#Catwalk Residency

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[jeffcbliss]

Steven Tyler (left) and Joe Perry of Aerosmith - Dolby Live/Park MGM; Las Vegas, NV. (9-17-22). @Aerosmith @IamStevenT @JoePerry

Photo: Jeff Bliss

[novamariestark]

Cowboy on a Segway

[A/N] this was written on my phone. There may be spelling mistakes, either due to my fat thumbs or autocorrect.

Summary: you and Madison have been alone since the start. You feel completely responsible for her safety. One day you two meet Columbus and Tallahassee. When they invite you back to their camp, you have a little drink with Tallahassee

Warnings: 🔞, piv (unprotected sex), age gap, Venice mentioned as your name but you can change it, oral, poorly written smut

Word count: 3641

Fandom: Zombieland 2: Double Tap

Pairing: Tallahassee x reader

For the past several years, the abandoned mall had been your home. You had managed to scavenge and collect enough supplies from the various small businesses tucked away within its walls to keep yourself fed and tended to during the winter months. However, your resources were now running dry, and you had come to the realization that it was time to venture outside of the mall and find some more provisions elsewhere. Despite the availability of other housing options, you had chosen to make the mall your home, with the only problem being your persistent little sister who had taken up residence in the freezer. Your living quarters were situated on a catwalk hanging down the ceiling of the mall, which provided you with an excellent view of all the shops and stores below, including the one that your sister wouldn’t leave.

You sighed as you encountered yet another zombie. This was typical for any journey outside - always a few of them that either had failed to make it to wherever they were going, or were too comfortable where they were. You had become used to the sudden adrenaline rush of preparing to face another one of the undead - a reflex that you had grown accustomed to over the years.

You raised your trusty axe, ready to defend yourself against the rotting corpse lurching towards you. In one swift motion, you brought the axe down on its head, cleaving it in two. The putrid flesh and bone crumbled under the force of your blow, leaving a mess behind. You wiped the axe clean on your pants and continued on your way, the cold air filling your lungs as you breathed.

But what if something happened to you? What would happen to your sister without you around? The thought crossed your mind, as it often did, as it was a constant and understandable fear. You felt a bit protective of your sister, and you wanted to make sure she was safe no matter what happened.

When you got back to the freezer, you found it empty. You realized you had been gone longer than expected and your heart sank with worry – had something happened to her while you were away? You scanned the horizon for any sign of movement. You quickly dropped the supplies through the door and set off to look for her.

‘What part of stay here did she not understand?’ you asked yourself aloud. Even before the world was overrun by drooling, undead freaks, you were looking after Madison. In some ways, she was like a toddler, you couldn’t take your eyes off her for a second.

A scream and a gunshot caught your attention, sending your heart into an indescribable panic. You knew who had screamed and terror beyond compare had you sprinting towards the source. Your sister's safety was your sole priority and with that in mind, you cocked your own gun, ready to shoot whoever was attacking her.

The distance between you and the source closed with each step you took, until you could hear your sister's voice coming from a candle shop. You stopped behind a board when you saw a – cowboy? On a segway? ‘How tired are you?’

“Don’t mind me,” he said, putting his gun away.

You stopped outside the doorway and peered into the shop. You make your presence known to the cowboy and stand beside him to find your sister hugging a curly haired boy. A stranger. Typical.

“Maddy!”

She released her hold and turned to you, “Hey Venny, look. Humans!”

“Yes,” you said, drawing out the word longer with a sarcastic nod of your head, “That’s why they’re talking,”

“Is this your dad?” Madison asked, turning towards the curly haired kid she had just been glued to. Gesturing to the man with the Segway and cowboy hat. God you loved cowboy hats.

“For shit’s sake, slightly older, better-looking friend,” he corrected. You loved older guys too but being stuck in a mall after the world ended, didn’t give you much of a social life. In fact, the only person you’ve had contact with was your sister, and sometimes you could feel yourself losing IQ points.

'My name's Venice,' you said, introducing yourself as you held your hand out eagerly for the man to take, desperate for any kind of physical contact. He placed his big hand in yours and introduced himself.

“Tallahassee.” He replied, he nodded his hat towards curly, “Not his dad,”

“Didn't think so,” you smirked, almost unable to take your eyes away from him.

He raised his brow and turned to you, his lips forming a smirk to match yours, “Oh yeah? How?” He challenged.

You looked him up and down, “Well, you’re handsome,” you shrugged then you looked over to curly, “And he’s… well I don’t want to be rude,”

“He’s a little spit-fuck, I know, Darlin’” the nickname caused shivers to dance along your spine. He looked around the shop, “You live here?” he asked you, but your sister answered for you.

“No, Paul Blart. I live in the freezer in Pinkberry, mm-hm,” she replied with a giggle, “It keeps the zombies out. Though it is awfully chilly,”

“Ever consider... turning it off?” Tallahassee asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.

“Couldn’t find the switch, like anywhere. I was hoping the electricity would run out.”

Curly then added something about how the dams 'keep giving us power' and Tallahassee had quipped, 'Apparently not brain power.' You couldn't help yourself, and snorted in agreement, quickly trying to hide your laughter behind your hands, lest your sister discover that you were making fun of her.

As she spins to face you, her smile fades in an instant. “l feel like you’re being super judgey. Like, I’m getting a real anti-me vibe off you.” she says, pointing at Tallahassee

“Are you?” Tallahassee retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he mimicked the stance of a teenage girl. His voice had even adopted a slightly higher pitch.

“Oh, my God. There it was again. That’s hurtful. I’m like really good at surviving,” Madison whined.

“What are you talking about? You barely leave the freezer. That’s hiding not surviving,” you told her.

 “What about food?” Curly asked, standing beside Madison, “How’d she get food?”

“How do you think?” You asked, pointing to yourself, “Door to door service,”

“I carry a can of mace with me everywhere I go,” she says, “And I can run really, really, really, really, fast. I used to do a lot of hot yoga and Soulcycle and…”

“Cardio!” Curly blurts out, stopping her annoyingly long ramble, “Sorry, I do a lot of Cardio too. It’s actually my number one rule, which is dorky,” he said, to which you nodded, with a quiet ‘yes’ falling from your lips, which apparently the hot cowboy heard, if the throaty chuckle was anything to go by, “But I’ve got a list of rules for surviving Zombieland,”

“Really? So do I!” she yelled in her annoying peppy voice

“You have rules?!” he asked, getting excited.

“Well actually, it’s mostly just ‘Stay in the Freezer.’” She said, twirling a piece of her bleached blonde hair.

“Yeah, and you can’t even follow that rule,” you grumbled.

“Oh and ‘Don’t Eat Nuts.’ ‘Cause I’m allergic. To nuts,” she added.

Curly smiles at Madison as if she charmed him, “We’ve, uh, set up camp just down the road,”

Tallahassee tries to catch Columbus’s eye, waving his arms around, mouthing ‘no’. he wouldn’t mind you coming to their camp. But your sister? No, he’d rather slam his balls repeatedly in a car door.

Curly ignored Tallahassee and continued, “At the White House, care to join?”

“The White House?! I’ve always wanted to visit the seat of government!” Tallahassee shoots Columbus a look.

Tallahassee turns on the segway and you turned towards Pinkberry where you left your supplies, “Aren’t you comin?”

“Aw dang, you noticed me trying to dump her on you,” you said in mock defeat, earning another chuckle, “I am, just getting our things,”

“I could come with you, watch your back,”

“Is it only my back you want to watch?” you asked, catching him off guard, you shrugged, muttering “Shame,” before walking off.

You walked through the hall of empty shops. The only sounds were your footsteps and the whirring of the segway.

“You know, your boy isn’t going to have any backup if he’s attacked,” you said to him as you opened the freezer door, sticking your hand in to grab the supplies, “Just one more stop,” you said before grabbing a rope that dangled from the ceiling and climbing up to your “room.”

“You lived up there?”

“Yup, so I could keep an eye on her,” you said, pointing to the yogurt shop, “Found a cool spot years ago but she wouldn’t leave. Figured if I left it turned on, she’d change her mind. She didn’t,” you explained.

“Wait, you knew you could turn it off?” he asked, you smirked and nodded.

“Why do you think she never found the switch?” You asked, pointing to a poster on the wall.

“You hid the switch?”

“Like I said, I was trying to get her out,” you shrugged. Tallahassee laughed. Although he did wonder why you didn’t just leave her and go off on your own. He guessed it was the same reason he kept Columbus around, not that he’d tell anybody, “That’s everything,” you said before climbing down the rope and jumping to the floor, “Let’s go,”

***

Soon you were at the White House. That was now, white and green. You had tuned out the list of rules that Curly was rambling on about and your sister walked beside him as if she were a golden retriever and he had a treat in his hand.

“And rule fifty-three - ‘Wet-naps.’” He said pulling some out of his back pocket. You rolled your eyes and looked to Tallahassee.

“Does he ever stop?” you asked, he shook his head as he stared at the back of his head, a murderous gaze in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you keep all this stuff in your head,”

“Thank you,”

“It’s amazing,” she said, she stopped and turned to Tallahassee causing you both to come to a stop, “You know, you’re really lucky you found someone so smart to take care of you. Most people your age get left all by themselves, and that can be so hard,”

Tallahassee closes his eyes, the vein by his temple pulsing, he punches him in the chest, “I am so lucky.” He dragged him away, “Can we have a little summit in the Oval Office?”

“You guys. I can’t believe we’re in the White House. This is soy random,”

“Will you shut up? Please?” you looked around the space and spotted a statue, “Look, go introduce yourself,”

“You know why she’s still alive, right? Zombies eat brains. She don’t got one,”

“It’s true, she’s having a conversation with one of the statues right now,” you said at the door,

“In fact, the statue is smarter than her,”

“See,” Tallahassee gestures to you, “I’m not the only one,”

“If she’s so bad, why have you put up with her for so long?” Curly asked you.

