. The true definition of “revenge is a dish best served cold”.

And Rin does prefer Ruthless MC in the sense that they both have a more similar mindset. Of course, they’ll still love Merciful MC the same, but being with such kind MC makes them highly protective of them since they don’t want to see them get hurt or taken advantage of.

They’ll do whatever it takes to keep MC safe behind MC’s back, doing the necessary things that Merciful MC might not have the heart to do themself. Same thing with Ash as well, which is why in the Ash/MC/Rin poly, Ash and Rin will actually become really close and trusted confidantes of each other because they—almost all of the time—have the same mindset and overarching goal.

Santana and Skylar, of course, prefer justice and letting the right people dispense due punishment. Although, a more cynical Santana might not be too opposed to MC having revenge as well since they’ve seen firsthand how corrupt and sometimes incompetent the system is; they can’t really blame MC and the Morozovs to want to take matters into their own hands.

And as for your last sentence about Ash… 🥺 They’ll gladly walk with MC down a darker path. They actually feel they are already walking down that path a long time ago, especially since they accepted working as the Family’s enforcer… 😥

[nilsavatar]

All's fair in war and love

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Sarentu

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, sexual tension, P in V, manhandling, fingering, praising, cursing, pet names (tìyawn, yantu, yawne, love, sweetheart), dirty talk (Neteyam has a breeding kink as request by Anon), edging (orgasm denial), soft-dom Neteyam. All characters are AGED-UP. Neteyam is a bit cheesy, but from the way he shows how much he cares for his family, it's in character to be a romantic in a love context.

!DISCLAIMER! Presence of dark and sensitive explicit themes: destruction by explosive devices, massacre, and murder (the protagonist and Neteyam kill soldiers). Please do not read if these topics are not for you.

Summary: The story takes place in one of the final stages of the video game Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora, in one of the most poignant and heartbreaking moments of the plot. Following a heavy earthquake at the Well of Souls that hit the Zeswa hunting party, Sarentu, who will take the name Ateyana here, travels to the site in search of survivors. Finding that many have perished, she decides to find the source of the devastating tremors. Quakes that are not of seismic origin, rather human. With vengeance in her heart, she goes to the military outpost seeking justice. There she will be joined by her lover, Neteyam, and together they will fight for Pandora. But also for themselves.

Little note: This story should have come out months ago - many months ago, way too many. Writing it was a source of great frustration for me. I found myself having a precise idea that I couldn't put into words. The biggest challenge was the action scene that you will find as you read, and, honestly, I don't even think it came out that well. It was the first time for me to deal with this type of narrative. Even if I'm not at all satisfied with the result, it feels right to publish it, for those who have been waiting for it. Anon who requested it, those who answered the poll to choose Sarentu's name, @akari-rosefield who DMed me for updates. This fic is for you.

Word Count: 9k

Masterlist - Request a fic

“Yana!”

Shouts. Shouts and gunshots. The alarm siren.

“Ateyana, we must move!”

A male voice. Nor? The noises mingled with the high-pitched whistle that filled her ears, her eyes blinded by too much light blocking her view. A wall of intermittent red cleared up only by the white of bullets and the few monitors still working.

“Telisi, Yefti-.” “Come!”

Somebody pulled her by the arm. Her legs ran as if pulled by a force she thought lost. The images blurred until they took on the contours of a face she knew. Eyes that were large and bright, but distant as if hiding a secret, now wide with terror.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t be afraid. It’s gonna be like falling into a deep sleep. When you wake up, it will all be over.” “It burns.” “I know, dear, it’ll pass now. Just close your eyes and start counting down from ten. Ten... nine... eight... seven...”

The woman’s voice became distant like a ghost's, her eyelids heavy. The fire coursing through her veins gave way to a sudden cold; a searing chill that numbed her feet, then her legs, and slowly worked its way up her entire body.

“... six... five...”

Surrounded by darkness, all she could hear was the capsule hissing shut, protecting her from everything but silence.

Neteyam remembered his first meeting with Ateyana well. The excitement and commotion that her entrance to Awa’atlu had triggered, on a par with a resurrected spirit — the dawn of a new day. It felt like déjà vu, but in reverse: this time, the Sullys were not on the side of the outsiders falling from the sky, and instead of suspicion, there was a mood of celebration. On the back of her ikran, she wore with ease the hallmarks of the clans that had touched her, each symbolizing a stage in her rebirth; the teachings of their ways. The sea breeze sighed through the soft kinglor silk of her robes, the feathers of the stiff Keme’tire cloak vibrated with every breath, while the colors of the Zewsa shone brightly in the sunlight. Her eyes even deeper and more orange by the sharp contrast with the white, purple, and fuchsia that tinged her skin. So unusual was her appearance, yet harmonious, paired with the banshee that sported the same fanciful pattern. “Look! Look at her face!” “The mark.” The young warrior's gaze followed the whispers around him and settled on the girl's left cheekbone, cut by a crescent moon and four drops just below the eye.

Sarentu. The lost clan.

Neteyam had only heard of them in his grandmother’s stories. The old woman had a sad smile as she talked about the lost storytellers, who were distant cousins of the Omatikaya and descendants from Entu, the first Toruk Makto; diplomatic wanderers who preserved the oral memory of clans’ history, carriers of Eywa wisdom. A beloved People whose terrible fate was known to all Na’vi. Exterminated by the RDA. The same organization that kidnapped their children to raise them as deviant soldiers, alienated from the Great Mother, from all that made them pandorians. Kids who disappeared twenty years ago as a result of the attack on the Tree of Souls and the dismantling of the TAP program.  Or so they thought, for one of them had just dismounted her dragon, its wings still rustling with the sound of powerful beats.

Making her way through the crowd, the plaintive wails of the baby cradled in her arms acted as a herald of the tsahìk's arrival. Loran, younger brother of Ao'nung and Tsireya, born shortly after the RDA attack that nearly killed the Sullys' eldest son, seemed to have absorbed the heartbreak of his People, the turmoil of those dark times, for relentless was the torment that plagued him until he fell asleep.

The girl stepped forward, kneeling as she made a small bow before her forehead. “Oel ngati kameie, Ronal eo lu Metkayina Tsahìk.” The woman smiled, and her calmness seemed to ease the breathlessness of her son, who stared at the visitor with large, tear-filled eyes. “Ateyana te Hìtaì Kataru’ite.”

For a split second, her gaze flickered. It had been so long since she had heard her full name spoken aloud. The mention of her family, specifically her mother, sent a shiver down her spine. With a long history of being used as an experiment, trapped within the confines of sterile concrete walls, she had come to see herself as nothing but a test subject. A lab rat. A cluster of inconsequential cells employed to experiment with a substance and observe its reaction. Or worse, treated like a monkey that was given logic games to assess its intellectual growth. With each class, each shower in disinfectant, because the stench of Na’vi was unbearable, every trace of her natural self slipped away; depersonalized from everything her name stood for to the point of hating it. Ateyana, Spirit of the Dawn. It sounded like a joke, the sense of hope that her name carried. In the RDA compound, scientists educated Sarentu children in math, English, weapon use, and also introduced them to human literature and history. A series of conflicts, wars, colonization, and destruction caused by the idea of taking things simply because one had the power to do so. Throughout those years, she couldn’t ignore the eerie parallels between them and the indigenous communities who had been eradicated in certain areas of Earth. The name of one population in particular had stayed with her, as it bore a striking resemblance to her own. The Yana, a population decimated by the California genocide unleashed by the Gold Rush, ceased to exist in 1916 when the last descendant perished in a Rancheria.

Right from the beginning, she saw that historical reference as an omen of what was to come for her and her people, now down to just five survivors. Whether through brutal erasure or assimilation into other clans, the Sarentu would disappear.  She made a decision that day: to only go by Yana. She abandoned her full name and any other nickname despite her sister’s disapproval, and adopted what everyone now regarded as a diminutive, oblivious to its true status as a legitimate name. 

A name that signified the final chapter of their lives.  Hers and those who shaped her into the resentment and anger-filled young woman she is today. And with almost absolute certainty of all those who would accompany her in her revenge.

“For a long time, we believed in the defeat of your people, but our hope for your return never wavered. The Great Mother could not fail those she had delivered her word to. We have missed you.” Ronal caressed her cheek, her thumb feathering the raised outline of the mark. A moment of weakness that surprised those present, accustomed to the woman’s stoic and fearless nature. “Come, you need rest. You’ve been through a lot, and your eyes tell me there is much to discuss.”

The girl nodded, her heart full of gratitude at the warm welcome, a gesture she hadn’t anticipated (the tsahìk's reputation preceded her). A fleeting warmth that would soon fade.

2174, PANDORA, RESISTANCE HQ, KINGLOR FOREST

“We have located the epicenter of the quakes near the Celebration Arches”. Priya’s finger pointed on the map to the demarcation point between Aranahe and Zeswa territories; just beyond the network of caves that connected the Kinglor Forest to the Upper Plains.

“Ayvitrayä Ramunong (Well of Souls),” Jake’s voice belonged to a hiss, recalling vividly the last time he had admired the magnificence of rock arches growing up from the underground, driven by the incredible magnetic force. A shell that enclosed within it a dense, lush vegetation protecting the Tree of Souls. Two decades earlier, the RDA had destroyed the Omatikaya’s most sacred site. Although the basin was at the foot of the Hallelujah Mountains, right in the Flux Vortex’s heart, their attack wiped out the clan’s memories and, almost, their spirit. Something similar was happening here. He was certain of it. The tremors recorded were too cadenced and regular to result from seismic activity. Humans orchestrated it. 

“Drills.” “That's what we suspect.” “Unobtanium?” “We do not detect a relevant presence of unobtanium in the subsoil that would justify extraction. On the other hand, it is rich in carbon-fossils.” “Oil?” “Let's call it that.” “What's the point of extracting it? We have abandoned fossil energy sources for more than a hundred years.”

We have. At his side, Neytiri clutched the handle of the bow she had not laid since their arrival, her eyes darkened by the battle paint that adorned her face. Sometimes her husband still spoke as if he were one of them. After all, a part of him always would have been. Just look at the military waistcoat he wore like a second skin, the rifle always at hand, despite Eywa's abhorrence of metal weapons. The man spoke before his mate did, “We must act, but we need to be smart.” “Anqa is already on site examining the situation. Yana is with her,” she added, noting the friend's apprehensive look at the mention of one person alone in that dangerous place. “What?” The tone in Neteyam's voice was caustic; a venomous hiss barely vented between clenched teeth, but he did not have time to question the girl's presence in the field any further, as a loud din echoed from the two-way radio on the table.

