#Parade Of Lasers

[killer-beekeeper]

hoping to finish this playthrough today

[gauntletqueen]

So...what powers do queer people have during pride month? Is it specific to each gender & sexuality? Do pronouns determine your stats, if so can I re-roll? WHAT BUFFS DO I GET AT PRIDE PARADES??? I NEED ANSWERS AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

It's not based on gender, sexuality, pronouns, or anything like that. It's totally based on each individual's identity! Your powers must be discovered by yourself!

We do also all get power of Kill Bigot Without Repercussion so get out there and use your laser eyes or whtever 👍👍👍

[gay-dorito-dust]

can you write atsv characters reacting to a masc or Gn reader being super motherly/fatherly to a kitten? Just romantic stuff no smut

Miles Morales felt the beginnings of a smile stretch across his lips when he caught you helping the kitten dip their paws into some paint and then letting them parade about the canvas, leaving colourful paw prints in their wake with a variety of colours that meshed well despite their opposing components.

(He secretly thanks that it ain’t acrylic paint cuz that’s a bastard to get out, trust me.)

It made his heart swell at the wholesome sight that he couldn’t help but join in on the fun by drawing about the paw prints, making adjustments so that they’d look like a portrait of a field of unique paw shaped flowers, whilst adding his own flair of art style by sketching out the sky before bringing out the marker pens and colouring pencils that he had laying about.

Bonus if he has some music playing in the background because it means you and the little kitten get a private concert when Miles starts singing the lyrics under his breath as he’s taken away to his happy place. You loved getting to see his art in process as you got to appreciate the dedication he puts into each of his works and it brought an even bigger smile to his face when the brown kitten would try to follow the lines of his pencil as though it were a laser; so much so that the finished product was made of lines that stopped and started elsewhere but Miles was talented enough to make it into a work of art worth having in a museum somewhere.

‘Watch out Miles, you’re not the only artist in this family anymore.’ You teased as you both watched as the kitten dipped their paws back into some paint and walking across the bottom of the canvas so it would look as those some of the petals of the flowers had wilted off. ‘He takes after me, don’t you little man?’ Miles says as he puts a hand out -palm up- for the kitten, uncaring that there’d be a smeared purple paw print there afterwards, he was use to getting a little messy. You chuckled at the interaction, ‘so does that mean I’ll be expecting frequent collaborations between you two in the nearby future?’ He shrugs but before he could open his mouth, the brown kitten mewled at you both, making you look at him as he sat next to the canvas that looked to be filled with more colourful white paw prints that doted the sky like stars, ‘that’s to be discussed.’ Miles tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before picking up the kitten to wash his paws whilst you put the canvas somewhere safe to dry.

Pavitr Prabhakar felt as though he could die of cuteness overload when he caught you and the kitten you both had rescued engaging in a multitude of playful games; one of which being based off is something you’ve noticed that the kitten would do whenever you disappeared from it’s sight, where it would then mewl loudly, only stopping when you gave in and poked your head out from the doorway as though it did nothing. So now and then you or Pav would purposefully hide yourselves from the kitten and wait until it either starts mewling or looks for you both themselves; then and only then would you reveal yourselves before repeating the process to see whether or not the kitten had gotten closer then last time.

Another thing you liked to do with the kitten was have them in your lap as you lightly tickled their tummy before pulling away as the kitten imitated your movements by stretching their paws above their head before you proceeded to tickle their stomachs some more and repeating the process; each time dying at how cute your little kitten was that you couldn’t help but cover them in a flurry of tiny kisses against their fur.

You didn’t acknowledge Pavitr until you heard the sound of a photo being taken which was when your head whipped in the direction the sound came from, only to spot Pav with his phone in hand. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ You asked him as the kitten had started to drift to sleep in your lap, leeching off of your warmth. ‘Long enough to capture a photo of my two beloveds and make it my Lock Screen.’ He responded as he turned his phone to show you the picture he had taken and needless to say his photography skills were phenomenal; the picture has captured the moment beautifully and the way the light from a nearby window beaming down onto you and the kitten, silhouetting you both somewhat, as you smiled down at the kitten with an abundance of love and affection in your eyes as the kitten looked to have reciprocated those feelings by looking up at you in an admirable way.

‘It’s a beautiful picture but it’s missing something.’ You tell him.

Pavitr makes a face as he sits down next to you, where the kitten then shifted from your lap to his, purring in content as he ran his fingers over the kittens fur. ‘What would that be?’

‘You.’ You said blatantly as you grabbed his phone from him and took another picture but this time with all three of you; that picture picture quickly became Pavitr’s favourite as it took over as his new screen lock that he loves to look at whenever he felt down or needed a reminder of what he’s got waiting for him after the day was over. The life of being Spider-Man was hectic but it was made all the more worth it when he got to experience moments where it was just you, him and your little fur baby.

Miles, gwen and Hobie would have these types of photos shoved in their face whenever they meet up, but they didn’t mind as it was a sight to see Pavitr beaming as brightly as he did when you or the kitten were brought into the conversation. He’s a proud cat dad with a whole album dedicated to capturing the kitten within every moment of it’s life.

Gwen Stacy stood at the doorway, watching with slight amusement as you set up a makeshift bed for the kitten -a russian blue, you later found out- that was drifting fast asleep on your pillow. Gwen wasn’t that partial to keeping the kitten, mainly because in due to the amount of commitment you’d both have to put in to raising them, but it seemed as though you were more then willing to put in the work as the moment you both found the poor thing seeking shelter underneath a parked car after Gwen heard it’s mewls for help.

You personally made sure that the kitten was being fed, hydrated, bathed, and just overall taken care of while she looked for a good family that would properly take care of Blue; a name you had only just recently picked out after a week of temporarily housing the kitten. However it seemed as though overtime your bond with Blue had deepened significantly to the point where most of the spare space you had became play areas for your newest addition. ‘They seemed to have made themselves quite content there don’t you think.’ Gwen points out and you couldn’t help but internally coo at content Blue looked upon your bed and how their entire body was almost submerged within your bedding, you didn’t have the heart to move them in fear of disrupting their sleep.

‘Yeah, seems as though they have, cheeky little bugger.’ You said fondly as you moved away from what was originally going to be the designated place for Blue’s bed and knelt by the side of your bed, lightly running your fingers through Blue’s soft fur as a soft smile beamed across your face at their comfortability to be vulnerable in front of you and Gwen. ‘You love them don’t you?’ She asked as she moved into the room and knelt beside you and resting her head against your shoulder, having watched you build a trust bond with this kitten made her rethink her whole ideology on have a pet, that if she did find a proper home for Blue. She doesn’t think she could handle seeing how heartbroken you’d be in having to give up the kitten you’ve spent countless hours and sleepless nights raising as though they were your own; which was why she had stopped looking entirely weeks ago but never told you.

You rested your head atop of Gwen’s as you sighed, ‘of course I do,’ you tell her, ‘as tiering as raising this little primadona was, it was all worth it.’

‘Then it’s settled then.’ She tells you and you looked at her in confusion. ‘We’re keeping the kitten and besides,’ she shrugs, ‘I couldn’t find a suitable home for them and you’re both too adorable to split apart.’ Upon hearing this your eyes brightened, ‘does that mean we’re cat parents now.’ You whispered excitedly to Gwen as she could could only smile back from how infectious your happiness was and how she was happy in being the one to bring that happiness out of you, knowing firsthand how deeply you loved Blue and now she wanted to be apart of that too. ‘Yes y/n, we’re cat parents now.’ Gwen agreed as she looked at Blue as they slept. ‘Welcome to the family Blue Stacy.’

Hobie Brown could tell there was a change in your demeanour when you returned home, completely drenched and with your jacket bundled in your arms as though you were crawling something; It also didn’t help that it had been raining for the past week.

‘Are you mad?’ Was the first thing he asked and you shrugged, knowing he was more worried then he was upset, ‘I’d like to think that I’m mentally sound.’ You replied without a hitch. Hobie sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant against the wall. ‘Would you at least tell me what’s so important that you had to take your jacket off, whilst in the rain no less.’ Before you could speak, your bundled up jacket moved in your arms restlessly until you eventually unraveled it to reveal a scruffy looking kitten with dirty brown fur.

Hobie should’ve known that you went out of your way to make sure that the kitten was kept out of the rain, even if it resulted in you catching a cold the next day from doing so but he knew you’d do it again in a heartbeat; It was in your nature to uplift others into your arms. If anything pissed him off, it would have to be the fact that many people only viewed pets as an accessory they could shop for whenever rather then the lifelong companions that they were; he hated it even more when those same people abandon them out on days like these, despite knowing damn well that they wouldn’t survive.

‘Now before you say anything, I found this little guy in a alleyway in a cardboard box that was soaked and rotting, I couldn’t leave him there Hobie, the poor guy was too weak that I could nearly hear him meow.’ You let the kitten down gently onto the floor where it then proceeded to run towards Hobie, looking up at him defiantly. Hobie couldn’t help but chuckle as he knelt to floor, holding his hand out -palm up- which the kitten then proceeded to sniff and upon deciding neither him nor you were threats, the orange tabby then allowed for Hobie to pick him up.

‘I like the fire in this one’s eyes,’ he tells you as he began to stroke the tabby’s fur as it purred, ‘though we do have to give him a wash soon before we do anything else but I’m sure I can find something to make a collar out of.’ You gasped, running up to him and the tabby in his arms, ‘you hear that little buddy,’ the kitten only blearily blinked at you in response, ‘you’re staying.’ You whispered, gingerly scooping them out of Hobie’s arms, lost in the plans you had in store as you wandered off to prepare a bath, leaving Hobie to watch on with an amused look upon his face; brainstorming his own plans with the little tabby that looked at him from over your shoulder in a desperate plea for help.

Yeah, he loves his little anarchist family already.

[munsonthings86]

hello, can I request a Steve Harrington fic where r working too hard for school and has been pulling all nighters frequently to keep track. R ends up being too tired and falling a little sick and not leaving the house except for when she has to go to school and her friends notice, Steve notices. Steve comes over, tries to help her and something along those lines. You can write it however you want, you can change it up if you want. Thank you :)

thank you for the request! tweaked it just a tiny bit, hope you enjoy :)

contains: cursing, fluff, overworked reader, soft!steve harrington, forgotten date, 1.0k words

School. Study. "Sleep". It was an endless, mind-numbing cycle that you were convinced was spiraling you into borderline madness. The condition of your bedroom was identical to how your brain had been feeling for the past week: cluttered and chaotic. With empty coffee cups littering your small floral desk, and your blush duvet covering more of the carpeted floor than your actual bed, you could hardly even recognize the room anymore.

The dirty laundry strewn across your floor would often trip you when you walked, but the assignments that you were practically drowning in made it impossible to shift your focus onto tidying the place.

You'd become a hermit; only leaving the comfort of your home to go to school and occasionally, the library, on the days that your room felt like more of a prison than a place of rest. Robin and Nancy, along with your boyfriend Steve, were certain you were avoiding them like the plague. They'd beg you to hangout with them, even bribing you by offering to treat you to lunch at the local diner, but the only thing you could say in return was a dry, "maybe later".

You didn't mean to be cold to them, but you were laser-focused on your agenda, determined to work first and play later. It's what led you to where you were now: head buried in your third textbook of the night, butt aching from being sat on your wooden chair for far too long.

On a Friday night of all.

From your window, you heard people, around your age you assumed, parading the streets and laughing loudly– enjoying their simple, young lives. Something you wished you could be doing too. But your work wasn't going to do itself.

You were color-coding the notes on your flashcard when three knocks sounded at your door, to which you mumbled a soft, "Come in," that even you barely heard. Your mother walked in, a mess of flour and an assortment of seasonings splotched on her apron from cooking dinner. "Honey, Steve's here," she smiled softly, though it was evident on her face that she was biting back the urge to tell you to clean your room, bless her.

The yellow highlighter you had was soon forgotten as your eyebrows furrowed, wondering what Steve was doing here. He usually called first.

Steve gave her a sweet grin when he passed her, leaving the door slightly cracked open, per your mothers request. In his hands he held a large box of pizza and a bouquet of pink roses; looking as dashing as ever with a crewneck and blue jeans adorning his body, with his hair being the perfect kind of messy.

You can't help but smile when you see him.

"Well, this is a rare sighting," he laughed, referring to you, "Should probably get this on camera." He kicked his white sneakers off where your own shoes were piled at, setting the pizza box down on your dresser.

"Very funny," you deadpanned, arms crossed on top of your chest. "What're you doing here?"

Steve approached you, something like a frown weighing on his lips. He taps the bouquet against his chest a couple times when he gently reminds you, "It's Friday."

You almost want to reach into your own body to catch your heart when you feel it completely sink. Friday's were you and Steve's designated date nights, never missing one since the two of you began dating a couple months ago. With the way you'd been so stressed and busy lately, it had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly, you felt incredibly guilty.

"Fuck," your head fell into your hands as you rubbed at your tired eyes, harshly. Your words were muffled when you continued, "I'm sorry, I'm the worst."

Steve shook his head almost instantly, gently resting the flowers down on the desk next to you. "Hey, c'mon," he started, moving your hands from your face, standing you up in front of him. "It's okay, I know you've been busy lately."

