#unfortunately they got scattered during the aftermath

[adnauseum11]

My ATV has a flat tire, which means I've got to get it off to get it fixed. It took all three of my socket sets to find the right size and then WD40 to get one of the lugs to finally break free. Now to find the best spot on the frame to jack it up and get the tire off.

It's been 0 days since I was crawling around in the dirt.

[drizzledrawings]

Do you have a full master post of like your cowgirls lore, how they met, their backgrounds and situations they got in ect. I absolutely am obsessed with them.

Why thank you so so much

I’ve talked so much about them on here, but it’s scattered, and quite a lot of it has evolved lore wise

So let’s make this that master post:

Basic lore for this universe:

Set in a non specific time of the Wild West (implied to be the tail end of the era)

But with a magical twist. The folklore of things that are not quite human living alongside humanity is real, and they are hunted for their skin. It is a known fact that shapeshifters exist, and they are illegal. Though some peoples “magic blood” don’t always show itself as Shapeshifting, it can also appear as accelerated healing or acute senses. These people are generally referred to as beasts or animals

These transformations are hard on “beasts,” they take up a lot of strength to preform them, and if you’re injured in one form, it can take time before you’re able to switch. If you’re injured enough it can be permanent.

Brunette: Flora Guerra

She was born to an Italian immigrant family with strict parents, as well as the youngest daughter to five other children. When she was 16, her parents arranged a courtship with a much older man. Flora was furious, this rage culminated in her first transformation, unfortunately this happened in front of the man as well as the rest of her family. They immediately turned their backs on her, disgusted with what she was. Terrified, she fled. She hopped on trains and resorted to petty theft to make her way west, to a land she hoped would be freer than the life she left behind!

Her first big brush with the law was when she stole her horse Bandit from a man who was treating him poorly. She fled the scene but only after shooting one officer. (Thus her first ever bounty was for murder)

Her main way of making money was seducing men and robbing them blind while they were distracted by her beauty, unfortunately she picked up the wrong trick one day, a notorious gang leader, who instead of shooting her outright, brought a then 17 year old Flora back to his gang. She became “his girl” and used her looks to help him get what he wanted.

In the gang however there was one man who was like her! He could turn into a wolf, like how she could turn into a jackalope, they formed a bond, and when the gang fell apart, he was the one to get her out safely.

Ginger: Mattie (Matilda) Hayes

Mattie is the eldest daughter of her odd family. Her father and mother immigrated from Ireland, her mother dying during childbirth of her youngest child, Ben. Because of this, Mattie became the sole caretaker of him, very much raising him herself. The entire family were beasts of some sort.

Mattie could turn into a fox from a young age, her brother as well started to transform around the same time. (Though he was a cougar)

Their father, was also odd, in more ways than just beastly. He was a sour old man with a mean streak, drink had a mighty hold on him. After an incident that broke the camels back, involving hateful words and a smashed beer bottle, Mattie had enough. In a fit of rage she set fire to her father’s barn, in the aftermath She packed her bags and set to leave. She tried to get Ben to come, but he refused and told her to never come back. So she listened.

At 18, her and her horse June travelled the desert, finding odd jobs, pulling off some robberies, and failing at pickpocketing, this left her with quite a price on her head.

After a couple years of travelling by herself, the way she preferred, she ran into Flora for the first time.

First meeting:

They met as their animals first, Mattie was trying to hunt Flora but got startled by her horns.

Later on, she was trying to rob a man on the side of the road. Only for Flora to swoop in at the last moment and get the trick instead. (By “saving” the man, but picking his wallet a moment later)

That night, Mattie was nursing her hurt ego by drinking her weight at a saloon, but alas she couldn’t even enjoy her whiskey in peace, when the woman who stole her prize sat down at the bar with her.

Pissed off Mattie tried to storm away but bumped into an angry drunk, this turned into a full on bar fight. Which Flora dragged her away from and offered to patch up her wounds

They stuck together after that. But didn’t become lovers till much later

Flora fell first, but Mattie fell harder.

JESUS this is long I’m sorry

Anyways main plot:

Word gets to Mattie that her father is dead, and her younger brother has resorted to a life crime. He is being set to hang once he’s caught. She sets out to find him.

Flora’s old gang has picked up on her location, and they are hunting her down. Scared for Mattie’s safety she works with her old friend to figure out how to keep them off their trail.

The two of them have also been found out to be beasts by the law, so on top of being wanted because of their crimes, they are also being stalked by beast hunters.

Everything seems to be going okay, Mattie finds Ben, and together her and Flora help him get away from the noose, they look after him and bring them to their camp. They thought they were evading the hunters as well as the gang.

What they didn’t know was that Ben still held a grudge for Mattie leaving. He blames her for their father’s ultimate death.

He rats them out, not only to the hunters, but to Flora’s old gang. He figured that if he gave them their location, the law would let him go. They took the bargain.

The hunters and the gang ambush them, Ben leading the way.

Flora gets injured during the fight in her human form. Ben nearly kills her.

The siblings go head to head in their beastly forms, and against all odds, the fox beats the lion, killing the last remaining member of her family.

Flora, incredibly injured, cannot transform, and for reasons unknown to Mattie, she cannot switch back.

Years pass, Flora has a limp that doesn’t go away. She is never able to be her animal again. And Mattie, well, she didn’t get too injured that day, though it seems like something broke inside because she lost her human form.

They move north together, and live a peaceful life, even though it’s not quite normal. What with Mattie being a fox and all that.

A decade or so after everything, they’ve been out of the life for a long time, is when Mattie finally finds herself again. Though she’s very different to what she used to be, her human form had changed, more fox like and more wild, though still her. She can only take that form for bits at a time, but it’s something. They’re happy

If you read all of this… damn thank you!!

[cupcakeslushie]

Okay. I've been tip-toeing around this AU for a while now, but I just got caught up, and now I think I have a (decent) grasp on what's going on. So I wanna go over everything I know so far to see if I'm right or wrong on anything. Don't know if you'd be willing to correct me or not. Either way, I hope my mistakes can help you understand what to clarify to other fans like me. But, I also have some questions. You probably won't be able to answer most of them, but it's at least worth a shot.

First, where's Venus? Like, why is she not in your comics that are (sort of) separate frome the canon now story. The ones that skip to the future way after all the turtles reunite. Did she die? Did she escape? Is it because she wasn't introduced yet when you made those comics?

Two, why do you keep on making references to the future timeline? I know you're planning on possibly making your own stuff leading up to the events of the movie. It just gives me a jumpscare when I see certain...imagery in those comics. I guess you're hinting at what your version of the future apocalypse would look like, but it just hurts to see. Specifically in the comic explaining both the events and aftermath of the movie and the bad future timeline. It's starting to really confuse my brain as to where this story is headed. What's meant to be the main focus? The Hamto's reuniting? The aftermath? Or the future?

Third, did you make all those min-comics before you started the actual AU? Or did you do them during?

Fourth, are any of those mini-comics relevant to the actual story now? Or have you changed your mind on a few things? It's just that everything is so all over the place, I don't really know whether to trust if they're accurate. I know most of them are just there for funzies, but the longer ones concern me. I guess I'm just not used to the storyteller doing sequel, start, prequel, start, sequel, prequel, prequel, sequel, and then end. Or maybe it's just me, and I'm sleep deprived.

My little observation speech is gonna take a while for me to get out in your asks because when I get theoretical, my speech gets long, and my proper English goes down the drain. So I'll be back. I appreciate your work very much. Despite the pain it causes me, it's still amazing.

I’ll try my best to clear up what confusion I can!

1. As far as Venus. The answer is kind of a mix of, I was still figuring out her design and backstory while coming out with some of those early comics, and then, once I had that down, I wanted the boys to grow strong bonds as a main cast. That’s why a lot of the side characters are only making small appearances in the Sep!AU Life stories, as those are mainly for the boys reconnecting. (Usagi shows up the most because I love him and am totally biased towards him).

This maybe hasn’t been stated outright, but I wasn’t really expecting so many ppl to like Vee as much as they do, and now im trying not to spoil too much of her story. It’ll unfortunately just take us a while to get to the meat of it. Since the boys reconnecting takes up a lot of the early s1s2 story, Im trying to follow the familiar Rise blueprint of Draxum, Shredder, Krang, and then in s3 we’ll have crazy fun new stories with the extra characters.

Ive also decided to take this little nugget from one of the Q&As, and use it for Venus instead of Jennika. It was a much needed bit of inspiration to explain why Venus sorta disappears for a while and will go through some major physical changes (not yet revealed) before the family can figure out a way to reach her.

2. I’m not sure if you mean jump scared in a bad/triggering or neutral way, but if you need me to tag anything on those posts please let me know!

The glimpses of the future timeline, are being scattered throughout wherever they parallel the present story in little ways, but that’s only for now. As we get closer to the movie plot, bigger chunks of the future will be revealed, because the future versions of the boys will have a larger role to play in the present timeline. So we will need more backstory than what the canon got. And also I just enjoy drawing my future versions so sometimes I don’t think too hard on a reason. I just like throwing them at ppl with no warning or reason.

When s2 ends, I plan on collecting all the future related stuff that’s been released, and recapping it for easier reading. Right now, it’s just little sprinkles of foreshadowing to give ppl an idea that, ‘oh crap. The doomed timeline is a bummer’. In my mind, I guess i thought it’d be kinda like a fun scavenger hunt for clues, but maybe ppl don’t like that 😅

3. All of the side-stories were written as the main comic was/is being released. A lot of them resulted from asks that just spawned the need to expand on certain ideas, or a desire to give all the turtles their time to shine.

For instance, when I was doing Donnie’s section of the main comic, it was a good few months where we hardly saw anyone but him and Venus. I wanted to just mix it up, and give Raph some love with his ‘Raph Time’ short. When Leo was front and center in the main, we hardly saw the others, so Mikey and Donnie got their little ‘Secrets’ short (and it was also I fun thank you for EW making it so far in the tmnt sep competition).

4. Anything that has been reworked/revised or just plain dropped should have an ‘Edit’ note because yes—I have gone back and changed some things, but more so from the asks i got in the early days, and some movie idea drafts.

All the short comics done in the last year, especially the ones that are listed in my pinned post, are canon and fall somewhere in the timeline. They’re like supplemental reading though—extra meat to give the world and the characters more personality. They do have particular backstory plot and important info in them, but nothing that shouldn’t eventually be re-visited/repeated in the main story.

um I hope that cleared up some things! I know it’s kind of a crazy amount of lore. I’ve tried my best to organize it in the pinned post, huge timeline, and search bar tags, but I know it’s getting harder and harder for newer ppl to jump in as it just get bigger. Thanks for reading regardless!

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

‘Potent’ Nor’easter to Bring Heavy Snow Starting Monday Night, Forecasters Say (NYT) A late-winter nor’easter is expected to bring widespread heavy, wet snow, rain and gusty winds to parts of the Northeast that had otherwise had a largely snowless season starting Monday night and lasting into Wednesday, according to the National Weather Service. Heavy snow rates and strong winds up to 50 miles per hour will likely produce dangerous to impossible travel in parts of the Northeast and will cause scattered to widespread power outages and tree damage, the Weather Prediction Center said. The storm, which forecasters described as “potent,” will strengthen on Monday over the Northeast, where the heaviest snowfall is expected across inland areas of the region, the Weather Service said. Millions of people across New England were under winter storm warnings and advisories on Monday morning.

The bank runs (Axios/NYT/news wires) On Friday, a series of unfortunate events led to the largest bank run in history. Silicon Valley Bank's customers withdrew $4.2 billion an hour, or more than $1 million per second for ten hours straight. By the weekend, the Feds had taken over the bank, and  federal regulators announced that SVB's customers would have access to all their money by Monday morning. The same is not true for other stakeholders. As Janet Yellen explained, "Let me be clear that during the financial crisis, there were investors and owners of systemic large banks that were bailed out, and the reforms that have been put in place means that we're not going to do that again." In the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis, Congress passed the Dodd-Frank Act to protect consumers and ensure that big banks could never again take down the economy and destroy millions of lives. Wall Street chief executives and their armies of lawyers and lobbyists hated this law. They spent millions trying to defeat it, and, when they lost, spent millions more trying to weaken it ... Banks like S.V.B.‌—which had become the 16th largest bank in the country before regulators shut it down on Friday‌—got relief from stringent requirements, basing their claim on the assertion that banks like them weren't actually "big" ‌and therefore didn't need strong oversight.

US turns to new ways to punish Russian oligarchs for the war (AP) The U.S. has begun an aggressive new push to inflict pain on Russia’s economy and specifically its oligarchs with the intent of thwarting the Kremlin’s invasion of Ukraine. From the Treasury Department to the Justice Department, U.S. officials will focus on efforts to legally liquidate the property of Russian oligarchs, expand financial penalties on those who facilitate the evasion of sanctions, and close loopholes in the law that allow oligarchs to use shell companies to move through the U.S. financial system. So far, more than $58 billion worth of sanctioned Russians’ assets have been blocked or frozen worldwide, according to a report last week from the Treasury Department. The U.S. has begun attempts to punish the associates and wealth managers of oligarchs. A February study led by Dartmouth University researchers showed that targeting a few key wealth managers would cause far greater damage to Russia than sanctioning oligarchs individually. Other attempts to inflict pain on the Russian economy will come from the efforts to liquidate yachts and other property owned by Russian oligarchs and the Kremlin, turning them into cash to benefit Ukraine.

Cyclone in Peru causes major flooding, at least six dead (Reuters) At least six people have died in Peru over the last few days as a powerful cyclone unleashed torrential rains, battering hundreds of homes and causing major disruptions in northern areas of the Latin American country, authorities said. The government has declared a state of emergency as it seeks to bring relief to regions of Peru hard hit by the cyclone known as Yaku, which include Lambayeque, Piura and Tumbes.

Neither protests nor garbage piles stop French pension bill (AP) An unpopular bill that would raise the retirement age in France from 62 to 64 got a push forward with the French Senate’s adoption of the measure despite labor strikes, street protests and tons of uncollected garbage piling higher by the day. French Prime Minister Elisabeth Borne tweeted late Saturday after the 195-112 vote that she looked forward to the bill’s definitive passage to “assure the future of our retirement” system. The showcase legislation of President Emmanuel Macron—which carries risks for the government—must now move through tricky political territory with multiple potential outcomes. With labor unions opposed to the bill, uncollected trash has piled up in Paris and other cities while garbage workers strike. Services in other sectors, such as energy and transportation, also have been affected.

War in Ukraine Puts Centuries of Swiss Neutrality to the Test (NYT) In Eastern Europe, Ukrainians are in the trenches. Farther west, European capitals are grappling with a new order in which war is no longer theoretical. Yet, tucked away in the heart of the continent, the Swiss are fretting over loftier ideals. In Switzerland’s capital, the debate is over the country’s legacy of neutrality—and what neutrality even means in a new era of war for Europe. Switzerland, it turns out, has an arms industry that makes badly needed ammunition for some of the weapons that Europeans have supplied to Ukraine, as well as some of the Leopard 2 main battle tanks they have promised. But it also has strict rules on where those weapons can go—namely a law, now the subject of heated debate, that bans any nation that purchases Swiss arms from sending them to the party of a conflict, like Ukraine. The war is testing Swiss tolerance for standing on the sidelines, putting the country in a bind of competing interests. European neighbors are pulling the Swiss in one direction, while a tradition of neutrality pulls in another.

