#this is actually the most ridiculous post don’t clown on me

[ancreneriwle]

feeling kind of bummed that i spent most of advent not celebrating or spending time in prayer. it is just so hard to find the right thing to say to God after the last two years and how much people ignore me at the cathedral now.

[twopoppies]

Hi! So I was actually at Morriña festival a few days ago and wanted to ask your opinion on the theory that Harry was there, then saw that you already posted a bit about it. So here’s my take. I’m actually still on the fence about it, but leaning towards “within the realm of possibility”.

My arguments in favour:

• Louis was very funny and cheeky with fans for most of the show, but for some specific lines he got significantly more serious. What stuck out to me personally was “love you cannot hide” in The Greatest, the entirety of Saturdays, the second verse of We Made It. His gaze seems to be much more focused and pointed, not moving at all, and with it being during these specific lyrics… I am ready to clown lol.

• In the beginning of We Made It (and maybe more times, this is just what I recorded) he pointed twice somewhere high - too high for fan signs, but lower than he usually points for emphatic value. And I think that he pointed in the general direction of the projector tower, which, as I’ll explain later, is the likeliest place for Harry to be if he was there.

• There was technically a place for Harry to hide at, despite the open layout of the festival. You can see the scheme at the festival’s insta page here https://www.instagram.com/p/C9zvd7ni6MF/?igsh=MWdkMWhkZDZqb2NsYQ== and the building you initially posted about was indeed just a warehouse with toilets. I was inside, although a little drunk already, but I only remember very high ceilings and windows to let in natural light, so I am 99% sure that there is no proper second floor. Other buildings on the site are too small, so instead my best bet is the projector tower in front of the stage. I saw some people say that there was someone in the side of the stage, but I couldn’t notice anything, and I had an excellent view of that side, plus Louis didn’t look that far to his left.

• After the show Louis posted a picture of himself from the back, and the tower is well within his range of aforementioned medium-high pointing.

• Harry’s most recent bike pictures - they were backdated exactly to July 26. I don’t have nearly as many experience as you, but to me such backdated pap pictures have come to mean that Harry was actually in a different place that day.

My arguments against:

• Based on what I could observe from my spot, Louis’ gaze doesn’t seem to (always) land on a plausible spot for Harry to hide in. Sometimes it goes a little too far to the left from the projector tower (even on the picture he posted he seems to be looking more to his left), and there are no other suitable buildings in that direction. Unless we consider industrial buildings beyond the festival grounds, but this seems ridiculous to me. I doubt that Harry could’ve come to a random Galician cement company and be like “Oh, my secret boyfriend is performing in front of here tonight, can I please hand around your cement mixing tower or whatnot for half the night?”

• I only notices a lot of the aforementioned things a good while after the show, when I heard that Harry was supposedly there and began rewatching my footage to prove or disprove that. So I may be cherrypicking facts to fit what I would really like to be true. Except for the Saturdays thing, though; he was genuinely so emotional during it, and his demeanour shifted so suddenly when he started it, that I noticed this even in the moment.

So here’s what I can say, what’s your opinion?

And an unrelated fact for your interest: the majority of the crowd, or at least those who camped and ended up at the barricade, were larries (I was at the barricade too btw… best night of my life). During Back To You Louis didn’t sing the “I love … “ line at all, but we all screamed “I love him” and he nodded and smiled at us.

Lots of love and best wishes :)

Hi, sweetheart. You comment about the cement mixing tower made me laugh. 🤣🤣🤣

First of all, I’m so glad you were there and got to be at the barricade, and had such a good show.

Second, I do think the photos of Harry in London were likely from any day but the day they dropped, based on his clothing (and that there was no particular reason for him to be papped in London that day)

Third, I don’t think it’s impossible that he was at the festival, and your comments about why and where, make more sense than anything I’ve seen yet. We’ll never know for sure, but I’d love to believe he was able to be there.

x

[broadwaybalogna]

honestly i typed out a whole essay about how much i hate zukka shippers (not the zukka ship. it’s a valid and cute ship. the shippers are just really obnoxious and i hate how they act like they’re better than zutarians/kataangers when it’s like. you’re a clown too. we’re all part of this circus. accept it. and like 75% of zukka fans also ship kataang anyways) but i deleted it. Putting my hater days behind me 👍

(fuck no i’m not also why do kataangers/zukka fans always say that zutara is a ‘ship for straight people’?? like as a nonbinary pan person. it’s just not??? like sure straight people can like it too but it’s such a fucking bisexual ship. my opinion is fact btw i am actually the CEO of Big Gay. saying a ship is ‘for the straights’ is just so fucking ridiculous like what. also it’s a baited but non-canon ship thats really popular in the fandom. that’s so queercoded tbh /hj)

Before I indulge in this ask I need to be honest, which one of my posts inspired you to write this in my asks? Like, genuinely. I don’t think I’ve ever talked about Zukka before so I’d love to know what sparked this.

I’ve personally never really understood Zukka. I kinda always saw it as the Gay Ship™️ (the ship straight girls make so they have something gay to drool over). While idk if it’s true, it’s a trend that can easily be seen in other tv shows.

Now, what I have seen with Zukka shippers, is that Zukka has a tendency to be shipped along with a more “mainstream ship” (such as kat@ang or Zutara). For instance, a Zukka shipper might ship both Zukka and Zutara. So they tend to overlap with many multishippers.

The multishipper mindset in the A:tLA fandom is a lot different than in other fandoms because of the holier than thou mindset many multishippers have. I’ve seen so many takes from multishippers that talk about how “omg we need to stop fighting just ship both it’s superior to just shipping one!” Now, I’m not saying all multishippers in this fandom act like this, I know many multishippers that are great at respecting the ship wars and how their mindset can’t change other peoples, what I’m saying is that I’ve seen a certain trend, and it wouldn’t surprise me if many of these people were Zukka shippers.

As for the “Zutara is a ship for straight people”

…

Since fucking when?

So many queer people ship Zutara it’s actually crazy like finding a straight Zutara shipper is like looking for a needle in a haystack because even if they are straight, they sure as hell don’t act like it. Like, so many Zutara shippers are comfortable with their sexuality that girls are not afraid to say: “omg timeskip Katara is the most attractive woman ever I wanna kiss her so bad” or vice versa with Zuko.

So yeah, that’s my opinion on Zukka. I couldn’t really care less about the ship, though. It just exists to me.

[0pawprint0]

Fickle Fandom

Warning: crass language (I have no filter)

I need to rant about something I’ve noticed. Unfortunately, I deal with a person like those I’m about to talk about in real life and it’s not fun. This essay/rant is extremely informal and just me getting my thoughts out there, so please excuse the text talk, slang, shortcuts, etc. I am also very tired when typing this, so please cut me some slack if I don’t say what I’m wanting to in the most eloquent way!

I’m sure a lot of people have noticed that fandom spaces have become incredibly toxic. What used to be a fun place for weirdos (/pos) to feel safe and accepted is now being torn to shreds by people who can’t stand others having fun. TikTok is a great example of how a safe place for fandom behavior quickly became a cesspit of negativity. This post mostly focuses on cosplay. TikTok was basically built on cosplay. That used to be the main thing you’d find on the app! As more and more people started using it, it started to have different kinds of content, and now cosplay tends to get shoved down in favor of something more appealing to a wider demographic. Unfortunately, this means a lot of mean-spirited people have too much to say about a community they are not even part of.

The hate for cosplayers is unreal. Cosplayers aren’t doing anything wrong. We are dressing up as characters for fun. It is not hurting you. If you see something you don’t want to see, it is not hard to swipe past it. Ignore it. Interacting with it will ensure more content like it will reach your fyp. But some people just want to be mean and love the chance to get to do so. People make fun of cosplayers now like it’s their job. They insult them and throw fits like toddlers the moment they see them. Most hate for cosplayers is rooted in ableism, by the way! Fun fact! The word "cringey" has been twisted by sad people to target neurodivergent individuals. Many cosplayers (not all, but many) are neurodivergent. Many cosplayers are lgbt+, too. And you bet homophobia and transphobia is rampant in fandom spaces, too!

The hate doesn’t stop at people who don’t have nerdy interests, either. Oh no. Even people from fandoms are rude towards cosplayers! People will complain about "cringey" cosplayers "ruining" fandoms. Spoiler alert: there are cosplayers in every fandom. Kindly, get over it. People enjoy their fandoms in different ways! Some people write fanfiction and draw fanart, some consume fanfiction and fanart, some only interact with the original media, and some cosplay. All are valid ways to enjoy it! Hating on others for how they interact with their fandom is ridiculous, to say the least. The people ruining fandoms are the ones who can’t stand seeing others have fun. I’m sorry your life is so boring you can’t stand seeing others being creative and having a good time. However, that doesn’t give you the excuse to be a dickhead. Policing how someone expresses their love of something is not cool. Anyone who does this is actually a pathetic little weenie.

Let me get into my personal experience! Remember how I mentioned I have someone like this irl? Let me tell you about the interaction that spurred this rant! I am preparing for a con at this very moment. This weekend! Some context here: I am a cosplayer. I have been doing it for years and it’s a hobby that I love and don’t plan on giving up on anytime soon. I am also someone who is very inspired by drag and I enjoy doing my makeup inspired by cartoons and drag queens. This person absolutely cannot stand it when I decide to even put on a little makeup for the heck of it. Oops, I’m also someone who does my makeup occasionally outside of cosplay! The incognito nerd saw me carrying some of my makeup to my bag and stopped me to go, "You’re not gonna dress like a CLOWN, are you?" This could be taken literally, but I’m pretty sure it was meant to be an insult. This person insults my makeup often, claiming I don’t do it right (there is no right way to do makeup, btw). They also generally insult the way I dress. I told them no, but why would it matter?

"Because it’s embarrassing! Don’t embarrass me!" Babe, YOU embarrass ME tbh! I literally told them straight up, "This place is going to be filled with cosplayers and people like me. I don’t know what to tell you." If you are someone who gets embarrassed of cosplayers, a con probably isn’t the place for you. What used to be a safe space for cosplayers is now overrun by people who don’t know how to have fun. I should not have to worry about being harassed and made fun of at a place where people like me are supposed to thrive. Please, loosen the stick in your asshole ever so slightly so you can see that cons are meant to be fun! If you’re easily overloaded by "cringey" stuff, please stay home. You sour the mood and suck the life of everyone around you. Okay, sponge mop?

I can’t even get into how some other cosplayers treat cosplayers. That is a whole other can of worms I simply cannot get into right now. We will be here all night. Cosplay is not a clout contest. It is not about who is most accurate to the character. Cosplay is supposed to be FUN! And it is for everyone! No one is too old to cosplay. No one is too fat to cosplay. No one is too skinny to cosplay. No one should feel restricted because of skin color. No one should feel restricted because of gender. No one should feel restricted because of money. No one should feel bad about cosplaying, ever. People can stylize characters. People can make closet cosplays. Cosplay is for everyone. If I see any more cosplayers bringing other cosplayers down, I’m gonna lose it.

My point is, fandom spaces aren’t as fun as they used to be. I miss when I could walk into a con with a barely recognizable Juuzou Suzuya cosplay and still get complimented for trying (real experience! Those cosplayers were so kind!). I miss when I didn’t feel like I’d be judged for entering a space I should feel safe in. I miss when I could drag up my cosplay as much as I want without someone telling me the makeup is too much. I miss when fandom spaces were fun. If you can’t handle fandom activity in a fandom space, you should reflect on why you don’t like it. Most likely, it’s jealousy others can enjoy themselves so freely. Let others have fun. Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean everyone else has to be.