He rubbed at your shoulders tenderly and the warm touch melted you. It was the first time you truly relaxed that whole week. "You're not mad?" You asked the question in a hushed tone, looking up at him with glittering eyes that were a bit red, your nose a similar hue. You must've been getting sick. His poor baby.

"Not even a little," he gazed at you with heated, sincere brown eyes and you couldn't will yourself to look at anything else. He kissed your forehead, and it's a bit salty with sweat, but he doesn't mind. "Just worried, is all," he murmured, adjusting the pendant on your necklace that had somehow found its way onto your back.

"Can I help at all?" He nodded at the books on your table.

"Steve, no offense but it's AP Calc," you smiled, lightly scratching at his scalp when your arms found their way around his neck. You laughed when his eyebrows raised as if he was startled, slightly shaking his head. "Christ," he says through clenched teeth, though he doubles down on his offer, "well, then I guess I'm learning AP Calc today. No biggie," he shrugs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"You don't have to do that, Stevie," you spoke against his lips, admiring how unbelievably sweet your boyfriend was. You knew how much he hated school, especially math, so you were more than grateful that he was willing to put himself through quite literal torture, just to make your night a bit easier. "But I want to," he kissed your nose. "Dinner first though, 'cause I know you skipped out on lunch."

Squinting your eyes, you released your hold on him. Sometimes it scared you how well he knew you. "How-?"

"I have eyes everywhere, love," he answered your question before you could even get it out. You rolled your eyes, a smile playing at your lips, already knowing that his "eyes" in question were just Robin and Nancy looking out for you.

💌 1 new message from jojo: writing this while procrastinating on like ten assignments was so funny lol. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! inbox is open!

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed Pt. 2

Warnings: siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, Homelander being a stalker, innocent reader, naive reader, Homelander being a basic menace, some uncomfortable parts, dubcon, secrets, manipulation, grooming (feel like that's what Homelander is doing), age gap, power imbalance, there will be one more part after this then i think i'm gonna wrap up this little story

Words: 3472

Summary: Starlight unravels the secrets which Homelander and Vought so desperately wanted to keep in the dark.

Part 1

Annie was still reeling from the events of yesterday. She'd barely stepped foot into her apartment before a Vought assistant was scrambling to reach her. They inform Annie about the dinner being held that night to introduce a Seven-Trainee. This only further raised the hairs of alarm on the back of her neck.

Worst of all was that you nor anyone else saw a problem with this. Maeve wore her mask well and kept her thoughts to herself though their conversation was till fresh. Maeve really wanted to ignore how odd it was.

Maeve rose her glass with everyone else, a smile plastered across her face. And you, you were beyond happy; unaware of the wolf that paraded beside you. Annie could barely stomach her meal, forcing down bits of lamb but the richness of it soured immediately on her tongue.

Thankfully once everyone seemed to finish, the group parted ways with you and Homelander walking away together side by side.

That night was hard to sleep, even after calling Hughie and telling him all about it. He'd said that him and the Boys would look into it. See what they could find on you. That did help enough to lull Annie to sleep.

Reality was there in the Seven's conference room though, cheerfully beaming up at Annie.

"Good morning Starlight!" You chirp, the mug in your hand is put down forgotten by her entrance. Homelander is taking slow sips of his coffee, watching their interaction like a hawk. Annie didn't have to look at him to know that. She could feel the drilling of his piercing blue eyes. The eyes of a sociopath.

She puts on her best face, similar to the ones she wore when meeting fans. "How was your first night in the Tower?"

"It was great!" Really, it had been a great night. Probably the best one in your life. After the delicious dinner Homelander took you out around the city, giving you an aerial tour. Then he got ice cream for the two of you to enjoy back on Vought Tower's roof. You listened to the urban music it made at night. Honking of cars, sizzling of food, the chatter of people; the city was so alive. Your nights at home were spent quietly.

The warmth that Homelander made you feel took you by surprise. From the moment he showed up at your house, you felt an immediate connection. Like the two of you meeting was fated, written in the stars. In a short amount of time, Homelander had embedded himself in you. Last night all you could think about was spending the next day with him and the rest of the Seven. He gave you comfort in a way your parents never did. They loved you sure but they never really understood you. They were fearful when you started flying. You didn't even want to remember the conniption your father had when you'd accidentally fried an expensive painting with your lasers. To them your powers were somewhat of a burden, not something to revel in.

Yesterday you'd used your powers more than you have in your entire life. Homelander encouraged you.

A bit of a cliche, you already felt yourself really falling in love with him. You'd already been fairly attracted to him to begin with. When you saw him on tv, he was your ideal of the perfect man. Well spoken, handsome, chivalrous- everything you thought your future partner would be. He ticked off all of those boxes.

Chances though that he reciprocated such feelings so soon was low. He must see you as still a child. The age difference didn't help either.

"She'll be shadowing me today." Homelander tells Starlight as she stops by the breakfast buffet that was set up for the Seven. Her hand lingers on the cup of coffee she'd poured herself. "Just to get an idea of what we do on a daily basis."

She raises her brows. "You're taking her out on the field so soon?"

It's obvious that Homelander doesn't like Starlight questioning his choices when it comes to you.

You cheerfully nod. You memorized the schedule Homelander had given to you a few moments before Starlight had entered the conference room. Holding out the sheet of paper to her, she takes it and looks it over.

Starlight doesn't remove her eyes from the paper. "Don't you think she'd benefit from shadowing myself or Maeve one of these days? It looks like she's mainly going to be with you and Black Noir."

He keeps his tight lipped smile. "I'm giving her the basics. Once she's advancing to my satisfaction she can work with you and Queen Maeve. For now I want to be hands on with her training. After all, anyone would kill to be taught by America's number one hero." Homelander's smile that he gives you sends your tummy in a flurry.

Taking everything in you to maintain a professional appearance, you hide your blush by taking a sip of your coffee. You didn't want Starlight to see you obviously simping for him. That would be embarrassing. You wanted to be taken seriously during your time here. This was a once in a life time opportunity that you didn't want to squander. You planned on absorbing everything you learn during your time with the Seven. Maybe one day. . . you'd be able to join their ranks. Wasn't that every little supe's dream?

Starlight was actually happy to see Black Noir and Maeve walk in, A-Train trailing behind them; his eyes glued to his phone.

You straighten in your seat, showing them that you understood the great privilege it was to be there with them. Your heart raced being around so many big names.

You listen attentively as the Seven get down to morning business.

The next few days are spent integrating yourself into the lifestyle and schedule of the Seven. Homelander took control of your training in the beginning, but he had other priorities that pulled him away from you. Much to both of your chagrin. He handed you off to Maeve during his busy hours. Unlike Homelander, Maeve isn't quite as warm. She's a tough teacher. Even when you walk around with her in public she keeps everything professional. She holds herself perfectly which you catch yourself trying to replicate. Maeve had you learning the different districts of New York. Important to understand the diversity in each and the crime statistics that reflected upon it.

"You need to know the streets like the back of your hand. Especially when criminals try to run. They'll do whatever it takes to shake you from their trail." Maeve explains. "Since you can fly, it'll be especially important for you to memorize an aerial map too."

You diligently studied any and all maps you could get ahold of. Even went as far as spreading all of them out around your apartment.

Problems came at the prospect of Maeve sparring with you. With someone like Maeve it was necessary to take care to not use the full capacity of your powers on her. She wasn't completely indestructible, unlike you and Homelander. Physical training would have to wait until Homelander's schedule freed up.

He texts you as you wait for him in Vought's state of the art gym. The both of you make plans after training to hang out.

Finding yourself internally swooning, you shake your head free of any thoughts of that ilk. You wanted to remain professional. He's just being friendly and must know that you might be missing your family.

And it was weird that you hadn't received any calls or texts from either your mom or your dad. When you'd attempted to contact them yourself they never answer. Your messages go unreturned.

You'd thought about paying an actual visit with this concerning behavior. They'd gone from helicopter parents to ghost quiet. Your schedule was just so busy. Maybe you'd take the time to ask Homelander if you could take time off to go.

When Starlight shows up, gym bag hanging off of her shoulder, she's pleasantly surprised to find you alone in the locker room. "Hey! I feel like I haven't seen you in a while."

She was still in her supe outfit but lacked her long lashes that she wore to public events and patrol. Still she was so pretty.

"I've been shadowing Queen Maeve during the day. And then training in the afternoons whenever Homelander's available. I tried sparring with Queen Maeve, but even when I tried not to punch so hard. . ." You rub your knuckles. Even when you held back you still sent Queen Maeve a couple of feet away before she steadies herself to get back up. Really, it was you who insisted to train with Homelander after that. You knew nothing you did would seriously hurt him.

Pressing her lips together, Starlight suggests "You know, I may not look it,, but I'm pretty tough." She offers you a tentative smile. "If you want to try sparring with me? I don't have much to do today."

"Really?"

"Sure! You're supposed to be learning from all of us, right?"

You enthusiastically nod and close your locker door before you hop to your feet. "Okay! Guess I should get a warm up in before Homelander gets here."

Both of you laugh as you exit the lockers side by side. It was odd when you remember that Starlight is only a year or two older than you. She carries herself with such confidence. Each stride she takes is strong. Every block she makes, calculated. She'd only been in the Seven for little more than a year and she fit in so easily.

As much as you idolized Homelander, you loved Starlight. Even after Vought decided to change her supe uniform to something more scandalous. From the first photoshoots she'd done in her new outfit, there was a look of contempt that shadowed her eyes. Clear that this change wasn't her decision. Whatever Vought was trying to make her out to be, Starlight would remain herself. She was still the bad ass girl that gave you hope that you could one day join the Seven officially.

Starlight proved to be a competent sparring partner. Dodging any of your offensive attacks. You had to move quick around her. She was fast, even impressing you.

Neither of you noticed when Homelander strolls into the gym where supes honed their skills. You don't see the twitching of his jaw or the haughty way he folds his arms in front of his expansive chest. His eyes are particularly glued to Starlight, the interloper. It was one thing letting you follow and learn from Maeve. Homelander didn't trust Starlight one bit. He'd always felt something off about her. She just felt fake to him. And he didn't like how her expression had become hostile when he introduced you. Like he was doing something wrong by bringing you to the Tower. He wonders if she knew the truth about you.

A trickle of sweat was rolling down the side of your face when you finally turn to where Homelander was standing. "Oh! Hey Homelander!" You use the front of your tank top to wipe your face.

He forces his iciness to melt just enough so that he could return your bright smile while still shooting Starlight eyes that could only mean 'watch yourself'. "I thought you didn't feel comfortable physically training with anyone but me?" Homelander puts on a tone of faux hurt.

"Starlight assured me that she's sturdier than she looks. And she was right! Plus she's fast and I hardly landed any serious blows to her." Confidence made your smile widen and Homelander felt that familiar clenching in his chest. How precious and perfect you were to him. Starlight threatened that. She could be a bad influence on you. He could already see you dressing in a skimpy outfit like Starlight wore. And while he wouldn't mind seeing that, he would mind everyone else's penetrating gaze. That was something he couldn't risk.

"You almost got me a few times." She chuckles in return, already feeling the both of you were becoming actual friends.

"Well," Homelander inserts himself between you two "thank you for warming her up, but I'm here now. I'll take over."

Starlight's smile waver, her dark eyes hardening toward the leader of the Seven. "Of course." Her warmth returns when she addresses you. "We should do that again. I had fun."

You felt like you could explode. "Y-yeah! I had fun too. I'll see you later!" You didn't have many friends, at least not organic friends that you made yourself.

Yeah, your friendship with Starlight was definitely not Homelander approved.

The entire time it takes Starlight to leave the gym, Homelander's glare didn't move from her back. He didn't like her around his sister one bit.

"Alright!" Your cheerful hum brings him back to you. "Now I can really go all out. You ready?"

Corner of his mouth curling up into one of affection. He'd put a pin in it, wait until later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy being around you and having you beam up at him like he was your own personal deity. Your main god whom you would always rely on.

With Homelander distracted, Starlight takes the opportunity to slink out of the Tower and to the Boys' hideout. Her gray hoodie covers her signature gold hair. Hopefully that and her ripped pants would deter anyone from her identity. What she was doing was not only stupid but dangerous. For her, for Hughie, even for Butcher who wasn't exactly her favorite person.

"Annie! I was about to call you." Hughie immediately opens the door once he spies her through the peephole. "That girl-"

Annie holds her breath, waiting for what information they'd scrounged up.

"Another fuckin' supe." Butcher steals Hughie's opportunity as his heavy gaze lands on Annie.

She blinks and turns to Hughie. "What's he talking about?"

Hughie ruefully glances at Butcher before finishing what he was going to say earlier "That girl is Homelander's sister."

"That's. . ." The air in her lungs was stolen for her as it sunk in. Homelander's predatory claim of her, his hovering. But did you even know? It didn't seem likely.

Sitting her down, Hughie goes on to divulge more of Vought's dirty secrets that they tried to bury. A lot of hard work went into finding anything about you. All they had to go off of was your name. Any lead they managed to get was followed up. It was a wonder that they ever came upon the truth of your origin.

