#it will come back full force with the new series I predict
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
So many goddamn babies‼️ (Tomodachi Life):
(Guys I think I’m a psychic or some kind of gifted creature because what do you mean a new life series has been my birthday (19/10) present two years in a row😍 (1st ep of Secret Life on 20th Oct, and newest life series ep on the 18th
NEVERMIND IT COMES OUT ON THE 19TH‼️‼️‼️ IM WINNING SO HARD RN YEAHHHHHHHHH)
Anyway
Bit of a short one, but…)
- NOT A FUCKINF DRILL
- JIMMY AND JOEL HAVE HAD THEIR CHILD
- ITS A BIY (mother fucker has a hell of a resting bitch face😭😭)
- LEWIS😭😭😭😭😭
- ANKTHWE CALL
- ANOTHER BABY
- WOAHHHH
- TWO IN ONE GO
- FROM PEARL AND REN THIS TIME
- A GURL
- GIRL
- SHES SO PRETTY LIKE HER BIG SISYER😭😭😭😭😭
- BEAUTIFUL BLUE EYES GIVE HER SOME BROWN CONTACTS
- MILLIE😭😭😭😭
- SOBBINGGGGGGG
- GADDAMMNNNNN
- That was a rollercoaster🙂
- It’s been a couple weeks and now Millie is grown up😭
- BROTHER SHES GOT A COMICALLY LOW VOICE MAN
- LIKE CLINICALLY
- The slideshows of the kids growing up is so cute
- I was an absent father for the entire time
- Didn’t check in once
- She got the bowl cut as a kid😭 poor thing
- They end it with the fuckinf clip of the kid giggling. I’m so hormonal rn don’t even get me started
- Omg what a surprise🙂 guess who’s fighting😐
- Fucking Grian. Again.
- It’s with Joel
- TWO MONTHS
- Oop. I’ve been gone longer than a few weeks I guess😭😭
- Or I just didn’t visit him last time idk
- K they made up
- Poultry Man and Rendog friendship‼️‼️‼️
- I’ve been in London and shared a hotel room with my friend where I got fuck all sleep so Cleo’s new catchphrase is “cowabunga” when happy and I refuse to change it
- walked in on Grian making goo goo eyes at Scar😭 life imitates art ig
- the dreams these guys have are not verbally describable help I’m flinging a stickman hot guy around like crazy what
- “where have you been for three months” …good question😨
- I gave Hotguy car ears… he loves them
- just gave X a whole ass pineapple and he ate that mf whole🤨
- ETHO IS IN LOVE
- BIGB?????
- FUCK IT UP RAREPAIR
- yessss bitch wear a children’s bear t-shirt to your confession
- “I know more about you than you do, we should go out”
- …
- who’s gonna be surprised when I tell you it didn’t go well
- “I’m sorry” in a really echoed voice😨😭😭 PLEASEEEE
- damn they both went straight to sleep😭😭😭
- real
- wish that was me so bad rn
- I keep forgetting I put Martyn in a dress😭😭big ass ball gown
- never mind he wants to change
- yesssss a bikini
- he loves it😭😭😭😭😭
#HC pen island#solidaritygaming#smallishbeans#smallidarity#pearlescentmoon#rendog#grian#zombiecleo#goodtimeswithscar#gtwscar#gtws#ethoslab#bigbst4tz2#xisuma#martyn inthelittlewood#inthelittlewood#poultry man#hotguy#istg that tag isn’t what I think it is but I’m using it anyway#sorry for not updating but my brain has been fixating on other things‼️😨#it will come back full force with the new series I predict#WHOS EXCITEDDDDD⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️#goddamn I’m tired#mpreg#sorry
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s about Self-actualization, not Sacrifice
I can’t overstate how much I Do Not Want Agatha to sacrifice herself and/or die at the end of this series, and tbh I’m mad that people are even floating that idea out in the ether.
I don’t care if her sacrificing herself for Billy or anyone else is making a different choice from how she couldn’t save Nicky or stealing witches’ powers, and is therefore “narratively satisfying.” I don’t care if her dying means she gets to be in some kind of eternity with Rio. I don’t care if she was some kind of ghost figure in the comics and we could see her specter in future projects. I do not want Force ghost Agatha.
I want living, breathing, transformed Agatha to come out of this more herself than she ever has been before. Freed from the hold her past and her limiting beliefs and her reputation has had on her for the last several centuries. I want this to be a new beginning of her journey, not the end.
Fortunately, I think Jac and the writers have my back on this. (Please, god)
The journey here on the Road is not about sacrifice. Because a) I don’t believe and have never believed that Agatha actually sacrificed Nicky for the Darkhold. Red herring, it didn’t happen that way. So there’s no narrative reversal to be had there in the first place. And b) the various deaths, the witches’ stories we’ve seen play out so far have not been about Sacrifice either, at least not primarily.
Alice ended up sacrificing her life to save Agatha, but that was not her story in that moment. That was not the narrative we were meant to see.
Alice saving Agatha in that moment was about her stepping into her power, her highest self, the Protection witch she was always meant to be free from the generational curse. Someone who cannot stand by and watch others in pain if she can do something about it. That’s her highest self.
Lilia’s sacrifice wasn’t her true journey either. Her story was about embracing her power, becoming the Traveler, playing out her story in the way she saw and accepting her gifts for what they are (your task is not to control but to see). She too, regained her full power, her full self in that moment, and took out at least five of the Seven with her. She took her power back from the fear that had been holding her for so long, and became the highest version of herself, the Queen of Cups.
Agatha’s journey isn’t about sacrifice either, it never was.
Agatha’s journey, as I’ve said in other posts, is about finding her true self, her true power, unmasking herself from all of the facades she’s worn over the years to protect herself and hide her pain. Answering the question, who IS Agatha, all along? It’s about dealing with her trauma so that she can exist as her true self, and be seen by others as her true self.
We’ll find out in the next couple episodes what that looks like but I can already tell you she’s NOT inherently evil, or inherently good. She is a woman shaped by heartbreak, grief, and sorrow. She has made choices, some bad, some good, and she is capable of making new choices. She is capable of transformation, of peeling away all the false versions of her to find who her truest self is — which I believe, is a leader, a mentor, a guide. The Mother, in many ways.
In that case, sacrificing herself for Billy or the coven or whatever isn’t the play here. It’s teaching Billy (probably, and maybe Jen) what he’s capable of and how to access his true power. It’s the same role she played for Wanda, only this time, when Billy realizes what he’s done (create the Road, probably) she’s going to help him, not fight him for his power. There’s probably also some element of them trusting each other and working together, having seen each other’s true selves.
I’m not going to try to predict the specifics, but my point is that Agatha dying at the end is simply not the move. And if she does, the only way it works is if it’s a dying on the Road to be reborn in the real world type of situation (so everyone else lives too). In which case, fine, I guess, but I still don’t want her to die. I want her to choose life. I think with everything she’s suffered, death is the easy choice. Living and changing and growing and letting people in is much harder.
Besides what an absolute fucking waste it would be of Kathryn Hahn’s talent to just kill off Agatha here and not have her show up later and irritate the shit out of some Avengers.
#Agatha all along#agatha harkness#yeah this got under my skin can you tell#AgathaRio#billy maximoff#No I don’t know how Rio plays into all this I don’t have that much brainpower today#she’s not dying ok that’s all I’m saying#this whole show is about dealing with trauma y’all we gotta get some breakthroughs here
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
There's no love like our love
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader
Summary: When the Royal Family finally turns on the Grisha, you find yourself caught in the crossfire. Alone, of course. You're always alone, it seems.
Warnings: murder, death, canonical persecution of Grisha, violence, mentioned death of children, sexual harassment, slutshaming, mentions of sex and cheating, suicidal thoughts, self hatred
Word Count: 6.6k words
Authors' Note: I DID IT! HERE IS YOUR PART TWO FOR A LOST EMBRACE! IT ONLY TOOK 76 YEARS! BUT I GOT IT DONE BEFORE THE END OF APRIL (this is also very not edited, and I'm still not a native English speaker).
Also, funfact: I cut the ending of this, just like I did with part 1. There was a whole other ending, but that was basically just a lot of fluff. I wasn't sure if people would want that from this series/twoshot specifically so I cut it. I can't tell of cutting the ending is a good or a really bad habit.
The title is from Lights are on by Tom Rosenthal!
Part 1: A lost embrace | Masterlist
The universe is filled with light. Billions of beautiful stars, all different sizes and temperatures, burning brightly and sending their energy out into the universe to bring warmth and light.
But there is even more darkness in the universe than there are stars, filling the space between the celestial bodies. An all surrounding nothingness that acts as a playing field for all of the beautiful, weird and wonderful things hiding in the endless sky. A canvas for everything else in the universe that hugs and surrounds all.
And one day, at least according to the most popular theories, the last stars will die and the universe will be entirely engulfed in darkness.
It began with a loud burst of light, and it will die quietly in shadows.
That knowledge used to bring you comfort and a feeling of belonging. The darkness became your new home, a special, safe place right next to your husband, but there is no safety and love to be found in the darkness now.
It was predictable, honestly. You should've known the second Vasily allowed the Darkling to travel Ravka to search of the Sun Summoner with only a few First Army soldiers for protection, but you simply didn't pay attention to the signs, too caught up in your own frustration and bitterness.
He didn't realise it either, it seems, because he simply left without even saying goodbye, leaving you behind to run the Little Palace in his absence. One night you fall asleep next to him, back turned towards him to visibly reject his presence, and the next morning he is gone, his side of the bed made and all of his most important belongings gone. No letter, no announcement beforehand, nothing.
Maybe his head was simply too focused on Alina to even remember that he still had a wife.
It doesn't matter anymore.
You're still awake when they come, three nights after the General left the Little Palace.
You're laying in bed, humming an old lullaby – one of the really old ones that you learned because he sometimes sings them to you when you can't sleep – while working on fixing the embroidery on the kefta of one of the younger students.
The disappearance of the Sun Summoner has led to chaos in all of Ravka, and there hasn't been a calm moment in the palace in weeks. You are forced, just like everyone else, to work until you pass out while keeping up appearances in front of the royal family. Everything needs to be immaculate despite the fact that the whole country is in a state of emergency, so you push small detail work like this into every free second of your day in hopes of doing something good.
You're so focused on your project that you don't even hear them approach your windows from the outside.
They sneak around, quietly taking out the guards until they're sure that they won't meet too much resistance, and then, suddenly, everything is very loud.
You don't remember what happens. Just flashes of memories. Little pieces that simply aren't enough to form a full picture, as if your body simply wasn't able to take it all in. Or maybe it refuses to remember.
Glass shatters, loud and unfamiliar steps echo like thunder through the halls of what was supposed to be your home, men with bad intentions are in your bedroom, in your house, in your garden.
And your husband is nowhere to be found.
The air smells like fire, panic and fear crackling in the air like electricity and the screams of the Grisha you swore to protect as if they were your own children echo through the building and outside.
Shots are fired in the distance, you're on the floor, the barrel of a gun pressed tightly against the back of your head.
There are more screams slicing through the night. You think you hear someone yelling your name, but before you can answer, one of the men who broke into your room slams their heavy gun against your head, and darkness welcomes you into it's familiar embrace.
When you finally wake it's to the sound of a gun shot ringing through the air, and though the bars of your new cage you watch through bleary eyes how one of your fellow Grisha runs away, his bright purple kefta unfortunately doing very little to hide his movements between the trees. You can't tell who it is, not in the dark.
A second shot gets fired. You see how it hits the Durast in the head, his body falling to the ground and staying there, unmoving. Nobody goes to check if he's dead or to drag him off and bury or burn his corpse. It's just left right there, next to a large ash tree.
Someone whimpers and sobs, begs for their life, but you can't take your eyes off the corpse. The way it just lays there, like it's nothing.
You haven't seen an actual battle in centuries. The Darkling is too paranoid to let you go, convinced that his enemies will target you in a fight and take you away from him. The thought alone used to turn his eyes cold and hard like ice, his whole body shaking with anger at the idea of you being in a dangerous situation. You haven't seen death like this, so fast and seemingly insignificant, in forever.
There is no triumph visible in the body language of the soldier that shot the Durast, but no shame either. A job done, nothing more. He doesn't celebrate or pat himself on the back. He just sits back down next to the fire in the middle of the camp and takes a sip of water, like the life he just took was worth less than even the life of a rabbit.
