"Hey bug!" I say, walking through the door, after getting back from the book store, "I uh, picked up your book from the store, I was unaware you could wrote Novels like this! It is very captivating!"

My husband hurriedly gets off the phone with his boss, Michelle, and looks over at me with shock in his eyes "Uhh... you picked up my book?"

"Well of course I did! I wanted to support my Number One Supporter!"

"Are you sure you want to read that? I mean, you didn't particular enjoy my last writings, are you sure you want to?"

"Well from what I read so far, its very good! I had no idea you wrote romance novels, it feels so real, so genuine, though the topic seems a bit tabue, the whole cheating spouse thing, but it feels so...real, I mean all the other writing was very much like 'fallout meets the last of us meets call of duty" you know?"

"Ah yeah, it just uh, all clicked together, you know? You really don't need to read it, I know how much you hate Romance Novels"

"No! Of course I want to read it! You spent such a long time on it, I need to read it!"

As the week progressed, I sat down, and read it, front to cover, and back again, It just felt so raw, and so realistic, I never knew my husband was such a romantic, but after reading it, I noticed him doing cute little things for me, buying me flowers, taking me shopping, even cooking dinner for me every once in a while! He is such a sweet heart, he may be making up for all of the week nights he had to stay late in the office, or went to the cafe early on the weekends to finish up his book. The more the days go on ,I just fall further into love with him The other day, I noticed his location was off, I think he is getting ready to pop the big question! I ran to the salon to get my Nails done, just in case! I did find it strange however.

The lady's name in the book was Michelle

So..Spider-Man Homecoming?

I need a sequel to one of these where an Eldritch entity of some sort manipulates your plays so you recreate a spell in an ancient and erased language to summon horrors from beyond the veil.

"Two nations separated by a common language."

Exactly!

Thanks so much!

Superpowers, superheroes, no matter what sort of titles they placed on themselves they were powerless in the moment it mattered most. As the massive rock that was Earth's undoing approached all they could do was stare. Stare as it grew closer, shadowing the spot at our feet. Stare as it mocked them, showing us how truly powerless they were in this moment. But not me.

I felt even worse for Bino-scope, his power of super-sight had allowed him to catch the meteor long before even the scientists and their telescopes. He had been staring all day since, now the corners of his eyes dried and reddened. But I did not worry.

The shadow grew larger at our feet

As Earth's finest stared up in fear, fully suited and bulging with muscles, I did not need to look. I only needed to think of lunch. Of what type of soup I wanted today. Chicken noodle? Lentil? Mom always made a great lentil. Mine never came out quite as good though.

From my utility belt I carefully selected a bowl I liked most, a perfect vessel for the occasion; handcrafted by a shopkeeper whose storefront I'd saved by turning a runaway vehicle into a delicious egg drop. I held it out in two hands to ensure a good grip as the massive rock grew closer. Suddenly the stares of the other heroes burned through me like a hot cup of cheddar broccoli.

"And what is that meant to do, soup boy?" a voice boomed, carried out from Earth's greatest hero. Even near our doom I was mocked.

"It's Souperior, Magnus. You know that. You all do!" I yelled over to the crowd of heroes, now staring. "Now grab a bowl or get out of my way."

A few chuckled, some hung their heads in disappointment, and others, the worst ones, held looks of sympathy on their faces.

"Ok Souperior, what's the bowl for? Humor me in Earth's last moments."

The shadow from the space rock now engulfed the city whole. Above the meteor screamed, yelling through the atmosphere and letting its presence be impossible to ignore. On the streets was chaos: civilians ran to any semblence of safety, cars careened through crowds of traffic, and the heroes, they just watched onward with wide eyes.

I looked up to Magnus, and by extension to all of the others.

"The bowl? Well of course, it's for soup."

Just as the Earth's doom intended to strike down from above I reached up, resting my palm against its rocky surface. In the moment I channeled all my thoughts into one purpose: Gazpacho, and the meteor replied, fighting back with all of its weight. For a moment it was a stalemate. My soupy willpower against the great stones.