Istanbul residents fear being buried alive by earthquake (BBC) Istanbul residents are reportedly increasingly fearful of a coming significant earthquake following two deadly quakes that recently hit elsewhere in the country. Experts predict that such a quake could hit the city by 2030, and the majority of buildings in Istanbul were built before 1999, when more rigorous standards went into effect, making them potentially unsafe. (Enforcement of those new standards was not always so rigorous, as the recent quakes demonstrated.) Residents of the city are now in a race against time to secure the city.

Masks stay put in Japan as 3-year request to wear them ends (AP) Japan on Monday dropped its request for people to wear masks after three years, but hardly anything changed in the country that has had an extremely high regard for their effectiveness at anti-virus protection. Most commuters exiting Tokyo’s main train station in the morning were wearing masks as they headed to work. So were people on the streets. Baseball fans who gathered outside of the Tokyo Dome hours before Monday’s games Australia-Czech Republic and China-South Korea also had on masks. Dropping the mask-wearing request is one of the last steps Japan’s government is taking in easing COVID-19 rules in public places as it tries to expand business and other activity. In a country where the pressure for conformity is extremely strong, many people were expected to keep wearing them for now. The mask request was dropped for outdoors last summer, yet many have kept wearing them.

US, South Korea hold drills as North launches missiles from sub (AP) The South Korean and U.S. militaries launched their biggest joint exercises in years Monday while North Korea said it tested submarine-fired cruise missiles in an apparent protest of the drills it views as an invasion rehearsal. North Korea’s launches Sunday signal the country likely will conduct provocative weapons testing during the U.S.-South Korean drills that are expected to run for 11 days. Last week, North Korean leader Kim Jong Un ordered his troops to be ready to repel rivals’ “frantic war preparation moves.”

Saudi-Iran Pact Could Transform the Middle East (NYT) Only five years ago, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the de facto ruler of Saudi Arabia, derided Iran’s supreme leader, saying he “makes Hitler look good.” Last week in a development that had the world doing metaphorical double takes, the Saudis not only re-established diplomatic relations with Tehran but also spoke gauzily of the countries “sharing one fate.” The diplomatic rapprochement between Saudi Arabia and Iran after years of facing off in proxy conflicts across the Middle East was a coup for China, which facilitated the agreement. And it was a relief for Iran, which is grappling with domestic unrest and an economy waylaid by harsh sanctions. But Saudi Arabia, too, has much to gain if the new cooperation truly takes root. The pact could help quiet the regional tensions that have inflamed wars, fueled media spats and sent missiles and drones flying across the Arabian Peninsula. Resolving conflicts that have drained the Saudi government’s budget, stained its reputation and deterred potential investors has become a top priority for Prince Mohammed, as he overhauls the conservative Islamic kingdom’s economy and society, hoping to make it into a global hub for business and culture. The rivalry between the two Islamic nations, separated by less than 150 miles of Persian Gulf waters, has long shaped politics and trade in the Middle East. It has played out in proxy conflicts in Yemen, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon, where Iran has supported militias that Saudi officials say have destabilized the region.

Storm Freddy triggers floods in Malawi, killing at least 11 (Reuters) At least 11 people have died and 16 are missing around Malawi's second-largest city Blantyre after tropical storm Freddy brought torrential rains that triggered floods and landslides. Freddy, one of the strongest storms ever recorded in the southern hemisphere, is believed to also be the longest-lasting tropical cyclone. It pummelled Mozambique for the second time in a month as a cyclone over the weekend before weakening as it moved inland towards Malawi. The full extent of the damage and loss of life in Mozambique is not yet clear, as the power supply and phone signals were cut off in the affected area.

Corruption Watchdog Moves to Clear South African President in Cash-in-Couch Incident (NYT) A powerful South African corruption watchdog has found that President Cyril Ramaphosa committed no wrongdoing in connection with the theft of more than half a million dollars stashed in a sofa at his game farm three years ago. The finding is a major victory for the president, who has been bedeviled for the past 10 months by accusations that he tried to cover up the theft to avoid scrutiny over having such a large sum of U.S. dollars stored at his property. Mr. Ramaphosa still faces investigations by an elite unit of the national prosecutor and by the South African Reserve Bank, which is looking into whether there are any violations related to foreign currency exchange.

Pope Francis marks 10th anniversary with Mass and podcast (Reuters) Pope Francis marks 10 years as head of the Roman Catholic Church on Monday celebrating Mass with cardinals in the chapel of the Vatican’s Santa Marta hotel where he has lived since his election. The Argentina-born Francis, 86, became the first Latin American pontiff on March 13, 2013, succeeding Benedict XVI who had become the first pope in six centuries to resign. “It seems like yesterday,” he said in a podcast by Vatican News broadcast on Monday. “Time flies. When you gather up today, it is already tomorrow.” When it was recorded at his residence on Sunday, he asked: “What’s a podcast?” according to Vatican News reporter Salvatore Cernuzio. When it was explained to him, he said “Nice. Let’s do it”. The former Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio has sought to project simplicity into the grand role and never took possession of the papal apartments in the Apostolic Palace used by his predecessors, saying he preferred to live in a community setting for his “psychological health”. A persistent knee ailment has forced Francis to alternate between a cane and a wheelchair but he appears to be in good overall health. “You don’t run the Church with a knee but with a head,” he reportedly told an aide after he began occasionally using a wheelchair in public for the first time last May.

[realcube]

how they use their quirk during sex

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request 

characters ♡ bakugo, kirishima, kaminari, dabi & tamaki

content warning ♡ slapping, electrostimulation, fire play, masturbation, mentions of voyeur, choking, oral (giving + receiving), blood kink, mention of knife play, unconventional organism eating & vagina-having reader - minors dni

katsuki bakugo 

♡ he likes to ensure that his slaps leave a mark

♡ just so everyone knows that you’re his

♡ just seeing you all marked up from his explosions and hand just gets him so hard tbh

♡ also, he loves squeezing you - it makes him feel powerful and dominant - so sometimes he just grabs a handful of your tit, squeezes it then proceeds to make you yelp by setting off a lil’ explosion in his hand 

♡ he’s no villain, but he definitely wants to hear you scream in pain or pleasure - either or both works 

♡ so whenever he is hitting it from behind and you feel a zing through your body after he spanks your thigh, mentally prepare yourself for trouble in regards to sitting down - for the next week or so 

♡ it’s a hard thing to do though because he needs to be 100% that he won’t seriously burn you or harm you, or else he literally wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror for the rest of...his life 

♡ so yeah, if he’s not completely confident in the fact he’ll be able to smack you without burning you, he just won’t do it 

♡ also, the little crackles and pops from miniature, involuntary explosions going off as he approaches his climax not only entertain you, but they also drown out his moans 

♡ not that he’s ashamed of the sounds he makes - he’s loud and proud - it’s just that the explosions help balance out the noise so it’s not just his grunts echoing throughout the room

♡  plus, they add ambience 

eijiro kirishima

♡ he hardens his back to avoid getting scratches on it lol

♡ it’s not that he doesn’t like getting marked up by you or anything, it’s just a hero instinct tbh

♡ but honestly, you like the feeling of your nails digging into his back then suddenly, the skin becomes sniffer around your fingers

♡ sometimes he accidentally employs his quirk while he is choking you because he gets so into it 

♡ or just as he is about to slap your thigh/ass

♡ he also has a bad habit of hardening when you are trying to give him hickeys

♡ so yeah, you’ll probably be left with bruises, hand prints and bite mark scattered across your inner thigh and torso after sex with kirishima and he leaves unscathed 

♡ also, idk if this is apart of his quirk but his pointy-ass teeth definitely come in handy - especially if you have a blood/biting kink

♡ kiri is willing to go full vampire for you <3

♡ also, you don’t need knives to do knife play with kiri - he is the knife (well, his teeth are) 

♡ he says sternly that he doesn’t enjoy knife/blood play but then he gets oddly aroused when drawing blood from your thigh or nibbling at your slit while he eats you out 

denki kaminari 

♡ i am so sorry but i can’t stop thinking about kami playfully zapping you during sex AAAA

♡ like if you are into electrostimulation- kaminari is basically your sex soulmate 

♡ also if you aren’t like super into electrostim but you give consent for him to lightly zap you from time to time, he will take advantage of that

♡ like just as you’re approaching your orgasm, he’ll shock you slightly so your moans are even louder and your pleasure is escalated 

♡ or sometimes during the foreplay, when he is just fondling with your breasts, he’ll give it a lil’ zap so you perk up and whine for him 

♡ he just loves seeing the way your whole body juts in reactions and how your nipples erect at the shock

♡ whenever he slaps your thigh/ass, it’ll always send somewhat of a current through your body, which arouses you even more 

♡ tickles your clit with electric sometimes just to add some flare 

♡ he might make you beg for his touch if you’re needy enough, then simply run his charged hand over your body teasingly

♡ but if you’re into full-on electrostimulation, he’s extreme picky about the times he is able to utilise his quirk bc now he’ll have to send larger currents (instead of just lil zaps which i assume are easily to control) so ofc he needs to be in the right headspace or he could potentially harm you and obviously, that’s the last him he wants to do

♡ so yeah, he probably trains his quirk extra to ensure that he can produce exactly the right amount of electricity for you

♡ omg and he is probably into mutual masturbation/voyeur !! bc you are like his goddess so ofc he gets off to seeing you touch yourself even if he isn’t the one providing the pleasure. also it really brings out his inner perv 

♡ so if you like to use toys when you masturbate, literally do not worry about any of them running out of charge/battery while you’re pleasuring yourself, kaminari has you covered bb 💅 

♡ also, outside of sex he probably playfully zaps you all the time - like if he is standing behind you, he’ll tap your shoulder followed by a little electric shock. which makes you jump and turn around to see him standing, whistling and averting his gaze unsuspectingly

♡ ‘what, kami? and ouch.’

♡ his eyes widened as he inhaled sharply with an offended look on his face, ‘eh, what?! i didn’t do anything!’

♡ you blinked rapidly, ‘who else has an electricity quirk nearby?’

dabi

♡ he mostly uses his quirk during the actual act of peneration

♡ he rarely uses it during foreplay 

♡ maybe just to set the mood by using his finger to light the candles on his bedside table or sumn 

♡ or, if you’re into fire play, he’ll drag his glowing finger across your chest to trace your curves while leaving a pale marks behind, shooting an erotic burning sensation through your body 

♡ or LORD he (lightly) burns his name into your skin !! so everyone knows you are his >:)

♡ i believe that - unlike the other boys - dabi is able to control his quirk pretty well all throughout sex, no matter what mood he is in

♡ so angry make-up sex with added fireplay isn’t completely out of the question

♡ though, he is a bit cruel so if he’s got your ass in his hands while he’s approaching his orgasm, he will purposefully burn marks into your skin

♡ however, everything comes with a price

♡ so although he can control his quirk at almost all times, he does not know how to deal with the aftermath pffft

♡ he’ll look at your bright red ass and how you are struggling to sit down and be like ‘put some aloe vera on it idfk 🤷‍♂️’ 

♡ anyway, just expect there to be burn marks on every part of your body that dabi touched

♡ the most painful ones are probably the ones he leave on your hips, while he holds your pretty figure in place and drills into you from behind

♡ or perhaps the ones he makes on the back of your head as he forces you take more of his cock into your mouth 

♡ then again, the burns on your neck once he has finished roughly choking you like a slut while pounding into your cunt, were also problematic  

♡ but the handprints he leaves on your torso as he feels around the bulge his massive cock makes in your stomach also hurt quite bad 

♡ god knows, but you’re just generally in pain after sex with dabi tbh

tamaki amajiki

♡ suneater more like pussyeater amarite

♡ this might be a lil bestiality-esque bc he is like a human who develops features of an animal but like..he is still a human, after all, so he can consent 

♡ but anyway, tw for anyone who doesn’t want to read anything of the sort !!

♡ ok, so, let’s get this out of the way first - tentacles 😍 KJVDKFVZDI

♡ he uses them exactly how you imagine he would; he simultaneous holds you down, massages your breast, covers your mouth, chokes you, slithers one up your cunt and one up your ass - just..everything...

♡ like if the tentacles are out, you know you are getting overstimulated that night

♡ also sometimes - if he’s feeling especially bold - he’ll slip one of his tentacles under your skirt while in public then just watch as you desperately try to stifle moans from how good he feels squirming inside you  

♡ you both like it a little more than you’d like to admit tbh

♡ also, one time he ate goose just so he could manifest wings and try fuck you mid-air lmao 

♡ that would’ve brought a whole new meaning to ‘flying fuck’

♡ unfortunately, it didn’t work as well as he had hoped as his wings couldn’t support both of your weight so it was more like him hovering over the bed while drilling into you from above 

♡ it was definitely a new angle though, so you couldn’t complain

♡ he’ll pinch your clit and squeeze your tits with his lobster claws but that’s about it - he generally doesn’t tend to manifest those during sex

♡ one of his dirtiest secrets is that one time, he paid crazy money for a dish with elephant meat in it, in hopes that he’d get a monster cock

♡ (no, the thought never occurred to him that perhaps horse would be a better, cheaper alternative)

♡ bc he highkey has a size kink but you’ve already kinda gotten use to his size so he needed to amp it up...

