#so honey/bee/bug theme makes sense...right?

[rexscanonwife]

Ok its fucking. 7am and I've been up since 5 (gotta love early shifts when u need to take the bus) so no one's gonna see this sooo....

I've been thinking about a Pikmin OC for a particular character. I've seen a lot of rly cool wraith OCs and we've seen a couple different types so I thought it might be cool to give it a try! I was thinking some kind of Honeywraith that's honeycomb-themed and kinda attracts/controls bugs and bug-like enemies.

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 27

Previous | Next | Master List

Hello! Sorry for the very long wait, a lot of stuff has gone on and I haven’t had much time to write. But I’m back now! I have also been working on a part 2 for ‘Moonlight in the Mirror’ as well as some other things which are all, unfortunately, far from finished.

T/W: Blood, injuries, death(?)

He was sure of it.

————————————————————

"Carapace!" Ladybug yelled, dodging one of the sentimonster's hits.

"Shelter!" The turtle themed hero shouted, summoning a green shield around Viperion and Honey Bee. The two heroes then fought the two mini-monsters, breaking the bracelets around their arms, promptly making them disappear. Carapace then lowered the shield so the two heroes inside could escape. They quickly joined the others battling the sentimonster.

"Venom!" Honey Bee called on her power and went in for the winning strike, landing the stinger right on the sentimonster's foot. The sentimonster then jerked to try and get the bee-themed hero off, only to be frozen in his position, and heavily landing on the side of the road.

"Good thinking Honey Bee." Ladybug bounded over to the sentimonster. "Lucky Charm!" The heroine received a piece of folded paper. Glancing at the others briefly, Ladybug opened the spotted paper. Her eyes quickly scanned the thing in her hand and she was unsure of what to make of it.

"What is it?" Viperion asked, looking over the spotted-heroine's shoulder. He too looked perplexed once he had managed to look at the paper. "That's just a lot of words... which don't make sense." And it was. The paper was filled with words from top to bottom, but none of them seemed to have any meaning.

Carapace looked over at it too after hearing Viperion's words. "Could it be Latin? It looks like Latin..." The turtle-themed hero trailed off at the end. The more he read of the paper, the less he believed in his statement.

Ladybug shook her head. "None of the words mean anything, it's just random letters put together." She scanned the paper one more time and this time she took notice of something. Her eyes widened once she realised what it was. "There's a message."

"There is?" Carapace questioned, still not seeing a single thing.

"Oh I can see it!" Honey Bee exclaimed not long after she had joined them at looking at the lucky charm. Ladybug placed her index finger on a line.

"There." And indeed, there were legible words on that line and that line alone. "It says... 'Many Congratulations to you both'. Any idea what that means?" Ladybug turned to her team who all shook their heads. Just as she looked to do another scan of the paper, the sentimonster disappeared from beneath her.

"What...?" Honey Bee questioned and before anyone else could speak, the remaining members of the team returned.

"Sorry Ladybug but Mayura got away, again." Rena told her leader. Ladybug shook her head.

"Not your fault, she's purposely doing it to set us on edge." Ladybug replied. Taking one last look at the paper, she threw it up into the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!" The magical ladybugs surrounded the surrounding areas and fixed everything in its path, making it seem as there was never any damage in the first place. Then they all turned to each other.

"Pound it!" They exclaimed at the same time, outstretching their fists in synchronization.

After pulling his hand back to his side, Chien looked over at a clock in a nearby shop. He then pointed at it. "If we want to have more lunch time, we better get back soon." The others nodded.

"Well done everyone, now let's go." Ladybug proudly told her team. They all then dispersed into groups, Viperion and Ryuko going one way and the others going another way, before splitting into two groups themselves. Honey Bee and Ladybug got a nearby building and de-transformed behind it.

"Alright Mari-bug, let's go back to school now shall we?" Chloe said as Pollen flew back in her owner's purse.

"Yep." Marinette replied, opening her own purse for Tikki to fly into. "The faster we get there, the more free time we'll have? The two then walked side by side to their school, they saw the others waiting for them.

"Took you both long enough!" Alya shouted once the two girls were in earshot.

"Yeah yeah, let's go get some food." Chloe waved her off, pushing past the boys to get in the lead. Adrien sighed with a smile on his face and soon followed the blonde. Marinette shrugged at her best friend and they both, Nino included, headed inside their school, walking up the stairs to the cafeteria. Chloe went to save them all a table as they got some of the available food onto their trays. They went back to the table, bringing Chloe a tray of food as well.

"I can't believe Mayura got away, again." Adrien sighed as he sat down, taking a bite out of his apple.

"We were this close-" Alya held her hand up to Marinette's face, her thumb and index finger were around a centimeter apart. "-to catching her. This close!" The girl sank back into her seat, Nino rubbed circles on her back.

"It's alright, you all did great today." Marinette encouraged her friends. "And besides, each time a new sentimonster comes, we get closer to catching Mayura, meaning we'll get her soon."

"I hope so." Chloe muttered, reaching for her water. Just as Marinette was about to change the subject, she heard a notification from her phone. She took it out of her bag and looked to see what it was. Then she smiled.

"I better take this." Marinette took her purse with her as she stood up. Alya blinked before she smirked at her best friend.

"From someone special I presume." The girl asked, one of her eyebrows raised.

Marinette stifled her laugh with her hand. "Yeah, it is." A light dusting covered her cheeks.

"Well go on, don't let us keep you." Adrien urged.

"I'm sure we can survive a while without you." Nino added on, holding his girlfriend's hand so that Marinette could have the conversation in private. Marinette smiled in gratitude and walked away to private and a quieter place.

"Do you reckon she's in love?" Alya questioned after her best friend left.

"She's completely smitten, that's for sure." Chloe agreed, smiling in the direction that Marinette went. "Loin des yeux, près du cœur." The others on the table quickly agreed. Something then caught the blonde's eye. She frowned.

"What is it Chloe?" Adrien asked, noticing his friend's expression.

"Liar coming up on our right." Chloe muttered to the group. They turned slightly and she was there, Lila was looking curiously at Marinette, seemingly intrigued about the conversation she was having. Then she moved.

"Shoot what do we do?" Alya quickly whispered. Just as Adrien was about to stand up, Nino spoke.

"Hey Rose." The boy called out to the shorter girl. She turned and walked over to the boy.

"Hi Nino, how are you?" Rose asked, a smile present on her face.

"I'm good, actually I heard something this morning." Nino quickly brought up. "I heard Lila telling Sabrina about her latest meetup with Prince Ali." The whole table watched as the short blonde's blue eyes were filled with interest.

"Oh she never mentioned that to me." Rose told the group before moving quickly in Lila's direction. "Hey Lila-" The two girls continued talking, Rose pulling Lila in the direction of her table which happened to be away from Marinette. Nino released a sigh of relief.

"Smart thinking Nino." Adrien said to his best friend.