But then I felt a weight lift from my arms, and to my right Magnus suddenly stood, muscles in his arms bulging through his copper spandex. The asphalt cracked at his feet as he helped hold the weight aloft.

With both of our might the meteor stood no chance. My hand pushed up through, past the rocky exterior and into a cold gazpacho. Then Magnus delivered the death blow, a mega-ton punch splitting the stone exterior open and sending the cold soup bursting forth and high up into the sky.

For a moment there was silence. The gaggle of various costumed heroes watched with mouths agape as red clouds formed in the sky. Magnus was the first to approach, holding out a bloodied hand.

"May I have a bowl, hero?"

Then one by one they followed, each taking a bowl from my belt and awaiting the soupy rain.

Thanks! :)))

Nah it was good

Chaotic

​

I like it

[removed]

I started experimenting in my cave, mixing different ingredients together to create something new. At first, I was just throwing ingredients together, but soon I was able to create dishes that tasted almost as good as the humans. I was even able to teach some of the other orcs how to cook.

However, my success came with a price. The other orcs started to resent me, wishing that I would go back to raiding, or even worse, that I would leave the group altogether. One night, as I was cooking, I heard a ruckus outside my cave. A group of orcs had come to kill me for my betrayal.

I quickly grabbed my knife and hid, scared for my life. I heard them searching for me, but I was able to remain hidden until they eventually gave up and went away. When I finally emerged from my hiding spot, I was horrified to discover that they had stolen all of my ingredients and left me with nothing.

The other orcs had taken away my only hope of creating delicious food. I was left with nothing but a bitter taste in my mouth. I was no longer an orc chef, only an orc who had failed.

When I had turned that bastard into a steaming bowl of Campbell’s chicken and stars, they called me insane. No one cared about why I had done it. They were too hung up on the fact that I had eaten him. “It’s just soup,” I reminded them. After all, it was.

I won’t bother you with the details. Just know that he wanted to be inside me, so I gave him exactly that.

Now, after ten long years of holding me…now, they need me. I’ve had an easy enough time in prison and, later, the institution, I’ll admit. Nobody wants to become a steaming bowl of bisque or chowder. I get it. But what I can’t forgive so easily is that no one saw my side until now. Now that they need me, they’re ready to lift my sentence, but can they clear my name? Call me a murderer, a cannibal even, but don’t ever call me crazy.

So here I stand, in this wide, open field under the stars, surrounded by my “handlers”. The massive meteor grows closer by the second, and things are getting about as hot as hotpot, right now, but I’m perfectly calm. The ceramic bowl feels warm in my hands.

I look up at the blazing sky, debating.

My opponents were forever frustrated. They would come up with words, only to find out that the letters were no longer valid. I was unbeatable.

At first, I thought I was just really lucky and that I had a gift for language. But as time went on, I began to realize the truth. I was changing the universe to suit my needs.

But then something strange started to happen. The words I formed started to take on new meanings. Words that weren't even in the dictionary suddenly had a definition.

I started to get scared. Had I gone too far? Was I changing language itself?

I decided to stop playing and keep my secret. But then, one night, I decided to play just one more game. This time, I thought, I would be careful.

But it was too late. When I placed the last tile, I realized that I had unknowingly created a word that meant "the end".

I knew then that I had gone too far and that no one could ever know what I had done. I had changed language itself, and for that I would pay the ultimate price.

The universe shifted once more and suddenly I was gone. I had disappeared, leaving only a single word on the board: "Goodbye."

Such a succinct description! I was mad with them! Fantastic writing.

This superpower is insanely strong. It doesn’t matter what power your opponent has: super strength, telekinesis, invulnerability. Turn them into soup and they’re dead. The other heroes are just jealous.

My apartment became my safe haven, as I spent my days and nights within the walls, trying to protect myself from the telepaths. But one night, something strange happened. I felt a presence in my room, like a presence that was trying to uncover my secrets. I tried to stay still, but I couldn't help but let out a scream, which echoed throughout my apartment.

The presence began to chuckle, and I slowly backed away. I felt a chill go down my spine as I realized what was happening. A telepath had entered my home, and they were trying to uncover my secrets. I had to find a way to get away from them.

