#but it's a bit of a pain to have to have to change the rods out so often!

[futuristic-science]

Looking back when I first started to learn about welding and engineering, it's pretty funny-- I started off originally arc welding, since that's the first type of welding I was taught.

...And I was really bad at it.

I'm a fairly jumpy person, so every time the arc would spark, I would jump, and that would either extinguish the arc or stick it to the metal.

Or I would tap it too lightly and it wouldn't spark

I'm glad I learned arc welding first, now, but I have to say MIG will forever be much easier!

[vivwritesfics]

Bloody Knuckles

boxer!max

It was a shitty apartment. The wallpaper was peeling, their was damp on the ceiling and none of the appliances worked. At least half of the windows had to be forced open, and the other half were permanently shut. Neither of them could remember the last time their shower stayed warm for more than two minutes.

Hidden away in the bedroom, he laid awake, fingers brushing up and down her arm. She was so delicate compared to him, his bandaged fingers against her skin unmarred by cuts and bruises. She could break, and he would do anything to stop that.

In her sleep, she rolled over and planted her face on his chest. He bit down on his tongue, stopping himself from screaming out in pain at the sensation. She didn't know just how mad the last fight had been, how bad he had come out.

He was the winner, of course. He always was.

His freckled, pillowy lips met the top of her head. Fuck, he loved her. He loved her more than words could describe. His heart ached. It might have been the pain, or the guilt he was harbouring.

When the sun rose (visible because the curtains left the bottom few inches of the window exposed, and they couldn't get the curtain rod down to change it), he did. He slipped out of bed and she rolled onto his side of the bed. Her face was buried against his pillow when he got changed into his workout gear and slipped out of the room.

The change in his pocket paid for his red bull and he headed to the gym.

His build wasn't expected of most boxers. He wasn't big and bulky, with bulging muscles. That was why people betting on him made so much money at first, because he was the underdog.

But he had been in the game for too long now, and people knew his tricks.

Throwing his stuff into his usually locker, number thirty three, he finished his Red Bull and began wrapping his knuckles.

"Maximus," said Daniel as he stepped out of the shower, towel around his hips. "Big night tonight, huh?" He asked and Max gave a nod. "You got the ring?"

He turned and fished the little black box from his gym bag. That was there he'd been hiding it from her, keeping it at the very bottom of his gym bag.

Max opened the box, showing Daniel the engagement ring inside. It was simple, nothing fancy. A simple band with dainty leaves engraved on it.

"She's gonna love it."

Daniel had never met the woman Max wanted to marry. But he was right, she was going to love it.

Max tapped his knuckles together, shut his locker, and headed out into the gym.

***

God, she looked lovely. Her best pair of earrings dangled from her ears and the necklace Max had gotten her for Christmas hung from her neck.

She'd had the dress longer than she'd known Max. She rarely got to wear it, usually had a bag hanging over it in the wardrobe to keep it safe.

But tonight it hugged her frame just right as she walked on Max's arm. She had no idea where they were going as Max wrapped his arm around her.

But then she saw the restaurant. A gasp left her lips. "Max, we can't afford this," she whispered. And tugged on her arm.

But Max stopped her. "Trust me, liefje, I've got this," he assured her and gave the waiter the name on his reservation.

Dinner with the man she loved. She ordered the cheapest thing possible on the menu even when Max reassured her he could cover the bill, no matter what it was.

She didn't know how Max had made enough extra cash to take her to the fanciest restaurant going. She didn't know the illegal fights he was a part of and the money it was making.

It was going smoothly. The ring was in his pocket, ready for him to get down onto one knee. The weight of it was so damn heavy, Max couldn't wait.

"Mad Max?"

His stomach dropped. That name was never meant to be said outside of the ring. He wildly looked around for the owner of the voice, breaths coming out shallow.

"Let's get out of here, liefje," he said and placed wads of cash down with the receipt.

Unaware of anything wrong, she placed her hand in in his and followed him out of the restaurant.

"Mad Max, wait!"

Max sped them up, pulling her along behind him. "Come on, man! I've put a shitload of money on you!"

Suddenly, Max had him. He pushed the man, a guy he had seen at quite a few ot his fights, against the wall. "Leave us the fuck alone!" He roared, pressing on the guys neck.

He dropped him, grabbed his girl, and sped off.

"What the hell was that?" She gasped, footsteps hurried to keep up with him.

Max shook his head. "Don't worry about it, liefje." His jaw was tight. "It's never gonna happen again."

[itsabouttimex2]

Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-

How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —

Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -

Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-

There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.

Throwing Hands

Bullfam & Monkiefam

“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”

Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.

He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.

“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”

You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.

Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)

I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…

This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.

Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.

He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.

Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.

And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.

Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.

“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”

An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.

One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.

After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.

After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.

So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!

Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!

“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”

His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.

Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”

The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.

He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.

“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”

“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”

Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.

You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.

And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.

He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.

Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Someone is eager to see Mafia Mamma and that someone is me. So anyway.

When a twenty-two year old Steve Harrington gets the call, he isn't in the best spot in his life. Sure, he survived all the Upside Down crap, but his parents finally had enough of his so-called trauma ("the earthquake was bad, Steven, but you can't let that influence your life forever! It's like you're not even trying!"). He didn't get to college and his love life is abysmal, but hey, at least he does something useful now - he's training to be a paramedic and he lives in a small, old flat, regularly calling Robin and his gaggle of kids and hanging out with Eddie whenever possible. So maybe it's not the best spot in life, but it's his.

Well, apparently his great-uncle that his mother never really talked about died and asked that Steve takes over the family business in his will. Family business that is in Italy. Cool.

Look, Steve likes first aid, saving lives and all that, but, after the second shared joint with Eddie, admits he's curious. No one said it has to be forever, but maybe it would help him to try something else for a change. Eddie absolutely approves, squeezes Steve's shoulder, but - a little sadly, it seems to Steve - admits he's going to miss the only person who went through all the shit and stuck around. He even jokes he'll hide in Steve's suitcase and will go to Italy with him. "You know, somewhere far away from the Satanist rep. Well, Vatican is there so that's not ideal, but maybe with no murders and levitation this time, I'd just pass as the weird American?" And without thinking, Steve blurts out: "Come with me."

They land in Italy with almost nothing, Eddie with a beat up backpack and his guitar ("not even death or other fucked up dimensions will us part, Steve!"), Steve with a sports bag full of clothes and graduation pics of his kids plus Robin and Nancy, and his trusted hair spray. He really, really wanted to take his spiked bat, but apparently that would be a hazard on the plane. Go figure.

And of course, the "family business" is full of black suits, guns, rapid Italian threats and on top of that, the other families know that the old head of the family is gone and they smell the blood in the water. Especially when the new leader is barely an adult who looks more like a model than a criminal. And his friend who looks like a criminal? That one looks more like a petty thief or vandal than an actual mafia member. Now is their time to strike.

Turns out, that wasn't the best idea. Not when the doe-eyed metalhead grabs the nearest chair and smashes it repeatedly over the assailant's head while yelling "I-DID-NOT-SURVIVE-BEING-CHEWED-ON-TO-DIE-TO-A-FUCKING-BULLET-YOU-MOTHERFUCKER!" while the new boss reaches for the nearest lamp and, like a bloody ninja, renders three assassins unconscious, then setting down the bloodied rod (goodbye, lamp shade and light bulb) and tells his advisor that he wants a baseball bat, a hammer and a bunch of nails. For...reasons.

They gradually settle in. Steve excels in keeping his family in line by adopting his best mom pose, hands on hips, while sternly uttering "What did we say about excessive violence, Francesco? Hm? If you start there, what do you do when you need to escalate? Why do you start with the worst? And they call me dumb." When his bodyguard cocks his gun and asks who called him dumb and where do they live, Eddie snorts into his coffee. (also Steve later apologizes to Francesco for calling him dumb, but also adds that rules are made to be followed, especially those that save a lot of blood and pain)

As for Eddie, without the academic pressure he becomes and unstoppable language student. He's like a sponge, being semi-fluent while Steve struggles with basic phrases. They study together and Eddie begins feeling more confident, takes up more languages and slowly starts functioning as Steve's interpreter and teacher in one. Also a bit more, when they have to evade another assassination attempt and Steve finds himself laying on top of Eddie, on the ground where he pulled him to save him from a nasty punch, and no one comments on it when they get up a few seconds too late, their lips and faces red.

