#avengers of the wastelands

[comicsiswild]

Avengers Of The Wastelands (2020) #2

#avengers #avengers of the wastelands #dr doom #victor von doom #marvel #marvel comics

[towritecomicsonherarms]

Avengers of the Wasteland #5

#avengers of the wasteland #old man logan #doctor doom #victor von doom #comics #marvel

[aparticularbandit]

I have read so much Ms. Marvel already this year wow.

I've read so much comics in the past two weeks WOW.

#musings #bandit #the first five ms. marvel graphic novels #champions (2016) 1-6 #champions (2018) 1 & 2 #scarlet witch (2015) 1-3 #(i think only 2&3 in the past two weeks though) #gotham city sirens vol. 2 #childrens crusade #SO MANY COMICS #and then i have champions (2019) vol. 2 and avengers of the wastelands #(for my girl viv) #and runaways the complete collection vol. 1&2 #and ms. marvel vols 6-8 #which i haven't read YET #but i HAVE THEM #(also the rest of wayne family adventures vol. 2) #SO MANY COMICS Y'ALL

[nickfuryagentofsword]

Avengers of the Wastelands 4 (2020) by Ed Brisson & Jonas Scharf

Wastelands

#Wastelands #Avengers #Dr Doom #Green Goblin #Ed Brisson #Jonas Scharf

[clintismoved]

tag drops -> verse edition.

VERSE -> CRISISPIDER -> Hey look who got an all new lease on life still same old loser Hawkeye entangled in Spiderman's web ( @crisispider )

VERSE -> BIITCHCAKES -> How many more chances can I have to make it right with my lady ( @biitchcakes )

VERSE -> 616 -> All he ever need was to trust his own wings

VERSE -> STAR TREK -> Space the final frontier these are the voyages of Clint Barton boldly going to get my life on track ( single ship w/ @crisispider )

VERSE -> WASTELANDS -> You can run on for a long time sooner of later god'll cut you down

VERSE -> OLD MAN -> You'd ask an old avenger if he'd ever break the law? Kids these days! ( @crisispider )

VERSE -> LAST OF US -> Had to fight like hell until fighting like hell made me one hell of a fighter

VERSE -> MASS EFFECT -> A spectre smoke and dust and shadow nothing substantial until I chose to be ( @crisispider )

VERSE -> DRAGON AGE -> I will wear the title oathbreaker with pride for no more false demons shall be slain (@crisispider)

VERSE -> PIRATE -> Damned be the man who bows for a king but not me for my heart is free and my soul sails the sea

#VERSE -> CRISISPIDER -> Hey look who got an all new lease on life still same old loser Hawkeye entangled in Spiderman's web #VERSE -> 616 -> All he ever need was to trust his own wings #[ VERSE; biitchcakes ] How many more chances can I have to make it right with my lady #[ VERSE; star trek ] Space the final frontier these are the voyages of Clint Barton boldly going to get my life on track #[ VERSE; wastelands ]You can run on for a long time sooner of later god'll cut you down #[ VERSE; old man ] You'd ask an old avenger if he'd ever break the law? Kids these days! #[ VERSE; mass effect ] A spectre smoke and dust and shadow nothing substantial until I chose to be #[ VERSE; LAST OF US ] Had to fight like hell until fighting like hell made me one hell of a fighter #[ VERSE; DRAGON AGE ] I will wear the title oathbreaker with pride for no more false demons shall be slain #[ VERSE; PIRATE ] Damned be the man who bows for a king but not me for my heart is free and my soul sails the sea

[virginiaoflykos]

What to read after Light Bringer? (Series similar to Red Rising)

August 2023 update!

Red Rising is my favorite series of all time, and since I first read it, I have sought series and books similar in both spirit and execution. Some of these recs are books I haven’t read personally, but have often come up in discussions with other users!

1. The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson

Status: ongoing, expected 10 books in total, 4/10 out at the moment

Book 1: The Way of Kings. The Way of Kings takes place on the world of Roshar, where war is constantly being waged on the Shattered Plains, and the Highprinces of Alethkar fight to avenge a king that died many moons ago.

2. The Craft Sequence by Max Gladstone

Status: finished, 6/6 books out.

Book 1 (in publication order): Three Parts Dead. Comprised of 6 standalone books set in the same universe, the Craft Sequence tells the tales of the city of Alt Coulumb. The city came out of the God Wars with one of its gods intact, Kos the Everburning. In return for the worship of his people, Kos provides heat and steam power to the citizens of Alt Coulumb; he is also the hub of a vast network of power relationships with other gods and god-like beings across the planet. Oh, and he has just died. If he isn’t revived in some form by the turn of the new moon, the city will descend into chaos and the finances of the globe will take a severe hit.

3. Hierarchy by James Islington

Status: ongoing, 1/3 planned books out

Book 1: The Will of the many. The Will of the Many tells the story of Vis, a young orphan who is adopted by one of the sociopolitical elites of the Hierarchy. Vis is tasked with entering a prestigious magical academy with one goal – ascend the ranks, figure out what the other major branches of the government are doing, and report back. However, that isn’t quite as easy as Vis or anyone else thought it was going to be…

4. Suneater by Christopher Ruocchio

Status: ongoing, 5/7 books out

Book 1: Empire of Silence. Hadrian is a man doomed to universal infamy after ordering the destruction of a sun to commit an unforgivable act of genocide. Told as a chronicle written by an older Hadrian, Empire of Silence details his earlier adventures and serves as an introduction to the characters and the setting.

5. Dune by Frank Herbert

Status: completed, 6/6 books out

Book 1: Dune. Set in the distant future amidst a feudal interstellar society in which various noble houses control planetary fiefs. It tells the story of young Paul Atreides, whose family accepts the stewardship of the planet Arrakis. While the planet is an inhospitable and sparsely populated desert wasteland, it is the only source of melange, or "spice", a drug that extends life and enhances mental abilities.

6. The Expanse by James S A Corey

Status: completed, 9/9 books out

Book 1: Leviathan wakes. Set hundreds of years in the future, after mankind has colonized the solar system. A hardened detective and a rogue ship's captain come together for what starts as a missing young woman and evolves into a race across the solar system to expose the greatest conspiracy in human history.

7. The First Law by Joe Abercrombie

Status: completed. 3 books in the original trilogy + 3 standalone books + 3 books in the newest trilogy

Book 1: The Blade Itself. The story follows the fortunes and misfortunes of bad people who do the right thing, good people who do the wrong thing, stupid people who do the stupid thing and, well, pretty much any combination of the above. Survival is no mean feat, and at the end of the day, dumb luck might be more of an asset than any amount of planning, skill, or noble intention.