The other guards move to check the handcuffs of the others after that incident, making sure that everything works and no one is able to use their powers. Your heart races so fast it makes you dizzy, the fog in your head thickening and threatening to drag you back into unconsciousness.
It's hard to stay focused enough to take the whole situation in, but you try anyway, tearing your gaze away from the corpse. There are nine cages, including yours, one of them now empty.
The Grisha in the cages are, just like you, handcuffed with their hands far apart. Three of them are wearing their keftas - two of them being Alkemis, and you ask yourself if the Materialki were all still down in the workshops when the raid began - but the others, including you, are wearing whatever you wore to sleep that night. All of you are dirty, and you pray silently that none of them are hurt. It's hard to see with the lack of light. The cages all stand a bit too far away from the fire to truly see much.
The men who guard you, on the other hand, all look like they dressed up for a military parade. Their First Army uniforms sparkle almost, their faces clean shaven or decorated with carefully trimmed beards. This was planned. This whole raid was planned, probably for weeks, and you didn't notice. The idea most likely came up as soon as the General returned from the Fold, and no one ever picked up on it.
It feels like a relic from a time you're supposed to have left behind, a time you didn't even experience and only heard about from the Darkling and on rare occasions his mother.
The First Army doesn't hunt Grisha anymore. The king doesn't put you into cages. They just hate you, insult you, and harass you, but they don't physically harm you anymore. Yet... here you are.
Ravka isn't supposed to be like Fjerda, like Shu Han, like Kerch. The Darkling had made sure of that, worked for this one singular goal for centuries, and dedicated his whole life to it.
The thought of him makes your heart sting painfully, and you suppress the urge to worry for him, to wonder where he is and if he's safe. You have bigger issues than him right now. He's fine. There's no room for argument. He has survived wars and centuries of persecution. This won't kill him. He's probably out there somewhere, completely safe, trying to track down his sun summoner while you rot in this cage alongside the others.
After the handcuffs are checked you watch as four of the five soldiers walk to the cages of the two Alkemi, Ivanna and Ole, and pull them out, the fifth still sitting at the fire and watching the whole situation with mild interest.
You hear one of the guards make a suggestion on how to deal with them, and your stomach turns.
In your mind, you are 12 years old, hiding behind your mothers skirt. Her hand rests on your head, trying to soothe you as you watch with the other people your village how a woman gets dragged out of the cage they kept her in. You remember her face. She works as a seamstress. She gives you pretty ribbons to tie around your wrist or into your hair whenever your mother buys something from her.
The man – was he the mayor? The village head? You don't remember what he called himself – who pulled her out of the cage pushes her to the ground, right in front of a large rock, and motions for someone hiding in the crowd to come closer.
Another man steps forward, the blacksmith, in his hands the biggest hammer you have ever seen.
The woman starts screaming now, her voice breaking under the force of her violent sobs. Her body shakes horribly, and your own shaking hands dig deeper into the material of your mothers skirt.
"Please, please, I swear it. This is a misunderstanding. I did nothing wrong. I swear it. Please, just listen to me," the woman begs while the mayor grabs the thick rope attacked to her handcuffs and pulls her arms and hands to rest on the rock.
The noise the hammer made when it slammed down on her hands haunts you for centuries, just like her screams do.
Just like the screams of the Materialki probably will if you survive this when the guards push them to the ground. The only difference is that the soldiers have no large hammers to break their hands.
You can't move, can't speak, can't do anything, completely frozen in fear while the soldiers hold them down, each of them pressing an arm down onto the cold ground. The two have no chance to defend themselves.
The man at the fire finally stands up slowly, grabbing one of the rocks lining the fire to prevent forest fires, and walks over to the six people on the ground.
You watch him do it. You have to. You failed to protect your Grisha, and the least you can do is witness the horrors they have to go through because of your own mistakes.
Because you should've known. You should've known. Of course the royal family would turn on Grisha. Of course they would send the Darkling away before they raided the Little Palace. He is the last line of defence for the Grisha in this country.
You should've noticed the signs. You should've talked to the General about it, maybe even with Baghra. You should've started to prepare to evacuate the whole Palace, organized a place to hide with food and beds and water.
But you didn't. You didn't because you were too blinded by your own stupid quarrel with the Darkling. This is your fault. Every drop of blood that was shed that night, every bit of pain and suffering that your Grisha experienced, clings to you.
It's all your fault.
When the soldiers are sure that they broke every bone in Alkemis' hands, they put the cuffs back on and throw them back into their cages.
And then they walk back to the fire in the middle of the camp and begin to eat, ignoring the sobbing of the Grisha only a few metres away from them and the corpse still peacefully resting between the bushes and trees.
You wake up the next morning with aching muscles and the knowledge that you probably won't get out of this camp alive. Because as much as you would like to pretend otherwise, these people know you. If Vasily gives the command to have you killed, these men know that you're their target. And he would. You can't even blame him for it. You're the wife of the General, just as much of a symbol for the Second Army as the Darkling. Killing you would be a message to all of Ravka.
They don't treat you much differently than they treat the others, to your surprise. You get starved like the others, glared at like the others, and dehydrated like the others.
You could almost believe that they somehow don't know who you are if it wasn't for the insults.
Every Grisha gets insulted, some more creatively than the others. Especially the two Alkemi get made fun of for their broken, swollen, and discoloured hands by the soldiers, like they aren't the reason why they look like that. Other insults directed at other Grisha in the camp, on the other hand, are overused and boring, like when they asked Lena, an Inferni, where her spark is, why her fire has disappeared.
"I thought Infernis are always so hot-headed? Come on, give us a show!" One of the older men in the camp says to her on your second day awake, and it makes your skin crawl. You wish you could claw those mens eyes out, make them bleed.
But the insults they direct at you, those are personal. They prove that they know exactly who you are despite never saying your name once.
The Darklings slut. That's what you are to them.
His favourite toy. A bedwarmer. A plaything. A whore to entertain him. A distraction from the war. A thing he can let his frustrations out on.
That's who you are in their eyes. Nothing more. Certainly nothing that deserves respect or should be feared. The fact that you and the other Grisha can't use the small science makes them braver.
The worst insults are the ones they come up with after the third day in the cage, right after the soldiers get a quick visit from one of Vasilys messengers, because their words are suddenly no longer insults. They are observations and a horrible, new truth that convince you that their earlier insults are true, working hand in hand with the thoughts and fears you had before any of this even started.
"Don't look at me like that, whore. Everybody, even us fools in the First Army, know how enamoured your husband was with the sun summoner. How many times do you think he fucked her before she ran? Probably did it right behind your back in your shared bed, you stupid thing. I bet she was the last thing he thought of before the guards that accompanied him shot him in the head."
The soldiers celebrate the news of the Darklings death like they just won the wars with Fjerda and Shu Han and tore down the Fold with their bare hands, drinking alcohol and eating freshly hunted deer meat while you and the other Grisha grieve and starve. You don't allow yourself to cry like the others, but you can feel your soul rip itself apart.
You begin to lose yourself after that.
Your sanity runs through your hands like sand, your mind desperate to escape the smell of the Durasts rotting corpse that the soldiers never bothered to remove, the insults, the screams of the other Grisha when they get pulled out of their cages (one a day, always only one a day, like they're trying to drag it out), the desperate hunger that burns in your stomach, the thirst that tears your throat apart, the death of your husband: reality in all it's horrible shapes and colours.
First, you spend a few minutes caught up in a nice memory, like a short conversation in the gardens of the Little Palace, drinking tea and leaning on his shoulder while he tells you about his day. Then the daydreams get longer and take more control over you until you spend days staring at nothing, buried so deep in your own mind that you're no longer aware of what happens around you.
A small part of you hopes that they'll kill you while you're in that state, caught up in the past. Everything is better than reality, and with every second that passes when you're fully aware of your surroundings, that reality becomes more unbearable.
You love remembering the time before Alina the most. You know that her only sin is shining a light onto the lies, destruction, and rot surrounding you, but without her light, you were able to pretend.
You are good at pretending.
The light just makes it harder, and sometimes you slip up and accidentally sink into a more recent memory, your mind racing through different thoughts so fast that you're unable to stop it.
Like how the girl whose kefta you repaired that night, little Bibi, probably ended up dying without it after working so hard to prove to everyone that she earned it. And now her corpse lays somewhere in Ravka with no one to take care of it, to lay it to rest.
The kids are easily the worst thing to remember. Every time you do, it feels like the guilt eats your heart or whatever is left of it right out of your chest, ripping and tearing on the muscle like a wolf on a bone.
How many of them got out of the Palace in time and are now hiding somewhere, probably scared and alone with no one to help them and no idea how to get to other Grisha or back to their families? How many of them are stuck in cages just like you, starving and terrified of the First Army men who are only waiting to get the command to kill them? How many of them didn't even make it out of the Little Palace and died at the hand of the soldiers during the raid?
How many children were buried and burned that night?
Your husband isn't much better to remember either. The words of the First Army soldiers burn themselves into your mind like hot coals. You don't want to think about it. You've never wanted to think about something less in your entire life, but no matter what you do, the pain of losing someone you've known for almost your whole life feels like a knife stuck in your chest.
"... guards that accompanied him shot him in the head."
It's odd, really, how all consuming grief can be even if a part of you hates the person you lost. Almost surreal.
There have always been chapters of your life subtitled with "before the Darkling". There aren't supposed to be chapters subtitled "after the Darkling", not even a single one. It's wrong. It's entirely wrong. He's supposed to be a constant. Something that doesn't move, doesn't change, doesn't leave. He was supposed to be here until the end of everything.
He wasn't supposed to leave you behind. You can't do this without him. You can't lose him. This isn't right.
It's the last piece. The last drop required to convince you that giving up might not be the worst option. If they succeeded in killing the Darkling... what can truly be done anymore? What can you do? You can't free the Grisha in your camp, not with your hands cuffed so far apart from each other that your arms regularly start cramping, and a stomach so empty that it feels like your entire body is trying to collapse in on itself to fill the void. You can't convince the soldiers to free you. You can't save the children and rebuild Ravka into a safe place once more, not alone. You can't do anything on your own. You are nothing.
So why shouldn't you die? Why not join your husbands soul, wherever it may be now? What is left for you to do here? What can you do?
Death haunts your sense of smell and vision. It haunts your mind, and it haunts all of Ravka. Why not let it carry you off? Away from the pain, the suffering, the fear and grief and rot.
There is only more to come. More horrors that linger in the unpredictable future, and no one left to fix it. You certainly can't do it, Baghra - if she still lives, that is - doesn't care enough about others to even attempt to fix anything, and the sun summoner evidently can't do it either. All she can do is shine light on the evil lingering in the dark, but she's not strong or persuasive enough to improve and change the nightmares she exposes.
The Darkling could've done it. He would fight tooth and nail, drench his hands in blood and ash to free the others. He has fought his whole life, after all. He could've done it again.
But you can't. You can't take his position in this war, as much as you wish you could. You can't even get your hands out of your stupid cuffs, no matter how hard you try.
Baghra was right in the end, it seems. You really are too weak to stay at her and her sons side as their equal. You are dust, nothing more.
Now that you're here, stuck in a cage and unable to defend yourself in any way, you ask yourself once more how she and her son could've possibly survived this long. How did they not give up? What do they have that you lack?
"When the entire world hates you and wants you dead, the best thing you can do is live."
That's what she said back then, but you simply don't understand how she found the strength to keep going. You can't find it in you, no matter how much you look. Your whole life is gone. Your friends are probably all in cages or dead. Your husband is dead. Your home is gone. There is nothing left, no reason for you to continue.
Your husband would want you to keep going, a voice in the back of your mind answers, and you can feel the sharp stinging in your chest return at the thought.
You miss him. You miss him so much that it feels like you're being torn apart from the inside. And if you're really honest with yourself, you have to admit that you have been in this state for a while.
All of that anger and jealousy was just your bodies way to avoid facing the fact that you were lonely. No wonder you immediately fell back into routine like a desperate little cat when he finally gifted you some attention after Alina fled. Your entire being was begging to get him back.
And now you will never have him again because you were both too stubborn to simply talk with each other. He will never understand how much it hurt to see him obsess over someone else, and you will never know why you suddenly weren't enough for him anymore.
You will never hear his voice again, or knit him a new scarf for winter, or wash his hair for him after an exhausting day. You will never be comforted by him when you have a headache or watch the first snow of the year cover the grass outside of the Little Palace. You will never fall asleep next to him again, his arms wrapped around you and your face pressed against his chest as his heartbeat and calm breathing lull you to sleep.