“Anqa! Anqa, can you hear me? What's going on?” The purple-haired ecologist was terrified. -The RDA… Arches…! Blew up! Zeswa… the signal was disturbed. The hunting party… Everything collapsed. The arches collapsed…- Neteyam snatched the transceiver from her hand to bring it to his mouth with cold timbre and a blank stare. “Where is she?”

No further explanation was necessary for Anqa to understand to whom that male voice, she had come to know all too well, referred. Despite the number of forced interactions with the young Na'vi, despite the operations they had collaborated on side by side, it seemed impossible for her to get used to the chill that ran down her spine whenever she heard him speak with that tone. Especially at times like these. Netayam was frightening when altered, a worthy son of his mother. His lips pulled downward in a thin line, his teeth clenched to the point that his jaw snapped, the tips of his canines showing in tacit menace. His eyes fixed and alert, serpentine, his nostrils flared, and his lungs swelled to a peak and then deflated into severe rumblings in the deepest part of his throat.

-She went looking for survivors.-

Adding nothing more, the young warrior pushed the device against Priya's frail chest, who could barely stand on her own strength, and took wide strides toward his ikran; his parents at his heels. Jake grabbed him by the arm as the boy adjusted the throat-comm around his neck and set it to the frequency matched with his girlfriend's.

“Where you think you’re going?” “To get her.” “You stay here. We’ll go.” The son ignored those words by loading the bow onto the animal’s back. His mother called him back, in tune with his father’s admonition. “I won’t say that again.” “Fine. ‘Cause I won’t sit on my hands while the girl I love is in danger. I’ve never done that with my siblings, and I’m certainly not going to start now.” Jake stepped back as his son pointed his fingers to his own chest, right at the level of the scar that marked him; the everlasting reminder of when he was dying in his arms. “I’m the one who has to keep her safe. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to her.”

“Just as I couldn't live with myself if we lost you.”

Neteyam’s gaze straightened, “I wouldn’t change a thing, even if saving Spider meant giving my life. I am ready to die for those I care about.” “I know, son, that’s what scares me.” He took his face with a palm and brought it close until they were face to face, “Bring her home.” “Yes, sir.” “I expect a mateship ceremony when this whole thing is over.” The boy chuckled, “Yes, sir.”

Yana looked at what was left of the watercourse leading to the heart of the prairie, almost totally dried up except for a few puddles here and there — the water within them of an unnatural greenish hue with purplish reflections and dense consistency. Her vision was blurred by the cloud that had risen after the collapse, and made it difficult for her to breathe; the air tainted by smoke, dust, and pollutants intoxicated her lungs. Around her, the high rock walls were lined with rubble, uprooted trees, and … bodies.

Of winzaw (arrow deer), pa'li and Zeswa.

Most of the hunters had perished crushed by their own mounts, others by boulders or sudden impact with the ground. All were covered in the grayness of ash and death. The only color was the red dye they dyed their hair with, which, mixing with the blood, stained the rocks.

-Tìyawn (love)? Tìyawn, do you read me? “Teyam?” -Thanks, Great Mother, you’re doing okay. Anqa gave us a heads-up about the blast. Where are you at?- “I'm going up the river. There's so much death here. So many killed, so much life…,” her voice died in her throat, ”… destroyed. I'm going up to the drill now. Stop this from happening again.” -No way. Call off the ikran and get back here. Now. We need to regroup. We can't afford recklessness. Do you hear me, Yana? Do not attack!- “I will carry the pain to the ones who caused it.” -Ateyana…!-

Neteyam's inhaled voice died out in the metallic noise of the interference caused by the flow. She was alone. Not that it made any difference. Even though she knew she was hurting him, she would have ignored his intimate but selfish request. She would never have turned back, at the cost of annihilating him in the soul. The Zeswa had welcomed her as a clan member returning from a long, grueling journey. They had raised the festival kites to honor the rebirth of the Lost People; they had taught her their way. She would not abandon them to their grief. The Sarentu were once a peaceful tribe of storytellers and diplomats, they weren't warriors, the Sky People had made them so. Who forced them to take up arms, paint themselves in the colors of war, and swell their chests with battle echoes. If there was one valuable lesson she had learned from human cruelty, it was that there are circumstances in which one must be stained with sin to achieve the goal. Yana was willing to do that, too. She was willing to be abandoned by Eywa and the Na'vi to save Pandora. To give up her integrity and love. To force Neteyam to remain without her. Therefore, even with a grasp gripping her heart, before advancing on the path that had formed in the ruins, besides checking the state of her bow, she counted how many munitions she had in the rifle she carried. As the invaders used to say: all's fair in war and love.

“Fuck!” imprecated Neteyam, pressing the side button to change frequency and connect to Anqa’s throat-comm, his voice sharp. “Anqa, do you copy? I’ve lost signal with Yana. The flux is making the instrumentation crazy.” Static crackled in his ear before Anqa’s voice came through, laced with tension. -Copy. What do you mean, lost signal? Where was she heading?- “She moved into the rubble,” Neteyam said, his frustration barely contained. “Trying to avoid being spotted by soldiers on her way to the drill.”

The woman’s silence spoke more than a thousand words, as heavy as the burden that gripped their hearts. If flux interference was disrupting communication with the Sarentu, it could only mean one thing: she was at the center of it, right in the collapsed area. Then Anqa replied, her tone edged with worry. -Damn, girl. She always does this.-

“I’m not leaving her out there,” he said firmly, his eyes scanning the horizon as he tightened his grip on the banshee's reins. Anqa’s response was swift, resolute. -I’m not suggesting you should. But don’t go in blind, Neteyam. We need you in one piece, too.- “She’s taking out that drill whether we’re ready or not,” the warrior shot back. “You know her—she’ll make the shot even if it kills her.”

A heavy sigh crackled through the comm. -Alright. Listen, head toward the north ridge. The flux is thinner there. I’ll try to guide you remotely with what’s left of the scanners. And, Neteyam?- “Yeah?” -Don’t let her do anything stupid. We need her alive for this fight.- He smirked faintly, though his heart was pounding. “She’s not the only stubborn one here, you know.” -Clearly. Watch your six out there. Out.- The communication fell silent, and Neteyam nudged his mount forward, his gaze narrowing on the jagged horizon.

Flying over the area, he spotted the yellow-and-white-banded Scorpion below him, close to a tall tree growing crooked, almost horizontal, on the top of a hill. A lone stone arch remained intact to shield it. As he imagined, he found the tawtute at the foot of the gigantic tree admiring its leaves turning to fall; the disconsolate expression of someone who had already experienced that same desolation on their skin.

His blood froze when he saw Telisi catch up to her with her typical awkward walk, and rub her muzzle against the woman's cheek as if seeking comfort. Determination burned in his chest as he murmured to himself. “Hold on, love. I’m coming.” With a sharp whistle, his ikran spread its wings, and they dove into the flux-laden skies.

With each step, the dust thickened, and her heart bounced in her chest in rhythm with the increasingly deafening thumps of the drill. Slow and steady, the thuds that sounded by the second seemed to numb her. But even as her feet stumbled over the craggy ground shaken by the vibrations, she did not hint at stopping her progress. Gradually the path became more impassable, where the gorge had filled with giant boulders and uprooted trees, blocking access. She could have scaled what remained of the arches to get an aerial view of the surroundings, but climbing to the top would have meant exposing herself to the aim of snipers and automatic machine guns. Surveillance at that extraction site had to be on high alert, she was certain.

As she advanced, a faint glow hit on her right, warm and clear. Sunlight. A passageway free of disaster. She approached it cautiously. The entrance was just big enough for her to crouch through and gave access to a cave; the ceiling smashed by the earthquake into a natural skylight. Yana hesitated before entering; the air was cleaner but venturing inside a rocky way could be dangerous, even fatal with those continuous tremors running through the underground. A collapsing wall could easily have turned that cave into her grave. But the alternatives were few, and between standing in the mist that prevented her from seeing potential enemies and making her way through the shadows, she chose the one that would give her an advantage. When it comes to Na’vi, the sun is always expected to cast banshee shadows over the heads of their enemies, or the patter of galloping hooves to announce their arrival. It would not occur to anyone to look down, to guard ravines and underground passages to quell any surprise attacks. The People were skilled hunters who never mixed such skills with the art of war. But Yana was not just Na'vi now. Certainly, her DNA was, but a substantial enough part to create ethical contrasts in her person was human.

Penetrating inside the cave, she could ascertain that the main exit had, in fact, collapsed. The only other point of access was the skylight itself, but to reach it she would have to rely on the strength of her arms to climb. With no small effort, she reached the top, and the mammoth, frightening figure of the drill appeared before her, the building structure circling it like a barrier. A stroke of pure luck: as she ascended the passage, she had come right to the heart of the Alpha platform; the auger staring her straight in the face as if to give a defiant welcome.

“Priya? I'm at the drill. Tell me how to tear it down.” -I hear you. Destroying the drill-core will leave that monster useless. It's protected, but cut the control wires, and you should get an opening. Hurry, it's the RDA. Nothing's ever enough.- “Consider it done.” With those words, the tsamsiyu (warrior) took her leave, before turning off the transceiver and penetrated inside the platform, filled with enemies armed to the teeth. But she wasn't afraid. She possessed the skills to accomplish the mission without having to engage in open confrontation. With patience and calculated movements, she would have tampered with that contraption. What could go wrong?

The military base sprawled across the battered terrain like a metallic parasite, its angular structures jutting out from the ground, illuminated by harsh, artificial floodlights. Sarentu advanced through the shadows to make herself invisible, her breathing controlled, every step deliberate. She crouched low behind a jagged fragment of collapsed rock, her body blending with her surroundings. She inhaled deeply, her ears twitching as she listened to the heavy footfalls of a nearby patrol. Her bow was slung across her back, and a quiver of arrows hugged her side, a blade ready in one hand. She slipped between the patrols, weaving through their blind spots, and approached her prey. The monstrous drill, the beating heart of devastation.

The machine seemed alive, a colossus of metal and energy, digging relentlessly. The hum of its turbines vibrated in the air, an almost hypnotic rhythm, but the girl could afford no distractions. The base was heavily guarded; squads of soldiers moved in coordinated patterns, their exosuits clanking softly as they patrolled the perimeter, a mechanical dance of strength and control.

Moving with feline grace, she watched them for several minutes, mapping their movements. Three guards on the raised catwalk, two near the energy core, one stationed at the control room door. The others roamed unpredictably. She’d have to move fast and strike silently. Stealth was the key, and a strategy formed in her mind as she did so, accurate and deadly.

Her chance came when two soldiers paused to speak, turning their backs to her. She darted forward, her feet barely making a sound on the uneven ground. With a lightning gesture, she drew an arrow and stuck it. The string of her bow was stretched in deafening silence. The first shot struck the guard in the throat; the second fell before he could scream. When the third turned too late, her blade flashed, slipping through the crevices of his armor, her palm plugging his mouth before he could react. He collapsed with a muted thud. Yana dragged the bodies into the shadows, methodical despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. No mistakes, no hesitation.