Eventually Steve becomes fluent as well and that's when Eddie experiences the best time of his life - when they walk together in a market, bodyguards giving them just a little bit of privacy, and someone spits on the ground behind them - "stupid American." But before Eddie can react, Steve throws a bitchy look at the offender and says in perfect Italian: "and you look like a poorly shaved goat, yet I'm not judging."

Eddie howls in laughter and nudges Steve's side. "Careful, Stevie. I might think you don't need a teacher anymore."

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie's waist. In here, surrounded by the bodyguards and his family, he can finally do that. "Maybe not. But I'll always need a boyfriend. Wanna apply?"

[corvusspecialartist]

Tree Hugger:

Mortarion was full of despair. After his current failure… after he was punished by the Grandfather… It was agony… His body could take much.. even before his transformation.. but the agonies bestowed on him… it was too much. He could take it, what was more… it was the show of the Grandfather's love. He had spared the rod for too long.. for it was his fault… He had tried to blame one of the Grandfather's sons.. but no matter. However, it wasn't until the cheery voice.. purred. "I know about it…. They will be disappointed to see you like this… all deformed and corrupted…" His heart sank, true the grandfather knew almost everything about diseases and plagues.. but he had tried to keep this precious thing secret. It was your soul, one of the truest and closest loves he had ever had. It was little rival… no. It was close to Nurgle's love as any. When he looked at the anchor… his physical pain seemed to fade, while his sorrow seemed to increase. It was one of the few clean things…while his quarters on his personal planet were similar… a stain of the Grandfather always seemed to remain. The Grandfather cackled. "How exactly did you think such a soul managed to get into my possession? It was almost anathema… not blessing the tree… and allowing you to have such pretty trinkets! You thought that you could keep secrets from me? Your beloved grandfather?! Now.. that deserves a fresh punishment…" Mortation could feel his primarch physiology change… his moth wings started to crack and break as the GrandFather's magic flowed through him… He felt the scorching heat as his wings started to fall..He cold feel sharp shooting pain underneath his arms… and immediately his stomach started to hurt. He doubled over and felt the acidic vomit come back up through his mask. He tried to take it off but found it glued to his face in a web of diseased skin. With the bile having no where to go, it started to burrow a hole though his neck.. In order to try and take the mind off of the pain… he tried to call up the rare memory before his ascension… to a new master. In the memory, he saw you… wearing in full hazard attire.. while he could withstand the area you were in… You turned to him holding up a small little tree. He thought of it strange… You purred to him. "This is like an old type of tree that could resist the biome type of Barbaurus…so I created something that could maybe survive this and produce fruit.. maybe it could filter out the gas and produce oxygen." He had scoffed at it at the time, seeing it as a foolish proclamation. Barbaurus had always been full of toxic gas, and the people there had lived short and miserable lives.. harvesting the grasses… and filtering the rare non polluted ground water. Barburiusans were a hearty people… so why change that? Now, as he looked at the tree.. and within his current sceneario.. He had to protect the tree… even when he first encountered and converted to the grandfather's cause… when all of the plants died.. it remained. The tree started to wither then.. as Mortarions agonies increased and then stopped. "Do not fail me again. Now…get out." Mortarion was back. He was within his personal quarters… he ran to the tree as fast as his blighted body would take him. The little tree looked the same..yet on closer inspection… there was a little bit on browning on the leaves.

[naomiknight-17]

#i probably come off sounding pretentious when i get excited about radiation incidents#like. uhm actually hiroshima was an airburst explosion so the fallout is minimal. chernobyl however exploded on the ground and included...#hot particles which blah blah blah

I Would Like To Hear More

@chasm-connected

Okay gosh uhm

I am not an expert in any way, but basically what I was referencing is how the different types of explosions (Hiroshima atom bomb air burst vs Chernobyl reactor meltdown) had drastically different levels of fallout

Let me preface by saying that this in no way is meant to minimize the real destruction, pain and suffering caused by the Hiroshima bombing - that is unspeakably heinous, but that is another post. This is specifically about the science of nuclear fallout

When the Hiroshima bomb exploded, it had not yet reached the ground. The heat and shockwave it produced were extreme and deadly, but the radiation did not stick around as long as one may expect. When that kind of explosion goes off in the air, radioactive particles disperse in the atmosphere and die out relatively quickly. Hiroshima today is a thriving metropolis - forever changed by its nuclear history but safe and livable!

Chernobyl, however, is another story entirely. The exclusion zone is still considered uninhabitable. One could visit and even spend a day or two in the area, but living there every day (as some people do, but again, that's another post) could have serious health effects. The ambient radiation levels are unsafe, even miles from ground zero.

Why?

Well. When the reactor exploded, it sent actual pieces of radioactive fuel into the atmosphere, which rained down all over the immediate area. Not particles that would disperse in the air, whole pieces of active fuel rods just... everywhere. There are still tiny bits of these rods and similarly radioactive materials from the explosion just... hanging out on and in the ground in Chernobyl, continuing to put out radiation. This is in addition to the core of the reactor that actually melted down, but that has been largely enclosed and shielded (though as it continues to slowly degrade there is a risk of further contamination to the ground/groundwater - another post!) The little hot particles everywhere? How do you shield or enclose them? How do you even find them all without putting people in danger? If you could, how long would it take?

There's more to it, of course, and if you want to learn more I highly recommend the Half Life Histories series of videos on YouTube by Kyle Hill. He's an actual scientist who can explain this stuff SO much better than I ever could.

[electricopolis-net]

Life in Exile Pt. 3: Stormy Weather

The days turned into weeks, then months. Bob wasn't sure how long he would have to spend out in the relative wilderness of Junk Town, but some time after he arrived, the air began to warm and turn towards summer.

The passing year brought drastic changes the likes of which he'd never seen before. The seasons in Electricopolis were all very samey, with only the feel of the air and the changes of television and coffee shops indicating the passage of time. Out here, the earth grew softer, the air grew warmer, and the grass began to green while flowers sprung up from the earth.

The changing seasons also brought a familiar crackle in the air that made the hair on the back of Bob Sparker's neck stand on end. When he felt it, he raced back to his and Percy's ramshackle house on the beach almost as fast as the rumor that spread through the town: A storm is coming.

He'd been putting away bits of metal and discarded gadgets for just this occasion. He latched them together and wrapped them with wire, a collection of antennae from long-discarded radios and automobiles until he had a long, flexible rod that swayed and twanged in the air.

"What's that for?" Percy asked, but Bob only looked at him, grinned, and raced out into the plains that surrounded Junk Town. In the distance, thunder sounded.

Percy looked after him, and then his face paled. He closed the book he was reading, jumped to his feet and ran out after him.

It was exactly what he had thought. Bob Sparker had grabbed his homemade lightning rod and was waving it back and forth in the fields, cackling. "Come on!" he shouted, his lightning rod going thwipp in the air as he whipped it back and forth. "Is that the best you've got?"

Percy cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled towards him. "Bob!" he called out. "Stop this foolishness and come back inside!"

"I'll be in in a second!" Bob said, still waving the thin, flexible lightning rod in the air. It bounced off a nearby tree. The clouds began to darken. "Just give me a minute!"

Realistically, there wasn't much Percy could do. If he got close to Bob, there was a good chance the lightning could strike him too, and it would do far more damage to him than it would Bob. While he was contemplating this--

CRACK

--a bolt of lightning flashed in the air. There was a thundering BOOM with it, and Percy nearly flew backwards. Bob's laughter paused, his breath catching in his throat--and then he cackled louder than before. "Now that's more like it!" he hollered, jumping to his feet. "Again! Again!"

"You idiot," Percy grumbled. "Didn't you learn your lesson last time?" He cautiously drew closer to the laughing man and reached out a hand to grasp his shoulder. Then he pulled back, hissing in pain. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, boss," Bob laughed, and the familiar high-pitched mania was back in his voice once more. "I'm a real live wire! Didn't you know that? Hee hee hee!"

"You're a menace, is what you are," Percy growled. He took off his coat, turned it around, and used it as insulation while he grabbed the squirming Bob Sparker in both hands. "You're coming with me!"

---

Bob was a nightmare. Percy barely got him across the threshold of their house before he began thrashing and banging his heels against the floor. "Stop that!" Percy snapped. "You're going to bring the house down if you do that!"

