#said to me given the information she had at her disposal. and that i really had not done anything to her that could warrant that. etc.

[camgoloud]

you ever just. become overwhelmed by a sudden out-of-nowhere wave of tenderness and affection and longing for reconnection directed towards someone to whom you no longer speak for Very Good Reasons

[heroineimages]

Weird parody idea

I haven't been able to find it again, but a while back on Tumblr there was a post going around about being the one maid in a hentai mansion who actually does her work while everyone else in the place is busy fornicating. While the maid in the post seemed grumpy about her work, I had the idea of making a cheery little ace maid who's completely nonchalant about the weird deviance she's surrounded by. I wrote this brief sfw scene that's all about making weird dialogue seem like an everyday exchange, and I have ideas for a few other scenes that are less sfw.

“Thank you for waiting, Mister Jacobs!” I called, holding my apron and skirts up as I trotted down the lane to the manor’s front gate. Without breaking stride, I scooped up a used rubber from the nearby grass with a trash-spear and deposited it in the little disposable bag I carried for that purpose. The master’s family could be so messy about that kind of thing.

“Miss Ada again, is it?” Mister Jacobs, the postman, greeted in return. “No Mister Harris again this morning?” he asked, referring to the usual doorman.

“No, I’m afraid Mister Harris the gateman is still chained up in the mistress’s sex-basement,” I informed him as he handed me the master and mistress’s letters. “I regret to tell you that he won’t be able to say ‘hello’ and give you head this morning.”

“Ach, that makes three days in a row,” Mister Jacobs lamented humorously. He squinted a bit at me with a queer tilt to his head. “How’d you do it, lass? You told me yourself that you don’t enjoy sex much, so how do you handle working for a family as notoriously deviant as the Williamsons?”

“Oh, I really don’t mind for the most part!” I answered, blushing a bit at the bevy of spicy memories about their aforementioned notorious deviance. “The master and mistress are both kind and very respectful of my boundaries—but I understand how unlikely that seems, given how few boundaries everyone else around here seems to have!” I laughed.

“Well, do remember me to Mister Harris when you see him,” Mister Jacobs nodded, tipping his hat.

“Of course!” I beamed, curtsying. “I’ll tell him you said hello when I put fresh water in his dog-bowl later,” I promised. Letters in hand, I waved farewell and trotted back up the lane to the front door.

[gloamists]

“Will you tear down the system or become part of it?” Why Percy Jackson will always be better than Harry Potter

JK Rowlings blatant transphobia and horrible writing skills aside, Percy Jackson as a character is leaps and bounds better than Harry Potter, and it is not particularly close.

These two characters often get compared to each other, and for good reason. Both are characters under the “chosen one” archetype. Both presented as prodigies within their given stories, and both are subject to oppressive governmental type forces throughout their stories. However, one of these characters decides to tear down said oppressive force by the end of their book, while the other decides to work within it. And that, at least in my opinion, is the glaring difference between them.

If you haven’t already guessed, Harry Potter is the one that decides to work within the system rather than tear it down. At the end of his series, HP decides to basically become a wizard cop, after being completely shafted and done wrong by The Ministry of Magic throughout his story. When Harry tried to convince the Ministry that Voldemort is in fact alive and killing people once again, they brush him off and call him a liar as to not incite panic and distrust of the Ministry. When Harry uses magic in self defense outside of school grounds they decide to try and expel him instead of hearing him out. Hell, they even try to put his Godfather, Sirius Black, to DEATH in the 3rd book. But despite all of this, Harry decides to join them at the end of the final book? Why? Because Harry is not hero, and he is no revolutionary. He is the product of his own creators blatant bigotry and ignorance.

Percy Jackson on the other hand, is completely different. In the Percy Jackson series, the overarching problem really is that the Gods are not claiming their children. Leaving them to fend for themselves in a world where almost everything is out to kill them. This results in Demigods like Luke Castellan to rebel and side with the Titans to bring down the Gods. Throughout the book, Percy clashes with Luke and other like minded Demigods who want to take down Olympus. And at the end, Luke ends up sacrificing himself to save the people he loves. Due to his part in fighting against the Titans, Percy is granted 1 wish, anything he could want. The Gods offer him immortality, assuming that would of course be what he wanted. Because what could be better than being a God? What could be better than being them. But instead of taking immortality and eternal power, Percy decides to make the Gods promise to claim ALL of their kids. Pointing out that if they had done this from the beginning, Luke and the other Demigods would never have rebelled and none of this would ever have happened. Notice what I am trying to get at here. Instead of using the wish to grasp immortality and benefit from the oppressive system like another main character from another series did, Percy used to the power at his disposal to tear down the oppressive system in front of him and change it for the benefit of the future Demigods.

Both of these characters are presented as hero archetypes, but it obvious to me that only one really fits that mold. And it isn’t Harry Potter. Hell, we were shown signs of Harry’s indifference to the oppressive force in his world early on. When Hermione informs Harry that the house elves are effectively slaves working for the wizarding world, Harry tells her that because they seem to enjoy it that it really isn’t their problem. And that right there told me all I needed to know about his character.

Now it is no secret that JK Rowling herself is a terrible person. The constant transphobic rhetoric she spits out of her mouth on the internet is disgusting. Not to mention the blatant racism and antisemitism seeping out of her writing. Naming the only asian character in her book “Cho Chang” and the only black character “Kingsley Shacklebolt”. And the Gringotts Goblins are obviously jewish caricatures. This ignorance and indifference undoubtedly plays a role in how terribly written Harry Potter is as a character.

Anyways, Harry Potter is a terrible series read Percy Jackson instead it’s much better thanks ily bye ❤️❤️

[acourtofthought]

Have you noticed how much page time SJM dedicates to Helion in Silver Flames? Maybe he'll be getting a book but as it stands, she's never strongly hinted at him having one the way she has for other characters.

Yet SJM really hit the Rhys / Helion friendship hard in Nessian's book which is a bit strange since Rhys doesn't share a POV but through that friendship, we learn quite a bit about Helion and his powers.

I think SJM is using Helion as a way to relay information to us about Lucien.

Lucien is not really friends with the IC at this point. He occasionally works for them and his mate is living there but since he and Elain are at odds for the time being, he doesn't have many reasons to be on page in a Nessian book. But granting Helion page time means that everything we learn about him, can be passed on to the future of Lucien, being his son and Heir to Day.

Rhys is having Helion teach him about truly impenetrable shields / Feyre had muttered when Cassian asked about the ironclad defenses, so strong they even masked her scent. / “It’s all part of the same shield. Helion wasn’t joking about it being impenetrable.”

I wonder if Lucien could learn to use a shield for protection while facing off with an enemy or whether he could use one in a situation where he needs to remain hidden and would have to mask his scent.

But the male had one thousand libraries at his disposal, and had put them all to good use for the treaty.

Lucien will also have access to these libraries.

He’d wanted to enter the dark city in a golden chariot led by four snow-white horses with manes of golden fire,

What?! Tell me how there's not been fanart of Elucien on these horses! 😍

The winged horses were rare—so rare that it was said Helion’s seven breeding pairs of flying horses were the only ones left. Lore held that there had once been far more of them before recorded history, and that most had just vanished, as if they’d been devoured by the sky itself. Their population had dwindled further in the last thousand years, for reasons no one could explain. Helion’s most beloved pair—this black stallion, Meallan, and his mate—hadn’t produced offspring in three hundred years, and that last foal hadn’t made it out of weaning before he’d succumbed to an illness no healer could remedy. According to legend, the pegasuses had come from the island the Prison sat upon—had once fed in fair meadows that had long given way to moss and mist. Perhaps that was part of the decline: their homeland had vanished, and whatever had sustained them there was no longer.

Not only is Lucien going to have access to the Pegasus but the fact that they come from the land where the Prison is on provides a connection to this area for Elucien. I could also see Elain being the person to discover what brought about the decline of the food they fed on (which I'm thinking is some sort of plant) as well as helping to regrow it.

“She’s here?” Helion practically shimmered with golden light.

I can't wait for Lucien to glow from happiness! ☀��

Helion had spoken to and briefly touched the hands of the two Autumn Court soldiers chained in that room, kept alive and fed by Rhys’s magic. Helion’s face had tensed when he’d touched their hands—and he’d then murmured that he’d seen enough. I can feel spells—like threads. Ones that can enchant feel like bindings around an individual. I sensed none of that.”

Lucien should have this same ability, to simply touch the hands of someone and feel a spell. It's a total headcannon at this point but I wonder if he'll sense some sort of spell or something on Elain the first time they touch hands (oooh, this brings to mind the Pride & Prejudice scene where he touches her hand while helping her into the carriage and is affected by it). SJM had pinned an image of sleeping beauty before and in ACOWAR, Feyre tells us the gates to Elain's mind are "sleeping buds". Imagine if Lucien senses something that's been holding Elain back from "waking" and revealing her full potential, something involving her need for light (aka Spring or Day).

Nesta faced Helion again, taking in that spiked golden crown and the draped white robe

Lucien wearing this outfit is all my current fantasies.

“Doesn’t it rake its cold claws down your senses?” Helion asked. Helion shuddered, and Nesta threw the cloth over the Mask. As if the cloth somehow blinded it to their presence. “Perhaps an ancestor of mine once used it, and the warning of its cost is imprinted upon my blood.” Helion shook out a breath. “All right, not-Lady Nesta. Allow me to show you some warding tricks even clever Rhysand doesn’t know.”

It's possible that both Lucien and Elain now have a connection to the Mask (her because she's Made and him because of his relation to Helion). I had another post talking about the possibility of Lucien coming up with some sort of scheme that might at first look like he's gone rogue only to show off some Rhysand level clever plot, I wonder if it could involve the Mask. Also, the excerpt provides us with the knowledge that Lucien could too have the ability to ward things.

“I would like to remove myself from the Mask’s odious presence, and perhaps enjoy your palace, Rhysand. It’s been a long while since I was in a place of such quiet. If you’ll allow it, I’ll stay here for an hour or two.” “Something bothering you at home?” Rhys inquired, falling into step beside the High Lord.

This is interesting because it's setting up a future book for some Day Court drama which is a court Lucien will soon be part of.

I had Helion show me how to apply a shield like the one I had around Feyre to the Prison itself.” “You guessed this would happen?”. “Feyre and I were concerned that Beron would try to free the inmates to use in a conflict—just as we used the Bone Carver in the war. Give me tonight, and I’ll get the shield untangled and open for you tomorrow.” “It takes that long to undo a shield?” “It’s a combination of magic and spell work, so yes.

I think there's a few ideas floating around about Elain and the Prison considering three sisters / three mountains. What I've come up with is the possibility of Koschei's soul being hidden there so this could tell us need to know information on Elucien gaining access into it.

“No, it’s a Symphonia, a rare device from Helion’s court. It can trap music within itself, and play it back for you. It was originally invented to help compose music, but it never caught on, for some reason.”

