#chain reaction // open starter

[gaygxnslinger]

Cayde makes laboured breathing noises as he lays there, slowly bleeding out from the shot to his chest, coughing despite the lack of lungs. Perhaps it brings him a degree of comfort, coping like this as he heaves and tries to push himself up unsuccessfully.

That hit did some real damage to him. He probably can’t walk. And it’s not like he can just drag himself to safety, he’s a hundred floors down from anyone and everything down here is wrecked because of his own stunt anyway. Cayde gives a bitter laugh amongst his sputtering...he really is his own worst enemy, isn’t he?

One thought repeats in his mind: he’s going to die here.

He can’t. And it makes him feel pathetic -- Cayde has spent his whole life running, from responsibility, from love, from everything, and he presumes death would be different. He’ll accept it, embrace it even, like a true Hunter who isn’t scared of anything.

But he’s scared now. At least he’ll see Andal again.

Then footsteps. Uldren’s smug words echo in his mind, though he isn’t entirely sure if he’s hearing things or not, all Cayde feels is a hand on his chest. His optics are fuzzy.

“...Hey... How’s...how’s my hair?” The Exo’s voice is broken, distorted.

#firefly // cayde-6 #heavy brick dropped // ic #chain reaction // open starter #alacrity // cayde lives au #blood tw #death tw #he doesnt die but like #it's more serious #but yeah! been thinkin abt this

[undercoverpena]

the day three words are said

frankie morales x f!reader | resurrected chances

they're simple. those three words. especially when you mean them

wordcount: 2k themes: mention of triple frontier plot, FLUFF, sweetness. love declarations. allusion to frankie doing bad things prior. but no use of y/n.

Frankie knows what love is.

He’s experienced it—in all of the different levels and varying forms. He’s experienced it where his breath has been taken away and others where it has crept up, gently tapped its finger across his shoulders and made him smile.

There’s the kind of love he has with his friends—his buddies. The ones bonded together by battle, blood and loss.

There’s the familial one, the kind he’s always known—always kept close.

Then, there’s the love he felt for his ex. The one who had been there, who he thought he loved with all he had, but later found that wasn’t true at all.

And then, then there was you.

You, who he’s sure he’s been in love with long before today. The signs have always been there. Brimming and growing from as far back as your two’s first date.

Your foot against his calf. Smile spreading, practically grinning as he tells you some story that he can’t even remember now. And then you leant forward, the fabric of your dress slipping from your skin. The starters had not even arrived when your hand slid over his: Frankie, shall we go somewhere else?

That’s how he found himself half an hour later, all dressed up, in a booth at McDonalds. Your finger stealing one of his fries, your grin larger than he’d seen on the night of Benny’s fight.

If Frankie were to look back and ask at what point he thinks he began falling in love with you, he’s sure it would be that moment.

The moment he tried to get the fry back from your finger, you managed to get sauce on your nose—him swiping it off with his finger, your eyes sparkling under the ceiling lights before he married his lips to yours.

Frankie hammers his knuckles against the door and puts his hands in his jacket pockets. All unsettled, awkward. Before he pulls them back out, wrapping, folding his arms over his chest.

He’d been about to adjust again when you pulled open the door.

Frankie isn't sure you even mean to, but you wrap him in goodness, light and warmth. He feels at ease and all of a sudden calm. Easily able to forget how long he's been wandering, all aimless, lost amongst forests and treacherous seas.

There hadn't been a plan. He'd dropped his son off, said the awful goodbye he dreads each time he has to—and then he drove.

And drove.

Finding himself outside of your door. Months of dates. Weeks of it sitting in his chest. Those three words clotting in his throat, growing larger, making it difficult to swallow.

It's why he's not surprised to find a confused expression greeting him, slowly morphing, extending out before it’s halted. Then, it's quickly consumed by a smile, a glimmer in your eye and a look of pure tenderness.

It’s a gaze which fills him with a warmth from the outside in. A chain reaction you enact within him with ease. A thing you’ve been able to do to him since the moment he first met you.

“Frankie—hi? Did… did we have plans?”

Removing his hat, he shakes his head. Fingers, carding through his hair, catching on a knot as he watches your head tilt.

“Do you w-wanna come in?”

Following you in, the aroma of you meets his nose—the scent which is so undefinable, yet so you.

Just like the furnishings, all airy, but snug—a soft glow from the lamp in the corner spraying delicate amber across all it can touch.

His eyes glance over filled photo frames, people he’s met and some he’s heard stories of—his fingerprint still on one from the first time he was here. A question rolling from his tongue and a story from yours.

There are also the ones filled with him, your grin illuminated, his own once foreign to him, but now forever captured. Because you make it easy for him to just breathe, to stop, allow him to just be.

His eyes slide, moving to something new, something colourful and out of place—his heart almost stopping, halting altogether.

Because there, in a frame (he knows must be new), is the art Luca had given you the last time he saw you. The dragon you’d whispered to his son about drawing, all coloured in your favourite shades, with the sun in the corner mirroring a smile he knows you helped draw.

He’s barely listening when you ask him if he wants a drink, all set to leave the room—likely to retrieve him one all the same—when he speaks up.

Clears his throat, and shifts the lump which has been slowly forming on the unannounced drive over.

“Can we talk?”

The words catch and hit the air oddly. Barely a sentence, no more than three words, yet they drape over the room—hanging, thickening like smog around the two of you as you pause in your movements.

Especially because he knows he has said them without confidence—or intent.

It’s instant, the way your face flickers with emotions—some easier to read than others.

Frankie likes that about you, that your face tells every story, whether pain or happiness. Nothing concealed, nothing easily able to be hidden. You’re genuine and authentic; you’re all kind and real.

Nothing too much, or too little.

Just like two nights ago, when he rang—flustered and stressed. You hear him out, calming him. Lightly asking him what he needs, not running for the hills as his to-do list spoiled the air. You just took things from him, removing them from his shoulders, all those miles away from him.

“Frankie, are you... Fuck—is Luca okay?”

Nodding, quickly. Reassuringly.

He gently places his hat onto your sideboard, staring at you. “He’s fine. Promise.”

It does nothing to settle you. He can tell, something he notices almost immediately. Something he can’t form the words to correct because he’s focusing on willing himself not to unspool. Wanting to do this right, not unravel in a mess at your feet.

Mostly, Frankie doesn’t want to just let it all flow from him without care, or spill the truth and paint your ears in all that he feels.

Because he’s more than okay.

If anything, he feels more than he ever thought he could.

He feels so much for you, he’s struggling with how to say it. The words tangling somewhere in the back of his oesophagus, frantic to emerge—to thrive in the space the two of you have made for one another.

You shift on the spot, worry stitching itself into the smile you try to show.

His confession had been burning a hole in his tongue for a while. Having first appeared as an ember weeks ago, growing larger when he opened his fridge and found your note—those scribbled-out instructions and timings, your little 'have fun' and a drawn heart.

You step closer, panic carving deeper into your face. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. If t—this is too much, with Luca and work—”

“No! No baby, no. It’s…”

He takes a breath.

Your hands coming across your front, fingers looping together over your waist—a swallow heard, all loud, practically punching a hole in the silence.

Sighing, Frankie rolls his lips. “I think about you without even trying.”

His heart hammers in his chest—bashing itself against his ribs.

The sound reverberates around him, travelling up to his skull. The congestion in his chest eases, and the fluttering that’s been nothing but incessant, slows.

Because he’s setting it free, letting it escape, allowing you to have it.

So he takes another breath. Flexes his hands.

“I’ve… I’ve fucked up a lot, baby. I—I did some things in my life that I’m not entirely proud of.”

He watches as your mouth clamps shut, body stilling. A nervousness quivering in the air, but less so than before. Something which urges him on, gives him the push to continue as you remain dutifully silent—allowing him to speak.

“I especially—I wasn’t in a great headspace after Colombia. Rough doesn’t… it doesn’t even begin to cover the half of it. Fuck. I even went and convinced myself that there wasn’t much left for me—falling down a hole that was nothing but pitch black. Except for Luca.”

You swallow, and it sounds louder in the quiet. More so as he lets his words settle, soak.

Frankie lets his fingers brush over his palm, thumb cupping over them as he takes a breath.

“Guys like me… we don’t do what I did and think we deserve a good ending to their story. I know that. And I’ve done it all before, right? Tried to settle down. Tried to be good. But that kind of stuff, it was never in the cards for me.”

It smooths, the expression on your face.