[becauseimanicequeen]

RANDOM THOUGHTS: Deep Night ep. 6

I’m going into this episode wanting more in the relationship department, especially the throuple and Great and James moments (because we’ve barely seen the latter). I would definitely not mind Freya and her girlfriend either. I’ve seen enough of Khem and Wela for the moment, so can we please focus on the others for a little (or long) while? I’m manifesting it…

Are the police going to find that drug bag the shady person from the previous episode left in the restroom?

Btw, if I ever saw a woman act like Khem’s aunt does, I would run in the opposite direction. She fucking terrifies me. And it’s not even funny. Well, maybe a little…

It’s so annoying when they don’t translate the text that shows up on the screen, whether it’s text messages, social media posts or comments. It feels like I’m missing out on a lot…

OMG. Pan! Why is he so cute? I usually don’t vibe with cuteness, but Pan is fucking adorable. He’s like a puppy, and who wouldn’t love a puppy? (Well, Ken. But screw him. Literally, please…)

It’s nice that Khem and Wela are getting along and dating and that they’re happy and whatever. But, can I get some throuple time?

OMG, Pan! He’s so fucking sweet! He’s starting to look like the glue that will keep this throuple together. (And I will stay in this fucking clown car until I actually get this throuple, because I want it and I need it!)

It’s great that Ken apologized. One thing I don’t get, though, is that when he apologizes, they’re focusing on Khem rather than Wela. Wela is the one who has the most to lose with this secret being out considering the non-dating rule they have at the club, and they’re focusing on Khem? Wela should be the one getting the apology, he should be the one to respond to it, and he should be the focus here. Right?

Btw, the way Seji looks at Pan when he bends forward to tell Ken that they’re there to just chill… No one can tell me he isn’t interested in Pan.

Seji running away from Pan and Ken made me cackle.

The second apology in just a couple of minutes. Look at these boys being all mature, recognizing and admitting they were wrong, and apologizing.

Lol, the ”prosper” outburst is giving me 1000 Years Old flashbacks, and I was not expecting that.

OMG! Look at these two idiots (Pan and Ken) arguing about who loves Seji most. They’re so fucking ridiculous and I love them so much. But, please, boys, realize that poly is the answer.

Why is Pan still standing on that chair? Baby, please get down from there before you fall.

Shirtless Great and James! They’re so sweet. And look how happy Great is!

Damn, has everyone lost their dad in this series? Khem, Seji, and Wela. Who’s next?

Now Ken is helping Pan. The throuple is throuple-ing.

Until Pan probably realized that Ken knows so much more about Seji than Pan does… He looked so sad. Someone, please hug him. (Let it be both Seji and Ken, please.)

Pan talking about manifesting, and here I am manifesting him in a throuple with Seji and Ken. Make it happen, Universe!

Finally! Seji and Pan’s first kiss. That was damn near perfection for me. First, Pan is all innocent and cute when talking about what lovers do (travel, share food, hold hands). And then Seji kisses him. And then the look on Pan’s face! I forgot to breathe there for a second or two. And then Seji tells Pan to remember that when you like someone, you’ll want to kiss them. And then they kissed again. (Too bad Ken saw it, though. Even though I want them all to be together, at this point, I get that it would be hurtful for Ken to see that. It will be interesting to see what happens from now on.)

Oh, lord, look at all these sponsors in this episode.

Hey, Aunty, calm down. You might get a heart attack or stroke or something.

It’s so fucking annoying that they don’t sub text messages.

I loved this episode, I thought it was great. It was nice to see them just chill and have fun and I loved that I got some moments between the throuple as well as Great and James. This was a nice break before the drama picks up again in the next episode.

[aibhilin-atibeka]

So I got tagged TWICE somehow XD (jk, love y’all, big thanks to @that-cloud and @a-knight-owls-curse, I adore these tagging games!!!)

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

So, yes, the ones I’m working on, eh? Ought to only be a handful...

...

10 minutes later, it’s decidedly NOT a handful. It’s more like five handfuls, y’all. when did I ever accumulate this many??? why did I decide to work on them simultaneously??????????? new rule: ones that I’ve touched in the past five days or so. also, apparently I don’t have only ONE wip folder, what do you take me for, a heathen? no, I’ve got to have three different ones, one of those an analogue one that I had to hunt for behind the newspaper stash on my desk.

Around 6 original short stories that a) don’t all have titles yet but are plotted and planned out to a T and will be written within the next few days, if not weeks.

Through Troubled Waters (yup, why start into an easy, nice, oneshot after a writer’s block when I can start with the frigging longest longfic I’ve ever longed to write for???) One Piece, Buggy the Clown time travels to his own past and eventually his mini!me and Shanks stumble upon him and don’t leave him alone (neither does he them tho, so it evens out). (mind the tags, please!)

Dead Man Walking (it counts if I edit stuff, right? ... yup, it means I touched it within the last five days or so.) One Piece, a dimension travel (or is it?) piece about Portgas D. Ace (and company). (please mind the tags on this one!)

The Second Part to This Series That Still Exists, Why, Yes, It Does. One Piece, a young Buggy meets Garp a year after his ex-captain’s execution and, well, baby!Portgas D. Ace, as it so happens. Buggy doesn’t trust Garp to treat babies right and gets himself force-adopted/kidnappedoes with him to wherever he’s going. Dadan, meet pirate apprentice!Buggy. Buggy, be flabbergasted at Garp’s choice in babysitter. Ace, be happy.

An unpublished Christmas fanfic, namely a Danny Phantom/DC Batfamily crossover fanfic that doesn’t frigging leave me alone until I finish it.

An as-of-yet unnamed alternative crossover fanfic about Danny Phantom and the Batfamily that insists it wants to be a longfic and whose dreams and aspirations I regularly have to dash to dust cause I do not want any more longfics on ao3 until I’ve finished at least ONE, darn it all.

at least three more oneshots in the One Piece fandom I’ve yet to finish/write more on so they can count as done/edit

So. I had writer’s block for a while there (helloooooo job search, I hate you so. much.) cause I had to write other genres of text a LOT lately and am as unhappy about it as to want to actually publish a freaking book sometime soon, just so I’ll have something else to write for.

as for the tags, I have no clue WHO to tag? Feel free to ignore them if you don't want to.

@gallus-rising and anybody else who’d like to? Feel free to jump in and let me know about your wips, folks! I love hearing about any you’d like to share!!! :D

[unwraigddig]

It’s been a while since I initially posted. Today I’m angry about well, the system I guess. Mostly the complete and utter lack of support in my country, and ultimately the vicious circle of it.

I have not not had a job since I left school. For those who’s argument is you can’t blame our system etc when America etc doesn’t even have one and women have to pay tens of thousands just to have a bloody baby, never mind if they need treatment because of something that wasn’t even their fault.

But there are people in this country who have not worked a day in their lives, have not contributed to the funds in which the government give to them, much less contributed anything at all to society/the community (with the exception of the absolute clowns who end up doing community service, although I’m not sure a punishment can be accepted as a legitimate contribution).

So why, despite having contributed to this system for over 10 years, is it now failing me when I need it the most? I have so many mental health issues, most of which stem from PTSD. Need therapy for that, especially since CBT doesn’t work for me (too rational, my mind knows I’m okay but my body does not). Tried to get therapy with my company health insurance when I was actually employed (can’t really say working since I spent the last 6 months of my job on and off sick leave), even private, you can’t get a therapist (even online) in Great Britain, never mind Wales, for at least 3/4 months, depending on what you need specifically. So with that in mind, just imagine how absolutely ridiculous the wait is on the mental health system. The main system that my GP uses for therapy and CBT is a local charity known as Mind. You pay £10 a session, £25 if you’re employed, to be treated by a student counsellor… right so why do I pay for the NHS then? Because as a charity, yes they are very helpful with treatment etc in an already overloaded system, but they cannot provide the time that the GP’s and official bodies can to help people get the full help they need. It’s a vicious cycle.

I have anxiety due to being a victim of domestic abuse, and if you’re asking physical, mental etc, the answer is all of them. I had all of the abuses for 6 months of my life, and it left me completely and utterly broken. Although I’m not sure if I feel more broken because it happened, or because of the way my life changed after it happened. My abuser, by the way, is quite happily living his best life on full benefits, although he is working full time cash in hand. Bills paid, flat paid for, grants galore… hold on, wasn’t he the one who did something wrong though?

So, anxiety because of domestic abuse. Not a something I did to myself, or caused myself. I had harm inflicted on me by another person who I was supposed to be able to trust unconditionally. I now suffer with several different mental health issues due to this, and in turn suffer with very physical issues caused by this. PIP decides I can do all the things that they asked me if I could do. I never said I couldn’t do them to be fair, that’s not the issue, the issue is I need constant nagging, prompting among other things because I just won’t do them, or I’ll forget. Sometimes I’m too anxious to move let alone go to the kitchen and make myself food. God knows how many pizzas I’ve burnt to a crisp because I’ve forgotten about them in a state of unpredicted anxiety.

So, ended up having to quit my job due to this, because despite all the crap these big companies spout about mental health and caring and supporting you as an employee, its actually bullshit and a tick box exercise they are required to do by law. They very much will kick you out the door as fast as they can, because they don’t want to help, they don’t know enough to want to help either. Brutal.

So yeah, quit my job after 6 months due to the ongoing anxiety, and after having multiple people who were supposed to help me fail me. If I’d had got the help I needed when I needed it, I would not be in the situation I am in now, as I’d have probably got better 10 x faster and not got myself into masses of debt due to substitutive satisfactions.

Can’t get PIP, apparently even though they ask if you need prompting etc, it doesn’t really matter if you can physically do it. So whoopsie if I forget to eat for 3 days because my mind isn’t healthy enough to make me a meal, but my body is.

UC? Ah yes, but probably about to have the fight of my life over that because I’ve applied for full time education (Social Sciences, funny that. So I can help people like me, when they need it, and hopefully they won’t end up like me then.) to get into a job to help a system that failed me so it does not fail others so drastically, because even though UC themselves has declared me unfit for work… PIP hasn’t and neither has anyone else, so I can’t really be that ill. Or, perhaps it is because I am ill that I also cannot fight for things I’m entitled to, because even though the government says you can have them, they don’t want to give it to you. Easier to get a politician to cut off an arm I reckon, or get blood out of a stone, whichever tickles your fancy.

But yes, back to education because my life has been ruined by someone who undeservedly gets all the help under the sun. It’s the fact he has priors, had only come off probation like a month before I put in my case, had already literally JUST been through all the court mandated therapies… but he still gets let off with probation, community service, and yet again, the same court mandated therapies that have already clearly not worked.

