#i seen all the timelines and in most of them i am correct

[asphodelirium]

my predictions for the end of Arcane, because I have overthinking and daydreaming problems

[local-diavolo-anon]

i apologise if i'm posting this much about the DLC but i am very excited

so theory time! this time about Glamrock Bonnie!

someone found Glamrock Bonnie in bonnie bowl and someonw else got his pieces from the gamefiles and stuck the model back together (the images are not mine, i have no idea who even psoted them ebcause they've been reposted a crapload of times, but i know the originals came from twitter)

i feel a bit sad than logically he was there the whole time during the main game as well and we simply couldn't see him

but also: He has claw marks on his chest, which i think pretty much confirms that monty is the one that broke him apart.

however. that's not nearly enough damage to decommission a glamrock animatronic, as we have seen.

hell monty looks like this in the dlc and he is still kicking (probably by the power of god tho) and i remember seeing THIS video some time ago, so let me bring you something a bit painful:

most people i've seen pinpoin monty's actions toward bonnie as envy and resentment, however in monty golfs whenever we see character cutouts or holograms Freddy is the one in the shadows, always. wouldn't have made it more sense for monty to try and attack someone he quite clearly disliked instead of bonnie? we know freddy and bonnie were close, so with some stretch you could even say monty was jealous of freddy's relationship with bonnie (but i'm not going to account that here) If the theory from that video is true and bonnie was the first and only trial test of the grlitchtrap virus on a full glamrock animatronic, what if monty noticed? what if monty saw that bonnie was acting weird, and when confronted him realized something was severely wong for a reason or another? and either to prevent the spread of the virus, OR simply out of self preservation he was forced to fight with bonnie? because if the mimic were to see someone noticed him, he'd likely try and make them disappear in one way or another so my theory-timeline is: Bonnie was infected, started acting weird, wandered around and ultimately ended in monty golf, monty saw him and went to him, then noticed something was wrong, bonnie attacked him to make sure nobody knew, and monty had to defend himself.

i'm fairly sure this is at least somewhat correct because Monty's claws can do some serious damage, and definitely more than what Bonnie's torso and head show. (edit: yes even without upgrade, Monty still has very big and sharp claws, realistically they could totally do that amount of damage, + in the original draft of the game, from Monty you were supposed to take his legs, and the claw upgrade was not a thing at all, yet it was always hinted he did caused bonnie's decommission)

all of this to say that bonnie more likely was decommissioned not because of the damage, but rather because because when technicians tried to fix him they noticed something had infected him, and to prevent any further spreading they were forced to deactivate him.

[lukolabrainrot]

For me it seems obvious that if N was to bring anyone who is not obviously work related and especially L, today all everyone would be talking about would be her relationship. SM, gossip mongers and everyone in between, would completely dismiss HER ACHIEVEMENTS and make it about a man. Bridgerton has become a BIG pop culture moment and them getting together would become a huge one as well, especially after leading the most successful season as a romantic couple. If they already were a public couple with craziness of the first days calmed down and a few public appearances, then yes he would be seen as just a supportive partner. For now though it would be nothing but complete shift of attention from her to them, him. So it actually makes sense for her to walk red carpet on her own.

I understand why people are tired of all the teasing most of us are excited on their behalf, but let’s not forget it is not our lives, it is theirs, and they are real people who will move on their own pace, as they should. Where is all that patience we have all been talking about? If only we would stop getting impatient trying to prove some point, pay attention to N/L only, dismissing all the unnecessary noise, and stop getting triggered every time we see them hanging out with people other then each other or not give us the information we want on OUR timeline I think we will get good news much sooner.

They have indeed been playfully teasing us, I think because they are not quite ready to the intensity of attention they will receive when it becomes public knowledge (I mean they went through WT they can imagine what to expect) but they know that there are people who are excited and eager for a possibility of them together, so they give us little clues and hints that that might indeed be happening. I also think they underestimated the insanity of some of this fandom because instead of accepting what we are given and being quietly excited for them, they got angry about their narrative not being proven correct when someone else invaded her privacy to prove theirs’. I fear that might force them into quiet and we will get absolutely nothing from here. If past few months prove anything it’s that if they didn’t wish us to we would know 💩. I mean… where indeed IS L, we have not seen him (except for a blurry reflection and his hands) for months, 🤨 all we have is because they wished us to have it.

I remain hopeful for now that my first theory of those crumbs might be correct, which is that now with all this publicity out of the way for N (hopefully) they will get on set for BRT, and with security of closed set as well as supportive people around them will feel comfortable sharing their news while having an ability to be out of the public eye during the initial, inevitable insanity such news will cause. If I were in their position I would have acted like that, but again it is I, they will do things their way, so we should just sit down and wait patiently. And you know what? After past few days of public whiplash I kind of feel hopeful, good things usually come when you least expect them.

Ps. I am kind of shocked at my positivity, usually I am much more pessimistic.

I love this positivity Anon!!

I think I just had expectations for this trip (and you know what they say about expectations lol).

I think I just needed to touch some grass and remember to be patient and know that I don't actually know these people. When they want us to know, we will...

[okiankeno]

Ofc most people who think damien is a monster are under 25. Their view of morality is skewed. Also can you even explain how he was being passive agressive? Cuz i read all his tweets and dont see it. But i am a stupid autist so what do i know..

Ok, I got two of these asks so I'm going to answer from my POV what I'm seeing. First of all, a shot at my age is very mature for introducing your argument (this is sarcasm). I never said that Damien is a monster. I am not demonizing him. Damien is admittedly one of my favourites on Smosh, and I think as fans, we are allowed to identify when someone you are a fan of does something wrong. I stated in my previous reblog that how he handled his interactions with Zayna was poor. You are putting words in my mouth, but I digress. My long-winded explanation of Damien's interactions being passive-aggressive is under the cut.

I'm going to straight up pull the Google search of 'passive aggressive' here.

Expressing negative feelings indirectly instead of openly talking about them. There are multiple instances of it in the interactions with Zayna and others in my opinion. However, I feel that people have different takes on passive-aggressiveness, so feel free to share with me what you think being passive-aggressive looks like. The points I will describe below are my interpretations of situation.

1) I think the most abundant example of passive-aggressiveness is Damien blocking multiple accounts, escpecially Zayna after he had apologized. Blocking someone implies you do not want to hear or see someone's thoughts on your timeline, literally blocking them out (until you choose to unblock them). He is not open to communicating further with people or does not want to communicate with them at all. I understand how this can be seen as him looking out for himself, but generally, blocking is considered a negative action, thus the action is passive-aggressive. Damien blocked some people on Twitter who have not even interacted with Damien nor even said anything remotely negative about him. Here is one such example:

I call this passive-aggressiveness due to the lack of communication with Damien and the negative context of blocking multiple accounts. It is providing more tension and confusion to others without explaining anything. We see the result of this lack of communication with the Twitter user above as it leaves something to be explained, the other party wondering, "What did I do wrong?" This is especially upsetting in the case of Zayna as reaching an apology with someone should not result in another person blocking another. I will expand on this idea below.

2) In Damien's interactions with Zayna, the passive-aggressiveness is much worse. Anon, I want you to imagine you are in a situation where someone has apologized to you. An apology is reached when one party realizes they have done wrong and acknowledges that the other party is correct in some way. It is an agreement.

Here is an interaction chain between Zayna and Damien, after their initial confrontation. It appears they have reached a common ground or the agreement I aforentioned. Unfortunately, the original reaction from Damien and the original post that Zayna had requested Damien for an apology are deleted, and I do not have that screenshotted, so we will go with what evidence I have here.

First tweet with an apology, third sentence: "While I'll never understand looking to old content to somehow negate the present, I do apologize, plain and simple."

Here, his apology is mixed - there's tension. If he truly understands the need for an apology, why mention the quote I highlighted above? In an apology, would you appreciate it if the other party apologized, but stated that they don't quite understand why they are apologizing? No. I wouldn't be satisfied with that, and you shouldn't either if you are expecting an apology. He could have ended the apology with the first few sentences. To me, it feels like a half-hearted apology given his choice of words in his third and fourth sentences.

Compare the previous apology to the second image on the right. Damien agrees that he is in the wrong here and essentially will learn from his mistakes. This is an apology with no conflict or passive-aggressiveness. There are no conflicting ideas within this tweet, unlike the previous apology on the left.

By this point, it seems that Zayna and Damien have reached a common ground and the conversation is over. This changes with the next tweet Damien sends on the left image:

Here, Zayna is replying to the deleted tweet on the left. I think this, above all, is a good example of Damien being passive aggressive because:

3) it's a direct display of miscommunication, where Damien outlines his unmet expectations of the interaction post-apology. This tweet contains a critique towards Zayna "If that wasn't your goal [depicting Damien as a bad person], your methods confuse me tbh" followed by a positive end note that comes off as strange given his opening statement. It feels like a backhanded compliment. Zayna got what she requested (an apology) but Damien is questioning her methods and even requesting something from her (Damien implies he wants tweets to be deleted after apologizing). And then he wishes her family and herself well? Do you see how this doesn't quite add up?

This could be genuine confusion on Damien's side, but given that both parties before this appeared to have reached a consensus of some sort, I don't think this is the case. Damien prolongs the conflict; he continues the conversation with Zayna, having expectations for what he envisions the resolution of the argument to be. This was not communicated to Zayna as demonstrated in her reply and she is rightfully confused. This is very weird – why is Damien, who has apologized, now provoking Zayna again if the conversation has ended? If Damien wanted to resolve this more directly, he could have also reached out in direct messages rather than continuing this publicly on Twitter just as he states in his tweet.

4) this is more about the dramatic irony of the situation, but I think it is also Damien being passive-aggressive – the 19k followers comment. This really puzzled me. Damien pointing out the follower count of Zayna and stating that she is depicting him as a bad person is exactly what Damien is doing as well by continuing the conversation in the way he did. He adds fuel back to the fire implying this conversation is not over as Zayna did not resolve his apology (... but shouldn't he take responsibility for this issue if he is apologizing for it?) to his liking. Damien has 266k followers on Twitter as of the last time I checked, and (I want to believe this) unknowingly has depicted Zayna in the wrong by exposing his followers to this. Additionally, In a previous tweet, Damien said he would learn from reacting in frustration. I think this again is him doing exactly that, reacting in frustration with this tweet but then deleting the tweet after. His actions are backtracking upon himself.

Now, to address something else but on the same topic: I'm not sure if you are aware, but Zayna has said she received death threats from Damien / Smosh fans. See below.

I bring this up because you mentioned that my view of morality is skewed. At what point in any of the arguments in this post or what I reblogged, have I earned the title of broken moral compass? Again, I have not once stated he is a monster in my posts. This is you interpreting my words, Anon.

I am trying to defend my opinion on how I see that Damien's interactions with Zayna have been handled poorly and that he was passive-aggressive, and it has resulted in this – death threats and a whole lot of controversy on multiple social media platforms. There's a lot of collateral damage that has been done within the Smosh community.

If death threats and Damien needing to take a Twitter break from an this interaction are not a great indication of a situation spiraling out of control as a result of Damien's responses, I'm not sure what else I can tell you, Anon. I hope I have made myself clear.

As a side note, I did not appreciate you coming into my asks, and insulting me without providing any arguments to your cause. If you continue to speak to me in the same manner, come off anon and let me block you (or vice-versa, block me). We will not see eye to eye with each other and never will if we cannot present our words without malice. It will be beneficial for both of us to not aggravate each other.

Before I end my answer, I want to reiterate that I do like Damien (personally less now given the situation at hand, but I digress), and I think you and I share this opinion at least. You are allowed to like something and be disappointed in it in tandem. I want him to come out of his break with a good answer for his actions. I hope he comes out of his Twitter detox with a clear mind and learns from this experience.

Anon(s) that sent this in, I hope that this answers your questions.

[lynnuvo]

✧*̥˚ Tag-Along! *̥˚✧

Characters: Tomoko Aimi (OC), Homura Akemi, Madoka Kaname, Sayaka Miki, & Kyoko Sakura (Commissioned/Requested ♡ Thank you! I did my best with the provided information. I still have some things to learn about the Madoka Magica Universe, so it was an adventure to research while making this. I hope you like it!)

In the vast world of possibilities, many theories exist in attempts to explain how life worked. Was reincarnation real? Was there really a concept of Heaven and Hell? Was there only one version of the universe, or did a multitude of timelines exist?

In the world of Madoka Magica, it happened to be that timelines were how the universe could sort varying actions and circumstances that could be brought up at any time at any place.

It also happened that in just about every timeline, Tomoko Aimi drowned to death.

About 13 to 14 years of age, Tomoko Aimi was a girl who some wouldn't have expected to make it far in life--not because of potential but rather the situation she was in. After all, it wasn't easy for orphans to gain an upper hand over other children. Merely surviving was a struggle, for she lived alone in a small apartment complex. Job searching came out fruitless; not many companies or even family-owned shops were willing to consider such a young candidate for employment. Money was, therefore, tight, and it got even tighter as time passed. To avoid authorities, Tomoko's state of living remained under wraps, but like money, support was little.

Despite these struggles, the girl was a child at heart. Laughter rang in the classroom in her reaction to a classmate's joke. Her smile brightened her teacher's heart whenever she was praised for a correct answer. Whenever she fell for a prank (and believe it or not, she always did), she chased her companions around and plotted revenge (sometimes they failed; sometimes they didn't). When classes weren't in session, she could be seen in the fields with those same companions skipping rope, blowing bubbles, or playing imaginary games. Although home was little to smile over, it was these moments with people she cherished that made life worth living.