"I did actually hear her talk about it." Nino stated matter-of-factly. "So technically, I didn't lie." Adrien and Nino tried to stifle their laughter while Chloe chuckled softly, more focused on her food. The others caught this, and Adrien rubbed comforting circles on her back. She smiled in gratitude.

After Marinette had left the table, she took a look at her phone.

Dami <3: Hello Angel

Dami <3: How has your day been so far?

Me: It's been ok I suppose

Me: Is it a bad time to call?

Dami <3: Not at all

The girl smiled and dialled Damian's phone number, the call was answered almost immediately.

"Good afternoon to you, Angel." Damian's voice rang through, it sounded as if he was walking.

"And good morning to you, mon étoile" Marinette replied, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Did you already have breakfast?"

"Yes, Alfred is a fine cook." He told her. "How is everything in Paris?" Damian asked, as if he could read what was on her mind through her voice alone. The girl took a deep breath, she still hadn't told him about Mayura's return as she was too busy fighting said villain and completing all her work to say anything about it.

"I know I should have told you sooner but," Marinette sighed and then frowned. "Mayura has made her reappearance." If he was definitely walking, he had stopped now.

"You're fighting against Mayura." It wasn't a question.

Marinette was about to nod but then she remembered that Damian couldn't see her. "Yeah." Damian was silent for a moment.

"How bad is it?" He asked.

"Due to Hawkmoth's current inability to use his miraculous, she reappeared, making her sentimonsters much more advanced and dangerous than previously." Marinette supplied to information to him. "We get closer to catching her but she still manages to escape."

Marinette heard Damian hum over the phone. "And how much longer do you think Hawkmoth will be... unwillingly inactive for?"

"Perhaps another week or so." Marinette mumbled. There were a few moments of silence before she sighed. "I feel terrible about it." The girl chuckled weakly.

"Angel-"

"I told them that they could let their guard down for some time, I completely forgot about Mayura." The girl rambled on. Damian interrupted before she could get carried away.

"Habibti." He got her attention instantly. "It isn't your fault, being the leader of a team of superheroes is hard enough, but you're doing amazingly. You can't predict everything that will happen, but I know that you deal with those situations astonishingly, much more so than others. Don't torture yourself over it." Marinette inhaled sharply, a lump forming in her throat.

"Alright, I won't, sorry." The girl blinked away any tears that were in her eyes. "I- thank you, Damian. The things you say mean so much to me."

"I'm honoured to know that my words have that effect." Marinette could tell he was smiling through his words. "How is everyone else?"

She was grateful for the change of subject. "They're doing just fine, they've become such great heroes." The girl glanced back at the lunch table, smiling as she watched her friends laugh at a joke she was too far to hear. "I'm proud of them, and I'm glad I have them with me."

Damian hummed. "Yes, they-" he paused in the middle of his sentence. Just as Marinette was about to ask him what the problem was, he spoke up again. "I am sorry, Angel, but I have to leave now." He sighed.

"It's fine, text you later?" Marinette asked.

"Of course. Have a good day, Angel." Damian told her through the phone.

"You too, Dami." Marinette smiled and ended the call. She stared at the phone's screen until it turned off, her reflection staring back at her. The girl breathed through her nose and put her phone back in her purse, making her way back to the lunch table.

"Hey Mari." Adrien greeted her as she sat back down. He chuckled, almost nervously, in Marinette's opinion.

"Hi." Marinette replied, taking her water bottle off her tray. "What did I miss?" She asked as she took a sip, raising one of her eyebrows while doing so.

"Nothing much." Alya told her. "Just that Adrien said he-"

"Nothing! You missed nothing at all!" The blonde quickly interrupted the bespectacled girl, shooting her a look. Marinette looked at Chloe and Nino for answers, but they both were snickering to themselves.

"It seems like I did miss something." The girl leaned forward so that her face was in front of Adrien's. "Trying to hide something, Agreste?" Marinette asked innocently. Adrien on the other hand seemed to be panicking.

"N-nope, nothing at all!" he stuttered, avoiding eye contact with the girl. Marinette's gaze hardened for a moment, then she hummed.

"Alright then, suit yourself." She sat back down in her seat, taking another sip of water. "I'll find out eventually." Marinette shrugged at the terrified expression on the boy's face.

"I never should have told you guys." Adrien muttered at his group of friends. Laughter erupted from a few of them.

"We love you, Adrien." Chloe comforted between her giggles, rubbing his shoulder. Just then, the bell rang.

"Just two more lessons left." Nino commented as he stood up from the table.

"Yep." Alya replied. "Then we're free." She said in good nature.

