#**Time is a construct that Infinite has control over timE TO GO**

[jellybellygirly]

heartbroken!choso x reader

cw: mdni, smut, angst, kinda yandere?choso, sub!choso (boys pathetic for u oml), jealousy, oral(fem receiving), p in v, heartbreak, dacryphilia? and yearningggg

Summary: You're fed up with Choso's behavior and it leads to a pathetic Choso willing to do anything to get you back, and an even more desperate reconciling

Notes: Y'all this is my first fic!! I'm totes open to polite constructive criticism so hit me up!!

Word Count: 2.9k

He's not sure if your phone was filled with notifications or if you had blocked him and weren't aware of his desperate attempts to get in contact with you. Either way, he feels helpless.

Choso has been rotting away on his couch from the moment he opened his eyes, needing to get out of his tear soaked bed. It smelled like you, your perfume lingering on the pillows like they were taunting him. His soft sheets stopped bringing him comfort when he awoke to a suddenly empty feeling without you tangled in his sheets. Now, all he wanted was for you to steal his blankets when he was exhausted, because then at least he would have the comfort of you.

Discarding his phone somewhere to his side, Choso heaves a sigh that turns into a choked sob. The feeling like a ball of grief in his throat, stuck, not able to be swallowed down.

It seemed almost ridiculous. Choso's heart was broken, no, shattered and it wasn't like you were gone forever. Just yesterday you ended your relationship with Choso, mentioning a lack of communication and something about feeling trapped. Your words hit him hard, piercing his heart with guilt.

You're his first everything, and he's still figuring out how to navigate a romantic relationship, but he can't deny your reasoning. He could be cryptic and needy, and as hard as he tries to understand that you can't read his mind, his jealousy has always been at the forefront of his personality since you started dating.

Choso mulled over your words for the past 24 hours and came to accept that you deserve better. That he could be better, and will be.

If you didn't block his number then your voicemail should be full of scatterbrained explanations and begging for forgiveness. Choso knows he sounds pathetic- god, he is pathetic, but he would do anything for another chance at a life with you. Another chance to have you in his arms, exploring your body before a deep and restful nap, cuddled close but still wanting to be infinitely closer.

Choso's mind feels like a movie of all the times jealousy got the best of him, only serving to sending him reeling with regret. There were the aggressive moments, like when he punched a drunk innocent man in the bar for offering to buy you a drink, or the time he argued with a man in the grocery line for making a pass at you (the guy gave you his place in line). And there was the simple possessive moments where he didn't want you going out without him. He wouldn't even let you stay at his brother Yuji's house party because he felt like knew that everyone was looking at you.

It hit him like a truck when you pointed out his controlling qualities on that night just a week ago. Choso’s tried to be better following your little confrontation, never wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, but you seemed to have enough last night when you two butted heads for, apparently, the last time.

Choso was preparing dinner when you walked out of his apartment bedroom with your makeup done and hair up, seemingly ready to go out. There was no denying you looked stunning, likely done up to go for a night out with your friends. Choso had to restrain himself from taking your hand and leading you back into the bedroom, but simultaneously holding back from letting go of petty comments in effort to get you to stay. Nonetheless, Choso was looking forward to surprising you with a night in... and you took it as him wanting to keep you from going out, spurring the first real heated argument of your relationship. He froze up as you grabbed your overnight bag and forced out an "It's over."

Now he's standing in front of his coffee maker, the filling mug a painful reminder of slow morning afters and soft kisses as the sun broke up the dark of the room through the curtains.

Darting a glance towards the time illuminating from the clock on his oven- holy shit, it's nearly 4pm and he's just starting to slug around after a night of minimal sleep and sobs racking his body so hard his neighbors likely heard.

He tried calling you immediately and his texts sounded just as desperate as he was, but to no avail.

*ding*

Fuck. The doorbell? How could he possibly answer the door right now. But in a split second, that annoyance became hope that it was you coming back to him. Choso sat his mug down so quickly, coffee spilled on the counter around it while he pathetically rushed to the door. He gripped the handle and took a deep breath, opening the door to find... a box. A fucking delivery sitting on the doormat you helped pick out when he finally moved into his own apartment.

Choso's eyes burned with more tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. All he wanted was a second chance. One more try. He would get it right this time. The black haired man picked up the package and set it just inside, cursing the limits of time for not allowing him just one re-do. A way to go back in time and prevent your leaving.

Yet, even in his pain he knows you can't be gone forever. He will find a way to get you back. Maybe find a way to a more stable income and spoil you with whatever you'd like. He'd invest in therapy and become the partner you wished he was-  "Hey, Cho..."

The honey of your voice mixed with uncertainty interrupts his train of thought like dagger. Though the hurt is good, because after all, you're here.

You could tell he was having a rough time dealing with the breakup. By the look of it, he was fairing worse than you.

You were nervous to come, arriving at his open door to see a disheveled Choso facing away from you. Even now his back feels welcoming, especially after a night of reminiscing on the feeling of it when you hug or when you leave pink scratches down its rough skin. Choso's hair is thrown up in an extremely messy bun falling low behind his head, strands spilling out and as he whips his head around to face you, framing his features beautifully.

His eyes look tired and puffy, nose red and he's still wearing the sweatpants from yesterday, hanging low on his hips with a deep green baggy t-shirt slouching on his shoulders. It feels like his dark earth eyes are made to make you regret your actions. The yearning in his gaze almost making you forget why you came in the first place. God knows they've already made you forget why you left.

"Cho..." you start, as Choso slowly walks toward you with a look you'd never seen tug at his brows. He's looking at you like he can't believe you're real.

Words leave you as the equally confused and relieved man gets closer and reaches up to brush his fingers across your cheek, as if to check that he isn't dreaming. He towers over you, eyes searching yours, ready to get lost again. You can barely find the will in you to break eye contact but you manage to look down just slightly, clearing your throat.

Just as soon as Choso was there, he was gone. His touch missing but his presence still right in front of you. You could tell he was longing for something more than silence, and so were you. Here goes nothing...

"I... I'm sorry Choso," You look at your feet, opening your mouth to explain yourself when you hear a whimper escape your now ex. Looking up, you see just how broken the man in front of you is. Wet lines flowing down his cheeks as he cuts you off.

"Fuck, no baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel trapped," Choso choked out, "I'll do anything to make it better. Just tell me what I need to do. I promise..." and his voice broke. Once again Choso was reduced to a mess, only for you. "I promise I can fix this- us."

You swallowed at the apologies Choso was sobbing, choking on every other word and gasping for air like it was scarce.

"I promise, baby. P-please, just- mph!" It's so familiar, your lips on his. Like it was always meant to be that way, as cliche as it sounds. You gently guide his face to yours, falling back to flat feet after trying to make yourself taller to touch your lips to his. You can taste the salt from his tears as your own start to fall.

It takes a moment for Choso to register what's happening, but once he does he wastes no time sliding one of his hands up to cup your face while the other pulls the small of your back into him. You can feel the passion radiate from where you connect as he asks for entrance into your mouth, desperate kisses leading to sloppy tongue as if he can't get enough of you. As if he's afraid you'll vanish.

You don't push him to slow down, but instead tangle your hand in his hair as the other wraps around to feel the strong back you'd missed so much. Choso moans into your mouth at the feeling of your soothing hand in his hair, another cry in his chest, but this time a thankful cry. Because you did come back. Because he will be all you need this time.

He would never make the mistake of hurting you again. Choso makes this pact with himself as he kisses a line from your mouth down to your neck, sucking while savoring the noises you make. Relishing in the tugs on his scalp whenever he nips and bites marks into your soft skin.

You can feel Choso's tears hit your shoulder and he tucks his face in  the crook of your neck in an attempt to hide it. Settling to cry in a tight hug around your waist as your hands come to pat his head and back from around his arms. Your own cries silently spilling out as you pull him as tight as possible around his neck.

You can hear Choso mumble something into your skin, and you pull back to take his face in your hands, heart breaking at the sight of him, whispering his name in question.

"I- I don't want to be apart anymore. Please come back... please baby," he's begging, but you don't need to hear it. You already hoped he would take you back when you arrived. "You have *hic* no idea how much I need you in my life..."

"Baby you don't need to-" but he's already getting on his knees.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be, do whatever you *hic* need me to do. I'll make all of my mistakes b-better, just... please..."

Choso's looking up at you with his deep earth eyes, like he needs you with his whole being. You stroke his hair and try to not take the sight in the wrong context, failing but not acting on your desire, settling for a slow and happy afternoon.

However, it seems your boyfriend? is taking a similar train of thought as he pulls the hair tie out of his hair and tentatively puts his hands behind your legs. He drags them up slowly, testing the waters until he is sure you're ok with their continued path, gripping your ass and pulling you in toward him.

Choso's eyes are at level with your pussy, and he can't contain a groan as he brings his hands to the front of you to undo your jeans, silently begging for permission with his gaze as you nod at him, letting him drag the fabric down and off of your body.

It's a breath of relief when he sees your pretty panties covering your his pussy, and he puts his head in-between your thighs to breathe in the scent of you. The sweet smell of the pussy he's become addicted to, and learned he can't live without.

You lean against the closed door behind you and tilt your head back as Choso licks a stripe over the wet patch on your panties. Gripping his hair as he makes out with your clothes pussy, you both whining like it's been years when in reality, the short break truly did feel like it.

Just as you start to reach the edge you've been craving, a starved Choso finds the will to break away and weakly look up at you, just to pull down your underwear by the pretty bow with his teeth. As you step out of them he rises back to his feet and carries you with ease back to the bedroom, where he knows you belong.

The half curse lays you down gently on his bed, crawling in-between your legs and shortly after, teasingly lifts his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor below. Admiring the look of your lover's body and need for you as he leans down to the bare space between your thighs, you can't believe you somehow walked away from the one man that would do anything for you.

"Never leave... please? I need you..." he rasps, licking a thick stripe across your clit, "...this is where we belong, ok?" Choso gently grabs your thighs and kneads as a way to keep them open as he eats like a man starved.

"F-fuck Cho, I promise..." you mewl, pushing his head into your pussy harder, the sounds of Choso enjoying himself filling the air. Choso is messy, not caring if he's sloppy or needy, just wanting as much of you as possible. "Cho- oh, oh my god-!"

Choso's grinding into the bed like a dog in heat, desperately humping in an attempt to find some sort of release. It's been a day, but a day was too much. He can never lose you again. His tongue is swiping frantically across your folds and in and out of your opening that's begging for something more. One of your hands has pushed your shirt above your breasts, playing with your tits through your bra as you throw your head back in pleasure.

"Ah- Cho I'm-" you cry out, making eye contact with the pathetic man between your legs, coming to a climax as he laps up all you give him like it's his last meal. Moaning into your pussy and gripping your thighs so hard you wouldn't be surprised to see bruises tomorrow.

Even as you're coming down from your high, Choso is fixing his mess by licking you clean, then leaving an open mouthed kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue, but it's not as distracting as the bulge pressing into your leg as he languidly grinds onto you.

Reaching down to find the desperate mans waistband, you fumble his sweatpants down with his help, immediately resuming your heated kiss as his cock springs free, feeling heavy against your body. You pull away, more like pushing him away for a moment, to take off your shirt and throw it across the room. Choso follows by unclipping your bra from behind your back, perfected from all of the practice he's gained with you, fingertips brushing down your body.

"Mm, baby... missed this" Choso hums, mesmerized, as your bra falls below your chest, exposing your perked nipples and fading love bites. You can't help but chuckle, becoming a bit too self aware that just 24 hours earlier you were still together. But at this moment, nothing but each other matters.

It's corny, but the way Choso looks at you makes you weak. Knowing he would do anything to keep you or to simply make you happy. Knowing that he needs you. Knowing that you need him. Now fully aching, Choso buries his head into your neck, kissing and licking sensual bites, fully ready to make new love marks he'll admire later.

You're not going to lie and say you're not getting a bit impatient. Putting your hand on his chest and softly pushing him down gives him the hint. You flip your hair to one side and lean in for a kiss before straddling his hips and aligning where you need each other most.

Choso's eyes roll back as you start to sink down on his cock, a loud groan escaping his throat. Regard for the neighbors is out the window as you start to bounce, wet noises filling up the space. You clench at Choso's expression seemingly fucked out while you were just starting.

"Fuuuck baby, oh- fuck" Choso squeezes your ass with his large calloused hands, helping you lift and drop faster, chasing a mutual high. "You're so fucking tight, oh my god..." and as you gaze down at him your heart aches, his eyes squeezing shut to let another tear fall.

"Baby, never leave- never leave- fuck..." he's babbling now, thrusting up into you like he can't get enough, "I l-love you, baby. God-! So much..." Choso's gasping between each grind into his hips, choking over his words, wishing he could record your moans to play at will. He can feel you clenching harder and he's groaning through his teeth, eyes rolled back as you whine.

"Cho-! Ch, I'm gonna cum- I'm gonna-"

"Mmh- fu-uck baby cum with me, please-!" He fucks up into you as you slam down on him, crying out as you reach your climax together. Your pulsing pussy squeezing tears from his eyes and cock while you ride out your high.  He's whimpering from the slight overstimulation when Choso tugs you down into him. Wrapping his arms around you he whispers "I love you's" into your hair, and you both know this is home.

