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ellilyre · 1 month

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I finished ToA not long ago and I wanted to write down some thoughts/scenes that stick with me

(in chronological (ish) order, watch out for spoilers)

Theres an italian girl at camp ! It means Nico gets to practice and speak italian ! (which probably haven't happened in about 70 years)

Will introducing Nico as "my boyfriend". I already knew they would be canon, but reading that line felt weird /pos

Apollo sees Solangelo and think of himself and Hyacinth

That night when Kayla and Austin disappeared and Apollo left to look for them, it probably was the first night Will ever spent alone in his cabin

Apollo's insane body dysmorphia. He's a god, he can always take the physical form he is the most comfortable and confident in... Until now. He is stuck in a body that isn't his, he feels ashamed, when he sees certain traits in others he find them charming or pretty, but when it's on him then it's disgusting. He complain that everything is this body's fault (ex. he wouldn't have been touched by the Eurynomos if it wasn't for his chub.)(I could go on for hours)

Lityerses ! I love that guy. Idk why i love him that much. He is my best guy.

Apollo's reaction to Commodus' name. His flashback of him. So painful he was physically sick.

Apollo talking Helios out of killing them, because he just want to be free, not to hurt them.

APOLLO ATTEMPT TO KHS TO STOP THEM ?? IM A SUCKER FOR SOME GOOD PAINFUL SELF SACRIFICE.

Jason. I'm not talking about Jason. I can't speak about Jason.

Frank and Apollo ! They are so fond of each other !!!

Apollo heard all of Frank's prayers when he was unclaimed and wished he could've adopted him.

And Frank respecting Apollo as a god although he is *vaguely gesture at Apollo/Lester*

Reyna saying aloud that she doesn't want nor needs romance. It's so rare to see aromantic representation and Rick did it so well.

Literally Apollo singing his way out of situations.

FRANK'S SELF SACRIFICE!!! (He already had one of my favorite character development before that)

APOLLO KILLING COMMODUS ??? why do never talk about that it's one of the best deaths I've ever seen that was BADASS AND FULL OF EMOTIONS.

Apollo slowly dying out of poison and the Dodona Arrow doing everything it can to keep him conscious.

I hope Dakota didn't get killed off just to give Lavinia the role of Centurion. I love my boy Dakota, and his death felt kind of meaningless, except for her rank up :/ also i feel like it doesn't suit Lavinia. Some ppl are strong and good and trustable but just not made to order others. (ill prop make a full post about that)

Dionysos confirmed to be an annoying little brother!

Nico. How does Rick manage to always give him more issues. Leave the kid alone.

When Will glows, Apollo is genuinely impressed and tells him how proud he is.

Nico destroying Nero's door with his giant zombie bull. That was cool.

When Apollo gets stabbed in Nero's tower and think it's the end, he prays "Zeus, Artemis, Leto, anyone"

And in general the few parts he talks about Leto, he's such a momma's boy and I love it.

When Apollo left for Delphi... I was fully expecting Meg to go with him. I was so worried that he went alone while already feeling that weakened from the previous events.

DODONA ARROW. FOREVER IN MY HEART.

Artemis is here when Apollo wakes up. She's by his side, she's the first person to tell him he succeeded, she hold him while he sobs...

The first thing he does is to greet his horses :) and then to see his friends.

When he gets back to the Dodona bush ! To tell them all how brave and heroic the Arrow have been !

I could spend hours talking about the character developments of Apollo, Meg and the Dodona Arrow (i love the arrow so much you have no idea) but its for another day

There's many things I didn't talk about, but the post is already long enough. I love those 5 books, and Apollo is an amazing narrator.

I love the Arrow of Dodona with all my heart.

#when ill finish tsats ill maybe make the same kind of post #writing down all my most memorable thoughts #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo #nico di angelo #will solace #trials of apollo #apollo pjo #toa #meg mccaffrey #frank zhang

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hematomes · 1 year

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If youre still doing the ask (had like 4 job interviews today. Got the job hurray !) If youd like the sad cat tm xiao (hes just. Idk. The wettest cat i know )

OMG OMG CONGRATS ON THE JOB HONEY KISSES UR FOREHEAD WAHHHH

Sexuality Headcanon: GAYASS !!!!!! also aspec :]

Gender Headcanon: MHMHMHMH id say on the non-binary spectrum but his conception of gender is like "?"

A ship I have with said character: XIAOVENTHER!!!! APOLLO HELIOS AND ICARUS!!!!!!! and also xiaother alone bc it's chef's kiss and he's so flustered yet vulnerable and hHAVXJZK

A BROTP I have with said character: ZHONGLI/+! +++ GANYU!!!! BENNY BOY!!! BEDO!!!!!! ALSO VENTI

A NOTP I have with said character: w the other yakshas bc i like their family dynamic too much and also xiao's been through enough angst i can't handle a dead lover

A random headcanon: he likes singing when he's alone and overwhelmed bc it grounds him

General Opinion over said character: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN. he is the light of my life the yee to my haw ive been maining him for close to two years been in love for more and he's never disappointed me i am constantly discovering or rediscovering new stuff abt him he has one of the best lore and i. i. SOBS

#— answered #— psychic nura

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sleep-deprived-lesbian · 2 years

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Pssst- Hey, just passed here to tell you about my two kids: Helios and Apollo.

They're my cats, Helios was born before Apollo, he's 1 year older and i rescued Apollo. They're both orange, which is why the look like siblings, which is why i named them Helios and Apollo.

Recently, about a week, Helios got sick and went to sleep- The next morning i found him panting and unable to move, he was bitten by a snake somehow and the venom of the snake almost killed him, rushed to the veterinarian and he did everything he could to save Helios, and he was saved.

However, there was a price- He won't ever be able to walk like he did, Helios was born sick (And don't know with what, but he was always physically weak and quiet, every original sibling of him died within a month of their birth and i don't know why or how- They didn't show any weakness like he did, but they all died) so now he has lost the strength of his front paws and the ability to properly walk without falling or hurting himself, which is why i plan on getting him a wheelchair in the future 'cause I'm not well in money now (I am not asking to raise money for me, this isn't me giving a sob story to get money out of people- I don't want it, mostly because Helios is fine nowadays, I have his meds and I've been giving him them every day) but i know Apollo loves Helios so much

They used to play together all the time, now they sleep together. I truly believed Helios was going to die, but he miraculously survived-

(Fun Fact: Helios loves when i sing, he purrs really loud when i do, so on the way to the veterinarian i sang to keep him calm- He hates goingbto the vet. I sang "You Are My Sunshine" to him because it is his favorite song, I remember singing it to him when he was a weak kitty that i thought was going to die the very next morning due to his weak body or a random sickness. I truly love them- They're like my sons, I'd do anything for them)

i was on the edge of my seat thank god the precious boy is ok i love them

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rebelliouslala · 3 years

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4 Something

warnings- character death, language, cult like behavior, angst

word count- 1.7k

You had been introduced to everyone, but to be honest, you felt as if you could not memorize the men you had just met.

To be fair, there were 16 other men.

Selen was the eldest, and therefore the elder brother figure of the entire Pound. Mouse was the youngest. He was an “intern” at the Dream Gems. He sat next to Chenle, and whispered to him quietly in Korean. He looked so small in this gang. You assumed he had to join when he was possibly younger than you became a member in the Ripple.

Selen had made you meet the others, and even repeat their names. Victory sighed as he endured everyone hugging him and strangely calling him Orpheus. Selen, surprisingly, went quick. With each snap of his fingers, as if it were the 1920’s, he pointed and named.

Your head spun with the names; You only went by small descriptions to memorize each man. And even then, you had no idea. Osaka, or Herac was sitting next to a lean man, Zeus. This man was lanky, but smiled widely and laughed as he sang.

The one that Johnny sat next to, with his statuesque face was Aphrodite. He was breathtaking. Gogo- Hermes, was faced away from a very energetic boy, with feathery hair, Helios. You looked at another man, with a pinched nose, named Athene. Selen sat next to him. You stared at him, and he nodded at you silently.

And in this room, Johnny was not even referred to his name, his English nor Korean, but as Ares. You held his hand under the table.

“So, Eos has made this, Psy is their name, as a new spy. Now, Athene will make the plan.” Selen said loudly.

The man mentioned nodded, before he did a double take. “What? Hyung—?”

“Eos orders.”

Athene blinked, and he stood up, quietly kicking you.

“OW.” You stated with disgust, glaring up.

“Oh! Pardon me, would you mind punching Selen?” Athene said like a gent.

There was an ahem. The man who made the noise placed his hands under his chin. “Continue, Athene.” Aphrodite said with a coolness.

The other man sighed quietly, but he got out a scroll. It was curled, but he laid it out so everyone can see. Yuta -you didn’t even want to try to remember his name-, helped it keep it open with his elbow, and another boy who was introduced as Songbird, who smiled up at Athene.

Athene now read loudly, “My fellow Gods, demigods and mortals; we invite a new, fellow mortal by the name of Psy. They have a chance to take down our enemy. Because of this, all business is now closed. We will be quiet and we will,” Athene leaned closer, muttering to himself in Korean, “We will now not be active. Herac, Dolphin, Psy and Ares, shall all go to the West Side and take the corrupt Ripple down. Any news from our spies will be delivered by Songbird and Orpheus.” Athene sighed as he pulled away, “With Godspeed, Eos.”

You hid your smirk at his flat tone. Perhaps Eos was too much of a narcissist to even realize his team was much too sick of his dramatics.

Athene pulled the scroll back, and he blinked. “Any questions?”

“Yeah.” You crossed your arms, “Is Eos okay?”

Aphrodite scoffed and he looked at you through his lashes. The other men, including Selen, scoffed and harrumphed at your response.

“Well don’t look at me like I’m some sort of goon.” You stood up. “You all might’ve thought the same.”

“Eos,” said the young man you saw training earlier, you believe his name was Achilles, “Is a God among us. I am lucky to be seen as a demigod—,”

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed Johnny’s shoulder, and whispered loudly, “What a cult, am I right?”

“Psy,” he whispered with guilt.

You turned, and sighed, holding the bridge of your nose as you looked upon everything. The shining waxed table. The white suits everyone wore. Their stares. How they all looked down.

“I’m going to take down the Ripple my way. Chenle—,”

“He is known as Dolphin!” Orpheus, started.

“Not another word out of your mouth.” You glared at him, before turning away, gently tapping Johnny.

He sounded worried. You’re already in enough shit. You should be dead. More than ever in this situation. With Eos. This is the worst scenario and your best friend didn’t know how to act. You held his hand tightly above the table and smiled.

“Let’s go. I will contact Ch- Dolphin, with updates. And or, Victory- Orpehus.” You giggled as Johnny stood up with you.

“Then Godspeed,” Helios said to you calmly.

“God damn,” you replied with a smirk, and pull your friend out as the others daggered your back with judgement.

And another, foreign dagger stared above the table, witnessing every single move you had just made.

The funeral was that. A funeral.

Nothing prepared you for the pain you felt staring at Yangyang’s body. His face was still, no smile, and he was so, so pale. Unlike the photo that was next to him. It was only from a few days ago. He was grinning. Laughing. It was with Mr. Money and Sushi, but they were edited out.

His real name was read out in multiple languages. From German, Chinese, Korean, English. It read the same. Liu “Dreamer” Yangyang. Friend. Son. Brother.

You gripped onto Johnny, and looked up at his eyes, trying to find his warmth. It had to be. It was supposed to be. Impossible. It had to be.

Johnny sighed quietly as his lips contorted, before he finally grabbed onto the words. “D-Do you remember how Dreamer always knew what you wanted for your birthday? And how he always shared with us the photos of Louis and Leon?”

A hot tear escaped your eye, as you hid in his huge chest and nodded. You nodded frantically as you began to sob. Johnny’s big hands held you, and he placed his chin on you, sighing quietly again.

The plan was ruined. You lost the man who should be here and hugging you and Johnny before you both went on a cruise to Korea, and then after that, the world.