Staring at the blotchy piece of paper that Frenchie handed her, Annie felt her mouth go completely dry. The page was weathered, an old copy that held stains on the surface. Some words were so faded that they were intelligible.

John [the Homelander] failure uncontrollable neutralize

Lack of normal childhood had greatly damaged the psyche of Homelander. The problem lay in the fact that Homelander was indestructible. There was no known way to seriously maim him.

That was where the conception of you was truly developed. You would be raised entirely different than how Homelander was. That was Vought's mistake.

This was a tightly held secret. No one was meant to know about it. It sounded like Stan Edgar and his gaggle of scientists did everything they possibly could to ensure that you being related to Homelander would never come out.

"I guess with the truth of Ryan, he must have grown even more suspicious and found the information himself." quietly mused Hughie.

"Where did you get this document?" Annie forces her eyes up to him.

That has Butcher scoffing "What's it to you?"

Hughie intercedes. "We broke into Vogelbaum's home. Wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do. He was one of the scientist in charge of Homelander when he was growing up."

Worriedly chewing on her bottom lip, Annie closes her eyes to replay all of Homelander's interactions with you. Something still wasn't right. Why didn't you know? And why hadn't Homelander told you yet?

All of those questions plague her trip back to the Tower. It was never a good idea for her to be gone for too long. Others might grow suspicious of her outings.

She shouldn't be poking her nose deeper into Vought's business. But she couldn't let you be influenced by someone like Homelander. He was lying to you like he was lying to the rest of the world about how much of a good person he was. He wasn't golden. He was tarnished and distorted. And by how you gaze at him, Annie worries that you'd be all too willing to be corrupted by him. Eventually Homelander will show his true colors. When he does it will be too late for you to back out. He won't let you. Annie could see your future unfold before her. How you'd be stuck in the Seven similar to everyone else, including herself.

Slipping back in easily, Annie had to shed her sweatshirt and pants to dawn her Starlight uniform. Well, it felt more like a costume to her now. Losing all meaning when she discovered the Seven were not as honorable as she'd first imagined.

You'd done so well during your training, Homelander deemed it only right that you get a special treat: a special viewing of the new Vought supe movie. Better was that it would be screened in Vought's private theatre that was only accessible for the higher ups in the company. For tonight, he'd call in a favor to reserve the whole room just for you. Gourmet treats would be included and anything else you wanted.

Going back to your room to shower and change, you show up in a comfortable pair of yoga pants and an old graphic tee. You're about to put on a lightweight jacket until you catch the buzzing of your phone.

Hope that it's your mom and or dad, you rush to where your phone was charging only to be disappointed. Just a useless app notification.

You try not to let it get to you but it was already nearing a month since you got there and you hadn't spoken to your parents once. Weighing the phone in your hand, you contemplate trying to call them again. Mind changing when you notice the time. You replace your morose mood to one of giddiness and slip your phone into the pocket of your yoga pants.

You were a little surprised to see him still in his uniform and partially embarrassed for yourself. Maybe you should have dressed up a little bit more?

Homelander didn't appear to mind. In fact his smile grew.

"Should I go back and change?"

"No, you're perfect. Just the way you are." His smile disarms any concern you may have previously had. "In fact I feel overdressed."

"Next time we'll have to coordinate outfit aesthetics." You chuckle and follow him in. The theatre was no yet darkened. This wasn't like any screening room you'd been in before. Each seat was the size of a couch that were capable of reclining. Except for the two of you, the room was completely empty.

Seeing Homelander in such a setting was a bit weird. Homelander was doing something as normal as sitting down and watching a movie was bizarre. He even used the reclining button for his own seat.

Before the movie started, he calls in for food and drinks be brought to the both of you.

Once you were in possession of your snacks, the room darkens and the screen comes to life.

You like when Homelander becomes your personal commentator. He tells you behind the scenes bloopers that others would not be privy to on the special features. Both of you are loud and don't care when you laugh or talk. Honestly you didn't pay much attention to the movie. You were more entertained with talking to Homelander and spending time with him.

The feeling was mutual. Homelander had never felt as carefree as he did when he was with you. Your laugh was a beautiful one that he wanted to hear all the time.

And with you looking at him with eyes that shine lightening strike blue from the light of the movie, he really couldn't hold himself back. He removes one of his red gloves and moves it to tenderly brush against your cheek, asking without using his words for your lips.

From that single point of contact, your entire body is set aflame. Your breath lodged in your throat as you realize what is about to happen. To show your consent you tilt your face up and allow him access.

Homelander doesn't waste a second in closing the gap.

Taglist:

@the-maladaptive-daydreamers

@demodemo909

[creatorping]

“What if the boys were moodulated”presented in 4 doodle pages!

credits to @flowery-laser-blasts for the og idea! check out her post

This is my take on how the scenes would go if Drakken and Ron are controlled by emotions. Generally, I think that both of their skills shine more when they have confidence and let it loose (especially Ron).

For example, Ron’s charisma will increase along with skills like crafting and being the Jack of all trades. Drakken will be able to create his inventions a lot faster due to heighten emotions. His decision making is stronger but may execute them recklessly.

In Love:

Ron has all the confidence that he rarely shows, and directs it at Kim, only her. Every move he makes to woo Kim chips away her barrier of resistance. Ron would continue to show the puppy love affection, including physical touch (hugs galore). Ron asks her to the parade festival, convincing her with flowers.

Drakken goes full The way of the Househusband mode: cooking, cleaning, and showering Shego with gifts and affection every chance he gets. Heck, he’ll even make new gadgets just to benefit Shego in any way. Shego is weirded out by his behavior but inwardly crumbles at his affections. However, she gets concerned when Drakken gradually loses his ambitions to take over the world, which she didn’t want him to lose that. Well maybe a bit more love time wouldn’t hurt as Drakken begs her to go with him to the parade as a date. (He gave her the pout and dinner)

At the Parade:

Shego of course agreed to the festival date for fun. After overhearing about the moodulator she wants to get it to break Drakken out of control and get back to evil ambitions OR perhaps control Drakken for herself and make things easier.

She decided to use the E.M.A on the moodulator (even tho she has no idea how it works but she’ll try it) after eavesdropping on Kim and the Inventor. But girlie doesn’t know shit about inventions so she accidentally charged the moodulator to extreme anger

Extremely angry Drakken… bites. ha r d.

yeah he wrecks havoc and she loves the power he shows but he lacks the direction he had in the first place. So Shego ultimately tries to shut him down from being a mindless zombie

Shego had to use her upmost ability to shut Drakken down and not destroy himself at the parade. So at the end, she puts a muzzle on him after dragging him out of the scene. Then perhaps an aggressive kiss sets Drakken on a sudden emotional overdrive that broke the chip, which set him free from the moodulator.

In my take of Kim trying to reject Ron is that she feels he’s been a bit off and not truly himself. Like she loves the affection but the sudden bursts of emotions during the whole time makes her suspicious. Therefore Kim tried rejecting Ron at the festival

but then right as Kim tried to tell Ron her suspicions, the moodulator changes and angry Ron misunderstands the rejection and yeah…

Kim found out about the moodulator… and internally was torn about whether or not Ron’s emphasized feelings were genuine.

Ron channels his anger on not being enough for Kim and explodes with monkey kung fu, wrecking havoc at the parade. (I noticed that Ron gets the powers when his emotions take over him)

And of course kim isn’t going to be a sitting duck so she gets back with her martial art skills. They had a battle similar to what Hiro and Kim had in the exchange ep. Lowkey Kim finds it attractive of him fighting like that.

The chip breaks after they come at a draw in the fight. Ron panicked after realizing what he did to Kim and frantically apologizes but Kim kept the conversation playful to cover up the awkward confrontations until SO THE DRAMA MOVIE

[mikareo]

⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ SERIAL ROMANTIC ; gojo satoru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode one ! ꒱ . . . word count; 1.2k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ remember when we first met?

⊹ ⠀⠀ you might possibly be the least helpful person in the world when it comes to making a hinge profile...gojo can attest to that.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, gojo's a dick, swearing, best friends to lovers, love triangle

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"y'know, i'd appreciate it if you could help at least a little bit."

gojo can feel your hard glare targeting him, piercing into his skull like a red laser beam, yet still chooses to ignore you. he doesn't understand why you can't just finish unpacking later. you're kind of being a buzzkill. yes, he'd be a better friend if he continued to help you unpack your boxes and organize your cluttered dormitory; but he's got more important things to do. things that require his complete and utmost attention. things that are life or death on a college campus. things that will make or break his entire young adult experience...

...things like finishing his hinge profile!

"i promise— wait no. i pinky promise i'll put all of your shit away later, just tell me which photos to pick for this prompt, i'm stuck." he's begging and pleading for you to focus on him, which isn't unusual when dealing with a narcissist such as himself. c'mon. c'mon. gojo knows exactly how to win you over. it really isn't that hard. all he has to do is beg and whine a little, give you some puppy dog eyes, and you'll do whatever he says! there's no way he's actually going to put all of your clothes away; that'll take like...forever.

with an eye roll in response to the cheer of joy gojo lets out, you set your boxes to the side and lay beside him on the carpet. he can feel your nose tickling his neck as you lean close to see his screen, and he wonders why his heart skips a beat. eh, it's probably nothing.

"this is so dumb, satoru." you point to his screen, your finger directed at his favorite prompt so far.

don't hate me if i: have blue eyes

"okay, wait!" he flicks your forehead, laughing as you pout, and clicks on the 'add image' prompt. "it's like a thing now! girls hate guys with baby blues like mine!" being handsome is so hard nowadays.

if he asked anyone at jujutsu university who the biggest player on campus is, they'd name him off without blinking twice. while only being a freshman last year, gojo managed to become a household (or a dorm-hold?) name that'll be talked about for years after he graduates. there may be a possibility he's either flirted or made out with every girl in his graduating class, not including you, all in one school year. without the use of dating apps, he went on a total of eighty-seven first dates from august to june; albiet seeing a few girls more than a few times for some special alone time, if you get what he means; and he had the absolute time of his life and needs to recreate that thrill again.

"you don't need an app to get girls, you get plenty already."

ugh why do you always have to rain on his parade?

"obviously i don't need an app, but it's way more fun this way." he argues, "imagine if i hit a hundred first dates before may. i'd break last year's record."

"and why are you getting so butt-hurt about my dating life?" he's treading into dangerous territory. the two of you never talk about your romantic experiences, considering you never want to talk about them with him. "it's not my fault you had a total of...hm what was it? zero dates last year?"

"just find a fucking photo and get this over with."

yeah, your love life is off limits...

a chuckle rumbles from his throat as gojo continues scrolling through his camera roll, searching for a photo that screams 'boyfriend material'...or to be more specific 'one night stand material'. while he's searching for a photo that'll make girls want to sleep with him, he doesn't notice that his brightest smiles only appear in the photos with you. then again, he never notices you; and if he ever did, it's unlikely he'd date you anyways. you're his best friend. he doesn't want to ruin that. he can't ruin that, because then he'd have to imagine a life without you in it.

a particular picture stands out from the rest, and you choose to point it out. it's the two of you in your high school uniforms, standing side-by-side beneath the cherry blossoms after your third year graduation ceremony. his hair is slightly shorter and his height hadn't reached its full potential yet, but you look absolutely adorable— almost like a kitten that he's protecting from the no-good boys of the world (technically he belongs in that category, but that's besides the point).

"do you remember when we first met?" a soft hum is murmured in his ear and gojo finds the sound quite comforting.

he thinks for a moment, completely blanking as the memory escaped his mind, and takes a random guess. "middle school? english class?"

the look of disappointment on your face immediately tells him he's wrong.

"look it was a really long time ago, i know that at least." no amount of excuses will make up for his awful recollection, but he tries nonetheless. gojo satoru is a shitty friend. that's just how it is. you both know it and he tries his best to be better for you, however, he can't help the way he is. some boys are born to be boys. "i'm trying my best—"

"it's alright, just stop."

you're so upset.

"there are more important things to remember, really it's fine."

why are you so upset?

"i'm sorry," he mumbles. this feeling of guilt isn't familiar to gojo and he can't help but hate it. "i'll try to remember."

what is it that you were trying to reminisce about? he wants to know but he shouldn't pry any more, you're clearly done with the conversation and want to move on with a concentrated thinking face gracing your features. you look pretty. woah. you look really pretty. he's never thought that before. why hasn't he noticed before? suddenly, the thought of however many hinge girls want him isn't very appealing and he just wants to make you smile again. you're so pretty when you smile. his heart is beating ten times faster than usual and he's urging it to calm down, but it won't.