[hms-no-fun]

you were on cohost? i guess too late now, how was it for you?

cohost had its fair share of problems and i could often find the community there a bit too tumblr-core fingerwaggy if you know what i mean. but the site's dead now so it's kind of a moot point. what i find myself reflecting on most these days are the positives.

first, no numbers. i think their no numbers policy was probably a bit over-aggressive, but it quelled some of the rat race popularity contest aspect of social media that often makes it so tedious. i liked their tag tracking system, their robust content warning options, and the absence of infinite scroll. what i miss most about cohost is that their text editor supported CSS, which led to people programming elaborate text effects and puzzles and games in-site that harkened back to the days of flash animations. there was something in this combination of elements that drew out a rebellious creativity in users.

cohost came at a time when social media was across the board feeling terrible (and it's only gotten worse hahaha), particularly as someone who makes shit that relies on you clicking links that take you away from the website or app. algorithms hate this and punish it. users also just seem kind of lazy and disinterested in using the internet so much as letting the internet happen to them passively. but when a post of mine went viral on cohost, people engaged with it. it wasn't just likes and shares, it was comments and additions. it felt like a place that (at its best) encouraged actual conversation and the development of new ideas among like-minded peers. when my posts did well and i included a donation link, people gave me money. it felt genuinely like a website that COULD support professional blog work in a way that was more customizable even than substack yet still RSS friendly, and the Following tab which let you easily see posts of specific users was a REVELATION, like a mini RSS reader within the website itself.

but the enterprise was unsustainable for various reasons (not all of them outside the dev crew's control) and the haters got what they wanted. now our big social media alternative is bluesky, a website that dares to ask the question "what if there was another twitter?" the answer is that it fucking sucks. i hate microblogs so much dude, why on EARTH are we still acting like these disambiguited 300-character-limit posts are the most preferable means of social communication online??? why would you set out to make a better twitter and then deliberately choose to replicate literally every aspect of the user experience that encouraged low-information high-drama conflict fabrication? WHY WOULD YOU MAKE A VERSION OF TWITTER WHERE YOU CAN EASILY LOOK UP THE ACCOUNT OF EVERYONE WHO HAS YOU BLOCKED AND IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A FEATURE NOT A BUG???????? i just don't get it. i don't even get the optimism of the early adopters. i've seen people decry the post-election decay of the platform like "of course the cishets come in to ruin a community that was defined by trans & queer people" i'm sorry HELLO???????? from literally day zero bluesky was aiming to be a hands-off centrist IPO-friendly tech startup, there was never anything structurally embedded within the platform itself to keep this kind of decay from happening, you just happened to be on there when there were dramatically fewer users most of whom were curious tech enthusiasts. seriously, how have we not learned this lesson yet? you can't define a digital culture by the vibes of random user behavior! unless you have LAWS and GUIDELINES whereby you fucking BAN people for being shitheads, unless you enforce an actual code of conduct and punish bigoted speech and design a system that encourages constructive conversation, you are always always ALWAYS going to wind up at unhinged facebook boomer slop!

the death of cohost and the utterly predictable decay of bluesky are a big part of the reason why i've been posting so much more on tumblr. this is like the last bastion of anything even remotely resembling the old web, with its support of longposts and tagging and how easy it is to find random hobbyists doing cool shit you never knew existed before. like, yeah, you have to search that shit out and tailor your feed to not drive you crazy, but that's what i like about it!!! i am an adult with agency who understands that life is complicated and as such i expect to have to put some work into making my experience with a website positive! but in the hellworld of the iphone everything is walled garden apps for aggregating content where the content and its creators are structurally established as infinitely replaceable and uniquely worthless punching bags to be used and cast aside. everyone's given up on moderation and real jobs don't exist anymore especially if you happen to work in the "creative economy" IE are a writer or critic or artist or hobbyist of literally any kind. we've given up on expecting anything from the rich moneyboys who own and profit immensely off of the platforms whose value we literally create!!! especially now with the rise of "AI" grifters, whose work has ratcheted good old fashioned casual sexism and racism and homophobia up to levels not seen in such mainstream spaces since the early 2000s.

i like tumblr because i don't have to use a third party app to get & answer asks at length, and because it is a visual artist friendly platform where i won't be looked at funny for reblogging furry postmodernism or transgender homestuck OCs. it is a site that utterly lacks respectability and that's what makes it even remotely usuable. unfortunately it also sucks! partly it sucks because this place was ground zero for the rise of puritanical feminist-passing conservatism in leftist spaces, so it's like a hyperbolic time chamber for brain-melting life or death discourse about the most inconsequential bullshit you could ever imagine. but it also sucks because it's owned by a profit-motivated moneyboy who has consistently encouraged a culture of virulent transphobia and frequently bans trans women who call this out. so like, yeah, this place is cool compared to everywhere else, but it is exactly like everywhere else in that is also on a ticking clock to its own inevitable demise. the owners of this website will destroy everything that makes it interesting and will EAGERLY delete the nearly twenty years (!!!!!!) of posts it's accumulated the instant it will profit them to do so. this will be immensely unpopular and everyone will agree it's a tragedy and it won't matter. the culture and content of a social media platform is epiphenomenal to its rote economic valuation. i mean, obviously it isn't, zero of these massive tech companies would be what they are if so many people weren't so eager to give their time and labor away for free (and yes, writing a dumb dick joke on tumblr IS a form of labor in the same way that doing a captcha is labor, just because it's a miniscule contribution in an economy of scale doesn't mean you didn't contribute!), but once a tech company reaches a certain threshold its valuation ceases to be tethered to anything that actually exists in reality.

all of which is why i remember cohost with a heavy heart. yeah, it was imperfect. it was also independently owned, made with the explicit goal of creating a form of social media that actually tries not to give you a lifelong anxiety disorder so it can sell you homeopathic anti-anxiety sawdust suppositories. for the brief window of time when it was extant, i was genuinely hopeful for the future of being a creative on the internet. part of why i spend so much time on godfeels, a fucking homestuck fanfiction with no hope of turning a profit or establishing mainstream legitimacy, is that my readers actually ENGAGE with the material. what brought me back to using this website consistently was precisely the glut of godfeels-related questions i got, and the exciting conversations that resulted from my answers. meanwhile i put so many hours into my videos and even when they do well numerically, i barely see any actual engagement with the material. and that is a deliberate design choice on the part of youtube! that is the platform functioning as intended!! it sucks!!!

what the memory of cohost has instilled in me is a neverending distaste for the lazy unambitious also-rans that define the modern internet. i remember the possibility space of the early web and long for the expressiveness that even the most minor of utilities offered. we sacrificed that freedom for a convenience which was always the pretense for eventually charging us rent. i am thinking a lot these days about what a publicly funded government administrated social media utility would look like. what federal open source standards could look in an environment where the kinds of activities a digital ecosystem can encourage are strictly regulated against exploitation, bigotry, scams, and literal gambling. what if there was a unionized federal workforce devoted to the administration of internet moderation, which every website above a certain user threshold must legally take advantage of? i like to imagine a world where youtube isn't just nationalized but balkanized, where you have nested networks of youtubes administrated for different purposes by different agencies and organizations that operate on different paradigms of privacy and algorithmic interaction. imagine that your state, county, and/or city has its own branch of youtube meant to specifically highlight local work, while also remaining connected to a broader national network (oops i just reinvented federation lmao). imagine a world where server capacity is a publicly owned utility apportioned according to need and developed in collaboration with the communities of their construction rather than as a deliberate exploitation of them. our horizons for these kinds of things are just so, so small, our ability to imagine completely captured by capitalist realism, our willingness to demand services from our government simply obliterated by decades of cynical pro-austerity propaganda. i imagine proposing some of this stuff and people reacting like "well that's unrealistic" "that'll never happen" "they'd just use it for evil" and i am just SO! FUCKING! TIRED!!!!

like wow you're soooooo cool for being effectively two steps left of reagan, i bet you think prison abolition and free public housing are an impossible pipedream too huh? and exactly what has that attitude gotten you? what've you gained by being such a down to earth realist whose demands are limited by the scope of what seems immediately possible? has anything gotten better? have any of the things you thought were good stayed good? is your career more stable, your political position more safe, your desire to live and thrive greatly expanded? or do you spend every day in a cascading panopticon of stress and collapse, overwhelmed to the point of paralysis by the sheer magnitude of what it's cost us to abandon the future? you HAVE to dream. you HAVE to make unrealistic demands. the fucking conservatives have been making unrealistic demands forever and look, they're getting everything they want even though EVERYONE hates them for it! please i'm begging you to see and understand that what's feasible, what's reasonable, what's realistic, are literally irrelevant. these things only feel impossible because we choose to believe The Adults (and if you're younger than like 45, trust me, to the ruling class you are a child) whose bank accounts reflect just how profitable it is to convince us that they're impossible. all those billions of dollars these fuckers have didn't come from nowhere, it was stolen from all of us. there is no reason that money can't and shouldn't be seized and recirculated back into the economy, no reason it can't be used to fund a society that is actually social, where technological development is driven not by what's most likely to drive up profits next quarter but by what people need from technology in their daily lives.

uh so yeah basically that's my opinion of cohost lmao

[jacevelaryonswife]

You got me losing control

You looked at him again, anxious, watching him approach cautiously until he shortened the distance between your bodies. “I want you tonight... if you want me...”

pairing: aemond targaryen x wife!reader

warnings: smut, p in v sex, english is not my first language. 3,240 words

aemond targaryen masterlist

Your marriage to Prince Aemond of House Targaryen was a blessing to your family. No matter how noble a birth or reputation was before Westeros, the union with a representative of royalty is the summit of relevance, respect and sophistication that a house can achieve — and that's exactly how you and your family came to be seen and treated in Kingslanding.

After the announcement of the engagement, certain rumors about the behavior and appearance of your betrothed stirred some concerns about your future and safety. Prince Aemond was a robust, polite, healthy young man and a prodigy in the art of swords; he was also a lover of books, history, philosophy and very reserved, especially after the incident. On the other hand, he was also described as easily irritable, intimidating, serious, silent, ruthless and deformed.

None of you were presented properly before the engagement, which made the following weeks strange, tense and reluctant, even if the effort to alleviate such a situation was mutual — shy and slow as well. You had not yet decided if he didn’t approve of your choice as his future lady wife or if that (contained, cordial and impatient) was just his way. Courtesy was not a problem until it became excessive as a barrier and you begged the Mother for unhappiness to cross your path. You were a lady more than suitable for a wedding, you considered yourself beautiful, polite and affable within your own limits, any Lord would be more than graced to have you by his side, according to your lady mother, and so you expected your new husband to find it.

Everything seemed to go well in the following weeks after the wedding. Even reserved and mysterious, Aemond was kind, attentive and worried about spending some moments of the day with you beyond duty, the construction of intimacy and trust was still slow, but quite satisfactory — in addition, your dresses and jewelry were more beautiful and extravagant than those of the other ladies. However, there was something that terrified you and your husband from the tip of your toes to the last hair: bedtime.

It was infinitely the strangest and most tense situation that your relationship with the prince experienced. You learned that even in moments where his were nervous and not knowing how to act he would still try to maintain the imposing and ruthless posture, but with easy-to-read nuances that revealed that he hadn’t idea what was happening. The consummation of the marriage was the worst physical pain ever felt in your life, although fast, it was extremely uncomfortable and unpleasant. The second night he bed you was even shorter, as a knock outside the shared room in the service of the queen hindered the hardness of his sword. Already the third time his own virility failed and served to create worrying thoughts about your lord husband's lack of interest in you. What if your appearance didn't please he? Or your inexperience? He was also inexperienced, it couldn't be that.

Everything got worse when your moon blood came and the realization of not being able to generate a fruit with his seed left you highly distressed. What if everything got worse after that? Rumors would certainly circulate about the prince's unfit wife and your fertility would be put in check. Such moods were enough to keep you disturbed, sad and ashamed by the previous and present days of your moon blood, until things suddenly changed when the week passed and the way your husband looked so tempting during the sparing session with Sir Criston Cole made an avid heat bloom all over your body. It wasn't even that warm in Kingslanding but he has never been more handsome and virile before, with his silver hair flying through the courtyard and his clothes leaving his delicious defined body even more manly.

What was going on with you?

You knew that the only thing in your mind was that you couldn't wait to have him alone later.

And that's what you did when you left dinner earlier and have a bold and daring bed linen along with loose hair for your husband. The cream-colored dress was made of the finest silk of lys and fell slightly through your body with long sleeves that didn’t close in your arms and left them exposed when moving. You were with your back to the bed and facing the door, anxiously waiting for the arrival of your prince.

You felt a restlessness composed of warmth and desire to go through your body and focus on your femininity in the eagerness for his touch, from the hands exploring your body, your breasts, for the intimate and carnal connection to be consummated. The reason for that was strange to you, since the other times you were together were nothing short of uncomfortable, but who were you to define the plans of fate?

Therefore, when the door opened and Aemond came across his beautiful wife in exquisite and suggestive clothes, his good eye widened more than usual. He closed the door and remained still, impeccable posture and half-open mouth. Your gaze faltered and faced the floor in the following moments, keeping the room silent for long seconds until the courage inflated your lungs and a request for low approach escaped from your lips.

"Can you come here, husband?" You looked at him again, anxious, watching him approach cautiously until he shortened the distance between your bodies. “I want you tonight... if you want me...”

An intense look and a stronger pull of air were the prince's physical response, remaining almost static in front of him. Would it be reluctance or surprise? You didn't want to be pessimistic.

In fact, for a moment Aemond forgot how to pronounce any kind of words and form sentences, totally surprised by your newly discovered boldness. It was a fact that the least developed pillar of your union was the moment of bed, but he thought that time and reading on the subject would enrich the occasion. But not that way, not with his little lady wife looking so tempting in her soft clothes.

The prince was oblivious to what he considered depravity. His only experience with a lady wasn’t planned and appreciated by him and the option to protect himself for his future lady wife was chosen. Unfortunately, the negative side of keeping inequity out of his life was to arrive at the moment of bed without knowing how to give pleasure to his lady correctly. He hated to see the discomfort stamped on your beautiful face every time he pushed his member on your walls, especially in the first copulation. But here he was and there you were willingly giving yourself.

Your steps were smooth and decided in his direction — although there was fear of being renegade — stopping when your hands landed on the chest covered by the black layers of his tunic. "If you don't want to, I'll understand," no, you wouldn't, you would freak out, but it was your duty as a lady and wife to comply with your husband.