You let go to breathe, biting the inside of your cheeks with anger. Your gaze turned to Victory’s tears, and Sushi looking at the youngest member’s body

His face reminded you, strongly of how you were young once. Running away and living with Johnny out on the streets of Baise. You had only one television, the news, and that broadcast that evening was of a grown woman crying, over and over in Taiwanese, “WHERE IS MY SON? WHO TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME?”

His eyes shared the same pain.

“Psy.” You turned as Mr. Money hugged you. Embraced you. He hid in you. “I-I can’t we could’ve lost you too. And John, we- fuck.”

Osaka was in the corner, looking down as he stared at the Ripple mourn.

Once Mr. Money had released himself, you stared at Jewel letting Smalls and Henry hug him tightly. Jewel despised any touching.

The fierce, cunning man, couldn’t even look what is inside the coffin. He only held the two now youngest members close to his heart.

Your hands gripped, nails digging to your palms. Now this was something you couldn’t take. The Pound may have you and Johnny’s lives on a string. But nothing could describe your frustration, to Sicheng. Victory. Whatever his name was.

To Yuta himself.

Osaka got up from his place on the wall, and he strutted himself to the coffin. He peaked over.

Today, the man wore not the white cult suit from the Pound, but a simple, and dull outfit. He took off his grey jacket, his white shirt bulging out oddly, as his black shoes, matching his black suit pants, had rubbed against the table that Dreamer was placed upon.

“He knew.”

Everyone turned to the man. Osaka took a katana from inside his shirt, and now the cloth hugged him. The weapon had a sky blue diamond handle. The blade itself was an opaque diamond. Osaka placed it in Dreamer’s hands.

Jewel stopped him, gripping it and he glared at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I thought perhaps—,”

Jewel grabbed it with both hands, and he threw back into Osaka’s chest, stepping forward. “You don’t touch his body. You don’t look at it. What the fuck happened there.”

“John already explained,” Smalls tried to explain.

“No, bullshit. John is a nice guy. We don’t even fuckin’ know Osaka- in fact. It seems his Japanese is a little shaky.” Jewel pushed Osaka now, speaking in Japanese quickly, with poison. Your ears weren’t the best in the language, but he did say something along the lines of, “Speak now or hold your peace, bitch.”

Osaka took the blows from Jewel. But he looked up. “We were all ambushed by Dream Gems. You know that they work under the Pound. We believe Chenle—,”

“BBall.” Mr. Money held his cane and separated the men.

“Listen. I’m sorry. I wanted to pay my respects—,” Osaka tried to reason.

“YOU DONT DO SHIT HERE!” Jewel roared, his eyes glowing with anguish. “YOU GOT HIM KILLED!”

“He’s not dead.” You said.

Everyone turned.

“Really? He’s okay? Di-,” Sushi started.

“He’s in a very deep, deep coma.” You slowly take your hand back, and put it in your pockets.

Henry teared up, hugging Smalls, “G-Good.”

“That doesn’t mean shit. Yuta needs to be investigated. On our last and final mission all of the sudden it goes wrong?” Jewel said as he glared at Osaka from the side of his eye.

“Then let’s attack The Pound.”

Johnny held your arm and gently pressed four times.

What.

Are.

You.

Doing.

“We need to make the Pound pay for what they did. And if Osaka isn’t bad, he’ll help.” You look at Osaka. “Won’t you?”

Osaka’s cold face suddenly melted to the side as he leans on a hip and he raised a brow, his smirk curving out as he said, almost naturally, “Perhaps I will for ya, doll.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Who should go with us?”

“Gogo. He’s reliable, after all he’s known Sushi for a long time too, hasn’t he?”

The big man nodded. “Yeah.”

You look at everyone. You planned for a bigger plan. A bigger dramatic. But that’s the Pound’s job. Right now, a plan, quite without common sense, was forming.

And the goal is was for you, and Johnny to be safe.

“For the Dreamer.” You said firmly.

“For the end.” The Ripple echoed back.

#nct #nct 127 angst #nct imagines #nct 127 #yuta angst #johnny angst #wayv angst #dee writes #4 Something

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luverofralts · 3 years

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Post Arkhelios

Adam stayed by his nephew’s side as long as he was allowed. He hadn’t been allowed in the operating room, but there was no removing him from the recovery area.

The bullet had gone clean through Roman’s chest, so fortunately there was nothing to remove, and once the bullet was found, it could easily be compared to the one that had killed Abraham Helios. Roman had lost a lot of blood, and there was still considerable damage caused by the bullet, but everyone agreed that he’d likely recover from this attack. Malika had stumbled upon him in just enough time to save him.

Malika had been equally difficult to remove from the recovery area. Adam at least had staff privileges, while Malika was in the recovery area by sheer force of will. No one dared escort her out when she was that intense about staying. The hospital hadn’t really hired any security in the past decade since their previous most serious case had been Zane Hydes eating fifty grilled cheese sandwiches in one night and becoming quite ill from it. They’d never needed security to take on family members overstepping proper procedures before. At least both Wanda and Salem were directly impacted by Roman’s shooting, and probably would approve any budget increase the hospital asked for.

There had been another positive change caused by the shooting. Malika had actually embraced her son Adam, and he may have been hallucinating it, but he thought he may have heard her whisper that she was proud of him. After years of her being indifferent at best towards him, Adam wasn’t sure he knew how to process this sudden display of maternal praise.

Omar and Kamalani were so beside themselves with worry, they didn’t even bicker with each other as they sat next to their unconscious son. Omar left his spouses and kids at home for obvious reasons, but Wbuna had sent along homemade muffins to supplement the horrible cafeteria food in support of the family. Salem had eaten a few before Malika’s arm had “slipped” and dropped them in the trash.

“I should have had him living with me,” Omar groaned finally. “This would never have happened if I-”

“If what?” Kamalani snapped. “What would you have done? What have you ever done?”

“What have I done? I didn’t abandon him for months without any explanation or even a goodbye.”

“No, you just let your incompetent parents raise him for you, until he let a Helios seduce him into breaking-”

“Kamalani!” Malika’s voice cut across the room sharply and her ex-daughter in law’s mouth snapped closed immediately. The two women shared a knowing stare that Omar couldn’t interpret.

“Well, I’ll be fighting to get custody of him again. He’s going to need his father more than ever after this,” he declared and nearly everyone in the room tried to stifle a laugh.

“Oh honey, we all appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, but now isn’t the time for joking,” Malika chided, tousling his hair like he was still ten years old.

Someone needed to hold down the fort at the Bellamy home, and Wanda and Hunter volunteered. They chased off some reporters, and checked in every hour with the hospital, but were otherwise left alone with their thoughts.

“This is all so crazy,” Wanda said. “Nothing makes sense.”

“I know, who would want to shoot Roman? He’s just a kid.”

Wanda wasn’t entirely sure about how to broach the subject of motive with her husband. She’d been having doubts for weeks now about anything concerning Roman’s recent troubles. Kamalani was as rude to her as the blood related Bellamys, and it was no surprise that Malika had Kamalani around more than her actual son. The two of them were both vipers hiding behind a deception of sincerity. But what were their real motives? Wanda got to be included in simple things like summoning Roman, but was left out of their private tea times, and whispered conversations in the yard.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the person who killed Abraham shot to kill him, and then shot Roman clear of any major arteries or organs?”

Hunter frowned.

“Maybe they were a lousy shot,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just thankful that he’s going to pull through this. He could have just as easily bled out.”

Wanda picked at the corner of one of her nails absently. This needed to be said in the right way.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that your mother was walking in Factory Park so late at night, just in time to find Roman?”

Hunter’s frown grew deeper.

“No, she got a text message from the killer. That’s why Roman went too. She’s lucky to not have been a victim as well.”

“I know, but she...” Wanda paused and changed tactics. “Have you noticed anything strange happening lately? Especially around Roman? I saw him throwing chairs at his bedroom window the other day, trying to break the glass.”

Hunter shrugged.

“He’s a troubled kid,” he replied. “A lot’s changing in his life and he’s acting out.”

Wanda shook her head adamantly.

“No, it’s more than that. Kamalani and your mother talk about him all the time, but stop talking the instant I get close to them. He’s been cooped up in this house for several weeks, and never once left to see Abe who lives basically down the street. You’re telling me that Roman, the boy who runs away from everything, stayed voluntarily in this house when he could be sneaking out to see his boyfriend?”

Hunter’s shoulders stiffened, and Wanda knew she’d pushed a bit too hard, too quickly.

“What are you saying? That Roman should have died because Abraham died? That my nephew is usually out roaming the streets looking to impregnate other teens and him trying to spend a time of crisis with our family for support is suspicious?”

“Yes!” Wanda blurted out, too frustrated to care anymore. “Yes, he should have died! Just like my brother died! Your mother had no time to see and react to the text and still make it to that park in time to save him.” Her hands clenched into fists. “This family is insane, and it would be insane to expect support from them! Your brothers are thrown out of your family now, but they were never really included in the family before! Who lets their son’s ex-wife stay in their house, while shunning their son? Omar’s a bit dull, but he’s way better than Kamalani! And Roman has been a budding sociopath as long as he’s lived with your parents. He has no friends his age, and keeps condoms that he uses with someone in his wallet. For god’s sake, you could tell me that he shot Abraham and I would believe it. I try and I try with that kid, and nothing outside of being with Abe seems to get through to him. No wonder both of his parents abandoned him here!”

Wanda was practically hyperventilating. All of her frustrations, all the little micro aggressions she’d had to endure while living here spilled out of her, and for the first time in months, her chest didn’t feel burdened down by the Bellamy family.

Hunter said nothing, but Wanda could see the anger burning in his eyes. He stood up slowly and headed for the hall.

“It’s been a very stressful night, and tensions are running high,” he stated with the same bitter edge to his voice as his mother. “I think that maybe it would be for the best if you spent the night with Melvin. To clear your head.”

Wanda rested her head against the smooth wall outside of the hospital main entrance. She and Hunter had never really fought before, and she didn’t like feeling out of sync with him. There was so much adding up that she didn’t understand about the Bellamys, and about Arkhelios itself. Maybe a night apart would help give Hunter some perspective on his family. Maybe it would help her decide if she truly wanted to be a part of the Bellamy family at all. She would go spend the night on Melvin’s couch, and they would put their heads together and solve this nightmare once and for all. The constant stream of funerals had to end before the entire population of Arkhelios was buried in the church yard.

Still, she felt bad about what she’d said about Roman, especially since he was still in such bad shape. Could she be wrong about having suspicions about his injuries? Maybe he had just been luckier than Abraham and she was forcing connections to help her cope with how her brother had not been quite so lucky. She decided to pop in to see Roman quickly before she headed to Melvin’s just to ease her guilt. Maybe supporting the Bellamys when their guard was down was the key to winning them over. If they endured this all together, they would have some common ground to work with.

The hospital wasn’t very big, and had a limited amount of rooms for Roman to be in. She found Salem and Omar napping on couches in a waiting area, with several empty styrofoam cups of hospital coffee strewn across a nearby table.

Well if they’re able to sleep, that probably means Roman is doing okay.

She peeked into the first room on the left. Nope. Empty.

She wandered to the next room down the hall. No, no Roman. She was about to continue her search when she heard familiar voices echo down the hall. Malika was crying to the point of actual sobs, which made Wanda extremely uncomfortable. Malika never broke down and showed her feelings, especially if they made her look vulnerable. It felt like an intrusion to hear her in this state, but this brief glimpse into Malika’s actual feelings may be the only chance Wanda ever got to understand her bewildering mother in law. She hid in the room she’d entered behind the door, and strained to hear what was being said just up the hall. Thank god the hospital walls were poorly made and exceptionally thin.

“I...I can’t get the blood out of my coat,” Malika sobbed, and Wanda could hear Kamalani make comforting shushing sounds.

“It’s okay, we did what we had to. Things will be better now. You can buy a new coat.”

What they had to do? That probably just means the CPR.

“And my hands, under my nails...there’s a gaping hole in my grandson’s chest, I saw it! I practically raised him! I kissed him good night every time you gave him to us.” The sobs increased until Wanda could barely understand what she was saying. “And now I’ve watched him slowly start to die! People cut him open right in front of me! His shirt...bleeding...and pieces of bone....”