He will never hug you again or surprise you with breakfast. He will never help you choose jewelry for an event again, give you his cloak when you're cold, kiss you, laugh at your horrible jokes, or moan your name into your ear, his voice raspy with love and desire while he tries to bring you to another orgasm before his own crashes down on him.
You will never do anything with him ever again.
Turning your head slightly, you stare at the soldiers sitting at the fire, eating some form of stew. You can't smell it. The stench of the decomposing body is too strong, and you wonder how the soldiers can stomach food in this environment.
You can barely breathe on some days without gagging every few seconds. It's so horrible that it drives tears into your eyes.
They talk and laugh about some servant girl, and you silently ask yourself what fate the servants of the Little Palace met. How many of them died that night? How many fled? Did any of them try to help the Grisha that might've fled? And saints, what happened to the Oprichniki?
Slowly closing your eyes again, you pray that the wind changes direction and starts blowing the smell away while you try to think of something that gives you strength.
The first thing that comes to mind is your amplifier.
You haven't thought about that day in a while, not since Alina came to the Palace and your heart and soul drowned themselves in jealousy and hate.
But it's not right to forget something so special. You should remember.
Who else in all of Ravka got proposed to, not with a ring but with a barn owl and a knife?
He has been gone for months, looking for something in West Ravka, choosing to trave through Fjerda and around the Fold to avoid going through it, and the constant worry that he would be discovered keeps you awake on some nights. He sends a letter once a month and promises you over and over that he would be back in the spring, but you still end up surprised when one of your friends drags you out of your bed in the middle of the night and ushers you towards the Generals quarters.
And when you open the doors you find him leaning against his desk, a knife next to him on the table and a barn owl sitting quietly in a cage, large eyes looking at you curiously, but you don't even see those things. Not at first, at least.
You just see him.
"You're back!"
Quickly jumping over to him, you throw your arms around him and press your face against him, a deep laugh bubbling in his chest as he moves to embrace you tightly.
"Careful, my love," he murmurs, his hands finding the back of your neck and pressing you closer to him.
You stay like that for a while, holding each other tightly while he whispers soft words into your ear.
"I'm so happy to see you. I missed you so much, little love. I hope you weren't too lonely without me," he coos, pressing a long kiss onto your head.
You're about to answer him when the bird finally makes himself known. Turning your head quickly you look at it, and the owl turns it's head to the side as if it's trying to do assess you carefully as well, it's dark eyes looking you over a few times. You feel a bit self-conscious in your night dress, but instead of shying away, you decide to let it look.
"Is that what you were looking for in West Ravka?" you ask, gazing back up at him.
"I did a lot of research over the past year, and I think this amplifier would be strong enough," he explains, his voice as soft as a feather.
"Strong enough?"
"To keep you with me. I didn't believe it at first either, but this little bird could give you forever. Time would no longer be able to take you from me. I could keep you for eternity."
Tears well up in your eyes, your hands moving to hold onto the front of his kefta as he reaches over to the knife and holds it out to you.
"You don't have to do it right now. You can get to know the owl and see if it feels right. Think about it for a while. It's a big commitment, after all." His empty hand moves up to cup your face, and the tenderness in his gaze makes your heart race. "If you chose the amplifier, I will stay with you. I will be at your side until the end of everything, I promise it. I will take care of you when you're hurt, hold you when you're sad, and laugh with you when you're happy. I will fight at your side, protect you with my life, and take care of you until I die."
Biting your lip weakly, you look up into his eyes, somehow darker than the night sky. "And if I don't choose to take the amplifier?"
"Then I'll still do all of those things. I will just have less time by your side, but I will cherish that time just as much, sweet girl."
You don't know when it happens because you start to loose track of time after the first week is over, but at some point in a random night one of the soldiers goes into the forest to get fresh water from a nearby river and doesn't return.
You're not conscious enough to notice it, and the soldiers are too caught up in their preparations for tonight's entertainment.
You don't even notice how they move through the camp, their eyes looking at each and every grisha they have, and judging who would be able to provide the most fun tonight. You just wish you were lying on the floor.
If you laid down, you could pretend that the heaviness on your chest is your husbands weight and not a heavy mountain of grief that tries to drag you down into the heart of the world.
He liked to do that. Lay on top of you to make sure that every single centimetre of you touched him in some way. You used to jokingly complain about it, but he never stopped. Every time he knew you needed comfort he would lay down on top of you, his heavy, strong body pressing you deep into the mattress while he talked, either asking questions about your day and whatever might be bothering you, or telling you about his, always carefully pressing small kisses onto your face and neck.
He must've known that his weight comforted you, made you feel safe. You've never wanted to be crushed into a mattress by him so badly in your whole life.
You don't hear it when they discuss if you're weak enough now to remove you from the cuffs. You don't even hear it when they open your cage, the old metal screeching loudly.
You don't realize that anything is wrong until one of the soldiers unlocks the cuffs and your body falls to the floor like a wet sack of flour. A loud groan leaves your mouth, your voice rough from lack of use.
The soldier grabs your ankles and drags you out of the cage, your upper body dragging over the floor. After being hung up for so long, you realise very quickly that you can't move your arms at all. The muscles start twitching as soon as you even attempt to bring them together, and a horrible, sharp tingling sensation makes itself noticeable. You bite your teeth together to stop yourself from screaming out.
A wave of panic crashes over you as soon as you fully understand what's going on, trying to kick the man dragging you closer to the fire, but none of your movements seem to really bother him.
As soon as you're close enough to the fire, someone flips you onto your stomach and buries their hand in your hair to pull your head up. Your back bends horribly, and you hiss out in pain as your eyes find those of the soldier who broke the Alkemis hands with a rock.
He doesn't say anything. He just looks at you, eyes taking in every flinch and twitch in your face.
You stay like this for a few seconds staring at each other, when he suddenly spits directly into your face, a wide grin splitting his face into two a few seconds later before he slaps you. Your head drops to the ground quickly.
"Let's get started. Markus can join us later when he's done," someone says. Three seconds later, before you have time to register what he means, you have a small knife in your back.
A blood curdling scream leaves your throat and tears well up in your eyes. You want to beg, to humiliate yourself even further and kiss their shoes in hopes of escaping this, but the last shred of pride left in you won't let you.
One of the soldiers steps onto one of your hands, twisting his shoe a bit in the process to make it hurt more. Someone else grabs your other arm and twists it behind your back until you scream out once more. This time, you scream your husbands name, unable to stop yourself in time. It's a broken, pathetic sound that echoes through the trees like a gunshot.
You know he won't come, but something about saying his name again feels almost cathartic, so you continue to scream it out with your full heart and soul. With every hit, every kick, and every stab wound, you scream the real name of the black heretic out into the endless night and beg death to bring you to him.
When the first gunshots get fired into the forest, you mistakenly assume that they're shooting at you and tightly close your eyes. Your heartbeat rushes loudly in your ears, and your mind replays the events of the first day when the Durast got shot. You can't even stand up and run. Your whole body is consumed by pain.
This is it, you think. Loud screams pierce through the air, gruelling, blood curling screams that scare you half to death.
Your mind races, trying to quickly find a last memory to remember before a bullet pierces your chest or head and kills you, something sweet and soft and perfect, like your wedding night, or your first kiss, or your-.
A loud scream rips itself out of your throat when a bullet hits you right into your leg. The man who shot it is dead seconds later, torn to shreds by darkness itself, but you don't see it, your eyes still rightly closed as you wait for the next bullet to hit you.
It never comes.
Instead someone yells your name, and you think it sounds familiar.
"Ivan!" the man screams, and a second later, someone carefully turns you onto your back and falls to their knees next to you, pulling your head up into their lap, their large hands cupping your face.
You don't want to die. You're not ready.
"My love, my love, it's me. Can you hear me?," he speaks. Fabric ruffles and something wide is dropped over your shaking, weak form, and your whole body feels warm for the first time in days. A familiar scent enters your lungs, somehow overpowering the stench of rotting corpse and fresh blood.
"Sasha?" Squinting your eyes, you look up, trying to focus on the blurry face hovering above yours. He's easy to recognize. The ink black lines over his face are unique to him, almost out of place in this world, just like him. You want to reach up and touch him, but you can't. Your muscles won't cooperate.
"I'm here, my little love. I'm right here. I found you. And I'm so proud of you. So, so proud of you. And I'm sorry," Aleksander answers. His eyes sparkle like stars, tears rolling down his face and dripping onto yours like raindrops. In the back of your mind, you realize that you've never seen him cry in front of people like this before. Only ever in private. Now his voice is almost breaking, his sobs so loud it drowns out the noise of your own hammering heartbeat. It must be a dream. He would never allow himself to show weakness like this.
Ivan appears next to him like a ghost, his hands covered in blood as he carefully lifts the thick black cloak Aleksander covered you with from your legs to look at the injuries there.
"Sasha," you rasp out again. You want him to hold you so badly, but you can barely speak. All you want is to be held by your husband.
"Right here. I'm so sorry, sweet girl. So sorry. I promised I would protect you, and I failed. I'm so sorry, I will never make that mistake again, I swear. I'll never take you for granted again. I'm so sorry for being late."
You want to respond, to calm him down, but he doesn't give you a chance to talk. He just continues with his panicked, slightly hysterical rambling, his whole body shaking under the force of his sobs.
"I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you're safe, and I will never leave your side again. No one will ever hurt you again."
His thumb strokes your cheek gently, and the love in his gaze almost feels like a punch in the gut. He looks absolutely in love and absolutely devastated as well. "I thought I lost you. I kept looking for you in every camp I found, but you were never there, and none of the soldiers would tell me where you are. I was so sure they killed you. I was so scared. I thought-"
Aleksanders voice shatters like glass, his body almost curling in on itself as he presses his forehead against yours. You recognize the breathing pattern he uses, an old trick he taught you a few years ago when you were still new to your position as the Darklings wife. He's trying to stop a panic attack from taking over.
"I'm so proud of you. You're so strong and brave, my darling girl. My lovely wife. I love you so much. You're so good, so good for me. I don't know what I would do without you. What I would do if they... I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you. I'm sorry."
He sounds broken, you notice. You've never heard him like this in your entire life. Tears flood your eyes, and you take a deep breath, more of his familiar scent entering your lungs. Rosemary and ash, with a hint of something sweet.
"I'm never going away again, I promise. I will never leave you again, sweet girl. Never again. You will never be able to get rid of me. I will bind myself to you, body and soul, until the end of everything, I swear it."
You're starting to get dizzy. Everything is so overwhelming.
"Am I dead?" You hear yourself asking, your vision dimming slowly, and you're sure you will be dragged back into unconsciousness by your body soon. Aleksander laughs, and it's oddly light and relieved, considering the context.
"No. No, you're alive. You survived. We both survived."
You smile.
Part 3: So I stayed in the darkness with you
Taglist: @savagejane1 @deadunicorn159
537 notes
·
View notes
Text
blunt force comfort — luffy & zoro
{previous chapters: nami | usopp | sanji | chopper | robin | franky | brook }
just this and jinbe's chapter left to go in this series! thank you so much to everyone who's read/liked/commented so far, it's been a while since i posted any kind of gen fic and it really means a lot that people have been so responsive to it 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
{Read on Ao3}
Rating: G Notes: takes place somewhere between fishman island and punk hazard.
~~~~~
Before the two year separation from his crew, Luffy hated taking watch, because watch was always long and boring and quiet. He wiggled out of it as much as he possibly could, and since half the time he ended up falling asleep anyway, the rest of the crew eventually just took him out of the rotation unless someone else was injured. Captain’s privileges, they called it, which Luffy knew was a nice way of sugar-coating the fact that they didn’t want him doing it anymore; but he took the out because it meant no more nights being bored out of his gourd.
So he can tell that Nami’s surprised when she’s drawing up the new rotations on their ascent from Fishman Island and Luffy asks to be included. Rayleigh told him that he needed to get more comfortable doing small things that he doesn’t like, and as annoying as it is, Luffy knows he’s right. He figures asking to be put on watch is as good a place to start as any.
“Oh, Luffy,” Nami says with a confused smile, “that’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” Luffy cuts her off. “I want to.”
She blinks at him a few times. “Um, okay. Sure.” She looks down at her chart and hums thoughtfully. “How about I put you in between Brook and Zoro?”
“Sounds great!” Luffy laughs and wraps her up in a rubber-armed hug. “Thanks Nami! You’re the best!”
He can tell she’s still confused, but she hugs him back regardless.