Trying to get back into education because I essentially need to restart my life, because I feel everything in my old life he touched has been ruined with unpleasant memories. I’m not sitting here on my ass feeling sorry for myself, I have tried allllllll the self help techniques under the sun. Partially, I think I was too far gone before they were taught to me. So I’m also partially going into education to help myself, and then help others. Let me tell you now, there are not very many people in this world whom I’d wish what has happened to my life in the last 18 months upon. The only godsend is my current boyfriend (soulmate to be honest, that’s another story and I’m not bigging it up either. When you know you know, if you don’t and you’re unhappy, get rid.), and having moved in with my best friend into a 2 bed house. But, my worsening financial situation is causing issues there also, partially because my bestie had a really rough start into her adult life, had to drop out of uni to prioritise family, and is now in a position to educate herself into a career that she put on hold to help someone else. She also won’t get help, despite only working 3 days a week, and quite literally being turfed out on her ass at age 18ish because her mother passed away and she wasn’t entitled to any housing benefits, UC wasn’t a thing then, and she was working so couldn’t claim JSA. Literally turfed out on the street 2 weeks after her mum died because she was young and working, and the young and working don’t have problems like the middle aged and working. We absolutely do not pay the exact same costs as a 35yo living in the same situation as us, but that’s mostly because the 35yo would have all the help in the world, but the 21-35yo doesn’t need it according to the government. Instead we’re forced into poverty because of the politician’s ludicrous decision and ideals, (that absolutely has not been made due to their own life experiences let me tell you!), that we somehow, even as younger adults with potentially lesser life experience, let alone lesser time to get our shit together, are underserving of assistance, and only deserve half of which a 35yo would get in the same situation. A 35yo living in a house share would have the full rent paid, however a 21-35yo in a house share gets the local housing shared accommodation rate (which for me is 280, my half of the rent is 412.50). The only difference between the two situations is literally age. Why, because we are younger, are we any less deserving of help? I’ve contributed more to the government through working than half of the 35yo’s in my area. Most of them in my area on benefits at that age are generally alcoholics, druggies or people who made extremely poor decisions in their twenties… Vicious cycle at work again. Instead of helping those in their twenties who are asking for it, we instead punish them by telling them they’re undeserving, or only half deserving. We don’t give them the help they need, so they then become one of the 35yo’s I’ve described, making poor decisions in their twenties out of desperation.

The very system that is there to help us, is also the one that puts us in the position of needing help.

[widevibratobitch]

if you get upset about other people 'vagueing' you then perhaps try not doing it yourselves. use those spines of yours - not to point fingers (<- is boutta start pointing fingers) but lol&lmao bold words coming from someone who literally started this whole vagueing avalanche and is now the one crying about it. action - reaction, sweetheart. but i digress.

Let's just start by saying this was never about Verdi, Mozart or even Rossini. I feel no need to converse with you or try to convince you of anything, because I simply do not care. You’re entitled to your own opinion and I’m entitled to mocking it in the privacy of my own blog (which, again, I did not do until you started the vague-party).

Now. This entire ridiculous callout post could have been a single click on the block button on your part. You are aware you can use it too, right? Everything you’re asking from me and my friends - you yourself can actually do first! Set an example, why don’t you.

Aren’t you tired? Like genuinely asking. Aren’t you? As entertaining as this catfighting has been, I sure am. 

I've said this before and I'll say it again - none of this would ever have happened if you, or any other person vagueing us and clutching their pearls at our (or mine? since you seem to have some ridiculous personal vendetta against me in particular, judging by this post especially - and while i’d normally be flattered, at this point it’s just plain annoying) violent evil ways, would have messaged us about it privately sooner. If that was a legitimate issue, if it was something genuinely upsetting to you or your friends and either of you would have let me know about it - I would have stopped immediately. But you clearly enjoyed making patronising posts, villainizing me and my friends for clowning in the tags in what is THE most common and signature form of tumblr humour.

Self-aggrandising? Sure lol. Again. We’re on tumblr aka the site where every single person in any given fandom is the self-proclaimed Only One Who Gets It And Is Right About It. Cliquey? I’m sorry, is having friends amongst your mutuals a crime now? Lmfao please.

As for the “isolated occurrence” - be fuckin fr right now. An unrelated post from almost a year ago that we have discussed and (apparently not) resolved in private when you messaged me about it, if you recall. So sorry but I won’t waste my time by talking about it now.

And since Sofia @verdiesque was nice and civil in her response, which you basically completely ignored, I’ll be the one doing the biting now. Say dumb shit - get mocked for it. (‘dumb shit’ is, of course, a subjective matter, so if you find my shit dumb you are more than welcome to mock me in turn - which you have, in fact, done; but i guess your mocking is fine and just, but ours is evil and immoral…???).

As for your words being ‘thrown back at you’ - i think if you threaten to kill yourself or another living creature, even jokingly, over something as inconsequential as a fucking tumblr poll, there is something genuinely wrong with you - HOW am i supposed to not mock you when you assume this patronising, holier-than-thou stance and write this exact combination of words as a response to me saying, and i quote, I WILL KICK A PUPPY INTO THE SUN. Like sorry not sorry but it’s impossible to take you seriously in such a situation, no matter how heartfelt or sincere a thought that was.

Not even gonna comment on the pirate poll argument because it’s just absurd to me, next.

(also, minor detail, but please do show me a single tag of mine under those polls where i would “threaten” any actual harm, such as pushing someone into traffic (lol&lmao), onto another person (not counting, of course, the sun-kicked puppies) - i’ve made sure to direct such jokes only at myself, just in case, for damage control, and yet. as i see that was still not enough and some delicate sensibilities were hurt anyway... Tragic really but i did all i could, oh well)

“i write them because i have thoughts and opinions and emotions and posting them is what a blog is for” GOD BLESS so do I. So maybe let’s keep it that way without absurd attempts at policing other people’s shit. Neither me nor my friends have ever tagged you or said your name publicly in any of our dark and sinister mocking posts and memes. Those who knew - knew. Those who didn’t - didn’t, end of story. 

Also the fact that THAT was the post that set you off on this crusade is beyond fucking stupid. As Sofia said, that was a joke relating to our personal history, that is known to our friends and mutuals, but does not necessarily need to be known by YOURS. Hence the turned off reblog option. Not everything is about you, girl. 

Having said all that… You are simply taking this way too seriously i think <3

@widevibratobitch @verdiesque

can y'all either @ me or block me already this is getting exhausting

[colorlesschristmastree]

So some anti's are shaking 😂 figured some of my favorite feyre blogs should see the clownery for themselves.

toast-com in acotardeservesbetter's anon

reblogged by readingwritingwatching

"Why is Feysand popular again? Did the stans forget what Rhysand did? And while I'm at it, the bargain he made with Feyre was frankly excessive. He healed her arm, and in return she has to spend time with him every month. I don't get it."

What a bunch of clowns 🤡 one is an obsessive t*mlin apologist infamous redhead who creeps out half of the fanbase by all the weird and ridiculous sh*t she says and does, the other is an account who's name is toast.com..need I say more and the other is an anti acotar account who dedicates their time and energy to a series that mostly revolves around feyre and rhysand yet they can't help obsessively posting about them and creating an entire anti blog dedicated to the series that aggravates them more than it makes them happy, that on it's own? is WEIRD. I've been seeing alot more support and much deserved love for feyre and rhysand and of course the anti's picked up on the shift in the tide so they're fretting now that their anti arguments are getting easily shut down more than it did after acosf. "why is feysand popular again?" LMAO, stay mad I love it.

I’m sorry but this is so funny to me. They’re right though, Feysand nation is stronger than ever and thriving. I’ve been seeing so much love, especially after Rhys week that just passed, on here, instagram, and twitter. All of the lovely fanart commissions and even things that artists chose to post for free bc they simply love Rhys and Feysand, the fanfics that people put their whole souls into that just radiate a love and appreciation for Feysand. I love being a feysand stan, I love winning, I love being able to open the books and just have a good time, enjoying the story with all the characters, even ones i don’t like as much.

They got so used to seeing their faves be loudly stanned they forgot that they’re not actually the series’s most beloved characters.

People come for Feysand and stay because they love the world Feysand introduced them to. And you’re right, the way certain people who participate in fandom have a weird obsession with hating everything about it is so weird to me. Do something more productive with your time and find yourself a series where you can actually love every single character and not just a few whose characters you warp and distort into different people inside your head. If you don’t get why Feysand, the couple and characters that have always been beloved, are being appreciated again, it might really just be time to move on. I swear, some of them have Feysand on their minds more than I do.

And nonnie, you are so right about that last part. They’re bitter they can’t make their bizarre anti posts without someone disagreeing and responding with a genuine argument that’s based on the text and not just vibes. They’re mad that no one cares about their “sjm is a bias author!!! feyre is a self insert! that’s the only reason y’all r winning.” arguments, and instead we’ve been leaning into it, bc despite disagreeing, if they know that their opinions are so wrong and in such opposition to the text, that they only way they can justify it is by saying that the author herself is out to get them and their faves, then ik I’m stanning the right people.

[awsugar]

I don’t understand why some big mcr blogs slate anyone who believes gerard and frank had a thing, like our view didn’t arise from nowhere there’s clearly evidence that has led us to think this. I get disliking those who push frerard in frank and Gerard’s faces (barely anyone does this nowadays) but slating people for believing they had something in the past is kinda ridiculous imo. Franks solo music speaks volumes but if you read into it you’re demonised as a frerardie

mmmmm am i down to clown today... ok i will speak.

actually im going to put this under a cut bc my last ask was a long one and i feel like i am going to talk about this for way too long bc its 1am and im honestly a little tipsy.

note: i just finished answering this it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time and i dont think the person who asked this is even going to read it but i apparently have a lot of thoughts and no one ever wants to listen to me lol 

firstable yea actually unfortunately anytime they do a livestream, or anytime anyone SOMEHOW RELATED to them does a livestream. there are ppl in the chat talking about frerard. they both have comments off on insta now, i didnt actually read the comments that much and franks have been off for ages but im positive there were people in the comments talking about frerard. i mean fuck, franks LAST tweet he qrted someone who tagged him in the replies of a pic of The Kiss. so i mean yea its definitely not a majority but it still happens extremely frequently.

this is like. genuinely really funny to me bc im sure frank didnt see it, i think he knows enough not to look at the chat for the most part. but the moral is that its 2021 and people STILL dont know how to act. i wont go on about it but it actively enrages me anytime i watch a stream. rule one of real person fandoms is keep all that shit in your fan spaces. which is actually why i prefer tumblr. none of them are on here. actively engaging in mcr fandom on twitter is too close for comfort, especially since frank follows a handful of my friends and also like. knows me.

so like moral of my most times unavoidable wall of text is that ppl are right to be frustrated with the fans who act this way. i am extremely frustrated with them. and i think for the people who have never like tinhatted or anything, this type of behavior stands out and makes an impression and becomes the like. poster child for ppl who are like 'hmmmmm but what if.' about the frank and gerard stuff.

anyway, moving on, i think a lot of peoples hang up is that they view it as rpf. which i have a couple things to say about actually. its no secret that i have read a lot of rpf. i had never heard of fanfiction until i started getting into mcr in 2008. that was my introduction. and at the time, in that community, it was completely normal. and it was for a loooooooooong time. i knew of people who didnt read fic or felt weird about it but the majority of people i interacted with DID read fic. and on top of that, the people who didn;t were nothing like they are today. we all got along. no one was like demonizing people who did read fic. in 2012 when i think mcr tumblr was at its peak, ALL of the most popular blogs were "frerardies" (hate that term). they all talked about and recced fic and a lot of them wrote it too. everyone had a boyfriends tag. anyway when i came BACK to the mcr fandom in 2016 after a couple years away post-breakup it was still like that. people talked about fic all the time and you didnt have to like, hide it in fear of being labeled as a terrible person.

i always discussed this stuff, fic and theories, openly on this blog. for YEARS. the first time i noticed the rpf shift was 2019 tbh, when my blog was suspended and i (not related) had a mental health crisis and i spent a handful of months off tumblr, when i remade on a different blog suddenly it seemed like people were like noooo you cant talk about that. ppl who read fic are disgusting. if you think something happened between them you're homophobic. i was like honestly baffled bc i didnt know how it had seemingly changed so much in a matter of like 4 months or so. but thats the society we live in now lmao.

anyway the other thing about rpf is that i think most of these people are hypocrites. bc almost everyone makes an exception for unholyverse. theyre like ok i will dabble in the most popular fic and see what its about while still demonizing the people who read OTHER fics. like ugh.

