you could do this to name children too

There were feathers in the hallway.

Tony blinked down at them slowly, then began picking them up. They were purple, a deep, rich hue, and each feather was as long as his forearm. He took a moment to be very, very glad that his parents were on trips and that Jarvis and Ana were out shopping, because he’d never be able to explain these.

There was a trail of them. Tony followed them, stooping to pick up each feather, because it wouldn’t do to for someone to stumble over any of them. It was… an awful lot of feathers. Like an alarming amount of feathers. He could probably make a suit of them.

They led to one of the guest rooms.

Tony should probably call someone. He remembered when Natasha had come into the mansion, how dangerous it had been. Natasha had told him that the only reason it had worked out so well for him was because he’d surprised her. Still, he was eighteen now. He should be able to handle it.

The feathers led to the closet.

Tony was never going to understand why these guys liked closets so much. Bucky and Steve had tried to explain it but he didn’t get it. Natasha hadn’t even bothered trying, just shrugged and said “I like it there.” He’d understood that a lot better than anything Steve and Bucky had said.

Tony stopped halfway into the guestroom, calling out, “Hello?”

There was a shuffling sound behind the door, but then silence.

He took another step closer. “He–llo! I heard you moving in there!”

The shuffling sound came again, then a noise like claws on wood.

Tony swallowed thickly, clutching the bundle of feathers to his chest. “…I’m not leaving until you come out!”

The door burst open so fast that he only had time to scream before whatever had been in it was on top of him.

Bucky and Steve fell out of the closet, scrabbling at the floor and leaving gouges in the wood. When they skidded out into the hallway they saw a giant black spider crawling across the wall, the red hourglass on its belly shining ominously as it leapt over doorways.

Bucky and Steve caught up to her a few seconds later, skidding over the floors. It was worrying, that they’d only heard that one scream. What if Tony couldn’t scream again? What if he–what if Tony was–

They crashed through the doorway, tearing the door off its hinges.

“Help,” Tony sobbed, hands bleeding around the barbed chain he was clutching. “Help! It’s hurting him!”

They stopped in shock. The hulking feathered figure in front of the human was trembling, one wing forced straight up by the chain, the other pinned against its side. Half of the feathers on the extended wing were just… shaved off. Some feathers were even cut in half, and the barbed chain was digging into the flesh hard enough that blood was starting to rise beneath it. It took a lot to pierce a monster’s skin.

Natasha swept over to him, form shifting so she had hands, one pair grabbing at the chain while the other carefully but firmly peeled Tony’s free. “Let go,  Котенок. It’s hurting you, too.”

“Natasha help!” Tony exclaimed, sobbing again.

“I’m helping, Котенок. You need to move.”

Steve slithered over to wrap his arms around the brunet as Bucky leapt forward to help Natasha, tail wrapping around his legs so he couldn’t lunge forward again. “Shhh. Tony, let them work.”

Tony turned so he could cry into his chest. “He couldn’t even ask me for help! He made–he made this terrible sound, Steve, it was awful–”

“It’s not–we’re going to tear his fucking wing off,” Bucky muttered, hands shifting, tugging lightly along the chain.

Natasha hissed quietly in sympathy as the feathered mass let out a long whine, wing shuddering. “We might just have to let it happen. This is a Death Chain. Maybe sacrificing a wing would be better.”

“No!” Tony exclaimed, pulling back and wiping his eyes. “I can–I’ll go get bolt cutters! We can cut it off!”

The monsters looked at each other before Bucky asked, “Will that work?”

Natasha shrugged. “I’ve never seen it, but then I’ve never had a human care.”

“I’ll go get bolt cutters,” Tony repeated, determined, and ran from the room.

Steve slithered over and gently curled his fingers under the chain as well. “You said you’ve seen these before?”

“Not everyone thinks monsters in the closet are an adorable fairy tale to soothe their children about,” Natasha answered coldly. “This isn’t the worst I’ve seen.”

The monster let out another whine, other wing trying to shove out from under the chain and shaving off a few feathers.

“Whoa, buddy!” Bucky exclaimed, reaching out to shove his wing back down. “Calm down! We’re trying to help you!”

Tony came running back into the room. “I brought two!”

Steve grabbed one of them from his arms and flipped it around. “Just tell me where to cut.”

“Um–uh–” Tony circled the monster anxiously, fingers trailing over the chain. “Here? Here. Steve, here!”

Steve lifted the bolt cutters and Tony helped him slide them into place. It took more effort than the human had expected, and one of the handles broke off. Tony started to hand him the second bolt cutter, but Steve just grabbed the blades and squeezed them together with his hand.

Tony would have gaped, but he was too busy trying to pull the broken link of chain out. Once it was free he said, “Okay, okay, you can pull–”

Do not pull,” Natasha ordered immediately. “We need to pick the barbs out or we’ll do just as much damage.”

“Okay,” Tony answered, voice small, and obediently began picking the barbs out of the monster’s skin.

It took a while, but eventually Bucky picked out the last barb and the chain fell to the ground with a dull clank. Then Natasha carefully pulled the feathers on the monster’s head back, away from his face.

“…Thanks,” he managed to grit out, voice gravely.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked, reaching out to push more of his feathers back.

The monster’s wings shifted, and then a pair of talon-tipped hands appeared out of the feathers, catching his wrists. “Blood is very hard to get out without water,” he croaked, then reached out to cup the human’s cheeks. “I scared you. I’m sorry.”

Tony sniffled quietly. “It’s okay.”

His name was Clint. He’d escaped from a circus and he’d meant to keep running but the chains had gotten too tight, and the mansion was so close. He hadn’t meant to come bursting out of the door so fast, he’d just tripped and flapping his one good wing had been the only thing he could do to keep from falling and tightening the chains further.

“I was supposed to scare children,” Clint said, voice much less gravely now that he’d had time to breathe properly and they’d given him water and a can of sardines. “I don’t like to do that.”

Natasha didn’t look up from winding bandages around Tony’s bruised and lacerated hands. “How does that feel?”

“Hurts,” Tony admitted quietly.

“You’re lucky a barb didn’t go right through your hand,” Bucky muttered, peering through fridge. “Steak?”

“I haven’t had beef in… decades. So maybe not,” Clint answered. He gave Tony a long, appraising look. “Most humans wouldn’t start trying to pull a barbed chain off something after it basically attacked them.”

Steve snorted from where he was carefully pulling the other man’s feathers so they were facing the right way. “Most humans don’t walk up to a monster and offer them soup when she could easily eat him.” He paused at the man’s wing, where most of his feathers had been cut off, before quietly asking, “Will they grow back?”

“…Probably,” Clint said after a bit too long. He looked back at Tony. He looked like a person that hadn’t been scared as a child. “If I could just have a few days to rest, I can get out of your hair.”

“You don’t need to go,” Tony hurried to say. “The mansion’s big! You can pick any room!”

Bucky sighed loudly. “You won’t be happy until you’ve adopted every monster you can, will you?”

“He’s hurt,” Tony exclaimed indignantly. “And whoever might still be chasing him! They can’t get to him here!”

“Let it go, Buck,” Steve muttered, smoothing his hands down the feathers on Clint’s back. “You know Tony.”

Bucky sighed again, quieter, but he did know Tony. He was a fixer. “How about meatballs?”

“That sounds awful,” Clint admitted. “But I’m so hungry that I don’t actually care. It’s better than anything I’ve eaten anyway, probably.”

“I’ll cook them so it’s easier on your stomach.”

Clint nodded, humming quietly, and then extended his wings. He’d basically been clipped. He wouldn’t be able to fly anyway. So maybe he’d stay a little longer than a few days.

“Oh! The feathers!” Tony gasped, standing abruptly. “I need to pick them up before Jarvis and Ana get home!”

Clint watched him go. “Should probably go help him. The feathers that were cut will have really sharp edges.”

Steve made a startled noise and hurried after him. With his scales, he was extra impervious to injury. And it would be just their luck that Tony would slice his arm open.