"Let's get this over with, I need a good rest." Marinette let out a yawn to prove her point.

~~~

Ladybug glanced frantically at her surroundings. The full moon shone brightly above her head but it didn't illuminate the area around her. The shadows seemed to close in on her, the world getting darker and darker.

"Chien, Rena, Viperion, are any of you there?" Ladybug asked into the void. No reply.

She took a breath after being faced with the realisation that she was alone. Ladybug walked into the darkness, her steps echoed in the seemingly empty avenue. One step after the other, she seemed to be walking forever without a destination. Then one of her steps felt off. Glancing down at her foot, Ladybug staggered back, horrified with what she saw. There was the disfigured body of her teammate, their dull, lifeless, eyes stared back at her.

"Chien..." Ladybug felt her mouth move. It wasn't a question, she knew that the person in front of her was Adrien's hero persona, but she refused to believe it.

Gravity seemed to get stronger as she fell back a step. Her vision became blurrier by the second, her breaths became heavier and heavier, until her foot slipped from underneath her. Ladybug managed to catch herself before she tumbled backward. The heroine turned around. She felt herself inhale sharply. It was Carapace this time. Blood spilled from his gut, his insides wrapped around his neck, a shocked expression frozen on his pale face. Ladybug's own insides felt twisted, seeing the brutal state her poor teammate was left in. And then suddenly, one by one, all her teammates came into view, each one in their own bloody mess. Honey Bee's arm was a few inches away from her body, Viperion's looked almost as if he was snapped in half, Rena Rouge's flute stabbed through her head, Ryuko's head rested at her body's feet.

They were barely recognisable.

Ladybug could see the tears in her eyes but before they could fall, the sound of a sword fight forced her into a fighting stance. Her eyes darted around her surroundings, trying to see through the darkness that surrounded her. Then someone stepped into view. They were in a heated duel with another figure, both were in all black attire.

"Noir..." a horrified whisper escaped from her lips, capturing his attention.

"Ladybug?" He seemed to be fighting in vain, his tone seemed to be that of disbelief. Ladybug should've been confused but she was a whirlpool of emotions in that moment, it was impossible to focus on one. The heroine wanted to run to her beloved, to beg for an explanation, but she shouldn't have distracted him. She knew that, but it was already too late. He turned on his side to face her, leaving himself open. It all happened so fast. His attacker saw this moment of weakness and used it to their own advantage. The opponent grabbed firmly on their blade and struck through Noir's chest, letting the hero fall to the ground. Ladybug gasped in dismay, her hand instinctually reaching down to yo-yo as she sprinted over to the fallen hero. She dropped down to her knees next to his body, her hand scrambling over him to try and cover his wound, to try and find a pulse. To try anything.

But there was nothing.

"Noir... Noir! Please, Noir, don't leave me!" Ladybug's voice pleaded, but her hands stopped searching for a pulse. The tears left hot trails on her face as they finally fell. Warm, crimson liquid dripped from her hand as she pulled it away. He was gone, and it was her fault. Her fault.

She forgot about the enemy in that moment, a mistake she knew would cost her, again. Their footsteps echoes from behind her, getting closer and closer. Before Ladybug could have done anything to defend herself, a black blade plunged into her chest, soaked in her scarlet blood.

Marinette jolted from her sleep in a panic, a searing pain erupted from her chest. Her hand clutched that part of her pyjama shirt, all her energy focussed on containing the agony. "I thought it had gone." Marinette murmured once she had the strength to do so. A glass of water appeared in front of her face with two floating beings holding it.

"Here Marinette." Tikki told her owner with worry in her eyes.

"Thank you Tikki." Marinette managed to get out before gulping down the cold liquid. She sighed and placed her hand back on her chest, controlling her breathing.

"You scared us there, Pigtails." Plagg commented, hugging his guardian's cheek. "Was it a nightmare?"

Marinette nodded. "Horrible nightmare, so glad it wasn't real." She blinked, staring out of her bedroom window. "What time is it?"

"It's just after midnight." The red kwami replied. "Do try to get back to sleep, Marinette."

The girl hummed. "In a moment. I just... need to calm down first." She whispered and reached for her phone. She turned it on and it indeed was past midnight.

Me: Have u had dinner yet?

Damian replied almost instantly.

Dami <3: Angel? It's late, you should go to sleep.

The girl smiled at her phone, her boyfriend just as caring as ever.

Me: I will soon, I'm guessing you haven't had dinner yet

Dami <3: No, I haven't.

Dami <3: Please rest, my angel. You need your sleep.

Me: Ok, I will. Goodnight, mon étoile

Dami <3: Goodnight Habibti, rest well.

Marinette sighed and put her phone away, pulling the blankets back over herself. She turned to her kwamis. "Goodnight, Tikki. Goodnight, Plagg."

"Night, Pigtails." Plagg yawned, making himself comfortable on a cushion.

"Goodnight, Marinette." Tikki replied, settling herself next to the black kwami.

The girl smiled and closed her eyes. The once pained feeling in her chest, changed into a warmth in her heart. But she couldn't get that image out of her head, she couldn't forget about what happened to them, she couldn't forget what she saw, she couldn't forget. And that scared her.

~~~

Chloe blew out some hair from her face as she walked through the school corridor. She came into school early as she was tasked to do an art project of her choice, so she chose photography. Chloe knew for a long time now that pictures of herself weren't the type of pictures they were looking for, so she figured that the school architecture would be a good place to start. What better way to show your artistic skill then by using the things around you?

The girl crouch down to get a good angle of the school with her phone. Then she took a picture. Standing back up, she looked at the photo she took and smiled to herself, satisfied. She turned to leave when something caught her attention. A simple flyer, a piece of paper, caught her attention. Chloe walked over to the poster, tearing it off the wall as she read it. The blonde gasped, took the poster, and ran. She burst into classroom where a familiar blogger was using her phone. Chloe slammed the poster down onto their desk.

"Take a look at this."

——— Taglist: @little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster,@frieddonutsweets,@jjmjjktth,@genderfluidmoma,@starlit-dreaming,@icerosecrystal,@lolieg,@kashlyn,@mochegato,@eggadoodle,@walkingthroughonautopilot,@toodaloo-kangaroo,@lady-bee-fechin,@weebjai1,@trippingovermyfeet,@laurcad123,@twsssmlmaa,@queenz-z,@maribat-is-lifeblood

[master-sass-blast]

The Christmas Decorating Fic.

Hello, yes, this is the proper time of year to post a Christmas themed fic.

Summary: You and Piotr decorate your home for Christmas for the very first time.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Rating: G.

Warning(s): A very minor, mild mention of/allusion to childhood trauma.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @leo-writer, @dandyqueen

“Orn-a-ments, lights, and ginger-bread cookies! Tinsel and more lights and… what else rhymes with cookies? Glitter and glitter and glitter some more! Gonna have glitter all over the floor!”

“Pozhaluysta, nyet. We will be vacuuming for thousand years, at least.”

“I make no promises.” You grin impishly at your long-suffering husband, then belt out, “When the dog bites! When the bee stings! When I’m feeling sad… I simply throw glitter up in the air, and then I don’t feel… so bad!”

It’s officially the winter holiday season –meaning snow, seasonal music, red and green everything, and consuming more cookies than you probably should in one sitting.

It’s also midterm season at Xavier’s for all the high school students, meaning your husband has been hard at work prepping exams, holding review sessions, making study guides, and generally doing everything he can to see that his pupils succeed.

Which is nice –but it also means that you were left with the task to purchase all the Christmas and seasonal décor.

You probably went overboard (not that you’re admitting that to anybody).

Piotr stares at the sea of bags and boxes that completely cover the living room floor and spill into the kitchen. He rubs his temples and sighs. “Moya lyubov’… why?”

“I just…” You smile sheepishly and duck your head. “It’s pretty! And colorful! And it’s so white and bland outside, so I thought we could use extra color in here! And, like, we can share whatever we don’t use with the residents so they can decorate their rooms, but…” You let your voice trail off, sheepish smile growing. “I liked all of it. Okay, look –all of the candles smelled amazing! How was I supposed to pick one type?” You pull a random candle out of a bag that holds many, many, many more candles –this one’s peppermint hot chocolate scented—and take off the lid before holding it out to your husband. “Smell this. It’s fucking delicious.”

“Smells very nice,” Piotr agrees after a cursory sniff. “Just… what will we do with all this?”

“Decorate, baby. It’s our first Christmas that we have our own place. We gotta go all out!”

“I do not disagree. Just… how much did all this cost?”

“I used my own money,” you defend yourself. “Which is technically crime money from Wade and dad and my uncle, which I know you don’t like, but it’s also supporting a capitalist death machine, which you also don’t like, so I feel like that should cancel each other out—” You sigh when Piotr crosses arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at you. “I got excited,” you admit. “I’ve never… I’ve never really been able to go all out for Christmas before, especially not in a home of my own. I can… I can take some of it back, if you want.”

“Nyet, nyet,” Piotr says gently. He draws you into his arms and kisses the top of your head. “That will not be necessary.” He kisses the top of your head, then surveys the sea of bags once more. “Well, at least we will never need to buy decorations again.”