Malika was barely making sense and Wanda felt shame wash over her, listening to a grandmother grieve this horrible trauma. Maybe Hunter was right, and there wasn’t anything deeper to Roman’s shooting. Malika had been lucky to find Roman when she did. The stars had just aligned correctly to save Roman. He had beat the odds, and Zane simply didn’t. Just random chance.

“Shhh,” Kamalani whispered. It sounded like Malika was calming down. “’Screw your courage to the sticking place’, remember? You know what’s at stake here, and our plan is working. That Helios boy almost came here once already. With Roman immobile, he’ll be drawn here eventually. Arkhelios can be saved. Roman will be saved.”

A chill ran down Wanda’s spine and she pressed harder against the wall instinctively. She definitely didn’t want to be discovered now.

This had been the wrong thing to say, and Malika started sobbing once more.

“His-His eyes though! I saw him look at me when he fell. When he struggled to breathe! I thought when we started this it would be easy, but I can't forget the look on his face. The smell of his blood! I can only pretend that I don't know for so long. How do I tell him when he wakes up? How can I make him understand?”

Kamalani sighed heavily, clearly growing impatient with her ex-mother in law.

“Tell him that you weren’t involved. That you found him after I left. You’re not the one who pulled the trigger after all. He may not even remember seeing you there, or confuse it for when you called Adam." A long pause and more sobbing carried over the air to Wanda. "If it makes you feel less guilty, I can shoot you too. That will throw suspicion off of you.”

Wanda had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep from reacting.

Kamalani shot her own son? Why? And does this mean she killed Abraham too?

“You had one job this entire time,” Kamalani hissed as Malika’s sobs grew louder. “All you had to do was put him on a plane and keep writing checks until some duke or prince caught his interest and you couldn’t even manage that. Now how do you think he'll feel when Abe turns up dead? You could have spared him that pain if you'd only stopped this when I warned you."

Complete silence fell in the hospital. The only sound was the faint hum of the lights, and an occasional beep from down the hall. Wanda looked through the crack of the door hinges, and saw Malika poke her head out of the room they were in, looking for any sign of eavesdroppers. Salem and Omar were still sleeping and the woman at the front desk far down the hall seemed to be busy typing. Wanda held her breath, trying to remain as still as possible. Satisfied that they were alone, Malika ducked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” she hissed, shock replacing her tears. “Killing Abe was never part of the plan. We only need to prevent the child-”

“It’s been too long, that child could be born any day now and survive. Our only chance is to act swiftly, and end the threat immediately. You must realize how close to ruin Arkhelios is. A lot more people will die if Abe doesn’t. You know this, Malika! You were the one who chose this to begin with."

Malika sighed and seemed to be gathering her composure again. The cold mask she presented to the world (and especially to Wanda) was slipping back into place.

"You're right," she admitted. "I don't have the stomach for the act itself, but it's necessary. We've been too subtle, too timid hoping that this will resolve itself. Roman will understand one day, and if he doesn't, then maybe he'll feel pushed to leave Arkhelios on his own."

#sims 2 #ts2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #vague spoilers of the Arkhelios mystery that are incorrect #sorry for the novel

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honeyviscera · 2 years

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Hello! Helios here and I wanna know; how are you? Has life been kind to you, even if it’s in a small way? What has your luck brought to you lately? Is it something you really like? Hope you are having/will have a great day! /pos /gen

I've been doing alright! School has been absolutely killing me, I have so much work to do *sobs*

But I've gotten some nice things lately!! Especially, one of my irl friends bought me a present for Christmas (they only got the chance to give it to me last week) and it's a shirt with my Bestest Boy Shinsou on it (!!!!!!!!!) I love it so much, and I love having them as a friend, they know me so well <3 <3 <3 <3

So yeah!!! stressed out, but like. that's (unfortunately) vv normal B,)

#ocean asks #i love these asks from u <3

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littlesparklight · 3 years

Text

Deaths in Corinth

"Medea, what have you done?"

Medea looks up from Medeios greedily sucking little face as he tries to empty her out to still his hunger, and though she'd been worried by Jason's tone alone, the expression on his face leaves her breathless. The dark gazes of two of the most hostile and contrary elders that are supposed to be their ever-ready and ever-helpful advisers and instead have been like snakes in the grass since she and Jason arrived silences for yet another beat or two. A shiver, chill like the grimmest wind blown in from the mountains, steal down her spine. Clutching her youngest child closer to her breast - which he doesn't mind at all, just yet, Medea straightens up.

"What am I supposed to have done?" she asks, voice light, spine stiff, her hands wishing to curve into claws in answer to those dark, dark eyes of the old men flanking Jason.

"Th--- You, the children, Medea. How could you?" Jason is moments from crying, his voice breaking twice and threatening more, and he is utterly unknowing of the sneering little look from one elder. The other has better control, but Medea can see the aborted twitch that reveals the suppressed eyeroll. She can also see what has happened, and Medes wails a protest as she inadvertently rips him from her breast to pull him close, up against her instead of peacefully laying in her arms, little hand squeezing her full breast.

The children. The children, all thirteen of them, that she'd left at Hera's sanctuary last night as she'd done for the last several years on this very night every time it came by again, to see if this would be the night Hera would fulfil her promise. The children are dead, and those vulture-eyed, dog-mouthed men flanking her husband have killed them. Killed them because they had never been happy at foreigners ruling them, one more foreign than the other, and that a woman should be the primary of said rulers.

Or they have had a part in the killing in some way, even if they didn't do it themselves, which makes them just as guilty as she, though the people she has indeed killed were not her own children.

Medea grits her teeth, then opens her mouth, but between that and uttering her next few words in defence, she can see it doesn't matter what she says. They have poisoned Jason against her, and they have broken him.

"When I left our children at the sanctuary, they were alive, Jason. What has happened?"

The truth is sludge in her mouth, and they all know she's understood what's happened, but her quick understanding has only damned her further. She can see what little light, mad and needy, that still clung to Jason's brown eyes go out like she'd snuffed a candle with her last words. He's not going to survive this. She could drag him with her and he will still die, for it will take her too long to convince him she isn't at fault. In fact, she might have to fight for her life as he wished to kill both of them in whatever last spark of actual agency that might still exist in him.

Oh, Jason.

Too easily downtrodden, always looking for others to lead, so often laid to catastrophising. She'd never minded, not really, but now his faults have allowed others to break him, and they know it.

The only reason Medea isn't planning some way to take suitable revenge is that she knows death will be coming for them anyway, and for the whole of Corinth. They have killed in Hera's sanctuary, and more than that, they've killed children the goddess have promised a gift to. Maybe if the goddess had actually given her gift earlier, they wouldn't be here, but now it is late, all too late, and Medea's galloping heart and tight grip on her last living child can't quiet or soothe Medeois.

The room rings with his cries, and for now that is the only mourning his other siblings will receive. Jason as well, dead man walking as he is. She just hopes he kills himself in a kind way, but she has a feeling he will wish to punish himself when he has done no wrong.

"Medea... You're the one who was last seen with them, and they're dead." Jason closes his eyes, and she can breathe a little more easily for being out under that haunted, broken stare. Enough to jog her thoughts into more than a swirl.

Great Helios, beloved of Rhodes, grandfather, hear me! I am without recourse, cornered like a lioness with only one cub left, the strong father lying slain before her with his great mane covered in gore. Aid your family if you ever had any love left for your mortal children!

She can only hope he has heard her and, more than that, is willing to offer aid that might be when and where she'll need it.

"And it is me you think would kill them? I, who have fed them at my breast, each and every one of them, who have given them to Hera Akraia in the hope of immortality for them, as I was promised?"

Jason flinches at her words as if she's punched him, but, compared to what might have been the result years before, now it doesn't urge him to listen to her. Instead he merely hunches, as if his spine had just been broken, and he looks at her with wide, begging eyes and holds his hands out. They're strong, still, but trembling, revealing the sensitivities and weakness that were always there.

The poison is too deep, and she can feel the smug pleasure of the two elders lurking behind her husband.

"Please, Medea. Just confess," Jason whispers, his voice raw like the blood surely coating Hera's altar right this moment, for Medea doubts the Corinthians have washed it away just yet. No, they needed to have Jason see it, needed him to know it was still there, and it needs to stay until she's dead, until Jason is dead too. It will only condemn them further.

Oh, she has killed for this man, and he has been dear to her, but she cannot kill herself for him as well.

Medea smiles tightly, her ears ringing with Medeios' cries, and stands up. Shifts Medeios onto one arm, tipping her to lie against her chest, head cushioned against her shoulder, and at last his cries dwindle into sobbing hiccups, slowly calming just as Medea's heartbeat is. The breeze coming in from the window is warmer than it was minutes ago, and there's a golden tint to the light that wasn't there before.

"I can't confess to a crime I haven't committed, my heart. I might have killed my brother, I might have killed Pelias, bu---"

"And you killed Kreon," one of the men sneers at her, righteous when there is the blood of thirteen children on his hands. Medea laughs, mockingly. Jason only slumps further, but there's a brief frown she can just barely see on his forehead, there and then gone. He doesn't believe that, at least, well as he might when he was there right with her being summoned to Kreon and heard the man himself.

"I gave Kreon the assistance he wished for, after he'd already proclaimed my birth, as well as that of my husband’s, made us worthy to rule this fair city of yours that you have besmirched with innocent blood. I have killed, but not my children."

Jason, her poor, poisoned husband, starts crying. Medea's heart hurts, but there's nothing she can do. Not when he draws his sword - and not to turn on the men behind him, for the poison they have given him have eaten its way far too deep into his heart, via his eyes and ears. A far more powerful poison than any magical such she could devise.

She smiles as he makes ready to charge her, but he's slow, so slow she has all the time she needs to draw the fragile little glass bottle from the layered flounces of her skirts, and as she throws it he looks almost grateful for it.

Oh, Jason.

She can't kill herself for him, but she can also not kill him, for either of them.

That will be her weakness and another pain to bear into the future, for this is only a distraction, a way for her to escape.

Smoke explodes up as the glass shatters, noxious and dark like the ink of squid, and she is the squid fleeing. Medea whirls around, throwing herself at the window, then out of it, and she almost falls straight off the chariot as she hits it hard with her shoulder and hip, her weight and speed tipping it sideways. Clutching at the rim with strength only a desperate mother could know, Medea manages to pull herself up, grab the reins and urge the shining drakones to move, all without falling off or losing her baby.

Her baby, who is giggling now, despite the shock of their flight, and Medea looks down with burning eyes and tears spilling down her cheeks to the boy in her arm, chewing at one of the golden rings that binds her tresses. He looks like Jason.

"Don't worry, my eyes," she whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of his soft head, tiny wisps of dark curls caressing her chin and cheeks while tears caress Medeios' skull, "they might have gotten all the others, but they won't get you. Or me."

Exhaling sharply, Medea straightens up, tightens her grip on the reins as she turns the snakes eastwards, and lets the golden wind dry her tears.

***

So, this is inspired by, and drawing from, several old/er sources (Pausanias, Eumelos, scholia on Eumelos) for what happens in Corinth. Medea seems most often to have killed her children, either inadvertently, or, as in Euripides, intentionally. The scholia says it was the Corinthians, angry at having a foreigner ruling them, for Eumelos in his Korinthiaka had Medea (and Jason) summoned to Corinth and given rulership, explicitly on the grace of Medea’s bloodline. The children are killed in the sanctuary of Hera Akraia (by the Corinthians in this version), where Medea has been leaving them in expectation of Hera fulfilling her promise to her (here, my intention is that Hera’s promise is the reward for Medea’s help to kill Pelias). In the version where the killings happen inadvertently, Jason can’t forgive her and leaves for Iolkos. So what happens as a background to this is Medea, as an agent of Hera, kills Pelias for his insult to her, she and Jason have to leave Iolkos, they are summoned to Corinth and given rulership, Kreon dies (childless, hence why Medea and Jason have been summoned).

I would honestly not have done this at all but reading all this in Early Greek Myth by Gantz I was just slapped in the face by inspiration, and as much as I am so damn cranky over so many people crowing about Medea doing nothing wrong (her brother and her children says hello), I am pleased with this.

