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#wonder if i should pick more funny scavengers and try to do a full effort shitpost like those old paintings where there is a bunch of peopl
alexander-norkat · 3 months
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The Scav and the red spear
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zayashmaya · 5 years
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Gods and Monsters - 2 - Cruel World.
- part 1 is in my master list! -
Lanque Bombyx x Reader; SFW
You deal with the repercussions of post-pailing regrets and Lanque is a bitch.
Because you’re young, you’re wild, you’re free You dance in circles around me You’re fucking crazy Oh, oh You’re crazy for me
- Lana Del Rey
You bided your time with the Soleil twins after escaping the abandoned mansion together. Something told you that this was to be the end of your journey, and yet you were unwilling to come to terms with the depressing thought. So when the wilderness beckoned you to embark on another round of aimless wandering, you bit back the urge to answer its calls.
Barzum and Baizli were more than happy to distract you from your worries. Where once you shied away from them in fear, now you gleefully sat through their choreographed performances and entertained them in turn with stories of your adventures. You never imagined yourself to develop such a fondness for children, but all of the young trolls you had befriended sparked a bit of hope within you — no matter how bleak Alternian society might be, there were still remnants of innocence.
You wondered if the twins would have enjoyed Karako’s company. Did Bronya allow him to frequent his blood cast’s church?
Bronya. You should visit her soon; it’s been quite a while, and you have yet to check up on Lynera apart from the brief texts you exchanged during your stay with the twins. Perhaps you could play with the grubs — you needed to feel useful again.
Your body has been fairly useful. No. You were not going to think about that damn jadeblood.
You suggested a trip to the church in an effort to quell your ridiculous existential crisis. They were becoming embarrassingly frequent lately, and you could not afford to fall into a deep depression after having amassed so many wonderful friends. Why hadn’t you been relying more on them instead of flitting about like a social butterfly for superficial connections?
With a newfound determined attitude, you set off with the young trolls to find some sort of comfort in their strange religion. Chahut greeted you with a warm smile as you situated yourself on one of the rickety chairs and continued with her sermon. Barzum and Baizli were enthusiastically whispering to themselves about how much they had missed the church while trapped at the mansion, allowing you a moment of peaceful solitude. You leaned back in your chair and looked up at the multicolored ceiling, a light smile playing on your lips as you recalled hazy memories of a carousel, and falling into a blissful sleep with Karako in your arms.
A heavy thud came from the seat beside you. You tilted your head and saw Marvus’s easygoing expression staring back at you. “Waddup lil buddy, funny seein u here lol.”
You grinned in earnest now, happy to see your friend. And quite a handsome one, at that. “What can I say — this place just reels me in. I feel safe here, somehow.”
Marvus nodded slowly and patted your knee. “The mirthful messiahs b protektin us buddy.”
“Amen to that,” you replied, letting Chahut’s deep, droning gospel tether you to the moment.
The air was saturated with a sugary smell wafting from the purple candles on the altar. A tingling sensation creeped up your body, as though you wanted to join the other purplebloods in their honks and whoops at Chahut’s every word. You might be getting a bit high from the fumes.
Was it a sense of belonging that kindled the fire of elation within you? You felt like flying, reaching out past the colorful hues coating the ceiling to become one with the dark carnival all over again.
You have never felt more real.
Marvus’s comforting presence was all you needed in order to clear the fog of doubt that had plagued you. Somehow, you suspected he understood your place in the world far better than you did. Hadn’t he once talked about timelines and reality with you?
Or maybe you were too busy stuffing your face with food as he fed you, too captivated by his charm to really listen.
Wait, maybe you were remembering wrong. Marvus had definitely brought up the hemospectrum and the oppression of his cast.
You closed your eyes and slumped against him. Without question, his arm settled around your shoulders. You smiled to yourself and decided not to think about the past. There were new memories to be made, after all. And you had plenty of friends to make memories with.
-
Unfortunately, you would learn that new memories were to be made with trolls who were distinctly not your friends. One such person who had climbed his way to the top of the list was Lanque, and in a cruel twist of fate, you somehow managed to cross his path once more.