also i have noticed its an age thing. a lot of the time. almost every mcr fan i personally interact with or know, which is a lot of people, read fic, used to read fic and just sort of grew out of it, and/or (usually and) believe something happened between them. but everyone i interact with is an adult and all of my closer friends are long time mcr fans like me. i feel like the percentage of fans who are minors who are extremely anti-rpf is way higher than the percentage of adults. and i think thats just due to the fan culture we grew up with and the fact that young people a lot of times are like..it seems very performative in an attempt to be the least problematic person that ever lived.

also random side note its really funny to keep updated with this debate on twitter. they literally yoyo there. frerard is ok on a bi-weekly basis.

anyway back to what i was originally saying which was that people view tinhatting as rpf and therefor not okay. which like idk maybe i sound crazy but i also always said this when i was in the phandom and discussing like dan and phil and whether or not they were soulmates before they came out, i don't think tinhatting is rpf. or like. idk theres a part of me that can see why people think rpf is a bad thing even though if i was famous i wouldnt care if people wrote fics about me. but like. analyzying the real life things that people have done and said in public (important). in order to try to contextualize their relationship or understand that dynamic better. well i mean first of all its not fiction. but like i do think its a lot different than writing explicit bdsm fic about them.

and i know a lot of the people on here who dont like actively participate in these conversations do like. see where we're coming from. with the frank lyrics and millions and like all of that stuff. they just dont talk about it. i mean *I* have stopped mostly talking about it at all unless its vague, due to the current climate and opinion. and sometimes we'll all have a moment of hysteria where we've all decided its ok to speak about. me right now apparently.

anyway im positive no one read all of this. i need to learn how to be brief but ive been saying that my whole life. but you're right. to me its clear that there's a bigger story behind it than frank and gerard just being buddies who were in a band together. a logical conclusion. and i wish we could just all get along again instead of people being sooooo mad about it.

[unforth]

What I think a lot of antis misunderstand about the message of someone like me - as someone outspokenly pro-ship and pro-kink is...

Everyone is within their right to want to protect themselves from content that makes them uncomfortable! If you're a minor, and you don't want adults to interact with you? That's a reasonable boundary to set! Boundaries, in general, are usually healthy, appropriate, and even necessary (not always, of course, but most of the time!). Heck, I am pro-basically-everything, but I still set boundaries, and there's lots of content I support the existence of without ever having any desire to interact with myself. Like. Ever. EVER. You do you but I'll be over here, having nothing to do with it, thanks. I'm anti-censorship, and pro-fiction-is-fiction, period.

So, when people like me roll our eyes and go, "God, why are all these people making ridiculous DNIs? Don't they know how pointless this is?" we're not saying "Don't set boundaries."

You absolutely should set boundaries, for your mental health, comfort, and protection.

We're saying - okay, well, maybe I shouldn't speak for everyone - but, I'm saying, "why are people who only feel comfortable within such narrow boundaries on a website like Tumblr?"

This is the fucking anti-boundaries website! It has reblogging functions you CAN'T TURN OFF. The instant your post leaves your blog? You lose all control over it! Even if you delete the original, you can NEVER get rid of those reblogs! So if you don't want certain types of people interacting with you? Short of hard-wiring that information into the very nature of the post (like, as an enormous watermark that covers your entire piece of artwork) you will never, on Tumblr, be able to set your boundaries, enforce those boundaries, and have them respected.

It's impossible, and it's not because everyone on Tumblr is selfish, or mean, or disrespecting you personally. It has absolutely nothing to do with you! The vast majority of Tumblr users see something they like - and like it for any of a million or more different reasons - and then reblog it without every considering the existence of the original poster beyond MAYBE noticing their username at the top of the post.

They won't check your DNI.

They won't know your squicks.

They won't remember your triggers.

Tumblr is not, nor will it ever be, a safe space.

You cannot, and will never be able to, control the behavior of the Tumblr userbase in the interest of protecting your own personal limits.

It is impossible to set and maintain personal boundaries on Tumblr.

People who say, "god, why do people have these DNIs" aren't saying, "you should be comfortable with everything and if you're not how DARE you," we're saying, "there is a fundamental mis-match between your desire to set boundaries, on the one hand, and the social media platform you've chosen, on the other."

There ARE platforms where it's possible to set boundaries. Discord, Pillowfort, Wordpress, even Facebook, have more functionality for any given individual regulating who interacts with created content and how they can interact.

THIS IS NOT THAT PLATFORM.

If you want to be able to strictly police your boundaries, you are in the wrong fucking place. Anything you post on here, could, at any time, wildly escape containment, get taken entirely out of context, end up on the blog of a domme, or a furry, or a parent, or your grandmother, or, or, or.

If you want to have strict control of your content, your blog, and who you interact with?

You should not be on Tumblr.

You are just setting yourself up to get hurt...and then you blame everyone else when it happens, even though the issue is the mis-match caused by your decision to be on a website that is a total free-for all. YOU CHOSE TO BE HERE, and then you get mad...at the people already here...for not conforming to your expectations. That's a YOU problem, not an everyone else problem. It's like you barged into a Pride parade and went, "Wait why are all these queer people here? And why is there a Parade? I'd rather just hang out with my own friends in a much smaller event CALL OF THE PARADE I DON'T LIKE IT." You sound like a child, and an idiot. Congrats, there are clowns at the circus, what a shock! If you didn't want the queers, if you didn't want the clowns, if you didn't want strangers interacting with you, if you wanted to set and maintain boundaries, then you failed the instant you came on Tumblr. Tumblr is not a website designed for this. End of story.

Have safe spaces. Set boundaries. I encourage you. Heck, I beg you. Having places you feel safe and surrounding yourself with people who respect your boundaries is stupidly important, no matter how young or old you are, how vanilla or kink, how anti- or pro-ship. But it cannot be done it here, and the expectation that it CAN is what so often leads people who are actually behaving like bullies to believe themselves to be victims.

So, like, if this describes you? If you want strict boundaries, and to have certain types of people not interact with you?

The best thing you can do is leave Tumblr, and find your communities elsewhere.

I promise, everyone will be happier if you do.

(and before you say, "but all the things I want are also on Tumblr!" it is...so stupidly easy to make a message board, or create a Discord server. I'm not saying don't have fandom spaces that suit you! I'm not saying you don't belong in fandom! On the contrary, PLEASE do things that bring you joy - but do it in a way you're comfortable with! You're entitled! You deserve it! And you will never be able to here! EVER. This is NOT that space, and you and those who feel as you do should create your own. For your OWN safety, first and foremost, because you deserve a space where your boundaries are respected. And you can't here. This website is explicitly designed to prevent bloggers from being able to protect their boundaries! Expecting your boundaries to be expected here is like going to a field of wildflowers and saying, "ONLY queen anne's lace here all other flowers DNI" and being shocked and personally offended when there'sother flowers all over the fucking place. You can't control what flowers are in the field. Tumblr is a field of weeds and they will grow like crazy, everywhere, no matter what you try to do to stop them. Because that's Tumblr's nature. So STOP TRYING. Go somewhere that you CAN prevent that, and tada, you'll be safe!)

[godsperfectwomanforreal]

Okay long annoying post incoming

It generally goes without saying that Joker (2019) didn’t suddenly make me trans. Those feelings have existed in me since I was a little kid, but I didn’t have a name for them until our current culture wars started (2015-2016). I was in middle school in rural Kansas, so any talk of transsexuality was coated in conservative hate, often from peers and authority figures. I started internalizing that transphobia, not examining my feelings because of what people said. I couldn’t be bi and trans. That was too much.

In eighth grade something happened. I won’t say what, it’s no one’s business but my own. But I was the most depressed I had ever been in my life. And the only thing that could help was the book Speak. I related to that poor girl so much. I knew exactly what she had felt, all that guilt and anger and fear and not having the words to say anything. I bit my lips the exact same way. And I remember reading about how the bathroom stalls were covered in messages and wishing that I could be a girl so I could read them. I just wished I could be a girl regardless. But I was scared of that feeling. I was so ashamed of that feeling. I told myself I needed to shove that feeling down into my stomach and never bring it up again.

And for a while it worked. I got in better health, moved off the farm, and started going to cosmetology school. But I still felt trapped. And I no longer felt this deep sad longing for girlhood. Now I was fucking angry. After all the shit I had gone through in life like poverty, Islamophobia, abuse, I’d gotten really tired of being shit on. In beauty school, I was the only “man” in the building, and I was singled out every morning because of it during announcements. The lead instructor would begin everyday with “Good morning ladies. And [X]”. She would giggle when she said this. I was an other again. An other to something I have always felt more aligned with my whole life. And she was rubbing it in my fucking face. I wouldn’t admit that tho. I was supposed to be done with those feelings.

Eventually I broke down. I was so angry and so humiliated and so hurt that I couldn’t do it anymore. I left beauty school and finished the semester making the credits up with online courses.

By that point I had gotten rid of the internalized transphobia in me. My queerness and Arab-ness barred me from becoming conservative. I started actually engaging with ideas about gender again, but not applying them to myself. I didn’t want to think about it. But i couldn’t stop. After some serious soul searching, I allowed myself to accept myself for who I was. It was like dancing.

Here’s where the Joker dances in:

The movie in a nutshell is the story of a mentally ill loner chooses to stop suppressing his inner self. He does this in face paint, jokes, and murdering Wall Street executives. He is ridiculed and called a threat for standing up for himself. He takes charge of his own life in his own way.

The similarities that I find with Arthur Fleck’s (the Joker) life and my own are deep. I watched him struggle at being around others, afraid of them at first, worried that he was a nuisance and wishing people would fuck off at the same time- it spoke to me. It felt like someone saw my inner self and put it to paper. Him being a clown was symbolism for me in how being trans would look to others, but for him it was his power.

I will admit that in my later years I recognize a lot of issues the movie has (how come every time a black person comes on screen it’s to be an antagonist to a white guy?), and these days I don’t get as much out of it, but I still love how it helped me.

As for the God part, I got big into Christianity again after a long time away. It sounds nuts, but I genuinely believe God has set my life out the way it is for a reason. Even the tranny shit. and I’m okay with that.

i’m still thinking about you saying joker the movie transed your gender i can’t stop thinking abou5 it

Do you want my super fun explanation about how the incel clown movie made me a Christian Tranny

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Undercover | Mob!Steve Rogers

I saw this post  by @rosierose-e​ and got inspired to write this mob! Steve Rogers smut. All mistakes are my own. 

ALSO THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS! Love you all and appreciate the support immensely! Thank you :) 

Warning: Smut!!! NSFW choking, cockwarming, swearing

Part Two

Word Count: 5k

You squinted as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The weight of the false lashes a foreign feeling on your eyes. You felt like a clown. This was not you at all. You wore the basics: some foundation, concealer, blush, mascara and if you were really feeling fancy a lip gloss. But nothing heavy. One, your skin was unforgiving and if you went heavier than the BB cream you used you would have pimples for days. Two, in your line of work heavy makeup just wasn’t ideal. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” You looked up in the mirror to see the rookie Peter Parker getting into the van behind you. Peter was sweet, a little naive, but a good agent nonetheless. He had joined the force about three months ago and Director Fury had insisted he learn from the best, so now he was your partner for the remainder of the year. 

“Thanks, Pete.” You sighed as you straightened up, pulling the hem of the skin tight black dress down only to have it bunch up again. “I feel ridiculous.” 

“Well you don’t look it.” He handed you a cup of coffee and you took it with a grateful smile. You needed all the caffeine you could get tonight. 