#greek mythology #medea #jason

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malereader-inserts · 5 years

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Andante, Andante | Ch. IX

You looked at him blankly, it takes a moment to realise he was talking to you and it takes another second that you like the way he says your name. You blink before nodding, to acknowledge him.

Word Count: 1,732

A/n: Sorry for such a long wait, but I think I might have to delete old requests that have been pending because I want to fresh start but also I have nothing, no energy for some of them. I hope you guys understand

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“I’m sorry again, Peter,” Rhodey sighs as he stares at the teenager.

Peter refused to move, nor speak or even acknowledge anyone around him. He was numb and angry. Rhodey sighs as his apology goes unnoticed. The teenager was so angry that he couldn’t react. Rhodey leaves Peter in peace as he shakes his head to the team.

“Nothing,” Rhodey sighs, looking upset with himself, “he’s really taking it hard.”

Tony looked behind Rhodey and through the glass wall. The team standing behind it as they worry for their teammate. They didn’t know how to help Peter, because the only person who could really help him was in a hospital bed next to him, unresponsive for the past two days.

Peter woke up the next day, from the building incident and the first thing he asked, despite his body aching and in pain, was for you. He panicked when you weren’t there to greet him, he panicked when Steve told him that you were unresponsive.

Peter freaked out when Tony relays the story. And everything came back to him, he remembers everything and wants to forget everything. You said his name, and yet, he wished that when you said his name it was under better circumstances.

He had imagined that you would slip up, not in a state of panic and the possibility of death.

He wished you were awake to mock him, that he’s spending each minute by your side hoping, praying you would wake up. He wished he could hear you grumble profanities under your breath as if you think no one could hear you grumbling away. He wished you were awake so you could tease him that he turned so red that he was hotter than the sun.

And yet, he was met with the unsettling silence.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony says softly by the doorway, his hands in his pockets as he looks at his protegee.

He pulls up a chair however Peter does not flinch at the scraping noise nor does he turn his head. Almost as if he was fixated on his place that he had become a statue.

“You know, (Y/n) wouldn’t be so happy if he knew you would be watching over him. You were injured too, Pete, you need to rest up,” Tony pointed out as Peter sighs.

He finally looks at his mentor, the first person he’s looking directly at them. His eyes brimming with tears yet all red and puffy. He’s exhausted, not from his injuries but from his crying. Tony looks upon his protege with pity as he opens his arms.

Pulling the boy into a tight embrace as Peter holds on to his mentor with such grip that Tony thinks that Peter’s afraid he’ll fall. Peter sobs into his jacket, as Tony brushes his hair, cooing and calming him down.

“It’s my fault, Tony,” His voice breaks, muffled as he was pressing himself tighter into Tony’s embrace.

“No, it’s not, Pete,” Tony sternly says, rubbing Peter’s back as he calms down, slowly but Tony couldn’t blame the boy much.

As the two separated, Tony grabs the box of tissues from nearby and offers them to Peter, who grabs them timidly. Wiping his face whilst Tony waited for him to catch his breath. Tony tried not looking at Peter with a pitying look, but he both looked all pathetic and Peter would stand by that.

“It’s not your fault Peter,” Tony reaffirmed as the boy stares at him with bleary eyes, “And I can guarantee that (Y/n) would say the same thing, in fact, he’ll probably tease you about crying over him.”

“He wouldn’t,” Peter sniffed, letting out a soft fond chuckle, “He’d grumble about him not worth crying about.”

Tony tilted his head and lets out an exhale as he placed a firm hand on the teenager’s shoulder, “Come on, we have to get you something to eat, change of scenery. And if (Y/n) wakes up, we’ll come right back.”

Peter looked over to your way before sighing and nodded. Hesitantly standing up and following Tony. Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, reassuring and caring but Peter can’t help but dread the separation.

Peter had been by your side since the Monday mission, he’s tried to be preoccupied with other things like watching his Netflix, listening to music, reading a book, hell he even tried studying ahead of the plan.

It was Friday, early morning, around three am. Peter’s lost the sense of time as guilt still ate him up. What he had not noticed that you had woken up. You thought you still had your eyes closed as you were met with near pitch darkness.

It takes you a moment to gather your senses and the crushing realisation of the pain jabbing you. Then it was the sound of the heart monitor then Peter’s nonsensical muttering to himself that you’ve convinced yourself you’re in your own torment of hell.

You adjusted yourself to lift your head up to see the bright light of Peter’s laptop glow onto his face.

“Peter?” You groaned, surprising yourself with your own rough voice.

He jumps when he sees you awake, almost breaking his laptop in the process. But, you don’t see the relief that washes over him, how his shoulders go from tense to relax and the beaming smile to see you awake and remembering him.

“Hey (Y/n).”

You looked at him blankly, it takes a moment to realise he was talking to you and it takes another second that you like the way he says your name. You blink before nodding, to acknowledge him.

“You need anything? Water? Doctor?” Peter asked, there was a state of franticness to his tone but you take no notice of it.

“Just,” You gasped in pain when you shift your position that Peter almost dropped his laptop to go to assist you, “Hold on, Peter, just put your laptop down before you break it and Stark won’t buy you another.”

You had your hand out to stop him from coming closer to you, you only dropped it down when he carefully places his laptop down. You let out a steady breath, slowly. You looked at Peter as he gazed at you, tilting his head as he remembers how much he had missed staring into your eyes, how much he adored how you subconsciously turn your eyes soft when you find something adoring about him.

You let out another huff of air, licking your lips as you relax your shoulders. You tilt your head at him and gave him a small smile.

“So what did I miss?”

“Pst,”

You groaned as you wake up to Peter crouching by your hospital bed. You rubbed your eyes as you leaned up to look at him, your eyebrows scrunched up together in confusion as you looked mildly confused and annoyed that you were disturbed.

“What,” You mumbled, the darkness settling as you can curve out the angels of his jaw.

“Sunrise, (Y/n), come join me.”

There was a faint smile playing upon his lips, the annoyance that was slowly building in you has flushed away as you sat up slowly, groaning as Peter helps you up. He helps you put on some sweats, shirt and hoodie on as you pulled on some shoes. He passes you a cane as the two of you lead yourself out the hospital room of the compound.

You found yourself finding familiarity in the steps of the first week of the bet when Peter dragged your ass out of bed. Peter hauls himself up the ladder first before reaching for you and your cane, almost effortlessly lifting you to the top. There was a static shock when your hands touched his, and you were sure it wasn’t your powers acting up again.

The fresh air hits you as you see him grin at you, you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“What is this, Peter?”

“This,” Peter steps to his left, whilst your lips dropped the smile, “is breakfast, (Y/n).”

“Peter-?” You lost your train of thought as you beamed at him.

Picnic blanket laid upon the concrete roof, fairy lights decorated the edge of the blanket as there was a basket in the middle. He motions for you to sit down, worried that if you stand for too long that you’ll collapse. You roll your eyes but do what as he pleases as he sits by you.

“You’re a sap, Parker,” You chuckled.

“We’re going back to last names, ey? Thought we established that we didn’t anymore.”

You rolled your eyes again, but a grin was still upon your lips, “Alright, alright, whatever, Peter.”

Peter tries to hide the shudder as a shiver, but it still make his heart flutter and the stomach acid rise when you say his name. It’s almost natural to you like it had found home within your laughter and fondness of your mouth. He wonders if his eyes trick him when he catches you staring just a minute longer, he wonders if his eye fools him when he can see the admiration and love settle in those big eyes of yours.

Peter often wonders what your embrace would be like, and he dreams the range of ways your lips taste against his.

“Keep looking, Peter, you’re going to miss the sunrise,” You joked, there was a flush of blush undertone on your cheeks.

The sun blooms on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue. It is the brilliant flower of the sky that warms our days. It is the invitation to a new day, that sunrise so ordinary extraordinary.

“Under the sun we are all the same,” Peter says softly and Peter let the soft amber glow of the sunrise pour through his fingers and onto his upturned face.

You relished in his state, your features softening as you remember those words. You had said out loud to him when you both first ventured here on the first week, and just like how Peter had admired you - Peter was Helios. The god of the sun, controlling the rising and allowing the soft hues of the morning to be absorbed by him.

And you found yourself smiling to yourself, biting your lip to conceal it. To conceal that you didn’t just love Peter Parker.

You were in love with Peter Parker.

Tagged: @locke-writes @yesthetrashbin @blackirisposts @idwithoutthesuperego @screamingmuffinsunite @fifi550 @vydante @batfam16 @kpopchangedmylifesstuff @chaotictyler @delphicillusion @daeshaunex2 @spideylovin @lewi-black @vances-violets @hey-cigasrette @vaijuiins-shelter @wobbleknocker @awkwardwintersoldier @wanna-plan-world-domination

#Andante andante #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x male!reader #x male reader #Avengers #avengers imagine

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scarasushi · 4 years

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Chapter 19-21 CONTAINS SPOILERS!!!

So I've finished the new chapters in MLQC finally and idk this is probably gonna be a messy mess of my thoughts and feelings afterwards because I'm very sad :(

I've read the translations of these chapters beforehand so I knew that obviously what I would have to endure and the fact that they all forget you in this other world but still it hurt (especially Gavin but if I'm honest I knew that was gonna happen because I'm weak when it comes to birdcop) it made me a little happy when he picked up MC's ginkgo leaf bracelet tho so that made up for it a tiny bit.

I read some kind of theory about how especially in Gavin Lucien and Kiro's life MC's presence was important in their charecters development which if I wasn't speed typing I'd probably link it in this but still it goes onto say how MC's precense didn't exatly change Victor and you can totally see that in these new chapters he's still the same old Victor even tho he's forgotten about MC just like the rest of them (we even got a classic dummy!!) That's why I think that even tho Victor's definitely one of my favourites, his chapter didn't effect me in such a way that Gavin did because effectively his charecter development hasn't really changed like yes there might might be slight differences but not in the way it affected the other 3. Gavin seems colder more focused on his work which he was in the past world but the MC in his past life was his one source of happiness everything he did he did it for her she was what he pretty much lived for and without that his emotions in that sense are non existant something the MC kinda picks up on. This can also be the same for Kiro as well without the MC acceping him for who he is we can see that he tends to hide behind his Helios personality a lot more. I mean I love Helios but I miss my happy sunshine boi as well *sobs :'(* Lucien is also similar perhaps being more Aries then Lucien ( confession: but I've never really liked him all that much anyway there's just something about him but I just don't know arghh.

Then there's that piano dude (he's really quite pretty ngl) idk I'm kinda wary of him ngl but idk?

Then there's the whole Shaw thing (he finally has a name!! Well a name for this sever but ya know!) I don't honestly know because I think it seems strange out of everybody he the only one who knows about MC and hasn't forgotten her and he dosent seem to be part of group neither the Police or Black Swan like the others who are involved with either somehow. But regardless of this I still like him I've always kinda liked him ever since reading chapter 17 he's also very pretty I mean Gavin's his brother so I think that family just has really good genes or something because oof... Just YES. Also his evol is lightning I just thought its really kinda sweet both him and Gavin have weather evols (even tho they probs hate one another but ya know...) also if anyone knows when the Shaw karma cards first start coming out on this server pls let me know because I'm gonna have to invest...

So that is probably all I really have to say on the matter of the new chapters because I needed to rant and get it all off my chest.

#mr love queen's choice #mlqc kiro #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc shaw #mlqc helios #otome #new chapters #There's probably 100 typos in this but idc honestly I don't have the effort to spell check anything #Nervously waiting for the new chapters to be released...

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hiighwarlock · 4 years

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@wordbound sent: fandom! Multimuses: send me the word “Fandom” and I’ll tell you which of your muses’ canons I’m familiar with.

Well, obviously I'm familiar with The Shadowhunter Chronicles fandom, as it's the focus of this blog as well! But beyond that, I actually know quite a few of the canon universes listed in your multimuse blog! Like.... a lot! So many so, that I am going to have to put this under a cut, good heavens. Let's see:

Good Omens - ohhhhhh my, how I love Neil Gaiman and Sir Terry Pratchett. I was a massive fan of this book for years, and when the show came out, I loved it too. I even wrote in this fandom, because how can you not?? Ugh, Michael Sheen and David Tennant were sublime, I adore them both. That show gave me LIFE.