"I don't care!" Bob howled. "I wouldn't have to live here if it weren't for you! I hate this place!" he wailed, sparks flying. "I hate everything here! I hope it burns!"

Percy gritted his teeth. "It will burn, if you're not careful," he admonished. "This place is nothing but wood and scrap metal, you idiot!" He reached out and grabbed a coil of rope from off of the floor. "Stay still!"

"No! You're not tying me up! Not like that no-good Dr. Flask!" Bob protested. He smacked Percy's hand away, then heaved him backwards until they were rolling around on the floor. He straddled Percy's hips and grabbed at the older man's shoulders, banging him backwards against the floor. "I won't let you, you hear me?"

Percy could barely think. Out of desperation, he pulled an arm back, cocked his fist and rammed it straight into the side of Bob's face. Bob yelped, falling back, and Percy scrambled to sit up.

Bob was dazed, but he was bristling all over, as if the electricity within him was causing his skin and clothes to shudder. He sat up, then lunged at Percy, who quickly wrestled him around and wrapped his arms around him from the back.

Bob's head was craned backwards, his body stiff and arched, his eyes wild. His teeth were gritted and his jaw was set so tight that Percy was afraid he would bite his own tongue. "Calm down," he insisted, wrapping his arms around Bob tightly. "Calm down!"

I need to get him to discharge, Percy thought. There's no good way to do that...there's nothing to ground him here. Except...

Percy placed his free hand on the ground, then tilted the other and shoved the side of it, the meaty side, into Bob's mouth. The uncontrollable man immediately latched on to it, bringing his teeth down so hard Percy had to fight not to let out a yelp. Immediately he felt the waves of electricity rip through his body, tensing his forearm up. He couldn't have pulled his hand away even if he wanted to. 

It felt relentless, but the entire ordeal likely only lasted for a couple seconds at most.  As Percy's vision blurred, he slowly slumped against Bob, groaning, a horrible buzzing still vibrating in his ears. His hand hurt--it was clearly bleeding, but it also burned, as if it had been held too close to a fire. His muscles slowly relaxed, aching, one by one. It was as if he was feeling all the pain in his body in bits and pieces, too much to process all at once.

Bob sat up against him, panting and heaving. Slowly his tightened jaw dislodged, letting Percy's hand fall, and Bob let out a hiss of pain as he rubbed at his chin. "Percy?" he croaked, his voice hoarse. "Mr. King?"

Percy said nothing. He only sighed, exhausted, his weight pressing down on Bob's back. The other man turned around, extricating himself from Percy's grip and grabbing his shoulders. "Mr. King?" he said again. "What happened?"

Percy would have laughed if he could have. Instead, he closed his eyes.

---

Percy woke up some time later. He expected to see the white walls of a hospital, but instead, to his immeasurable disappointment, what he saw was nothing but a ceiling of wood and tin. 

"Mr. King?" Bob Sparker leaned over him, craning forward. "Are...are you okay?"

Percy lifted his sore and aching hand. "I'm all right," he wheezed. He turned his hand back and forth, realizing it had been awkwardly bandaged with a cloth. "Did you do that?"

Bob nodded. "I know it isn't much. I'm--I'm sorry," he choked out. "I hurt you really bad, didn't I?"

"It's fine. I gave you quite the black eye, myself," he sighed. "I didn't have much of a choice."

"I didn't even notice." Bob gingerly touched the bruise around his eye. "Mr. King...Percy..."

"Yes?"

"Why'd you do that? I mean--let me shock you."

Percy thought. And after a moment, he responded: "It was the only way to make sure you'd be safe."

Bob collapsed on his chest. "You're just like her," he wailed. "Margaret did the same thing!"

Percy paused for a moment as Bob sniffled. Then, he raised a hand and put it on Bob's head, resting against his fine white hair. "Bob," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean...about everything that's happened. The city. You. Me. Margaret..." He let out a long, slow sigh. "I really made a mess of things, didn't I? All because I was too afraid to do the hard thing. The right thing."

"I...I messed up too." Bob sat up, still trying to stifle his sobs. "I'm sorry. I kept saying I didn't want to hurt people anymore, but look what's happened again." His voice betrayed his frustration. "I never wanted to hurt you. Not like this."

A long silence fell between them.

"Bob," Percy said hesitantly. "I know it's not my place to ask this, but..."

"What is it?"

Percy placed his wounded hand on Bob's shoulder. "Let's not fight anymore."

Bob grasped it in his own hands, as gently as he could. "Okay," he whispered, nodding. "I'd like that."

...They didn't notice it, but far away, through the woods and over the dusty valley beyond, the clouds above Electricopolis had begun, quietly and gradually, to disappear.

[dpsisquared]

(About the soulmate au)

...More than Sothis contacting Dimitri directly in his mind i thought more of sothis wacking the divine pulse like a faulty tv remote until something clicked and somehow he started remembering the time loops... he somehow keep doing things differently each time w different results (executing Miklan, forgiving Miklan, fixing his relationship w Felix, getting into a bigger fight w Felix, forgiving the western lords, having Silvain and Ingrid killed, saving Silvain and Ingrid, finding out even more about Anselma, etc.) until he thought he was actually going crazy and broke down to Rodrigue and Rod told him about the old legend of loog and the maiden of the wind bc he realizes Byleth's death is the common denominator... aka Dimitri's time itself is locked into her existance... and he starts to find more abour her and becomes intrigued w her... 😃

The sothis dragging him by his ugly hair was more like, Sothis fucked up and he accidentally got dragged in the time loop, whoops... SO technically not a soulmate au but they all think it is because of the legend.

So since the legend says the only way time advanced for Loog again was to receive the love of his maiden I guess Dimitri will have to put all of his efforts into seducing the beautiful fish eyed mercenary... for ⋆🌟✪✨ Faerghus ⋆🌟✪✨...

I haven't abandoned you, nonny. The problem with actually writing this is that it would necessarily include a lot of fighting lol. But I do love the idea of him figuring it out. I changed it up a bit but I hope you like this silly little snippet I wrote 😊

Dimitri could take this torture no longer. He hurried into Rodrigue's tent, drawing the flap closed tightly.

The former Duke read his mood without a word. "What's troubling you, Your Majesty?"

"Rodrigue, this may sound mad, but I am reliving the same day over and over again."

The older man's face paled, and he put aside the documents he was studying. "Reliving what day, exactly?"

"This one. We go to battle and encounter Jeralt's Mercenaries before reaching the main imperial force. But we never get past that part. After the Ashen Demon dies, or if I die, I wake up to the same day. I've lost count of how many times it's been so far."

Rodrigue was silent for several minutes, probably considering how to keep the Kingdom afloat with a delusional king.

"You're absolutely sure it's the Ashen Demon's death that causes the events to repeat?"

"Yes. The last time, I faced her myself and felt time pulling me backward as soon as the light died from her eyes. It's hazy, but I know at other times, she has killed me. But death never comes. I simply wake up to do it all again."

"Your Majesty... Dimitri," he said with a sigh. His old friend looked like he had aged a decade in the last few minutes. "There's something your father didn't get a chance to tell you. A special circumstance of your Blaiddyd blood."

"Is it madness? Hallucinations?"

Finally, Rodrigue's pained expression softened, and he gave the king a reassuring smile.

"No, my dear boy, nothing like that. It concerns your soulmate."

He scoffed. "This is no time to think of romance!" The royal advisors would disagree, of course. They hounded him about his lack of heirs daily, and he was sick of it.

But Rodrigue held up a hand to silence his protest. "Hear me out. There is a legend about the soulmates of Faerghan kings, going all the way back to Loog and the Maiden of the Wind."

"Spit it out, man, please!" Dimitri begged. Legends and soulmates? What importance could those trivial things have at a time like this?

"The Ashen Demon is your soulmate, Your Majesty."

Dimitri gave him a flat stare, waiting for clarification. But the other man was silent. "Is that some kind of twisted joke? You think I could love a monster like that?"

In some of the timelines, he'd seen her cut down Rodrigue himself with no remorse! Though, now that he'd lived the day from several perspectives, she only did that after Shez killed Jeralt right in front of her. Not that the circumstances justified the murder, but how could he condemn her when he held the same hatred in his heart?

Which is why this soulmate talk was truly unbelievable. It was just as unlikely that anyone could love a monster like him.

He looked back to Rodrigue, who seemed to be waiting for the shock to subside before continuing.