“That’s the spirit!” you chirp, patting his chest before skipping away. “I need you to put up the tree, and also help me hang tinsel because…” You pick up one of your sketchpads and show him a few designs you’d made with an impish grin. “I drew up some layouts.”

“Did you now,” Piotr chuckles as he studies your sketches.

“I have a vision.”

He chuckles again, then kisses your cheek. “Then let’s make vision come true.”

 ***

 “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire… Jack Frost nipping at your nose…”

The smooth tones of Nat King Cole croon through the speakers. Snow flutters down from the thick, dark gray blanket of clouds high above, batting against the windowpanes before accumulating in drifts over the earth. A fire crackles in the fireplace, hissing and snapping as the flames eat away at the logs your husband had placed in the hearth.

You smile, hovering in the air as you tack up a strand of tinsel.

It’s like the spirit of Christmas has swept through your house. You got Piotr to wrestle the Christmas tree into an upright position –he’s still shaping and fluffing it now—while you focused on draping strands of tinsel and lights over every conceivable surface (within reason on the lights, of course, because Piotr drew a line at blowing the breaker every time one of you flipped a switch). There’s little clusters of figurines throughout the main floor –there’s a trio of wooden snowmen on the table next to the front door, a scene of those porcelain house and figures on a swath of batting on the side table in the dining room, several little penguins in festive hats scattered throughout the kitchen—

It’s almost addictive. Every new addition to your home leaves you giddy, giggling like a child on a sugar high. You dart all over the place, finessing and adjusting which decorations go where until it’s all just right.

Maybe it comes from never decorating for anything during your childhood. Your parents were stridently against any sort of frivolity, citing “hedonism” and “blasphemy” and “not following in the path of Christ” any of the few times you dared to ask.

Woe to thee, Pharisees and Sadducees, you think as you finish hanging a strand of red, holographic tinsel. Your upper lip curls in derision as you float back down to the floor.

Piotr looks over at you when you let out a ragged sigh. “Everything alright, myshka?”

“Yeah.” You sigh again. “Just… thinking about my parents.”

Piotr leaves the tree –which is looking far less bedraggled than it did first coming out of the box. He crosses the room and puts his arms around you once he’s by your side. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

“I know, I know. I just get mad at them sometimes.”

“As you have every right to be.” He kisses the top of your head. “I am so sorry, myshka.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You tip your head back so you can kiss him properly. “You want to light one of the candles I got?”

“Sure. You pick.”

“In that case, I’m lighting all of them.”

Piotr laughs as he ambles back over to the tree. “Please, no.”

You start pulling candles out of a paper bag and line them up on the kitchen counter. “We’ve got ‘Peppermint Hot Chocolate,’ ‘Sugar Cookie,’ ‘Frosted Holly,’ ‘Sugar and Spice,’ ‘Fresh Pine,’ ‘Cranberry Orange Zest,’ ‘Gingerbread Dreams,’ ‘Minty Mocha,--’”

“Bozhe ty moi,” Piotr guffaws, shoulders shaking as he laughs. He presses a hand against his stomach and shakes his head. “How many did you get?”

“As many as I wanted!” You stick your tongue out at him when he continues laughing and keep lining up candles on the counter. “Shut up! I’ve never gotten to have shit like this before.”

Piotr sobers abruptly. He stares at you, forehead creasing with sorrow. “I am sorry, myshka. I did not consider this.”

“No, no, no.” You leave your plethora of candles at the counter and go over to him. “It’s okay, honey,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his waist. “I was poking fun back at you, sweetheart. I wasn’t offended, I swear.”

“That is good to know.” Piotr strokes your hair with one hand. “But… it hurts me. I remember that you had so little, and were treated so cruelly, and—”

You hold him tighter when his voice breaks. “It’s okay, Piotr. I’m okay. I’ve got you now. And all the candles I could ever want!”

He laughs, even if it’s wet and shaky. “Da, very true.” He wipes a few stray tears off his cheeks. “Pick candle you like best, myshka. Anything is fine with me.”

“So, I can light all of them at once—”

“Nyet. Tochno net.”

“But—”

“Nyet.”

“But it—”

“Nyet.”

“You’re not even letting me explain myself!”

“Correct.” Piotr grins when you scrunch your face up at him, then kisses your forehead. “One candle, myshka. Please.”

You sigh dramatically, heaving your shoulders and rolling your eyes. “Fine. I guess I just have to smell each one until I can decide which one’s the best.”

“You will give yourself headache.”

“No, I won’t! I’m invincible!”

Piotr shakes his head as you skip back over to the counter. “Whatever you say, moya lyubov’.”

 ***

  You don’t give yourself a headache –but you do switch between smelling candles so fast that you lose your sense of smell.

“I’m wounded!” you scream as you inhale into your shirt to try and clear your nose. “Forever disabled! I’m gonna die!”

“I warned you,” Piotr says, smiling all the same. He carefully sniffs a few candles, then takes a lighter and lights ‘Gingerbread Dreams.’ “This one is best.”

“How dare you mock me!”

“My sincerest apologies.” He sets the candle on the center of the counter, then faces you. “Are you ready to decorate tree?”

“Sure. You want to start on lights while I pick which ornaments to use?”

Piotr shoots you a dubious glance. His gaze flicks between you and the sea of plastic bags still covering the floor. “Myshka… why would you need to pick?”

“Well…” You shift from foot to foot as your voice trails off. “I wasn’t sure… what color scheme we’d go with…”

He sighs like the longsuffering saint he is. “How many did you get?”

“Uh…” You rifle through the bags, pulling out box after box of shimmery, shiny baubles. “Enough?”

Piotr’s eyes bug out of his head. “Y/N—”

“We can donate the ones we don’t use.”

“Yes, yes we will.” Piotr runs a hand over his face, shaking his head. He sighs heavily, then grabs a strand of lights and starts weaving it between the tree branches. “Thank goodness for extra spending money.”

***

 The two of you settle on a white, gold, and red theme for the tree, since there’s plenty of green in the rest of the house. Between the tree, finishing the other decorations, and the tidying up –at Piotr’s insistence—it’s late evening before the two of you finish up.

You nestle against Piotr’s side. The two of you are on the couch, resting and admiring your handiwork in the light of the fire and the thousands of string lights. “It looks pretty.”

“Da.” Piotr drapes a thick, burly arm around your shoulders. “You chose well.”

You snort. “Hard to go wrong when you buy half the store.”

“You chose well,” he repeats, voice soft and loving. He kisses your temple. “Our home looks wonderful, moya solntse.”

You beam and lay your head against his chest. “Yeah. It does.”

[leafdrake-haven]

I think that you should switch the Avatars of Spring and Summer around. Right like I think the Bee would make a great Spring avatar – flowers are a sign of spring and bees have an important role in that. And as the WUG Avatar I mean you missed a chance to play on the insect hivemind thing. It could be literal in this sense with orders of skilled telepaths and mind mages under her wing. Worshipped by pollinator-themed races across the plane – butterfly winged nymphs, hummingbird fae and Thriae 1

Ok I think I formatted this right to see all 3 parts.