Slowly fading into something blank, with no edges or easily discernible things, he can begin to unpick.

“I was stuck in a dark place for a while—didn’t have much hope of getting out on my own, or ever—to be honest. So here I am, wandering around for years on autopilot, going through the motions. Reserved in thinking this is it. Everything’s just background noise. Wake up, eat, work, have Luca overnight, sleep and repeat.

“That is until Benny strong-armed me into showing up to his fight. And that day—baby, I’ll never forget it.”

He smiles and lets it sparkle out across his face, watching intently as your eyes widen ever so slightly. Engulfing him in that same sunshine and love all over again.

“Fuck, that first time you smiled at me? Baby, I was doomed. Didn’t even stand a chance. It was like… suddenly, the world’s a little less sad. Like I felt a little less lonely. Things all a little bit brighter. Am I making any sense? Because what I’m trying to say is, I didn’t feel like it was impossible. I felt seen. For the first time in… fuck… ages. It felt like I had a light at the end of the tunnel. And, if it isn’t clear, it was you.”

“Frankie…”

He steps closer, bridging the gap.

Lifting his hand, cupping both your cheeks. He tilts those eyes up, so they embed themselves into his soul—just like he wants them to. Like he needs them, too.

“I am in love with you,” he adds, more in a whisper than before. “Not just because you see me, not because you do things like fetch my son some PJs, grab groceries, and cook me a meal. But because it isn’t hard to love you—I don’t have to force it. I don’t have to remind myself to ask you things, I want to.”

Twinkling and glistening, your eyes blink. Mouth shifting, twitching, before spreading into a smile. He takes the chance to stroke his thumb against the edge of it, feels it, and basks in it as his other hand drops down to your hip, fingers spreading, fanning across.

“You done?”

Pressing his forehead against yours, Frankie feels your fingers on his temple, soft and gentle—playing with his curls, as he nods. His nose brushes against yours, watching your lips curl up into a beam, cheeks rising, as he finds his own begin to mirror it.

Then, he hears it, all soft and shaky. “Good, because I am very much in love with you too, Francisco.”

Closing his eyes, Frankie basks in it.

The feel of it—all of it. The way it sounds to hear you say those words back—the way you let his name fall like a silk ribbon from your tongue.

So much so, that he’s sure he’s being wrapped in it—your words. Being pulled into a pool of love, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have, ever deserve—suddenly diving, swimming in it. But here it is. Your love, merging with his.

And it feels right, fitting.

Then you repeat it again. And again. Whispering it like a chant, those three words, until his lips capture yours, tasting the words—feeling them down his throat as he singes them against your mouth.

Pressing each syllable and letter to yours, then your neck, your collarbone. Until you’re both stumbling, tripping over clothes that are being removed before you're on your back on your sofa, and Frankie is drinking you in.

The person he’s in love with—the one he realises he’s always been looking for.

The one he's been waiting for.

an: fuck i love these two.

thank you so much to G for the help with this, including the gifted elements that made this what it is.

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #✨🩷 francisco morales #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #mm: resurrected chances #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfic

[creepypastasomethingsomething]

CreepyPasta Incorrect Quotes Pt. 8

Zalgo: I made tea

The Slender Man: I don't want tea

Zalgo: I did not make the tea for you, idiot. This is my tea

The Slender Man: Then why are you telling me?

Zalgo: It's a conversation starter

The Slender Man: That's a lousy conversation starter

Zalgo: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

---

(Y/N): How petty can you get?

BEN: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about

---

Jason the Toymaker: Have you seen a person named 'Kagekao' around here?

Liu: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Bloody Painter: It looks fine to me?

Liu: IT USED TO BE WATER!!??

---

(Y/N), in the house Sally haunts: I'm going to lock myself in here with the ghosts

---

Jeff: Lui, what if there are monsters?

Lui: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain.

[Later]

Jeff, lying awake at night: I am the monster

---

Masky: ...I'm pretty sure that place is fire-proof, or something.

Toby, grenade in hand: Alright, but is it explosion-proof?

---

Lui: You kidnapped (Y/N)? That's illegal!

Clockwork: But Lui, what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing (Y/N) or destroying our dreams?

Lui: Kidnapping (Y/N), Natalie!!!

Kate: Lui, listen, whatever I may think of you right now- these guys are counting on you to inspire them!

Lui: What, to kidnap people?!

Clockwork: To work together!

Lui: TO KIDNAP PEOPLE?!?!?!

Jane: Lui, we all agreed a celebrity is a not a people.

---

Hobo Heart: What if people had food names and food had people names?

Jason the toymaker: Hey, spaghetti, we're having Helen for dinner.

Bloody Painter: What is wrong with you people?

Kagekao: Shut up, chocolate.

---

Nurse Ann, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you're doing it all wrong.

---

*The squad's reaction to being told they're the chosen one*

(Y/N): I will not let you down.

Jame: Sounds fun.

Hobo Heart: K.

E.J: No, I'm fucking not.

Dr. Smiley: Do I have to be?

Lui: Please god, I am so tired.

---

The Puppetteer: Hey, did you know as a kid I accidentally ate paper?

Bloody Panter: I feel like we've all done that at least once

Judge Angels: I ate it too-

Bloody Panter: See?

Judge Angels: -On purpose

The Puppetteer & Bloody Panter: ...What?

---

BEN: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

---

Toby: People are always asking me if I'm a morning person or a night person

Toby: And I'm just like, 'Buddy! I'm barely even a PERSON!'

---

Lui: Would you like something to drink? *opens fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Jeff: Spiders?

Lui: Spiders it is then.

Zalgo: No, that wasn't-

*Lui then pours Jeff a brimming glass of spiders*

---

Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut?

(Y/N): Preferably with scissors, but a sword could be badass.

#zalgo #slenderman #ben drowned #jason the toymaker #kagekao #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #bloody painter #sally williams #masky #ticci toby #clockwork #jane the killler #kate the chaser #hobo heart #nurse ann #eyeless jack #dr smiley #the puppeteer #judge angels #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #x reader

[negative-speedforce]

platonic sentence starters ❛ do you think we’re friends in every universe? ❜ ❛ you’re interesting and different and i like that. ❜ ❛ i like being alone but i’d rather be alone with you. ❜ ❛ you’re important to me, you little shit. ❜ ❛ no offense, but you look terrible. ❜ ❛ alright, who am i beating up? ❜ ❛ because you love me! duh! ❜ :)

"Because you love me! Duh!"

With: My OCs Siv, Hailey, and Jay

"In the wise words of Taylor Swift- welcome to New York." Jay grinned, dropping two suitcases on the apartment floor.

"Thank Cassandra's parents for us, will you?" Hailey hung the key on the peg by the door. "This view is amazing."

"No problem. It's been in their family for years. I tried to convince them to sell it for more- a three-bedroom condo with views of the Brooklyn Bridge has gotta be upwards of ten million these days."

"I mean, with the money I inherited when I got that stupid fucking death certificate rescinded, I probably could have paid them at least double that." Siv opened the floor-to-ceiling blinds, light flooding the front room. "Did you know my dad had over a billion dollars in offshore accounts? I have no idea if he got it legally or not, but honestly, I don't give a shit."

"Honestly? Me neither." Hailey dropped her bags on the sofa. "This place was such a steal."

"So... why Brooklyn?" Jay raised an eyebrow.

"New York doesn't really need more superheroes." Hailey squeezed her fiancee's hand. "That's why we wanted to move here. So we could scale back. Deal with city-destroying crises rather than world-ending ones."

"I want to go to art school." Siv said. "I mean, I need to finish my high school diploma first, but I'm pretty sure the knowledge I picked up just from my dad is enough to take care of that, plus at least the equivalent of a year or two of college."

"Never thought of you being an artist, but okay." Jay shrugged.

"I don't know, I want to try something new." Siv replied. "I'm trying not to live in the past anymore. I want to push myself to be something better than I was. And now that me and the Negative Speed Force are finally getting along, I won't have any more of those embarrassing incidents."

"I wouldn't call accidentally blowing up a building because you're pissed off a minor incident." Jay laughed. Siv elbowed him.

"To be fair, there was an attempted robbery and I was just trying to cash my paycheck, and I didn't blow up the entire building, I just accidentally overloaded an ATM that exploded and caused a chain reaction that made all the other ATMs explode." Siv corrected. "You should have seen that homeless guy outside, when all the money came flying out with the blast."

"Wait- that actually happened?" Hailey snorted. "That's fucking hilarious."