The main control panel was located in a cabin protected by armored walls and a digital keypad lock, where the last soldier was typing distractedly. Taking cover behind a stack of crates, an arrow flew, quiet as the whisper of the wind. The lone guard fell onto the controls, his hand smearing blood on the screen, as the rustle of the drill grew louder. She pushed him aside to access the panel that displayed data incomprehensible to anyone but a skilled technician, but she had no need to decipher it, SID would have taken care of it—a portable interface capable of decoding the security frequencies of enemy forces.

After a few seconds of work, her eyes lit up as the device emitted a soft beep of success, unlocking the door. The cabin was cramped, lit by cool neon lights, and the control panel dominated the room, its screens and switches monitoring every aspect of the drill.

The hanged plans showed how the core was protected by an electronic security grid, making it inaccessible without a specific command. Quickly, she navigated the panel menus, bypassing the access codes with her device. Her experience enabled her to locate the sequence that activated the turbines' maintenance mode, which was necessary to temporarily expose the core for technical interventions.

The next step required rigor. Yana pulled out a small vibration-cutting tool and began to disassemble the panel's side plate. The metal shell was resisting, but with a sharp blow, she managed to remove it, revealing a tangle of wires and circuits. She quickly identified the wiring for the core cooling system, a critical component in keeping the turbines stable. By cutting a single blue wire and replacing it with a connector she modified, she created a controlled short circuit that sent a false overheat signal to the main panel. The lights flashed, and a low alarm went off, prompting the system to automatically open the bulkheads protecting the drill core to allow for a supposed inspection.

Before leaving the cabin, the girl deactivated the hacking device, automatically erasing all traces of her digital intrusion. She remounted the panel plate and verified that everything appeared intact from the outside. Finally, she slipped between the shadows once again.

With the core now exposed, she could see it shone with an unnatural blue-green glow, pulsing like an alien heart.

“Time to finish this,” she murmured, moving briskly to it. She retrieved a bundle of small adhesive charges from her belt, aware that every second lost could be lethal. She carefully placed them in the most vulnerable spots, her hands steady despite the time pressure. The bomb timers were set on a delay long enough to allow her to move away safely. She was just finishing cocking the last one when a cry rang out behind her. “Intruder! By the drill!”

The searchlights all pointed at her, and the camp exploded in chaos. Cursing under her breath, the girl dived behind a support beam as bullets tore through the air, arrows at the ready. She shot one, then another in rapid succession, each finding its mark. She shot down the nearest enemies, but there were too many reinforcements for her to face them alone.

The situation seemed desperate. Her eyes rested one last time on the drill, then her fingers went to the detonator as she murmured a quiet prayer, ready to make a drastic decision. Just as she was about to press the button, a shadow loomed overhead. A high-pitched whistle cut through the air, followed by the shrill screech of an ikran, its wings slicing through the chaos in a bright trail. Neteyam plunged into the fray, the claws of his beast bearing down on a squad of soldiers. He leaped from his back mid-flight, landing next to Yana with a force that made the platform vibrate.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she fired another arrow at an approaching guard. “Saving you,” replied her boyfriend, unsheathing his blade, piercing a soldier who came too close in the chest. Sarentu gave him a look full of sarcasm and defiance. Together, they fought their way back toward the drill side by side, their movements perfectly synchronized even in the crossfire. Time was against them; the charges were set, and the girl had the detonator.

“Now or never!” Neteyam shouted, shoving her behind cover as another wave of bullets ripped through the air. She took a breath, staring at the target. Everything came down to this moment. The explosion was deafening, a column of blinding flash of light rising skyward, devouring the drill. The shockwave knocked them both off their feet, flames and debris raining down around them. Yana felt the heat lap against her skin as Neteyam covered her with his own body.

“It’s not over yet!” he shouted, pulling her to her feet as the ground beneath them broke, reacting violently to the destruction. They sprinted toward the edge of the base. The warrior whistled sharply, and his dragon swooped low, its wings slicing through the smoke. He hauled her onto its back and the animal soared as the base sank into the rubble.

As they ascended, the flux pulsed ominously, a deep, rhythmic thrum that resonated through the air. From the sky, as the ikran carried them away, they watched the flames consume the drill. She turned to him, her breathing still labored. “Thank you,” she said, the word full of emotion and relief, while hugging him. He nodded in return, his gaze fixed on the horizon. That was only the beginning. The battle was not over, but for the moment, the drill was gone.

The ikran landed on a rocky ledge hidden in the tops of the tallest trees, a safe place away from the chaos. The wind, charged with the wild energy of the flow, subsided. Neteyam descended first, his movements stiff and charged with tension. When the young woman set foot on the ground, she found him already distant, his back to her.

“Yawntu?” she called, her voice low, almost hesitant. He turned abruptly, and in his golden eyes shone a storm of emotion. His voice, usually calm and reassuring, was broken by a tremor of restrained anger. “What the heck were you thinking?!” She stopped in place, surprised by the ferocity of the tone. “I-”

“You left on your own, you walked into that damn field,” he interrupted her, taking a step toward her. “You were going to-” He couldn’t even say the phrase—You were going to let yourself blow up—, too painful to even think about. The trembling that still shook him was not just a momentary fear: it was a deep-rooted feeling, born of the overwhelming love he felt for her and the horror of seeing the possibility of a future without her. The scene played out in his head repeatedly, like a vortex of conflicting emotions consuming him. Even knowing she was safe now could not quell.

He felt a surge of panic when he realized she would remain in the base, risking her life to destroy the drill even though the bombs were active.  His mind, usually clear-headed in battle, filled with chaotic images: her face illuminated by flames, her hands reaching toward him as life left her, the emptiness of a world without the sound of her laughter or the warmth of her gaze. Each beat of the ikran’s wings felt like an eternity, and every second that passed was a weight piling on his chest.

“What was that all about, huh?” His chest rose and fell furiously, his breathing quickened as he drew closer to her again, towering over her with his stature. “Why didn’t you wait for backup? You always want to do everything yourself, you trust no one.” A sequence of questions and statements that sounded as if they meant something else entirely. 

You didn’t wait for me. You don’t trust me?

Neteyam fought with himself not to give in to the sense of helplessness, but with each passing moment, the girl’s silence only infuriated his sense that she had consciously chosen to sacrifice herself to destroy the drill. This tormented him, for it meant that she had decided to leave him behind.

“You were ready to die in there! Do you have any idea what that would have meant for me?!” he shouted, and, for a moment, seemed about to burst, but he held back, running a trembling hand through his hair. “I... I can’t lose you, Yana. Not like this.” Those words crashed like waves against a wall, leaving a pain-filled silence. Sarentu stepped forward, her gaze catalyzed on him. “Teyam, listen to me. I had to do it. It was the only way.” “Your life is not an acceptable price!” he replied, his voice louder than he intended. He took a step toward her, his eyes staring at her as if he feared she might disappear. “Not for this war. Not for any war.”She looked at him, surprised by the vehemence of his words. “And anyone else’s life is?” she asked, calm but firm. “If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. You know that.”

There was nobility in her intent, but Neteyam shook his head nonetheless at her disinterested altruism, his breathing still uneven. Her martyrdom might mean nothing to someone else, but to him, it would amount to the nullification of himself.

“I don’t care about someone else. I-I care about you. More than duty allows, more than I wish sometimes. When I saw you, surrounded by the RDA with the detonator in your hand, crouching in front of the ordnance ...” He shook his head again as if to banish the image, his eyes glazed over. “It was as if a part of me was already dead.” Silence descended. He ran a hand over his face, trying to regroup his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, almost a whisper. “When I saw you wouldn’t stop ... I felt my whole world falling apart. You can’t ask me to bear it, Yana. You can’t.”

She looked at him, motionless. His words sank into her heart like knives, but she did not defend herself. Instead, she moved slowly closer until their foreheads almost touched. “You think I wasn’t scared?” she murmured, laying a hand on his chest, where his heart was still beating so fast. “You think I didn’t wonder, every second, if I could come back to you? But I did, Neteyam. I made it. We made it.” Her hands went up to graze his face, her eyes searching his with an intensity that left him breathless. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

The Omatikaya prince felt the knot of anger and terror loosen inside, leaving a void filled only by his love for her. Saying nothing, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, breathing her own breath. His hands moved to encircle her waist, pulling her against him. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I won’t be so reckless next time.”

The young warrior closed his eyes, lowering his head to leave a kiss on her forehead. “There won’t be a next time,” he whispered. “I’m not letting you do that on your own again.” The echo of his words bounced between them, an even stronger bond forged in the fear and love that united them. “I cannot lose you,” he repeated, his voice an almost imperceptible rustle. “I can’t. You’re my everything.”

Yana replied without speaking, laying her hands on top of his, squeezing them with a gentleness that contrasted with the ferocity of their battle. When she finally lifted her face to his, her lips found his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was urgent, desperate, a reminder that they were alive, that they still belonged together.

As they lost themselves in each other, the world around seemed to vanish. There were no more wars, fears, or dangers; there was only them, two souls who had defied fate to find each other once more.

Neteyam broke away from the kiss, his breath short, his face still very close to hers. He looked at her with an intensity that seemed to want to carve that moment in time. “It’s not just fear,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the words cost him immense effort. “It’s that without you ... I’m nothing.”

She shook her head, her hands rising to clutch the fabric of his warrior belt, pulling him toward her. “Don’t say that,” she replied, her eyes shining. “You are strong, more than anyone I know. But if you think it’s any different for me, you’re wrong.” Her voice cracked as she continued. “Every time I fly with you, watch you fight, hear your voice through the wind... it’s like the world makes sense. And the thought of losing you... it would kill me.” Her words slid between them, breaking down all barriers. Neteyam closed his eyes for a moment, giving her time to see the vulnerability he rarely showed. When he opened them again, there was a warmth in them, a promise that did not need to be spoken.

“We will not be lost,” he said, with a conviction that seemed carved in stone. “No matter what, we’ll always find our way back to each other.” Yana smiled, an expression at once sweet and wistful. “Then never let me go.” Neteyam responded by grasping her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the contours of her skin as if he wanted to memorize every detail. “Never,” he promised, before kissing her again, this time with a gentleness that contrasted with the desperation of minutes before. The kiss intensified, fueled by something more than desire. A silent communication, a dialogue of souls seeking each other, recognizing each other. Neteyam’s hands came down along her sides, clutching her as if afraid she might fade away. The girl reacted by wrapping her arms around his neck, letting go completely.