8. Cradle by Will Wight

Status: completed, 12/12 books out

Book 1: Unsouled. Lindon is Unsouled, forbidden to learn the sacred arts of his clan. When faced with a looming fate he cannot ignore, he must rise beyond anything he's ever known...and forge his own Path

9. Hyperion Cantos by Dan Simmons (one PB’s favorites)

Status: completed, 4/4 books out

Book 1: Hyperion. The story weaves the interlocking tales of a diverse group of travelers sent on a pilgrimage to the Time Tombs on Hyperion. The travelers have been sent by the Church of the Final Atonement, alternately known as the Shrike Church, and the Hegemony (the government of the human star systems) to make a request of the Shrike. As they progress in their journey, each of the pilgrims tells their tale.

#red rising #golden son #morning star #pierce brown #dark age #iron gold #light bringer #what to read #book rec #book recommendation #books #stormlight archive #hyperion cantos #craft sequence #the expanse #hierarchy #the will of the many #first law #suneater #sun eater #dune #cradle series

[ganymedesclock]

I don't believe institutional misandry is real but I do believe there is an aspect of white, cis-hetero-amato-normative patriarchy that requires male suffering.

At the core of misogyny and queerphobia is the revelation these are tools to police masculinity. This entire system is contingent on that men are afraid they are doing it wrong. The Other is used to threaten, this could be you if you step out of line. And the tightrope that it herds its hypothetical perfectly normal men onto burns the feet.

A Real Man should want a wife and want to have sex with that wife to produce biological offspring. But he oughtn't be a father. Change a diaper? Good heavens, you're emasculated. The most acceptable parental emotion a man is allowed to have, encouraged to look up to, is a kind of territorial rage, the superhero avenging his dead tragic girlfriend, the gun-toting furious dad clutching his little helpless baby girl who's all he has left.

A Real Man should be young-looking, sexually potent, and studly, but he mayn't under any circumstances be caught committing artifice or seduction. Cleanliness or fastidiousness becomes suspect. But of course every fictional male model we're given to look up to, most of them are played by men dieted and styled and carefully dressed and painted and polished with extravagant artifice. But we are led to believe, this is just a Real Man. He's So Manly he is cashing an exception with his bank account of testosterone.

A Real Man is a starving, isolated animal. A Real Man becomes desperate on the woman he is told is his only possible outlet for softness, vulnerability, compassion and understanding, which no human being can live without and which women are not inherently more blessed with any of those traits besides men.

Meanwhile, the two-year-old boys that I watch scamper and play at my workplace seem a fascinating form of animal. If they comprehend themselves as boys at all, it is without this anxiety of competition. They do not see themselves as defined by absence to flinch from anything that's too feminine. They seize princess dresses from the dress-up station, excited by bright fabrics and plastic jewels. They quarrel for teacher attention when they see their long-haired classmates being given braids or ponytails, me too me too me too!

At this point, they are motivated not by a fear of being an inadequate man but by a love for being exactly what they are right now. Whatever experience appeals to them, they want it. As I watch these boys age, I watch many of them- as early as age three- begin to squirm with anxiety. They have spoken to girls too much. Only boys are ordinary, uncomplicated friends. In a few years, will they dread the time they now spend playing house?

Misogyny and queerphobia make a wasteland of masculinity for everyone, in the process of recruiting soldiers for the crusades against the "unmanly". Those campaigns would dry up in the face of meaningful, healthy masculinity that isn't built on a terror of inadequacy and a territorial selfishness not reflected by the world we live in. None of these traits are inherent to men. We can do better. We can escape this. We will live fuller, happier lives without it.

#masculinity is not synonymous with violence #no matter how much bigots howl and cry that it is #long post

[bbyfacedx]

thinking about the first crota fireteam and how crucial eris was to recruitment. the mission in itself was to avenge guardians lost to crota but there was a specific tint of focus toward avenging wei ning, something eris didn’t have much of a personal stake in aside from being a friend of her’s and eriana’s. and yet, she went on to recruit people who were obviously incredibly important to her; sai who seems to trust her with complete faith, vell who saved her life once and is willing to do it again, omar who only agreed to go because eris supports the cause, toland who she’d probably looked up to even in his exile, who has genuine faith in the mission despite everything.

and then, they die one by one and eris is entirely helpless to stop it. maybe it would be less bittersweet if they’d accomplished anything close to their original goal, if eris could come out of the hellmouth knowing her team’s deaths weren’t in vain. but they don’t, and they are, and everything was all in vain from the very beginning.

it’s interesting how eris emulates them, keeps them alive through herself. like sai, she trusts herself to carry out this insane hive ascension ritual with little concern for the personal risk. like vell, she adventures out into a hostile frozen wasteland and fights to protect others no matter the cost, even those she barely knows. like omar, she keeps talismans and charms and gives them to others who need reassurance, a reminder she’s in their corner. like toland, she’s the hive expert who still seeks to teach and mentor despite her more self-imposed solitude.

and of course, like eriana, her passionate love and craving for vengeance are constantly at war with one another. her sorrow, he guilt, her anguish over what she’s lost, competing with her desire to help, to mend, to protect what little she has left, to save a world she still somehow has faith in. the difference between them is that eris’ love will always win. she will not be led blindly into any pit again, not by her thirst for revenge, not by her despair, not by the darkness, not by the deep.

#ann.txt #eris morn #destiny 2 #toland the shattered #omar agah #sai mota #eriana 12 #vell tarlowe #ann writing #first crota fireteam

[papakhan]

thinking a lot about the cut fo1 random encounter with a dying "lone khan raider" who you would have been able to meet if you let the mutants destroy shady sands (he says it was the nightkin)

The idea that nightkin “cloakthemselves in night” rather than turn invisable and can also kind of hypnonise you? create illusions? Also this dying raider saying he wants to avenge the dead of the village he and his friends raid is making me feel a certain way

“you have my word as a Khan” :’‘(

I really like this as a way old Khans said goodbye to eachother, kinda like how Aradesh says “may the water you find not shine at you in the dark.” I think old wasteland proverbs are super slept on.

I also like how Papa Khan 120 years later still says “farewell brother” to you if youre idolised by the Khans

#txt #fo1 #khans #Lone Khan raider

[comicsiswild]

Avengers Of The Wastelands (2020) #3

#avengers #avengers of the wastelands #dr doom #victor von doom #doc ock #otto octavius #marvel #marvel comics

[towritecomicsonherarms]

Avengers of the Wasteland #3

#avengers of the wasteland #shocker #MODOK #enchantress #wild child #green goblin #absorbing man #comics #marvel #old man logan

[railingsofsorrow]

RAILINGSOFSORROW'S FIC RECS (0.2)

2nd part of the recommendation list from my fav fics! (i had to split in two because tumblr was being a nightmare) have it in mind that they can either be on tumblr or ao3.

the (+) means it has a smut masterlists: [0.1] [0.2]

↯

━━ OBX 

↬ little village by @thegreatestofheck (jj x routhledge!oc) 

best thing that's ever happened to me.