Your evening was supposed to be fun! Remele was hosting a party for highbloods to garner socialite points or whatever her reasoning had been; as soon as you heard about the dancing, you had stopped listening to details. Even your faux pas with regards to asking Tagora for fashion pointers had worked in your favor. He pampered you with a brand new dress and agreed to letting you use the iridescent lotion that had once made Galekh mistake you for a rainbow drinker, blushing all the while as he explained your mission — get some dirt on Remele to help him win his plagiarism case against her.
Would you do it? Would you sell out one friend in favor of another?
As you checked yourself out in Tagora’s full-length mirror, you decided to let luck guide your way. Since when have you ever been a planner, anyway. The furthest you’d gone with brilliant planning was to invite Stelsa with you, and boy did she squeal in glee at the offer. The two of you had taken great care in pampering each other at her home before heading out, and throughout your drive to Remele’s abode, you could not help grinning at how well things were going for you for once.
And here you currently found yourself, locked in a staring contest with Lanque from across the room. Oh, how lucky you were.
A bubbly ceruleanblood pressed close to him singlehandedly continued the conversation as he folded his arms and dragged his gaze along your body. He regarded you with the same distasteful sneer he threw at Lynera after roasting her. You hated how he managed to still look attractive with that sour face.
A passing partygoer broke the stare-off. When you managed to catch sight of him again, he was focusing all of his attention on his friend and blatantly ignoring you. Should you go confront him?
You chose to keep yourself busy instead. What good would it do to stir up complicated drama in the middle of a public event? Besides, you were trying to be classy for once in your life. You didn’t lather up your leg struts with Tagora’s elixir for nothing, after all. The old you, scavenging for scraps of clothing from dumpsters, was a thing of the past. Now, you were as close to presentable as you had ever been on this godforsaken planet, and damn it did you deserve a drink for all of your troubles.
Remele had excused herself some time ago to speak with Stelsa after the energetic troll had gone off on a ten minute tangent about loving her webcomic. Left by yourself and feeling uncharacteristically awkward, you made your way to a table with what you assumed to be refreshments, and reluctantly picked up the most appetizing drink available. It glowed a dull red hue and shimmered in the light. You prayed this wasn’t some sort of filtered blood before taking a small sip. A sharp fruity flavor coated your tongue, and you hummed in pleasure as you helped yourself to more.
“Careful there, don’t drink too much … lest you actually become un”. You peered over the lid of your cup. There he was, Lanque in all his bitchy glory, smirking down at you as the ceruleanblood clung to his arm and giggled at you with mortified curiosity.
You gripped your cup and sighed. “Hello, Lanque. Are we really doing this?”
His friend narrowed her eyes at you and haughtily asked, “Whaaat aaare you supposed to be? Aaa deformed lusus?” Lanque chuckled and earned a fawning look from her.
You rolled your eyes. “Never seen a rainbow drinker before, I take it.”
Her overdramatic gasp was music to your ears. But before the silly girl could hightail it out of the party, Lanque gripped her by the forearm and sneered, “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s the alien eVeryone’s been raVing about.” He cast a snooty look at you and added, "A Very underWhelming one.”
“Oh my, look aaat how red her faaace is turning! I caaan’t believe I missed spotting thaaat hideous blood, how silly of me!”
“See, darling? Underneath all that makeup, she’s quite the boring creature.”
If you held your cup any tighter, you might crush it. And spilling this presumably expensive drink all over your good friend’s flooring would hardly be appropriate, would it? You were not an uncouth person.
But you were not the most tactful person, either.
“How am I boring, exactly?” you asked through gritted teeth, loathing the fact that your height forced you to look up at his smirking, punchable, beautiful face. “You hardly know me.”
”Hardly?” A tittering laugh escaped him as he hid his cruel smile behind a hand. “As I recall it, We became fairly intimately acquainted, last We met.”