“He’s going to keep you,” Natasha decided, leaning her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist. “He does that.”

Clint shrugged. Steve, Bucky, and Natasha seemed to be doing pretty well for themselves. It wasn’t like it could be any worse than the circus.

anonymous asked:

i hope i'm not being a pain but could i request some headcanons on what levi, hange and erwin would be like as parents? thank you in advance!

Not a pain at all, anon. Enjoy! 


  • This is the man who appears as calm and collected as can be on the outside during delivery but is actually a nervous wreck. He’s so anxious and terrified that something will go wrong and he’ll lose his family again but, when nothing happens and the doctor places the baby in his arms for the first time, he’s at a loss for words. 
  • He’ll definitely worry about what kind of example he’ll set for his kid and if he’s even capable of being a good father. Levi doesn’t have a good example of how to raise a child, but he’ll strive to do his best to give them a life and childhood that he never had. 
  • The constant crying is something that he has to adjust to, for sure, but he’ll be the first one to roll out of bed at four in the morning to take care of the baby. Given that his sleeping schedule is sporadic already, Levi has no qualms with taking care of the baby until he/she calms down. 
  • When the child gets older, he’d definitely develop into the strict, but fair parent.  Levi would definitely want to give his child freedom and a chance to make mistakes and learn from them, but he’ll put his foot down if there’s something he truly doesn’t want them to do. 
  • Even though he’s a man of few words, Levi would make sure to let his kid know that they are loved, even if it’s through more actions than words. He’ll do his best to never miss a sports game or important school function because he wants his kid to have the support from their parents that he never had. 
  • All in all, Levi would be a really good father. A little unorthodox and rough around the edges due to lack of inexperience and any prior help from his own family, but he does his best to raise his kid and help them blossom into their own person. 


  • While Hanji is an incredibly intelligent and skilled individual, there is no way in hell that they know what they are doing when it comes to raising a child. They are very dedicated to their science, but I don’t think that vast knowledge extends to taking care of a kid. 
  • Hopefully their s/o is a really patient and responsible person because I don’t think Hanji would be. It’s not intentional and I do believe they would adore their child, but their brilliant mind is so all over the place that they can’t just settle down and focus on taking care of their kid. 
  • Saying that, though, Hanji would definitely be that loud parent at very and any sports event/academic achievement/extracurricular activity who cheered their kid’s name way too much and embarrasses their children. 
  • They would definitely be supportive of whatever goal/dream their kid has, no matter how unrealistic it could seem. Their child wants to be an astronaut? Go for it! Discover a lost city? They’ll help you with your research! It’s never a dull moment in Hanji’s household, that’s for sure. 
  • I can’t see Hanji being a super strict parent unless it came down to academics. They really wouldn’t tolerate their kid slacking off or being lazy when it came to using their brains so Hanji would encourage a love of learning at a super young age.


  • I think out of the three, Erwin’s s/o’s pregnancy is the most planned. When things are calm in his life and he’s secured both financially and mentally, he would be ready to start a family. He’d be nervous like every person is when their partner is in the delivery room, but he would vow to instill and teach his kid values and other life lessons. 
  • Growing up, Erwin’s child would have all their necessities and more. I don’t want to say they’d be spoiled, necessarily, but I think Erwin would reward hard work. He’d definitely encourage them to study hard and to seek out knowledge and the truth; to formulate their own opinions by reading and researching whatever they could get their hands on. 
  • That being said, I think Erwin would do his best to make sure he’s there for his kids as much as possible. He’s a busy guy, but he does his hardest to make time for his partner and family. He wants them to have a good upbringing and to have someone to lean on when the situation calls for it. 
  • That being said, Erwin would definitely be the disciplinarian parent, but not in a harsh way. I don’t see him yelling at his kid, per say, but the disappointed expression on his face and his cool words would make it feel even worse than being yelled at. 
  • Overall, I think Erwin would be quite a normal parent. He’d do his best to teach his kid everything they needed to know for the real world and more. 

artistsapprentice  asked:

If you're taking requests, can you please do a myth about one of the primordial Greek gods, like Nyx?

I absolutely can, although maybe not Nyx, as she’s not often the central character in the surviving myths we have, which honestly does not do justice to her role as namesake of my favourite makeup brand. Instead, I have written about the births of Kronos and Zeus, because Nyx makes a fleeting appearance and also most of the gods are primordial (primordial douchebags, am I right? I’m totally right.)

If you don’t fancy reading about nubile oiled men, the importance of good table manners, and the origins of Wolverine from X-Men, feel free to skip by pressing J on your keyboard. Extra context and literary stuff under the cut, as always!

And the Father of the Year Award Goes to Absolutely No-one

Before the world came to be, there was something. We’ll call it Chaos, because that’s what it was called, but it wasn’t like, chaos chaos, like when you’re running late for work and the toaster starts ballsing up and then suddenly the cat’s puking into your shoes and your mother’s phoning to tell you that your father is actually your uncle. It was more of a chasm, like a kind of tangible nothingness, made up of the elements of everything which would later become actual stuff, like the sea and the sky and sprouts, which actually sounds kind of rad, except there was no-one there to appreciate just how poetic it all was.

Except one day, something just kind of happens, and suddenly there’s someone there, and her name is Gaea, and she is the Earth. Like, literally. She is what we would now recognise as a planet. Which is fine. Real women have curves, etc.

Now, at this point, Gaea is just kind of hanging around by herself, when along comes Tartarus, who is the primordial divine personification of a realm of eternal torture and pain and is probably really shit at parties, and Gaea decides that Tartarus isn’t really the ideal best friend. She really can’t imagine having slumber parties with Tartarus and braiding each other’s hair over all the haunting wails of the dead. She’s kind of happy to have company, but being stuck with Tartarus is sort of like when you turn up late to a party and have to hang around by yourself for a while until some white guy with dreads shows up and starts talking about capitalism; it’s slightly better than loneliness, but not much, and also it makes you want to drink more.

So, one day she’s like “it’s kind of lonely here in the middle of nowhere with only a torturous realm for company, this is like living in Wales and frankly I won’t stand for it,” and then bam, she’s not alone anymore, because the void has spat out a new companion and this exceptionally hot dude is standing there, and he’s butt-naked and all toned and curved and probably oiled, because this myth is from Ancient Greece, and Gaea is like “holy buttocks, who in Chaos are you?” and the beautiful man just sighs wearily and says “I’m Eros, and I’m literally here for the sole purpose of making people want to do unspeakable things to one another.” Gaea pseudo-frowns and she’s like “what kind of unspeakable things, because if you mean relentless murder and ceaseless slaughter, then honestly, I think that’s just in my blood, I’m an Ancient Greek deity,” and Eros is like “have you ever wanted to just lie someone down and cover them in chocolate sauce?” and Gaea metaphorically wrinkles her proverbial nose and she’s like “no, that sounds unsanitary and also I’m a planet,” and then Eros clicks his fingers and says “how about now?” and Gaea does this weird little shiver thing, probably dislodging mountains and causing tectonic plates to collide like bodies on a dancefloor, and she’s like “do that again,” and Eros takes a few steps back and he’s all “no offence, but I’m the only other guy here, and I’m really more of a peanut butter guy myself.”

Then Gaea is like “as fantastic as those few moments of delight were, what’s the actual point? Like, why is it so important that people get the urge to do unspeakable things to each other up against barnyard doors? I mean, we were both just sort of born out of the ether with no need for body parts rubbing and touching in any pleasing way whatsoever, so why can’t things just carry on like that? What’s the need for the horizontal tango?” and Eros just shrugs and waves his sculpted arms a bit and says “plot holes, no pun intended.”

