Day VI

Angels Prompts

Angels are not the cute, fluffy creatures the world likes to see them as. They are powerful warriors and are not here to coddle humans.

The wings of an angel are high maintenance and so almost every angel has a companion who helps them out with keeping their wings ready and beautiful.

Sometimes angels like watching over their humans laying in bed. Those destructive little creatures look so peaceful when they are asleep.

All angels are supposed to be siblings. And they do have a family dynamic between them - a very toxic one.

They have been on earth for millennia. Nothing can shock them anymore. Or so they thought.

An angel's wings are powerful, made for flying and fighting. But they are also incredibly soft and wonderful to be surrounded by.

Loving humans as an angel also means watching a lot of them die.

The angels are wandering the world looking like regular people. But if you watch more carefully, it's actually pretty easy to spot one.

They have a job to fulfill, giving to them millennias ago, and almost nothing could get them to abandon that job.

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"Yeah, and it's super cute and silly until the spunky little sidekick dies because they think they're grown up enough to handle the job I've spent the last 20 years struggling with. Not. Happening."

Writing Prompt #2923

"Come on! Everyone needs a spunky little sidekick!"

"Yeah, and it's super cute and silly until the spunky little sidekick dies because they think they're grown up enough to handle the job I've spent the last 20 years doing. Not. Happening."

“I hide behind sarcasm because telling you to go fuck yourself is considered rude in most social situations.”

— Unknown

Day I

"The Embassy is locking up Hero Cave-In for theft two days ago. At 5:26pm on Wednesday, eyewitnesses say she walked in, silent and menacing, crumbled the walls, and grabbed several bars of gold before exiting and flying away. The stash has yet to be found, but the Embassy is holding her in custody until it is found."

Millet turned off the TV and got up. On Wednesday at 5:26pm, Bush was with her sparring. Now they're saying she's a thief. No chance. Millet put on his old suit and flew over to the Embassy just as the holding van pulled away.

Millet walked through the front door to the holding cells and looked at his granddaughter and smirked as official looking people crowded around.

"Sir, uh... Bytewave? You're not allowed here. Please come with--"

"You locked my granddaughter in this lazy excuse for a holding cell with no real evidence that she did anything. She may uphold a moral code of heroics and formality, but I disagree. And if I disagree, I think you'll find it rather hard to hold me. So, before I turn this cell to rubble, I'll ask: Would you please unlock the door so we can go home?"

"Sir, she was caught on camera--"

"My family is very powerful, but we cannot be in two places at once. That is for Emotion and Cosmic. She was with me at the time that she would have done the crime you accuse her of, she is not so fast that I would have missed her travelling back and forth, and she is no thief."

"Of course, everyone would like to believe that their loved ones are innocent. However, we cannot weigh the testimony of a... villain over that of video evidence-- glchk." Mordred held the man up by his neck so they were eye level.

"Now I'm only gonna say this once more. She is not responsible. In fact, based on the footage, I don't think whoever framed her actually knows how she operates. Open that door before you're down a cell. Please." He dropped the guy, but no one moved.

He raised an eyebrow before sighing in defeat. As though on its own, the cell door fell away into dust and he called his granddaughter. She followed, an obvious look of apology, innocence, and pity on her face as she passed.

Bytewave stalked back out of the building, sending into walls whoever dared try to grab Bush. Villain he may have been, but he was not in the mood to kill. Not quite yet. This was not a death-worthy mission. Yet.

They took to the sky, but were not a block from his home, still in eyeshot of the Embassy HQ, when a hero, Sun Yun blocked the way.

"Please move," Bytewave warned, an edge to his voice that warned of violence.

"You're not taking a criminal from her rightful place without going through me."

After a beat of silence, Bytewave replied, "You're right. I'm not taking a criminal. I'm taking my granddaughter. Back home, where she should be. And getting through you? Well, that shouldn't be a problem."

Bytewave got into fighting stance as Sun Yun charged at him. He casually dodged, then grabbed Bush and flew off. Sun set her on fire, knocking her to the ground with the force of the blast.

Bytewave snuffed out the fire and set her down on a nearby rooftop, then rose up face to face with Sun Yun.