”Whaaat!” his friend shrieked, pulling at Lanque's arm with such gusto that his polished facade cracked into a displeased grimace. “Whaaat does thaaat mean, deaaar? You paaailed with this — this ugly thing?!”
“It Was certainly … a Very interesting experience.”
You thought you had grown accustomed by now to how repulsed most trolls were by your human physique. But Lanque had seen you at your most vulnerable, he had even seemed somewhat into you during your tryst, and now he had the nerve to mock you like this? You didn’t know whether to scream or cry. You chose to set down your drink on the table instead, ruefully looking away.
“The novelty of it all Wore off quite fast,” he continued, leering at you as he spoke. “She just Wasn’t that good — “
And suddenly, a very unfriendly retort tore its way out of you, like a sweltering bile of pent up anger that could no longer be contained.
“Like you were any better.”
Lanque’s smile faltered.
The flood gates broke open.
“Don’t you dare stand there and act all high and mighty, like you were some kind of blessing I squandered,” you hissed, stalking up to him with each bitter word. “You didn’t even get me off!” 
A peel of snickering broke through the ensuing silence. Lanque stared down at you with such a blank expression that, for a split second, you wondered if your words were getting through to him at all. But the rising jade colored flush staining his cheeks, the contracted pupils and quickened breathing brought you a sickening sense of justice.
When had you become so aggressive?
“Was it because you didn’t feel like putting any effort into it?” you asked, secretly wishing for an answer. "Or because you’re so used to getting what you want that you don’t know how to care about anyone other than yourself?”
“Oh my …” the ceruleanblood whispered in a sing-song voice as she looked between you two, and you were seconds away from snapping at this invasive bitch before Lanque’s eyes flickered behind you, and a large hand settled over your shoulder.
“Hey there lil mama,” a familiar voice rumbled above you.
That smooth tone instantly lulled you into a happier mood. “Marvus,” you greeted with a smile, looking up at him and feeling your heart swell at his dopey grin.
“Wuz wondering if u’ll be bustin thiz shitshow,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you. “Now it’s a par-tayyy!”
You heard excited whispers in the distance — no doubt Lanque’s friend losing her cool over Marvus’s arrival. A small part of you desperately wanted to see Lanque’s reaction as well, but you were utterly done with him.
“I’m just here for the dancing,” you replied, ignoring someone’s rude scoff and focusing on how Marvus’s thumb ran circles along the divot between your neck and shoulder.
“ ♥ And you certainly look the part ♥ ,” another voice chimed in near you. A very unwelcome voice. The voice of someone who was arguably more horrible than everyone in this room combined.
You glanced at Zebruh as he winked at you and threw you a shark-like smile that chilled you to the bone. Oh, what wonderful friends you have. “Zebruh, th — thank you,” you stammered, inching backwards until you felt Marvus’s solid form against you. “What are you doing here?”
“My dear, I am a connoisseur of the arts, a true patron and supporter of Alternia’s most brilliant artist,” he raved, and turned his adoring gaze to Marvus. Knowing what you know now about how the purplebloods perceived him, you bit back a giggle. “ ♥ But when I found out Alternia’s greatest musician would be here as well, I simply could not resist making an appearance! ♥ “
“Aw thx lol,” Marvus quickly said. You could hear the strain in his voice, and decided to pat his hand gently. The poor man just could not catch a break from his crazy fans.
Lanque’s eyes followed your hand movement, much to your ignorance. His friend chose this precise moment to bounce up to Marvus in unrestrained glee, unable to hold in her excitement any longer. “I — I just — I waaannaaa saaay how much I love your work aaand aaand aaand I love you!” she cried out, gripping her hands together as though in prayer.
Zebruh was on her — and by association, Lanque — in an instant, sidling up between them. He tutted your name in displeasure and said, “Now, don’t be rude. ♣ Who are these two lovely guests? ♣ ” His hands settled on both of their shoulders, and they reeled back in opposite directions, with the ceruleanblood struggling to escape and Lanque baring his fangs in a wide snarl. You almost felt bad for him.