"You're aware that Loog and his wife first met on opposite sides of the battlefield."

"Yes, of course. Everyone knows that story. When Loog saw Deichtine, he dropped Areadbhar and beseeched her to join his side, for he would rather die than harm such a beautiful and talented warrior. When she lowered her sword and took his hand, the soul bond manifested."

Ashe and Ingrid loved the story, but it had always struck Dimitri as unrealistic and unnecessarily dramatic. More likely, both sides had suffered major losses, so the two commanders arranged a political marriage to avoid further bloodshed. Count Rowe had not-so-subtly suggested the same strategy to soothe relations in the West.

"Yes," Rodrigue confirmed. "That is the version in the storybooks. But the secret legend handed down the line of Blaiddyd is that Loog killed Diechtine when they met on the battlefield. The king stooped to take her head just before she took her last breath, and the soul bond formed. He cried out to the goddess to save her, to take his own life if needed."

Dimitri had leaned in, drawn to this version of the story much more than the original.

"The goddess took pity on the soulmates, unfortunate enough to be born in a time of war. She decreed that she would save Diechtine, but the descendant of Blaiddyd must win the heart of his maiden fairly, without revealing their bond. And by doing so, end the war which caused suffering for the Goddess' beloved people. The day would repeat endlessly until he was able to accomplish the feat."

"I understand, but what does that have to do with me?"

"The problem is, the goddess wasn't exactly specific on which Blaiddyd descendant, which maiden, or which war. Situations with the same broad characteristics have presented themselves more than once throughout history."

Dimitri had always thought the goddess aloof, but this information put her in a new light. Maybe she was simply incompetent.

"So this curse has been passed down to me."

Rodrigue raised an eyebrow at him. "Most people would consider a guaranteed soulmate a blessing, Your Majesty."

"What a burden," the king replied. "It's hard to believe that more than one of my forbears have met their soulmates this way."

Rodrigue failed to completely suppress a smirk. "Ah. Well, your line appears to prefer its lovers... feisty."

"Rodrigue!" Dimitri cried, blushing furiously. "To say such a thing at a time like this!"

He'd never thought of such things, not when there was a kingdom to run and thousands of people whose lives depended on him! And he had certainly never considered his... preferences.

Although, thinking about it outside of the heat of battle, the Ashen Demon was quite lovely. And her skill was beyond compare... Gods, he sounded like Sylvain.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," Rodrigue said with a chuckle. He didn't seem terribly repentant. "Circumstances aside, I for one am happy to know you have a soulmate. All of us have tried to get you to take better care of yourself. Perhaps she will be the one you finally listen to."

The man across from Dimitri may have been like a second father, but this was no time for levity! Wasn't his misery obvious?

"There's one thing I don't understand. How did Loog convince Diechtine of their love in mere moments upon the battlefield?"

"That's the other secret. The king actually snuck into her tent before dawn broke, so he had several hours to woo her. This was after many attempts, of course, each one teaching him something new about the maiden. The conversation on the battlefield was merely a performance for their troops to see."

"He... wooed her," repeated Dimitri in disbelief. "I have to... woo the Ashen Demon? In less than a day?"

"Cheer up, Your Majesty!" said Rodrigue with a good-natured pat on the back. "We already know there's something she'll love about you. We just have to figure out what it is!"

Dimitri left the tent with a tempest swirling in his mind. He knew what he had to do. It would be difficult, painful even, but this wasn't just for him. It was for all of Faerghus-- no, all of Fodlan-- so he would do whatever it took, no matter how humiliating.

He walked into the mess hall like a man condemned and mindlessly piled something onto a plate. Bernadetta would probably be horrified by his meal, but there was no time to consider something as inconsequential as food. Scanning the dining room, he spotted his target and sat down.

"Hey, Your Majesty! Look at you, eating while the sun is up!"

He rolled his eyes. There was no point delaying the inevitable. "Sylvain, I need your help... with a girl."

(Diechtine (DECH-tin-uh with the ch like in the Scottish loch) is a mortal woman that the god Lugh had a baby with. That was the mega hero Cúchullain, who interestingly is described as going into a "blood rage" during battle. Fergus (Faerghus), Ferdia (Fhirdiad), and Derdriu are also associated with this crew!)

[catws-anniversary]

We've crossed over 200 works! An incredible achievement and thank you to all the creators who have participated in this event over the past week and a bit!

THEME: BUCKY BARNES

Mend My Shattered Existence by @grownfairytale [fanfic, m, steve/bucky]

Bucky Barnes by @meidui [gifset]

i'll look after you by @howliesbarnes [fanfic, m, steve/bucky]

what gives a ghost nightmares by @gyokujyn [remix, bucky barnes, steve rogers]

One bright morning changes all things by @rillils [fanart, steve/bucky]

Bucky Barnes by @skullfragments [fanart]

The Winter Soldier by @buckys-wintersoldier [fanfic, t, bucky/reader, reader insert]

Prompt: "But I knew him"

"but I knew him" by @metalbvcky [gifset, steve/bucky, bucky barnes]

Of Returns and the Memories of Distorted Nostalgia by @vostok3-ka [poetry, bucky barnes]

"But I knew him" by @ace-bucket [fanart, bucky barnes]

past tense by @gyokujyn [remix, steve/bucky]

Prompt: Bank

but spare the rod and spoil the child by @gyokujyn [remix, alexander pierce, bucky barnes, brock rumlow]

ya gotov otvechat by @gyokujyn [remix, bucky barnes, hydra trash party]

thaw. by @winteratdusk [fanfic, bucky barnes, whump]

Prompt: Ghost Story

Inseparable on schoolyard and battlefield (Day 8) by @voylitscope [fanfic, g, steve/bucky]

the beloved name, exiled by @vivelarevolution13 [poetry, t, steve/bucky]

a ghost story by @gyokujyn [remix, winter soldier, steve rogers]

ghost story by @maplefiasco [gifset, bucky barnes]

Prompt: Memories

On Purpose by @unlifeira [fanfic, t, steve/bucky]

Memories/"but I knew him" by @yourbuckies [gifset, steve/bucky]

and then you remember by @gyokujyn [remix, winter soldier]

Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List [rec list, steve/bucky]

baby did you forget to take your meds? by @gyokujyn [remix, steve/bucky]

Prompt: Metal Arm

hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page by @blackwood4stucky [fanfic, e, steve/bucky, omegaverse]

For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Ch.8) by @mandyyvibes [fanfic, m, polyamory]

Prompt: Revenge

Revenge by @nekoannie-chan [fanfic, t, brock rumlow]

i kicked off bucky's world revenge tour 2k14 and all i got was half-drowned in the potomac by @gyokujyn [remix, bucky barnes, steve rogers]

rlb by @gyokujyn [remix, steve/bucky]

i've always been an overachiever by @gyokujyn [remix, bucky barnes, steve rogers]

Other works

when morning comes too soon by @thebrooklynnway [fanfic, e, steve/rumlow, omegaverse]

"he's the first LGBT Captain America!" by @skullfragments [fanart, mcu cast]

"Did you write that down first or was it off the top of your head?" by @skullfragments [fanart, sam wilson]

[env0writes]

Impure Pilgrimage, 5.9.24 “Twisted and Turning"

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by my friend Mika

Eerily marked Irremarkably stark Star-crossed embossed Emboldened by fear Near to my heart Start walking Talking side-by-side Hide the thought Caught in the pier pylons Why long, when you can yearn Earn a bit more of presence Be present, Demeter Meet her in the amber grains Pains are taken Wake and palms well up Cupped, holding like pomegranate seeds Daughter I should have taught her, better Met her, more than in crossing Glossing over details What entails, after the cyclops sifts through our entrails Fails to hesitate where I did Rid me of this guilt Wilt, oh, flower of forever-now How am I to make it home Foam from the sea rising higher Liar! Slung like stones at my storm-scored back Back is where I want to go, where I want to take You cannot make, me change Age will not crush me as sand Against what was planned, I will defy the gods Rods against me never sparred This child fared better than I, without me See how they answer my query? Is the answer not eerie? In theory, the fruit rots close to home Tomes full of these stories repeated Beat into my head Led me to the greener fields over-oceans Motion me closer please Ease with me, the crops are listening Glistening in the morning light Might you tell me the way to go Show me the path Before wrath is revealed from reason Ease into eerie sleep Sleep with stained hands and heart Start tomorrow washed by the sea See the world with new eyes Wise as that is his plan varies against our wills Fills us with fear at each mark

[spideystevie]

love the new prompt list!!! what about #10 with steve?? please and ty honey 🫶

hi honey! i hope you like it <3 (0.6k) 

10. “we need to get you into the shower. you’ll feel much better afterwards.” 