The night of Luffy’s watch doesn’t come until after they’ve already breached the surface and are on their way to their next destination. The moon is full and bright, the ocean calm, the breeze steady in Sunny’s sails. It’s exactly the kind of night that would have sent him straight to sleep two years ago, but now Luffy rests at his perch upon Sunny’s head, as wide-eyed and alert as he ever is. He still doesn’t like it, but he realizes now that it’s important for him to share in the crew’s menial duties, and that knowledge is enough to make it bearable.
He does wish it wasn’t quite so quiet, though. The absence of other voices leaves Luffy feeling off in a way that’s hard to describe. Like an itch under his skin that he can’t quite reach, or a hole in his chest that can’t quite be filled. Luffy breathes deeply and reaches out with his observation haki until it finds the sleeping forms of his crew mates tucked away in their beds; logically he knows that he saw everyone at dinner and there’s nowhere they could have gone since, but their presence at the edges of his senses is reassuring nonetheless, and the empty-itch feeling ebbs, just a little.
At some indeterminate point in the middle of the night, Luffy’s observation haki senses Zoro rising from his bunk and making his way to the kitchen to no doubt pilfer some booze before he heads out on deck, heading for the bow. He’s a little surprised when Zoro chucks something at him with no warning, mostly because his haki isn’t quite good enough to tell what it is until he catches it, but when he does, Luffy beams.
“Zoroooooooooooooo!” he calls, waving the leg of cured ham that the swordsman threw. “You figured out how to break into the fridge!”
“Yup,” Zoro grunts as he jumps up from the deck, landing soundlessly next to Luffy on Sunny’s head before plopping down beside him with a grunt.
“How? There must be a million combinations to that lock!”
“There’s ten thousand, and unfortunately for the cook, he’s extremely predictable,” Zoro says with a small smile; smaller than the ones he used to give, which makes Luffy’s own dim a little. He wonders how long it will be before Zoro smiles like that again. “But just so we’re clear, I’m not giving it to you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Luffy pouts. He still remembers the furious chewing out Zoro gave him that one time he ate all their food on the way to Alabasta, during which he threatened that if Luffy so much as even thought about doing something like that again, Zoro himself was going to be the one to throw him overboard. Which, in retrospect, Luffy realizes is extremely fair.
He tears into the ham leg with vigor while Zoro takes a long swig from his bottle of sake. “So how did you lose your eye?” Luffy asks around a mouthful of ham. It is approximately the hundredth time he has voiced this question, and every time so far, Zoro has shrugged him off. But he hasn’t actually been alone with his first mate since they left Sabaody, and Luffy thinks tonight might be a different story.
Sure enough, Zoro sighs and leans back on one hand, looking up at the sky. “You really wanna know?”
“Of course!”
Zoro lets out a little huff of laughter that makes Luffy grin broadly; Zoro hasn’t been laughing as much since the crew’s reunion either, and it’s good to hear it again.
“It was just a training accident,” Zoro says with a shrug. “Mihawk said he wasn’t going to hold back on me, and he didn’t. I slipped up and paid the price.”
“Aw, what?” Luffy blows a raspberry. “But that’s so boring!”
“Not everything can be an interesting story, captain,” Zoro says with a faint smirk, taking another swig from his sake.
“No, but you could pretend!” Luffy insists. “You could say—” He pitches his voice low and gravelly “—there was an army of killer bulls I had to fight to save a village full of orphans, and one of their horns got me right in the eye!”
“What the hell is with that voice?” Zoro demands. “I don’t sound like that!”
“Shishishi!” Luffy giggles. “Yeah you do! You’re all—” He drives it even lower, puffing his chest out and glaring the way Zoro does during battle “—I’m going to be the world’s greatest swords—”
He shrieks suddenly as Zoro lunges at him, wrapping one arm around his neck tightly. “Take it back!” he growls but Luffy just laughs and laughs.
“Never!”
“Alright then, you asked for it!”
Zoro drives the knuckles from his opposite hand deep into the top of Luffy’s skull, and Luffy squeals, putting up a token struggle against his brutal noogie. Or maybe not so token anymore; he can feel the new strength in Zoro’s arms where they’re wrapped around him, and Luffy thinks that if Zoro really wanted to keep him pinned down, he’d actually have to put some effort into breaking Zoro’s hold, which is saying something. The thought makes him swell with pride even as Zoro continues his assault.
“Okay, okay, I take it back!” Luffy yells, throwing his arms up and wiggling them in surrender. “Zoro doesn’t sound like that!”
“Hah!” Zoro shouts triumphantly, finally releasing him. Luffy rolls onto his back so that he’s looking up at Zoro, whose smile is at least showing some teeth now. Soon, Luffy hopes, it’ll be back to his old shit-eating grins.
He stays lying down while Zoro finishes his sake, staring up at the silver-bright moon and blanket of stars above him. “You don’t have to stay, you know,” he says after a while. “I promise I won’t fall asleep on watch anymore.”
Zoro frowns down at him. “I know that. That’s not why I came out,” he says, and Luffy blinks.
“Why then?”
Zoro shrugs, shifting his gaze to look out at the ocean while one hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck. It’s such a painfully familiar gesture that Luffy rolls over until his head is settled comfortably in Zoro’s lap, grinning widely up at him. Zoro rolls his eye, but Luffy doesn’t miss the faint upward turn at the corners of his mouth.
“I thought you might be lonely,” Zoro says, and Luffy blinks again.
“Lonely?”
“Yeah.” Zoro frowns down at him. “I know you were the one that called for the separation, but I think it must have been harder on you than any of us, losing your brother like that and then being without your crew for so long. Right?”
For a long moment, Luffy just stares up at him. Then he smiles, broad and bright as the sun.
Lonely. That’s what the empty-itch feeling is. Of course. And of course Zoro figured it out, too. Underneath his sharp, mean exterior, Zoro’s just as soft as the rest of them—maybe even softer. Luffy’s known that since he fed him a handful of onigiri scraps that had been stomped into the dirt and Zoro said to tell the little girl who made them that they were delicious, that he ate every bite.
People think Luffy picked Zoro to be his first mate because he’s strong. He didn’t; that’s just a bonus. The real reason Luffy picked him is because Zoro cares.
“Yeah,” he says with a small nod. “I was.”
“Then I’ll stay,” Zoro says with a shrug, like it’s not a big deal, even though it is. It’s always a big deal, whenever Zoro tries to help.
That’s what Luffy thinks, anyway.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
#2 - Hulk - Oneshot (Pipe Game Series)
Pairing: Hulk (Bruce Banner) x Giantess!Reader
Summary: Hulk comes back from fighting in the arena and you couldn’t help but get turned on by his performance. Unfortunately, he takes “Hulk Smash” a little too literally.
Warning: Kind of awkward smut, dubcon, rough sex, hulk’s fat girthy cock, sex positive reader, unrealistic cervix fucking, pissing/piss kink, painful sex, accidental/surprise orgasm, slight somnophilia, size difference, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN
A/N: Keep in mind that there is no Bruce in this fic. It’s strictly Hulk in this one. Comic fans, y’all know they are NOT the same person like the movies try to make it so really, they should be in different tags but whatever. Unfortunately, the rating was 5/10 but I personally think he’d be a 9/10 just on size alone 🤤. Reader is sex positive Is that coded for whore? Maybe lmao. Don’t be offended as I am a proud whore myself and is also a giantess (when compared to other species). Kind of like Bilquis from ‘American Gods’. If you know you know 😏. I took this one too far and a bit off track but I am pent tf up sexually so please be easy on me lol.
PG Chapters: Tony //
Based on this post.
https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchbaby300/pseuds/theblackestvalkyrie
The crowd was electric. Their enthusiastic cries and cheers echoed throughout the arena rising and falling with the wins and losses of warriors as they fought for their lives in the arena. On any other night, you’d be on the prowl looking for someone to bed or drink with but tonight was different. The new champion was fighting tonight.
You licked your lips at the thought as you watched his enormous green figure leap around and smash through the opponents put in front of him. He had hardly debuted and fought just a handful of times but ‘The Incredible Hulk’, as he was introduced before fights, was someone who was quickly making a name for himself.
The Hulk wouldn’t be the first champion you had approached sexually but judging by how thick he was all around; he might just be the last. You couldn’t contain your sexually charged thoughts as you watched him from the seat of your aircraft hovering above the arena.
Tonight would be the night you would make your move. You had been planning and plotting the entire week while also remaining celibate. Going without sex for a week while not ideal, would be doable but that one week stretched into a month as your schedules never seemed to align. But tonight the stars aligned. You had no scheduled fights and Hulk only had one match scheduled. So, you suffered through the entire thing squirming with legs crossed and slightly out of breath from just watching Hulk fight. Your clit mashed desperately against the seat, pelvis tilting back and forth in wanton desire.
You gripped the steering wheel to stop yourself from shoving your fingers where you needed them the most. The fight predictably ended in Hulk’s favor with the crowd and the Grandmaster going wild. Waiting was the hardest part. It would take some time for him to make his way back to his quarters which gave you plenty of time to land, park, and make your way to his room. You arrived just a few minutes after he entered his apartment you didn’t bother knocking. There was no privacy on Sakaar.
The red and white theme of the room just screamed Hulk. Trophies, both gifted and taken from his opponents by force, littered the floor and made up what little furniture he had. His room even had a full bar of high-end quality liquors and other mind-altering beverages on a fully stocked cabinet.
The Grandmaster's favoritism was blatantly obvious.
There he sat, a warm washcloth draped over his face, arms draped across his heated bathing pool, not a care in the world. You let your eyes trace downward towards his muscular thick chest and the sparse dark chest hair growing there trailing down his abdomen and obscured by the water.
In an effort to make yourself fully known, you let your footsteps become louder making more noise. Immediately he sat up alert and uncovered his eyes watching you like a predator. You and Hulk had never interacted up close but had seen each other in passing so were familiar yet complete strangers to each other.
“You did so well tonight, Hulk. I wanted to help you relax after such a hard job. Will you let me help you? Will you let me be your tool?”
Silence sat between you both as Hulk tilted his head in deep contemplation. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as his dark eyes pierced right through you.
“Hulk owns you?”
You could have come on the spot at his response. This was better than you could imagine. He must have thought you were one of the contracted sex workers the Grandmaster employed, and why wouldn’t he when you showed up with no underwear, a sheer bodycon dress, and zero inhibitions? Having a sexual tryst for a night was good but having someone sexually own you was a new level to you entirely.
“Yes.” No hesitation on your part.
“Strip.” A forceful command that left no room for argument.
You eagerly shed the thin soft fabric of your dress letting it pool around your feet. You could feel his eyes roaming your body studying your perky hard nipples and the intricate design of your pubic hair.
“Come” He gestured waving a wet hand out of the water and splashing water around without a care in the world for the surroundings. The first steps up to the pool were nerve-racking. While he made no move up to come to you, you could see him shifting around in anticipation.
It only made you more excited at the fact that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
Once you were fully into the warm pool the water settled above your belly button leaving your breasts dry and fully on display. You stopped a little shorter than an arm’s length in front of Hulk wondering if this was too close. It was almost comical to be worried about personal space when you entered his room without permission on the basis of fucking his brains out.
Hulk’s hand rose out of the water and cupped your right breast in shameless desire. He looked to be studying your chest like he had never seen a pair before caressing them with a gentleness that betrayed his size. A sweet silence settled between you two as you enjoyed his soft touch but at some point, you started getting tired of the sweetness.
You wanted to get fucked through the floor.
In a move of pure seduction, you slipped a hand under the water and straight to his cock stroking smoothly thanks to the lubrication of the pool.
Your fingers brushed the fat mushroom head as you took in his size. The head was hot even under the warm water and you struggled to wrap your fingers around it. His entire length measured from the tips of your fingers to the end of your elbow and then some. So many nights of struggling because you were a giantess. Nights of accidentally killing men unlucky enough to get sucked up into you during sex and men too scared to partake after hearing the rumors. It all lead to this glorious moment.
Hulk took his cue from you and slipped his fingers between your legs as well just discovering and exploring to his heart's content.
“You a virgin big guy?” You purred squeezing his length lightly.
“Maybe.” He huffed, half in annoyance half in arousal.
You giggled wrapping your other hand around what you couldn’t reach with the other hand still pumping him but adding a little twist to your wrist.
“Will you let me take care of you?”
He nodded and that was all you needed. Apparently, this was all he needed before standing in the deep pool. The water glistened and rolled off his muscles and down his happy trail to the deep v- cut of his pelvis exposing him in all his glory.
