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alessiasfreckles · 11 months ago

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amnesia - part 4 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

warnings: none!

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“Well, what’s the story of our friendship? Is there anything I should know about there? Any drama that happened, any secrets? Please, no more secrets,” you said with a wry smile.

Alexia took a deep breath.

“We became friends pretty quickly, when you moved to Barcelona. You’re a very easy person to be friends with, an easy person to like,” Alexia said. “You spent a lot of time with me, and a lot of time with Ona. At the start, I… I was jealous, actually.”

“Of me?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Maybe? Of Ona, of both of you, I think.”

“Why?”

She took a breath, picking at her nails. “Like I said, you’re a very easy person to like. You’re very pretty, you’re amazing on the pitch, you’re kind and funny.”

Her words hung in the air for a minute.

“You liked me? As in, romantically?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Si,” she said, looking down at her hands. Her cheeks were pink.

“Your hair- it used to be pink, right?” you said suddenly, images of a pink ponytail flashing to mind.

“I- si, did you remember?” she asked, looking up at you.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Um, do you still like me? Like that?”

Alexia shrugged noncommittally, not meeting your eye, then sighed. “Si - but nothing has to change. I do not want anything to change between us. We are very good friends, I would never want to lose that.”

“Okay, then. Nothing will change,” you agreed. “Although, I don’t really remember much about what it was like before, so for all I know this could be entirely different to how things used to be. It’s kind of weird, not really knowing what I’m like or what my life was like. Really weird, actually.”

Alexia, who had been quiet since her admission, brightened up. “I have an idea!” she said, sitting up straight. “What if I show you what your life was like before? I can take you to your favourite places, show you what you usually would do!”

“That sounds great!”

“It will have to be after training,” she said, frowning. “Will you be okay during the day on your own?”

You waved her off. “I’ll manage. It’ll give me time to go through everything here, try to remember more.”

By the time Alexia left for the night (after repeatedly asking if you were sure that you’d be okay on your own, and if you needed anything to call her, or anyone else from the team), you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Despite how tired you were, getting into what was supposedly your own bed felt wrong, and you spent the night twisting and turning, unable to get comfortable.

Still, waking up and seeing something other than the hospital walls felt like a step in the right direction. You spent the morning going through everything you could find in your apartment that could give you clues about who you were. A journal from when you’d first moved to Barcelona (that you’d only managed to write three entries in before giving up) described your first days with the team, how nervous you’d been and how welcomed Alexia made you feel, and how you were so intimidated by Ona and how attractive she was but that she was so friendly to you, immediately putting you at ease. A paragraph about Alexia made you pause, the way you had written almost made it sound like you had a crush on her, the way you described her, raving about how good she was at football, how nice she was, how pretty. It was followed by another paragraph about Ona, and how amazing she was, and you rolled your eyes at your past self.

Reading about Ona felt weird, and you put the journal back, trying to push the thoughts of her out of your mind. Still, when you got hungry you were reminded of her once again, the fridge full of food that she had prepared for you. You pulled a covered bowl out to find a handwritten note on top, telling you what food was inside, with a smiley face and a heart. You told yourself that the funny feeling in your stomach was purely due to being hungry, nothing else, but you carefully left the note on the counter, not wanting to throw it away.

By the time Alexia arrived you were starting to feel a little stir crazy, your leg making it hard to move around.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you told her as you opened the door.

“Hello to you, too,” she laughed.

“Yes, hi. I miss going outside, and I’m all ready for our trip!” you told her, waving your crutches in the air.

“Woah, okay, I can see that!” she ducked as you waved your crutches a little too close to her head. “Okay, the first place we are going to go is a café nearby. It is your favourite. Usually you walk but I think we will drive.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you said, slumping a little. You’d been looking forward to moving a little, your body feeling tense from inactivity. “You’re too sensible.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards as she suppressed a smile.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the café. You took a deep breath as you hobbled inside, and the smell of coffee and fresh pastries filling your lungs. It instantly felt familiar, and you were drawn to a seat by the window.

Alexia watched as you moved to sit down, smiling. “That’s your favourite spot. You always sit there.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I like to watch the people going past.”

She raised an eyebrow, and you cocked your head, then realised what you’d said. “Huh. I don’t know where that came from, but it feels right.”

You watched Alexia as she ordered at the counter, thinking about what she’d told you last night. You weren’t sure how to feel - remembering her words made your stomach flutter, but you weren’t sure why. When she sat down, a drink for each of you and a pastry on a plate, you felt a sudden wave of emotion.

“This is my favourite, right? This is what I always get,” you asked, and she nodded, smiling shyly. “You remembered?”

“Of course, chiqui,” she said.

As you ate, you talked about football, which seemed like a safe topic. Your mind kept wandering though, thinking about the way that Alexia had known where to take you. She knew your favourite café, your usual order, she had known all the right things to say to you. You felt your cheeks warming up as you realised how much she cared about you, your old journal entry coming to mind, and you caught yourself wondering why nothing had ever happened between you.

“You seem distracted,” Alexia said, interrupting your stream of consciousness. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, uh, not much,” you quickly said. “Just about training, when I’ll be able to go back.”

“Ah,” she said, frowning. “I am not sure. Maybe you can ask the doctor on Friday?”

You nodded, your cheeks still pink. As you reached for your drink, your phone vibrated on the table.

[Ona:] Please can we meet, and talk? Tomorrow?

#hannah writes fics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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zigrethsnotebook · 2 months ago

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[PASSIONATE KISS]

Ford x Reader

words: 1,850

tags: sfw, angst, fluff

a/n: realized i never wrote a proposal story for Ford so here you go<3

Ford had been out on an expedition for three days. He’d told you it would be too dangerous for you to come along and even though you had strongly protested he would not budge. So now here you were, waiting for your boyfriend to return from his trip that he’d assured you would take no more than 24 hours.

“Either I find them immediately or I won’t find them at all.” Was what he had told you. But knowing this and that he considered the whole endeavor extremely dangerous had left you incredibly anxious. What if something happened to him? You’d never be able to find him in those woods.

Stan tried his best to reassure you, told you: “Hey, the guy’s been running around different dimensions for thirty years. Give him some credit. He won’t go down that easily.” It helped. But today you could hear in Stan’s voice that he was beginning to feel a little uncertain about it as well.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You were restless, turning from side to side and trying to shut your thoughts out with music and podcasts and anything you could turn the volume up enough to drown them out. The fears of Ford not coming back.

Eventually, you got up, walked aimlessly around the shack, stared out a window for an hour and then turned to head back to bed, giving sleep another shot. Except your feet didn’t walk you to your bed but instead downstairs into Ford’s lab.

As if you were guided by invisible strings you walked straight to Ford’s desk, sitting down on his chair and wrapping yourself in the lab coat he had thrown over the backrest of the chair. It smelled like him. You pulled it around you and up to your nose. This was the closest to him you’d felt since he left.

You pulled the chair closer to his desk and took his third journal out of its place on the shelf. Ford was carrying the fourth edition with him right now. You flipped through it, chuckling at all the entries the kids had left in it. Then you got the part where Ford got it back. Right around the time you two met.

Amongst his stories of different dimensions and discoveries about the world as it was now, thirty years after he had left it, there were sketches of your face scattered between. Always with little annotations about how gorgeous he thought you looked that day or something new he learned about you. Your favorite Ice-cream flavor, your least favorite beach boys song or whatever he had found the guts to ask you that day.

The memories brought tears to your eyes. What if all of that would now be forever in the past? What if he won’t ever be back?

You turned the page again and found a picture of you both dancing together at the kids’ fourteenth birthday party this year. Mabel had taken the photo and given it to Ford. Seeing you both so happy was too overwhelming. Some tears slipped from your eyes and onto his coat.

You flipped the page once more, not able to keep looking at that photo of you both. The next page had just one sentence that Ford had written. It was the last page of this journal.

To be continued in Journal 4… hopefully with wedding pictures ♡

Your breath hitched. What? No. This… You two had never spoken about marriage. In fact, when did he write this? You didn’t remember this being in here. Your thoughts raced a million miles an hour.

So much so, that you didn’t even hear Ford entering the Lab and walk up behind you. When he saw your hunched up trembling form and the page of the journal you were looking at he softly called out your name. You jumped in surprise and quickly turned around.

“Ford!” You called out, stood up and fell around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I was so worried for you, Ford.” You mumbled into his shoulder, but he understood, hugging you tighter as well. “I know, love. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to take so long.”

After a moment you pulled back slightly and placed your hands on either side of his face. With a stern face you told him: “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? 24 hours… you were gone for three whole days!” Ford chuckled sheepishly. “Four days, actually. It’s already past midday, love.” Flabbergasted, you stared at him. “That’s even worse!”

Only now did Ford look at you. Like, really look at you. And his face fell as he saw the state you were in. Heavy bags under your eyes, tear lines staining your cheeks that haven’t even dried. You were still in your pyjamas with just his dirty lab coat protecting you from the cold of the lab. And it wasn’t doing a particularly good job - you were shivering.

Guilt flooded Ford’s systems at the sight. He raised one of his hands from your waist to your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb. You immediately leaned into his touch. “I am so very sorry, love. I shouldn’t have taken so long. I’m so sorry.” He whispered the last part as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

You sighed. Just having him here with you again felt like a heavy weight was lifted off of your shoulders. In a much softer tone you told him: “Just don’t leave me like this again. If something takes longer than expected, find a way to let me know. I know you can.”

Snaking your arms back around his neck, you pulled his body closer to yours, your own seeking the warmth of his. “I felt so helpless. If something had happened to you, I-” Your voice broke off, unable to finish the sentence. “I know, love.”

After a few moments just enjoying being able to hold each other again, Ford let the hand from your cheek fall to his coat pocket, fumbling around in it. He chuckled, the noise sounding a little bittersweet, when he found what he was looking for. He pulled back from you slightly and looked into your eyes.

“I also know that this is probably the worst moment to bring this up, but: Do you know what I was looking for out there?” You shook your head ‘no’. This better not be about some creature right now. Now was not the time.

“Well, I only told you that the expedition would be dangerous, because I didn’t want you to come along and I knew that would be the only way to get you to stay home.” He smiled warmly at you, your stubbornness being something he loved so much about you.

“But it really wasn’t all that dangerous at all. Because, what I was really looking for was something that would complete… something. Something I’ve been meaning to give to you for a while now and… something I felt wasn’t worthy of being yours yet… It needed something special.”

You furrowed your brows at him, confusion taking over you. Ford softly let his hands wander to your arms, unwrapping them from himself as he continued. “And… I was looking for this something in that spaceship that sits under the town and also in the cave systems beneath the mountain. Well, two somethings really.” You felt him drift off into some sort of story as you saw his eyes start darting around the room.

“Ford. What are you talking about?” His eyes landed back on you. “Right.” He cleared his throat, trying not to freak out. His hand wandered back into his coat pocket and as soon as he found this mysterious object, he got down on one knee.

Your eyes widened in shock and you gasped. Ford didn’t know this, but with him returning you had completely forgotten about the last page of his journal.

He pulled a little black box out of his pocket and held it in front of him. “Right. I went to the spaceship to find the rarest metal in the solar system. Then I went to the cave systems to find the shiniest crystal on the planet. With those I went to visit Fiddleford, who graciously helped me weld the metal into a shape that could hold the crystal.”

Ford took a deep breath and opened the box revealing a marvelous silver ring, welded into intricate patterns that surely held some sort of meaning, holding a deep blue crystal that looked like it reflected the universe itself. You gasped again and let your hands cover your open mouth as you continued to stare at the man in disbelief.

“I couldn’t let you come along because I wanted this to be a surprise for you. I… You deserve the universe and all the good within it and I am more than willing to give it to you. So here I am. Asking you,” then he said your full legal name. “Will you please marry me?”