I made a break for it and ran out into the streets. I felt the presence still following me, trying to uncover my secrets. I kept running, but I could feel the presence getting closer and closer. I was almost out of breath when I reached the edge of the city and into the woods.

I thought I had managed to escape, but then I heard their laughter. The telepath was still following me. I was about to give up, when I realized that I had one chance to save myself. I could use my own special power, one that I had hidden all this time.

I closed my eyes, and I unleashed my power. I could feel the telepath being taken away from me. I had managed to save myself, but I knew the consequences of using my power. I would never be able to return to the city, and I would never be able to tell anyone about what had happened that night. I was now an outcast, with a dark secret that I could never share.

Tucked into an old blue sleeping bag, Jackson let the lapping of the waves lull him to sleep. The sound echoed off the old table that he had overturned to give himself some privacy from Thomas and Sheila. The stars and moon above bounced off the surface of the water, casting the old skyscraper he called home in cold light that sapped the world of nearly all its color.

Five years after the end, he was finally learning to see the beauty in the world again.

It helped that his two companions were able to smile and laugh. Sheila was excellent at fitting into small spaces and spotting useful supply caches. Her memory of the city from before was invaluable. It made sense. She’d been a tour guide. Thomas could mend their gear and get most mechanical things into working condition. Jackson thought he might’ve been some kind of engineer.

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he heard it. A rustling, crinkling noise from behind the table. He narrowed his eyes. Their last foraging expedition had been less than successful, and they had gone without dinner.

Yet that sounded suspiciously like a wrapper.

He’d lost a lot of weight since the end, and sliding out of the sleeping bag quietly was easy. Peering around the edge of his chair, he saw Thomas in the glow of the dying embers from their fire. He was always the last to go to sleep. He was also the one who had lost the least weight.

Now Jackson knew why.

Bare feet padding silently across worn low pile carpet tiles, Jackson managed to sneak around a desk before the crinkling stopped suddenly.

“Jackson?” Thomas whispered. “You awake?”

Jackson waited, holding his breath. He heard Thomas sigh in what sounded like relief, and the crinkling started again. Jackson saw red. Withholding food from hungry friends would be the last mistake the man would make.

He let out a scream as he vaulted the desk. Caught completely by surprise, Thomas yelped and fell off the beaten office chair he had claimed when they staked out this floor as theirs a month ago. He tried to roll out of the way, but Jackson was already on him, fists flying, his knees driving hard into the man’s ribs.

After a few minutes, Jackson felt Thomas go limp. He was vaguely aware of screaming, crying. Sheila’s hands on him, trying to pull him away. He let himself stop.

The man below him was nearly unrecognizable. But the prize was within reach. His hands shot up and he yelped out wordless triumph.

Reaching for the wrapper, he grabbed it. He recognized the logo, a sweet confection from before. The sugar, grease, and preservatives would have made his mom go nuts about it.

But there was something hanging from it. Jackson frowned, lifting the little bit of paper. In Thomas’s tidy handwriting, there was a small message:

> "To: Jackson. Happy Birthday. From: Your Best Friend, Thomas."

r/TenspeedGV

I MADE SI MANY SPELLING ERRORS SORRY

The last of the congratulatory cheers died down. It was just me and him, standing before our loved ones. Me and him: finally engaged. But in the back of our private dining room, a dry cackle steadily increased in volume.

I ignored it. I preferred to get lost in Tristan’s handsome face. Hold his hands. But as the cackling grew, I watched the joy seep out of Tristan’s smile. His hands shrank away from mine and clung to each other instead.

We both looked to the source of the laughter.

I thought it strange that I hadn’t noticed this peculiar woman all night. The old lady wore a long emerald robe laced with gold sequins. An eyepatch obscured her right eye. And she openly laughed in our direction, clapping to herself. Her long golden nails tapped together with each clap.

--

That's what I have so far! Happy to write more if people want it. Otherwise, thanks for reading :)

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

As Blaire closed the book, A lost soul, placed it open on her lap and leaned back in the arm chair with a look of utter surprise on her face. She just wanted to support him. That was all. Damien's book had just hit the shelves. She only planned to buy the book...yet here she sat hours later, with the book finished, completely and utterly baffled at how wrong she was.