"I swear to god Hailey if you don't shut up now I'm leaving everything to Delilah." Siv clutched their cat close to their chest.

"What? You have to admit, it is funny." Jay replied.

"Remind me why we're friends again?" Siv rolled her eyes.

"Because you love me!" Jay elbowed Siv. "Duh."

Siv handed Delilah to Hailey. "See, I seem to remember finding some random weeb who didn't have any friends and inviting him to sit with me."

"Actually, if I remember correctly, I reached out to the friendless weirdo who everyone was terrified of because they kept getting in so many fights. And winning, of course."

"Smart addition." Siv jumped slightly as a portal opened in the floor, the rest of the suitcases and furniture being spat through to their new apartment. "Thanks, Cassandra, I guess."

"It's pronounced 'kuh-sand-rah'!" Cassandra yelled through the portal before it closed.

"That's... literally what I said." They frowned.

"You said 'cass-ahn-drah'." Jay said. "You know Cass hates that."

"Babe, where's your jacket?" Hailey asked, going through a box.

"I'm wearing it, Hailes." Siv laughed.

Hailey looked up. "I'm tired."

#post canon my beloved #revan writes #oc shit #ask revan #vexic :D #siv thawne #hailey laurence #jay barron

[ragingbookdragon]

In The End, There Are Sins We All Take To Our Graves

A Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: References to Abuse, Allusions to Abuse *PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS FIC IS NOT VAGUE IN IT'S REFERENCE TO WHAT WILL HAPPEN. THIS FIC IS DARK AND WHILE NOTHING IS INHERENTLY EXPLICIT, THE MENTIONS OF WHAT WILL OCCUR CAN AND WILL BE TRIGGERING TO SOME. IF ABUSE, ANY AND ALL KINDS, ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE BE VERY CAUTIOUS WHEN READING.*

Author's Note: Quote the ask, "Let the bitch die."

**********************************************************************

In the end, there were sins that the eldest Wayne would take to his grave. To others, he was a hero, a knight of justice, humility, and kindness. But shade of gray had shades of blue, and he himself be the first to admit he wouldn’t be stepping foot into kingdoms of white and gold when he met his end. But he would stand before whatever maker and admit unashamed what crimes he’d done, what horrid things he condoned to keep his family safe and sound; he would do whatever it would take to keep their demons dead.

***

Vitsina watched the eldest Wayne sit before the woman chained to the wall, arms above her head. She hung limply, strands of dark hair covering her face. The man leaned forward in the chair and pushed her head up, leaning it back against the wall; her eyes were open, wide with terror and he simply smiled at her.

“I see you’re finally awake Miss Flores.” He leaned back and slouched slightly, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “I bet you’re wondering where you are and why you’re in this position?”

She couldn’t nod or speak. Something…was keeping her from it.

“For starters, let’s explain why you can’t move or talk. You see, my lovely partner here, Vitsina,” he gestured to the blonde behind him. “injected you with a neurotoxic peptide concoction we like to call SCO. It stands for Speedster Clock Out. Now, what this SCO is made of, is conotoxin. But, the reason we name it after Speedsters is because it’ll take one out of commission for ten minutes. Which, is a pretty long time to remain completely still for someone who’s faster than light.”

She stared at him, all she could do.

“If it’ll take one out for ten minutes, imagine how long it’ll take you out?” he smiled. “But you don’t really care how you got here, you want to know why.” His smile dropped. “My name is Wayne. (Y/N) Wayne. Dick Grayson is my younger brother. My first, brother.” Shifting, he leaned in close again. “Karma has come calling for your life, Miss Flores. And I’m your judge, jury, and executioner here to carry it out.”

Her eyes didn’t waver from his.

“Dick told me what happened in Blüdhaven that night, did you know that?” he asked. “I held my baby brother as he sobbed and told me what you did. How he told you no, and you didn’t listen. He told me everything.”

Something, something brewed darkly in his gaze. Something so dark it was akin to demonic.

“And I waited. Letting you bide your time in hiding, carrying out your own vendettas wherever you wanted to, until the time was right. And now that that time is now…you will finally get what’s coming to you.”

He snapped his fingers and a metal door swung open, a screech of steel in their ears as two large men stepped in and up behind him. Her eyes widened ever so slightly when she saw them.

“Based on your reaction, I assume you recognize these men, Miss Flores?” he gestured to them. “You remember Alexandrov and Dmitriy, don’t you? The two men you put away when you worked in Quantico a decade ago? Well, when it hit the dark web that your life was up for grabs…these men leapt at the chance to get even with you.”

She stared at them with fear.

“See, they’ve paid me a hefty sum for your head, Miss Flores. Half a billion, to be exact.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “My only condition other than payment was that you were killed before midnight.” he made a show of looking at his watch. “And it’s five-forty-five, now.”

Something cold touched her soul when he stood from the chair and knelt before her, speaking so lowly only she could hear.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, Miss Flores, Dick had nothing to do with this. I’m the one decided to carry this out. I’ll give my brother the justice he deserves.” His eyes narrowed into slits, pure hatred in his voice. “I could care less what they do to you in the six hours they have you. But let me assure you, whatever agony and torture you’ll suffer will be a fraction to the life of trauma and distrust my brother will live with for the rest of his life.”

She felt something bubble in her throat.

“Pl…ea…s…e…”

He titled his head. “Please?”

Her eyes said, “Yes.”

“Oh no,” he murmured. “Mercy is long gone. I’ve none to give you, Miss Flores, and you’ve none to receive from anyone, least of all the people here.” He gazed at her. “You’re going to die tonight, Miss Flores, and I don’t feel any pity for you. And I want you to know that when you take your last breath, that this is the punishment you brought yourself by your actions that night.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Ple…ase.”

He simply stood up. “Que Dios se apiade de tu alma, porque yo no tengo ninguna para ti. Y sólo espero que cuando muera vaya al infierno para poder matarte de nuevo para mí.”

Turning, he walked past the men who enveloped the sight of her as he left.

***

The phone rang exactly ten minutes after the stroke of midnight, and he lifted the device to his ear. “It’s done?”

Mhm. All three of them are dead.

“And their bodies?”

I will have them taken care of within the next few hours. No one will ever know.

He glanced out towards the living room floor, at the pile of siblings strewn out across the carpet and furniture, until his eyes landed on his first brother. His eyes narrowed in something he couldn’t quite name, a sadness, perhaps a shame.

I know what you are thinking, старый друг. I understand your motives and admire the lengths you went through to save your brother. The rage we are both full of for our loved ones is real.

“I didn’t save him, Vitsina,” he muttered. “I let it happen.”

You did not know it happened until he told you, старый друг. You cannot blame yourself for that. What matters is that you took it away. You have killed his demon.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know…”

Regardless, you did the same for me when my husband and child’s murderers remained alive. You know I would walk through fire for you and your family.

“Thank you, Vitsina.”

Always. But I will go now. I must prepare their bodies for cremation and clean the warehouse.

“Yeah, text me when it’s done?”

Of course. And (Y/N)?

“Yeah?”

Though leaving her to the fate she suffered was cruel, it was deserved, and you were right to sentence her.

The line clicked and he set the phone down, walking over to the group of siblings; gently, he wedged himself between Cassandra and Dick, taking both of them into his arms. Cassandra immediately flopped into his lap and Dick nudged his head underneath (Y/N)’s chin. He softly brushed the back of Dick’s head, murmuring, “I love you, Dickie.”

Dick grunted in his sleep, arms curling against his chest as he hunkered down. “…Love…you, bub…”

In the end, there were sins that the eldest Wayne would take to his grave. For every shade of blue had a touch of gray. But tonight there were no sins to carry. There was simply a family. A family of broken souls. And the eldest Wayne would bear their brokenness and heal what he could by keeping their demons dead and at bay.

#batbro imagine #batbro imagines #batbro #batbrother imagine #batbrother imagines #batbrother #batbro x batfamily #batbrother x batfamily #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc comics #dc #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing

[ariaboughton]

- OPEN STARTER where: sidewalks outside of apartment building

"Yeah, mom. No - no, I'll be back in time for the dinner. Promise. Nope, totally mean it this time." Aria pauses in her conversation and shifts one of the bags in her hands. It sits precariously on her hip while the other bag slides down her arms some as she tries to move quickly to the steps up to the building.

On the phone pressed to her ear, anyone passing by would be able to hear the loud rambling of her mother. "No, it's not about dad, please. I'll be there, okay? I gotta - I gotta go, I'm gonna drop all my noodles."