Your mouth started watering at the sight of his curved length. It was even better than anything your imagination could conjure up.
His weeping cock head spread precum along your cheek and lips as Hulk prodded your mouth open with his member.
“You suck me.”
You were granted a few seconds to take in all his splendor up close before his swollen head was banging on the back of your throat in inexperienced thrusts. Even with your hands gripping his hips in a death drip didn’t slow him down and you doubted much would deter him from the warmth of your throat.
You could feel your vision going spotty the darkness calling you and you flailed in panic a little. Hulk pulled himself from your throat and you gasped and coughed for breath ignoring the way the mix of saliva and precum dripped down your chin and throat obscenely.
Hulk lifted you over his shoulder and lumbered out of the pool to his trophy bed smacking your ass once and then dumping you on the bed saturating the sheets from your soaking wet bodies.
Unceremoniously he split your legs wide and ground his bloated cock tip into you bumping the nose of your clit and sliding back between your slick lips to your taint and back up again. Sawing back and forth in slow calculated movements.
Back and forth.
Back.
And.
Forth.
“We fuck now.”
He wasn’t even looking at your face but between your legs at his lewd movements. It was like you weren’t even in the room.
Yes please.” You squealed gripping the sheets in anticipation.
He moved then splitting your vaginal opening bigger than your fist. The stretching burned like nothing you had ever felt and you wondered in the back of your mind if this was how giving birth felt.
“Please wait…...Too big… Please….”
He ignored you and continued to push past any tight resistance living up to his title as champion and hit the opening of your cervix. You cried out as his thick girth split you immediately regretting ever approaching Hulk. Thankfully Hulk had enough thought to stop when he hit the doors of your cervix.
His large green hands gripped your hips and overlapped around your smaller figure. You might have been bigger than everyone you came across but Hulk made you feel small this very moment.
The room filled with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy getting hammered all you could do was spread your legs and hold on. You couldn’t keep up with his pace and the fact that it was bringing equal parts pain and pleasure confused you yet brought a feral arousal like you had never known.
“Gods, slow the fuck down!”
Your flailing was starting to annoy Hulk so he pinned you down with his arms and whole body pressing you into the mattress breathing into the side of your face.
“Don’t fight it.”
Babbling in delirium as he worked you over on his shaft like a cock sleeve with reckless abandon. Again the fat tip of his cock was banging at the doors of your cervix nudging you open with every hit. You were helpless to stop him from taking what he wanted.
You could feel the beginning strings of your orgasm knotting up and building. You couldn’t even form words. Falling over the edge with a sob you could feel yourself releasing liquid all over the bed.
Holy shit you just pissed yourself.
You didn’t even have a chance to catch your breath or feel embarrassed as you continued to piss all over the Hulk yet this did nothing to deter him. In fact, it incensed his primal urges and made him go harder smacking into you at a bruising pace as he chased his climax.
Another orgasm hit you by surprise making your vision spotty. Your tightening walls were all the Hulk needed to slam past the opening of your cervix filling it with the swollen crown of his cock and continuing to pump into you sloppily as he came. Drooling into the sheets you faded into a blissed-out darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coming to, the first thing you could sense was the wet squelching of your pussy still getting fucked. Unable to do anything but watch yourself get fucked in the reflection of the window. Fucking against the window so everyone can see. The Hulk growled possessively into your neck as he came into your stretched-out cervix with a groan.
“Mine…….Mine….”
229 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello, I know I haven't been here in a hot minute, which translates to like a full year give or take. Burn out, depression, anxiety, and the loss of technically two spleens will do that to a person.
But beyond that I am back to squeal about the episode thats been in all our minds, episode 8 of murder drones! So spoilers ahead.
Omg omg omg space! I mean I was hyped from episode 7 because of Uzi ending up in space. And space is a special interest and hyperfixation of mine. But the fact that Glitch went all out with the details, makes me so incredibly happy!
Like aaaaaaaaa there's no sound when they're in it, or the spaceship is broken making the space come in! That detail made me kick my feet so hard.
The whole spaceship causing so much force
And don't forget about that burning falling scene!
The fact that the entire cast is robots hit me so hard, cause none of them had to worry about breathing, in fact them interacting with space, gravity acting wonky, etc. I love it, I have a new favorite thing I want to see more of.
Also new favorite thing
Cyn piloting Tessa like a flesh puppet. Like her ankle legits twists and it gets repaired in a split second, holy hell it's horrifying but I love it! She even fucking bleeds and tries to lick her own blood.
Also J! She knew! She knew Tessa was Cyn! She went along cause she thought it was inevitable, she thought you couldn't win against that force!
That whole fight where they're having to fight not only Cyn but the illusions she conjures? Amazing. The nightcore being explained in universe by being on an mp3, hilarious.
Also Uzi is now the new host for the absolute solver, and that eye palette makes her look so frigging cool, I have a new design piece I wanna add to my characters now.
They also get to go back to a kind of normal life, and that's sweet. Yes their world is very fucked because of Cyn, but it's not unlivable for them. They are able to survive and go on. They get to watch shows together
While I didn't predict Uzi and N ending up dating each other. I legit don't mind, they're cute together and balance each other out in the immense amount of horror happening to them.
Also Uzi giving her tail a voice, only for Cyn later to be that voice? Foreshadowing I wasn't expecting? Yeah alright that's pretty cool ngl
All in all, I'm glad I got to watch this show. Even if I never finished my breaking down of the episodes, I still got to theorize and watch this amazing show to its conclusion. Plus now that's its ended, I can finally make ocs for it, because I tend to stray away from series that are ongoing for a couple reasons. I think a slice of life for the aftermath would be entertaining to make lol
#murder drones#murder drones spoilers#murder drones episode 8#murder drones ep 8#tw horror#tw injury
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Queen of Nothing
!!SPOILER WARNING!!
All of Jude’s hard work in the shadows and in the light comes to a conclusion in the finale of her’s and Cardan’s epic story. From the beginning the plot was non-stop…from fighting Grima Mog, to sneaking back into Elfhame as Taryn, and finally the culmination of Madoc’s treason against the crown. I combed through this book so quickly because it felt like new information was revealed or things changed so quickly with every turn of the page. My already favorite characters got even better, and characters I didn’t necessarily like before had growth that made them more bearable. Though, I’ll admit…I don’t care that Taryn killed Locke and is pregnant, she is still very selfish and didn’t fully redeem herself in my eyes. One of my favorite parts was having Jude and Cardan finally address their feelings for each other in full honesty. These two are so hopeless when it comes to love, but it makes them as a couple so endearing. The cruel boy who didn’t know what love looked like, and the mortal girl who was forced to grow in a harsher world…it makes sense they have difficulty showing their true feelings. The way everything came to a conclusion was not something I could have predicted. I figured that Madoc would try and bring war to Elfhame for the crown, but I was not expecting that Cardan’s breaking of the crown would turn him into a giant snake. Nor the way things would work out in the end for everyone. Madoc has got to be one of the best written antagonists I’ve seen. His actions are questionable, but his motives are endearing and understandable. Though I do also see selfishness in him too from his decisions, much like Taryn. Overall, this conclusion was a masterpiece. I have truly grown to love this series and will miss this story and characters, but I am glad to now know it fully.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Arena chapter 8
Click here for the rest of the series!
Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
Chapter 8
…and Garth insisted they would be home in a month—she’d been here five weeks already…
I seriously have no idea where that month-long prediction is coming from.
And and [sic] she was tired and frustrated…
Editors, where art thou?
The Arena had no moon, and Manderia had no electricity. So where was the light coming from? The Gate? […] The Gate was breathtaking. Its bright, clear radiance shimmered against the velvet night. Now blue, now gold, now silver, it flowed with intertwined rivers of light that waxed and waned and waxed again. Pierced anew by the inexplicable longing, she ached to be near it, to touch it, to feel its glory on her face. We intend this for your benefit, Alex had said. For the first time she could almost believe it was true.
The author would have been less subtle if she’d whacked us upside the head with a chair.
“So are you thinking of signing up with Mander?” “Thinking of it.” Chills flooded her. “Don’t tell me you believe the Manderians are right.” “Okay.” Confused into silence, Callie toyed with the straw at her feet. “I hear it’s not unpleasant,” he added after a time. “But the manual doesn’t say anything about terms of indenture.” “No.” “So it’s got to be fraudulent.” “Only if you believe the manual.”
In my personal opinion, if you have to do work with some organisation in order to be accepted into heaven (go through the gate), then you’re probably being scammed. Simply be a good person. That’s it. That’s the goal. And I know that “being nice” doesn’t exactly make for a good story. But gestures broadly at 8 chapters of this book Neither does this.
“Has it occurred to you,” he said, “that they might not intend for us to leave?” “Then why put us here?”
Has it occurred to you… THAT THOSE ALIENS ARE FUCKING PSYCHOTIC?!
“You’re too new to know how they play with us, offer us hope only to snatch it away.” “Those are pretty grim thoughts, Pierce.”
I’m sorry, did you somehow miss how aliens kidnapped you and are now forcing you to remain here? “You can leave at any time!” they’d promised you, knowing full well that said escape is literally impossible.
For a long time afterward she sat staring at the living Gate and the dark cliff and the sleeping city, wondering, come morning, what she was going to do.
Chapter 8 summary: Callie joins the others in the tavern-inn for a while, but eventually gets fed up listening to the others talk about their grand plans. Much like everything else here, they’re only going to the inner part of the arena simply on a prayer that the rumours of the trogs having access to earth are true. She goes outside, with the intention of hiding out in the barn. But there’s people getting busy in one of the stalls, and the noise is making her uncomfortable. So she decides to go up to the loft… Which yes! 100% sound-proof, for some unholy reason?! Anyway, Pierce is up there, too. At first, Callie sits at the window and looks out at the glowing gate, which is something akin to the moon. Then she and Pierce start to talk about the temple. He says that he’s thinking about joining. Callie expresses that the manual said nothing about indentured servitude in order to escape the arena. However, Pierce is quick to point out that when Callie’s own manual was finally snatched by the mites that crave the ink from it… She did nothing to get it back. She’s now on team “this is fucking worthless”. So who knows what the actual truth is. Or why the aliens are doing all of this. Pierce goes to sleep. Callie sits up and contemplates what her next move should be.
#Arena by Karen Hancock#bookblr#book review#YA novel#action adventure#dystopia#scifi novel#Christian literature#religious novel
0 notes
Text
Alex Recommends: September Books
As predicted, things have got super busy at work. The initial very quiet, slow couple of months are over and the students are back in full force! The good thing is that I feel equipped to answer a lot of things that they ask, which is awesome. I'm not sure how I'd have coped starting the job while this onslaught of enquiries bombarded me all the time. So, having that quiet summer to learn everything was really beneficial.
I have also finished and submitted my MA dissertation! Naturally, this month has been full of long evenings writing the concluding chapters and round after round of edits. I'm pretty happy with the final version and I do think it's as good as it was ever going to be. I guess now it's just a waiting game to see how I did! I'm right on the border of a Merit and a Distinction, so this dissertation really REALLY matters. Scary stuff.
Mark has begun his first ever teaching job. I'm so proud of him because he seems to be acing it so far. He has his own Year 7 form class, which he'll have throughout their time in the school. Getting to see them grow up and progress through their teen years must be such a rewarding part of teaching. It's a really tough job though, so I'll do my best to look after him.
I have read some amazing books this month and I'm excited to share them with you here. From whimsical romance to extreme horror, it's a real mixed bag this month. Of course, not all of these will be for you but these monthly posts always try to provide a variety of genres. I guess I'm lucky I have such a wide reading taste, so I can let you guys know about a little bit of everything. Until next month, enjoy!
-Love, Alex x
FICTION: The Last Devil To Die by Richard Osman.

The Thursday Murder Club have received some terrible news. An old friend has been killed and something he was guarding has gone missing. Throughout their investigation, the gang come up against drug dealers, art forgers and internet criminals. Can they solve the case and get justice for their friend? The fourth and final instalment in this wonderfully British cosy mystery series was possibly my favourite. The mystery itself was really gripping and there were a lot of clever schemes going on that really made me smile. These characters are so loveable and I'll miss them so much. The humour in these books is very British, which is why I think this series is less popular in other countries but I adore it. The finale features some lovely themes of friendship (as all of these books do) and the importance of persevering love as well as grief and the fragility of life. Pretty emotional but a wonderful way to wrap up the series.