Cold season in Hawkins seemed to spread like wildfire this year. You’d caught it once briefly, and then again once more which made you grumble and pout because it wasn’t fair you got it twice while Steve remained the epitome of health. 

He doted on you each time, ever the attentive and sweet boyfriend. It made your heart swell in your chest but you knew with his close proximity to you it was only a matter of time before he got his own turn at awful congestion and sore throat you had caught twice already. 

It took a week before he got his first bout of sniffles but he played it off to the changing weather and early mornings. But then came the constant, scratchy itch at the back of his throat and then the aches until Steve was finally willing to admit he was sick. 

He felt miserable, keen to stay curled up in his bed and moping until he was better. You seemed to have other plans.

“We need to get you into the shower,” you say, keeping your tone light as you nudge him. Steve groans and shakes his head. 

“I don’t wanna move,” he whines, trying to burrow deeper into his cocoon of blankets on his bed. You’ve always known Steve to be, well, a bit dramatic but when he was sick it was always worse. A sigh escapes you.

“C’mon honey,” you’re hoping your voice sounds soothing as you try to separate the blankets from his body. He scowls at you. “You’ll feel much better afterwards.”

He huffs, fixing his eyes on you in an almost unspoken staring contest. When you don’t waver and only widen your eyes the slightest bit in a silent plea, he blinks once and relents. 

“Fine,” he mutters, pushing the blankets off his body. You smile, a little triumphant as he stretches when he gets out of bed. His hair is messy and his skin looks a little clammy. 

“You want me to help you?” you ask. Steve turns around halfway to the bathroom with a halfhearted smirk and you roll your eyes. “Not like that you loser.”

He lets out a loud laugh which only sends him into a brief coughing fit. He shakes his head when he gets it under control, clearing his scratchy throat and tries not to wince. 

“I’ll be okay,” he says and you nod. 

“Make sure the water’s nice and hot,” you say, words a little rushed. “The steam’ll help.”

Steve nods once with a small smile. His heart feels a little fuzzy around the edges, clouded with the simple ways you’re showing him you love and care about him. Even though he knows he can be a bit of a stubborn dramatic pain when he’s sick. 

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the squeak of the shower turning on. Through the doorway to the bathroom you can see a sliver of the mirror start to fog from the steam that floats in wispy curls. You set out fresh pajamas for him on the bathroom counter and situate his next dose of medicine while he showers. 

You’re propped up in his bed reading, when the water shuts off and the shower curtain squeals against the metal curtain rod. It’s a few minutes before he comes out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and skin a little red from the water temperature.

He all but slumps against you when he gets in bed. You smile, lift your arm holding your book so he can settle his head against your chest. Your other hand finds its way to his hair, combing through the wet strands and lightly scratching at his scalp. 

“Feel better?” you ask. All Steve manages is a hum, a content, sleepy smile on his face.

[herecomethatboi]

Together (Evan MacMillan (The Trapper) x Gn!Reader)

A little angsty/fluffy fic, since i've been feeling down lately :,)

I'd like to apologies for any grammar mistakes that I may made. English isn't my first language and my autocorrect is a pain in the ass.

Warning! There will be cursing here!

_________________________________

"Do you even love me?"

The question rang in your head as you were fixing a generator. The cold and raspy voice was unforgetable, especially since it belonged to Evan.

It was always a surprise when he talked. It's not like you minded, in fact, you encouraged him to do so. You felt more confident and comfortable with him, so you wanted to give him back the feeling.

Your relationship started out on a rocky path with lego pieces and sharp edged stones every step of the way. But with time, you two warmed up to each other.

You could never forget the first time he held your hand. He brushed the top of your hand with his thumb as he hid his face in your shoulder.

Or the time he hugged you. He always did it so gently, not wanting to hurt you.

Evan was a stone-cold fella. Affection stood far away from him, he even hated physical touch, but it all changed when you appeared in his life. His walls were slowly crumbling down bit by bit and somehow he didn't mind it.

The slow building of trust and love came down the moment he asked the question.

It wasn't agressive. It wasn't demanding, but emotionless. Like the past months didn't happen at all.

And it bugged you.

Of course you love him. Why would you be with him, if you didn't? You were his rock. A shoulder to lean on to. Does he not feel it? Why is he doubting what you have? Did something happen?

The generator popped as it finished.

You stood up, brushed the dust off of your hands. You turned toward the exit gate and slowly creeped toward it while listening for the Huntress' lullaby.

You pulled the lever down and saw Meg run toward you.

When she arrived next to you she sighed and leaned against the wall next to the lever.

"You've been hooked?" She asked as she rolled her shoulder to ease the pressure from the joints.

"Yeah, two times, you?" The gate opened and you two walked inside, while waiting if someone else wanted to join the party.

"Same here. David wasn't even once."

"Lucky tough son of a bitch." You huffed and she grinned.

"He's a big softie though. You just gotta let him in."

"I'll take your word for it." That moment David arrived. He looked confused at the both you, Meg laughed while you shrugged and grinned. The three of you walked out as the Huntress was closing in.

The trial was good, aside from Ace accidentally running into the Huntress when he was already hooked two times and getting hooked one last time.

When you got back, you weren't at the camp.

Instead you appeared right next to Trapper, who was just as surprised as you. Both of you stared at each other, his mask was off. This is the first time you've seen his face.

You quickly snapped out of it and hugged the fella close -of course, baing careful with the metal rods sticking out of his back-.

It's been awhile since you last seen him, so it felt natural to embrace him.

He tensed up for a moment, but hugged you back and hid his face in your hair, not wanting you to stare at his bare face any longer.

He told you before that his face is hideous.

It's really not.

His skin burned, scars scattered everywhere. You didn't expect him to look like Prince Charming, or anything.

To be honest, you expected something worse.

The two of you stood there, holding each other close, while your thoughts were a non-stop roller-coaster of emotions and doubts.

"I love you." You whispered as you looked away. "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner..."

Evan huffed, but held you even closer and moved to rest his face in your shoulder. Still hiding.

"I was shocked..." You continued, "But I really do." You leaned against his head and gently caressed down on both of his arms, massaging the tense muscle.

He melted into your arms and sighed.

"I know." His voice came out like a deep rumble. It was raspy, so much more than it usually -which isn't a lot- is. "I'm not good enough for you."

"What?..." You tried to look into his eyes, as he leaned away. Evan looked away, still not wanting to meet your eyes. "Evan..."

"You deserve better." You ran your hands up his arms and gently held his face, turning him toward you. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "You should be with someone better, I hurt you too many times..."

"Even if I deserved better, I'd still want you Evan. I'm with you because I want to be." You kissed him, then pressed more kisses around his face. "You're enough. You deserve me as much as I deserve you. And I love you with all of my heart."

"No..."

"You're strong. You're brave. You're handsome. And you're enough. You deserve the best, and I will give you not only that but more."

You've never seen Evan cry. His facade of cold-blooded killer never seemed to break, until now.

His tears were flowing down one by one on his cheeks. You wiped them away with your hands or small kisses.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice breaking a little. His confidence disappeared and seemed so much smaller than he actually was.

Evan never apologised for anything, but this made him reach his breaking point.

"Don't be." You whispered back and continued to kiss him until his tears stopped. He smiled just a little and opened his eyes to meet yours.

"You're my only reason to keep going..."

"And you're mine. I love you too much to let go, Evan."

"I love you too..."

The two of you continued to share soft kisses while embracing each other.

The road forward is still full of ups and downs, but you know that the two of you will survive every single challenge that may come in your way.

Together.

[therantsofawriterrr]

The Umbrella Academy Final Season: My Version

Part Six: We Put The Extra in Extra Ordinary

Overview: With their powers restored, the gang gets new information, a new friend and decides to go on a road trip.

TW: mature language, mention of throwing up once, tell me if i missed anything Pairings in the chapter: a little bit of Diego x Lila, a teeny bit of Five x OC A/N: hello, first of all, tysm for all the love you've given this series, I'm thinking of opening up a taglist for this series, if anyone wants in, pls comment, tysm again.

