#heroiisms

If anyone noticed the small spacecraft land outside New Asgard, no one recognised the stranger in its streets. The emotion in his face went unremarked, considering the place was so full of joy and thriving progress. Asgardians did not shy away from expressing themselves.

In the guise of another man, Loki wandered the place his father had suggested could be home, the place he’d been trying to reach for years. His heart ached with gladness and guilt. His people were alive and he hoped he was remembered as someone who had helped them get here rather than part of the reason so many of them were gone.

Information gleaned here and there told him that Valkyrie had taken up the position of king and that Thor was temporarily away in another realm. Of those he had known well, who was even left?

Merriment from a nearby tavern drew his attention, the nostalgic scent of mead and the sound of tales being told. Amid the bustle of Asgardians and humans alike, he caught sight of a man he had thought equally as lost. As much as he feared being hated by this man, Loki was too desperate for connection not to take the risk.

He plucked up a stool and set it beside the warrior, no matter what engaged him. Though he did not drop his disguise, Loki allowed the familiarity of his voice to carry.

▋   “plots please” for Lester and Tony because why not unleash complete dumb chaos.  𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈   @heroiisms​​ .  .  . ┖  send 'plots please’   ┒

➊   I want violence between these two, and while that isn’t entirely unique for Bullseye, I want him to enjoy having an adversary. Again, not really unique but still very rare. He enjoys going toe-to-toe with Elektra, only really enjoyed going up against Daredevil when he, himself, ends up victorious, and then there’s damn Frank Castle who is fun to poke at but is rather insufferable. I think Tony could be an interesting person for Bullseye to fight against because he can learn a lot about other people’s fighting styles by watching how Masters handles himself in combat. Furthermore, what’s Master’s motivation for anything really. What this is really leading up to is: exploring the tricky thing about memories, SHIELD bullshit, HYDA bullshit, general thrill of the hunt. What if they both come back fresh from the blip and are trying to make sense of the world. Masters comes back to a job, and Bullseye comes back with a renewed sense of killing and maiming. There are other big players who have moved in on his ‘territory’, even people still coping with Thanos’ actions, and Bullseye swoops in to create his own little chaos. He gets on Walker’s case, nearly kills him, plays with him, and it leads to Masters and Bullseye getting to play, too. A foreign agency has hired Bullseye to take down Walker and implicate either James Barnes or Sam Wilson in the death, but at that point . . he’s just doing it for fun.

➋   How about . . . after the blip, people sort of forget about Bullseye. And with government officials being shady as ever, getting big players in their corner, they offer him a position in their ranks; after all, he was an excellent marksman when he served, though definitely did not excel at following orders. Valentina offers him the gig, though not directly, and everything he’s tasked to do are ultimate plays to put Walker in power. Naturally, this would bring Masters and Bullseye together with many bumps on the road. Bullseye would definitely be unruly and prove a hindrance down the road to Walker’s ultimate goals. Alternatively, the same plan but with MCU’s Benjamin instead. With Benjamin, it would be more professional, more room for actual joint missions, maybe form some sort of connection before the shit hits the fan; we could also say it was Valentina who authorized Dex’s surgery after Kingpin breaks his spine.

brock is leaner than his redneck walk had him believe. and it’s not venom, it’s the worldliness of appearing as a simpleton to get the first punch in, which brock, being the bottom feeder he was, had. at the life foundation. that was carlton’s mistake.

maybe brock’s not all clean as a whistle upstairs. maybe there’d be resistance if carlton blew into one of his ears geeently to mind the draft, and now he strains his neck up to entertain his own joke.

the tendons holding his throat from collapsing grab against the pressure. his head snaps up BOO!-fast, nudging brock’s nose on its cartilage with his own before brock slams him back down.

the very fact of nature is that mothers are hosts; they’re the baby food. in better cases, it’s a tooth for a child, a defanging tit for tat. the more children you have, the more compounded the risk of getting loose in the mouth. but you take it.

you take it, of course, for the future. you give up your hair and the calcium in your now-geriatric’s bones if it goes on for too long without a moment of respite.

riot has been feeding on him continuously. is that a surprise or an inevitability?