By now there were new tears running down your cheeks, but this time they were tears of joy and happiness. You nodded your head as you sobbed out a “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you, Ford!” and fell into his arms again. Ford hugged you tightly, all the worries that had plagued him for taking so long washing away in an instant.

You pulled away again slightly, giving Ford the opportunity to slide the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, like it was made to be there. That’s because it was.

Ford held the hand that wore the ring in both of his, cradling it like it was made of glass. He looked at it with so much love and affection that you felt your own heart swell with love as well. When he looked up at you again, you leaned in for a kiss.

Your first kiss in four days and also your first kiss as an engaged couple. You basically devoured the man. Ford wasn’t any better. Both of you took this kiss and put all the emotions of the past four days into it. All the stress and worries. All the hope and love.

Ford was first to turn his head slightly and deepen the kiss, one of his hands wandering to the back of your neck, holding you close. Not that you wanted to leave. You parted your lips slightly and nibbled on his lower lip. This caused Ford to moan softly and his tongue to leave the confines of his own mouth and instead explore yours.

While this was happening you both moved your bodies so that Ford and you fully sat on your legs. You didn’t sit on his lap like this because you knew his legs would fall asleep immediately. It had happened before.

After a while you broke the kiss, panting slightly. Ford let his forehead rest against yours again. “I don’t think I’ll leave you again any time soon.” You chuckled. “Yeah. You better not.”

#anytime something in the kiss series is over 1k words long i'm like huh... that wasn't supposed to happen #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #zigreth writes #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader

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sweetflanfiction · 22 days ago

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Asymetrical Symphony - Part 20

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19

• ··········· • ············ •

Alena's amused chuckle made you feel a little at ease when she placed her hands on the sheets and pulled them away after adding a mint medical mask on her face.

“So…” She started talking at the same time her gloved hands touched skin, and you took a deep breath. “...you go from wanted criminal to the heir of an up-and-coming minor house. And if that's not enough, you are buddies with the great founders of Hextech, one of whom is a councillor.”

"You forgot that I am also the center of a lot of gossip." You kept your eyes on her hands, almost willing them to keep being human.

"I know!" Her eyes squinted in delight, and she let her hands stay there for a moment. "Rags to riches!"

“What can I say?” You relaxed as the weight, warmth, and feel of her hand became normal against you.

She subtly nodded, her eyes becoming soft and then shifting to a more jovial and casual gaze. Her hands slowly made their way towards the bandages on your wounds.

“Mmm…How about... how's the view from up there?” She joked, and you felt her slowly peel off one of the bandages.

“Heh...Not particularly exciting. A lot of egos and dinner parties." You rolled your eyes, and Alena inspected the wounds, poking at the one she had unbandaged.

You nodded, signaling you were alright, and she kept going.

"I would love to be a fly on the wall." She stopped prodding and looked straight at you, eyes swimming with humor.

"Trust me...It's not that thrilling. You go to one, you go all. After a few of those, even the gossip becomes stale."

"I don't believe that." She pushed a small wheeled tray that one left next to the bedside table and started to clean the wound. You flinched at the sting, and she looked at you.

Alena grabbed a new sterile bandage and glued it in place, moving towards another. It didn't hurt or make your mind jump through the hoops of panic, but it was uncomfortable, mostly because the wounds felt foreign. Like when you'd discover a paper cut that you didn't know you had.

"I've heard the story that I am the illegitimate daughter of my mother about a hundred times. Or that I am only here for her money."

"They tell you that to your face?" She sounded shocked.

"Nah...but they say it to Mel's face, who then tells it to Jayce, who then tells it to Viktor, who then tells it to me." You rolled your eyes. "Sometimes, Jayce just skips the Viktor part and goes straight to me."

"Imagine that... Having the councilors of this great city doing your dirty work." You both laughed at her tone.

“Sky Young.” You looked up at Alena. “Do you know how she is? Viktor told me she was a little shocked with what happened, but nothing more.”

“Miss Young is a little shaken up, yes, but other than that, healthy. The doctors are advising her to stay at home for a couple of days." Alenas restarted her wound inspections, her hands no longer feeling strange to your skin. "I believe that seeing someone get shot by three bolts is not exactly in her job description. She was brought in with you. According to the two hex-heads, she fainted."

Alena started on the last wound and took a deep breath, and you noticed she was looking at the last wound with curiosity and doubt.

"Hex-heads?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The heads of Hextech." She winked at you, and you shook your head.

"Ah! I gotta keep that one for next time."

"I'll be here all night."

“Well, whatever they got in the water over on the top Topside, it got you healing fast." You moved your neck to try and peek at the wounds, Alena moving her hand to let you see. "When they admitted you, you were on the straight and narrow to get a blood transfusion ASAP."

They looked like ugly brown holes in your skin, scabby and slightly angry. The edges were still red, but they looked healthy from where you sat. Your eyes shifted to her questioning.

"They look like they were healing for a week; it's been 2 days. You should start selling whatever they have been giving you to eat or drink." She sounded like she was laughing, but something in her voice told you there was something there, a little ping in her tone that gave it a twang of suspicion. You've heard it in Viktor's accent before; it was unmistakable.

“I felt them go through me.” You lied easily with one hand pointing to the back, and Alena nodded.

"Those are healing just as well, if not faster." There it was, the little hint that there was something she wasn't telling you. "I saw them before you woke up when your knight in a shining cane went to the cafeteria."

She resumes her ministrations, cleaning and redressing the remaining wound. Her fingers were gentle but efficient, not lingering more than needed.

“They look almost cauterized." She poked one harder, and you flinched. "Sorry."

You shook your head, dismissing it, now more interested in what she was thinking than the discomfort. There was a glint in her eyes, and you were the best friend of two scientists; some of their curiosity was bound to rub off on you.

She sighed and redressed the last wound, then she looked at the clock in the room and leaned a hip on your bed.

"Is that one special?" You joked when she took more time on that one than the rest.

"Oh. No... Sorry." She straightened up, and you raised both your eyebrows.

"Oh come on now, don't keep me in suspense here. What's going on?"

Uh-oh.

“Councilor Tallis...Jayce...says it was in did cauterized by the bolt because he was working on some crystals."

“You don’t sound very convinced.” She gave you a one-shoulder shrug very similar to those that Viktor gave when he knew something and he wanted to tell you, but you had to fish it out of him. “Go on…”

“What do you know of magic?” She asked, looking at the last wound and refreshing it with the whitest bandage you’ve ever seen.

“Well, my Babička…Grandmother…Knew someone who had magic. He had come to Zaun when my grandmother was still a child, and he was already very old, and that’s how she knew he had to be magic.”

“That's not a type of medicine you study in nursing school.” You tried to make a joke, quickly hiding your shock at her question.

"Well, you wanted to know." She shrugged and started to clean up the tray, taking off her mask in the process.

"Alright. I don't know much." You lied, flexing your scarred hand under the sheets. "I know fairytales and old stories.”

Alena looked at you, her eyes bright with excitement over telling this story to someone. With every word, her accent became closer and closer to the Zaunite lilt. You noticed her tidying up task became more of an excuse to be here than anything else.

“Your grandmother knew someone was a mage because he was old?” You hit the button to bring your bed head upwards slightly, your neck already in pain from craning it up.

“No…Well, yes. Because every time she saw him, he was always old.” She grabbed a small cotton ball and embedded it with alcohol, slowly cleaning anything she could find on that tray. “She would talk to him sometimes, and he never denied he was magic.”

“Did he ask her for money? Because that sounds like a scam to me.” You grinned at her.

“That’s because you are a topsider…” She joked, and you nodded after a while, recognizing the jab as true. “Anyway, he wandered around Zaun for a while carving strange symbols into the stone of certain places in the Undercity. Not just stone. Some people say they saw him write things in the air. Sometimes he would disappear for years at a time and then reappear, carve another symbol, and puff…gone.”

“Sounds like an asshole…leaving your grandmother hanging like that.” You joked, and she snorted, shrugging nonchalantly.

It amused you to no end that her accent became deeper and more pronounced with each word, and at the same time you were apprehensive about the old man.

“Yes, but one time she says she asked him what the symbols were, and he just said ‘kouzelnictví’...magic...”

“He answered that with that exact word? He was a Zaunite?!”

“Well, I’m sure Zaun is not the only place in Runeterra with that tongue. Besides, if he is magic, I suppose he can talk in any language, no?"

"Anyway, she asked him what the last symbol he had carved was, and he said 'oheň'...fire.” She became more excited, leaving the tools on the tray and starting to talk with her hands. “And my grandmother got scared. Most of Zaun at the time was very flammable. But he told her that fire is not always bad. It is what people in a snowstorm desire the most, the warmth of a fire. It could destroy but also be used to weld and create beautiful, perfect things.”

“...Fire heals more than it destroys.” She said with finality and showed you the skin on her wrist. "Grandmother opened an apothecary not long after, and after that everyone in the family became a healer."

You frowned, pensive, your eyes unfocusing on her for a moment.

The ceiling in red tones, the soft boiling sound, the black cracks, the burning sensation in your abdomen. All fire-related.

Your eyes focused on her exposed wrist and widened, a single breath caught in your throat.

Tattooed on her wrist was a familiar shape. In bright reds and oranges was a mirrored and smaller version of the rune that had appeared on the ceiling of the lab. You wanted to touch it but were afraid you would unwillingly speak it, making it jump out of her skin and do something.

“And how can you heal someone with fire?” Alena turned her sleeve back down, and you looked at her, eyes still wide. “Cauterizing. You can stop something as dangerous as a lost limb by burning the stump. Your body temperature flares up to fight infections.”

For a second you just blinked at her, your mind reeling at the thought of this old mage going around Zaun drawing runes.

"You think I was healed by magic?" You managed to splurt out in your state of astonishment.

"I don't know, but... I saw the wounds when you arrived; they were burned on the edges, and then the healing process? It's too quick to be natural." She came closer to you and whispered. "If you ask me, they were doing something with magic... real magic! The ancient kind, not their usual kind."

"A twelve-sided—"

"What other runes... did your grandma know?"

"Oh..." She stopped for a while, her eyes searching for an answer. "She didn't mention it anymore, but as she got older, she got obsessed with dodecahedrons, and when we asked her about it, she always talked about the old man."

Your face dropped when a memory of a blackboard with twelve bullet points on it flashed into your brain.

You laughed as naturally as you could, and she grinned back at you. The casual conversation was interrupted by someone calling Alena on the hospital speaker. You found out then she also didn't have a last name.

"Twelve facets of the arcane." You mumbled, and Alena's eyes narrowed. "The arcane has twelve basic facets, sides...like a dodecahedron..."

"So you do know about magic..."

"I only connected it now. They use it in hextech. Or tried to...I don't know..."

"Oh, spilling secrets now are we?" She joked, but when your face didn't accompany her humor, she paused. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Sorry." You tried to quickly put yourself together. "Viktor and I were talking about it the other day, and now you talked about it... I was just surprised by the coincidence."

"Oh! Well, maybe I am right and you were healed by it...You call on it, and it answered."

"Duty calls." She patted your knee. "I'll check back on you later. You should rest before visiting hours; I'm sure at least your mother will want to barrel in here."

You laughed softly and nodded.

Alena opened the door and waved back at you, clipboard in hand, and waved at you, completely oblivious to the running thoughts in your head.

“Oh... Wait..." You called when she reached the door. "Do you…Can you tell me where these symbols are?”

“Mmmm. Sorry. I wouldn't know. They probably built over them. If it's even true." She gave you a sad smile.

“Yeah, you're right.”

You hadn't lied to her...not completely. You and Viktor had indeed talked about this. Just not in this dimension.