♡ but no- all he got was a trunk 😭

♡ however, it wasn’t all bad bc at least he made good use of that trunk- 

♡ (he shoved it so far up you, he hoped to see it come out your mouth 🥰)

♡ anyway, rapid-fire round:

♡ he once ate rabbit so he could develop bunny ears and a tail so he could be your cute lil’ bunny boy 🥺 while you peg him 

♡ buffalo wings get him riled up tbh - only top energy after he has buffalo wings 

♡ honestly, the beak he manifests after eating chicken lowkey destroys your cunt- 

♡ the leathery skin he gets after eating crocodile makes him feel badass

♡ oh! and the sharp teeth too- like kirishima, he will go full-vampire if you want him too

♡ his quirk is so versatile, just let your imagination run wild lmao ✨  

♡ plus, he is pretty whipped for you so he's basically down to try anything

[tauforged]

brooo do you have a laz lore master post i wanna see more about this guy . blorbo from my person i follow on tumblr

waaa im so glad u like him!!!!!! his lore is kinda.....scattered all over unfortunately hdsjnkfdjkfn im very unorganized. the main big posts that ive made about him in recent memory that i havent accidentally retconned are here (eternalism bullshit and how the his drifter and operator selves tie into the version we know and love) here (answering a bunch of questions about him) aaaaaaaaaand here (explaining a little bit about how his oculus and void echolocation works)

his tag is kinda sparsely populated cuz a lot of his character building has been happening behind the scenes and i havent shared much due to being forgetful as hell and for the longest time sorta just assuming nobody cared about him but me lmao BUT i can give you a rundown of everything ive got so far: (it's gonna be long, sorry in advance)

on the zariman, he was separated from the other kids and ended up hiding in a ventilation shaft to avoid the adults. he hid so well, in fact, that the orokin actually almost missed him entirely and nearly left him there when they were collecting the tenno after the void jump. he was so paralyzed by fear and pain that at first, they had assumed he was a corpse, and only realized otherwise when he freaked the hell out and blew a massive hole through the poor bastard they sent to go drag him out of the vents.

in the aftermath of the zariman and for most of the old war, he was sort of just... squirreled away and treated more like a feral animal than a kid. he was jumpy and uncooperative, his connection to the void was strong enough that he could do some serious damage when startled, and he didn't remember most of his life before the zariman incident at all, so he was difficult to reason with and in their eyes a waste of time. he didn't even remember his own name, so they called him 'Lazarus' as a reference to the fact that he was assumed to be dead when first recovered, and seemed to be pretty good at surviving against the odds. eventually he just accepted this as his name.

im not entirely sure if margulis knew about him or not... i feel as though she would want to help him, but he probably wouldn't trust her one bit. ive been tempted to go all in and say he couldve been the tenno who accidentally blinded her, which would lend credence to why the orokin felt the need to isolate him so thoroughly from everyone else, but i dont know if im gonna commit to that. as far as being a 'weaponized' tenno, he was treated as sort of a last resort.

he only had the one frame during the old war - he was paired off with a particularly uncooperative umbral ash that they weren't sure would even be able to be 'controlled', but despite most of the handlers assuming theyd tear eachother to shreds, they ended up sharing a really close bond. This ash is his primary frame, Styx! styx is like a father to him, really. they only ever had eachother for a very very long time.

he only ever saw combat once before the war ended. the orokin were getting desperate, and threw pretty much everyone they had at a particular area-- including laz. he had no idea what to do with himself, but he was suddenly outside of his 'room' (more of a holding cell, to be frank) for the first time in years, so he did what any sensible scared kid would do-- he ran for his fucking life. before his handlers realized where he'd gone and tried to interrupt his transference to his frame, he transferred out of his chair completely and essentially escaped for good. they assumed he wouldnt survive on his own and marked it down as a loss, but he was ultimately forgotten. one less little void demon to deal with, really.

he ran for a long time, just sorta trying to get as far away from anything and everything orokin as he possibly could, but too afraid of being recaptured to dare trust anyone he met along the way. at some point before the end of the war, he had a run-in with a lone sentient that cornered him, and he had no choice but to try and defend himself.

he lost this fight. the sentient very much killed him, but in his final moments, all of the void energy trapped inside his body was released like a bomb going off, which killed the sentient pretty much instantly. the implosion also created a weird little pocket void of sorts that pulled in his body and the bits and pieces of the sentient that were left behind. slowly, over the years, the void pieced him back together, replacing whatever was destroyed with pieces of sentient technology, essentially creating the first amalgam.

the entire time laz was in his void coma, styx was helpless to retrieve him. he knew he wasn't gone - he could still feel his presence - but he couldn't get through to him.... so he waited. and waited. and waited some more. eventually, the ruined old building they'd been in all but collapsed, plants began to grow through the foundation, his joints began to rust and his blades tarnished. grineer and corpus and infested alike discovered the place over the years and all were promptly slaughtered in fits of protective rage. by the time another tenno stumbled across his resting place, the old war was ancient history, and the lotus had already located and awakened most of her children-- but laz had never had a chance to form that connection with her. he barely knew margulis, let alone natah.

the tenno who eventually found him and woke him up was none other than @helmofhades' specialest boy Rigel! they have a very special relationship. i love them both deeply. by the time rigel had found him, he'd been mostly put back together-- but the somatic scars on his face had progressed to the point where his eyes were damaged beyond repair. rigel and the other tenno who eventually made up their little clan helped him get back on his feet and adjust to this strange new world he found himself in.

laz and rigel are basically married if it wasnt obvious already. they are boy best friends <3

he went through the main story quest more or less the same as happens in the game, although he never really had a very close connection with the lotus and was more wary of her and confused by her for than anything for a very long time-- at least until the new war, anyway

the drifter and the operator are two separate entities - but there's also a third, completely separate laz who is basically a conglomerate of all of his alternate selves. i call this special third guy 'laz prime' to make life easier for myself, but neither of them are any more 'real' than the others.

operator laz is him but in babymode. nothing much else to that. hes just a little guy, and its his birthday, hes a little birthday boy!!!

drifter laz i uh... kinda havent touched on much. im waiting for duviri to drop so i can really get into the nitty gritty of all the time loop bullshit. hes kinda a bitter asshole though. not that i blame him.

laz prime is the funny guy i post about so much!!!! after the cutscene in the new war where the drifter and operator meet, neither of those two actually LEAVE that dormizone, at least not in the version of reality we see-- their meeting causes laz prime to just sorta... start existing! he remembers being both of them, although only vaguely. it's him who finishes the quest, and it's him who eventually returns to the zariman for the angels update and all that fun stuff. im sure driftlaz and oplaz are still out there, doing their own thing, but i havent the slightest clue what that may be.

laz prime is more severely amalgamated than either of his counterparts-- while theyve got the horns, hooves, and claws, laz prime takes it up a notch with an extra set of arms and a tail! he's also absurdly huge.

he has a cane to help with the mobility issues caused by having to balance on those teeny tiny itty bitty stick legs-- it's actually a little sentient! he calls it a mobilyst. it's his little buddy. i really like it

laz prime can't really use amps in the traditional way, considering his sentient parts react very poorly to large concentrations of void energy. he pieces together makeshift weapons with cores and fragments he scavenges from other sentients or amalgams that he kills to make up for it. he can also breathe void-fire, but he doesn't do that very often because it singes his scruffy little beard :( love loses

his lack of ability to effectively channel amps makes him VERRRY very interested in traditional weaponry. he's especially fond of incarnons-- JUST because theyre cool weapons. no other reason. none at all. unrelated, but do you think cavalero likes men? asking for a friend.

[astaroth1357]

Congratulations!! So happy for you!! Do you mind writing a HC for the Tiny!MC, where the brothers see Tiny!MC in trouble with some lesser demons? Like, the lesser demon is bullying them or about to hurt them, how would the brothers react? You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to tho. Again Congratulations!!!

Demon Brothers React to Tiny!MC Being Threatened by Lesser Demons

You know, my first thought was "Which one of you fuckers lost tiny!MC in the first place?? Bad demons! Worse than usual! Keep better track of your itty-bitty human!"

Pretty much uses the same continuity to the rest of my Tiny!Series, I put this somewhere during the “Lucifer, I Shrunk Myself...” portion.

Warnings: Violence, Overly Protective Behavior

Intro:

Five minutes. Their demonic guardian said they were only going to put them down for Five. Minutes. It shouldn't have been that dangerous, or even risky, because everyone should have known that tiny!MC was under their protection. Sure, an itsy-bitsy human would make a perfect snack... but who would want to provoke the wrath of the student council for no reason??… Okay so, lesser demons aren’t exactly known for their intelligence but still...

This is not going to end well...

Lucifer

Doesn’t that lowlife know who he's messing with? Lucifer almost pities him for being so stupid, really…

He brought tiny!MC out to the gardens at their request because they were getting restless being stuck in his room. It wasn't supposed to be a dangerous area so he felt fine leaving them briefly to answer a call from Diavolo. When he came back he found a lesser demon standing over them... drooling...

What came out was a rather chilling side of Lucifer normally only seen by Mammon. One where he can walk up to a person, demon form out in full, then drag them away by the collar with an eerily calm smile on his face.

Tiny!MC didn't see what Lucifer did to the demon… but they did hear Cerberus get summoned before the firstborn returned to them. Their imagination worked to fill in the blanks…

Lucifer apologized to them rather kindly (a real rarity for him) but they noticed he cut their visit short and took them back to the House quickly. They got the sense he'd rather they be safe but bored in his room than entertained but vulnerable to such a dangerous world…

Mammon

Pfffffft, Mammon is protective of MC even when they’re normal-sized. Them being tiny doesn’t change much.

He had brought them along with him for one of his gambling nights. Unfortunately, he got too absorbed in the game to notice a group of lesser demons getting closer to tiny!MC than they really should have… At least until they shouted for his help.

It's rare to see Mammon mad. It really is. But there was nothing but pure rage in his eyes when he grabbed one of the demons by the throat and sent him crashing through the roulette tables. His speed made it pretty easy for him to round up all the others that tried to scatter and he gave them a similar treatment.

After everyone was thoroughly on the ground, bleeding, he asked the MC if they were hurt. If they were, then that'd just earn the downed demons another round of his fury. No one hurts his human like that! Big or small.

He'll apologize a whole bunch for letting his guard down… but also complain a little on the way back to the House because his luck was just starting to turn around too! 😖😞

Leviathan

Direct confrontation isn’t something Levi finds himself in often… but there can be exceptions.

He and tiny!MC were in one of the few stores in town that sold otaku goods and he had set them down to do some browsing in that hyper, distracted fanboy way he gets.

A couple of lesser demons were just some other patrons who happened by them, but who could pass up such a convenient snack?

Well, tiny!MC was convenient until the guys heard what was probably the world's most unholy hissing sound coming from the other side of the room…

Levi has never claimed to be at the peak of demonic prowess or anything, but just this once he was at their defense at a speed he’s never pulled off before. In practically a blink of an eye, he has one asshole lifted by the collar and the other getting crushed by his tail. It wasn't a pretty sight...

After the threat was dealt with, he snapped right back into the same ol'Levi like nothing ever happened, though. Blubbering apologies and frantically checking to be sure they were unharmed... What a somewhat terrifying sweetheart. 🤭

He pretty much refused to take them anywhere again until they were back to normal. Who needs the real world anyway?? His room is the only place they ever need to be!

Satan

You know this is exactly why he kept them so close in the first place...

Satan had to retrieve a book from the highest shelf in the RAD library so he set tiny!MC down in order to climb the ladder. A small gang of lesser demons decided to strike while he was up there browsing...

When he slid back down and turned to see the demons had surrounded the table that he left tiny!MC at, his shout alone was powerful enough to rattle the shelves behind him...

Needless to say, the Avatar of Wrath made very short work of the threat. And a library ladder can make a surprisingly versatile weapon if you put it in the hands of someone pissed enough to use it... and strong enough to rip it off its sliding track… What was it? Metal? Steel? Eh, not strong enough to stop an angry Satan anyway.

After the dust settled, he double-checked to be sure the MC was okay and apologized for being so careless... But they could tell he was still trying his best to regain his composure post berserker freakout. Someone's going to have to nurse those bloody knuckles for him later...

His overprotective instincts tripled afterward. If you think that Satan was ever going to put them down again then that’s a fantasy. Between the lesser demons and that sly bastard Solomon, tiny!MC was never leaving his hand at RAD again. Period.

Asmodeus

Excuse me?? Some lesser demon was doing what now?! Oh HELL no!! Not to his adorable tiny!MC!!

Asmo was shopping with tiny!MC and set them down outside a dressing room while he tried on a cute outfit. Apparently, a lesser demon was doing the same in the stall next to him and came out to find a little human waiting patiently outside… powerless… vulnerable… and tasty!

Asmo opened the door right as the demon picked tiny!MC up to have a bite. The fifthborn's scream shattered all the mirrors in the store like he was some kind of infuriated opera singer then he ripped the demon a very verbal (and physical) new one...

Once the attacker was pretty much decimated, Asmo tended to the MC like they'd just gotten dragged through an active war zone. He asked them, "Are you okay?!" so many times that the words "I’m fine" pretty much lost all meaning...

The sheer carnage left the store employees too damn petrified to ask him to leave so he bought the (now ruined) outfit he had on and took them right home. His sweet tiny!MC was definitely getting a spa treatment that night as an apology… Poor thing...

Beelzebub

Apparently, some people just want to go bear poking for fun...

He and tiny!MC were outside a food stall and he had set them down to go wait in line. In hindsight, he probably should have known the meals would attract other hungry demons… ones that wouldn't mind a free snack… And tiny!MC got cornered pretty quickly while his back was turned.

Those demons might have thought twice about their plan, though, if they had known Beel would attack them with the entire stall itself. 😰

Poor tiny!MC, by some miracle, barely got out of the way of the wooden structure crashing down on top of their attackers as if dropped by the heavens in a fit of rage... Those not crushed under the wreckage got squashed under Beel's fists...

In the aftermath, Beel was barely recognizable when he picked them back up, holding his bitty human so close that they might have suffocated against his chest. Even the stall's very upset owner just backed away from him after getting a ferocious snarl…

It took him a couple hours to calm back down… Then a couple hundred apologies to Lucifer who has to foot the bill for that guy's ruined livelihood… But hey, no one would ever be dumb enough to touch his tiny!MC again. 

Belphegor

Heeeey! Picking on tiny!MC is his thing! Like he’s going to let anyone else give them any grief…

Belphie likes to hide on the roof of RAD sometimes to take a midday nap so he thought it would be funny to hide tiny!MC from the others by taking them with him one afternoon. Both were peacefully napping when a lesser demon apparently had the same idea and found them.

Belphie woke up when he heard their distressed cries and saw the demon trying to carry tiny!MC away... Oh, he wasn't having that.

Belphie shot up and snapped the scumbag's wrist to get tiny!MC free before he effortlessly sent him flying over the edge in one fell swoop. Give this to the Avatar of Sloth, when he does get moving he’s pretty efficient.

The demon's fall got cushioned by a grove of trees below, which earned Belphie a slightly less severe lecture from Lucifer. He did, however, get a pretty rough one from Satan anyway because he took the MC like that in the first place…

Beel took custody of tiny!MC yet again but even he was grateful to his twin for protecting their little human. Tiny!MC noticed Belphie started sleeping a little lighter when he knew they were around, but he'd deny that any supposed “guilt” had anything to do with it… Whatever he says, I guess. 🙄

[raendown]

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2070 Rated: T+ Summary: Steve had only just been thinking about how much he missed his best friend when his phone started ringing. Great minds think alike! Except apparently Bucky had meant to call someone else entirely and Steve was not at all prepared for the discovery of this baffling - but adorable - secret.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

From Where You Are

He may have staunchly denied it every time Tony or Natasha or anyone else teased him for it but Steve knew damn well that he had a - very slight! - penchant for dramatics. Dramatics like slamming an entire plane down in to the icy ocean rather than just turning the damn thing around and flying in circles until Peggy or Howard came up with the latest madcap rescue plan. Yeah. He was a self aware guy. Which meant he knew exactly how much teasing he would get if he so much as dared to open his mouth and complain about life on the run. 

Because as well as Steve knew himself, his friends knew him better. He might be lucky to get a whole three words in to his sentence before any of the people he currently had available to listen would guess exactly what he was really complaining about. He missed Bucky. So sue him! He’d already spent seventy years thinking his best friend was dead and then another two knowing he was out there but not exactly all there. Now finally he knew exactly where Bucky was. He knew that Bucky knew exactly who he was. They could be best friends again. 

Through video calls only. 

Steve clenched his jaw against the urge to close both eyes and whine at the unfairness of it all. Leaving Bucky in Wakanda had been the right choice for everyone but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Could the world maybe stop being so unfair for just five damn minutes? Give a guy a chance to reunite properly with the one thing that had centered the first couple decades of his life? Maybe get a hug or two in while Bucky was only one-armed and half defenseless against a few rounds of proper manly affection? It didn’t sound like too much to ask. Yet here he was sitting up just past midnight trying to calculate time zones to figure out if maybe he could get a quick call in now that Sam and Natasha were falling asleep. If he snuck out on to the balcony he might be able to avoid waking them and therefore avoid the inevitable teasing over his ‘very obvious pining’.

So lost in his own head was he that Steve nearly threw his phone against the wall when it began signing in his hand. It took a slow blink or two for his thoughts to clear enough that he understood no, he had not called Bucky out of rote habit, Bucky was calling him. Score one for that mental best friend bond he’d heard the other two joking about the other day. Steve was smiling as he accepted the call and held it up at an angle he hoped would get his face properly. 

“Hey, Buc- oh my god, are you okay?” 