I'm not sure this really gives us much in terms of future plot but it tells us that Day Court has cool stuff 😂

Perhaps Amren was working on some way to undo the bargain—if anyone could think of a way, it would be her. Or Helion, he supposed.

To me, this could suggest one of a few things. Cassian mentions the following in regards to bargains:

And if the bargain was broken … the magic could exact terrible vengeance.

We know Briallyn had made a bargain with Koschei however she is no longer a threat but there has been concerns over Beron working with Koschei:

do not believe your High Lord would wish me to go to other territories and ask them to help with Briallyn and Koschei. To help them remember that all it might take to secure Briallyn’s alliance would be to hand over a certain Archeron sister. Don’t be stupid enough to believe my father hasn’t thought of that, too.”

“Then you would certainly have a war on your hands. My father would go straight to Briallyn—and Koschei, I suppose—and then go to the other discontent territories, and you would be wiped off the proverbial map. Perhaps literally, since the Night Court would be divvied up between the other territories if Rhysand and Feyre die without an heir.”

“So they are trying to find this Dread Trove in order to track down the Cauldron for Briallyn, and likely free Koschei in the process. And launch a war, with Beron as her ally, that would grant them whatever territories they wish. Or give some to Koschei, depending on what bargain he strikes with Briallyn—probably one to his advantage.”

So there could be a chance that Beron makes a bargain with Koschei, maybe even one involving delivering Elain to him (his "sons" mate") who has ties to the Night Court. Having her = leverage over the NC who is aware of where the Cauldron is and Lucien would try to find a way to undo that bargain.

It could also be something that involves the bargain Elain's father made:

He should have asked someone before coming here how much time remained before Vassa would be forced to return to the continent—to the sorcerer-lord at a remote lake who held her leash, and had allowed her to leave only temporarily, as part of a bargain Feyre’s father had struck.

I don't think Lucien can free Vassa from her actual curse because we're told it doesn't seem to be a spell but there's a chance he could extend the time of Vassa's temporary freedom by breaking the bargain Papa Archeron made.

“I told you: their castle is too heavily warded, and full of magical traps that would trip up even Helion. (👀 tell me this isn't hinting at Lucien ending up sneaking in to the Queens castle on the continent in an Elucien book?)

If SJM used Helion as a tool to deliver information to us about Lucien, it's a pretty clever way of doing so. Looking back over everything has made me even more excited for what we might see in his story!

[asknerdizzy]

Special Visit

Haven had been uncharacteristically terse all day, as her usual composure was slipping just enough to make her subordinates uneasy. Everyone was given clear instructions: Salvatore’s arrival was to be kept secret, the location fortified with every layer of protection Haven could muster at her disposal.

Kerberos was called in and assured her that the route was safe. “Good.” Haven said as she was smoothing her hands down her cloak, though her movements betrayed her nerves.”Salvatore’s safety is paramount. If anything happens to him…” She trailed off, but the weight of the unspoken threat made Kerberos tense. “You got it boss. But what’s the big deal with this guy? Why all the secrecy? With how big you talk of the guy no one should bother him.” Haven’s sharp gaze pierces him, her tone cutting. “Salvatore is... not what he once was. You will treat him with respect regardless. And remember, his arrival is to remain quiet.” Kerberos stayed quiet as he was dismissed but his curiosity deepened.

Kerberos was tasked with picking Salvatore up from the designated location. He was excepting someone imposing, but instead found a frail, sickly old man. The guy looked awful and more like an undead. Plus the smell…reminded him of Haven a tad, but it was overwhelmingly bad. Kerberos had to suck it up. Salvatore sat in his wheelchair, a heavy blanket on his lap obscuring his limbs that most likely couldn’t support him any longer. His skin pale with veins very much visible. His eyes are what made Kerberos think twice about him. They were behind round colored glasses, dark, sunken in and glassy. There’s something unsettling in his gaze—not power, but an uncanny depth, as if he’s already read everything Kerberos is thinking.

Kerberos hesitated wondering if this really was the guy. “You’re…Father Salvatore?” The old man lips curled into a smile. “I see you were expecting someone more…” He briefly motioned to himself showing his hands were bandaged. “Well not someone like me. But I assure you I am he. You must be Kerberos.” Kerberos shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to offend-“

“No need to apologize.” Salvatore interrupted, his voice calm but a hint of amusement. “Haven likes to flatter me. Maybe too much. But she’s like that, so affectionate.” Kerberos looked even more confused. “Are you fu**ing joking?” He quickly covered his mouth and Salvatore merely chuckled. “I like to exaggerate too, and I don’t mind you talking informally to me boy.” Kerberos looked around before cautiously shaking his head.”I’ll stick to the formal sh-stuff…let’s head out.” Kerberos stepped forward to wheel Salvatore to the waiting vehicle. Wanting this to be over so he doesn’t screw up more so than he already has.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 5 Meakashi pt. 9

It's time for the Watanagashi festival kids! It's all uphill for everyone from here on out!

First up, Shion decides to sleep the day away. What a champ. Then we cut to Satoshi doing nothing suspicious whatsoever. Just mentally going over how he can't keep living like this, and looking at a garbage desk his aunt might want. What a sweet kid, looking out for the aunt who is a smoking terror by looking at usable furniture she might want. I'd probably use a desk I found abandoned, as long as it wasn't covered in dump gunk anyway. Hardwood or metal furniture if it was in decent condition hell yeah I'd take it. Nothing fabric though, like office chairs? No way.

I do like this juxtaposition between acting like they normally do and Rika trying her level best to try to cheer up Satoko who's in a bad situation. Also I enjoy how this section is just going through these events at a rapid pace, it puts you slightly off-balance with how it's just whipping by from scene to scene.

Like Keiichi before him Satoshi seems to have just committed fully to the now or never flashpoint of murdering one of Satoko's relatives. It hasn't given a real time of when he did the deed, but part of me suspects that this bit, where he feels like he's manamorphosed into a different person happened after he killed his aunt. This can't be before because it seems unlikely since he mentioned he had to lug home a chest for her that he'd mention the desk and she'd go off on her own, he'd probably have to go with her to verify that it is indeed a desk. My theory is, the reason for his barefoot running is because this is the time he's using to dispose of the body.

Back when I graduated from high school they did an event that had a raffle in it, there was stuff like fifty dollar gift cards to various stores, a few random other objects, and a few ipods. So, during the raffle they announced the winner of one of the ipods, it was a deaf student that won it. It was one of the most hilarious things I'd ever witnessed, and I just absolutely delight in telling this story. Cause, what are the odds! I'm pretty certain the deaf student also found it funny.

Knowing my luck I'd enter the raffle at the 1982 Watanagashi and probably win a coupon for a free ice cream or something. I never win raffles, or contests, I could enter a contest and be the only entrant and still walk away empty handed.

The Hinamizawa information network works fast, it seems they've already found the body.

Just an aside, they may have said her name before but I never really caught on how they pronounce Oryou. So every time it appeared I read it as Or-you, and in the back of my head kept to the idea that it was probably actually Or-yo. So when Kimiyoshi there pronounced it as Oreo I found that kind of funny. The great and terrible criminal leader Fig Newton.

I find it interesting that Chips Ahoy there seems to have instantly figured out who the culprit is, if not the victim. Clearly she knew it was going to happen again, but part of me wonders if she was secretly hoping that it wouldn't, that maybe the seemingly random deaths were just that, a weird coincidence, and nothing more. But alas, nothing's ever easy is it? If we're operating under the theory that the Sonozakis are actually innocent of all the various deaths and disappearances I wonder if Oryou has her suspicions about who it is that's behind the larger plot? Or if she just views this particular murder as just some rando trying to take advantage of an already confused situation?

[janeykath318]

Science Talk: TaserTorch

Prompt: “I haven’t seen you since you blacked out and threw up on my shoes at that party last year.”

“So, is that a no to the date, then?”

“Heads up Darcy: your flaming admirer is on his way over here.”

Clint whispered a warning to his friend, who turned and sighed when she saw Johnny Storm coming toward her. The man was cute, but a walking red flag.

“Thanks, Clint. I’ll dispose of him quickly,” she murmured.

“And I’ll help you get rid of the body,” Clint muttered with a much too eager grin.

“He’s not THAT annoying,” Darcy sighed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Johnny said, sauntering up beside her with his usual obnoxious smirk. (Okay, it was kind of cute, but she’d be dead before she’d admit that.)

“Ugh. Storm.” She sighed. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Nice to see you too, Lewis. Thought you might like to talk a little science.”

She didn’t believe him.

“I haven’t seen you since you blacked out and threw up on my shoes at that party last year.” Darcy reminded him, hoping he’d be a little embarrassed at his idiocy. Those had been very expensive shoes, after all.

“So, is that a no to the date, then?” he persisted, looking only slightly chastened at the memory.

“What do you think?” Darcy retorted. “If you genuinely want to talk science, we can talk right here in this semi-crowded room filled with nerds and superheroes.”

She fixed him with a challenging stare, expecting him to brush her off or double down on the flirting, but Johnny just nodded.

“Fair enough. I’m far from the level Reed or Banner or Stark are, but I’ve always found space fascinating. Your article on supernovas was really interesting.”

“You read that?”

Darcy’s eyebrows rose. She’d thought the only thing he would read would be Playboy or Popular Mechanics.

“Yeah. I had to google some terms, but it was really interesting and informative. Also, you have a very engaging way of writing that stands out among some of the dry as sawdust stuff in those journals.”

“Thanks,” she replied, with a slight chuckle. “That’s one of my pet peeves in the field. I want to make science fun and fascinating, not bore people to sleep. I could go on a whole rant about that, but that might drive you away.”

“Try me,” Johnny stated.

“You mean that? Cause we might be here awhile,” she warned him.

“I don’t mind,” he replied. “It’ll be way more interesting than dealing with Reed’s condescending attitude. He’s a good brother in law, but totally insufferable sometimes.”

“So I’ve heard,” Darcy agreed, glancing over to see Reed and Tony chatting. “Jane gets all ragey for a solid day after meeting with him. If you’re serious about listening to my impassioned rant, we’d probably better go sit down in the lounge.”

“Sure,” he agreed, happy she was willing to talk to him about it. Finally, some common ground.

Much to Darcy’s surprise, Johnny turned out to be not just a good listener, but an actively engaged one as well. He was genuinely interested in learning about her studies and asked very good questions that kept her on her toes. As a result, she let her guard down and they talked about a lot more than science.

She found herself laughing as Johnny described the pranks he’d played on Reed and Ben and the all out war he’d had against Clint, another champion prankster.

The time sped by, and before they knew it, the place had emptied out and the time was late.

“Whoa. How did it get to be 11:30?” she wondered.

Johnny looked up in surprise. “Wow. I have no idea. You needing to leave?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I turn into a pumpkin at midnight. But it was nice talking to you. When you’re not a horn dog, you’re actually really interesting.”

Johnny turned a bit pink.