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@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane reader

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princesserica84 · 20 days ago

Note

Howdy, let me start off with no hate for you just here trying to help clear up a few things it seems from your post you dont know which is normal since you no a US citizen. again just trying to help you understand not an attack just trying help. 1 on the whole nazi wave https://www.tumblr.com/busterballsblog/773398848248987648?source=share also post is not the full clip here https://youtu.be/5e5Dz2EvuOY?si=NPvB0sq5Qjk2NHDK these should help you better see the whole story and facts. 2 UK, CA, GR,FR all have hate speech as a legal thing in the USA its already been ruled by highest court and even liberal judges agreed no such thing as hate speech in this USA. where each of the nations i listed have jailed people based on their words some where even jokes on stage. but in USA we have the right to say anything but a DIRECT call to action. but just as we each have the right of free speech means all sides have a voice to say as they wish. something that very different our rights listed out in black and white cant be taken away by government for any reason where yours and UK, FR and GR can and have been in name of "Greater Good". in USA its about the 1 not the Greater Good when it comes to rights. 3 on whole trans topic here the the issue its illegal to force someone to talk a set way in the usa. just as your name is Erica you cant force people to call you that they can say HEY YOU or they can call you E all they want and no law is broken in the USA. next part of this is wanting tax payers to fund trans medical issues that are not life threatening is not our way not because they trans but because they have no right to my money. also their proof this has been forced on kids ie people under 18 which is in fact grounds to remove and sue a teacher for forcing their views on kids at school. 4 you clearly listen to USA media well do you know that ABC , NBC, CNN , MSNBC all paid out 100s of millions of dollars in just 3 lawsuits for openly lied about the story and people in it. ABC even had pay Trump 15 million for a lie they told about Trump. so frankly trusting them is not really an option even for liberals have had to admit they wrong. 5 you bring up removing of rights https://www.archives.gov/founding-docs/bill-of-rights-transcript please take a look at our rights and can you link abortions to any right you see listed. ( i am assuming this is right you talking about due to your words. mind you while your looking at our rights look at 2A and then notice how liberals seek to remove rights on guns. i use this as example of how the very view that the right seeks to take away rights is not based in any logic and in fact the left is seeking to remove a right openly. again i hope this helps you understand our system in a fair and balanced way. btw i been from quebec to toronto i will say being that im Texan i understand qubec people the best in CA i have a number of pals up their and yea. to give you idea why people like me love your snow is my city just got 3 inches of snow that all the snow we gotten since 2018 and my summers are 110 F or in the 40s C in the shade with 100% humidity. anyway hope this helps you understand better again no hate just trying to help and i will leave you with how Texans see the rest of north America LOL hope you enjoy the fun joke again no hate just trying help you smile. and if you have any question here or DM me is fine just trying share some help.

^^ I give you, the American education system

Look, I disagree with everything you are saying.

If you want to talk about taking rights away, I'll give you this. A lot of pregnant women have died recently because the hospitals are not able to perform abortions. Today, there was a school shooting in Nashville that killed a 17 year old and injured another. If abortions were legal, and you have gun laws in place that weren't written in the 17th century, many people would still be alive. This isn't opinion, this is fact.

Deaths in Canada caused by guns in 2023: less than 300

Deaths in USA caused by guns in 2023: over 43,000

There's honestly too much wrong with your entire message. I don't think I'm the right person to respond so I will leave it to everyone else.

Also, just so you are aware, your "map" did not make me laugh. It offends me. Canada is my home and I would much rather live here (with free healthcare, gun laws that weren't written over 200 years ago, the right for me to make a decision on my own body, and a place where my transgender friends are free to be who they are) than live in fucking texas.

#us politics #anons being stupid #usa #america #canada #trump #donald trump #princesserica84 #gun violence

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tsukimefuku · 1 year ago

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Let me die

I've been obsessed with a bit for a fic I want to write, so I just decided to put it here. Nanami fluff and some angst ahead, be careful.

Disclaimer: NO ONE DIES, it’s just a conversation in a bar where y/n requests something.

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)

Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

You had just finished a mission that left a pretty bad taste in your mouth. You were forced to choose between two people to save, and one of them was your friend. Was.

The glare she had as she embraced her beloved's dead body made you sure that she would never forgive you for saving her instead of him. You chose to save her for egotistical reasons, you knew that. You knew (or thought you knew) that his death would not weigh on your shoulders as much hers would. However, you just didn't account in your egotistical equation how much his death would weigh on her, and how much more suffering you bestowed upon her by choosing to let him die in exchange for her life.

"Nanami, I need to drink." you said on the phone. "I had a horrible day. I'd like some company."

"We can meet at the bar by your house at 7PM." He promptly replied.

You and Nanami had grown close during the course of the last few months. He was assigned to you as your informal mentor until you were promoted from a grade 2 to a grade 1 sorcerer. There was some history before you went to work for Jujutsu High. Both of you met when he was on a mission that led to him eventually saving your life, and your gratitude eventually started to become something more. Sometimes, you wondered if he felt as close to you as you felt to him. These night drinks were turning into a regular thing, and you usually let your mouth say things you couldn't think to say out loud if it weren't for a few beers in, and Nanami being the person you were talking to.

***

After a while, when you spend so much time around somebody, you tend to pick up on their mannerisms, like their brows frowning, the way their mouths twitch when they feel mad, or how they are dead silent because they're drowning in unsaid things.

"What is it?" Nanami asked, out of the blue, surprising you. Both had already been drinking for a while, and you specifically were 4 beers down in misery. "I can hear your thinking from the other side of the table."

“I have a request for you.” You answered.

He took another sip of his drink, and said, unfazed, "What request?"

He inquired like he already knew you wanted to ask something from him, even before you knew you would.

"If you’re ever faced with a situation where you have to choose between saving my life or someone else, don’t choose me." you said. Nanami lifted his gaze to meet yours, and seemed surprised.

You continued. "Please, don’t make me live with the fact that me being alive is because someone died in my place and I had no choice over that. Don’t assign me that guilt.”

It would be something harsh to say to anybody, but you knew Nanami. You knew him well enough to be sure he'd not take that as an accusation of sorts. That's why you chose to tell him this kind of "if this ever happens" desire before telling anybody else. Shoko would probably chastise you for such a request, given you were prone to overthinking and martyrdom, and Gojo would never listen to that in the first place, simply doing whatever he felt like.

Nanami went silent for a while, mulling over what you asked him to do. Different from you, someone that had a little trouble controlling your emotions and how they impact your words and actions, Nanami was the man that you used to call in your head as nerves of steel. You had never seen him lose his composure. Ever.

He started talking, his face lightly flushed from alcohol. “There are two sides for this. You assume I’d be willing to live with the guilt of not saving you when I could have done so."

You were not expecting that answer. He was the most dutiful sorcerer you had ever met — hell, he was the most dutiful person you knew. If there was one thing Nanami was known for, it was not letting his emotions interfere with his judgement when making a decision. You never thought he could ever feel guilty if you died in a situation where you gave him permission to let you die.

"You'd feel guilty?" You questioned.

"Yes." He replied. "Your request would make me live with a guilt I don’t want, either."

"My request of letting me die, with my authorization, to save somebody else?" You inquired.

"Yes." He replied, looking down on his glass.

You were both silent for a moment.

"I can't accept your request, because you’re assigning me your guilt just as much." He took another sip from his now almost empty glass of whiskey. "I don't think I could bring myself to let you die, even if you asked me to.”

That pulled on your heart strings. Hard. You were instantly flooded with all the memories of the time you two spent together working, or simply chatting like this. All the times you had a silent but deep understanding of each other. Could he be...?

"I never pegged you for someone with any dose of egoism of not letting someone go when they'd rather die." You responded.

"Not letting you die." He answered. His answer made you fluster, ever so slightly, and you reclined yourself in your chair, trying to hide your face in the bar's dark ambiance.

“Would you ever curse me for that?” You asked. "Curse me for dying to save somebody else?"

“No, I wouldn't.” He replied. "That's who you are, and that is something about you that I respect, even if I don't understand it."

You chuckled softly, trying not to get too emotional. The alcohol was not helping. “Well, I might just have to curse you, then.” you responded, smiling.

“To curse me for saving you, you'd have to be alive.” He bottomed his drink. "I can live with that.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you

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jay-m3 · 8 months ago

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Hazbin Baby

Episode 1

Male reader insert! Warning* Cursing

Part 1 Next Episode 1 (Part 2) Previous Part 4 of Pilot Pilot Part 1 Charlie and Vaggie

“But Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power.” Charlie mutters out, lightly squeezing the book in her hands. She doesn’t need to read the words written down, already memorized from reading the book multiple times each year.

But this year was different. You sat in her lap, looking down at the book, fascinated by the art of it. Even though you were two, she knew you’re starting to be aware about the world around you. So here she sits, reading you ‘The Story of Hell’ to help you understand or well, more like planting a seed of your origin.

“Her dream passed down to their precious daughter, the Princess of Hell.”

And why those screams outside of the hotel’s walls are so loud. She needs to help them and hopefully…

“And once you’re older, those dreams will help you start your own.” Charlie smiles down at her son who looks up at her when she closes the book.

“Charlie?” The sound of Vaggie startle both you and Charlie, jerking in place as you both look over to the new presence.

“Aah! Oh, shit. Did you hear all that?” Charlie questions, sliding the book away so she can wrap her arms around her son.

“Uh, yeah. I was right there.” Vaggie points her thumb to the doorway as she makes her way towards you both.

“Sorry. I get pre-tty worked up after an extermination happens. The story helps…” Charlie mutters out, looking down at how Keekee jumps up the couch to rub her head on your side.

(M/n) giggles, putting his hand on Keekee to pet her.

“Don't worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Veggie sits down next to you both. She quickly grabs your hand to pull it off from Keekee once she sees how your gentle touches become excitable harsh taps.

“I'm fine. Just... thinking, ya' know? Family stuff.” Charlie gently grabs both your hands once she sees you become fussy about not being able to reach Keekee who sprints away.

You pout as you follow Keekee around with your gaze. She’s so soft! Her fur so smooth and her tail always sways in a hypnotic way that you just want to grasp and pull. You rip your gaze from the black and white furred feline when your mamá picks you up.

“Alright, come on. Alastor says he has something to show us.” Vaggie gently smiles at Charlie before walking out the room.

As her son and girlfriend leave, a loud bell rings throughout the city. Charlie turns to the Bell Tower at Heaven Embassy. She looks on with sadness, knowing that it's another year before the Extermination comes again and another year of knowing that you won’t be able to meet your grandmother yet.

___

“-Wow! All this, and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” Alastor turns off the television once the commercial that he produced was finished.

“So, what do you think?” Alastor leans on his staff, looking at the two females for feedback which that he doesn’t really care.

(M/n) turns away from the tv, seeing as it will be turned off for the day. The blocks around him keeping him entertained as he hears the grown ups talk. Plus building a tower is pretty hard work.

The unsteady structure swaying each time you add another colorful block with no care. As you raise another block a ring from a phone blares out, startling you. The light bump to the tower from your hand brings the tower falling down.

Before any loud clacking could be heard, a shadow tendril quickly devours them before vanishing, leaving a sizable balanced tower.

Smiling wide with a clap, you put the block in your hand on top.

“Hold that thought! I'll be right back.” You look up to see your mommy leave the area. You quickly get up, rushing to follow when Vaggie scoops you up .

“Mommy!” You yell out, trying to squirm out from your mamá’s hold.

“She’s on the phone sweetheart.” Vaggie mummbles out, giving you a squish ball to distract you.

“Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't he just make people stay here?” Angel points at Alastor, continuing the conversation that they were on right before Charlie left.

“Oh, trust me,” Alastor smile widens into a mischievous creepy tilt, “-I can.”

The distortion of his voice startles you, taking a glance at him to see him creepily smiling with a fist in the air.

“Why do you think I'm here?” Husks’ voice takes your attention from the deer in red.

“You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn't forcing me?”