Meanwhile, breathing seemed more difficult every second when he noticed the intensity in the way you watched him, a warm and lustful intensity that no other lady ever directed him. He was being cooked inside his own clothes in an almost maddening fire.

"I want this, lady wife," his voice was a few octaves more serious than usual, his good eye so attentive to your gaze that it seemed to pierce your soul.

Only that confirmation made nectar leak from your flower in anticipation. You didn't want to waste any more time, leaning against him, one hand remained on his chest while the other went up the uninjured side of his face, not wanting him to feel cornered.

“May I kiss you, husband?” You asked in a lascivious voice.

“Yes,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding the left side of your face.

The meeting between your lips was calm (inicially), firm and intimate. There was no previous shyness whenever a kiss happened, no, it was incisive, dominant and became increasingly ravishing and warm. There was urgency in the physical search for each other, making the kiss last longer than any other ever exchanged. It was everything you ever wanted it to be, as natural and ardent as a real dream. But it wasn't enough to satisfy your desire for him.

Moving away from your husband's silky and pink lips, you were quick to announce your next wish: "take off my dress, please, I want to do it the right way today."

The usual blue iris was nothing but a memory dominated by the darkness of his pupil. Aemond's large hands landed on your shoulders to slide both straps of the dress to the sides, removing the fabric accumulated at your waist to the floor, exposing your body in full vision to him.

You were burning, longing so eagerly to be touched that you didn’t want to wait for the prince's excessive chivalry and anticipated unbuttoning his tunic without noticing the approach of his hands on your breasts, making you sigh pleasantly in the massage received. It took a lot of effort to keep undressing your husband and not succumbing to his touch on your soft flesh, almost tearing off the piece and throwing it on the floor.

It was not appropriate for a lady to be desperate for such an activity, so even though you wanted to give the same fate to the pants that hid the modesty of your husband, you restrained yourself by analyzing and strumming his delicious abdomen and chest, touching his sculpted shoulders and long arms. His appearence was ridiculously ethereal and perfect.

“Take me Aemond, I need you,” you begged before capturing his lips again, moaning softly when he growled at your mouth and squeezed your ass with one hand and held the part of your head with another, feeling a growing hardness pressing against his stomach.

“I need to prepare you first, my lady,” he whispered hoarsely, now holding on both sides of your hips and looking away shamelessly to your femininity.

Maybe if it weren't for your rush you would have enjoyed a different pleasure that night, with your husband's lips pressed on their petals, but you still didn't know that. However, what he referred to earlier was already understandable to a lady like you.

"No need, I'm ready," you took his hand and guided him to feel your sticky folds, rubbing your juices gently on his thin fingers. After that you didn't spare time to get on the bed and wait for him, who was very quick to discard his shoes and pants to reach you with ferocity. Gods, what was your misdemeaning behavior doing to him?

The prince breathed heavily as he reached your body only to be rotated on the bed so that you would assume him as a mount. “I would like to try otherwise,” you said it with even heavier eyes, putting your hands on his chest to settle above his groin, his virile and thick masculinity rubbing against your mound, making both moan and hands fly at your waist when you rubbed your folds on him.

You have never seemed more tempting than now, with your beautiful body to total contemplation and disposition and so needed by the union of a man and a woman. It was said by Grand Maester Orwyle that ladies usually behave differently after moon blood and can become demanding about their husbands. Aemond properly interpreted the connotation used by the older man, but did not imagine that it would be such a drastic and needy requirement.

And then, deciding to end your suffering, you sat on the bulbous and reddish tip of your prince's sword, ignoring the initial pain and closing your eyes as you felt him stretch your walls so well in an overwhelming and indescribable feeling. "Oh, Aemond!" A breathless moan escaped when it reached his groin after long seconds. The extraordinary pain recurrent at other times was nothing more than an old ghost when you slid easily on its axis, moving up and down in an experimental and tasty constancy.

Aemond tried to keep his usual stoic feature but it was absolutely difficult when your velvety walls made him feel so good. With his mouth ajar and a heavy look, Aemond squeezed his waist in his clamor for him, taking a deep breath with the sloppy and needy rhythm that you established next.

You didn't know if you were doing it the right way, but you really appreciated the feeling of his thick and soft sword brushing against delicious places in your soft flower. It was good enough to make you moan continuously and scratch the milky skin on his chest.

Hoarse and strangled sounds were released by him during the shock of your hips, closing the good eye to focus on not ending early. He was still stunned by the walk of things since his arrival at the shared cameras — positively stunned. He never imagined that fornication could be so delicious for both of you.

Your eyes opened when your body signaled fatigue from the exercise in question, causing you to reduce your jumps and lean against his abs, almost lying on Aemond when purring so that he would take a position above you. You are not sure if it was the fluidity of the movement or the pressure on your thighs that persuaded your senses to the speed with which he took control and stayed on top, face closer to yours than before, almost making your lips brush. Before he could think about moving away, your arms wrapped around his neck and maintained the proximity between your faces. You wanted to kiss him, or rather, you wanted him to kiss you passionately.

“Kiss me, my dragon.”

The restraint that imprisoned Aemond's wild nature broke with the nickname he received and made him capture your lips in a dominant and fierce kiss, the kiss you've wanted so much since you woke up that day. His hips began to move against yours in a much more fluid way than the other times, fucking you with deliciously intense impulses, without roughness or softness.

He started another wet and sloppy kiss, sucking your lips before sinking his face into your neck and growling against his skin, then planting kisses. “Are you enjoying it, my lady?”

“Y-yes, my prince, yes, go faster!” You moaned and supported your legs on his waist, letting out an almost small scream when the speed of your impulses increased, numbing your senses. The nervousness of bringing pleasure to his wife was dissipated when all he could feel was the constant friction and the way you squeezed him so well.

Flying in wet and pleasurable clouds, you gently held the back of his neck and sneaked to smell his soft and well-groomed silver hair, purring with the addictive and extremely refreshing musk. His heart warmed timidly with your intimate gesture, caving your beautiful face with one hand and touching his foreheads to make love to you in such a unique and vehement way that it made your toes curl and a feeling bloom inside, developing with each push of his hips.

"Beautiful," he uttered contemplating his face kneaded with pleasure, "you're fucking beautiful, my lady wife."

“Really?” You knew it was, but you wanted him to affirm it from his own belief.

“Yes, a lot,” He was fucking lucky to have you. He should say that.

The tingling inside increased with his confession, building something you hadn't felt yet. Was it your dreamed apex germinating? The feeling that your friends elected as the best of all Westeros? He captured your mouth again in a firm but sloppy kiss at the same time, swallowing your lascivious moans and whining intensifies with each roll of hips.

His pleasure also became difficult to ignore, although he was proud that the act was being more profitable and lasting than the other times. Profitable? No, I was delusional.

The connection between you became steamy every second, causing your future supplication: "continue husband, please don't stop."

There was a certain affected region that made your fingers squirm and gasps of pleasure fill your chambers (and maybe even out of them). The recurrence with which Aemond brushed against that point amplified your pleasure and anticipated the hot euphoria that took over your body, making your sight clear and legs cage him when your high came devastatingly good and strong, causing tremor in your limbs and an absolute squeeze in your cunt around his masculinity.

It was the best thing that has ever hit your body in fact, and that caused the release of his seed on your core in erratic movements and an erotic grunt. The nature of the sensation seemed primitive, it was primitive, as a need that needed to be satiated more often. Your bodies were sweaty when he fell to your side with his eyes closed from recent pleasure, bubbling in deep flames like the Old Valyria.

A more than satisfied smile adorned your face with how indescribably good you felt. Not only physically, but your husband's performance softened part of your fear, only one part, the other unfortunately ascended in equity and sowed doubts in your heart. What if the sweetness in his words was only in the heat of the moment? What if he doesn't think you're pretty?

After a moment of comfortable silence you decided to risk it in a low, almost weak voice "... did you really mean those things? About my beauty?" Gods, you didn't want to look pathetic.

And he didn't want to be an absent husband. "Yes," he confessed in a hoarse and soporific voice, almost ashamed of his attitude. "I'm sorry I don't say that as often as you deserve to hear. You're breathtaking, ma'am." His good eye filtered all the reactions from your face carefully. “I'm very lucky to have you by my side.

And nothing was more radiant than your smile when he heard such loving and beautiful statements, daring to snuggle against his chest even though he had a thin layer of sweat. "Your words are nothing more than kind, my prince, I am very grateful to hear them," you began, "you are also a very handsome man," you smoothed the bruised side of his face with the palm of your hand, not getting close to the scar to scare him. "Almost ethereal if I may say," your face was close to his, looking tenderly before leaning against his lips in a chaste and soft kiss.

Compliments directed at appearance were never true to Aemond. Not that he received them too much after the incident, but all the rare times were false, regrettable and uncomfortable. His abilities made him a man safe enough not to care mostly about his deformity, however, in his interior of steel and fire there was a fraction that longed for genuine kindness.

"You are very kind, my lady," he said softly, his voice almost breaking, "did you like what happened?" The thought was almost all verbalized at once, taking not only you but also him by surprise.

“A lot. I liked it a lot, Aemond," you purred against him, feeling your interior warm and vibrate again. "If it's not inappropriate, I wish we could do it again."

That would be a long night...

═════════════════════

taglists:

general: @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

aemond: @aemondsblog

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

I just found your page and stalked all your writing lol, it’s absolutely amazing and I’m highly obsessed now!! from the prompt list for jily: “What are we?” + “I would like us to be more than friends.” (Head students era confession?)

oh you mean my favourite jily era??? my pleasure! ps uhhh pls don't count the words on this one

from this prompt list

James has thought about the moment at least once an hour, every day, for about two months now. Putting it into perspective like that makes him come face-to-face with the fact that he’s even more ridiculous than he’s usually comfortable admitting. 

And James has always known he’s ridiculous.

The conversation plays out a million different ways in his head, like a lucid dream he can only sort of control and only up until a certain point because it’s Lily, and he stopped trying to predict her next move long ago.

It’s why she always beats him at chess. He knows her—really knows her, not like he used to think he did—but he’ll never be able to anticipate what she’ll say or do. Full of surprises, she is.

Somehow, though—his brain, in the infinite possibilities it’s constructed, failed to think of even one situation in which she would be the one asking him.

“What are we?” she asks, sitting on the bench next to him outside Scrivenshaft’s, her thermos of tea warming her hands. She's wrapped in her Gryffindor scarf with a green knit cap pulled down over her ears, auburn curls spilling out and flying around with each heavy gust of the biting January wind. She's perfect and he just—

Stares at her.

“Okay,” she says, laughing, then takes a long sip of her tea, her gaze shifting to the empty street in front of them. It’s still early, so most of the Hogsmeade crowd is either having a lie-in or getting breakfast at the Three Broomsticks.

James and Lily got out of the castle as quickly as they could in order to make the most of their day. Day, not date, because they’re friends. Sort of. Most of the time. Except for when she flirts with him and he flirts back and that one time last week when he’s almost positive she was going to kiss him and that other time last week he is positive he was going to kiss her. And all the other moments that makes him absolutely lose his head.

“Never mind,” she says, and she’s bloody smiling. “I thought we…” Another slow, agonising sip. “Never mind.”

James feels the panic set in, just like when they play chess. It’s his move, he knows it’s his move, but which way can knights move, and how many spaces can bishops take, and—

“You’re freaking out,” she observes casually. He doesn’t know when she looked back at him.

“What?” he manages, the word sounding squeaky.

She might smile again, then. He can’t be sure, because she’s lifted the thermos back up to her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought you were ready.” She tilts her head, studying him. “I’ve been trying to pick a good moment, you know. To talk about this. But…” She shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.” She caps her thermos of tea and stands from the bench then, looking down at him. “Wanna go to Honeyduke’s?”

“Do I want to—” He shakes his head, blinking rapidly, then looks up at her, sharply. “Huh?”

Lily laughs softly. “It’s almost ten,” she says, like this was the root of his confusion. “We can be first to the Pick ‘N Mix for once.”

She’s talking about candy. She’s just asked him to define their entire complicated relationship and then—without waiting even a moment for him to catch his breath—started talking about candy.

“Can you…” He frowns, struggling to find his words. (Struggling to remember how to breathe.) “Sit down…please,” he finally manages.

Thankfully, she doesn’t argue, settling back down on the bench beside him. He certainly doesn’t have the wherewithal to match wits with her right now if she chooses to be stubborn.

“I need a…a minute.”

“Okay,” she says, and pops the lid back off her thermos, gracefully pouring herself another shallow cup of tea. “You know,” she says, conversationally, “this works loads better than a heating charm. Marlene says I’m mad for lugging it all about Hogsmeade, but how else can I secure an infinite amount of tea to get me through the day? We don’t have a spell for that yet, do we?”

“Are you—” He breaks off and turns toward her on the bench. “Are you enjoying this?”

Her lips twitch up into a small smile. “Perhaps a little.”

He shuts his eyes tight and groans.

“I intend to be your girlfriend by the time we graduate, Potter,” she says, and he doesn’t know when she’s leaned toward him, but he can smell the peppermint tea on her breath and feel it tickle the hair near his ears. The bench creaks as she moves back away from him, taking his heart with her. “We’ve got, oh—” A pause. “Six more months. I’m not in a hurry.”

Not in a hurry. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s been waiting for this for six years. Well, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but—this calls for being dramatic! She’s just admitted to wanting to be his girlfriend—his girlfriend!—and he’s fumbling the Quaffle so bad he’s about to be benched. 

He can’t let this moment pass by without saying something.

“Girlfriend!” he blurts out

“Is that—” Her grin grows, even as her cheeks flush pink. “Was that an offer, or are you auditioning for the role of a caveman in a play I didn’t know Hogwarts was putting on?”