“I’m working on turning over a new leaf. Thank you for this. I’ve learned a lot tonight. Walk you to your car? I’ll behave.”

“Given how late it is, I think I’ll take you up on that,” she said, as she rose to go collect her things. “I hate going out in the dark and you have a handy built-in lighting system.”

Johnny chuckled. “Yup. Occasionally I am useful for something.”

He was as good as his word and lit the way with a flaming fireball in his hand.

“Not gonna lie, that’s really cool” she admitted as she opened her car door. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“Most likely. Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime,” Darcy urged him.

Johnny smiled at her. “I’ll try. Have a nice night, Darcy.”

As she drove off, he ambled slowly towards his own car, thinking happily how nice it was to be able to be himself for once and how refreshing Darcy was. He was sick of simpering fangirls who just wanted to get him in bed and he was sick of not being a person someone like her would ever want to be with. He knew he’d have to work for it and it might take awhile, but he felt she was definitely worth it.

[shadow-pixelle]

Well I have done a dumb thing today. It's gonna be fun though.

Summary of events;

My streaming buddy has a points redeem on Twitch to make her do voice acting. She was told to do Yoda, and her impression was... not the greatest. I made a joke about jumping in VC with her and doing it, because I could probably do it better- Yoda voice is weird but not really that hard to do, so long as you don't make your sentences too long- and she said it was because I had practice writing him. I've only done it once, in Credit to the Order, but ok.

Then I remembered that Monday would be my Fallen Order stream, assuming I was well enough, so I could do a thing there.

And then I had the same thought about Friday, which is what we call a Twitch and Bitch session where said friend would be in a call with me for two hours and entirely unable to escape.

And then I made The Mistake.

Which was make a joke about how I'd been given a twenty to do it (I hadn't). And then another joke about how, for a twenty, I'd do it in class on Tuesday, which is a 2 hour lesson. So not too bad.

The issue is that I'd missed that a specific friend of ours was present. This friend of ours is weird, has an odd amount of disposable income, and also a fondness for attempting to break the streamer by giving them money.

I got told that I would be paid a twenty, and not long after that got an email notification informing me that I had been paid a twenty.

So, long story short, I'm now doing Yoda voice in class on Tuesday and will only stop if the teacher directly asks me to. Voice acting is optional, since I've been told the grammar is the important bit.

Helpfully there will be proof, because I have a buddy in that class with me who sits right there at the same table who has agreed to be my character witness to me having done a Yoda impression until I'm told by the teacher to shut up or the lesson ends, whichever happens first. Said witness will probably be dying of laughter the entire time but hey, that part's not my problem.

(I've also agreed that if the teacher does immediately tell me to shut up, I'll just move it to a different lesson, which for this week my group doesn't have tutor monitoring anyway and I'm fairly sure that teacher would find it fucking hilarious and let it slide. So either way it's happening.)

It's going to be such a disaster and I cannot wait to do it. I really hope the teacher finds it funny enough that I'm not immediately shut down tho.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Now that I have some more time in my hands I should respond to what you told me about the afterlife teather stuff when I send in my review for last episode; I'm aware we're yet to see everything this piece of the story has to offer, but the issue I have with it, and by extension the other ghostly interactions here, is how the ghosts meddle with the humans as it is the trope itself that annoys me greatly.

My biggest issue with it is that I feel like oftentimes it makes the living characters feel like complete idiots that can't solve anything unless they speak to a ghost, even though the clues do exist in their disposal. But nooooooo, we need to talk to this dead guy so he can confirm what we already knew from our own, living world, investigation. This trope just annoys me to no end as I believe the living characters should always take priority in actions over deceased ones, since, well, they're dead. This is the whole reason why the WOH's parents ghost channeling segments are my least favorite parts in the blog, since they're literally just that.

This isn't to say I hate it everytime the ghosts interfere, as I don't have a problem when it's done in a way where it was actually needed to pass some information, as it validates the otherworldy intervention, like with revealing that Iroha took the luck that was meant to be Akemi's or how Satoko deleted any footage of her SAing Yukio herself and not the steering comitee trying to cover up her tracks. These are instances where it HAD to be the ghosts revealing it since there's no living person to tell that or much concrete evidence left behind, and if the other things the afterlife teather will do in-story are in this same vein, then I won't mind them at all, but knowing how the WOH's parent channeling goes here, I'll remain wary so that I don't get angry later down the line if they turn out more similar to it than Akane and Nagi's dream conversations.

With that being said, again, please don't take it upon yourself to alter what's planned due to my opinion on these matters, since it's all 100% personal taste from my part and not at all an objective critique of your writing.

-Critic anon

//Right, I had a feeling it would be related to this and thank you for typing, while I do understand that the ghost channeling stuff might not be enjoyable for everyone and I know I had some concerns about them talking to ghost or it becomes overpower but the reason I had this is that in Danganronpa canon ghost do exist and Komaru did talk with Monaca's father and DR3 had the after life theater.

//Plus if we are to include Fanganronpa's side of things, well Mikako is the Ultimate Exorcist aka she has a talent in channeling spirits which Hope's Peak Academy scouted for it so pretty much it's why we got ghost stuff going on.

//As for the stuff with the WoH, a reason I have that happening is mostly because of the characters that are investigating; Aside from Sunako who is collecting, gathering and getting evidence - the others aren't exactly levels of Kyoko or Masa because Toko didn't exactly lead a investigation or most time Syo was in the trial and since Toko and Syo don't share the same memories that means she would know somethings but wouldn't be able to lead an investigation and Komaru didn't really investigate at all in Towa City, she gather stuff and even Hiroko was the one finding those on the hit list.

//I know that people could suggest Takaaki or Fuhito to help with this given ones a police officer and the other is a detective but the reason those 2 aren't is due the WoH's themselves, remember that most of them don't trust adults, view them as demons and while sure they did give up on the Children's Paradise plan - they aren't comfortable around adults and understandably so which Sunako is trying to avoid.

//Also another reason for this is to show how Komaru and Makoto both differ in what they experience during the tragedy, the 2 aren't going to behave or act the same, how they operate is different so how they investigate is going to differ.

//Also if worry about the ghost stuff, don't worry - I think when we get to the After Life Lore Bit; I'll be sure to write down about ghost and the nature of them. ^^

[anneapocalypse]

I feel similarly about the way Wuk Lamat approaches the regulator technology and the soul economy. She's clearly disturbed by it, as are the Scions, who make numerous comments about it and even more in idle dialogue. No one is actually okay with this, Wuk Lamat included.

When she says things like, "I understand the people of Alexandria did what they believed was best to save their people" (Gone and Not Forgotten), she's saying that in front of Alexandrians. In this case, specifically Geode, who in response to Alisaie's overt disapproval, has just said that she doesn't think it's so bad. And Geode is one of Cahciua's people! If even he finds the regulators not so bad, any ruler with half a brain hearing that is going to understand that the average Alexandrian will see this technology as completely mundane, and in the interest of diplomacy she will need to tread carefully with her disapproval.

Her idle dialogue upon initiating the next quest is:

Regulators give Zoraal Ja a frightful advantage, and that's just one of the devices he's gotten his hands on... If we're to have a chance at defeating him, we have to learn all we can about the technology he has at his disposal. (Embracing Oblivion)

Her motives here are pretty unambiguous. She needs to understand her enemy. The regulator technology is a critical advantage possessed by her enemy. At the moment, she is being allowed to move freely in enemy territory and ask questions about their technology. She gains nothing by casting that trust aside with open hostility before she's had a chance to learn what she needs to.

So naturally, when she's finally given the grand tour by Sphene herself... even here, Wuk Lamat doesn't fully hide her distaste, but she softpedals it:

To be honest, it sounds disturbing. Still, I won't dismiss it out of hand. Practices like these don't arise from nothing. There's a reason why your culture is the way it is, and I'd like to understand. Won't you tell us some of your realm's history?

And Sphene does, offering a wealth of information on the history of their technology and the resources behind it.

Once again, if you look at what she actually does, and what it gains her vs. what the alternative would have been, Wuk Lamat is a smart ruler.

Furthermore nothing in the narrative itself really softpedals the regulator technology. Immediately following the above conversation we are treated to a pointed display of economic inequality and how that intersects with the soul economy. Pretty much all the Scions present--characters we've had a long time to grow attached to and relate to--voice their disapproval and they are not subtle about it. The story requires us to shut down Living Memory, already a fair departure from the game's usual MO of maintaining status quo for gameplay reasons. And the Arcadion raid series thus far seems to strongly hint that we'll be playing a role in the end of the soul economy.

I mean, none of us know what's going to happen in the patches, so maybe I'll be proven wrong, and the regulators will stay, nothing will change in Everkeep, and Wuk Lamat will say, "This is fine actually." But nothing that's happened so far in the main story suggests that to me, and it's demonstrably not what Wuk Lamat thinks presently.

I'll be interested to see what further developments happen in the patches with Alexandria, but so far I think Wuk Lamat is handling the situation very delicately, and very smartly.

Alexandria is, undeniably, an invading force in Xak Tural. It's a foreign nation that has moved onto Turali land and claimed that land and its people under its own sovereignty, with the intent to harvest a resource from it at the direct expense of its people. This is, obviously, wrong, and needs an answer.

Wuk Lamat as the Vow of Resolve has, with the help of her allies, already achieved something pretty significant and challenging here: she has defeated the invading government (Sphene and Zoraal Ja) without directly declaring war on Alexandria's people (most of whom probably had little to no say in the invasion). Her diplomacy during her initial introduction to Alexandria has probably gone a long way here; she has not given the people any more reason than absolutely necessary to believe she is a threat to them.

Declaring the very young Gulool Ja Alexandria's new king feels undeniably weird in more ways than one, but I think that politically it's probably the smartest thing Wuk Lamat could have done.

Her goal, as it's always been, is to maintain peace for her people. A good number of her people are now directly entangled with Alexandria. A rebellion against Tuliyollal rule by the Alexandrians is a direct threat to her people, particularly the ones living in Heritage Found. Even with Sphene gone, Alexandria is still possessed of substantial military power and weapons technology that could conceivably be commandeered either by existing military personnel (because even an army of robots requires some level of manpower to maintain) or by a civilian militia were one to arise. Bottom line: even with the head cut off, Alexandria still poses a threat to the safety and sovereignty of Tuliyollal. And even if the Dawnservants could be reasonably certain their own forces could overpower the Alexandrians--which they conceivably could based on sheer numbers--there would still be a bunch of their own people caught in the crossfire.

Furthermore, the defeat of Sphene and the shutting down of Living Memory means that the end of regulators and spare souls is coming. (The new raid series suggests too that the Warrior of Light may have a hand in ending the use of souls.) This is going to be highly disruptive to the Alexandrian way of life, and probably really fucking scary to a people who have become reliant on this technology. There are bound to be objections. While it's unclear to me at this time how many people knew what Sphene was actually doing, it's not inconceivable that more could find out, and that someone might seek to put her plans in motion once again in order to preserve the soul economy.