↬ whipped by @ptersparkers (jj x reader) 

↬ wake by @obxsummer (jj x reader) 

↬ aftermath by @maybaenk (jj x reader) 

↬ once a cheater... by @sl-ut (s.cameron x fem!kook!reader; t.thornton x platonic!reader) 

↬ lucky by @↑ (k.carrera x f!reader) 

↬ two of the same by @jjmaybud (k.carrera x f!reader) 

i, too, want to get married with kiara carrera.

↬ skin by @↑ (p.heyward x reader) 

↬ kie loves you... but you're not hers by @infictionalwonderland (k.carrera x f!reader; jj x f!reader)  

↬ angels like you by @cryonme (p.heyward x reader) 

↬ the 7 times he realises he loves you by @fandomtravels (I can't tag this acc :/ it's glitching) (r.cameron x reader) 

彡 

━━ MCU 

↬ one heart by @ichorai (tasm!single parent!p.parker x single parent! x reader) (major angst!) 

ok so I stumbled upon this while I was in class and I was bored so I thought let's give it a go until I get to go home. terrible idea because I was holding my cries, can you believe it? this fic stole my heart and it's so well-written, I don't think there's anything like it, it talks about loss and grieving in the most realistic way possible, I almost felt inserted into the story. plz go read it it will be so worth it.

↬ on thin ice by @leahsficemporium (peter parker x reader)

learning how to skate with peter <3

↬ like slow-slipping redemption by artist_artists (ao3) (tasm!p.parker × male mj) 

I don't understand how this one doesn't have more recognition. I was craving for a bi!peter fic and I found it's the best piece of work I've read, it played with my emotions and left me of the edge of my seat. it's set on a post-no way home universe and it features tasm!peter x male mj. it's a happy ending!!! plus it's not long, only 3 chapters.

↬ getting old by @kiss-inthekitchen (husband!tasm!p.parker x reader)  

↬ peter parker can't flirt by @curseofaphrodite (tasm!p.parker x marauder!reader)

it's a crossover btw marauders era + the amazing spiderman universe.

彡

━━ TVD/T.O 

↬ apotheosis by atriums (klaus mikaelson x reader) 

it's finished and it has a sequel called alkaline.

↬ familia supra omnia by IAMiniquity (poly!mikaelsons x oc) (currently being updated) 

the best thing I've read in the originals universe, spent less than month reading it and I keep craving for more.

↬ treading on thin ice by @fitzs-trained-monkey (kol mikaelson x reader)

they write the best kol fics istg.  

↬ wasteland, baby! by trustsalvatore (kol mikaelson x oc) 

incomplete since 2020 :(((

彡

↬ coming home by @acourtofwhatthefuck (azriel x reader) (series)

━━ MISC 

↬ troublemaker by @itsapeterthing (druig x avenger!reader)  

I will tell you one thing: I wasn't into a court of thorns and roses until I stumbled upon this one. yk when the writing grips you and chains you in a way that you can't leave? that's what happened to me. I was so addicted I read this whole series in three days at most. then I proceeded to read all of their work, you should do the same, you won't regret it it's so good. 

↬ resident healer by @15-dogs (newt scamander x reader)  

↬ no one knows by @pillow-titties (billy russo x reader) +

↬ no one knows p.2 by @↑ + 

↬ by your side by @alaynes-writings (paul atreides x reader)  

↬ stormy nights by @marvelmusing (aleksander mozorova x reader)  

#obx fic recs #outer banks fic recs #peter parker fic recs #tasm!peter fic #tvd fic recs #the originals fic recs #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #kol mikaelson fanfiction #acotar fic recs #newt scamander fic rec #billy russo fic rec #paul atreides fic rec #aleksander mozorova fic rec

[ichorai]

to noise making ; steve rogers.

track six of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; steve rogers x mutant!gn!reader

synopsis ; pure silence never sat well with steve. it reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. so when he heard your loose, disjointed hums coming from the compound’s kitchen, he came seeking your voice out more and more.

words ; 4.5k

themes ; fluff, mild angst

warnings / includes ; mild cursing, implications of depression/ptsd but not explicit, descriptions of injury/blood, a mention of a toxic ex, one mention of biological warfare, reader is a mutant with the ability to manipulate matter, reader calls steve 'old man' and he calls them 'sweetheart' once, reader and tony are best friendos, this fic is basically a huge FUCK YOU to steve's ending in endgame, a kiss !! that tony rudely interrupts, mildly an avengers tower-reminiscent fic bcs they're my found family okay </3

main masterlist. set in the same universe as: blue jeans.

Silence accompanied Steve everywhere he went. 

It followed him through his morning—when he rose so early even the birds hadn’t started their day yet. When he went out for a quick jog, his shoes nearly mute against the sidewalk’s smooth concrete. When he showered with frigidly cold water right after, he stared wordlessly at the ground as the iridescent soap suds ran down his skin into the drain. 

It followed him through his afternoon—when he filled out paperwork for the latest recon mission. When he played a quiet game of Uno with Bucky over the kitchen counter during lunch. When he went outside, where the curious stares of strangers seemed to grow exponentially with each ticking second, and phone cameras were shoved into his face not two yards out the door. 

It followed him through the night—when he went on a blind date set up by Natasha, the dinner largely consisted of uncomfortable pauses, mostly because they really had nothing in common, and she’d also mentioned she wasn’t all that into blondes. When he later took his motorcycle out for a drive, stopping by an empty bridge to stare down at the river rushing by. When he slid into bed with naught a sound, digging his fist into his eyes until he hallucinated bright colors behind his eyelids. 

Pure silence never sat well with Steve. It reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. All the time that had slipped right between his fingers like fine grains of sand.

That morning was as ordinary as ever. He brushed his teeth. Ran a comb through his flaxen hair. Changed into his jogging clothes. Tied his shoes. And he slipped out of the compound, off for his daily run. 

When he came back, he was surprised to see Tony striding out of the kitchen—he wasn’t usually up this early. 

“Dishwasher’s broken,” the brunette told him, sipping a large mug of dark coffee as he stroked his stubble with his other hand. “Remind me to get that fixed, will you?”

Steve blinked, then nodded.

Satisfied, Tony bid him adieu with no more than a limp wave as he shuffled past him, off to the compounds laboratory. 

The rest of the day slid by as quiet as ever—paperwork, filing, having lunch with Natasha at a secluded Italian cafe, mission debrief with Sam, more paperwork, listening to Bucky complain about his cat scratching up his favorite henley, and finally, deciding he was hungry enough to make dinner. 

