The Second Coming.

As was prophesized, The Son returned to Earth. He showed up without warning or fanfare, in a small suburban neighborhood.

The Reckoning and Revelation had arrived. The Son would judge the wicked, and bring about the End of Days.

He was only one man, but He had all the time in the world.

The Son walked through the streets, sensing the souls of the wicked. He ascended the front steps of a nearby home, His linen robes dragging across the concrete.

With a swift motion, He tore the house’s door from its hinges. Two men inside the living room jumped from the couch, alarmed at the intruder.

They were sinners and they would be judged.

Ignoring their cries and questions, The Son walked slowly up to the first man. With a crushing strength, He reached out and grabbed the man’s throat, squeezed, and let the lifeless body tumble to the floor.

The other man wailed and threw himself at The Son. But his protests were in vain, as The Son’s divine strength forced him through the wall.

Calmly, The Son walked out of the house and continued His work.

In another home, a Righteous woman screamed and cried as The Son crushed the skull of her sinful daughter.

As He was leaving the next house, the sound of sirens filled the air. Police cruisers with flashing lights pulled up, blocking The Son’s forward path.

Officers drew guns and took cover behind their cars.

The Son ignored their warnings and walked toward them slowly, inexorably.

When the police opened fire, the bullets bounced harmlessly off His divine skin and immaculate robes.

The Son stepped toward the nearest officer, ignoring the projectiles which struck His face. With irresistible strength, He wrenched the gun out of the stunned officer’s hands.

Methodically, The Son turned and fired the police-pistol, hitting each officer with a single divinely-guided round. Their bodies littered the streets. The policeman who had been disarmed stared up at The Son, but was left unharmed.

The Son continued His journey. It was slow and brutal, and utterly unstoppable by the forces of man.

News spread, and the nations mobilized against Him. However, He easily resisted their efforts. The Son would melt through steel doorways, rip apart tanks, and ignore even the most high-powered gunfire.

Some began to worship Him.

When He found Himself surrounded by throngs of Innocents and Righteous souls, The Son would simply disappear—reappearing somewhere else on the globe to continue His work.

He became a fact of life, an irresistible force on the planet. Entire societies changed. Some ended their lives before The Son could reach them, but millions more repented.

Religions became totalitarian. Governments became theocracies. Unbelievers were forcibly converted or killed. Holy-Wars raged across the globe.

Before long, the world enveloped itself in nuclear hellfire.

Year later, as survivors huddle together in burned-out wrecks, scavenging for sustenance, they will sometimes see a lone figure on the horizon—swaddled in clean linen robes, walking slowly toward them.

anonymous asked:

Rusame prompt: "no homo" bros where everyone knows they're a couple except them

I present you a variation upon the theme:

RusAme Canonverse, Rated T

America will admit that it’s not the first time he’s had a bag thrown over his head and shoved into a car. It probably won’t be the last either.

He’d been walking home after sitting at the World War II memorial as purple dusk was swooped up by black night, watching the water light up in the night and let the fountains whisper some calm into his bones. He liked to sit there and think after bureaucracy managed to chip away at his soul a little too much. It always managed to realign him and by the end when he could think straight again he’d stand up give a nod of thanks and a wry salute to Lincoln in the distance. Tired at that point, America had cut through the lawn and down a dark street, away from the glittering waters of the Potomac and to the hot den of the Metro.

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i understand jonsa shippers who want the fall in love and all that jazz. But really people think it hard:  The political marriage is SO much better, love in got world doesnt  last.  I want both Jon and Sansa ( especially sansa) to survive. Let them have a Cat and Ned type of marriage ( the best romance on the show for me). Besides just like Cat and Ned had to overcome Ned bringing home a bastard (jon). Jon and Sansa can overcome their incesty thing, with time and peace ( and lots of children who grow up in winterfell.. One is named Thorrien).  I am happy if jon and dany fall in love because thats mean there is NO way they get married and live happily ever after. NO way . too happy. its not grrm style. 

and to people who say that the starks wont do the incesty  thing: 

“ By what right does the wolf judge the lion? “ - Jaime Lannister  

( i see as a foreshadow stark incest..but that is just me lol) 

Sometimes I wonder
where exactly it was
that I lost myself?

When did I let myself go
deep into that darkness,
when had I made my home
in the abyss

if I never found solid ground
I never had to be unsteady,
after all,
falling is the same as flying
if it never ends.

But when,
when did this world
lose its hold on me,
when did I open my hands
and let it tumble from my fingers
like the sifting grains of sand,

when did I see a rising sun
and only notice the way
night still clung
to the other half of the world.