Vaggie sighs at Husks’ choice of words, completely giving up from sheltering your ears from the cursing that seems to have stitched on to everyone’s vocabulary.

“I like being forced.” Niffty pops up from behind the counter with a hand raised, resting down on it once she felt satisfied from letting everyone know.

Husk keeps himself from jumping in suprise, not noticing the little woman scurry behind the bar with him.

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” Husk grumbles out, setting the glass cup that he was cleaning down.

“What? You don't love being here with me, Whiskers?” Angel purrs out, leaning over the couch to get a good view of the male.

“Call me Whiskers again and I'll jam that bottle down your throat.” Husk growls out, leaning over the table to get his point across.

Angel clearly didn’t care as he quickly jabs out, “Kinky. Come on, keep talking dirty.”

Getting bored of the adult conversation, you turn away to play with the squish ball. The texture of it soft to the touch, the colors that exploded inside the ball though is what kept your attention. Seeing it molt and expand when you press and stretch satisfies a feeling inside you.

It seems that your attention snaps back into reality as you felt your mamá get up from the couch that you two were sitting at. Seeing her walk away towards Charlie, you quickly get up to follow your parents that are now out of sight by the wall.

It seems no one notices their absence except for one particular demon who takes his chance on picking you up by the back of your shirt.

Yelping in surprise, you quickly look up to see Alastor, smiling down at you.

From the sudden thrill of being swept from your feet and from his smile that seems contagious to you, you can’t help but let out a laugh.

“So attached.” Alastor states before returning you back to the blocks on the floor.

Being placed down to those colorful wooden blocks, you sit down and raise a block to the red demon, figuring he wants to play since he brought you back to your activity.

Alastor tilts his head at your gestur. After thinking about it, he lets a small tentacle shadow appear in front of you, taking the block away to distract you when the sound of Charlies’ voice sings out the door.

Thankfully you didn’t pay attention to your mommy, happy that you are playing with someone.

#male reader #x male reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty

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austinramsaygames · 10 months ago

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Thinking about Actual Play series and how there are 4 parts that IMO determine if people will want to listen to it.

1. High Concept: this is what the show is about narratively. Setting, plot, characters, themes, all the stuff you'd find in written fiction.

2. Performance: how compelling are the actors involved in the show? Are there suitably funny voices? Do they all have good chemistry? Is there buy in to the High Concept? And so on.

3. Production Quality: Bad mics and poor volume balancing between players can easily take some listeners out of the story. Some of this can be fixed in post, but it's always better to start with the best raw audio you can. That's the baseline stuff but some shows also add music (whether as theme songs or for ambience) and sound effects.

4. The Rules: the most unique part of Actual Play as a format. What rule system are the performers using to inform their performances? The rules place limits on how well the High Concept functions. If you try to tell a story where all the characters are super heroes but you're using Delta Green, there's going to be some friction (which of course could be the basis of the High Concept but absolutely needs to be accounted for).

Different listeners will have different priorities for each of these, and even within them. Really liking one of these aspects within a show may allow a less enjoyable one to get a pass.

For example The Adventure Zone's Balance season is something I listened to every week. I do not give a single shit about D&D actual play and am pretty ambivalent on the High Concept but the audio quality is great and the performances are stellar.

Another example: Friends At The Table's Autumn In Hieron has frequently bad audio quality but the great High Concept of the two diverging parties and the setting, combined with the good performances makes it stand out. Also doesn't hurt that I was interested in Dungeon World.

I don't think I'm saying anything groundbreaking here, but it may be useful for those interested in actual play, fans AND creators, to consider when starting a new show.

More thoughts like this from me on my Patreon! Patrons get early access to my game design work and thoughts. Just $1 a month!

#actual play #actual play podcast #the adventure zone #taz balance #friends at the table #f@tt #autumn in hieron #ttrpg #ttrpg community #my writing

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warping-realities · 8 months ago

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Building an Empire Part I

Okay, I know I said I didn't plan on writing anything new, but it seems that just by making the new images for Making

Amends the desire to try something new appeared. In reality, it's not that new because I'm not writing anything different from what I've written before and even the way the transformation occurs is derived from another story, albeit with some twists. And yes, as the title makes clear we are talking about a series, but I have no idea when the next part will be ready. Finally, this one is a little darker than my usual, so be warned. Hope you like it!

The Partner

Javier stared at the prison cell wall with hatred so deep in his eyes that it could burn a hole in the concrete in front of him. He had been very stupid to let himself get caught in something as stupid as tax evasion. The police had been looking for years for a reason to place him in that exact place without ever having come close to him engaging in any of the criminal activities that formed the basis of the small fortune acquired through his life of crime. At almost forty years of age he had acquired a reputation in the criminal underworld, several gangs and cartels hired his services with the guarantee of a quick and effective solution to any possible problem. An arrest would irreparably tarnish that reputation. And in his field, a man's reputation was his greatest asset, even more so when he had another reputation, that of an insatiable man-eater, who had only gotten away with his actions and the blatant homophobia in his midst due to his impeccable record. In fact, if a look could tear down a wall, Javier's cell would have been open to the outside world for a long time.

….

"Javier Ruiz, suspect in several cases of extortion, drug trafficking and possible involvement in homicides that have never been clarified. Raised by his maternal great-aunt Isabela Ruiz, his father was a member of a cartel killed in an exchange of gunfire with a rival gang before his birth and his heroin-addicted mother died with him in her arms at the age of 3 in the small apartment where they lived, where he would be found 4 days after the incident, dehydrated but still resisting.

Since he was a child, he was known for his enormous size, which earned him his nickname, Golias, Goliath, a name he adopted in the criminal underworld. We have had reports of his activities for more than two decades but without ever being able to link the nickname to the person. Until now.

Thanks to a rookie mistake we finally have him in custody, an opportunity. " Explained to the room a young dark haired cop.

"Indeed, he has precious information, but it seems no one in here is capable to get him to say anything." Police Lieutenant Patrick Walsh spoke in response, with a hard look at his subordinates.

"An opportunity we just missed. His bail was just paid, he's free." Interjected one of the police officers present, Sergeant Adams, a portly black man in his fifties.

"Shit, a completely wasted golden opportunity." Exclaimed the young dar haired and fresh out of the academy, Officer Anthony DiAngelo who was present there only because he was the lieutenant's wife's nephew.

"Maybe not. Sir, I have an idea." Said a strong blond man of about 35 years old with a rigid look and posture. And his idea made the lieutenant's eyes shine with excitement.

…

"Enjoying your freedom while you can Goliath?" asked the blonde detective in front of the police station when Javier was released.

"My name is Javier. And my taxes and bail have been paid, there's no need to bother me detective...?"

"Fischer. Michael Fischer. And I didn't want to bother you Golias, just warn you."

"Warn me, of what?"

"Unfortunately, it seems that the information that you spent the night at the police station has leaked . The rumor going around the city is that you handed over very important people to save your skin."

"Save me from what, a stupid accusation of tax evasion?"

"Ah, but they don't know that, do they?"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Goliath, this son of a bitch here is your best friend right now."

"I have no friends, let alone a pig like you. And if you think I'm going to fall for that stupid move and turn someone in, you're sorely mistaken."

"Well, I'm sure a lot of people have seen you talking to me in the last few minutes, friend." Detective Fischer concluded as he placed a card in Javier's pocket. While Javier, being in front of the police station, could not react the way he wanted and risk being arrested again.

"For when you realize the value of my friendship, Goliath."

…..

Javier was foaming at the mouth, with the money he had accumulated he knew he could live reasonably well in some forgotten third world country. Still, he needed to take Tia Isabel with him and that would be a big problem. How would he go out the country with an elderly illegal woman with the police and the city's biggest criminals on his tail?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! You bastards." He shouted at the roof of the car as he headed to the comfortable apartment he had rented for the aunt who had raised him spend the last years of her life.

"Tia sabel, it's Javi, I'm sorry I didn't come to see you yesterday, I had an unforeseen event and we need to talk about... Tia? Tia?" Said Javier, touching the cold corpse of the woman who had created him and feeling a wave of pain, sadness and already the familiar hate and anger invade him."

"They're going to pay, they're going to pay...damn pigs." He said between tears, hugging his aunt's body. And so he continued for a long time. Until a strange buzzing sound caught his attention. Following the source of the sound he came across a shelf full of trinkets. The buzzing came from a small round golden box. He picked it up and felt it vibrate in his huge hand. Opening it he found a coin made of pure gold that when he picked it up dissolved in his hands, and just like that a whole new range of possibilities opened up to him and despite all the sadness of that moment he couldn't help but smile.

……

"Are you sure it's okay to you take care of Jamie, Will?"

"Yes, Mr. Fischer, you know I've been doing this for years."

"Still, I'd imagine you'd want to enjoy your last few days of spring break before returning to college."

"Ah, you know I've never had the most lively social life. And it's a pleasure to spend some time with him, it's like he's a little brother."

"Thank you very much Will, you know I see you as a nephew too. And I'm sorry again, but Lauren is on night shift at the hospital and this urgent appointment came up."

"Like I said, Mr. Fischer. No problem, it's a pleasure." Replied the twenty-year-old boy standing at the door of Detective Fischer's comfortable suburban home, with a smile on his face.

After giving his eight-year-old son a hug and apologizing for his absence, Michael got into his SUV and responded to the message from the unknown number but which belonged to a person he would probably know very well. He just couldn't imagine how much.

….

Michael Fischer was a tough man, with few smiles, shaped by the service to his country, he had served in Afghanistan and seen the horrors of war firsthand. Upon returning he enrolled in the police academy and at the age of 35 he was a detective in one of the busiest police stations in the large metropolis in which he lived. His reputation for being harsh had spread quickly among his colleagues and the criminal population, earning him admirers but also many enemies, even among his colleagues, as everyone knew that he could become ruthless in his endeavor for what he thought was fair.

For him there was no such thing as the spirit of the law, the law was the law and had to be followed, which did not prevent him from using its obscure margins, often bringing him closer to the behavior of the same subjects he sought with so much to penalize. Something that many of his detractors loved to use against him. Mainly old Sergeant Adams, a member of the union and activist for racial equality, who seemed to see some of the positions adopted by him as racist. Which wasn't true, because for him a criminal was a criminal, regardless of social class or color and they all deserved punishment and if Michael was the one to lead them to it, so much the better.

Anyone who knew Michael from work could never imagine that the rigid and tough guy was a loving father and husband, a helpful neighbor and an active member of the Lutheran church where he was loved by everyone and recognized for carrying out social works. The church was indeed a very important place for him, as it had been his home for years and was deeply related to why he acted so stoically.

Michael had been orphaned at a very young age and had known the reality of the streets, he himself had almost been one of the strays he hated so much if it hadn't been for the shelter of religion and maybe that was the reason he persecuted social misfits so much, the notion that he had almost been one of them. And if there was one thing he knew from the bottom of his heart, it was that he would do everything to make sure Jamie didn't have to go through the same thing.

It was this responsibility with his son, the result of his relationship with Lauren, the nurse who had taken care of him after the accident that ended his short military career, that he thought about while looking at the photo that served as the wallpaper on his cell phone, showing him and his son on a summer afternoon.

Michael sighed when he saw his son's face being covered by a message notification on his cell phone screen saying simply: Apartment 416. He knew it was imprudent of him to go alone and talk to Javier, but the criminal represented a great chance of incapacitate several of the city's gangs. An opportunity he couldn't pass up. Resigned, he got out of the car and entered the building, not knowing that the man who entered would be very different from the one who would leave.

….

The first thing Michael felt when entering the apartment was cold, the temperature inside was many degrees lower than expected, as if it were the height of winter. Adjusting his coat to his body, he observed the simple but comfortable living room with attentive eyes, but the room was completely empty. The second thing to hit his senses was the smell of flowers, so intense that it seemed as if he had entered a flower shop. Guided by that aroma, he arrived at one of the apartment's bedrooms and there he found Isabel Ruiz's corpse lying on a bed of flowers.