Thanks for showing interest in my fanplane!!! It's wild to me still people other than me are bringing it up ^_^ I should talk about it more!

I love the visuals you brought in, those are some good ideas! Funnily enough when I was coming up with the bones of Perenia, the spring avatar WAS originally the honey bee! I did have ideas for the hivemind aspect and the mechanical theme was going to center around tokens (my favorite commander deck is bant tokens so I'm a sucker for that). I still think it's an idea with merit, but I really like what I've landed on.

Partially the reason went down to colors and mechanics and now I have kind of a creation mythos I like that fits with the current line-up. Part of the change was I just saw red more than blue for bees. The hivemind was a good blue argument but red just seemed more fitting to me in the end. Bees sting and that fits best with red (direct damage). Also some bees as a defense mechanism will swarm an enemy and flap their wings to overheat and essentially cook the adversary which also seemed a good red thing (also a good flavor point of her bringing in summer). I love the passion idea with WRG as you mentioned and dancing is very important to the summer culture!

I liked the unicorn in spring especially when I came up with the land animation/awaken theme for that faction. To me I associate unicorns with magic, contemplation, cunning other-wordlyness that feels more blue to me. I love the visual you came up with for the summer unicorn! I also enjoy the picture in my head of a draft-horse built, soil brown unicorn with plants in his mane waking up the plants with the touch of his horn. (Ironically in my current creation myth for Perenia he is actually the oldest!)

I hope my reasons make more sense now! I really liked your input and I thank you for your interest in Perenia! ^_^

Oh, also! Thriae, the elves with bug parts, is that a fantasy thing somewhere, I'll have to look it up! I actually have the elves of Perenia taking after their chosen avatar so I have bee-elves, unicorn-elves, and phoenix-elves (see fanwalker Helis for an example if you're curious). That sounds like a cool thing I should look up later, thanks again!

[salavante]

Odwain! The goodest.

Wow, featuring one of the more flattering drawings I’ve done of Odwain. Like last time, I’ll post all these guys separately and then do all the headshots in a masterpost. In the meantime buckle up for...a lot. (Thank you for giving me my favorite character.) 

Full Name: Odwain Novak. In Ben Yit’gab, the Bennai language, his first name would be Oediwen, and it’s what his dad called him. His mother calls him Oddy and he does not like it.

Gender and Sexuality: Male and Bisexual

Pronouns: He/him

Ethnicity/Species: Odwain is a Ben-Aleth, a Human-Bennai hybrid, also called a mosshead if you’re in coarse company. His human mother Blanche Novak is mixed race. Odwain’s maternal grandfather came directly from Earth, Poland specifically, during one of the several accidental migrations of humans coming from Earth to The Road. His maternal grandmother is from a previous wave who were already settled on The Road by that time, but the family can trace her ancestry back to West Africa. Odwain’s father, Ashatov Novak, was a full-blooded Bennai, a plant-based halfling race. Ashatov took his wife’s last name.

Birthplace and Birthdate: Thinking about this trips me out man. Odwain was born in 1946, sometime in the summer, probably July or August, in Septor Secundis, a coastal, metropolitan city and the seat of The Road’s government. He’s 27 during his first adventure and right now, in Godslaughter, he is 69 (what the FUCK). He will live maybe 20 or 30 years longer than your average human, and is in better physical shape than a human would be at 69. He’s more like late 40’s or early 50’s.  

Guilty Pleasures: A lot, probably - Odwain has just a bit of hedonistic streak just because he feels miserable so much of the time that he needs to feel good somehow. He smokes cigarettes for much of his life (but eventually quits), is a casual cannabis smoker and binge eats really truly terrible junk food (and has a bit of a gut because of it, but because he’s kind of lanky otherwise, he’s just kind of gourd-shaped). He likes beer, but doesn’t drink hard liqour all that often because he gets astronomically bad hangovers. Despite having a generally weak stomach, Odwain really likes frightfully spicy food, and his kids’ obligatory dad-gifts for him are probably hot sauces. When he’s not pounding down garbage, his favorite kind of cuisine is Thai. Not a guilty pleasure per say, but he also loves all things that have to do with insects, and when he and Rusty have a house together, Odwain takes up gardening as a hobby and plants an expansive garden of flora that are attractive to bees. (A Nice Thing: Odwain plants this garden when Rusty is pregnant because he found his love of insects through his father’s garden as a child, and wanted to give his kids the same opportunity) Odwain also maintains an apiary from the time that he’s living in a warehouse in the desert, to when he’s living with a partner and beyond. When he learns how to make Hot Honey it’s over for all of us. He has a modest collection of novelty bee-themed things that he’s amassed over the years, but he is not guilty about asserting his love of bees/wasps, like, at all. He’s also a little kinky but I’m not going into that.

Phobias: All of Odwain’s fears are existential - what if I push everyone away, existing in society is anxiety inducing, what if I’m just a bad person and my existence is making everything more difficult for functional people, etc. Though he’s kind of a sad fellow and has ideated suicide, and came very, VERY close to trying to kill himself after he dropped out of college, he also fears growing old and dying. I think death is more digestible to him if it’s on his own terms, but even then, I think what coaxed him off the edge was fear. If anything ever happened to his chosen romantic partner or any of his kids, he’d be besides himself, and is kind of one severe trauma and emotional breakdown away from becoming a bee-themed supervillian.

What They Would Be Famous For: Odwain is notable at a certain point in his career for being a pioneer in AI programming, and also for designing, building and patenting an invention called the Hercules Rig, which is basically a beetle-wing inspired jetpack. You can see it here. He holds the patent very closely and only allows it to be reproduced for recreation, construction, emergency rescue operations, etc. Odwain has taken a very firm stance on not allowing the military or any paramilitary organization to get their hands on it, though it has not stopped them from making shitty knock-offs that he is constantly suing people about.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Breaking and entering. Exploding something he shouldn’t. Buying illegal hazardous materials. Doing something petty that bites him in the ass.

OC You Ship Them With: To be honest there are not a lot of other characters besides Rusty that I ship him with. Bitter college rivals, thrown back together as late twenty-somethings, becoming better people together and learning to express empathy and vulnerability…it’s good. The only other character that I really go yeah, that’s the good stuff, is Jake’s character Finnick, who is kind of Odwain’s weird BFF and fellow mad scientist type. I don’t think they’d have a super stable relationship, and I think it would most likely be a “we yelled at each other and had weird sex enough that we like each other now” kind of scenario. But I do think they would come to love each other and have each other’s back to the death. Him and Hemlock, my dirty swamp witch who’s only picture was devoured during the great tumblr purge, also make a pretty fun couple for similar reasons. Iona too, but I think they are too explosive of personalities to ever find a stable middle ground. I also think he would find certain people attractive (August, Hare, Ganzrig, Ifechi the man I have spoken of but once, Jonquil in certain scenarios) but may not put himself out there to pursue them.