“I could ask him the same question about you,” you said nodding to Tallahassee. Curly opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t want to hear his voice anymore, so you continued,

“Maddy’s my little sister. Like it or not, I’m stuck with her,”

“Oh,” Curly said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s just she’s um you know, like really, y-you know and you’re like y-you know, like him,”

“You know I could kill you, right? Without even moving from this spot?”

Before he could respond, your sister walked in, “Could you maybe give you a tour?” she asked, she looked around the room, “Woah, this is the Oval Office. Wait, why do they call it that?”

“For the love of God, take her on a tour,” you spat out, you needed a break from her. You were starting to miss your little paradise that hovered above ground, that gave you much needed peace. A place to escape before your sister’s squeaky peppy voice forced you to put a bullet in your head.

The two rushed out the door and a hand with a glass appeared in front of your face, you took the glass and downed the alcohol in one, “Thanks, needed that,”

“I can tell,” he said pouring you some more, “It seems yours annoys you more than mine does,”

“7 years in that shithole with only Maddy, I mean I love her, she’s my sister, but God I’d have a better conversation with a poodle,” you said, downing another half glass of whiskey, “I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear this,” you popped the glass down and headed for the door, “I’m going to find us some rooms, far away from you guys, give you some space,”

“You don’t have to, relax, have another drink,”

And you did. Or 5.

***

You and Tallahassee were swapping stories about your 10 years of Zombieland. You were sat on a chair, and he was opposite, sprawled out on the couch, you had to stop yourself from staring as his shirt lifted up higher every time he moved, displaying his abs and v-line.

Soon you heard noises coming from above, “Oh my God,” you groaned.

“I believe that’s what she’s supposed to say,” Tallahassee pointed out.

You rolled your eyes and downed the last of your drink. You don’t know what it was that caused you to be so bold and confident, probably the whiskey, but you stood from you seat and straddled Tallahassee’s hips. You lean in close, your warm breath against his ear “When was the last time someone took care of you?” you purred.

His eyes meet yours, a hint of surprise swimming in them. He smirks, his rough hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you in closer. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he replies, his voice husky.

“I don’t?” you asked innocently. He growled and without hesitation, he swiftly pins you down, caging you beneath his powerful body, his eyes burning with raw intensity.

Tallahassee pauses for a moment, his intense gaze locked with yours, “You say the word and we’ll stop,”

“What word? I wanna avoid it,” you smirked up at him a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Tallahassee chuckled darkly before bending his head, his lips finding your neck. His hands traveled up your back, massaging and kneading the muscles there, making you arch into him further. You moaned, feeling his hot breath on your skin as he suckled a trail up your neck to your earlobe. His teeth gently nipped at it, sending a shiver down your spine.

Breathless, you look deep into his eyes, her voice dripping with desire as you plead, "Fuck me," Tallahassee groans, One hand pins yours above your head, the other travels under your shirt. His calloused fingers trace your silky-smooth skin, his touch leaving a burning trail. He undoes the button of your jeans, yanking them halfway down your thighs. Without wasting a second, he pushes your dampened panties to the side, easing a thick finger between your dripping folds. He kisses your neck and along your jawline as he thrusts two fingers expertly inside of you.

Your back arches off the couch, a strangled moan escaping your lips. Tallahassee's thumb teases your clit, circling and pressing until you're on the brink of ecstasy. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as he begins to thrust his fingers deeper inside of you. You can feel his erection pressing against your hip, hot and hard, and you ache for him to be inside of you.

He started to increase the intensity as he felt your body twitch, responding to each of his movements, “Please,” you whimper, wanting more. Practically begging for it.

Your pleas didn’t go unanswered. He placed one more kiss on your lips before sliding down your body, your eyes following his every move. He pulled your jeans down the remainder of your legs and threw them across the room. As your eyes were looking to see where they landed, you feel something warm and wet seep through you folds. Snapping your head back to him, you see his face buried between your legs. His tongue swirling around your lips as if he’s trying to mop up every last drop of your slick. You can’t help but let out a moan as he bites, licks and sucks at your little bundle of nerves. Your hips buck involuntarily causing him to rest his free hand on your stomach to keep you still.

His hand returns, sliding up your abdomen, cupping your breast and squeezing gently. He licks you one more time, tasting the sweetness that coats his tongue, before looking up at you, his eyes dark with lust.

He stands up and starts stripping himself of his clothes. You clench your legs together to get friction as his cock springs free.

"Like what you see?" he asked, his voice husky and rough. You nod, unable to speak, as your gaze drifts down to the thick length of him. You quickly climb off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

He groans, his hips jerking forward as you take him in your hands. Your fingers wrap around his shaft, stroking up and down the length of him, marveling at the heat and the size. "You're so fucking beautiful," he breathes, his eyes watching you intently.

You look up at him as you continue to stroke him, feeling his skin slide over your palm. His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, you feel like you can see straight into his soul. You lean forward, taking his cock into your mouth, feeling the velvety smoothness against your tongue. You close your lips around him, taking him as deep as you can, and begin to bob your head up and down.

His hands run through your hair, cupping your head as he watches you work him. You can feel the way he trembles, the way his hips jerk forward as you suck him deeper, the way his breath hitches in his throat. You know he's close, and you want nothing more than to feel him come in your mouth.

Pulling back, you look up at him, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. His eyes are half-closed, his head tilted back, his expression one of pure bliss. You reach out, tracing a finger along his cheekbone, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertip. "I want to feel you inside me," you whisper, and he groans, his hips jerking forward again.

He helps you to your feet, his hands on your waist, and guides you back to the couch. You climb onto the cushions, legs spread wide, and watch as he positions himself between your thighs. He brushes a stray hair out of your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone, before leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His cock presses against your folds, and with one smooth motion, he pushes inside of you.

You gasp, feeling the stretch of his length as he fills you. He groans, his hips stuttering as he begins to thrust, the rhythm echoing in your core. His hands move to your hips, holding you steady as he takes you roughly, your body meeting his thrust for thrust. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your nails digging into the soft cushion beneath you.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, his expression a mixture of lust and possession. His lips find your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin, leaving a sting that feels almost as good as the thrust of his hips. "You're so fucking tight," he growls, his words vibrating against your skin.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts with equal force. Your nails scrape down his back, leaving a trail of red lines on his skin. You can feel the tension building inside you, the familiar ache spreading through your core. "I'm close," you gasp, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

He groans, his hips moving faster, his cock thrusting deeper. "Cum for me," he urges, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss. You shudder, your orgasm washing over you in a wave of heat and pleasure. Your inner walls tighten around him, milking his cock as you cry out his name.

His thrusts grow jerky and rough, and you feel the warmth of his release deep inside you. He groans, his body shuddering as he empties himself, his hips still moving even as he collapses onto you, pinning you beneath his weight. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his chest heaving against yours.

For a moment, you're lost in the afterglow of your orgasm, feeling the weight of his body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin seared into your memory. You luxuriate in the intimacy of the moment, reveling in the way he moves against you, the way he feels inside you.

He rolls off you, collapsing to the side, still breathing heavily. You watch him, tracing a lazy finger along the lines of his chest, admiring the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders, "I don't remember it feeling that good,"

"What?"

You laugh, turning your head to look at him. "You know what I mean."

"I think you mean, round 2," he smirked.

"Oh really?" you asked, a smirk of your own painting your lips, "You think you're up for it, old man?"

He swiftly pins you down again, "I'll show you who's an old man, darlin'"

[A/N] I feel like it didn't turn out as good as i imagined.

[attn-pls1]

𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐃𝐑

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 -- Background

When the Order of Guardians mysteriously fell 200 years ago, there were very little survivors. One of these survivors modern day descendants, Tao Lin, now resides in Paris as the guardian of the last know miracle box. Coincidentally, the butterfly and peacock miraculous, both thought to have been lost to time, have resurfaced in the hands of villains in the very same city. Knowing it is too dangerous to become a superhero himself, Tao becomes a teacher at a local college in an attempt to find a new generation of superheroes.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 -- Heroes

Vermilion

Catwalker

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 -- Idols

ENHYPEN

NewJeans

BOYNEXTDOOR

aespa

LE SSERAFIM

Billlie

IVE

TXT

Stray Kids

ITZY

BLACKPINK

Total idols : 62

(Please recommend more groups I need to fill up a whole college 🙏)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 -- Other

Université Marie Anastasie Labelle

Tao Lin

Finally came up with a male ladybug name and I still don't know how much I like it 🙃

Just a mini intro while I work on the details for this dr. Feel free to ask questions about this dr or share ideas for it ! I need the inspiration for the worldbuilding 🥲 this dr is bringing back my yearly miraculous obsession I gotta rewatch the show now 😭

Special thanks to @ningsols for inspiring this dr 🫶

°•°☆°•°

[kattythingz]

I absolutely, 100% want you babbling to me about this AU, yes, PLEASE

So I accidentally wrote an entire ass scene kvjnrekjbe

I got way into it, and this is only one of the scenes I have in mind!! Now that I've written one I kinda wanna do more, fuuuuu--

ANYWAY, ask and ye shall receive! :D. First, the overarching context:

So my main Vision starts with Ling being tossed into YJ, around... three years post-canon of Solaris when edling are engaged and Ed's still traveling around. Some idiot was tryna off the emperor and Ling fucked around with a transmutation circle or sth blah blah crossover logic he's yeeted into YJ.

He lands himself in some kinda facility (I'm thinking cadmus), at the same time that the YJ are conducting a recon operation. He aids in their mission and winds up going back to the cave with them until he can get home. He serves as a good confidant for leadership advice when Kaldur needs it, and Wally calls bullshit on him being an emperor; M'gann is delighted at the new friend, Conner doesn't care, and Robin thrives on Ling's sheer chaos.

Despite that, the team somehow knows even more about this guy's fiance back home than Ling himself. Ed's all he talks about.