He rose out of his chair, stretching with a soft groan as his bones popped with the movement. Then, Steve made his way out of his room, making a bee-line for the kitchen. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the compound’s living room empty—Sam had left for Louisiana to visit his sister, Natasha was off on an impromptu mission with Clint, Tony was doing god knows what in his lab, and Bucky was busy reprimanding Alpine for destroying his most prized article of clothing.

With everybody gone, it should’ve been quiet. 

But it wasn’t.

Much to Steve’s mild surprise and curiosity, he could hear somebody in the kitchen. 

Who could it be? Bruce? No—Bruce had flown off to Switzerland for some sort of fancy science convention. Thor? It was possible, but probably not—the Norse god would’ve barged into his room asking how to use the microwave for the millionth time by now. 

Steve heard the clatter of pots. The sound of boiling liquid. A displeased noise, quietly followed by a frantic mutter, “Oh, too much, too much!” He heard water trickling down the drain.

Then, the humming started. It was loose and disjointed, following the tune of a song for a couple seconds at a time before taking a lengthy pause, only to pick up an entirely new melody a minute later.

It took him a moment to realize that lingering in the dark hallway whilst listening intently to someone in the kitchen was rather creepy, so Steve reared himself out of his thoughts and stepped into the light. 

Of course it was you. You were more or less new to the compound—a long-time, trusted friend of Tony’s from all the way back when he first built his Iron Man suit. You were recently brought onto the team due to your mutant abilities, uncanny intelligence, and Tony’s undeniable fondness for you. Besides that, Steve knew very little about you: he knew you were around the same age as him (at least the same age as when he was frozen), he knew you were a genius physicist, he knew you had the power to manipulate matter around you (which made you an excellent asset to the team), and he recalled Scott once mentioning that you were allergic to styrofoam. 

Steve assumed that the last one had been a joke. 

“Oh!” Your startled voice echoed across the kitchen at the sight of him. “Oh, it’s just you.”

An eyebrow raised closer to his hairline. “Just me? Who did you think it was?”

You appeared embarrassed for a moment, waving a spatula in the air. “Well, I may or may not have stolen Tony’s top secret models for his next version of the suit—just because I was curious how much he was going to spend on it, you know? I figured he’d come storming in accusing me of theft.”

A smile graced Steve’s lips. “Well, knowing Tony, I don’t think he’ll notice anytime soon. He hasn’t left the lab in hours.”

You shook your head fondly with a part hum, part scoff, before turning back to the stove, mixing the large pot full of red sauce. The air was saturated with the scent of simmering tomatoes and aromatic herbs—basil and oregano, Steve mused, were probably two of his most favorite things since coming out of the ice. They certainly didn’t have flavors like those back in the forties. Everything was far too bland and excessively moist back then. 

“I’m making vegan spaghetti,” you said, snapping him out of his mouth-watering daze. “I’d be happy to fix a plate for you.”

A polite protest was on the tip of his tongue—Steve was planning on quickly microwaving a frozen pizza before heading off to do some more work. Just as he began to voice this, his stomach rumbled loudly in betrayal, and a grimace etched over his mouth. A wave of heat seeped through his skin, tinting his face a subtle shade of scarlet. 

Much to his relief, you merely grinned brightly, smothering a laugh by biting down on your bottom lip in amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you quipped, ladleing spoonfuls of sauce into two bowls of steaming spaghetti noodles. “Take a seat.”

Complying, Steve gingerly sat at the kitchen table, resting his hand atop the smooth glass. “Can I ask you something?”

A smile danced across your mouth. “I believe you just did, Cap.” You chuckled mildly before gesturing for him to carry on.

“If you’ve got powers, why are you…”

“Cooking? I guess I just like to do things organically sometimes,” you replied easily, sprinkling herbs on top of the spaghetti before bringing the steaming bowls towards the table. “It’s cathartic.”

Steve thought to all the times he broke the sandbags in the gym—the satisfying thud of completion. He supposed he understood what you meant.

The dish in front of him was wafting with a fragrance that made his stomach twist painfully with hunger. 

“Dig in,” you said, gesturing to his serving as you started twirling the noodles around with a fork. “And to elaborate on your question, I’ve made food using my powers before—but it just tastes different. Like it isn’t the same if I didn’t measure out the ingredients, waited for the water to boil, or chopped up the veggies. It feels almost as if I’m cheating, you know?”

Steve tilted his head in thought. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” he said with a small smile, before forking some spaghetti into his mouth. “How’d you find out about your powers?”

The light-hearted atmosphere about you seemed to thin away at his question. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as you considered his question for a moment before responding. “It was an accident. A bad one. My ex… he was a real dick—excuse my language—and this one time one of our fights got out of hand. He started raising his palm like he was going to hit me. He wasn’t going to, by the way, he was just reaching for his phone behind me. But I panicked—and all of a sudden a shard of glass materialized right through his hand.”

Steve’s brows rose. He shoveled more spaghetti into his mouth.

“There was blood dripping all over the floor. We were both silent at first. Then, he started screaming. Luckily, we had a first aid kit in our bathroom. I bound his palm and drove him to the hospital—he was fine. No permanent damage.”

You sipped on some water, swallowing heavily.

“Are you guys still…?” 

“Oh, definitely not.” You chuckled bitterly. “He never wanted to speak to me ever again. Called me a freak. A mutant.”

It was brief, but Steve could see the insecurity meld across your features, shattering through your otherwise bubbly persona. 

“Well, he was an idiot. It was an accident, right? Accidents happen,” Steve quietly put forth. “And for what it’s worth, I think your powers are extraordinary. I mean, you can conjure up practically anything you want! That’s just… incredible.”

Warmth stained your insides golden as you pushed away a smile. “Thanks, Steve. Your powers aren’t too bad either—fast healing, enhanced strength. You’re quite the package.”

A generous smattering of crimson spread over his cheekbones. “Well, I’d have to thank Doctor Erskine for that. He was the one that invented the super serum—and chose for me to be the test subject. Because he believed in me.” There was a distant, reminiscent sadness to his eyes. You knew of Erskine, he was plastered across practically every American history textbook. 

“I’m sorry he died so soon,” you mumbled. “He seemed like a great man.”

“He was,” Steve said, nodding. He regarded you for a moment, briefly wondering just why it was so easy to talk to you when the two of you had barely spoken before this. The blonde across from you cleared his throat. “Thinking about him always gets me strangely nostalgic. I dream about the forties sometimes… my terrible childhood, my creaky apartment, my first love, … life before the war—before all of this. Sometimes I wonder—if I was given the chance to go back, would I?”