"You know I was a villain, right?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"No one forced me to retire. I did it myself. But I train others. I'm not fighting the system every two minutes, but I like to think I'm like a knife, still worth cutting a few weeds." He punched Sun, a harmless sonic boom echoing through the streets, Sun flying backwards. Sun Yun cannoned towards Bytewave, but he dodged, continuing to do so even as Sun released a barrage of attacks, each combo more sophisticated than the last. Bytewave had more trouble keeping up with when one combo ended and another began than avoiding the attacks.

Bytewave pressed his hand to Sun Yun's chest, looked him in the eye with a gaze filled with more disappointment than anger or even disgust, and reduced him to atoms.

You, a retired villian by choice, have just received new about your grandchild, a hero, being falsely accused of crimes he didn't commit causing you to demonstrate why you retired.

decided to put these in a bit of a chronological order as i can’t help but form a story behind the scenes. it’s a storyteller’s habit. and yeah i do have an idea i would genuinely like to explore with gail simone as a crossover comic. 

i don’t want to be the writer for this. but at the same time i always found diving into these things and exploring the character chemistry was the best way to get an artistic feeling for it.

this is also how i usually develop my own stories.

anyhow, while many think this is me drawing some shipping, in fact this a proof of concept for an adventure story  featuring lara and diana. Gail simone at some point asked if they would kiss and i gave it some genuine thought. i am a character first kind of a writer, myself, so i contemplated this. then i decided, yes, probably.

after all, romantic subplots have been the bread and butter of adventure writing since its inception and i always liked that aspect of adventure stories.

 i hope this puts some things in context from my end XD

and while there will probably be a few more of these, there will be no nsfw pics. after all, camera pans away from indiana jones in those moments as well  XD

okay… there may be a chance of a kiss… but that’s about it. 

hi, a lot of you need a perspective reset

the average human lifespan globally is 70+ years

taking the threshold of adulthood as 18, you are likely to spend at least 52 years as a fully grown adult

at the age of 30 you have lived less than one quarter of your adult life (12/52 years)

'middle age' is typically considered to be between 45-65

it is extremely common to switch careers, start new relationships, emigrate, go to college for the first or second time, or make other life-changing decisions in middle age

it's wild that I even have to spell it out, but older adults (60+) still have social lives and hobbies and interests.

you can still date when you get old. you can still fuck. you can still learn new skills, be fashionable, be competitive. you can still gossip, you can still travel, you can still read. you can still transition. you can still come out.

young doesn't mean peaked. you're inexperienced in your 20s! you're still learning and practicing! you're developing social skills and muscle memory that will last decades!

there are a million things to do in the world, and they don't vanish overnight because an imaginary number gets too big

Black!Fem!Venom!Reader

Y/N laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't get to sleep, so instead of doomscrolling for the nth time this week, she did what any bored 24 year old would do with a flashlight and comics on the brain. She decided to go solo and investigate the abandoned factory just outside of town.

She peeked over the railing just inside, shining the light at the bottom. She frowned. The ground was not close enough to jump. She pointed the light around, locating dilapidated stairs that led down into inky blackness. At the end of the stairs, Y/n fell, narrowly avoiding tetanus as she grabbed the unstable metal, yelping.

Somehow, in her flailing, she'd kicked the flashlight back into her hand after dropping it. After the shock of not being dead subsided, she pointed the light down. There, the ground looked up at her, almost mocking her with its proximity. She dropped to her feet, the tired stairs creaking, a mere jump away from escape.

Down a hallway glowed something green. Like a horror movie protagonist, she walked toward it. But she did so quietly, keeping the light trained on the darkness ahead. The glowing goo below lit up her walkway, letting her eyes see in the darkness. She turned off her flashlight, having watched too many plots where the flashlight died right when it was needed.

She went down the hallway, the green goo now behind her. A hole let the faint light of the moon in, bathing everything in a twilight blue.

In the corner of her eye, she saw movement, but kept moving, slowly pivoting around the room, flashlight at the ready.

A (black?) goop plopped onto the ground and made its way towards her. The moment she realized it was moving, she bolted, saving her screaming energy for running.

She jumped up to the stairs faster than she would've thought possible. Whipping around a corner, she slipped and dropped the flashlight. She reached for it, but had no time to dwell on the loss as the black goop was right behind her. She bolted up the stairs, hardly keeping her footing on the old stairs, willing them to get her to the top faster than the goop.