...maybe that's a good thing, though.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[socalledsomethingorother]

new tentative predictions for this season and what will happen in each episode

i'm so hyped for the rest of this season but also. so much of the manga we still have to wait for s8 for. let's see how much exactly

manga spoilers below cut

star vs. tomura START [329-331]

star vs. tomura END, class A's first appearance [332-335]

class A training montage, UA traitor reveal, [336-337]

izuku and iida meet with hatsume, aizawa talks to aoyama [338-340]

toga visits her childhood home, class A learn the plans for the final war, izuku and ochako's cliffside chat, war START [341-343]

flashback to the plan to deceive AFO using brainwashing (hi shinso!!), divide and conquer starts, toga yoinks izuku [344-346]

UA big three + jeanist + edgeshot + mandalay + mirko + monoma + aizawa + katsuki vs. "tomura" START, toga's confession to izuku, ochako + tsuyu vs. toga START, shoto vs. dabi START [347-349]

dabi's backstory, shoto vs. dabi pt1 END, shoto's phosphor [350-352]

endeavor vs. AFO START, AFO reveals his involvement with touya, endeavor loses his arm, enter: jirou and tokoyami, jirou loses an ear[353-355]

endeavor vs. AFO CONT. endeavor backstory cut back to the battle on UA's tomb, howitzer impact: cluster [356-358]

enter; UA big three, katsuki's humiliation, tenko shimura mention, suneater's big move [359-361]

katsuki's death, dabi gets back up, skeptic hacks UA, AFO starts to rewind, edgeshot starts to repair katsuki's body [362-364]

edgeshot continues to repair katsuki's body, heroes vs. "tomura" END, izuku's here!, izuku goes ballistic upon seeing katsuki's body, END COUR ONE [365-367]

COUR TWO START, izuku vs. shigaraki START, izuku uses gearshift, mic + koda + shoji vs. spinner + heteromorph army START [368-370]

shoji backstory, koda lore, rush to kurogiri/shirakumo [371-373]

kurogiri uses portals, sad man's parade START, cut to ochako + tsuyu vs. toga, endeavor leaves to fight dabi [374-376]

izuku vs. shigaraki CONT., enter: gentle + la brava, enter: lady nagant, izuku takes shigaraki away from UA [377-379]

business course starts recording, kurogiri takes aizawa and mic in a portal, enter: shiketsu, dark shadow: light of baldur, cut to ochako + tsuyu vs. toga, enter: shinso + machia + kirishima [380-382]

flashback to mina + kirishima + shinsou @ jaku hospital ruins, mina saves shinso from sludge villain, machia lore, news reporter helicopters start circling the fights, tokoyami's defeat, hawks' defeat, AFO steals fierce wings, mineta appears, stain appearance [383-385]

dabi threatens to explode, AFO speeds towards shigaraki, all might contacts iida and shoto, iida takes shoto and runs towards dabi, all might intercepts AFO, geten is related to rei, endeavor meets dabi, dabi awakens an ice quirk, enter: mama rei [386-387]

enter: natsuo + fuyumi, iida and shoto reach dabi, the todoroki family all fall unconscious [388-390] [shoto todoroki: rising]

cut to ochako vs. toga, toga's backstory, toga clones a bunch of heroes, toga stabs ochako, ochako's quirk awakening [391-393]

ochako and toga chat about romance, twice clones start to fade, toga transforms into ochako and begins a blood transfusion, toga passes out, cut to all might vs. AFO, all might reveals his mecha suit, all might starts trash talking AFO lmao [394-397]

all might: rising, all might starts using class a's "quirks", aoyama + hagakure appearance, all might uses "navel laser", hagakure is visible, enter: stain! [398-400]

stain's defeat, AFO tries to use his warp quirk, AFO dangles all might for izuku to see, all might tries to self-destruct and fails, AFO begins ripping all might in half, an explosion is heard from UA, katsuki's revival. END SEASON 7 [401-403]

[headspace-hotel]

Feelings about purely instrumental music? I got into it by way of listening to enough video game OSTs that lyrical music now feels like a genre I have to like, break into. Interesting because for most people alive today, music inherently includes lyrics and meaning derived from them.

I got into music in general through instrumental music, really. Two Steps from Hell, Audiomachine, and Really Slow Motion are still some of my most commonly listened to artists.

Those three belong to a niche category of artist that basically makes music for trailers. Like, movie trailers. You have almost certainly heard Audiomachine's music before, if you haven't been living under a rock. (No shade if you do, in fact, live under a rock. Sounds like an ideal way to live in this day and age.)

Two Steps from Hell became popular enough early on among regular people who just, enjoyed their songs, to switch over to primarily making music for regular human listeners, rather than movie trailers. They are truly an experience, and do things like introduce dubstep and electric guitar solos into what otherwise sounds like a "classical" orchestral track.

Other good artists that roughly fall within this category include Valentin Weist, BrunuhVille, Twisted Jukebox, Kari Sigurdsson, and City of the Fallen.

Shit i'm going to have to make a detailed list of recs huh.

Two Steps from Hell...okay. I'm going to focus on them because TSFH really was what introduced me to how powerful music could be to just wreck your shit body and soul. Their music is epic as in "gives you full-body chills and makes you feel like a god" transcendent.

Compared with most of the others, TSFH is a lot more varied both in tone and in just...the range of weird stuff that they do. Some of their songs are completely unique sounding and impossible to compare to anything else.

ok all right just bear with me

"epic" adventurous dragon riding with dual wielding laser swords: High C's, Clock Tower Parade, Never Give Up On Your Dreams, Flight of the Silverbird, Victory, Realm of Power, Impossible, Fall of the Fountain World, Skulls and Trombones, Norwegian Pirate, Color the Sky

Narrative/character sketch stuff: Blackheart, Caradhras, Dangerous* (*has lyrics!)

Tour de force through a Realm: Amaria/Welcome to Amaria (same song, released twice under diff names), Big Sky, Science, Starfall, Phantom

Dramatic Dark Tunes For Villainy: Chase the Light, Queen of Crows, The Raven Talks Backwards, Stormkeeper, Breath of Cold Air, 1000 Ships of the Underworld, Asimov

what the FUCK is this aka songs that transcend normal categorization more than usual: Casablanca, Future Fortress, Lost in Las Vegas, All is Hell that Ends Well, Replicate, Winterspell

Nothing prepares you for realizing that TSFH has hundreds of songs and somehow almost every single one of them is the best song you've ever heard and compels you to listen to it over and over again. It's madness.

There is no way to fully describe Two Steps from Hell. "Genre" is as dust sifting through frail mortal fingertips to them. You will listen to dark orchestral Viking EDM dubstep pirate metal with Latin choir and you will FUCKING LIKE IT.

[bijouxcarys]

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should have never been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tag list: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @chromations @firethatgrewsolow @tangerine1969 @callmethehunter @m-faithfull @strsmn @angrychicksposts @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul If you'd like to be added to the list, just let me know!

Elena’s heart pounded with an urgency that defied control.

Not a single utterance pierced the air during the entire journey with John, the car navigating a path all too familiar—an unwelcome route leading to a place laden with memories she fervently sought to avoid.

The nauseating grip tightened, every palpitation threatening to dislodge the contents of her stomach. Tranquility seemed a distant prospect, and the turmoil within her hinted at a precarious tipping point.

Endless scenarios paraded through her mind, a relentless procession of possibilities. She longed for simplicity—an in-and-out, a resolution neatly packaged and concluded. That’s all it needed to be. Yet, a deep-seated intuition whispered that simplicity would elude her. It would stretch, twist, and linger far beyond necessity. 

In no way, shape, or form, would David entertain brevity. Not today.

Beyond the apprehension surrounding David’s reaction to this clandestine mission, to merely collect clothing and cherished mementos, there lingered a reluctance, a hesitant acknowledgement of John’s presence. Despite the depth of trust she held for him, a trust entirely unparalleled, it failed to nullify his actions when under the influence of either one of two things—alcohol, or emotion.

Elena had yet to divulge the whole truth about her tumultuous relationship with David, and wouldn’t until she never had to see the man again. John, though privy to odd reactions to loud noises and sudden movements, remained unaware of the intricate web of torment. If John learned the full extent of David’s malevolence, he wouldn’t be accompanying Elena to retrieve her belongings; he’d be behind bars.

In their childhood, it demanded every ounce of Elena’s energy to sway John from the precipice of violence. Those boys, stationed defiantly across the courtyard, seemed hell-bent on making it their life’s mission to underscore the fact that Elena wasn’t as thin as the other 14-year-old girls at school. A relentless daily reminder that required her utmost effort to dissuade John from unleashing a physical retribution that, in her eyes, wasn’t worth it. Every. Single. Day.

In a lot of ways, she would have preferred to relive the secondary school taunting than experience another 30 minutes of David. What John would do in light of knowing the whole story was a scary thought, and one Elena wasn’t prepared to even prosper.

“El?”

John’s voice brought her out of her head for a moment, and she realised they were pulling up outside the block of flats she hadn’t returned to in a fortnight. Swallowing thickly, she willed herself to look at him.

“Are you alright?” his brows narrowed, eyes gleaming into her soul. She gave him a pathetic nod. “Y’know I can always go in myself, if ya just tell me what to pick u–”

“No,” she shook her head. “I… need to do this.”

“‘Kay…” he reluctantly accepted, but quickly added, “I am comin’ in with you though.”

“John, you don’t have t–”

“I’m not arguin’ about this, Elena, I’m coming in.”

Before she could make any further comment, John was already opening the door and stepping out into the road. A whimper left her mouth, her hand a foreign entity as she, too, pushed the car door open. It wasn’t even that hot out, but the sun felt like lasers burning right through every inch it touched. Sturdy trainers felt flimsy, the gravel beneath her feet as blatant as it could get.

She felt she was walking The Mile to her death.

“Hey…” John stopped her as they reached her floor, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him. Their eyes met, and his stomach dropped at the fear looking back at him. My God, she’s terrified… “It’s gunna be alright, El. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep…” she mumbled, her foot moving to take another step.

“I mean it.”

Looking back at him, she mustered up a grateful smile, and nodded slowly. “I know,” she whispered.

The air was thick as they reached the door marked ‘13,’ a feature she had once found excitement in—living in a flat with the same number as your birthday. Now, it just reeked of a hapless existence; a far cry from what used to be her sanctuary.

Do I knock? No, Elena, this is your home—oh, shit, it’s locked. Where’s that fucking spare key? She flipped over the doormat with her foot, expecting to see the familiar metal looking back up at her. Nothing. Fucking prick…

With bated breath, Elena lifted her hand and gave three experimental knocks to the door, each one ringing deeper and deeper through her ears. Please, don’t be home… What am I talking about? I need to do this now, I keep wearing the same two outfits, you idiot…

She daren’t look up as the door swung open. Instead, she fell eye-level with that stupid striped, skin-tight shirt that became a daily choice of clothing. In and out. Please. God, if you’re up there, just let this be simple. Please…

John stood by, arms folded, as the door opened, revealing the man he hadn’t seen since December. A tall fucker. Can’t have been any shorter than six-foot-four. And there Elena stood, a measly five-foot-seven in comparison. Shaggy dirty-blonde hair that bordered on a light brown, straight and perched just below his jaw. Parted at the side. Twat.

“Elena,” David sighed, instantly taking note of John’s presence behind her. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried si–”

“I don’t want to talk,” she told him, as sternly as she could. “Just came to get my things…” Without looking him in the eye, she squeezed past him. He looked over at John, his green eyes calm, before they narrowed as he turned to follow Elena.

“What the fuck are you talking about, ‘just came to get my things’?”

Elena sighed and spun to look at David, accidentally catching his eyes. The eyes that commanded her every move. Eyes she felt too worthless to meet. That’s because you are.

The click of the door shutting reverberated through the room, drawing their attention like a sudden snap of a whip. John, his gaze fixed with unwavering determination, stood his ground, sending a slow nod of reassurance to Elena.

“Did I invite you in?” David’s voice sliced through the tense silence, his words laced with thinly veiled hostility as he locked eyes with John.

“Nah, mate, you didn’t,” John replied with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze flickering past David to Elena. “I’ll be here, go get your things, El.”

David’s movements were swift, a blockade forming as he positioned himself to bar Elena’s access to the hallway. “Hold on a sec, darling,” he muttered, his voice a deceptive whisper as he edged closer to her, a somewhat predatory gaze fixed on her.

Elena shook her head, her eyes dropping to the ground as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Let me through, David. I’m getting my things, and I’m leaving,” she pleaded, her voice strained with emotion. In the charged atmosphere, she could sense David’s growing agitation, a palpable tension thickening the air around them.

John, alert to every subtle shift in the room, edged closer, ready to intervene if necessary. He noted the tightening of David’s fists with a sense of grim satisfaction, silently grateful for his own presence in that moment.

“Oi,” John interjected sharply, his voice cutting through the unease like a knife. “She said let her through, mate. You’re not makin’ this any easier by being a dick.”

Elena’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for David’s reaction, her shoulders instinctively hunching in a familiar stance of self-protection. A heavy breath escaped her lips as David begrudgingly relented, allowing her to slip past him and into the bedroom.

In the sparse living room, devoid of any personal touches, John and David locked eyes in a silent standoff, each sizing the other up with cloaked animosity. David’s gaze raked over John’s form, his mouth twisting into a snarl of disdain.

“I don’t know what she’s been telling you,” David began, his voice dripping with forced calmness. “I don’t know where all this has come from, either.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to regain control of the situation.

“She’s not told me anything,” John replied evenly, perching himself on the pine table behind the swamp-green sofa that was most definitely not of Elena’s choosing.

“Bollocks!”