Your fork stopped halfway to your face. “Would you?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, rather shamefully. “I don’t think I would. I mean, I’ve got my family here. Bucky, Sam, Natasha—they mean the world to me. I think I just feel… guilty about it all? Like when you mentioned using magic sometimes feels like your cheating at something. I feel like I cheated my own death. It feels unfair. When I look at Bucky—I feel like I betrayed him.”

“Oh, Steve.” You were shaking your head, reaching across the table to gently grasp one of his hands. Your palm was warm atop his frigid one. “I know how that feels—like you don’t deserve a place in the world because you’re different. But I promise it gets better. None of that was your fault. You’ll move on, with time. Plus, you’ve got a great support system here. I know we haven’t been the closest of friends but I’m certainly willing to lend an ear whenever you want me to.”

It mildly surprised him when he felt disappointment unfurl within his chest when you retracted your touch.

“That…” Steve released a small sigh, relaxing his muscles that he didn’t even realize were tense. “That means a lot, Y/N. Thanks. I haven’t really told anybody this because I thought it’d just… go away eventually. I don’t like the quiet. I hate it, in fact. The silence always reminds me of all the time I spent in the ice—how I cheated death. It leaves me with my own thoughts and makes me realize just how… unsatisfied I am. I’m not happy with myself when everything around me is quiet.”

He swallowed down another twirl of spaghetti, now cold and thick in his throat.

A part of him was afraid he’d scare you away with this confession. After all, it was a lot to dump on the first conversation with someone he had a lot of respect for.

Instead of finishing the rest of your spaghetti as quickly as you could and running away from him like Steve partially expected you’d do, you merely smiled at him, a newfound understanding reflected in your eyes. “Then I’ll make sure never to be quiet around you,” you said, genuine tenderness woven between each word.

Steve’s stomach lurched at that.

The rest of the dinner went by filled with stories of how you mastered your powers, stories of Steve finding out Bucky was still alive after all these years, stories of how you met Tony long, long ago.

It was safe to say, silence was nowhere near the two of you that night. 

You were humming again. Steve could hear you from down the hall. It’d been a couple of weeks since that first dinner with you—with dozens more sprinkled in between. The two of you were practically attached by the hip after that. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He wandered into the kitchen with his hands behind his back, coming beside you at the sink, where you were washing the dishes (which reminded him that he forgot to remind Tony to fix the dishwasher). 

“Can I help?” he asked, unclasping his hands and extending one towards you.

Without breaking off your humming, you handed him a damp plate whilst gesturing to a rag for him to use to dry. Steve caught sight of your bright grin from his peripheral vision. He ducked his head bashfully, pulse kicking up a notch. Your hip bumped into his, and the two of you quietly chuckled. 

No words were exchanged between the two of you then, the only thing filling the silence between you was your disjointed hums to songs that Steve didn’t know.

“What song are you humming?” The scratching of Steve’s pencil against paper momentarily stopped in the middle of drawing a sketch of a bowl of fruits on the coffee table in front of him as he tentatively asked the question. 

You looked away from your book propped up on your legs, which were carelessly thrown over Steve’s on the compound’s couch. His free hand was splayed largely on your knee—but you pretended not to notice.

“Huh?” you asked, having not heard his question properly, preoccupied with the story you were reading.

“You’re always humming the same song,” Steve said. “Well, parts of that song.”

“Oh!” Placing the book down, you shifted around so you could reach for your phone in your pocket. “It’s this sixties song called Summer Wine by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. One of my all time favorites.” 

You pressed the play button on your phone screen and Steve listened along, enjoying the softness of Nancy’s voice in stark contrast to the slow rasp of Lee’s. He bobbed his head to the song off-beat, but you found it endearing all the same.

“Yeah, that’s it, old man,” you teased, elbowing him in the side and mimicking his movements. Your smile, so wide it seemed to illuminate the entire room, made Steve giddy with excitement. “It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

Steve let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I was so set on forties music being the best of the best for the longest time—I think you might just be able to change my mind. Don’t tell Bucky I said that, though—he’d skin me alive.”

A genuine gasp fell from your lungs as you lurched forward, grabbing at his hands and leaning in so close he could see his reflections in your enlivened irises. He could smell your perfume, a soft wafting of vanilla and lavender that made his head spin. “Really? Because I have so many more songs I could recommend to you—tell you what, I’ll make you a playlist tonight. Finally introduce you to the world of modern music.” You relinquished your hold on him, moving back with a grand beam. “That might be the nicest compliment anybody’s ever given me, Stevie.”

Steve couldn’t help but feel like you were overexaggerating just to make him happy, but you seemed happy to do so, and how could he ever interfere with that? 

“I don’t know, though,” Steve started, his tone teasing. “Forties music is gonna be really hard to top.”

“It’ll be my mission to find something for you, then,” you said, determined. With that, you picked your book back up and began reading again, humming softly once more. Steve took that as his cue to continue drawing. 

He spared you a glance every once in a while, observing the way the sunlight from the window cast a dewy, honey-like luminescence over your features. The way the sloping curvatures of the shadows on your face enhanced your relaxed state. The way your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip as your pupils flitted to and fro from the book’s pages. He wanted to ask if he could draw you, but the words lodged in his throat, like he had swallowed a large stone.

So he stayed quiet, listening to you hum a song that Steve now knew.

“Steve.”

Natasha crossed her arms.

“Steve.”

She sighed, eyes narrowing. 

“Damn it, Steve!”

Finally, the blonde startled, ripping his headphones off and whirling around in his chair to see Natasha standing a foot away from his desk. He’d been listening to the playlist you had meticulously curated for him, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet when you told him to listen to it.

The annoyance in the green of her eyes dissipated, replaced with mild amusement. “So much for super-hearing, huh?” she snarked, lacking any true bite to her words. Despite her stoic demeanor, she was really glad Steve found someone that made him happier than anybody else ever did. Even though he didn’t know it yet—Natasha saw the way he looked at you. 

Steve scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry, Nat. How can I help?”

“Y/N just got back from their mission. They’re in the infirmary.”

Immediately, he stood up, chair squeaking at the abrupt movement, eyebrows furrowing. “Infirmary? Are they hurt? What’re they doing back so early? The mission was supposed to be take an entire week, that’s what—”

“Relax, Rogers,” Natasha sternly asserted, effectively cutting him off. “Just doing a check-up—they were exposed to some radioactive material but it should be fine.” In a much softer tone, she added on, “Y/N was asking for you.”

Breath hitching in his throat, Steve nodded and a quiet thank you left his lips as he jogged out of his room. 