After a while, other things start to appear, like night (Nyx) and day (Hemera) and the realm of eternal, unflinching darkness, known as Erebos, and eventually Gaea just gets tired of having all these things floating around her like One Direction fans outside an arena, and so she does the only thing she can do, seeing as privacy screens haven’t been invented yet, and she gives birth to the sky and uses it as a makeshift veil. The sky’s name is Uranus, and, as it turns out, he’s virile as hell, because pretty soon he’s impregnated Gaea, and she gives birth to Oceanus, who is the divine personification of the sea, which means he’s totally wet and basically hates conflict, and then she gives birth to Kronos. Like his brother Oceanus, he’s a Titan, which means that he is part of the race of elder gods, along with their older siblings, including Thea, Rhea, Hyperion and Iapetos, among others, because condoms haven’t been invented yet, and let’s be honest, Uranus is totally the kind of guy who’d pretend that he couldn’t use them for reasons of girth.

Then, because this family isn’t fucked up enough already, Gaea gives birth to three giant monsters, the Hecatoncheires, who all have a hundred hands and fifty heads and can also control storms, which makes me wonder why they cast Halle Berry in X-Men and not just a hideous CGI conglomerate, and then she (Gaea, not Halle Berry) gives birth to three more monsters, each with one eye, called the Cyclopes. When Uranus sees his six new beautiful children, he’s all “wow, those came out of you? They must take after your side of the family,” and Gaea says “technically, you ARE my side of the family, sonsband,” and Uranus is like “shit, yeah, this is probably why incest is frowned upon, isn’t it? Anyway, I think you should just put them all back, to be honest,” and Gaea is like “what do you mean ‘put them all back’?” and Uranus is like “well, you know, back up the ol’ pipe,” and Gaea is like “say ‘pipe’ one more time and I’ll shove something up yours,” nobly resisting the urge to make a pun on his name, but Uranus is like “sorry, can’t hear you, I’m too busy shoving these gigantic monster children back into your womb,” and he’s not even lying.

Obviously, this causes Gaea some Problems, and so she decides that maybe it’s time to get rid of Uranus. When he’s asleep, probably dreaming about changing his name by deed poll, she gathers together all of her children – the ones who aren’t currently rolling around in her uterus, anyway – and she’s all “look, I’m going to level with you here. Your father is a dick. I could do so much better. I deserve Ryan Gosling, not some dude who thinks it’s OK to use my birth canal as a storage locker. I need your help, kids,” and then she takes out this absolutely massive sickle, and she says “this sickle is made of adamant, which is a radical new element that I made for this specific purpose. It’s stronger than Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson after a meal of spinach, and without meaning to blow my own trumpet, it really is the goddamn poodle’s privates. Like, if I were to create my own super powered mutant soldier, I’d probably coat his bones with this shit and maybe make him some awesome claws of the same stuff, because this? This stuff is nearly unbreakable. It’s totally fit for purpose,” and then her kids are like “by ‘purpose’, do you mean that you want us to use that sickle on our father?” and Gaea nods sagely and she’s like “I want you to use it all over him,” and her kids confer with one another, drawing some diagrams and making detailed notes, and then they turn back to her and say in unison “nope.”

Except they don’t say it completely in unison, because Kronos, the youngest of her Titan children, pipes up like “I know what needs to be done, grandma-mother,” and Gaea says “do you?” and Kronos nods and says “I do. I know exactly what you want me to do, 100%. I understand your plan completely. I volunteer,” and Gaea places her hand firmly on Kronos’ shoulder and grins and she’s like “grandson-son, let us put our shared plan into action,” and Kronos takes the sickle and he’s like “you can count on me, grandma-mother, I won’t let you down,” and Gaea probably just groans a bit because she’s still full of monster children.

Later that night, Uranus comes over to Gaea for a night of nocturnal naughtiness, and he’s about to cock his leg in a jaunty and arousing manner and be like “let us kiss with tongues, mother-wife,” when he hears this battle cry from behind him, and before he can turn around to see what the fuck is going on, Kronos has leapt on him with this massive sickle, and then Kronos raises the sickle above his big Titan head and brings it down in a swooping arc, right on Uranus’ dick. Like, that’s it. He just cuts it clean off, severing it right at the base, then throws it over his shoulder like salt in the Devil’s face, and Uranus just starts sobbing and says “for a Titan, that really wasn’t tight at all. I knew that having kids would be difficult, but this just absolutely takes the proverbial biscuit,” and he leaves, because there’s not a lot else he can do, really.

When he’s gone, Gaea turns to Kronos and she’s just like “you cut his dick off?” and Kronos nods proudly and says “our plan has come to fruition, mother,” and Gaea rolls her eyes and she’s like “I was thinking more along the lines of ruthless patricide, but I guess your idea also worked,” and Kronos wrinkles his nose and he’s all “what kind of monster would kill their own father? Balls or no balls, I still need the old guy to teach me how to throw a ball, y’know,” and Gaea just rolls her eyes and she’s about to make some remark about how a good father probably wouldn’t shove his kids back inside their mother, when Uranus’ testicles, which have landed in the sea, start to foam, and from the dick foam this beautiful woman emerges, and she’s like “I need two things. Firstly, I need a bath, because honestly, natural childbirth has absolutely nothing on what just happened to me, and secondly, I need a dry martini and a nubile young man,” and Gaea is all “literally who the fuck are you?” and the woman is like “I’m Aphrodite, and I really want to just reiterate that I’m covered in dick foam, so can we keep this conversation as brief as possible, like three seconds max” and Kronos is like “go to Cyprus, there are baths there beyond your wildest dreams,” and Aphrodite goes to Cyprus and presumably bathes in bleach for about three years.

Meanwhile, Uranus, hiding away in shame and anger, mutters under his breath something very sinister, something along the lines of “I hereby prophesy that the end of the Titans shall fall very soon, as they are overthrown by their own treacherous children and punished for their sins, signed Uranus xoxo.”

A whole bunch of time passes, and honestly, what happens next is incredibly complicated and involves more birth scenes than a director’s cut of Alien, but in a nutshell, a whole bunch of gods book a hotel room with each other, producing generations of gods, nymphs and other creatures. Kronos himself marries Rhea, his sister, and the two of them have a whole bunch of children, including Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Poseidon and Hades. Now, you’d think that Kronos, having seen the effect that bad parenting can have on a marriage and indeed a penis, might be a better father to his own kids than Uranus had been to him. You would be wrong. In fact, Kronos takes fatherhood to new lows. Having heard Uranus’ prophecy that he is fated to be overthrown by his own son, Kronos takes a leaf out of his father’s book and decides that the best place for his children is inside their parent. However, unlike Uranus, Kronos doesn’t put them back inside their mother; presumably remembering how THAT had turned out, he puts them inside himself instead, and swallows them whole, barely even tasting them. Honestly, I’m not sure why he didn’t chew them first, but whatever. He doesn’t.

After her brother-husband has eaten five of her children, Rhea begins to get a bit fed up (and honestly, why it took five attempts for her to get sick of this shit, I also have no idea; clearly, neither of them are Parent of the Year). So, when she becomes pregnant for the sixth time, she finds her mother-mother-in-law, Gaea, and she’s like “look, I know that Kronos was always your favourite son because of the time he helped you chop off dad’s dick, but now Kronos is BEING a dick, and I need your help,” and Gaea is like “Kronos stopped being my favourite child the moment he copied his dad and internalised his children. If only he could have taken after his mother more, and been awesome and totally opposed to infanticide. Well, I’ll tell you what; that son you’re carrying is going to save you from a life of matrimonial fatigue, but you have to do a couple of things first,” and Rhea says “just tell me what to do,” and Gaea is like “you have to run away, give birth in a magic cave, and pretend that your son is a rock,” and Rhea just sighs and she’s like “honestly, my kids are probably better inside Kronos’ digestive tract and away from this family unit,” but she does what Gaea asks.