She adjusts to end the call, but it slips from her fingers and lands - no, bounces - off of the cement and causes a chain reaction of her bags also falling around her. One of the cartons of milk splits open and splashes onto her and onto the unwilling bystander who she, of course, knocks her head into as she tries to stand to survey the damage.

"I am so--" she begins, holding her hands up. Worry is plastered all over her features, "I'm so sorry. I can totally pay for the dry-cleaning." She couldn't, but she'd attempt to.

#wb.open #feel free to assume connections and stuff #something short n sweet to get aria in trouble dfksjdf

[tiffanylilalayorlestron]

Pokemon X Genshin Impact

(I originally posted this on a different account, but I'm doing some blog clean up and I'd like my writing stuff here, so I've rewritten the entire post here. It was originally posted on February 19th, 2022, so if some of the things in the post seem a little dated or strange, that would be why. 2.6 hadn't released yet in Genshin and Scarlet and Violet hadn't either. I intend to delve back into this idea some more, because I've fallen back into the hole that is Genshin.)

With the release of Pokemon Legends Arceus and my undending love/obsession for both the Pokemon series and Genshin Impact, I decided to dredge up an old concept that's been sitting in my phone notes since November of 2021, which can be boiled down to 'Pokemon in the Genshin Impact Universe'. Legends has allowed some of these ideas to finally be more fleshed out, so I'm sharing them. Most of this stuff was written before Legends came out so some things may change, but these are my initial ideas!

Portals open in the Pokemon world. There are several possibilities for why this occurs.

Lumine and Aether attempt to leave Teyvat via portal, but when the Unknown God interrupts the portal goes haywire and connects to a different world than they meant to go too (or their next destination was the Pokemon Universe).

Rhinedottir fucks with the fabric of space time using Khemia and accidentally sets off a chain reaction that opens portals to the Pokemon universe.

Someone in the Pokemon Universe, while messing with the Red Chain, causes Dialga/Palkia/Arceus to open portals between worlds (or they distort/weaken the boundaries between universes).

There are so many things in the Pokemon World that could cause something like this to happen, besides just the Red Chain. Any of the creation trio or Arceus. Hoopa. Ultra Wormholes. Celibi. Jirachi. I'm SURE there's more. All it would take is for a human to go messing with something a little more powerful than they can understand, or a Pokemon who's bored, even, to cause something like this to happen.

Any of these are possible explanations.

Regardless of how, portals connecting the Pokemon Universe and the Genshin Universe begin to open. These portals open randomly and sporadically, and only for short periods of time before closing again, but they allow travel between the two worlds and Pokemon begin to appear in Teyvat.

Slowly but surely, Pokemon begin to integrate themselves into Teyvats ecosystems, with even Legendary and Mythical Pokemon occasionally crossing over. After 500 years, they've become a common occurance.

I, personally, headcanon that Teyat (and the Pokemon world) is much bigger than the in game map, so there would be plenty of room for Pokemon of all types to live.

Humans cross over, but much more rarely. I explain this as both worlds appear to have very small human populations and an excessive amount of wild lands.

Teyvat's differing ecosystems allow Pokemon to evolve differently and thus variants for different regions are born.

Most Pokemon gravitate towards different areas based on their type. Some are more obvious, like Liyue is filled with rock, ground and steel types and Sneznyaha is filled with ice types. Some are less obvious, like how electric types hate Inazuma because of the overload of electricity there. Ghosts love Wuwang Hill and many of the shrines in Inazuma. It can also depend on the Pokemon too. Electrike and Manectric love the open fields in Mondstadt and t he Rock Spear Islands in Liyue are great for fighting and psychic types to train and live.

Starters flourish. Since there aren't any people who know their rarity they grow in numbers over time until they have stable populations.

I believe there is absolutely a professor type who came through and was like, 'Holy Arceus! This is a groundbreaking opportunity for levels of research that could literally never be achieved! I must STUDY!' and spends their life studying the effects of an entirely new world and eventually begins a guild that's all about Pokemon. scientists, rangers and trainers, both with and without visions, that outlasts them long after they've passed.

Pokeballs and the technology to make them don't exist so "trainers" have free range teams only limited to however many they can actively train (one to two is common, three is the most general range, six is rare, anything above six is unheard of)

Pokemon level the playing field for people without visions (since anyone can be a trainer), but vision wielders have a higher profinity to train Pokemon. Better bond or whatever.

Pokemon connect naturally to the elements of Teyvat without the gods, kind of like how Hilichurls and monsters do. They don't need visions.

Flora has a Skiploom and a Bulbasaur, as a treat.

Albedo has a Claydol.

The kid on the bridge attracts all the bird Pokemon. (I'm just imagining, like, some Taillow and Starly eating seeds alongside regular doves, while a massive fuckin' Staraptor is just perched behind the kid, watching over them all. Makes me giddy.)

Pokemon are hunted down in Inazuma, being seen as a direct challenge to eternity (evolution the fact they are not from the world, a huge change to the natural and social ecosystem, don't fall under the elements of the gods, ect.) Watatsumi Island is a haven for tons of Pokemon and the Sangonomya Resistence fighters regularly fight alongside Pokemon.

I think there are definitely both bonds between Hilichurls and Pokemon and territory disputes between Hilichurls and Pokemon.

An Articuno claims Dragonspine, a Moltres claims the volcano in Natlan, and a Zapdos claims Seirai Island.

Treasure hunters utilize Pokemon well, though not every Harbinger is down to use them (Childe LOVES Pokemon, Dottore is fascinated by them, Signora hates them until she finds The Ones, Scaramouch refuses to have anything to do with them). Most Fatui soldiers are assigned something, but the choices are much more varied

Zhongli and Venti are down with them. The Adepti kind of just accept them as a part of the world eventually, as you would any animal.

When Pokemon first started to appear it takes time for them to become normal. This is all happening at the same time as, like, Durin and the downfall of Khaenri'ah so people were already on edge. The Adepti absolutely killed many Pokemon, and they are regarded as deamons, monsters and bringers of misfortune in some areas. Relations between humans and Pokemon in some places are still terrible even after 500 years (like Inazuma, beyond Watatsumi).

Pokemon being utilized in some festivals, like Windblume and the Lantern Rite. (Flying types and floating Pokemon to collect lanterns afterwards anyone?)

Zhongli and Rayquaza is pretty good, but I'm on the fence about it.

Portals open in different points in time as well, so Pokemon from different ages can come through (Basculegion, Porygon, Fossil Pokemon)

Fox Pokemon in Inazuma are seen as especially egregious.

Certian Pokemon that appear cause massive destruction. A Tyranitar shows up and causes massive damage somewhere. I imagine there's a grumpy but chilled Tyranitar/Druddigon wandering around Watatsumi Island as, like, a protector.

People in Liyue flaunt well groomed Pokemon as a symbol of status, maybe?

I know there's no actual information on these two countries but also:

People in Natlan fight Pokemon. Not with other Pokemon. Just, like, barehanded wrestling an Arcanine into the ground.

Sumeru is a hotspot for all sorts of Pokemon.

#pokemon #genshin impact #crossover #drabble #all of these were ideas I had before Legends Arceus actually released #Some are pretty close to what's in the actual game #so that's cool

[infiniteconjuration]

Plotted starter for Severus Snape [@pctioneer]

Godric's Hollow, Suffolk, West Country 31st Octber, 1981 - 9:22pm

The figure watched as the tall raven-haired man in glasses used his wand to create puffs of multi-colored smoke that a young, raven-haired child was waddling about and trying to capture. A crimson-haired woman entered the room shortly thereafter, taking the child from the man as he scooped the boy up and handed him over.

The man carelessly tossed his wand onto the sofa, yawning and turning away from it.

The gate creaked as the figure stepped through it, but the occupants did not hear. Nor did they hear as he lifted a pale hand, spindly fingers wrapped around the hilt of a wand. The wind gusted and scurried up the leaves, causing the cottage to shudder, almost as if it were attempting to back away from the figure in an attempt at self preservation. The figure grinned, and the door burst open with a beam of golden light, swinging so sharply that it rattled the wall as it made contact.

There was a shout of surprise from somewhere just beyond the entryway, an exclamation of sound, just before the words, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! RUN! I'll hold him off!" echoed through the cottage.

Crimson eyes shifted to the left, following the sound of shuffling and fumbling surprise, wand already poised. The tall, raven-haired man appeared just seconds later and the figure couldn't help but let out a hissing laugh as both of the man's hands were empty. He hadn't even thought to grab his wand! The fool.