Words became superfluous, replaced by the hushed language of their bodies and their gazes. The adrenaline that had sustained them up to that moment transformed into another energy, warmer, deeper. Recognizing their vulnerability, the go-or-nothing gamble they’d taken, they seized the present as if it were their last. They lay down on the carpet of moss that covered the ledge, the sky above them tinged with the vibrant colors of sunset. The sun’s rays streamed through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on their faces. For a moment, the world seemed to slow down, allowing them to lose themselves completely in each other, without fear, without hesitation.

His hands ran all over her body as if to imbue it with his essence. With each caress, a piece of her clothing slipped away. With each kiss, the ornamental paintings faded. “What should I do with you, huh?” He asked. “Do I need to breed you to generate some reason in you?”  She chuckled, but then said in a serious tone, “I won’t stop fighting even if you impregnate me.” “I know already, geez. That’s why I’m so into you. I still wanna see your tummy swell with my child, though. Still wanna fuck you senseless until my cum fills you whole.” A shiver ran down her spine until her toes curled, and she could already feel a small knot tightening in her lower abdomen. But her stubbornness, combined with a taste for having the upper hand, kept her anchored enough so that she would not get lost in the glee of carnal sensations. So that she would not say something she did not mean, or make promises she would not keep, in the heat of the moment. “It’s not gonna happen until we get the RDA out of here for good.” Neteyam agreed: raising a child in such a volatile, perilous environment was out of the question, “But we can always train for it. ‘Til we’re one forever.” “You mean in front of Eywa? Are you sure? You want to do this with me?” He beamed, in love. “You’re the only one I want this with. Are you up for it? When all this shit is over-” “Yes!” The Omatikaya prince gasped at the sudden answer to a question not quite expressed. “Yes?” “Yes, I will marry you as soon as all this shit is over. For what it’s worth, you are already my mate, with or without tsaheylu.” Their unconventional, colorful declaration of eternal love, though far from romantic, felt perfect for them.

Neteyam resumed kissing her everywhere. Her eyes, the tip of her nose, cheeks, neck, breastbone. Reaching her flat belly, he lingered there for a long time as if something was already sprouting inside. Strong fingers gripped her hips possessively, sinking into them until they left their imprint, while his nose tickled her navel, followed, then, by his tongue. He traced the outline there, then went up to one of her breasts and sucked greedily, his hand massaging it as if he could stimulate something else besides the nipple’s turgidity. As if he expected nourishment. When he was satisfied so, he gave the other tit the same treatment, and Yana had to bite her lip hard to keep from moaning. 

When, at last, the warrior pulled away with a resounding pop, she could sketch out a sly giggle, partly from the ticklish sensation, partly because she knew the source of so much attention. “I love your kinky side.” His face, already flushed from the exertion and impetus that was shaking his insides, turned purple at that joke. This side of him still ashamed him. A side he could not repress. And, to be fair, he didn’t want to erase it either, being linked to the unbreakable connection he had felt with Sarentu from the very first day. The way she held Loran, the way she cradled him, captivated him. The gentleness in her manner, the kindness in her eyes, despite the belligerent times in which they lived, had forged her into resentment and death. Yana exuded a warmth and fragrance that smelled like home. He fell inexorably in love with it and longed to turn the world into a safer place for her. She was his person, he knew it immediately.

She laughed again, her face slightly bent in a canny expression. “It’s cute when you get all bashful.” Stung to the core but refreshed by the challenge, he lifted her legs, spreading them apart just enough to observe how she glistened in the sunset light. A little revenge rattling in his head. “Soaking wet already? Did the raid get you pumped? And you called me kinky.”

With both forearms on either side of her face, one knee crept between her legs to make room for himself, now bent to graze his pelvis, he towered over her in all his majesty.  “You keep getting more and more beautiful,” he declared before moistening a finger and bringing it past the edge of her intimacy. His mouth stifled a sigh that faded into his oral cavity as tapering fingers flew over her inner thigh, caressing the soft skin and slowly growing a pleasant warmth. Attentive to her every slightest change of expression. A soft moan fell from her lips as he rubbed her clit, tracing tight circles, eager to make her tremble under his touch. Her hips moved unwittingly against his.  She sensed him sneering when his finger probed the dewy soil of her womanhood, the ring of muscle already yearning to capture him inside. “I barely touched you.” Provocation to which Yana couldn’t hold back and, embarrassed, she intimated him to shut up. His phalanges slowly slipped between her folds and plunged inside her, caressing the soft walls. She felt him melt into her passion, wet noises filling their ears with each languid lunge of his digits. Sarentu moved in his grip, stammering his name, her heart bursting in her chest as she closed her eyelids. 

“I’m here, sweetheart.” He cuddled her, and she moved closer to his caress, crossing her shins behind his back, her heels wedged into Venus’ dimples, inviting him deeper, harder. “Please don’t stop,” she purred in a moan. The walls sucked him in so deliciously, begging for more, and Neteyam was hardly the type to deprive a woman of her desires. His fingers curled, teasing her most sensitive spot, while his palm rubbed against her agonizing clit, causing an uncontrolled stream of meows. Each more desperate than the last, as they turned into acute wails as she neared orgasm. She gazed at him, her eyes filled with longing, “More,” but his hand retracted, slowing the pace almost to quell the spiral in her stomach, ready to snap. A whimper hovered in the air as he stopped, just a breath away from that wonderful spot that made her toes curl. He stared at her in amusement at the frustration that crippled her delicate facial features, her mouth open at the revelation.

Neteyam was making her pay for it. Whether it was for teasing him just before or for the headshot at the Alpha platform, she couldn’t tell. 

“Neteyam,” she admonished him afflictedly. “Beg.” “Wha—” “Apologize for scaring the hell outta me out there.” “Oh, come on!” she begged him, rolling her hips against his fingers, trying to chase the sublime sensation that was slowly withdrawing from her. “Apologize.” “Sorry, okay? Sorry, sorry, I won’t put myself in danger like that ever again,” she said all in one breath, reduced to a mess of sobs and soft grumbles similar to a cat’s purr. “I need you” The man shook his head, still in her hands, and a shadow fell over his eyes. “Promise me.” Yana snorted in disbelief. But if Neteyam needed to hear her say it, to be reassured, she would.  “I promise,” she sighed, drawing his face to hers and placing light kisses over his eyes, shining with desire but veiled with anguish. He slid to his side, his forehead juxtaposed against the girl’s. Yana drew the contours of his face. The arch of the nonexistent eyebrows, the feline nose, the line of the lips, the cheekbones so sharp they could slice glass. She rubbed the tip of her nose against his, at the affectionate gesture the warrior massaged her shoulders. 

“Roll over your side,” he whispered, and she complied. Once her back matched his torso, his strong arms encircled her, gluing her to him.  “I love you,” he claimed, kissing her shoulder blade. His palm traveled all the way down her body to her shanks, his digits again infiltrating her thighs, still finding traces of arousal. His fingertips collected the liquid and moved on to the stimulating lubrication of her intimacy. She trembled under his skilled hand, babbling his name as his fingers crept further, dancing in rhythm with her thrusting hips. She gasped when she felt a bulge rub against her butt. Then, without warning, his searing erection pushed its way inside her. Her mouth opened wide in a silent cry of pleasure, and her eyes rolled back as she bucked against his firm frame. Her mind clouded with the pulsing need to let the lust wash over her like boiling lava, as her vision turned white and her head grew light. 

She no longer sensed anything around her. Only Neteyam’s thrusts grew deeper and deeper, kissing her cervix at an ever-increasing pace. This would not last much longer. The man behind her knew well. In fact, his tapering fingers took to torturing her clit in concentric motions, as precise and relentless as his cock paced her back and forth, threatening to come out, but never quite.

“T-teyam,” she uttered, earning a quick bite at the base of her neck.“Let go. Almost there” It was like being bewitched by a spell. The knot that plagued her belly melted away, releasing waves of pleasure so intense they blinded her and pinned her to the bed of moss. There, impaled on her one true love dick.  It didn’t take long before the charge with which he poured into her lost its force. Neteyam was close, very close. So close that she didn’t even have time to prepare herself when, with one last, vigorous thrust, he burst free. A grunt rose in the air and an immense heat filled her.

He rested his forehead against her nape as, breathless and with a hint of malice littering his voice, he said, “I got so far down that if we were already mated, I definitely would’ve gotten you pregnant by now.” Yana started laughing in his arms. “You’re obsessed with this stuff, you know that!”He squeezed her tighter, sliding out of her. “How can I not be with a hottie like you?” She turned as far as she could to search into his eyes. Into his beautiful eyes, yellow as the winter sun, soft from exertion and surrounded by the redness of the moment. And he smiled, a full and genuine smile. A smile in love.

They remained hugged under the darkening sky, saying nothing. There was no need. Their hearts spoke more clearly than any words. Neteyam brushed her hair, studying her with a gentleness that contrasted with his usual resolve. “If this is all we have,” he whispered, ”that’s enough for me.” She closed her eyes, a smile that talked of peace and gratitude painted on her lips. “For me, too.” They remained like that, two souls entwined in a world that tried to separate them, but that night failed to do so.

“If this leads to awesome sex, I’m totally down for more trouble!” “Yana!” The sound of their laughter, carefree and light, mingled with the rustling leaves and the gentle breeze, dancing on the wind like a playful melody.

[jinxed-ninjago]

I think the most insane part of Crystalized is the fact that Kai and Jay would've fucking killed each other had Nya not shown up when she did.

Like when you look at that fight, there was intent to either kill or seriously injure from both of them. Kai was aiming his fireballs at Jay and Jay was aiming his lightning at Kai, and neither of them were holding anything back. There was murderous intent from both of them there. Kai caused an explosion bad enough to set off the sprinklers, something explosions from their mechs don't even do. Had Jay not jumped out of the way, he would've either been in the ER or in the Departed Realm. To remind everyone, this fight started basically because Kai didn't like how Jay was coping with losing Nya. Since the first 12 episodes of Crystalized were released, people have been complaining about Kai's grief vs Jay's grief in Crystalized; this fight addresses it. This fight wouldn't have started without Kai being upset, angry even, with how Jay's grief presents. It's consistent throughout the first 3 episodes of Crystalized too; Jay thinks he's the only one who remembers Nya because he's experiencing a psychosis and Kai progressively gets more and more annoyed, culminating in Kai and Jay trying to kill each other in the hangar bay.

Can. Can we talk about this more. Like Jay and Kai have always had some level of conflict between them, but they've never fought with intent to kill each other with the exception of their fight in The Shape of Nya, which was caused by differences in how they were grieving. I. I really don't think we talk about this nearly as much as we should

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid- Chapter 1·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N- Hey everyone! I hope you guys are doing well. This story is a longer series of Lucifer Morningstar x reader where you’re Adam’s third wife. This story will have roughly 10 official chapters, but there will be shorter fillers which will be labelled as [previous chapter number].5. 