The few minutes of silence as he rushed to the infirmary did nothing good for his worrying. He passed by a pretty bruised-up Clint lounging across the waiting seats, pressing an ice cube to a gash on his forehead, and gestured to the double doors across from him. He knew of Steve’s budding relationship with you (because Natasha made it her personal mission to embarrass the poor guy) and could only assume that he’d come rushing here for you. The polished floors squeaked under his shoes as he came to a sudden halt, briefly saluting Clint thanks before knocking twice. Before he got a response, he slowly pushed the doors open, peeking his head in.

You were seated on the edge of the hospital bed, still in your mission’s attire, hair rumpled and a bit of dried blood on the side of your jaw, but you looked to be otherwise just fine. Doctor Cho was beside you, tapping her pen against a clipboard as she took note of your blood pressure. 

“Hey, old man. Long time no see,” you said with a toothy grin when you heard the door creak open. “You missed the funniest thing on the mission. There was this—”

Steve strode forward, and before you could finish your sentence, he knelt down and enveloped you into a tight embrace, nose pressing against the crown of your head. 

Your words were muffled into his shirt, which eventually died away when you noticed that he clearly was too emotional to listen to your amusing story of how Clint tripped on a big rock and cut his head. He smelled so good, like clean laundry and those tree-scented car fresheners. Steve barely registered Doctor Cho shifting awkwardly and excusing herself out of the room, entirely fixated by the way your arm loosely curled around his shoulders as you hugged him back.

“Whose blood is that?” he asked without pulling away from you.

“Not mine,” you assured him.

“Nat told me you were asking for me,” said the blonde, gingerly pulling away from you to meet your eyes. His hand went under your chin to tilt your head around, as if reaffirming that you were perfectly fine. “Exposed to radioactive material? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Looks like someone missed me,” you laughed at his mother henning, bringing your hand up to wrap around his, holding it close to your chest. “The wrong kind of people were trying to steal stuff that could potentially be used for biological warfare—we intercepted, but one of the cases broke and I had to use my powers to forge a new one. I was only exposed for a couple seconds, but it was enough to warrant a check up. We had to back off because they were in possession of the last case and threatened to drop it into the city’s main water supply.”

Steve’s brows knitted together as you spoke. “We gotta go stop them, then—”

“They think they have the last case,” you said, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips.

“You used your powers to make a fake,” Steve whispered in realization. “You’re a genius.”

Waving away his praise, you leaned forward, gripping him tighter. “Enough about that! Did you listen to the playlist?”

His chest rumbled as he laughed. You had just gotten back from a dangerous mission and you were asking about him. 

“I was around halfway through,” he said, grinning softly.

“Guess you’ll just have to listen to the rest with me,” you quipped, craning your neck to swiftly kiss his cheek. When you pulled back just a little, you did it ever so slowly, hovering close enough so that your noses brushed against one another. 

Heat flushed across his face. His heart palpitated painfully against his ribcage. His stormy eyes flickered down to glance at your lips, then moved up again to meet your eyes. All he saw was you.

“You can kiss me, Stevie,” you mumbled against him, giving him the green light he was waiting for. “I promise I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that. I mean, you’re a super soldier, would you even feel th—mmh!”

That spurred him to shift forward, capturing your lips with his and effectively interrupting your thoughts before he could get any more flustered, foreheads bumping against one another. After recovering from your initial shock, you tugged him closer by the lapels of his shirt, tilting your head to the side so he could fold into you ever so perfectly. It felt as if a fire was crawling around his veins, consuming him entirely. Your skin was cold against his, quelling the burning sensation dancing over his skin. 

You smiled into the mouth, laughing against his lips when he drifted his fingers up your side. “That tickles,” you murmured, pressing butterfly kisses on the corners of his lips and the tip of his nose. 

Steve couldn’t help it. He began laughing as well, muffled when you slapped his tickling hands away, kissing him harder.

The two of you stayed that way for what felt like hours—breaths turned ragged and chests heaving, when really it was only about five minutes. By the stroke of the sixth minute, Tony strode into the infirmary room uttering, “Knockity knock knock,” despite not knocking.

“Woah!” he exclaimed upon seeing the two of you in such… close proximities. “Took you two long enough. Barnes owes me twenty bucks. And, Jesus, hang a sock on the door, Rogers! I know you’re old, and not at all accustomed to the sexual customs of our generation, but I do not want to see my recently-radiated best friend swap spit with you.”

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. “Nice to see you, too, Tony. And yeah, your recently-radiated friend is just peachy, thanks for asking!”

Tony glared at you. “Please, if you weren’t ‘just peachy’ Rogers wouldn’t be shoving his tongue down your throat.” Steve looked like he wanted to object, but he cleared his throat and diverted his gaze to the floor instead. Tony barked out a laugh, rotating on his heel to head back out. “Good to see you’re okay, kid. Remember to wrap it before you tap it!”

As soon as he was gone, Steve groaned, dropping his head against your chest, flustered beyond relief. 

“Does he always have to be so crass?” he asked, wrinkling his nose with embarrassment. 

“That’s Tony for you.” You shook your head with amusement. Then, your voice a notch softer, you asked, “Hey, Stevie?”

He hummed in response, lifting his head to look at you.

“You remember when you said you weren’t sure if you’d want to go back to the forties or not?”

Steve blinked in mild surprise. “Yeah?”

Your expression betrayed your clear hesitance as you swallowed uncomfortably. “Do you think you’d go now?”

“No, sweetheart,” he whispered, bending closer so his nose brushed yours. “I’d never leave you. Not ever. I wasn’t going to leave in the first place, because I could never leave my friends and family here. But you… you make me feel not guilty for being happy. Like I deserve a life of my own—with you. And I think the quiet becomes more bearable when you’re around me. I don’t think so much of the past with you because… well, because I’m thinking of our future.”

A heartbreakingly bright smile painted your lips golden, and you shook your head fondly. It might’ve just been a trick of the infirmary’s painfully artificial lights, but he could’ve sworn he saw the glimmering film of tears briefly gloss over your eyes. “Did you just come up with that on the spot?” The two of you laughed into each other, and you pressed a gentle kiss just under his eyes. “You’re something else, Stevie, I’ll tell you that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, unable to stop smiling, before capturing your grin with his once more.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers ff #steve rogers x you

[sunbeamah]

JJK au I can't bring myself to write in full. The events of the anime are tweaked, but they happened many hundreds of years ago, and yeah! it's a little long for a drabble but pls enjoy!

-

"I understand." Yuuji said, nodding slowly. Megumi frowned. He'd expected an outburst- yelling, crying, maybe even a fist or two flying at him.

This was not how he thought his husband would react to his sacrifice at all.

"Yuuji." He demanded. "What-"

"Megumi..." Yuuji said, his dry and cracked lips twisting into the smallest smile Megumi had ever seen from him. "Can you do something for me?"