Small on the screen and folding in to himself like he was trying to be just as small in person, Bucky’s eyes were wild where they stared somewhat just over top of whatever device he’d used to call from. He took several ragged breaths in and let them all out a little too heavily before he could speak. 

“No.”

“I’m here, pal, what’s up?”

“Can you- where’s Sam?”

Steve felt his eyebrows lift up together. “Uh, Sam? Is in the next room. Why?”

A good question, he felt, since in the eight or so months since they had all last been together in Wakanda, Bucky had never once so much as breathed Sam’s name during these scattered video calls. Steve had seen them have maybe two conversations in the palace and both of those had been stilted as hell. Two men dancing around the fact that they’d both tried to kill each other on several occasions. Now here was Bucky jerking his eyes over to look directly at the camera and Steve had never seen him look so haunted before. Which, really, was saying something.

“I want to talk to Sam,” he said, voice quiet, aching with something Steve hadn’t heard before. They had talked about Bucky having nightmares. He’d just never seen one, not even the aftermath. Bucky had been a keep-it-close-to-the-chest guy long before what happened with HYDRA.

“Uh, okay. Sure. He might be asleep but I’ll just- yeah.”

Feeling more than a little confused, he did just that. Stood and marched to the door with a single minded purpose that could only come with being given a mission. Bucky wanted to talk to Sam and he might not understand why but he was going to make that happen even if he had to wake the man up. 

Thankfully, he did not have to wake the man up, although if he’d waited even a single full minute longer that might have been the case. Sam hadn’t even taken the time to undress or properly get in to what passed as his bed for tonight. He was still sitting half slumped against the wall on a little nest of blankets, carefully positioned in exactly the opposite corner from Natasha because one simply did not sleep next to a Russian super spy knowing that the slightest disturbance would send her in to full mission mode in less than five seconds. Besides, Sam had laughed when he pointed that out, I’m a serial sleep cuddler and I don’t think that’s a great idea here. Who knows how many knives she’s got under her pillow? 

“Sam?” Fond amusement rippled through the layers of worry as Steve watched his friend’s head loll towards him, indolent and exhausted. “Hey, uh, Bucky’s on a call. He wants...to talk to you?” That got a reaction. His eyes cracked open to take in the phone Steve was holding out and his chin lifted faintly in greeting.

“Hey man,” he ground out, voice coarse with near-sleep. “‘Nother nightmare?”

“Can you tell me a story?” Bucky asked. 

Steve very nearly dropped the phone. He almost dropped it again when Sam, without any external reaction whatsoever, immediately launched in with, “So you know that guy Dwayne I was telling you about? From homeroom? God, lemme tell you about how stupid this guy is. We’re at prom, right? And there’s this honey he’s had his eyes on for like three months only she went to prom with Harry Murdock- yeah, you know, the quarterback. Fuckin’ quarterbacks, man.”

It was kind of like watching something his own weird dreams might come up with. A sequence of events that made very little sense once you’d woken up and tried to piece it all back together. Sam’s eyes gradually slid closed again but his mouth just kept going like this was all totally normal, like he often spent his nights sitting up and telling Bucky random stories about the other kids he’d gone to highschool with. And on the opposite end of the call Bucky’s face grew less haunted with every word until the panic had drained out of him entirely and his own eyes were sliding down. He must have been using a tablet or laptop because the camera stayed perfectly centered on him even when his head at last fell gently down against his chest. 

“-and I mean, yeah, I get what he was going for with the ribbons but fuck, it really just made the whole thing worse. Best night of my entire highschool career gone right down the drain because Harry Murdock was too ashamed to tell his parents he wanted to take me to prom and Lisa Furlow was too good of a friend to tell anyone she was just a beard. Obviously the teachers were mad about the horse being there but- ah. He fall asleep?” It took a second for Steve to realize his friend was asking him a question. 

“Yeah. He did.”

“S’good. Good. ‘M gonna too. Night, Steve.” And then he was out too. Sam’s head lolled again, face going slack, and Steve was left standing there with a phone in his hand and several new knots in his chest, all of them shaped like confusion. 

Well. That. Had happened. Lifting his hand, Steve watched the live image of his best friend sleeping peacefully, a direct contrast to the shaken man who had reached out for help. Reached out to someone who wasn’t Steve. He’d be lying if he tried to say some part of that didn’t sting but he was a big enough person to recognize that helping Bucky was so much more important than stroking his own ego even if he did still feel like the ground was shaky between them after everything that had happened. Watching the man now, he certainly couldn’t deny that whatever the hell just happened seemed to have helped. Bucky hadn’t looked so at peace since he���d volunteered to go back in to cryo while the Wakandans figured out a way to help him. 

Movement from the opposite corner of the room drew Steve’s eye and when he glanced over he found Natasha sitting primly with both eyebrows raised in question. Not having much of an explanation, he could only give her a helpless one-shoulder shrug. They held each others’ gazes in matching confusion for several beats until Steve turned to look back at where Sam lay, asleep and content, slumped against the wall. He was definitely going to wake up to an aching back. 

And a whole lot of questions. 

Unfortunately for Steve’s overwhelming curiosity, he was still self-aware enough to know he didn’t have the heart to wake Sam, not knowing that it was ultimately his own fault the other man was so tired. If he hadn’t shown up on Sam’s doorstep that day they wouldn’t both be here, on the run from their own country, unable to call home to the people they cared about, worn to the bone from running and fighting and hiding themselves away in whatever dingy hole they found to crash in for a night or two. No, Steve would not be the one to disturb any rest his friend managed to find. 

“You gonna hang up some time this century?” Natasha’s voice murmured through the shadows. 

“Oh, yeah, I probably should.”

She watched him do so with what was probably an all too obvious reluctance. Then she grinned. “We’re giving him the third degree tomorrow, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So many questions. I need to know absolutely everything that led to Sam Wilson telling the Winter Soldier bedtime stories. Everything.”

“That was weird, right?” Steve ran a hand through his hair, absently noting a tremble in the fingers. “We should probably get some sleep too. I mean, you try. Don’t think I’ll be able to get any.”

Natasha unfolded herself from the floor with the corners of her mouth curling up in a little smirk he couldn’t bring himself to look away from. “No, I think I’ll be fine. Let’s go get some coffee. We’ll coordinate our plan of attack for when this guy gets back to the land of the living.” She jerked one thumb at Sam’s form and Steve finally had to peel his eyes away just to hold in the laughter that wanted to spill out. 

“Alright. Yeah. Coffee. And a plan of attack. Sounds good to me.” 

“What was it they called you? The star spangled man with a plan?”

Steve groaned and covered his eyes with the hand not still holding his phone. “Please tell me there’s no surviving footage of me prancing around on stage in tights.”

“Why would I need footage when I get front row seats every time you suit up?” Natasha sauntered away from him, probably - definitely - aware exactly what shade of red she’d just left on his face. Front row seats indeed. He certainly didn’t mind his own front row seat whenever he had the chance and the times Natasha had to join them out here on the run from their own government gave him plenty of chances. 

One last look at his phone made him smile before Steve slipped it in to his pocket and gently clapped both hands together, rubbing his palms back and forth. Coffee did sound good. Coffee with Natasha while they figured out exactly how much hell to give Sam over how he was apparently reading bedtime stories for a man he hadn’t said two words about in all the time since they’d left Wakanda. This was going to be fun. 

[soukokuwu]

↳ genre: angst

↳ characters: dad!chuuya, wife!reader, you guys have a child

↳ synopsis: a small look at how he handles himself in the aftermath of the catastrophe.

↳ warnings: implied death

↳ word count: 1,689

↳ requested by anonymous || Do whatever you want have s/o killed by one of Chuuya's enemies or die in childbirth idc which one you choose or how you do it JuSt maKe iT hURt

Chuuya sits in the living room, in the dim opalescence of the moon, picture perfect memories scattered on the coffee table before him. He takes a sip of shiraz as he carefully appraises the photo in his hand, thumb delicately grazing over the smile set on your face.

You were so beautiful.

No, not like those typically featured starving adolescents on countless magazines, covered in so many products they barely appear human. Not in that way. You were much more.

Your kind of beautiful was a smile so freely given, a sign of how tender your soul was. It was that spark in your eye — the one that showed him you were always up for an adventure. They held such an intelligence and serenity that he couldn’t help but be prisoner to them. Your kind of beautiful was a mind singularly practical and sagacious.

Your kind of beautiful... was who you were.

And the most precious beauty you graced him with in this life, he thinks, would be the faint memory of your voice muttering out an “I love you”, a phrase that rolled off your tongue so smoothly like birdsong, forever echoing in his heart.

He spends every night like this, as he has for the past twelve years. A nightly routine, brought about by a nameless sadness which is always born of moonlight. And each time, the colours of the day will fade into the black, and it gets dark with unutterable sorrows.

Your death haunts the recesses of his memory. What was supposed to be the happiest day of your lives turned into his worst nightmare. Chuuya can’t remember how many times the scene plays back in his head; the doctor apologising and the sounds all turning into muffled feedback right after, the blood staining your hospital gown, the sounds of his screams muffled by the blanket covering your hollow shell and the gentle touch of Kouyou trying to pry him away from you. It didn’t matter how much he held on to you anyway, Chuuya had already lost you to death’s grip.

The incomparable happiness he felt just a few hours before had given way to immeasurable grief. And he was conflicted, so conflicted, because in another room, she was crying too. So he did what a father was supposed to do — he straightened up, cradled his little baby in his arms and hushed, telling her everything was going to be alright.

One of the first few sentences he had ever said to his newborn baby, and it had to be a lie. Because how was he supposed to know if everything was really going to be okay? For the first time since he’s met you, Chuuya had felt utterly lost, despondent. Every day since that moment, he has felt his mind being beaten into the ground because of the catastrophe.

Not to say there aren’t happy moments — how could there not be? He lost you, but he also gained an amazing daughter who, he realised after some time, was quite like you.

The first few years had been extremely hard on him. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know if he was doing it correctly, he didn’t know what else he should do. He had thought the two of you would figure it out together, learn how to be parents together. Turned out to be just another unattainable dream. But Chuuya considers himself lucky. Even until now, the mafia takes care of her as they do him, because she is, by extension, a part of him. She keeps him sane, grounded, particularly during her waking hours. She is not only his miracle but also someone who never fails to distract and beguile his soul. When he spends time with her he can’t help but be completely absorbed in it, in her.

There’s so much that reminds him of you. Why wouldn’t there be? She is your daughter too. Although, she has his eyes (he silently wishes she got yours, so that maybe, somehow, he might see a glimpse of you from time to time). But there are other, more significant, things that reminds him of you. Her smile; the way it slowly and sometimes unwillingly (when she’s feigning being mad at him) shapes into a grin, before the silence gives way to a laugh of jovial significance. It’s not just in its melody — it’s in the way her face changes into a vision of unrestrained mirth. Just like you. Even her, as a person, reminds him of you; the way she manages to touch someone’s life just with mere words (he’s very surprised at this, considering how she’s still just a kid), and the way she protects those she loves with utmost enthusiasm. Even the way she manages to make Chuuya, the hot-headed brute with short temperament, have a patience worthy of admiration, is remarkable in itself.

It’s only in the night that he allows himself to feel about you; to let it out. It’s only when his daughter is asleep that he allows himself to crumble under the pressure of trying to hold it together for them both. Never once does he allow himself to falter in the face of his daughter. Chuuya feels the undeniable need to be her pillar of support, an iron wall that would never break. He can’t let her see him like this, ever, lest she worries. And she would, because she is exactly like you. If he can’t protect you, the least he can do is to safeguard what you left behind — the family.

“I miss you,” he utters into the night, well aware that no one is there to hear him, to respond to him. His eyes are glued to your face.

“I miss you so much.”

But someone does hear it. She has heard it ever since that night two years ago when she woke up due to a little nightmare about fictional monsters. But she met an even greater one that night. The one that haunts her father until the dawn breaks each day. She hears him sobbing every night through the little crack in her door, the door that faces the living room, allowing her a small peek at her father’s shoulders trembling, his crimson locks — now mixed in with several white hairs — a disheveled mess against his body. She knows he goes through this every night — mind in a daze and wandering in a mist of memories.

It’s when she realises that her father is just like her — not a villain, not a hero, just human.

Have you ever felt responsible for something that wasn’t your fault? For something that you had absolutely no control over?

Because that’s how she feels. She feels responsible for her mother’s death. She feels that it’s her fault her father is miserable. She feels if she wasn’t born that none of this would have happened. And she only blames herself… because she knows it’s true. Without pregnancy, you wouldn’t have died. Without a baby, you’d still be here.

And every moment there’s a chorus of conflicting thoughts playing in her mind: “I’m the reason mommy’s gone”, “I wish I could meet you, mommy, daddy loves you a lot”, “I should’ve been the one, not you”. There are more, but she’s lost track of them as the years passed.

Her misty eyes train on the back of her father’s head. Should she finally talk to him about it?

“Daddy?”

Cerulean eyes shoot to the clock on the wall. 1.12am. He wonders why she’s even awake but he pulls it together. This is no time to be panicking. He clears his throat, subtly wiping the tears away from his cheek.

Keep up the act.

“Yes, my little princess?”

She skips toward him in spite of the somber mood. Anything that can make her father smile, no matter how small, she will do it. But the real tension comes when she opens her mouth seeking the truth.

“Is it my fault mommy is… dead?”

Many a times Chuuya had wondered what was the right thing, the best thing, to say in a situation like this. But somehow, in this moment, now that she’s actually asked him the very thing he wished he would never have to address, he knows exactly what to say to put her at ease.

“Honey,” he calls as he carries her up to sit on his lap. “It could never be.”

He lifts an index finger to boop her on the nose, just to watch as she adorably scrunches up her face in response.

There it is — the same reaction as you.

“Wherever mommy is, she’s glad you were born. And you weren’t there but, the moment she laid eyes on you that day you were born? I promise you, I’ve never seen her happier than she was.” He plants a kiss on her temple. “She loves you, little lady, and so do I. So don’t worry your pretty mind with this, okay?”

The relief they both feel — it’s unbelievable. A huge burden off their shoulders. And he carries her into bed, tucking her in as he usually does, but this time he stays beside her, lulling her to sleep, just as he did you — tenderly, softly, like she’s the most precious thing in the world. And your daughter? She feels safe, warm, tranquil.

...

Or so she would have.

But she’s still a child.

The doubt of the practicality of the ideal situation etches itself in her mind, securing a permanent spot in the back of her head. Fear takes over, and she snaps out of her daydreams, closing the room door instead of going to talk to her father — coming back to the nightmare where her father cries himself to sleep at night, all alone on the couch, then to sleep in a cold bed; coming back to the nightmare where her father lives with the monster.

The monster called pain.

And unfortunately, that’s a monster they both share. And will share, for as long as they live.

@yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

[solivar]

The Left Hand Path: Three Years Ago

aka the One In Which Genji and Zenyatta meet.

The Standing Stones of Santa Ana Pueblo

Location: Just above the Red Line off I-25 N/Old New Mexico Route 68 N, Sandoval County north of the Albuquerque Military Exclusion Area.

Before the Crisis, Santa Ana Pueblo was a thriving Tamayame reservation, part of the Greater Albuquerque Metropolitan area, and a major tourist draw in the region owing to its world-class golf courses and club, a well-regarded spa resort, a casino and Michelin-starred restaurant, and a multitude of easily accessible cultural sites and events spread throughout the year. All of that changed on the afternoon of August 13, 2046 when Omnic forces advancing on Albuquerque breached the containment cordon along Route 40 and the US military, massed there to stop them, unleashed experimental high energy weaponry designed for that task.