Neither of us have ever posted any art of her but here’s a few headshots of Finnick I did awhile ago, because she really is my favorite romantic partner for Odwain aside from Rusty, and is the only other one that’s really relevant in our games. 

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Odwain is fairly physically fragile and to be honest I think that most people could kill him as long as they could get their hands on him - he’s very dexterous and has a lot of gadgets that let him get the upper hand, keep enemies at a distance or escape. He has a ranged fighting/add-spawn build so he is mostly out of direct harm unless he’s reeled in somehow. But uh, Odwain IS dead right now in Godslaughter, he died fighting an eldritch deity named Dreamer who sucked him into a nightmare dimension and flayed his soul out of his body. It’s ok though, as long as the party beats Dio, he’ll be fine. I didn’t cry you’re the one who’s crying.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Ok, so, first off HAHA Odwain canonically likes Transformers and collects them, which are a thing in circulation after the last human migration from earth in the 90’s. Imagine. Imagine your grown ass father with a genius level IQ and multiple patents collecting plastic robots. Him and Finnick have transformers sonas - ANYWAY, that aside, he doesn’t really read for pleasure, just information, and generally just puts on cable while he works for white noise (and in later years, whatever The Road’s TV streaming service is). Most of the media he consumes is incidental to him, but will get interested in strange things that pique his interest. He probably thinks true crime docs are neat and enjoys pulpy sci-fi stuff that he can complain about. Any documentary about bugs. He’d like Mystery Science Theatre if they had it around. He enjoys things that are the fun, good kind of “bad” and has a fairly high threshold for  disturbing imagery.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Odwain is that guy who makes 20 minute long youtube videos lampooning movies for “not making sense”. If there’s anything that breaks his suspension of disbelief, his attention and tolerance disintegrates, even if it’s just one of those things that needs to happen to move the plot along. It doesn’t really matter what genre it is, though he is most hard on sci-fi and fantasy. There is a tipping point for him, however, where he starts enjoying the thrill of blasting something and circles back around to enjoying it.

Talents and/or Powers: Odwain is only a little bitty bit magical, and only because Bennai are the most magical race on The Road. He has latent magical ability that allows him to sense magical signatures and incorporate magic into technology, and maybe cast a low level spell if he tries really hard. If he was in a high fantasy setting, he’d be an enchanter. His staff (the big lightbulb thing I draw him with sometimes), the Hercules Rig, his Wasp Suite (robotic wasps with an AI and different spells loaded into them) and any other devilish, bug-based weapons and utility objects do his work for him.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Odwain’s a bit of a tough walnut to crack because I think that he shines in moments of sincerity and vulnerability, but he has to, well, get there. He’s capable of very great, thoughtful acts of selflessness and compassion, and deeply desires meaningful relationships with other people, but he gets insecure about how he expresses himself and can clam up. He’s passionate, emotional and expressive, but has been put down for being so, and was probably a very brilliant, curious child who was beaten down into a somber adult. I actually think that, at some point in his childhood, he was not entirely unlike Whitty in the way that he was eager to share things with people and explore the world around him, which is why Odwain feels very protective of his grandson. I think the most lovable thing about him is that when he’s at his best, nothing can stop him - he’s extremely intelligent, diligent, creative and innovative. He truly, deeply loves making things, and making them better, and when he’s not in a crash, creates prolifically. What he loves, he loves deeply and without compromise, which makes Rusty, a person that could also be said of, a good match for him. I also think his cattiness makes him very witty, he’s a genuinely funny guy who can engage in some really goofy shenanigans when he’s feeling up for it.  

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Oh, lots of reasons. Odwain is an acquired taste to many, or just not to many’s taste at all. He is very petty, blunt and catty, and as a young man is extremely bitter and negative. You’d be very hard pressed to get a positive statement about anything out of him between the ages of 16-25. He’s very confrontational, can become very loud and intense if it’s something that he feels is important, and is not afraid to cut people out of his life if he feels that they aren’t good for him. Sometimes, he will end relationships/friendships prematurely because of this. Being such, he is heavily prone to self-inflicted isolation. He has no childhood friends, and only kept in touch with one person from college. He just cuts and runs. Odwain’s self-loathing runs very deep, which makes it hard for him to accept, or ask for, emotional support or affection. And that can be hard on the people around him who care about him. His executive dysfunction can also be abysmal, making it seem like perhaps he is messy or lazy, but he’s just kind of a mess himself, hah.

A weird non-psychological one but I think is enough to get someone’s hackles up is that Odwain doesn’t like animals very much unless they are insects, invertebrates, etc. He finds mammals loud, messy and needy, and that “I’m the only one in my house that is allowed to be all of those things”.

How They Change: As Odwain ages and gains a stable support network of friends, his edges soften and he learns how to ask for help more effectively. He also learns how to better choose his battles, and how to exercise the compassion that he knows he has, but has been too insecure to utilize. He manages his mental health better, but is never entirely free of it, because you never really are. Most importantly, I think, he learns how to forgive the people who deserve forgiveness, and give people second chances, accepting that people can change. Which means the same can be said for him, too.

Why You Love Them: I’ve talked about this before, somewhere, I’m sure. Odwain is one of those characters that has a very big slice of my personality, and has a lot of my more negative traits, though they are ones we’re both working on. My first session with Odwain was a scene where Odwain’s dad died after being ill for a very long time, and as it happens, it was on father’s day, on the first or second father’s day after MY dad died, after several brutal months fighting with the cancer that eventually killed him. I had to put down the dice, so to speak, and for a short time, thought that Odwain might actually be a character that I scrapped completely. He came too close to something very painful and personal. I don’t remember how, exactly, but the solution to this problem of mine was that if he’s getting close to me on his own, then I might as well just let him in on everything. I can genuinely say that doing that has changed the way that I empathize with my characters and how I make them, and that there is something I share with Odwain that I don’t have with many of my other characters. Also, I like bees.