This scene happens about a month into Ling's unfortunate stay.

Ling insisted on joining the team—his new friends in this world, if he dared call them such—on their most recent recon mission to cadmus again. Batman reported that there’d been hearsay of strange emissions around cadmus. Mystical emissions, though not any kind the JL had encountered before sans once: when Ling had crash-landed into this world a month ago.

If it’d get him closer to finding a way home, this was completely his business, and nobody could stop him. The YJ, born of such rebellion, backed Ling on his stance.

They split up to cover different corners of the lab, and Robin and Ling, the resident lurkers, got the catwalk in the main lab where Ling originally landed. The giant transmutation circle was still there, littered with random knick-knacks that very likely could’ve been pulled from Amestris, and the reason for those emissions the JL were concerned about. Perhaps the sheer number of the “summonings” had made it seem worse than it was, or—

Robin halted in his intense scrutiny of the circle at the heavy sound of the double doors opening. Ling halted for another reason entirely, as a familiar energy flared in the back of his mind.

He whirled without thinking, stumbling to his knees in his haste to get a closer look down below. 

Robin barely reacted, crouching beside him to peer at the head scientist striding in, the two guards following behind, and—

“—get your fucking hands off me!”

And gold.

Ed, spitting and snarling at the guards.

He was still dressed in a similar manner to when they’d last seen each other a year ago, when Ed had dropped by Xing for a brief, surprise visit after two years apart already. The state of his clothes, however... His maroon cargo pants were torn at the bottom, like they’d been caught on something, and he was only in a black high-neck short-sleeve—not a jacket in sight like usual, showing off the flamel tattoo on his right bicep. His face was scratched and bruised and stray hairs fell from his bangs and clung to his sweat-laden brow.

Ed had been here a while. It was obvious to anyone who could see.

Ling couldn’t breathe.

“You’ll have to forgive my men for their… rougher precautions with you,” the head scientist spoke over the fire. “Our last guest wasn’t nearly so testy as you, you understand. And I rather prefer these parts of my lab intact as solid.”

We’ve got a prisoner in the vicinity, Robin’s voice startled Ling when it echoed through the team’s mind link. Motion?

Strictly observe, for now, came Aqualad’s prompt answer. Who is it?

Looks like a teenager—

“I understand what I’m going to melt next, if that’s what you’re saying,” Ed’s snarl interrupted Robin, and, oh—Ling hadn’t noticed at all, but his heart squeezed at the tone. He’d missed Ed like a limb, and that ferocious baring of teeth, that no-doubt flare of his eyes like—

“Yang’er,” Ling breathed.

Robin spun on him that time. “What?”

He’d forgotten Xingese translated cleanly as “Mandarin” in this world. Robin understood the nickname instantly, and epiphany didn’t lag after.

“Hold on. You mean—?”

“That’s Ed,” Ling choked out, eyes frozen on the scene below with his heart. “That’s—”

“Your fiance?” Robin asked sharply. When Ling didn’t, couldn’t, answer, he cursed and said into their link, Guys, that’s Ling’s Ed down there.

The fiance?! M’gann yelped. Wait, so that means—

So that’s why, Kaldur intoned somberly. Those emissions Batman warned us about, they must’ve been caused by summoning of another person.

Wait, then, shouldn’t we intervene now? Superboy said.

Not yet, Superboy. We must observe—

They were talking about Ed. Like he was just anyone, a mere prisoner. Ling knew none of it was personal, but with the scientist looming so close to Ed, his mind was blurring into tunnel vision on the scientist’s smug voice continuing, “You can certainly try. Though I doubt you’ll be able to with that necklace on now. It might be amusing to watch you test its limits.”

“I’ll show you fucking amusing, you son of a—!”

It didn’t occur to Ling immediately. But his eyes dropped to take in Ed’s snarling expression again, reassure himself of his safety for now, and he froze on Ed’s neck.

His neck, that was collared.

They’d collared Ed—

White noise erupted in Ling’s ears, barely catching Robin’s hissed noise at him to—do something. He wasn’t sure. It bled into darkness when Ed was held back by the guards from lunging at the scientist.

“And what does that say about you, huh?” Ed continued growling. “So scared of one me, you need shackles and a collar on me? You can’t even face me on my level.”

“You spit a lot of poison,” the scientist remarked, dismissing the words, to Ed’s visible incensation. “The other one was much keener on keeping his fangs to himself. Smarter, too, for that. It’s a shame about not having been able to figure him out before he fled.”

Ed’s head snapped up, then. Daggers locking on the scientist’s words.

The scientist caught the look, and smirked. “Oh, yes. You aren’t my first honored guest from your world. My only mistake with that one was underestimating him under all his blathering. But—” 

“Dude!” It was Robin’s hiss that snapped through Ling’s nerves, and his hand that abruptly shot to keep him from leaping with a searing rage when the scientist grabbed Ed’s chin to make eye contact.

“That is all redundant,” the scientist drawled, amused at Ed’s resistance, “considering you already seem familiar with each other.”

“That’s world-cist.” Ed breathed heavily to hold steady in the scientist’s grip and avoid giving him further satisfaction. “You assuming everyone in my world knows each other now?”

The scientist’s gaze wandered, and without warning, he released Ed’s chin, leaving him to stumble—just in time to take advantage and yank Ed’s restrained arms up by the wrist.

“Hey!” Ed barked at the painful angle, refusing to give but clearly wincing, and Ling’s breathing was requiring its own heavy steadying now to keep from shrugging off Robin’s hand and lunging anyway. The man was touching Ed’s battered arm, squeezing especially the bruises and turning them white from the force—

Ling inhaled shakily. And again. 

“Not everyone,” the scientist hummed, observing Ed’s ring, “but most certainly you two. The other one was wearing a ring too. Now, I don’t gamble much with coincidence, but… it’s a rather funny timing, two in a row, don’t you think?”

“I think,” Ed growled, “you should let go of me, right. Now—”

“This is gold too, isn’t it? I was pondering testing the precious metals of your world against ours. If I melt this dow—”

He cut off on a yelling grunt when Ed slammed his shackled wrists upward into his jaw. The scientist spat blood with the motion, and Ed recoiled as far as he could before a guard was on him again. 

Ling could just taste the fire in Ed’s glare when he snarled, “Try that, and I’m melting your face next. I know… exactly where to break down your structure.”

Holy shit, Wally’s thought echoed in the deafening silence that followed.

You could say that again, Artemis agreed.

Ling ignored them both, his heart reaching in favor of Ed’s direction. That was right. Ed wasn’t just any prisoner. He wouldn’t let himself be. He’d sooner bite every hand that tried to feed him here than give them satisfaction.

Ling’s next breath carried through his lungs, that time, and Robin let out his own exhale next to him.

The scientist knows Ed and Ling are connected, Robin reported, at ease now. It’s not insane to guess that—

He’ll try and use one as bait for the other, Kaldur finished. 

Ling clenched his jaw. That’s not happening.

Obviously! Wally said. So, what’s our plan now—?

I’m getting Ed before that passes.

Wait, what—?

The others voiced their concerns, but Ling had already blocked them out, his sole focus in sight. And he wasn’t planning on digressing from it.

“You don’t have to help me,” he said as he stood, aware of Robin’s silent gaze on him. The two of them were… similar, in their practiced masks, however much younger Robin was. They had a mutual understanding, and so he continued, “I will carry this out on my own if I must. You can—”

“Dude, are you kidding?” Robin’s laugh thawed Ling’s solemnity, and he glanced, surprised, at him. “I am so in for a rescue mission. I’ve gotta meet your fiance now!”

Ling’s grin snuck up on him, perhaps a little too wide with the heat in his blood.

“Ed’ll be delighted,” he said, and even as the guards escorted Ed out of room again, his knees didn’t crumple that time. He took a deep breath, and gripped his sword. 

“Let’s move, then.”

next ->

[qibsichan]

Culture of the Destroyed ⛓️‍💥✨

~.*COME TO OUR LAND, OUR LAND OF LOVE*.~

So you’ve been accepted into the Cult of the Destroyed! But what is there to expect once inside?

Origin

Our beloved cult was founded in 1991 by the beautiful, holy and sacred Moon Queen. She breathed her dreamsmoke upon our oppressors and rive them to madness - while granting us the sweetest visions of our lost past. Legends say that the Queen was once a prisoner to the execution grounds… until her illustrious influence inspired a coup in her followers.

Though it began shakily, held on the backs of terrified refugees and convicts, each toy banded together in the name of once-cursed innovation to seek methods of survival. Just when all seemed lost, the Moon Queen discovered something. Seeds. And once food and water were secure, the Cult of the Destroyed began to flourish.

Layout

The Cult resides within Playtime Co.’s recycling plant, colloquially named “Destroy-A-Toy” by humans and toys alike. The warehouse is enormous and stocked with machinery, sorted goods, disposable garbage (ripe for the picking!) and many, many execution methods. Be it crushing from the plant’s crown conveyor belt, incineration from the heat pits, dismemberment from the dangerously whirring fan blades or - God forbid - digestion from the monstrous carnivore who resides inside, the cultists of Destroy-A-Toy have near-infinite ways to deal with intruders and traitors alike.

The plant’s centre is an enormous rectangular prism with an extremely high vaulted roof. In its centre sits the main conveyor belt, which leads to the crushing block. This is a gathering space and where the executions take place. The conveyor is only ever activated when the cult is legitimately in danger; therefore, the space is used for socialising, entertainment and general silly shenanigans.

To the left are the living quarters:

Rooms, tents, blocks etc.

Food court and banquet hall

The medical tent

The nursery

Most ritual activities

And to the right are the more industrial aspects of the facility:

Recycling chute

Incineration, dismemberment and digestion wings

Cell block (repurposed to hold humans)

Water purification systems

Catwalks to the cavern

The cavern leads to an enormous lake of water found under the plant. Destroy-A-Toy is powered electrically so it’s uncertain why such a large body of water exists, but what the cultists DO know is that it contains an underwater tunnel network that could potentially lead outside the toy factory if any were brave enough to dive. This lake is is filled with fish carefully managed by the Queen’s people.