Most notably, two people who come to mind when Tomoko thought about who she cherished met her in the most unexpected of ways. It all began when Tomoko stumbled upon the strangest cat she had ever seen on a shortcut to her favorite lunch spot.

The cat of white and pink eyes stared at her as she made her way closer. When the distance closed in, Tomoko bent down on her knees with eyes of wonderment. "Woah, you look cute. I want to take you home!"

With a blink, the cat ran off.

"Hey, wait!" Tomoko tightened her school bag on her shoulder and chased after the creature. "Hold on! I'm not that scary, right?!"

In pursuit of the animal, she watched as the alley she was just in transformed into a strange labyrinth. She stopped in her tracks once her entire environment seemed to expand tenfold. Her heart beat faster as a tall, dark lady built like a skeleton rose from the ground while music played out of nowhere.

The creature stopped running, blinked at her again, and leaped at her. Tomoko let out a small shriek and allowed her reflexes to catch the cat, who remained passive. When a fuzzy ball with legs popped out of thin air not so far ahead of them, the girl stepped back. "What did you get us into...? What in the world is THIS?!"

"STAY RIGHT THERE!"

Tomoko's eyes darted to the shout of the feminine voice to find its owner flying the air, scoping at the towering, skeleton-like lady with a musket. A loud BANG! echoed in the air. Tomoko flinched and recovered herself to see another girl flying her way.

This one was adorned in a dress of pink and white, with matching messy pigtails. She rested a hand on Tomoko's shoulder. "Don't be afraid. We've got this."

A tear ran down Tomoko's eyes. "I am so scared right now..."

WHOOSH! Another girl, this one with red glasses and a black and purple outfit, appeared to Tomoko's other side. She offered a small nod and a smile. "Trust us. Mami-san and Kaname-san won't let anything bad happen to us."

And so, Tomoko watched in awe as the two girls left to join their other companion in a battle that Tomoko thought she could only see in movies. The defeat of the skeleton-lady came with a crash. The world around her wobbled away to reveal the alley again, but the three girls remained.

The tallest pushed her princess curls out of her face and picked a small item up to pocket it away. She strode over to Tomoko and gave the creature still in her arms a stink eye. It jumped away and ran to the pink-themed girl, who yelped with joy. The tall girl rested a hand on her chest. "I apologize for the scene you just witnessed. I'm guessing Kyubey wants you, though, if you haven't fallen under hypnosis by the witch and could see it and us."

"Witch?"

"Are you hungry? I can explain over lunch. My name's Mami Tomoe."

"Lunch?! I'm so hungry, yes please!" The pink-haired girl exclaimed with a jump. "I'm Madoka Kaname, pleasure to meet you!"

The black-haired girl stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her. "I'm Ho--"

Tomoko gasped. "Wait. I've seen you before in the halls, I think. At school. Do you go to Mitakihara Middle School?"

"I do. We all do, actually," the black-haired girl replied with a blush. "I'm Homura Akemi. We fight witches of pain and despair, though I'm much newer at it."

"Woah, magical girls?!" Tomoko leaned forward. "I wanna hear me!"

Mami chuckled. "Then, let's hurry. We were just headed to this cafe I found last week. I hope we'll like it."

Over a hearty meal, Mami--the oldest of the group--shared the purpose and history of Magical Girls while emphasizing the risk they had to take in their everyday lives in order to keep the universe safe. It was quite a shock to hear that such otherworldly beings blended into normal civilians like her. Mami also shared that the cat (who lounged on the table) Tomoko caught is an Incubator named Kyubey. It granted Mami and Madoka their wishes, and Mami joked it was only a matter of time before Homura and Tomoko made their wishes as well.

After cleaning up, the four left the cafe and stopped walking at an intersection before parting ways. Mami reached her hand out to Tomoko. "If you'd like, you could come with us to fight witches before making your decision. It is quite literally life or death, so it's best you be informed of what you're getting into."

Madoka rushed over and took ahold of Tomoko's hands with a smile. "That would be awesome! We'll keep you safe, I promise."

Pink dusting her cheeks, Tomoko smiled back. "Sure!"

And so, for the following month, the four journeyed through a multitude of labyrinths whenever Tomoko had time. Mami, as the unspoken leader of the group, was always at the front of these fights, so Homura and Madoka spent much of their time closer to Tomoko in the labyrinths protecting her while battling. As a newcomer, the girl looked up to them so much. Even outside of Magical Girl activities, Tomoko spent some time with her new friends, though mostly the two who were in her grade level. She followed them around in school and asked them to play with her whenever something excited showed up. Once, she convinced Madoka and Homura to join a merry-go-round with her. It was easy for an outsider to tell who had the most childlike joy in the trio.

Tomoko, unlike two others in the quad, didn't have an obligation to go witch hunting since she hadn't contracted yet. Despite not having a family waiting for her at home, she wasn't quite ready to commit all of her time to the life of a Magical Girl. She still needed to find food to bring home, after all. It was already enough she was hoping someone would bring up eating out after every battle.

"Can I please have this one? I'll pay you back again as soon as I get the money!" Tomoko pleaded while pointing to a bowl of ramen at the current restaurant's menu. "I already paid you back for the ice cream I ate last time, remember?"

"Tomoko-chan, must you always be indebted to me?" Homura chuckled before she ordered the desired meal.

When they returned to the table where the other two sat, Mami smiled. "Did Homura get you something again? She's kind, but it's not good to take advantage of your friends."

Tomoko's cheeks exploded in red. "I'm not! I swear! I paid her back for everything eventually. I normally don't have money on me when we go on these trips. They come up so suddenly..."

Madoka laughed. "You'll definitely benefit from a wallet, then."

"I think keeping her money on her would enable her to spend much more than she already is, don't you think?" Mami winked.

Tomoko pouted. "Hey!"

Other than searching for food, Tomoko spent time with her other companions at school. She enjoyed playing with them any chance she got, which was usually more than once a week. They distracted her from the struggles of an orphan and made her feel less alone in the wide world. With every laugh, she imagined growing up and going on more adult hangouts with these people. Although she didn't have a biological family to chase her until she was caught for an onslaught of tickles, she felt she had finally had some sort of found-family.

So why was it that Tomoko's breath was extinguished underwater?

One moment, she was playing Hide-and-Seek while drinking juice with her friends. And the next, the instinct to live shot her awake as her feet and arms flailed for some sort of surface to hold onto or stand on. She couldn't even open her eyes without water flushing in, blocking her vision.

Where was she? Where were her friends? Why weren't they saving her? These questions, unfortunately, would go unanswered. With no way to get to safety, Tomoko succumbed to the pitch black.

Or at least, that was until white light spread from the center of her "vision." A sparkly path of purple immediately grew from the center and winded its way towards Tomoko until it was out of her vision. Arms emerged from the center of the bright light until the body of a girl in a three-layered, white and pink frilly dress came into full view. The dress was unlike any she'd ever seen: longer than the girl's own feet Pink hair as long and shiny as that of a princess and sleeves as wavy as a summer breeze, she opened her arms in one graceful motion.

"Tomoko-chan," she spoke in a crisp voice and a smile. "I've come to save you."

Madoka....

She watched as Madoka took her hand, a strange view since Tomoko couldn't see the rest of her body or even control the part visible. Madoka rested one of her own hands on her chest. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you died. So much has happened since you left us, but I'm here now. A friend of mine is here to explain everything. Please, if I give you life, will you watch over Homura for me?"

Was that even a question?

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"Hey? Hello! HELLO!"

Gasping for breath, Tomoko slowly opened her eyes to see the face of a girl with short blue hair so close to her that their noses almost touched. Eyes widening, the girl backed away to reveal her royal heroine-like outfit, with the top and skirt of her strapless button-down top the color of a deep ocean while the torso was donned in white.

Her hands rested on her hips as she wore a slight frown. "Hey, are you okay? Madoka said you might be a bit disoriented. Do you remember her?"

"Madoka-san..." Tomoko pushed her lethargic body up as much as she could, though her hands almost slipped on the sleek colorful floor. The mysterious girl rushed over to help her sit up. Tomoko held her hand weakly and looked around at the wide expanse of her location--a building that was void of even objects. "I do. I remember drowning--I think--Madoka-san came to save me. She looked kind of different--like a princess."

"Do you remember what happened to you and Madoka before you died?"

"Um. She wasn't there right before I died, but I remember her. Her, Homura-san, and Mami-san, actually. We were going on adventures fighting witches, except Homura-san and I didn't make our wishes yet. I needed to see if I was ready for that life. I guess I died before I could even think of a wish though...

The girl blinked before letting out a sigh. "So you do remember. Thank goodness." She suddenly stood upright, smiled, and placed a hand on her chest. "The name's Sayaka Miki. What's yours?"

"Tomoko...Tomoko Aimi."

"Well then, let's stay here for a bit while you recover, Tomoko-chan." Sayaka sat down beside her, knees to her chest and arms spread behind her. "Let's see....where should I begin...? I guess I can start with Madoka. This is going to be a lot."

Sayaka's long explanation began with sharing that Madoka was able to revive Tomoko through the Law of Cycles, a concept created by Madoka's wish to erase witches before they are born. Sayaka herself was also saved by Madoka after her death as a witch. Since Tomoko hadn't gotten the chance to make her decision, Madoka chose to offer grace: Tomoko could become a Magical Girl in another timeline in exchange for life.

"Are you not coming with me, Miki-san?" Tomoko questioned when Sayaka told her to get up in preparation for the outside world.

The girl shook her head with a smile. "I've had my fill of fighting witches. It's your turn, now."

Although hesitant to leave without her, Tomoko nodded, turned around, and walked towards the door. Before she could reach for the knob, the building around her wobbled away until she was left in a familiar alley--the same alley she had first met Madoka, Homura, and Mami in. Speaking of the three, where were they? Did they even exist in this timeline? In search of answers, Tomoko sprinted towards Mami's apartment.

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"Madoka...? Who is that?"

Tomoko gaped. "You don't remember Madoka-san? Our friend?"

Mami tilted her head. "No...? Is this someone we've met before?"

"Yes! We've fought with her and--!"

Homura, who had been silent since Tomoko's arrival into the apartment (other than a simple greeting), rested a hand on her shoulder while maintaining eye contact with Mami. "Tomoko, I think you're feeling unwell. Your nightmares might be acting up."

"Huh? I didn't--!"

Homura squeezed her shoulder.

Tomoko pursed her lips. "Okay. Maybe I have...; I've been sleeping late recently."

Mami set her cup of black tea down with a hearty chuckle. "You worried me there for a moment! I couldn't imagine forgetting a fellow Magical Girl, nonetheless one who is our friend." She glanced at the clock in her room. "Since you have been sleeping late, it's best you head home now for bed. I wouldn't want to worsen your sleep quality."

Homura stood. "I'll take her home. I don't trust her to get there safely alone."

"Hey!"

Mami laughed and waved the two farewell. Once she shut the door behind them, they walked side by side down the apartment stairs and began in the direction of Tomoko's apartment in silence. Awkward was not something Tomoko was good at dealing with, and neither was the quiet. She peeked at this timeline's Homura. It was odd to see her friend without glasses, and it was even more so that Homura's aura gave off a much colder impression than her previously shy, ditzy self. Her free-flowing long, black hair made her appear much more mature than her old braids did. While Tomoko felt it suited how she saw Homura, actually seeing it in person just didn't feel right.

Homura caught her gaze. "How do you remember Madoka?"

"Huh. Oh. Um--I just do."

"No one here remembers her. She doesn't exist."

"What? That's not possible..."

"Tell me." Homura stepped closer to her. "Do you recall a god-like Madoka? When was the last time you've seen her?"

"I-uh-I...." She wasn't sure if the truth was meant to be a secret, but Homura's eyes would have forced it out of her anyway. Tomoko bit her lip and nodded. "I just saw her. I'm not sure how, though. I just appeared somewhere around here. Did I still exist before I came? The me right now, I mean."

"I see. Yes, you did. Me, you, and Mami fight Wraiths, what grief embodies into."

"Wraiths? What happened to witches?"

"They don't exist here. You're not supposed to remember that." Homura took out a circle shield. "According to your story, we were friends in your timeline. We are friends in this timeline as well. We should act as such. And as a friend, I request you give me any possible lead that will bring me to Madoka."

"I--sure! Yes! Of course!" Tomoko exclaimed, lifting her arms to her chest. "I actually don't really know much. All that really happened was that I met this blue-haired girl named Sayaka.....Sayaka something. I think her name was Sayaka Miki, but I can't remember."

"Hm." Homura started towards Tomoko's apartment again. "She's no longer with us. No matter. I will drop you off at home and meet you here everyday before school starts. I will message you about anything else. I ask you to keep Madoka a secret from the others."

"Got it!"

Although nervous at first, the two began hunting Wraiths together with Mami--sometimes without her if Homura wished or they stumbled upon one alone. It was a surreal experience getting used to Homura's abilities, especially her onslaught of armory. Even her strategies gave her spine chills. They were much more calculated and daring. Most of the time, Homura was the one aiming for the Wraiths while Tomoko fought off the minions. It took a while to get used to Tomoko's own abilities. The first couple battles, Homura excused themselves from Mami due to illness so Tomoko could practice. According to the purple-haired companion, it would be suspicious if Tomoko suddenly lost her skills. Once she gained them back, however, she felt so powerful and weightless. It was no wonder Magical Girls had a type of confidence normal civilians didn't.

One day, after fighting a witch, Homura treated Tomoko to ice cream. Holding her cone, she sat beside Homura on a bench and licked her sweet treat. "Homura-san, did you find any leads on Madoka-san?"