So, when Rhea has given birth to her son – whom she names Zeus, which is a name you may be familiar with – she finds a huge rock and swaddles it, dressing it in a fetching babygro with the motif ‘DADDY’S LITTLE FLESH CHILD, MUMMY’S LITTLE NOT-A-GEODE’ and hands it to Kronos. Kronos takes one look at the rock and says “this baby has my eyes, darling,” and then promptly swallows it whole, completely falling for the trick, believing that he’s swallowed his fifth child. Rhea, presumably wondering if Kronos and the rock have more in common than she first thought, goes off to raise her baby in secret.

After a while, yet more time passes and Zeus grows up into an absolutely strapping young god, all bearded and muscled and, most importantly, not swilling around inside Kronos’ bowels, and Gaea is like “OK, grandson. The prophecy says that you will overthrow your father, so the first thing to do is to make him throw up,” and Zeus is like “why would I do that? When dad overthrew HIS dad, he got to use a phenomenal sickle, and I just get to use a bit of bad ham?” and Gaea says “firstly, you’re right, that sickle was fucking sick, and secondly, your father never chewed his food, and you have a few siblings who are probably very grateful for that, although honestly they’d be a tad less grateful if they’d ever had to sit opposite him at dinner, rather than inside him,” and so Zeus goes off to find Kronos.

When he finds him, he slips him an emetic herb, and Kronos immediately throws up his children, all covered in stomach slime but still alive and fully grown. Zeus is like “hey siblings, I’m Zeus, and honestly, I will never fully comprehend what you have been through, but I hope we can bond over this experience anyway,” and Hades is like “I think there’s a bit of partially digested carrot in my hair,” and Hera says “no, that’s just stomach lining, but you do have something unspeakable on your shoulder,” and Demeter says “thanks for saving us, Zeus, but dad looks super pissed that you just made him throw up his children,” and Kronos mutters “and that great bit of roast ham that I had for lunch.”

Zeus just shrugs and he’s like “well, there’s this prophecy which says that dad’s going to look defeat right in the face very soon and I’m going to be the one who puts it there, so honestly, I’m going to just let him have this one. I’d probably be angry too, if someone gave me a prophecy which told me that my child would overthrow me and I subsequently internalised that child for my own protection and suzerainty, only to have the child break free from my body somehow. Boy, that would really blow.“

Glaring at his family, just about managing to speak through his anger, Kronos snarls “you know what this means, son?” and Zeus sets his jaw into a rigid line, pushes his shoulders back so that his biceps look particularly rugged in his favourite white tank top, and then he digs into the pocket of his skinny black jeans and pops a tooth-pick into his mouth, chewing it with a pensive look on his face, and after a few tense seconds have passed, during which Kronos is just clenching his fists and trembling with unspent fury, Zeus says “yes, dad. This means war.”

My other retellings can be found here; my mythology blog is here; and my Mythology Mondays Facebook page is here. Thrilling.

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Okay folks, buckle in, because my Creative Writing Group yesterday was lit.

So, we usually meet up once a week, we bring stuff we wrote, read it aloud and discuss it. The guy leading the group, Peter, who’s a native English speaker than takes our texts home and checks for grammar/spelling mistakes. The people are awesome and it’s always really great to get feedback, but yesterday, we had a “real” author there, so we could ask him questions.

We didn’t know him. No one of us had ever heard of him. And to be fair, we didn’t expect his book to be a big deal. (At least I didn’t.)

So at some point, I asked him something along the lines of “So, the way you’re speaking about it having confidence in your own work is the most important part?” And he interrupted me halfway through and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “not confidence. Determination.”

And he proceeded to tell us the story of how when your book gets published, you get a few copies. He got eight. One for his wife, four for his children. What to do with the other three? So he thought about who could get him the most publicity, and the name that came to mind was Liam Neeson. Now, his book is about an IRA killer, and he grew up in the 60s/70s on the border between North and South Ireland, and he knew Liam Neeson did too. But he knew if he were to send it to Liam Neeson’s agent, he would never get it. So instead of doing that, he remembered he’d seen his mother on TV at some point, and he sent it to Liam Neeson’s mother.

Some time later, he received an email, from no one else but Liam Neeson himself, telling him his book was awesome, he should think about making it into a movie. His answer was: Well, I’m a writer, I can’t do it - but you could. And Liam’s answer was that he preferred acting to directing, but he knew some people. So he brought the book to London and actually found a company that would make the movie.

Okay, so after that story, we all had to check whether it was true.

It is, read here.

So, now I know Mark Mulholland, an author who knows Liam Neeson. And I am so looking forward to that movie. Determination, my friends.

anonymous asked:

Why didn't Ned let Cat name any of their damn children? He could have at least let her name the girls who (possibly excepting Arya) don't seem to be named in tribute to people close to Ned, instead he hogged all the names. If Cat had gotten to name them what names do you reckon they would have?

First, I believe Cat named Robb, and very sensibly too. (She and Ned weren’t in the same place when Robb was born, nor for a while afterwards - and Ned and Robert were on the outs about the time Robb was born.) Naming their firstborn in tribute to newly-crowned King Robert is good practical politics.

Second, I’m not at all sure that Ned picked all the subsequent names without approval and input from Catelyn. (Arya’s a Northern name too.) Again, if we go back to the politics of naming children, consider that Catelyn’s a southron lady who married a Northern lord. Giving her kids Northern, Stark names is a good idea as far as the identity politics go.

*arrives a month later with Sherlolly  fanfiction that takes place - of course - in the aftermath of ~that episode~*


“Go away, Sherlock”

“Mrs. Hudson sends biscuits.” He blurted out, ashamed of the way his tongue rushed to bribe her with sweets. He noticed, as he noticed (almost) everything else, the fact that she loved sweets. Always during her visits to Baker Street she took her tea with not one but two of Mrs. Hudson’s treats.

“You go down there and you talk to her.” John had said. “Fix it, Sherlock, as you fix everything else. Look, Mrs. H brought biscuits. That’ll get you inside. The rest is up to you.”

Her icy command came through the closed door.

“You can leave them at the door on your way out.”

“No, Molly. You have to let me in”.

He immediately regretted his poor choice of words.

“You know, I really do not have to do anything, just because you ask”.

“N-no, of course not.”

In a manner very un-Sherlock like, he faltered. Against her good sense, she was drawn to the door at this sign of vulnerability in his voice. It was as if her presence could make it better, which was, of course, a ridiculous thought.

“I just-I really need to explain-”

The door suddenly burst open. Molly Hooper stood before him, looking at him directly in the eye. His towering form wasn’t so intimidating now, she noticed, and, in turn, he didn’t feel very powerful standing before her.

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On Ardyn Lucis Caelum

Imagine loving Ardyn; not as we know him, but as he was two thousand years ago. Imagine loving Ardyn Lucis Caelum.

This series of headcanons assume several things: first, that as an Oracle, the reader ‘character’ is femme. Secondly, that Ardyn was not the very first Lucian king, but not that far down the line. And thirdly, that Izunia was the jealous king later crowned by the crystal; a brother perhaps. I’m feeling like he was older. I will probably devote some time to exploring the ‘canon’ I establish here in a series of fics because I lowkey love what I have.

TW for mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage.

More under the cut.

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antisocialarchives  asked:

Hello, Sleuth! I'm sorry if you've been asked this before, but I recalled that many ASOUE fans thought that the S in S. Theodora Markson, but stood for Sunny, but aren't the Baudelaires named after dead Snickets? Which in case, Thedora is a) a Snicket b) dead?

And a good morrow to you, @antisocialarchives​!

It’s never said that the Baudelaire orphans are named after dead Snicket. What they say specifically is that their family names children after dead people and that the Snickets do that too. This is actually an echo to a number of Ashkenazic traditions.