Torchwood Fest: Day 10

Torchwood Fest: Day 10 Favourite Alien or Rivarly

Ianto was going through some files when Owen tapped his fingers on his desk. He looked up, acknowledged the man’s presence with a nod, then got back to his work.

“Okay the girls went home, how about we head to my local?”

“What?” Ianto asked, frowning.

“Well do you want to come? You’re always here, just chill for one evening. The world’s not going to end, and you can set an alarm on your PDA. Come on, I just want to grab a drink. Is that bad?”

“With me?” Ianto said sceptically.

“Yeah, with you.”

“Why?” he asked, genuinely surprised that Owen would think of him to hang out. They weren’t in the best terms and if Jack leaving without a note had forced them to work together a bit more, Ianto still had shot him less than a couple of weeks before, which Owen never hesitated to remind him.

“God, just accept,” Owen sighed. “I’m fine if you don’t come but I thought we could… Oh, forget about it.”

“No, it’s okay. It might do me some good to leave the Hub.”

Ianto hadn’t said it to anyone, but he slept at the Hub since Jack had left. He didn’t want anything to happen while everyone was out, and he didn’t sleep much anyway, so a quick nap on the couch before the other arrived in the morning allowed him to keep going for the day.

He turned off the Hub for the night and walked out with Owen, both silent. Ianto really had no idea why Owen had thought about him, of all people, to hang out with, and wondered if he had ulterior thoughts, but he couldn’t think of what.

They were silent for a part of the night, drinking an entire pint before Owen eventually spoke. “So, how are you holding?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I don’t know,” Owen answered and it seemed honest. The silence that followed was awkward and Owen sighed. “I feel like we have a problem communicating.”

“Maybe because we’re both not much of talkers.”

“No, I mean, really.”

“I don’t know, Owen. Maybe because we’re the two guys in the team.”

“Why would that be a problem? And there’s Jack.”

“Jack’s different.”

“True. But still, why is it a problem?”

“Because you need to…” Ianto began, but didn’t quite finish his sentence.

“I need to…?”

“Feel superior,” he shrugged. “You’re just like this. I’m not saying that I mind or that it’s wrong, but it doesn’t help.”

“Well you’re not helping either,” Owen grumbled. It wasn’t an argument at all but it was Owen, Ianto didn’t expect more.


“I don’t know, looking good in those damn suits.”

“Are you jealous?” The thought seemed absurd.

“Of you? No,” Owen scoffed.

“And you got Gwen, you shouldn’t even think of me as concurrence. I wouldn’t do that.”

“You got into Jack’s pants.”

“That’s not something good. He ran off.”

“Well Gwen’s in a relationship. You shot me.”

“You disobeyed direct orders.”

“You hid someone for weeks.”

“I loved Lisa.”

“Loved? You cheated on her.”

“Love. I never cheated on her.”

“Are you sure? Anyway, my shoulder still hurts. And that cyberwoman knocked me off.”

“I don’t know. Poor boy, you need a kiss?”

“Fuck you,” Owen grumbled, breaking their verbal sparring.

“Don’t play the ‘whose life is more miserable?’ game, you’d be surprised,” Ianto rolled his eyes.

“Secrets to hide?”

“Not really. You?”


“Why are we doing this?”

“Team bonding. I was engaged once,” Owen said. That one threw Ianto off. He knew most of Torchwood employees’ life, but Owen had never talked about this directly. “She died,” Owen added when he saw that Ianto wasn’t answering.

“Lisa died. Twice, in a way.”

“She had an alien in her brain.”

“I fought during the Canary Wharf battle.”

“I helped survivors out of Canary Wharf.”

“You didn’t help me.”

“You were too busy betraying your country.”

“I was one of the twenty-seven survivors.”

“You still ran away.”

“We’re eighteen survivors now.”

“But you survived and found a new life. Are you happy?”

“So all of this to ask me that?” Ianto smiled.

“Not really. Are you?”



“I’ve got an annoying colleague, a lover that’s gone, and a confused mind to make work. I also have to keep running the Hub while Gwen and the same annoying colleague I already mentioned – that’s you, in case you were wondering – are fighting over who would lead when this isn’t the question.”

“What’s the question then?”

“Questions. Will Jack come back? When? Can we keep running Torchwood without him? Do we need to hire someone new? How to share the job so everyone still work efficiently? Who should be the leader because we still need someone with a stronger vote in a matter? Was Jack hiding anything we should know about? Should we establish turns to watch the Hub? Do we say that Jack is gone? Do we wait? If so, how long? Can I keep lying to the Queen forever? To UNIT? Should I keep going, or have you had enough?”