"Shit..." He exclaimed as he ran out of the room and grabbed his cell phone to call reinforcements, realizing what a mistake it was to go to that place alone. Javier Ruiz was a dangerous man and would certainly be distraught over the death of the only family figure he had ever known, even if he was a total psychopath as Michael was sure he actually was. Which only made things worse, only God knew what that kind of monster would do in that situation, although Michael was about to find out.

Upon returning to the previously empty room he found himself face to face with the man known as Goliath, and at that moment two things became clear to him. The first was that Javier's nickname was justified, sitting in an armchair that could barely contain all of his enormous muscles, he actually resembled the image of the biblical giant. And the second thing was that he had fucked everything up.

Staring at the gargantuan figure in front of him, Michael, without realizing it, let slip the thought that occupied his mind.

"Fuck!"

"Not yet." Was Javier's enigmatic response. As his serious face broke into a terrifying smile.

"Look, Javier, I'm sorry about your aunt, but I had nothing to do with..."

"Spare your words. There is nothing you can say that will change your destiny." Javier interrupted. While Michael faced him while realizing that there would in fact be no chance of dialogue. So Michael tried to take his pistol from his holster, only to realize that he was completely paralyzed. Which led him to be dominated by a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time: fear.

Noticing this, the giant stood up, with the maniacal smile back on his face.

"You're trapped in my net, detective. And because of your own choices. Isn't it curious? How do our choices seal our destinies? My parents' choices brought me to Tia Isabel. My choices led me to your police station and yours choices took her away from me, but they also gave me the opportunity to have everything I ever wanted, to take revenge on everyone who got in my way and finally occupy the place I deserve."

"What are you doing to me, you psychopath?"

"Shut up, I already said you don't need to talk, not yet." Javier replied, while a strip of golden metal closed Michael's mouth, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"Interesting, isn't it? Who would have thought that my poor aunt had in her hands the power to shape the universe at will and never used it. I wonder how many years this power was there on that shelf begging to be used while she resisted. If it weren't for the idiotic work from your team perhaps this power would never have reached me. So for that I am grateful to you... friend. No, no friend, I told you this before, we will never be friends, which doesn't stop us from being other things. " Javier whispered in Michael's ears, who in turn tried desperately to escape, only to realize that his feet were surrounded by the same metallic substance.

"Let's see what you have to offer, Detective." Javier added as the metallic substance liquefied and encompassed Michael's body.

"Interesting." Javier muttered as the substance solidified, forming what looked like a metal statue that vaguely resembled the naked image of the man inside it.

Earlier that day when Javier touched the coin, which was actually much more than that, a wave of information invaded his mind. That simple coin was in reality one of the most powerful artifacts known in the universe, a Reality Warper that transferred into the man's mind everything he needed to know. There were a few more models on our planet, one of the silver ones was even located in a city a few hundred miles away from where they were. But silver mattered little when you had gold. And Javier's gold would allow detective Michael Fischer to be reshaped in any way he wanted, from his personal history, through genetics to the deepest of thoughts. Know that gave Javier the greatest excitement of his life, which was manifested through the immense erection that almost burst his jeans and that would have been very visible to poor Michael if he hadn't been trapped inside his golden cocoon.

"Let's start." Javier said out loud as if Michael could hear him, while he placed his huge hand on the golden figure's chest, causing waves of energy to spread and its face to lose any defining features. At the same time, the figure's body increased in muscle, reacting to one of Goliath's great fetishes, men as big as himself, that he could subdue. and use.

While that transformation was taking place, Michael Fischer's mind and story opened up to Javier like a file that he could alter at will. He saw the orphanhood, the importance of the church, the desire to serve the country, the injury during his time serving abroad, the loving relationship with his wife and the concern for his son. But also the harsh and cruel treatment given to those he considered outcasts and the dubious selectivity with which he treated people of color, although he denied it even to himself. He also saw how the police officer prided himself on rectitude and incorruptibility and did not tolerate colleagues who did not act with the politeness, rectitude and severity that he expected from a police officer. Upon seeing all that, Javier smiled and started working.

He knew that what he was doing would not only alter the man trapped in the cocoon, but all of reality, including his own, and so he took care to create the reality that best benefited him. When he was satisfied with his work he secured another revenge, he will left the police officer consciousness last a few minutes after the work is completed and a completely different person takes that place.

Javier removed his hand from the figure's chest and watched the waves of energy spread through it, reconfiguring it into a very different form. After a few seconds he found himself in front of the image of an enormous man, of clearly Latin descent like his own, of approximately his age and size as large, if not larger.

The smile remained on his face as the golden coating dissolved and revealed the image of the man inside.

"Hello Detective Flores." Javier said, looking at the huge man still disoriented in front of him, but who quickly frowned and looked at him with irritation.

"Ruiz you son of..." Michael started to say only to hear his own deep voice and stop, as he didn't recognize it, just as he didn't recognize the weight of his own body or the hands at which he looked next.

"What did you do to me?"

"Don't worry Miguel, everything will make sense soon."

"Miguel? What?..." Michael began to say until he was invaded by a wave of memories that weren't his but were undoubtedly real.

He saw a Latino boy walking alone through the city streets, until he stopped in front of a church and sat down, only to be chased away by a blond pastor.

"This is no place for people like you!" Said the man.

A new memory, the boy, now around 13 years old, very tall but very thin, wandering down the street and being chased by older boys under the gaze of a police patrol who did nothing to help him.

The boy at 18 enlisting not because he had any patriotic desire within him, but because it was a way to get food and money.

The young man at 21 years old, very different from what he had been until then, now strong and muscular due to finally receiving an adequate diet and military training, not to mention the exorbitant use of anabolic steroids.

The same young man a few months later took advantage of an accident to injure himself and avoid being sent to a mission to the country. After having spent the last few years exchanging sexual favors with superiors to avoid more dangerous missions.

The young man being cared for by a young nurse for whom he pretended to be interested only to guarantee his livelihood. Then a visit of an acquaintance from his orphanage days who sold him the idea of joining the police and acting as an informant in exchange for money.

The man looking at the son he had with the nurse with slightly interest. The intense sexual encounters with random men while he maintained the sham marriage because it guaranteed him a good image.

The man charging the same pastor who had kicked him off the church's sidewalk a monthly fee to ensure that criminals did not vandalize the property. Criminals he had hired himself.

The man being all smiles and jokes, to be seen as a man of warm and pleasant behavior, well-liked by those who didn't know what he was hiding and feared by those who saw what was beneath the facade that hid the selfishness and ambition within him. Climbing the career ladder in the police, demanding favors, blackmailing and cheating. Building an external image of a respectable family man while getting rich with bribes and providing information to his former acquaintance, with whom he had constant and animalistic sexual relations, with both constantly disputing who would dominate the other.

Michael initially observed those images with detachment because they were so foreign to the life he knew and the image he had of himself that there was no possibility of him associating himself with them.

However, he couldn't help but place himself little by little in the moonlight of that other man, in that other life, it was as if an immense force was pushing him in the direction of that life so foreign to him. Little by little he began to feel that boy's pain, loneliness and anger to the point where he was able to justify to himself some of the attitudes of the man he had become, no matter how alien and distant such attitudes were from his way of thinking.

"But were they really that distant?" He thought with the heat of burning anger in his chest, the bitterness of humiliation in his mouth, the joy of victory, of making others feel what it was like to be on the losing side and the pleasure, the immense pleasure in manipulating, conquering, dominating. ...

"No, no... what about Lauren?" A woman to be by his side, support him and meet his needs.

"No, he loved her!" Well, he loved what she had given him, and that was, in a way, a kind of love.

"No, no, no! And Jamie! Jamie!" When he thought of his son, Michael felt that expanding force slow its inexorable advance. But at that moment another thought took hold. It's obvious that he loved the boy, after all he was a continuation of himself and when the time came he would teach the kid everything he needed to do well in life and he would make sure that his son knew his rightful place, above all others. But until then he didn't have much to do for the kid, other than paying the minimum attention to him so that he felt happy until the moment he was ready. With the childhood he had himself, he knew how necessary this was. As well to maintain the appearance of a responsible family father. So if every now and then he had to take the kid to play ball or ride a bike in the park, it would be a small price to pay.

Even more so because those walks had been the perfect excuse for some of the most interesting encounters he had ever had. Last weekend for example, one of the boring afternoons he spent with the boy turned into a memorable day in which he fucked hard a twink in the park bathroom, while Jaime played ball with Will, the neighbors' unbearably annoying son.

It was after the memory of that pleasure start to vanish that a last memory came to his mind: the man kissing his business partner and occasional lover in a familiar living room. And the man's animalistic smile as he undressed in preparation for the usual contest of strength that would culminate in one of the two being brutally fucked by the other.

"Hello Goliath" Detective Miguel Flores said to his long-time partner in crime and in bed at the same time that Michael Fischer's last shred of consciousness disappeared within that corrupted mind.

.....

After the wild sex Miguel watched amazed the dancing golden metal ran through Javier's hand, unable to believe the other man's story. Neither of them seeming the least bit concerned about the fact that they had sex with a corpse in the next room.

"It's impossible for something like this to exist."

"Let me prove it to you then, I'm dying to expand the business, bring me one of your colleagues from the police station and I'll show you."

"It's very risky, Javier."

"You do not trust me."

"Of course not."

"Fine, then let's think of someone. As soon as you arrest some of the smaller members of the Maldonado and Deshaun gangs there will be a drop in the distribution of some places and so I will need people to take over. Let's start small. It would have to be someone whose change doesn't generate too many unforeseen ripples and who has access to potential consumers. A professor? No, perhaps a college student..."

Upon hearing that a wicked smile appeared on Miguel's face, only to be mirrored by the other man when he heard what the detective had to say.

#mind change #reality change #straight to gay #male tf #corruption #mental transformation #race change #my story

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dxscxndxnts · 7 months ago

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My Thoughts on Descendants Canon

I was thinking about it and wanted to share. I’ve noticed everyone from screenwriters to this fandom over the years has brought a LOT to the canon (including me) and this last movie…kinda doesn’t fit that canon.

We’ve always perceived these characters to be continuations of the OG Disney Movies. Sleeping Beauty, Mulan, Beauty and the Beast, etc all happened as they did in their animated movies and the next thing was Descendants. It’s likely Descendants Canon doesn’t even consider sequels (Little Mermaid 2, Cinderella 2 and 3, etc)

Now, lots of us (myself included) do nitpick some other Disney canons for fanfiction or theory purposes. For example, I roll with The Little Mermaid: The Musical Canon that Triton and Ursula and Poseidon’s kids. Someone can correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure that’s never mentioned in the OG cartoon movie. Another example I’ve seen is folks accepting Maleficent (2014) as canon, which led to a lot of King Stephen is Mal’s father theories. Also, Greek Mythology? We all love discussing the complexities of D3 Hades being…D3 Hades.

Then there’s the books, by my guess written retroactively to the movies. I love them, I love the depth De La Cruz gives to this world. Unfortunately, I’m not sure book canon is heavily considered when writing the script (tho shoutout D4 for making Castlecoming a thing).

All of this to say: the Descendants Cinematic Universe (yes, this is DCU now) was originally thought to be based on JUST The original animated films.

Except now all those characters are in High School together? What?

I’ve said this once already, but it reminds me of The School for Good and Evil. All the Heroes and Villains went to school together and then after graduation went off to be in a fairytale. I think the DCU could be interpreted as something similar. Hear me out:

First thing: Let’s assume for a minute DCU is separate from the original movies it’s based on. The blue-haired Ella and the blonde cartoon Cinderella are different characters. A little trickier: Teen Maleficent and Maleficent (D1) are the same person, but not the same as Sleeping Beauty (1959) Maleficent.