The importance of the lake:

Provides drinking water once purified

Provides cleaning water

Allows crops to grow with the assistance of floodlights

Both recreational and educational fishing

The lake has been decorated with bioluminescence, fairy lights and cave paintings and is a beautiful sight to behold.

Food

Light, water and seeds are required for the cult’s agriculture. They take great delight in their cooking and host weekly banquets to celebrate their achievements. Toys were often starved as convicts and are therefore thoroughly fed under the Moon Queen’s care. Over time and through the assistance of a mysterious supplier, the Destroyed have learned to cook potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, peas, cabbage, spinach and corn. The incineration plants are used to cook, boil, steam and fry food. Most is served with fresh fish from the lake. Delicious!

This is California. The fish are ABUNDANT. And her beloved majesty is a cat, after all. If only she could grab some chicken… sigh.

Style/Aesthetic

Destroy-A-Toy represents freedom. Therefore, it adores:

Bright, pretty colours

Regal and imposing architecture mixed with cutesy little inhabitants

VEGETATION. These guys LOOOOVE their plants. Vines, trellises, leaves - since they’ve never been outside, they’re cherishing what they have. The living quarters particularly are filled with green space.

Gentle, coloured lights and bioluminescence

Celestial bric-a-brac - sun, moon, stars

Bead curtains outside the tents

Jewels/jewellery. Very celestial and goddess-y

Stuffing, coloured clothes patches etc. to fit the “toy” heritage

🌿🌺✨💎👼🌙🍇🪻

Rituals

Many of its rituals are hidden from outsiders… but you’re in the cult now, so you deserve to know!

The most important ones you must know are the Executions, the Campfire and the Cuddle Puddle.

Executions take place when traitors, prisoners or abusers are officially condemned. These are bloodthirsty public ceremonies that are NOT for the faint of heart. Just a casual reminder to never piss Catnap off.

The Campfire is the cult’s local worship ritual. The cult will gather around the conveyor belt, where a ring of fire is constructed. The Queen is seated in the centre. Music is performed and a dance celebration occurs - and, at the song’s climax, Catnap will release her smoke, iniviating worship.

The Cuddle Puddle is everyone’s favourite. According to the Moon Queen, “One cannot be happy when affected by the bad vibes! So we mush squiiiiiiish the bad vibes out! Very cuddly.”

Are you staying? ✨

We hope to see you participating in the Campfire soon… 🐦‍🔥

Oh! And here’s our playlist! For the vibes :)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1922 home in Los Angeles, California started out as a power substation. It closed down and was professionally remodeled in the 1990s. Since then, it was a home, an art gallery, and a show dog kennel. It has 3bd, 4ba, & is listed for $7M. It was also the backdrop for several horror films.

This entrance looks like it was an art gallery. It looks like it hasn't been painted or cleaned since then, and the look in this area is very industrial.

Looks like a a game room in this corner. There's a TV and chairs, but there's also a game table and pool table.

There's a catwalk above this area, and you can see through the two glass windows, the separate living quarters.

That glass structure is interesting. This is definitely still an art gallery.

Now, we're in the residence and this the living room. The style is modern and industrial. It's an interesting building.

It certainly is roomy. The dining room easily accommodates this large table with upholstered chairs. Display shelving is in the window, probably from the gallery.

The kitchen is very industrial. It even looks like a factory kitchen. It doesn't have a warm atmosphere.

Isn't this an interesting bedroom?

Look at the size of that counter. Why did they only give it one sink, though.

The main bedroom is a completely different and unique style.

There's a walk-in closet/dressing room.

Plus this very compact and sleek en-suite.

There are several patio areas behind the building.

Weird looking roof.

Even though it's in Los Angeles, this is a terrible area, so I don't think it's worth $7M. Can you imagine sitting all alone at night, lucky to have a few trees, next to a semi truck depot, a highway, across which, is a shipping container yard.

[coolstoriesbro]

FOR THE ONES WE LOVE | CH. 6

FANDOM: The Walking Dead

SERIES: For the Ones We Love

STATUS: Ongoing

ERA: Prison

PAIRING: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Female Reader (No Use of “Y/N”)

CHAPTER SIX: Close Quarters

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

SUMMARY: Tensions rise when the group returns to the prison with Glenn, Maggie, and Merle.

RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Language, Discussion of Possible/Attempted Sexual Assault, Merle Being Merle

SERIES MASTERLIST

True to his word as always, Rick sent Daryl and Merle to another cellblock upon the group’s return to the prison. He’d been distant towards you since your talk with him back in the woods, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. After fleeing Woodbury, Daryl had made it clear that he wouldn’t return to the prison without his brother. It was an ultimatum, one that Rick hadn’t appreciated, but you’d reminded him how Daryl had selflessly saved all your lives, and if he chose to abandon them, he would be leaving your savior for dead.

The more time that you spent thinking about it, the more the thought of leaving Daryl behind made you feel sick. It was more than guilt; though if Rick had said no to him and Merle coming back, you certainly would have felt that in abundance.

No, it was something else; something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on . . . and maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to.

Maybe it was easier to chalk it up to guilt.

Easier was better these days.

Easier was safe.

Michonne went to Hershel where he saw to her wounds and was forced to relinquish her sword before being assigned a cell where she could rest. The last you’d seen of her; she hadn’t put up a struggle. The woman could barely stand on her own after the two-mile run from Woodbury to the Hyundai, and you could tell that she was grateful for the shelter. Rick didn’t seem too keen on having her stay but agreed to let her take a few days to recuperate at Hershel’s insistence.

Once everyone who needed it had been seen by their resident doctor, Rick updated those who had stayed behind on what went down in Woodbury. Both Hershel and Carol thought it would be best to get back on the road and begin the search for a new home, but the rest of the group vehemently disagreed. Everyone was anxious after making an enemy in the Governor, but they saw the potential for a home in the prison and weren’t willing to give it up without a fight.

It was terrifying, how after only living in the prison for a month, you were willing to fight – to die for these people, if necessary. Terrifying, but also a wonderful thing to have found something worth fighting for in a world that you’d thought was hopeless. These people had become your friends; had shown you kindness when they didn’t owe you a goddamn thing. How many other people could say that about a group of strangers they’d stumbled upon at the end of the world?

Since returning to the prison, things had mostly gone back to normal. Daryl and Merle kept their distance, with only the youngest Dixon brother making appearances to retrieve their meals from the dining area a few times a day. As much as you found yourself thinking about Daryl, even missing the disagreements you had with him over the silliest things, you didn’t question the new living arrangements. It didn’t seem right after what Glenn and Maggie had gone through.

Over the next few days, each member of the group took turns at the guard tower to watch for signs of the Governor launching an attack. Additional duties included searching beyond the armory in case there happened to be any weapons or ammo that had been overlooked, and gathering all the scrap metal from the yard, using whatever they could find to fortify the exposed areas of the prison.

“I still can’t believe Rick let him come back.” Glenn fumed as he worked with you to secure one of the catwalks overlooking the prison yard.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitated, wondering how you could spin this in a positive direction. It took you back to your days in high school, when your friends were both pissed at each other and you were caught in the middle, trying desperately to mend their relationship. Of course, what had happened between Glenn, Maggie, and Merle was much more serious than anything you’d ever had to mediate before.

“I don’t know, Glenn. I mean, maybe the Governor was Merle’s only choice?” You reasoned, picking up a crate and turning it on its side against the fence. “He was on his own in Atlanta, down a hand, probably close to bleeding out . . . ”

Carol had filled you in on the details of how Merle had gotten separated from Rick’s group in the first place. While the older woman was clearly not a fan of Merle Dixon, nothing she’d told you about him had made you regret your influence over Rick bringing Merle back into the fold.

Feeling Glenn’s eyes on you, you sighed. “It’s just . . . the world’s different now. Things can’t be so black and white.”

“You too, huh?” Glenn shook his head.

“Look, I’m not saying forgive and forget.” Turning to face him, you continued. “What Merle did to you was horrible, and maybe we can’t trust him — but you didn’t see that arena. The Governor’s men already outnumber us, and he has seventy more townspeople that he could recruit. We need all the help we can get if we’re going to survive this, and Merle knows how that asshole thinks.”

Silence filled the air as Glenn contemplated your words, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. More pensive. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he returned to the task at hand, working on his side of the catwalk.

“It was bad for me with Merle.” Glenn finally spoke up a few moments later. “But it was worse for Maggie. She was interrogated by the Governor.”

Setting the next sheet of metal down rather than continue with your ministrations, you turned to face Glenn once more, giving him your full attention. You’d known that he loved Maggie from the moment you’d met him and saw how he lit up around her, but if you’d had any doubts, they would’ve been squashed right then and there as you watched him; his dark eyes full with tears of concern for the woman he loved.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Glenn shook his head. “When the Governor – Jesus, I hate calling him that! I feel like I’m showing him respect every time I call him by a title that he doesn’t deserve, but I don’t even know the bastard’s real name.”

Tilting your head, you smirked as you nudged him gently with your shoulder. “Hey, there you go. Bastard. Suits him perfectly!”

Glenn nearly cracked a smile at your suggestion, but pressed his lips together at the last second, as if feeling anything other than misery right now made him feel guilty.

“Okay, the Bastard.” He nodded. “When that fucking bastard brought Maggie to my room, s-she was . . .”

Glenn stopped after he began to fumble over his words. “Hey, you don’t have to talk about this—" You started, lowering your hand over his.

“No, I need to.” Glenn inhaled. “She was only half-dressed, and I don’t know for sure, but I think — I-I think he —" He clenched his fists by his sides, visibly starting to shake. “Fuck.”