“Get your fucking hand off — “
“Yo dog why don’t u keep ‘em bizzay while me and the lil shorty buzz off for a bit k thx,” Marvus butted in, and suddenly you were being lifted off the ground and cradled against his broad chest and your mind was short circuiting from the drama of it all. You love your clown friends so much.
You whispered a grateful thank you to your savior and peeked over his shoulder one last time. Lanque had managed to dislodge himself from Zebruh’s hold while the blueblood petulantly sulked off after the girl.
And when you finally met his hardened stare, you could have sworn a hint of color bloomed across his face once more. He must be really angry by now, you wondered as you were led away. Maybe you managed to make him jealous of Marvus for stealing you.
Yeah right, you sardonically thought. More like he was jealous of you for being swept up by a gorgeous highblood.
“U lookin’ fiiine tonite babe,” Marvus quietly said into your ear.
You looped your arms around his neck and smiled to yourself.
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rensfic · 7 years
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Coming to Save You, Part VI
    “Are you serious?”
    “Yes, I’m serious. How d’you think I got into Avengers Tower in the first place? You ever seen anyone else scavenging that place?”
    “Where were you?”
    “One of Vault-Tec’s icebox vaults.”
    “Ohhhh, shit! They had one up here too?”
    “Yeah. We were supposed to be the superheroes and their families who got frozen for comparison to the Boston group.”
    “You the only one who came out? I heard the only one who came out of the Boston one is just tearing the Commonwealth up right now.”
    “Nah. I got everyone out okay. These raiders were letting people out of the pods one by one so they could kill them for fun.”
    “Huh. They’re in a cell somewhere, right?”
    “Yeah. A cell in the tower. Just like these guys are about to be, whether or not you help me.”
    The Duke stared at the two of them, who had suddenly become incredibly chatty. He’d never seen the red-suited mercenary like this before. He stood from his chair, letting out a low noise of disapproval.
    “You ladies just gonna stand there gossiping all day?”
    All Wade did was turn just long enough to shoot the Duke in the leg, then turned back to Spider-Man as though nothing had happened.
    “No, no I hear you. This is fantastic. I’ll help you round ‘em up. I can’t believe you’re back, Spidey baby! This is gonna be so cool.” And then he leaps back into action, feeling a warm bubble rise up in his chest. Hope is not a feeling he is used to, and yet here it is, swelling like a balloon that couldn’t actually fit in him. It’s a little suspicious, actually-- how long until it all collapses and he’s miserable again? But his other side tells him that he can at least enjoy this while it lasts, because hell, if two hundred years of misery would never turn to joy at some point, then it stands to reason that two hundred years of joy would never end, either. And he knows for a fact that joy ends eventually. And so must misery.
    Peter, on the other hand, feels a little cautious. He’s done the Wade dance before and was never fully convinced that he really wanted to go clean-- he always seemed to hesitate a bit, and if his role in the Duke’s court is any indication, he hasn’t tried very hard to give it up in the last two hundred years he thought Spider-Man was dead, either.
    “Go get them, then,” he says, standing there, wondering if Wade would actually turn on his employer for this. Then again, he had shot him in the leg. Oh, it is too much. He had to go back to his center. He closes his eyes. It is not Peter Parker’s job to fix Wade Wilson, he tells himself, trying to imagine his uncle’s voice speaking to him. If Wade Wilson wants to change, then Peter Parker can help him, but until he does and makes the effort for it, it is not Peter Parker’s job to do anything.
    When he opens his eyes, every member of the Duke’s gang is laid at his feet, tied in what must be at least fifty feet of rope that Wade got from God knows where. He wouldn’t put it past him to put emergency caches everywhere, so he supposes it makes sense.
    Wade himself stands just behind the mass of about fifteen people, watching Peter for his reaction. At first, it doesn’t look like there is any. He just stands there, looking at the pile. Then he turns, and it’s difficult to tell how he feels from his flattened voice, but Wade thinks he might sound a little surprised, and happy.