This is, in short, a pretty precarious situation politically, and a lesser Dawnservant would already be looking at a city teetering on the edge of revolt.

So, how do we convince the Alexandrians we aren't a threat to them in the short term, while we figure out how we're going to handle this in the long term?

Well, a good first step is probably to give them their king. Alexandria is, at least in name, a monarchy. By the rules of that system, Gulool Ja is a rightful heir to the throne. By allowing him to claim that birthright, you make a show of respecting Alexandrian "sovereignty." You also declare him family--he's your nephew, after all. Now you have a familial connection, the stuff of which royal alliances are made. And of course, the new king is just a child. He's going to need advisors, a regent, and a lot of guidance. You can have a hand in that.

Sure, the Alexandrians are going to notice your influence over their ruler and might still have feelings about that. It's not a perfect solution. But by the same token, snatching their one living heir away from them and openly declaring them under your rule now is probably going to go over a lot worse.

Like I think the game kind of downplays this being a calculated choice, especially since Wuk Lamat doesn't come across as a calculating person. But if we were to observe this scenario in any other fantasy setting... that's how you install a puppet king. I don't especially like to use that term in this case, because I think Wuk Lamat genuinely cares about her nephew and isn't simply using him to maintain power. Nonetheless, it is an undeniably political move, and one that benefits Tuliyollal.

It's likely the Alexandrian people are here to stay--thanks to the dimensional compression, they're in the unique situation where the land they live on is both theirs and not theirs, and that is a problem, but forced relocation also isn't a great solution.

Judging by Wuk Lamat's goals, ethos and the example of her father, I think her hope is probably to bring Alexandria under the banner of Tuliyollal without having to shed blood for it, not least the blood of her own people who would be caught in the crossfire. She understands now that sometimes there's no more room for diplomacy and you have to fight your enemies head on, but if there's a chance she can do this peacefully, through diplomacy, then she's going to try, because that's who she is. She also probably understands that most Alexandrians had no choice in this, and a show of good faith might go a long way toward earning their trust as they adapt to the loss of their queen and the changes that will inevitably follow.

It's a bad situation without a doubt, and one that's already been very destructive to the people of Xak Tural. Gulool Ja Ja sought to unite rather than to conquer. I think Wuk Lamat's hope is to do the same, for the practical purpose of limiting further damage as much as possible.

[360iris]

someone’s ACOTAR hot take was that Feyre’s title as High Lady was only given to her like one would give a turned off game controller to a toddler so that they feel included, as though they’re doing something when it ultimately serves as a illusion to keep her complacent and generally happy—

one of their examples being how the healer decided to tell Rhysand over Feyre when disclosing the information about the fact that her pregnancy was going to kill her if she tried to give birth in her High Fae body

If her bodily autonomy was truly respected. If her choices always mattered… and if she was truly respected as High Lady, she would’ve gotten that information immediately, which she was wholly and non-negotiably entitled to.

Seeing as their bargain was going to take Rhys’ ass out too, he had ample time to, at the very least, prepare to die.

He had the time to settle his affairs between himself and others. He had a choice on how he’d go out.

And yet he robbed Feyre of that and fully intended to what? let her die unaware as to why her pregnancy magically became complicated and she was in searing pain?

But putting that dumpster fire of an arc aside…

I think Feyre’s inexperience and lack of proper preparation leading up to/and after she was given the title of High Lady of the Night Court is why she isn’t actually viewed as true equals in POWER/OVERALL AUTHORITY to Rhysand.

SJM fully keeps Feyre’s mind and plans purposefully underdeveloped.

When in actuality, what 19-22 year olds do any of us know that don’t have a literal list of 1,000,000 ways they’d better and change the world they live in?

So many of us would be visionaries, artists, and groundbreaking activists if we had even an ounce of the physical, magical and POLITICAL POWER that Feyre is given.

Hell… give me three months, all the power at Feyre’s disposal ALONG WITH the devoted magic tank that is Rhysand and I’d be ushering in a new world order within the next year and six months. LIKE COME ON.

You’re telling me that her grand ideas are:

1. rebuilding Velaris after the one singular attack,

2. rehoming civilians,

3. buying an art studio and giving free painting lessons to the survivors as therapy…

which are all fine but WE NEED TO BE REWRITING LAWS!? Actively! Even if Prythian is still at large, there’s plenty of work to be done within the Night Court.

And I know at it’s core, it’s just a faerie smut book but if SJM wants to really talk politics,

then I personally need Feyre to turn into Malcolm X and start commanding the fucking room.

Bitch, unite the people. Have your main character build better, genuine relations with the other Fae courts.

Get to work in Parliament, make that mfing quill and ink SING !!! lmao

She and Rhys said no more masks, and yet Keir and The Court of Nightmares are still allowed to be in power?

There are still women being trapped and used as pawns for their breeding potential.

The Hewn City is still a den of hedonism, debauchery and cruelty.

There are still children being abused the same way Mor was, and yet they’re still doing nothing about it ultimately. Like… free them !?? 😭🤚

Do something other than yapping and thinking about fucking for FIVE MINUTES !! ​

We’re five or six books in at this point and all these motherfuckers do is

1. fuck/

2. think about when they’re gonna fuck next/

3. be sad bc they can’t fuck/

and 4. fight amongst themselves

like…

[weirdsht]

kahalangdon . 1

a/n: barely started this and there's already another fic idea on my head. i'm so good at thinking of plots but lack the skills to actually write it. Anyways enjoy and lmk what you think!

Warnings: hints of abuse, trauma, and ptsd

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

If there's something missing in the warnings let me know so I can add it

Any form of interaction toward the post is appreciated <333

kahalangdon

(means dignity in deep tagalog)

Parental figure Cale Henituse, Parental Figure Alberu Crossman, Reincarnated child Reader

prev . next

masterlist

The cleanup after the battle with White Star and the Sealed God was going surprisingly well. Sure there were some difficult people that they had to deal with but it was fairly manageable with Cale and Alberu’s glib tongues. All that was left to do now was tidy up some of White Star's base that they haven’t gotten to yet.

A certain dragon half-blood must’ve gotten a whim of things as the Roan Kingdom’s crown prince is now directly talking to him.

“And what made you think that you have the basis to strike a deal with me?”

Honestly, Alberu was somewhat curious about what the half-blood had in mind but of course he wouldn’t give in immediately. The crown prince needs to think this through first as they cannot wholeheartedly trust this chimera given their history.

“You need information as to where some of the base and workplace that White Star has and I need a favor regarding one of those places”

“Hmmm, alright then speak. I’ll hear you out first before I decide on what to do.”

Alberu got comfortable on the chair as he started to listen to what the half-dragon could possibly want.

“In one of the places I can provide the location of, there’s another dragon there. I don’t really know how old that thing is but I do know she’s younger than the kid here. My request is pretty simple, get that thing out of there then dispose of it or something, I don’t care.”

If Alberu was surprised he did a good job not showing it on his face. The quarter dark elf knew that White Star has some prejudice towards dragons but Alberu never expected for him to keep one.

‘He didn’t kill it or feed it to the fake dragon slayer or this half-blood here?’

For a moment he contemplated asking that to the pile of bones in front of him but rejected it. Seeing as he was taking his time to ponder about the request the half-blood spoke again.

"I know I'm not trustworthy and you might think it's a trap but there's really a dragon younger than that kid there."

"and you're telling me this and not Cale because?"

"I don't want to see that nuisance of a kid and I'll surely see her sooner if I tell him. Do what you want with that soon-to-be chimera just keep it out of my sight"

Even the crown prince is starting to think that this half-blood is weird. It’s so obvious he cared about the young dragon in captivity but is so in denial. To be honest, the attitude made Alberu want to curse him but at the same time he understood why the chimera was acting this way.

‘Probably from what he went through under White Star’

He got bits and pieces of the story from Cale, but not the whole story. Well it doesn’t matter anyways as the guy’s sob story wasn’t that important to him or his plans.

“Elaborate on what you mean by soon-to-be chimera first then I’ll give you my answer.”

The half-blood’s explanation did the trick, Alberu agreed to ‘get the dragon out of his sight’ and he’ll compensate by providing coordinates of the other bases. After finishing that conversation the quarter dark elf promptly went to talk to Cale Henituse and the golden dragon Eruhaben.

“So that’s why you need Eruhaben-nim to go with you?”

“Yes I need someone that can confirm the child’s race as the half-blood said it doesn’t seem to be aware of what she is.”

“Just what did the White Star do for a dragon to not know that she’s a dragon…”

“Another dragon, and it’s younger than me! I wanna go! Goldie-gramps sucks at socializing so he might scare the poor baby!”

Cale and Eruhaben who were quietly thinking things through, with the latter silently setting, froze at hearing what the young dragon said. Raon may be a dragon but for everyone in the room he was a kid first. That’s why they aren’t sure how to answer as they weren’t sure if he can take it. If the half-blood’s words were true then Raon might have a hard time because he also has trauma about being imprisoned and tortured.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

The chess motif isn't as important in where James is places as what happens on it. The white pieces falling away into dust are supposed to be James so desperate to beat Salem that he sacrifices anything and everything to do it.

Except that's not the James Miles and Kerry wrote, it's the excuse they used to beat him with the bastard stick. The whole "fallen hero" angle is a veneer. Miles admitted that they'd been planning to kill him off since they first penned him, and they very clearly did not care that the interim material made a villainous Ironwood inexplicable.

I suppose you could argue that's the imagery CRWBY was trying to present but for me at least, if you put chess imagery where the characters are being placed on the board is just as, if not more, important as what happens to the board. Each piece has a very critical and well established role to play in the game. When people talk about a character who is easily manipulated and disposable they are referred to as pawns for example. So when two prominent characters in the show are thrown onto a chess board into the Queen slot, I am going to wonder why that decision was made. And for me at least the other pieces crumbling conveyed the imagery more of "Everyone else is crumbling under Salem with James being the last one standing against her" you know? I started to dive into this on the original post but I realized I was getting waaaayyyyy off topic so I cut that out. But your reading makes sense for what CRWbY wanted to convey but and having James not be in the king position would help sell the idea of him throwing away even the most important player to win the game imagery but they just narratively do not sell that very well.

As you said, the arc of James turning into a fallen Hero was not played out very well at all, nor the idea that he carelessly throws people away and at the war with no care for their lives. This is the man after all who created the Atlesian Knights with the goal of removing people off of the battlefield to keep deaths as low as possible. This is the man who yes made sacrifices but the narrative once again did a very poor job of selling the idea that James was wrong for making the sacrifices he did. Yes he focused on Amity tower over fixing the wall, but he thought it was critical that they restore global communication so that they could rally the people for a war against Salem who was suddenly upping the stakes and making her moves. He might have done things differently had he known Salem was immortal but that information was intentionally kept from him so he was operating under what information he had. Same with trying to flee by raising Atlas up. He really had no plan to deal with a war against Salem with an exhausted army and not even a semblance of a clue on how they where supposed to defeat Salem, especially given that we know very little about how much Oscar even told him about Salem's immortality.