Once the dust settled, the city of Albuquerque and much of the surrounding area, including the Sandia and Santa Ana Pueblos, was almost completely leveled. In the aftermath, the military cordoned off the ruins of the city inside the Albuquerque Military Exclusion Area, which remains under heavily patrolled Federal military control to this day. Evacuees from the surrounding area were strongly encouraged not to return, with offers to purchase their land at pre-Crisis market value to sweeten the deal. Many accepted, a handful did not, and those that chose to do so returned to a pueblo whose buildings were reduced to rubble and scattered with wreckage -- and something weird that was neither.

The Standing Stones of Santa Ana Pueblo occupy a relatively compact chunk of land on the grounds of what was once Santa Ana Golf Club, shielded from casual view by a stand of cottonwood trees that somehow survived the explosions that leveled the clubhouse and most of the other course structures and did significant damage to the surrounding area. There are nine of them, standing in a geometrically perfect circle, varying in size from from well over six feet to a little over five, perfectly hexagonal in shape, crafted of a dark stone that at least superficially resembles basalt. The inner surface of each stone is densely carved with petroglyphs incised deeply into the rock. The outer surface of each stone is carved with one petroglyph unique to that stone and which cannot be found on any of the others, inside or out. Local experts on Native American petroglyphs continue to research this topic but, as of this writing, none of the petroglyphs that appear on the Standing Stones resemble any glyphs that appear on historical sites in the region.

Nor were the Standing Stones a feature of the area before the Omnic Crisis, as confirmed by surviving photos and video of the course and local residents of the area, including the former owners of the golf club. At some point after the evacuation of Santa Ana Pueblo, the Standing Stones appeared in their current location, unnoticed by anyone despite the heavy military presence and regular patrols of the area, and despite the amount of effort such a project would entail. The stones, though tall and relatively slender, are still estimated to weigh several hundred pounds each -- not something that could be loaded, unloaded, and placed by a single person working by hand alone.

The hundred or so families who make Santa Ana Pueblo their home give the Standing Stones a wide berth, citing weirdly colored lights that appear close to the ground around them and occasionally in the sky above, strange disembodied sounds, and a deep thrumming hum that periodically rises from the area. These phenomena have appeared on official reports from area law enforcement and also on official notices issued from the Albuquerque Exclusion Area’s patrol base. Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, most of these phenomena have been observed around the anniversary of the Battle of Albuquerque on August 13th.

If you want to try to catch the weirdness in action, make certain you’re prepared to handle high desert summer weather and get your permissions in order accordingly. The former grounds of Santa Ana Golf Course are private property posted against trespass and the area is periodically patrolled by both the US military and tribal coalition police.

“Tonight’s the night, everybody. August the thirteenth. The anniversary of the Battle of Albuquerque. It’s taken months to get my uncle to trust me enough to go out on perimeter patrol but this is our pay off.” Cody Peshlakai lowered his voice, dramatically, because there was no real danger of being heard, to hype up the audience watching his live HollaGram stream. “Tonight I will investigate the Standing Stones and tonight you will be with me.”

He flashed a grin and a V-for-victory sign into his camera then clipped it to the stabilizer harness strapped around his shoulders and across his chest, one more piece of survival equipment among the molle pouches carrying the rest of his gear, no different from anyone else’s. It sat there, neatly hidden next to his cellphone and the primitive walkie talkie his uncle insisted the security crews carry, through the team muster and meeting at the pueblo ranger station, broadcasting all the while. Nobody objected when he called dibs on one of the spiffy little hybrid hover/wheels ATVs, a good chunk of the all-volunteer patrol crew being old enough to value the superior shock absorption of the service’s Jeeps and trucks. The ATV yielded a much better POV for the viewers as he jetted out across the scrubby desert hardpack on the eastern bank of the Rio Grande toward his goal: the grounds of the former Santa Ana Pueblo Golf Club.

Which was, unfortunately, on the western side of the Rio Grande.

On the way, he passed clusters of habitation: the small, self-contained farmsteads of single families, an artist’s commune, the little solar farm that served the area and its caretaker’s hacienda. He paused at each and exchanged a few words with the residents, radioed a handful of coyote sightings back to base, and continued on, the excitement churning higher and higher in his gut the closer he came to his goal, as his numbers climbed on his viewership monitor.

“So, yeah, that’s my job, stream -- I help keep my community, my friends and neighbors, safe. Sometimes that’s chasing off coyotes that are getting a little too comfortable raiding the compost bins but sometimes...sometimes it’s a lot weirder.” The remains of the old Highway 550 bridge loomed out of the twilight, crumbling concrete pilings jutting out of the shallowest, siltiest part of the river and he pulled to a halt, executing a slow pan to give the stream the best view possible. “On the other side of the river and a few miles west is what’s left of the Santa Ana Pueblo Golf Club. It used to be a world-class course, fancy-ass hotel and casino inclusive, made a lot of jobs and money for the community. All that, of course, came to an end during the Omnic Crisis.”

He revved the motivator, fired up the hoverpods to their highest yield, and skimmed across the surface of the river and up the opposite bank. A vista of devastation, stained in shades of sunset and shadow, spread out before them and the stream chat went absolutely wild. The residential neighborhoods south of 550 had been utterly flattened during the Battle of Albuquerque, hardly a brick left stacked or a wall left standing, blown all-but-flat by some incomprehensibly massive force. That, combined with the occasional blast crater and random scattering of unexploded ordnance, had discouraged resettlement so thoroughly nobody even wanted to risk putting up a solar farm. Wreckage still lay scattered as far as the eye could see and the eye could see quite a distance, even with twenty-plus years of desert scrub overgrowth blurring the harshest edges.

“Nobody really knows what happened here that day -- August thirteenth, the Battle of Albuquerque,” Cody narrated as he kicked the ATV back into motion, navigating carefully down the cracked and pitted remnants of 550 toward his goal. “Just about everybody was evacuated and the ones that stayed behind...well. Let’s just say that, when all was said and done, there wasn’t anyone left to tell the tale.”

The bombed-out, burned-out remnants of the old hotel-casino came into view, its parking lot still filled with the rusting hulks of abandoned vehicles. “The casino and golf course were used as a rallying and evacuation point for the nearby communities on the west bank of the Rio Grande in the days leading up to the battle. The US Army and local militia forces were massing along I-40 -- the Red Line -- and the Air Force and Air National Guard were flying refugees out by helo, the National Guard had commandeered every bus, van, and free personnel carrier they could get their hands on to get people out of harm’s way. This entire area was an absolute hive of activity, you can find video of it all over the internet.”

He paused long enough to link some of his favorites in the chat as he turned off the main road, easing the ATV along something that was once a paved maintenance access point, running roughly parallel with the river. He hit the first scraggly bits of “green,” grass genetically engineered to survive the heat and dry of a high desert summer, a few minutes later and he pulled up onto the flat, opened up his holomap, and pinged his location for the audience. “I’m here -- just south of the lower water trap which is, at this point, completely dry. Our objective is...here.” He touched the copse of cottonwood trees a mile and a half to the north. “The Standing Stones. No one knows how they got here -- they weren’t here before the battle and they weren’t here during the evacuation. But when the recovery teams swept through to see what, if anything, had survived...there they were.”

He gunned the motivator, turned the headlights up to maximum, and muted the call trying to come in from his uncle, likely demanding where the Hell he was. Oh, he was getting fired for this. So very, very fired. But very soon that wouldn’t matter, because after tonight his career was going elsewhere.

The stream picked up every jounce and bounce as he skimmed over ruts and bits of wreckage flung miles from their origins, swerved around scrub becoming less and less scrubby as he went and the wild descendants of decorative plants that had somehow survived despite it all. The cottonwood stand was still the tallest thing around and he slowed as it came into view. “My plan is to set up motion-activated cameras in a perimeter around the Standing Stones and several inside the circle of the Stones, as well, along with a super-sensitive microphone pickup and electromagnetic monitoring equipment. If something happens tonight, we’ll see and hear it.”

He stopped as the ATV’s headlights washed over the trees and struck glints from the Standing Stones themselves, dark stone reflecting darkly -- and more. Cody froze, still straddling his seat. “Oh, fuck -- there’s someone else in there --”

Cody killed the headlights and the motivator and rolled off the ATV into the relative cover of the underbrush in one smoothish and only mildly panicked motion. He even managed to avoid squeaking too much as he whispered, “Chat, did you see that? Did anyone else see that?!”

Yes!

Me, too!

I saw it -- it was TALL

Dozens of messages bubbled up in the chat as his audience scrolled back and scrutinized every frame for him. For his part, he dug his brand new Panopticon binoculars out of gear bag, clipped them into place on his tactical visor, and tried to get a better look of his own, zooming in on the Standing Stones so closely he could clearly see the petroglyphs incised into their surfaces, even with the last of the light bleeding out of the sky behind them. None of the grainy-green of old school low light optics with these babies, and he scanned the area and slow and careful, looking for some hint of what he saw, something, anything --

A flicker of motion caught his eye, something moving among the Stones, mostly obscured by their mass.

“Fuck.” This...was not a complication he had considered, much less prepared for. This whole area in general and the Standing Stones very much in specific were so far out of bounds that he never imagined encountering another person out here at all much less…

On the night of the anniversary of the battle of Albuquerque.

He had to physically resist the urge to facepalm. “Chat, I...think I know what this is.” He crawled back out of the brush and hunkered down next to the ATV, tried to get a better angle on the inside of the circle. “You know how every year there’s a remembrance ceremony at the big Crisis Memorial up in Santa Fe? Well...what if I told you that some people come down to the pueblo for their own private remembrances, too? It’s the anniversary, after all. Let me see if --”

A shriek of audio distortion drilled his ear with the enthusiasm of an icepick straight to the brain and it was all he could do not to howl as he clawed his audio pickup out. “Holy fuck, what was that?”

The chat, in the corner of the heads-up display on his visor, was losing its entire fucking mind -- whatever it was, they had heard it, too, and --

A second pulse of sound, deep and resonant, punched him in the chest hard enough to make both his heart and breathing stutter, and the chat went absolutely apeshit again as it fed through to them, as well.

“You know what, Chat,” Cody said, as soon as he got enough breath back to speak, “I think I’m going to take your advice and get the Hell --”

Golden light blossomed inside the circle of the Standing Stones -- for an instant, to his eyes, it looked as though the petroglyphs themselves were lighting up, searing their patterns into his retinas with a single unwary glance. He reeled back and looked away as he clawed both the tac visor and the binoculars off his face, blinking afterimages out of his vision, the light washing out of the stone circle, over him, over everything, and --

Calm flowed over him, over him and through him, a wave of perfect serenity that stole away all his fear between one breath and the next, left him wobbling on legs made of rubber, legs that folded up underneath him and left him sprawled on his back, eyes and camera both pointed at the swiftly darkening sky, hazed in golden light. He could hear the pinging of his stream’s chat freaking out a few physical inches and a couple thousand conceptual realities away, but couldn’t bring himself to care. That sweet golden light was all he knew and that majestic bone-deep music, and he allowed himself to drift away on it, blinking away like a pinched-out candle between one breath and the next.

It was some time later that the rescue team found him, sprawled out next to the ATV, boneless, blissed out and drooling. But not, as they feared, dead.

“I told you this little moron was up to something,” Julia Tso nudged him in the ribs with the tip of one hiking boot. “He’s been streaming crap on HollaGram for months, Joseph.”

“Yeah, I know.” Joseph Peshlakai sighed and signaled the medical evac team to come in from the road. “Keep an eye on him until they get here, yeah?”

Julia rolled her eyes but nodded and Joseph crossed the remaining distance to the Standing Stones, where a golden light still pulsed among them, within them, the petroglyphs alight. He stopped outside, cleared his throat, and said, “Thank you for not killing him, Wanderer. He’s an idiot but he’s my kid brother’s favorite child.”

Youth and folly are not offenses punishable by death, my old friend. The voice echoed in his mind, warm and amused, but not less awesome because of it. Thank you, as always, for watching over them in my absence.

“My honor, Wanderer. I’m honestly a little surprised to see you this soon. It’s only been, what, five years?” Five years to the day, Joseph thought but did not say.

Yes. I...think I will be staying for a time. Not here. But close. I feel...A frisson of unease passed between them, mind to mind, a chill crawling down his spine. I feel that I will be needed, sooner rather than later.

Joseph took a deep, steadying breath and nodded. “Things have been...a little stranger than usual, I will admit. It will be good to have you back, even if only for a time.”

It will be good to be home. Farewell for now, old friend.

The golden light blinked out, and Joseph knew he was alone. The Stones faded more slowly at his back, as he walked back down the shallow rise to his lieutenant and his idiot nephew and the knowledge growing in his mind that things were going to get worse before they got better.

[crimsoncityhq]

PART II

There are some minor hitches in the night, but overall things are going a bit too good. It makes some question the time, and they’re surprised when they glance down their watches to find it well past curfew. Mysteriously the absence of law enforcement starts to swell the senses filling some with guilt and others with an overabundance of suspicion. At first it’s almost as if time freezes, like you’re trapped in one of the paintings on the wall. White noise has dissolved, but you can feel the quake under your feet.  The distorted mouths of the company around you, as the shift in environment explodes. Flames rain down like hellfire from the second floor, unable to shake the horrific silence you can see the rubble of foundation start to join with the fire. 

Fight or flight kicked in for the residents in the art museum. Some of them taking the artwork to save over their dead bodies, and some use this opportune moment to finally begin open hunting season on those that harvested their organs. There seems to be some mix up at the door of the entrance. One group helping people get out, and the other hindering. The ringing in your ear stops enough for you to hear the invisible gunfire that started to rock over the roar of flames.

PART II  will run until Wednesday May 5th 10PM EST. Plot slots can be found underneath the cut!

We’re going to allow each person to choose two plot slots for two characters max .If there are any leftovers, we’ll let members know when they can sign up for thirds. 

You’ll notice that some of these plots are public, so feel free to have your character react to them/ notice them even if they aren’t happening directly to your character. However, if something feels like it happened privately to another character, please check in with their Mun to see if it’s okay for your character to know.

To be clear: these are not the only things that happen to your character during this plot drop and you are more than welcome to cook up your own trouble.

To sign up for a plot slot message the main! You can start doing that as soon as right now! You may start the threads as soon as you’d like. Keep in mind that you can only message the main plot slots choices for your characters alone. 

Also, if you’re going to have your character be injured during the phase of part II message the main ( just so we can include it in the conclusion summary)! Your character can still be injured, but we thought it would be cool to include characters in the summary.

PLOT SLOTS 

CHARACTER A notices sparks flicker out from behind a painting. Their knee jerk reaction kicks in and they run into CHARACTER B when the painting lights on fire.. 

CHARACTER C ( FAUST AFF ) triggers one of the distraction bombs, but they didn’t count on CHARACTER D being injured in the aftermath.

BIRDIE MENDOZA has caught their gown  in the rotating door whilst trying to make their escape, and  TORI MASSARO has to decide whether they want to risk their own skin and help or chalk it up the BIRDIE MENDOZA’s bad luck.

JIN-AE ‘JJ’ RAU-BYRNE is engaged in a conversation with the bartender & JESSE VALENCIA, but that conversation is cut short when the bartender catches an unfortunate stray bullet in the face. It’s up to save themselves or help each other get shelter. 