“Now, now, no need for the language,” John retorted, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone.

David’s frustration simmered beneath the surface as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Look, we both know how she can get rowdy, and mouthy–”

“Naturally. I have known her since we were kids,” John interjected, his patience wearing thin as he pushed back against David’s attempts to deflect blame.

“You clearly don’t know her very well, then,” David shot back, his eyes narrowing in defiance as he locked eyes with John. “Now… I don’t want trouble with you, chief. But I think it might be best if you just leave our relationship alone.”

“What relationship?” John scoffed, his anger bubbling to the surface. “All I see is a controlling arsehole that, for whatever reason, has made it almost impossible for a girl to come and go as she pleases… Is that enough for your theory on why she’s getting as far away from you as possible?”

John watched as David’s face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and indignation, his resolve wavering under the weight of the drummer’s accusations. Taking a step closer, John met David’s gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“She’s not going anywhere, Bonham,” David growled, his voice dripping with venom.

With a resigned sigh, John shook his head. “I think she is, actually, Henning…”

Elena emerged from the bedroom, a large bag slung over her shoulder and a cardboard box tucked under her arm. She glanced briefly at David, her expression a dangerous mix of determination and apprehension.

“What the hell are you doing, Elena?” David demanded, his tone laced with desperation. “You can’t just walk out like this. I’m all you have. Remember everything I ever told you? You’ll have nobody.”

Elena’s jaw clenched as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “I’ll figure it out, David,” she replied, her voice firm despite the tremor of fear running through her. “I can’t stay here… with you, anymore.”

David’s eyes narrowed once again, the mask slowly slipping from his facade. “You’re making a mistake, Elena,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her. “You need me. You need us.”

Elena recoiled instinctively as David reached out to grab her wrist, her heart pounding at an instant. “Don’t touch me, David,” she snapped with a panicked tone.

But David refused to release his grip, his fingers tightening around her wrist. Digging into her skin. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, low and menacing.

With a surge of adrenaline, Elena wrenched her wrist free from David’s grasp, her movements quick and decisive—just like the night she fled. “Get off!” she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.

John stepped forward, a protective stance as he positioned himself between Elena and David. “Touch her again, and your jaw will be on the back of your fuckin’ head, you piece of shit.”

David’s face contorted with rage, but he held himself back, his fists clenched at his sides. “Fine,” he seethed. “Go then. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realise you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.”

“No, the biggest mistake of my life was saying ‘yes’ to a drink 3 fucking years ago,” Elena squared her shoulders, her resolve unwavering despite the trepidation coursing through her veins. With one final glare at David, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, John following close behind.

As they made their way down to John’s car, Elena’s steps faltered slightly, her composure fluctuating with every passing movement. John cast a concerned glance her way, noting the tension in her shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes.

“You alright, El?” John asked softly, his voice tinged with worry as he took her things and secured them in the backseat.

Elena forced a tight-lipped smile, her facade inevitably crumbling as they settled into the car. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks in silent torrents.

John reached out to comfort her, his hand hovering with uncertainty over her shoulder. “El, it’s okay, you did it,” he murmured.

But Elena recoiled from his touch, her eyes flashing through an uncharacteristic anguish. “J-Just… drive, p-please… I need to get… get away,” she panted, burying her head in her hands.

“Okay, yeah, okay…” he rambled, immediately pulling away from the block of flats. 

On their journey back to the Bonhams’ house, John couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his head that Elena still hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding David. Seeing him grab her the way he did, her instantaneous reaction. There had to be something more. The Elena he knew would have spun around and clobbered the cunt in the face. Except, he reminded himself, this wasn’t his Elena. This was a shell of the girl he grew up with. And he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to coax her back.

Elena felt sick to her stomach. Why do I feel guilty? There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t understand why she was finding this moment so difficult, so distant from what she expected to feel. Shouldn’t she be joyous, over the moon? To finally be free of that monster that controlled her entire life?

David’s attempt to physically restrain her back at the flat was the furthest thing triggering her uneven emotions in the car. No, she’d learned to deal with that by now. Above all else, above everything she should have been upset over… she was angry. At herself.

Thankfully, the drive back to John’s was long enough for her to get a majority of her emotions out. Crying as hard as she needed. As loud as she needed. John was the only one she would let see her in this state. It had to come out now.

When the erratic breathing and sobbing had worn her out, leaving a red and puffy face in its wake, she was able to regain her bearings somewhat. As much as she enjoyed hearing John ramble on for what seemed like hours, she was glad he chose to stay quiet this time. He knew her well enough to know when’s the time to shut the fuck up—when to give her her space.

Upon passing the familiar petrol station, she knew they were almost back. All she wanted to do was pass out. Sleep forever—at least long enough to erase any memory of the past couple of years.

“‘M sorry…” she murmured, staring out the window, her eyes still glassy.

John glanced at her, checking in, before scoffing lightly and shaking his head. “You’re the last person who needs to be apologising right now.”

“No, I mean…” she turned her head in his direction, but kept her eyes on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… earlier. And that you got caught up in–” her breath caught in her throat, “In all that.” 

He chuckled airily under his breath, a somewhat amused smile on his lips. “And like I just said… You’re not the one who needs to apologise.” Stopping at a red light, he had the chance to look at her head-on. “Seriously. It’s okay. Everything’s gunna be okay, El.”

Upon looking up at his eyes, those warm, trusting eyes she’d found solace in for so many years, came the first wave of relief. A sudden realisation. Instead of David’s nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her of her shortcomings, she heard a different one. A distant whisper from a fragile conversation she’d only ever had with one person.

You’ve done the hardest part… 

No idiot would do something so brave…

With a shaky sigh, she nodded, smiling almost painfully at John.  “Yeah…” she whispered her agreement. “Everything’s gonna be okay…” she repeated, almost as a self-assuring mantra as she looked ahead. “The light’s green,” she nodded her head towards the traffic lights in front of them.

“Shit,” John pressed down on the gas pedal, a comically panicked look on his face that made Elena stifle a small laugh. A laugh. A real laugh…

It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna be okay. 

The air was lighter by the time they pulled up to John’s driveway, and it seemed the sun wasn’t as menacing as it was before. Catching a glimpse of Pat in one of the windows put yet another smile on her face, as if another reminder that there is life outside of David. He’d damaged her mind. Tainted all of her thoughts. It wouldn’t go away overnight, but being with the Bonhams was a refreshing prompt along the road to understanding she was free.

And she never had to see David Henning ever again.

“‘Ere, let me get that,” John offered, pulling Elena’s bag from the back of the car and slugging it over his shoulder. “Fuck, what do you have in here, the kitchen sink?”

Snorting, Elena lifted the box into her arms, nudging the car door shut with her knee. “It’s the jeans and those jackets, Bon…”

“Oh, those fuckin’ jackets are massive!” he gasped, as if he had forgotten.

“Yeah, but they look good on,” she smirked, watching her steps as they made their way to the front door. John’s face dropped a little when he tried the handle, finding it locked.

“The fuck’s goin’ on ‘ere…” Turning around abruptly, he almost collided with Elena. “Back door.”

“Jesus, do you mind not body slamming me in the process?” she mumbled, spinning round in the direction of the gate that led to the Bonhams’ back garden.

As they closed in, the familiar laughter of Jason could be heard, along with some clumsy clapping.

“Do it again!” The sound of someone’s shoes coming into contact with a football followed. Jason cheered again, his adorable cadence putting a smile on Elena’s face.

The smile, however, seemed to widen when she heard familiar laughter—and it definitely wasn’t Pat.

Rounding the corner of the house, the heartwarming scene of Jason kicking his football towards a carefree Robert unfolded.

“Again!”

“Can only do a single trick so many times, Jason,” Robert chuckled, but humoured the three-year-old, performing a brief dribble with a concentrated face. Far from a trick, but enough to mesmerise Jason in his innocent joy.

“Well if it isn’t Bobby Thomson,” John called out, catching the pair off guard.

Robert’s eyes went instantly to Elena’s, and he flashed that charming smile her way, before swiftly giving John attention. “Nah, mate, Thomson’s a left backer. I’m more of a Derek Dougan,” he said, attempting an Irish accent in the process.

“Who tha fuck’s Derek Dougan?”

Jason gasped, his presence momentarily subdued. “Mummy!” He ran inside, all whilst shouting, “Daddy just said a bad word!” Elena stifled a laugh, watching over her shoulder as his small form disappeared.

The blonde froze, giving his band mate a dumbfounded expression. “I don’t trust you anymore, Bonzo.”

Elena, with an amused smirk, glanced up at John. “Dougan’s a midfielder,” she let him know. John just simply let out an exasperated groan, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s also Irish…” She looked at Robert. “Hence the terrible accent,” she teased lightly. Her eyes still felt heavy from the car journey, but jesting with Robert came as naturally as breathing.

“I didn’t know you were into football, Elena,” Robert tilted his head to the side, hand on his hip. The small gesture and placement caught Elena’s attention, just like he had done at rehearsal. Everything about the man screamed appeal, in every sense of the word.

“I’m not,” she simply responded with a shrug of her shoulders. There was a pause between the three of them and it didn’t take very long for the two men to understand why Elena happened to know so much about football. She may have not been the one in her home—ex home—watching football, but she sure got a lot of it from David.

“Uh, I’m gonna take this inside before it cuts off the circulation to my brain,” John quipped, patting Elena’s bag. “Ya want a cuppa, Rob?”

Great, Elena, you’ve made it awkward now… Fucking idiot. You can’t say anything without fucking it u–

“El?”

“Hm?” she snapped her head to John. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted a cuppa,” he repeated gently, a sympathetic gaze matching his tone. She gave him a passive nod, turning to follow him and Robert inside. Her fingers were starting to lock up from gripping onto the bottom of the cardboard box, so she instantly dropped it down on the kitchen table once they’d entered.

“What’s with the box?” Robert nodded towards it, casually nosing about in the kitchen with, yet again, his hands settled on his hips. The poor lad didn’t even realise how beautiful he looked as he inspected all the photos and magnets on the Bonhams’ fridge. Eyebrows all narrowed as he focused his eyes, a subconscious curling of his mouth that naturally stretched over his strong jaw.

Elena, pack it in. It’s Robert. Stop.

“Um,” she cleared her throat, resting a hand on top of the box. “It’s just got all these photos and random things in it that are important to me. Memories, I guess…” she trailed off.

“Oh, fantastic!” Robert chimed, hair bouncing about as he turned to look at her. “Got any embarrassing photos of Bonzo in there?”

She chuckled, glancing at said man, who was busy preparing tea. “None that don’t also embarrass me.” She carefully lifted the lid halfway off the box and strategically fished out a small stack of processed photographs that were a little worn by now, tied together by an elastic band. Robert’s footsteps came closer, until his presence was right next to her, the warmth radiating from his body.

“What happened to the corners?”

Elena pulled her lips into a tight line, eyeing the damaged corners of the lid of the box, darker than the rest of it, and requiring the utmost of care. “Nothing, just an accident…” she shrugged it off.

He peered over her shoulder, feeling a small jump in his heart at being this close to her again. He had to suppress the idiotic grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her hair… Nothing appealed to him more in that moment than to run his fingers through it.

“Oh, this was when we went camping,” Elena smiled, holding up a photo labelled ‘Bon-Bon + El, Lake District, July 1964.’ “Bon had just finished school, so we decided to go up North for a couple of days.”

Robert tilted his head down to get a better look, snorting at the boyish expression on John’s face, equipped with the adolescent beginning stages of growing out a moustache. But the 15-year-old Elena made his smile soften. She looked happy there. Wrapped up in an earthy orange cardigan, stray blades of grass stuck to her legs from pitching a tent.

“Not that fuckin’ photo,” John whined, glancing over at them. “I look like a right knobhead!”

“Well, you always look like a knobhead, Bonzo,” Robert fired back with a smirk, looking back down at the photo. “It’s a lovely photo.”

“Eh…” she squirmed a little with a shrug. “It’s cute. John looks good in it, at least.” She carefully slipped it back in with the rest of the photos.

“You do, as well,” Robert gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Pfft, I look fat in it.”

John’s hand stopped mid-milk pour, eyes diverting to the side as he overheard Elena’s comment. Since when does she think she looks fat? Scrunching up his eyebrows, he finished making their teas. Even the comments from schoolboys didn’t influence her own perception of herself. Weird. But then, it hit him. Fuckin’ David…

“No, you look nice,” Robert refuted, shaking his head. A glance at her showed she didn’t believe him. “Seriously, yer cute.”

At the counter, John’s eyebrows raised, and a shocked smile appeared on his face. Well, shit, just jump right in, Percy…

Elena raised an eyebrow, looking up at Robert, who was still looking over her shoulder. Panic briefly flashed through his eyes and he chuckled airily, shifting back.

“It’s a cute photo, that is…” With a somewhat subdued smile, he went over to John to take his tea. Elena was left to mull over the minute interaction. Seriously, yer cute… No, it didn’t mean anything… Can’t have.

“‘Ere y’are,” John appeared next to her, offering her cup of tea. She gave him a smile in gratitude, immediately sipping at it, the fresh heat of it snapping her out of the overtime her brain had unwillingly subscribed to. “Anyway, why’re you here, Rob?”