Second thing: Take exact copies of all those Original Animated characters and put them together in the same place at the same time. Now they all go to high school together. This part is the SGE-like part, but the difference is there isn’t such a strict distinction of heroes and villains. Merlin teaches everyone. Their fairytales are their choice.

Which brings me to the third: ALL OF THE PLOTS STILL HAPPEN, and in their world it’s just common place and also translated differently. Ella still has an Evil Stepmother, a dance to go to, and a prince to see, but it doesn’t look like the cartoon at all.

Other examples:

Hades is indeed a teenager, and just casually a King of the Underworld and a God. That’s just how this place works.

Jaladdin. JALADDIN. If they’re together, their story already panned out, but maybe in a way that’s more DCU-like. Maybe Princess Jasmine needed to have a date to a certain royal event (instead of picking a suitor). Maybe good ol Vizier Jafar sent a skater punk in detention to a pawnshop for the lamp. Yes, Genie was a Genie, but maybe also a thriftstore owner who helped Aladdin get the girl with some thrifty style and a dusty magic carpet. I’m spitballing here.

My point is: all the fairytale stories will still take place, and all the characters are the same BUT separate from Original Animated Disney Canon. Aladdin already happened. Cinderella is currently happening. Alice in Wonderland is SO FAR in the future. Peter Pan may happen soon. Captain Hook already lost his hand, so he already blames Pan for that. (Can yall imagine its his twerp cousin or something, lol)

(I can’t explain Morgie. Morgana La Fey is from Once and Future King (King Authur’s story). She was not in Disney’s The Sword in the Stone, which is only 1/4 of OFK. The main villain in Disney’s movie was Madam Mim.)

This explanation also makes it a little easier to digest the fact that Beast was able to unite the kingdoms and banish the villains. If DCU was straight outta Disney canon, he would have to unite 1920s Louisiana (Princess and the Frog) with Aladdin’s Agrabah (just not real).

So yeah, that’s how I’m somehow wrapping my brain around all this. What do y’all think?

#descendants 2 #descendants #disney descendants #descendants 3 #rise of red #descendants rise of red

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mirrormazeworld · 1 year ago

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Twst Analysis and Findings Why Crowley isn't Malleus's Dad, Unpopular Chapter 5 Diasomnia Twst Theory

While 99.9% of people seem to be convinced that Crowley is Levan, I'm that 0.01% who is still not convinced yet because there are some things that I found really odd if Crowley is Malleus's dad. So odd that this post itself has become a long post.

If you search for something and want to read where Crowley isn't Levan/Malleus's dad, then this theory and analysis is for you because here I'll explain some points for your considerations before jumping to conclusions, though I'm not sure if anyone will care about what I write and hear this small opinion at this point.

1. Heavily implied "another dragon from another country"

In Diasomnia chapter 4, it's said from Lilia's dialogue that "Draconia clan are the descendants of the dragons". All this time we might think that "Draconia are the only dragon in Twisted Wonderland" but in chapter 5 it's revealed that Draconia aren't the only dragon in Twisted Wonderland because there are other dragon clans from faraway country.

Malleus's dad, Levan's title is 竜眼公 in Japanese and it can be translated literally as "Dragon Eye Lord" or "Longan Lord". (More about his title, you can see it in my previous post)

If we see it the way like how longan fruit is named, (龍眼) either 龍眼 or 竜眼 still have the same meaning, but the only difference is 龍眼 is from Cantonese while 竜眼 is from Japanese.

But the main points in common are : They are both "Dragon Eye" and "Eastern Countries"

Which means there's a high possibility that Levan is a dragon from the longan clan/eastern dragon clan.

What's more interesting is that Lilia seems to be very fond of this "Long/Eastern Dragon" that he wants to spend the rest of his life there in their homeland. Out of all the countries he can and had ever visited, why did he choose "Red Dragon Country" in particular?

In first Halloween event Diasomnia also went with the theme of Long and it's revealed that it was Malleus's idea himself with Lilia providing more information about the Eastern Dragon Country culture and the Longs. And then there's that one dialogue said by Lilia himself in the Halloween Event :

"In fact, one such Long became a family's guardian spirit"

It is somehow similar to Levan who has been like a guardian to Meleanor and his draconia family, as her husband, her Left General alongside Lilia (Right General), and her most trusted person (Meleanor's Eyes and Limbs)

If it's not a subtle information but also kind of important that it's heavily implied many times just like Malleus who froze the time in Endless Halloween then I don't know what it is.....

2. Discarded Character Concept (?)

In twst exhibition there's an initial concept art of Crowley where he seems to have a similar theme and is somehow grouped with Diasomnia. It's because he had the same color as that of Diasomnia, even you can see the thorns on his leg and arm which as we know, is the symbol of Diasomnia/related to Draconia family (Sleeping Beauty Squad)

However, if we compare Crowley's old design and his original, usual one, in the design of the Crowley that we know now, twst seems to actually change every Diasomnia/Sleeping Beauty concept out of him and replace it all, from "thorns" to "mirrors" and "golden keys", and leave only the "corvid" part of him.

The question is, Why did Yana and twst team go into such trouble to change him all the way?

In Diasomnia Chapter 4 it's revealed that "Briar Kingdom has two castles : Black Scale Castle (Briar Valley's Main/Capital Castle) and Wild Rose Castle (Meleanor's Castle)

Diasomnia chapter is heavily tied with Wild Rose Castle rather than Black Scale Castle and places the main casts of Diasomnia chapter in Wild Rose Castle rather than Black Scale Castle and wrote Meleanor as Princess rather than a Queen. I know Diasomnia chapter was written with Sleeping Beauty as its story frame, and Meleanor is supposed to take the role of Maleficent in that story, but the question is why they created two castles and used Wild Rose Castle as the main background of the story rather than just create and use one castle, and give the title "Princess" to Meleanor and not a "Queen" since Maleficia, Malleus's grandma is the Queen? In the original and older version of sleeping beauty by Brothers Grimm, "Maleficent" is depicted as a Queen who is jealous of Talia (Sleeping Beauty) and not a Princess. It's as if they want to separate what is "exclusively Diasomnia chapter" from Briar Valley/Briar Kingdom itself.

This is honestly only my personal opinion, but based on these facts, the only logical, possible explanation I can think of is because they want to give this Diablo/Diaval's role to this Lord Longan so that Crowley can play a more bigger role rather than just a diplomat/messenger, and thus, discarded the old Crowley concept and made it invalid.

Thinking the old design as the valid source of information means that you want to tell people that "Epel with skirt and Idia as the little brother are canon" but are they now? Do twst used that concept in the end? Does Epel wear skirt in game and Idia is Ortho's little brother? Of course not, and you already saw it yourself that Yana already discarded that idea completely.

3. A seemingly Disastrous Chronology if Levan is Crowley

With the given information from in game, I want you to think with logic here :

Lilia is 700 years old. NRC gave him a letter of acceptance 500 years ago, but then he ripped it, and then Levan taped it back and stored it in royal archives. Silver said they are in Lilia's dream from 400 years ago and as we know this is when the war between faes and Silver Owl occurred, and at that time it's said that Levan was missing.

Now what I find odd is : if Levan is Crowley, then who sent the NRC acceptance letter to Lilia? We all know the Headmaster is in charge of student admission just like how he permitted Yuu and Grim to become NRC students, sending letters to people acknowledged by dark mirror, persuading Kalim's family, letting Ortho enroll even though he is an android and so on. And if Crowley is Levan, he wouldn't be able to do his job as Headmaster in Land of Dawning because he would need to be present in Briar Valley by Lilia's side to tape back the letter Lilia had torn to shreds.

Keep in mind that there are no official exact years and number from twst itself how long Crowley had been headmaster of NRC yet but from Diasomnia chapter it's clear that NRC already existed back then far before the war between humans and fae.

This one is just my personal opinion, but I'm more convinced that Crowley was the one who cast complex, ancient spell on Grim and therefore, know something about the extremely rare overblot incident that seems to always happen in NRC (and so we heard his voice summoning Yuu and said "we are all running out of time" in the prologue") and so he is tied more heavily to book 8 (Ramshackle/NRC) after Diasomnia if it does exist in the future than book Diasomnia.

Both The Watcher from Island of Woe (Idia's family) and the primeval spell that casted on Grim which seems to be similar to Shroud family's curse were from when the nature of overblot was not known yet and was considered as natural disaster, dated back to the "Age of Gods" which is approximately 1000 years ago.

But then you might think "Oh maybe Crowley had lived that long and pretended to be Levan to play his role." This is impossible because Lilia, Meleanor and Levan are childhood friends and well, Lilia said it himself that they were still children, besides Lilia is 700 years old and not 1000 years old.

Therefore I don't think Crowley is Malleus's Dad, Levan. But if someone said "Crowley was Maleficia's (Malleus's grandma) subordinate, then I can believe them because that way it will be possible for him to exist since the Age of Gods.

And perhaps this is also the reason why Yana and twst teams purposely wrote Diasomnia story with two castles and used Wild Rose Castle as the main background scene in the story rather than just created and used one castle, because they do wanted to separate it and created a place exclusively to tell Diasomnia story so it wont disturb the other plot of the other story and create a plot hole as a whole.

And so that's all the many reasons why I don't think Crowley is Malleus's Dad. Unless someone can answer the questions that had been swirling around my head because of how absurd Crowley is Malleus's Dad theory is which I had been marked with red color in this post and explained it logically or the official told it themselves then I won't be convinced.

#twisted wonderland #twst theory #dire crowley #twst crowley #twst thoughts #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst levan #personally I think Crowley is Malleus's Dad theory is so absurd #unpopular opinion #twst spoilers #twst chapter 7 spoilers #twst chapter 7

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el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle · 6 months ago

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Besides my obvious annoyance with the new season because of the horrible character understanding from the writers and their ADMITTED goal to change Gaitán's ending, there are other aggravating issues with it:

1. The pacing:

This new novela knows it's in a rush, but we can tell, too. The first episode seems to attack the viewer with so many different new facts and characters and issues. It straight up starts with: Roberto's funeral, Armando and Betty separated and having been so for years now, Armando's presidency in the gutter again, lots of economic issues within the company again, Mila gone for years and her distance with Betty, a new guy that Marcela is suspiciously protective of and planning together to get revenge, Daniel being dead for going to jail from illegal business practices, etc. And all of this in the span of 1 episode. It just hits you with so much that it doesn't even give you the chance to get to know the characters. We haven't seen most of them in over twenty years, and some of them never, so we basically don't know them anymore! It's going so direclty and straight to the point that it feels more like a badly written fanfiction.

2. Lack of builup for tension

Jesus, there is very, very little tension here for the big things that matter. [SPOILER] In one episode we find out that Ecomoda is in bad shape, and just a few ones later, Armando is turning himself in. We don't see him slowly driving himself insane with his moral dilemma, we don't see him desperately trying everything to fix it, we don't even see him turning himself in! Just one episode ends with him saying he was turning himself in, and the next one starts with Armando's mugshot. That's it. No tension at all

3. Bad editing

One of the things that I loved about the old novela were their transitions. The first episodes were amazing with this: while Betty was looking at the magazine of the collection launch and giving her opinions and commentary, we were seeing the pictures of it and then we're taken to the moment the picture was taken. While Gutierrez, Armando and Roberto are talking about Betty and why Gutierrez discarded her, Roberto asks "why would a candidate so well prepared and qualified only want to be a secretary?" And then we see Betty going "because I'm tired of looking for a job!"

Those kind of transitions were incredible, I loved them so much. Now in this new series it just cuts abruptly to something totally different.