ROMANCE: The Seven Year Slip by Ashley Poston.

Clementine is guarding her heart against pain, when she discovers a strange man in her recently deceased aunt's apartment. He's handsome, kind and loves to cook and Clementine knows that there was a time when she would have fallen for him. But he lives seven years in the past and Clementine lives seven years in his future. Her aunt always said there was something odd about the place and Clementine knows that she definitely cannot fall in love this time. I really loved The Dead Romantics by Ashley Poston and I'd heard great things about this one. It is a very unique love story with a sweet clean romance. As you can probably tell from the nature of the story, it's very emotionally charged. There is also obviously a mystery around the magic that enables the time slip and that adds to the intrigue of the otherwise simple story. There is a repeated motif of love being all about getting the timing right and that's a sentiment that I can fully get on board with. A really lovely, intricate romance.
MIDDLE-GRADE: Alice Éclair Spy Extraordinaire: A Sprinkling of Danger by Sarah Todd Taylor.

The young baker turned spy, Alice's latest case sees her on a movie set at the Palace of Versailles. Big national secrets are being leaked by someone on set and it's Alice's mission to find out who. This is the third book in this fun, action-packed series and I'm still really enjoying it. This instalment features an engaging mystery with lots of intrigue and shady characters. These books are a fantastic introduction to the genre for children -Alice has an air of a young Miss Marple. There are also plenty of delicious baked goods in these books too!
HORROR: Maeve Fly by C. J. Leede.

Maeve Fly works at the happiest place in the world, portraying everyone's favourite ice princess but she also hangs out in LA bars, under the influence of misanthropic literary anti-heroes. When her best friend's brother moves to town, something within Maeve changes and she decides to evolve into something dark, dangerous and bloodthirsty. I haven't read a lot of extreme horror but I'm not averse to it. I spent my teens reading Stephen King, so gore on some level has always been present in most of the horror that I've read. I really need to warn you that Maeve Fly is full of extreme graphic horror, so if you're not OK with that, this book is not for you. Maeve is a very tragic but intriguing heroine. It is actually quite funny in some places -the scene where she tortures someone brutally while screeching along to Let It Go made me laugh. Uncomfortably obviously but it was still amusing. I really liked how the book exposed the dark side of the happiest place in the world (Disney) and I'd actually like to read more books that do that. The ending was a sad one but there was also a sense that Maeve could change her ways again. Strictly only for those with strong stomachs but much more digestible than American Psycho, which it does pay homage to.
THRILLER: None Of This Is True by Lisa Jewell.

Alix and Josie are both celebrating their 45th birthdays in a local pub. It turns out they were actually both born in the same hospital too. When they meet again a few days later, Josie tells Alix that she wants to appear on Alix's podcast, as she feels like her life is about to change. Although she finds Josie quite odd, Alix agrees. As their conversations develop, Alix realises that Josie's life is full of dark secrets and Josie has now fully embedded herself in Alix's home and life. But then she disappears and Alix realises that somehow, both she and her family are now in danger. I am a huge fan of Lisa Jewell and will always read whatever she writes. I devoured this book and simply couldn't put it down. It's a thoroughly gripping, twisty thriller and I still didn't know what the truth was at the end! Josie was a very fascinating creepy character and I thought the plotting was so clever and intricate. I can imagine the pinboard absolutely covered in string criss-crossing everywhere during the planning for this one! A highly compelling page-turner that even seasoned thriller readers may be shocked by.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Got to vent about the X-files. Would not read i a die hard fan...
It is overreacted. Sure maybe cuz I am watching it 20 years after the fact but….ugh.
I like it. It is like twilight zone in the 90s. But there is SO MUCH FUCKING WASTED TIME. HOURS over the years that add up to…waiting for them to do something.
No joke, I have gotten so used to their predictable (made for tv commercials) format, until the last ½ of the show, I can just have it playing in the background, listening, and I won’t miss anything important because the dialogue is almost the ONLY important aspect.
The special effects are cheap. ESPCIALLY the first couple seasons. The make up looked like it was done by high schoolers. You could see the glue, the bad fade between colors, etc. So watching for a monster scare usually ain’t fucking worth it.
And that’s ALL this show is: jump scares. I only keep watching cuz the plots/storylines are USUALLY solid. But to get there is 90%: looking at something, walking thru something, driving to something, slowly turning a corner at something, etc. It’s all hold your breath and either something scary or something that is NOTHING happen.
The acting is just one step (one TINY step) above a soap opera. I have no fucking idea how david D got and kept this job (kidding-he became a producer & writer. That’s how many of them keep this shit show going. Also found that’s why he left for so long-he wasn’t getting paid for also writing he claims). But after he leaves, it actually gets fucking worse! No joke, because of how bad everyone is after mulder leaves, not only are season 8 and 9 so far the worst things this show has EVER produced (so many plot holes and bad logics almost BREAK this series’ heart), but…I actually want him back? Ew. But the show was better when it was mulder and scully. Not fucking t2 bad guy & some mulder lady wanna be, with scully checking in for the paycheck.
I just have a rule when it comes to this shit. Most tv shows before digital were written explicitly to get 100 episodes (can’t get good rerun money till 100 is hit), keep people invested and watching (even if NOTHING is fucking happening) and always hit that 44:44 run time. So subtract anything that makes you go over and put in filler (ANY) to get to that time. Put in filler they did. I would say 1/5 of each episode is. And….hold your breath moment/traveling moments/investigating moments when ALL they are doing is looking around IS NOT WRITING, IS NOT INTERESTING, and is fucking lazy. HOW this show won awards is beyond me. Maybe cuz I watched it well after it aired but…this feels like the bare minimum of quality, not the max. I guess they didn’t have much competition in the 90s…
I will finish the series, and I don’t regret watching it. There are enough episodes with twists, turns, and I didn’t see that comings to make it worthwhile. The bare minimum I ask for is to be surprised, and this show usually turns that out. But…seasons 8 & 9 (ain’t looking forward to 10 & 11, tho I know mulder does come back) are what I would feel if someone was given all the past lore of the x-files, forced to use 2 new characters that…have no real depth, and said ‘make it as good as it was before.’ NO. You are giving me nothing to work with besides a budget; you ain’t giving me time or more writers. Ugh.
Twilight zone was way better tho. Their Special effects (for the time) were ASTOUNDING. And to this day (like x-files, I will admit) there are clear as day shows/movies totally stolen from these series. In the first….3-4 seasons of the x-files, swear to god there were at least….5 movies that I KNOW were heavily influenced if not outright stolen from the x-files. Nothing is original. Cuz a lot of these x-files were, go figured, based on the twilight zone. THAT is a series I need to watch in full. But I think they had even more episodes than x files….
Either way: X-files is solid sci fi, but with so much filler, and it going to shit after season 7, they honestly should have let it die…
I just want a sci fi/horror/thriller not to be majority hold your breath moments. They’re way too fucking easy, predictable (either something happens or nothing happens. Ain’t no fence on this one), and rarely add. I mean, seriously, how long are jump scares going to be scary? Especially when you see them coming…fuck it. Now I want to do the opposite: make a movie consisting ONLY of jump scares. But I heard that’s the conjuring so….
0 notes
Text
July 2023 Reading Wrap-Up
Total books read: 6
Total pages read: 2,048
Days read: 24/31
Average star rating: 4.46/5
Challenge Prompts Filled: 8 in July; 74 total. Popsugar: 1(24)/40. Romanceopoly: 4 (22)/36. CRAD: 1(7)/12. BTBL: 2(21)/52
Mini-reviews under the cut!
Christmas Angels by Nancy Naigle ⭐⭐⭐(½) What a way to kick off Christmas in July reading! I wanted something that would read with Hallmark movie vibes, and this was PERFECT. Big city exec moves to a small town and takes over the family inn? Where she hires a handsome construction man to help get it ready for open? Sign me UP. It was funny, it was light hearted, merry and bright, and gave me warm fuzzy emotions in just the right places. I loved the motif with the angels coming up with a sort of spiritual reverence, but still finding a logical, yet meaningful closure at the end. Very cute, very sweet, made me want to give up my corporate hospitality job and go buy a tiny mountain lodge of my own.
Prompts filled: BTBL – Cozy read or cover; Romanceopoly – Winter/cover is blue, black or silver; or winter holiday book
The Christmas Wedding Guest by Susan Mallery ⭐⭐⭐⭐(½) I meant to get to this one back at the holidays, and I’m SO glad I finally made the time now. As usual, Susan Mallery hits it out of the park, this time with an added boost of holiday spirit! It’s a double romance – rockstar/small town girl and teacher/parent, two EXCELLENT tropes. I think it’s supposed to kick off her new series, and I can’t wait to see what else comes of the worldbuilding. There are a few characters I’m already eyeing for hopeful plots in the next stories. And yes, again, there’s a hotel at the holidays involved. What can I say? I have a type.
Prompts filled: BTBL – All the romance; Romanceopoly – Autumn/red or green cover; or has trees and leaves on the cover; or has a cozy vibe
Home for Christmas by Camille Isley ⭐⭐⭐ ⭐ ⭐ No hotel this time, but still lots of holiday travel! This was laugh out loud funny, sweet, romantic, grumpy, sunshine-y and everything in between. I blew through it in like three days and have already downloaded two other books by the same author. We love a writer romance, and a not-quite-only-one-bed, but definitely not enough beds forced proximity setup. This one was different than I usually read too, because not ONLY was there a romance budding, but family dynamics fitting together right out of the gate. It’s a predictable plot, but as we know, sometimes that’s exactly what I want. Give me a prank war with a guaranteed happy ending and lots of Christmas merriment, and I am a happy camper.
Prompts filled: Popsugar – A book that was self-published
A Very Merry Bromance by Lissa Kay Adams ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Listen. I knew I would like this one. Anyone who’s listened to me talk about my taste in books probably knew I would like this one. And I LOVED it. Bromance Book Club is possibly the best series I’ve read in a long time, and this one is right in line with the rest of them. It’s funny, it’s sweet, it’s … I mean, the romance goes without saying, but it’s romantic. And this one is Christmassy too, which just makes things better. It’s so fun reading not only the Bromance stories, but the little snippets of the stories the guy are reading throughout the book, but as usual my one regret is that those books don’t exist in full. I’d read the CRAP out of them. As it is, I’ve been thinking about Colton and Gretchen even DAYS after I finished the book. 15/10 recommended to anyone who’s looking for something bright and fun and festive, with just enough emotion to bring tears to your eyes, and always, ALWAYS a big gesture before the happy ending.
Prompts filled: None, I just really wanted to read it!
Christmas at the Island Hotel by Jenny Colgan ⭐⭐⭐ (¾) A last minute pick, designed to fit the CRAD prompt for the month. I own many Christmas books, but as it turns out, all of them are set here in the US. Ended up with this one as an eBook from the library, following some very specific search parameters. It was … alright, and I enjoyed almost every minute of reading it, but it’s not something I think I’d choose to read again. Generally I’m more romance, less women’s fiction, but this book was definitely more women’s fiction than romance. And sure, it’s good to read outside my comfort zone – and this was a good story, without a doubt – but I found myself frustrated a couple of times when it felt like the author was dancing around the romantic elements. The relationships are there, a couple of them are hinted at, but I would have liked to see them fleshed out a little further. That said, Isla and Konstantin are definitely one of the cutest relationship arcs I’ve read in a hot minute. I just wish the other pairings had gotten a little bit of that depth too.
Prompts filled: Romanceopoly – Post Office/set in a different country to where you live; CRAD July – set in a different country or world [to June]
The Christmas Wager by Holly Cassidy ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Alright, full disclosure: I technically finished this at like 1 a.m. on 1 August. But I hadn’t gone to bed yet, and the day isn’t over until I go to sleep, and I would have been done earlier if half a dozen things had gone differently over the weekend. And it was good enough for me to stay up past midnight, running on like three hours of sleep. Of all the books I read this month, it’s definitely top two (and that’s up with some tough competition). I loved the fun, silly competitions, and the heartwarming family dynamics. This book would make an EXCELLENT movie; I could picture so many of the scenes playing out clearly inside my head. It read just like a romance novel should, from start to end, and I’m already eager to find more of the author’s work to read in the future!
Prompts filled: Romanceopoly – Library/free choice
0 notes
Text
Anime Update V2 53
Tokyo Magnitude 8.0 - Wasn’t much feeling this one. The focus being on Mari isn’t quite as interesting as when it’s on Mirai, I guess.