The girl furrowed her brows. "No."

"Oh." Silence ensued for a moment as Tomoko continued licking her ice cream. "What did you wish for to become a Magical Girl?"

"I...I wished to redo my first meeting with Madoka with the power necessary to protect her."

"Really? What happened to Madoka-san for you to wish for such a thing?"

Homura stared up at the night sky. "In another timeline, she saved the world from an incredibly strong witch named Walpurgisnacht. I couldn't bear the thought of my dear friend leaving me in such a sacrifice. But she is too selfless for her own good. No matter where I went, no matter what I did, she refused to live without interfering with the way Kyubey's world worked. Finally, she made a wish that saved Magical Girls from becoming witches at the cost of her own existence. I need to find her again."

Homura looked at Tomoko and pulled out her shield. "I'm sorry, Tomoko-chan. I need to leave."'

"Where are you going?"

"To another timeline."

Tomoko's eyes widened. "Wait, you're not leaving me here, are you?!"

The gears in the shield whirred alive. Homura's eyes darted away. "I'm sorry."

"WAIT! DON'T JUST--!"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

As if fate played some silly game, Tomoko awoke as a familiar standing by Homura. She could barely talk, only making some noises. She wasn't sure what witch she was a familiar of, but what was unusual was that she was the only creature there.

"Are you really here again?" Homura muttered, staring at her.

"AODAOIDAOIDWDIJIA?!"

"I told you last time I'll end you at your witch. Why must you keep trailing after me?"

Huh? What did that mean? She didn't recall being associated with a witch or even receiving a disapproval to follow Homura. If anything, Homura requested it. Could it be that Tomoko's subconscious awoke in another version of her? It made sense, the longer her mind dwelled on it. In the previous timeline, she didn't remember fighting with Homura and Mami as a trio of Magical Girls. That Tomoko existed before this Tomoko took over. It could very well be the same case in this universe.

Homura pulled out a gun from her skirt and pointed it at Tomoko. "Thank you for your company, but I can't risk explaining my mercy towards you to other Magical Girls. It will give them ideas. It's already concerning that Kyoko almost caught us."

"AIDJWID?!"

BANG!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Oh great. Another life as a familiar. At least she was a more cute, humanoid looking one!

Tomoko lifted her head from the puddle she was staring at. Ahead of her was the end of the dark alley she had appeared in. There was no way she could travel to Mami's apartment in this state; her head would be blown off again. Without a clue for where to go, the girl--er, familiar--wandered the streets. The way normal civilians ignored her presence sent a sinking feeling in her gut. Her heart panged watching other children blow bubbles without her.

As she wandered closer to an arcade, the environment around her wobbled alive. Startled, Tomoko spun around to watch as familiars unlike her came alive. A huge cotton-ball creature with dolls as eyes erupted from the ground with a howl.

What do I do?! I can't fight that thing as this!

"Perfect! I was just in the area!"

Out of nowhere, a girl with messy red hair flew from the right and launched straight into the monster. Tomoko stood, mouth agape, as the girl jumped away while red liquid gushed out of the creature, who roared in protest. Its familiars charged towards her, but her spear broke apart into bars chained together. She flung the bars around, knocking the familiars into oblivion. With one ferocious attack after another, it didn't take long for the labyrinth to wobble away.

The girl strode towards a grief seed, picked it up, and held it against her soul gem. "Hehe, yes. Just what I needed."

Tomoko stared at her back. She wasn't sure how the girl didn't spot her. Maybe she was invisible? Her case was unique, after all. Still, it was best to not be seen. Thankfully, the color scheme of her being allowed her to blend into the alley behind the arcade well. She didn't have much to do and not much caught her attention outside of what just happened, so Tomoko followed the mysterious girl as she walked away. The girl walked into a supermarket, bought nothing, entered a bookstore, bought nothing, ran across a park, entered a bakery, and sat down. Tomoko slid into the booth chair opposite of her and watched as the girl read the menu.

Once she ordered a dish loaded with toppings, she fanned her face with the menu and looked straight ahead. "Why are you following me?"

So she could see her?! Tomoko's figure trembled in confusion. "AIDOADADODJA!"

"Yeah, I have no idea what you just said. It's weird you aren't attacking me. And you don't look like that witch's familiars, either." The girl pointed her menu at Tomoko. "Did somebody send you?"

"AOIJA!"

"Uh. Okay...; I have no clue what that means either." She tossed the menu to Tomoko. "I'm too starved to think too much right now."

Tomoko stared at the menu, but her thoughts turned elsewhere. How could witches exist here and not the other timeline if Madoka had rid of them? Was there something in the Law of Cycles she had misinterpreted or missed altogether? Or could it be that witches who already existed before Madoka made her wish were able to live?

A piping hot batch of pancakes loaded with syrup, whipped cream, parsley (who in the world orders pancakes with parsley, especially in a bakery?) arrived with five huge strawberries hugged by small blueberries.

Pondering about the logic of the universe could wait another time!

She watched in absolute envy as the girl started eating the delicious meal. If only she was in that position....

The girl peeped up at Tomoko and swallowed. "You can't actually eat, can you?"

"AADWDIJ?"

She pushed the plate towards Tomoko. "Try it."

With ease, Tomoko picked up a spoon and dined away. The girl glanced around, but no one seemed to care. In fact, it didn't look like any of them could spot a floating spoon. After another bite, Tomoko pouted as the plate was taken from her.

"Okay. That's enough for you. I don't know what kind of familiar you are, but if you can eat and understand me, that's weird enough. Weird in a cool way." The girl stabbed a pancake and grinned. "The name's Kyoko Sakura. What's yours?"

"ASIDJW ADIAWDW."

"Er....okay.....; you know what? We can head over to my place after this so you can get a pen. You're not going to stab me in the back later, are you?"

Tomoko shook her head violently.

"Hah. That's sick! And you can see me fighting the witch."

Tomoko nodded.

"You got anywhere to be?"

Tomoko shook her head again.

"Nice, nice." Kyoko's eyes brightened. "Let's go fight more witches! I need to collect more grief seeds to keep them on hand. Actually, I don't know if you can fight, but I can show you how cool I am while fighting. And if I get hurt, I guess you can find some other Magical Girl to come get me, right?"

Tomoko nodded eagerly.

"A familiar on a Magical Girl's side, wow. I'm totally blaming myself for trusting you if you backstab me. Here, let me cut you a piece of this pancake." She turned around. "Excuse me, miss! Can I have a small plate? I like to portion out my bites."

Tomoko watched as Kyoko cut a slice of her pancake and offered a couple berries. At last, the familiar let out a sigh that somehow went inaudible. That was probably something she'd have to understand about familiars. She'd have to understand so many new things, actually. And she'll definitely have to find Homura eventually, though she guessed the black-haired friend would eventually appear since she mentioned a Kyoko previously.

All of that can be accomplished another time, however. For now, she'd enjoy a sweet treat with someone who could possibly become her new friend.

[baek-at-it-again95]

Walk The Plank (KHJ x fem reader)

Chapter 16: If Without You

You had grown up hearing tales about the infamous pirate crew ATEEZ—the fearless, power-hungry men that roamed the seas in search of the most valuable treasure they could lay their hands on. You almost didn’t believe the stories your mother had told you as a child...not until you wound up on their ship  

Warnings for this chapter: tall heights, soft mingi lol, angsty!

A/N: HI ATINY BABIES! It’s been a while! I wrote half of this before seeing TXT and then my brain was fried for the weeks following... I hope you are all enjoying your summer so far <3

Previous: Chapter 15, Masterlist

Chapter 16: If Without You

"I have something I want to show you."

You follow Hongjoong as he leads you outside, a comfortable silence falling between you. It's a nice break from the previous chaos. 

You pass by a flower field that is beautiful in the moonlight, and you realize that the building you just left is surrounded by a farm. It's on the outskirts of a city, which looks like the Sector One you had jumped from moments ago. You space in and out as you follow Hongjoong, sometimes glancing at his hat from behind, wondering if he knows you're looking at him.

"You were not lying when you said your Sector One was similar," you mumble. He looks back at you, waiting for you to catch up to his side before answering.

"Did you not believe me?"

"No, I just...did not imagine there could be so much of the same thing in all these different worlds."

"Humans are very repetitive beings," he replies, wide eyes glistening in the moonlight. "Their history seems to repeat in similar patterns, whether from one world or another. Things that are present in one are present in the next."

You look at him curiously. "Do you think that is a good thing?"

"I believe it can be a good and bad thing. For example, bad, because you, me, and our alternates seem to be wanted in different timelines." You play with your fingers nervously at his statement. "But also good, since we are together in those worlds, as well."

"So perhaps it is beyond just a simple repetitive history. Like... fate," you suggest.

"That is true. Though, I would rather it not be."

"Why?"

"Fate is such a set concept. Like there can only be one option and one outcome, you know?"

"I see. You do not like your fate, if this is what your fate is. Correct?" You look at him with a frown.

"Yes. I would rather this life not be destined for every alternate version of me."

"Well, like there are different versions of you, I believe there can be different versions of fate," you reply. "I am sure that somewhere, an alternate of you and your lover are together. And they are happy." You keep your eyes on the ground as you exit the fields of the farm. The ground transitions from dirt to the same kind of odd, smooth ground from the previous city.

"I can believe that," Hongjoong says. "Actually, I know that we are together, happy somewhere. I have seen them."

"Oh, that is nice to hear." You give him a sad smile. Had he seen his alternate with his lover somewhere in the world you had just jumped from? Or maybe he's jumped worlds before even meeting you. You wonder what other kinds of artifacts aside from the Cromer possess such a power. What do the Guardians use to jump? Does each world have its own version of the Cromer, like they do people? 

He nods. "I hope they stay together." Hongjoong pushes open the door to a tall building you hadn't even realized you arrived in front of. "Come on," he whispers, holding it open for you.

Hesitating for just a moment, you enter the new structure. He gently takes your arm, leading you down a narrow walkway into another door. In this one, there are steps going around and around, spiraling up to a ceiling you can barely see. You begin to ascend them quickly but slow down soon after. It feels as if there is no end to them as you continue up, so after some time, you abruptly stop in the middle of a platform.

"Need a break?" Hongjoong asks, smile on his face as he watches you catch your breath. 

"No, no. Are we almost there, though?" 

"Yes. Here." You reluctantly follow him up one more set of stairs and he opens a door, taking you outside. You cautiously step out and look around.

"Wow." From here, you can see all of this Sector One. Little lights in the windows of the many structures sparkle like stars, making the ground look like a mirror of the sky. The lights expand across your entire line of sight, and the moon looks huge as it looms over the city, casting its low light over the buildings. "This...is beautiful." You can't tear your eyes away from the view. Unlike the last time you were high above the ground, you are not scared. You feel free. 

"Isn't it? I used to come up here a lot when I couldn't sleep."

"We are all so similar." It reminds you of the time your captain found you out on the deck, watching the reflection of the moon in the waves. He told you the story about his journey to Twilight Cove and you had fallen asleep right there, on the steps to the quarter deck. You smile to yourself.

"What do you plan to do once you get home?" Hongjoong asks. 

"Oh, I have not given it much thought. I was not even sure we could get home before this."

"I see. There is one thing you must do when you go back, though."

"What would that be?"

"You have to break the Cromer."

"What?" Your breath catches in your throat. "But we searched so long and hard for it. My father's entire life of research is in our hands, and you want me to break it? As if it is nothing?"

"Y/N, I understand why this would be upsetting. But your life will continue to be in danger as long as you have it in your possession. Once you rid yourself of the artifact and its effects, the guardians will likely not be able to find you."

"But Hongjoong—"

"I know, darling. It is your decision, and I will not be there. Just...think about it, please. I do not want you to live a life like me where you just run and run." He runs his fingers through his dark hair and you sigh, nodding. 

Hongjoong then points to the sky, taking you away from the subject of the Cromer.

"Do you see that star right there?" He comes next to you.

"The brightest one?"

"Yes, that one. It reminds me of her. Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I know she wouldn't give up. So, I can't."

"Hongjoong...I did not know her, but I feel like she would want you to live freely. Without worrying about her. Just as you do not wish for any harm to come to her, she is probably hoping the same of you." He lowers his gaze to the ground. 

"I know, but I am selfish. I have thought about giving up, but after these past few days, I remember why I want so badly to be with her again. And if I can't, I will die trying." Your eyes widen at his confession.

"I see." You notice in the distance how an orange hue has begun to appear in the dark sky. 

"Y/N, I need to tell you something." 

"What is it?" you ask, still watching the skyline. You begin to see pink along with the orange.

"It has been nice to see you again."

"Again?" You turn to look at him.

He hesitates. "Y/N, you are my lover. In every universe."

The world seems to spin at his words.

"Hongjoong—"

"I know I am not your Hongjoong. And you are not my Y/N. But being with you has given me some peace. To know you are just as lovely as I remember, beyond time and space. It has not filled the hole in my heart, but helped patch it." You just stare at him, your jaw opening to say something but closing again. "Forgive me for keeping this from you...I just did not know if it would cause any issues earlier on."

"I suppose for me to be in love with the Hongjoong in my world and you to be in love with the Y/N in your world makes sense. It is just quite overwhelming to think about."

"I understand. How do you think I felt when you suddenly appeared and helped me escape that Guardian?" He laughs. 

"Terrified!"

"Yes. Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

"No need to thank me." You brush him off. "I did not do anything." 

"Yes, you did. Y/N, you're amazing. You saved our lives and you have been so strong through it all. And again, you reminded me of what's important to me. So, thank you."