Masterlist

There were specific ways that the Hargreeves got to know that their powers were back.

Diego was the first one to notice. He hadn't slept properly the previous night because he was being too alert for some reason. He was driving the mail van, and threw a box at a house, landing it correctly in the mailbox. He whipped his head to the road in disbelief, looking at the house again before going back to get an envelope. He looked at the address and threw it at the window, sending it straight through the mail slot.

"Yeah!" he cheered, with a fist pump, going back down to get more envelopes, throwing them out the window to get them all into the right houses with the utmost accuracy. He was groaning in excitement, happy tears welling in his eyes at his aim being perfect.

Next was Five, who just felt very tired, and he felt like someone was somehow searing his bones. He was watching the last locations of the Thibedeaus in his office, drinking his black coffee when Derek came in, with their files filled with their histories and everything. He placed it on the table with his lips set in an angry line.

"I better not get into trouble for this, Mr. Five," he muttered.

"You won't," Five mumbled back, too swept in the pain in his body. "Don't worry."

He felt the ache in his legs intensify, so he stood up, deciding to read the files that way. As soon as he did, though, his head spun and he stumbled forward, his eyes closing for a split second as he saw a flash of purple. When he opened them, he found himself in a weird subway.

His eyes flicked around the grey walls and the ticket counter rods. "What the..." he softly let out, when he was sucked back in, seeing a flash of purple once again, and then falling back into his chair in his office with a grunt.

Derek came back in, as he groaned, his back pain heightened. "You feeling okay, Mr. Five?" he asked with concern.

'No, I don't think I am," he said weakly. "Tell the boss I'm taking a sick day."

He felt like throwing up when he took his coat and went out the door, but the brisk, cold air outside grounded him a bit.

Allison was in an audition, trying her best to play the part and ignore the mounting headache. The guys looked a bit skeptical, but she was desperate.

Please, just take me in. Even a minor role's fine.

There was a golden ring around her pupils all of a sudden and the all the men's eyes changed, turning all white before they grinned and clapped.

"That was amazing, Mrs. Chestnut! You're perfect for a role we have on the movie. It's a small one, but you'll be good for it."

Allison froze, stunned into a stupor before she excused herself and ran out the building in a frenzy.

All in all, their powers led to a problem, and the old group chat got active again. They'd made it so that they could stay in touch with each other, but that hadn't worked out. Though, at that moment, it was a godsend. They decided to meet in the Hargreeves Home For Wayward Boys, a place that they'd used to frequent if they'd needed to let some anger out.

It was probably supposed to be a condemned building, but they guessed it wasn't because finally, it belonged to the old man himself.

Diego and Lila were arguing loudly when Viktor had reached the place, which was filled with dust.

"Someone explain what the hell is going on here, quick," he demanded, silencing the couple.

"Well, Viktor, that's what we're all trying to figure out," Five said dryly.

"Luther, hey, you alright man,?" Diego asked, while Luther clutched at his gut.

"Yeah, I just... I don't know it feels like body's burning inside out," he choked out.

"Yeah, same, I feel like someone injected motor oil into my veins," Five said, as everyone except Klaus agreed.

"It's so strange. Because I, for once, feel fantastic," Klaus stated with a smile. "Sure, I woke up to see about a hundred ghosts just hanging around, but they were very nice. Went out after just a little bit of small talk."

"There are ghosts in my house?" Allison asked, lifting her head from the edge of the couch in surprise.

"Yeah, apparently there were a lot of suicides in the basement because there used to be a really, really bad ghosty living there, but I drove him out, don't worry," Klaus said, batting a hand dismissively with a reassuring smile. He had found the aggressive spirit in the bathroom and had just wiggled his fingers to get them out.

"Oh, you think you got problems?" Lila asked, a panicked edge in her voice. "Look at this,"

"Wait, no!" Diego yelled before twin green laser beams erupted out of her eyes, going through the area of the house, causing everyone to cower under their arms. The beams jaggedly cut through a few things as Lila blindly spun halfway.

When she stopped at the window, she blinked, pinching her eyes closed and then opening them again as Diego stared at her with a mixture of adoration and frustration.

"She broke our kitchen cabinet with that," he rasped.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled and when she started spinning back to her original position, the lasers started up again, and she stumbled, like the lasers were too heavy for her head.

"Turn it off!" Luther screamed.

"I don't know how!" She screamed back.

There was a small blip, and then her lasers were gone. Everyone in that room panted, their ears ringing, as Lila's eyes stung worse than the time when someone had used hot pepper sauce to defend themselves.

She sighed as her vision seemed to come back, the green flashy haze disappearing. "There," she declared, as Diego got back up and everyone got to their seats. She started to notice the damage she'd caused. "Oh, sorry about that."

"Be careful," Five told her.

"How do you do that?" Diego asked curiously.

"A gun to my head, I couldn't tell you," she replied, still trying to blink the sting away.

"Y'know, if Dad finds out about this he's gonna ask us to pay him," Luther speculated.

"I don't give a shit about Dad. I want answers now!" Viktor declared angrily, as raw, glowing, orange power thrummed around him, surrounding him in a small whirlwind.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," everyone exclaimed, holding their hands out to calm him down as Klaus instructed him to breathe.

Ben burst in, looking panicked and frenzied. He was holding his shirt from the back, and when he let it go, two tentacles fell out. Everyone stared at it as Ben looked around.

He trudged forward sadly, moving toward the couch. Allison, who was sitting there, moved out of his way as he moved the tentacles and sat down.

"What is with the tails?" Diego asked, being the first to break the stunned silence.

"I don't know, they won't go back in!" he exclaimed with irritation.

Luther meddlingly touched it with a finger, which prompted it to hit him in the face. "Oh!" he exclaimed, touching his face softly. "God. Why is it cold?"

"The real question is, why would you touch it?" Lila asked.

"No, it's, how the fuck do I have my tentacles back?" Ben said. "How are our powers back?"

"At least, Klaus isn't a human sippy cup anymore," Five stated dryly.

"Oh, wait, yeah," Allison jolted. "Klaus. Do we like, need to keep an eye on you or something?"

"Nah. I have my powers under control now," Klaus said, sitting down beside Ben.

"You sure?" Diego asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I'm not going back to that old Klaus. I like this Klaus. 'Hey, he collects coupons. He's frugal, respectable, reliable,'" he stated proudly. "And most importantly, he's a Klaus that Claire likes. And trusts. And looks up to."

Ben's stomach started rumbling, as he started to gag a bit and threw up straight on the floor. Everyone exclaimed in horror and concern as Klaus pat his back.

Suddenly Five's phone rang, and Viktor slapped his hands to his ears immediately. Upon accepting, Clementine's voice filtered through.

"Where are you?" she asked, huffing a bit, probably walking somewhere.

"Tina, I can't, right now, alright?" he said, about to cut the call.

"I went back to Gene and Jean's house!" she announced, albeit in a soft voice. "And I found something."

"Yeah, well, I took a sick day," he told her.

"Me too. Look, you need to see this, alright? Just give me your loca-"

Clementine stopped speaking and walking, staring at the guy who'd just passed her with a stupefied anger, feeling the phantom lingering of his groping hand on her behind.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he drawled with a predatory grin. "Couldn't resist that ass."

Her anger only increased. "Who the hell is that?" Five asked.

"Just hold for a second," she said plainly, as she swung her leg back and the forward, hitting the guy straight between legs. The man grunted, falling to his knees.

"Sorry, sweetheart." she said with a sweet smile. "Couldn't resist kicking those balls."

Then, she continued walking, restarting her sentence, "Yeah, so just send me your location and I'll get there."

About fifteen minutes later, she exited her car, ran to the door and knocked, waiting to be let in.

Five opened the door to see her all disheveled with a cut on her head. It was still bleeding, flowing down the side of her face and dripping onto her hoodie. His eyes softened immediately with concern.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked, pulling her inside the building by her arm.

"Huh?" she asked, before realization dawned. "Oh. That. Yeah, I got into a fight this morning. I'm fine."

She walked past him and opened her mouth to speak when she froze, seeing as there were other people there.

Five closed the door and walked to stand beside her with his hands in his pockets. "So? What'd you find?"

"Uh. There's people here," she declared, returning Lila's smile and wave.

"Just tell me," he said impatiently.