Years ago he had started writing a book. One about a typical romance and bits of fighting. Back then. when she read a small excerpt, she merely gave him a placating response. In truth, she found the premise and portion she read to be nothing more than drivel. The plot void of any intrigue and the main character dry. She could not have been more wrong.

His book had started off slow, but after the first chapter, Blaire found herself enraptured with the main character, Wittmore, who at first was a boring everyday man, was in fact a half demon investigating a cultish group that intentions were to disrupt the order of the world using dark magic. Wittmore lived by day as a doctor, by night as a hunter and balanced his day life with the night, with both coming to odds at some points and that was only the tip of things. Every chapter after the first had been twist after twist and filled with betrayals, unlikely allies and steamy romance all building up to the finale.

But the last line of the book was even more unexpected than her enjoyment of it. Blaire's lips curved in amusement as her fingers delicately traced over the last lines of the riveting novel.

To be continued.....

"What are you doing?" A voice said from behind her.

Startled, Blaire turned abruptly, nearly knocking the book from her lap. "Damien, you're home." She said lowly, pushing a stray hair behind her ear.

"Yeah...it's 9pm, I normally get home this time after work." He said plainly as he took off his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the chair, and walked around to sit across from her. It was then that he noticed the book, his book. He stiffened. "Oh." His eyes dropped down. "So...." He started as sheepishly raised his gaze back to hers.

"Damien, I....well..." She started. How did she even begin to explain. She didn't want to hurt him but didn't want to lie either. "It's much better than I thought."

Damien visibly relaxed. "Oh thank goodness...wait." His head tilted to the side in confusion. "Than you thought? But you said it was good before and just need polishing."

"Well yes, I did say that." Blaire admitted plainly. "To be fair this was much different than what you showed me then. Wittmore is incredible and so captivating. And the plot really reels you in. I can't believe you left it on a cliffhanger. I mean sure one big part of the plot was resolved but what about the link he found to being kidnapped as a child, what did that mean? Where is it going to lead."

"Wait you finished it?" His book, The Enima Wittmore, had only released today.

"Y-Yeah, she replied sheepishly. "I...er...couldn't put it down."

He couldn't help but smile at how animated she was about it. She was so adorable. While it did sting a bit learning she had only been nice about it, her pure interest now made it not feel less so. "I'm glad, but you know you could have just told me. Criticism is important in writing."

She nodded. "I won't next time."

"You just want to know what's gonna happen next."

"Well that's true too."

Damien shifted stood back to his feet and walked over to stand before her.

"Wittmore's captivating, huh?" He teased as he braced his hands on the arms of the chair. "How so? Not more than me I hope."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Of course not." She answered incredulously. "Seriously? he's your character."

He chuckled. "All the more reason why I'm curious."

A sudden realization hit her. The corners of her lips twitched upward. "You're not gonna tell me anything are you?"

"Not even a hint." He whispered before his lips claimed hers.

I love yours! :D

I asked my old mentor about it, a day or two afterwards. It didn’t make sense to me for heroes to act like that. He sighed, looking out the window for several moments, before responding.

“I think… There is a vital difference between heroes and good. There is a vital difference between villains and bad.” I frowned.

“Isn’t our, or at least my, whole thing about good versus bad?”

“No, no, not quite.” A smile creased his face, though it already had a lot of wrinkles on it. Apparently that happens when humans get older. “Think about it this way. You’re a bad guy. But are you a bad guy?”

“Yeah, by definition.” He shook his head, chuckling.

“You are a bad guy, by heroic definitions, but you are not a person who is bad. As a whole, you are good.” I frowned, nodding slowly, but he seemed to see my confusion. “Think about it this way. When you first introduced yourself, you could have easily wiped out many of the heroes there. You could have raised a cult like any of the other Old Ones are said to have done. Even now, you hold back your power and true form in order to help train new heroes.”

“Yeah, I’m following.”

“Those are good things.” I nodded again. “You are a bad guy, but you aren’t a bad guy. You are a good villain, a “villain” by title only. You are a good person because, despite having ample opportunity and ability to be bad, you choose not to be.”