"Thank you." You pull him into your arms and hold him tight. "For everything. Good luck finding...um...me." Hongjoong laughs at you, pulling back.

"Here." He pulls the Cromer from the inside of his coat, handing the shiny object to you. You accept it carefully.

"Hongjoong, how can I be sure I can go home now? You said it works best when I am in danger..." He holds onto both of your arms as he speaks to you.

"Trust me, Y/N."

"I do, but—" He places a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"And don't be mad at me, please. Understand this is for you to get home."

"But why would I be—" Hongjoong scoops you up, bringing you to the edge of the rooftop. Your eyes widen and your heart feels like it stops as he holds you over the wall. "No, Hongjoong," you plead. "There has to be some other way. I do not like this method."

"Trust me. Until we meet again."

"Kim Hongjoong I swear—AH!" You scream as he lets go of you and you close your eyes, hugging the Cromer tightly to your chest. You hear nothing but the wind in your ears as you descend. Home. You have to go home. You think about your crewmates and the captain you miss so dearly, along with the ship you had gotten so used to traveling on. 

Are you still falling?

You can't feel anything particular around you, and you're scared to open your eyes. But you know you have to eventually. With one deep breath, you open them slowly. You make eye contact with Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong. You take in his eyepatch, his hook, and his scruffy mullet that you missed. His telescope clatters to the main deck and it brings you out of your daze. He runs over and cups your cheek with his hand.

"Y/N?"

"Joong!" You practically knock him over as you bury yourself in his arms. He pulls you away, inspecting your face and your body for visible injuries. Tears prick at your eyes, and you sniffle.

"I am okay." You watch as a tear falls from his eye, too, and he pulls you back into his chest.

"Y/N, I was so worried about you." He places a kiss on top of your head.

"I was worried about you, too. I missed you so much." His embrace is enough to calm you completely, his familiar scent comforting.

"What is going on out her-" You hear Mingi's voice from behind you and you turn to peek at him with your blurry, tear-filled eyes. "Shit." He disappears back into the captain's quarters and comes back out with six other men who you missed equally as much.

"Y/N!" Wooyoung shouts, running over to hug both of you. "I knew you'd be back with no problem." You roll your eyes, smiling. 

"Where is..." Yeosang starts.

"He is home. I have a lot to tell you all."

"We do too," San says. "Mingi cried a lot while you were gone." You watch as Mingi jabs his laughing crew mate in the side, and you have to hold in your own laughter.

"I am flattered." Your eyes then catch a glimpse of the Cromer on the deck. You must have dropped it when you saw Hongjoong.

How are you going to tell them that you need to destroy it...

Taglist: @foxinnie8 <3

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Open and Waiting (Chapter 2)

Gif from this post by @ashr-jedi

Summary: Hunter makes an appearance. You continue to warm Tech’s cock with your mouth and ruminate on previous experiences with Crosshair, Wrecker and Echo.  

Relationships: Tech x f!reader, a little bit of Hunter x f!reader, mentions of Crosshair x f!reader, Echo x f!reader and Wrecker x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, cock warming, voyeurism, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, poor self worth, feelings, smut with feelings, sexual inexperience, inexperienced reader, polyamory, gag reflex, pretend sci-fi technology/science, pretend Star Wars planets and locations, not beta read. Mentions of: Deep throating, face fucking, fingering, thigh fucking, tit fucking, bukkake, cum as lube, finger fucking, grinding, toys, butt plug.

Word Count: 2085 (Chapter 2)

Authors Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. The filth continues. Interspersed with … feelings? In my smut? It’s more likely than you think. 

I realised I forgot to give any context for where this story sits timeline wise and who the character of the reader is! Timeline wise, this happens at some nebulous point after Echo joins The Bad Batch and before Order 66. The reader is part of the Batch but beyond that you can interpret them however you wish. The most common example I've seen is a medic but a jedi, mechanic, intelligence officer or some other random reason for the reader being in the squad could all work as well. Whatever works for you. The main thing is that the reader is a submissive that the Batch share between themselves and are the reader's dominants. The Batch are all Dom’s in the AU of this fic, but they all have different ways of approaching it, which you’ll hopefully get a little inkling of in this chapter.

Chapters: One, Three, Four, Five, Six | Ao3

Open and Waiting (Chapter 2) 

I don’t know how much time passes but eventually I hear the faint hiss of the cockpit door opening and a soft, smooth stride moves out into the main area of the ship.

Hunter.

Our sergeant can be completely silent when he wants to be, so he’s deliberately making sure his approach can be heard. An existence created purely for tracking means that he’s basically permanently stealthy. It can be decidedly startling when he just appears next to you out of nowhere. We really need to put a bell on him or something. Though he’d probably figure out how to move so that it didn’t make a sound. Sneaky bastard.

A gruff voice at the end of the workbench announces his arrival.

“That’s in more bits than when I saw it last.”

“Yes.” Tech replies. “I hypothesised that the size of the casing could be reduced by 2.56% if I reconfigured the internal power connectors into a series of bi-linear couplings. I am currently applying this theory to the prototype you see before you, hence the 'bits' on the workbench.”

“That’s a lot of parts to shove into a small box.” responds Hunter.

“They will fit.” Tech testily replies.

“I don’t doubt that.” Hunter answers.   

There’s a brief pause while Tech zaps something and Hunter shifts slightly to the side.

I think I’m being inspected.

Hunter definitely can’t have missed that I’m currently naked, kneeling between Tech’s thighs with my eyes closed, hands restrained behind my back and Tech’s cock stuffed in my mouth.

“You went with the leather cuffs then.” Hunter states.

I am definitely being inspected.

“They are more suited to the purposes of this exercise.” Tech explains. “The focus is on sensation and submission and as an introduction to this practice, I thought it pertinent to ease into the experience gently. The leather cuffs provide an acceptable level of restraint and serve as a reminder of their position, both physically and mentally.”

“Plus you made them.” Hunter adds.

“Correct. Both the wrist cuffs and collar are of my own design and creation.” Tech replies.

They’re talking about me like I’m not even here. Like I’m not currently desperately drooling around Tech’s cock, unable to move or escape their gaze. The thought makes my pussy throb.

“Oh, she’s enjoying this.” Hunter laughs.

“I trust you can smell her arousal.” Tech asks, though it’s not framed as a question.

“Yup.” Hunter answers. “I could smell her in the cockpit like she was in there. It’s stronger than usual.”

“I have observed a number of indicators of her heightened state of arousal myself.” Tech adds.

“Is this what she’s been worrying about?” asks Hunter.

“If by ‘this’, you mean the practice of cock warming that the two of us are currently engaging in, then yes.” Tech replies.

“You’ve just got your dick in her mouth.” Hunter observes bluntly.

“Yes.” replies Tech. “That is the point.”

There’s a rather telling pause and I can just picture the looks that are being exchanged. An arched, tattooed eyebrow is probably being met with a decidedly unimpressed flat stare emanating from behind yellow lenses. Another slip of drool spills from the corner of my stretched mouth and runs down my chin to join the rest of the mess that is covering my face.

Tech shifts and launches into a lecture. There’s probably a finger being raised.

“Cock warming is the practice of placing one's cock in an orifice of one's partner. This can be done via the mouth, rear or vagina, if the penetratee possesses that particular genitalia. The cock is then left inside the partner's orifice where they are to keep it warm. The name speaks for itself. Outside of the basic principle of the act, the parties involved can agree on various additional stipulations, such as how long the penetratee must keep their partner's cock inside them or if they are allowed to move or make noise. I have read numerous accounts where both partners extol the virtues of this practice, describing it as surprisingly peaceful and an excellent way of entering subspace.”

“I’m sure it’s enjoyable, I’ve just never heard of it, that’s all.” Hunter supplies.

“I must admit that I was not overly familiar with the practice myself but it has proved to be a most enjoyable addition to our play thus far.” Tech provides.

I could already tell he was enjoying it, given the harness of his erection currently occupying my mouth. Hearing the verbal confirmation just adds to the feeling of deep satisfaction and submission warming in my chest. Another shiver runs through my body and I can feel more of my saliva pool in my mouth.

“Was there a reason for your interruption of my work?” Tech directs at Hunter in a slightly curt manner.

“That’s not the only thing I’m interrupting” Hunter snarks back.

“Quite.” Tech leaves the implication implicit.

Hunter sighs briefly before adding “Yeah we got a comm from the 369th.”

“Ah. Are they still experiencing difficulty with the Separatist base built into the side of the Markontia Gorge on Bezril IX?” Tech asks, fully aware of the answer already.

“Yeah, they might need our help with their current campaign but nothing’s confirmed yet so we’re on standby for now. If they need us to blast a hole into the Seppie base then we should hear back by the next rotation.” Hunter adds.

“Wrecker will be pleased.” Tech comments.

“I can think of something else that would please Wrecker.” Hunter slyly hints at.

“Wrecker may make use of our shared submissive when it is his turn.” Tech replies swiftly, irascible intent laced through the words, making it crystal clear that I am his right now.

“Additionally, he has made it quite clear that he does not wish to test the limits of her capacity for oral penetration until her gag reflex has improved.” Tech adds.

A slice of shame and disappointment cuts through me. I’ve always had problems with my gag reflex. Lack of experience will do that to you, I guess. I’ve been slowly working on improving it and they’ve all been so gentle and careful and patient with me. I desperately want to be able to deep throat each of them or be face fucked into a wall one day. At the moment though, the best I can manage is the tip of one of their cocks at the back of my mouth and even that still sets the damn thing off sometimes.

Wrecker has been so sweet about it. There is no denying that he is exceptionally well endowed and that his cock is, well, enormous, to put it bluntly. The poor man is well aware of it too. There is nothing I’d love more than to be absolutely impaled on his thick cock, but the first time I saw it I did worry that I’d never be able to fit it in me. I still do but we’re slowly getting there. He’s been so wonderful and understanding of my current abilities and their limits. Wrecker is such a beautiful human to experience pleasure with. He’s so full of joy about the entire thing. I didn’t have a great deal of experience before somehow ending up with all of them and I’d never had a joyful sexual encounter before Wrecker. I didn’t even know it was possible and had burst into tears afterwards. He’d been so alarmed and concerned that he’d inadvertently hurt me but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Thankfully, he’s the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and we’d had a wide-ranging, open and reassuring conversation about sexual experience and intimacy as I lay curled against his chest. I still struggle with tensing up sometimes and Wrecker has been a great boon in getting me more accustomed to preparation. He’s a big proponent of lube and has a whole assortment of different types that we’re slowly working our way through. One or two of his fingers are more than enough to open me up and I could have those big, thick, slicked up digits sliding in and out of me for hours.

And there is nothing quite so wondrous as lying there laughing and kissing and giggling as he fucks my thighs. Wrecker has been very keen to emphasise that there’s more to sex than just penetration and we’ve been exploring some intriguingly varied ways to experience pleasure together. The first time he’d fucked my tits was something else. His oleaginous, lubed cock sliding between my breasts, cupped in his massive hands as his fingers and thumb played with my nipples. When he’d finally exploded all over my chest, neck and face, I don’t think I’d ever been covered in quite so much cum.

Well, at least not until we had that bukkake session. Trying to get cum out of your hair in a sonic is difficult to say the least and Hunter ended up hand washing it out for me. It had been worth it though for the way they had all looked down at me while they pumped their cocks and came all over my obedient, kneeled form, mouth hanging open and tongue out to catch as much as I could.

I’d knelt there afterwards like a statue. Covered in their cum, stained and claimed in their release. Rivets of translucent white slowly running down my skin. I could feel it pool in the hollow of my neck and drip off my nipples. It sounds ridiculous but in that moment I just wished I could exist like that forever, eternally marked as theirs. Just like I wish I could openly and proudly display the marks they leave on my skin, claims bruised into my neck for all to see. They are all such wonderful dominants, each unique in their own approach. I’m eternally thankful that they all chose me to be their submissive. I would happily serve at their feet and allow them to use me as they pleased for the rest of my existence if this damn war wasn’t going on.

I do need to work on having a bit more self preservation though. One of them is bad enough but whenever they end up scheming together, they start coming up with Plans and Ideas. That’s how I then found myself wiping their cum off me with my hands before eating it in front of them like some lewd and licentious spectacle. Being made to finger yourself using the cum of your dominants as lube while they watch is also a whole new level of depravity. I’d had to beg each of them for permission to cum before I’d finally been allowed to finger fuck myself into oblivion.  

Wrecker isn’t the only one that is explicitly clear that their boundaries for playing with me are guided by my current abilities. Crosshair steadfastly refuses to even entertain my suggestion of face fucking until I can, in his words, “keep my balls against your chin, doll”. Echo had gone all serious when I had timidly requested to go down on him for the first time. There had been some stern yet heart-felt words about the importance of pacing and not rushing into things or pressuring yourself to try something you’re not ready for. We’d ended up grinding against each other instead, which was just as enjoyable. It meant I got to watch him come undone as I thrust my hips into his groin and then he’d made me straddle his leg and grind myself to completion on his thigh. There is something about the sensation of smooth durasteel gliding under your wet, sensitive pussy and pressing against your clit that is otherworldly. I’ll have to ask Tech if he’s able to shape some kind of toy out of the metal. A durasteel butt plug sounds like an excellent idea.

I still wish I could do more for them and wasn’t trapped in my own body and mind. The discontent and shame at my perceived failures is still there, despite how well I might be managing to warm Tech’s cock with my mouth at the moment. My lips are wrapped around a decent amount of his length and the tip of his cock is fairly close to the back of my mouth but I could always do more and try to get him a little deeper. I take a steadying breath through my nose, will my throat to relax and move to take more of him in.