CHARACTER I, CHARACTER J and CHARACTER K have their own mission for tonight, and this chaos offers the perfect opportunity. Who knows how they made it in with box cutters, but CHARACTER I, CHARACTER J and CHARACTER K leave their marks across canvases all the way down the main hall. The flames are closing in fast, though, so don’t dawdle for too long. 

CHARACTER L ( FAUST AFF )  & CHARACTER M both are the first people to arrive at the doors of the Art Institute after the chaos starts. One with the goal to keep people in, and the other to keep people out.

ZAKIYA AL KHATIB & OLIVER FAUST detonate the bomb underneath the elevator that traps WYATT LEON, ISABELLA FAUST, AND RAFFERTY DOYLE inside and they have to work together to get out. 

CHARACTER R strikes a deal with CHARACTER S to use this opportunity to steal the most prized piece of artwork in the Art Institute. It almost goes perfectly, until they launch it out a window that’s not illuminated by flames. However, when they finally make it out to collect their prize ▬ EVELINA VASILE is holding it and also brandishing a weapon. 

DIAMOND WASHINGTON who not-so-cautiously accepted a colorful pill from a stranger earlier in the night, is convinced the eyes of the painting are moving, suggesting someone may be trapped inside. CHARACTER V and CHARACTER W notice DIAMOND WASHINGTON dashing further into the flames and take it upon themselves to help, but that means they’ll have to handle the chaos of whatever DIAMOND WASHINGTON is hallucinating. 

AMADEUS JUDE CASTELLANOS  completely giving no fucks whatsoever picks up a glass of what they assumed was water from the bar to douse a lick of flames that got too close. The problem was it was vodka that fuels the fire, and starts to cover ZOE WASHINGTON. They can either run or stay behind, but ZOE WASHINGTON  is 100% able to ID them. 

AUDREY ROUSSEAU was in the restroom when the explosion occurred, and a large chunk of the balcony has blocked the door. Smoke is filtering through the cracks in the threshold, and AUDREY ROUSSEAU calls frantically for help. EZEKIEL “ZEKE” HALLIDAY hears their cries and opts to help, but the flames are moving closer by the second, and the smoke is getting heavier. EZEKIEL “ZEKE” HALLIDAY has to move fast or they will suffer the same fate as AUDREY ROUSSEAU .

CHARACTER B1 starts to exchange gunfire with CHARACTER C1 up the staircase towards the roof. One of the stray bullets hits another small bomb that causes the staircase to falter. 

ABRAHAM SWEETWINE helps others to safety using a nearby window, but another explosion leaves them burned and trapped under a large piece of the ceiling. JULIA FAUST bolts to their aid and carries ABRAHAM SWEETWINE to safety. Once outside in the lawn, JULIA FAUST must keep ABRAHAM SWEETWINE awake long enough for medical personnel to arrive.

SERAFINA EATON  is able to convince WIKIMAK CLARKE to assist in rescuing the artwork from the chaotic flames. However, after they’re injured in the process SERAFINA EATON realizes the artwork they’re trying to save is falsified. Almost as if the original artwork had been swapped. 

ANYA VOLKOVA uses the opportunity to pickpocket abandoned purses scattered around the main hall. They find a loaded pistol in MARKIE “PAIGE” KRAVTSOV ’s purse right as MARKIE “PAIGE” KRAVTSOV comes to collect it and whatever else ANYA VOLKOVA has taken. It’s up to ANYA VOLKOVA to figure out whether or not a purse is worth killing over, but be warned—the flames are moving fast. 

AUBREE DAMIANI is trampled by a crowd that beelines to the exit. CHARACTER K1 is the only one to stop and help them up off the ground & carry them.

TARON LYNCH  is outside enjoying a cigarette when the explosion rocks the foundation of the Art Institute, and the law enforcement immediately think they’re a suspect along with IAN LOCKE  that had ducked out for a breath of fresh air. They’re taken into custody for questioning. 

CHARACTER N1 and CHARACTER O1 make it to the lawn of the Art Institute just as CHARACTER O1 collapses from smoke inhalation. CHARACTER N1 finds CHARACTER P1 to help carry CHARACTER O1 to first responders.

JAMESON ROBERTS ( WALSH ) narrowly escapes to the lawn, but CONRAD ODAIR( FAUST ) is only a pace behind with a weapon in hand. CONRAD ODAIR fires and barely misses JAMESON ROBERTS, who realizes if they don’t retaliate, there’s no getting out of the art museum alive. 

[scotianostra]

2nd October 1263 saw The Battle of Largs.

Before I go into the full details it is thought that anywhere between 1200 and 2,000 ships set sail from Norway to vanquish the Scots, can you imagine how they would have looked sailing round the islands on the West coast? It must have been an amazing, if frightening sight!

Many writers have said that The Scots won this battle against the Norse army of Haakon the Old of Norway, but a lot of historians agree there was no clear winner on the day, in fact the battle may have lasted several days, Scotland however took advantage of circumstances when King Haakon died in December, it would eventually mean the end of Viking influence over the west of Scotland.

The Battle of Largs also gave rise to the legend of how Scotland's national flower, the thistle came about.

When the Vikings had first begun raiding across the North Sea 400 years earlier, there had been no king of Norway and no king of Scotland. Their often savage raids evolved over time into trade and settlement. By the early 1200s both countries were united under powerful and ambitious kings.

When you hear of the Hebrides most only think of the Western Isles, the Outer Hebrides, and maybe Skye but the region known as Innse Gall also included islands such as Bute and Cumbrae on The Clyde estuary, very close to the Scottish mainland. Isle of Man, Shetland and Orkney Isles were also held by the Norsemen.

Haakon IV and Alexander II of Scotland were born within a few years of each other and came to the throne around the same time. They both were ambitious and were keen to extend and maintain their Kingdoms. It was Bute and Cumbrae that Alexander II had his eyes on. Alexander however had died on Kerrera of fever after sailing the west coast with a powerful fleet in 1249 in order to meet the Norwegians in battle.

Things calmed down for a while, probably due to the new Scottish King, Alexander III being a young boy when acceding to the throne, partly due to a struggle for the Scottish throne that included the Comyns and Mac Williams.

By 1263 the infighting was over and matters turned once more to pushing for control of The Hebrides. The dispute with the Alexander III over the Hebrides induced Haakon to undertake an expedition to the islands. Having learned in 1262 that Scottish nobles had raided the Hebrides and that Alexander III planned to conquer the islands, Haakon went on an expedition with his formidable "leidang" fleet of at least 120 ships in 1263, having become accustomed to negotiating backed by an intimidating fleet. The fleet left Bergen in July, and reached Shetland and Orkney in August where they were joined by chieftains from the Hebrides and Man. Negotiations were started by Alexander following Norwegian landings on the Scottish mainland, but were purposely prolonged by the Scots.

The 59-year-old Norwegian king - an old man by the standards of the day - took personal command of the fleet. For Haakon, this was unfinished business. The chance to crush Scottish ambitions in the Hebrides once and for all.

In Orkney, a Viking stronghold, his already powerful fleet was joined by local forces. Haakon led his fleet through the Hebrides, island by island, demanding allegiance.

By the time he reached the disputed territories of the Clyde, he had 120 ships and up to 20,000 men at his command. It was a force that would have rivalled the Spanish Armada of 300 years later.

Alexander, based down the coast in Ayr, knew he could not defeat Haakon at sea but if he could stall long enough then the autumn weather might do what his forces could not.

Haakon sent envoys to demand Alexander withdraw his claims but the Scottish king spun out the negotiations.

On 1 October 1263 the weather broke.

The storm was so sudden and so powerful that survivors could only imagine it had been conjured up by sorcery. Haakon's fleet was scattered, with several ships driven ashore under the noses of local militia.

The next morning Haakon managed to get onshore with 1,000 men to salvage the ships and their cargo. That was when the Scots pounced.

Haakon's bodyguard got the king back to the safety of the fleet but on the shore the Norsemen were collapsing in disarray. Finally a long ship managed to get ashore to reinforce the beleaguered rearguard and the Norsemen made a stand.

The Battle of Largs petered out into a long distance and sporadic shooting match. Neither side had won. There was no decisive victory, just the usual grim reckoning in warfare.

But if the skirmish fought on the Clyde coast did not decide anything, the aftermath would.

The Norse king's options were limited. Winter was approaching, his supplies were low and his men were getting restless.

He agreed to disperse the fleet and spend the winter in Orkney. He would return in the spring to have his bloody revenge on Alexander.

But Haakon did not see the spring. He died in Orkney on 16 December 1263.

He was the last Norwegian king to mount a military assault on Scotland.

His son Magnus the Lawmender was not interested in continuing the fight and just three years later he gave up the Hebrides and the Isle of Man to Scotland, in return for 4,000 marks in silver and an annual payment, under the Treaty of Perth.

At the same time the Scots recognised Norwegian rule over Shetland and the Orkney Islands.

Now to the thistle, legend has it that at some point during the invasion the Norsemen tried to surprise the sleeping Scottish Clansmen. In order to move more stealthily under the cover of darkness the Norsemen removed their footwear. But as they crept barefoot they came across an area of ground covered in thistles and one of Haakon’s men unfortunately stood on one and shrieked out in pain, thus alerting the Clansmen to the advancing Norsemen.

The Largs Pencil monument, in the third pic, is a memorial to the battle.

[notbang]

rethaniel appreciation week day 3 → friction

nothing but the raw deal

It takes her a minute to register her surroundings when she stirs, unfamiliar as she is with them, even if the person currently sharing their sheets with her is someone she knows almost as intimately as herself, at this point.

“Mmm, good morning,” Rebecca hums, stretching and curling into him.

She’s just in the middle of craning her neck to get at his mouth to steal a kiss—morning breath be damned—when Nathaniel wraps a giant palm around her shoulder, holding her at arm’s length.

“What the hell happened to your face?”

“Well, rude,” she says, frowning, and then she starts to get an inkling of what he’s talking about because the pull of the grimace makes her skin feel tight and hot and sore. “Ugh. Dude. You. You happened to my face.” She shifts experimentally and immediately winces, dropping back down and burying her head with a sleepy, disgruntled groan. “And apparently also to places that are not my face.”

Re-emerging from beneath her pillow, she flips back the blankets, exposing the entirety of the unmistakable path of irritated skin rising into welts between her breasts and grazing a trail across her belly and below. Her left inner thigh got the brunt of it, she notes with only some mild contortion, where the general blotchiness is already breaking out into angry little red spots.

Nathaniel, to his credit, looks vaguely horrified.

She waves him off. “It’s fine, it was self inflicted. Kinda.” He raises a disbelieving eyebrow at her. “Fine—it was definitely mostly self inflicted, based on the indisputable fact that I was the one enthusiastically sitting on your face. Not that you needed much encouragement, for the record. And not to mention that you’re, like, the one with the face of a thousand spiky deaths that inspired the enthusiastic riding to begin with.”

“You said you liked the beard!” he says, an edge of panic dislodging some of the quintessential haughty defensiveness from his voice.

“I did like the beard,” she assures him. “Guatemala looks good on you. I’m just having some second thoughts about it now, in the cold light of day, where my entire body is on fire.” She swears she sees him pale in response, so she can’t resist grabbing for her foot and teasing, “Oh, nope—see, you missed a spot.”

Expression pinched, he continues to bristle about it as he gets up and sets about collecting their scattered clothing from where it’s been strewn across his hardwood floor, and it doesn’t entirely make sense, the way this prickly back and forth with him in the immediate aftermath of their long-awaited reunion fills her with such overwhelming fondness.

Nathaniel’s new apartment is bigger than his old one, but the interior design is currently a lot less magazine spread, a lot more living out of the miscellaneous boxes he’s only recently pulled from storage. One of the pitfalls to his bed actually being enclosed in, well, a bedroom this time around is that when he disappears to the bathroom, he’s both completely out of sight and earshot.

When he comes back, his jaw is entirely clean-shaven.

“Wow. You work quick.” When he shoots her a pointed look—something distinctly in the vein of you of all people should know why!—she can’t help but grin. “Aww. You’re so cute when you think you’ve somehow ruined your chances with me by giving me the ol’ stubble trouble.”

He still isn’t sharing in her amusement—she supposes she should know, by now, that making fun of him is always going to elicit a mixed bag—so she switches her expression to reassuring instead. “Nathaniel, honestly, it’s no big deal. I’ll slap some moisturiser on it and buy some concealer for my chin. Worst case scenario, I walk with an unfortunate waddle for a day or two. Which, you know what? Is just as easily blamed on… other parts of you than your facial hair. Also, how has this never happened to you before? When I first met you the razor-sharp scruff was basically your whole look.”

“Huh,” he says, some of the tension going out of him as he considers this, last night’s shirt still hanging limply in his hand. “Guess I never stuck around long enough—or paid enough attention—to find out.”

She pouts out her lower lip and places a hand to her heart. “See? That just makes it all the more romantic that you’re here, experiencing this ordeal with me now.”

He huffs, making a beeline for his hamper.

Having lost interest in his ongoing need to channel his persistent unease into creating some kind of order from their collective chaos, she collapses back on the bed, sticking her legs up in the air and splitting them, making a pathetic noise in accompaniment but on the whole completely unconcerned with her own—admittedly unseemly—display.

“Is that really necessary?” Nathaniel asks, pulling a face. “Does that actually help?”

“Unless you plan on getting in there with some WD-40, yeah, this is what we’re doing right now. Why, you expecting guests, or something?”

He balls up her light blue underwear and throws them at her. “Would you put on pants if I were?”

“I mean, I would probably be forced to consider it, yeah.”

“Glad to hear you still have a shred of dignity intact.”

“It is hanging by an admittedly small thread.”

After a long moment of staring at her, during which she makes no attempt to decrease the degree of her exposure, a strangled kind of cough works its way out of him that she thinks might finally be a laugh.

She drops her legs even wider and props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him. “Are you having a stroke?”

“No,” he says, turning away briefly to compose himself. “I just—You’re so—I don’t know.” His eyes slink slowly back to hers. “I don’t… know… anyone like you.”

It could just be coincidence—that she’s merely reaching the upper limits of her own admittedly measly muscular endurance—but her knees start to cave in on her a little. She sits up properly, a toothy smile blossoming across her face of its own accord. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nathaniel affirms, and comes to sit beside her on the bed.

After a few seconds of contented silence, she asks, “Nathaniel?”

“Mmm?”

“Did you just fall a little bit in love with me while I was bearing my beard-burned vagina at you?”

He makes a show of sighing loudly and rolling his eyes away from her, so she knows without a glimmer of doubt that the answer is yes. Heart bright and full, she grabs his hand in hers and squeezes, re-commanding his attention.

“Hey. I l…ike your new rug,” she says with mock sincerity, waggling her eyebrows at him when he registers the bait and switch. “Wonder what shade of red it’ll bring out in my knees.”

Nathaniel growls, making sure to push her back against the mattress by her relatively unscathed shoulders.

“You’re an asshole,” he tells her lightly, skin smooth against hers, and his voice is laced with nothing but the utmost affection.

[jjba-hell]

Take of Prometheus

Ahhh so... the next two pieces I went OVERboard. This is not character specific but very reader driven. As a warning as well- you’ve probably noticed that I do not really do the whole “soft” reader thing. I want to hold my own against anyone, my reader inserts are no different. (Also conversation flow is easier)

Some context for the piece-

Sorbet is the reader’s brother

Reader does possess a stand that can hold souls by the chain that binds them to their bodies- this can be used to keep people “alive” until their bodies can recover or it can be used to kill by breaking those chains on command.