Megumi panted, glancing back out at the battlefield before them. Who knows how much longer their forces could hold Sukuna off? He needed to do it. He needed to go out there and do it now. The words were on the tip of his tongue, and his fingers twitched, prepared to form fists.

And yet, he waited. Because his husband needed something for him, and when Megumi married him he promised to be a provider for Yuuji, first and foremost.

"What is it?" He asked.

Yuuji leaned forward instead of saying anything, and Megumi met him halfway. A final kiss. Even in the end, Yuuji was always thinking about him first. He remembered his whispered words in their marriage bed- remembered them as the first meaningful things he said that he did not have to recite over and over again to get right.

'If I should die, whether in a year or in a moment, whether in battle or in this very bed-- I want kissing your lips to be the last thing I do.'

Perhaps it wouldn't be the very last thing. No- the very last thing Megumi would do in this world, would be loving Yuuji. Right after killing the King of Curses, and avenging his possessed sister, whose heart still beat, but whose life had ended the second a curse had taken her over.

The kiss was bittersweet. He was sure all the sweetness came from Yuuji, himself. So he tried to pour in his passion, his love, his life force itself into the kiss, to make up for all the bitterness he'd tainted it with.

He got it all back in full.

"Tell Kugisaki and the others, that I'm sorry." He said when he pulled away. Megumi felt something within him, akin to a cord on a biwa, pull taught. "I won't make be able to cook them their victory feast after all."

The cord snapped.

"Yuuji--"

"I love you, Megumi." Yuuji said. Megumi's eyes widened. The last thing he saw was Yuuji's smile become wide and brilliant like it usually was, as a tear fell from one of his golden brown eyes.

He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head- and the image was taken away, replaced with darkness.

When he came to, hours later, it was to a red-eyed and frowning Kugisaki.

They met eyes, and no words were needed between them.

She helped him to his feet, and he sprinted towards the battlefield-

Only to find a wasteland in its place.

All the greenery from the grasses and trees and scattered bushes had been wiped out. The blue water of the river was nowhere to be seen. The redness of blood and purple of curse-bile was gone as if it had never existed. Everything around was grey or brown. Ash or dirt.

Not even the bodies remained.

"Gojo." He didn't bother with an honorific- didn't even think to. "What happened? Where's- Where's Yuuji?"

Gojo didn't answer. Didn't even turn to look at him.

"Oi." He said, his shaky breathing speeding up. "Oi, Gojo."

He walked around to force Gojo to face him- but he wasn't expecting what he found.

"Tsumiki?"

".. Megumi." She said weakly, reaching out to him. He immediately pulled her into an embrace, supporting her full weight and taking her out of Gojo's arms.

"How are you alive? Sister, I.." There was a gentle pressure against his arms, and he released Tsumiki just slightly when he realised it was her trying to pull back.

She took a moment to prepare herself to speak.

"I think.. I met.. Your husband." She said. "Th-the one.. You told me about..."

Megumi gasped. He had spoken to her while she was bedridden, but all their healers told him she wouldn't be able to understand him if she could hear him at all. For years he'd never said a word to his sister. Yuuji had been the one to speak to her, instead, and to convince him to do so as well. 'I know they say she cannot hear us,' he'd said. 'But if she could, well then she should know what she has to look forward to.'

"Yuuji." He said. "You met him- where is he?"

Tsumiki smiled sadly.

No...

"No." He hissed, ignoring the stinging in his eyes and snapping in his heart. "No, you cannot- he would not-"

"Megumi.."

"No! You cannot tell me my husband is dead! You cannot be saved, and alive, and back with me, just to tell me my husband is gone. You were- you two were supposed to be the ones to survive!"

"Megumi--"

"Give her to me." Gojo said.

"No, she is my sister-"

"She needs care. You need something else right now."

"You don't know what I need-"

"On the contrary, I believe I know exactly what you need." Gojo looked him in the eye, and it struck Megumi that he was no longer wearing his mask. The pain and grief in his sky-coloured eyes reminded Megumi of the end of a simpler time and beginning of a more complicated one. When he clutched to himself the body of a monk-dressed assassin he'd just killed and cried like it was his own family member who'd died.

Perhaps it had been.

"Yuuji is gone." He said, and Megumi made an inhuman sound of anger. "And you need to understand that. So go out there and look, and destroy what has not already been destroyed, and do what you will not in front of us. And when you return, we will be here."

Tsumiki reached out for Gojo, and he took her into his arms carefully, before walking off of the deserted field.

Megumi turned back, and did exactly that.

He scoured the entire decimated land for anything that survived.

And when that didn't work he followed the slow-burning fires and found only stray weapons and armour. And when that ended he followed the river as far as its reddened water went, finding only dead horses and useless tools. He kept following the river, long after it had turned blue one more- and found a tree that hadn't been there before.

It was bright and large, stretching well into the sky as if it were something that could cross realms. And though it was the end of winter, when all the snow and ice had melted to leave nothing beneath- this tree was flowering.

The blossoms were a familiar pink.

Megumi fell to his knees at the base of this great tree- and wept. He screamed his pain into the air it breathed, and claws the ground where its roots lay. Why did this happen to Yuuji? Why did he think Megumi could accept this? Could live with this pain? It was killing him. It would kill him.

Why, why, why?

It felt like days had passed by the time he rose to his feet once more. He had not slept, had not eaten, and had not stopped etching his grief into the world before him.

The tree was gone.

He stumbled back along the river, until he found the rotting horses. He followed the burned and blackened stumps of trees, until he found the destroyed once-battlefield. He walked until he reached the small war-tent illuminated by a much smaller fire.

And when he arrived there, he collapsed. Into the arms of his sister, his best friend, his mentor. But not into the arms of the one he craved to see the most. He wasn't surprised. But it hurt all the same.

Zenin Yuuji, his husband, his love, his life itself- was gone.

Megumi died years later, though he wished it was seconds. He fathered no heirs, and was only married once. His mentor attended his funeral. As did his sister. And his best friend. And the Clan he hated. And the family he did not.

They prayed for him to be reunited with his husband in death. He had prayed for this as well.

-

But he didn't expect it to happen like this.

"Excuse me." A woman said, trying to get past him. He moved on autopilot, unblocking the automatic doors of the konbini and putting an end to the alarm that sounded every time the door opened.

He payed none of it any mind. He couldn't-- not when Yuuji was right in front of him for the first time in hundreds of years.

He was across the street, walking casually. He wore a yellow hoodie, blue jeans and red runners, he had a pair of earphones with a cord in his ears, and much shorter hair than he did the last time Megumi had seen him. But it was the same pink and brown colour, and his eyes were the same gold and his lips were the same shape and it was him- it was Yuuji.