We're supposed to see James as an evil and immoral monster for wanting to flee, conveniently ignoring the very real fact that Salem getting her hands on two of the relics in Atlas means she has access to three of the four items needed to end the world. Saving Mantel is meaningless if Salem destroys the whole world and the narrative doesn't do much to prove him wrong. Atlas falls and Mantel and Atlas are both destroyed. A laughably small number of people are seen escaping Atlas and Mantel implying a ton of people died, and Salem walks away with the two relics that Atlas had which only shows....James and his plan was right. The mains screwed up but the show will never admit that.

[monocytogenes]

Let Yourself Breathe

This is something of a gift for @nirikeehan that I’ve been picking at between chapters of All the Times We’ve Said Goodbye. Pravin/Lana isn’t the main ship there, but I did romance her ingame, so. :)

I never was super into the whole Revan arc plot (spoilers below) apart from the class story-specific stuff, but Lana and Theron’s dynamics were so good. Pravin and Theron’s relationship was a constant dick-measuring contest (it’s always kind of funny for me to see how much agent/Theron content is out there because Pravin was like ‘FUCK the ENTIRE SIS I do not trust ANY of you PRICKS’) and he generally agreed with (and flirted with) Lana...with a few really interesting exceptions.

This is the aftermath of Lana purposefully getting Theron captured, which Pravin is not happy about on principle, and them talking it over/bonding afterwards.

—

As the door slid open, Pravin was greeted by an animated scene—Lana and Theron both on their feet, shouting at each other.

Lana’s features were tensed in stern frustration, back ramrod-straight and arms crossed. Theron was gesticulating in open-palmed fury, jaw tight, posture hunched and one leg forward as though rearing to dash at her.

“—like I’m disposable, because that’s just how Sith Intelligence operates, huh—?!”

“I knew you’d come though alright, and really, you should taking that as a compliment—”

Pravin cleared his throat loudly. Lana’s head swiveled; Theron’s eyes flickered towards him.

“What’d I miss?” Pravin asked flatly.

“Did you know Lana set me up?” Theron snapped.

“As I said, I read their intentions and made a tactical decision to ensure that we—”

Pravin interrupted. “Wait, what?”

“She sensed them coming and had me go in anyway so I’d get captured!”

“It was a perfectly good opportunity to get you past their defenses and into their systems—”

“Yeah, sure, right after they tortured me—”

“You got him captured?” Pravin regarded her in disbelief.

“Because I knew he’d free himself in short order and extract valuable intel,” retorted Lana.

“After having to plan on the fly because all my gear was confiscated and, oh, did I mention the torture—?”

“It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” Lana insisted.

“I kind of prefer to have a heads up when my supposed ally’s going to send me into a life-or-death situation!” hissed Theron.

“Like you would’ve agreed if I—”

“Beniko,” Pravin turned on her incredulously. “Are you mad?”

“We needed him in there,” she maintained, looking affronted. “And had I posited the option to him he wouldn’t have gone for it.”

“Then we would’ve found another way.” Pravin shook his head. “That was totally out of line.”

“It accomplished what it was meant to accomplish—”

“And what if it hadn’t? What if he’d got killed because you’d given him no chance to prepare?”

“Then that would’ve been a severe miscalculation, but clearly—”

“Lana.” He spat the name, guttural and hard-edged, and she fell silent, glowering at him. “You don’t deceive your own. Ever.”

“He’s not my agent,” she muttered.

“Oh, whoop, there it is,” Theron declared. “Fuck that Republic scum, right?”

Pravin eyed him in annoyance. “Shan, shut up.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side on this,” Lana said to Pravin.

“Can’t you?” Pravin scoffed, his voice rising. “So what if he’s not ‘your agent?’ So what if he’s done daft, reckless things before—you thought I’d be all peachy with this? Do I have to spell out for you why I’ve got a problem with a Sith keeping critical information from a field operative?”

“This is different,” she insisted.

“No no, it’s not, because this, like that, is about respect. If you can’t respect his expertise, if he can’t trust that you’ll be frank with him, then I don’t care how brilliant a tactician you think you are—you’re a liability. You are hindering this operation. And you need to get your damned priorities sorted before you wind up with no help at all.”

Lana gave a wordless huff.

“You owe him an apology,” demanded Pravin.

“I’m not going to apologize for being right,” said Lana, sweeping from the room in a miffed whirl of robes.

Pravin sighed, massaging his forehead.

“Well,” remarked Theron, stepping up to stand beside him. “Uh. Thanks for having my back.”

“She knows she’s full of it,” said Pravin, gaze lingering on the doorway. “She’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Yeah, I was getting that impression.” Theron hesitated. “So, what was that about a Sith keeping intel from—”

“Mind your own bloody business.”

“Alright, alright,” said Theron, holding his hands up in surrender. “Forget I said anything.”

*

After a good half-hour, Pravin tracked Lana down to a nearby cafe, where she’d claimed a table beneath a shady awning in the dying twilight. He settled in across from her, watching her golden eyes flick briefly to his face before returning to the milling passerby, heavy-lidded and tired.

The chair creaked as he sat back, following the turn of her head, hands folded in his lap.

She took a measured sip of her caf.

“I am doing the best that I can under challenging circumstances,” she said, setting the mug down. “I hope you recognize that.”

“I do.”

“I keep thinking, if only I still had a team of analysts at hand. A whole cadre of associates I could trust, rather than just...”

“An enemy agent, a wanted criminal and a dead man?”

“Put that way, it almost sounds charming,” she mused. “A ragtag band of unlikely heroes.”

Pravin snorted. “That seems a bit presumptuous.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw a wan smile turn her lips. “Says the man who saved all those civilians.”

“You don’t need to kiss up to me,” he told her, smirking over his discomfort.

“Don’t I? ‘Before I wind up with no help at all.’”

He looked at her then, at the remorse that had settled into the curve of her mouth, the misty sadness in her eyes.

“I’m not the one you kriffed over,” he said quietly.

“I’ll say something to him later,” she promised. “Some manner of apology. I rather doubt that’ll mend things, though.”

“If you approach him in honesty I think it’ll be a good first step.”

“I can’t be too honest. He is SIS.”

“I don’t know. A bit of heart may make him less inclined to be a cock to your personnel in the future.”

“That seems an optimistic take for you.”

“Don’t you dare call me an optimist; you’ll make me break out in a rash,” Pravin grumbled.

Lana chuckled. “Well, you are likely correct. I don’t have your instinct for this sort of thing.”

“You have the Force; I’m certain your intuition’s better than you think. You just have to...” He gestured as he chose his words, a pensive sweep of his hand. “...stop treating this all as a test. Some trial where you’ve got to work with perfect logical detachment because everyone’s watching and waiting for you to stumble. Shan’s competent, I’m hopefully more than competent, Jakarro’s useful enough—not an ideal crack team, sure, but you’ve got support. Utilize those relationships and, for stars’ sake, let yourself breathe.”

Lana gave a shaky nod, staring into her caf. “...I…I’m simply all too aware that if we’re unsuccessful here then not only will the political consequences be severe, but my own place in the Empire—”

“Yes, I know.” A twinge of muddled feelings tightened his throat; he swallowed to clear it. “But shutting out the rest of us is not going to help you control the outcome. If anything, it’s going to worsen your odds.”

She proffered a palm over the tabletop, still not looking at him. He hesitated, then slipped his hand into hers. Her grip was bony, skin calloused near the base of her fingers from the hilt of her saber, slightly slick from the port city’s intransigent humidity.

“I’ll meditate on that advice,” she said after a silence. “I do appreciate that you and I can talk this way. Can you imagine Theron and I having this conversation?”

“Like a slow-moving speeder wreck.” He lifted his chin, imitating Theron’s accent. “’See, Lana, your problem is that you don’t care about people and think you’re superior. Have you tried not being such a bitch?’”

Lana cracked up, bringing her other hand to her mouth. “Stars, you sound just like him.”

“I have been stuck listening to him for several weeks,” Pravin murmured. “For the record, I still find him right obnoxious.”

“He’s grown on me, admittedly. Sometimes when we’re getting along, I feel as though in a different world I could’ve called him a friend.”

“Now don’t tell him that; he’ll think you’re talking out your arse.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” She shifted her grasp, stroking her thumb across his knuckles in the process. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go on.”

“Do you find him handsome?”

Pravin gave a dismissive tsk. “Not with that personality.”

Her smile turned mirthful. “I thought I’d noticed a flutter of something the few times he’s grinned at you or—”

“Alright, let me clarify.” Pravin withdrew his hand, motioning in exasperation. “If I met him in a cantina on Narsh or something and didn’t know about his allegiances or propensity to be a nosy little shite, then yes, solid eight out of ten. But as it stands? More like a three, with fleeting exceptions if he’s being abnormally charming.”

“He can have that air about him now and again,” Lana agreed. “Reminds me of you on occasion.”

Pravin made a face, catching another laugh from her, then regarded her slyly. “So I’m charming, then.”

“Of course. Wasn’t that a required competency in your training?” she quipped.

“By that same token you ought to be immune to my wiles.”

She tipped her head back, draining the dregs of her caf as though it was liquor. “Maybe I don’t want to be.”

Pravin studied the lingering curve of her lips in tempered interest, letting a comfortable silence pass between them before he spoke again.

“For what it’s worth—” He pointed at her. “—Ten out of ten.”

“You’re lying,” she insisted, blushing.

“No I’m not.”

“I’d have thought that my being Sith would’ve knocked a few points off.”

“You are the most reasonable Sith I’ve had the pleasure to meet,” he informed her. “By a long shot.”

“The competition isn’t exactly fierce on that front, is it.”

“Given that the comparable parties include ‘literal terrorist’, ‘psychosis case study’ and ‘bloke I walked in on whilst he was choking out my colleague’, the bar is so low it’s practically underground.” He sniffed at his own joke, then eyed her more plainly, softening his tone. “But to be more specific, it’s like—”

He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “There’s so many of your kind who walk around believing that being able to snap a neck with the Force demands that people like me worship at your feet. To which I say: so what? One can accomplish the same end with a blade or a blaster, poison or a well-timed shove off a ledge. I’m not impressed by that. But you—you’ve never asked me to be. You sought my help not to enrich yourself, not as some sort of petty power-play, but because you actually cared about righting wrongs. And as much as I’m loath to admit it, somewhere deep down in my cynical, seditious heart, I rather admire that.”

Lana stared at him for a long moment, fighting a grin.

Shifting her mug aside, she rose slightly, leaning over the table and pulling Pravin in by the arm. He laughed a surprised what before she kissed him, her touch more tender than hungry, breathing a sigh against his lips as she withdrew.

“...You’re welcome,” he said in reply, a bit off-kilter.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for some time,” she confessed. “What you said, it—it means a lot, coming from you.”