“I… think I get it.” I frowned again. “But then what about the quartet?” My mentor sighed.

“That is the opposite issue. They are heroes, yes, but it’s closer to what most would refer to as an anti-hero, straying dangerously close to true villain territory. You have the ability to be bad, yet choose to be good. They, unfortunately, do not have the moral standards you do.” He chuckled. “As alien as they can be sometimes.”

“I try not to be weird around humans!” I protested. “But… Why do they call it efficient?”

“That’s a reliable mark for when people might be going off the deep end.”

“Deep end?” Darn expressions.

“In this case, when they may be straying too close to the dark. It is efficient, yes, but at the cost of people. At the cost of morality, at the cost of humanity. Unfortunately, the quartet, as you call them, may be straying too close to becoming a hazard to everyone.” An uncomfortable moment of silence lingered.

“So… What should I do about it?” He sighed.

“As of now? Nothing, unfortunately. There are already people talking to them about how important it is that heroes fight for civilians, about how combat should be done with as little damage as possible.” He smiled wryly. “If it were anyone else, I would be worried, but your healing abilities are second to none.” I laughed, maybe a bit too loudly for the cafe, as I got a few looks.

“Sorry,” I whispered sheepishly before turning back to my mentor. “It’s not as much healing as much as it is rearranging the damaged parts into a higher dimension and replacing it with untouched matter.” He nodded.

“We really do need to figure out a way to scan your biology. It blew the computers we tried to use last time, but it would be so interesting to learn how it works.” Talk turned to happier things, about the sun, flowers, stars, cats. Cats are fun. I like cats.

I still had work to do, eventually, over the next several days. Build a new lair, get beat up by the quartet, have them ruin a scheme to make all the cheese in the city cheddar cheese. I hardly liked the stuff, but I knew they hated it more, so I knew they’d be determined to stop it. They took a bit longer than I expected, so the device did hit like… a couple buildings, so I was kinda hoping no cheese was stored in them.

They weren’t my only heroes, of course. I worked with a lot of newbie squads amongst different cities. One of my favorite heroines could manipulate plantlife. She kept making flowers that smelled really nice, but made me sneeze a lot. I could have stopped, but I liked the flowers, and it made her so thrilled whenever it “fooled me” again and it let them escape my dastardly trap.

But yeah. Anyways. I was out and about for like… two or three weeks helping newbies teams. And I mean some real newbies. Like, “You are my first villain” newbies. I made sure to add giant ticking clocks to the devices, and also made them take really long to fire so they would stop them in time. Good thing I did too. Would have made it snow in the middle of June if I hadn’t installed remote time-extenders.

Then I get back to the city, which I’m not super looking forward to. It’s not an issue to heal or anything, but I still feel pain. It’s kinda like stubbing your toe, except you managed to stub an entire foot. Not life-threatening even vaguely, but OH MY GOSH DOES IT HURT. Plus I don’t really like the “efficiency” of the quartet, as they call it.

I made my way to where the cafe is, but apparently I got turned around since there was only a burned out husk of a building there. The cafe wasn’t a burnt out husk, so I shadow walked back, and retraced my steps. And… nope, still the burnt out building husk. It was about that time when I started getting suspicious.

Fortunately, there were people walking around. So I did what any person would do: walk up to a stranger and ask for directions. What else?

“Excuse me miss!” The woman looked up at me. “I’m trying to find a cafe, that one the super hero runs, but my feet keep bringing me here. Do you know where the cafe is?” She looked at me with utter confusion.

“...Are you from around here?”

“No… I’ve lived here for a while, but I had to go away on a… business trip.” I had a strange business. The woman nodded, understanding now.

“I see. Hate to break it to you, but that’s the cafe.”

“What, the… burnt building?”

“Yep.” I… Bluescreened, I think, is the term.

“Uh… thanks.” The woman looked past me.

“No problem. And… sorry.” She focused back, but I’d disappeared. Because screw hiding my powers, I had to find my mentor. Simple factor of teleporting to the nearest alley, which scared a few cats and rats, and then searching for his life signature. All humans feel different, if you know what to look for.