4. Inappropriate setting

They really, really tried to make everything seem so modern, and in their effort, they ended up making it so plastic and fake. The office doesn't look like an office at all, but rather a gallery or the lobby of an exotic hotel. The desks almost seem out of place. Sure, it's a fashion business, but it's just so fake looking. Most offices, even modern ones, still look like offices. This one just doesn't feel like it, and that really takes me out of the story.

Finally, and just as a little pet peeve that, objectively, idek if it should count but I'll include nonetheless because I'll forget to make a separete post about it: the robot and the hacking. It's just so cringy and cheap. Are robots like that even in the market fr? AI robots that follow you around and are in the shape of a sewing mannequin? And the whole hacking thing... ugh. As I said it's a personal pet peeve but I always find it cringy when they make these super high-tech knowing characters that can hack on everything and we see on the screen the codes and all of that. I found both of these elements so tacky and unnecessary lmao why not just hide cameras?? Nooo, let's make Daniel wannabe a finance and hacking genius lmao ((this part isn't part of the list I just wanted to vent because my hubby and I died of cringe watching one episode last night where Mila's AI Moving Robot Sewing Mannequin told her someone was hacking into the cameras and Ignacio is cyber-fighting to hide and we see a split screen of him and another of what he's seeing through the cameras and eventually he just closes the lid lmao)) ((anyway little rant over sorry))

#ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #betty la fea

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thezombieprostitute · 1 year ago

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Dream Come True - Part 3

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

Warnings: Violence mentioned and referenced, not written. Insecure reader. Bullying with an emphasis on fat shaming. Please let me know if I miss any!

Part 2 -- Part 4

Series Masterlist

Ransom was not having a good day. Truth be told, he hadn't had a good day since Steve punched his stomach over a week ago. The writer's block had hit harder than usual. Many applicants for the Assistant position were garbage, completely upsetting his idea that you just needed to google the right answers.

He was starting to realize that Fatso, as he had taken to calling her in his head, was able to help him through his writing blocks because she had the context of the other questions, some rough draft information, and she'd include ways to use her research into the story. Maybe he just needed to actually hire someone from the "competent" file and try from there?

Problem was, time was an issue. His writer's block had kicked in hard and his publisher was getting more impatient about updates. He spent so much time just staring at his computer.

He was startled out of his contemplation by a phone call. If it was his publisher he'd just ignore it but the Caller ID showed "Steve Rogers".

Ransom answered, "Rogers! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where the hell are you Drysdale?" Steve was quiet growling into the phone. Indicating he was around others.

"What do you mean?"

"The damned Stark party? Raising funds for Rhodes's campaign?!" Ransom could swear he heard Steve's teeth grinding. "You're supposed to be here chatting with Mrs. Devereaux. Buttering her up to at least not donate to Wilford?!"

"Shit," Ransom jumped up and ran towards his closet. "Tell her I'll be there in 20 minutes. If she needs an excuse, I was writing up a storm. I'll make it up to her by naming a character after her or something."

"Just. Get. Here." Steve hung up.

Yeah, Ransom was not having a good day.

Your life was returning to some sense of normalcy. The crutches were a pain but, thankfully, you didn't have a lot of places to go. You wanted to get back to working as quickly as you could, if only to feel like you were actually earning some of the money you'd been given.

But you'd kept your promise to be safe, and allow yourself to heal. You did your best to keep within the movement restrictions you were given. Part of you was still waiting for that hospital bill. Yes, Curtis, Dr. Beck, even Jake and Jefferson all said it was taken care of but part of you still waited for that dreaded notice of nonpayment.

Thankfully the cybercafe wasn't too far and you were able to convince the J's (as they told you to call them) that it was the perfect distance for your needed exercise and movement and you'd sit at the cafe long enough to rest for the return trip. You were happy to get back to tutoring the girls in the afternoons. Your mornings were spent applying for other jobs.

One morning your applications were interrupted by Jake.

"Hey, Y/N, this is Hal," Jake gestured to the handsome, shirt-haired man, wearing a too small shirt, next to him. "He's here to work with you towards getting his GED.”

"Oh, yes," you perk up. "Curtis mentioned another possible student." You reach out your hand and Hal, grinning even wider, shakes it.

"It's mighty kind of you to agree to this," he began. "I've been meaning to fill in that gap on my resume for some time.”

"Well I'm happy to help you with that. Please, have a seat so we can get started?”

Hal pulls out the nearest chair and turns it so that he sits on it backwards, his muscly arms resting on the back of the chair.

"So, is this a time that works for you," you ask. "I've got a pretty open schedule so your time preferences are get priority.”

"Well," he hesitates, "my schedule is pretty all-over-the-place. Is there any chance we could take it a week at a time?”

"Sure," you affirm. "As long as you give me notice so I'm not sitting here doing nothing.”

"Yes, ma'am," Hal nods. "I'm not in the habit of leaving pretty girls wanting." He gives a wink but you drop your eyes and sigh.

"Hal," you scold. "I'm going to guess you're the type to hit on anything that breathes?”

Clearly taken aback by your tone Hal straightens in his seat. "No," he denies. "Maybe. I swear I was just trying to compliment you.”

You pause your comeback and take a deep breath instead. "I suppose there is a difference," you concede. “Just please be careful with both of those around me. I am not a "pretty girl" and I do not appreciate being addressed as such.”

Hal's eyebrows furrow in confusion so you continue, "let's just keep the compliments related to our work? Please? I'd always prefer being smart or nice to being pretty." You give him a small smile and he visibly relaxes.

"Sure thing, Teach," he says. "So, where should we start?”

Curtis was cleaning up the interrogation room after Barnes and Fowler's latest “message” to Rumlow’s crew. They had already taken the body to drop it off on Rumlow's front door, Curtis would make sure all evidence was removed from the room. It was ugly work but maybe, just maybe, Rumlow would stop trying to push his drugs and thugs in their territory.

He was finishing up when he got a text from Jefferson saying Hal’s first session went well. He normally doesn't need these kinds of updates from the legitimate side of things but he found himself rather invested in your progress. You were unusual. A puzzle he wanted to figure out.

Or so he kept telling himself to explain why he was thinking about you so much. You’d shown yourself to be sweet and patient with others but he remembers the fire with which you spoke to him. He almost felt like a moth drawn to your light but he had to keep himself in check. For now it was enough to know you were doing well and helping his family.

At least until he got the follow up text from Jefferson saying, “Ran is looking for Teach. Ok to share info?”

Curtis felt his jaw tighten. The pompous ass had fired someone for taking a bullet. He didn't want him anywhere near you. He was sure you wouldn't want to see Ransom, either. Jake had told him you'd blocked your former boss’s number and his emails would go straight to spam. He texted back a simple “no.” Let the asshole suffer.

Part 2 -- Part 4

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#Curtis Everett x plus size!reader #curtis everett x reader #mob!curtis everett #mafia!curtis everett #Curtis Everett x female!reader

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tehcherrya · 3 months ago

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I watched Umbrella Academy Season 4-- Let me talk about the finale. (And my writer's interpretation of how it should have ended)

As much as I love a 'doomed by the narrative martyr-dom' tragedy, that is not how you go about it.

I love stories with bittersweet "not everyone will make it out perfectly fine" endings. TMA. The Sandman. The Haunting of Bly Manor. Arcane. LotR. Not everything has a happy ending, and often it can be fairly satisfying in its own way. But for someone who likes tragedies, I am sorely disappointed in The Umbrella Academy.

Not in a 'oh I wished they lived happily ever after' sense-- no. No, it makes sense that the ending is sort of bittersweet because that's how the narrative was built to be. It was never going to be their perfect ending. Every season is just another apocalypse, another world-end scenario. In fact I appreciate the way they go out of their way to say it's just a vicious cycle every time they try to go back to being the same, there is no escaping the fates their destinies clearly have written for them, even if everything was quote unquote "normal". They were left without their powers. With a timeline where they are essentially human. And still-- the end of the world happened. Obviously something needs to be done, but it can't be all the way it was.

Here, is, personally, how I would have written the ending. Keeping the same tone, same aspects. But differently formatted.

Five goes through the same motions of realizing that he and his family are the one causing the apocalypses. Over and over and over. Not necessarily their existence itself breaking the timeline, but it's their existence as these marigold-fueled beings. Marigold was never supposed to go out into the world, let alone unto living beings. Timelines collide, and nothing ends well, as the universe can't handle its own essence being fused within living and breathing beings. It never has. So, it needs to be neutralized, so everything can fuse into one perfect timeline.

Five then goes back to the others. As a sort of veteran to the ideas of apocalypses, gives them their solution. And it's something that everyone doesn't expect. Do nothing. Let the apocalypse happen. Every time they've tried to stop it, it's only split the timeline into more apocalypses. So they need to let it neutralize itself.

But everyone is in disarray by this result, "Five, how can we just do nothing? We'll all die!"

And Five simply states that no. They might not. In fact there is a very likely change they won't. But they won't be the same. And everyone is silent as Five explains the situation. The Marigold, their father, the existence of the academy. It's all put them in these horrible timelines. Each one showing no resolve. If they neutralize the Marigold, they will restore the original timeline.

They won't die. More than likely their souls will still exist within this whole, original timeline. But those versions of themselves won't remember anything of each other. Living vastly different lives in different parts of the world, they might live their whole lives without ever meeting. They won't remember the times they've shared, their powers, their father, none of it. They will spend their whole lives not even knowing the words "The Umbrella Academy". They won't even remember there was ever any other timelines in the first place, nor that they were the ones who saved them. They would be no more special than any other ordinary people living their lives. No more apocalypses. No more despair.

And as the scene comes to a close and they all say their possible last goodbyes, and we have the sequence of all of the other timelines disappearing-- We are then met with our original timeline. We see all of the different endings for every character, living out their lives as they would have been if they hadn't ever been born with their powers. Each happy in their own individual way but the important part is that none of them have stories together. They are all living different stories, and have no memory of anything else. Obviously with "I Think We're Alone Now" playing over this montage.

And after our montage song ends with everyone else, there is one more person we haven't seen from-- bear with me on this last shot because it's a little cheesy, but in classic Umbrella Academy fashion. Our final shot is of a grown man in a suit, and it's not exactly said who it is, it's not a face we've seen before. Perhaps in a diner, as a call back to the famous seen from Season 1. The waitress with the name tag "Dolores" asks this man what he's to order. And with the snarky yet cool demeanor this man has always had he says 'I'll have the No. 5'.

And it is Five. Finally not trapped in the body he was. Finally no longer a slave to the apocalypses he's had to deal with ever since he was a boy. He gets to grow up. He gets to live. Once this man exits the diner, he takes his briefcase with him. Opens his umbrella to shield himself from the rain. Smiles. And walks away.

SCENE!

Am I a writer or am I a writer? Bittersweet, yet not horribly executed. Thank you for staying. I'd like to thank Umbrella Academy fans for taking your time to read this. I would also like to thank my regular followers who are wondering what the hell an Umbrella Academy even is. And if that is you, I promise you we will get back to our regularly scheduled program soon! But thanks everyone for sticking around this writers rant of a post!

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sweetflanfiction · 6 days ago

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Asymetrical Symphony - Part 25

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

A.N: I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately life gets in the way of these things!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19 • Part 20 • Part 21 • Part 22 • Part 23 • Part 24

• ··········· • ············ •

The trip down to the Entresol level was far easier than the one you just did. Get on the ascensor. Get off. Welcome to Zaun.

The undercity was very similar to what you remembered in your dimension, even though you hadn’t spent a long time there. Dark, chaotic, and yet in the chaos there was beauty. People shouting back and forth, vehicles coming and going, lights reflecting on colored glass panes.

Once upon another timeline, after Viktor became hexed and started his commune, you became a common guest in it. Helping him do things and reach higher, do better...improve…evolve. He would find ways to get you to the commune quickly and safely; most of them wouldn’t have you pass through the streets of Zaun. And if by any chance you’d need to, he’d get someone to accompany you.