“Exactly how long have you dreamt of kissing me?”

“Oh, please.” She rested her face in her hand. “I don’t know. Since we embraced, probably.”

Pravin snickered, ignoring the way his own cheeks had darkened. “You mean when you seized hold of me in a moment of unbridled grief and I sort of stood there in confusion?”

“My recollection is somewhat different.” She smirked. “I seem to remember you patting my back.”

“Ah. Perhaps I’m not giving myself enough credit.” Slyly, he added, “Perhaps we could give that another go under less strenuous circumstances.”

“And try not to be quite so harried about it?”

“I’d say ‘stuffy,’ but that too.”

“That may require some effort. We are both Imperials, as our associate is so fond of reminding us.”

“No matter how many times I endeavor to correct him,” Pravin muttered. “Former Imperial, you Coruscanti twit.”

“It’s all the same to him, I fear.” She shook her head. “But I agree, we should. I should be getting back to work now, but sometime—”

“How about we walk back together?” Pravin offered his hand.

Her gaze was warm, as soft as her lurid eyes could allow. “Yes, let’s.”

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (2)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: MENTIONS OF SMUT FOR THIS CHAPTER. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, mentions of illnesses, momentary fluff, bit of angst care of Bucky, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, rejection, bullying, heartbreak, character death

A/N: I couldn’t resist not posting this early. Here you go. Next ones will probably take a while coz I have to be an actual adult for a bit. 

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

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1:2 Dark Chocolate

A few days of rest was required to recover from a super soldier's punch. The doctors had said that you were lucky Steve hadn't punched you with full strength or else you would probably have a whole cracked rib cage. You were anxious to jump back in to training, not used to being idle for very long.

You were given some painkillers at the clinic and ordered to stay there for the rest of the afternoon for monitoring. When you woke up, it was early evening and a blonde super soldier was napping on a steel chair next to your bed. He jumped when you moved to sit up, his heightened senses alarmed and disoriented for a second before he quickly switched to repeatedly apologizing to you. You laughed out loud. It was just a little ridiculous to you to see such a commanding presence in the field so charmingly boyish and adorably embarrassed.

Steve was a comforting presence but to be honest you were hoping to see Bucky. You didn't get a chance to thank him since he left immediately after the doctors had ushered you into the examination room. Once you were cleared to return to training, you caught sight of his long brunette hair and the bright smile on your face couldn't be stopped. It was the glare he pinned you with that made you halt your approach.

He was back to his disapproval of your very existence.

You had to admit that it stung. You thought that you were getting somewhere with him after he helped you. At least somewhere outside of the realm of outward disdain. And maybe you were hoping just a little bit that it could lead down the road to him feeling the same about you.

The timing was perfect when you were assigned to your first official mission with the Avengers. It was a chance to prove your worth to the team and to Bucky in particular. A chance to maybe make him see you as more than just a troublesome recruit.

You came back from the mission with your head held high and absolutely glowing with confidence at the kudos from Sam and Natasha. The great Natasha Romanoff had complimented your sniping skills, picking off enemies in her area even before she could aim her own gun at them.

The first thing you wanted to do after getting back to the Compound was to tell Bucky. You wanted to brag a little bit and maybe even thank him for the mentoring. If he hadn’t been so hard on you then you wouldn’t have pushed yourself to be at this level. You were skipping down the halls of the Compound in search for him, clutching the bullet casing from your first official Avenger kill.

FRIDAY had informed you that he was in the training area and you were bouncing on your feet with excitement. As you entered though the place was empty, the rest of the agents having retired to the mess halls. You ventured further in, trusting FRIDAY’s intel until you heard some noises coming from the adjacent armory. You smiled, he must be cleaning his guns again.

As you got closer, the noise began to get louder until you could make out what was undeniably pleasured moaning, one low and gravelly while the other more high pitched. You should have turned away, if only for the privacy of the couple who was wrapped up in their passion, but your curiosity pushed you to come closer and peak through the small crack in the door.

The brief image that you saw made you instantly draw back, a shaking hand pressed to your mouth to silence the shocked gasp. You backed away slowly, your mind struggling to process what you had just seen, then your flight response kicked in and you ran like hell out of there. The scene was burning a hole in your brain and caused your skin to grow cold. Sergeant Barnes rutting hard against a woman wrapped around his waist, his glinting eyes locked with yours, and a cocky sneer on his face.

You didn’t go to dinner that night or to the team celebration for a successful first mission. You chose instead to lay in your bunk with tears burning in your eyes and trying to erase the memory of your discovery. Of course he was already dating someone. A man of his caliber was sure to have a line-up of gorgeous eager women at his disposal. He probably had no interest in boring recruits like yourself. The woman he was throwing into bliss must be some supermodel or high ranking spy. How did you even end up deluding yourself that you could possibly catch his eye?

The rest of your roommates filtered in after a few hours, chatting away noisily about the party. Anna had come to sit on the edge of your bed and ran a comforting hand along your arm, concern clearly etched on her face.

“I’m fine. Just tired. The mission really wore me out,” you muttered with a small smile. You weren't ready to talk about it yet.

“Personally I think I had better success today than all of you,” Kim’s shrill voice cut through the good natured conversations in the room.

She wasn’t part of the group taken on the mission, claiming beforehand that she was ill. A chorus of curious why’s rang out through the group and she preened at once again being the center of attention.

“Well I just had the fuck of a lifetime from none other than Sergeant James Barnes.”

The room of women burst into chaos; squeals of disbelief, rapid fire questions on how big he was and how good of a lay was he, were they dating now or was this a fuck buddy situation. Of course Kim was more than happy to entertain each question.

You tuned all of it out, the noise turning into an annoying ringing in your ear. You turned around to face the wall as the silent tears that refused to be contained any longer fell to wet your pillow. You barely registered Anna squeezing your shoulder or the words that Kim threw your way.

“Sorry, Y/N. I guess I was just more Bucky’s type.”

You curled yourself into a tighter ball as the pain in your chest radiated across your whole body. You had assumed wrong about Bucky. It seemed that he wasn’t opposed to dating new recruits.

He was just opposed to you.

The taunting from Kim continued on and you just couldn't take it any longer. You brushed the tears away, grabbed your sweater, and marched yourself to the door. You needed to get some air. You needed to get away. Anywhere but there. You wrenched open the door and almost came crashing straight toward a solid chest. Your eyes travelled up to lock with the kind blue gaze of Captain America. You wondered why Steve was standing at the doors of your bunkers holding a pack of beer in his hand.

"Good evening, ladies," he said to the room of now suddenly speechless females. "I'm just going to borrow Y/N for a bit."

The crowd remained in shocked silence while you stared at him in confusion as he smiled sweetly down at you. He had gone looking for you when he didn't see you at the celebration after Natasha and Sam had sang your praises to him at your performance. He wanted to congratulate you and bring you a drink for a job well done.

"Come on. I know a good spot," he said, placing a hand on your back and guiding you out.

Steve brought you to the top of an observatory in the Compound. It was quiet, peaceful, and offered a great view. He cracked open a bottle for you and the conversation just flowed naturally. He kept making you laugh until your sides hurt with stories about his time as a performer in the military and all the unfortunate videos that came with it. You were crying with pure joy when he relented and re-enacted his buy military bonds act, your earlier darkened mood forgotten for the moment.

Steve felt like he did something right when your glassy eyes and defeated expression was replaced with clear amusement. Even if it was at his expense. He wouldn't ask what the reason was, but he felt happy he made you feel better.

"Thank you, Steve," you muttered before you parted ways. Somehow both of you understood that it was more than just for the drink.

You promised yourself then that you would give yourself tonight to weep over your unfortunate romantic feelings. Only for tonight. Come morning you would focus all your energy on what you actually came here to do; become an Avenger. You slept fitfully that night, the shell casing from your first mission still gripped in your hand.

You made a conscious effort after that day to limit your interactions with Bucky and Kim to polite clipped conversations. At first Bucky had been surprised at your change in attitude, your blank expression and sparse words causing a momentary guilt to flash in his eyes. You had chosen instead to spend more time with Steve and the twins, your mood obviously brighter around them.

You were sitting now in a large conference room for a briefing on the next mission with a handful of other recruits when Sam Wilson sent you out to fetch the rest of the Avengers who were running late and not responding.

"Can you get them for me, sweetheart?" he chuckled, knowing that you blushed uncontrollably each time he used a nickname on you.

FRIDAY had directed you to the private common room exclusive for their use. You were about to knock on the door when you heard your name in the middle of what sounded like a heated argument. Against your better judgement, you leaned in closer.

"I don't think Y/N's cut out to be part of this team."

Your heart dropped. The conviction in Bucky's voice was clear. It was one thing for your infatuation with him to be forcefully thrown back at your face, but for him to explicitly state to a set of people that you held at such high esteem that you were not good enough was a whole other vicious heartbreak.

Lily was wrong. This time you should have known when to quit.

You forced yourself to crack the door wider and step inside, clearing your throat to announce your presence. You didn't see the startled look on their faces or the guilty one that followed when they realized that you had heard. One look at your sad glistening eyes that refused to look up confirmed it. Natasha and Steve both threw Bucky a deadly glare.

"Sam wants you all at a briefing. I was sent to come get you."

Your voice was so small and unsteady, none of the easy happiness and optimistic determination that it usually carried. Bucky felt the shame burn through him, the guilt drowning him in an instant. You weren't supposed to hear that. He took a step towards you, instinct driving him to do anything to wipe that defeated look off your face, but a threatening look from the twins pinned him in place.

"We'll walk back with you, little star," Pietro said softly, appearing beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Wanda came on the other side, looping your arm with hers.

For the rest of the briefing, you strained with the effort of focusing on Sam while blatantly ignoring Bucky. You knew he was staring a hole at the back of your head, but you couldn't allow yourself to give him any satisfaction by looking back. You were soon assigned your tasks, you being placed on sniper duty again having performed well the last time.

It was supposed to be a run of the mill mission for intel and taking out a criminal base, but with the expectation of more hostiles so a slightly bigger team was necessary. You practically flew out of the room when you were dismissed, not giving anyone a chance to talk to you. A decision was solid in your mind now for when you got back.

This would be your last mission.

The ride on the jet to the location was spent with you cleaning your gear and checking your weapons. You were sliding a few knives in place when Bucky came in front of you holding out another set of knives for you to take.

"You know if you tilt the hilt to the left you can fit more in one holster," he said.

It was odd hearing him with almost warmth in his tone toward you. If it had happened yesterday, you probably would be celebrating this fact. You nodded at him, but didn't say a word.

"Remember to keep your head low and stay on your post. Okay, doll?"

You nodded wordlessly again. Because you made a point not to look at his face, you missed the way he was struggling to say more to you and the disheartened look when you obviously weren't going to answer him. You ignored him for the rest of the ride, choosing to focus on reviewing the intel.