"Fine," she muttered exasperatedly. She took a jar out of one pocket, and a paper from another. The jar made his eyes widen though, as it did with the whole family.

"What the fuck?" Viktor said first.

"Guys, is it just me or are those two teeny tiny things flying around inside looking like the stuff that's not supposed to exist here?" Klaus asked, pointing a finger.

"No, but what the fuck, though?" Lila asked, mirroring Viktor.

"Where'd you get this?" Five asked, taking the jar in his hands and inspecting it.

"Gene and Jean's house," she replied. "It was there on a table. Trust me, I was just as surprised."

"What's that paper about?" he inquired.

"It has an address of this dry cleaner that's in my area. I know the guy, but he started acting weird yesterday. I think he might have gotten into the cult."

He took the paper from her hand, fingers brushing hers for a second before her eyes went black and she stumbled back a little.

"Whoa, whoa, what the hell?" Allison said just as her eyes returned to normal.

"Christ, Five. You need therapy," she said.

"Okay, what just happened?" Diego asked.

"My powers acted up," she said. "For the fifth damn time this morning."

"Whoa, wait, hold the phone for a minute here," Lila interjected. "You have powers?"

"Yeah. Look, I'll tell you more, but we need to get to the dry cleaners fast. We might get more info, plus, I really don't want that sweet guy to get caught up in all that cult business."

"I'm holding you to that. But, are you saying that the Keepers might actually have something to do with this?" Lila asked, gesturing vaguely to all of them.

"Seems like it," Five murmured. "We need to go to this dry cleaners to get more information."

"Agreed. I'll drive," Diego said, Lila behind him as he started walking. Five started going out with him, Clementine following closely. "Let's roll, mofos."

"Come on, let's get him out of here, quick," Klaus said as he helped Ben up, holding his tentacles up.

"Watch the tentacles." Ben murmured.

Allison started going too, as Luther hissed as he got into an upright position, seeing Viktor being the only one left with him.

"Hey," he said. "You okay?"

Viktor shook his head as he ran a hand down his face. "No, not really."

"I know. Come on, let's figure this out together," he said as Viktor nodded and went out with him.

Another few minutes later, they were at the dry cleaners, Clementine exiting first and running towards the shop, her wound now covered up with a pink band aid with flowers on it.

Diego and Lila were arguing again as they entered but, they soon went quiet when they saw it was empty.

"Mr. Grossman?" Clementine called out, a tinge of desperation in her voice. "Sy? You here?"

"Well. Looks like nobody's here," Allison declared.

"Or, somebody got to him," Five speculated, getting a paper of a clip, looking at it. Clementine looked at it over his shoulder with her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Look at this, New Grumpson, Maine," Five announced, showing it to Diego.

"The hell's in New Grumpson, Maine?" Diego asked.

"Maybe the Keeper's main branch or something," Lila answered.

"Or maybe that's where our dry cleaner scampered off to,' Allison contemplated.

"Or maybe this is all one big setup," Viktor declared.

"No way. This is Sy," Clementine said. "I know him. He isn't that kind of guy."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Five said decisively.

"Hell yeah," Diego said, taking out his keys. "Road trip."

"Are we really doing this?" Viktor asked wearily as they went out the shop.

"Hell yeah, we're doing this," Diego replied.

"You do realize we have three small children, yeah?" Lila asked dryly.

"Yeah, well they're going to be at your parent's house for Christmas, remember? We'll just talk to them on the phone, tell them what we're doing, and we'll be set, okay?"

"Yes," she said, before pulling him back again. "But wait, that's not the point."

"Listen, listen, listen. We spend all day, every day with our kids. I mean, even you parents tell us to go have some fun somewhere while the kids are with them. Christmas is the only break we get to have our own time, right? So, come on, we need to find out what this is. I want you to come with me, all right?" Diego finished, holding her face up tenderly at the end of his speech.

She sighed, looking at him cutely. "Well, that does sound nice."

"Right? Just you and me. Like the old days. And... we'll be able to call our kids too."

After a few more seconds of contemplating, she agreed. "Okay."

They got in the car, with Clementine on the back with Luther and Ben, as Lila, Allison and Klaus sat in the front. Five sat in the passenger seat while Diego drove.

As they got on to the driveway, their only thought was, what could go wrong?

And well, we all know, that when it came to the Hargreeves? Everything could go wrong.

Another A/N: Again, i'm glad y'all love this series haha. Also, comment if you want in on the taglist <3 Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!! Tysm for reading❤️🩷💜

[sparkles-and-trash]

🧵 health, ableism ++

Yesterday a doctor, a seasoned guy who’s worked 40+ years, told me the reason I’ve met so much resistance with the health system;

Here, the doctors see you as «a waste of reasources» after three spinal/back related related surgeries.

I was 19 when I reached their limit.

They deemed me a lost cause at 19, years old.

The reason I had those two extra surgeries after the first, big one?

The healthcare system trying to save money.

Today, everyone who gets a scoliosis surgery like mine gets titanium right away.

When I was 13, got made 7 cm taller, got two rods and 20 bolts drilled into my spine, it was just steel.

I had a violent reaction that turned to all of this getting infected and that worsened until I was 16, when they finally made the switch to titanium.

But by then it was too late, and the infection got worse as it returned, and at 19 I had to have it all removed, which is high risk and still scary.

My spine is so fragile and fucked up now.

This all turned into other issues, and since then I have been diagnosed with chronic migraines, lupus, pcos, and endometriosis.

The first one is the only one I’ve been offered any long lasting treatment for, and now it makes sense.

After a lot of fighting I am now getting surgery for my endo, but that took years of work.

And now I know why.

Lupus is a serious fucking condition.

They all are, but if one of them is gonna kill me anytime soon, chances are the lupus will do the job.

But the only treatment they’re willing to offer at this time is pain management.

Maybe, when, not if, when, I get worse they’ll try something else, but probably not.

Because I’m a lost cause, a moneypit, a person beyond the hope of rehabilitating enough to help society.

But I’m still a person.

I deserve a life, and I know I, even if a wreck, can do little things to make others happy.

Make a little bit of change.

A disabled friend once told me he’s so tired of having to be either a hero or a tragedy to able bodies people.

Because sometimes, we’re both. Or neither. And that’s okay.

We are so much more than ableism wants us to be.

I’m not even sure what I wanted to say with this, other than the fact that I know talking about these things are the only ways things change, that people open their eyes, and that we can grow together.

Thank you so, so much if you read all of this.

Thank you ♥️

[whumpshaped]

the pet name generator inspired me. here's mocha

tw implied noncon, kidnapping, hybrid whumpee, death, rude interviewer, self-harm mention (didn't go through with it, just thoughts)

"So, Mocha... As I understand you haven't talked about this before? On tape, I mean. In a setting like this."

"Never."

"Well, I'm honoured that you've chosen to accept my invitation anyway. May I ask what made you change your mind?"

The recording goes quiet. There are no sounds apart from the gentle scratches and pops, then a louder creak as one of them likely shifts in their chair.

"No."

"Okay. So we should just jump right in. Can you talk a bit about... the unique features you possess? How have they affected your life? Are you the only one of your kind that you know of?"

"I am. That's why I was so interesting to that farmer. You don't see a guy with sheep ears every day, I guess. Nor hooves. All this stuff... it fucked up my life. Ruined it."

"How so?"

Pause. There's a sharp inhale, then a slow, measured exhale.

"I was isolated. Hidden by my family. Until one day I escaped, and immediately got kidnapped. I'd say that's a pretty fucked up life."

"If we could keep the cursing to a minimum, please."

"Don't fucking tell me how to–" Mocha cuts themself off, and there's another audible sigh. "I will keep the cursing to a minimum."

"Thank you. So tell me about this farmer."

"He had a lot of livestock. He didn't treat any of those animals well. I... accidentally trespassed on his land. I didn't mean to. It was dark, I didn't see the sign, there was no fence... I heard sheep, and I wanted to meet them. Humans were always weird about the whole thing... but sheep are friendly. Too friendly. I was too friendly back then as well."

"I imagine he wasn't very happy to see a stranger on his property."

"Oh, he was." One of the chairs creaks audibly, and now it's almost certain that it's Mocha who's squirming. "He was very happy. Not at first... but then he saw how I am, and..."

"You mean your sheep characteristics."

"Yes, I mean my fucking sheep characteristics– sorry. I cursed again."