“What, I can’t just come and see how you’re doing?” Robert squinted his eyes, shielding half of his expression with the mug of tea in his hand. 

John stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions, totally unconvinced by his response. “You’ve just seen me every day for months, mate…” He watched as Robert came up with an unnecessarily detailed reason for his visit, claiming he wanted to see how Pat and Jason were doing, and how the house was… the fucking house. But when all was said and done, John wasn’t passive enough to miss the plain and obvious reason for Robert’s presence.

Elena.

But he’d let it slide. No need to embarrass lil Robert Anthony… 

Besides, how could John ruin this moment? It wasn’t a foreign sight; Elena’s eyes often lit up in the presence of Robert, whether she realised it or not. He was a mere observer to a natural conversation about Robert’s hair. She commented on how it had grown out since she last saw him. How much it suited him. Shamelessly, yet subconsciously, lavishing him with small compliments as if they’d never parted. 

Unlike his response to the hoards of girls who usually gave him such praise on the road, Robert seemed to reduce down to that teenage boy who saw Elena for the first time, as bright and radiant as any sunbeam dancing across the lilypad of an oasis. He’d take what he could get. 

“Oh, there is a reason I’m here, actually,” Robert remembered, pointing his mug at John. “Uh, Jim and I are gunna head down to Snowdonia for a couple of weeks to work on some new material. Just thought, with us three being back together ‘n’ all, we could go out for a few drinks before I go?” He let the question hang in the air for a second, looking between the two of them in a patient standby.

John and Elena exchanged glances, as though telepathically asking each other’s opinion. Eventually, like clockwork, they both shrugged and nodded.

“Don’t see why not,” Elena softly accepted Robert’s offer, smiling up at him with a cadence akin to restrained excitement. “I mean… I don’t think I’ve actually been out for a nice drink in a… long time,” she huffed with a chuckle, attempting to conceal her melancholy recollection of the last time she’d had a good time with anyone at all. 

Robert’s gaze softened as he picked up on her implication, sending her a sideways smile that ignited a warm buzz in her stomach.

“Well, this is your new beginning, El,” John started with his usual grin of reassurance. “What better way to kick it off with a drink with two of the finest men you’ve ever known?” He paused, glancing at Robert. “Well, one and a half.”

Robert sent him a jesting glare, but his mind, as prone to addiction as it was, stayed adhered to Elena, and the excitement it brung to accept his offer for a drink. 

Even if it was dressed up as an innocent gathering of friends.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Nomen Nescio | chapter 1

Out of all of his names, he’s always felt the most comfortable with Danny Fenton. -- Nomen nescio - used to signify an anonymous or unnamed person. Translated from lating, it means "I do not know the name." 5th Installment of the Hey Brother AU

A DPxDC crossover // Read on [AO3]

MASERLIST // Next Chapter → Out of all of his names, he’s always felt the most comfortable with Danny Fenton. It was his identity, who he was and how he viewed himself for a good few centuries. Regardless of how much he’s changed, he’d always believe himself to be Danny Fenton at his core. That the Fentons don’t exist in this universe also means that it’s a handy pseudonym for whenever he wants to remain under radar. Jack Fenton, Mattie Fenton, Jasmin Fenton; all identities he’s assumed in one way or another. Sometimes he’d even parade around as Sam Manson or Tucker Foley. 

(He contemplated going by Vlad Masters for a solid ten seconds before shuddering at the idea. He wanted to remain anonymous, not picked out for having such an obvious villain name.)

After Danny Fenton, he felt most at home with the name al Ghul. It was the name he was given in this life, lovingly chosen by his mother. If it were not for that single fact, he might have discarded himself of the name entirely.

Danyal al Ghul was everything Danny Fenton was not. The prodigal son. The Demon’s Heir. Pride of the League. An accomplished assassin, a proficient killer, the unseen shadow. The name alone cultivated a reputation of fear even without his interference (he blamed Ra’s for that). But it was a name that he’d grown up with. A name his mother chose. A name that gave him a brother. So even if he did not love the name, he still saw some part of himself in it. It was a version of himself he chose to be in this life, for better or for worse.

Wayne was the name that sat heavy and uncertain on his tongue. A name that he did not think of as his own, even when it was offered freely. The name evoked a legacy. Of pioneers, of architects, of doctors, of the forefathers of Gotham in all its smog and glory. Of hope, of justice, of the weak becoming strong to protect those who cannot do so themselves. It was the name of heroes.

And Danny—whether Fenton or al Ghul—was not a hero in this life. In the grand scheme of things, he was barely a hero in the last.

He could be a hero if he wanted to. He had the suit, the powers, and even the backstory. And he was certain worse people than him had turned over a new leaf and decided to pursue the path of righteousness. But the fact of the matter is that Danny didn’t want to.

He’s had that life already. And heroism just didn’t hold the same appeal it once did when he was fourteen and living in a different universe.

But just because he wasn’t a hero in this life, doesn’t mean he’d sit idly by when innocent people are in trouble in front of him.

Shades lowered, scarf firmly wrapped over his nose, and hood up, Danny ripped the emergency doors off the back of a school bus and ushered all the kids out. Just minutes later, a huge chunk of falling debris smashed onto the now empty bus.

Ah, Metropolis. Why did he wanna come here again?

Superman crashed onto the road, leaving a boulder-sized crater into the asphalt. He burst from the rubble unharmed, firing off his laser vision at the giant robot looming in the distance.

Right. It’s because he wanted to see aliens. 

Danny helped the bus driver usher the kids into some nearby safe zone, mostly by making sure there were no stragglers. He kept watch over the battle at the corner of his eye, but paid no mind after Superman bounded into the air, probably leading the robot away from them. 

One of the little kids—maybe a few years younger than Damian—tugged at his sweater. “You were so strong, mister! You just ripped the door right off!”

Danny couldn’t help the grin on his face. He ruffled the kid’s hair. “That’s cuz I eat all my vegetables.”

“Nuh uh! You’ve definitely got super powers or something. Ooh, or you’re an alien like Superman!”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, kid. I’m not an alien or anything.”

Danny scampers off before the rest of the kids start getting ideas. 

He follows the fight as best he could in between aiding in civilian duty, and taking advantage of the chaos to switch up his disguises. It was rare for him to cross paths with a hero when he worked for the League of Shadows, so he was curious at how effective they were in a fight. He’d sifted through the League’s databases when he was younger so he had a basic idea of who the current big names were and their power sets, but it was nothing like watching them battle in real life. 

Superman, surprisingly, kept his distance during the fight. He used his heat vision, cryo-breath, and even resorted to just chucking massive pieces of debris at the robot to keep his distance. Wonderwoman and Green Lantern seem to be doing a lot of the heavy hitting up close, and he thinks he’d seen the Flash zipping around somewhere. 

The robot probably had a heavy stock of kryptonite on it, which means Lex Luthor.

Damn rich people.

The robot fired off two large shells of its weapon. The projectiles flew at high-speeds towards Superman— before suddenly changing course and homing towards…Danny? 

Oh Lex Luthor that bitch. 

Before Danny could even raise his own shields, Superman comes barreling in front of Danny and zipped him away as the shell impacted the earth. Superman let out a low whistle. “Well, that was a close one.”

The rounded shell suddenly popped open, releasing a cloud of green gas. Seconds later, more canisters lodged themselves in the ground around them, covering the intersection in a thick cloud of green smoke. And as if fate didn’t hate Danny enough, a strong wind blew the gas over towards them.

Superman toppled to the ground, doubled-over as he breathed in the gas. Aerosolized kryptonite? How fun.

A couple streets over, Danny starts seeing a bunch of smaller robots roaming around and causing chaos in the streets, further dividing the heroes’ attention.

Danny sighed. “You just had to jinx it, didn’t you?” 

Superman looked at him like he just grew a second head— which hadn’t happened in centuries mind you. Learning how to clone yourself is hard no matter how easy Vlad makes it look. “You need to get out of here,” he shouted between coughs. “It’s dangerous!”

That he actually contemplates leaving Superman here as a hoard of giant spider-robots was enough of a reason to make Danny stay. Those thoughts were the devil talking. And by the devil, he meant Ra’s. “Trust me when I say that you’re probably at the safest place you can be.” Danny slams his palm onto the ground. “By the way, you don’t need air to breathe, right?

“I— well, no, but what are you—?”

A single purposeful tug at his ghostly energy creates a dome of bright green light around them. Those years of solitude gave him enough time to experiment the extent of his powers, both in his ghost form and outside it. One of the very cool things he learned with shields is that he could manipulate the energy and permeability of the ectoplasm in such a way that he could create his very own little vacuum chamber inside. Which meant that he could suck all of the airborne kryptonite out of Superman’s radius. 

There would still be some kryptonite in his system, but at least he won’t be inhaling more of it.

The only downside of all of this is that Danny did have to fortify his own human lungs to be able to keep breathing. He was still technically walking around as a human right now.

“What in the—”

“Oh! Looks like back-up is coming.”

In the distance, the distinct shape of the batwing soars overhead, sending rounds and rounds of ammunition at Luthor’s robot.  There’s an explosion at its front, sending off a chain reaction as both of the machine’s arms are blown off. 

He takes his phone out of his pocket and dials a series of numbers right out of his head. (His phones had a tendency to break, so saving numbers just became too much of a hassle every time he had to get a new one.)

 The call picks up on the second ring. 

 “Hey Bats! Your little superfriend over here got gassed with some kryptonite.” At the corner of his eye, Danny just sees Superman mouth what in the world under his breath. No swearing? Really? Huh, must be the boy scout in him. “He’s safe, but I’d rather you take him off my hand before he starts asking questions.”

(His sharp hearing picks up Superman’s mumbled “I don’t even know what questions to start asking.”)

There’s a brief moment of silence on the other line, before he eventually hears a strangled sigh and a raspy “Copy that, just stay there. Don’t move.”

Danny hangs up and pockets his phone. “Welp, better hang tight Supes, because your knight in shining…kevlar? (I think it’s kevlar) is coming to pick you up soon.” He steps out of the dome he’d created, picking up a fallen metal baseball bat from the ground.

“Wait— ok, putting aside the fact that you somehow have the Batman’s phone number, I am 100% sure he told you to stay put.”

“Yeah, well…” He twirls the bat in his hand, thinking back to that one mobile game he’s been enjoying. “Rules are made to be broken.”

He takes a swing at the nearest spider robot, hard enough to dent the titanium skull. 

***

Ten minutes and thirty-something smashed robots later, Danny flagged down the Justice League to pick up their wayward companion. 

Superman—who begrudgingly stayed put inside the ecto-shield because a) he couldn’t leave, b) even if he could the kryptonite gas just refused to disperse, and c) the League looked like they were wrapping things up soon anyway—breathed a sigh of relief as Flash created a vortex that cleared the air. 

“Thanks, Flash.” And then turning to Danny, he flashed those pretty pearly whites and put out his hand to shake. “And thank you, too, for all your help. Though I don’t think I managed to catch your name there, son.”

Son, son, son. There was a time when Danny was newly born into this world where he flinched at the word, too unused to being called anyone’s son after his parents passed away. 

(At the ripe old age of 92, passing within seconds of the other because Jack and Maddie had been attached at the hip ever since they fell in love. Much to Danny’s surprise, a whole symposium of scientists came to attend his parents’ funeral. He’d always pictured his parents as the weird and kooky scientists no one outside of Amity took seriously. Sure, they revolutionized the entire world’s view of science and the afterlife and essentially found a way to make interdimensional travel possible, but they were his parents.)

(Jack: his dad who drove recklessly but always somehow avoided getting his license revoked, who made a fudge so delicious it could be classified as a sin, and who never failed to be there for Danny whenever he was down.)

(Maddie: his mom who knew a thousand ways to break someone’s bones with just a paperclip, but couldn't cook a single unburned or irradiated meal to save her life, who nurtured Danny’s love of space and helped him build his first flight module.)

(He loves Talia, he really does. She’s his mother, but Maddie and Jack were his mom and dad. Like he was first and foremost Danny Fenton, he has, and always will be, their son.)

Danny doesn’t flinch at the word now. 

It’s one word, and it’ll hold about as much meaning as he lets it.

He kicks the head of his bat off the ground and swings it to rest at his shoulder. “It’s no problem,” he says, completely ignoring Superman’s angling for his own name. “I was getting bored of sightseeing anyway.”

“Sightseeing?” Flash let out a laugh. “You must be fun at parties if your solution to getting bored is smashing robots into bits. Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve seen you before. New meta?”

Danny tilted his head to the side and shrugged, letting them interpret that answer however they wanted to. It was always fun seeing what people came up with to explain, well, him. 

“So this is your first time in Metropolis, then?” Superman asked, eyes narrowed. Not that Danny was thinking about it, wasn’t Superman’s day job a reporter or something? He could see the gears turning in the other’s mind, pulling out that proverbial red string on the corkboard to piece all his information together. “It’s…not exactly the best first impression of the city, but I’d like to welcome you anyway.”