She dove through the hole in the wall she'd come in through, barely sparing a glance at the hole to see that the goop had stopped at the concrete.

She gulped in air, watching the goop, before heading home. Y/n would need to get another flashlight. Oh wait, her dad had bought her one when the blackout had happened, giving her a spare. And worst case, she kept her phone charged. She glanced back through the brush, but saw no unusual movement.

When she got back to her apartment, its dark, quiet atmosphere was comforting. She took a shower and noticed a scratch right under her boob. She cleaned it as thoroughly as she could in the shower. Once out, she got some rubbing alcohol, gritted her teeth, and stuck the cotton ball on the wound. Pain threw stars in her vision and she could swear she saw Orion. After about five seconds (which felt like an eternity) she soaked her cloth with warm water and patted the cut before drying and bandaging it.

She put on her pajamas and went to bed.

Day X

CyP

Like anything involving the government, it took forever for he corpos to gain the necessary power to properly influence the government. However, because the government was structured quite solidly, it never became a puppet. Still, what the corpos wanted, the corpos (usually) got, sometimes with caveats, sometimes without. When they wanted a monopoly, the government said, "Keep the prices reasonable." When they wanted children back in the workforce, the government said, "Keep the place safe and clean." When they wanted cheap resources, the government said, "Make it sustainable." But when the corpos said, "Let's make robots," the government turned a blind eye. It seemed they didn't want to have to govern another set of individuals, so they let the corpos handle it.

Of course, the corpos did just that, and the results were unsavory, to say the least. Then the government stepped in because the people started to say something. So the government said, "These androids are sentient beings." And they were, a small part of why the masses had united to relieve their oppression.

But that was it. Classic government blunder. Not clearly defining something and then it gets loopholed to high heaven. That's when the people stepped in. Even if they couldn't stop the corpos or the government, they could control themselves. So they made clubs and special apartments and parks specially catered to androids. Now not all of them were exclusive to them, such as LOVE.EXE.

But some of them were. One such establishment was The Ring. The makings of a corpo, but run by androids and humans, it was special. It was a setup of fighting, winners and losers alike getting paid by enjoyment from the fans. The Ring was funded entirely by donations and tips, trying to remain nonprofit the best they could in the capitalist hellscape they called home.

It was a place HCTR-1770, better known as Itto, frequented. A heavy machine, he was 12 feet tall and three and a half tons, built to haul hundreds of tons on his own. It was a quirk of EGGS. They over-engineered all their products to maximize efficiency and strength and longevity.

He shuffled his feet like he'd seen on TV. His opponent, Boris, was also a mid-weight machine, designed to protect from military encounters. Itto came in close, waiting for Boris to initiate. Boris started with a body shot. Unlike with a human, an android didn't have as many limitations, and thus could fight freely. Replacement parts were cheap.

Itto returned with a blow to the face, knocking Boris' arm down and smashing his knee into his chest. Most fights ended with a concession, but select few ended with shut downs or death. It was to be expected if you went in there and the corpos weren't going to fuss. They'd just make more. For every android that got destroyed in The Ring, hundreds more were made to do that job. It wasn't too big a deal.

Boris grabbed Itto and slammed him into the ground, straddling him and pummelling him without letup. No breathing meant no needing to stop a flurry. Itto kept his face covered, then reached his legs up and flipped Boris over by his head.

Based on this post.

Demons Dialogue

"Have you ever thought about selling your soul? It's beautiful."

"I'm a demon. I'm bad and evil and cunning, and looking oh so good while doing it."

"Don't ask me if it hurt when I feel from heaven. It did and I will never forgive him for that."

"Urgh, your soul is so pure, I want to corrupt it."

"Demonslayer? What a fun little name for a mortal being shaking in their boots right now."

"I don't want what's best for humanity. I want what's best for me, and sometimes those things are the same. Doesn't mean I'm good."

"You know those crosses just work on vampires, right?"

"Ouch! Why the hell would you put holy water in a water gun? That's rude!"

"Seriously, have you ever actually read the bible?"

"The bad side isn't that bad. We are our own boss here."

"I'm your emotional support demon. Having difficulties making decisions? I'm always there to steer you in the wrong direction."

"Of course I still have wings. And I'm taking good care of them, so don't even think about touching them with your dirty little fingers."

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