❛easy, brock, eeeasy. can’t take a joke, can you? you’re handling a couple billion dollars, give or take.❜

you fucking idiot.

he’s only met anne weying dolled up wrapper-tight like a christmas present once or twice. she was one of the corporate ants at a corporate fundraiser he never looked at, only past. he can still recite the last third of her social security number and how many hours of absence her sick leaves had amounted to. those were all hours someone else had to cover. money down the drain.

but he’s closer to venom now than he was to study. he can almost feel his thrum.

he’s been told his eyes are unnerving, like a lizard’s. must be the all-black, the nonnative threat of just existing in a status that allows him not to blink to appease social cues.

brock’s face has got a comical lot going on at all times. it pulls and betrays his feelings, and the stubble looks gritty and fittingly unprofessional.

that stubble scrapes like a carpet against a bristle brush when a paper-thin slice of mercury shaped like the devil’s tail rests under brock’s chin. if he pushes up or brock down, he’ll burst like a sack of blood.

that’s shiny new. he didn’t know he could do that.

eyes ticking in interest between brock’s, from his nose to his forehead to his mouth, carlton murmurs:

@heroiisms​ said:   We each make decisions according to our own moral compass. ( from M’Baku. yes, Yel, 7’ )          quotes from the curator’s parts in dark pictures: little hope

▋ 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑫 .  .  .  .  .  ❛ so apparently the 'bad vibes’ i’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress. ❜    𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈  @heroiisms​  .  .  .   ┖ incorrect quotes dialogue prompts ┒

The world was fine. An explosion of LIFE, an explosion of joy — a return to the smog littered and tree clearing planet Earth, yet everything was fine. It was the oddest time in history where overwhelming happiness mixed with the oil of past and future dread. Old worries surfaced from beyond the just closed wounds of grief like parasites escaping a host no longer viable, and the devil hued mutant watched with keen eye as the little monsters crawled free to infect others. Infect himself. When it came down to it, life on any planet contained its obstacles, and it mattered little how advanced human history was or how many creatures inhabited the earth. 

Charming, laid-back, and impeccably skilled at getting to people’s nerves, bathing in the ultra violet rays of the sun was the post-Thanos world Remy LeBeau indulged in. It wasn’t his obligation to solve the happy crises of a sudden outburst of re-population, nor was it the X-Men’s, and Remy truly took it to heart. The best time to unwind and bask in the happiness of having his fellow mutants return to life was right before the shit hit the fan. It WOULD hit . . It was already hitting. Sweat trickled down chest, back, neck, following the grooves of action-sculpted muscles as the sun continued to beat down and down. Skin sizzled. The formerly cold glass residing on the glass table adjacent to the lounge chair was sweating profusely. 

He heard the footsteps giving way through aptly grown grass, and a little part of Remy hoped it was someone clad in a bikini eager to take a dip in the pool. The bayou mutant waited and waited. The patio furniture beside him creaked gently, and the lack of anything flirtatious or snarky being uttered prompted the opening of eyelids. Of all the X-Men, he had not expected Hank to grace him with his presence . . what so far away from the lab or the office. Remy’s sweaty skin produced a wet noise as he shifted in the lounge chair, and fingers moved through unruly curls of auburn hairs to give his temple a modicum of relief.   

❝  Remy takes it you’re not here for a dip, mon ami; too dressed up fo’ dat. Somethin’ be on your, oui?  ❞  Matters with Raven, Scott, Wolverine, the world? The mutant kept his demeanor casual while worries circulated about his head; it almost made him feel guilty for lounging about as though there were no cares in the world. Hank’s words shocked him into silence, and Scott might have paid a hefty price to see the rare sight. A quizzical expression crossed his face, and he suddenly moved bare legs over the side of the lounge chair to better face Hank.

@heroiisms​ said: “  i don’t wanna talk about it. i don’t. i just need to forget.  ”( from Bucky )        comfort starters

The secret service agents weren't as gentle with the sleeve of her coat as she would have liked, which may have lead to a scene as the Contessa was firmly escorted back to the front lawn.  Yes, she’d tried to speed up the mission and it got her in trouble, but she’d still swiped the evidence they needed out of the dinning hall.  If the DNA matched their suspicions, a temporary ban from political events would be worth it...well, she’d miss the free lobsters.

The aftermath of what she intended to be a simple confrontation ended in a flurry of chaos and destruction.  Throwing darts buried in the walls or floors far from their target boards, chair legs splintered and sprinkled on the 80s style carpet.  Most of the conflict, surprisingly, didn’t involve them, but further proved the man they were hunting down had some dangerous enemies.  Or allies, she wasn’t quite sure.  Either way, she’d ducked behind the bar when things started getting really ugly and popped back up to see Barnes on the other side. "Drink up!  I broke it so we need to buy it anyway."  She fetched a bottle from behind her, pouring it out, and half heartedly sliding a drink in his direction.  Then smashing the bottle to scare off another bystander.