Danny shook his hand firmly, but didn’t tap into his well of superhuman strength to make a point. “Well, might not be the best but it sure is the most exciting first impression I’ve had. It’s the first superhero fight I’ve seen this close, you know!” He didn’t know how much,if any, Superman already knew about him. And if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really know whether he cared if Superman investigated him or not.

It could go either way. Dany wasn’t a threat to Superman, and there really isn’t anything that Superman has that Danny would go to great lengths to fight for. Bruce had already given his permission to see Damian whenever he wanted. And with Danny’s own…let’s say semi-calculated heart-to-heart, Bruce was unlikely to change his mind about Danny anytime soon.

He’s learned a lot about public personas since his debut days as Phantom. Bruce was a sentimental person to the core. The paradigm of Danny being some lost, wayward child that was hesitant, but willing, to someday join the family was a hope too alluring to discard so easily.

(Danny didn’t lie when he told Bruce he was bad at planning in advance. But just because Danny’s bad at long-term plans, it doesn’t mean that he can’t capitalize and build on an advantage when he sees one. Call it the al Ghul in him. The Wayne in him, even.)

“Really?” Superman pressed. “I would’ve thought you’d seen plenty in Gotham.” “A Gothamite?” Flash perked, face suddenly inches away from Danny’s to get a closer look. Danny barely resists the urge to pat his face to check if his disguise was still on. “So he’s one of B’s kids? Strange, I don’t recognize this one. Unless he got a new one— which, y’know, is kinda par for the course here. But really where does he keep finding all of these kids?”

“I don’t find them. They find me.”

Flash nearly jumps ten feet in the air at the sound of Batman’s voice coming from behind him. “Jesus christ, Bats! Where did you come from?” 

Danny raised an eyebrow and pointed to the Batwing that’s been hovering above the skyline a little ways away from them. “You seriously didn’t see the giant fighter jet over there?”

“Well clearly not!”

Batman turns to Superman, business as usual. “Are you alright? Any lingering effects?”

“Oh just some weakness but it’ll be gone in a jiff. I got a lot of help from your…friend? Friend, over here.”

Batman grunts, looking Danny up and down for any injuries. There were none, of course. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Danny set the bat down on the ground, leaning his weight against it. “Got bored. Got curious. You know how I am when I’m curious.”

“Does your mother know that you’re here?”

Danny’s eyes widened. “She told you?”

Talia specifically requested that Danny not be sent on any missions in or near cities claimed by heroes. Specifically heroes with a strong connection to the Justice League. More than likely it was to deter Batman from finding out their connection to each other until the time was right, but when it comes to Talia, one could hardly say. 

Batman raised a brow. “So does she?”

“Of course she does. She always knows where I am even when I don’t tell her. Probably had me microchipped or something, I don’t know.”

Superman and Flash sent very concerned looks towards them. Danny waved off their concerns with a laugh. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. She doesn’t do that.” 

At least, Danny hoped Talia didn’t do that. There was an unnervingly high likelihood that Talia would have placed a tracker on him at some point, but Danny would rather not think about the possibility. Ignorance is its own form of bliss after all. 

Flash cups a hand to the side of his mouth and whispers to Superman. “I really feel like we’re missing out on something over here.”

Batman grunts again. He inclines his head at Danny. “Would you care to introduce yourself?”

Which brings Danny back to the dilemma he’s had since his rebirth: what name to go by. That’s the problem with having too many names; they can be attached to various distinct and overlapping identities that it’s difficult to choose which one is the best to go by. 

It’s nice to know that Batman wouldn’t dispute him if Danny decided to give a fake name.

Wayne was an immediate no go. He could already see it now: the shock, the surprise, the curiosity, and next thing you know within twenty-four hours the whole Justice League is knocking at his door to learn more about Batman’s new kid. Even if the sound of Danny Wayne didn’t make him uneasy, he still wouldn’t go for it. Yeah, no thanks.

Al Ghul would probably be closer to the truth, but it was a dangerous option to make. The League of Shadows were still a formidable group with a lot of enemies from both sides of the moral spectrum, and Danyal al Ghul had a reputation that would mark him as an enemy on sight, Bat or no Bat.

Which left Fenton as the safest option. It was an unknown name with no added complications. Hell, he didn’t even have to go by Danny if he still wanted some anonymity.

But…

It was one thing to use the name with strangers he’d never see again. Giving that name to people that were connected to him to some degree felt…exposing. He’s never even shared that name with Damian, and he’s closest to Damian out of anyone. 

Which left one option. 

Just fucking with them.

Danny gives an exaggerated bow. “The name’s Nathaniel Edward Mortimer Olysseus, at your service.” He winks. “Well, not for much longer now, anyway.” 

And then he drops a smoke bomb, leaving behind a confused Flash, and an equally amused Batman and Superman.

***

OMAKE:

It’s later on when The Flash is recounting the story to Wonder Woman—and by the small chuckle she gave at the name—did Flash realize the mystery man’s trick.

“Olysseus is one of the many variations of the Greek hero Odysseus,” Diana explained. 

Nathaniel Edward Mortimer Olysseus.

N.E.M.O.

Nobody.

Flash buried his face in his hands. “Can’t believe I fell for that. Should’ve known he wouldn’t say his actual name.”

Superman shrugged. “What can you expect? He’s a Bat.”

[agbpaints]

Getting back into the swing of doing paint tutorials- I pulled a Spider out of a salvage box and I figured I'd do a quick and dirty davion scheme! This is the parade paint job for the First Davion Guards, AKA quintessential battletech 'good' guy mechs.

Paints you will need:

Black primer

Dark grey (citadel mechanicus standard grey)

Light grey (citadel dawnstone)

Off white (army painter spaceship armor)

Red (citadel mephiston red)

Light blue (citadel baharroth blue)

Green (citadel warpstone glow)

Gun metal (citadel leadbelcher)

Silver (citadel rune fang steel)

Dark wash (citadel drakenhof nightshade)

Citadel akhelian green cintrast

Citadel blood angels red contrast

Things you might want

Khaki (citadel zandri dust)

Fleshy orange (citadel ratskin flesh)

White (army painter matt white)

Dark green (citadel Caribana green)

Light red (citadel evil sunz scarlet)

Yellow (citadel averland sunset)

Black (army painter matt black)

Citadel aggaros dunes contrast

I started by basing my mini with my normal desert badlands basing scheme (paint base in glue, sprinkle on basing sand and let cure. Paint on more glue and stick down some aquarium gravel) and then priming the whole thing black with brush-on primer.

Once the primer is finished drying, load some of your dark grey up on a fat drybrush, wipe off slightly less than most of the paint, and then apply the remainder to the model in long up and down strokes. All of the panels should be grey, with some black showing in crevices and hard to reach recesses of the model. Next, repeat this process with your light grey paint, but wipe off more and apply less liberally- you want the darker grey color to remain in most places with the edges and raised details highlighted in grey. Finally, drybrush the model one last time with your off-white color only in the areas that will catch the light most like the head, torso, shoulders, the vectoring fins on the mech's back, and the outstretched left knee.

Now that the mech has been presented in greyscale, we can make it blue. Akhelian green is going to be doing the majority of the heavy lifting in this paint scheme- I find it to be a pretty easy contrast paint to work with. Apply it undiluted to the model, looking to spread it in a single coat like a thick wash, and then leave it to dry for 20 minutes. Afterwards, you might want to brighten the blue up in places as I did- drybrush on some light blue in the same areas you used off-white earlier.

At this point, I got a little excited and decided to do the Davion stripes. Start with your red, pretty well thinned on your palet, and a thin detail brush. To make this easy on ourselves, we're going to look for vertical panels on the left side of the mech's torso and leg and basically connect all of those with a straight line. In the case of the Spider, the easy ones are the shoulder and that panel that runs down the upper thigh. Apply a thin edge highlight of red along those panels and then carefully continue the line down the rest of the leg, terminating at the ankle. If your hand is steady enough, run a thin line of red around the mech's ankle where the vertical line ends. Then, go back with your off-white and using the red line you made already as a guide, run a parallel stripe down the outside edge of the red (if you swap these battletech nerds will dunk on you online).

At this point, I also striped the ridge running down the Spider's helmet, but it's not super necessary.

Now that we've got our blue sorted out, we've got a bit of a 'draw the rest of the owl' step. First, you're going to want to go back over any of the parts of the model that you want to be exposed mechanical elements with your dark grey. I painted the joints in the legs, the shoulders, the lasers and the big vent on the chest, the 'chin strap' under the spider's canopy glass, and the jump jets in this color. Then, wash the grey with your favorite dark wash- I really like the deep blue of drakenhof nightshade but something like nuln oil will also work well for this. Finally, apply a light drybrush of your light grey to the shaded grey. If a part is too recessed to easily drybrush, you can leave it as is or do use a small brush to carefully highlight it. You should also add a small dot of green to the inside of each of the laser barrels at this point.

Next, paint the mech's canopy glass silver. Once that's dry, paint over the silver with blood angels red or any other colorful contrast paint for a vibrant metallic color.

If you're following along with my desert basing, paint the sand on the base khaki and the larger pebbles with your fleshy orange. Then paint over everything with agarros dunes contrast or a dark brown wash like agrax earthshade.

And with that you have a Spider that's fully ready for tabletop with 3 colors, shading, and a textured base. There's still a couple more things we can do if you have more time and patience that I'll detail below.

To apply some quick and dirty jeweling to the lasers, start by painting a half circle of light green on each barrel, focused on one of the bottom corners. Paint the recess of the barrel with a dot of dark green and put a tiny little dot of white opposite the half circle of green, which should now be more of a crescent shape with with dark spot in the center.

While the white is still in your pallet, you can also highlight the parts of the off white stripes on the mech most exposed to overhead light like the lower thigh, knee, and shoulder. Do the same thing with the red stripe using a light red as well.

At this point I also added unit numbering to the mech's shoulder. Basic numbers are a really good way to practice your fine control and I try to consistently add a couple to each of my projects. Use your off-white well thinned and a fine detail brush, lock your hand holding the model against your hand holding the brush just below the wrists, and then draw the paintbrush 'downwards' with a pulling motion. This should keep you your line relatively straight and fine.

While you can keep the jump jets on your mech dark I prefer to paint mine with some orange in them. Using the fleshy orange from earlier, paint most of the interior of each jump jet, then add a dot of yellow at the very deepest recess of each one.

Finally, let's add some hazard stripes to the mech. Pick out a few areas near joints or vents that seem like a bad place for an Astech's hand to go and paint in a thick 'edge highlight' of black. Then, going back to yellow find the center of the line and add a diagonal tickmark there. You may need to go over this more than twice to get a strong color depending on your yellow. Once your centerline is marked, work out towards the edges, painting another ticmark at regular intervals until you hit the ends of the Black.

[ricletaylor]

Pick A Card ~ Hobbies Edition

Disclaimer: This is for fun not for serious consideration!

I decided to chose violence today in the form of 16 piles. But don't fret! There are 4 sections of 4 different piles, chose one each section or some/more but you can of course choose all or none 😁🥺

Pick from left to right!

Section 1 - Hobbies to do once in a while (1-4)

Section 2 - Hobbies to do most frequently (5-8)

Section 3 - Hobbies to consider with others (9-12)

Section 4* - Hobbies to probably avoid (12-16)

Photos taken on Pinterest under the keywords "Hobbies aesthetic/s" & Collaged from Canva

* For section 4 I'm not advising you to stop or not do those specific hobbies, it's just intuitively your better off not focusing your life around them :))

Pile 1 - Photos

Photography, Travel, Cloud Watching, Museums, Astronomy

Pile 2 - Cooking

Cooking, Foraging, Decluttering, Woodworking, Natural Dye

Pile 3 - Painting

Painting, Paintball, Digital Art, Writing, Tie Dye

Pile 4 - Plants

Gardening, Camping, Scrapbooking, Henna, Massage

Pile 5 - Video Games

Gaming, Martial Arts, Laser Tag, Airsoft, Trampoline Park

Pile 6 - Playing Cards

Card Games, Origami, Handball, Robotics, Comedy Clubs

Pile 7 - Knitting

Knitting, Board Games, Sewing, Sculpting, String Art

Pile 8 - Archery

Archery, Puzzles, Escape Rooms, Carnivals, Paper Making

Pile 9 - Fencing

Fencing, Parkour, Gymnastics, Dirt Bike Riding, Kendama

Pile 10 - Reading

Reading, Volunteering, Thrifting, Improv, Meal Planning

Pile 11 - Rock Painting

Rock Painting, Candle Making, Maze Visiting, Parades, Indoor Skydiving

Pile 12 - Baking

Baking, Interior Design, Geography, Chalk Art, Musical Theater

Pile 13 - Music

Xylophone, Collections, Auctions, Flying a Drone, Cross-Stitch

Pile 14 - Chess

Chess, Swimming, Paragliding, Juggling, Kayaking

Pile 15 - Design

Graphic Design, Embroidery, Darts, Road Trip, Water Sports

Pile 16 - Pottery

Ceramics, Safari's, Basket Weaving, Fasting, Mosaic's

[slocumjoe]

Would you be interested in writing companions react to the random event where a ufo crashes nearby and the subsequent alien discovery? Thank you for all the fun headcanons

Companions and the Literal Alien Thats Just Chilling Down The Road From Oberland Station Like Its Waiting For Its DoorDasher

Cait; This, like...takes a nuke to her very soul. It wipes everything she is, knows, thinks, away, and Cait becomes clay in that moment, a wealth of possibilities. She might turn to religion, she might become a cannibal. This is a lot to process...Cait's usual method of processing Significant Shit is chems. Can't do that anymore...cult it is.