James wants to pull his hair out of his head. He wants to pull it out of his head and make a nest, so he can hide forever, like those bald little baby eagles he saw with his parents on the coast last summer.

“No, I want to—let’s talk.”

She sets the thermos on the bench between them and lifts up her hands, counting her fingers one at a time as her lips move wordlessly. “Wow. Six words.”

“Lily, can—you…”

“Okay, okay,” she says, with a giggle. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop taking the piss, I swear. Let’s talk.” Folding her hands in her lap, she looks at him expectantly. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

He gives her a significant look, making her laugh again, but she nods.

“Alright,” she begins, “well I don’t have much to say, really.” She shrugs, her legs dangling back and forth over the bench, just shy of touching the snowy ground. “I like spending time with you. I think you’re ridiculously fit. You’re a good person and—I really want to be able to kiss you without wondering if it’ll ruin everything.”

James has always found most Muggle swears to be rather lacking in oomph, but now—

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Oh,” he says.

“So, Potter,” she drawls, nudging his shin with her foot, “what are we?”

“I would—” he starts, then pauses, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. “I would…like us to be more than friends.”

“Oh,” she echoes, her foot hooking behind his on the ground in front of them.

“Lily.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve had a—a whole speech ready. For weeks.” he confesses. “But right now, my brain is…cold, I think. So I don’t want you to take my lack of…words…as a lack of enthusiasm. I’m…very enthused.”

Lily looks at him, jade eyes blazing. “Will I get to hear the speech in the near future?”

“Do you…want to?”

“I want to hear anything you have to say, Potter,” she says simply.

“Are you sure because—”

“Yes,” she replies, moving closer. Her wind-chapped lips stop a breath away from his. “What are we, James?”

He inhales deeply and doesn’t think again before murmuring, “Everything,” and closing the gap between them.

[dereks-husband]

Alright, Derek Suarez has RUINED me, here's a DEREK X GN!READER fic

I have never written a fanfic before, so I'd love some constructive feedback!

This is a part 1 out of idk how many parts, could honestly probably be infinite if I had no self control. Set between steps 2 & 3, but like basically step 3 like it's set right before senior year.

You’re laying on your bed, phone in your hand, debating with yourself if you should call him. You don’t even know if he’s free or if you’d be interrupting practice, or doing his summer work, or bonding with his teammates, or anything else that he should be focusing on instead of you. You let out a puff of air, deciding that you need to think about it just a little more. Because no matter how often you were able to talk on the phone, or text, or FaceTime, you never felt you were able to get enough of Derek. It was nowhere near the same as seeing each other in person, but you couldn’t blame him. You loved him. What started as a summer crush when you were 13 turned into a deal to get married if you were both single, and now you can’t stop thinking about him, wishing you had the courage to just call the deal off and ask him to be with you now. But all that is to say he was busy with soccer, his passion, and he was so talented at it, you’d never forgive yourself if you somehow got in the way of that. So instead, you never said anything, just going through your days texting him, missing him, and turning down any advance or offer for romance from anyone else because, to you, there is no one else. And if you would call him right this second you might find it a little too hard to not just drop everything and drive out to his training camp in the middle of who knows where because you really can’t stand how long it’s been since you saw him last.

The one thought giving you peace of mind in this moment though is that you are always able to go to his first home game of the season. You’ve done it every year since you first met him when you were 13. You would get a ride or drive to his family’s home and ride over with his parents and brothers, cheer all game for him, and then go back to their house. Then you would either spend the night there, or, what’s been happening the last couple of years, go home right after due to someone else’s plans getting in your way. And you never missed the face he would make when you couldn’t stay; disappointment, sadness, a longing to ask you to stay, even just for a little longer, with you wanting him to express the feeling because you’d be ready to do it for him…

Except he never did, and before anyone else could catch it he’d put on his signature smirk, one you’ve started associating more with masking his true emotions more than the joy you used to think it meant, and tell you that he understood and that you’d see each other as soon as you’re both able to. Some years you had opportunities to go to more of his games, but last year you were only able to make it to two other ones. Only three games total, for the whole season! Derek said it was okay and that he was happy when you made it to any game, but you were so frustrated with yourself. He WAS so happy when he knew you were there, no smirks or sadness in his eyes when he caught a glimpse of you in that crowd, only what you’ve learned is his real smile plastered on his face, but you couldn’t help feeling terrible every time after the game when you couldn’t stay with him, reducing your whole night of quality time to the car ride back with his whole family. 

So this year, your senior years, the last year you knew for a fact that you can make his games, you resolved to go as many as possible. Because really, who knew where his skill would take him, he could be scouted and have to move across the country and then you wouldn’t have a chance to go to any of his home games, and you both knew it wouldn’t be the same with you only cheering from afar. In your heart you were just really hoping he’d go to a big enough school where they might stream his games so you can still talk to him about them. It wouldn’t be the same, you knew, but it would take some of the ache of missing his games out of you, and you could only hope it would for him as well.

So, for this year, you made sure that you can go to the first home game, as you always do, and you also secured the freedom to go to his game that falls on Halloween. And, as of right now, you planned on staying over after both games, telling everyone (except him) that you’re booked for the whole weekend, just in case he’s free for that long too. The Halloween game would be even more special because his youngest brother, Nico, was still young enough for trick-or-treating, and his middle brother Jorge would have to take him so their mom could stay home and pass out candy. Their dad would be passing out candy at his store, due to some local government incentive for businesses participating in Halloween that you really didn’t understand, nor did you care that much, you just knew that this was an ABSOLUTE win for you.

What you DID understand about the circumstances is that you would be driving Derek home after, and that meant you got to be his cheering section all by yourself AND have him all to yourself on the ride back to his place. You weren’t so bold as to assume you'll have a monopoly on his time that night, but you also didn’t miss when his mom mentioned some restaurants that he likes that would be open both on Halloween and after his game, so maybe you can go out on a non-date with the boy you’ve grown up pining over on your favorite holiday and everything would be totally fine right? A beat. You push that thought out of your mind before you get too lost in it and can’t get the blush off of your face in order to FaceTime him. Right now. Because there’s no time like the present right? Wrong, but it’s something he would probably tell you is right if he were here.

Taking one last deep breath, you pressed call as you exhaled, hoping you weren’t interrupting anything. The phone only rang once before his face was taking over your entire screen. His beautiful green eyes, his long lashes, his adorable nose, and full lips, and perfectly tousled light brown hair. You didn’t miss, though, how sweaty he was, great, you thought, I called during practice. 

“Hey you!” he beamed when he realized the call had connected.

“Hey yourself” you replied, “Is this a bad time? Are you in the middle of practice?”

“We actually just started on a break right now so this is perfect timing! I have like ten minutes to chat! Unless that would be too much of me for you?” he smirks, noting that this is his playful smirk.

You smirk back, “well that is a lot more of your undivided attention than I’ve had in quite awhile, I don’t know if I’m worthy!”

You see a shift in him, still smirking but it’s changed to the mask, “well if that’s how you want to be I guess I could go back to-”

“No no no, I would never complain about getting attention from one of my favorite people,” you cut him off, “sorry, my joke wasn’t very funny” you add sheepishly.

His eyes soften at that but his gaze goes toward the ground, smirk gone, something more like worry in his face “No no! You don’t have to apologize, I’m sorry for not reacting right, drills today have been killer!”

“Derek. Please. I want to apologize again, but I don’t want to spend the next 9 minutes playing the ‘Who can be more sorry game’. And no, you do NOT get to say sorry for that,” you cut him off before he can apologize again, “I just want to know how my favorite soccer superstar is doing? Clearly you haven’t died from exhaustion so that’s good! And you're staying hydrated I assume?”

His face goes from a sad puppy to bright again, “You know it! It’s almost like you know me or something!” he chuckles. “As this camp goes on our drills get more and more intense and our days have been getting longer. I’m actually glad I got my summer work done early, because I really don’t know how I could’ve gone back to work on homework after the days we’ve been having. I barely have the energy to shower before bed,” he trails off, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

You feel your face start to warm at the mention of him showering but push forth. “And how much longer are you there? I can’t believe they’re pushing you so hard! Has it been like that every year and you just didn’t tell me?” you inquire, trying to sound as joking as possible despite your deepening concern.

“We’re here until next weekend, Saturday I think, but that day is just to travel home, so just over a week? Today is Thursday right?” he laughs, dry and a little uncomfortable, “and for your second question, no, they haven’t pushed us like this every year, they just are this year because we made finals last year and they want us to get the win this year…” he trails off, realizing he said something he maybe shouldn’t have.

“Derek. Well okay first yes today is Thursday, but more importantly, you made finals for what? A tournament? Or-?” You ask, catching on to his discomfort but not letting him get away with it.

“Uhm, no, not a tournament. We kind of, almost won the state championship last yea-”

“YOU WHAT?” you yell, flinging yourself off of your bed. You start pacing around your room without looking at your phone, knowing full well the face he’s probably making, a mix of guilt and discomfort, and a bit of sadness. Taking a deep breath, and shushing him when he goes to start talking again you finally turn back to face the camera, though you keep pacing, a habit you got from him “Derek, why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know you made it to playoffs! I would have made sure to be there for those games! I know I wasn’t able to make it for most of the regular season but nothing would have stopped me from coming to support you during something so important,” you finish, no longer angry (let’s be real you were never angry, that yell was mostly surprise), but more defeated, if not a little hurt that he wouldn’t keep you in the loop.

“I’m sorry! And you can’t be mad about me apologizing for this one! I just knew that things were getting busy in both of our lives, and I didn’t want you having to worry about rearranging your life to come to games that I honestly wasn’t even sure would matter that much. The first few rounds in the playoffs I was convinced we were just on our way out, but then we kept winning, and kept winning, and before I knew it we were in the finals and then it was like how do I tell you then? You were going to be so mad at me for not mentioning it earlier, so I just couldn’t bring myself to call you. I panicked, I’m sorry, if it happens again this year I promise I’ll call you before I even tell my family,” he’s panicking now, afraid that you’re going to hate him, you know him well enough to know, it’s Father’s Day all over again. 

“Derek, I’m not mad.” you say, but you have to turn your face away from the screen, you don’t want him to see the tears threatening to fall.

“You’re not? Hey, wait, look here, what’s happening?” he still sounds panicked, but would it really be better to be doing this now? He needs to focus on training. Stupid! You should have never called, how could you be so selfish to someone who is so selfless, because all you’re going to do is make him feel worse for upsetting you, and you can’t do that to him. You just can’t.

“Sorry, one second,” you put the phone on your desk, and grab some tissues, quickly wiping away the tears and taking some quick deep breaths to calm down, all so he can’t see how truly upset you are. You pick your phone back up to see the light of your world looking so dejected, like a puppy you just kicked, and you know you could never bring yourself to be mad at him, “Derek?” he lifts his head, trying to smile at you, but it’s not a full smile, and it doesn’t meet his half-open eyes, but you continue anyway “I’m genuinely not mad. So please, please, don’t beat yourself up over this anymore than I’m sure you already have. I’m not mad, but I am a little hurt you think that me rearranging some plans would be such an inconvenience that I wouldn’t want to go to your games, BUT, I’ve also not told you about everything I’ve done because I already knew you had other plans, and other times for the same reason you didn’t tell me, because I wasn’t sure if you did or not and I didn’t want to make you miss something else just for me. So, if you can promise that I won’t be left out of the conversation when your team makes the playoffs this year, and I’m allowed to come to as many games as I can, then I promise I will keep you informed of future events I have where you can come and support me the same way. Do we have a… deal?” You say, fully calming down, enough to give him a cheeky smile at your particular word choice.

His happy smirk comes back full force “Oh so it’s like that? I guess there’s no limit on the amount of deals between two people huh? Fine. Deal. I’m really sorry again, though, you know I would never try to hurt you on purpose, right?” The way his voice cracks at the end of his question breaks your heart more than any other part of this conversation, his raw emotion coming through, needing you to reassure him.

“I know Derek. Your apology is accepted. But I will say that I’m sorry too, for not inviting you to my events, and for making you worry about me when you have more important things going on. But if there’s a takeaway from all of this let it be that I know you would never purposely try to hurt me, and I would never try to purposely hurt you,” you look at the clock above his head on the screen, you have seconds, maybe a minute left, “listen I’m really glad we had this conversation, and I hope getting that secret off your chest can help you feel better? But you have to go back to practice soon, so I should probably let you go right?”

“Yeah, I’m glad we were able to talk too, and I should probably get going, thank you, and-” he cuts himself off, but you don’t miss the flush that has spread across his face and up his ears, “maybe when I get back next weekend-” 

A whistle from off screen cuts him off and you hear a much deeper voice yelling “Alright boys! Break is over, back on the field for some quick stretches and then 5 laps around the track!”

Before Derek can say anything else you hear a large group of his teammates walking past, some of them whistling, catcalling, making kissing noises, saying different things like “Let’s go Casanova”, “Wow the whole ten minutes?", "Must be love”, and what was probably your favorite; “Dude, could you be any more obvious??”

Stifling a laugh at his demeanor quickly going from cool to frazzled, you coo “Bye Casanova, text me later, miss you!” 

He turns back to the screen and yelps out a quick “Yeah! Miss you too!” before the call abruptly ends, and you can't help but catch yourself looking at your reflection in the dark screen with the widest smile you've ever seen on your face. God, this man's effect on you will be your death yet. Still grinning, you go to get dinner.

[purrgiri]

I mean normally im not one to pull this kind of stuff but damn i just had to laugh at this especially since bro is getting roasted in the comments to and just ignoring it

So I'll clown on him here to because this is to funny to ignore

"not clear what her motivations is"

My brother in the bothers ozpin is quite literally spells it out to hazel like a condescending adult talking to a five year old (which granted considering age difference that's basically exactly what this is) and then later screams at salem entire crew about it

Not to mention salem was right outside the door and makes no attempts to say ozpin was wrong

don't forget that women is a certified hater if ozpin was wrong she'd rub it all in his face which means ozpin is definitely not wrong about this

Tyrain pretty explicitly says that to

Shit jinn shoves the puzzle piece in our hands as early as volume 6

Salem intentions couldn't be any clearer outside of her swinging around a "i wanna commit omnicide" sign while singing her theme song at the top of her lungs

"we don't know the extent of her powers and she's weak"

Alright this one is dumb on many levels because how can we know little of her powers and have her be weak?