Tonight you were going undercover at the notorious Red White and Blue Gala hosted by none other than notorious mob boss Steve Rogers. It was his lame attempt and pretending to be an upstanding citizen but hosting an event in honor of the men and women in service. A good cause but for a bad reason. It was rumored that more than just helpful charity happened at this event. 

 You and the rest of your team had been tailing Rogers for close to two years. Trying to get anything to tie the bastard down to all the crimes you knew his organization was behind. But he was good at his job. Leaving no trace evidence that could link any of the nefarious acts back to him. 

He was a cocky son of a bitch and you wanted to be the one to nail him. 

Peter glanced down at the watch on his wrist before clapping his hands together. “Almost showtime, partner.” 

You felt your hands get clammy as the nerves started to wrack your body. You had done undercover work before in the last seven years you’ve been a part of the force but there was something different about this one. Something more dangerous. Steve Rogers was a dangerous man. 

You turned back to the mirror and fixed your hair and makeup one last time before letting out a long breath. You again tried to pull down the hem of the dress but with no avail. You wanted badly to be mad at the catering company that you had been able to infiltrate but you knew that this was probably the work of Rogers. Sick bastard. 

You slipped on the four inch heels they gave you and you nearly stumbled into Peter as you tried to take a step. Heels. Another thing not usually worn in your line of business. 

“Okay, this is a listening device.” Peter explained as he pinned a small but beautiful butterfly pin on your right breast. You couldn’t help but chuckle as his hands fumbled as he accidentally grazed over where your nipple would be. “Sorry.” 

“It’s a boob, Parker. It’s fine.” Peter just nodded before finishing pinning it. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “It’ll be recording everything that we need and coming right back here to my feed in the van. It’s small enough that it won’t get detected by any scanners. Unfortunately we won’t be able to communicate but if you say ‘pineapple’ we’ll come in and get you out.” 

“Pineapple.” You said more to yourself than to Peter. 

“Pineapple. And I mean, Y/N. Anything starts to get fishy you get out of there. Roger’s is ruthless.” 

“I know.” You patted his shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me, rook.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He pushed you out the van. “Kick ass, partner.” 

You gave him a small salute before turning around and following another group of girls dressed just like you into the expansive mansion in front of you. 

You tried not to be too awestruck as you took in the structure of the building. It looked like something out of an old mystery novel. The entire place was dark. Dark wood and dark furniture. The lights all a dimmed tan light that fed into the mysterious atmosphere. Your eyes darted to the artwork that littered the wall, all depictions of a fall from grace. 

Is that how you see yourself, Rogers? A fallen angel? 

“Hey!” You snapped back to attention as a frantic voice called over to you. “What the hell are you doing? Get to the kitchen.” 

You bit your tongue as you glared at the rude man before following the rest of the women into the kitchen. 

Dressed all like you, there were probably about twenty other women there. All of them easily could have been supermodels. The rude man pushed you towards a group of about three of them who were all balancing drinks on a tray. 

“Grab one and go.” The man, Stan you gathered from his nametag, said before turning to another group of women. You picked up a tray and prayed to all powers in the universe that the combination of full glasses of wine and these heels didn’t cause you to completely embarrass yourself. 

The ballroom was huge. You suddenly felt very small as you wandered around the room, offering drinks to some of New York’s most high profile residents. You kept your eyes peeled for the familiar mob boss. Your heart rate sped up as you noticed him across the room, chatting with a beautiful woman. You watched as he leaned down and whispered something to her, causing her to blush before playfully pushing his shoulder. He just smirked before turning his attention to the man on the other side of him-Clint Barton, completely ignoring her now, but she still stayed by his side watching his every move. 

Pathetic. 

You had to get to him. Get him alone and get him talking. But how? 

“Well aren’t you the prettiest thing in the room.” You felt yourself stiffen as a pair of hands wandered down your back and rested on your hip. The smell of expensive cologne attacking your senses. 

Slowly you turned around to find James “Bucky” Barnes looking at you like a predator to its prey. Bucky, was Steve’s right hand man. His best friend. He was handsome. Dark hair, even darker blue eyes and a smirk, that if he was anyone else, would have your panties melted off before you could even blink. You glanced down at the infamous metal arm that was hidden underneath an expensive suit jacket, but his hand flexed slightly as he noticed you looking at it. 

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” You forced out. “Can I offer you a drink?” You pushed the tray between the two of you in offering and also creating more space. 

“No, I’m all set, doll.” He raised his glass of scotch. “Just wanted to talk to a pretty thing like you.” 

“There are plenty of other beautiful women here.” You said, your voice slightly cold. You hoped he would get the hint. 

“None quite like you.” He smirked and you fought everything in you to roll your eyes. 

“Does that line actually work?” 

Bucky took a step back at your bluntness. You see out of the corner of your eye, Rogers and Barton start to head towards the door. You had to make a move, because if he left to go do business he might not come back down for a while. 

“It was nice talking to you, Mr. Barnes.” You quickly moved past him, ignoring his short “wait”. You rushed, but not too obviously, towards where Steve was heading. If you went fast enough you could cut him off. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you tripped over your heels, the tray in your hand shooting forward and the glasses of red wine landing square on Steve Rogers’ suit. 

“What the fuck?” The room went silent at his angry outburst. You stumbled as you tried to stand up, but were immediately hoisted up when his large hands wrapped around the tops of your arms. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” You sputtered. For a moment you forgot where you were. Why you were here. His blue eyes, dark with fury, scanned your face as he held your arms. You had never really taken a good look at him. All pictures in his file weren’t anything special or high definition. But now, seeing him up close? You were beginning to understand the woman from earlier giddiness. 

He was beautiful. 

You bit your lip as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. You suddenly felt very aware of your body and the fact that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. 

“Go.” He pushed you towards the door he had been walking to with Barton. You walked through the door with shaky legs as you heard him mutter something to Barton before following you. 

“Sir, I’m so-” 

“Shut up.” He growled as he stepped through the door, the heavy wood slamming shut behind him. “Walk.” 

You hesitated. You didn’t know where he wanted you to walk to. Grumbling, Steve once again pushed you forward and you just started walking down the hallway. As you walked down you noticed a door that was slightly ajar. You glanced in while walking past and took note of the firearms and drugs that were very obviously there.

“Keep. Walking.” Steve’s voice was harsh in your ear before you heard him slam the door shut. 

“Yes, sir.” you muttered. 

The two of you continued to walk until you made it to the room at the end of the hall. Tentatively you opened it, waiting for any different direction, but Steve remained silent behind you so you continued. 

The room was...different. It was very different from the dark vibe of the rest of the house. There was a large bay window to your left that overlooked the back of the house that homed a large garden and pool. The walls were painted a soft beige and the furniture a lighter wood than the rest of the house. Even the bed was covered in a white duvet that looked like a cloud just waiting to be jumped on. It was homey. It was nice. 

“Mr. Rogers-” 

“Who do you work for?” He demanded, shutting the door. 

You froze. You tried hard to make sure your face didn’t give away anything as he stared you down. You didn’t let your gaze falter as he stalked closer to you. 

“Lee’s Catering.” You answered earnestly. 

“Bullshit.” He was now only a foot away from you. His broad shoulders heaving as he raked you up and down. “I know every single girl that works for Stan. I’ve never seen you before. So answer me again and honestly this time. Who the fuck do you work for?” 

“So he’s not allowed to hire new girls?” You snapped, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. 

Fuck. 

“Watch your tone with me, sweetheart. You’re on very thin ice right now.” He closed the final gap between the two of you and you gasped when his hand went around your throat, but not tightening enough to cut off any oxygen. 

“That old bat isn’t allowed to hire anyone that I haven’t vetted.” He hissed in your ear. You shuttered as the vibrato of his voice sent shivers straight down to your core. 

“Please.” Your voice came out in a whisper as your eyes pleaded with him. 

Steve opened his mouth but nothing came out, his nose brushed along the curve of your neck and you sucked in a breath as his mouth latched onto the sensitive spot underneath your jaw. 

“Strip.” He commanded, pushing you back causing you to fall onto the bed. 

“What?” 

“Take off your fucking clothes so I can see if you’re wired.” He snapped. You slowly pulled at the hem of your dress before drawing it up your body and over your head. Before you could fully get it off he stopped you. Your heart stopped as he reached over to the butterfly pin and pulled it off the dress. You watched in horror as he walked to his door, opening it and calling out to someone at the end of the hall. 

“Yeah boss?” You tried to see him, but Steve’s frame was blocking the small opening in the door. 

“Take this and run a test. Let me know if it’s bugged.” He demanded before closing the door. When he turned around he raised an expectant eyebrow at you letting you know you still had to take off the dress. You resumed your actions and turned your face away when his eyes flared at the matching set of red lingerie you had on underneath. 

“See? No wires.” You whispered. 

Steve didn’t say anything as he stalked towards you, rolling up the sleeves to the dress shirt he had on. Your body flushed as he leaned over you, his strong arms resting on either side of your chest. Slowly, he moved on hand to the strap of your bra before lowering it down off your shoulder. His thumb brushed over your pebbling nipple and you wanted to smack the smirk that formed on his face straight off. 

“I better double check you’re not hiding anything anywhere.” He muttered before pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing your left breast. You shuttered as his thumb brushed over it again, this time with no barrier. His mouth was hot as wrapped his lips around the bud, causing you to let out an unwilling moan. Your hips bucked up as his tongue expertly ran over your nipple. His deftly unclipped your bra and moved his mouth to your other breast and continued the same assault. His hands moved down to your hips to steady them from bucking against his growing member. 

“Hmm, looks like we’re clear up here.” He chuckled as his lips moved up to your jaw before capturing your mouth with his. 

The kiss was fiery and embarrassingly so sent a wave of pleasure down to your aching core. You moaned into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair, giving it a tight tug. Steve growled at your movements as he fully leaned into you now, his muscular thighs trapping yours on the bed. 

You ran your tongue along his bottom lip before slipping it in to find his own. You nearly came as Steve moaned into your mouth, his hands tightening on you and pulling you up to meet his rutting hips. Using all your strength you spun the two of you around, your mouths still connected, so you were now straddling his pelvis. You pulled away from the kiss and sat up. 

Steve slowly opened his eyes, his pupils blown in desire as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. You began to unbutton his wine stained shirt, running your hands over his porcelain skin when it was fully opened. You traced your fingers over the tattoos that littered his abs and ribs. You took pleasure in the fact that Steve would shiver with every pass of your fingertip. 

“I’m sorry about the stain, Mr. Rogers.” You said innocently, leaning down, your breasts pushed together as they rested on his now bare chest. 

“You should be, princess.” His voice was deep. You let out a small yelp as one of his hands gave a harsh slap to your ass. “This is an expensive shirt. And don’t even get me started on the trousers.” 

You hummed in understanding as you gave tiny kisses across his jaw and neck, taking time to suck on the skin around his collarbone. Your hands wandered down his body till they came in contact with the trousers in question. Slowly you sat up, running your hands over the stain on his pants but your eyes never leaving his. 

“I hope you can get the stain out.” You licked your lips as you moved your body down his own until your face was directly by his crotch and the stain. You sucked on the stain near his cock and smiled when his member jumped in his briefs. You slowly pulled down his pants until he was just in his underwear, his cock trying so hard to break free from it’s confines. 

Steve groaned as you finally freed his aching member. You gave the tip a little kitten lick as you looked up at him. He was now resting his weight on his arms as he leaned back and watched you in absolute wonder. You brushed your thumb across the tip, dragging the precum that had gathered there down the rest of his shaft. Your mouth watered at the thought of having him in your mouth. But you wanted to torture him a bit more. 