Fortunately, he wasn’t dead. So I teleported to where he was. Or, well, tried to. I got abruptly forced out of teleportation several feet away from where I meant to go. Gosh darn hero tower defenses.

“Miss, you were sto-”

“I’m Elda! I wanna make sure my mentor is okay! I was out doing the… New Hero Training Program thing! I was out and about and the cafe was burned down and I need to make sure he’s okay!”

Man, comic ineptitude was fun! I just got to mess around and be overdramatic and goof off, plus I get to make a whole bunch of gizmos and gadgets with shiny red buttons on them. And I even get paid for it! What could be better!... Uh, well, I guess if I didn’t heal so well then it’d be a problem, but I do, so it’s fine.

Oh, I haven’t introduced myself. Hello! My name’s… basically impossible to pronounce, but to the super community I’m usually known as Elda. I’m one of those… whatchamacallits. What do you guys call them? Old Ones? Yeah, that’s it! Relations are a relative term when you exist in uncountable dimensions, but I know a bunch of the pop-culture ones you guys know of. And a bunch you don’t!

So, what’s metaphorically-little old me doing in the big city? Boredom, honestly. All my friends are sleeping for the next several millennia, but I’m awake because I was… well, the closest analogy you’d get is that I was born after they all fell asleep.

I went wandering and found all these little humans, and they’re really fun! Tons of them have super powers of some kind or other. So I went down and introduced myself! There was… a little bit of mixed communication and such, on account of an eldritch-to-humans being popping up, but we’re cool now!

Long, overdramatic story short, I’m a goofy supervillain now. My job is to sort of be the “small-time villain” for new superheroes to train on before they move onto the big leagues. Obviously, I’ve had a lot of practice with holding back and seeming like a near-normal person. Sure, I’ll appear out of the shadows every so often, but why wouldn’t I!? I was built for the stage! A stage that exists in like… many more dimensions than humans can perceive.

But yeah. I’m basically Dr. Doofenshmirtz. Heroes get experience, I get fun, and everyone wins!

In my spare time, I actually ran a cafe. One of the older heroes who helped me get grounded ran it in his off-time, so I helped when he wanted to do other stuff, like maybe mentoring. I ended up running the place more and more nowadays, which made me a little suspicious, but whatever. He’s a cool guy.

These heroes, though, these new ones, ooh did they make my blood boil! Hero work is supposed to be all fun and games! I have a dramatic monologue, they have some snappy one-liner about the power of friendship or whatever, I act offended or something, and then we duel with whatever is around the lair. They win some, I almost win others… It's fun that way.

But then there’s these new guys who… Hrm, what’s a good way to put it. You know how Batman is all edgy and broody? It’s kinda like that. Breaking jaws, getting to my lair hours before I’ve put the finishing touches on my super-device (aka my self-destructing machine), civilian collateral…

That last one always made me upset, way more than I thought it would when it first happened. Humans are kind of like cats. They can have little hissy fits, sometimes they are skittish, but they can be so nice! Even when they scratch you, it’s not because they hate you or anything.

These guys I wasn’t sure. They just were mean and such… for the sake of it. I asked one of them last time and they said something about their methods being “efficient.” That didn’t make any sense to me, since the definitions I knew about the word didn’t line up with their actions.

It had a terrifying form and its eyes were blazing, but it spoke in a voice that was oddly soothing, like a lullaby.

"You called me here, so tell me: What do you wish for?" it said.

I was so scared that I couldn't even speak, but then I remembered that I had been wishing for something before the demon appeared.

"I wish for a world free of suffering," I whispered.

The demon smiled, and for a moment I thought everything would be okay, but then it said, "Your wish has been granted. But, as you wished, so did I. Now there is no suffering in the world, but there is also no joy, no love, and no hope."

The demon disappeared, and I was left in a world without emotion, without hope.

> In the ruins of the kitchen, I stoop down to pick up the mezzaluna knife that Luigi gifted me last Christmas. One of the fine wooden handles is blackened, and the blade has scorch marks on it, but it's still sharp as a razor.

Oh shit. Someone done effed up.