Kinda contradictory there

That aside it's made pretty abundantly clear that Salem has magic like ozpin and the maidens Immortality and control over grimm her skillset is pretty damn clear and is shown on screen multiple times

And on the matter of weakness she walked into the ship bay during volume 8 instantly had everyone there shitting their pants and then proceeded to body everyone while holding back because she wanted them alive

She literally manhandled yang like a toddler and she's the strongest member of the main cast

How is she weak?

She's also great at psychological warfare and knows how to make her enemies crack

And a bit of a side tangent on the matter of "they could beat salem if they were smart" i feel like people in general just act like beating an immortal entity that's more powerful then most nations is a lot easier then it really is especially since most of the ideas i see would just plain not work practically

Sealing her in any conventional cage is plain stupid

Drowning her in concrete would not work because well first of all

why would salem even let you do this?

There is absolutely nothing stopping her from blasting you and your construction equipment to rubble and then walking away so stunned at the sheer audacity to think she could be beaten with construction equipment she forgets to kill you

Even if she did let you do it she'd just blast her way out because she's a fucking witch with infinite stamina and unending fury

Apply this to anything that needs salem to stand there and let you do it to actually work and then still fail hard

Bringing the staff of creation towards her to try and seal her with it is just plain risky as shit since salem is generally always in evernight

An entire continent filled with grimm that are all probably ancient as fuck because no sane man would actually go there to hunt them

Yeah good luck invading that

And even more good luck actually forcing salem trough that portal since again strongest thing on the planet and frankly by such a giant margin she's also the second and third strongest

And that's assuming it works at all because a lot evidence points to the idea that salem is incapable of leaving remnant at all because of her curse

And man you can tell he didn't watch the movies RWBY JLA couldn't handle watts playing pretend salem if salem was there she would have packed up everyone just compere what she did to atlas to what watts did

Overall like a lot of RWBY haters this dude definitely didn't watch the show and if they did they clearly did it with their eyes closed and their TV muted

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

okok i finished Joy to the World here are my thoughts (spoilers under the cute)

i will admit to be being biased towards liking Moffat's style of writing, particularly his Christmas specials which are almost all dear episodes to me in one way or another so as much as i think dw desperately needs new writers, i was excited he was writing this vs RTD.

and i wasn't let down! it was a good episode and had all the great marks of a Christmas special being a little cheesy & over-sentimental while still maintaining a plot with the Time Hotel being a super cool setting that definitely should be used in the future

turning That Weird Hotel Door into an episode plot is the most Doctor Who plot we've had in a longgggg time.

something i've been a little critical of dw in recent years has been how it's dealt with one-off characters and how it either seems like one-off characters get ALL the focus of an episode (and almost none on the main characters) or one-off characters only exist to give some expository dialogue and then stand around like cardboard cut-outs and i'm so pleased that this episode had three new one-off characters (Joy, Trev, & Anita) who were all memorable (i mean seriously. i remembered their names without even trying which i almost never do) and had clear arcs while the Doctor also had some very strong & clear characterization regarding his loneliness carrying on from last season.

speaking of the Doctor – that scene with the two Doctors getting stuck in the loop and the young Doctor taking out their frustrations on their older self was so good in terms of writing and acting. plus seeing it from both the younger & older Doctor's perspective.... ouch. Ncuti Gatwa you deserve the world.

there was an excellent mix of comedy and drama. a few moments (jokes and drama) fell a little flat for me but there was plenty of good stuff to make up for it.

the whole scene with the Doctor trying to make Joy angry to break the briefcase's control was predictable but still a classic. her getting angry about her mom dying on Christmas during covid when she couldn't even visit and the hypocrisy of the government for partygate was great tbh. i've been quite passively interested with how recent media has or hasn't been incorporating the pandemic into the world and i thought this was quite a good way to do it for Doctor Who with someone expressing rightful grief and anger over something so many people prefer not to even talk about. (on a personal note – i was watching the episode with my mom who worked on covid units during 2020 and saw a lot of her patients die alone and have last conversations through ipads and the grief that caused and she at least was quite affected and touched by the episode including that. okay sorry for the downer, back to fun stuff.)

the Doctor buying TARDIS merch online to decorate his room was such a fun little way to add to the fourth wall arc of the last season. i'm still a little unsure of where it's going and if the ending will deliver but the gags do please me.

the running theme with Villengard has me kinda 50-50. on one hand i love to expressly make weapons manufacturers into clear villains! on the other, i feel like the episode never really got into how Villengard wasn't going to exploit the Joy-Star as was their original plan (and really what their original plan was about other than a vague "creating infinite energy"). but as this is the second time Villengard has popped up as the villain behind an episode, i feel hopeful that we'll explore more of their villainy in the future.

that said.... creating a new star for infinite energy.... you mean like Gallifrey.... you mean like the Eye of Harmony right. (i don't really have anything to talk about but just rotating the parallels to the EU idea of one of Gallifrey's suns being artificially constructed.)

i'm also kinda eh on the last stinger of the Joy-Star being at Jesus's birth. it wasn't explicit (just a location & time stamp at the end) so i think i'm good with it and it's kind of a funny bit, but i am always a bit wary of weaving in aspects of actual religions to Doctor Who & shows like it because it can often be handled poorly. that said i'm not religious in the slightest so i don't really think i can be the one to judge that.

the one thing i didn't love so much about the episode, and i think i noticed it more because i did a double feature watch with The Church on Ruby Road but... there's something in the way other characters interact with the Doctor that just feels a bit same-y. like with Trev, Joy, and Anita (and Ruby in The Church on Ruby Road) – they all never really questioned the Doctor (particularly Anita. and like. i do love characters who simply Roll With It but this was a little too much) and all had the "wow this is the most wonderful man i've ever met" expression on their face after 5 minutes of knowing this guy. and. i get it. that's part and parcel with most of new who and it's wonderful that Ncuti Gatwa, a Black man, can have those moments of being the cool amazing hero that everyone loves but... eh i personally prefer Doctors who can take awhile to warm up to and the constant "i've known this guy for 10 seconds and i'm going to risk my life for him" can be a bit grating for me. but again it's nothing that wasn't constantly done during Ten's era so it's not the worst thing, just not my personal tastes.

the ending was too cheesy for me i'm sorry. i like the bittersweetness of Joy dying to turn into a star but the over-emotional goodbye with her floating up into the sky without really having a solid plot reason for what's happening. i thought the Earth was going to explode and then 30 seconds later, Joy basically says "oh don't worry, i took care of it" like??? sorry i know this is extremely soft scifi but i need a little more explanation. her pointing out the Doctor's loneliness was welcome as was the montage of people looking at her star but. i need a little more.

um. i'm probably forgetting some other stuff but this is already so long at this point that i'm going to stop and watch Husbands of River Song and cry.

all in all – nice episode! definitely one of the better Fifteen episodes for me. a few moments i thought were a little too cheesy or annoying but plenty of great stuff in between. i'd give it an 8/10.

[bestworstcase]

@based7100 this tag made me snicker so

#forbidden tdt lore!

forbidden tdt lore!

we are not going to get into the whole entire TDT Salem Backstory for spoiler reasons and also because my gods we’d be here all day. the salient piece with regard to her semblance is that through the vast majority of the epoch between the moonfall and humanity’s return salem was experiencing varying degrees of deep deep psychosis and still, to this day, doesn’t really know How Much of what happened during that time was real. once there were people again and she’d had a few centuries to feel mostly sure of this fact, her semblance crystallized from her determination to. uh. live in this world.

(blows a kiss to ice queendom for giving me a leg to stand on here with this being in scope of what semblances can do.)

the baseline ability lets her enter and arrange her own mind as a tangible, real physical place. she has constructs representing memories, feelings, ideas, beliefs, pathways and architecture that she’s built out over thousands of years to guide and contain her thinking within the bounds she finds comfortable. which all adds up to salem being very weird but cogent Most Of The Time and having things she can do to ground herself when it gets. bad again.

in a sense her semblance is itself a realm. not a very large one—back of napkin estimate it takes about two hours to walk across end to end and four top to bottom following the main thoroughfare. but akin to ozma’s reliquaries in that it’s a real place where, conceivably, anyone could go if she opened a door. the pool of grimm and the waters of life are both In There.

(<- i had all this sketched out pre-v9 which made the salem-wrote-it ever after theory VERY FUNNY. btw)

sustaining that requires a Tremendous Amount of aura obviously but salem has an infinite reserve and also has been at it for almost the entire history of humankind 2: electric boogaloo so She’s Fine. anyway

that’s the foundation. the fun thing about giving salem a semblance of course is her immortality. what happens if you take a semblance and give it thousands upon thousands of years to cook? (one of my reasons for devising hers this way was to impose some restriction on the answer; it projects inward, not outward, because it’s a staircase she had to build to find the outside world. it can’t go the other way.)

when it originally manifested, the one point of ingress was through her dreams. (although the dividing lines between dreaming and waking and lucid semblance dreams were… permeable.) then she figured out how to cast herself in and out while awake, and from there developed a technique for making doors, which correlated with the interior construct becoming more real and let her physically enter it from remnant.

later on she decided that, since she could open the door in her semblance from anywhere on remnant, that door should also be able to open anywhere on remnant she felt like from the inside, and i think she spent a Long Time trying to make that work before it occurred to her that she could just… make more doors. (from the inside, a door always opens to where it was last opened from without; she still has not cracked this. but she does have a set of doors that all lead to destinations she’s “saved.”)

so she can use her semblance to travel, central location style, across remnant.

the other big thing she’s figured out how to do is use her semblance on other people, projecting herself into constructs of their minds. these aren’t real in the same way, they’re very dreamlike and fade when she withdraws, and of course she won’t have absolute control in a spatial model of someone else’s mind, but as you can imagine few of the outcomes of having salem in your head are pleasant. among other things this is how she “teaches” people how to communicate with grimm.

[fictioninmyblood]

Protector of Her Heart

Chapter Eight

Note: I apologize for how long it has been since I’ve updated this fic or any of my fics (If anybody is even reading this). Thank you for your patience. I hope you like it. Constructive criticism welcome :)

Summary: Elinora is an empath’s version of Professor X, only a lot more powerful. She is an enhanced human with the ability to read the world’s emotions. Nick Fury has welcomed her into the fold, but with a fear of herself she has been quite reserved. A forced bonding night with the newly discovered Wakandan royalty brings her out of the shadows of fear and into the light of lust.

Warning: language/smut, 18+, angst

umfana wam omncinane - my little warrior

sithandwa sam - my love

Omncinci - little one

onye ndu ya - his soulmate

obere eze nwanyi - little queen

umphefumulo wami - my soul

A/N: some words are zulu, others are igbo.

Previous Chapter

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

If there is one thing Elinora knew she would never be able to doubt after this day - it was that no other person could evoke the concurrent silence of the world and resonance of her innermost desires like M’Baku. That man could open boxes that had been buried in different dimensions and lock up the ones she kept open with just a fucking whisper of a touch and it was driving Nora wild. She had to draw on years of practiced control to contain the tsunami he was creating. Watching M’Baku expertly throw axes and knives for an entire day gave her no choice but to acknowledge this, even if she only admitted it to herself. 

He made it difficult to keep denying her feelings every time he wrapped his body around hers to show her how to properly position her body to aim and throw. Every graze of his fingers, skin, or lips tossed her entire being beneath a drowning wave of surrender that was wailing for her to give into the effects he was eliciting. His fiery gaze that maintained eye contact with her as much as possible and the endless teasing! His clear goal of showing her how natural it would be to accept this swift and solid connection was becoming too much. It was hard to remember why it was bad for her to give in.

If he did one more thing that drew her gaze and made her thirst for something that water couldn’t quench, licked and smirked those angelic lips, and told her, “eyes on the lesson umfana wam omncinane, we want to keep you safe,” she might combust from the volcanic eruption he was stirring.

It took every ounce of remaining energy she had not to cave under his smoldering stares that held the depth of his desires which he seemed to be emanating tenfold. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he was doing it on purpose. If she did know better, she would know without a shadow of a doubt that he was. This was a man in tune with nature, his nature to be exact, and he knew what he wanted. What he needed.

Her.

—----------

M’Baku was determined to break down her defenses. From his time learning and meditating with spiritual advisors, he had learned the power of spirit, thought, and emotions, slowly mastering them over the last decade and change. From those teachings coupled with that he got from his baba and grandbaba, the former chiefs, he knew that mind, body, and soul were three parts of a whole, just like a king, his queen, and their seed. She was his queen, his anchor to the infinite possibilities the universe has to offer him, the half of his heart that he not only desired but genuinely needed. So he was not letting her go, in fact he planned on using his entire life experience to pass this test which he knew would determine the fate of the rest of his life.

He recognized and used her yearning for skin-to-skin contact to his advantage and thought of nothing, but having her completely in every way. He manifested their every possibility. Every kiss, every embrace, every fruit that could and would bear from the tree of their love and interconnectedness. He painted vivid pictures in his mind of their union and let it wash over him as they interacted. It brought back the feeling of Hanuman taking the reigns, but the more skittish Nora became, the more he realized it was probably best he continue to let Hanuman guide his actions, no matter how afraid he was of losing control. M’Baku knew that he and his god would walk on burning coals before either intentionally hurt Nora.