You ran your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, while your hand squeezed lightly at the base. You wrapped your lips around the tip, your tongue playing with the slit there before pulling back with a pop. 

“Mhmm, tasty.” You continued treating him like your own personal lollipop, but never fully enveloping his dick in your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, either fucking suck it like I know you can or I’ll shove it down your fucking throat.” Steve wrapped your hair into a makeshift ponytail and forced your head up. “Got it?” 

You didn’t respond, instead you finally took him into your mouth. You pushed past your gag reflex and took him all the way in until your nose brushed against the hairs on his naval. 

“Oh fuck.” Steve’s voice praised as he started moving his hips, fucking his cock down the back of your throat. 

Your eyes watered as you let him use your throat as his own little fuck toy. You reached between your legs trying to relieve the tension that was building there. You moaned around his cock as your fingers toyed with your clit. 

“Shit, I wanna come in that fucking pussy.” He moaned as he pulled you off the floor and threw you back on the bed. You laid back, your fingers moving back to your clit as you watched him fully take off his clothes. He watched you with interest as you moved your lace panties to the side and slid a finger up your slit, gathering your juices before gently rubbing your clit again. He ran his hands up your legs before grabbing your hand and stopping your actions. 

“This,” He patted harshly against your pussy and you moaned at the sensation. “Is mine. Don’t touch, unless I tell you to.” 

“Yes, sir.” You moaned as his fingers replaced yours. Your back arched as he dipped one finger into your hole. 

“Fuck, baby. When was the last time somebody fucked this little cunt? You’re so fucking tight, baby.” He moaned, watching as your pussy greedily closed around his finger. 

“You’re gonna feel so good around my cock, sweetheart.” Steve’s eyes met yours and for a moment he looked like a man that you might actually want to be with. His cold exterior was gone and replaced with a man who was just as lustfully lost as you were. 

“I want your cock now. Please.” you cried out as he slipped another finger in. Your body bucking as he curled his fingers up hitting that spot that so few had been able to get to with you. 

“Yeah? My little slut wants daddy’s cock to fill her up?” He leaned over you, capturing your lips again. You moaned into his mouth at his words. You never admitted it to anyone but you always had a little bit of a daddy kink. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure crashed over you. 

“Please, daddy.” You whimpered against his lips as your hips bucked against his. “Please fuck me.” 

Steve chuckled darkly, kissing you quickly again, before ripping your panties clean off your body. You didn’t even care that he just ruined the most expensive pair of underwear you owned. You just needed his cock in you now. 

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him lineup his cock with your dripping hole, slowly pushing the head into your tight channel. You both let out moans as he bottomed out. He fell forward, his forehead resting against yours. You whined as you tried to move your hips against his but he just forced them down with his hands. 

“Steve!” You all but screamed. “Please.” 

“Patience, baby.” He said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight. Squeezing daddy’s cock so good. I just need a minute.” 

You let out a humph as you continued to buck your hips against his. 

“What the fuck did I just say?” He growled, he leaned up and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Don’t be a fucking brat.” 

You opened your mouth to apologize but it was overtaken as you let out a yelp as he pulled himself out before slamming his cock back into you. You threw your head back as he fucked into you relentlessly, his hand tightening around your throat. You were in a state of euphoria as his cock dragged in and out of your walls. 

“Oh my god.” You mewl as he continues to completely destroy your pussy. Before you could process what’s happening, Steve flips you over so your face is pushed into the fluffy comforter. He pulls your hips back so your ass is in the air and he easily slides back into you. 

“Tight little cunt fucking loves my cock.” You cry out as his hand delivers a slap against your ass before moving to your hips and pushing you back onto his dick. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot. 

“Daddy!” You call out. Steve leans over and pulls you up by your neck, causing your back to be flush with his front as he fucks up into you. His other hand moves down to play with your clit. 

“Are you gonna come baby girl? I feel your pussy milking my cock. You wanna come?” He growls in your ear. “Huh? You wanna come all over my cock?” 

“Yes! Oh god, yes!” 

“I’m so close, princess.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck. “Come on, baby. Squeeze my cock, make daddy come with you.” 

You feel that familiar feeling in your tummy as your orgasm approaches. 

“Shit.” You breathe out as your orgasm gets closer and closer. Steve’s fingers move faster against your clit. You cry out as your orgasm finally crashes over you. Steve lets out a groan as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, his cum shooting inside your walls. 

“You feel so good.” He breathes as his orgasm dies down. You hum in agreement but you’re too tired to say anything else. You close your eyes as you feel Steve lower your both to the bed. You whimper as he pulls out of you. 

“I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you just give him a nod. You’re completely incoherent. Totally fucked out. He’s gone for a couple minutes and you hear the water in the bathroom running before he comes back. With your eyes closed you don’t see how he pauses at the side of bed, appreciating the curves of your body as you curled yourself under one of his many blankets. 

You whine as you feel him move the blanket before running a washcloth between your legs. “Steve?” 

“Yes, princess?” You hate that your stomach flutters at the nickname. 

“Don’t leave.” You mutter, closing your eyes once more. 

Steve doesn’t respond for a second and at first you think that he’s going to leave but then you feel the bed dip and a strong arm pulling you close. You smile to yourself as your hand lands on top of his. 

“Get some rest.” He whispers in your ear. 

“Mmkay.” you hum and you don’t know if it’s your imagination or not but you swore you felt Steve smile against your skin. 

You wake with a jolt. You glance at the clock and curse silently. You’ve been asleep for two hours. You turn over and see Steve still there, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. You find yourself staring at his long eyelashes and how they rest gently along the tops of his cheek. He doesn’t look like a scary mob boss here. He looks human. He looks peaceful. 

“I can feel you staring.” Steve opens one eye and gives you a small smile. “Like what you see?” 

You gasp as he grabs you and has you straddle his hips. You rest your hands easily on his chest and stare down at him, smirking as you feel his cock start to stir. 

“Hmmm, I love these.” His hands reach up and twist at your nipples causing you to bite back a moan. 

“Steve…” 

“And your pussy is so responsive to me, princess. It’s like it was made for me.” He rubs his thumb across your clit. “I can feel how wet you are again.” 

“Well you’re playing with my clit. Of course I’m gonna get wet.” You retort. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at you. “You really think being sassy is in your best interest?” 

You roll your eyes but don’t respond. Steve grumbles before lifting you up a bit and impaling you on his now hard cock. 

“Fuck!” You slap his chest and Steve chuckles. Nonetheless you start rocking your hips against his. 

“Nuh uh,” Steve tuts. He holds your hips still. “You’re just gonna sit here like this. Keep me nice and warm.” 

“Steveeee.” You whine, lowering your head to his chest. 

“Don’t be such a brat then.” He growls. You raise your head to look at him and even though his words are tough, his eyes are soft. And for a moment your taken back. “So sit still for daddy.” 

You groan but stay still. Steve runs his fingers up and down your back, tracing patterns along your skin and you hum in appreciation. Your peaceful moment is upended though when his phone rings on the nightstand next to him. 

“Rogers.” He answers quickly. You stay quiet as you hear the voice on the other end of the line talk about the product movement. You smirk to yourself as Steve begins to discuss logistics, completely ignoring your presence. 

“I’m a little busy, Stark.” Tony Stark? As in Mayor of the city Tony Stark? He was in on this too. “I’ll call you back.” Steve threw his phone back on the nightstand and brought your face up to his to pull you into a searing kiss. 

“Please, daddy?” You say against his lips. You start rocking your hips again and this time, Steve doesn’t stop you. 

You're a moaning mess as Steve’s hips snap up yours, your orgasm fast approaching. 

“Gonna cum already?” 

“Yes, yes! Oh god, I’m so close!” You breathe as he quickens his pace. 

“Cum, baby girl. Make a mess on daddy.” He groans, his head tipping back. 

“Steve!” You choke out as your body spasms with pleasure. Steve comes quickly after you and you shutter as you feel his seed leaking out of your worn out hole. 

You lay your head down on his chest again and try to gather your thoughts. You need to get out of here. 

“I should go.” You whisper, sitting up. Steve’s cock is still inside you and you almost don’t want to leave because you feel so full. 

“I wanna see you again.” He runs his fingers across your cheek. The sense of power you feel seeing the country’s biggest mob boss underneath you, drunk on your sex is overwhelming. You love the feeling. 

“You will. Soon.” You lean down and give him a deep kiss. “I promise.” You peck his lips once more before gathering your clothes from the floor. 

Slipping on your shoes you give him one last wink before hurrying out the door and down the hall. You manage to find a way to the kitchen without having to walk through the rest of the party and you sneak out behind a delivery man who brought in a ridiculously large ice sculpture. 

Once you're outside you take your heels off and run towards the van down the street. You hurriedly knock on the back, checking your surroundings to make sure no one sees you. Peter opens the door and he looks like he’s seen a ghost when he sees you. 

“Y/N!” He pulls you into the van. “Oh my god, I was getting worried. When we heard him say that he wanted to check the pin I had to turn off the devices so they wouldn’t get traced. And then you didn’t come out. But Fury said that you would be fine but man, I was so nervous and-”

“Parker, shut up and hand me a piece of paper.” You clapped your hands together, pulling him out of his ramble. Peter nodded and handed you a pen and paper watching intently as you started writing down everything you overheard on the phone call. 

“What is this?” 

“Rogers is working with Stark and they're moving some sort of product tomorrow.” You said proudly.

“How did you...this is huge!” 

“My Ma always said that there are two ways to get to a man. One is through his stomach and the other is in his pants.” You shrugged. 

“And I’m guessing you didn’t make him a grilled cheese sandwich.” Peter makes a face. 

“Not exactly.” You laugh. “Now let’s go. We gotta get this to Fury.” 

Part 2

[honeybee-babe]

Exposing D@isuki21, now f!v3y@h3@rtsf!ktor: toxic person in the TUA Fandom who has borderline web-stalked and harassed queer minors w/ homophobic abuse

MAJOR Trigger Warnings: Homophobia, Lesbophobia, mention of and harassment to do with r@pe, telling ppl to unalive themselves, borderline web-stalking, homohpbic slurs hurled at minors... basically think of the most abusive online conduct you could imagine

“I WISH YOU DIE DISGUSTING LESBIAN BITCH, UNNATURAL”

“"GO CRYING DIRTY AND STUPID LESBIAN BITCH"

(said to a 15 year old via Instagram DM...)

Hey Umbrella Academy Fandom. As you all know, this fandom has a lot of discourse and lets be honest, bitching and moaning over minor disagreements about a character’s sexuality, ships, inc3st, p3dophila, etc. I've had my fair sure of admittedly immature pissing contests on here over minor disagreements, as I'm sure many of you have, and I'm not trying to act like I'm perfect. I’ve made myself into a clown many times.

But there is one user in particular who is a raging homophobe/lesbophobe and has been incredibly abusive to others on this site for years....  

Go to where it says THE WORST OF IT to skip the intro if you know about her general bullshit, to see the actual borderline stalking + homophobic harassment of minors. Scroll to the very end for screenshots. 

BASIC CONTEXT:

This user currently goes by the URL fiv3y@h3@rtsf!ktor and used to go by D@isuki21, and various other iterations of that name/various others and has made multiple accounts, always to pass herself off as a different person. I have interacted with her before, and I know many individuals who have been targeted by her since at least 2020 (probably earlier), and she’s still on her bullshit. But the distinctive communication style and sheer ridiculousness of her statements makes it very clear that it’s the same person. Namely, her wording is very fucked up and full of typos and misspellings, and reads very much like a child throwing a temper tantrum. She often dissolves into overuse of emojis especially the 🤡 emoji (ironic if you ask me).