Glenn bowed his head in silence, but even so, you knew what he was insinuating. With your hand gripping his, you gave him what you could only hope was a comforting squeeze, but deep down you felt selfish. Selfish because you didn’t want him to go any further — because you didn’t want to have to hear those words and think back to how the same thing had almost happened to you in Atlanta.

Even though Glenn had stopped himself, the memory of Gorman found you regardless; his hands clawing at your scrubs, his weight pressing you into the desk, the smell and sensation of his sticky breath ghosting over your neck and ear as he pulled you closer.

When you’d escaped Grady Memorial, you’d had nothing but those scared, lonely nights on the run to think back to how that monster had tried to force himself on you. But since moving into the prison, the memories were fleeting; the fear becoming something that you thought you might be able to push back to a place where it couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“Shit!” Glenn suddenly cursed, panic spreading across his face when he caught sight of someone rushing past the door.

Maggie.

You looked up to follow his gaze, but she had already come and gone in the span of just a few seconds. Setting his crate aside, Glenn made to follow her, but you grabbed onto his forearm, bringing him to a halt.

“Let me.”

He shook his head, shame flooding his features. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m such an asshole.”

“It’s okay.” You assured him. “I got this.”

When Glenn didn’t stop you, you turned and jogged towards the door. Making your way inside, you caught sight of Maggie rounding a corner.

“Maggie, wait up!” You yelled, falling into step just a couple of feet behind her as you hurried through the corridor.

“I don’t have anythin’ to say to you.” Maggie hissed.

“OK, so maybe you could try listening?” You suggested, following her into the empty dining area.

There were a few empty plates and bowls that had been left behind after lunch, and Maggie attempted to busy herself by putting everything back in its place. At your comment, she turned to face you, her hands full and her expression twisted with anger.

“Look, I know you’re not a big fan of me, but you need to know . . . Glenn’s putting himself through hell. He’s worried sick about you, and he just needed someone to vent to.”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry that this has been so hard for him!” She exclaimed sarcastically.

Lowering your chin, you pressed your lips together. That was fair. If Maggie had really been through what Glenn assumed, you couldn’t exactly fault her for lashing out.

Especially at you.

“Maggie, please—”

“I don’t need your help! You don’t know anythin’ about it!”

“You sure about that?”

For a moment, Maggie said nothing, just stared. Then a look of uncertainty flashed in her green eyes, but just as soon as it had appeared it was replaced by that same look she’d given you when you first arrived at the prison. She didn’t know you, and she didn’t want you here. Why the hell would she reveal the worst thing that had ever happened to her to some stranger?

Tossing the plastic plates and bowls back onto the table, she stormed off, leaving you to clean up the mess. The rage you’d seen in her wasn’t unfamiliar, and you really did feel for her, but all the emotions you’d felt coming from the others since returning from Woodbury were starting to take their toll, and you could only handle so much.

Leaving the mess behind, you grabbed your messenger bag from where you’d left it on the table at lunch and exited C-Block.

—

Desperately needing a distraction, you decided to do some exploring on your own for the first time since arriving at the prison. After making your way down the maze of dark corridors and venturing further into unknown territory, you took note of the arrows that had been spray painted on the walls, pointing back into the direction of C-Block should you lose your way.

The hallways were pitch black, so much so that the white flashlight beam bouncing off the walls was practically blinding. And it was so quiet, with only the sound of some leaky pipes and the occasional squeak of a rat skittering by to break up the eerie silence. You were careful not to take your time, hurrying through as fast as you could before you lost what little nerve you still possessed.

Eventually, you found yourself in a room that had been abandoned like all the rest. There were overturned tables and bookshelves, but further in, you discovered a small area surrounded by plexiglass. Behind the glass, there were racks on display that held packaged snack foods, candies, bottled water, as well as sodas, magazines, slippers, and a variety of other items. There was even medicine, and some bandages.

The commissary.

It was beautiful.

While it wasn’t guns and ammo, to you, it was a hell of a lot more exciting, and you knew that the group would be happy to see these long-forgotten indulgences. Over the next several minutes, you loaded your bag up with food, water, and medicine. Later you would bring Carol back with you, or maybe ask Rick if Carl could tag along to help you pack up the rest.

Once your bag was practically bursting at the seams, you continued down the long stretch of hallway, following the signs imprinted on the otherwise bare walls until you found the exact cellblock that you were looking for.

“I come bearing chips!” You announced, swiftly making your way into D-Block to find Daryl reclining on one of the bottom bunks with his crossbow on his lap. The sight made you wonder if he ever went anywhere without the thing. It was like he was an action figure, and the crossbow was his one accessory.

“Are they stale enough to break a tooth?” You continued, stepping into his cell, and tossing two bags of individual sized chips onto his mattress. “Why, yes, they probably are, but . . . ” You shrugged. “I never thought I’d see chips again, so I’m not about to complain.”

From the moment that you joined him, Daryl’s eyes were drawn to you; his blue gaze watching closely, but still he said nothing. Suddenly, you felt like an idiot who talked way too much, and even more so for allowing yourself to think that the trip to Woodbury had somehow softened him towards you.

“You don’t like chips?” You asked, awkwardly moving your hand to the back of your neck.

Daryl shook his head. “I like ‘em, just wasn’t expectin’ any visitors.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

“I didn’t mean to bother you.” You took a step back. “I can—”

“Did I say you were botherin’ me?”

Jesus Christ.

Which was it?

Did he want you here or not?

You opened your mouth, about to say as much with the exhaustion of the last few days truly beginning to wear on you, when he spoke first.

“Just, no one was exactly rollin’ out the welcome mat back there.”

“Did you really expect them to?”

Daryl shrugged, gnawing on the inside of his lower lip as he looked back down at his crossbow and continued doing whatever it was that he was doing to it.

While you didn’t know the Dixon brothers’ entire story, from what you did know, you had a pretty good feeling that Daryl had spent most his life being ostracized by the people around him simply because he had a brother like Merle. It had to have been incredibly lonely, and you hated the thought that the past was now repeating itself with his newfound family.

Deciding that you’d be waiting forever for an invitation if it were to come from Daryl, you took a few more steps inside his cell as you rooted through your messenger bag to pull out a couple packets of beef jerky.

“Thought you might like these, too. There’s enough for both of you.” You offered, extending them to him.

“Merle an’ me went huntin’ earlier.” He muttered. “Already ate.”

Well, Daryl had done the hunting. Merle hadn’t hunted shit, he’d just bitched and moaned and pissed on things while Daryl did all the work, same as always.

“Okay.” You started to pull your hand away when he suddenly turned his body to face yours, his legs dropping over the edge of his mattress as he reached out to take it at the last second, his three middle fingers brushing over your knuckles.

“Nah, we’ll still eat it.”

Holding your breath, you met his eyes again as you released your grip, letting the packets fall into his awaiting palm.

Daryl gave a swift nod of thanks.

“No problem.” You breathed. “Brought this, too.”

He tilted his head, watching as you pulled out a First-Aid Kit.

“When we first got back, I noticed that you didn’t let Hershel look you over.” You explained. “You need to wash out that cut beneath your eye and apply antiseptic.”

“I will.” He muttered.

“No, you won’t.” You sighed knowingly, removing a rag and a bottle of water from the bag over your shoulder.

“Why d’ya care so much?” He asked.

“Because you’re the best hunter we have, and if the infection spreads to your eye and blinds you, I’m gonna get pretty sick of eating stale vending machine food.”

Daryl scoffed. “Ya got those two rabbits yourself the other day. You’d be just fine.”

“Is that a compliment?” You gasped, eyes widening comically.

He grunted.

“Please?” You asked softly, tilting your head.

While he didn’t exactly agree, he also didn’t say no, which was more than enough of an opening for you. Slowly stepping forward, you watched as he remained where he was on the bottom bunk, giving him a few seconds to change his mind if he decided to.

When Daryl sat his crossbow aside and remained seated, you came to a stop as he spread his knees enough to give you some room to stand between them. It was as close as you’d been to him since the car ride to Woodbury, and though you didn’t feel nervous, you made sure not to make any sudden movements, half expecting that he would come to his senses and bolt before you were able to do any good.

“You do this for your boyfriend?”

You looked down at him in surprise. “What?”

Daryl shrugged. “The one with the bike.”

You laughed, suddenly understanding. “Oh, so you think all bikers get into bar fights?”

“I know they do.”

Gently swiping the damp cloth across the gash in his cheek, you sighed. “Okay, you’re right — but no, I didn’t. Not for the fights he started anyway, which was basically all of them. If he was dumb enough to get himself into trouble, he could see to his own damn wounds.”

Daryl watched you closely as you applied the antiseptic to his cut yet didn’t so much as flinch.

“Had your fair share of bar fights, too?” You teased.

He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes finally looking away. You didn’t know if it was something you’d said, or maybe the medicine was starting to sting, but his sudden change in demeanor was hard to miss.

“Are you okay?” You asked, worried.

“The cut? It’s nothin’.”

“I’m not talking about the cut.”

Daryl’s eyes flickered back to study you, his tongue darting out to swipe beneath his top lip. He was about to make his reply when a familiar voice startled you both.

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?” Merle asked as he sauntered towards Daryl’s cell, the grin on his lips more than a little suggestive.

Shit.

Peeling away the adhesive to the bandage, you gently applied it to Daryl’s cheek before turning to face the eldest Dixon brother.

Merle was around average height, same as Daryl, and had the same broad chest and shoulders. They were built alike, but that was where the similarities ended, as far as you could see.

“These for me, sweetheart?” He asked, nodding toward the snacks that you’d left on Daryl’s mattress.

“Uh, yeah — yeah, they’re for you, and Daryl.” You clarified.

“Well, ain’t you sweeter than sugar.”