"Avada Kedavra," the figure hissed, the words sharp and disgusted. There was a brilliant flash of emerald green, and the man fell to the floor with an unremarkable thud, limbs tangled and eyes still open, though the light had now gone from them. The figure did not linger as the man fell, simply moving on toward the sounds coming from the level above with a wand at the ready.

"JAMES!" came a muffled cry from the woman upstairs and as the figure climbed them one by one the sounds of shuffling and thumping could be heard among the gentle sobbing of the woman inside of the room. She hadn't a wand, either, it seemed- how pathetic. Putting such faith in friends was foolish, and the figure sneered at the idea of it.

The landing of the stairwell lit up brilliantly, the door and other objects standing between the figure and the prize heaving a great groan before exploding inward, sending splinters and shards of broken wood flying throughout the room beyond. The woman shouted in surprise, her body shielding that of the squirming child in her arms. The figure growled deeply, crimson eyes fixated on the child rather than the witch as she dropped the boy into the crib and turned to face the Dark Lord with arms thrown open wide, rambling madly in fear.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" came the shuddering plea, stained with terror more so than bravery. "Please-- take me, kill me instead--!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now!"

"Not Harry! Please- have mercy! Have mercy… Not my son, not Harry- please, I-I'll do anything!- NO--!"

"Avada Kedavra!!"

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Glenmore, Scottish Highlands 31st October, 1995 - 9:22pm

The Potions classroom lay dark and barren the night the world shifted. The air within it, always having been somewhat stale and acrid due to the years and years of billowing potions fumes, began to thicken with ozone slowly- so slowly that it took nearly forty-five minutes for the glass of the graded Potions phials laying on the desk at the head of the classroom to frost over with the chill of the new atmosphere.

One of them shuddered a bit before crackling in a spider-webbed pattern, oozing the contents onto the rest of the lot and causing a chain reaction. Each of the phials cracked in turn as they were touched by the liquid substance within every other and before long the desk was covered in broken glass and sludge that seemed to be staining the wood a deep purple color already. The thickening keenness grew and spread, the wintry air kicking up and starting to billow about the classroom.

What hadn't been soaked in sludge from the broken potion phials fluttered and floated around the room for a few moments before clambering back down to the floor with various thuds, clanks and shatters. In the center of the room a pale glow began to flicker, the wreckage of the billowing gale before kicking up again as the flickering grew into more of a soft pulsation. The soft light grew and grew until it looked very nearly like a person if the person were a footprint in the snow.

The gales howled and the classroom began to creak and groan as the desks threatened to slip away from their designated spots, the imprint of the human taking form and shape and name. The visage of the young woman was terrified and trembling, her arms outstretched to either side of herself as her incorporeal face glistened with what might have once been tears. She shifted from side to side, almost as if she were attempting to shield something that wasn't visible. Within the gale storm a voice could be heard, spectral and desperate and carrying on the winds.

"-please! Not Harry, I beg of you, have mercy! Please have mercy! Take me instead--!"

#pctioneer #Lily Potter Muse #v: the calm before #v: hogwarts is my home #death cw #murder cw #[[ hope this is alright! ]] #Long Post #[[ long post ]] #[[ sorry this took forever i was moving to a new place ]]

[sydsmooses]

open starter for venus levy.

×

a full week later and the department was still gossiping about venus' little stunt. she knew it had been foolish, but there had also been a life in danger and, well, weren't cops meant to serve and protect?

she hadn't meant to become the subject of meaningless gossip between obnoxiously nosy police officers, nor had she meant for it to become the huge thing it had. impulsive, reckless ㅡ she'd received a very lengthy phone call from her foster mother, which included a long lecture on how her adhd could cause her to be impulsive and how she must repress such urges. five minutes later, she'd forgotten most of the statistics and facts the woman had told her.

a loud screech pulled the young woman out of her thoughts, eyes wide as she watched a car slam into the side of another and burst into flame. "holy shit!" she yelped, racing towards the car. later, she would blame it on her need to help. others would blame it on foolish and reckless impulsivity.

she wasn't sure how long it had taken her to get the people out of both cars, with help from some kind civilians, but by the time she had, she was tired and in some slight pain. perhaps she'd hit herself on accident.

for a moment, black dots spotted her vision as she led the last person over to the arriving paramedic truck, leaning against it a moment to catch her breath, looking around at the scene.

it's the small jostle of the truck that sets off a chain reaction, a sequence of events that will plague venus' mind for the rest of her life.

first, the black dots come back ㅡ larger this time. and then she loses her balance, almost immediately toppling to the ground. and finally, she recognizes the sharp pain in her head ㅡ fuck, she vaguely remembers hitting her head against the car door when trying to drag someone out. maybe she should've gotten looked at sooner, huh?

#9 1 1 lonestar rp #9 1 1 rp #oc rp #onechicago rp #chicago fire rp #chicago med rp #chicago pd rp #greys anatomy rp #station 19 rp #brooklyn 99 rp #eddie diaz rp #evan buckley rp #jay halstead rp #will halstead rp #connor rhodes rp #erin lindsay rp #venus levy ! #WHEEEE TAGS #pls stop me

[deathfavor]

@requiemofrebellion said: "Cub , what were you thinking ? " (hanma to kazutora - one of their adult verses maybe when kazutora is in a bad place mentally??? owo or if you come up with a different idea i am cool with that too!!)

dusty toybox sentence starters

It is a habit that Kazutora has never broken; fleeing when he's at his darkest moments. What tiger wants to be seen when it is weak? When it feels like its been dragged through the mud rather than standing proud? He's always run away when he's at his lowest, running alone rather than to the embrace of people. And more often than not, it's up, up, up to desolate, lonely rooftops without chains or barriers to stop him from staring at the abyss. Or, maybe, to just not ruin the view of the sky. He will never tell.

Smoke trails from his lips like a soul's last breath as he smokes, golden eyes staring blankly up at the sky and the dark space between the stars .Some look close together but he knows they're not; if you scream at one star, it might be hundreds of years before it ever reaches the other star. Far, far too late for anything to be done. Except he doesn't scream. One minute he'd been at the party and the next he'd vanished. Would anyone notice? Did it matter? Kazutora doesn't know when he's started to shake, only that he struggles to catch the cigarette between his lips and his vision swims The wind is harsh, especially high up on the rooftop, but Kazutora doesn't mind it. Doesn't care. Doesn't notice. What's the difference? He draws in another lungful of nicotine but it doesn't help. It's just a familiar motion without the comfort. It helps with anxiety, with stress. It does not help with the claws of Kazutora's demons that sink into him like traps and spears. Frustration boils over and he hurls the cigarette to the side.

He tears his gaze from the stars and instead glances down towards the darkness. If you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss gazes back to you

He hears the rooftop door groan as rusted metal opens for someone else joining him. He should look considering no one else should be up here, but he doesn't. He does nothing until arms pull him back and the familiar smell of Hanma's cologne fills his nose. Somehow, that's what finally prompts a reaction.

" Let me go! Hanma! Let go! " Kazutora struggles and pushes, but no matter how much he strains against the reaper's arms, he can't escape the warm embrace. ( He wants to sink into it but the kindness feels painful when his demons are ripping him apart. ) " Let go! Yell at me! Hit! Fuck, just doing something! " He fights and he struggles and he yells in vain until his energy starts to wane, until his arms hang limp and he's just left panting and limply leaning against Hanma's chest.

All that show of anger and pain crumbles as tears spring to Kazutora's eyes when Hanma's voice is gentle. He wants Hanma to scream or be mad or something. He wants violence or for it to hurt at least or anything but this tender softness that makes guilt coat his tongue. All he's done is scream and wrinkle Hanma's suit with his struggling, acting just like an injured, aggravated animal. Hanma just sounds worried despite that. An ugly sob tears from Kazutora's throat and the tears start to pour out. There's nothing pretty, it's just ugly and raw and vulnerable. Pathetic. Hanma came all this way to see something so pathetic? Kazutora sinks to his knees as he sobs, heavy sounds that shake his body with each one of them.

" I'm s-s-sorry. " He hiccups between tears, gasping for air. He doesn't want to admit the thoughts crawling through his head. He can't see with how teary his eyes are but there's a weak effort to smooth out the wrinkles, or something like that. Not that it will do anything for the dust from kneeling on the rooftop He feels guilty. Guilty Hanma saw this, guilty that care was met with bared teeth, guilty at the time Hanma's wasting on him. guilty, guilty, guilty. It feels like tar in his throat and his stomach. " Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. " He chokes out between sobs, unable to find the other words he should say.