“Bloody hell, you’re working too hard…” Owen stuttered, in awe.

“I’m trying to keep the Hub running. While you’re arguing over who deserves to command.”

“And what do you think of that particular matter?”

“Tosh is competent, but not a leader. You’re too stubborn and disorganised to be the boss. You’d rely too much on each of our advices, only to ignore them in the end. Gwen is too stubborn and wants to know too much, but at least she’s able to lead and doesn’t ignore our opinions. Well she sometimes does, but not as much as you,” Ianto shrugged. If Owen had decided to be honest, he would be too.

“Fair enough. You could make a great leader.”

Ianto smiled but shook his head. “I don’t want it.”

“So we should let Gwen lead?”

“Not lead all by herself. We’re a team. But basically, yeah, she could lead.”

“That’s smart.”

“It hadn’t crossed your mind?”

“Not really…”

“Oh my God Owen, you’re worse than I’d have thought.”

“Humpf. I was shot, I’m still confused sometimes.”

“Will you ever stop?” Ianto rolled his eyes. “You’re worse than a five years old.”

Owen didn’t answer but sipped at his new and third pint, whereas Ianto had stopped drinking. After a moment of a more pleasant silence than before, Owen looked at Ianto again.

“Okay. But my father died when I was twenty-two.”

“I was seventeen,” Ianto rolled his eyes, not even knowing why he was picking up on Owen’s stupid game. “And my mother died a few months ago.”

“Oh fuck it,” Owen dramatically sighed. “Well you’ve got a shittier life than me, happy?”

“Very,” Ianto answered ironically. “I’ll be heading home now if you don’t need me,” he continued, standing up.

“Did you love him?” Owen nevertheless asked before he could walk away.

Ianto knew the question had been burning Owen’s lips for a while now, and he almost ignored him, but chose to answer. “Maybe I do,” he shrugged.

“I’m sorry he left.”

“It’s none of our fault. I’m fine, Owen.”

“Yeah like I cared,” Owen scoffed in his drink. “See you.”

“Good night,” Ianto smiled politely.

For the first time in a long time, Ianto actually went back to his flat alone, where he slept but didn’t rest. And he tried to appreciate Owen a bit more, and Owen tried as well, even if none of them said anything, and maybe their team-working improved a bit.

Hooked on a feeling

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2dsIZJo

by The_Jokers_Puppeteer

In a normal world, where Mika and Yu have parents, homes, and are still best friends. When Mika gets a boyfriend, Yu doesn’t realise he’s jealous.

Words: 1708, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2dsIZJo
We’d hoped vaguely to fall in love but hadn’t worried much about it, because we’d thought we had all the time in the world. Love had seemed so final and so dull – love was what ruined our parents. Love had delivered them to a life of mortgage payments and household repairs; to unglamorous jobs and the fluorescent aisles of a supermarket at two in the afternoon. We’d hoped for love of a different kind, love that knew and forgave our human frailty but did not miniaturize our grander ideas of ourselves. It sounded possible. If we didn’t rush or grab, if we didn’t panic, a love both challenging and nurturing might appear. If the person was imaginable, then the person could exist.
—  Michael Cunningham, “A Home at the End of the World”

Welcome to my home.  You were very kind to help me.  You must be tired.

Okay so I’ve been fleshing out this spooky oni Hanzo + monster hunter McCree au in which Hanzo seduces his unwitting victims into the ruins of his estate on the fringes of Hanamura where he consumes them for sustenance.  McCree’s a huge supernatural nerd who’s been chasing monsters all over the world but always comes away disappointed because they end up being not much more than folk tales or a weird dog someone thought looked like the chupacabra in the dark, but while in Japan he hears rumors of this tiny village with a big missing-person problem, an elusive figure in white, and a place deep in the woods where reality starts to shift.  So of course he goes to investigate while not expecting to find much by this point, but on his way back from the bar on his first night in town, he sees a kind of weird but very attractive man in white silk standing on the side of the road.  He looks like he’s waiting patiently for someone.  McCree’s sure now that either people are just hyping up the local oddball for fun or he’s a flesh-and-blood serial killer so he tentatively humors Hanzo “I’m night-blind” Shimada’s plea to escort him home.  DUN DUN DUN

The first panel is a screencap redraw of Kaneto Shindo’s Kuroneko, which I basically stole the entire setup from because it’s a beautiful ghost story and you should watch it.

There’s a sequel