Sherlock - I was a massive fan of the BBC Sherlock series up until series 3, and I do still think series 1 is a true masterpiece. I'm also a massive fan of Martin Freeman, and adored him as John Watson (so much, that I wrote Watson for a brief time in an RP group!)

RENT - I have loved/obsessed/cried over RENT since I was in highschool. I can literally sing the entire musical from memory, start to finish. I sob like a baby every time I see it live (and I have seen it live alot) and I will go to my grave loving the filmed version because at least it had most of the OBC. Also, one time Anthony Rapp responded to my tweet and it made my whole life valid.

Star Trek - ST is actually one of my original homebases for roleplay! One of the first blogs I ever created for RP on tumblr was a Leonard McCoy rp blog. Even before tumblr, I was obsessed with various Trek universes, from TOS to DS9 to Voyager. TOS is a big part of my childhood and my relationship with my mother, and NuTrek let me recapture that relationship in recent years, so I owe so much to Roddenberry, I can't even tell you.

Doctor Who - I am a Whovian, and my whole heart belongs to David Tennant (although, Vincent & the Doctor is still the best Dr Who eps I've ever seen)

Tolkien - I literally hollared when I saw you were writing Elladan! He and Elrohir are two of my favorite characters from Middle Earth and I will forever be big mad that they left them out of the Jackson films. (don't tell me that random cameo was sufficient, it was not). LOTR is another universe "homebase" for me, being one of the first fandoms I ever roleplayed in. Here's the fun bit.... figuring out which character I wrote! ;)

DnD - I'm an avid DnD player, and I cannot speak highly enough of the lore

Mythology - lol, fun fact, I used to write in a Mythology group RP. This was years ago now, long before the likes of Lore Olympus or Percy Jackson. I penned the sun god, Helios, and it was loads of fun. Because of this, I know a good amount about Greek and Roman Mythology!

Marvel/MCU - Another fandom I've RPed in! I've actually been a comic book reader since about the age of 7, so I've been obsessed with the storylines of the X-Men/Avengers/Luke Cage/Alpha Flight/Mrs Marvel for a loooong time. When the films started getting really high quality, I couldn't resist writing in the MCU. I still love the characters, but that RPC is a bit... rough... so now I just admire from afar!

Glee - Hoo boy. I was such a Gleek when this show originally aired. God I loved Lea Michele and Mark Salling.... at least back then. Suffice to say, that show did not age well, the later seasons were almost painful to watch. And with everything that happened with some of the actors working on it.... ah, well. I still appreciate the early seasons, and the impact that Glee itself had on shaping musical Television for future shows.

Repo - Is this Repo the film? Or Repo: The Genetic Rock Opera? Because I am a big fan of the Latter! I thought it was a stunning and peculiar musical!

Kingdom of Heaven - if you can believe it, I really loved this film when it came out. Largely because I had a massive thing for Orlando Bloom, but also because I thought the movie was aesthetically gorgeous. I haven't watched it in perhaps ten years now, but still consider it a film that deserved more love than it got.

Jurassic Park - I'm an 80s kid, so of course I loved the first Jurassic Park film. I'll even admit that I love a lot of the sequels (though, not all). I’ve never written in this fandom, but I enjoyed the book(s) tremendously when I was younger.

Buffy - I loooove Buffy, that show was my jam in high school. I haven't gone back to do a rewatch in ages, but suffice to say, I thought Angel was *chef's kiss*

And... wow. There you have it. Apparently we have a lot in common, at least in regards to our fantasy/sci-fi interests! I’m so glad I met you on here and that we are now friends on discord! Thank you for being such a great writing companion!

#ooc #long post tw #me: loves ALL THE FANDOMS

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bloodyfangedtiger · 4 years

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Goodbye Jack, I'm Sorry

So yeah, another mpreg prompt but if you don't like it then shove off.

Rhys bit his lip as he looked at the results, his closest friends sitting right across from him in the privacy of his own home. "I-but how? I was on suppressants! I have an implant! How could this-?!" He bit off on a choked sob and his friend the accountant rushed over to his side to help him hide. "Hey, it's going to be okay Rhys. We'll figure something out."

Their other friend bit his lip and looked over at the PA with a look that screamed I'm sorry. "Judging by the growth, it seems that during the time of the attack on Helios is when it was conceived and that was during your heat correct?"

Rhys nodded.

"During the attack, Zarpedon set off an EMP that wiped out most electronics on the station. Which includes your implant and unlocked your womb. Rhys, you are currently four months pregnant."

The omega wailed and hugged his friend tighter while their doctor friend joined them in a group hug. "You should call him, if there's one thing Jack hates the most it's surprises."

Rhys held the man's hand "Thank you, Tim, for everything." He leaned into the doctor's embrace who looks almost exactly the same as the man he has been sleeping with for the past year and a half.

----

Brr brr brr

Click

"Really not the best time, cupcake! These assholes have got a murder on!" Handsome Jack's voice rang from the echo while Rhys leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom with a hand around his stomach.

"Jack- I mean sir. I have something to tell you." The PA choked as the gravity of the situation hit him hard.

"It can wait till I get back, come get me you sons of bitches!"

The call cut off and Rhys dropped to his knees, he couldn't do this. It just-he and him-no they can't. Jack has a kid of his own, he's running his own company and he's also engaged so...there's no room for the two of them.

He knows what he has to do but it is going to be hell of a lot hard for him to do it.

----

He wipes the sweat off his brow after he finishes the manual he's created for his replacement, he picked a law student grad who knows how a company runs and has some daddy issues but is a Beta. The other choices were old men or women that couldn't tell their asses from their elbows.

He glances around the massive office once last time before he hands the receptionist his key card and pass codes and bids the place farewell. Tim and Vaughn pick him up from the office and bring him to the clinic for one last checkup. "Vitals are stable, hormone levels are adequate and...heh you've got three beautiful pups in ya. Looks like they're identical."

Vaughn snorted "Three mini Jacks running around the house, oh your life is going to be hell!" He chortled which earned him a slap on the back by Rhys robotic hand.

Tim gave him a years supply of prenatal vitamins and some other supplements to help with fetal growth before they all bid each other goodbye.

††††

The doors to Jack's office burst open as the king himself walked in with the air of an egotistic hero. "Ahhhh it feels great to be home!"

All that happiness left in an instant when he heard his little girl sniffling and immediately runs to his daughter's side. "Angel! Angel baby are you okay? What's wrong?"

The fourteen year old looked up at him while she held a letter in her hands "Dad, Rhys left."

Jack bit his lip then threw on a smile "Maybe he's gone down to Pandora to get some ice cream? You know how much ice cream he eats." He tried to soothe his little girl.

The siren growled "He left for good!" She yelled, her arms glowing as her powers activated. "He said that he is sorry and that he hopes you're happy!" She shoved the letter into his chest and ran off to her room. Leaving the king like president dumb founded.

He looked down at the letter she had thrusted into his chest and could smell the distressed scent of his PA wafting off of it like he was standing right by him.

Jack. Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Handsome Jack sir, I apologize for the inconvenience my sudden.

(The whole top part of the letter had been scratched out.)

Jack, I'm sorry that this is sudden but I can't stay here under your employment anymore. I'm sorry but I can no longer be your quick fling nor your personal assistant.

I've made a manual for my replacement and have chosen a grad student Beta to take my place. Just give them the book and they'll know what to do.

Tell Angel that I'm sorry for not saying goodbye but I wish you both the happiness you both deserve.

Congratulations on your future wedding, may you have happy days.

Rhys Gallagher.

He should feel angry, furious, disappointed but none of that comes to mind. He should tear up the letter but he can't move. "Rhysie. Dammit, why? Why are you doing this?" He brought the letter close to his face and inhaled deeply the scent of his Omega. The quirky, lanky programmer of a PA who he hired on a whim and now doesn't regret a single thing. Until now.

He shoves the letter into his drawer and storms out of his office, past his receptionist and straight to security. He kicks the doors in and barks "I WANT EVERY JACKASS IN THIS ROOM TO TRACK DOWN WHERE MY P.A WENT!" he howled.

Yvette freezes in her chair and subtlety calls Rhys so that he can hear what is going on up on Helios.

"I want him found and I want him home yesterday!"

Rhys, on Pandora, bit his lip as he listened to the call. He didn't think Jack would care, he didn't think he meant much to the fucking King of Helios. He thought that he was just some code monkey fuck buddy to him. He shook his head and ended the call before looking over at his arm and then at the replacement Atlas had designed for him. "I'm sorry, Jack."

From then on, his days as an Atlas employee began and he disappeared from Jack's radar.

→→→→

Fifteen years later*

A fifteen year old boy with auburn brown hair and green eyes grinned as he faced a bunch of psycho bandits. "C'mon, sweethearts, you really think you can take me on? Only in your sick dreams." His sharp chin and square jaw makes him look like the oppressive ruler of Hyperion but if you asked this kid he would say "That guy? No way are we related. 'Sides, I'm cooler than him by far."

He's wearing a navy blue sleeveless tunic and a pair of baggy trousers with some black swamper like boots that make him look like a pirate rather than a desert dweller of the dirt planet called Pandora.

A girl with brown eyes of similar age and dark brown hair rolled her eyes while she sat on top of a shanty house and watched the boy. "Mom is going to kill you."

The boy only grinned and began to slaughter all the psychos with the gauntlets around his hands which fire small rocket like bullets upon impact that decimate its target. Creating a bloody mess and no hopes of identification.

The girl rolled her eyes and adjusted the blades on the back of her arms as well as front. She recalibrated her weapons and flexed her arms till she was satisfied with the results and puts her tools away into the belt around her waist.

"Jackson, quit screwing around. We have to get ready for mom's party." She announced, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail with one long bang covering her left eye. She is wearing what looks like a tube top with two belt straps that connect her shirt to her shorts. Two more straps wind around her legs and snake down to her slip on shoes that have small decorative wings on the heels. On her back is a strange backpack that actually holds mechanical wings she can control with her back muscles and by moving her core.

"Harley, do you really have to be a buzz kill?" The boy known as Jackson with slicked back hair griped before wiping his face and body off with a towel to remove the blood. "This party is just going to be a drag, a bunch of fat ass aristocrats who either A.) Want to get into mom's pants or B.) In his pockets. Why the fuck should we go?" He rolled his eyes.

Harley took a deep breath before slowly exhaling "For support, it would mean a lot to him if we were there. We don't have to talk to anyone, just stay still and look pretty."

Her brother narrowed his eyes in what can only be described as disgust. "If I get groped again, there will be blood." He promised green orbs that promise murder.

Harley only smirked "Don't worry, we'll have your back. Les and I will make sure those gross aristocrats don't pinch your ass again."

»»»»

Rhys stood in the ballroom wearing his usual black jacket and trousers with his platinum plated cybernetic arm outstretched to greet the on coming guests. Even though fifteen years have passed, Rhys doesn't look like he's aged a day probably because of his healthy diet of fruits and veggies.

Even if he did have gray hair and wrinkles, Jack would still see him as the most beautiful creature in the world. "Rhys." The name slips past his lips as he watches his Omega, his former PA and the man he is going to beat the shit out of soon.

"You look awesome mom!" A teenage girl with one green eye and one brown eye squealed as she hugged Rhys, wearing a gold colored sundress that gleams brightly like the sun itself. Her brunette and auburn colored hair tied back into a luxurious bun that sits atop her head like a crown.

Rhys petted her head and gave her a tight squeeze "Thank you, Les. You look adorable in that dress." He smiled before letting her go and then darting his eyes around the room looking for someone. He persed his lips and sighed. "Where are Jackson and Harley?"

Les or Lesley if you would, rocked back on her heels while scratching the back of her neck. "Jack is still getting ready and Harley is at the punch bowl."

The Omega pinched the bridge of his nose "What's the problem this time?"