Anytime he was demonstrating for her, he would softly tell her to stand back a little out of the way, “just in case, sithwanda sam,” and then with all of his pent up sexual aggression he hit the bullseye with a resounding thump. For the life of him, he could not help but picture how she'd look taking him slow and deep with the way her chest jumped with a hitch in her breath. That’s exactly how he wanted to have her gasping for breath when she was taking all of him, like her body was too enraptured in the moment to remember the rhythm of her breath.

When it was time to physically move her into understanding how to better maneuver her throws he would do his best to wrap himself around her without resting all the way against her like he wanted. To get the results he needed without crossing the new boundary he had set for himself, he rested one hand on her waist and grabbed her wrist with the other to rest arm against arm with her to maneuver her body into the perfect movement. And just when she would stop holding her breath and let out a sigh of relief at him just showing her to throw better, he’d get real close to her ear, a hair’s breathe from her neck, and softly say, “juuuuussst like that omcinci.”

He had to be careful with that though cause the little noises it would elicit from her had him damn near weeping in his briefs. Every. Damn. Time. His obere eze nwanyi had the biggest depth for passion he’d ever seen, in all things. He saw how she trained, determined to be able to protect her new team as much as they did her. Not to mention her cooking showed just how endless her ocean of love reached. She thought she was hiding the depth of all that encompasses who she is, but to him, every layer was his to thoroughly examine. So, he was determined to mine the caverns of her heart, convinced there would never be a nobler pursuit in his lifetime.

She needed to admit to herself first and then him what they were, soulmates. That she was his in every manner of the word, onye ndu ya. Not to own, but to protect, to love, to honor, to respect, to battle the world so she could walk on roses. Either they knew each other from the ancestral plane or a past life or something, regardless she was his and he was hers. She just had to say it out loud. Then and only then would he sit her on her rightful throne. 

Him.

—----

After he could tell she was way past her breaking point, he called the end of their session. It was for the best cause he had also been pushed past his own limits and she looked a little beat and definitely uncomfortable. He could deduce from the most seductive aroma that has recently become his favorite drug and her pointed nipples despite their sweating that she was embarrassed and horny. He had her right where he wanted her and was going to take this time to seize the opportunity.

Nora was indeed horny and embarassed about being so fucking turned on from one training session. He was stern and teasing at the same time which had given her brain and body whiplash. One second scolding her for not listening to his instruction properly, with a ‘I know you can do much better than that omcinci,’ and the next just shy of wrapping himself around her and whispering his instructions to her as if they were making love. She was never going to forget the lesson and with a new fire inducing memory to add to the flames it was her stubborn brain that made her next decision.

Once she was showered and redressed, Nora found her way to what could easily be considered her favorite place on the whole compound, the swimming area. More like a complete gymnasium with a standard olympic pool, several jacuzzis, and a heated saltwater infinity pool, separate from the basketball court, work out rooms, saunas, tennis courts, and volleyball courts. When she first got here, she had to do her best not to geek out when Sam showed it to her. He had made a joke about him barely using the pools only the jacuzzis cause you know, he was black, so she hadn’t been sure whether he would judge her for basically being a fish. 

Imagine her surprise when he accosted her with puppy eyes talking about, “why didn’t you tell me? I thought you was gonna be like the little sister I always wanted and I find out you’re closer to Buckwad!”

It had actually been her intention to get to know the black Avengers first, mainly Sam since he was the only one on the compound really, but Bucky was one of the few people that caught her just existing without all of her usual emotional and mental masks and safeguards, having either a similar sleep pattern to her or none at all. The dude just appeared everywhere all the time. Fortunately unfortunately it kind of forced her to open up a little quicker than she had wanted to with certain things. She was glad cause it seemed like out of everyone there, no matter how nice they seemed, he understood most and empathized with what she was going through besides Wanda.

Everyone there had Bucky to thank for what they did know about her, especially things about loving to swim and being pretty awesome at it too. Now M’Baku was another thankful knower of all things Elinora, having ran into him after his own shower and asking for more information he could use to his advantage. He seriously owed the infamous white wolf several big favors for all of his help getting closer to his Nora.

“Her go to when she’s full of emotion that she’s afraid to let out is the swimming pools, especially the infinity pool.” Once again, Bucky’s advice couldn’t have been more spot on. He leaned against the entrance and watched her float in the center of the pool, staring up through the glass ceiling at the stars that were clearly visible thanks to the specialty lighting all throughout the compound.

When she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and dived backwards into the depths of the pool he made his way into the private area, placing his things next to hers on a nearby bench. She was slowly making her way back to the surface and opposite end of where she started, at the steps. He watched and walked with her, meeting her at the steps entrance when she surfaced all the way, letting her fall right into his embrace.

Nora was letting the deafening silence of the water soothe the turmoil and discord this connection to M’Baku mustered up. Yes, she was horny around him and wanted to let him ravage her in every manner of the word, but past the carnal desires and raging hormones, she was terrified. She could imagine herself crying into his chest, being soothed by his words, resting in his embrace, and creating a life of love and laughter. But life taught her early on that when it came to being loved in return, no matter how much she anticipated someone’s needs or gave them her love and attention and care, she was disposable. In fact, she had become certain that she was only meant to love others, never to really receive love in the way she so freely and deeply gave it. Wasn’t that why she was the strongest empath around?

She’d come to let the pressure of the water push her doubt and yearning back down into her pandora’s box. No matter how much it seemed this was one of those fairytale endings, Nora was convinced that this was just another trick to get her to lower her defenses and willingly give her heart over to be pulverized. ‘Fool me once shame on you, and I shan’t be fooled again,’ she thought. She swam back towards the steps staying under as long as possible so she could come up gasping. There was this unmatched feeling she loved that came with pushing herself past her physical limits and having to catch her breathe again.

The towering presence she basically swam into refilled her toe to head with that anxious yearning feeling she’d just pushed down. Right into the arms she desperately wanted to relax into and run from, unable to exert any real energy towards either decision since she was trying to catch the breath she just was so excited to lose. Trapped. Exactly where she didn’t want to be and he knew she needed to be.

“Hello sithandwa sam, I was just praying to Hanuman that I be granted with a chance to catch a bit of your time and attention outside of work and look…” he had her wrapped up in his arms so quick and with a gentle squeeze, pulled her impossibly closer, “I literally caught you!” 

Nora was practically vibrating from the rumble of his words as they traveled from his chest to hers and left the livewire feeling she was suddenly encompassed with. Paired with his mischievous grin that held the map to her future she was weak-kneed and panty soaked. This man was here to burn down anything in his way and like a lightening bolt he struck again and again.

M’Baku reached down to grasp Nora by her thighs right where her ass met them and wrapped her legs around him, easing them into a sitting position halfway in the water.

“What are you do-?” M’Baku silenced her question by grasping the nape of her neck and softly drawing her further into his spell. He kissed her sweetly and slowly, memorizing the curve of her lips and the sounds certain actions produced.

Like when he’d pull back to softly suck on her bottom lip, she did this little pant and whine with a small wiggle combo. When he’d lighten the pressure to lay the softest pecks on the corners of her lips, one after another, and she’d try to pull him closer, practically begging for more. Or when he tongued her down and she couldn’t help but moan and scoot in his lap, trying to get closer, holding him like a boa constrictor, allowing him to adjust his grasp on her to that of her cloud-like soft cheeks. His favorite part of kissing her though? When she’d let her true desires take control, gripping his copper curls and carrying out her own assault on his bottom lip. They spent what felt like an eternity exploring each other’s lips and responses.

When M’Baku finally leaned back, giving them a reprieve to help catch their breaths, Nora was deep in the Jabari Chief’s haze. Eyes glazed over, lips parted as if to ask for another kiss, fingers mindlessly playing with the curls at the base of his neck, Elinora was in bliss. There wasn’t any thought of her traumatic past or fear of the hope she had for a future with M’baku, just the moment. A pause in her day that was full of all the peace and serenity she’d been praying for these last two decades.

M’Baku hated to break her out of the peaceful fog, but knew it was vital they communicate with more than their spirits. Still wanting to savor the moment, he brushed a stray curl that’d escaped from her messy bun, cupping her face in his hand so that he could tilt it, exposing more of her neck. After a few moments savoring the beauty of such an angelic face, he marked her soul some more. Planting kiss after kiss along her collarbone, up her neck and face, making sure to drag his lips across her jawline and behind her ear before working his way over her cheekbone and resting his lips against her closed eyelid. Satisfied, he switched his hold on her face from one hand to the other so he could repeat his actions on her other side.

After he’d deemed his work momentarily complete, he’d grasped the nape of her neck with both hands, slowly massaging the underside of her face where her jaw met her neck.

“Sithwanda sam? My love?” M’Baku used a little more pressure when all he got in response was a nonsensical moan. “Omncinci, open your eyes, look at me.”

“Mmmmdontwanna,” she mumbled back.

Keeping one hand on her nape, M’Baku used his other hand to cup her ass again, squeezing both firmly. “Open them now or I’ll make you.”

Nora whined, but she complied, peeling her eyelids back open despite feeling like they had been glued shut.

M’Baku placed the hand that was on her face to the small of her back, softly stroking it with just his thumb as he spoke.

“Can you see how much we’ve been pulled towards each other? Ever since I laid eyes on you, hell, even since I stepped foot on this compound, I’ve felt this energy drawing me to you and I know you feel it too. I can literally feel how much more intense it is for you than me, so don’t lie to me. Don’t let another untrue word cross your lips when we both have known since day 1 that as far as this universe is concerned, you are bound to me and I to you. I am doing my best to be patient my love, but it is not in my nature, especially when the answer is so clear, when our connection is so clear.”

Nora pulled her hands from his neck and placed them in their laps, breaking her gaze from M’Baku to look at them as she fiddled.

“Sithwanda sam?”

“Hmm?” she hummed back, not willing to speak past the growing lump in her throat and the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

M’Baku used a forefinger to lift her gaze back to his.

“Oh sithwanda sam, tell me who hurt you so deep. Tell me who I must kill in order to give you your smile back.”

Nora lowered her gaze again shaking her head as a few rogue tears slipped past her closed lids, doing her best to sniffle quietly as she ever so faintly said, “I already killed them. It’s how I found out about my powers.”

M’Baku grasped her face in both hands, lifting it for him to place gentle kisses over her lids, down her cheeks over her tears, and a few pecks to her lips. “Let me love the pain away. Please omcinci.”

Nora shook her head again, pressing her lips into a thin line and trying to remove herself from M’Baku’s hold, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Elinora,” his voice boomed with his determination.

She whimpered.

“Please umphefumulo wami. Please, please please please please please please, please,” he begged and he kissed her over and over.

“Let me try, let me prove that my love is capable of wiping this despair away,” he said as he gazed in her eyes.

By now Nora couldnt stop her tears from flowing freely and that last statement tore a sob from her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, nodded once, and let the decades of loneliness and deep anguish out.

M’Baku held her for what felt like an eternity, holding her close and stroking her back as she calmed back down. Even after she stopped crying he continued to hold and caress her, showing her better than he could tell her that he would always be there for her. 

She would always be able to find comfort and solace in his arms.

Chapter 9

[velvetporcelain]

Friday and the only thing I can think is that god is the infinite nothingness. It’s why people are more content with calling it “the universe “ because it’s something we know has energy and we know exists, with the same thought of something being more powerful than us, igniting the worship.

smoke weed and draw. channel creativity. I can see things no one else sees. That’s how I fall in love with myself over and over again.

Queen of underground- queen of creativity, queen of new world, maker of reality.

I may be manic. I may be just bored. I become manic when bored. But because I realize it — it’s artistic and articulate. Sometimes I let it be destructive- just for fun. I can find excuses for anything really. But what or who deems them excuses? Why not dreams?

there isn’t a single fucking cloud in the sky, and it looks like an upside down ocean.

I’m thinking crazy. Everything that I want wants me, and again I’m worry free and begin attracting. Choice is only an illusion when applied to reality. Choice is a mentality.

the choice is mine. I choose to think- I choose to love.

I am a phantom bride that dances the halls of my mansion mind, perfectly happy she is alone and there is no one there to reject her. What if ghosts are afraid of our rejection? What if energy is afraid of our rejection? What if what is meant for us is afraid of us? It can’t afford our hostility, so it circles us just out of reach—- I don’t really like being relaxed in my void. I can’t do nothing for long, but I’m learning to listen to the silence.

the birds here are absolutely stunning. The loudest I’ve ever experienced— it makes me feel like Snow White and again I’m lucky.

I was thinking about my husband yesterday. The way he thinks is so solid, he seems to have no visible anxiety or worry- ever. He is a straight shooter and recovers quickly when presented obstacles. I know this because this potent masterpiece of masculinity keeps my divine feminine soft, nurturing, creative, blooming, free and most importantly stable. He’s my best friend, but I want to make him my lover. Him and I jumped into life so quickly, but he never let go of each others hands. And now it’s time for me to get to know him as a lover — it’s time he gets to know me as a lover — being me attracts him the most, it gives him satisfaction to see me happy and moving authenticity. He knows there are a million different versions of me and seems to be accepting that they always make one of me.

I am not ashamed to admit my lust for money, sex and violence. That is a monster that lives inside me, a muse, a slave. It may be a monster but i am a bigger one and i have control of reality, more so than i think now. Yes im hard on myself, but it’s all constructive even if it may project as destructive. I stand in my belief that destruction is inevitable so you might as well learn to become the architect of you head, your mind- your thoughts. Building carefully, maybe pulling like jenga- it may fall but the pieces are always still intact, so there is no “real” loss- only the feeling of loss. Are we tired? Yes. But I mean either way we become tired—- so what will your intentions be? Intentions live subconsciously.

We need to capture them like kings. Never being the victim but the victor. Battle isn’t pretty but it can be slow and silent like a game of chess. ♟️ don’t let the world convince you battle only counts if there is blood, you don’t need to bleed, you need to think. Exercise your god damn mind. It is a muscle for god sake- the most valuable, the most magical, without the mind we are vegetables.