------

Author’s Note: Tiny bit of a cliffhanger! This is mainly because I wrote this all in a giant keyboard mashing haze with absolutely no thoughts of structure. Going back while editing and trying to figure out where to shove in chapters to break it up has been a bit tricky, so if they’re a tad clunky that’s why.

You’ll see how Tech reacts in Chapter 3, along with some musings on previous sessions with Hunter and Crosshair. 

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant

[eaterofsoupwrites]

i’m working on a new fic! but i really don’t have any timeline for when it might be published in its completion. i’m writing it little by little, so here’s a scene i do have done:

Warning! for a sort of glossed over mention of physical abuse.

As the latest in line of many late Golden Guards, Hunter was perhaps not the distinguished figure citizens of the Boiling Isles might think he was. Of course he knew he carried a historied and dignified position, but no amount of study or training could change the fact that he was also a young boy who had a very hard time listening to his uncle, a frequent theme in his life that had never once served him well. 

Hunter knew the facts: His uncle, as Emperor and Mouthpiece of the Titan, was right in all he said. And Hunter, a pitiable half-a-witchlet, should be grateful for every enlightened word he was graciously allowed to hear. And yet, every time his uncle spoke it was as if he was reaching inside Hunter and pinching his frail heart between his great fingers, forcing the blood to gush around inside at his whim, his very terrible and ever-changing whim. Every reprimand shot hot embarrassment straight through his bones, and every demand froze them over again. Hunter loved his uncle, but every time he spoke he felt like he was going to die. He always wanted to cover his ears and scream or cry just to drown it out, but he was sure his uncle’s voice would reverberate like a drum still and penetrate his hidden head. Wouldn’t that be worse, for the words to sound like they were coming from his own mind? Hunter couldn’t have come up with them himself. He wasn’t as eloquent or knowledgeable as his uncle and, of course, he was nowhere near as correct. And so he stood still and listened, and died. 

Hunter often endured such things for his uncle. It was a duty he’d taken upon himself simply because he inferred it should be so—nowhere did it say that a Golden Guard should commiserate with and pity his Emperor, only that he obey. But Hunter swore to do it anyway because he was quite sure his uncle loved him dearly in return. In all the Boiling Isles, who else was afforded such and so many a private audience with their Emperor, and who else called him Uncle? So what if others knew of his curse, they were few; so what if others had seen his face—they were even fewer. Hunter alone could trace the shape of his eyes and jaw and know that he shared them with his Emperor. Hunter alone was present in the Emperor’s own image. Hunter alone was dear enough to have received his mercy.

And indeed Hunter was a creature in need of mercy.

If his uncle told him to jump Hunter would jump first then ask how high, off where, how should I do it to most please you? He wouldn’t be embarrassed to tell you this. It’s only how proper obedience, no, reverence, should look. He would tell anyone who would listen that he revered his Emperor, and he would be sure to mistakenly mention that he was Hunter’s uncle as well. 

But there were some things even adoring, devout Hunter simply could not obey, no matter how much he wanted to or tried. His uncle would tell him to keep away from wild magic, would warn that it devastated their family, and somehow Hunter would find his lap full of it. It wasn’t his choice, no, it was his nature. He would tell himself this in the mirror after every atonement, looking into his red eyes—I couldn’t help it. I think someone made me this way. And he would continue to stare for so long a time his skin would cease to look like anything more than that of a corpse’s, and his hair would look like straw ready to fall off his head, and his eyes would not be eyes but little white marbles carved into and filled with pools of blood.

But then he would smile, knowing it would happen again, but not forever. He knows I love him. After he teaches me the lesson I am so sorely missing, then I will understand to never do it again, he will have fixed my nature. Because—and his eyes might wander here—he loves me too. In the mirror, bruises would not be bruises and cuts would not be cuts, they would be talismen and tokens of care.

And Hunter would do all this alone, in part because he could never seem to naturally endear the regard of anyone but the Emperor, but equally because he tried not to. The Golden Guard was a symbol of the Empire, and as such he was often a braggart of his being handmaiden to enlightenment, of his succession to martyrs and heroes. What a stain it would be if anyone knew of Hunter!

[lurkingshan]

Be My Favorite and Accepting the Things We Cannot Change

Several weeks back, @shortpplfedup posited that Be My Favorite’s core theme really comes down to the Serenity Prayer:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  The courage to change the things I cannot accept,  And the wisdom to know the difference

Having now seen the finale and the full arc of the show, I have to declare her the most correct of clowns, because she nailed it. This finale was all about Pisaeng’s journey to accepting that he can’t control the outcome of Kawi’s illness in the future, and that ultimately, he doesn’t want to change the beautiful life they’ve had together on the off chance it might make a difference. 

I love the way this played out in the new temporary present (I am going to miss finding awkward ways to accurately describe what timeline we are in). When Pisaeng travels back in time to the night before they went to the amusement park, Kawi clocks it immediately, but waits for Pisaeng to fess up that he had time traveled back from the future, and why. Once everything is out in the open, we see a sense of calm come over Kawi as he begins gently guiding Pisaeng to what he has already learned: they can’t control it, and the best thing they can do is commit to enjoying the life they have together here and now. And so Kawi and Pisaeng put a pin in it and have a great day together at the amusement park, reveling in each other’s company and committing to the joy of being in each others’ presence. At the end of the day, Pisaeng admits that even though he’s scared, he wouldn’t want to change anything about their life together or risk losing what they have for the off chance that it could lead to a better outcome, and he goes back home to the uncertain future so he and his future Kawi can face it together, hand in hand. 

I absolutely loved the melancholy undertone to these first three parts of the episode and the poignancy of this message. While Pisaeng struggled, Kawi’s character growth was on full display as he settled into the wisdom he has earned over many timelines and failed attempts to control things he now knows he cannot change. Once he was the one on the outside of the time travel dilemma, he reached full clarity on how futile it all was, and how little would be accomplished by attempting to engineer a different trajectory that might save his life at the expense of his relationship with Pisaeng. And he has achieved a measure of peace and reached a level of confidence and comfort with Pisaeng that enabled him to guide his partner to the same conclusion. It was lovely to see, and felt very well earned. The themes in this section of the episode were so strong that they actually had me thinking they might go there and not give Kawi an explicit recovery and happily ever after. But they quickly changed tack once Pisaeng traveled back to the future in the final part of the episode.

Now, here is the part where I admit that I would have preferred a more nuanced final act rather than Kawi suddenly waking up fine and everything being peaceful from there. There was an opportunity here for a more thematically resonant ending, and the show chose to steer away from it to give us a standard joyful bl epilogue. An ending where Kawi does not fully recover or where his fate is left more open-ended would have really made the poignancy of their choice to stop trying to change things land more firmly. Something more in the mode of Bad Buddy’s somewhat happy ending with a bittersweet edge would have also felt right. That said, this is a bl drama and I can’t really be surprised that it stuck with genre conventions. It was a lovely ending for Kawi and Pisaeng and it was very nice to see them happy together after all the turmoil.

So where did I land on this show overall? I really liked it, and given that I came in with such low expectations, the fact that it ended up being a show I consistently looked forward to week after week is no small thing. This drama gave me a lot to think about and inspired such wonderful discussions with friends, not to mention more clown theories than I could ever hope to track. It also gave me the opportunity to see both Gawin and Krist in a new light—I was really impressed with both of them in this drama and I hope to see Gawin especially continuing to get lead roles. 

I don’t think this drama was perfect, however. At the time episode 10 aired I had some issues with the resolutions it put forward for the main timeline, and those criticisms stand. I wish it had done more with all the meaty stuff it set up with queer politics, Pisaeng’s mom’s hypocrisy in positioning herself as a queer ally while forcing her own son into the closet, and Max’s role as a queer activist who was her fan. There was so much story potential there, but it seems the show just had other priorities. And I’m still not entirely sure what the point of the Not/Kwan subplot was, given that they didn’t really do anything with it in the final arc of the show. I guess I will just settle for thanking the universe that Pear was marrying a very nice looking man who was not Not (lol) in the finale and be grateful they didn’t subject me to a redemption arc for that mean little man.

As always, it has been an honor clowning with you all, and I’m pleased that we’re ending Be My Favorite on such a good note. Shouts to @waitmyturtles @bengiyo, @thegalwhorants, @twig-tea and @rocketturtle4 for talking through a lot of my reactions to this show with me. On to the next! 

[thefandomcassandra]

I have, for the better part of like...several months, been working on this PMV like a man possessed and now it's done.

All my discussion about this is behind the cut for spoiler reasons but oh my god I am so so so so so happy. And relieved.

Overall the thought process behind this was really really simple: Akane sure has martyred three different men in her life (Aoi, Junpei, Sigma) and all for the Greater Good. I should explore that.

Aoi throws himself on the pyre willingly to save his sister. He is never seen again but I think about what his time during the Radical 6 pandemic was like and where he is during VLR and I weep.

Junpei would do anything for her, unwilling or not, and destroys himself until he has some other reason to live (in a timeline that is "worse" overall, which he has come to bitterly resent her for having that kind of mindset about).

Sigma is a bootstrap paradox whose entire involvement hinges on a 12/21/22/67 year old Akane seeing him doing/having done all these things and needing them to happen so that they can have happened. He's a Gordian Knot of time and free will and he has to be cruel to make things Correct and it kills him.

Sometimes in the PMV there's text I colored by grabbing from the image. Usually it's the word "dog" and it's colored for the person being talked about but I also do things like using Akane's purple when referring to fate, using the puppet string brown for talking about emotions, using the bright teal flash to talk about souls, and so on. It's a fun little detail for me.

Sigma has burn scars from the explosions. His right ear is ruined because tbef if he lost an eye to shrapnel (and his arms to the full explosion) he should also have burned the shit out of his face. That is my personal HC and I think it really solidified when I was doing this PMV.

Details you won't be able to see due to frame timing:

the sudoku shown is game-accurate

Junpei's eyebrows and eyelashes are still brown in his ZTD design because he's dying his hair

I hand drew the VLR timeline chart

see no evil (Sigma closes his eyes to the things he has to do to make a timeline that can be saved), hear no evil (Aoi, as a receiver, might have heard some of what Akane is transmitting and ough), and speak no evil (Junpei keeps his secrets close to his chest and so he keeps Akane's secrets too)

while the digital numbers in the second chorus look like SOS they're actually 505 (Akane, Zero, Junpei)

the dice in the next frame are meant to indicate Aoi, Akane, and Junpei (3, 6, 5)

I had the most fun with detailing The Chair(tm) (mindless details go brr) and the least fun drawing little Kanny on fire (it was a hard pose)

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🌕 Blood Moon: Chapter Three

Blood Moon: You have been defying nature, and perhaps, even the Gods. After returning to life because of Tony Stark’s sacrifice, all humans now have a designation: alpha, beta, or omega. Angry at the fate you’ve been given, you decide that you will do anything to ensure that your fate is in your own hands. You’ll soon find out that it is never a good idea to tamper with fate, especially when one man makes it his mission to ensure that you understand that you can try to out-fly your destiny, but fate will eventually catch up to you.

Warnings: Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Zemo Get’s Frisky With Reader, Your Age Pre-Set for Plotline.

To Note: A/B/O Universe Post Snap, Zemo x Female!Reader, Timeline Of Events Is More Spread Out (Weeks Rather Than Days) To Fit Plot Line.

Word Count: ~4.1k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Saying Sam and Bucky are upset was an understatement. You thought Bucky was going to flat out fall back in a faint when you had followed Zemo down the airplane steps. Sam was probably going to need to go on high blood pressure medication soon.

“No, no way are we letting Diana walk around Madripoor wearing that, especially when we know this place is dirty! She smells like a freaking omega!!” Sam erupted while you ignored him and continued walking.

“Do you want to get the lead, or play big brother Sam?” You called over your shoulder, waiting for the three of them to catch up to you. “Because I don’t have all night and I would like a drink.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue more, but didn’t. He let out a huff of frustration and started walking over as Bucky broodily stared you down.

“Oh please, stop acting like this is the first time you’ve seen me in a dress,” You snapped out as Zemo walked up to you and placed a hand on your back.

“I am sure James and Sam will get used to the idea, Liebling.” He told you as the four of you started walking. He then called to the two sulking men. “I would not send Diana into a place such as the Princess Bar without some sort of protection.”

“Like what? Her as your side piece?” That was just petty, Sam.

“If you haven’t noticed the giant rocks around my neck, Sam, all who fix their greedy little eyes upon me will know that I am taken, presumably by Zemo, since he is royalty and neither of you could afford this necklace. I am untouchable unless they have a death wish.”

“Yeah, you do know you might have you act submissive, right?” Sam fired back while you rolled your eyes. “You smell like the most delicious omega on the planet. You are gonna have to act like you’re one.”

“I am prepared to do what I need to do to ensure that our plan works. Now, who are you supposed to be again?”

“He’ll if I know,” Sam grumbled before looking down at his outfit. “We gotta to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo told Sam as he passed a phone over. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam commented. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“Then you already have something going for you.” You commented, shooting Sam a look.

“You smell this?” Zemo questioned as a car appeared on the far edge bridge. It continued to drive towards us.

“Besides Diana? Yeah, what is that? Acid?”

“Madripoor.” Zemo corrected while the car stopped. Doors were opened, and you slipped to the middle of the back seat. ”No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.”

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” Sam said as he and Bucky sandwiched you in.

“Most definitely not,” You spoke quietly as Zemo slipped into the passenger’s seat and the car started moving once more.

The entire time you walked through Madripoor, Zemo kept you glued to his side as he walked confidently through the misty streets, Sam and Bucky bringing up the rear.