You busied yourself by putting the bottled water, antiseptic, and bandage wrappings back into your bag while Merle unceremoniously opened a bag of chips and shoved a handful into his mouth.

“Mm, mm, mmm!” He groaned as if he were experiencing pure bliss the second the salty treat touched his tongue. “These might just be better than sex.”

At Merle’s words, your eyes went straight to Daryl, but with his face turned away, you could just make out the slight flush of crimson that had appeared on his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“Know what I mean?” Merle winked at you.

Glancing at Merle, you shrugged. “Depends on the sex.”

Wait, what?

Had you really just said that out loud?

If a man had ever said anything like that to you before, you would’ve just ignored him. But in this situation, you’d only humored Merle’s lewd comment because of your interest in how Daryl would react.

You could feel the youngest Dixon’s gaze burning a hole into your head, but as soon as you brought your attention back to him, he became very interested in the snacks on his bed. It was cute, seeing how tough, gruff, Daryl Dixon became bashful at the mention of sex. He kept surprising you; proving that he was the opposite of his brother, and unlike any other man you’d ever met for that matter.

“Oho!” Merle guffawed. “That’s good. I like you, girly. I like you a lot.”

After a few seconds of silence, Daryl picked up his bag of Lays, looking it over. “Where’d ya find ‘em anyway?”

“There’s a second commissary not too far from here. Found these, too.” You pulled out a small box of gummy worms and shook them for emphasis. “Carl’s gonna freak.”

For a moment, you contemplated offering some to Daryl, but the idea of what might come out of Merle’s mouth next kept you from doing so. Dropping the box back into your bag, you readjusted the strap over your shoulder.

“Well, I better get going. Speaking of that little punk, he’s probably looking for me.” You smiled fondly.

Daryl nodded. “You sure ya know how to find your way back?”

While his concern for you was certainly flattering, and the idea of taking him up on an escort wasn’t unappealing, you weren’t sure what that would mean for Merle, and didn’t want to risk upsetting anyone if he tagged along.

“I’m good.” You nodded, taking your flashlight from your bag, and flicking it on and off for emphasis. “Someone spray painted arrows along the corridors, thank God.”

“Thank Glenn.” Daryl corrected you. “He did that.”

A disgruntled noise left Merle’s mouth, his lips curling up at the mention of their friend. Deciding that it was best to ignore him, the way you weren’t supposed to reward a toddler for bad behavior, you looked back over at Daryl, waving your hand.

“See you later?”

Daryl hummed in agreement.

“See ya soon, sugar.” Merle called after you with a smirk.

The Dixon brothers watched as you exited the cell and headed back the same way that you had entered. After a few seconds passed, Merle turned to face Daryl, a knowing grin spreading across his features.

“Damn, girl’s got an ass on her like a Georgia peach!” He exclaimed.

“Leave it alone, Merle.” Daryl warned.

“I’m just sayin’—”

“I said, leave it alone.”

“Oh shit. Is this girl it for you, baby brother? After all these years, someone finally caught your fickle eye? Thank Christ! For a while there I was thinkin’ you was a queer.”

“Shut the hell up, Merle!” Daryl stood up from his bunk. “It ain’t like that.”

“Oh, it ain’t? What’s it like then?” Merle took Daryl’s place on the bunk, moving his hands behind his head and leaning back against a pillow. “‘Cause if you ain’t gettin’ a piece of that, I might just—"

“Man, she’d never touch you!” Daryl snarled.

For a moment, nothing was said. Merle’s face went completely blank.

Then the son of a bitch smiled.

“Ain’t like that, huh?”

Daryl seethed, squaring his shoulders and pacing in a tight circle like a caged animal. He’d lived his whole life listening to Merle objectify women, and usually he could tune him out, but not now. Not when he was talking about you.

“Ya know, you’re right. That kinda girl — educated, uppity — she wouldn’t touch neither of us.”

“Whatever.” Daryl grunted, slapping his hand loudly against the bars of his cell before passing through the doorway and leaving Merle behind.

Merle watched as his baby brother made his exit; the smile on his lips growing impossibly wider. Over the years, he had partaken in many arguments with Daryl. They were brothers, after all – but he’d never seen his little brother this bent out of shape over a damn woman.

What the hell was it about this girl that had his brother so defensive?

What was so fucking special about you?

Whatever it was, Merle had every intention of finding out.

—

Taglist: @azanoni, @rickysgrimes, @are-y0u-sirius, @itsblueriddle, @siimiasoi, @hopefulatrocity, @dillie60, @darylsmavis, @starfirette, @nuhogom, @angel-winchester-dixon-mendes, @averyhockstetter, @chuckle-nuts, @bysamothrace, @beautifulharmonygoatee, @oceans-goddess, @ur-moms-sexy-af, @riripoyopoyo, @agnesxsp, @alovese, @ceoofdisappointment, @risingofjupiter, @ava2234563, @my-obsession-spn

[honey-minded-hivemind]

To hellborn and sinners. Fallen Angel! Is the scariest thing in Heck. They have the demonic powers of the first resident and ruler of Heck, the primordial powers of an ancient Angel, and the political power of a strong monarch. Reader could obliterate everyone in heck if so desired.

Luckily. Reader doesn't and is actually a pretty good ruler, so citizens respect the crap out of them.

The yans get to see that while getting a tour of Hell.

The adults, for once in their long lives, don't have any duties to attend to, so they just.. follow reader around. Reader figures they might as well attend to their societal and business duties while showing everyone around, since Pentagram City isn't the best first impression of Heck.

First they have a meeting with the Wrath's Farmer's Union. Everyone bows, curtsies, and kneels at reader and kisses their chubby little hand. They insist on calling them "Your Majesty" and other titles even when Reader tells them their name is just fine.

Then, they attend a show in Greed, where they are given a private box with the best view. Imps and succubi can be seen staring and snapping photos of Reader to post to Penstagram, bragging that everyone who bought the more expensive evening tickets missed out on watching the show with the Ruler of Heck themselves!

Lunch is in Gluttony, where Reader needs a booster seat to reach their food. While the yans coo and pinch their cheeks, the imp water politely says nothing and gets a giant tip.

The afternoon is spent checking up on the theme park Reader set up. The teens insist on riding every ride, and everyone is ecstatic to find they have a Build-a-Reader store in the park, where you can build a plush version of Reader and put cute little outfits of them. (Reader sheepishly admits the outfits are based off the ones in their closets and the girls now want a fashion show when they get home)

Everything is great until they have a meeting with the overlords in Pentagram City. The yans immediately notice Reader is on guard now.

The overlords are just so slimy! When the imps in wrath kissed their hand and kneeled, Reader helped them up and told them it was unnecessary. The overlords get a cold stare as they try to brownnose their way into Reader's favor, since they know they will never be as powerful. Having Reader as a potential ally is the next best thing!

The yans are glad when the meeting is over.

They're so relieved when Reader ends the meeting, quickly excusing themself and giving a quick praise of, "Good job, my dears, excellent work, now its back to the grind, isn't it, toodles~!"

The platonic yans don't think they've seen Reader move so fast or look so uncomfortable. This IS their realm, and so far everyone respects them, fears them, bows and shakes in awe and astonishment! But those overlords were so, so... slimy! Gross! Creepy! No wonder Reader wanted to leave as soon they entered the room!

The teens try to distract Reader by doing a fashion show, watching as Reader shows off their vast collection of ballgowns, tuxedos, business suits, sweaters, crop tops, bedazzled jeans, high heels, flats, tennis shoes, boots, gloves, earrings, necklaces, brooches, rings, anything and everything! The teens ooo and aah each time they see a new outfit, every time Reader flutters around or starts on their small catwalk. A few of the teens ask to get matching outfits with Reader, which leads to...

A SHOPPING SPREE!

And Reader goes all out!

The teens want a specific color of blouse? Dear tailor, please make one, please! There will be a handsome tip as well~! Oh, you like that particular sweater? Bodyguard, please get seven of them, all in a different color of the rainbow! Thank you, good boy/girl/being! Extra hugs for you! Someone wants to have a custom ring made? Aaaah, yes! We would like rubies, please, set in a gold band, in a little heart shape, and with their name engraved on the inside! Here's about... hmmm... will twenty-thousand gold coins with Reader's royal symbol cover the cost? No? Let's add a few hellfire diamonds and emeralds of envy to the pot, and that should cover any extra fees~!

By the time the teens and Reader are done, Reader is getting them all a whole dozen coffee drinks from Moondoes to top their trip off, and then they're heading back, riding in a bright red limo and eating a few pastries from Reader's favorite little shop!

The adults are... shocked, that Reader does so well. This is their little baby, their doll, and they're doing so well down here! They're so proud!!! And they're so worried! At least everyone, even the most unsavory individuals, know to respect Reader! As they should! They're one of the first seraphim! An angel of Heaven! Their pride and joy and jewel!

The teens are just glad Reader does so well for themself, and decide to roll with whatever happens. If Reader says they can go see a show, then they're going! If Reader wants to go out for dinner, okay, where? Reader wants to take a nap? Can they sleep with them, too? Pretty please? They're just so cute!!! Even their little Build-a-Reader's aren't quite enough compared to the real thing, even though they're beautiful and very well-made!