Hunter x Hunter - Kite revealed he’s got a whole research team working with him as they, Gon and Killua along with them, start looking into the recent strange activities by the Chimera Ants. And oh boy do we learn more about them! This dumb kid named Kurt and his little sister get abducted, killed, and eaten by the ants and it’s through this that the Queen has developed a taste for humans. Spawning not just new ants but beast men who take on the features of whatever she consumed to spawn them, including Kurt now reborn as the winged “Colt”, the Queen is demanding more humans to feast upon!
Fruits Basket - The famed episode with the school play, titled “It’s Cinderella-ish!” (the episode AND the play itself) was both every bit as gloriously off-the-walls and entertaining as promised and also a bit of a letdown since the play lasts for only half the episode when I’d have rather it carried on for most of it, I was enjoying it so much. Not to say the content we got after the play was bad, but it inevitably fades from memory in comparison to what we saw in the first half.
Re:ZERO - Another set of three episodes, these ones covering the big chase and fight against the gluttonous White Whale that Subaru initiates by finally putting all the knowledge he gained from previous loops of trial and error to the best use, sucessfully negotiating with both the Crusch and Anastasia camps and uniting their forces to valiantly hunt the whale even at risk of all its horrors. In particular, Wilhelm van Astrea plays the Captain Ahab role when it’s revealed he lost his wife, the realm’s previous Swordsmaster, to the whale and has long yearned for vengeance and closure. This backstory sort of comes out of left field and it is impressive how much I gave a damn about Wilhelm here, it’s so well done in selling to you that all of these people have their own lives and own stories regardless of what Subaru does or does not know about them. Seeing Subaru actually figthing smarter and braving the odds against his own weakness, and that being a source of inspiration for others, was so satisfying. He’s actually growing up and doing better now! And how in the end he earned the respect of Crush and Wilhelm really warmed my heart.
Speaking of heartwarming - Rem! Yeah, last time I’d said I was not keen on how Rem’s feelings of love for Subaru got set up despite the payoff being specatacular, if semi-lacking. But now that said payoff has come and gone, Rem and Subaru get to settle into the sort of relationship they’ll be having from here on out, and it could not be more delightful. I love not only how selfless Rem’s love is but how comfortable she is with loving, protecting, fighting alongside, and simping for a guy she knows full well isn’t going to return her exact feelings and satisfy her romantically. It sets such a good precedent for Subaru himself to follow whenever he gets back with Emilia, and makes Rem very reliable as a sidekick. Subaru is truly blessed!
Fate/Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works - At the part where at school after hours, Rin finally makes her move to try and kill Shirou herself only for them to end up helping each other in an encounter with Rider outside, forcing another armistace between the two.
Symphogear GX - Just as I’d predicted, Maria wants to fight alongside Tsubasa and the others, and she’s taking this as an out for her forced continous idol career. Also learned more about how Carol does alchemy, how her doll underlings and the Alcanoise are made from it, and why her clone homuculus Elfnein defected from her - Carol seeks to complete some sort of super weapon to destroy the world! Hibiki is starting to get on my nerves in this series with her sudden “I don’t want to use these cool powers and arsenal to fight anyone anymore!” pacifism, but at least the episode gave me ever more Kirika and Shirabe goodness to offset this. Anything else? ...Oh. Oh yeah. The beef stroganoff song. What. even. WAS THAT?
Eureka Seven - Cracks are already beginning to show in Renton’s new life with Gekko State. He’s made to do chores he’s not used to doing, no one takes him that seriously, Holland ignores him, Talho is a busybody towards him, and he’s not even informed when he has to carry a box with a smuggled human organ! To be fair, he brings much of it on himself at this point in time and having absurd notions like that the little kids Eureka looks after might be her actual biological children does him no favors. Matthieu proves to be a really nice guy and I’m glad to have him, though Kirk Thornton voicing a black guy is something unthinkable in this day and age, so it’s a nice sort of time capsule effect. On the sidelines, the united federation council decide they’ll grant Dewey Novak freedom from prison and get him back in a position of leadership within the military. Real solid idea there, guys!
Gintama - Something about Shinpachi’s estranged childhood friend showing up as a member of a bike gang only he’s still just as bullied as he used to be, Odd Jobs fighting with the bike gang, and a big wacky race against the gang leader where it all came down to him VS Shinpachi, and Otae was also there being funny and awesome as always. Another silly episode but one that works surprisingly well as character development for Shinpachi too. Gintama can do both!
0 notes
Text
Below (Rewrite) Wrap-Up
In response to that prediction I jotted down in the pre-reading thoughts, I do have to say, the writing in this second draft of Below did, in fact, show remarkable growth compared to the first. It did lead to a significantly less wild, and ultimately less fun, read, without the wild narration being given its full reign to use words like 'oi!' or throw insane contradictions between every other sentence.
But the writing in this draft took on a much calmer perspective than its predecessor's angry Kristen, deepened the angst of Raevin, and gave a little more space for Lea, Ben, and Nick to show off.
Despite largely following the same trajectory of the first draft's plot, it also introduced us to a new character, Max (whose powers we NEVER LEARN, I need to point out). Apparently, having one love triangle simply was not enough, and Kristen had to have boys fighting over her in addition to fighting with another girl over a boy. Oy vey.
For drafts like this, drafts that were never finished, I'm going to include an extra little section to either wrap-up the plot or explain things that would've come after what I wrote out.
Beyond the Draft
Most of the plot continues in the same vein as we saw in draft 1. They run to find a more comfortable distance between themselves and the Institute and Mr. J. Ultimately have a showdown with Mr. J in some type of warehouse/funhouse situation, in which he's injured and sent out of commission for a time, opening the chance for the teens to flee.
The significant difference here is that Max... IS ALIVE. His character arc follows as sort of an anti-Raevin, being convinced by Mr. J's ideas of supremacy after his friends leave him for dead and agreeing to hunt them down for retribution. His eventual reveal (idk if it was meant to be in book 1 or 2, or even 3, but it was going to happen eventually!) would bring a lot of conflict and guilt to Kristen's already-overflowing plate.
Since this book was meant to be the first of a trilogy, I have a very basic rundown of each book in the series.
Book 1: Introducing the different forces at play - Institute (oppressive force), Mr. J (looks to solve oppression by creating oppression) and the Teens (oppressed and fighting back). Teens seek a comfortable distance from the others.
Book 2: More focus on the Teens themselves and crafting actual goals. Ideas about how long they can run and looking to maybe face off against their pursuers. Meeting other mutants, building a circuit opposed to the Institute, mostly focused on eliminating the imminent threat of Mr. J and his scouts.
Book 3: Pulling together their now-growing forces to contend with the Institute. Involves both literal fighting and whistleblowing to the public at large. Mostly vibes, never got around to plotting much of it bc, alas, I was a dedicated Pantser.
Strengths
Genre: I believe that, despite its definitely requiring probably a dozen more drafts before it would ever become something to release into the world, 'Below' does follow in step with the books that would've inspired it. I mean, in 2012, we were seeing releases for the Divergent trilogy, for Mortal Instruments, for Matched, for The Selection, The Lunar Chronicles, so many big YA series at the time. Not to sit here and compare Below to even the worst among these, quality-wise, but I think a lot of its foundations do line up with the ultimate aim I had for the series. Badass teenagers escaping from unlikely scenarios, organizing against The System, and, yes, love triangles. The book is quintessentially 2012 YA.
Weaknesses
Repetitive: I feel like this story could've been told in half the amount of words that it took. So many instances of them sitting around planning, without actual discussion of a plan. So many instances of Raevin hating her 'coworkers' and Mr. J and sitting in a tree. So many instances of the whole group deciding to hang out in a field. Not that there shouldn't be downtime in a novel, not that there was no merit to the conversations they were having, but the plot got stretched real thin during a lot of these 61.5K words.
Final (Written) Line
"I'll have you know I'm always alone!"
Live Reactions
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

November 2012: Below (Rewrite)
Wordcount | 61,500 Status | Incomplete Draft, Retired
First Line
I knew I was in the middle of a dream.
Changes Between Drafts
It'd feel silly to write up a whole new introduction for the second draft of a WIP I already introduced. This happens twice during my run of Novembers, although the next one wasn't until over a decade later. While I don't remember too much about the changes that were made between the first and second drafts of Below, I'm pretty sure I introduced an extra character to the beginning of the story - another mutant named Max. Can't remember what his powers were, or what exactly his role was, but I think he winds up as a reverse-Raevin and joining the opposition?? I'd say I guess we'll find out, but honestly, I don't think I wrote far enough into the story for that. That 61.5K didn't ever make a full second draft, iirc, so it's possible there was a planned reveal that never came to fruition.
Pre-Reading Thoughts
'Teri, why do you have two entries for 2012?' Well, you see, after I started writing my stolen story idea, I quickly realized I didn't actually enjoy writing it. All I wanted to do while writing it was go back to my fun little YA series. So, after cutting Hell Hath Frozen Over with a very abrupt and thematically inappropriate ending, I immediately jumped back over and began rewriting Below. My rewriting process was, in a word, unplanned. I approached second drafts the exact same way I approached first drafts at the time - armed with a vibe and maybe an idea for a plot. I assumed that, simply by virtue of writing More, I was therefore a better writer, and therefore more well-equipped to tell the story I was writing. Thus I could go about writing the draft in exactly the same way I wrote the first one, and naturally, it would have no choice but to be better. I'll let you know how that pans out.

2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.
“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.
“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”
“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”
“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”
The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.
“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.
“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”
Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”
“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.
“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”
Batman. Froze.
Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.
Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.
He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.
“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.
“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.
Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.
To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.
“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.
“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”
Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”
Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”
“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.
“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”
“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”
“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”
“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.
“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”
“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.
The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.
“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”
“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.
“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”
“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“
When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.
“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.
“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”
“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”
“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.
Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.
“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”
The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.
“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.
Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”
“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.
When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.
“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”
#maribat#ml x dc#mlb x dc#soulmate-game#dc x miraculous#dc x mlb#bio!mom Wonder Woman#Bio!mom Diana prince#bio!dad Bruce Wayne#Bio!dad Batman#idk what this is#but it happened#and it’s something
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
HAWKS HAWKS HAWKS HAWKS: Chapter 353-354
Hey, folks, we're finally at the end ready to review the latest couple of chapters after only... *counts* SIX full-sized posts in so many days.
By the way, kids, go look up what "scope creep" is some time. The knowledge might save your sanity some day, assuming you properly plan for it unlike me.
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Shouto's victory over Dabi is an inspirational force among the heroes when the news rings out. All of the other heroes are facing enormous, existential fear on an individual level despite being more than willing to fight and that's understandable - they're only human. Nevertheless, a young, teenage hero who had barely received his provisional license faced his own brother - one of AFO's top fighters, nonetheless - and all but single-handedly took him down. It's a major morale boost which also understandably serves to rattle the opposition.
Btw, knowing that Spinner accepted AFO's offer to make him stronger before the strike, I really want to know how his story's going to play out. He isn't near Shigaraki, AFO, Dabi, or Toga, so this could be interesting to see him spotlighted alone once again.
I'm also excited to finally get some quality screen time with Tentacole whom I believe to be criminally neglected in the series as a whole. Rooting for you, Cephalopod Son!
The news of Dabi's fall reaches Endeavor and the other heroes facing AFO.
And now I'm so glad to have gotten these chapters all at once. Hawks knew going into it that AFO would taunt Endeavor specifically where he was sensitive exactly like he did, but I don't think he anticipated AFO being able to find any fodder that would actually get under HIS skin, and that will likely really come into play later, even if we don't see the results of the battle for a few more chapters, and that's where I predict anything new or unsure about Hawks and his feelings are going to come out.
Now, I love this interaction and series of events. We all know it was Hawks that rose me from my dormant state on this blog. Up to this point there's only so much we had to talk about, especially since what was being speculated in the discussions of leaks that I saw were really far off from what the official translation wound up to be.
The panel about him calling himself "crippled" when AFO tries to make him feel weak and Hawks just deflects it, AFO not getting anything out of him by calling him "Nagant's replacement", and the comment Hawks made about him making "a clean break" from his family history were very sensationalized and taken out of context when I saw them. So far, everything seems to be well within character for Hawks, and literally none of that stuff bothers him. He knows AFO is just the villain trying to get his way, and Hawks has already put on his armor for whatever he anticipated AFO to throw at him.
The only thing that AFO did that actually got to Hawks was wound Endeavor. Hawks' weakness far more than his need for prosthetic wings are those he cares about and his mission. And now, Endeavor has been impaled like the shish kabob.