I also made a playlist in honour of this fanfiction :D

Navigation

Enjoy! <3

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂ 

As you use your wings to sweep down to the sultry streets of Hell, you frantically look around for any stray troops, for them to tell you everything. Anything. 

“Where is this gods be darned hotel,” You think to yourself, along with other incoherent and unfinished thoughts.

But it all connects back to one hanging thought in the back of your mind.

Heaven is a Lie.

What happened to all that “Killing is bad” and “Murder is sin” bullshit that they preached?

This is a genocide. 

All of these demons, from young to old, didn’t do anything wrong, (well atleast, not in this moment)

Is it that hard for Adam to see? 

He’s been feeding you these utter lies this entire time? This news was a bombshell on you at the meeting when that lovely young girl, Charlie was pitching her idea.

Speaking of bombs, a piercing and explosive sound emits from the other side of the city.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

As you traverse the debris of the crumbling city, you spot two familiar faces amongst the face of fire.

One of which that you despised ever since that meeting.

Lute.

The other had her back faced towards the lieutenant. Her horns protruded from her scalp and her long blonde hair billowing in the breeze, unaware that Lute was about to strike. 

“LUTE, NO!” You put yourself in the face of the Angelic weapon, your wings disarming the troop general to avoid her striking down Charlie.

“Y/N? What in the actual living fuck are you doing here?” 

“I should be the one asking the questions here,” You point an accusing finger into the general’s chest. 

“Where’s Adam? I need to have a serious discussion with him. If you see any other troops, tell them to stand down,” 

“You’re not my bos-”

“I said. Stand. The. Fuck. Down. NOW!” You stare Lute down, and she glares at you back. 

She doesn’t say anything, but you could see her biting her tongue.

You turn to Charlie.

“Charlie, come on, we gotta go!”

“But, I- I don’t understand, why are you he-”

“Just trust me on this one okay? Go and make sure no one is in imminent danger. I will handle my husband myself,”

The Princess looks up at you, eyes flooded with admiration, trust, and hope as you soar back into action.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

You swoop in and out of  shattered buildings in fruitless attempts to find Adam amidst the screams and battle cries of both Angels and Demons.

“Adam? ADAM?!” You screech into the crimson sultry sky. 

Another explosive pierces through the sky from not far where you were barely a minute ago.

“Ugh, Lute I swear,” You mutter under your breath and your attention is quickly turned to two shadows attacking each other. You look overhead and see two figures; one of them is adorned with a priest’s garments (obviously, Adam), and the other… well…

Does not have a definable shape whatsoever. 

One moment, it has taken the form of a bird, and the next it has the figure of a snake.

One thing never changed though, a sporting white top hat stayed gracefully on his head in each form.

This ever changing specimen seems to be teasing your partner. 

“Adam? Haven’t seen ya since Eden,” He maneuvered between all of Adam’s punches.

“Gotta say, it really seems like you’ve let yourself go,”

Adam scoffs. 

“You, Lucifer, judging me? You’re the most hated being in all of gods be damned creation!”

Ah, that makes much more sense now.

The shape-shifting demon, finally setting on a figure, with a smirk, almost nonchalant expression on his face.

Dodging the First Man’s bolts of angelic power, Lucifer still doesn’t relent with the tomfoolery.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer,” He places his index and middle gloved digits between his lips and drags them downwards, his snake tongue between them.

Ooof, that’s gotta hurt.

Well it definitely did. On Lucifer’s end that is for sure. One of Adam’s blows finally managed to hit him, knocking him backwards, and inadvertently knocking you out of your trance.

Fuck, you were supposed to be stopping this.

“ADAM!” Your husband turns to face you, looking from the ground, dumbfounded.

“Y/n?! What the actual fuck are you doing down here?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?!” You draw in a breath, irritated.

Just get to the point.

“Tell your little army to stop. Playtime’s over,”

Adam descends down to you, with disagreement written all over his face.

“Nah,” He smirks.

“What the FUCK do you mean ‘Nah?’ What are you, 10?” 

“Yeah, 10 inches deep in you,” 

Your face distorts into a one of disdain. Marrying is probably one of the worst decisions you made.

“You don’t need to make this any harder than it needs to be,” Then it clicked. An utterly vile, but devious idea struck your mind.

“Dear Adam,” you hum, layering on the most seductive voice you can. Both Adam and Lucifer look at you, both confused at your quick change of tone.

Well this is going to be the most embarrassing 30 seconds of your life.

Alas, you carry yourself with a more fluid demeanor, as his eyes follow you. Though as stupid as he is, he isn’t going to fall for your tricks that easily.

You snuggle up to him, your hand gently caressing his upper thigh, reaching right where the source of all manhood was. Stroking not only his dick, but his ego as well, which you were really going for.

You whisper in his ear. 

“Come back home darling~ you need some time to rest, hm?” You let your fingers circle around his tip. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while now~”

He smirks. Bingo. 

“Fine, but I’ll be waiting for you at home, love,” He says with a wild grin.

“Lovely,” you say through smiling teeth.

Though behind that smile, there is absolutely nothing worthy of mentioning.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Well, I sincerely apologise for my husband’s behaviour. Honestly, I would have stopped him sooner if I found out,” You bow to the group of demons.

Utter despair is written on the entire group’s faces. 

“What’s the matter? I know your hotel has been blown to bits, but at least everyone here is safe,” your tone is uncertain.

“Right?”

Charlie is the first to pipe up to speak.

“Sir, Pentious- he-,” Her voice cracks.

“Oh honey,” you turn to try and comfort her with your wings, though abruptly interrupted by a threatening cough from Lucifer, who was behind you.

You want to comfort the Princess of Hell, but you decide against it and turn to face the group. 

“I just want to say, before leaving, that I am on your side. I know Heaven is the real enemy and I will try to aid in any possible way, though right now I have to be going,” You look at each demon in turn, Lucifer for last, as he gives you a once over, as though you’ve intrigued him in some way.

“Well, erh, farewell. For now?” You give Charlie a tentative squeeze on the arm, and give Vaggie an acknowledging nod, which was returned.

As you spread your wings and soar back to heaven, you come to the realisation of what you’re gonna have to do when you get home.

Or rather, who…

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 1,229

[everypigeondeserveslove]

I think Liliana's "Did she know?" wasn't about her, it was, "Did Imogen know that bombing me would also kill these children?"

Well, I just don't think that.

But on the theory of Lilianas being upset about children having died and questioning Imogen's involvement in it, I have a few thoughts

The idea that children were actively target and/or murdered is very presumptive of the fandom. It feels like someone whispered this theory into the fandom wind and now it's in my inbox.

If it were about the children, I still think she a hypocrite. In fact I'd say she's a even bigger hypocrite in that scenario because why the fuck where there children there to begin with. Liliana who was going around Imogen's dreams telling her to run, was also brining children into this cursed environment. The Ruby Vanguard is just not a place for a children. Hot take the moon should be childfree, not every place should accommodate children.

Also on the topic of children being there, they are child soldiers. Liliana is not a running a orphanage on the moon, she is a GENERAL. She is quite literally a general of an occupying force, the general with the most influence over Ludinus, who is being actively targeted by a native rebel group. She is actively training these kids to aid the Ruby Vanguard's cause. And once again, she is doing all of this while actively telling Imogen to not come to the moon. I am of the belief that the general who is recruiting child soldiers should shoulder most, if not all, responsibility for the harm that befalls those children.

Now I don't have access to rewatch the episode right now but I don't think the explosion came from Rashinna's group. The way it was described, being all pink and stuff, I presumed the explosion was a result of Liliana reacting to the assassination attempt (assassination attempts notoriously stressful for all parties involved). All we know of the rebel group is that they had some devices that were intended to hinder Lilianas powers and I don't think they said anything about them exploding.

And another thing.... I think this episode ended on a cliff hanger and people are doing olympic level gymnastics to justify anything that could reflect badly on Liliana.

[arliedraws]

Go on about Sirius and Benjy I am listening

Well, I went down a Benjy Fenwick hc rabbithole and created a backstory, so thank you for that

Benjy Fenwick comes from a working class seaside town in North Yorkshire. His father is a mechanic and his mother works part time as a cashier. Benjy’s the oldest of five children—he and his youngest brother (born when Benjy is about twelve) are the only siblings with magic. But he almost didn’t go to Hogwarts because he could hardly afford any of his books or materials, but he worked his little eleven-year-old butt off to make extra money. A natural salesman, he finds scraps to sell to kids he knows, gambles, scams adults until he gets the money he needs.

He loves his parents, particularly his mum. He feels incredibly guilty to be leaving his family behind, convinced that he needs to take care of them, but his parents insist that he goes. When Benjy gets to school, however, it’s clear that he is Poor. The first person to point this out is Bellatrix Black, a particularly nasty Slytherin girl in his year who comes from a very old pureblood family.

But Benjy is the most shameless, charming, devil-may-care sort of boy. He’s decent at school, but doesn’t care about doing well—he just cares about doing what’s right. He’s a jock type without possessing a shred of interest in the jock activities—he doesn’t give a damn about Quidditch but gets bored sitting still, but he’ll fly a broom to see how fast it goes. Too clever for his own good—could talk his way out of anything. He doesn’t need to lie—he just tells the truth so plainly that you can’t help appreciating his candor.

All of this infuriates Bellatrix Black, and she’s determined to make this little Ravenclaw as miserable as possible by trying to turn people against him. But Benjy is a really difficult person to hate. He’s the sort of kid who, if he doesn’t get a spell correct, is the first to laugh at his mistake. He asks the “dumb” questions in class—the ones that people are too embarrassed to admit they don’t know the answer to—with a shit-eating grin. He’s the first to protest if a professor gives them an extra long essay or a pop quiz and give the most convincing argument why the teacher should spare them—and sometimes, he’s even successful.

He gets a few O.W.L.s and a couple of N.E.W.T.s but not enough for a job in the Ministry. He never really wanted to do bureaucratic shit anyway. When he finishes school, he goes back home to work with his father as a mechanic. His family has always been his first priority, after all. And he’s pretty happy! He’s probably gay and he has younger siblings who are happily married and having kids, so he feels no pressure to “settle down” and marry some girl.

Anyway, Bellatrix Black’s old rivalry with Benjy never faded, and his family is savagely murdered in one of the earliest massacres of the war. He was supposed to be killed too, but he happened to be elsewhere that night. Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick are murdered, as well as two of his siblings, their spouses, and their children. Benjy goes feral when the Ministry do very little to investigate. He decides to hunt down the perpetrators himself but accidentally ends up sabotaging an Order of the Phoenix mission led by Alastor Moody.