Reader used to work in forensics before getting mixed up with the mafia.

Prompt chosen: Death, more specifically dealing with the aftermath of an important death

Triggers: complicated family dynamics, death of a relative, pretty intense conceptialization of post-mortem operations and uhh that’s it

@lasquadraweek2020 @risottoneroo @giogio-gucci-gangstar and @junosartsthetic​

2,5K words and gender neutral reader- seriously, good luck

The irony of holding a funeral service for your brother wasn’t one you thought you’d have to endure but unfortunately for you, it wasn’t your choice.

You rose up from your seat on the chapel pew and started moving towards the back- passing by the rest of your squad who were scattered in their own pattern among their seats- most of them in pairs.

They were, however, the only ones who could attend- not like you and Sorbet had any other family that would grieve among you. That was a choice he had made, one which you were unfortunately dragged into.

The funeral processions went on as usual- with the caskets being carried out of the chapel and taken to the side-by-side graves. You and Risotto were tailing behind the two caskets being carried by the other members. It would have been nice if you felt sad or morose about the whole affair but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

All you felt was an uncontrollable rage you didn’t want to deal with, much less act on. Perhaps you were still in shock- the manner of your brother’s death seemed so bizarre you hardly believed it wasn’t some twisted trick he was pulling and at the same time you KNEW the cruelty of your Boss was displayed in those formalin glass cases. Gelato’s horrified expression almost surprised you more- that bastard never feared anything.

Risotto gently took hold of your shoulder and pressed you forward towards the lowering coffins. You had the honors of tossing the first handful of dirt.

You moved ahead, knelt down between the two graves and gently let the clumps of moistened dirt slip from your hands. The first handful for Sorbet was because you were family, but for Gelato-you had forged a marriage contract for the two of them to persuade the church to to let them be buried together. The mafia did many unspeakable things but threatening churches was not one of them- probably the Catholic guilt from their homes making itself known.

The rest of the team followed suit, bowing their heads in a prayer you knew had no use- neither one of them were going anywhere good after death.

When the grave keepers started shoveling the rest of the dirt on you didn’t wait to see them finish the job, you simply left to find a private corner to indulge yourself in a cigarette- a habit you thought you had broken.

You pulled the packet and lighter from your back pocket and soon found a particularly deep set angel statue with a wide base to slip onto, at the very back of the church- overlooking a courtyard you saw no purpose for other than looking good.

The first drag had just left your lips before you heard footsteps approaching. You’d recognize that stride anywhere. “Stop following me, Risotto.”

True to your prediction, Risotto rounded the corner on you and with a sigh he held out his hand. You’d caught him killing a cigarette in the alleyway behind the base once before, but you figured that was only because the pressure of looking for your brother was taking a toll on him. He took one of your cigarettes and lit it before returning your pack back to you- not uttering a word to you.

Illuso had once told you he had gotten a lead on how long Risotto had been in the mafia- more specifically La Squadra, you shuddered to hear the answer of 16. You’d only joined after wasting a few years away at medical school- unable to imagine your 16-year-old self killing people then. It takes time to become desensitized to this sort of thing. Maybe that was why all you felt was anger right now. And somehow you could laugh at the almost awkward question Risotto asked you.

“Holding up?”

“I’m fine. Can’t really say I feel anything...‘cept maybe rage.”

He only nodded, bringing the cigarette to his lips once more. “I’m guessing we won’t be receiving any orders or any pay for a while.”

“It’s not the pay, Ris.”

You let the moment slip by for a second. You truly didn’t care about getting paid- you weren’t stupid. Most of you had some emergency nest eggs carved and duct taped into your mattresses.

“I’m mad at my brother.”

“You’re mad at your brother getting caught?”

“I’m mad that after all this time- years after he promised me he stopped gambling, he took the ultimate gamble and fucked us all over one more time.”

Risotto stepped to the other side of the statue base, leaning against it.

“And you believed him?”

“Stupidly, yes- I did. I thought he had what he wanted. The risk, the danger, the blood, guts and gore but it still wasn’t enough. Now I ask you, Risotto Nero- how are we supposed to move on? The Boss doesn’t trust us, we can’t disband or disappear, the money’s already running dry- all we are, are sitting ducks waiting to be slaughtered.”

Risotto didn’t say anything, those black and red eyes gazing back at you with the same cool anger you could only hope you held in your voice.

He stepped forward, held onto your arm and seemed to be using Metallica on both of you. When you gazed down at your own body you were becoming transparent. Eventually neither one of you could be discerned from the shadows. “I’m not going down without a fight.” He grumbled from where you could only guess his face was. “First opportunity I see, I’m going after the Boss myself.”

It would have been a lie if you said you weren’t surprised. Of all people to go after the Boss, Risotto was the one you least expected to act out.

Metallica wore off and you were back to watching Risotto take a drag from his cigarette. Of course you understood why- why wait to have your throat slit when you could do something to prevent the person from getting to you, it was only stupid because you were running towards the one holding them knife.

“I’m not gonna sugar-coat it, y/n. I know how it feels to lose family, blood family and I need to make one thing very clear.”

He killed the cigarette under his foot and then looked you straight on. “I couldn’t even wish to succeed at this mission without you.”

Life within La Squadra, or specifically Passione, had started off rather innocently a few years back. You had made it into a state mortuary- proud of how far you’d come on your own. By that time, Gelato had become the newest addition to the apartment you shared with your brother. Sorbet never disclosed to you what exactly he did but you’d had your suspicions that whatever it was, it was probably illegal. At the time, you didn’t care...by then you could pay for the apartment yourself, should he ever disappear. It wasn’t like you were THAT close.

It was just that one night, when he and Gelato came stumbling into the apartment- bloody, beaten and a little drunk when everything suddenly started to go downhill. Both of them had stab wounds littering their bodies and you initially wanted to take them to the hospital but they were adamant that you not even look at the phone to call for anyone else.

So you stitched them up yourself. Big mistake.

For no sooner than that same night you came back from work did you find another gang mate asking to be stitched up.

One right after the other- your time was spent with dissecting people during the day and stitching the living back together at night. Of course the gang couldn’t have you as a possible liability- possibly babbling about what awaited you when you got home so you ended up having to join, your job abandoned and because of Sorbet, you ended up in La Squadra as a medic. Or at least so you thought until they started bringing you along on missions so often that you ended up killing all on your own.

You suppose that’s why you felt like you couldn’t mourn Sorbet’s death- if not for him, you might have still been living a normal life.

“You mean my stand.” You narrowed your eyes at Risotto and for once he huffed a bit of laughter- the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe a bit of your brains on the side as well?”

In the stare off you two held for a second you were reminded of everything you had been through since Delivery day.

You couldn’t imagine having to send your brother’s body to the crematorium or anywhere in the state it was in. The responsibility to get it into presentable condition suddenly fell upon you...

It was labor intensive- you had to use a false structure- something resembling his original skeleton- that you could glue and stitch all his severed pieces back together. Dead bodies were not something new to you, he didn’t mean enough for you to care... yet it still made you vomit every time you had to roll the pieces back into the freezer to work on later.

By the time you had finished, Melone asked you what you’d think Sorbet would have wanted- cremation or burial.

You chose burial as a joke- knowing the vain bastard would rather be lowered into the ground in pieces than have his ashes mixed with anyone else’s, the exception being Gelato’s of course.

You just didn’t quite expect Risotto to take you seriously- needless to say it wasn’t an open casket though.

You broke off your gaze from Risotto with a sigh- looking out over the picture perfect grounds in front of you.

It was Risotto who spoke out eventually. “I can’t pretend to know what’s going on inside your head, y/n. The decision remains yours to make, I won’t coerce you. Just know that if we go to hell, we’re dragging the Boss with us.”

With that he walked away in the opposite direction he came from, leaving you to steep in his words.

You said nothing as you took your own cab to your apartment that was now halfway packed away in boxes- shoved into what you could now consider a spare bedroom so that you could at least plop down on the couch without having to run an obstacle race. Not like you wanted to have any reminders of the ghosts of your brother and his boyfriend.

However you soon came to understand that that was inevitable...

Every damn thing you came across in the apartment reminded you of them- the kitchen counter that hosted so many botched up people they had brought to you, the busted up microwave display Gelato had hit with a baseball bat... then you remembered the batch of unfolded laundry sitting in the basket that held more of their clothes than it did your own.

You shoved the apartment door shut behind you and with a groan slid down with your back against the door.

What exactly you were feeling, you were unsure. Were you truly mad at them? Or was that just a guise to hide how much your heart ached that you had lost all blood relative you had? You should be happy, shouldn’t you? He dragged you into this mess, didn’t he? You were stuck here until you’d eventually be killed by it- that was enough to hate him and rejoice at his passing but he remained the one person you’ve ever truly had by your side.

You curled in on your knees, banging your head against your knees in frustration.

“Well, I suppose I owe Risotto an apology.”

You peered up at Prosciutto who was now looking down his nose at you. Of all people to send to check up on you, Risotto chose him?

“What do you want?” You grumbled back at him.

He shrugged, nonchalantly gazing at the hallway around your apartment door. “Risotto tried to convince you of something at the church but I wanted to pitch an alternative to you- if you’re interested.”

You rose up and gave him a side-eye. “I haven’t decide on anything.”

“I’m aware, let’s talk.” He continued as he opened the door behind you, letting you slip in first.

“I’ll be frank dolcezza, nothing is going to bring your brother back and from what I’ve seen from you, you don’t want him back either.” He was talking over his shoulder at you.

“Where is this going, Pros?” You frowned back at him from the front door.

“I’m saying, fuck revenge and fuck your brother.” He turned around to talk to you head on. “You said it yourself- we’re sitting ducks until the Boss decides we’re not and we’re being paid worse than the dealers under some capos. What’s worse is there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“And how does that amount to repeating Sorbet’s mistake?”

Prosciutto sat down on the couch, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette holder. “See it this way, help take down the Boss and either die trying- getting out of the gang if we succeed. OR sit here, do nothing and wait to be taken out of the Boss.”

You took the now lit cigarette from his fingers and brought it to your own mouth. “I’m not stupid, Pros. You didn’t need to come here and explain everything to me like Pesci.”

You moved over to find the crystal ashtray from the kitchen.

“It’s my brother’s death I can’t quite seem to come to terms on.”

You returned the ashtray to the coffee table in front of Prosciutto, taking another drag before handing it back to him.

“Oh come on. What has that bastard ever done to help you?”

“He got me through my first years as a student...he was all I had after our parents died.” You blurted out as you slid off the arm rest of one of the couches to slouch into the single-seater. “Now you tell me- are you really mourning their deaths or are just scared of the message the Boss sent?”

Prosciutto seemed to mull that question over as his cigarette burned out slowly between his fingers.

“We’re mourning. I suppose if you depend on each other as much as we do- it becomes habit to care.”

He didn’t meet your gaze as he uttered those words- killing the cigarette in the ashtray before getting up and striding his way towards the door.

“What was that alternative you wanted to talk to me about?” You called back at him just as he was about to disappear out of sight.

“Simply put? Stay on stand by for when things get ugly for us- if we make it- you get a free ticket out of this shit show.”

[faulty-writes]

The Big Suneater Love Agency

Warnings: Just Fluff 

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: KiriTama (Kirishima Eijiro and Tamaki Amajiki) 

It was no surprise that Tamaki Amajiki was well known to U.A. High, having been part of The Big Three and even at the young age of 17, he was referred to as a Pro Hero. FatGum particularly enjoyed reminding Tamaki of that. But it had been a good few years since he graduated from U.A. and much like new and upcoming heroes, he wasn’t entirely sure where to start or what to do. FatGum had offered him a spot in his agency, after all, he had grown fond of the shy raven-haired boy over the course of their time together. Kirishima too, but in the end, Tamaki ended up teaming up with his dear friends Mirio and Nejire. Together they had built The Big Three Agency from the ground up, it was a hard process but they managed and as much as he hated to admit it, they were doing pretty good for themselves. 

Of course, it had been a good couple of years now. The Big Three Agency was thriving and Tamaki was grateful that most of his friends still came by to visit. FatGum always seemed to want to hang out, mostly go out to eat. Izuku came to visit Mirio and usually, Eri was there as well. But the only person that seemed to stand out from all of them was Kirishima Eijiro also known as Red Riot. Now Tamaki had worked with Kirishima under the supervision of FatGum and during that time, they had gotten to know each other on a decent level. Back then, Tamaki was still somewhat shy about being around the energic redhead. But as they continued to work together, Tamaki found himself being rather appreciative of Kirishima’s company. 

Once in a while, the redhead would drop by. Usually, he would come sturting in with his hero attire and sit on Tamaki’s desk and go on about his day and then suggest they get something to eat. On rare days, he’d come dressed in his civilian clothes and ask Tamaki about his day. But regardless of the day, Kirishima seemed to have a way to convince Tamaki to eat with him. Whether that was going out or eating something that Kiri himself brought. Hell, he even showed up on Tamaki’s birthday to give him a present. Now that surprised the raven more than anything, knowing that Kirishima even remembered his birthday. It was the little details that counted and to anyone else, it was pretty obvious what Kiri’s actions meant but Tamaki was oblivious to such matters. 

Today was one of those days, he had just gotten back from his patrol. Dressed in his hero attire, he entered the main floor of the agency and watched a few heads turn in his direction which only caused him to look to the floor. He still wasn’t used to eyes on him despite the fact he was a Pro Hero. It just didn’t seem to be something he’d get used to, he hated attention most of the time. He pressed his lips together, keeping his head down as he walked past the few people and towards the hallway that led to his office. His secretary, a young intern with a rather interesting quirk was busy at work. Currently getting Suneater’s paperwork ready as she noticed him approaching.  “Ah ...mister Suneater, uh sir!” She called, her voice low and petite. 

“Hm?” He paused in his steps and tilted his head up to look at her. “Uh, I have your paperwork, sir! And uh, mister Red Riot is waiting for you inside. I ...told him that no one is allowed in your office but he insisted and walked through. I’m so sorry!” She cried out as she bowed before the hero who immediately got flustered. “Ah n-no it’s uh, it’s okay!” He insisted, hands held up in a panic. Damn you Kirishima. “I’ll deal with h-him, don’t worry and uh ...” Suneater reached out, snatching the pile of need to be done papers from the desk. “I’ll take care of this, uh t-too.” He tried giving the girl a smile before he resumed walking and opened the door to his office. 

Sure enough, there was Kirishima sitting on top of the desk as always. Tamaki paused in the doorway, his fingers still wrapped around the doorknob as he looked at the fellow hero. The one thing that seemed off was the suit he wore since when did the redhead own a suit? Much less arrive at the Agency in one, well maybe it was for an interview or press conference. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to go through such things, so Tamaki decided to let it slide and closed the door behind him. “Hey, Tamaki! How are you, man!?” Kirishima’s joyful voice came and his features twisted with happiness as Tamaki nodded and took a seat at his desk, throwing the papers onto it without much of a care. 

Sighing, the man reached up to lower his signature hood before running his hand through his messy hair. It had grown longer since his days of U.A. and on occasion, he’d pull it back or tie it into a bun. But today, he wore it loose. Turning his attention to Kirishima, he offered a smile though it was a tad forced. “Hello, Kirishima. Um, y-you seem early today.” He noted, usually, his friend arrived after Tamaki had gotten back from patrol. “Heh, well you know ...” The redhead responded as he rubbed the back of his head, a big smile across that face that made those pointy teeth visible. Sometimes that scared Tamaki but he doubted Kirishima would actually bite him or anything. At least he hoped not. 