Lord knows it takes forever to get his son ready, Jackson prefers a certain style for his attire and won't wear anything except that. This style is pirate theme or at least water themed and it can't be flashy or else he'll walk around shirtless.

"He says that he doesn't want to dress up and rather wear his own clothes." Les replied carefully.

Jack watched them interact from close by and there is no mistaking it, that is his daughter. 'Is that why he left? Because he was pregnant?' Jack thought anxiously, feeling his pride take a beating because his Omega couldn't tell him and had to hide the news.

He felt the ring box weigh heavily in his pocket, he picked it out specifically for him. It must have been what Rhys meant by "future wedding". He must have seen the receipt for it or maybe it was the chapel he booked that gave him the wrong idea.

His eyes narrowed and all he saw was red, there his beloved stands not two feet away and damn him will he let him go again. He hurriedly made his way through the crowds of people and grabbed Rhys by his flesh arm before pulling him flush to his chest. He buried his nose into those brown locks and inhaled his sweet scent. "Dammit, Rhys. You really like to make me work for you huh? I've been looking for you everyday for the past fifteen years." He felt a sob bubble in his throat from all the longing he felt for his former PA.

Rhys stood stock still as the Alpha he once loved held him so close with such a tight embrace he was afraid he might break. "Break it up before I barf." Jackson oh so eloquently requested.

Wearing a brown tunic and trousers plus his swampers, Harley stood next to him wearing a black dress with a sweetheart neck line and a slit up one side.

Rhys's jaw dropped "Harley Angela Gallagher what are you wearing?!"

The girl shrugged "Something to catch me a date, there's this hottie I've been wanting to wrap around my finger. She's got a sister too."

Rhys face palmed while Jackson rolled his eyes "Jack, these are your kids." He said with a groan and gestured to the triplets.

"Harley, the eldest, Jackson, the second eldest and Leslie the youngest."

Jack let go of Rhys but kept an arm around his waist, putting on his best smile. "I'm Handsome Jack Lawrence. Your dad and president of Hyperion."

Jackson didn't look amused and said nothing while Harley said hello and Leslie full on tackled him. "Daddy!" She cried out with joy which earned her a hug and being picked by the Hyperion pres himself. She nuzzled her head into his neck, breathing in his scent.

Jack held her tight and looked over at his kids, his beautiful wonderful children that he missed out watching them grow up. He let Les go and heaved Rhys over his shoulder "Sorry, kiddos. Mommy and Daddy need to have a little quality time and a long talk."

Jack took them to his hotel room with a protesting Omega wriggling around on his shoulder and smacking his back. "Jack! I have to give a speech soon!"

He was unceremoniously thrown onto the wide queen sized bed. "Oh you're going to give a speech alright." Jack chuckled in that 'I'm going to kill you and enjoy it' tone before caging Rhys in on the bed with his hands on either side of the Omega's hips. "Mind telling me what happened fifteen years ago?"

His former PA looked away "You hung up on me when I needed you. I was so scared that I didn't know what else to do. Then I remembered that letter I found, saying the date had been set for your wedding and a dress had been picked out for your bride."

Jack chuckled and gently took Rhys chin "Baby, if you talked to me we would have figured things out."

Rhys glared and took his head away "I can't be a good fuck for you while you're married, Jack. Pregnant with triplets and having to tiptoe around your wife and not being able to tell who the father is. I couldn't do it."

Jack leaned in and breathed in Rhys scent before whispering in his ear "That dress." He pressed a kiss to the Omega's bonding site, sending shivers down the other's spine. "That date." He moved till he was able to engulf the site fully into his mouth "It was all for you. I was going to propose after I got back." He began to suck on the sensitive skin, causing Rhys to grab the sheets and spread his legs to accommodate the Alpha between his legs. He bit his lip to stifle a moan when Jack pinched the skin between his teeth and pulled slightly.

"I wanted to make you mine, I picked out the most perfect dress, a perfect planet and top notch security to have our wedding." Jack murmured against his skin "But that is going to have to wait, because I need to punish my Omega." He purred into Rhys ear.

★★★

Rhys panted and whined as Jack held him in his lap and shallowly thrusted his fingers in his ass. Only rubbing just the edges of his prostate and not getting anywhere close to his womb. "Jack, please." He gripped onto the Alpha's lapels and tried to fuck himself on those rough padded digits only to have them ripped away. "Uhuh uh, kitten. This is a punishment after all. I'm going to keep this pace up till you're begging me for my cock." The Hyperion CEO smirked before he rubbed Rhys's entrance with the tip of his calloused finger.

The Omega male whined and whimpered as slick oozed from his teased hole. "Jaaaack!"

The Alpha growled and rubbed his erection against the Omega's oozing hole. "You want this, kitten? You want my cock in your tight hole?" The Hyperion CEO growled into the Atlas man's ear.

#mpreg #jackxrhys #abo dynamics

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ofbloodandfaith · 5 years

Text

Day 4 of 30 days of Apollon

A favourite myth or myths of this deity

I have three favourite myths featuring Apollon

1.The slaying of the serpent Python which guarded the oracular shrine of Delphoi (Delphi).

Homeric Hymn 3 to Apollo 356 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C7th - 4th B.C.) : "Straightway large-eyed queenly Hera took him [Typhaon (Typhoeus)] and bringing one evil thing to another such, gave him to the Drakaina (Dracaena) [Python]; and she received him. And this Typhaon used to work great mischief among the famous tribes of men. Whosoever met the Drakaina, the day of doom would sweep him away, until the lord Apollon, who deals death from afar, shot a strong arrow at her. Then she, rent with bitter pangs, lay drawing great gasps for breath and rolling about that place. An awful noise swelled up unspeakable as she writhed continually this way and that amid the wood : and so she left her life, breathing it forth in blood. Then Phoibos (Phoebus) Apollon boasted over her : ‘Now rot here upon the soil that feeds man! You at least shall live no more to be a fell bane to men who eat the fruit of the all-nourishing earth, and who will bring hither perfect hecatombs. Against cruel death neither Typhoios (Typhoeus) [her consort] shall avail you nor ill-famed Khimaira (Chimera) [her spawn], but here, shall the Earth and shining Hyperion [Helios the Sun] make you rot.’ Thus said Phoibos, exulting over her : and darkness covered her eyes. And the holy strength of Helios (the Sun) made her rot away there; wherefore the place is now called Pytho, and men call the lord Apollon by another name, Pythian; because on that spot the power of piercing Helios made the monster rot away."

Homeric Hymns 3 to Apollo 300 ff : "But near by [Delphoi (Delphi)] was a sweet flowing spring, and there with his strong bow the lord, the son of Zeus, killed the bloated, great Drakaina (Dracaena), a fierce monster wont to do great mischief to men upon earth, to men themselves and to their thin-shanked sheep: for she was a very bloody plague. She it was who once received from gold-throned Hera and brought up fell, cruel Typhaon [Typhoeus] to be a plague to men."

2. His music contest with the satyr Marsyas who lost and was flayed alive.

Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 1. 24 (trans. Aldrich) (Greek mythographer C2nd A.D.) : "Apollon also slew Marsyas, the son of Olympos. This fellow had come upon the flute which Athene had thrown away because it made her face misshapen, and he proceeded to face Apollon in a musical contest. It was decided that the winner could do whatever he wanted with the loser. During the contest Apollon played lyre in a reverse position, and invited Marsyas to do the same. But Marsyas was incapable of this feat, and so Apollon won. He finished off Marsyas by hanging him from a lofty pine and flaying him."

3. His love for the youth Hyakinthos (Hyacinthus) who was killed by a discus throw and transformed into a flower.

Ovid, Metamorphoses 10. 162 ff (trans. Melville) (Roman epic C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : "Amyclides [Hyakinthos son of Amyklas], too, Phoebus [Apollon] would have placed in heaven had drear fate given time to place him there. Yet in the form vouchsafed he is immortal. Year by year, when spring drives winter flying and Aries succeeds watery Pisces, he rises from the earth and in the greensward brings his bloom to birth [as a flower]. He was my father's [Apollon's] favourite, and Delphi, chosen centre of the world, lost its presiding god, who passed his days beside Eurotas [in Lakedaimonia] in the martial land of unwalled Sparta, and no more esteemed thither or bow. Forgetting his true self, he was content to bear the nets, to hold the hounds in leash and join the daylong chase through the rough mountain ridges, nourishing his heart's desire with long companionship. One day, near noon, when the high sun midway between the night past and the night to come at equal distance stood from dawn and dusk, the both stripped off their clothes and oiled their limbs, so sleek and splendid, and began the game, throwing the discus; and Phoebus first poised, swung and hurled it skywards through the air, up, soaring up, to cleave the waiting clouds. The heavy disk at longest last fell back to the familiar earth, a proof of skill, and strength with skill. Then straightway Taenarides [Hyakinthos], unthinking, in the excitement of the sport, ran out to seize it, but it bounded back from the hard surface full into Hyacinthus' face. The god turned pale, pale as the boy himself, and catching up the huddled body, tried to revive him, tried to staunch the tragic wound and stay the fading soul with healing herbs. His skill was in vain; the wound was past all cure. And as, when in a garden violets or lilies tawny-tongued or poppies proud are bruised and bent, at once they hang their heads and, drooping, cannot stand erect and bow their gaze upon the ground; so dying lies that face so fair and, all strength ebbed away, his head, too heavy, on his shoulders sinks. ‘My Oebalides [Hyakinthos],’ Phoebus cried, ‘laid low and cheated of youth's prime! I see your wound, my condemnation, you my grief and guilt! I, I have caused your death; on my own hand, my own, your doom is written. Yet what wrong is mine unless to join the game with you were wrong or I were wrong to love you well? Oh, would for you--or with you--I might give my life! But since the laws of fate forbid, you shall be with me always; you shall stay for ever in remembrance on my lips, and you my lure and you my song shall hymn. A new flower you shall be with letters marked to imitate my sobs, and time shall come when to that flower the bravest hero born [Aias] shall add his name on the same petals writ.’ So with prophetic words Apollo spoke, and lo! the flowing flood that stained the grass was blood no longer; and a flower rose gorgeous as Tyrian dye, in form a lily, save that a lily wears a silver hue, this richest purple. And, not yet content, Phoebus (who had wrought the work of grace) inscribed upon the flower his lament, AI AI, AI AI, and still the petals show the letters written there in words of woe. And Sparta's prince in Hyacinthus, her son, endures undimmed; with pomp and proud display each year his feast, the Hyacinthia, returns in the ancient way."

Quotes all link to theoi.com

#30 days of Apollon #dodekatheism #hellenic polytheism #hellenismos #hellenic pagan #for the love of apollo #for the love of the dodekatheon #ares is great #Hail King Zeus and Queen Hera #hermes is my god #Hades is great too #Hestia is a sweetheart #30 days of deity devotion #30 days of devotion

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 5 years

Text

i said i was gonna do the meme Zer0/Hyperion theory from 2017 after the festivities but plans got shifted around and i have a couple minutes until the fireworks start so here we go. wild west pyro this one's for you o7

tl;dr: Zer0 was reverse engineered from Tannis’s notes on Eridians when Hyperion tortured her for the Vault Key and they used E-Tech to build them which is why they look human(oid) and why they use the E-tech rarity color in their splash screen instead of just... red or something. ... also we lost control of the timeline and 0ne was built by Rhys as a replacement for Zer0 once Rhys took over Atlas. we uhhhh didn’t think that one through LMAO

This was taken from a discord chat I had with a friend a couple years ago

i saved it in a google doc

i haven’t changed in years lmfao

im Foster Farren/Me

greg swifthands/xeric is my friend, we ended up swapping to our dnd server to scream about it which is why our names change halfway thru

my edits for clarity are gonna be in [brackets]

Me-Today at 2:33 AM

you know MAYBE THEM ALWAYS HOLDING A HYPERION SMG IS A SIGN [as some official art of zer0 had him with a hyperion smg...]