“I could not ask for better,” Kit said quietly. “Name the baby after one of your parents, Baudelaires. The custom of my family is to name a baby for someone who has died.” “Ours too,” Sunny said, remembering something her father had told her when she had inquired about her own name. “Our families have always been close,” Kit said, “even if we had to stay apart from one another. Now, finally, we are all together, as if we are one family.
[The End, Chapter Thirteen]

Technically the Baudelaire orphans are named after Arlene Violet, Claus von Bülow and Sunny von Bulöw, the main protagonists of the von Bülow case. Beatrice and Bertrand had considered naming Violet after Lemony Snicket if she had been born a boy, but that was only because they thought him dead at the time (and also, theoretically, because some doubt remained about Violet’s biological father).

JB Imagine - Freckles

A/N - A lovely anon requested something cute involving Jaebum’s lil freckles above his eye so I wrote this little fluff! Hope you all enjoy and continue sending in all of your requests~

It was early morning and you had just woken up. Jaebum was still sleeping beside you, hair tousled from sleep. Most mornings you would wake up last, since he had such a busy schedule and had to leave early. You lay there just taking in the moment of being able to appreciate having him there beside you without needing to think about whatever photoshoot or concert he had to attend. Today he was all yours and no one else’s. You stretched your arms as you sat up, only to have Jaebum pull you back down sleepily. He threw his arms around you and pulled you in close. His eyes were still closed and you could tell he would soon fall back asleep.

When you had first met Jaebum, you had been distracted by his appearance and even now, months into the relationship, you couldn’t quite believe how attractive he was. Not that he fully believed it. Whenever you told him, he’d blush and smile shyly at you, his eyes forming cute little crescents on his face. One of your favourite parts of his face were the two freckles above his left eye. He had a few little moles on his face but those two just stood out for you. Knowing he was awake, you lifted your hand to his face and gently glided a finger over the two brown spots. Jaebum’s eyes opened slightly, an annoyed expression on his face telling you he had been trying to sleep. You ignored him and continued tracing lines over his two freckles. He laughed at the innocence of it all and squeezed his arms around you, as if he couldn’t quite handle how much he loved you.

“I love your little freckles, Jae. They’re so cute.”
“Like you then,” he replied, giving you a flirtatious wink as you giggled at the quick comeback. 
“Well obviously,” you retorted sarcastically, laughing again as you leaned closer to him to kiss him softly on the lips. He smiled into the kiss, craving more mornings like this where you could just be the cute couple everyone knew you to be. As soon as the two of you had told the boys you were together, they immediately began to call out every cute thing you did. It didn’t take long before you were named the parents of the group - they’d also complain whenever a quick kiss escalated into a more passionate makeout session - “You shouldn’t kiss like that in front of your children!!” More often than not, you’d both have to be responsible adults and work, leaving you too tired to do all the cute couple stuff like laugh together in the mornings or trace shapes on his eye moles. But it made those days you could that bit more special. It meant you appreciated those moments more. And, unfortunately for Jaebum, it meant you had to do it more because when would you get the chance again? But on the inside he loved it. Because it made you smile and anything that made you smile was worth everything in the world and more.

Dagger (part 2)

AU: Mafia

POV: Reader

Rating: PG-13 (For the violence and occasional language)

Pairings: A wee bit of Reader X Seungri, and that subtle GDYB.

Summary: As the sister of the leader of the most dangerous gang in Seoul, you’ve done a pretty amazing job at maintaining a low profile, and not letting anyone know what family you belong to. Your life is normal, despite your brother’s intimidating, yet respected, image. But what the people don’t know, is that you’re Big Bang’s secret weapon, their Trump Card.

Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4(end)

“It was about you. He thinks this is too dangerous for you. He asked me to tell you to quit.”

Someone hit me with a bag full of bricks.

No, I thought, that would hurt less.

If I had been told Jiyong and Youngbae were about to get married, adopt three children and name them after different types of pasta, that would be more believable. “I have been with you people since before I could even say my own name. It’s where I belong, oppa. I don’t do anything else. I don’t want to do anything else.” I said, coming to a standstill.

“You need to understand, y/n, none of us wanted this life thrust upon you. All we want to do is keep you safe. And what we do, it is as far from safe as is possible to be. If anything were to happen to you, do you think I would be able to live with myself, knowing that it was all because of me? That it was my fault I could not protect my own baby sister? Even after I was warned so many times, even when I almost saw you die today?”

I could understand. I did understand. But he had to understand I had a choice too. For eighteen years this man had worked tooth and nail, not being able to afford three square meals for himself, but making sure I never went to bed hungry. I was his responsibility. And now that I could, I wanted to repay him. Even if it was with my life. I wanted to watch his back, make sure he returned home every night, and bury anyone who dared to ruin what he created with his blood and sweat.

“Do I not get a say in my own life then? I need to make decisions on my own now. I’m not your six year old in pigtails anymore. Why can’t you see that?” I really did not mean to yell, or sound ungrateful, but that, somehow, was how things turned out.

“I suppose I should. I’m sorry for trying to do the right thing. I’m sorry for trying to protect you.” The pain in his eyes killed me over and over again. He just walked on, without a word, crestfallen.

I wanted to go after him, but something held me back. It took some time to register it was not my feelings, but was indeed a person, holding my arm.

“What the hell? Let go of me.”

The person, who was being referred to as ‘perv’ inside my head, showed no intentions of doing that.

“Right. Now. While I’m still asking nicely.”

“Well I’ll treat you right, love.” He sounded positively drunk. His breath only confirmed the same. “Don’t bother running after that coward of a man anymore, who doesn’t even know what he’s leaving behind. I know what girls like you want. And I’ll make sure you get what you des-” He was cut off by a punch landing square on his nose, causing blood to drip down.

Pulling me behind him, Jiyong growled, “If you so much as breathe within a thousand miles of my sister again, I will slice you into so many pieces, they will have a lot of trouble burying your useless ass.

“Think you’re so tough, huh?” The guy said, wiping the last of blood from his face, visibly offended. “Hey guys, I think we need to teach this stiff douchebag and his little bitch here some really solid lessons.”

“I’m going to do you a favour and tell you to back the fuck off before you and your peasants have to be scraped off the floor in the aftermath.”

“You son of a bitch-” He cursed and tried to punch Jiyong, who stealthily dodged it, caught a hold of the guy’s hand, stretched it out, so they looked more like a couple doing salsa than two extremely angsty dudes fighting for dominance, and used his elbow to hit the back of the perv’s head repeatedly.

Meanwhile two men, presumably the ‘guys’ ganged up on me, as I backed away from Jiyong. “Well this is hardly fair gentlemen.” I said, sarcastically. “An exhausted girl who is not in the mood for your bullshit, versus two scrawny rodents hell-bent upon making her loose her temper. The odds seem a bit off to me.”

“Shut up, bitch. You’re only making it more difficult for you.” One of them said as both the men lunged at me at the same time.

Ducking out from their reach, I grabbed both their wrists in the process, and exactly as Daesung had taught, turned suddenly, jerking their arms, then folded them against their backs, inviting gasps of pains from both.

“I told you, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit” I say as I kick the first one from behind, then the next making them fall on their knees. Before they had the time to comprehend what their free hands were going to do, I elbowed one of them from the back, with enough force to knock him unconscious, strong enough to send jitters up my arm, and then kicked the other one to the floor and again knocked the living daylights out of him; with the heel of my foot, gently caressing his face.

When I turned around Jiyong was already done with the guy who was bundled up on the ground still mumbling curses at both of us. He still looked extremely hurt from our argument earlier, and something in me broke.

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, as tears began to well up in my eyes. “All you’ve ever done is risk your own life to keep me safe, and I am so, so grateful for that. I wanted to be with you guys, not for adrenaline kicks to fulfill my wild teenage fantasies of punching assholes into the sunset, but so I could maybe try to do the same for you, as you have done for me. Watch your back, make sure you don’t die doing something stupid like taunting people with grenade launchers aimed at you, maybe also make sure you came back every day. Take care of you, in the only way that I know.”