No…he wouldn’t get someone…He would make someone.

It was hard to try and distinguish what was made out of love and what was made out of fawning. He wanted you in the commune, whether because he cared or because he needed more evolved; you didn’t know. But looking back at all the gestures he did, all the little smiles and touches, it was hard to imagine him, at that time, doing it for love. It was a means to an end. Much like the hex angel he had sent after you.

A tap on your shoulder snapped you violently out of your thoughts, so much so that you had to grab your chest to keep your quickening heart from exploding.

“Gods, Viktor.” You breathed. “Scared the shit out of me.”

“We have been walking for 10 minutes.” He sounded confused. “Where were you?”

“Far.” You looked at him, and he had a concerned look on his face. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. As long as you come back.”

“I’ll try.”

“We are here.”

You had stopped in front of a two-story building. It was thin and tall, and it looked like it had been pulled up by the roof disproportionately. The broken window on the ground floor showed the dancing shadows of an abandoned store, with half-empty shelves and dust shimmering there. The other two floors had two square windows to the street but only a faint light coming out of them. The door to the living quarters was ajar, and despite looking neglected on the outside, clothes were hanging on the windows, and on the last floor, there was a little parapet with some plants on it.

“There.” Viktor pointed to the first-floor window. “That was my bedroom.”

You looked up where he was pointing and smiled. There was a purple curtain there, and you wondered if that was there when he was.

“And that was the living room.” He pointed to the window next to the other.

Viktor had a melancholic air to him. A sort of haziness in his eyes as he remembered those times. You kept quiet, letting him reminisce.

“You want to go up?” You said when he sighed with finality.

“No. There is probably someone living there.” He turned around to walk further down the artificially lit streets.

You silently followed him through the streets, watching the stalls and the stores start to get customers. You knew danger lurked around every shadow, especially with the chembarons running amok, but right now it seemed calm and safe…safe-ish.

One thing that surprised you, though, was the sound above the sounds. Above the cacophony of the undercity, there were whispers and buzz like a layer of frenzied talk about the frenzy. Several times you’d pause and look back when something whispered in your ear. It didn’t feel evil or angry. It was playful, like a child touching your shoulder only to hide away.

“Is everything alright?” Viktor asked, and you nodded.

“I’ll explain later. Rune related.”

He paused and looked back at the building that was once his home and then at the intersection where you were both standing. In front was a metal bridge, a path to the left towards more buildings, and a metal stairway to the right.

“It’s there.” He pointed to a small location on a metal landing on a lower level.

“More stairs!”

“Zaun’s architecture is vertical.” He spat out, limping towards the steps.

You walked beside him, keeping a close eye on him. He held to the thin railing, and between that and his crutch, you both made your way down slowly but safely.

“As you can guess...” He adjusted his aid and straightened up. “It was fun for me growing up.”

The layer of sarcasm in the sentence was as thick as the fog that rolled above.

“Between the lungs and the bones, I was a regular at the playground…if there had been any playgrounds…”

There was resentment in his voice, but not anger. He wanted the best for the Undercity, even after it had pushed him aside. He knew, the same as you or your mother, that the betterment of Zaun would be the betterment of everyone who lived in it. Whether they were healthy or not.

“Would you ever consider coming back?” You expected a resounding and quick no since that had been the answer given to you by his cosmic twin, but once again the thoughtful silence told you how different they were.

“Yes, if that’s a decisive factor in the improvement of people's lives here, I would.” There was no doubt in his tone.

“Sounds like you’ve thought this over.”

“Heh. It is where I was born; I will always love it. No matter what it becomes.” His head nodded forward, and you saw your target location coming up.

The store window was bright with orange and yellow lights, reminding you of a lit fireplace. The black-trimmed glass panes with gentle curves made it welcoming, and the array of colorful packages and signs made it even more appealing to the eye. But what made you look at the small store was the symbol on the sign. It was the fire rune, mirrored and delicately decorated with leaves and flowers.

“My mother used to come here.” He recalled once more. “I liked the little candy they had for coughs and the muscle cream too.”

You smiled at him and walked inside, his presence close behind you. The little voices and sounds from what you thought were the arcane became a little louder as you approached the store, but they quickly became silent as the bell signaling a customer entrance rang.

The inside of the store was warm and smelled of dried leaves and soothing balms. The dark wooden shelves were filled with paper packets, glass bottles, and tin cans with various colorful labels. The decorations, the advertisements, and even the rug on the floor were old and raggedy, but it gave the place a cozy feeling.

“Hello. Welcome to Fireside Elixirs and Medicines. My name is Elysium. How can I help you?”

Elysium smiled and brightened up the room as they placed their hands on the glass counter. They were wearing a baggy cream-colored wool sweater with a flowery detail embroidered in it, under a pair of green overalls. Their sleeves were rolled up, and his arms were filled with flowery and leafy tattoos.

“Alena sent us,” Viktor announced after the door closed, and Elysium's smile got bigger.

“Oh, yes! You must be the hex-head and the heir.”

You tried to bite back a laugh but failed when you glanced at Viktor’s confused face. His eyes blinking, eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth trying to come up with a reply.

“That’s us.” You waved, and they nodded.

“I’ve got what you asked for here.” Elysium walked to the back of the store, waiting for them to follow.

“What did you ask for?” Viktor mumbled as he followed you, the wooden floor from the apothecary creaking.

“Old records of old customers...” you whispered back as Elysium opened the door to a small storage room and office space.

The small round table in the middle was filled with cardboard boxes, and those boxes were filled with notebooks and binders with papers of different sizes and colors inside. It was literally a mess of papers and books and dust bunnies.

“It’s all I could find, and Janna knows if that’s all of it.”

“I just wanted a list of clients…” you stuttered, surprised at the number of boxes and sheets.

“Yup…those are it. 90 years worth.” Elysium patted you on the back. “If you need me, I'll be right there.”

They pointed to a small corner couch that had an open sketchbook and some pencils next to it. You nodded, still a bit shocked.

Viktor was already inside the office, looking around the boxes, grabbing the lightest ones, and placing them on the floor.

“Do you still sell the rosehip tea?” Viktor asked quietly, Why did you finally accept your fate?

Elysium nodded curiously while you looked at both of them.

“I would like to buy some.” They nodded again, moving to get him his tea. “Do you perhaps have a kettle here?”

“Not here, but I can get you some hot water.” Both of you realized at the same time what the scientist wanted to do.

“That would be appreciated. Thank you.”

The storekeeper nodded again and turned around, probably to find the tea and the water. You shifted your gaze to Viktor, who was now fishing for something out of his satchel.

“Rosehip tea?” you asked, mimicking his movements from before, picking up some of the heavier boxes.

“It is good for joints and inflammation.” He explained, taking out a small leather coin purse, a notebook, and a pen with a colorful top.

“You believe in that?”

…someone else didn’t…

“I believe in anything that might help me. If anything, the human mind is very susceptible to the placebo effect.” He sat down in a chair, starting to undo his brace, sighing in relief once it was free.

Both of you sat down at the table as you started by picking a box and trying to make heads and tails of the boxes.

Viktor was a pro, quickly grabbing everything out of one box and making piles for each size of paper sheet and note and then making another pile with the whole notebooks. You started to follow his lead, adding papers and notebooks to the piles.

Elysium would come around at certain points throughout the morning, bringing the water for the tea and two mismatched cups. It was clear the shop still had some customers, the bell ringing from time to time and Elysium’s calm voice helping them out.

By the time lunch came around, you had made your way through a couple of boxes, and both looked proud when their new acquaintance whistled, impressed.

“I’m starting to think we should pay you for this.” They joked, leaning into the doorway.

“No need. It is quite…relaxing.” Viktor quickly blurted, and you snorted in disagreement.

“Please forgive him. He’s usually knee-deep in chaos.” You grabbed your backpack.

“Well, it’s food time. If you guys want to come, I’m going to a little stall down the street.” Elysium grabbed his satchel bag and waited for your answers.

You both nodded in sync and made your way out the door.

“Alena told me you are interested in the magic symbols. Can I ask why?” Elysium asked, slurping his noodles.

“I am researching them for my studies.” Viktor quickly blurted it out before you could even open your mouth.

“For hextech?”

“No. Personal.”

“That’s awesome!!”

“What do you know about them?” You asked, setting the spoon down and leaning over the serving shelf of the food stall.

“Urban legend. Mom warned me about the old man with magic, that he would come and take me if I got into trouble.”

Viktor nudged your knee with his own, and you looked at him. He raised his eyebrows, and you nodded, acknowledging that the shopkeeper had the same experience as Viktor.

“Did your grandparents see him too?”

“Not my grandparents…my great uncle.” Elysium finished his food and pushed the bowl aside. “He once saw him near the lanes, just looking.”

“Did he talk to him?” Viktor asked, also pushing his food aside and grabbing a small tray with a little fried round pastry layered with sugar and cinnamon.

“But he would see him there almost every day. Gr’uncle thought he was a ghost most of the time, and he was scared of ghosts.” They gave you a sad smile. “Later in life he became…sick…mentally…he’d forget things and see things, and we couldn't tell what was real or what was his imagination.”

“Was it the mines?” Viktor asked, plopping the sugar bomb into his mouth.

“Probably…or the gray. Or both.”

The air turned solemn, the three of you contemplating the lives of the citizens of the Undercity. They had been forgotten by the council; every piece of comfort they had been given by them was performative. Sure, Councilor Kiramman funded and made the pipes that expelled the gray from the city, but in the end, there was always a blade above these people's neck. You knew this because you saw it. Caytlin only needed to turn a key, and the toxic gas was once more weaponized against them.

Every time someone tried to do good…actual good for the people of Zaun, there were hurdles and committees and just unenthusiastic talks about why they needed actual schools for children in Zaun; meanwhile, Piltover prided itself on the education of its citizens.

Heimerdinger had been right when he told the boys back then about security, and when they told you, you were just as outraged as they were. Now though? Now you know that Hextech indeed needs some security precautions. Against Piltover's need to stomp on their lower city mostly.

Zaun was dangerous; the shadows were sometimes death sentences, but they had been left to fend for themselves. Enforcers weren’t policing the bad guys here; they were just making sure the cages were locked.

It angered you that you had been blind to most of it. Even to the point of not giving a shit about it. Your ivory tower was way too high for you to see the people down below. Until you were dragged into it. Sure, it was by a hexed Viktor, but the experiences were all real, the people who wandered into the commune, their stories.

And even though the means he used were flawed, he tried to help them. Only to be the one who would fatally use them.

“It was evolution, my dear friend. The betterment of ourselves only leads to the betterment of our surroundings.” Viktor's mechanical voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was right there…in your ear.

“Are you alright?” Elysium asked, stopping the animated conversation they were having with Viktor. You're Viktor.

“Yeah…sorry! Just thinking about the boxes back at the store.” You looked at your gloved hands. “I can’t feel the tips of my fingers.”

“I think we can start to decipher the clients with what we have now, and perhaps tomorrow we could investigate those.” Viktor grabbed a paper bag with grease stains from the man in the stall. It was filled with the sugary fried pastries he had been eating. “When we exhaust all of those people, we go back for more.”

“Sounds like a game plan.” Elysium nodded as if he was the one who was going to do it.

“It does.” You looked back at the shopkeeper. “You’re going to help us with this?”

“Ah! No. That’s all you.”

You groaned as they laughed, patting your shoulder in solidarity with your exasperation.

What you had thought was going to be a day of exploration turned out to be a day of tracking people through receipts, prescriptions, and old notes made by at least two generations of Alena’s family.

Luckily, once Elysium announced the shop was closing, Viktor groaned, apparently enjoying this methodical work, and you let out a relieved moan.

Elysium handed Viktor a tin with more rosehip tea and bid you both goodbye. It wasn’t late, but the air was starting to become even more chilly.

• ··········· • ············ •

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