[i think this is it]

[bonus the hyperion sniper]

[also just for shits and giggles, the null pointer in bl3 is a hyperion sniper zer0 gives to us for the monomolecular edge upgrade]

LIKE WE ALL THINK OH THEY CHOOSE HYPERION BECAUSE ACCURACY

BUT WHAT IF BECAUSE THE OLD HYPERION COLORS WERE RED AND BLACK RIGHT BEFORE THEY MADE IT YELLOW AND WHITE

FUCK Y E S

I WOULDNT BE SURPRISED IF THEY COVERED UP THE WHOLE FAILURE JSUT BECAUSE THEY'D BE ASHAMED OF IT THE OLD GAPING CUNTS THAT’S WHY JACK WOULDN BE ASKING ANGEL

obviously zer0 escaped right

or else they wouldn't be in bl2

Xeric-Today at 2:33 AM

yeah, he fought his way out of the moonbase [helios], and came back to pandora to finish the job

Me-Today at 2:33 AM

fuck YES

Xeric-Today at 2:33 AM

DUDE

Me-Today at 2:33 AM

and did assassinations on the side to cover any costs that come up

Foster Farren-Today at 2:36 AM

OMG DUDE

HYPERION WAS THE FIRST COMPANY TO DISCOVER ETECH WEAPONRY THATS HOW THEY AMDE MILOLION S BY TSELIING IT TO THE OOTHE RS

[the reason im flipping out about E-tech is because Zer0′s splash card in the bl2 intro uses the E-tech rarity color]

[for reference:]

[look at the white bits and also we were thinking the background was eridian ruins but couldn’t make a connection to any we’ve seen... they looked like stone and collapsed arches]

[very similar to e-tech rarity colors]

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:37 AM

oh shit wait, WHAT IF

TANNIS

RIGHT

SHE WAS IN THE RUINS

Foster Farren-Today at 2:37 AM

YES

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:37 AM

AND FOUND ZER(0) IN CRYO OR SOMETHING(edited)

Foster Farren-Today at 2:37 AM

OH NO

ITS SPELLED ZER0

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:38 AM

AND BROUGHT HIM BACK TO HYPERION

Foster Farren-Today at 2:38 AM

TANNIS WOULD NEVER SHEWAS A DAHL GIRL

AND ALSO INSANE(LY) SMART(edited)

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:38 AM

Maybe when hyperion was torturing her the stole her research notes

Foster Farren-Today at 2:38 AM

oh shit

BOY

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:38 AM

and reverse engineered him

Foster Farren-Today at 2:38 AM

CEILING CHAIRS COMING DOWN

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:38 AM

oh f u c k

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:39 AM

Hyperion BROUGHT HIM BACK

Foster Farren-Today at 2:39 AM

THIS PARTY'S GETTING CRAZY

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:39 AM

THE GREATEST ASSASSIN IN THE GALAXY

PAST PRESENT AND FUTURE

Foster Farren-Today at 2:40 AM

i had aa theory that tannis did it herself with the teleportation system BUT THIS IS SO MUCH MORE SENSE

YES

ZER0 IS SIMPLY THE PRESENT

ONE IS THE FUTURE

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:40 AM

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH SHIT

Foster Farren-Today at 2:40 AM

OH SHIT

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:40 AM

OH SHIT

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:42 AM

DUDE

ALRIGHT

REMEMBER TRANSFORMERS 4

Foster Farren-Today at 2:42 AM

THE CODE HAS BEEN REACKSED [... cracked?]

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:42 AM

THE HUMANS BUILDING NEW VERSIONS OF THE ROBOTS

IN T4 = HYPERION IMPROVING ON THE CLASSIC ERIDIAN DESIGNED ZER0(edited) [using E-tech technology]

Foster Farren-Today at 2:43 AM

i fixed it

OH SHIT

YES

AND RHYS

RHYS RUNS ATLASA

OH MY GOD

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:43 AM

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH

HOLY SHIT

Foster Farren-Today at 2:43 AM

RHYS LOVES ZER0

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:43 AM

LMOA

INRGNIERGN

Foster Farren-Today at 2:43 AM

RHYS MAKES A ZER0 FOR HIMSELF LOL

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:43 AM

OHMYFUCKINGGOE

AHHHHHH

Foster Farren-Today at 2:43 AM

IM FCUKCING SOBBING

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:43 AM

YOUGOTMESHOOK

Foster Farren-Today at 2:43 AM

UIMF CUKING SOHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK

im cant my bsotmache bhurts so badly from laughing

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:44 AM

HOLY SHIT MAN IT WORKS AND IM SCARED

SO ONE/MERCY KILLED ZER0'S ASSASSIN BECAUSE HE WANTS TO BE THE ONE TO KILL ZER0

Foster Farren-Today at 2:44 AM

yes

YES

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:44 AM

HE WANTS TO PROVE HES THE BEST

Foster Farren-Today at 2:45 AM

YES

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:45 AM

THE BETTER

Foster Farren-Today at 2:45 AM

THE ONE

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:45 AM

HOOOOOOOOOOHOHO

Foster Farren-Today at 2:45 AM

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Greg Swifthands-Today at 2:45 AM

DUDE

ALRIGHT THATS CANON TOO

Foster Farren-Today at 2:45 AM

C O N F I R M E D

... anyway there it is

i actually was quite fond of the E-tech colors/Zer0 splash screen connection but I could never get anything out of it. maybe in bl3 we’ll learn something new :?

#borderlands #crack theory #this is a shitpost #bl2 #zer0

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luverofralts · 3 years

Text

Post Arkhelios

Abe is dying having to live with his deteriorating family. It seems like forever since he's been happy...it feels like forever since he’s seen Roman. With his parents’ marriage falling apart, he’s been thinking a lot lately about his own love life. Arkhelios is a small place and there weren’t a lot of gay or bi teens to date. There was Jorah, but he was way too young for Abe, and for whatever reason, Abe had always felt the Durant kids were like distant family to him. It would be creepy to try think romantically about them. It also didn’t help matters that if things kept going like they were, Jorah might soon be his step-brother.

Now that the Durants are unfortunately a fixture in his life, Ulyssa some times texts him about life at boarding school in exchange for dirt on her parents. She especially thought he’d be interested in knowing that Roman was having a huge falling out with his family, which was keeping him from coming home to stay with them. Abe couldn't blame him for that, Ulyssa was doing the same thing, and god knows Abe would have left by now if he had somewhere to go. College is still in the distant horizon, and Salem hasn't been impressed with the results of Roman and Ulyssa's recruitment drive, so appealing to Salem likely won't get him out of Arkhelios either. Still, it couldn't hurt if he were to go to the Bellamys and ask if they had a way to reach Roman. Salem had stopped paying for Roman's phone, and the school itself was so old that payphones were too much of a modern inconvenience for the school to bother installing.

Roman's room was still perfectly unchanged since the last time Abe had been there. There were a lot of good memories in this room. Memories of stolen kisses, of pulling off Roman's shirt only to accidentally put it back on inside out later, of his heart racing when Salem called them down to dinner while they were still tangled up in Roman's sheets....why had things gotten so bad between them? Was Abe just idealizing the past, or had he really given up something special when he let Roman leave?

Visiting Roman's empty room had only made things worse for Abe. Now he would have to go home to his miserable family alone. Or so he thought until he ran into Wanda downstairs. Wanda had always been kind to him, and Roman actually seemed to like her as an aunt. In fact, there was a secret Roman had told Abe about her that Abe was desperately hoping was true. Witches and magic were real occurrences in places outside of Arkhelios; Roman was even learning a bit of it at school where witches were abundant and placed in positions of power.

“W-Wanda,” he stammered, “I don't want to be rude or anything, and I'm not going to out you to anyone...I was just wondering if you could maybe do me a favour?”

It barely took anytime at all for the hall to light up with an unnatural glow, leaving only a silhouette of a human shape. Once his eyes had adjusted, Abe could make out the undeniable features of Roman's shocked face.

“Abe? Wanda?” he asked incredulously. “You teleported me here?”

Wanda laughed.

“From what I hear, you certainly couldn’t pull that off yourself.” Her tone was playful, but Roman’s expression fell.

“No, I guess not. Just another thing I’m failing.”

Abe didn’t let him say another word. Roman was in his arms again. Something good had finally happened to him. Wanda left the two alone with a smile, and a promise to help Roman get himself back to his dorm when he needed to.

“I’m so sorry,” Roman sobbed against Abe’s shoulder. “I’ve been such an ass.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Abe cried. “I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Everything here is just terrible without you.”

“Everything at school is terrible. I’m barely passing, my parents have forgotten me, I was so cocky when I left that even Ulyssa won’t talk to me now. I thought I was going to be important, but it turned out that I was really nothing at all.”

Abe smiled.

“You’re something to me.”

Morty was suddenly interrupted from his cat nap by two very noisy teens. Omar’s bed had been abandoned when he moved out, and that room happened to have a lock installed on the door. Morty wasn’t sure what those two were doing, so he watched impassively for a moment before readjusting himself against a pillow and drifted back to sleep.

Abe and Roman held each other in Omar’s old bed until Morty’s constant staring unnerved them into moving to Roman’s catless room. The single bed was smaller, but it’s not like they hadn’t used it several times before. Eventually though, the two had to face reality and talk things out.

“I want to come home,” Roman declared. “Ulyssa is really happy over there, and maybe she has a shot of bringing people to Arkhelios, but even Grandpa has given up on me. I’m not good at any of my classes, and I kind of burned a lot of bridges when I first arrived.”

“It can’t be that bad, you burned a lot of bridges here too, and you were doing just fine.”

Roman laughed.

“Grandpa tried to marry me off to a straight prince when I wasn’t useful anymore. I can’t even be dumped off on someone properly.”

“You would make an awful consort,” Abe said. “But maybe you don’t belong with a prince. Maybe you could belong with me? Seriously this time, no cheating or running off to marry straight princes.”

Roman looked surprised by the offer.

“Just so you know, I’ve slept with Ulyssa and made out with Jorah. If we’re going to do this, I guess you should know that. ” Roman shook his head. “I move to a different country and still only hook up with people from Arkhelios.”

Abe nodded. He’d assumed that much.

“Just so you know, sometimes I hear voices in my walls, and I think my house is haunted.”

“Ookay.” Roman was intially baffled by the admission, but he’d seen a lot since leaving Arkhelios, and the world in general was turning out to be very different than he’d thought it was. “I guess no hooking up at your house then.”

“You know my Mom would kill you if she ever caught us,” Abe laughed. “The only thing my parents can agree on these days is that they really don’t like you.”

Malika pretended to be surprised when she walked into the living room and caught her grandson snuggling with that Chun boy. Very little happened in her house that she was not aware of. It was one of the benefits of being a tarot card reader. She would keep this to herself though; Salem was already too hard on their grandson. He was far too stubborn to realize that pushing Roman too hard would just push him into the arms of Abe and the Helios family. Subtlety was what was needed here.

“Roman! You’re home! What a surprise! I hope everything is okay at school.”

The boys all but jumped away from each other at the sound of her voice, and she sighed. Who did they think they were fooling exactly?

“No, everything’s fine,” Roman stammered. “I was just practicing my homework for magic class by teleporting here and Abe was just walking by, so I invited him in to catch up.”

Abe was beet red, and Malika saw the beginnings of a small hickey on Roman’s neck when he turned his head to look guiltily at Abe.

He must have inherited Omar’s stupidity. Even Kamalani could lie more convincingly than this.

“How wonderful that you’re progressing so well in your studies. Abe, would you like to stay for dinner then?”

Abe bolted up and looked towards the door.

“No, thank you,” he replied quickly. “I think my mom is working late, so I should help my dad make dinner.”

“Of course. “

So the Chuns don’t know about this little romance either. Interesting.

“Thanks for the visit, Roman. I hope to see you again soon!”

Abe walked as quickly as he could towards the front door. When she heard the door close, Malika hugged Roman and then beckoned him to take a seat next to her on the couch.

“Have I ever told you that I once almost dated Abraham Helios?” she asked.

Roman looked appalled.

“Abraham? Gross, what could you possibly see in him?”

Malika pulled Roman closer to her in a motherly embrace.

“He was very attractive as a young man,” she replied. “He had so many ideas and such great potential. When I was your age, I thought for sure that we would get married and shape Arkhelios together. But then he betrayed me like young people sometimes do, and gave himself to nearly any girl he met. When I met your grandfather, I was a little older and wiser, and I knew that we could build a life together instead of following teenage hormones.”