[thesims4sarah]

SILVER SCREEN SIMS LEGACY CHALLENGE - CLASSIC FILMS - RULES

When Get Famous came out, I wanted to play a legacy challenge that incorporated some of the new things that came with the pack. I didn't see any right away so I decided it was time to create my own. Spending some time considering a direction, it felt like Get Famous naturally followed to a cinema themed legacy. Hence, the Silver Screen Sims Legacy Challenge. Actually, I developed two different versions of this challenge. This one that is inspired by Classic/Golden Era of Hollywood films and another which uses 80's movies. I put that in its own thread. You can find that HERE I worked hard to make sure there is very little overlap of career, aspirations or other tasks between the two. So, you could easily decide to play just one, play both or even have this be one big massive 20 generation legacy if you wanted and not have much repeat itself. The challenges use something from every pack from the Base Game on up to Get Famous. You could probably play around a couple things if you don't have a pack but it is going to be difficult if you have large gaps in the collection. ==== Silver Screen Sims Legacy Challenge - Classic Films Each generation of this legacy is inspired by a classic Hollywood film. Basic Rules: Start with a Young Adult Sim. Either one you created especially for this or one you previously made. They should, for reasons that will play out in the challenge, human. Gender and any other appearance elements don't matter. Don't cheat unless you are told to in the rules. What's the point of that? There is no point scoring here, just the reward of the fun telling the story of your Silver Screen Sims Legacy. Using creative content is up to you as long as it isn't a cheat or it replaces an object required to complete a generation. I don't use any but that's just a personal choice. Unless otherwise stated in the rules for a generation, you can live anywhere you want. Similarly, color outside the lines all you want as long as you hit the action rules for each generation. Let's get started...... Generation One: Grapes of Wrath After your family lost their farm as a result of a great economic disaster, you decided it was time to move west and start again. You have nothing but your knowledge of how to work the land and a sense of right and wrong. You’ll do your best to make sure neither let you down. Traits: Hot-Headed, Good, Art Lover Aspiration: Freelance Botanist Career: Gardner - Botanist Rules: 1. Move into the lot of your choice in Oasis Springs. It should either already be vacant or you can bulldoze it before moving in. Buy a tent and then use the Money cheat to bring your funds down to zero. You don’t have to wait to get a job but you will be building from the dirt up. 2. Give lot three traits. One must be great soil (you’ll thank yourself later). The other two are up to you. 3. Take a selfie on your new property. Hang it on the wall of your home when you finally build it. This should hang in every home throughout your legacy. 4. Master gardener career and freelance botanist aspiration 5. Always do your laundry with the washtub and clothesline 6. Don’t get married until you have mastered the gardening skill. 7. Ask for a large loan at least once in your life. Generation Two: Mr. Smith Goes To Washington You spent your childhood watching your parent struggle against the system. Now you are on a mission to take that system down. Organizing for charity and writing books to expose corruption is how you will keep your parent’s legacy alive. Traits: Ambitious, Dance Machine,Vegetarian Aspiration: Best Selling Author Career: Politician - Charity Rules: 1. Join the after school Scouting club and collect all the badges. 2. Complete the Politician (Charity) career and Best Selling Author aspiration. 3. Win a Dance Battle 4. Marry somebody you met at a protest rally 5. Obtain the Giving Back and Rally Fame Perks 6. Collect all the festival bubble blower bottles Generation Three: Wizard Of Oz Your parents are so proud of everything they and your grandparents have built for the family in the new land. Of course you understand but, if you are really honest, you are bored of living in the same place and doing the same things. You want to explore, meet new people and do new things. Traits: Dog Lover, Clumsy, Music Lover Aspiration: Friend of The World Career: Astronaut - Space Ranger Rules: 1. Get a dog & become companions. 2. Complete Astronaut (Space Ranger) Career and Friend of the World aspiration 3. Go on Vacation to both Granite Falls and Salvadorada at least once. 4. Master dog training and cooking skills. 5. Cook Pet food recipe at least once a week 6. Become friends with Patchy, The Living Statue and somebody in a animal outfit Generation Four: Singin’ In the Rain There was a great deal to learn from a parent that spent so much time time exploring. That was when you actually got to see them. So much time spent alone led to lots of time playing make believe, putting on puppet shows and just acting into the mirror. Anything to feel less lonely. Now all of that is going be pay off as you take your acting to the silver screen. The world WILL know your name. Traits: Perfectionist, Jealous, Goofball Aspiration: Renaissance Sim Career: Acting Rules: 1. Join after school drama club 2. Master singing skill 3. Declare rain to be your favorite weather. 4. Complete Acting career and Renaissance aspiration. 5. Be on the winning Jokester team at the Hijinks Festival 6. Have several jobs before you decide to get serious about acting. Keep practicing though. Dreams shouldn’t get stale. 7. Fall in love with somebody that is already married, get them to break up with their partner & then marry them. 8. Have at least two children. Generation Five: Some Like It Hot Growing up, your home was obsessed with showbiz. So it is no wonder you got bit by the entertainer bug too. Only one problem. Everybody knows your famous acting parent and doesn’t want to take you seriously. Maybe if you go undercover with a bit of a gender bending look it might help you get a fair shake? Traits: Creative, Romantic, Hates Children Aspiration: Musical Genius Career: Entertainer - Musician Rules: 1. Complete Entertainer (Musician) career and Musical Genius aspiration 2. Declare hot weather your favorite weather 3. Master Media Production & Rock Climbing skills 4. Have a haircut and at least one outfit originally intended for the opposite gender. 5. Always have one of your siblings living in the same home as you 6. Wait until you are halfway through your adult age to have kids. Generation Six: The Day The Earth Stood Still Maybe they never said it outright but you always felt like you were an afterthought for your parents. Did they even really want you? You’re not going to let that get you down though. You’ll build your own big happy family and make sure they always know how much they are wanted. Traits: Family Oriented,Outgoing,Slob Aspiration: Big Happy Family Career: Scientist Rules: 1. Master Gourmet Cooking, Handiness and Skating skills 2. Complete Big Happy Family aspiration and Scientist career 3. Marry teenage sweetheart 4. Become best friends with an alien 5. Take photos with all of your teenage children and hang on the wall. 6. Win the Curry contest at the Spice Festival Generation Seven: Mildred Pierce Face it. Your parents did an amazing job. Love was all around you growing up and they raised you to have real belief in yourself. You know you can do anything. Even if that means eating baked goods all the time. Also, now that you think of it, did getting that much love all the time setup impossible standards for your future romantic partners to try to meet? Traits: Foodie, Bro, Self-Assured Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy Career: Business - Management Rules: 1. Master baking, charisma and flower arranging skills 2. Complete Business (Management) career and Fabulously Wealthy aspiration 3. When at home, eat nothing but baked goods you prepared yourself & honey from your bee box. 4. Get married and divorced twice. Have a child with each spouse. 5. Start a club with just your siblings as members. Meet at least weekly. Generation Eight: Arsenic and Old Lace Why is family alway so up in your grill? Surely they can recognize your genius? Then why won’t they just get out of your way and let your plans unfold? Still, keep your enemies close, as they say. Traits: Genius,Self-Absorbed,Mean Aspiration: Public Enemy Career: Criminal - Boss Rules: 1. Master herbalism, mischief and bowling skills 2. Complete Criminal (Boss) career and Public Enemy aspiration 3. Have two of your Aunts or Uncles move in with you, if they are still alive. 4. Buy Dr. June's Weather Control Device 5. Be enemies with a sibling 6. Get married on Halloween 7. Obtain the Play the Villain fame perk. Generation Nine: On The Town Enough with this small town life. Like your your great, great, great, great grandparent, you want to see and do EVERYTHING. So why haven’t you moved to the big city yet? Now is your time! Paint the town red and make the city yours! Traits: Cheerful, Glutton, Bookworm Aspiration: City Native Career: Critic - Food Rules: 1. Skip school at least once 2. Move to San Myshuno 3. Master Athletic and Comedy skills 4. Complete the Critic (Food) career and City Native aspiration 5. Always take the Work From Home option 6. Have a pet of some variety. 7. Marry somebody who works as a food or souvenir stall vendor. Generation Ten: High Society Wow. Your ancestor that first moved to that dusty lot in Oasis Springs couldn’t even have imagined where your family is now. You don’t want for much. The world is at your fingertip. Newspapers report on your love-life. Yet, you have a way of sabotaging your own happiness. When will you ever learn what...or who...is truly good for you? Traits: Insider, Materialistic, Childish Aspiration: Soulmate Career: Social Media - Internet Personality Rules: 1. Complete Social Media (Internet Personality) career and Soulmate aspiration. 2. Master DJ Mixing trait 3. Marry your soulmate, divorce them, date somebody else and then remarry your soulmate 4. Take a yoga class & get a message at a spa 5. Hire a butler 6. Have a lifestyle brand Have fun! I can't wait to see what stories plat out. Share as much as possible! Use #SilverScreenSims in the Gallery and on social media so we can follow each other's progress there too. I plan on streaming a lot of my legacy play on Twitch. I'm Sims4Sarah everywhere.