Jiyong simply walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my whimpering body. In an instant I did the same, as if clinging onto him for dear life. As my head rested on his shoulder, his hands gently played with my hair. There was a comfortable silence, interrupted only when we heard one of the guys that I had knocked down slowly come to his senses. We ran then. Not because we couldn’t take them in a fight again, hell, we would still emerge victorious if they called in multiple reinforcements. But, because none of us wanted to ruin the effects of the moment that had just passed.

As we came to a stop in front of our house, out of breath and pumped on adrenaline, one of the guards opened the door before we even reached in and both of us bowed to thank him. I was about to make my way up the stairs when Jiyong half whispered half yelled, “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Puzzled, I turned around to see him; he looked like he had committed the most heinous crime in the history of heinous crimes, and was severely regretting it. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. That filthy guy and his minions could’ve done anything to you, and again, it would have been my fault. I’m so so sorry, y/n, I promise, I’ll never leave you alone like that again. Never.”

It was my turn to initiate The Hug, and so I did.

“It was mostly my fault, you know. I should have caught up to you. If not that, then at least I should have been the one to punch his nose off his face. I should’ve done something, but I dint. Let’s call it even.”

“You know,” He said, tightening his hold on me, “When I say ‘never’ I also mean the times when I’m out kicking ass. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

“So, I’m not being shoved out of your super cool ninja clan then, G Dragon-sama?”

He just laughed and breathed a light no somewhere in between. “Now go to bed, Naruto, you have school tomorrow.”



The next day Jiyong and Youngbae had a very heated discussion about me and what’s best for me and eventually, both of them decided it was best indeed, that I do stay with them, lest I shall be harmed in their prolonged periods of absence.

While they were in there, discussing my future, I was in the kitchen, making a very healthy double cheese chicken lasagna for my hungry self. As I was too busy drooling over the cheese that was bubbling in the oven, my surroundings became void and all that mattered anymore was the wall of time that stood between the food and my esophagus.

Out of nowhere, two fingers pressed down on either side of my waist, making me jump up in surprise. What was more embarrassing was the inhuman sound I made in the said process. Taking the first thing I found on the shelf I turned towards the attacker in a poise of self-defence.

“Whoa, y/n, you’re going to decapitate someone with that lethal spatula, girl.”

“Seungri? Dude, I would actually have decapitated you. Don’t sneak up on me like that. I have killer reflexes, you know.” I smirk.

“I’d love to put that to test someday. Let’s see, next weekend? My place?”

“Did you think that was smooth, Lee Seunghyun?”

“Is that a no?”

“Do you like lasagna?”


“Yes. It’s a yes. Now, would you like to have lasagna? It’s almost done.” Talking about relationship stuff made me uncomfortable, and so, in the worst, most weird way that I could, I changed the topic.

“Some other time, princess. I need to go meet your brother first.”

“Cool. More for me then.” Princess? What?

“Watch the calories though.”

“Watch the calories though.” I mimic in a mocking tone as he smirks and walks away.

What a beautiful pain in the ass.

By the time the guys were done, it was evening already, and I did not realize that I had fallen asleep on the kitchen counter. Only managing to eat half the lasagna before my screwed up sleep schedule demanded to be acknowledged.

I woke up to the sound of Jiyong munching down the lasagna, sitting across from me on the counter.

“So Seungri asked you out?” He said, when he realized I had woken up.

“What? How do you know?”

“He called me this morning to ‘confess’ his weird feelings for you. He dint want to do it behind my back.”

“And you agreed?” I ask, visibly taken aback.

“Well, might as well. He knows what’s going to happen if he fucks it up.”

I snorted, and took a bite out of the lasagna as well.

“How did you make this?” He asked, making a disgusted face, “It tastes like damp socks.”

“It definitely does not. It’s better than what that good for nothing girlfriend of yours used to make.”

“Oh but she was good for something…” He says looking up at the ceiling, as if he was nostalgic. A smug smile on his face.

“You’re disgusting Kwon Jiyong.” I say, hitting his shoulder lightly. “Also, let me sleep. Go away.  Shoo. Do whatever deep dark stuff you do locked away in your deep dark room.”

“No, y/n, listen to me. This is important. It’s about that gang that’s after us.” He said, in a serious tone, which indicated we were down to business. “They’re called ‘death stroke’. Almost ten years ago, they were our biggest rivals, when dad’s company was about to go bankrupt and I had just ascended in his place. But, we beat him. After which they went underground. Now, I believe it was because they could not bear being defeated by a sexy eighteen year old, but according to Seunghyun hyung they were just ‘laying low’. Now that they believe it is us who screwed them over, their leader is blinded by revenge to extract vengeance from my majestic self. Even if we tell him it wasn’t us, he won’t believe it because, despite what TOP hyung says, he hates my guts. Now we’ve got to be careful, because who knows how many upgrades he has gone through over the years.”

“Upgrades? Oppa, this isn’t a video game villain.”

“Sister, he is called Midnight.”

“Ok first of all, I want that title. Second, why was this guy such a big rival of dad’s company?”

“Because apparently he had some beef with dad. He’s the reason the company fell in the first place.”

“Then let’s kill this bitch.”

Over the years, I always wanted to know why such a big company had reached such a low within almost no time. Who was the catalyst that favoured this downfall? I never asked my brother, because I was afraid he’d blame himself for it. But now that the son of a bitch had a face, and not to mention a cool ‘stage name’ that I required, I wanted nothing more than to paint his walls in deep, permanent red.

Over the course of the next few days, the guys all did their digging on this ‘Midnight’ and his ‘death stroke’, while I doodled in the back of my notebooks because whatever the teachers were saying in classes, was either never going to help me, or was just plain boring. As it is I was able to maintain good grades and an average image in class, so I could afford to doodle. I had earned the right to doodle. And so, I shamelessly doodled.

Fridays were the worst. Teachers gave extra homework, we had PE as the last period, and the instructor loathed my mere existence. Also, you never knew when the principle would come over and hand you more things to do, because of which, more often than not, we had to stay back after school hours.

This time, we were supposed to make paper cut outs for the first graders’ classrooms because they had a ‘Bring your mother to school’ day. I always hated these days, and anything to do with them.

“Never have I ever seen someone cut up golden stars with that much hatred in their eyes. You ok y/n?” My best friend asked me.

“Yeah well, when you have been personally victimized by your PE Instructor and then have a ‘decorate-a-classroom-for-mothers’ shoved in your face like a big ‘fuck you, you motherless git’, it sort of sucks the fun out of your peachy day.”

“Whoa slow down there sunshine. Here, have some chocolate.” She said, handing me a Hershey’s Kiss.

“Never leave me girl. What would I do without you?”

“Curl up in the fetal position and sob endlessly.” She said indifferently, as she pulled out a chocolate for her own self and ate it.

We finished the work sooner than I expected.

“A hundred starts and a double hundred chocolates later, the salty bitches finally emerge victorious!” I say, stretching my arms and got up.

“Speak for yourself, Cinderella. I happen to be a sweeter bitch.”

Both of us made out way out. Glad, the headache assigned to us was over. There were people in the class who looked at us with envy, and that made leaving even more satisfying.

We were out the school’s gate when it suddenly struck me, “Oh! I almost forgot, Seungri asked me out.”

“WHAT!! And I’m hearing about this NOW?! I feel betrayed. Did you find someone else to tell this to? *gasp* Are you CHEATING ON ME?”

“Calm down, you’re going to go into cardiac arrest. Who else would accept this eternal void of darkness except for you? I’ll tell you about it later, I want to go home right now, and sleep in a tub and hopefully drown in there for a couple of days.”

“Gimme a call when you come back from the dead, or if you die for good, ask Jiyong oppa to do it. We’ll support each other through the tough time. Then get married and name our firstborn after you.”

“Gross. Officially too gross. Oh the mental image. That’s it I’ve been scarred for life. I’m going to leave and pretend this never happened.” With that I turned, and walked away, already dreaming about essential oils soaking away all the torture I valiantly withstood today. And honestly, my body ached from head to toe, fingers about to spasm because of constant use of scissors, legs screaming out in protest, my eyes watering from the dire need for sleep. I was literally a wreck.