Roman froze in place.

“Abe and I are just friends, “ he lied. Why was everyone in his life so against him dating Abe? He was a Helios through his mother, but that should hardly matter. Still, better not to make his grandparents even more disappointed in him at the moment. Maybe if he and Abe could make it until they were in college, they could finally tell their families to leave them out of their grudges.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Malika said warmly. “The people we love as teenagers so rarely stay in our lives as adults. Friendship is what usually endures over the years. When you’re an adult, I’m certain that this will make sense to you.” She winked and pulled Roman into an even tighter hug. “Now go get Wanda to send you back before your grandfather comes home.”

#ts2 #sims 2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #Roman Bellamy #Abe chun #sims 2 pictures #ts2 pictures

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hamlets-ghost-zaddy · 5 years

Text

st. jude (the patron of lost causes)

Part 3/8

Donald Malarkey x Reader

Summary: Bombs aren’t discerning, they aren’t sentimental, and they kill without discretion. It’s the truth that got you through Bastogne, when men came to you in tatters and their life blood flooded past the stoppage of your hands. It’s the harsh reality that whispers through your mind as you wonder why Renee and Anna died, and not you–why you were sent on a scavenging run at that precise moment. Then, when the church was shelled.

Moved to an evacuation hospital to tend to soldiers with ghosts in their eyes, you meet Buck Compton and his loyal sergeant, a man with a weight on his shoulders unknown to even Atlas. His name means bullshit, and somehow you find that appropriate: what he’s seen, what he’s gone through? It’s complete bullshit.

You fear the still moments, those dragging hours, when there’s nothing to do. When Lieutenant Cox has allowed you to feed him every last spoonful of gloppy oatmeal; when the pain on Captain Halbert’s face eases as the drugs you injected into his arm dilute into his bloodstream; when Lieutenant Jamison’s nightmare screams have been shaken awake and to a stop. When the ward is quiet, you have taken to sitting next to Buck Compton, needle in hands and patching up holey socks.

He spends most of his time staring at a Flash Gordon comic or a copy of War and Peace—one half of the four offerings in the hospital library—and you doubt he’s registering the pictures or the words on the page. Yet, he goes through the motions of reading and seems to find comfort in the normality, so you don’t bother him. You hum a tune as you work, and he quirks a grin before his eyes return to his book. You almost wish he’d say something, if only to save you from your thoughts.

It’s in the quiet moments that you’re left, undefended, against the surge of thoughts of men seizuring in pain under your hands, of wrapping a comforting but superfluous arm around a nurse as she heaves great sobs, of watching a German shell landing on the church in Bastogne, collapsing on everyone inside.

Uninvited, Malarkey’s voice swims to the front of your brain: “It forces me to imagine of a future beyond my foxhole and the next meal of refried beans…it makes my brain stop thinking.”

What about a future beyond a hospital tent? you think, needle moving quickly in your hands.

You imagine Malarkey’s mouth quirking with a smile, never worn for longer than a handful of seconds. That too, he would say. And great now you’re hallucinating a conversation with him. Glancing around, your eyes drift over Buck, reading, over Constance tapping her toes to a song only she can hear as she fills in paperwork, over the men in their cots, as if someone would meet your eyes with a glare, exposing and branding you as crazy, deluded, mentally unwell.

But, no one minds you.

So, you wonder, where’s the harm in imagining Malarkey is sitting there, holding vigil over Buck with you? His chuckle, soft and gusting, echoes through your mind, and even though you’ve never heard him laugh, it feels right. It feels natural, like it’s something you’ve heard—or have meant to hear—all your life. You’ve been bottling things up for too long, maybe telling someone fictional will help, he offers.

Realizing your needle has paused, you bend your head over your work and tighten two quick stitches before you can muster a reply. Interesting that, even in your imagination, he makes something squirm in you. What if I want to bottle things up? What if that’s the point?

Point? he repeats, amusement giving way to mystification.

Your lips quirk, and you know if anyone looks at you right now, they would think you��re absolutely insane. But, with volunteering for the Army Nurse Corps, landing at Normandy two days after the invasion, patching up dying men, how sane could you possibly be at this point? You mentally reply: Yes, the point. Bottling things up allows me to do my job. I’m the caregiver, I can’t force my injuries on my patients—or Constance—or—

Not even in your imagination do you dare say, ‘or you.’

Who protects the guardian angels? Who defends the last defender on the wall? Malarkey replies, and you get the sense he isn’t looking for a reply. A pause, then: Tell me about them. The ghosts you carry.

You would never say their names aloud, not when it’s been only two weeks since you screamed their names until your throat turned hoarse, but it feels safe here, in this pretend conversation, so you think back: Renee and Anna. Two nurses I worked with in Bastogne. I was on the only hospital truck to make it into town before we were entirely cut off, and I helped them in a bombed-out church we converted to a hospital. They…

Before Bastogne, you took comfort in a singular truth: bombs aren’t discerning, they aren’t sentimental, and they kill without discretion. Fate blindly dealt hands to the men and women of this war—you win and cash out, you lose and all your money goes to the dealer—and it allowed you to move away from the still-warm corpses of the boys you couldn’t save. It allowed you to desperately grasp onto some confidence in your nursing abilities even as bombs rained down. Yet, after Bastogne…

I was sent out to find sheets to use as bandages. We were in a desperate way for bandages in those last few days, and I heard the whistling of bombs as I hurried back to the hospital, a big bundle of stained sheets in my arms. We’d need to boil them to sterilize them, and Anna had promised to have a pot waiting and ready for me when I got back. I was just down the street from the hospital, it…

You watched the bomb whistling down from the sky and you knew in that breathless instant, you knew with more surety than anything you’ve known before, that this shell wasn’t random. Names were painted on its sides—though how could the bomb factory workers have known their names?—and Fate dealt a rigged hand. A great plume rose from where the church stood, dust mixing with fire and spraying rubble. The sheets were dropped into the mud as you took off, running.

It was no use, and you knew it before you were pulled away from the rubble. There was no use in madly scrambling through the bricks, nails ripped off and bloodied, but you still had to try. The next day, when the German barricades were broken and reinforcements broke through, you were loaded onto a truck to return to your hospital unit. You swayed in the covered back of the truck, blinking, unsurprised, when Renee and Anna’s faces appeared in the shadows next to you.

But, even in your imagination, you couldn’t tell that part to Malarkey.

Yet, you are sure he understands—he would understand—your silence.

You give an extra spoonful of oatmeal for Buck’s breakfast; Constance gives you a battered copy of Evelyn Waugh, and you let Buck read it first; Doctor Schroder manages to commandeer a crate of Hershey’s chocolate bars and you slip one underneath Buck’s pillow before anyone else. Some part of you feels it’s your way of apologizing for always sitting at his side, hovering over him, but another part knows it far more selfish (a selfish hope that you showering him with special treatment, kindnesses, will somehow summon Malarkey back to Buck, back to the hospital tent, back to you.)

Constance notices on the fifth day of Buck’s stay. The girl has a sixth sense for gossip, or anything that might be spun into gossip. She sidles up to you as you sterilize a stitching needle, used on a lieutenant who promptly passed out when you made the first stitch. Constance had cleaned the skin around the stitches and, after sanitarily disposing of the bloodied cotton swabs, she says, “So. That Lieutenant Compton.”

You pink at the implication dripping in her voice, and you know you unwittingly affirmed her suspicions. She squeaks, “Oh, gosh, I thought so!” She checks over her shoulder, presumably at Buck, sitting on his cot and quietly talking about nothing at all with the man next to him. “He’s awfully handsome,” Constance says on a sigh.

Of course, she’s not wrong. Buck’s an all-American boy: golden hair and blue eyes and shoulders broad enough to cling to. He’s Helios, he’s Apollo, he’s Adonis—the pinnacle of radiant manhood—and you won’t deny it. Still, it makes you squirm, all queasy and knotted, at the thought of having feelings for Buck Compton. At being just like that desperate girl in those desperate letters, begging for him to write back and love her. It wasn’t that you felt superior to that girl. No. It was something else—but what?

“I don’t blame you, sis,” Constance is saying, ignorant to the thoughts swelling and crashing against the rocky coast of your brain. Her hip bumps yours, her wink conspiring. “Once he gets out of here, all repaired and good as new, I’d climb him like a tree if I were you.”

You can’t help a snort and smile.

Constance laughs merrily, all bright bells and twittering sparrows, and the men nearest the work table perk up and smile at her, as if her laugh is a flint stone sparking life in their souls. Focusing on arranging the surgical thread and needles, you hide your smile: Constance was good for these men. She brought a heart to the hospital tent.

And, as she moves away to continue her work, she leaves you with your thoughts.

Why does being regulated to the girl in the letters bother you so much? It isn’t that being attached to Buck (if only in Constance’s fabricated gossip) chafes you, no. Buck’s blue irises in your mind’s eye always blink and morph into the rich, soil brown of Malarkey’s eyes. And though you dare not label whatever you feel growing in your chest for Donald Malarkey, it certainly isn’t that. You wish you could articulate it to Constance without sounding crazed, you wish Doctor Schroder could diagnose you as deftly as he does the other patients. If you’re bluntly honest, though, you wish you could puzzle through it aloud with Malarkey.

He would understand.

Talking to Buck about Malarkey isn’t intentional.

Well, that’s not quite right.

You had thought about it for hours, mentally turning over how to broach the topic as you sat by his side. Every fiber of your being wanted to mention Malarkey but desperately didn’t want to all at once. Internally, you inspected every possible route the conversation could flow, and when you nearly convinced yourself to speak, the imagined conversation would take an unexpected turn and you would unconvince yourself again. As you sat, sewing and thinking, you felt the back of your neck prickle with the awareness of Constance throwing knowing looks at you. You ignore her.

Somehow, letting her think you liked Buck is easier. You don’t have to explain your thoughts orbiting around a sergeant serving on the frontlines with sadness coloring his face and heavying his eyes and how you wanted to let him hold you and you hold him until neither of you understood the meaning of sadness.

It’s this thought, occurring with a startling realization that shortens your breath and stills your thumb from worrying your icon of St. Jude, that finally prompts the words to tumble out. “What’s your favorite memory of Sergeant Malarkey? Something happy?”

Buck, propped up on a heap of Army-issue pillows, blinks at you once, twice. A smile, that smile only Malarkey manages to coax from him, appears. He hums in thought, arranging his hands on his stomach. “Well,” he drawls, stretching the word into multiple syllables. “We had three months back in England after D-Day and before Holland. Malarkey and another guy in our company, More, well, they took out an Army motorcycle for a bit of a joyride.” He snorts at the memory, and you smile along with him. The idea of Malarkey shooting down a road, his laughter caught up in the wind and the speed making him feel alive, makes your heart do something sweetly painful. “And he ran into our old CO—”

“The one who gave him hell for his last name?”

If Buck’s surprised you know this factoid, he doesn’t show it. He nods. “Yeah, him. I didn’t train with him, but by all accounts, Sobel was a real son of a bitch. So, Malarkey runs into him as we’re about to jump into Holland. The motorcycle is strapped to the back of a truck—Sobel’s a supply officer now, I guess—and Sobel knows, he fucking knows, that Malarkey is the one who took it. But, as cool as you please, Malarkey pretends he doesn’t know a damn thing, and Sobel doesn’t have any proof so can’t write him up.” Buck’s laughter is choppy, rusty from disuse, but it fills the hospital tent with warmth once it gets going.

You can’t help laughing along.

(And you know you’ll catch a full barrage from Constance about it, her lips curling into a smirk and her questions growing steadily more steeped in innuendo, but you don’t care. You know you’re not Buck’s girl, you’re not that girl in the letters, but you’re content to laugh along with him. There’s an old adage that laughter is the best medicine and, if it means you get a shred of information about Malarkey’s life beyond the war, well then, you’d agree.)

#donald malarkey imagine #band of brothers imagine #malarkey imagine #donald malarkey x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #friendship #angst #hurt/comfort #donald malarkey #band of brothers imagines #my writing

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