While they stayed in character as needed, you knew their minds had to be going a million miles an hour as their eyes watched everything that moved. Understandable. When you had exited the car, all eyes turned to you as you moved through the neon streets. You had to admit something; you didn’t see how any of the three alphas wore as much layers as they currently did, seeing how it was a current balmy 80 degrees out. Perfect for someone like you wearing this scandalous outfit, but them? They had to be hot.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that the moment you had entered society and the scent of an omega started circulating, heads were snapping around and other alphas were coming sniffing. Time to show everyone that you are really off limits. Dropping your shoulders, you stretched your neck out to accentuate the multitude of gemstones clinging to the column of your throat and put on your best ‘innocent yet absolutely smitten with the alpha at my side’ look you could muster.

Your subtle extra tactic worked wonders as jealousy flamed in the eyes of every alpha in the vicinity. It really didn’t take much to make an alpha jealous. One simply had to flaunt something that another desperately wanted, and in this new world, it was you.

“They’re all looking at her like she’s the prime tenderloin in a case of ground chuck,” Sam grumbled underneath his breath.

“They know what they do not have,” Zemo coolly responded before taking the initiative. His gloved hand slid across your back and settled on the open portion of your side, snugly tucking you into his side in a display of possession.

Your nose picked up the subtle hints of rage coming from the two men behind you.

“Knock it off you idiots, do not ruin this.” You hissed under your breath. That burst of rage melted to a simmer but didn’t disappear completely.

“Consider this. Do you want Diana to remain safe?” Zemo questioned them as you neared the Princess Bar. “Because the only way to guarantee it, is if everyone knows she is mine.”

“This does not mean we have to like it.” Sam growled.

“No one said you had to,” You huffed as you reached the doors to the bar. You turned your head. “This is life or death. Control your alphas or I will do it for you!”

“Come now, Liebling maus, I am sure they understand.” Zemo purred at your side as he took your right hand and directed you into the bar. “No one here wants to ruin your night.”

You let out a haughty sniff and allowed yourself to be appeased by his words. It was all too easy to fall into the submissive roll.

“Готов подчиниться, зимний солдат?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?) You were now in the thick of Madripoor’s underground, and one minor mistake could cost you everything, including your lives. You only hoped that Bucky and Sam could control themselves if you had to go as far as act like the designation you was pretending to be. “Shall we get you a drink, Liebling?”

You let out a purr in the back of your throat while Zemo weaved you through the crowd. Lucky for you, the bar wasn’t too packed at the moment and you found a place to stand by near the bartender. Zemo, carrying on his act, pulled out a bar chair and helped you into it.

“Hello, gentlemen, miss.” The bartender greeted, his eyes flickering to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo offered in explanation. “Would you kindly make a side car for my omega?”

The bar tender jerked his chin in acknowledgment before looking to Sam.

“The usual?” Sam gave him a firm nod, and the bartender immediately got started on making your drinks. Tucking you heels underneath the bar stool, you curled your fingers around Zemo’s which still held yours, and drew it up to your cheek where you pressed his palm against your skin.

That tremor beneath your skin was back, clawing at you from the inside out. Alongside it came a flushed feeling that left your skin hot and needing the touch of an alpha.

You cursed at yourself and resisted the urge to shove Zemo away from you and get as far from the mysterious man as you could. Whatever was going on with you was going to have to wait until you were in a safe environment to explore the causes. Preferably your lab. Until then, you would have to accept what was happening.

At least he was wearing a glove. You didn’t know how you would react if it was his bare skin touching you… that was it. It had to be OS-336! Perhaps you had gotten your dosage wrong after all and your true designation was somehow creeping through the cracks of your chemical formula. You would give yourself an extra boost in dosage when this was over then, but at the moment, these embarrassing and unwanted side effects of your true designation were working in your favor.

Letting out a pleased sigh, you rubbed your cheek against the smooth leather glove as you stared down the bartender who was putting together your drink. You hoped you looked like a smug omega who knew exactly who she belonged to; it was how an omega of Baron Helmut Zemo would act.

“Enjoy,” the bartender said as he placed the martini glass down in front of you with an orange twist perched on the edge. Your eyes took in the drink before you slowly shifted them to Zemo, whose lips quirked as he gently stroked the side of your face.

“Drink, Liebling, you’ve more than earned it after patiently waiting by my side.” Letting him slip his fingers from you, you turned back to the drink and pulled it to you by the stem of the glass. While you were raising it to your lips, the bartender was pulling a snake from a jar. As the citrus drink slipped down your throat, your eyebrow popped up when the snake ended up getting gutted and an organ placed in a shot. “Ah. Smiling Tiger, your favorite.”

Oh poor Sam, either the bartender was bullshitting you, or the Smiling Tiger had some weird tastes. Sam picked up the glass and held it up.

“I love these.” He said with zero ounce of happiness. Zemo then picked up a shot glass of his own and clicked it against Sam’s.

“Cheers, Conrad.” Zemo said before shooting back his shot. Sam looked like he was going to be sick, but actually shot back his drink. With that little display over, you focused your energy back on your drink. Since Zemo had explicitly said drink it, any omega would take that as a ‘I will drink this until it’s gone or my alpha says stop’. So you guess you might end up buzzed tonight. Oh well.

You took another swallow of your drink and briefly shut your glittering eyelids. This club reeked of alphas, omegas, and betas alike, but you could only focus on one thing. Zemo.

Someone came up from behind you.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky in threat.

“New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished his threat. The man sulked off.

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky spoke lowly and unimpressed.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam queried.

“Only by reputation.” Zemo admitted. He turned back to the bar. “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner. Зимний солдат,” (Winter soldier) Your eyes widened when a hand landed on Zemo’s shoulder. “Вперед, чтобы атаковать.” (Forward to attack.)

Your Russian was rudimentary at best, but judging by the blank look on Bucky’s face, and his robotic movements that proceeded, you knew that whatever Zemo had said probably meant something along the lines of attack. Bucky grabbed the hand attached to Zemo’s shoulder and walked the man back away from you as he grunted in pain. From there, he kicked the man’s legs out and slammed his vibranium fist into his shoulder.

More men ran up to Bucky, and with a few quick punches to their stomach and one hearty kick, he sent them all flying back into each other. From the looks of things, men were going to continue to attack despite the four already down men.

“Didn’t expect this to happen,” You murmured in surprise, keeping your back to the fight. “But at least I’m not bored anymore.”

The bartender walked over to the nearest phone and made a call. You tossed back the rest of your drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol which actually loosened the tension you were feeling.

There were more sounds of men grunting and being thrown around, and even glass shattering. Had they really thought it was a good idea to take on the Winter Soldier?

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo commented right before Bucky slammed a man onto the bar top next to you, holding him there by the neck. You glanced down at the man’s bulging eyes. Guns were cocked. The show was over for you, it seemed. Zemo placed a hand on Bucky. “Stay in character or the entire bar turns on us. Отлично, солдат.” (Great, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender announced. Bucky dragged the man he had pinned from the bar top and let him flop to the floor. You peeked at the ground. He was out cold.

“Thank you.” Zemo offered his hand to you, so spinning in your seat, you effortlessly scooted off the stool and dropped to your heels. You started walking through the bar, and to the back area where Selby could be found. There were CCTV’s everywhere, people at tables counting mountains of currency, and plenty of guns flashing about.

Entering a larger room, you spotted two sofas, one of which was occupied by a short-haired woman. Selby. She drummed her fingers on the back of the couch where she lounged.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo responded, tugging you with him to the empty couch and sitting down, tucking you next to him. Your eyes started into Selby’s. She was a beta, but a pretty dominant one by the way she smelled. No wonder she ran things around here.

“A lot has changed since you were here last. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” She didn’t pull any of her punches. You could respect that.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo questioned while running his fingers along your black covered thigh. He reached your bare knee and curled his leather covered fingers around it, drawing his individual fingers across your skin. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby ignored Zemo’s words for a moment and looked at Sam.

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” She purred at him while curling her fingernails. “What’s the offer?”

Zemo gracefully rose from the couch, leaving you lounging on it.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” He said, walking over to Bucky. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby chimed with a small chuckle. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right… but I’m forgetting something. Who is this? She’s quite a beauty, not to mention I could smell that delicious scent of hers before I even set my eyes on that gorgeous body.”

Selby looked at you like she wanted to eat you up. At least Zemo looked unperturbed by the question and was instantly replying.

“My omega, being in prison gets lonely as you can imagine,” Zemo said before walking behind the couch. Twisting your head, you looked up at him with adoration and reverence a smitten omega would have. “I like to have someone to go home too, someone I can dote on.”

You might have believed his words with the way he was staring so deeply into your eyes had this not been an act. His hand reached up and grasped your hair, pulling your head back to expose the necklace to the lights, and your throat to him. Zemo then bent down and ever so slowly brushed his nose along the curve of your neck, taking in your natural scent that clung to you beneath the omega perfume.

Your eyes shut and all you could concentrate on was the nose pressed to your skin and the lips that shot electricity and need straight to your core. Never had you been so taken with a sensation that made your skin burn. You couldn’t help the soft purr that left your barely parted lips. That had your eyes flickering open wide in shock, and that was the moment Zemo reached your chin.

Zemo place a kiss dangerously close to your lips before pulling away. He had that smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“There is nothing like having a soft, warm omega waiting for you.” Zemo finished. You were sure at this point Bucky or Sam, or maybe both of them, would have shot Zemo the second he put his hands on you. The only thing saving him was that you were smack dab in the middle of a bar, surrounded by people who would turn on you in a second if ordered. Zemo released your hair and walked back around the couch to sit down next to you once more.

“It’s a shame you don’t share,” Selby sighed out. So she played both fields, interesting… “The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby stood up and started walking around the room. “And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

So you were going to have to really haggle an answer out of her, so be it. Unfortunately, you seemed to have the worst luck in the world because Sam’s phone started buzzing. Your hands curled into fists in your lap while you struggled to keep a normal outward appearance.

“Answer it. On speaker.” Selby demanded. With tension thick in the room, Sam accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” Shit. It was Sarah, Sam’s sister.

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?”

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” Sarah snapped back.

“What situation, Sarah? Say it.” This was going to blow up in your faces. You just knew it. Selby started prowling around Bucky, and before you could dig your fingernails so hard into your palm, you cut them, a leather glove was tugging your hand from its clenched position. Subtly looking at Zemo, you saw he had his eyes trained on Sam.

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.” The Wilson sass and attitude was going to bite you in the ass one day.

“The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much money…” Sam let out a small laugh. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.” Sam huffed out.

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.” My eyes closed at the realization that this had just turned into a shit storm.

“‘Sam’? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Selby called. Before the guards in the room could fire, a bullet flew through the window and nailed Selby in the head. She was dead before she hit the floor.

Sporadic gun fire started up, and you were yanked from your seat by the Baron faster than you could comprehend as Sam and Bucky quickly took care of Selby’s men.

“This is a big problem,” You said while you were led to the exit, Zemo’s hand still firmly attached to yours.

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” Sam echoed in agreement. Zemo sighed.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” You exited the bar as fast as you could, and while you did so, cell phones began to chime with text messages.

“This is not good.” Zemo muttered seconds before the lights over head cut out, and gunfire erupted over your heads. All four of you ducked down and then split. While Sam and Bucky darted forwards, you were left to split with Zemo since he still had a hold of your hand, and seemed determined not to let it go.

It wasn’t easy running in these heels, especially since you didn’t wear them daily and weren’t used to walking in them. At least Zemo seemed to know where he was going because he dragged you into a small alcove between two buildings, briefly hiding you from our pursuers. Of course, it also meant that you were tucked neatly up against him and subjected to both his closeness and his natural scent. You waited for a few moments after your pursuers continued on past before stepping out from hiding.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a high speed get away and these heels are not made for running.” You said quietly. Zemo glanced down at your feet before making a face and nodding his chin at your feet.

“I will buy you another pair.” Not needing further explanation, you quickly unstrapped your feet from the pretty heels and ditched them in the alleyway. “We need to find Sam and James. They can’t have gone far.”

“You know this area better than I do.” You answered with a shrug.

“Indeed, I do, follow me.” You started walking, and you were reminded just who exactly Zemo was before the whole Sokovia Accords debacle. He was a trained military man from a special forces unit. You shouldn’t forget that. Weaving around buildings and sliding along back alleys, you eventually emerged to see Sam and Bucky about to be cornered by some men on motorcycles. But rather than get into another fight, someone from the nearby building shot and killed the men.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo said as he merged from the shadows, you on his tail.

“Well, this is too perfect.” Your eyebrows popped up at the voice and turning around, you saw Sharon Carter. “Drop it, Zemo.”

Zemo was rather compliant and placed the gun he stole on the ground.

“Sharon?” Bucky asked in confusion as Sam stepped forward.

“You cost me everything.” Sharon hissed, kicking the gun away.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam explained, stepping forward and getting in front of Bucky and Zemo.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead. ”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She snapped out before motioning with her gun. “I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save his ass, from his ass. Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke at me. I was on the run, too.” Sam shot back.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.” You felt somewhat guilty over that, even though you had nothing to do with Sharon’s decision to help Sam and Steve. Sharon fixated her eyes on you, so you gave her a small wave and meek smile.

“Hi, Sharon.”

“And what the hell are you bringing Diana into a place like this? You know what happened to her. She’s just a kid!”

“I’m actually almost thirty,” You pointed out.

“Because if anyone is going to figure out if the serum we find is real, it’s Diana… and she’s not a teenager anymore.”