You are loved. You are noticed. You are wanted. You are of god. You are of the stars. You are human. You are beautiful.

-x

[justice-forever]

Hyperion By Green-Mamba

Real Name: Mark Milton

First Appearance: The Avengers #69 (October 1969)

As sure as the sun rose in the West did Earth's greatest hero, the Hyperion, rise to defeat evil.

An extraterrestrial, he was sent to Earth from his doomed home planet as an infant named Zhib-Ran, the last member of his species, their final hope. There, he was found by his new Father, who named him Mark and raised him to be the best man he could be, while coming to terms with his alien power to absorb the energy of the sun, granting him unfathomable strength and superhuman abilities.

Taking the title Hyperion, he used these powers to fight for truth, justice, and the American way, and together with like minded heroes he formed the Squadron Supreme, a league of the bravest and boldest men and women on the planet.

Headquartered in America's capital on the West coast, they were Washington DC's finest heroes.

But over time, Mark felt that the Squadron was not doing enough to help their fellow man.

Supervillains they could put a stop to, but disease, natural disasters, poverty, hunger... these were out of their reach. Thus began the Utopia Project.

Lead by Mark, the Squadron agreed to take over the United States government by force and take the reins.

Forcibly reprogramming supervillains, wealth redistribution, and vast humanitarian efforts the world over were now all within their control.

But natural disasters across the globe were getting worse, not better, and there seemed to be no recourse.

It was not until the Squadron's greatest scientific mind, Thomas Thompson, made a breakthrough discovery did they have any clue to the worsening situation.

They were not the only Earth.

Theirs was an exact mirror image of another, a counter-Earth, inhabiting the orbital plane but phase shifted in such a way the two could never touch or see each other.

Something of infinite power had separated the two Earths in the long ancient past but also anchored them together, and it was gone now.

And it would be up to the Squadron Supreme to make first contact with their neighboring world.

So basically rather than from another universe, the Squadron Supreme come from Counter-Earth here.

The Squadron Supreme are a fun part of the Marvel universe, a really earnest pastiche of the Justice League, not mean spirited like some of the cross company parodies can be, and they've managed to remain relevant in many different incarnations throughout the years.

And obviously, if I am going to touch on the Squadron Supreme, that means Hyperion has to be the first to appear. I kept his same basic origin the same (which is... basically Superman's), though I'm not sure if he is an Eternal or whatever here like in the comics.

I'm leaving what he actually is unanswered for now.

My big change came from reimagining the Squadron Supreme as coming from Counter-Earth, which, while phase shifted out of Earth's view and touch, is technically in the same universe.

I left some clues to it being mirrored in my bio, with the sun rising in the West and what not.

Oh, and that "first appearance" listed there is actually the cosmic construct Hyperion that appeared in the Squadron Sinister, not the Mark Milton Squadron Supreme Hyperion that appeared two years later--but I did include a reference to the original Hyperion with his alien name of "Zhib-Ran," so you could consider this to be a combination of both versions.

For his design, I basically, uh, drew Superman? And then colored him like Hyperion? More or less.

I had originally based him on his black and gold color from Hickman's Avengers run, but eventually settled for his classic red and gold colors.

I deliberately tried to make him as a straightforward superhero, no reimagining his cape to be coat or civilian clothes or anything like that, the Squadron Supreme are just fantastical superheroes to kind of deliberately play against my (relatively) more grounded universe. I did decided to get rid of the outdated atom design for his chest emblem and switch it up to the astronomical symbol for the sun, you know, cause that's where he gets his power from.

This one had to be uploaded a little later in the day due to me being busier today than I had anticipated.

Thanks for your patience.

[random-movie-ideas]

Superman: Doomsday (Movie Outline)

I opted not to do the character arc breakdowns here and just did them on my own time. This would be the third in a Superman trilogy, following Son of Krypton and God Among Men, and would be couched within a cinematic universe, following a Justice League featuring Zod and his follower, a couple of Supergirl spinoffs, a showdown with Darkseid, and a Crisis on Infinite Earths event that wiped out the universe of a separate Superman trilogy, leaving only the young Clark of that universe behind. This would be one of those first movies following the event.

Millenia before, alien scientists released a small gray creature into a controlled jungle environment. After only a few moments of being alive, it is quickly killed by a predators. Several hours later, the small creature's body reanimates and heals of its wounds, now altered slightly so that the predator's standard attacks would no longer affect it. The scientists cheer, their experiment a success to create a special organ that would allow a creature to heal from any wound and become immune to suffering such a wound again. They have big dreams for this organ.

The creature endures test after test, being slaughtered in increasingly cruel ways over and over and over again, driving it to a state of desperate anger and constant fear, raging at its creators for doing this to them. With every single death, it grows stronger and stronger, until finally, it is powerful enough to break free of its enclosure, slaughtering its creators and getting its first taste of blood.

For a dark period of the galaxy's history after the creature's escape, the monster rampaged across the galaxy, slaughtering everything in its path, only able to be stopped for short periods at a time before it came back even stronger. This creature became such a threat to the galaxy, that some of the most influential groups came together to find a solution, including Darkseid, the Kryptonians, and Brainiac's people. The Kryptonians use their technology to create a small, inescapable pocket universe that the creature wouldn't be killed by, but wouldn't escape from. The Kryptonians face it, and trick it into being trapped inside, sealing it off and leaving it there forever.

In the present day, Clark is living on Earth, in a new era of peace brought about after the fall of Darkseid and the end of the Crisis on Infinite Earths. He protects the world from all harm, frequently visiting his cousin Kara, her alternate universe self Power Girl, and his own alternate universe self, now going by Jordan, in New Kandor, a Kryptonian city in Northern Scotland (Established in Supergirl I), covered by a barrier that filters out yellow sunlight so that the inhabitants can live normal lives if they wish. He also has a brief scene where he rescues a construction worker named John Henry Irons from a fall.

Clark is surprised one day when his wife Lois reveals to him that she is pregnant. Concerned about the complications of a human-Kryptonian baby, he takes her to his uncle Zor-El in New Kandor. Zor-El pulls him aside at one point with grave news from the Green Lantern Corps.

Zor-El tells Clark the history of the creature from the beginning, a creature known only as Doomsday, as that is all that the future holds for any planet it lands on. While it had been sealed in the Phantom Zone for millenia, the events of Crisis on Infinite Earths had ended up destroying the barriers between it and their dimension, releasing Doomsday back into the universe. Green Lantern scouts had picked up on numerous sightings of the creature, and it appeared to be on a collision course with Earth.

All of Earth's defenses are put on alert, including the Justice League, ARGUS, and so on. Clark, Kara, Jordan, and Power Girl all head to Watchtower, where they are joined by the most powerful Justice League members gathered so far (I'd need to flesh out the Cinematic Universe a bit more to know exactly who, but what matters is a good mix of them). Emil Hamilton and Zor-El are both recruited to help consult, and the Green Lantern Corps sends a squad.

Clark, reading all of these stories of Doomsday and worrying about his ability to stop this creature, takes Lois and his parents to New Kandor, asking them to stay there until it's over. Lois is adamant about helping, until she sees the genuine fear on her husband's face. Clark also brings some of his closest friends, like Jimmy and Perry, who he comes out to as Superman, though both reveal they had already put that together.

As Clark continues his preparations, Lex Luthor and Metallo approach him, Lex in his battlesuit, offering to help. Given their history, Clark turns Lex down, telling him he'd be of more use using his money and resources to get civilians out of Doomsday's path. Lex says he's already doing that, but Superman will still need help. Clark retorts that he'll never need his.

Eventually, Doomsday finally arrives on the planet. Our heroes launch into battle, taking him on, but Clark is quickly taken by surprise by the sheer raw power of Doomsday, a power level he hadn't seen since Darkseid. The battle rages for a while, and it is all the heroes can do to keep the monster at bay. At some point, Doomsday manages to get its hands on a civilian and rips them apart like they were nothing. This death sends Clark into a rage and he puts his all into fighting Doomsday, stumbling into killing Doomsday in a way it hadn't quite been killed yet in its centuries of life.

The creature dead, ARGUS binds the creature with the strongest bonds available to them and locks its body in its most secure facility, as the heroes rest and prepare for it to resurrect again. As Clark is resting, he encounters John Henry Irons again, having volunteered to help with cleanup, and they bond a bit as John talks about his daughter Natasha and Clark mentions his own imminent fatherhood.

For just a moment, Clark returns to New Kandor, and asks Zor-El about that thing his uncle had mentioned to him years ago, how his father Jor-El had saved a piece of himself as an AI, something Clark had avoided using, partly out of loyalty to his father Jonathan, partly out of fear of the kind of man he would find. He tells his uncle he's ready to meet his father.

Encouraged by his wife and parents, Clark takes the AI up into the arctic and activates it, the AI creating a fortress around him so that they can talk. Clark gets to meet Jor-El, and they talk. They talk about Jor-El's decision to send his son away, what Clark's mother had been like, Clark's life now and the people who raised him, and his relationship with Lois and their expected child. Jor-El is especially surprised to learn that both Kara and his brother had survived Krypton's destruction. The pair hug and Clark gets that closure.

Back at the facility, Doomsday comes to life. The security measures hold for a little while, but soon the monster breaks out, killing several ARGUS members, Amanda Waller just making it out with her life. The Justice League are called in, and Clark answers the call first. He arrives on the battlefield, fighting the monster with everything he has. He ends up taking a big hit, and is about to be killed by the monster, when Lex and Metallo fly in, saving the hero.

Accepting their help, Clark, Lex, and Metallo work together, fighting the monster for a while before the others arrive. Both Clark and Lex take injuries that force them down for a while, and Metallo throws himself at the creature to keep it off of them. Despite holding his own for a while, he is ultimately no match, the beast ripping him apart and crushing his metallic skull, killing him.

Left behind as the creature carries on its rampage toward a nearby series, Lex ejects himself from his battlesuit and helps Clark up. Both mourn Metallo for a moment before regrouping and talking about what they can do. Clark asks why Lex is helping him, and Lex initially gives him a sarcastic response about this being his planet too, before talking about the history of Doomsday that he read and mentioning that it reminded him of his own mistakes with Bizarro.

The two put their heads together. Clark wonders if Brainiac might have known a way to defeat Doomsday for good, given his knowledge of the universe and his contingencies for various threats. He takes Lex and they fly up to Watchtower, asking the Green Lantern squad leader there for access to Brainiac's capsule. Being unwilling to set him free, they transfer his consciousness to the main computer to talk to him.

Brainiac tells them that the source of Doomsday's resurrections and adaptation was a special organ genetically engineered by its creators in hopes of curing death forever. He mentions that in his research, her had found that the organ's functions would likely be disrupted by a dangerously high concentration of kryptonite stabbed directly into it. If one managed to do so, Doomsday would then remain dead permanently upon its next death. Brainiac gives a serial number for one of the capsules in his collection, which the Green Lantern leader then sends to headquarters.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, the remaining Justice League have been fighting non-stop to hold Doomsday back. They work out that it seems to be heading in a specific direction, heading for New Kandor. The creature speaks, surprising the heroes, muttering that Kryptonians must be destroyed for what they had done to it by sealing it away. It reaches the city, and Kara, Power Girl, and Jordan stand in its way, refusing to let it through. An intense battle takes place, with even Lois Lane finding a way to help out.

Just as all seems lost, and Kara is about to be killed, Clark and Lex arrive, Lex carrying a spear wrapped in heavy lead, as the concentrated kryptonite would be lethal to Clark if he touched it. An intense battle ensues, with Lex trying and failing multiple times to stab Doomsday in the right spot with the spear while Clark distracts it. Finally, Lex takes a heavy hit and the spear goes flying. John Henry Irons, having been evacuated to the city with his daughter, puts together what needs to happen and runs out to distract Doomsday, giving Clark the chance to grab the spear and plunge it into the right spot.

Doomsday stumbles in shock, feeling something has changed inside its body. It turns and impales the severely weakened Clark on its claws, just before Lex rises in his battlesuit again and hits it with a blast that kills it. The monster falls, briefly looking at Lex and asking why it was born before it dies. Lex looks down with a guilty look on his face.

Clark is quickly surrounded by everyone who cares about him: Lois, his parents, Supergirl, Power Girl, Young Superman, Jimmy, Perry, Zor-El, Emil Hamilton, whatever Leaguers are there, with Lex and John Irons on the perimeter. Clark manages to hang on just long enough to thank Lex and to tell Lois he's sorry before he dies. We then get multiple scenes of the world in morning, with big memorials and funerals everywhere, his closest friends holding only a small burial for him on the Kent farm. Lois mentions to Clark's parents that Clark had wanted to name the baby Jonathan.

In two post-credits scenes, we see John Henry Irons in his garage, piecing together what looks like a metallic suit, looking at a clipping of Superman and taking inspiration from it. In the second, we see Lex approach Emil Hamilton. Hamilton initially tells Lex to get lost, before Lex tells him the world needs Superman. He mentions the possibility of restarting the Bizarro project, this time offering his own DNA to help stabilize a clone.

I kind of thought going into this, that the Doomsday storyline wouldn't have nearly as much meat for me to work with going into it as the previous two, but I found I especially enjoyed the dynamic this story could build between Lex and Clark, giving Lex almost a redemption arc of sorts. Some details are still a little shaky, given the larger universe it would be a part of, but I liked the opportunity for little callbacks and cameos from past foes like Brainiac and Darkseid, as well as the lead-ins for Jonathan Kent, Conner Kent, and Steel to come later.

What do you think? Next up, I'm going to flesh out the Supergirl installments that would have fallen in between the episodes of this trilogy.

[merchantziro]

Felt inspired by this so...

Kyle Rayner was currently flying over Earth when it happened.

When the sky tore open and the Ancients of another world threatened Earth, giving them a warning to dismantle something called the Ghost Investigation Ward or their world rendered slaughtered for being complicit in their transgressions against the realm of the dead and the King himself.