As far as bad intel could go, this had to be the worst. You were perched up on a densely covered hill a good distance away from the base that the rest of the team were storming. You were picking off as many hostiles coming out of the base as quick as your hands would allow. Your fingers were starting to ache from the constant reloading, your eyes stung from the gunpowder, and your lip was already bleeding from biting down on it.

The noise in the comms was pure mayhem. Each team member trying to ask for help, for backup, for a plan. You had all come expecting a fight but not an army prepared to defend. You were certainly not expecting HYDRA.

"They have Bucky."

Three words spoken that sent a cold dread to wash over all of you. HYDRA couldn't be allowed to take Bucky. You abandoned your post without a second thought and sprinted down toward the base, pistols at the ready for anyone coming your way.

"Last location," you asked urgently as you slipped into the building shooting down two agents immediately.

"West wing. Near the last corridor," Steve grunted, clearly having a hard time on his end. "Y/N, do not engage!"

"I'm the closest one, Cap."

"I'm close too. Just a little busy," Natasha huffed. "I'll follow, Y/N. Steve, we need to get the hell out of here."

Steve had reluctantly agreed, seeing that there was no other choice. He quickly barked orders and commanded you to keep safe. You nodded although he couldn't see it as you wove through the corridors at full speed in search of your teammate. The moment you barged into that last room, your eyes found an unconscious Bucky immediately.

Seeing him in that chair horrified you; shirt ripped, bleeding in several areas, skin pale and cold with sweat, chest rising and falling far too rapidly, and eyes that were unresponsive. You were so distracted by the jarring image that you failed to notice the operatives across the room until the bullets were burning through your soft flesh.

You screamed from the pain, but raised your gun and fired back until you heard their bodies thud heavily on the floor. You clutched at your side, the amount of wet blood pouring out was alarming. You pushed your own welfare aside and hurriedly undid Bucky's restraints. It was a struggle to sit up a semi-conscious super soldier and when you took his weight on your shoulders, you collapsed to the floor at the intense pain in your arm. You hadn't realized that you had multiple shots there too.

You gritted your teeth and groaned at the effort of lifting you both up, your blood soaking through your gear as well as Bucky's. You huffed painfully with each step but you just had to get him out of there. You could have kissed Natasha square in the mouth when you saw her come barreling towards you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N!" she winced at your state before taking Bucky's other side. Apparently you looked as bad as you felt. "We gotta move fast. I hear more of them coming up this way. This path is clear."

Having Natasha's help in carrying Bucky alleviated some of the burden from you and made you all move faster, but the blood loss was already starting to make your vision blurry and the adrenaline was wearing off. Through the haze, you could also hear the rapidly approaching footsteps. Soon you would be basically useless and you knew there was no way Natasha could carry you both out while fighting off a hoard of enemies.

"Natasha," you said quietly, your steps faltering.

"No. Keep going goddamn it!" Natasha cried.

She knew what you were thinking. She had assessed the situation too and come to the same miserable conclusion. You smiled sadly at her angry eyes and shaking head as you let go of your hold on Bucky. Her eyes widened further as you limped toward the doors behind you and locked them tight before raising your guns to aim right at anyone who would come through them.

She didn't miss how your hands were shaking and your shot arm could barely hold up, the way you scowled deeper in pain with each movement, or how your uniform was soaked in your own blood and slowly forming a pool at your feet. Ghastly as you looked, you turned your head and tossed her another gentle smile. You were basically going to use yourself as a human shield for them and yet you were comforting her. You were reassuring her.

"Check on my sister for me, yeah?"

Natasha wanted to insist on another plan. Anything other than leave you behind to hold off the nearing enemy units. Shouting and gunfire from the other side of the door forced her to make a decision. She cursed sharply under her breath and dragged Bucky away with her, the regret heavy on her heart for having to leave you behind.

You stepped further back and supported your weak body against the wall after Natasha had thankfully left. The enemy was trying their hardest to barge through the door, ramming into it and shooting their guns at the locks. It wouldn't be long now before they manage to breach it.

You took a moment to spare a thought for your sister. A part of you was saddened to think of her grief after she finds out that you had done the most heroic thing anyone could ever do.

Sacrifice.

Another part of you was relieved knowing that she had Jill and she wouldn't be alone in that grief. When you decided this morning that this would be your last mission, you didn't necessarily expect it to be in this way.

"I'm sorry, Lily."

Natasha managed to get Bucky back to the jet where the rest of the team were all converging, still fighting off operatives chasing after them. There just didn't seem to be any end to them.

"I'm going back for Y/N!" she yelled to the team as she dropped Bucky on the floor of the jet. There was no time to be gentle, she had to hurry back to help you out.

"What do you mean? Where the hell is Y/N, Nat?" Steve shouted as he grabbed her arm.

"She stayed behind to hold off the ones chasing us so we could get out. I have to go back!"

"I will go. I can get her out," Pietro volunteered at once but he doubled over immediately from the extensive wounds on his torso.

Natasha was already sprinting back into the compound, not willing to waste another minute. She made it only a few feet before the entire facility exploded into a fiery inferno that quickly ravaged it and threw her farther back.

The entire team watched in horror as the explosions continued on several parts of the structure. The area was quickly getting engulfed by the flames and smoke. Steve had to force everyone onto the jet and bodily carry a shell shocked Natasha.

No one could have possibly survived that.

------------------------------

Natasha steadied her breath as she quietly landed on a perch high above in the rafters of a seedy warehouse. Wanda joined her seconds later, weaving her magic to better cloak them. The other twin was running a lap around the perimeter and would join them later.

She was assigned weird missions all the time. Missions that had very little to doubtful intel was common. This mission though was by far the strangest she's ever gotten. There was a very small list of vague things that were told to them; the time and location, not to intervene, to remain unseen until the target was ready, bring the target to the Compound.

She was slightly annoyed, but she complied anyway. She was curious too as the mission was given in secret to only the three of them. A million questions was speeding through her mind as she observed the activity below. It looked like a regular run of the mill drug den filled with busy workers and roving guards.

"How many, Wanda?" Natasha whispered.

"I sense more than 25 of them. All armed, but with much fear."

A gust of wind signaled the return of the other twin. He had a frown on his face and a concerned look in his eyes. "There is another one, but this one does not seem to be with them."

Natasha was starting to sincerely doubt this mission when a fast movement from the shadows caught her eye. By the way the twins perked up too, they surely had seen it. They followed the figure as it slipped through the darkness, almost losing track if they hadn't noticed that the guards were quickly dwindling in number. Natasha was growing worried, this was surely a highly skilled group of assassins. Pietro must have been mistaken. They were clean and efficient too.

All of a sudden a gunfight broke out below them. A figure completely clad in black, strolled casually out from the shadows with a pistol in each hand firing precisely at their targets. They confidently charged closer, unfazed as they greeted the gunfire. They continued to tear viciously through the crowd with a deadly mix of combat, bullets, and blades. 

The workers had drawn their weapons by now as well, but they were quickly killed off with barbaric aggression. It did not take long for the floor below to become a sea of blood and lifeless bodies. One person remained barely alive, hanging on to his middle to keep his internal organs from spilling out from the wide gash. The attacker came to him, nonchalantly stepping over decimated bodies. They couldn't hear what was exchanged from this distance, only the choked scream that followed as he was stabbed straight through the throat. His blood spurting out like a broken faucet.

Natasha had been in this profession for a while, but she has never seen this level of unrestrained violence.

One person.

One single person had cleared out a base of approximately 30 people. Natasha was growing more and more worried. Clearly this person was at the very least an enhanced and even with the twins with her, they were not prepared to face someone powered.

What kind of bloodthirsty lunatic does this?

"You can come down now."

All three of them froze in place. Looking down, the attacker was staring right at them with cloaked eyes. Reluctantly and very slowly, Wanda used her powers to float them down carefully keeping a good distance from this murderer.

From this close they could now see that they were in full military tactical gear in what was originally all matte black, but now had an explosion of dripping red. Combat boots, fitted cargo pants, a long sleeved shirt underneath a tight bulletproof vest, gloves, a loose hood over their head, and a cloth mask around the lower half of their face.

"Should have known something was up when my team mentioned seeing a really fast man."

The shivers that travelled through every expanse of skin on Natasha, was a reaction to that voice. It sounded strangely familiar yet unknown, but something in her mind was denying her from piecing it together. The moment the hood was dropped to reveal their eyes was when she spiraled into a complete icy shock. They were eyes that had haunted her for the past ten years. Haunted all of them. The only difference was that the eyes in her memories were smiling warmly.

The bloodied face mask was lowered to reveal a face they mourned, unmistakable and yet completely different. White raised scars branched out like weaving vines from the right side of the neck to just above the jaw and the ears. They were obviously old and healed but still raised and prominent, adding an even more dangerous edge to the menacing look on their face.

Your face.

"Hello, Natasha. Pietro. Wanda."

10 years after they had watched you tragically perish in a burning HYDRA facility, you stood before three of a group of people you had unknowingly tormented all these years.

The earpiece you wore crackled to life. "Blackbird to Hedwig. I have a visual. Should I shoot them?"

You smirked. There was no need for that. At least not right now.

"Hey, Blackbird. Tell Raven I'll be late for dinner. I have a reunion to get to."

------------------------------

A/N: Tell me which pairing or combination in this harem you’re most looking forward to. Smut or otherwise. I’m still rearranging scenes and working out smut. There is a long list of kinks. I need help.

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[lostgreekgod]

delusion

a/n: hello aaaaa i had @theaudacitytowrite give me a prompt for a loki x reader fic solely because I do not find entertainment elsewhere! anyways

word count: 2776 (shit got longer, but what can I say I'm very feely when it comes to angst)

warnings: angst. angst angst angst. some crying. there was this one mention of blood, tendons & stuff ? but that's about it have fun crying

pairing: loki x f!reader

summary: you and Loki have been together for quite some time now. what happens when his insecure self realizes that you love him? and that he does too?

another a/n: I feel like this could use a part 2 i might come up with it next week because I've got a 7 day break from school yayy lmk if you'd like that nexie

4 years. It had been 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days since y/n had shed a tear. But on this fine autumn morning, as the yellow and brown leaves rustled in the gentle winds, as the smell of coffee, pumpkin, and spice wafted in the air, she let a tear fall- courtesy of her lover. No, scratch that. Her ex-lover.