“Yeah, you still look barely over twenty,” Sharon huffed at you. You rolled your eyes.

“You can thank the blip for that.”

“Listen... Sharon, we need your help.” Bucky pleaded and Sharon just chuckled at him. “Please.”

“This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.”

Date Published: 7/10/22

Last Edit: 7/10/22

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[jennyboom21]

It was small, minor even. In all of the pageantry, hoopla, stunts and shows that come with the annual Met Gala — celebrities decked in haute couture, multiple costume changes, group chats and social media timelines rushing to outdo one another for jokes. But in the middle of all that, Queen Latifah walked the 2024 Met Gala Carpet with her longtime partner Eboni Nichols.

When I first saw it, well, I screamed a little. Ok, maybe I screamed more than a little. But you have to understand, it’s not that we haven’t seen Queen and Eboni walk a red carpet together before, they walked the Oscars carpet together in 2022 and more recently they walked a different red carpet together for an AmFAR benefit in 2023. She first publicly acknowledged Eboni, and their son Rebel, from a BET Awards stage by thanking them both as her “love” while accepting her Lifetime Achievement. But if you’re a queer person and especially a Black queer person, who has been a part of this community at any point in the last 30 years, I also know that you get it. This is the queen. After rooting for her journey for so long, after she was a queer awakening for so many of us across so many years, every forward step still feels lucky somehow for us to witness. Each one feels like a breath of fresh air.

I posted my all caps emotions to Twitter because for better or for worse, I am chronically online. I thought it would do maybe a few hundred likes. Some love from a few other fans. Again on some level I intellectually know… we have been here before. But somehow still, the Met felt different. Walking the world’s most famous carpet, with every camera trained on you and your partner in your matching black & white gowns felt different. Anyway, it ended up with over 45 thousand likes in a day. And that’s when I knew — I wasn’t alone.

To be very clear here, I do not believe that Queen Latifah owes us Dana Owens. In 2008, after being arguably the most famous woman rapper for nearly two decades and an Oscar-nominated actress, she told The New York Times that when it came to her romantic life, “You don’t get that part of me. Sorry. We’re not discussing it… Nobody gets that. I don’t feel like I need to share my personal life.” And she’s absolutely correct. We are not owed hers (or anyone’s) coming out. We are not owed beyond what she has left for us on stage and screen.

But it’s also hard not to feel this as a homecoming, deep in your bones. And I hope that if Queen sees this joy spreading across the internet as pictures of her and Eboni go viral, that she knows its meant with pride in her and gratitude for all that she already gave us. Everything else is a bonus.

I have loved Queen Latifah since I was eight years old. I loved her longer than I’ve known I was gay. In so many ways, she taught me a lot about strength, and independence, and loving other Black women and not taking any shit and womanhood. So it’s impossible, now, not to gush when Emma Chamberlin interviewed Queen and Eboni together on the carpet and asked, “Is this a date night?”

Queen takes a deep breath and smiles before teasingly calling Eboni “Eb.” Eboni fills in their banter and says that she playfully threatened Queen that this was the year they were doing the Met, and she better make it happen. Like an old married couple who’s been here a thousand times before, Queen Latifah picks up the story there, saying that she wanted to be “the hero of my household.” And so now, here they are.

I’m saying… this is Queen Latifah… being flirtatious and chivalrous to her partner, live and in front of cameras? I am on my knees. We used to dream for days like this!!

(No, literally. Do you know many times I have wished I could be silly and thirsty and overdramatic on the internet for their love story??? To even be able make a joke like “I’m on my knees” in same that’s usually reserved for an umpteenth number of white skinny lesbians in their 20s and 30s. To borrow even more internet speak: I cry 😭)

I think a lot about what it means to be Black and a lesbian or bisexual or queer and a woman over a certain age. In part, I think about it because of this job (writing about gay people on the internet), but also it’s because of this job that I know so many of the queer icons I grew up loving — for whatever reason, they’ve never felt like they could come out. Not fully. Not in such a way that we can openly write about them.

And there are a lot of days where, to be honest, that doesn’t matter. Everyone, even celebrities, is entitled to their own life story. It’s truly probably none of our business. But Queen Latifah did an interview with her longtime partner and after loving her for what feels like my entire life now I get to all caps yell SHUT UP YALL, THEY ARE SO CUTE and they are and it’s perfect. Sometimes, that matters too.

[quirkle2]

I’ll bite, what about your blue exorcist fic are you excited to share?

OHHBOY YIPPEE

i should preface this with the fact that i've only seen s1 of the show and i don't plan on watching the rest (MAYBE ill read the manga one day. i'm not much of a manga reader tho) i like s1's version of the story. so this is based off of that timeline, i guess

it's basically about yukio finding comfort in the fact that he is very different from his brother bc based on Society most of rin's attributes are "negative" (brash, loud, reckless, easily distracted, a bit stupid sometimes) and most of yukio's attributes are "positive" (focused, ambitious, well-behaved, well-spoken, polite). he takes pride in all that; he Likes that he's the "good" brother. but then he starts paying more attention to rin and seeing how there's good in his "bad" behavior, and he learns that putting values on attributes like yukio (and society) has been doing is.unproductive and harmful.

he mostly sees this through little moments where the twins' opinions on demons differ. yukio is an exorcist, and a very good one, and he feels accomplished when he kills a demon. rin, on the other hand, has started to show that he rly doesn't like killing demons, and he'd rather make friends with them instead. yukio starts listening to rin, starts seeing how gentle he treats these demons, how a simple soft voice can get them to calm a little, and he realizes with absolute horror that rin might be right to not treat them like monsters. and if rin is right about This, that means that like 80% of yukio's identity is wrong.

he defines himself as the guy who exorcises demons to keep his brother safe, as the guy who exterminates pests to make the world better. but then his brother is gentle with them and shows them love and acts genuinely hurt when people call him names just bc he's half demon. yukio is a little late to realize it, but it kinda hits him that he's built his personality off of hating demons, all in the name of keeping a member of said demons safe. his brother is a good person, with complex ins and outs. his brother is also a demon.

some of them are dangerous, yes, but true cross academy has taught generations upon generations of people that exorcising them is the only way to solve that issue. yukio learns, thanks to rin, that that is purely false. just made up lies.

yukio learns to redefine "demon" in his head, not to something horrid, or spiteful, but something neutral, just a thing that is. but boy does he have a crisis abt what that means for him and his entire career, purpose, and future

and !!!!!!!!! IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i treat yukio RIGHT in this fic. i've seen so many fics on ao3 where yukio is just.an asshole. an unlikable, irredeemable, heartless fucking Dickhead and i've HAD it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! up to here‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ idk WHAT the fuck happens in the manga for so much of the fanbase to hate him so badly (there is an entire yukio okumura bashing tag. it'sthat bad guys) but my s1 yukio would fucking never.he would never. am i in the wrong? am i foolish to complain, when i'm the fan that attaches herself to s1 and Nothing Else like a koala and stays there, unwilling to face the fact that s1 yukio is not technically canon yukio? perhaps. maybe i Am in the wrong. but goddammit i rly like s1 yukio oka y

i treat himfucking right. i beat him up and he reacts like he would in s1 canon (dickhead remarks and heartless moments included!!!! they're important!!) but he is NOT a soul-sucking character.he is a traumatized 15 year old who's just trying to protect his brother, even when he's still grappling with what his brother is, and learning to accept it despite how he's been raised. yes he is a bit mean and definitely a hard-ass. but i will make Damn sure that his love for rin bleeds through every other fucking line. because that is Correct and Who Yukio Is.can u tell i feel strongly abt this

also sorry robin for putting u on blast but i saw ur tags and . you🫵.you get it.you understand.

[cyantomatos]

Even Stars Will Fall - Ch 10

Pairing: Eventual Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader x Ellaria Sand (home stretch babiessssssss!!) Word Count: ~2k Warnings: More self-deprecation, a probably inaccurately described medical procedure Notes: Okay I know I said the party was going to be this chapter, but I realized I never actually fit this into the original outline and needed to get it done soon, and this felt like a good place to do it. I'm predicting 3-4 more chapters? Unless some weird shit happens that's what I'm thinking, and I PROMISE I will push to have it done by the end of the year. Also we're playing fast and loose with the GoT timeline here.

Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

“Do all seers have additional powers?” You’re avoiding the gardens and the library now, knowing Ellaria and Oberyn know you well enough to look for you there. It means there isn’t really anywhere in the palace you feel comfortable, so you find yourself visiting Amphise on a day you aren’t scheduled to have lessons.

You know she notices, but she doesn’t comment.

The old woman shakes her head, never looking up from where she is pulling weeds out of one of her numerous flower beds. “No, not all. I would say about half end up manifesting additional powers, but there are so few of us to begin with it is hard to tell.”

You let the silence sit for a few seconds, and then ask the question that has been itching at you. “Do you?”

Amphise smiles in a way that you’ve come to realize means she’s been expecting whatever you said, and nods. “I do. I have an affinity with plants.”

That actually makes a lot of sense. You glance around the back garden, looking at all of the plants in a new light now. “What kind of affinity?”

“You are getting better at asking the correct questions, child.” Amphise straightens, stretching and popping her back before slowly pulling herself to her feet. You resist the urge to offer a hand up after the first time she’d slapped your hand away when you tried. “I will admit, it is hard to explain. I can sense what I suppose you would call their feelings. Not in the way you and I have feelings, but I can understand if they need water or nutrients or more or less sunlight, and give encouragement to plants that are struggling.” She looks around her garden with a satisfied smile, bracing her hands on her hips. “It may not sound particularly useful, but it suits me. Most additional gifts enhance the normal abilities a seer already has.”

The woman turns, settling her knowing gaze on you. You try not to shrink under that look, reminded of when you’d get caught doing something you knew you shouldn’t as a kid.

“Now. Why are you avoiding the palace, child?” You let out a sigh, turning to look out over the cliff.

“I wondered when you would ask me.” Your eyes drift away from the crystal blue ocean and down to your lap where your fingers are twisting together the fabric of your skirt. It’s pink, so pale it almost looks white in some lights, and fades down to a rosy color at the bottom. It reminds you of a sunset.

“Oberyn… I don’t even really know how to explain what happened. I suppose I turned Oberyn down, and I’m afraid to face them both now.” You look up, not sure what you’re expecting to see on the woman’s face, but amusement was certainly near the bottom of the list. You frown, feeling a little like a petulant child at the expression on her face. “What?”

Amphise shakes her head, letting out a fond sigh and reaching out to pat your shoulder. “I am old, child, and I have seen many things in my lifetime. I have known that boy since he was a babe, and I knew he could not be patient. Some things you do not need a seer’s abilities to know.” 

Your frown deepens at her words, and you look away as she turns towards a potted tree. “You will take the path that you will, but you are exactly where you need to be. Avoiding them will not get you where you need to go, child.” 

Ellaria finds you, anyway.

You couldn’t resist stepping out into one of the larger gardens when you got back that evening, just wanting to see the decorations. With the party only a day away, most of the decoration is done, and it is a wonder to see. The garden is draped in gold, fine carpets littered with overstuffed pillows tucked between the bright blooms, tables dotted around just waiting to be filled with food and drink. You can just imagine the way it will look lit up and filled with people, and your chest tightens at the thought.

You see Ellaria coming from across the garden, and your chest tightens further at the way she picks her way carefully between the pillows and tables, one hand on her belly. She’s more waddling than walking now, and fondness wars with apprehension in your chest as she approaches.

She looks just as worried as you feel, but before she can say anything she’s wincing and curling in on her belly. You reach forward, putting a hand on her shoulder in concern, and she silently waves a hand to ward off your questions. “I am fine, sunflower, only false contractions. It happens towards the end of a pregnancy, nothing to worry about.” She takes a few deep breaths, and a few seconds later straightens up to look at you, concern back in her eyes.

“Oberyn told me what happened.” You immediately have to fight the urge to pull back, both emotionally and physically. It isn’t Ellaria’s fault, it isn’t Oberyn’s either, really, and you hate the idea of hurting either of them.

You must not avoid flinching, however, from the look on her face.

With a puff of air you look away, dropping your hand from her shoulder. “I don’t…judge either of you, for your lifestyle. At all. I just…I can’t put myself in that position knowing the two of you will always be more important to each other than I ever will to you. And that’s not fair, I know it isn’t, but I can’t help it.” You look back at her, eyes wide, begging her to understand this isn’t a rejection, just you trying to protect yourself.

Ellaria looks so sad it nearly breaks you. “Sunflower…Oberyn would never hurt you, neither of us would.”

You feel tears begin to gather in your eyes as you look down at the ground, unable to handle the pain in her eyes. “You wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, Ellaria. You can’t promise it wouldn’t happen by accident, but I can keep myself out of situations where it’s almost guaranteed. Joining you and Oberyn…I can’t compete with soulmates.”

Ellaria lets out a gasp, and you don’t want to look up again. It’s killing you, saying this to her, but it has to be said. You just hope you don’t lose them in the process of trying to protect yourself.

Caught up in your thoughts, you don’t notice Ellaria is silent until she lets out a pained sound. You finally look up, brows furrowed in confusion, to see her bent over slightly clutching her belly. For a moment you think it must be another false contraction, but when she doesn’t straighten after a few seconds longer, your worry morphs into something resembling genuine fear.

You reach out, placing a hand on her upper arm. “Ellaria?”

She lets out a long groan, reaching up to grip your forearm painfully tight. She quickly sucks in air through her teeth, her free hand sliding over her belly slowly.