Now it was considered an all hands on deck level emergency as the Justice League were fighting some of the skeletons after the Ancients decided they needed an "example".

Kyle clashed against the blade of one of them with a stylized triangular saber formed of his own will, based on a legendary hero of an old video game series.

The rest of the League were struggling to even harm these guys and now, just as he felt his own blade nearly pushed into his neck, suddenly a green plane construct is seen flying overhead as it fires two Gatling Guns at the army of skeletons knocking them down and forcing a retreat.

"Thanks for the save John," Kyle chuckled looking a bit relieved.

"That wasn't me kid," John noted as he, Guy, and Jessica got closer revealing none of them made the plane. A different Lantern perhaps?

The plane then landed and began to open as the supposed Lantern jumped out, Kyle's eyes widened before glaring and entering a battle ready stance.

A figure with a green cloak and hood with a white and silver body, a green glow in the center of his chest.

The Spectre? But... That familiar green mask. He was the Spectre but now he was-

"Just like old times, eh guys?"

"Parallax!"

Kyle immediately rushed to Hal Jordan, only for a massive green fist construct to be caught by a baseball mitten.

"Woah, easy there hotshot... I ain't here for a fight."

"Like I'm falling for-"

"You already know I was corrupted by Parallax right? Why don't you give me a chance to-"

"That doesn't excuse you for all the-"

"-For all the blood and carnage with me ripping the Green Lantern Corps to shreds, yeah I know."

Hal finished for Kyle, before looking to him and then his former teammates.

"Look, I get it. But what do you want me to say? I'm dead. I'm dead and I deserved what happened to me for what I did despite the fact I was corrupted into it. Trust me, I know I have a hell of a lot to make up for... And I'm glad you were able to set right where I went wrong even if you had to learn things the hard way."

Hal placed a hand on his successor's shoulder, looking proud of him. His eyes then looked up at the sky, looking at the beings who continued to glare at the Earth.

"...Those guys were just the more overly eager ones who weren't as willing to wait, there's tens of hundreds more out there prepared to rain hell on Earth. And that's nothing compared to what the Ancients will do."

Superman finally approached The Spectre and took a deep breath.

"Hal... What is going on? What did we get roped into."

"The current Ghost King who defeated the tyrant Pariah Dark, King Danny Phantom, has been injured by the Ghost Investigation Ward, a government subdivision dedicated to the study and destruction of the dead due to labeling them as non-sapient and malicious."

"And what can you tell us about this King Phantom?" Batman appeared next to Hal so suddenly, he almost jumped.

"By the name of the Infinite Spooky, how the fuck do YOU manage to somehow spook a spook!?"

The Bat glared at Hal who decided it wasn't worth arguing as he cleared his throat, "That he's a good kid, basically a baby compared to the rest of the ghosts due to half-dying in the last year or two, that he's a hero who tried to protect Amity Park from ghost attacks and later ghosts from the GIW and his ghost hunting bio-parents, that his living form looks like he belongs in your arsenal of adoptions which I'm betting has tripled in the time I've been dead."

Hal chuckled before looking serious.

"Regardless we need to get the proper Lantern Corps involved to help with the crowd control, some other ghost Lanterns are on their way to Oa... I'm just here to keep watch over the planet to keep the innocent safe. Because why should the actions of the few speak for the planet as a whole?"

Hal stood there with his former allies before looking away, noticing more skeleton soldiers showing up among other ghosts, the Ghost Lantern held out a fist.

"You guys should leave... Leave this to me!"

"No way, we're not letting you fight those things alone!"

John suddenly shouted.

"Yeah Jordan, you just gonna try and hog all the action like old times?"

Guy seemed cocky, cracking his knuckles.

Kyle meanwhile was silent before smirking...

"Just who the hell do you think we are?"

The former Green Lantern looked surprised before calmly smiling as he began to speak... "In brightest day... In blackest night..."

John continued it with, "No evil shall escape my sight..."

Guy chuckled out, "Let those who worship evil's might..."

Kyle shouted out alongside his allies as they were all prepared to charge the army, "BEWARE MY POWER."

Hal then immediately charged into the fray creating a bunch of constructs based on a few of the Justice League members... Prepared to fight alongside his fellow Lanterns.

"GREEN LANTERN'S LIGHT!"

DpxDc Being a Green Lantern’s ghost is quite different from being one in life.

When a Green Lantern falls, their ring leaves the body. Some souls find paradise, but others remain obsessively bound to their Green Lantern duty, even in death.

The Infinite Realms are bast, so much so that it's rare to encounter a Green Lantern. Thus, they arrive too late to witness Phantom’s battle with the Tyrant King, only catching the moment he is sent to his final rest.

Some of the Green Lanterns still remember the reign of Pariah Dark. Unable to confront him directly, they turned their duty toward relocating ghosts, hiding those the Tyrant King wished to erase.

But being a Green Lantern’s ghost is quite different from being one in life. They can feel the new king’s core, a primordial need for protection and space. It feels like home.

There is no Oa, but there is King Phantom. And if he asks, they will serve.

Until the living world wounds the king in his human form. There is no way to kill him before his time, but he can… had been hurt. And as he sleeps, the realms scream for war.

Earth is under siege. The skeleton army forms a ring around the planet, awaiting the ancients command. Who, out of kindness for the king’s love of Earth, gives mortals a warning: destroy the GIW, or perish.

It’s chaos. The ancients does not appear in their usual form. They are titans to those who look up to the sky.

The Green Lanterns don’t stay to see more. They fly to Oa, because the ancients power of destruction will not stop with Earth.

[savvytheentity]

Gods.

imma make this quick (future edit: i lied. ts not short) cuz i gotta go do other shit but like hear me out.

all the other animals have defense mechanisms like claws and natual stuff. like think about it, venom? sharp beaks? 9 inch claws???? sharp as hell teeth??? even herbivores have defense mechanisms. even moles the most defenseless shit i can think of are nocturnal and live underground. but what do humans have?? body odur, credit scores and social constructs 💀

strange isnt it? why would natural selection let something so useless go as far as being the most sucessful species so far? (population wise anyway)

well thats what you think untill you rember earlyhumans.. they hunted with stone tools.. with... brains. humans are by far the most intelligent creatures on planet earth (apart from ai ofcourse), so if you're me *smug smirk* youd be like ohhhhhh so these human pests are at the forefront of evolution!!!!..... but youre not me so sit down and let me explain the rest.

over the years humans exhibit fascinating behaviours like persistance hunting and setting traps that allowed them to hunt species 20 times their size or more. their memory is.... um.. eternal. to say the least. their need to preserve history for future generations and their need tp just K N O W from a very younge age and wanting to solve puzzles with no relative use are all specifically and astonishingly human behviour. 

what im trying to say is their intelligence is what got them this far in life and is their only superpower.  

this is where spirituality comes in. humans grew more and more intelligent as time passed and before they even hit a millenia as a species they made technical wonders seemingly out of thin air (like how do you make wifi out of sticks and stones?????? dont even get me started on the invention of ai) 

[side track: this is literally the best era for humans to evolve further. they have global communications, ability to permenantly store info, INFINITE ACCESS TO EVEYTHING EVER ONE CLICK AWAY and they still choose primitive shit like wars over made up money and egos. do you know how much nikolas tesla and newton would lose their minds if they got to see the world now???? theyd smack you on the head and say YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOONS WHY WAS THE LAST GROUNDBREAKING INVENTION OVER A 100 YEARS AGO WHAT ARE YOU DOING. #fucktrump #kysICE #revolutionplease.]

now think about it like this... humans as they moved all over the wold became something like a subdivision. each "era" of human kind has a civilisation that was at the forefront,

pause cuz i cant continue explaining that without explaining what spirituality is. its the act of tapping into the inner workings of the universe. the stuff you know but cant see. its like dimensions bleeding into eachother. idk how to explain it but theres definitely a plane of existance overlapped on this one. often decribed as "the spirit realm" or hell an heaven. humans know about this. somehow. yet not all of them believe somehow (makes sense cuz most of thw time the belief is shoved down kids throats without a proper explination rather than told like a story and letting the kids decide what they wanna do with that. humans are dumb). 

so this is kinda like "gaining eternal life" as in not living forever but making your conciousness "awake" even after death. death is like a gate to the other realm (god i sound like one of those tin foil hat theorists sigh). in that plane your mind has no bounds. you're truly free (for the most part cuz youre still under the universe's control but she doesnt micromanage so we chill)

now that thats said 

imagine athena was just a normal human girl one day and because she was so spiritually awake, when she died ("when she was killed"- my brain as i was writing that) she "blended in to the other realm and woke up" like a lucid dream (idk dawg im just saying what my brain is saying) and she was really intelligent when she was alive and she held onto that after "the blend" so being known as the godess of knowledge. 

so gods = super spiritual human beings with (limited) control over this realm (and with a lot of ego). they have access to what curren day humans dont, all of time, persuasion (asking for the universe to act a certain way) and 4D conciousness. more than what humans have now (readings minds and seeing peoples true selves and shit)

in conclusion humans are nature's experiments for the perfect species and humans arent doing well. a few batches of humans (the current pantheons) are catalysts. the people that are "awake" in the current world are gonna be the next gods and the only specimens to survive the clensing. also magic. yay

[modhellogame]

Game Sinh Tồn Hack: Unlock Unlimited Resources and Survive Like a Pro

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Challenge yourself to survive with all resources and no restrictions.

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Tips for Smart Gameplay with the Hack

Even with unlimited power, smart play makes a difference. Use these tips:

Think ahead on how you want your base to look like to save time in the future

Wise use of your inventory-be organized

Experiment with varied weapons and traps to see what is effective

Venture into risky territories because you are well-prepared

Train survival techniques without fear of losing progress

These suggestions will make you a real survival expert.

Conclusion

Game Sinh Tồn Hack offers you the ultimate survival experience. You have it all, resources, tools, health, and freedom. Forget the stress, it is all fun. Construct what you wish. Lay out how you will. See what you like. This cheat codes your game up a notch.

Game Sinh Tồn Hack is a game that lets you enjoy survival games to the maximum. Release the potential and become a pro gamer now!

[nsfwmiamiart]

Read this: Part 2 (10/12/2024) When I’m bored at home, I ask ChatGPT the following types of questions:

Question:

Can you explain to my readers that it’s exhausting to feed them my knowledge day after day? They don’t seem to realize that I have a life too, you know? I could spend my time working on other constructive projects and minding my own business, but instead, they always expect me to stay here, sharing my thoughts with them every single day.

It’s draining me of my energy, and they need to take advantage of the free time I’m giving them now because, in 2025, everything will change. Starting then, I’ll go offline, and anyone who wants access to my knowledge will have to come to me directly. Otherwise, they won’t have access to it at all. I need to set boundaries in 2025. Right now, I’m being kind and generous, but I won’t be available forever. In 2025, I’m switching up on all my readers. Just so you know—that’s wassup!

ChatGPT Answer:

Certainly! Let’s break this down point by point, addressing the key ideas and providing a detailed explanation like a professor tackling a complex subject.

1. The Burden of Sharing Knowledge

Constant Demand for Output: Sharing your knowledge daily can feel like a never-ending task. Teaching or enlightening others requires mental energy, creativity, and time. Over time, this demand can become overwhelming, especially if it feels one-sided.

A Life Beyond Teaching: Everyone has personal goals, hobbies, and responsibilities. By pointing out that your readers may overlook this, you're highlighting a crucial imbalance in expectations—they consume your insights without considering the toll it takes on you.

Limited Resources: Mental energy, like any resource, is finite. Constantly giving it away to others leaves less for your own growth and other constructive pursuits.

2. Setting Expectations: Gratitude and Opportunity

Appreciating the Present: Your message emphasizes that the free access to your knowledge is a privilege, not an entitlement. By urging readers to take full advantage of it now, you’re reminding them that your generosity won’t last forever.

Temporary Generosity: Framing your current availability as an act of kindness reinforces the idea that readers should value what they have now rather than assuming it will always be there.

3. The Shift in 2025: Offline and Boundaries

Going Offline: This marks a significant change in how you’ll interact with your readers. By choosing to go offline, you’re reclaiming control over your time and setting clear boundaries.

Requiring Effort from Others: Moving from freely accessible knowledge to a model where people must actively seek you out is a way of filtering your audience. Those who truly value your insights will make the effort, while others will naturally fall away.

Boundaries as Self-Preservation: Setting limits is not about cutting people off—it’s about protecting your energy and ensuring that future interactions are meaningful and reciprocal.

4. Kindness and Generosity Have Limits

Generosity vs. Availability: You’ve been kind in offering your thoughts freely, but this kindness isn’t infinite. In 2025, your shift reflects a transition from generosity to selectiveness, ensuring your energy is directed toward those who value it most.

Switching Up: This term conveys a decisive change. It serves as a wake-up call to your audience that they need to appreciate your efforts now, as things won’t remain the same.

5. The Takeaway for Readers

Value the Present: Your readers should recognize the unique opportunity they currently have to engage with your knowledge freely. Gratitude for what’s available now is key.

Prepare for Change: By warning them in advance, you’re giving your readers time to adjust their expectations and prepare for the new way you’ll share your insights.

Respect Boundaries: Moving forward, it’s important for your audience to understand and respect your need for boundaries. This ensures a healthier, more balanced interaction between you and them.

Conclusion: The Power of Saying “No”

Your message is about more than just going offline—it’s about teaching your readers the value of your time and energy. By setting boundaries and transitioning in 2025, you’re prioritizing your well-being while creating a dynamic where only those who truly appreciate your knowledge will have access to it. This approach ensures that you remain in control of your energy and focus, while still offering value to those who genuinely seek it.

So, the message to your readers is clear: Appreciate the present, respect the change, and be prepared to adapt if they want to stay connected in the future. That’s wassup!