So I wasn’t going to say anything, but I just learned from my new pal @ultimate--sheep​ some new information that was the final straw, and we both decided we had to say something. 

WHAT WE KNOW:

This person is 23 years old (though she acts like she’s 15), she is a MASSIVE 5ya stan and while I’m sure there are many wonderful people who ship 5ya, this person is NOT one of them, and she gives the ship a bad rep with her incredibly immature, problematic behavior. She basically picks fights by going into “rival” ships’ tags (IE Vissy) and into the “Anti 5ya ” tag (which is obviously intended to be blacklisted by 5ya shippers and used to keep 5ya shippers from seeing it, unless the 5ya shipper is D@isuki and  is deliberately looking for a fight) and then she harasses people simply for shipping Viktor with someone other than Five.

In particular she used to go off on people who used to headcanon/perceive season 2 Viktor as a lesbian. She would also get into fights with people for pointing out that 5ya is incest/psuedo-incest + pseudo-pedophila in the Anti- 5ya tag – she got mad at me once because asked her to admit that it was at least pseudo-incest (I specified that I wasn’t judging her for shipping incest, but for denying that it was incest to begin with – you can’t have a ship called ‘Harcest’ and claim it’s not incest it’s IN THE NAME). She called me various childish nicknames, I don’t remember everything…

She harasses people and frames it as 'arguments' but it's 90% incoherent nonsense, name-calling, straw man bullshit, and then she blocks them and tells them "DNI" and makes posts to her followers AFTER she has blocked the person telling her followers vitriolic BS about how the other person is an idiot and an "anti."

HOW WE ( D@isuki & I) MET:

I don't 100% remember how we met but you can scroll through my page to find receipts. I think what happened is that she responded to someone else's post I saw describing their headcanons for the characters’ sexuality (one of those things that were like ‘Five and Luther are ace’, ‘allison and diego are bi’, ‘V is a lesbian’ etc.). The OP called pre transition Viktor a lesbian and D@isuki WENT OFF on them saying they were biphobic, etc. Her argument claimed it was biphobia but they were also complaining about why "you don't need to make everyone LGBT" which like ????????? you don’t sound like that great of an ally, hon. and it's a HEADCANON. Let people live. And when I argued that V could be a lesbian and Leonard could have very easily been comphet, she claimed that comphet “doesn’t exist anymore in the 21st century…” (I stg… i cant make this shit up)

Anyways… she frequently not only changes her url but I believe make new accounts to harass ppl through. And then she denies it when people identify her (see the below from when I recently called her out:

“Changing my username makes me crazy? Weak argument I say so myself also I’m not d@isuki-21 wow the fact you assume I’m them makes me realize you’re obsessed with them. I never block you or anyone in your anti 5ya community.”

(bro how obvious can you be…)

THE WORST OF IT:

I wasn't going to even say anything about this person, except I recently met Juno @ultimate--sheep​, who informed me that D@isuki also is on Instagram and has gotten into a similar argument with them, and then somehow found (IE stalked) them on Reddit too and proceeded to harass them on there too,  telling them they "must habe been r@ped a lot when they were a child" and that their art (Viktor w/ a lesbian flag) is "disgusting and biphobic," and told them to get "psychological help" for pointing out homophobia from 5ya shippers.

She also:

–Stole Juno's art twice (took their lesbian pride Viktor artwork and changed it to a bi flag).

–Made several abusive comments on their lesbian friends insta posts calling Vissy “disgusitng”

–Took a picture of Juno’s ex-friend’s Insta profile, who was a 15 year old MINOR (remember, this b*tch is 23 YEARS OLD) and wrote over it: "Disgusting lesbian looking for sex. Prostitute”

–Targeted Juno’s friend again on IG taking pictures of Sissy and putting stink marks on them, writing abusive things like "DIE", etc.

And the worst one… messaging the same MINOR (age 15) and telling them:

“I WISH YOU DIE DISGUSTING LESBIAN BITCH, UNNATURAL”

“"GO CRYING DIRTY AND STUPID LESBIAN BITCH"

IN CONCLUSION:

Guys.... I am a bisexual woman, and if it isn’t already clear enough, there is no way in hell that this person is “defending a bisexual character” and standing up against biphobia. This person is anti-LGBT and anti WLW PERIOD! She is a homphobe and a heinous person in general who frames herself as being an ally ONLY when it serves the 5ktor/5ya ship.

And listen, I want to be clear on this: I’m not saying shipping5ya makes you a bad person – but how can you ship something that is pseudo-incest and then turn around and call a normal ass, CANON lesbian ship “unnatural” and “disgusting?”

This is not the behavior of a mentally healthy person -- but that is not an excuse. I am asking you for your safety to report/not interact with this person if you see them/have any suspicions that it’s them. It is not worth your time and I am genuinely concerned that the stalking and harassment behavior could turn into something more serious.

SCREENSHOTS:

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Belle Of The Ball: Dark! King! Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: So this my first ever proper dark fic and I’m so nervous. I finished it but my mind thinks it’s garbage. so I’m gonna post this now when I’m feeling a random spurt of courage and am confident in my work. So here’s my masterpiece, cookies.

This is for Dark!MCU  Festive Fic swap hosted by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor  and @darkmcuficswap

My giftee is @hermesmaximoff Hope you enjoy it love!

Thanking @firefly-graphics for the dividers: both personalised and general.

There is also an amateur somewhat okay shitty poster I decided to make which is included at the end.  

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC CONTAINING DUBIOUS CONSENT BORDERING NON-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. LOSS OF VIRGINITY, ABUSE OF AUTHORITY, BREEDING KINK ALSO PRESENT.

Summary: Invited to the Royal ball by the benevolent monarch, you could barely control your excitement to visit the Capital. While you were busy admiring his prosperous reign, King Steve was quite occupied getting enamoured by you. As you try to fulfil the King’s demands, secrets find their way out.

CHARACTERS + GENRE: DARK!STEVE ROGERS X READER, SUPERNATURAL STEVE ROGERS X READER (read to find out what), ROYAL AU, HALLOWEEN THEME (I tried for the request, hope you do like it)

King Steve Rogers invites the princes and the princesses of all Kingdoms, near and afar,

To celebrate his several years of reign.

He requests thy kind and noble presence

At the joyous regale

of his auspicious ball

On the thirty first of October,

after sundown, in His Majesty’s finest castle.

Challenging thy with the unique theme of

A Halloween Masquerade Ball,

The King expects exceptional indulgence from all.

 The Most Grandiose Halloween Celebration is being organised with the spookiest of events within.

Come here if you dare.

“We have been invited to a royal party! My day couldn’t have been better!” Your elder sister exclaimed, jumping quite unladylike in your chambers, as you went through the details of the venue. You chuckled at her antics, knowing rather well that she would be scolded if someone else was present. 

“Emma, Mother has to approve first. As Lady Ava always says, don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“As if mother would really decline an invite from the King, dear sister.” She rolled her eyes at you, not letting her enthusiasm die as you pondered over her words.

Your sister had a point though, the King summoning your presence was not to be taken lightly. The invitation came up handwritten in a scroll with the King’s wax seal atop it. It was placed elegantly beside a golden mask in a rectangular black box, that bore the Majesty’s sigil on the front.  

The theme of the ball wasn’t that peculiar if you reflected over it, the renowned monarch was also recognised for his distinct interest in eerie, unearthly beings. He was known for adventuring into haunted lands, mysterious manors and sinister soils, meeting up with people rumoured to be sorcerers and occultists.

Of course, the reason for his encounters was sometimes rumoured to be because of his familial distress, how he couldn’t find a mate to procreate with and conceive his own heir no matter what. Three females, who were pregnant with a progeny of his blood, none his wife though, had died during the first two or tercet months, reason unspecified why.  

Coming to You, you and your sister weren’t actual princesses, rather the daughters of one of the esteemed Ministers in the King’s cabinet. The benevolent King, however referred to the daughters of the town, more exactly, the Kingdom, as noblewomen. He held high reverence for the females and was the sole creditor to the improved condition of the women in this era. No matter how troubled his own life was, the King was the most merciful royal to be crowned to date, his people prospering under him.

Your sister nodded eagerly to your mother, drinking in her words like the fine tea you all had in the afternoons, while you just smiled at her advice.

 When you both met your mother for dinner, you were surprised to find her already informed about the invitation. Her conformity to the celebration astonished you even more, but Emma’s zeal was starting to rub off on you too by the end of the meal. 

Your mother continued, “Your father mentioned The Majesty is looking for a wife, quite possibly. He has been insistent in trying to get a successor the correct way this time, by courting the lady who piques his interest. Even though this might be a rumour, or some gossip spun by the ladies of the Cabinet, you both should try your best to be graceful and presentable. Among the hundreds of guests, he’d be having over, on the off-chance, if Gods allow, that either of you manages to entice him, it will only promise you the most pleasant of all forthcomings. It would also do me and your father some good, if you managed to find some other suitable bachelor, from a nice background to engage with.”

Your sister had always been one with the more overactive imagination out of you two, while you had been the more serene and poised one. When she’d be out playing with the children in your town, you’d be talking to the younger toddlers, drawing with chalks on the side. For every kid she splashed with water in the nearby sapphire river, you made tots flower crowns. These were the values you both grew up with, and these will be the values you’d die with.

After days of shopping velvet fabrics and silk textiles, and bothering your seamster to make sophisticated and stylish dresses, you both neared your day of departure. After some instructions to you both to represent your father and town well, your mother bid you adieu. It was nerve wracking to not have your mother by your side, for an event as big as this was, but since you both had passed more than twenty name days, you were expected to be proper, independent ladies. 

With a heavy heart and some self, positive affirmations, you and your sister embarked on the voyage, which was filled with her chitchat.

You only hoped that the gala was as exciting as your family made it out to be. That it was just a King trying to celebrate his sovereign with some western festival integrated together. That the event would not be as unnerving and creepy as the last line of his invitation made it out to be. 

For some unknown cause, it did not sit well with you. Your apprehensive intuition made you wary of the invitation for some reason, but you let your sibling’s zest take you over. What benefit would fretting get you?

The ball was far more pompous than anything you’d have imagined in your little head. All the ideas that Emma had come up with during your journey, to anticipate the extent of extravagance for the ball, were all exceeded with tenfold finesse. You had travelled to faraway, distant lands with your parents, but the King’s mansion, with all the festivity happening, was truly a sight to behold.

Entering The Capital had been the highlight of your excursion, you were sure earlier, but well you were proved wrong. Your father greeted you both when you had arrived, eager to see his angels after almost six moons, and had ensured you both got the best of the accommodations in the well-built, enormous fort. He introduced you to several of his comrades as well as their brooding, young lads and then, left you both to rest for the main event next eve. With two maids at your every beck and call, courtesy of your father, your time went smoothly and now you found yourself at the said Halloween themed celebration, staring around in awe of every little detail that had been so meticulously handled to make the event as dazzling as it was.

The servants were dressed rather ridiculously as cats, wearing some bizarre structure resembling cat ears, horribly short black dresses barely past their thighs and some whiskers draw using either coal or makeup, you weren’t sure. It was a poor attempt to make them appear feline. However, the food was as immaculate as everything else, entirely themed like only blood red wine, candied apples, chicken pumpkins, cheesecake brain, mummy muffins, some appetizer with bell peppers as jack-o-lanterns; these were the few that met your sights.

The hall was so grand, almost the size of three jousting arenas and playing fields combined with pillars having detailed architecture supporting the place. The walls were covered in scarlet, golden and black velvet drapes, the royal colours, and beautiful masquerade masks were pinned atop them, along the walls. Almost hundred round, white clothed tables filled the ballroom, with gold plated candlesticks and utensils upon them. The entire place had entertainers progressing around, the essence of it being magicians, clowns, contortionists, palm and tarot card readers. 