"Keep going."

"He didn't act indifferent to it, which I think is what I would've wanted. I wanted someone, anyone to just ignore them. Those stupid ears, I wanted to take a pair of scissors and cut them off–"

"Stay on topic, please."

"He was delighted. He asked where I was from, why I was out there alone at night, wandering around. I told him the truth, because sheep are friendly. Sheep are dumb."

"And he took you in."

"He did. He took me in and didn't let me go until the day he died. Thankfully that day came sooner than expected."

"How has he treated you?"

Mocha doesn't answer right away. Whether it's because they're thinking, or because it's too painful, it's difficult to tell.

"He was kind, at first. I think. It was hard to tell, as someone who has never... really experienced that. I didn't know why he was so enthusiastic about my freakish hybrid body. He made it pretty obvious soon enough, though."

"He was some sort of fetishist, correct?"

"He was a sick and twisted man who got off on violating others. I couldn't care less what you call it. He told me sheep are dumb, sheep need someone to tell them what to do, where to go, how to behave. I believed him. He had lots of sheep, and I was half a sheep, I thought he knew best. He was a fucking–"

"Language."

"But he was! He was a gross fucking man!"

"Let's move on. How did his treatment of you escalate? How quickly? How severe did it get?"

"He... I don't even know. One day it was a slap, because sheep are dumb and sheep need guidance. The other it was just... normal. And then the cane. The rod. The cattle prod. I don't know the timeline, it... it blurs together. It got very bad."

"Did you try to stop him?"

"No. Sheep are dumb. Sheep follow."

"You internalised that message very well."

"Yes. Yes, I have."

"I've heard he branded you."

"Yes. And he had one of those tags in my ear as well. Just to really drive it home that I was a dumb animal."

"And you believed it."

"I did! I did, he was convincing, I didn't– didn't know any better!" There's a pause, and Mocha takes a deep breath. "Now I know I'm smart. I know I'm capable. I'm not a sheep, not fully, and even if I was, I'd be deserving of humane treatment."

"You have a mask on today. Why is that?"

"I don't like the scars."

"It doesn't hide the burn mark on–"

"No. It doesn't. I can't really cover that."

"Okay. Let's get back to the farmer, then. You said he held you there against your will until the day he died."

"I got lucky. He had a heart attack, and all I had to do was... stand there. I watched him collapse and eventually die. I didn't know what it was back then, but now I know it was his heart."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Surreal. It was surreal. It was... it wasn't happiness, it was relief. Peace. I don't think I've felt truly happy for a long time, but I know I felt tranquil."

"And how has life been treating you since the escape?"

"Same as always, I guess. I'm still isolated. I... I don't talk to many people."

"Is that why you finally changed your mind on telling your story?"

Mocha doesn't answer for a long time. When they do, their voice sounds just a little less strained.

"I guess so. And I think... I think it was a good idea."

~

picrew

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[oneshotnewbie]

Annalise is worried. Reader wants to die.

Summary: Some say, violence is a bad thing- the physical pain. Some say, death is a bad thing- the mental pain. However, some do not realize that it is loneliness that destroys your psyche and physical health. Especially if it lasts too long.

---

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of suicide and the plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

How immensely motivated you had been as you devoured the many books and articles, in your free time, in which death was nothing but aesthetic, dignified and painless. According to them, people fall asleep within a few seconds after whispering one last word to their loved one.

How romantic.

You were practically gushing and looking back on your current life as you took a sip of your brown liquor; you were in your mid-twenties, employed in one of the most famous and successful law firms, single and also surrounded by the depression that was engulfing you.

You sat alone in the dark kitchen, downing gallons of hard liquor, surrounded by the many wreckage of your life. Nobody who was happy when you came home in the evening. No one you could talk to privately about whatever was bothering you. Nobody to share your dinner with. Nobody to love you.

But how do change this sad and broken life that seemed so hopeless? After much thought and the drunken state you were in, you made up your mind and got to change it.

You wanted to die. After that, you wouldn´t need love or anyone. Paradise awaited you, you knew it. Everything there was cheerful and bright surrounded by light and color unlike your gray and cold life.

What´s the best way to go about it? In the numerous books that dealt with it, many lay down in the bathtub and bleed to death miserably. But you didn´t want to be in pain, you wanted to spend your last few minutes in peace. Sleeping pills? No, that was a bit too easy. A shot in the head? Would cause too much mess. Hang? That sounded like a true pioneering spirit.

Hang. Like the great dictators and soldiers.

The laptop, normally used for preparing a case before you sank down into a hole, was sitting on the kitchen counter practically prompting you to look up instructions online and painstakingly attempting to tie a hangman´s knot out of a static rope you retrieved from your mountain gear that was laying in the farthest corner of your closet.

The crossbeam attached to the living room ceiling served as a support rod for the end of the cord. Now you only needed the right chair to give your life a final end. Minutes later, you were standing on one of your kitchen chairs, the strap around your neck and your eyes closed. Five, four..

Dangling your right foot off the chair, you felt a slight pull under your chin; you life slowly passing in front of your inner eye, your heart beating and pressing hard against your chest while you took a deep breath. Three, two..

"What the hell are you trying to do?!" shouted a dark and harsh voice and you opened your eyes; almost tipping over the chair under you from shock. You looked at the figure, that was standing in your door in disbelief, stepping briskly out of the shadows and quickly approaching you.

It was no other then Annalise.

"I wanted to kill myself." you brought out stone cold and regretted the decision to sell the truth as a joke that didn´t come across even half that way. "Kill yourself?" she asked horrified and kept hurrying towards you without taking off her mud covered heels or wet coat.

"Yes.." you said meekly and nothing came out of your mouth except a soft whisper. "My 20s have been the loneliest time in my life. I am surrounded by people but not connecting with anyone. Everyone loves someone but my love never seems to get through."

Your professor´s watery, troubled brown eyes pierced your sluggish eyes, that looked straight at her and a horrid sorrow welled up inside you like tormented ice water eating through your limbs on a cold and rainy day. It wrapped itself around your heart with relish and penetrated deep into it, eating it up with an infinite and unquenchable greed.

The aching ice water reached your eyes and spurted out in torrents. The sadness prevailed and the inner pain tore you apart. Your hands clawed at the rope that was still wrapped around your neck, slowly scraping through your thin skin and your foot rose from the chair; hovering in playful, circling motions above the ground, which was much too far away to touch.

"You don´t want to kill yourself, Y/n. You just want to kill something inside of you."

You sobbed and suddenly felt warm and firm hands on your waist; Annalise had managed to slip into your immediate vicinity unnoticed. You didn´t dared to look up, didn´t want to be comforted. You wanted to let the pain out, just cry and end your life. You wanted to die, wanted it to be over so you didn´t have to suffer anymore. "Throw yourself into the sea and you will see yourself fighting to survive."

A hand on your hip disengaged and slid to the orange rope at your neck, fingertips tenderly pushing through and loosening it to invite you to get your head out of the noose. Once done, the brunette hesitantly pulled you towards her before you pressed yourself again her and found yourself in a protective embrace shortly after. You leaned against her chest, needing that support before the last bit of will to live would left you and you would try to put yourself in a situation that would eventually end your life for good.

You couldn´t cope with it all and endure it, couldn´t deal with it. The emptiness and loneliness consumed you and you didn´t want words, no empty promises where Annalise would tell you everything would be fine. You didn´t think so, your life was just an empty shell.

A shell that held nothing. Your soul was broken and destroyed by loneliness.

"Y/n." Annalise only said your name, that´s all it took. Your tears dried up and stopped running freely down your cheeks. But not because the grief had passed or the alcohol had lost it´s effect, but because you were empty. Drained.

Your tears were banished, but the sobs still echoed through the empty apartment.

She seemed to seize the reason for your pain; she knew the feeling of untamed loneliness that had eaten her up and carried her in it´s power. Softly she spoke to you, no solace crossing her vocal cords trying to block out the truth.

"Y/n, there is nothing you can do about it other than hope that one day, someone will love and appreciate you for who you are. Stop destroying your soul because you will destroy yourself if you don´t stop. The loneliness won´t go away just because you want your end."

The attorney swallowed hard and for a second, realization flickered through her. Like ink, hope flooded her veins and momentarily, she thought of the moment you realized that she was the only one bracing to take away your loneliness.

The one who was brave enough to save you from the darkness.