(They all got an outfit that matched one of Reader's. Not to mention they now are known as Reader's closest friends! Well, okay, their fallen angel friends! And with them around, they're gonna have the best time ever!) (They can just never, ever, never ever ever, go to the Lust Ring. Because Reader said so-)

[jeffcbliss]

Steven Tyler of Aerosmith - Dolby Live/Park MGM; Las Vegas, NV. (9-17-22). @Aerosmith @IamStevenT

Photo: Jeff Bliss

[bananaboisgroup]

DAY 1, Freedom. @vanweek2024

Gregory paces around the atrium before eyeing his destination. Racing towards Fazer blast, Gregory, sprinting a little too fast, trips over his shoelaces, alerting Roxy of his location. He dashed through the neon lit corners, Jumping over the dividers, running towards the secret door. He dashed past the corner, sweeping into the steam tunnels. "YOU THINK YOU CAN OUTRUN ME?!" Yelled Roxy as Gregory sprinted over to a cart, hiding him. Roxy looks for him, pummeling a security bot and ripping off it's skull. "Come out, come out wherever you are..." "Shit, shit!" Gregory whispered. She walked right past the hiding spot, complaining about her hair being ruined. He paces forward, and peeks at Roxy, but she hears his breathing. Roxy growls before lunging at him, but missing by afar. she crashes into the power box, shutting down all the lights of fazer blast. "Heheheee..." Says a familiar voice, standing behind Gregory. He freezes in place, and hears a chainsaw start up. He runs as fast as his little legs can take him, before being apprehended by the map bot. "Map. Map. Map." "Oh will you shut up?" Gregory says before shoving it over. He then reaches the staircase leading up to her hideout. He sprints along the catwalks, and enters the room. He sees a picture of Vanessa standing with a figure, their side of the picture stabbed with a knife. He then spots the princess quest 3 cabinet, and Gregory remembers. That's where it resides. that's how it took over everything. He ran over to the cabinet, And jammed in a quarter. He began to play through the game as normal, but then... he encountered a purple key. He then returns to the pirate's cove area, then opens the door. He finds a door, a gray one with a green lock. He uses the key, and opens the door. The screen displays an error message. He looks out the window, and sees a mask on the ground, along with a costume and a chainsaw. The nightmare bots are also powered off. He did it. He saved her from it. He saved it from himself. He heard a familiar voice call from the exit. "You coming or not, squirt?" Gregory's headache stopped, his muscles stopped tensing, his breathing turned slower. "Sure..." He said, shrugging it off, trying to force himself to forget everything that happened. "I know it's hard, but you're free now. Get a breath of fresh air. Feel free to feel alive." A tear slipped from Gregory's eye. "I'm finally released from the shackles." "I don't have to listen to him anymore." "I am alive." His smile widened. "This can't be real." "I-" He said, holding back tears. "he's gone. That's all that matters."

A side note- Feel free to comment with constructive criticism, cuz I'm not good with writing prompts and I want to improve :D

[es46]

Muse: Character facets in BW3

- I wanted to compile some other muses on the concept of a BW3, namely on where some characters are and current motivation/past experiences, set around eight years after BW2. - -Crispin recently graduated from the academy, and his first move was to head to Striaton and enroll as a gym trainer/apprentice chef under Chili. Chili and his brothers Cress and Cilan have invested in individul restaurants offering different culinary experiences, aiming to differentiate themselves and stoke some friendly competition. Their original restaurant is now conjoined with the trainer school. Crispin is glad to introduce Paldean recipes, and he's enjoying cooking and battling, but he must confess it's harder to keep up with Lacey nowadays. -A year after graduating, Lacey has settled into a new role as Driftveil's Gym Leader. Clay has remade it into a fairy paradise, and Lacey's made a strong impression as a challenging proprietar of double battles. She makes sure to find time to visit Ingo and Emmet in Anville. Her next challenge is to establish a second career, but Lacey is struggling. She doesn't have Clay's industrial moxie or her mother Pumice's knack for entertainment management. Lacey isn't willing to be dependant on her parent's wealth, but how can she distinguish herself? A trip to Kalos with Skyla and Elesa proved to be the key. Lacey was introduced to a fashion designer named Valerie, a gym leader and fairy enthusiast. Inspired by Valerie's eccentric vision, Lacey returned to Unova emboldened and has taken an apprenticeship in fashion, striving to craft the cutest brand imaginable. -Ingo and Emmet reside in Anville Town, the former readjusting to modern civilisation since his reappearance one year ago while the latter has retired from the Battle Subway. The twins contribute to maintaining Anville's turntable and trains while working at the new train museum set up by Pumice. They enjoy the calm and quiet, advising Lacey and Drayton when possible. -Since graduating, Amarys has spent time in Nacrene supporting her parents Lenora and Hawes. Now she's resumed her role as student president in Castelia, enrolling under Burgh's new class of artistry and battle. Proving meticulous in both, Amarys has joined the privileged rank of those worthy contenders for potentially succeeding Burgh as Castelia's gym leader. -Having finally left the academy, Drayton returned to Opulecid, where he found Drayden had retired and moved to Anville, leaving Drayton's mother as mayor. Drayton was expected to step up as Opulecid's gym leader, but first he would reconcile with Drayden. At Anville, helped by Ingo and Emmet, Drayton and Drayden finally admit that neither of them handled the failed years well and apologise for their arguments. -Skyla and Elesa collaborated Mistralton's air cargo services with Nimbasa's advertising agencies, generating revenue to fuel Elesa's ambitions. She strove to join the Elite Four and expand Unova's entertainment influence. For a time, Skyla hung up her mantle as gym leader/pilot to join Elesa on the catwalk promoting Nimbasa's vision. Contention arose when Skyla grew dissatisfied with modelling, concerned that Mistralton would be gentrified following expansions to the airport Realizing she's been pushing too hard, Elesa eased back on her ambitions while Skyla resumed her role as Mistralton's gym leader, taking a new job in air traffic management. The two eventually married following Elesa's successful initiation into the Elite Four. -Roxie, now famous across Unova, stirred the pot a bit when she expressed some romantic interest in Cheren (still tutoring at Aspertia). He's quite flustered, since he's still nursing affection for Bianca (currently monitoring introduction of Paldean species to Unova), who likewise has feelings for him. Then Roxie expressed some romantic interest in Bianca for another stir. While those two sort themselves out, Roxie's content to work on new music inspired by the shenanigans, satisfied with either a relationship or finally getting those two to admit to each other.

[chapterbychapterstories]

Hero x Villain

This is part of a larger story. Here is the link to Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Sewer water rushed around them as the Villains made it to the end. An open grate that poured the water down into large smelly pools of filth. Undercrust layer 50. The trio took the maintenance ladder down to the catwalks that led all over the city. 

People knew better than to push and shove. Sure the catwalks were crowded, but the streets were flooded with crap, literally, so you just moved with the flow, keeping an eye out for the bridge that led to your destination. The patched up rope bridge soon came into view. Built out of anything they could get a hold of, it had metal, wood, plastic, and even a particularly dangerous rubber patch. Tele led them over it, using their power to ensure they didn’t fall. 

The sketchy bridge led to a patch work building, a neon sign above spelled out “Bar Keeps Tavern” which to the three was home. Metal clanged together as Tele pushed open the door. “Welcome!” A large man popped up from behind the bar. His shaggy black and white hair draped over his eyes. “Children! Welcome back! How was the Uppercrust? Did you do anything fun?” He also talked a lot.

“Hey Keeper, the Uppercrust was bright, we had a ton of fun, and made good use of all those bombs.” Tele could also talk a lot.

“Good good, good to have you all back. More Drones around lately, it puts me on edge when you all are away. Drones make bad customers, but they always pay so it’s not so bad.”

“The Drones came in for a drink?” WC took her usual seat on the bar. 

“They’ve come in twice now. Weren’t very talkative.”

WC glances a Tele, “Well Keep if they come in again close up. They aren’t the kind we want hanging around.”

“Right, that’s a good idea. Thanks Wixie.” 

She jumped off the counter, going to the trap door that led to their hideout. “Anytime Keep.” The trap door was light, made out of some metal they salvaged. Down a couple steps, and a narrow tunnel, they found themselves in a large room. A table with maps of the Uppercrust, held down by a dud bomb, and a metal arm. Against the far wall was a fan that blew a cool breeze through the room and out the other side. It also brought the smell inside. Rot and crap, the smell of layer 50. 

Tele dropped their bag on the floor, heading for their hammock. “Home sweet, smelly home.” They collapsed into the makeshift bed causing the wall to groan. 

“I wonder how they picked the heroes.” Barrier leaned over the table tracing the route we took to the Queen’s mansion. 

“Through careful evaluation and training that killed a few ‘subjects’. Not that it matters, we need to plan how we are going to take down the Hero Program.” WC stood across the table from him. 

A remote hovered in the air in front of WC. “Oh, that reminds me!” Tele sat up in their  hammock, sitting in it like a swing. They had to be using their powers because if WC tried sitting in it like that she’d fall over. “I wanted to see if we made it in the nightly report.”

The remote clicked, a whirring noise came from a small projector above. A flicker, then a projected image of the nightly report came up on the wall behind her. She turned to see a grainy image of herself shooting a laser pistol at Flight. 

“Eeeeeeee!” Tele squealed. “Look, we’re celebrities!”

The video cut right after WC pulled out her sword, a stiff looking woman came on. “That video was taken earilier today by a Queen’s hover Drone outside her personal residence. Two of the Villains have been identified as 04061327096 codename Telekinesis,” an even blurrier  image of Tele came up, “ and 10011327056 codename Barrier-”

“Ah! Bair bair look, we’re famous.” Tele was jumping in their seat.

 “The unnatural one has yet to be identified. All three are said to be armed and dangerous. Any information on these villains must be reported to the Hero Program immediately.”

“Awe, WC they didn’t recognize you.” Tele slumped back into the hammock.

“That’s because I finally got all that junk they put into my hair and eyes out.”

“Yeah, stupid of them now they don’t know what you look like.”

“It also means they don’t know my power yet.”

“Well, now that we are celebrities I’m sure more people will follow us. Soon we will have the whole Undercrust fighting with us. Tonight I vote we eat and sleep.” A pack of food rations floated up from their stockpile, into Tele’s lap.

Barrier glanced at WC before grabbing a ration pack for himself, and settling into the hammock under Tele. “I, uh - I second that.”

This is why they couldn’t vote on anything. “Ugh, fine.” WC grabbed a ration pack for herself. “But tomorrow we plot the destruction of an empire.” She settled into a dingy couch. 