[nintendotreehouse]

Exploring Skyrim Part III: The Self-Made Dragonborn, an Introduction to Crafting

You’ve fought through bloody bandit outposts, slain mammoths and giants, and had to sift through and throw out every pot and plate you picked up by mistake because you can barely walk. Making your way back to town, you check in at your favorite blacksmith to see what’s new in store to realize that it’s six iron daggers and one enchanted leather shield that costs a good five times the gold you have on hand… What’s a dragonborn to do? Well, let me tell you!

There’s a plethora of non-combat skills in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, from crafting to thievery, that help you create a well-rounded character and let you make use of every little item you find out in the world. Here I’d like to offer some skill-related tips related to some of the more…interesting…situations I’ve gotten myself into in this game to help you get an idea of what kinds of characters can revolve around these skills.

Fighting the more magical denizens of Skyrim may take more than just a normal sword and shield.

In this post, we’ll check out the three “main” skill trees for crafting in Skyrim:

Smithing

Alchemy

Enchanting

Each of these skill trees plays off the others. Say you use Smithing to craft a righteous new mace for your paladin-themed character. You could then enchant that mace with Turn Undead to send the reanimated horde fleeing in fear. Cool, right? But enough hypothetical fluff. Let’s get to some details!

Smithing: Forging your destiny, one ingot at a time

First up, Smithing. A good smith can take various ores and animal parts found in the world and craft them into what can become some of the most powerful gear in the game. Typically, you’ll stock up on materials from merchants or dungeon escapades and head over to a forge to create whatever piece of equipment you have your eyes on, be it simple steel or more exotic materials such as glass, Dwemer metal, or even Dragonbone.

I made one of my character’s goals in life to take over the local legendary blacksmith’s job.

Most perks in the Smithing tree unlock the ability to work with better materials you find out in the world. Make use of the grindstone and workbench as well to boost the base damage or armor rating of items you currently own to greater heights, dependent on your Smithing skill.

With the Hearthfire expansion, which is included in the game for Nintendo Switch, housing components were added to the Smithing line, so if you want to make yourself a custom abode to store all your knickknacks, you’ll want to get cozy with that forge and anvil.

Enchanting: Making the arcane work for you

Next in line is Enchanting, the art of infusing gear with magical properties. Skilled enchanters can do anything from adding elemental damage to weapons, boosting health and carrying capacity, enhancing skills, and even increasing how much power you pack when bareknuckle boxing.

To enchant something, you need a soul crystal with a trapped soul inside. How this isn’t terrifying is still a mystery to me, but the denizens of Skyrim seem to not be bothered much by the idea of writhing life-forces stuck in shiny rocks. You can find and purchase full crystals, but filling empty ones is generally the cheaper way to get started. All you need is to cast the Soul Trap spell from Conjuration on something and kill it to fill a crystal in your inventory. (There’s an enchantment for Soul Trap as well which, when slapped onto a weapon of choice, is pretty convenient.)

Even bound weapons like these babies can trap the souls of your enemies with the right perk.

Once you’ve filled some crystals, make your way over to an enchanting table. (There are a few in dungeons with necromancers for…obvious reasons, but most major cities have them too, including over at Dragonsreach in Whiterun.) Pick your crystal, item, and enchantment, and you’re good to go. The strength of the enchantment depends on your perks, skill, and the quality of the trapped soul.

Rumors in arcane circles mention some kind of soul gem that isn’t consumed upon use…but I’ll leave that up to you all to find out for yourselves.

Alchemy: Drinking your way to success

Last of the three big ones is Alchemy. This art takes natural and supernatural ingredients from fish eggs to ghost ectoplasm and cooks them up into potions with almost any effect you can think of.

In that sense, alchemy really feels akin to cooking in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. You can venture out in the open, gathering all kinds of mushrooms, bugs, flowers, and monster bits, and discover which combinations work the best through trial and error. You’d be surprised with what kind of potions you can brew up.

That being said, the effects of a potion or poison depend on what ingredients you put in. For example, wheat has healing properties, so when mixed with some Blisterwort you found in a cave it’ll make a potion of Restore Health. The fun is when you start to add and mix different ingredients to layer effects.

Take, say…some Deathbell picked from the local cemetery, mix in a River Betty you snagged out of the lake next to town, and then toss in a bee that was bothering you over by the honey farm and you’ll get a poison that when applied to a weapon not only slows stricken enemies down but saps their stamina by a bunch as well. Not too shabby to take care of that tough-looking bandit chieftain.

A special mention should go to giant’s toes. If you can get a hold of one or two, they have immense healing properties.

Alchemy is also a great way to make some gold in the world of Skyrim. The better the potion, the more profitable, and certain effects sell for quite a bit more than others.

Fields of gold, ripe for the picking. Plants and animals to harvest can be found all over Skyrim.

One last thing to mention here is that you can also nom on ingredients to discover a few traits they have without having to guess. It’s always a good idea to taste test an ingredient first to flesh out what you can create.

Cooking: An honorable mention

On top of the “big three” of Skyrim crafting skill trees, Cooking deserves an honorable mention, as you can use a cooking pot to roast up a wide selection of dishes and treats that will restore health, magika, and stamina depending on the recipe. It’s a nice little way to keep topped off during your adventuring.

One last word to the wise, however, don’t neglect your combat skills for only crafting, or you won’t be able to wield that cool new sword you made effectively against powerful enemies.

Now get to thinking about what YOU can whip-up for your next character!

That wraps up the crafting side of this game’s non-combat skills, but there’s still a good deal you can do beyond waving your swords and spells about. Join me next time for a dive into the underbelly of Skyrim and go over some skills from the Thief style of play.

—James M.