Codsworth; So long as the alien doesn't die...will politely ignore its existence, feign ignorance. If it dies/is killed, Earth is doomed and the Martians are coming for us all to avenge their kin.

Curie; GET THAT GREEN BITCH IN A LAB IMMEDIATELY. Curie, sweet little Curie, throws all compassion to the ground and grinds it beneath her heel, before lunging at any opportunity to study this thing. She'd put it in a potato sack and drag it if she had to. "But she's a soft uwu baby!" Curie likes Covenant, motherfucker, E.T over here is done for.

Danse; It's big, it's green. He thinks it's a Super Mutant and shoots on sight. Just as he sees what he's shooting at, sees that no, this is nothing from Earth, nothing from the Wasteland, and realizes this thing needs to be communicated with, studied, understood...his laser rifle turns the alien to ash, effectively destroying any evidence of its existence. Crumples to the ground and screams.

DEACON; GET THAT GREEN BITCH AWAY FROM TINKER TOM IMMEDIATELY. Tom would never function right, again. Deacon isn't even freaking out about the alien, he's thinking of Tom, poor Tom, who they all spent years teasing for being a tinfoil wearing nutcase. But he was right, he's always been right, what else is he right about? What would he do, knowing that, yeah, there just might be a ghost haunting his one good sock? Tom can't know.

Gage; Turns around, never reacts, never speaks of it, will try to gaslight any other witnesses and he'll fucking succeed. You could have had that thing suck your dick, Gage will gaslight you until you think you just got real intimate with Oberland Station's melon patch. Doesn't want to fuck with that in any capacity. Didn't happen, doesn't exist. Gets a fear of shooting stars.

Hancock; Freezes. If he's alone, will likely unmoving until the alien has moved on or died of its injuries. If with someone else, looks back and forth between them and the honest to God fucking...that thing. What...what does he do here? Walk away? Walk away sounds great. He'd like to, but unfortunately, his knees have locked up like a Whole Foods when there's a gluten containment breach. Later, it hits and...kinda slides off. Oh. Aliens. I'm going to...not think about that.

MacCready; Kid on Christmas. He remembers what he saw and heard of in the Capital Wasteland, and now there's a smoking gun right in front of him. Will gauge if it looks friendly, tries to approach, gets shot at, has to kill it. If MacCready finds this thing, he's parading the corpse around the wasteland like a circus freak show. Fuck secrecy, what are the wastelanders gonna do, build a rocket and colonize Mars? The rich people probably already did that just before the bombs, anyway.

Nick; Ping-pongs between "get the fuck out of here" and "...seems hurt, don't he?" Like MacCready, would want to try and make peace, if only to give it a stimpak, but...it has some kind of gun. It's probably not friendly. Okay. We're gonna leave, and not talk about this, but we'll check back to see what happens. The alien isn't there. Nick now has to hunt this thing down before it starts freaking people out, because people can't be trusted to behave around something out of the ordinary. As for the realization that aliens are real? Eh...space is so big, they had to be, right?

Piper; Torn between her reporter instincts and her desire to not be the one to deal with this. Aliens are real. Do I have a duty to tell people? They wouldn't believe me, it'd be a waste of time. Do I have a duty to bring this thing back, at any cost, just to prove that it exists? That's not fair to the alien. Does that matter? By the time she's made her decision, the alien has already ran off.

Preston; Chalks it up to sleep deprivation. If there isn't another person with him who sees it, straight up thinks he's seeing things and goes back to doing whatever he was doing. The power of denial cannot be underestimated. If he is with another witness...goes the route of trying to offer it a stimpak, gets shot at, and...much like Danse...his laser musket makes it all go poof. Turns around, claps the other witness on the shoulder. Declares that they're both seeing things. It's clearly not a suggestion.

X6-88; Tackles it and hauls it back to the Institute, no matter the cost. Doesn't even blink. If there's no Institute...curses whatever else might be Up There that the one organization that could have gotten answers got pancaked. No, the Brotherhood isn't a viable solution, they'd just kill it for being an abomination and throw it in a ditch somewhere. As for aliens being real...okay? There are immortals (ghouls) and immortals who can bring other immortals back from the dead (glowing ghouls). That's weirder to him.

[wealmostaneckbeard]

Lancer: Hostile Forces

Here are 3 unrelated factions (each consisting of 3 units) for the mecha/pliot table-top role playing game Lancer:

1. Voidborn Oppressors

They used to be humble spaceship salvagers during the war between worlds. Once the war was over, they found themselves to have more military assets than the surviving planet-bound nations. And so they've leveraged their power to regulate all trade and politics across the entire solar system. Anyone who shows defiance to their authority will be crushed with disproportionate force.

Demolisher + Pirate = Wreck Mistress

During the war, arguments over salvage rights were typically resolved in favor of whoever had a Wreck Mistress. It is an intimidating machine traditionally piloted by a cold woman. It incorporates the most terrifying weapons-tech from the war: Slaver Signal, Demolition Hammer, Coreworm Rockets, Seismic Destroyer. These mechs are passed down from mother to favored daughter. Wreck Mistresses were used during the subjugation of planetary nations to butcher both mechs and their pilots in grisly spectacle.

Scourer + Commander = Las-Boss

Using a mecha-scaled laser cutter to disassemble military cruisers requires a steady hand and a keen mind. One miscalculation or twitch of the controls could result in a small nuke going off. During the war there was always demand for a "lascut specialist" for the previously stated reasons. Those who survived long enough in the profession would earn legions of followers and the best berths in any station. These wartime scrap-stars are now looking for opportunities to prove they are still just as hot as their instruments, prior to cooling. They may be accompanied by a Squad or a couple of Assault Grunts serving as groupie-bodyguards. A Las-boss must have the Melt optional system and the Military Discipline trait.

Assassin + Spacer = Boarder

The Boarder MK.I was a standardized powered exoskeleton designed for high mobility and dirty close quarters combat. It's pilots would typically use Thumper Grenades to disable targets, Leap to close the gap, and a Heated Blade to finish them off. The Mk. II was designed for combat on planet surfaces and operating alongside Wreck Mistresses. This new version of the Boarder was equipped with a Gravity Rifle (much needed ranged firepower) and Kai Bioplating (maintaining it's mobility within a gravity well). The MK. III addresses the fact that Boarders were being destroyed by being out-ranged or out-gunned, and so it features a two-fold solution. The Assassin's Mark would give the Boarder some protection from a single attacker. And a Cloud Projector would give it the ability to dodge fire from multiple attackers. During protests against the Voidborn, effigies of Boarders are set on fire and paraded around.

2. Radiovore Colony

These organisms are like a cross between bombardier beetles and nudibranchs, scaled to megafauna sizes. Radiovores naturally produce hyper-reactive chemical substances that they use for a variety of purposes. They are able to do this because they feed on rare metals and radioactive materials which gives them the necessary mutations. Their diet puts them at odds with human mining colonies pursuing the same resources. Both the Nester and the Suitor have the Regenerator and Living Chassis traits from the Exotic template.

Monstrosity = Progeny

Casually classified as being old enough to leave their nest but not mutated yet. They have claws, a corrosive bite, and acid spittle attacks. Progeny use hit and run tactics on prey, while threats are safely melted from a distance. There doesn't seem to be a limit to how old a Progeny can get, ancient ones gain the Regenerator trait.

Pyro + Exotic = Nester

When a Progeny finds high quantities of mutation-inducing materials in a defensible nest, it will become a bloated Nester. It's acid spitting gland becomes a shorter range flamethrower. They use an ability similar to the FIREBREAK Shield to protect their eggs and Progeny. After mating with a Suitor, the nester will start to lay eggs. Radiovore nests filled with eggs generate so much heat they are practically kilns. Nesters have to have burn immunity and the ability to disperse heat in order to survive. As they get near the end of their lives, an old Nester will form a hardened shell (siege armor) over their body.

Seeder + Exotic = Suitor

Progeny that have left their nests, have found low quantities of radioactive material but little shelter, turn into Suitors. These Radiovores spend their time building biomechanical bombs with different kinds of yields and payloads for multiple purposes. At first their explosives are used for the creation of nests and exploratory mining operations. Once a Progeny has taken over a nest and become a Nester, the Suitor's bombs are then used in a courting ritual. The Nester will only mate with a Suitor who presents bombs that are highest-yield/least-stable. To minimize damage, Nesters will instinctively drive suitors far away from the nest. The Suitor has to make and transport their explosives from these remote locations. They may test out delivery routes to a nest with Stun, Sealant, or Shock Mines first before upgrading to the Explosive type. Wait long enough and an exterminator can follow a Suitor back to their nest, but actually tracking it (even in low flying aircraft) can be incredibly risky.

3. First Strike Team

Long range nuclear missiles, "Super-Hacker" NHPs, TBK bioweapon suites. All these human-made horrors need time to arm, aim, and launch. First Strike Teams can neutralize these threats to national security within that prep phase, if deployed accurately and correctly. Because of that big if, FSTs are maintained and commanded by covert intelligence bureaus, to ensure an uninterrupted flow of reliable target data. These teams are subject to less scrutiny than the superweapons they hunt and are only beholden to a bureau's director. Because of this, FSTs are viewed with suspicion by everyone who knows about them. When deployed to a target location, an FST is a frantic collective because they know they've only got minutes to save their world.

Mirage + Ship = Blink-Boat

The purpose of this ship is to get a Ground Team as close as possible to their targets. Blink-boats can teleport from their launch pad to anywhere within a half-lightyear but after that they can only make shorter jumps. That's when their secondary stealth functions are used, to protect itself and passengers from any immediate attacks by defensive. Given how delicate and experimental they are, Blink-boats do not carry any conventional weapons that can backfire on itself. There has been some speculation about what might happen if a blink-boat's launch-pad jump was sabotaged.

Squad = Ground Team

GTs will not leave their blink-boat until they are exactly where they should be. Once deployed, they will overwhelm hostile security with superior numbers and firepower. They are given all kinds of equipment and training depending on which target they are supposed to disable. The gear can range from breaching charges and system hacking tools to 3D maneuvering gear and heavy body armor.

Ace + RPV = Escorters

Durability, mobility, and firepower, these are the three virtues of the Escorter remote piloted vehicle. They deploy and spread out from the underbelly of the Blink-Boat after it has arrived in a target location. These robots will take the hits (which they will occasionally dodge thanks to Barrel Roll) that the rest of the FST cannot. This miraculous semi-autonomous weapon design comes at a horrible cost: Escorters are absurdly vulnerable to electronic warfare. However if one of them was hacked so thoroughly that it fired on the rest of the FST, the blink-boat's e-warfare suite would be able to keep the rest of the team safe.

[floridaboiler]

Things I learned from the movies:

1. If being chased through town, you can usually take cover in a passing St Patrick's Day parade - at any time of the year.

2. All beds have special L-shaped top sheets that reach up to armpit level on a woman but only waist level on the man lying beside her.

3. All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.

4. Once applied, lipstick will never rub off - even while scuba diving.

5. The ventilation system of any building is a perfect hiding place. No one will ever think of looking for you in there and you can travel to any other part of the building without difficulty.

6. Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language. A German accent will do.

7. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window of any building in Paris.

8. A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.

9. When paying for a taxi, never look at your wallet as you take out a note - just grab one at random and hand it over. It will always be the exact fare.

10. If you lose a hand, it will cause the stump of your arm to grow by 15cm.

11. Mothers routinely cook eggs, bacon and waffles for their family every morning, even though the husband and children never have time to eat them.

12. Cars and trucks that crash will almost always burst into flames.

13. A single match will be sufficient to light up a room the size of a football stadium.

14. Medieval peasants had perfect teeth.

15. All single women have a cat.

16. Any person waking from a nightmare will sit bolt upright and pant.

17. One man shooting at 20 men has a better chance of killing them all than 20 men firing at one.

18. Creepy music coming from a graveyard should always be closely investigated.

19. Most people keep a scrapbook of newspaper cuttings - especially if any of their family or friends has died in a strange boating accident.

20. It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involved martial arts - your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around in a threatening manner until you have knocked out their predecessor.

21. During a very emotional confrontation, instead of facing the person you are speaking to, it is customary to stand behind them and talk to their back.

22. When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your room will still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish.

23. Dogs always know who's bad and will naturally bark at them.

24. When they are alone, all foreigners prefer to speak English to each other.

25. Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their arch-enemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems, deadly gases, lasers and man eating sharks that will allow their captives at least 20 minutes to escape.

26. Having a job of any kind will make all fathers forget their son's eighth birthday.

27. Many musical instruments - especially wind instruments and accordions - can be played without moving the fingers.

28. All bombs are fitted with electronic timing devices with large red readouts so you know exactly when they're going to go off.

29. It is always possible to park directly outside the building you are visiting.

30. A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.

31. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into will know all the steps.