“I just couldn’t wait to see you I guess, even though I know you’re busy with all this hero work. You’re the man Tamaki!” A groan came from the older man, sometimes he hated how Kirishima would always compliment him. Not that he would ever voice that opinion, after all, Kirishima was an honest person. Tamaki doubted he would ever lie. “Um, t-thanks. Uh, I just have some paperwork to finish up and t-then I don’t know if you want to go out or something um ...” Tamaki curiously glanced around his desk, if Kirishima did buy something it was usually there sitting in a bag for them to enjoy together. But not this time, which only led him to believe that Kirishima wanted to go out to eat. 

“Geez man, you’re always doing paperwork and patrolling.” The red head’s tone had changed and for a moment, Tamaki was worried that he somehow made the other upset. “Uh well, I ....t-that’s the a-aftermath of a Pro Hero. You get paperwork too, uh don’t you?” He asked as he looked at Kirishima who twisted his position on the desk. “Well I mean yeah! But I don’t get half as much as you do!” Tamaki couldn’t help but chuckle, he didn’t actually think that was true. Though The Big Three Agency did take care of plenty a villain so the amount of paperwork they got was understandable. Though Tamaki, Mirio, and Nejire each handled their own paperwork.  

Tamaki shook his head, though a smile was on his face. Kirishima always managed to make him smile, even when he didn’t necessarily want to. It was wonderful to have such a great friend around. “Well, I know you're a great hero. Um, b-better get on those villains so y-you can get that extra paperwork.” He teased, something he only tended to do with close friends. It took Tamaki a long time to get comfortable enough to joke around others, his sense of humor wasn’t the best after all. Still, it seemed to work as Kirishima smiled. “Well, it wouldn’t be very manly if I let those baddies have their getaway right?” His smile only widened as he flexed in front of Tamaki, partly hoping to impress the older hero. 

“Heh ...” Though the raven noticed those muscles, his eyes quickly went to his paperwork and he reached over to grab one of the many pens that happened to be scattered across his desk. He was lucky that Kirishima didn’t end up sitting on one. However, with that hardening quirk of his, there was very little to worry about. Kirishima however, seemed a little saddened that Tamaki’s attention had shifted away from him. Making it a point to lean over the man that currently had his head ducked as he scribbled away useless words across those papers. “Mm ...” Kirishima hummed in an effort to get the other's attention, which in itself was a strange thing. Of course, he had spent time with Tamaki in U.A. and he had made it a point to keep in contact when Tamaki had graduated. 

Always put time aside to visit him and there were so many things to admire about Tamaki Amajiki. Despite the man’s obvious shy nature and social anxiety. Kirishima found himself attracted to him and all those little nervous habits he noticed. The way Tamaki could stutter or hesitate with his words, the way he'd nervously look around and how he would drum his fingers in an abnormal rhythm when he was thinking. It was oddly adorable to Kirishima and though it had taken him a while to come to terms with his feelings for Tamaki. He did and ever since he had been trying to drop hints to get the fellow hero to notice. But unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Tamaki was catching on. 

So maybe it was time to step up his game. “Tamaki!” He called, watching the raven stop and finally give him the attention he wanted. Though he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat when those innocent indigo eyes looked at him. That was another thing Kirishima grew to love, those pretty eyes. “Uh, d-did you want something K-Kirishima?” That question almost made him laugh and he reached over to snatch that pen from Tamaki’s delicate little fingers. “H-Hey!” Kirishima grinned and purposely held the pen away from Tamaki, who in turn stretched over his desk to try and get it. Sure he had more, but what was Kirishima doing and why? 

Grinning, he grasped the front of Tamaki’s collar. “Ah!”  The raven cried out when he felt those strong fingers pull him close, his feet were now pressed against the cushion of the chair he was previously sitting in. “I do want something Tamaki,” Kirishima said a playful grin across his face which caused Tamaki to panic further. “W-What do you mean?” He wasn’t too sure if he wanted the answer, but somehow he felt Kirishima would give to him regardless. “Tamaki ...have you ever wondered why I come here as often as I can? Why I invite you to lunch or dinner? Why I made such an effort to keep in contact with you even after you graduated?” The series of questions seemed to confuse Tamaki, where was all this coming from?

He felt his mouth go dry and his cheeks slowly turned rosy. Kirishima would no doubt notice, but even if he did. Tamaki hoped he wouldn’t comment on it too much. “Um, I ...well ...” He glanced to the side, unsure of what to even say, was Kirishima being serious? What was this all about? Of course, looking back on it. Tamaki had noticed the sudden interest Kiri seemed to have in him. At first, he thought it was just a simple gesture of friendship but now that he thought about it. Was it more? He never thought of Kirishima as more than a friend, but he would admit. The other was a strong hero, he was attractive and so positive it reminded him of Mirio. 

Kirishima tilted his head, Tamaki seemed to be lost in his own little world, hm well that was nothing he couldn’t fix. “Tamaki ...” He spoke the other's name sweetly and watched that perfect little head turn in his direction. “Uh, y-yeah?” The redhead smirked and leaned closer, brushing his nose against Tamaki’s which only caused that blush of his to deepen. He pushed a little further and ghosted his lips over the shy man’s, feeling how they parted to let out a gasp. For a brief moment, he wondered if Tamaki had ever been kissed or even dated anyone. Kirishima hadn’t recalled seeing him with anyone, so it was unlikely. 

He pulled away, feeling that soft tingle on his lips. Judging by how red Tamaki’s face was at the moment, it was hard to tell if he had enjoyed the small token of affection or if he was simply having a panic attack. Kirishima hoped it was the first one because panic attacks weren’t something he could deal with delicately. Yet he had no problem dealing with Bakugo’s anger issues, but that was another story. “If you didn’t already guess, well I really really like you Tamaki,” Kirishima finally confessed, which was easier than he thought it would be. But no one should be afraid to confess their feelings, it wasn’t manly. “You l-like me?” Tamaki questioned, feeling Kirishima release his collar. 

Tamaki grunted softly as he navigated his feet to the floor once again. Thank God, his legs hurt from having to balance on his chair. Though even as he stood, he ducked his head. A little too embarrassed to look at Kirishima at the moment. Though if he did, he would be able to see the redhead smirking and give a confident nod. “I wouldn’t have said or kissed you if I didn’t.” Tamaki lifted his head, blinking at Kirishima. His cheeks a soft red color and there was still that look of confusion across his face. “Uh, I-I’m sorry that I didn’t n-notice ...uh before. Your f-feelings.” Tamaki stuttered, now playing with his fingers. Another nervous habit that made Kirishima smile. 

Sliding off the desk, his feet hit the floor before he approached Tamaki. Resting a sturdy hand on the others shoulder. “Hey man! It’s okay, besides it’s kind of my fault. I should have told you earlier or like maybe even when I started to notice my feelings for you.” Kirishima smiled, though he kept his hand on Tamaki’s shoulder. Almost like he was too afraid to let go and have the other run away. “Mm ...” Tamaki shifted nervously on his feet before looking at Kirishima again. “S-So what now?” He questioned, watching as Kirishima smiled down at him. “How about I officially ask you out for dinner?” A silence filled the air before Tamaki gave his answer.

“Sure.” The paperwork could always wait for love. 

[losingmymindtonight]

I absolutely adore your writing! Can you please please pretty please with a mango on top write a fic where Morgan worries or is scared for Peter getting hurt or ending up like Tony?

AN: Forgive me if this is a bit of a scattered mess. I wrote it with Pride and Prejudice playing in the background, trying to distract myself from how freaking hot it is right now. I hope it’s at least a little of what you were looking for!

Little note before you continue: this is Endgame compliant, unfortunately. It’s set a good few years later, so the grief and discussions of death aren’t as graphic or as overpowering as it would be in the immediate aftermath, but those themes are still there. This fic also contains mentions of blood and injury, although that’s also not graphic.

–

F.R.I.D.A.Y. told her that Peter was in the workshop.

It was dark outside her window. Way past her bedtime, for sure, but she knew that her mom wouldn’t care. Not today. Never today.

She was still quiet while going down the stairs, though, just in case her mom was still awake. She might be. Morgan never really knew how she might act on today, but she knew it probably wouldn’t be normal.

Her dad’s workshop wasn’t locked, but she wasn’t really allowed inside. Well, she was, just not usually alone. Someone had to be with her because there was dangerous stuff in there. Her Dad’s old suits, inventions he’d been working on when he died, things that he’d built years and years before. She was pretty sure it would be fine for her to go in now, though, because Peter was there. She pushed open the door and saw him right away, leaning over her dad’s old workbench.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, hovering awkwardly in the entrance.

Peter jolted, swinging to stare at her. He was in his Spider-Man suit, but it was torn and singed in multiple places. Like he’d been in a fight. Like he’d been in a fight and lost.

He winced, hand pressed up against his side. Even in the dark, she could see blood dripping down his gloves.

“Morgan?” He looked like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, shuffling nervously as he avoided her eyes. “What’re you doing in here?”

She flicked the light on, then crossed her arms, angry because she was scared. Because Peter always did this, always acted like she was a baby and he had to protect her. “I asked you first.”

“Don’t be a brat,” he said, but not unkindly. He was never unkind to her, even though sometimes she kinda wished that he would be. “Go to bed. Your mom’ll be mad if she finds you down here this late.”

“She’ll be mad if you bleed on Dad’s stuff, too.”

Peter flinched at the reference. Everyone did that. They always had. Sometimes she felt a little bad, because she had never shouldered Dad’s memory as painfully as the rest of her family. People talked about him and she got sad, yeah, but not sad like Mom and Peter did. She hadn’t really known him long enough.

“I’m not bleeding on Dad’s stuff.”

“You’re bleeding on the floor.”

He quirked up an eyebrow, smirking a little while he did it. It was the look he always used when he wanted to annoy her, but it always made Mom laugh, so she didn’t know how she felt about it.

“But not on Dad’s stuff.”

“You’re stupid,” she snapped, then went to grab the first-aid kit that was still hanging by the door. “You’re really really really stupid.”

“Y’know, I didn’t actually come here to get berated by a ten-year-old.”

Now she glared, throwing the kit on the worktable with a loud smack. “What’s ‘berated’ mean?”

Peter popped the kit open with the hand that wasn’t covered with blood, absentmindedly flicking through the contents. “It means what you’re doing right now. And it’ll be what your mom does when she finds you awake, too.”

“She won’t find me.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.’ll tell her soon.”

“She won’t bother her today.”

Peter’s face looked sad, all of a sudden, and Morgan felt a little bad about that. She kept forgetting that today was a hurting day. It was easier for her to pretend that it wasn’t.

“Yeah,” Peter muttered, twisting away from her and shoving a wad of gauze against his stomach. “Yeah, I guess she probably won’t.”

She knew that she was probably supposed to be quiet now. Even more, she guessed that Peter probably wanted her to leave. He didn’t like it when she saw him hurt, but it still happened a lot. Mom and Uncle Rhodey said it was because being a superhero was dangerous, and that always made her laugh because she knew that. She didn’t have a dad because being a superhero was dangerous.

“Is that why you’re bleeding? ‘Cause today is today?” She blurted, and Peter turned to watch her again.

“I’m bleeding because I got cut,” he said after a while, but he was talking all slow, like he was thinking everything through too much. Mom did that sometimes, usually when Morgan asked questions about Dad, but sometimes when she asked about other things, too.

“But why’d you get cut?”

Peter snorted. “Because people on meth are crazy.”

“What’s meth?”

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” Peter said, but he was smiling so she couldn’t really be mad at him. “I’m fine, Morgan. I heal quick.”

“Yeah, but you still got hurt in the first place.” She pointed at Dad’s workbench, accusing. “Was it because of today?”

“I already told you that it wasn’t.”

“No you didn’t. You just said it was because of something else, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be because of today, too.”

Peter smiled at her, but it wasn’t his happy smile, like the one he’d given her when he’d stayed over during a snowstorm last winter and she’d woken him up at sunrise so they could build a snowman together. No, this one was more like the one he’d given her when she’d been much smaller, and made him a card in class for Father’s Day because everyone had to make one and she didn’t have a dad to make hers for. She hadn’t understood why he’d looked so sad at the time, but she did now. He was always sad when he was thinking about Dad.

“You’re a lot like your father, sometimes,” he said, and there was the sadness, dripping down all over his face. “I’m not always sure that it’s a good thing.”

“Mom says that about you a lot,” she shot back.

“Yeah, I know.”

Peter hissed as he peeled the gauze away from his side, peering down at it with a badly concealed wince, and Morgan found herself scared-angry all over again.

“You’re gonna get really hurt one day,” she said quietly. She pulled anxiously on her pajama shirt while she spoke, surprised by how quickly she felt tears prick at her eyes.

Peter seemed to notice the change. He pressed the gauze back down over the cut, reaching out for her with his other hand. She stepped out of his reach, knowing it was petty and not really caring.

“Morgan…”

“I didn’t know really know Dad,” she whispered. It looked like Peter was going to butt in, but she kept talking before he could. “You and Mom tell me stories about him, and I learn about him in class, but I didn’t know him. I only remember him a little.”

Even though Peter still had blood on his hands, it looked like what Morgan had said was wounding him more than whatever injuries he was hiding underneath his suit. He stared back at her with wide eyes, fingers twitching where he was grasping both his side and Dad’s worktable. “I know, Morgan, I’m so sorry…”

“Shut up. I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to stop being stupid.” She took a breath, clenching her fists at her side. “I’m making a point. I didn’t have Dad but I did have you. And Dad… Dad died doing the same thing that you do all the time, and I know that you did a dangerous thing tonight because today is six years since he died and that’s stupid. It’s just… It’s so stupid.”

“Morgan, I-”

“I don’t want you to die,” she whispered, but it cut Peter’s voice off like she’d hit him. “You… You can’t. Not like Dad did. I won’t let you.”

Peter’s eyes were shining, and she felt a little bad. In fact, she wasn’t really angry at all anymore. She was just sad, and scared, and she missed her dad, and she hated it when she missed her dad because it was like missing the idea of a thing rather than a real thing, and she just wished she had a real thing to miss. Like Mom or Peter or Uncle Rhodey did.

“Morgan, come here,” Peter murmured, tossing the gauze onto the table and holding out his arms in a silent invitation.

She didn’t hesitate. She jumped forward, slinging her arms around his neck. Peter always seemed so tall to her, so strong and steadfast. 

She hated the material of the Spider-Man suit, it was all slippery and smelled a little like rubber, but she ignored it because it was still Peter underneath. Nothing else really mattered besides that.

“I won’t die like Dad did, Morgan,” Peter said into her ear, voice hitching on Dad, like it did a lot when they talked about him. “I promise.”

“Good,” she whispered back, throat tight and aching, “cause I’ll be really mad if you do.”

“Well,” Peter huffed a laugh against the crown of her head, “we can’t have that.”

“Yeah, cause then Dad’ll have to come back and kill you.”

“He would,” he said, voice wet. He paused for a moment, reaching up to ruffle her hair but not pulling away. “I’m getting blood all over your shirt.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled, tucking her face into his chest. It was a place she could always remember being safe, being loved. She didn’t miss the idea of her dad when Peter was there. She didn’t have to. “I’ll just make you buy me a new one.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, still chuckling and still crying, because Morgan guessed that people learned to live in contradictions when they loved someone that was dead, “I bet you will.”