Dumbledore asks Benjy to join the Order, and soon, Benjy becomes a key player in the war. He’s an excellent duelist, he can make muggle explosives that evade magical detection, he hasn’t got a lot left to lose, and most importantly, he has to make the world a better place for his little brother who’s still at school.

Benjy has been with the Order for five years by 1978. He’s still cheeky but a little jaded, battle-hardened, and a bit wary of the newest recruits who are too fresh out of Hogwarts. What is Dumbledore thinking bringing on these kids? And one of them is Bellatrix Black’s cousin.

This Sirius kid is charming and reminds Benjy a bit of himself when he was that age, but Benjy is also a bit suspicious of the pureblood heir. He hides his distrust, though Sirius can sense it. When a mission goes wrong, Sirius risks his own life to save his friends and finally earns Benjy’s respect. Others in the Order still don’t entirely trust Sirius because of his family, but Benjy sees something in him and takes Sirius under his wing as Sirius’s friends become more and more distant while the war pulls them apart.

Benjy spends more time with Sirius who constantly drops in unexpectedly at his house in Yorkshire. He’s worried about Sirius who begins behaving recklessly as James becomes more entangled with Lily. Benjy has to pull him back, insisting that he’s needlessly putting himself in danger.

When Sirius is furious that James and Lily are planning to wed, Benjy initially doesn’t see the problem—then he realizes that Sirius is in love with James. Benjy attempts to comfort him, but he discovers, to his surprise, that perhaps he’s always wanted to comfort Sirius. But Sirius is too young for him and in love with someone else…though he can’t deny he wants this kid very, very badly.

Meanwhile, Sirius desires approval from someone he respects, and Benjy has always praised Sirius in exactly the way Sirius likes—sarcastic remarks and a pinch of his cheek, winks, exasperated smiles. He likes how Benjy throws his arm around his shoulders like they’re mates; he likes that Benjy treats him like an adult when they’re on missions. They drink together, share the same kind of humor, etc. Benjy even brings Sirius to work in the auto body repair shop, etc. It’s hard to resist the older wizard—and it doesn’t help that Benjy is a fit, working class hunk.

Neither is sure who made the first move, only that Sirius came directly to Benjy’s house after James proposed to Lily. Benjy lets Sirius rage about it until Sirius, exhausted, settles down next to Benjy on the sofa, and Benjy just sort of…strokes his hair. And a lightbulb turns on for both of them.

From then on, when Sirius isn’t with his friends, he’s with Benjy. He doesn’t tell anyone about his relationship with Benjy (who warns that if Moody finds out, they won’t be able to partner up anymore). As they become more involved, Sirius can’t always explain where he’s been which looks…suspicious to people.

Anyway, if this were a fic, I’d probably add the plot of Bellatrix finding out about Benjy fucking her most eligible bachelor cousin, reigniting her old hatred of him.

Yada yada, Benjy dies to save Sirius—and no one alive knows they were ever together.

[magnoliasandarson]

hoax

Tim was doing his absolute damnedest to project calmness, but he was losing his mind. Two feet away, munching on some cheesy fries, was the Red Hood—the prodigal son, the dead golden boy, his childhood hero, his Robin. The insane man who once beat him half to death, now the guy who occasionally dropped by the cave with a frankly worrying number of bullet holes. 

He’d been patrolling for an hour or so when he noticed the lack of gunshots, screams, explosions, etc., and tracked Hood to the gargoyle Dick took him to once when he was feeling sentimental. It was strange finding him without his signature explosive bucket on, with a bag of Batburger in his lap.

Tim didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to say something. Jason apologized for his actions weeks ago and explained that the pit had taken no dead Robins and turned it into all Robins must die, but there was still a weight between them. A clear line that said do not cross; luckily enough, Tim lived to cross those lines, “Takin’ a day off from murder and mayhem?”

Jason twisted his head to look over, his scowl somehow threatening, even with a fry hanging out of his mouth. He finished chewing, looking menacing the whole time, “Fucks it to ya, bird boy?”

Tim plopped down on the ledge; if Jason was going to shoot him, he would’ve already. He stared out at Gotham, at the empty streets and windows glowing with warmth and light. For once, the city was quiet, “Just making conversation, Hood.”

“What made you think I wanted to talk?” Jason’s tone was harsh, but it was about a five on the Jason-rage-meter, and Tim didn’t get fidgety till a seven. 

Tim kicked his feet out, idly drumming his fingers on the cement ledge, “Maybe I wanted to talk.” And in a weird way, it was true. This was Jason freakin’ Todd; the boy wonder that made Batman laugh. He oddly wanted to know everything. 

Jason sighed like he was accosted by young, costumed teens all the time, and, to be fair, he was. Stephanie had taken to showing up at his apartment at odd hours with waffles, and she had only been shot at twice, “Fine, traffic light. Whatcha wanna talk about.”

“Y’know, you wore the suit, too. ‘Least mine has pants.” Tim spoke, then immediately hunched away. Robin was a sore spot for Jason- Tim was stupid to bring it up. 

For some reason, Jason didn’t immediately pull a gun; he just cocked his head and laughed quietly. Tim straightened back up and tried to muster up a glare, but that just made Jason’s little laughs louder, “Ooh- baby bird’s got jokes,” he rolled his shoulders and offered a thing of fries from the bag, “want some fries, Tiny?”

Tim groaned; why did everyone make short jokes about him? He snatched the fries sharply in protest, “You were short too-”

“Yeah, then I took a dip in poison snot,” Jason cut him off, “Ya wanna do that too, short stack?”

Tim immediately jammed some fries in his mouth- he was incurably dumb. He’d managed to bring up Robin and the Lazarus Pit with Jason. He should hang up the cape, “You got any advice? As a former short king?” Honestly, he wished Jason would just shoot him now. There was something wrong with his brain on a fundamental level. He’d been hanging out with Bart and Kon way too much.

Jason tilted his head like he was buffering and inhaled deeply through his nose like he was trying to calm himself through sheer force of will, “Whatcha wanna know?”

Tim chewed his mouthful of potato slowly; he hadn’t thought this far ahead. What did he want to know from Jason? He could ask about crime-lording, but Jason would probably snitch to Dick, and then Bruce would lecture him for at least an hour. Oddly enough, there was only one safe topic he could ask about, and it would still likely result in him leaving with lead in his body that was not there before, “You got any, uhm, Robin-ly advice?” Lightning should strike him down.

Jason didn’t kill him, which was a plus; just lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, which was objectively hilarious, but Tim would die if he laughed, so he just ate another fry, “Robin was a different kid,” he blew out smoke rings like the cool guys in movies, and if Tim wasn’t acutely afraid of lung cancer, he’d be tempted to try, “Dickwing use’ta say, “Robin is magic, you have to be brave for the magic to work.” I used to believe that shit.”

“You don’t anymore?”

Another cool ring of cigarette smoke floated out through the sky, “I stopped believin’ when I dug my way outta my grave.”

Noted. Tim cleared his throat; this was not a conversation he was equipped for, “Oh.”

Jason snorted, “Yeah- oh,” he took another deep drag of his cigarette, making Tim’s chest twinge, “The thing is- Robin will make you believe you can be- make you think you can be a better person.”

“Then why aren’t you better?” The words left his mouth without Tim’s consent, and his whole body tensed to jump, his fingers finding his grapple gun at his waist. 

Jason gave a wry smile and stubbed his spent cigarette on the gargoyle to his right, “Because Robin isn’t magic.”

[goldenheart-supremacy]

So I know Ambrosius not believing Ballister several times about Nimona is crucial to the overall plot...

But imagine the possibilities if Ambrosius DID switch sides sooner...

This is gonna be a long one...

Like, as they were crashing and breaking out of the institute Ambrosius ended up being in the way, slammed into, then hauled along for the ride...

Nimona lands, like she did. Ballister slides in lamely next to her, like he did.

"Something, something, something... We win." *Cue explosions* "Metal."

Ballister comes to for a moment, dazedly looking around. Instead of a rock knocking him unconscious though, it's Ambrosius landing on him. Remember, he's wearing armor. Armors are hard and with Ambrosius's added body weight, it's heavy.

Nimona's blinking in surprise and like "Oh. So, now he's here too... Now, should I kill him or... Ugh, right, he's the boss. Okay. Great, now I gotta drag them both."

The scene with Ballister coming to plays out pretty much the same way. Finally, when Ballister relents and goes with the shark handshake, Nimona added...

"So, should we kill your Nemesis or do we use him like some kind of hostage?"

"My Nemesis... Him... What? Who? Wait, hostage?!"

Nimona revealed a tied up Ambrosius and still unconscious at the other side of the room. Ballister freaks out for a moment because first, is he dead?!

"I mean, he could be? Just say the word, boss."

"NO! That's a real, BIG NO!"

Of course their arguing and Ballister's yelling wakes Ambrosius up and he muffled screaming, through a gag, alerted Ballister that's he's conscious now. Also, Ballister blushing because he remembers some of their bed room activities and Nimona could kinda tell and kinda smacks Ballister for it.

"Ew, even I can tell what you're thinking. Is this really the time?"

Ballister glares at her before going about trying to calm Ambrosius down.

Of course, Ambrosius starts with the freaking out, then the accusations, even while Ballister's trying to explain things, Ambrosius is still having a hard time believing him cause he literally saw the Queen murdered in front of him but of course, the Director isn't here to manipulate him.

So, Ballister eventually manages to reason with him with a "You know me, you know I love her like a mother. You know I LOVE YOU, and I hope... You still love me? Even if you didn't, you know me enough and you know I'm not a murderer." and Ballister hits him with the big ol' eyes and Ambrosius is blushing and staring at him speechless because GREAT GREAT GRANDMOTHER Ambrosius misses those eyes, and basically, every inch of Ballister. AND OF FUCKING COURSE he still LOVED BALLISTER.

Meanwhile, Nimona is just watching them while eating tacos, and her expressions is clearly one that translate to "I know what you are, I know what you are. Homosexual. Gay. Gay. Omg, there's a rainbow here without the rain and sunshine..." Then she notes Ambrosius armor shining like the sun even while indoors and how Ballister always looks like wants to cry, so rain. "Okay, never mind."

Finally, Ambrosius goes "Okay, sure, let's do... Whatever it is you wanna do."

So, a team of trio is unofficially, officially formed and Nimona is already aware of how much of a third wheel she's gonna be.

I got more. Might make a part 2 if anyone's interested lmao.

[edit] Part 2

[fumifooms]

Hien x unnamed canary aka Scar

Them: "Can’t stand this bitch" Also them: stand unnecessarily close to each other even after eveything went to shit

First time I ship an unnamed character but some people on twitter are jumping onto it too so!! Flock to me brethren. Hienbeni is my bread and butter you guys know this but it’s all about Beni to me franky, Hien is a foil in that for me. But Hien really shines in this dynamic imo… Hien’s all about getting stuff done so then, putting her with an obstacle, a challenge and a potential ally all at once… Someone who matches her intensity and might…….