“Ellaria, are you okay? Is the baby okay? What’s wrong?” Your voice is shaking, and you really do make an effort to steady it so you don’t freak her out, but this is new territory for you. You know very well how many women died during pregnancy and childbirth before modern medicine, and you have access to none of that here.

“I am…fine.” The words are strained as she somehow manages to grip your arm tighter.

A beat later, and then you voice what both of you must be thinking.

“This one’s not false, is it.”

Ellaria is silent for a moment, and then shakes her head. “No, I do not think it is.”

You turn towards one of the open archways, shouting for anyone that’s close enough to hear. Seconds later a woman dressed in plain clothes you often see the servants in comes running, her eyes widening almost comically when she sees Ellaria clinging to you to stay upright. Ellaria lifts her head, attempting a smile at the poor girl, voice shaky and strained. “I think it would be best to fetch the maester, quickly, this little sand snake is eager to meet her father.”

What somehow feels like both an eternity and mere seconds later, you’re sitting beside Ellaria’s bed as the room bustles with activity. She’s gripping your hand tightly, and you clench your teeth to keep from uttering even a peep at the crushing pain in your hand. It isn’t even a fraction of what she must be feeling right now, and you refuse to complain about pain within earshot of a woman in labor. 

Right as the thought passes through your head she lets out a long moan of pain, her head thrown back against the pillow. Your heart clenches as you watch her ride out the pain, icy fear spreading through your veins despite knowing this isn’t the first time she’s gone through this.

As the contraction wanes you lift a glass of water to her mouth, and she drinks it down greedily before glancing up at you with a tired grin. “I can sense your worry, sunflower, but I will be fine. This is not my first birth, nor will it likely be my last.”

Before you can answer the door flies open, and relief washes over you at the sight of Oberyn. It feels weird to be relieved to see him after the last time you spoke, but you had begun to worry that he wouldn’t make it to the birth with how fast Ellaria was progressing.

He rushes forward, the calm expression on his face echoing the words Ellaria had just used to reassure you. “I came as fast as I could, my soul. How are you?”

Ellaria opens her mouth to respond, only for another contraction to interrupt, and instead another wail of pain fills the room.

The next few moments happen rather quickly. 

You and Oberyn are pushed around and out of the way, and it’s almost comical watching the midwife boss the prince around. There’s a lot of commotion, and you don’t process most of it, focusing on comforting the woman pushing a child out of her body.

Less than half an hour after Ellaria went into labor in the garden, Oberyn is pulled to the foot of the bed to help catch his newborn daughter. You finally draw a full breath when you hear the tiny, angry cry pierce the room, letting go of the worry you had been carrying for the past half hour despite reassurances.

Oberyn slides onto the bed beside Ellaria, beaming down at the squalling baby in his arms. “She is beautiful. You did so well, as always, my soul.” Ellaria reaches out her free hand, the other still locked in yours, and brushes a finger across the newborn’s messy cheek before sliding her hand into Oberyn’s, a look of adoration on her face. “She is.”

You reach up, gripping your necklace out of habit for comfort as you watch the happy family, barely registering the stone already being warm to the touch over the pang ripping through your chest at the sight. You’d been so worried for Ellaria that you’d forgotten the conversation you had with Oberyn, and watching them together is just driving everything you said home. They belong together, and despite Ellaria stubbornly still gripping your hand tightly, you feel the space between you and them more keenly than ever before. You’re an outsider, an intruder, and you don’t belong here.

Ellaria finally drops your hand to take her daughter against her chest, and as she guides the fussy baby to nurse you scoot as quietly as you can away from the bed. You don’t see Oberyn look up, catching the door as it slips closed behind you, and you don’t see the look of pain the two share over their daughter's head.

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[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 2

Warnings: mentions of violence, The Darkling

Word count: 1200ish

“How were you missed by the testers?” That’s the first question he asks you. Not entirely what you had expected.

“The same way Alina did. I taught her how to do it. All it takes is a little pain to fool most testers.”

“You kept her from me?” The Darkling asks in carefully controlled anger.

“I didn’t know what she was, just that she felt different. I kept a young girl from being sent off to war,” you correct.

“But you knew what you were by then. Didn’t you?” It’s not a question.

“Yes.” You began summoning somewhere around 6 or 7, old enough to know about Grisha, too young to really understand. Your parents did, though. They seemed to think beating you would get rid of the ‘Black Heretic’s Corruption’. It didn’t. Instead it made you sneaky, controlled, hyper aware of the people around you and resistant to pain. You learned to use your summoning in small, less noticeable ways. You could pick a lock without moving your hands, tie a note in a rope you couldn’t see, stitch torn clothing to appear temporarily mended. You could even sink yourself into the shadows and out of sight. 

“How long have you known?” A question you don’t want to answer.

“Since I was a child.”

“And your family? The people you were born to, did they share the same ability?

“No.”

“Surely someone would have spread the news of a new shadow summoner not of my line. You hid from my testers, but how did you hide from the rest of Ravka?”

“Carefully.”

“Are you being willfully obtuse or are you just dimwitted?” The insult is said evenly, testing the waters.

“It would be so much easier for you if it was the latter. Wouldn’t it?” You grin.

“Too easy, I suppose,” he murmurs. “How did you come to arrive at the orphanage?”

“I ran away from home at 12. Living on the streets was dangerous. I chose the safety of the orphanage until I aged out.”

“Why did you run?”

“Why do you think?” You snap. He raises an eyebrow both in question and warning. “A Shadow Summoner born into a non Grisha family who lived their life within sight of the fold? I was lucky they didn’t burn me the moment they first saw me summon.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t continue to pry, you don’t know how much you could stand to tell him tonight. Instead he asks a question that fills you with shame. One of the rare things in life you regret. “Does she know?”

“No, I plan on telling her tonight. Granted that you hold true to your word, of course.” You really shouldn’t be taunting a man who has decades of summoning practice on you. You honestly don’t know how old he is, rumor has it he’s over a century. His face is young, but his eyes have a depth to them you haven’t seen before. 

The Darkling pauses to think for a moment before saying, “No. It could be advantageous to keep your summoning secret for the time being.”

“I’ve kept it a secret from her for long enough. It’s bad enough that I told you first, she’s going to be livid.”

“Be that as it may, having the element of surprise may help you keep her safe. Would it not?”

“Don’t you pull that manipulation bullshit on me, Shadow Man. Unless you give me a specific reason and a timeline, I am telling her tonight.”

The Darkling glares at you, likely for both your attitude and nickname for him. It’s honestly one of the more attractive ones.

“Give me a week. I would like to appraise your capability for myself, in private. At that point, we can discuss whether or not to tell the younger Ms. Starkov and, consequently, the rest of Ravka.”

“Tell me what happened to the letters Mal and I sent and it’s a deal,” you counter.

“They were read and burned.” He’s direct and emotionless.

“Read by whom?” Your voice is almost a growl. Saints, this man is a piece of work.

“Me.”

“So you read me begging my baby sister to let me know she was okay, for months, and didn’t allow any communication to get through?” Your voice is a viper’s hiss, the warning before a strike. The room darkens and you aren’t sure which of you is causing it this time.

“It would have been a security risk to allow communication between the three of you.” He’s unphased. You’re angry, abnormally so. Usually you have a tight grip on your temper, but you have spent months trying to get to your sister. Weeks of searching for news, only to find out she’s been presented at the Grand Palace upon arrival. You had tried to get into the Little Police the official way multiple times and you had been denied. At this point, Soldat Sol was becoming an increasing noise in the ears of the people. You chose to take some time evaluating the threat before you essentially turned yourself over to the most dangerous man on the continent. You had killed to protect her, taking out the most vile of the cult, the ones who would see her sacrificed to the fold. You would do it again in a heartbeat. You had little remorse for people who would so easily harm a child. Alina may be of adult age, barely at that, but she was still so young and naive to the ways of the world.

“Bullshit, Darkling. You wanted her isolated, no friends but the ones you allowed her. You wanted her to come to you, before anyone else. I heard about the ambush and your dashing rescue on the way to Os Alta. I wouldn’t be surprised if you arranged that to make yourself her hero,” you spit.

The Darkling’s shadows fill the room. His dark feels different from your own, but familiar in a way you can’t place. You can still see him through the dark and you watch him stalk towards you. You hold your ground and show no fear. You know he won’t kill you. That would ruin whatever trust he’s built with Alina. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your fear.

“I have never and will never put Alina in harm's way. I have protected her from the King, the court, radicalists, fanatics, and assassins. She has been fed, sheltered, and taught. Her wasting sickness healed. In all honesty, what can you do that I cannot?”

He’s within arm’s reach, staring down his nose at you, but his towering form doesn’t deter you as you answer, “I can keep her safe from you.”

You were surprised he had let you go so easily after that. Alina had been biting her nails when you opened the door. The Darkling announced his decision to let you stay, adding that he would like to take some time to get to know the Sun Summoner’s sister and that he would come to you tomorrow afternoon. Alina was excited to share everything with you and she chattered well into the night about her new friends, her lessons, her squaller arch nemesis, and the heart render she had yet to make smile. You were exhausted from the day, but you couldn’t interrupt your sister. She looked so healthy, so bright. Like she held the sun under her skin. She was happy, you realized. You would do anything to keep her like this. If anyone deserved to live a good life, it was her.

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@kayhi808, budugu

[khaleesiofalicante]

Hello, I've read TLND and it was definitely good. I've seen the way you portrayed the characters and the characterization you've chosen for them. In this fic, I see how the age gap can be seen as a power imbalance between Alec and Magnus. The way you portrayed the discrimination the world can show between them is pretty commendable. The things Magnus would face and Alec would not.

So, the age gap being a power imbalance topic. I am happy that you've added it. But in canon too, I see the age gap thing. In books, Alec is barely 18 when he gets into his first relationship, I'm not saying that he's not supposed to have a relationship at 18 but what I'm trying to say is he doesn't know anything about it. Magnus is approximately 340, let's say, and the difference between them is huge. But the more the years, the more the imbalance is not what I'm trying to say either. Magnus is the right person who behaves most gently and is very cautious and careful in the beginning. He ensures if Alec is comfortable and seeks consent. He never forces Alec to do anything.

I see the impact of "too much age gap" on girls when dating older men at a very young age. I see how movies and shows are criticized for encouraging the idea of teen girls dating men who are 10-20 years older than them which is absolutely valid. I too do not accept it. It does indeed give out a wrong message. Am I saying that a 10 year gap is in not correct? No, surely not. When a woman is proper adult and knows how to make decision for herself, then I think an age gap doesn't really play a massive role.

Now, a relationship between two men and the relationship between a woman and a man is different. Certain things faced by women due to the age difference are not faced by men at all when in the same relationship and vice versa.

Okay, what I really wanted to ask is if it is proper when a teenager is approached by a much older person even though the teen is really in love with them and this person's intentions are genuine? Can we call it a power imbalance even though there is none? Can we term it as wrong? Should we? when no problems have arisen due to it and never will. Should we treat it differently according to the gender involved? Should we say it is wrong when it happens between a man and a woman? Should we be okay when it is with two people of the same gender? Should we be against it even though both of them are happy and in love? Even if is pure?

So sorry for such a long ask. And, I've asked you this because you are a person who has lots of knowledge about social issues.

Thank you.

Ah, this is a great question.

The age gap is definitely a big factor in TLND - especially in timeline 01. You see that it has less relevance in the second and third timelines because yes as people are older and mature, age gaps make little sense as long as it's been consenting adults.

In the books too, I think CC showed the impact of the age gap quite nicely. The whole debacle (and the breakup that follows) with Alec feeling insecure about his relationship and getting help from Camille and trying to take Magnus' immortality away, all of it is influenced by the fact that he is very young and he is inexperienced and he was struggling with how to save and protect his first relationship.

Now about your question. I think the most important thing to understand here is that power imbalances are caused by so many factors - not just age and gender. For example, one of the other factors that influenced their dynamic in TLND is the fact that Alec was rich and Magnus was a student on a scholarship. There is also the fact that Alec is white and Magnus is a person of colour (and a foreigner too). In other words, the more imbalances one has in a relationship, the more the more power one person can have over the other - intentionally or not.

I think we ALWAYS need to be cautious when a teenager is approached by an older person. I personally find men who date teenagers (even a 25-year-old mandating a 19-year-old girl) to be a bit odd. Why can't you find someone your own age? Why is it that you need to be with someone who is a teenager? What is it about you that keeps the mature women away? Of course, as you said, some of these relationships are consenting and don't have abuse or exploitation. But practicing caution is always important.

If the love is genuine and everyone is happy, then it's their business. We can make our opinion known, but at the end of the day, remember adults are responsible for their own actions (and consequences). So, if we see a teenager (over 18!) being in a relationship with an adult, whether it's healthy and happy or not, all we can do is let our opinion known and then let them deal with it.

I did want to highlight that these things are a little different when they're between men. You see a lot of young men dating much older men in the gay community. It's a very common practice. It's important to understand that a lot of things that are frowned upon in heterosexual relationships, even things like intimate partner abuse, are normalized in queer relationships. It is quite concerning and definitely a problem. Again, I repeat, as long as these relationships are consensual and they're both adults, there is nothing we can do about it. It's up to the person to communicate how they feel in that relationship and be introspective about their choices and their dynamic with their partner.

"Can we call it a power imbalance even though there is none?" - About this, absolutely. Would you only call someone gay if they have gay sex? No, right. In the same way, a power imbalance is there even if that power is not exploited or exercised. Power imbalances are not necessarily bad. But just because someone isn't using their power to their advantage, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. So, it doesn't matter if a couple is healthy and happy, the power imbalance still exists.

I hope this makes sense :)