The sky was a dull yellow grey, clouds gradually blanketing all the blue and the setting sun not making any attempts to put up a fight either. There was a cool wind sweeping the streets, and weather like this meant a storm was on its way. A gentle breeze hit me, making me uneasy to the core. Ever since I was a little girl, I had noticed, on days like this, something always went wrong. And somewhere inside, that little girl wanted nothing more than to go cuddle up inside Jiyong’s blankets, because she was scared to be left alone.

Without second thoughts, I broke into a run as soon as I saw my house up ahead. I desperately wanted to get away from the rumbling clouds, slowly setting the stage for something more terrible to take over.

As soon I made it through the door, I took out my phone and called my brother.


“Oppa?” I gasped, too tired to hide the nervousness in my voice, still breathless from the unnecessary running.

“Oppa where-” I was cut off as a large hand blocked my mouth. I wanted to retaliate, to protest, but my body refused to respond. Someone hit me on the back of my head, and I fell, barely conscious. I could feel hot blood drip down my head, as I made out a figure bending down to pick up my phone.

“G-Dragon, It’s been a while. I hope you haven’t forgotten me? Not that it matters right now. You see, I have something you want, and you have something I want. What do you say we discuss it over tea sometime? If not, then forget about seeing this little cheesecake again. I can’t say would mind that. I can imagine a few things I could do with her. When you make up your mind, call me on this number.”

If Jiyong argued, threatened or even yelled at the man, I couldn’t make out. I knew I had to do something to save myself, and I had to do it fast.

I tried to get up from the floor, but my arms betrayed me. And I fell with a thud that bounced off the walls and drew all the attention towards me.

“Knock that bitch out for the love of God. And put her in the car.”

The last thing I heard was Jiyong’s muffled cry, seethed with pain and anger, then it all went dark.

An Open Letter to the Woman at Walmart

Story by kittythewildcat

Open Letter to the Woman at Walmart:

I saw you when I walked in. It looked like you had been there awhile. My cart was empty save for the soda I threw in as I walked by the sale right inside the door. You already had your cart half full of food.

And a crying baby.

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Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story - Avengers x Reader x Fallen!Pietro

Originally posted by dailymarvelstories

Words: 1096
Pairing: Avengers x Reader x Fallen!Pietro
Featuring: like a lot of avengers
Warnings: Angst, death
Authors Note: This is a song fic loosely based off of Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story from Hamilton and you can check it out! I say loosely mainly because I changed some of the lyrics to fit more of Pietro’s life. Also, instead of the eight kids Ham had, your lil family only had two- lol.

Masterlist. Request List.

Eliza: Reader   Alexander: Pietro   Angelica: Wanda (no relationship…ha)
Jefferson: Tony   Madison: Steve   Washington: Clint   Burr: Natasha

“Tony?” Natasha called Tony up to the stand to say something of the fallen hero.

“I’ll give him this…his fighting system is a work of genius. I couldn’t undo it if I tried. And, I’ve tried.” Tony began his speech. It was hard for you to pay attention, though. He had gone too early, and you were about to cry as you sat next to Wanda and Clint. Everyone wearing black and listening to the service. It hurt, losing him so easily.

“Steve?” Natasha called him up once Tony was done.

“I hate to admit it, but he doesn’t get enough credit for all the credit he gave us.” Steve started his speech out. And he was right, Pietro did so much and it goes so unnoticed.

You really missed him. He escaped death once and did not take the rest of his life for granted. He saved Clint from Ultron, and after a lot of love and care, he survived. When he got into a battle with his former friend from when he was in HYDRA, things went south. The ex-friend had challenged him to a battle for all their disagreements, and Pietro decided that he didn’t want to kill his friend, and he didn’t want to leave you or his sister. So when he tried to stop it, his enemy killed him.

You snapped back into reality. Wanda was standing at the front of the room, ready to talk. She took a deep breath. “Every other superhero gets to grow old,” She started as her eyes drifted over to where the team was seated. “Every other superhero’s story gets told.” She said, and you drifted off again.

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anonymous asked:

Can I fuck Benny on the roof of the Tops?

[note: as I write this I am drinking. I am sorry/you are welcome]

Why do y'all wanna fuck Benny so bad. Little King Trashmouth Named-after-one-of-the-Boxcar-Children motherfricker with his weird in game face and minimal sense of fashion why do y'all do this to yourselves why don’t u love yourselves what exactly about him makes u wanna fuck him. Is it how he says “SMOOTH LITTLE BABIES” or “GIVE THOSE CHARLIES A SHAKE” or is it like him being voiced by Matthew Perry or are you just that attracted to garbage bags with faces on them

I mean id probably fuck him too but I sure as fuck can’t explain why. Probably because I could beat him up.

And why on the roof dude what the shit like what are you doing up there the dude has a whole suite to himself. You probably have the presidential suite. And you’re gonna fuck on the roof. That’s how you get abducted by aliens dude. Do you wanna get abducted by aliens while getting down with the Ben-Man because I sure as fuck don’t. Even if you don’t you’ll probably have fucking Vulpes Inculta hiding behind a vent or some shit watching and taking notes or something like “hmm yes I see” like “”“"spying”“”“ or some shit but more just watching you two have awkward sex because I’m sure all sex with Benny is awkward as balls.

And what happens if you guys get a little too enthusiastic in your roll in the not hay on the roof. You’re gonna fuckin fall off the building. And then you splat down onto the strip, two naked bodies just turned into plastic bags full of ground beef on the road hitting the asphalt at terminal velocity

Who’s gonna clean that up huh? The Securitrons? Are you gonna see some fuckin white glove guys shoving handfuls of road corpse into designer ziplock bags to bring to Mortimer or some shit to serve up to people? Tourism is either gonna go way down or way up when news gets around of this shit. Things all over the Mojave get weird.

Fuckin battle of Hoover Dam part two is cancelled. Everyone’s too busy talking about how the big wig of the tops fucking fell off a building while having sex with someone on the roof. Swank is desperately trying to do damage control. No one knows what to do anymore. Everyone just goes home. All because some weird fuck decided to do the ring-a-ding-dong with Benny Gecko on the roof of the Tops casino.

Surprise (Request)

Could you maybe do a daddy!harry blurb where he has two or three children and he is away on tour and they surprise him and go and watch one of his shows/ or he surprised them coming back from being on tour x

Okay, I realize that by calling them D1 and D2 it sounds like something out of Dr. Seuss, but I didn’t want to give the girls actual names and it got really confusing trying to do (Y/D/N/1) and (Y/D/N/2)…

ALSO: Check out thehoranandi; another writer. :)


There were still way too many days on the countdown calendar. Ever since the kids had been old enough to understand why their daddy was away so much, you had started a countdown calendar in the kitchen so they would know exactly how many more days it would be until he got home. It also gave them something fun to do each morning when they came down for breakfast, often arguing about whose turn it was to take down the numbered piece of paper from the wall.

But there were still way too many days left.

This particular stretch of time had been a lot longer than they normally were. Typically, the countdown calendar fit nicely on the side of the kitchen counter, but this time you had needed to get creative. The initial number of days had actually been more than your youngest was able to count and she had needed to get her older sister to explain just how many it was. The numbered pages had spread past the kitchen counter and on to the wall beside it. Each day you came down, you let out a little sigh when you saw just how many pages were left. As much as the girls enjoyed the countdown game, both of them were starting to get a little anxious.

“When’s daddy coming home?” Your oldest daughter, (D1), asked.

“Still a while yet, my love.” You replied, pointing to the wall. “How many more days?”

Your daughter looked at the countdown and pouted a bit. “27 days.”

She sat down at the table with a bit of a huff and started picking at the cereal you had placed in front of her. You could tell that something was off by the way that she pouted into her bowl.

“What’s wrong, bugaboo?” You asked, ruffling her hair.

“I miss daddy.” She mumbled.