“Thanks. Let’s get them inside.”
It’s not a bad place to start. He knows what Peter is thinking and he’s right about it. Wade has let himself go too much. That ends today, he decides.
    When he steps into the tower again after all those years, Wade feels almost like he is being reborn. It’s funny to him that he never feels changed or reborn when he dies and comes back to life-- but just stepping into this ancient temple of Do-Gooderism has that effect on him. The dust is everywhere but he can still feel the half-beating heart of Nick Fury’s original vision for the building. Obviously, this is the perfect time to start cracking jokes.
    “Hey, can I try out the shield? I feel like it’s being wasted if it’s just sitting in here not being used.”
    “No, but if you feel that way, I’ll grab it and try it out for you.”
    “You know what? That’s even better. He’d have wanted you to have it.”
    “That… was an unusually sensitive thing for you to say, Wade.”
    “I have my moments.”
    Peter is quiet now as he steps through the high-ceilinged galleries toward the elevator that will take him down to the cells. The gaggle of rough-looking men behind him dodder along, looking around inside the tower they’d seen from the outside but had never managed to break into. There’s weaponry they could never even dream of sitting in stalls and on shelves and hangers. Colorful suits that look like they could stop a car. Cars that can probably both fly and dive into water judging by the fins.
Their captor pulls them along with unusual strength for just one guy who isn’t a super mutant toward a set of doors, chatting with their former employee as though they’ve known each other for years. Inside the doors they find a prison filled with more raiders-- not their gang, but ones that lurked around in the same area. Nobody dangerous enough for them to have gone after. The Spider had gotten to them first.
“Like one of those old pre-war comics,” Cutter says thoughtfully, before the guy yanks her and her boss and their crew into a cell all of their own. The man in the red and blue suit slams the door shut and puts his hand to a gel pad to lock them in.
“This is one of the pre-war comic books. I’m pre-war. I’m the Spider-Man they made those out of.”
Wade doesn’t think his dick can get any harder as Spider-Man walks away from them after saying that and closes the door behind him while they stare at him with faces full of shock. Once the door is closed, Peter slumps a little, sliding down the door onto the ground, looking like jelly. He takes his mask off and Wade’s heart jumps a little. He’s never taken it off in front of him before. He supposes the whole ‘they might kill my family and friends to get to me’ thing is a moot point now that all of that having-family-and-friends business is over for him. And if Wade’s a friend, he’s definitely not a friend that anyone can kill.
Peter scratches his head, which makes his hair floof up a little, and looks up at Wade. “Are there a lot of guys like that out here?”
“Just about everywhere you go. After the law fell apart people stopped giving a shit. With a few exceptions. Like you.”
“But not you.”
“No. Not me.”
“Why not? I thought you were trying to change when the bombs dropped.”
Wade fights the impulse to defend himself.
“I… forgot what it meant to try to be better. I used to know but I forgot. I was never really good at that stuff. I think my brain didn’t have the right part for it. Situations would come up where I’d ask, ‘what would Spider-Man do?’ And I’d have no idea. I know what you’d do if a guy was robbing a jewelry store or mugging an old lady, but what would you do if you had two guys who looked identical and both of them said the other was a synth and was trying to kill them? What about if you found out that an amazing life-giving program that could potentially help people by restoring crops and water had a side effect of turning its users into plant monsters? What about a paramilitary organization that opposed a huge empire of slavers who killed innocent people to prove their own warped viewpoint, but then turned around and took food from starving people under the pretense of saving them? What about an asshole who cuts off fingers from farmers who can’t pay him, but you know that he’s the only thing stopping an even worse asshole across the river in Jersey from taking over?”
His voice starts to get high and desperate, and the fidgeting of his hands says volumes about his vulnerability right now. “When you were around and the other Avengers were around, I could just copy you, or you know, copy what the hero is old movies would do. But I never had the thing where you can figure out what you should do when you have a totally new situation in front of you. So, that’s why I was happy to see you-- or, part of the reason, anyway. So you can tell me what to do again.” And his voice becomes hopeful again.