\\ 3 hours earlier \\

Humming a tuneless song, an exhausted y/n walked back to her room in the Avenger’s tower. A whole day of training wouldn’t be smart when she had a crucial mission to lead just the next day, but she wanted the mission to pan out exactly right. This wasn’t her first mission, but the stats were so much more critical compared to the missions she had been sent on before. A new rival organization was springing up in SHIELD’s radar, and they seemed as high as ever in spirit, regardless of how the Avengers had managed to crush HYDRA not so long ago. Apparently, according to a message they had received a few moments before, the up-and-coming organization had 4 junior agents in captivity, and in exchange for those agents, they wanted intel. Fury’s plan was to provide a hard drive with incorrect information with an embedded virus, and have the agents rescued before the rival agents decrypted the file and realized SHIELD’s play. Two birds with one stone, as he had phrased. y/n was going to go in with Natasha and Loki. Nat, because she was as light as a cat on her feet, and Loki because he had his seidr for illusions, teleportation, et cetera. This wasn’t going to be her first mission with her 4-month boyfriend either, but she was excited to be fighting alongside him, nevertheless. As she washed up in the shower, she heard her room door open and close with a click. Finally. She thought with a smile. She could go to sleep in her beloved’s arms for the few hours she had left for rest and relaxation before they set out. Putting on her nightgown, she left the bath. She saw how Loki was cocooned on her bed, arms reaching out towards her, a little smile on his face. Unlike her, the god didn’t train much- but he still looked tired.

“Hello, my little lioness. Whom did you beat up today? You do realize it is wiser to rest before a mission.” He said in a loud, lazy whisper. All y/n could do was smile sweetly at him and snuggle under the covers. He knew how the lack of training made her insecure about her ability to be stealthy. Instead of letting Loki’s arms wrap around her like most of the other nights, she spooned his chest instead. Loki’s eyes widened at the sudden gesture, his body tensing up at the sudden disposal of love. He had only given love; he had never been on the receiving side of it. Wait, love? He didn’t love y/n. He didn’t. That swell he felt in his chest every time he saw her was simply the result of the great appreciation and respect he had for her. Nothing more. He couldn’t love her. After all, everyone he had ever loved ended up being taken away from him.

Chuckling lightly, he hoped y/n wouldn’t catch onto his nervousness. “What are you doing my dear?”

Inhaling his scent, y/n mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleeping. Go to sleep my love. We have to be up in less than 3 hours.”

My love? Yes, y/n had called him that multiple times, but he had never thought much of it. Why was he suddenly so wary of it? Did y/n truly love him? No, maybe she wasn’t thinking. She was already worn out and sleepy, maybe she blurted it out accidentally. No one could love him. No one.

y/n sensed that he still hadn’t relaxed. Cracking her eyes slightly open, she asked lightly, “Is everything okay, love?” Loki’s brows furrowed at her question. There it was again. Love. Loving him was impossible. To love him would be delusional. A move of delusional stupidity. Blatant ignorance.

Loki shifted away from her and sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his chest when he heard her whine in response. He met her eyes only to be asked another question. “Love, what’s the matter?”

His heart clenched against his chest, suddenly the room was too hot. He had to understand what was going on. He had to figure this out before it was too late.

“Love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n scanned his face, trying to understand the reason for his sudden withdrawal. She simply hummed in response.

Loki raised his eyebrows, indicating her to reiterate her response.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

“You referred to me as ‘love’.” He repeated, his tongue spewing out the last word like it was coated in dirt and grime.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Is something bothering you?” she asked again, placing her hand on his thigh as a gesture of concern.

How was he expected to ask her if she actually, truly loved him, without causing a kerfuffle? Without making it seem awkward, without losing her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What then? Would that make him feel better? Would that make him happy? A chill ran down his spine when he realized his answer. No. he wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be terribly upset. He wanted y/n to love him. Shaking his head, he tried to heed logic over his emotion. He had to stop himself before he caused something he couldn’t fix. Before y/n realized the monster he truly was. He had to protect his beloved y/n, that would be the least he owed to her, after all that he had led her into.

He neutralized his expression, calming his breathing. This was for the best. He was the God of Lies, he did not deserve love after all that he had done.

“As a matter of fact, y/n, something is bothering me.”

y/n nodded, encouraging him to explain his predicament. “You can talk to me, love.”

Loki inhaled quickly, the use of the blasted term knocking him out of character for a second before he was able to regain his composure. He would ask the question directly. Right to the point, like he was doing business. That was the only way he could maintain his pretense without breaking down too soon. y/n might never forgive him after tonight, but to have her angry at him was so much better than losing her, on his account.

“Do you love me?”

y/n gasped lightly at the sudden question, her eyes widening at how Loki asked her about something so deep with no emotion in his voice. She sensed his sudden hostility, this coldness he was presenting her with. Sitting upright, she looked into his eyes. Nothing. She could read nothing from his expression. All she could pick up was this eerie sadness radiating off of him.

She decided to try reasoning with him. This sudden hostility meant something was bothering him at a much more personal level, and such issues mustn’t be dealt with before an important mission. She would know.

“We don’t have to do this today, Loki. We have to be up early tomorrow, and I doubt- “

“Answer the question, y/n.” Loki interrupted, his voice hardened like steel.

“Loki, we really mustn’t-“ she tried again.

“Answer, y/n.” he pressed.

y/n could only look at him and wonder what the cause was for the unexpected change in his demeanor. How was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to give the answer to the one question that could either make or break everything that they had together? How was she supposed to tell him that her love for him was far more than life? That he was her life? It didn’t matter how less time they had spent with each other; she knew him a lot longer before they had decided to begin their courtship, and she had fallen in love with him even before they had gotten romantically involved. She only fell harder for him after she saw how he truly was. How broken and vulnerable, how he yearned for a place in someone’s heart, how he wished someone could love him without any foretold conditions. How he wished to be free. Loki’s eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. y/n’s lack of response answered his question. She did love him. But he had to hear it from her. That was the only way he could finish this for good. For his y/n.

“I’m waiting.” He prompted, slightly flinching at the coldness in his voice.

y/n’s eyes flicked over to his, her skin eliciting goosebumps from the steely nature of his voice. He had never been like this to her. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was under Thanos’ control. Breathing deeply, she reached out and held his hands, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. I do. I love you,” she whispered, blood pounding against her ears. Her heart convulsed in her chest when Loki didn’t reply. She cracked her eyes open, her fingers growing cold at Loki’s unchanged demeanor.

Loki’s chest heaved at her response. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered, her eyes shut at the vulnerability of their situation. He already knew what she was going to say, but to hear it from her own mouth, her voice tiny as ever in fear that he wouldn’t return her feelings had him gasp slightly. His blood ran cold, his mind freezing at another realization. He loved her too. Of course he did. How could he have been so blind? He loved her so much, he hadn’t even noticed. Finish it! Finish it right now! Before you make things worse! His mind screamed at him. He knew what he had to do. Swallowing, he tried to memorize the feel of her hands against his. This was all he was ever going to have. A memory. A memory of his little lioness, a memory of what he would have had if he was someone different. Someone nicer, better. Someone not him. He pulled away from her, and met her eyes, his expression stoic and emotionless. Like the monster he was.

“Pity.” He whispered, his heartbreaking at how y/n’s eyes widened. He thought he experienced heartbreak when he lost his mother. As destructive as that moment was, many years ago, he believed he wouldn’t feel anything over this. After all, you can’t break something that’s already broken. But boy, was he wrong. This was heartbreak. And apparently, it's even worse when you go through it a second time. His veins felt like ice, his head heavier than ever. He could feel his throat closing up, all he wanted was to rip his heart out of his chest. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, he didn’t deserve to live after all that he had done.

“What?” came y/n’s voice, a little barely over a whisper. He couldn’t help but notice how her voice was heavy, laced with hurt.

“It’s a pity you think you love me.” He reiterated, his words chapping away at his already cracked heart.

y/n couldn’t process the event unfolding in front of her. Loki didn’t love her. No, worse. Loki thought it was stupid that she loved him. If she had any concern for her dignity, she would ask him to leave. But she loved him far too much. She decided to try one last time. Straddling him, she reached over and cupped his face in his hands, pressing her lips against his ice-cold ones. He was shocked for a moment, and before he realized, he was kissing her back. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you too. But all could do was try and engrave in his mind the feeling of her soft lips on his, the warmth of her hands against his cheeks. This was the end. He had to use all his willpower not to pull her in his arms and deepen the kiss, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Breaking away, y/n whispered, “it may be stupid that I do. Pathetic, even. -It isn’t pathetic. I love it.- Honestly, not one day goes by where I don’t face criticism about how I must be an ignorant fool to love someone like you. But what these people don’t understand, is that they are the ones that are ignorant. They do not see you as I do, and although I wish every day that they would, I doubt it will ever happen. You are, the best thing that has ever happened to me. That ever will happen to me,” she says, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Can’t you feel this? This is what I feel every time I think of you- this is how I feel every time you merely breathe in my direction. -You are the reason I still exist, my dear. You keep me tethered to the outside world.- My love for you has been in existence for far longer than our courtship. I wish I could do more than just tell you how much I love you, if I could, I would give you anything, everything you’ve ever wanted; my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you 2 years ago. So take it, trample over it- it was yours to do anything with anyway. -So was mine. I am yours, just as you claim to be mine.- I love you, Loki Friggason, and I refuse to stop. -I love you too, my darling y/n. but I must do this. For you. Forgive me.-”

All Loki could do was hold in all those thoughts he desperately wanted to put in words. He could feel his eyes well up, his chest convulsing for the umpteenth time. Inhaling her scent, he hoped he would remember the sweet smell of chocolate and wine she always smelled of.

With great restraint, he pushed her off of him, his heart churning at y/n’s gasp. Her heart cracked at his dismissal. He couldn’t look at her while he shattered her heart, while he ripped it right off the pedestal. This was the end.

“You say all this, but you mean nothing by it, I assure you. I have encountered numerous midgardians professing their love for me, but I can tell when someone lies y/n. And it is very clear to me how you are simply overwhelmed. You do not love me. You are simply but a blatant, ignorant fool.” Could his heart shatter any further? Apparently, yes. It clawed at his chest, pain searing in his bones. He would feel all of it. He would embrace it.

He forced his lips to morph into a twisted, sickening smile. Agony. That is what he felt. Fresh burning agony, like fire in his tendons.

“What we have is all but a product of boredom. I was simply bored, silly mortal.” He looked up at her when she gasped, her hand on her heart. It was almost as if he could hear it shatter. All he wanted to do was hold her and weep. Tell her how sorry he was. Tell her how he wished he was the person she truly deserved. Instead, he was going to crawl into a ball and wish for death.

He got up to leave. Once and for all. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he willed his tears to sink back to wherever they came from. He didn’t deserve to cry.

“Did I ever matter to you?” he heard her whisper. Deciding not to answer, he stepped towards the door before she called to him. “Did I, Loki?” she asked again, her voice steadier. There was the woman he had hopelessly fallen in love with. A lioness, she certainly was.

He turned around to look at her, the same lifeless smile dancing across his lips. If he was someone else, he would have been taken aback at y/n’s stoic expression. She would rise again. She would continue to live her life, and no one was going to stop her. Especially him. That was the lioness he knew of. The only evidence of her hurt was the tiny teardrops prickling in her eyes, which he could see only because of the morning sun rays peeking in through the gaps in the curtains. She never cried.

“No,” he breathed, swiftly exiting through the door before she could see the tears that had traitorously fallen onto his cheeks.

part 2 here!