Pitting professional confident rule-bound Hien against a fiery canary criminal would be interesting and ohh I am looking. Professional assassin who grew up with rigid training in a noble household, has never died ‘til a week ago and doesn’t have so much as a scar on her x slums girl who’s toughened it up and has the marks to prove it. She’s lived through some shit and most importantly she’s survived. Someone who overcomes and doesn’t let a thing keep her down for long. No nonsense squad leader who can take a laugh but is here for a job x prisoner here for a job against her will who likes to have a laugh but ready to throw down.

Also they have a matchy thing going on with how one has a scar going over her left eye and the other has dot tattoos under her right eye…

We don’t see Scar in flashbacks to Utaya or Mithrun’s rescue and Kui is big on continuity in background characters, but she was around by the time Rin was taken in a decade ago at the least. Erique is her warden. She has tattoos that do seem to have a magical purpose, but we don’t know what her magic is. [Edit: -hangs my head down- ok so looking closer it does seem like the "scar" is another tattoo… It’s ok I can work with this, not editing the rest of this tho. Even more matchy bc they are tattooed forever, marked by their line of work!!] I like to think she’s relatively new to the canaries because of this. The canaries are said to be understaffed and Misyl for example was recruited despite not having committed major crimes. Indeed Misyl’s "fraudl spread knowledge of ancient magic" is nothing next to Scar’s crimes, but it’s always possible crimes of the prisoners are exaggerated is what I’m saying. Arrest on false charges or overstate the crimes to justify sending to the canaries etc etc. Stuff that could be played with. I do think the murder adds something to hienbeni tho. It’s left ambiguous what the ninja girls’ past jobs have been but Hien is specialized in explosives and is trained to infiltrate places stealthily and fight, so! "Who was your first kill, why did you do it and was it worth it" girls night playing 20 questions.

There’s truly nothing on her so like. Have this comp. I’ll add panels if I notice her in any other shot.

Something something "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer". Something something respect growing from acknowledging each other’s abilities. Something something feeling the competency flowing from each other and "If shit goes down I want her on my side" and from a glance telepathically communicating "Ok let’s ally?" "Ok let’s ally" bc something in them already knows they’ll make a duo that gets shit done. Also Scar mocks Hien and Hien taunts Scar and they have a charged homoerotic competitive thing going on of impressing each other. Hien laughs about Scar’s crouched battle stance and promises to teach her a thing or two in sparring but then Scar sweeps the legs and whoops yuri wrestling

Girls I think the biggest threat your intimidation tactic is giving off is a kiss. Girls I think you should remember there is a world around you two and things are happening

[pygmi-says-hi]

tips on enemies to lovers? two types the fun enemies to lovers and 'enemies' to lovers where they kill each other

my favorite bitch in town oh i love this.

let's kill this dead

haha like the enemies to lovers get it get it. teehee.

'hate sex' enemies to lovers vs 'fuck that's a knife' enemies to lovers

different vibes, y'all! I covered a lot of this in my romantic tension post here but I am happy to elaborate with specific examples.

For the more intense like i'm-gonna-murder-you enemies to lovers, there has to be a Big Fat Reason. Like, the whole family rivals or best friend's ex kinda deal isn't gonna cut it. I mean there needs to be a huuuggge antagonizing point to validate this hatred.

Pure hatred for another person is insanely layered. There are so many avenues you can take with this - use as many as you can (or that make sense). A common reason for enemies to lovers to feel shallow or boring is when the tension isn't very tense. When you want as shocking and compelling a transformation as this, you really need to work the tension.

Also don't rush it. If you put a lot of effort into the binding tension and frustration and then blow it because you were tired of waiting....like, what are you even doing. THE WAITING DOESN'T HAVE TO BE BORING!! it can be interesting too!!

push and pull. give and take. make a little progress, then step back. more progress, another step back. It's a much more realistic process for two reluctant lovers than pure hatred, one flirtatious conversation and then explosive fucking for ten pages. like, yay you just ended the story ig. woohoo.

think about the process!!

'hate sex' enemies to lovers

what I mean by this is the stakes are comparably low, and it's more of a repressed-feelings-sassy-banter-flirting kind of enemies. not like your head on my wall enemies. still enjoyable! and doesn't always have to be the 'shallow' trope.

The goal I have in mind is to make the readers frustrated. The obstacle is probably easily overcome, but because of the emotional constipation of the characters, they keep getting stuck. The readers should be tearing their hair out, begging for them to make up.

This is a really impactful opportunity for some emotional turmoil. Emotional turmoil is all internal, so it's up to the character to overcome it. If Emma is fighting her attraction for Jesse because she's struggling with her sense of pride and self-worth, that's a frustratingly relatable problem that really draws the readers in.

something like 'oh they want to fuck but they won't because they just keep arguing' is boring as fuck. Saltine Plot. nothing should ever be 'just because.' there needs to be something that ties the characters to the problem.

overall

enemies to lovers is a golden trope for a reason. it examines two very visceral emotions - hate and lust. both of those emotions have a lot of potential that aren't just banter and hate sex. seriously, check out my main post for this, it'll help!

xox

[semi-sketchy]

Okay I 100% legally watched Sonic 3.

6/10, overhyped.

I think I enjoyed the second movie more actually, but let me walk through this.

As a brief summary, basically Gerald was imprisoned for 50 years and designed the Eclipse Cannon (it's just a flying saucer laser) in return for his freedom. GUN built it, but it needs two keys to activate. So it's kinda a race to see who can get both keys and either destroy the world or save it. Gerald was also the one who hacked into the system and disabled Shadow's stasis as well as stole Eggman's tech to lure him to the research facility for a team-up. That's the basis of the plot.

Firstly, the beginning is...a million miles a minute. I thought the trailers were hypercut, but no the scenes really are just that fast. (At least until we get to Carrey. Animating hedgehogs is too expensive.) Sonic's having a party, GUN shows up like "we need Team Sonic" and Sonic is literally just like "I like the name, let's go!" that's it. No briefing, no convincing from the organization that tased and captured him, just go.

I did find the little "What did you do, Sonic?" "I don't know, I do a lot of things" line to be funny, though.

Also before they jump out of the chopper, Sonic does the "talk about low budget flights" but it is...so forced. Like the entire idea behind that line in SA2 is Sonic is being a cheeky bastard because they captured him, here he just randomly says it for no reason.

NOW THE ACTUAL BEST PART OF THE MOVIE, Shadow and Maria. God they were SO CUTE. Like this is the stuff I wanted out of Dark Beginnings. Maria on roller skates while Shadow pulls her around the base, just getting into kid mischief, watching movies, slipping keycards to go sit out and watch the stars... Oh my god AND THE BUNNY FACE SHE DRAWS ON HIS TUBE. These scenes? 10/10.

Actually, when Commander Walters finally briefs Sonic, the way it was edited really made me think "oh shit did...did Shadow accidentally kill Maria in this movie?" that's obviously not what happened, but I was interested to see what angle they took.

Oh yeah and Maria didn't get shot. She died from an explosion CAUSED by a gunshot. The solider was trying to shoot her though, just Walters knocked the gun because "that's a child!" So there's that. (Not allowed to hate the GUN commander here, after all, he's on Sonic's side! He can't be for child murder!)

It was also...not as dramatic as I thought it would be. It's like 30 seconds. Gerald runs up, says "We have to go, they wanna take Shadow from us!" Then 10 seconds later, boom. I'm not paraphrasing, by the way.

Oh yeah, I guess I should mention Gerald. He's 110 and still alive. I was not opposed to this, I like to think I'm receptive to changes in AUs and I was curious what they could do with Gerald actively manipulating Shadow. Here's what they do: Jim Carrey. It's just double the Jim Carrey shenanigans and yes, it is tiring. Shadow has a moment like "I don't know if this is what Maria would have wanted..." and Gerald just goes "it's not about what she wanted, it's about what they deserve" and that's...basically it. YOU COULD'VE DONE MORE WITH THIS, BRO.

On top of that, Shadow was not created: he was found inside a meteor that looks A LOT like the Black Comet. Considering this is meant to be modern day Earth and not a huge fictional universe like the games where there's advanced space stations and such in the 50s (oh yeah the ARK ain't real here) I'm fine with this. Keeps his alien origins while aligning to the movie universe.

And I was kinda surprised but I THINK there's a reference to the fandub?? Sonic calls Shadow "Hot Topic" nooo my secret!!! so that was interesting. Could also just be some of their famous product placement, but this movie is also less...commercial than the others. No Olive Garden mentioned. Guess they used all the ad space on Knuckles.

Anyways, while getting the second key, Shadow punches Tom because he has the key and is currently disguised as Commander Walters, the one who sealed Shadow away. This is important, this is like the basis for the entire end of the movie because apparently one punch to the chest is enough to knock Tom out and put him in the hospital.

Now Sonic ALSO wants revenge, so he gets the Master Emerald to go super and...I just gotta point out, Knuckles left it with Wade. The way EVERYONE IN THE THEATER GROANED WHEN WADE POPPED UP ON SCREEN it was beautiful. Nice to know we all hate the Knuckles show.

This all leads to Shadow's reform which was...ech? After Sonic is like "no I won't kill you, that's not who I am, revenge doesn't make things better" Shadow is like "I didn't have a choice in who I became" and Sonic says "you always have a choice", Live and Learn plays and they go to stop the cannon firing on Earth. It felt so...shallow for a character like Shadow. Nothing about how Maria loved the world, so he should protect the world to honor her memory, it's just "revenge is bad". I guess it's to be more relatable to Sonic because they lean more into them being two sides of the same coin, but it's just so rushed and hollow.

Meanwhile Eggman kills his grandfather in a really drawn out unfunny sequence because he wants to rule the world, not destroy it, but the canon is already set to fire so they instead turn it away from the Earth while Super Sonic and Shadow block the ray. (The moon getting hit is an accident.)

Also you have no idea how much I wanted them to show Sonic trying to save Shadow, but only getting his inhibitor ring, THOUGH SONIC IS THE ONE WHOSE SUPER FORM FAILS. In this universe, I guess it makes sense because Sonic isn't the absolute powerhouse his game version is. But does Shadow show his growth and try to save him? No, it takes Tails and Knuckles awhile to address that.

Anyways, the reactor is unstable so Eggman tries to buy time while Shadow pushes the weapon away from Earth and then it blows up, killing both of them. ...Well Shadow shows up in the post-credits alive so I guess just Eggman is dead...maybe. Because the other scene shows a shit ton of Metal Sonics a la Shadow Android and Amy shows up to save him as the 4th teaser.