“I know you do, baby. Mummy misses him too.”

“Why does he have to be gone so long?”

“Because that’s daddy’s job, sweetheart. He needs to go away because people want to hear him sing.”

“He should stay here and sing to us. We would listen.” She said, earnestly.

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anonymous asked:

Fi-Fi???? What the fuck is wrong with you? He's the villain, you said it yourself! He isn't some cute fucker who picks flowers and makes babies cry. He's a tactician who can tear apart entire organizations without breaking a god damn sweat! He would never have fucked Dazai and he wouldn't flirt with Chuuya.

Could you imagine being killed by someone named Fi-Fi with a calm smile on their face and nothing but cold condescension in their eyes? Could you imagine being killed by someone who’s not only a boogeyman for children but for adults too? A person who’s mere name forces people to drink to calm themselves so they don’t throw themselves off a pier in fear? 

Because I think, Fi-Fi is more terrifying as a nickname than Fyodor by itself. Something sweet and unassuming all the way up until you’re on the ground, spitting blood :)

Also LMAO You’re a little shit over the SHIPS?!! Holy shit, you’re just mad I had Fyo fuck Dazai and flirt with Chuuya, wowwww. Okay, you do you. 

Lost in the Common Room

Charles Xavier x Reader 
Warnings: rien (none)
WC: 841

Request: sunfirestrike ;  I was wondering if you could do a Charles Xavier xreader set in first class where it’s like there day off and everyone is just set calmly in the living room doing mundane things and Charles starts reading there minds you know for science and discovers the readers HUGE crush on him despite her trying not to have a crush on him and then maybe a little fluffy kissing 

Notes: Forgive me, children, for I have sinned. :( Kidding! My name is Darcy. This is my first fanfic that I write on request by a fellow X-Men fan. So, forgive me if it vacuums or if its too cheesy. Enjoy and feedback would be greatly appreciated :D -Darcy


The noise radiating from the fire engulfed the entirety of the common room. The spit and crackle calmed all beings present down after the ruthless, exhaustive practice endured over the past week. Alex sat on the overlong sofa reading a novel by the late Ernest Hemingway, whom had died the year before. Raven and Hank were a different case entirely. Their backs resting on a bookshelf, they pretended to fight over the next installment of a series of books. What they actually found themselves doing on that idle day was flirting with one another. The rest of the party were either spending their time running up and down the house grounds or flying, as in Angel’s case. Charles pondered on the location of Erik but need not dwell on it for longer. He was sure Erik was still exercising his mind to lift excruciatingly heavy objects. Charles would’ve gone up to abet him in the act, but rather felt at ease for the moment.

           Sitting in his Victorian chair, he began to lose interest of the crown moldings of the room. Instead, he began to dwell on the basic principles of the genetic variations that undergo to create the beautiful specimen inhabiting the room.  His own genetic mutation was just as astounding. So to pass the time, he focused on scientific properties of the mutant mind. He thought that perhaps by releasing that threshold that blocked all those thoughts bouncing on the common room walls, he could thereby find clarity and dissect the youngsters’ minds to track the core of the neuronal cells, which transmit messages. As soon as the shield went down, he was flooded with thoughts. In that particular moment, you walked in lusting for another great read. Your mind wandered from the books to the people in the room, your eyes instantly finding Charles sitting in his favorite armchair. You flushed and turned away as fast as you could. Charles swirled around to look at you while your gaze traveled from spine to spine.

           ‘God, I hope he didn’t notice me staring.’ Charles smirked and continued to listen to you.

           ‘ Good book, good book, good book, where are you so I can escape this handsome man’s presence.’ Charles’ eyes opened wide with bewilderment. He always thought you beautiful and would’ve made an approach if he knew you reciprocated his feelings for you. He grinned at the fact that you were still complimenting his good features. His eyes a favorite subject.

           ‘ I’m sorry to intrude, but you are very distracting.’ Charles spoke telepathically.

           You jumped in surprise and responded mentally and furiously. ‘ I was fairly certain that I was being quite silent and discrete.’


           ‘ Well, internally you are very loud.’ Charles chuckled.

           ‘ Perhaps, it would help if you exited my mind, Charles.’


           ‘ But it’s extremely entertaining. Tell me, how is my handsome face treating you this fine evening?’


           “Charles!!” you stared at him, your fists clenched at your sides. You only realized you had literally screamed out his name when Alex raised his eyebrows at you. Xavier then stood up and walked over to you with a big smile on his face. “(y/n), yes? You called, or rather screamed.”

           “I thought you never rummaged in our brains.”

           “Forgive me but yours caught my attention.”

           “However, so? Is it because I just so happened to be fiddling around with the likes of you?” you blushed furiously but stood your ground as Charles looked over you. “Yes,” Charles smiled sweetly, “I find your concealed fancy towards me very satisfying. And I’m sorry to have utilized my telepathy to my advantage but as soon as I heard you I could not keep quiet. (y/n), I have been a great fool to have not seen it before.

           You gasped as you realized what he was trying to say. Charles kept staring at you, his eyes infinitely searing into your own. The sea-foam blue chasms of his eyes were enchanting, gluing you to the spot. And as he broke the last few inches separating you from him, you began to lose yourself. He in turn was also lost in the effervescent (y/eye color) bundle of your eyes.

           “(y/n),” Charles whispered intimately, while all you could muster was a groan. You melted into him as his lips met yours. As he deepened the kiss, forever etching his sweetness unto your lips, his hands clasped your waist and you broke. You broke into a million pieces as you were irrevocably lost in the reality of a fantasy. Charles gripped you closer for fear that he would collapse from the intensity of the kiss. The both of enveloped in a preamble of which you did not wish to find your way out.

            With great difficulty, Charles pulled away. While one hand remained stroking your bottom lip, the other was pushing a square volume into your hands. Charles breathlessly said, “(y/n), I’ll find you’ll enjoy this novel but not as much as I enjoyed this.”

Just because Harry named his son after Snape and managed to forgive him doesn’t give a right for everyone to be mad at Harry. Snape protected him until the very end because of Harry’s mom. And yes, Snape did bully him and bully other children too. He made Harry’s life a living hell when ever he could. Snape held on tight to the past- and then throw it in Harry’s face as if it were his fault. But Harry did something Snape couldn’t have done: he grew up. I suggest you do the same.

An Open Letter to the Woman at Walmart.

I saw you when I walked in. It looked like you had been there awhile. My cart was empty save for the soda I threw in as I walked by the sale right inside the door. You already had your cart half full of food.

And a crying baby.

And another child, dragging his feet as he prepared to throw a tantrum.
Your son, I assume he is about 4? I saw your frustration mounting with his behavior.

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anonymous asked:

Kyoya and the reader. "Your problems are none of my concern." Thanks you! ❤️❤️

( Angst Me No More — Ask Meme )

“Your problems are none of my concern.”

pairing: Kyoya x Reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1934 words

insp: “Say Something” — A Great Big World

“Mm. I understand. It’s okay.” You spoke to your phone, fingers clutching the hem of your polo shirt. You hung up, and sighed.

Even on our anniversary..

Looking around the restaurant, you felt that pang of loneliness when you saw the other couples eating together, holding hands and laughing.

Might as well eat here. You ordered your favorite pasta, and ignored the depressing thought in the back of your minds as you stared at the empty chair across from you. 

You had been signing the receipt when the waitress spoke to you. “Excuse me, Customer-san, but may I ask something?” She shyly looked at you.

“Yes, sure. What is it?” You replied.

“Did your date..” She gestured at the empty chair. Your eyes followed her hand, and you shook your head.

“No, my boyfriend’s too busy..” You grin up at her again. She gave you a look of sympathy, one you were all too familiar with, from the other waitresses in other restaurants you had spent dinner all alone in.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You just looked really sad.” She apologized once more. 

“No. It’s okay.” You smiled, and got up.

What’s even sadder is I’m getting used to it.

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