Hanma's so warm and Kazutora yearns for it. But it hurts too, to be greeted with warmth despite his claws, to be met with patience. " Feels like I'm drowning, like I'm being ripped apart. " Finally Kazutora manages to say something other than just I'm sorry, his tears finally starting to slow down. God, he sounds so fucking ungrateful, doesn't he? His lips tremble, his whole body shaking in Hanma's grasp.

#requiemofrebellion #oh he is in PAIN :') #feels so bad over it too #im ;-; over it #᛭ — [IC] wounded tiger caught in mania's pit [KAZUTORA HANEMIYA] #᛭ — [VERSE: BAD END 3] lick violence off your fangs and smile [KAZUTORA HANEMIYA]

[gaygxnslinger]

“Mmrrrrrm,” he’s looking at you with big ol’ optics. How can you ignore Cayde like this? It’s impossible.

“Kisses?”

#firefly // cayde-6 #heavy brick dropped // ic #chain reaction // open starter #silley

[tatteredxsails]

open starter: aspiring rockstar au

One day, things wouldn't be like this. One day, things would be better. People would recognize him. They'd squint against the stage lights and look out over the crowd of people screaming their name and singing their songs.

For now... for now, they were squinting against light reflecting off the hood of a salad bar. They ran their finger along the polished chrome and lifted it to look at the dust that he'd collected. The band was playing, the drums thundering in their ears and a guitar squealing. None of them fit in this place, but fuck, this was the only place willing to give them any kind of gig at this point. The fuck kind of restaurant chain had a live band, anyways? They'd played at bars. They'd played at other venues with open mic nights. Entered a few battle of the bands... maybe they'd pick up another night back to Jackie'z again soon.

Eddie had bigger aspirations than this. Bigger than Jackie'z. There were factors that were standing in the way. Namely, the world's overall reaction to them. All of them. They might have been the most controversial member of the band (if you asked the grandmother worrying into her salad in the corner) but that didn't mean that she was the only one that had ever experienced being something unwanted. The Queen Anne's Revenge looked like Rob Halford fucked Bowie with Elton John sitting in the eponymous cuckold chair in the hotel room where it went down. That was when they were being more thematically cohesive. Some days, they all looked like they'd wandered in from different genres and somehow ended up performing on the same stage.

The guitar eased into silence and Eddie lifted the microphone up to their lips, "Thank you ladies, gentlemen... and those of us who know better."

That got a smattering of laughter. There were some people crowded into the establishment who were genuine fans and who weren't being treated to the equivalent of a musical assault while they tried to enjoy their overpriced, reheated, lobster and congealing butter.

"I want to tell you a little bit about how I got here. How I became the... stunning woman standing before you," Eddie always pitched their voice just a little bit lower when they said that, in part because of the reactions it got. Amusement, a curled lip, it didn't matter. None of them had any idea which direction they were headed, anyways. Did they? They'd lost track somewhere, hadn't they?

They pushed some of their silver and black hair over their shoulder, "You see, it all began when I was just a slip of a boy..."

Maybe the hadn't taken off because Eddie was... too personal, with their music. The sets were part musical performance and part confessional with the assurance of a captive audience. Eddie dipped a chunk of rubbery lobster into the butter dish on their plate while they gave that some thought. The place was dead quiet since they'd packed up their set to settle in for the meal that was a part of their payment for performing. They hadn't done great on tips that night, but at least they had the fucking lobster and sodas hissing in thick plastic cups. Every one of these damn restaurants was the same and every night was blending together.

They could go back to Jackie'z. They did better at Jackie'z. But you didn't get noticed in a dive bar. Not that you got noticed playing a set at Bilgewater's, either, but fuck it was something akin to touring like a real band.

Eddie wiped some butter from their face and looked down at the lipstick smudged on the napkin. That was just great. They wiped at the edge of their lip with their pinky to try and neaten things up, then glanced up, not having caught the last thing said to them.

"What?"

#au: origin of love #my partner and I agreed that if Ed were a 'rockstar' that it would be Hedwig and the Angry Inch style #so now I am putting this out in the world #and skittering off #tatteredxsails:edward #Ed's pronouns were wandering everywhere while I wrote this so excuse me if you spot an inconsistency

[adorcble]

Name: Amber  Timezone: AEST Age: 25 Pronouns: She/Her Star Sign: Libra Discord: Amber#1711

Open Starters - Here 

Gif Hunts - Here

Wanted Opposites - Here

Guidelines - Here

Verses

you'll be alright no one can hurt you now - The Hunger Games 

it’s a cruel summer - The Summer I Turned Pretty

i can see us lost in the memory - Divergent

always at the right place at the right time - Harry Potter (Next Generation)

so I sneak out to the garden to see you - Harry Potter (Golden Trio Generation)

i can still make the whole place shimmer - Harry Potter (Marauders Generation)

and the touch of a hand lit the fuse of a chain reaction of counter moves - Harry Potter ( Founders Generation)

#ooc | amber announces

[armed-and-alxne]

Available RP Verses

{out of ammo} Below the cut is a list of all of Luther’s available verses for rp threads. I’ll list their tags as well so anyone reading his threads will know what verse they’re written in.

Canon Verse: { my former life } ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵖᵃˢᵗ - This encompasses the canon events of Red Widow, at any time point before Luther is killed. There are a number of different ways he could meet your muse during the canon events of the show. Your muse could meet him by chance at Andrei’s restaurant or when he’s out running errands, could be an agent trying to gain information about the Petrov family, or could be a fellow criminal. 

Main Verse / Post-Canon: { new beginnings } ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ - Building on the canon verse, except that Luther doesn’t die and instead chooses to leave San Francisco to start a new life somewhere else. This is the verse I’ve written Luther the most in, and it has the most versatility as far as starters. Luther could be anywhere in the world for just about any reason, so this verse is wide open for a multitude of thread ideas.

Human MCU Verse: { unlikely avenger } ᵐᶜᵘ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ - Luther would probably be taken out of jail or would avoid going to jail because he’d be given a deal to work for SHIELD or some other agency instead. Given his skills, he’d be an asset to a number of organizations for various reasons. It would depend on the setup and who the other muse in the thread is as far as what thread plots might occur. Or, he could just be interacting with MCU characters in a crossover type fashion.

Mutant MCU Verse: { electric personality } ᶜᵒⁿᵈᵘⁱᵗ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ - This verse can exist outside of an MCU setting, but it honestly makes more sense for Luther to be a mutant in the MCU. I am actually borrowing the conduit condition from the inFamous game franchise, tweaking it a bit, and adapting it to essentially make Luther a mutant with control over electrical energy and devices. He can absorb electrical energy from anything that supplies or runs on electrical power and use it to charge other devices, attack, make restraints to hold people, even heal a little bit. He can’t be electrocuted, as he is a conduit for electrical energy and therefore unharmed by it. In this verse he would either be on his own or he’d join the Avengers or SHIELD, maybe even SWORD.

Winter Soldier MCU Verse: { unwilling weapon } ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒˡᵈⁱᵉʳ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ - Luther was captured and put into the winter soldier program, either taken by Hydra as a child or apprehended later in life. Threads can take place either while he’s an active asset or after he escapes Hydra.

Vampire Verse: { dark rebirth } ᵛᵃᵐᵖⁱʳᵉ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ - Pretty self-explanatory, heh. Luther’s a vampire! The reasons why, who turned him, and how long he’s lived as one will likely change depending on who the other muse in the thread is and what their background for meeting would be. Likely, this verse would build on his main verse and take place after the events of the show.

Silent Hill Verse: { trial by fire } ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ ʰⁱˡˡ - Luther taken at any point in canon or after, and he finds himself in Silent Hill somehow. Usually this verse would be set up such that he would be trapped there with another muse, and threads would consist of battling their inner demons as brought out by the evil of the town or just trying to survive the creatures and people there who would try to kill them.

Resident Evil Verse: { wait zombies are real? } ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵛⁱˡ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ - The T-virus gets out into Raccoon City and begin a chain reaction of outbreaks across the U.S., and then the world. Luther’s just one more person trying to survive the horror. He could be working with another muse, protecting another muse, or he could just happen to run into another muse while searching for survivors or supplies among the madness of the zombie apocalypse.