Overall, my issue isn't that it changed SA2's story, I wanted something different because I literally have SA2 at home. It's just these changes have all their potential completely squandered in favor of a lot and I mean a LOT of Jim Carrey nonsense. He's like half this movie.

With the writing quality of these films, I shouldn't be surprised, but I really thought after the second movie, they were on a good track. After seeing everyone else love it, it's kinda disappointing to find it rather mid.

Oh yeah and nothing from the bowling tournament teaser line in the Knuckles series, either. After making us sit through that hell, I WANTED to see Shadow bowl. We truly were robbed.

[his-red-right-hand]

What do you think Danny’s childhood was like/took place at? I personally head cannon him as being from PA due to the hunting culture and he seems to gravitate more east coast. It would make sense if his mom was dead/disappeared, but somehow we was able to go through the education system normally.

*slaps Danny on the back* This asshole can fit so much childhood trauma in it. *is visciously stabbed to death*

Moving on, we know that Danny has at least spent some time in Utah as that's where his driving licence is registered. Being a Brit I don't know a huge amount about the individual states beyond stereotypes, but given Danny's utter hatred of "regular everyday folks", Utah makes sense. Being surrounded by that many Mormons will drive anyone to murder.

Our boy has an antisocial personality type, which by itself does not make a murderer. The other two components are Male and Child Abuse.¤ And Danny was raised by a Vietnam War vet with a Mother who was either entirely absent for some reason; or was there but had so little impact or involvement with his life that she is basically a nonentity to him.

We know his father wanted him to join the military, raised him to succeed in it. I already have my issues with military training for adults, but as a way to raise a child? The only surprise we should have in regards to Danny murdering his fagher is that it didn't happen sooner.

I imagine that his father's inability to let go of the military was some sort of attempt at a coping mechanism against PTSD, probably combined with a fair amount of self medication.

I'm certain there would have been hunting trips/"wilderness training" from a young age. How old do you think he was when he made his first kill?

Danny at school, I imagine, would be a loner. He lacked the emotional grounding to be able to make friends, and we know he has explosive temper issues. I can see this turning into a sort of bad boy appeal as he grew older and learnt to charm and manipulate people around him. And like most narcissists, he can be very charming and likeable. If he wants something from you.

Tl;dr: Danny was physically and emotionally abused by his veteran father, who thought it was more important to teach his son to be a Warrior and a "Man" over how not to murder people for drawing a dumb comic making fun of his murdersona.

¤ We don't have enough cases of Female Antisocial Personalities being caught doing crime to do an analysis on them, which either means they do it less or they're good enough to not get caught.

[defire]

Ghost of Seattle Chapter 38

Previous chapter

Content: bullying, ableism, autistic whumpee, gang war

"Sela, he is really a ghost. He moves without touching the ground.”

"He screamed like hell when we broke his shin. I think he's just a guy."

It had been about a week. Ghost heard chaos outside in the hall, people talking excitedly. The way they did when they were getting ready for a raid. 

"What's going on?" Ghost called out, limping into the hall on crutches.

"Get out of the way!" Someone shoved him into the wall.

Ghost ducked back into someone else's room; the door was open. No one was inside.

Suddenly he caught Amherst's eye as the man hurried toward him.

"Amherst! What's going on?" Ghost called to him.

Amherst looked annoyed, but he moved through the stream of people to where Ghost stood in the doorway.

"There's been a message from the Cult. We're attacking immediately."

"What can I do?"

"Just fuckin--go be a sentry. Grab a crossbow."

Ghost nodded and hurried to do as Amherst said.

He felt goddamn useless, watching Shivers pour out in their disorganized, energetic way.

He had a loaded crossbow and 2 extra bolts. And he doubted very much he could load the other 2, with one hand.

Maybe he could afford to just, fracture his left arm a teeny bit more. If he did, he'd better be ready to see Able cry.

"I'm not ready." He said to the crossbow.

"First time?" Another sentry, 10 feet away, asked.

Ghost looked up. It was an albino girl, much more covered up than he was.

"Not really. You don't know me?" Ghost asked.

The girl laughed.

"I was being sarcastic."

Ghost swallowed and look down, embarrassed. 

"Seriously though," She said. "How could a psycho like you be scared right now?"

Ghost glanced at her, then back down at the ridiculous crossbow cradled in his right arm.

"Psycho?" He said.

"Yeah, ya know, psycho, no feelings beyond pure murderous instinct," She said like she was quoting something she'd heard a hundred times.

"I'm a psycho?" 

"I hear you have like, no hesitation. You just kill like it's no big deal. No remorse. Is that all true?"

Ghost frowned.

"I guess so? It all happens so fast. There's the target, so I kill them. It's pretty simple, I guess."

"You never worry about, their family, or something?"

"...Should I?" He said.

"I bet you're just like, 'I'm just following orders, that's it.'" She said in an overly-deep voice.

Ghost looked at her. It sounded like she was mocking him, but he couldn't tell what was wrong with following orders.

She stared, mouth falling open.

"That's--that's literally what you're thinking, isn't it."

"...What else would I be thinking?"

She burst into laughter, and wouldn't speak to him for awhile. And the explosions, flares and gunshots started.

They came back after what felt like a terribly long time, and they were running, chased by white-robed Cultists with bright yellow crosses like targets on their chests or backs.

Ghost aimed the crossbow, looking down the bolt itself because there were no sights, hoping that would be good enough. 

He fired carefully into the group of Cultists, not willing to risk hitting their own. The albino girl to his right picked off 3 with her rifle while he was trying to aim. The trigger was clumsy, and despite bracing it against his chest and the windowsill, it kicked weirdly and it almost hit him in the face.

He pursed his lips and grabbed another bolt. It was hard enough to get it into the channel, but he got out of breath straining different ways to load it onto the string, or something. With one hand, no less.

"Need some help?" The sniper girl said.

Ghost was gonna ignore her, but she was actually focusing on him waiting for an answer. 

"No." He said, like she was stupid for asking. 

Then he reddened as he kept failing to string the crossbow.

Shivers ran up and filled the second level. They must've already gated and set guards downstairs. Defense plans were to get main forces defending the perimeter buildings, then demolish them if needed and get further in. Oldman called it "scorched earth plus castle", whatever that meant. 

"What's a cripple doing in here?" Someone shouted.

Ghost knew it was at him--he was very conscious of his cast and crutches.

"Hey." The sniper clapped at him.

Ghost glanced at her as he snatched his crutches away from a Shiver, who was about to kick them away.

The girl swung a handgun across the concrete, and it stopped at his leg.

"Take it." She said. "Leave the stupid crossbow."

Ghost took it with a nod, stuffing it into his baggy front pocket. 

He fumbled with the stupid crutches, glancing once more at the girl.

She held up 4 fingers. 

He hobbled out, wondering why for a minute. Oh. 4 rounds.

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[theheromira]

Nimona appreciation post (Part 3 of idk even know how many)

Hi guys, I'm back with Part 3. Sorry about the delay, I tend to procrastinate even if something has to do with my newest hyperfixation lol (Pic for attention, like always lol)

at the beginning he says to Amb that he's not brooding and now he tells Nimona that "Knights don't mope, they brood."

"Murder him, murdder her, murder everyone!" aaand there is Amb standing int the door and Bals pose XD

Amb lil smile when he sees Bal. He probably thought that he killed Bal and seems glas that he's not

Also him just looking at Bals arm

Nimonas lil "Gesundheit" is way better in the english version ngl

Nemesis 😈

"Oh, look! It's Gloreth!" and the knights behind them actually look in the direction she pointed at

Amb acting like he was about to draw his sword and looking like they just caught him doing something forbidden like I don't even know

Bals almost defeated face at the beginning of the closet scene

Nimona just casually ripping that pipe out of the wall

Bals hamster cheeks when she grabs his face

that die-in-the-closet-dialogue felt very strange to me but I still don't completely understand how people can hate people who have a different orientation than them (sexual or not, I don't know how to say that exactly but I hope you kinda understand me?). There shouldn't be a problem about dying in a closet in real life and I really understand why people are so close-minded and this is still happening, I guess. Why does this "kids movie" motivate me to think about this kind of issue so much? But I guess it's a good thing, I'm probably/definitely not the only one who watched Nimona and really started to think about this (and the other themes of this movie)

also Nimona literally coming out of the closet (as a shape-shifter) is like really nice, I love little things like that in movies that you maybe not even register at first

I like to think that the axe opening the door is a little "Shining" reference

Nimona casually catching the arrow before her face

Bal being the competent idiot that he is grabbing the first thing his hand finds to use as a weapon without even looking

"Even if you see the horn?"

"I will not freak… Uhhh" with that face XD

I just looove her line "This is the part where you run.", how she looks at the knights and how they start to panic

Bals face while getting out of the closet is like: What the everloving hell did just happen/is just happening?

"Yeah" "Oh no! Stay away! Get back! No! This is not happening!" XD

Amb just being bamboozled and proving that he's at least a bit of a Nerd (who other then a Nerd or a Zoologist would call a Rhino by it's full name)

"Leave that guy alone!" "Take that" bonks him away with her horn lol, they are such a good duo

Stairs are either your best friend (Nimona seemingly) or your worst enemy (Kungfu Panda)

Bal just being completely like a fish out of water by what is happening during that chase is also kinda hilarious

Also him still having the brain to tell her she needs to go right in all of this mayhem is very competent of him, I stan him just a bit ngl

the whale

hey def needed a meeting table that round, they are a kingdom of knights

loving that Todd gets the tiny d*** joke, one of the best jokes in the movie and this movie has a lot of good ones

THE MUSIC <3

Now he wants the staircase, Bal really should make up his mind XD

I'm a bit sad that the original BlueSky-Scene where she changes into a dragon didn't make it in there but this is also fine, I guess

How did Bal survive that fall?

also loving how he just slides the last few metres face down lol

Nimona looking at Bal before she says her "Something, something, something, we win." was kinda cute

Explosions! "Metal" Also: stuff like this reminds me of a kind of old scetch from a comedian (I know the guy from some youtube vids of different poetry slams but he is a comedian now) I like pertaining bear catapults (I def will get myself some tickets if he ever does a show near me, the guy is hilarious)

Bal looking kinda chill (he prob has a concussion and isn't quite there, I guess) at the different things that fly towards them and then focusing on that little bit of debris that knocks him out (and the sound he makes when he gets hit) lol

Sooo, that was it for part 3. Short I know, but I think I will try to get these posts out and ngl my attention span is a bit short at the moment… with this kind of post thats more on the short site I believe I can stay on the topic and not procrastinate that much. Maybe there will also be some longer ones inbetween, we will see. Have a good one guys ^^