Peter stares at him for a few moments, trying to wrap his head around the idea that someone else depends on outside input for moral decisions. “Oh… kay… that’s… kind of a big burden, right? I mean, I can’t just tell you what to do.”
“No, you absolutely can. You should start with the guy across the river, though. Somebody has to do something about him.”
“Well, capture him? And bring him here.”
“What if there’s another guy after that? And the guy across the river is protecting people from that one?”
“...We’ll deal with him if and when he pops up. One thing at a time. Wow, this really is a mess. Nobody’s set up any defenses at all?”
“For who?”
“The farmers! The farmers who need protection from the raiders.”
“First we’d need to pick a spot to defend and put them there. That’ll probably involve killing some super mutants or ghouls or something.”
“Isn’t that literally your favorite thing to do?”
“Oh, hey, it is! Okay, Spidey baby, brave leader, where should we set up this camp?”
“Somewhere nearby so I can be there if they’re attacked. Central Park! It’d be perfect. There’s water there and plenty of land to grow food on. We could fortify it and probably have a pretty big community there.”
“Huh. Yeah, alright. I’ve been living in the Tavern on the Green for years now, so I’d be on location too.”
“Even better. The way those guys were talking, nobody would attack a settlement you were guarding.”
“Yeah, they probably wouldn’t. I haven’t had any problems so far. I’d need help setting up generators and water filtration and stuff.”
“Okay. You just… go to Central Park, and get rid of anything violent that would hurt people. Start building fences and walls. That kind of stuff. I’ll start going through the materials here. There’s probably some helpful things. Could probably even build some turrets or something.”
“That’s unusually violent for you, Spider-Man.”
“BB pellets won’t hurt them much, and it’d distract them a bit while I dealt with them.”
“Ohhh. Of course. So… you’d be moving in over there?”
“Yeah. Looks like it. It’ll be a lot easier to protect everyone in one location, I’ll tell you that much. Especially without police radio to listen to for leads.”
“But if they manage to crack the defenses there, they’ll have everybody in the area under their control and defenseless.”
“Oh. Right. So… an escape tunnel?”
“Sure, if you can be sure you can safeguard it against intrusion. They work both ways.”
“An escape tunnel into Avengers Tower, with a sealing mechanism that only opens from the inside or by one of us from the outside.”
“Yeah, that should work… that way if one of us gets knocked out of commission they can still get out when the danger’s gone. Sounds like we have some work to do.”
    “Yeah. I’ll get started on the drafting. You go out and visit some of the nearby settlements, see if any of them are interested in helping us start a community. The best defended one on the east coast.”
    “We’ll have to beat Diamond City for that. They set up in Fenway Park, something like a hundred and fifty years ago. Those big stadium walls do a lot to keep dangerous stuff out.”
    “That’s genius. Has anyone done the same thing with Yankee Stadium?”
    “Yeah, a big gang of raiders.”
    “We’ll have to look at digging them out and replacing them later. But for now, one thing at a time. I need you to secure the park and find farmers and supplies to help us start. Seeds, metal, concrete, anything you can find so I can build what we need.”
    Wade gives him a salute, and then pauses.
    “So… you finally took off your mask. What gives?”
    “Nobody here knows who I am anymore. The villains here target everyone on sight… it’s hard to imagine a raider getting pissed at me personally and going after anyone I’m close to. So there’s no point.”
    “I mean, I don’t recognize you either.”
    Peter laughs. “I was a photographer for the Daily Bugle. That’s why they always had those amazing shots of me.”
    Now Wade is laughing too. “No way! You must’ve had the highest blood pressure in the city, dealing with that editor.
“I might’ve! It was worth the cash though. Nobody could do what I did.”
“That’s still true.”
“Aww, thanks. Uh. My name’s Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.”
“Petey pie!”
“Oh, my God.”
“Petey pie, Petey pie, Petey pie…” Wade sings and dances his way out of the tower while Peter rolls his eyes and looks for his drafting supplies.
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