Police Officer Verse: { to protect and serve } ᶜᵒᵖ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ - Because this verse is very cano-divergent, I’ve done a separate writeup with more detail for it here. This verse explores an early deviation in Luther’s timeline in which he is reunited with his biological father instead of being picked up by Andrei. He goes on to become a well-respected SFPD cop with a supportive partner and best friend, an abusive ex-wife, and a seemingly endless journey to try to get promoted to detective.

#{ out of ammo } ᵒᵒᶜ #rp verses

[slashersins-abandoned]

tw : noncon

bubba sawyer x reader

The smell of death seems almost normal now . Stale air that keeps the metallic tang of blood hangs hot and musty in the basement where you sway on the meat hook . A few days ago it made you gag , now it clings to the sweat and dirt on your skin that seems to build up in layers , and you’ve come to accept it .

The sound of the metal door screeching and creaking open catches your attention . A chilling fear corses down you and makes the Texas heat a distance memory . Would you be next ? Slaughtered and cut up by the brutal butcher wearing a dead man’s face ? Somehow you muster the strength to try and escape , but with your wrist bound and caught between a hook , and your toes barely scrapping the concrete below it’s nearly impossible . The only thing you can end up doing for yourself is sway more in a mockery of how you’d been strung up .

Heavy footsteps sound the unavoidable arrival of the man you least want to see . And soon his large frame comes into view , his shadow engulfing you . He’s filthy . But then again , you both are right now . It makes you wonder if he ever knew what being clean was ? Maybe . His somewhat put together outfit - a pair of slacks , a button up shirt , a tie , and a filthy blood stained apron . It’s an odd combination , a mimicry of a some proper hillbilly gentleman . Though you refuse to look at his face . Even when he shoves a crackled bowl of water against your lips , the cool water heaven against your chapped lips .

You hate yourself for giving in , but the need for that reviving liquid on your too dry throat is too great for you to resist . And the happy noises that come from the man who seems to get closer show that it must be a good decision on your part . Maybe you’d live a little bit longer . Maybe long enough to hope .

All too soon you swallow down the last drop of the water offered , and you curse yourself for now savoring it more - who knows when your next taste of relief will come ? The thought isn’t a settling one . You try not to think about it . Instead your eyes move to the shuffling form of your captor .

He doesn’t talk . He’s never talked . Grunted , yes , something he babbled as if he were saying words , happy squeals , angry grunts . It was all so . . . confusing . Knowing what this man wanted , why he was keeping you , it was impossible . But still , you held your breath , hoping his hands wouldn’t move towards the weapon he’d brandished so easily the first time you saw him .

It’s as if he knows what you’re thinking . He moves towards the table where the heavy piece of machinery sits . All the sudden you’re too tense , too on edge , hyper vigilant as you hold your breath . Today’s the day , isn’t it ? You’d lived your last . You’ll end up cut in half and butchered just like your friends and this man will just be find and -

Seeming all too happy the hulking masked man sits down at the table . It’s only then you notice the items he’s placed alongside his chainsaw , and the sight of them do nothing to help you calm the sudden hammering of your heart . A new sharper chain , oil , and a few small tools . If you had any tears left to cry , they’d be streaming down your face and blinding your vision .

All too aware of your impending mutilation your eyes lock on his movements . Thick , fat , dirty fingers so easily working to get the old chain off . Chunks of meat and dried blood staining the worn down chain . How many bones had been sawed by those dull blades ? Would id be less painful to tie under the sharp teeth of a clean chain ? Or would it hurt the same as being torn into by the work worn saw ?

Suddenly your trembling , so focused on those fiddling fingers oiling and cleaning the now chainless saw that you don’t realize you’ve made noise . The fact the fingers have paused , bow tapping nervously doesn’t click in your mind . And when it does it causes your brow to furrow , eyes flickering to the masked man’s face - a mistake . The moment you take in the stolen face of another person you want to gag and throw up the water you’d only just had . But what’s worse is that you lock eyes with the behemoth of a man .

Dark swirling brown eyes . Ones that are too bright , too curious as he stares at you . It feels like an eternity but finally you pull your gaze away , glancing back to the weapon on the table . And those brown eyes follow your gaze . Thick fingers move back over the metal , then down lower , and lower until they’re resting against the plastic starter .

Never in your life had you felt your heart sink to your stomach so quickly . A soft “no” leaving your cracked lips . Another mistake , because the larger man wraps his fingers around the starter and starts to pull . In abstract horror you watch . One easy pull , like it was nothing to rev the motor . The heavy saw weightless in large hands and thick arms . A second one and the motor sings for a few se seconds before fluttering off . The third has your vision blinding , fear flooding your senses and making it hard to even bring air into your lungs .

The panic consumes you in such a way that the heavy steps of the large man coming closer don’t register in your ears . It’s not until you feel the metal of the saw vibrating against your thigh that you jolt back to reality , letting you a shocked sob . But pain never comes . There’s no tearing of flesh under vicious teeth . No searing hot pain as you’re torn in two . Instead just the shaky , loud hum of the motor and the chainless saw against your skin .

Confusion is an understatement . Why - What happened ? What was - An aborted attempt to shift away is made , only for the man who’s gotten closer to raise the tip of the saw up and towards -

“W - Wait ! Don -“ You try to speak , but the butcher has other ideas . The saw makes it way between your legs , rubbing over your clothed crotch .

The vibrations are so sudden and shocking that you choke on your words . In an attempt to get away your thighs all together , but it only seems to make it worse . An excited noise coming from the larger man as it moves closer and starts forcing his saw between them , forward and back forward and back . Those curious big brown eyes focused on how you squirm .

The movement makes you cry out . In panic , in shock , in some fucked up kind of forced arousal - you aren’t sure . And every reaction pulled from you only boldens the large Texan .

With a whimper you try to pull away , only to find the base of the saw pressed close to you , the vibrations so powerful that you can’t stop your body from coming undone . With a soft cry , and the steady obeisant grinding of the chainsaw against your sex , you cum .

Shame floods you , along with a strange relief . Not even the sound of the chainsaw dying and the loss of friction is enough to pull you from your sudden exhaustion . So much effort your body didn’t have pulled out of you by just a few unwanted touches . Yet you welcomed the warmth in your belly . It was something - proof that you were alive , some kind of final acceptance .

Hanging slack and panting , the larger man’s hands flutter over you . Chubby fingers smudging the dirt on your cheek with his own only for them to tentatively travel down to the mess in your shorts . The action pulls a gasp from you , and continues to make you squirm as he lets his hands explore . Cupping and rubbing , spreading the wet mess over you and making it seep further into the fabric keeping his rough padded fingers from your sensitive flesh .

It’s a relief when he pulls them away . Only for you to to go breathless when your shorts are roughly tugged down and you’re fully exposed . The air is hot , but feels freezing on your slick skin , not that you have time to think of it before there’s a leather nose shoved between your thighs . The curious babbles , happy squeals , and heavy sniffing sounds make you squirm away , but you only move against him more as he snorts softly .

A mouth soon follows the nose and a sobbed , “Please ! D -“ tears from your throat only to fall on deaf ears . A thick , too hot , too wet tongue glides over you dipping and lapping as fat lips suckle and teeth lightly scrape over your most sensitive place . He’s eating up your mess . The idea of it makes your belly do a flip - and at this point you don’t know if it’s good or bad . But it is maddening .

Those fat hands grips your thighs easily , spreading them as he continues his adventurous assault on you . The same dizzying warmth flooding you and when you twitch and leak , the pleased sounds from the man on his knees seems almost welcome .

“BUBBA ! GET UP HERE WE GOT VISITORS !”

Just as soon as it’d happened it was over . The large man - Bubba - stood towering over you , whipping the mess on his mask off his face with the back of a dirty man . Only to use the same one to pat the top of your head like one would a pet . Quicker than you’d like to have seen he puts on the fresh chain to his weapon and revs it up . The gleaming metal shining in the dull light of the basement .

As the man runs upstairs you whimper out . The sounds of screams filling your ears as you wonder just how long you had before you ended up on the table .

#bubba saywer x reader #bubba sawyer imagine #bubba sawyer #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers imagine #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

May i request for the Noncon starter sentence with “I’m not doing this because I hate you, I do it because I love you.” with Shoto or Deku ?

Shoto/Darling: "I'm not doing this because I hate you, I do it because I love you."

Shoto hadn't ever felt love this intensely before. He loved his siblings, his mother, his friends, even his father; with ____ though, the love he felt was different. At some point he realized that whenever they smiled at him, his heart would race. When they looked at him his chest would tighten. Maybe this was what Mt. Lady had meant during that interview practice years ago, and ____ had a smile that could kill him. With how nice it felt when he was with them though, he wouldn't mind dying that way.