Despite being all the way across the street, Megumi took a step forward and opened his mouth, wanting to say something, anything that would get those golden eyes to rest on him once again.

But before he could, another figure was stepping up beside Yuuji, throwing an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair, blocking his view of his husband.

Pink hair, red eyes and dark birthmarks in places where black tattoos used to be.

Sukuna.

Megumi clenched his fists, cursing his powerlessness. If only he could still summon his trump card. He sighed.

Even if he could, he wouldn't. It would put Yuuji in danger. He just needed to wait for the walking light to come on, cross the street and then- and then he could look into the eyes of his husband once more.

He tapped his foot impatiently. When the red light for the oncoming cars went on, Megumi crossed without waiting.

Gojo remembered. He was a schoolteacher now, and his husband remembered, too. Nobara remembered. Maki remembered. Even his own father remembered, and he'd been drunk half the time in his old life.

There was no way Yuuji would be the one exception. There's no way fate can be that cruel. Sure, Sukuna was there, too, but Yuuji had always been forgiving. Maybe in this new life- maybe, maybe, maybe-

He caught up to Yuuji and Sukuna quick. They were stopped outside of a pachinko, of course they were, and talking to each other amicably. Megumi reached forward-

And his hand was slapped away.

"Welcome home, my boys."

A woman just shorter than Sukuna rested her hands on their shoulders. His view was blocked by the brothers'.

"Aren't you s'posed to say that when we actually come home? This is a cesspit."

"Shut up Suku-nii, you wish you could live here." His Yuuji said, voice as beautiful as the day he met him. Megumi's throat tightened. He wanted to reach out again-

But his hand wouldn't move.

"No fighting, boys. Go upstairs and wait for Mummy in there, please."

"Yeah, yeah." Sukuna said, dragging Yuuji inside.

And Megumi was powerless to stop them from leaving- as he came face to face with the woman with close-eyed smile, black hair and stitching across the forehead.

"Hello, Zenin-sama." She said, smile morphing into a sickening grin. "Do you- remember me?"

#jjk #fushiita #meguyuji #itafushi #fic #jujutsu kaisen #reincarnation #ryoumen sukuna #zenin megumi #zenin yuuji #character death #technically #kenjaku #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #kugisaki nobara #tsumiki #fushiguro tsumiki #jjk tsumiki #satosugu #meguyu #meguyuuji #unfinished and probably will remain that way I have no idea where to take this! #but its been bouncing around in my head for far too long so here it is! #zenin clan #sunbeamah #drabble #oneshot #but subject to change if i get an idea!

[nickfuryagentofsword]

Avengers of the Wastelands 5 (2020) by Ed Brisson & Jonas Scharf

Wastelands

#Wastelands #Avengers #Dr Doom #Ed Brisson #Jonas Scharf

[racefortheironthrone]

Warhammer Gaslamp: Peoples of the Old World

(For Introduction, see here; for Imperial Society, see here; for Geopolitics, see here.)

While the Old World of 2725 IC is dominated by the nations of Men, the non-human species of the world are by no means vanished - although all have seen enormous amounts of change over the last two hundred years.

Although they still maintain their traditional alliance with the Empire of Man, the Dawi of the Old World suffered badly from their pyrrhic victories in the Skaven and Greenskin Wars, to the point where they have begun a slow, inexorable demographic decline - not helped by increasing assimilation into the Empire. Increasingly, the Dawi have begun to coalesce around the master plan of the Great Reckoning, an effort to avenge every single Grudge in the Dammaz Kron in one fell swoop through the creation of an army of 100,000 Slayers. When the last of the Grudges has been satisfied, the sages of Dwarfkind believe that the Ancestor Gods will return and restore their people to their former glory.

Proving that it is truly an ill wind that blows no one any good, the shift in the Aethyr mentioned earlier had a profound influence on the Asur. With the increase in the concentration of Aethyric energy around, Asur born since 2594 have universally developed psykic abilities seemingly independent of their access to the Winds of Khaos, such that the younger generation now primarily speak mind-to-mind, can move themselves and objects with a thought, and much more that was once the exclusive ability of magi. Among many of the Asur, this is seen as a sign of the gods' continual favor, but these new abilities will need to be pressed into service sooner rather than later, as the blessed isle of Ulthuan is gradually sliding beneath the waves....

While their territories in Laurelorn have shrunken dramatically, the territories of the Asrai in Athel Loren remain quite strong in Bretonnia thanks in no small part to their political influence on Forest Law in L'Ancien Régime. As part of an increased level of caution (or paranoia), the Spellsingers embarked in a campaign of educating the entirety of their population in how to magically transport themselves between the remaining forests of the Old World and the spiritual dimension of Underhill, where magic remains strong and the verdant world untouched by hands of men, and to use the Glamour to move undetected in the human world.

[From the 9th Edition Imperial Encyclopedia]: Halflings (noun). A malevolent subspecies of mutant, destroyed in the Great Gene-Purge of 2614.

Life for the Vampire Counts has become increasingly more dangerous and complex. Driven from their seat of power in a vicious war that left much of Sylvania a faintly glowing wasteland of bomb craters and barbed wire, the survivors live on the run from the Imperial Plasmic Survey and the Schwarzmänner, although some vampires and thralls alike can manage to stay one step ahead via falsified blood samples and living in masquerade in the teeming throngs of urban society. Many of the surviving vampires have developed wealthy clients from among the nobility and the haut bourgeoisie, who are willing to risk the attentions of the state in exchange for infusions that extend their lifespans by decades. At the same time, the Vampire Counts are learning how to play politics by Imperial rules...

The Old World has changed, but the Greenskins have not. Although banished beyond the World's Edge Mountains, they still practice their traditional ways of WAAAGH! and generally making a mess of things. However, they have adapted to the age of gunpowder by trading with the Ogres of the East for the 'splody stuff, from the Orkish love of really big shootas and the Goblin fascination with bombs. The Greenskins might wear top hats and call their warleaders Nobz now, but they are still the mad, anarchic bastards who refuse to die.

Despite their defeat in the wars with the dwarfs and the mysterious explosion that engulfed Skavenblight in 2573 IC, the Underempire of the Skaven has adapted to their new circumstances in new and strange ways. While increasing urbanization has allowed the Skaven to spread through the sewers and subway systems of the Empire, they face new competition from the "Untervolk" and the increasingly impressive efforts of the human Technomancers. So instead the Skaven have allied with the Slaaneshi to sell warpstone dust drugs to the stupid stupid man-things, using the financial proceeds and the insidious long-term effects of warpstone dust to weaken humanity from within.

#warhammer fantasy #warhammer gaslamp #the old world #dwarfs #high elves #wood elves #vampire counts #skaven #greenskins