Damn it, Endeavor. It's okay, though, this is actually the spot I wanted to catch up to, because this is where i think we get the best Hawks characterization crumbs of the chapter.
Up to this point, the main motivation for Hawks as a whole has been the same since he woke up in the hospital- "Finish the job I started as soon as possible because we're running out of time!" It's been weeks. Things have only gotten worse. The goal has never changed - only the logistics and limitations it took to reach that goal. He needs to end it yesterday. Hawks has long accepted that his death may be a necessary price in that equation, and he's at peace with that if it really will bring about the change he wants to see. Sacrificing himself so Endeavor can live and defeat AFO is more than reasonable to him.
These two, though. They weren't in the plan. They weren't in the calculations, ever, because unlike him these were never acceptable potential loses to Hawks. In the moment, he doesn't consider their abilities or the fact that they just saved his life. He can't risk losing them, so they were never a consideration in this fight before.
On the subject of mind games, I think it's safe to say that AFO is going to try to leverage Hawks' protectiveness of the kids to get him to slip up later on, but Tsukoyomi is the one who'll help him psychologically stay on task, while Earphone Jack plays more traditional power support. Tsukoyomi has experience keeping up with Hawks in real time, plus he has a good idea of how his teacher thinks. He also has known and worked closely with Earphone Jack as her classmate for more than two years now, and as she doesn't have to be the one maneuvering she can just focus on communicating with Tsukoyomi to set her up for success.
It's a clutch impromptu support team and one that only gets better if Endeavor is able to rejoin them. There's likely going to be bumps and hiccups, I predict predominantly on Hawks' end and difficulties keeping Jirou airborne, just because of the desperateness of the situation; but the actual important things here is we're going to hopefully get some real quality Bird Bros material in a moment and get to see the goths kids kill it out there. I'm here for it!!!
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Humans are weird: Sewing Chaos: An Earl Von Morgan story
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
“We predict that within the next thirteen solar rotations our enemies will have reached our capital worlds.”
From the center of the dark room a projector ignited and displayed a map of the several surrounding galaxies. Each one color coded to match their respective claimants before the speaker hit a series of keys on the display terminal.
Several red lines began forming from different directions each one slowly pushing through the territories and arriving at the star mark planet signifying the capital worlds.
“These are the most likely avenues of advance they will take which will be coordinated simultaneously to ensure we could not bring our full might against any single thrust.”
“If we did combine our forces,” a robed representative from the Hadrion Confederation spoke, “would it be possible to defeat them?”
The figure at the display terminal entered new combinations of keys for the projection. It showed the military forces of each member state joining together to face a single thrust, and though the red line blinked out of existence the remaining lines still continued.
“If we did marshal all of our collective military might we would be able to stop one, maybe two, of the enemy advances; but as a result we would leave the remainder of our territory exposed and defenseless."
The small group of representatives murmured amongst themselves at this. They had been drawn into the conflict with the Jokonan Empire after a series of border conflicts had escalated into full blown war and now they faced the reality that they would soon become little more than puppet states to the Jokonan’s.
The speaker at the display terminal raised their hand and the conversations died down slowly as all eyes turned to one man.
“As you can see, our situation is rather dire Mr. Morgan; can you assist us?”
From the back of the room a figure rose to their feet and slowly made their way to the center of the room; the clanking of his cane echoing out like gun shots as he strode across the polished floor. As he stepped into the light of the projector he stopped and with his free hand removed a cigar from his jacket pocket and placed it in his mouth. He shifted his cane to his other hand and removed a lighter before swiftly lighting the cigar and returning the lighter. He gazed up at the star map before him and slowly began to circle it. He paced the display quietly, only so often taking an inhale of his cigar and puffing it out as he remained transfixed with the projection.
After circling the display for several minutes he stopped and casually spat out his cigar on to the floor. While the other representatives gasped he stomped it out with his foot before turning to the speaker still at the display terminal.
“I can.”
The mood of the room was a mixture of joy and hesitation at the human’s remark but before anyone could ask how it would be possible the human continued.
“I will need access and authority over all of your intelligence branches and military assets, the very best translators and speakers of the Jokonan language we have on hand, and the complete cooperation of every governing body present here without question.”
This statement was followed by a rash series of shouts and outcries from those gathered. They were shocked by the audacity of this human to walk into their council chamber and demand to be given near total control of all of their governments as if it was as easy as asking for a drink at a bar.
“Oh,” the human continued despite the uproar around him, “and I will need the best Jokonan historian as well.”
The speaker raised their arm again and the room quieted down once more. “And if we give you these things and privileges, you can stop these attacks?” the speakers said.
“I shall do more than that.” Earl Von Morgan said he turned and smiled at the gathered group. “I shall shatter the Jokonan Empire.”
*Twelve solar rotations later*
Morgan sat at his desk reading the latest progress reports when the doors to his office burst open. Each member of the council walked through and stood before the desk, each with a look on their face with a mixture of disgust, anger, and barely contained panic. The final member to walk in was no less the speaker themselves as the rest parted to allow them to stand directly before Morgan.
Morgan briefly looked up from his reports to scan the room before looking back down at them.
“Though my secretary handles my appointments I am sure I would have noticed the council on my agenda for today.” Morgan said dryly.
“It has been twelve solar rotations.”
The speaker’s voice was calm and collected, but Morgan was experienced enough to hear the undertone of hostility behind each word.
Morgan set down his papers finally and looked up at the assembled group. “Has it really been that long?” Morgan looked over at his desk calendar and gave a look of surprise. “So it has; time really does just fly by the older you get I suppose.”
The speaker stepped forward and placed their hands on the desk, leaning their head down so the swirling darkness of their veil was gazing down at Morgan.
“It has been twelve solar rotations,” the speaker continued, “and you have told us nothing.”
“You’ve doomed us all!” one of the assembled representatives shouted drawing cheers from the others.
“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted a human!” said another drawing even more adulation.
Morgan leaned back in his chair and clasped his fingers together. He showed no interest in the gathered mob before him and if anything appeared frustrated that his daily schedule was being interrupted.
“I have not felt the need to issue you status reports because I believed some among you,” Morgan said as his eyes wandered across the gathered faces pausing here and there on certain ones, “would not pass along that information to the Jokonan’s.”
This drew outbursts of anger from several members while others, those that Morgan had focused on, appeared to retreat further to the back of the group.
“You have the audacity to claim one of us is a traitor?” came a cry from a Funtak, his lips struggling to form the words as his three tongues clashed with each other to pronounce each syllable.
“I am a politician; it would be out of character for me not to suspect those around me of treachery.” Morgan chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders childishly.
The Funtak looked to continue the argument before an Ultoine put a hand on their shoulder and stepped forward.
“You and your inaction are the subject here, not us.” They said as they pulled out a binder and casually tossed it on to Morgan’s desk.
“In the past twelve solar rotations you have not only refused to engage the enemy but have in fact more often ordered the withdrawal of our forces when facing the Jokonan fleets; even going so far as to order some of the captains to surrender to them rather than fight.”
“If anyone is the traitor it is you!” the Funtak shouted.
At this Morgan appeared to take offense to. Rather than addressing the accusation Morgan merely grabbed a remote control off his desk and aimed it at a nearby tv. The tv flickered on to a news channel already in progress.
“Our top story tonight is the unfolding outbreak of what appears to be the beginnings of a civil war within the Jokonan Empire.”
Every representative’s face turned to the tv while Morgan continued staring down the speaker.
“What did they just s-“ one of them began before being shushed to silence as the broadcast continued.
“Reports are coming in that second prince Hafala Kajar has declared himself the rightful successor to the imperial throne and denounced his elder brother and the first prince Umba Jaka.”
The screen panned over the images of the two princes. Between the two of them Umba was more physically fit while Hafala standing easily two feet taller, but he lacked the dignified manner Hafala seemed to carry himself with.
“Several Jokonan officials, who have spoken to us unanimously, have stated that military forces loyal to each of the princes have already begun engaging each other in open conflict while Emperor Xar Moth has called for all combatants to cease fire immediately.”
Several video clips played with what looked to be Jokonan ships firing on each other, some even showing grievous damage to their hulls billowing giant clouds of ash.
While the council had their eyes glued to the TV Morgan threw his own folder on to the table, right in front of the speaker. The cloaked head finally broke its gaze with Morgan and slowly picked up the folder, opening it and flicking through the first few pages.
“For the last twelve solar rotations I have been using the resources you have provided me to drive a wedge between the first and second princes.”
Morgan reached for his cane and stood to his feet. He circled round his desk and stood before the speaker as they continued flipping through the pages.
“At first the second prince had no interest in ascending to the throne, he was content to remain at his post and serve his empire.”
Morgan reached over and tapped a certain file the speaker was now looking over.
“So you make those around him believe that he would be a better emperor then his brother, and get them to do the convincing for you.”
Morgan began working his way through the council as they remained transfixed on the tv.
“Whenever I knew the second prince was in a battle I made sure our forces were soundly routed and fled the battlefield, building the prince’s military victory tallies, making his men believe that he was some great tactician who made his enemies cower and flee before even setting foot on the battlefield.”
The speaker nodded, finally grasping the initial part of Morgan’s plan. “It’s one thing for outsiders to say you should be emperor, but another thing entirely when those you have trusted all your life begin saying it.”
Morgan smiled and tipped his head to the speaker as he continued to mingle through the crowd.
“The main offensive that was predicted twelve solar rotations ago was planned by the first prince himself and while we did engage in delaying battles with his fleets we made sure that at every turn the first prince was left humiliated.”
“Every battle ended in horrible losses with little to nothing to show for it as our own fleets engaged in hit and run missions, depriving the first prince of the large scale engagements his younger brother was reaping glory from.”
Morgan continued describing his plan as he made his way back to his desk as the tv was announcing that the second prince had officially declared his brother a traitor to the empire and called on all loyal Jokonan’s to rise up against him
“Next we began hacking into the Jokonan communication systems and broadcasting the second prince’s victories to the entire empire, editing the footage to appear like it had been offhandedly recorded by a waiting bridge officer or a soldier observing the space battles through a view port; and the civilian population lapped it up and over night Hafala became a household name.”
He returned to his seat and to the surprise of many touted a devilish grin as he explained the final part of his plan.
“The final stage had us sending forged documents for Jokonan senators, industrialists, members of great houses, and others in positions of power not openly defying the first prince, but suggesting that the second prince has the potential to be even better.”
“Of course these messages were also then leaked to the first prince who became understandably enraged and arrested many of them, who continued to pronounce that they never made such letters all the way to the gallows.”
“This pushed any supporters he did still have to become increasingly worried that they would be next in this mindless rampage and sought protection of the second prince, which in turn led to what we have before you.”
The news broadcast ended their segment with a Jokonan capital ship imploding like a pumpkin full of firecrackers as Morgan turned off the tv.
One by one the council began turning back to look at Morgan with a renewed respect in their eyes, but were unable to speak praise due to their previous outbursts.
“Not all wars are fought on the battlefield my friends.” Morgan began as he pulled out another cigar and lit it. “We could never match the Jokonan military, so, we turn their own military against themselves and watch as they eat each other alive.”
“Brilliant!”
To Morgan’s surprise it was the Funtak who issued him praise before continuing.
“While they are at each other’s throats we can attack and destroy them once and for all!”
Morgan let out a billow of smoke and to the councilors surprise shook his head in disagreement.
“If we attack now we give them both a common cause to rally behind and unite again.” Morgan cautioned. “We must continue to remain on the sidelines for now and merely stoke the fires of this civil war for a few additional solar rotations, at which point there may very well be no more Jokonan Empire to speak of.”
“It was wise to entrust our survival to you after all it would seem.”
The speaker set down the folder finally having read its entire contents and bowed to Morgan. The rest of the council quickly followed suit as a sign of respect and remained like this for several minutes.
“We shall continue to abstain in favor of your judgement in the coming solar rotations; should there be anything else you should require merely ask it.”
Morgan nodded his head to the speaker before looking back at the council. “For now all I need is for you all to respectfully leave.”
The councilors raised their heads in confusion at this.
“My next meeting is with a particular Hive diplomat I am rather fond of and we have pressing matters to attend to.”
The ease with which he seemed to casually dismiss them offended some, but they yielded all the same and removed themselves quietly as Morgan looked out the window at an approaching transport and smiled to himself.
#HUMANS ARE WEIRD#humans are insane#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#scifi#story#writing
193 notes
·
View notes