He didn't know how to tell them about these feelings, or even if he should. What if they didn't understand and they thought he was weird? They might start avoiding him. What if he messed up when he was confessing and didn't explain it right? He didn't even know how to explain to himself. Instead of telling them and risking their friendship being ruined, he decided that he'd just love them from afar until he knew how to confess to them just right.

It had started out small: catching glimpses at their phone messages, just to make sure they weren't texting anyone suspicious. Then he started asking them where they were all the time, and following them around when they were with other people--just so he can protect them in case something happens and make sure their other friends are on the level. When he couldn't watch over them, he'd make up for their absence by going into their apartment and imagining they're with him. Sometimes he'd take small little things for him to keep, like a little cut piece of their clothes or a tube of lip balm that tasted just like them.

As time went on, Shoto started to get more and more worried for them whenever they weren't with him. He couldn't concentrate on anything else and his coworkers would notice him staring off and looking concerned more often. It didn't help that his home felt so empty at night, and he'd find himself dreaming that they were sleeping in bed next to him--only for him to wake up disappointed and empty in the morning. He couldn't stand not seeing them without getting a lingering sense of worry in the back of his mind and a pit in his stomach. He had to keep ____ with him, keep them safe and protected where nobody could hurt them: no Villains, no Hero-killing Vigilantes, no vengeful older siblings that may go after them. Just him, ____, and...maybe a new member of the family at some point. His father always was pestering him about finding someone to settle down with and continue the family lineage--not that he cared much about his dad's wishes, but he didn't hate this particular one.

And after weeks and weeks of planning, setting up his apartment to become their apartment, he nervously texted them and asked if they could come over.

To: ____

____, I need to talk to you about something that's been on my mind. I can't say it over the phone, it needs to be face-to-face.

He'd gotten a response a few minutes later: "Are you okay, Shoto? I can be there in about 15 minutes." He quickly set a timer on his phone and walked through the apartment, making sure he had everything set up. His cue cards were in pocket for when he confessed his love for them, he had a few outfits "borrowed" from their closet to wear while he moved the rest of their things into his apartment, and...on the off chance that they reacted poorly, he had a pair of Quirk-cancelling cuffs in his back pocket to use if he needed to calm them down.

He ran a few fingers through his hair and nervously waited in the living room until he heard a knock at the front door. "Shoto?" ____'s voice was laced with concern. "I'm here. You okay?"

Shoto hurried to the door and opened it, and he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat; there was no way they could hear it thumping in his chest, right? "I'm...okay," he said uncertainly, closing (and locking) the door behind ____. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just need to talk to you about something. It's important."

____ sat down on the couch and looked up at him, still confused. "Oh. Okay," they replied. "You're sure you're alright? You look kind of pale."

Shoto sat next to them on the couch and fumbled for the cue cards in his pocket. He hoped he wouldn't mess this up. "Um...____." He cleared his throat. "We've known each other for a long time, and I can't say just how much you've made me happy ever since we met. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and even though these feelings are strange and new and even suffocating sometimes, I don't want them to go away." He glanced up at ____ to gauge their reaction. "I don't want you to go away."

____ tilted their head slightly and tried to peer at the cue cards with a small smile on their face. "So...this is what you wanted to tell me? That you...um, you like me like that?"

Shoto shook his head and took their hand. "Not just that," he insisted. "It's more. I love you." He saw ____'s smile grow a bit and he stared at them for a moment, so relieved by their reaction. They weren't mad at all. What was he so worried about? He set the cue cards aside and looked directly at them. "Sometimes I'll think about you and it just makes me feel so...nice. And, um...warm. I feel so grateful that you're in my life, and whenever you're not with me I get so worried about you. Sometimes I feel like I have to push down how bad it feels just to go to work, sleep, and eat without you with me."

"Worried?" Shoto's heart sank a bit when he saw them frown. Had he messed up? "Shoto, I appreciate the concern and..." ____ glanced away shyly as their lips turned up into a small smile again. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have feelings for you too, but I can take care of myself just fine. You don't need to be so concerned about it that you don't want to eat or sleep or anything!"

"But I do," Shoto insisted, taking their hand. "We're both Heroes, and you know how easy it is for something to happen before you have time to react. What if the building you're in collapses while you're on duty? Or a Villain targets you? Or you go out of your way to save a civilian in danger and you get yourself hurt or...or killed?" He squeezed ____'s hand and more and more words just started to spill out of him. "I don't want anyone else I care about to get hurt, especially you. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel so...so--"

"Shoto," ____ said, their voice wavering slightly. They'd never heard him talk or act like this before. "Breathe for a second, okay? I'm right here."

Shoto took a shaky breath and rubbed his thumb over the back of their hand. "Sorry. I know, I don't have to worry about that anymore since you're here with me." He looked at them and inched closer to them. "I'll keep you safe," he said firmly. "And as happy as possible. I promise."

____ waited a few seconds before trying to take their hand back. They didn't mind Shoto being affectionate, but he'd been touching them for a while; that odd little rant about how much he worried about them wasn't helping, either. "Uh...Shoto," ____ said, breaking the silence. "I like you and I'd be happy to date you, but...please don't worry so much about me when I'm not with you." They laughed awkwardly. "It's not like we can be together 24/7 even if we're dating, right?"

Shoto blinked at them silently. They liked him back, they'd just said it! They said they wanted to date him! But what did they mean with that last sentence? Were they joking or were they being serious? "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why couldn't we be together 24/7 if we were dating? I mean...I guess we wouldn't be able to be together while I'm at work, but I don't mind that since I know that you'll be here when I get home."

____ furrowed their brows. "What are you talking about? I don't live here, I've got my own--"

"I was going to call the movers after this," Shoto said bluntly. "It'll take a few days to bring everything here, but--"

____ pulled their hand away from him, and the suspicious and frightened look on their face left a pit in his stomach. "What the hell, Shoto? I'm not leaving my apartment. You just confessed to me less than a minute ago!" They glanced at the front door nervously, noticing that Shoto had locked and chained it. "I think I should go."

The instant they tried to get up off of the couch, Shoto's body seemed to just react on its own; he pinned them down and, desperate for any reason to make them want to stay, he pressed his lips against theirs in a kiss. ____'s scream was muffled against his mouth and he tried his hardest to keep them still. When he pulled away, he tried to explain and apologize and say...something. This was the worst way this could've gone. "I--"

"Get the fuck OFF me!"

____ kicked and flailed underneath him, but a career spent subduing criminals meant he knew just how to keep them underneath him. Shoto reached inside his back pocket for the Quirk-cancelling cuffs and expertly latched them around ____'s wrists in one stroke of his hand. ____ started to scream for help, but Shoto clamped a hand over his mouth and frantically tried to think of a way to get them to calm down. "____, please," he sighed. "I'm not mad, I promise. I'm not doing this because I hate you, I'm doing it because I love you. I won't hurt you, I promise, just please calm down." He looked down at them and wished that they didn't have tears in their eyes and that they weren't glaring at him like this. Their chest heaved as they panted and struggled underneath him; the hem of their shirt rode up to their stomach, and as Shoto looked at their smooth skin his eyes widened a bit. "H-here, I'll show you how much I love you."

He looked around for something to gag them with so he could use both of his hands freely, and he finally settled on an old tie that he'd planned on returning to the store he'd bought it from. Once he'd managed to tie it around ____'s mouth, he kissed their cheek and moved their shirt up to reveal their chest. They let out a choked sob as his lips wandered lower and lower: their neck, their collarbone, the valley of their chest, and then their stomach.

His fingers fumbled with the button of their jeans for a moment before pulling them down, and he stared in awe at them in their underwear. Even if they were tied up and bound, even if they were crying and trying to turn away from him, they still looked so pretty.

He leaned down and left one more kiss against their clothed slit. God, they were so warm and soft. Even through their clothes, he could feel the heat coming from them. He felt them twitch underneath his lips and heard them let out a small whine as he teased and kissed their most sensitive place, no longer having the energy to fight back as he spread their legs apart and pulled their underwear down.

He massaged the inside of their thighs and looked back up at them. "See? I'm not going to hurt you," he assured. "I just want to show you how much I love you, and then you'll understand." He nuzzled one of their thighs and leaned in to taste them directly, finally making all of his late-night dreams come true. "Let me show you."

#yandere bnha #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #.shoto #yandere shoto #.myshit #.queue #bnha #.bnha