Above them in the bar Keep spoke with a few customers that came in, walking back and forth to serve drink orders. And just like a lullaby it puts her to sleep

[taleweaver-ramblings]

D&D Story: So it's been a Day

So, last time I posted about the D&D campaign I play in, Rise of the Shadowmaster, my party had just killed one of our long-time nemeses, Ralak Shas, a rakshasa who'd decided he had it out for our group after we messed with his plans one too many times.

That was a month ago, real time. In that time, we have managed to progress exactly one and one-half days, and storms has this been a wild two days for my character.

Obviously it started with a victory (Ralak Shas is dead!). Then, after a quick chat with my character's dad, we used our last teleport to shift to the magic college where my character's brother had asked her to meet him. There, we were met not by my character's brother but by one of her stepsisters, who was very clearly trying to separate me from the rest of my party and sending me off to a cafe in town.

(Cue concern.jpg)

Because it's my sister, we went along with it. I headed to the cafe, where I met with my character's brother (in disguise), who informed me that, yes, Ralak-Shas is dead . . . but he'd been lining up a hit on at least some of my family members, possibly all of them. (This is no small undertaking; my character has a HUGE blended family — four full siblings, three stepsiblings, and five half-siblings, plus two living parents.) The one hit he was certain of was targeting two of my stepsisters (twins) who were attending this college, and he'd called me and my party in for backup. After informing me of everything he knew and warning me of the need to be subtle (as an obvious counter-move in one location could set off attacks elsewhere), we went our separate ways. And in my party's defense, we did a reasonably good job of being subtle . . .

Until our rogue got caught sneaking into the probable assassins' apartments, stabbed a guy in defense, stuffed the guy in a bag of holding, and got seen leaving the premises in a hurry.

(Cue panic.jpg)

While my character's brother went to run damage control with the local law enforcement, our party jumped into action to find and guard my stepsisters (and also to warn the rest of my family, via Sending, that an attack might be imminent). We found one without a problem (thanks to the magic of sending stones), but finding the other was more difficult. Eventually, we (with the help of local law enforcement) realized she was probably at the theater — and, sure enough, when we arrived we found the assassins in place on the theater catwalks and lining up their shots. One swift and effective battle later, most of them were dead, except for the annoying pirate-adjacent tabaxi who once again managed to save on a death throw and run away while we weren't looking (after I pushed him off a catwalk). We cleaned up those that escaped in an ambush later when they tried to skip town, having found out that the tabaxi was in a soul-contract with Ralak-Shas to try to kill my stepsisters.

(For some reason, our sorcerer thought I was going to panic about this. I was not particularly panicked. I already knew he needed to die, and that if it came to it, I could kill him with a clean conscience, and that is, in fact, exactly what I did.)

So. That was one day. Next morning: I receive a message from my character's oldest brother that the pass that he and his wife are currently helping to guard was attacked by a dragon and a goblin army, and that there were casualties but he and his wife weren't among them. This is a relief; they're probably my character's favorite siblings. We're also reasonably certain that my character's dad and sister at the military outpost are ok — they've capable adventures, they've been warned there might still be a threat, and they're surrounded by warriors and paladins and clerics.

We only have one teleport at this point, but our cleric suggests we try a shortcut through the Shadowfell, the residence of his deity — with whom he has a much closer relationship than the average cleric does, seeing as he's technically dead and only came back to the material plane to help us out. (Long story.) One brief bit of negotiation and an offer to put in a good word for this deity with some of the others later and we found ourselves zapped across the Shadowfell to the location of a shadow-portal into my character's home.

(In the process, we also learned that this deity is, in fact, married to the goddess my character serves. This was of much interest to both me and my character, but also very disappointing to our ranger, who kiiiiiinda had a crush on him, not that she'd ever admit it. Out of character, I'm also absolutely DELIGHTED to have seen how a particular bit of lore I gave my DM actually worked out — background, when he was setting up the world, he gave me permission to make up the deity or deities my character served, so I knew my character's goddess was married before she ascended, but I didn't know what had happened after she ascended.)

Anyway, we found the main part of my family still safe and unattacked, and we actually had a pretty uneventful day of keeping an eye on them and checking on things in town . . . until dinnertime came, and my character's mom said "Let's not discuss any of what's been going on and just enjoy each other's company."

(Cue trouble.jpg)

There's a knock on the door. One of my character's sister's adventurer-friends (who's been helping watch out for my character's family) walks in with an official messenger. The messenger asks my character's stepmother to come receive an important, sensitive message. My character, her stepmother, and her sister, come with the messenger. At this point, in and out of character, I have a suspicion of what's coming, and I'm mentally rolling the dice; either this messenger is an assassin, or my character's dad is dead or captured, or my character's sister is dead or captured.

It's my character's dad.

He's dead.

And just as we get that news, we hear the door shatter downstairs, just like I feared, because Ralak Shas's final attack has come.

~~~~~

So, yeah. Next session is going to be wild. And I do not know how my character is going to take this once the battle is over. A lot of it will depend on whether or not any of her younger siblings get hurt. Losing any of her younger siblings — the youngest of which is barely out of toddler-hood — would wreck her. Losing multiple might actually break her.

Losing her dad . . .

On one hand, her relationship with her father has always been a little rocky. He had an idea of who he wanted her to be — an adventurer, a hero, just like he had been — that didn't match what she wanted. They'd fought about many a time. Even once they reached a compromise, she still harbored some bad feelings towards him.

But he's her father. And family is everything to my character. It doesn't matter if she likes them; she loves them just the same. She would die for any of them.

She didn't even have the chance to try.

So, yeah. I don't know if this is going to motivate her to keep adventuring even more — to carry out her father's wishes to a point where she feels he would have been undoubtedly happy with her — or if she'll stop because she no longer needs to please him or if she'll feel unmoored now that she no longer has the steadying tension of their relationship. I don't know if she'll feel she needs to stay home to care for her family, or if she'll feel that there's nothing she can do but keep on with her original mission (and at least saving the world means she doesn't have to deal with her grief for a while). I don't know if she'll be sad or relieved or both at once.

She might not even believe he's dead at first. Who can say if the messenger was telling the truth? With the timing of the message, it might have been a trick.

I do know that if her dad is the only one who dies, and if he is dead in truth, her first thought isn't going to be grief. Her first thought is going to be can I bring him back? She knows there are clerics who can Raise Dead, and she has the money and diamonds to afford it. She'll gladly pay it if it means her younger siblings don't have to grow up without a father.

If the answer is no, though . . . well. I guess we'll see what happens.

[uraniumnm333]

some wxs covers i would kill maim and die for:

magical girl and chocolate - my resident girl thing emu ootori and nene + luka

far away (by hiiragikirai) ruiemu duet

color and electricity ruinene

carnival happy w all of em

skeleton orchestra and lila ruikasa

this fucked up wonderful world exists for me emukasa + rin

overdrive dance club (give them some techno sega please) wxs

glitch hero nene

game of life ruinene

noisy crazy girl (cosmo) emu

mental chainsaw - nenekasa

envy catwalk wxs + kaito

kick ass*literally nenekasa + rin n len

hate it hate it huge ego nenekasa

yona yona dance (PLEASE PLSPLSPLSPLS) wxs

ayano's theory of happiness (tsukasa centric pleeeease)

outsider (the one by eve) - wxs + len

[astra-galaxie]

"All I wanted was to be loved for myself!" - Helena Simmer

Biographical information

Full Name: Helena Simmer

Alias(es): Hazbin Helena

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Status: Incarcerated

Age: 58 (season 4)

Birth: 1832

Race: Human

Nationality: American

Origin: New York, USA

Residence:

Concordia, USA

New York, USA (formerly)

Profession(s): Head Conductor

Family: Hannah Simmer (descendant) (incarcerated)

Affiliation(s): The Concordia Odeon

Profile

Height: 5'2"

Age: 58 (season 4)

Weight: 145lbs

Eyes: black

Blood: A+

Helena is a short woman with dark eyes and short black hair. She wears a plain black, floor-length skirt with a white dress shirt tucked into the waist. Over the shirt is a black tailcoat jacket, and white gloves cover both of her hands. During her suspect appearance in Curtain Kill, she wears a white mask covering the right side of her face with a black floral pattern painted on it.

As per her suspect appearance in Curtain Kill, it is known that Helena plays a string instrument (she plays the cello), knows La Traviata, and drinks wine.

Synopsis

Helena was the killer in Curtain Kill. She was the head conductor for The Concordia Odeon and was going to be conducting the show for Mr. Alastor's final party. However, had she known that Viviana Tosca was the singer hired for the event, she would have refused the offer even though it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She couldn't stand that woman after she nearly ruined her career and swore if she ever saw Viviana again, she would get her revenge.

Since she couldn't back out of conducting the show, Helena decided to look on the bright side—the bright side being that this was the perfect time for her to kill Viviana! It took some planning and sneaking around, but Helena managed to hoist the theatre's grand piano onto the catwalk so it hung above the spot where Viviana would stand. After ensuring no one would tamper with the setup, Helena waited for Viviana to take her final position on stage. When the singer was in place, Helena cut the ropes, and the piano crashed to the floor as intended, crushing Viviana to death.

With the murder a success, Helena assumed no one would be able to connect the murder to her. But she didn't factor into her plan that the Flying Squad would attend the party. So, even though she succeeded in killing Viviana, Helena could not escape justice. She was arrested and convicted for her crimes but does not regret ridding the world of that snake who dared step on her stage again!

Story Information

First appeared: Curtain Kill

Trivia

Helena composed several original orchestra pieces. She even continued composing while in prison

If she lived during the current timeline, Broadway musicals would have been one of her favourite genres

Her primary instrument is the piano, but she knows how to play several classical instruments as well

She was an actress in plays when she was a child/teenager. It was what started her love of theatre

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames ! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad) Murders of The Past (Ao3/Wattpad)