In the centre of the hall, was an empty space, reserved for the soon to be ensuing dancing. An orchestra on the side had beautiful instruments, playing soft melodies for now, reserving the upscale beats for later.

You had only read a few books on Halloween to be prepared but nothing could have geared you up for this. Your small-town self was gaping at everything with a childlike wonder while somehow your sister was quite composed and calm, somehow your roles had been reversed. 

Emma was wearing a blue gown, having several layers of nets and cloth, each a different shade of azure. She tried to dress as the mythical creature called mermaid, with crystal heels and a beaded neckline. Her masquerade mask had scales like fish, made using shining sequins. She looked so gorgeous, truly managing to look captivating.

You on the other hand were dressed like an angel, which you were against, finding it too mainstream and typical and wanted to dress like an enchantress with violet and jade colours, which your mother immediately negated. On demand of your sister, she let you wear a fluffy white ball gown, and had you made wings with dove feathers, an apparatus which was astonishingly light to wear. Using her art and craft skills, Emma made you a headband with two wires attached to a metal ring, shaped like an angel’s halo. The loop at top made of some special metal that glowed golden in the dark, making it look like a real, floating halo. Your mask had a fur lining on it, and silver sparkles were sprinkled all over you, with pretty makeup on your face, courtesy of your sibling.

The change in music brought you out of your reverie, as trumpets and harps began to hum, signifying the arrival of the King on the grand staircase. He had a crimson red velvet cape descending his broad shoulders, his tuxedo underneath could hide neither his long legs nor his bulging, protruding biceps. His black, shining shoes cost more than your entire apparel, you were certain. 

As your gaze ascended his masculine form, you were mesmerised furthermore with his high cheekbones, full lips tainted cherry pink, a Grecian slanting nose, sleek eyebrows, luscious blonde hair, a thick beard and the best of all yet, cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest you’d ever seen in the entirety of your small life. The ladies beside you, Emma included, had the same reaction whether they had witnessed his Highness before or not. Every female’s gaze seemed to flicker between his azure eyes and the Golden crown resting atop his blonde locks, flooded with rubies and emeralds and gemstones you weren’t sure your books had.

For a moment you felt his eyes land on you, which surprised you even more so, that you questioned yourself about it, but his cheeky grin and wink confirmed it, make you shiver involuntarily as heat spread through your face while a titillating stir ran through you, a first for you. His impeccably white teeth were clearly visible now, showing two elongated canines, which finally gave you a sense of his attire, paired with his blush lips, A Vampire.

He spoke a few words, eyes unsteadily wavering, observing different members of the gathering. He let the dances commence, partnering with his most suitable match at the festivity, the daughter of the wealthiest lord. After the first song was over, other couples joined alongside him while you stood at the side, observing everything. Only mere moments ago had your sister been courted by a young man, the two of them shooting each other coy glances since they had entered. 

A tap on your shoulder had you puzzled, you turned around focus landing on warm, brown eyes. You recalled him to be Lord Stark’s son, Peter, having met him yesterday at dawn. His familiar brown eyes gave you sense of comfort, which you liked, not being alongside Emma now.

“Shall we?” He asked, his cheeks ruby like yours were, as he extended the palm of his hand towards you. You giggled, smiling like a little babe who got extra cookies for dessert, and accepted his hand. Sauntering to the dancing arena, you only prayed to The Heavens above that Lady Ava taught you enough to embarrass neither yourself nor your guild.

Tracing his steps and following his lead, you did manage to dance without falling, which was a surprise seeing how spread out your wings were. You and him made easy conversation, about your hometowns and interests.  You saw your Father proudly looking at you and Emma, dancing with lads, you guessed, he approved of.

As the song ended and the orchestra played a transitioning tune between the melodies, a cough sounded beside you as you and Peter stopped. Your eyes widened as you nervously curtsied beside Peter, A ‘Your Majesty” falling from both your lips.

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I share a dance with the most stunning dame here?” 

Peter politely stepped back, letting go of your waist, as The King’s wide stature more than filled his place. Your heart was beating rather loudly, blood pumping to your ears as you tried to make sense of what was happening. In your peripheral vision you could see the prying eyes of others looking at you both, ready to criticize you for one wrong move. Your father watched intently, a slight warning in his eyes to not mess this opportunity up while your sister comfortingly smiled at you. You tried to even your breaths and make sense of what he was saying, to not just stand and gape like a fool in court.

As the harmony played out, he swayed you around, lifting you up and twirling you around. Compliments spewed out from his lips, making you crimson like freshly ripened apples. You couldn’t keep up with your expression of gratitude through your words as he admired your eyes, your elegance and your ensemble which just couldn’t make him shift his eyes from you. 

After two songs had played out, he left as suddenly as he had come, with a promise to meet you later. You watched him dance with other maidens, who approached him when you were dancing together, entertaining every approaching lady like an excellent host.

You made your way to the side, hoping to get some liquor, or at least some fluid in your veins and not faint right there this moment. Emma came up beside you while you were having wine, and rubbed your back in a parental way. Her eyes communicated her understanding of how overwhelmed you felt at the instant. Her date and Peter soon came and kept you both company for the rest of the night. As duos danced and people got intoxicated, you had to call it a night on behalf of your sister, her incessant giggling make you worried for her inebriated self. 

You slipped her out before your father caught her and gave her a stern talking to and tucked her in her bed keeping a glass of water and some fresh fruits for her on the bedside wooden bench. You concluded retiring for the night yourself but only after assuring your father of your whereabouts and well beings. Before returning to the hall, you took off your wings and the halo, also opting to leave the mask behind as the fur tickled your skin. Your makeup hadn’t ruined in the heat of the hall, it was a miracle. You made your way to the Hall, hoping to find your father, assumingly drunk with all his entourage.

Two hallways before the decorated ballroom were you pinned to the wall, one hand of your attacker covering your parted lips while the other held your face delicately, with a lover’s touch. A split second was all it took for you to be immobilised by this man and another by your wavering form to recognise the cobalt blue eyes and blonde curls. When The King was certain you wouldn’t scream, his hand left your mouth slid upwards, mirroring his other hand, with thumbs in front of your ears and palms resting on your cheeks.

“Your Majesty?” You mumbled back, your voice somehow even lower, afraid for yourself and even more so terrified to offend him.

“Say, would you come for a while to my chambers, the view of the creek from my balcony is splendid.”

His choice of words gave you an option, but his eyes, almost hypnotically told you there was only one correct answer.

“You are the one, I can feel it.” He whispered lowly but your heightened senses gladly picked it up.

You meekly nodded, your inner self surprised at your body moving of its accord alongside him, as your mind started voiding of thoughts like reporting to your father, checking up on Emma. You felt like you were trapped in someone else’s form and fought with an invisible force to take over the reins of your own body.

You did not fail to notice the lack of guards outside the King’s chamber and how every entrance managed to open itself. The King wasn’t lying about the picturesque scene though, as you stood in the balcony, hair getting ruffled by the strong breeze that seemingly came from nowhere.

Your body stiffened as King Steve came uncharacteristically close to you and slid his hands around your middle, his nose nestled in your locks, inhaling deeply.

His lips descended your neck, laying feathery kisses on his path as you stood there, unable to even move your hands or turn around. This out of body sensation was broken when you felt intense pain on piercing of your skin where your head met your torso. You suddenly gained all wits and enough strength to flail your limbs around but all your might wasn’t enough to even stir the man from his task. Your throat couldn’t gather enough energy to scream, though you doubted anyone would come. You started getting light headed and only then did he stop, carrying you in his arms to his widespread four poster bed, mattress as soft as sponge and sheets as silky as butter. Too weak to fight him off, you harvested all your energy in staying conscious as your gaze danced around, trying to make sense of every object present but not awake enough to notice too many details. The wine you drank did not make it any better.

As you laid on the stranger’s bed, you felt his body sit beside you, holding your neck; leaning down, his lips meeting yours for the first time. You did not reciprocate, neither did you have the strength nor the will, while his tongue slipped inside your mouth, roaming around like a traveller in foreign land.

As the kiss drew on, you felt some energy sidle inside you, enough for your mind to function again but not ample enough to fight off the brawny thief who robbed you of your first kiss. King Steve broke off the kiss and connected your foreheads together, his indigo eyes turning black in want, leaving you a frightening and gasping mess.

He backed away, sitting more straighter now as his hand drew back from around your neck and slid along your stomach, nearing the most intimate part of your body, even though there were still layers of cloth present. His hands did not stop there, however, and made their way downwards only stopping at the hem of your gown and slipping inside.

You shrieked out suddenly, becoming aware of his intentions quite late and grasped his wrist that rested now on your knee. 

“Your Majesty, I……I can’t-”

“Do you wish to refuse your King?”

You looked down, caught in the dilemma of wanting your safety and offending him once again. Your virtue had to be preserved till marriage, your mother had taught you, but on the other hand, the King’s words were the law.

“Answer Me.” The King’s cold voice broke through your thoughts, not a shout but still scarier than a yell.“

Your Majesty, I’ve never engaged in s-” You started tearing up, lower lip wobbling and body shaking at the thought of the future. You did not see this ending beneficial in any scenario. If you lost your virtue, you would never get wed but if you refused the King and he felt insulted, your family and your connections would be in the ruins, he held that much power over you.

Cradling your face with his other hand, he began again, “You think I’m not already aware, pretty one?” The man who was reprimanding you only few moments ago upon not answering him, had a smile on his face this time: not assuring or comforting, but malicious and sinister to its very core. “I could smell your untainted scent from my room, before even descending the stairs.”

“Your e-eyes..” You gaped again as colours morphed in his eyes, red now swirling around in the pools of darkness, his words lost on you as you felt your fear rising due to the inhumane action.

“For an intellectual, bibliophilic girl, you sure are oblivious, sweetheart.” He scoffed, looking unimpressed at you, “Come on, prove to me you aren’t heedless like the rest, draw the conclusion." His eyes held yours, again altering into hues of different colours, seemingly mocking you now. 

You don’t know how the thought jumped into your head, maybe because the two holes on your neck stung suddenly or because the automatically opening doors entered your mind, the contemplation that his fangs appeared so realistic and authentic the more you stared at them paired with the blood on his collar, not just the fresh red stain of your plasma but also the burgundy stain present there, giving his lips the cherry red shade you admired hours ago on his arrival at the event.

“This is not a co-costume, no-” You inhaled a quick breath, “you are a vampire.” Your face paled in realisation while he smirked proudly, tapping your knee in a weird, twisted form of appreciation.

“Tremendous, my dear. But only half, you see. My mother was one, yes, but my father, he gave me an even better ability, he was an Incubus.” You shuddered as the words sunk in, your only worry being staying alive now, when your life was in the hands of this sex demon, having the greatest of powers and strength. Your mind did not spend any time mulling over the existence of supernatural beings, only dwelling on possible escapes now.

“That is why even your untouched body couldn’t help but react to my form and it is also the very reason, that I can read what goes on in your mind, all your memories, your hobbies, every book you’ve read, your precious sister, Emma isn’t it? So please, do not even think about fleeing if you don’t want your family to suffer.”

The threat loomed in the air, nasty sobs wracking your body as his thumb came to wipe the tears off. His hands started undoing the lace on the front of your bodice as you sniffled. Managing to quieten down just a bit, you begged, “Please don’t do this, I’ll have nowhere to go if my family found about me partaking in this unholy deed before marriage.” You had little hope about him seeing reason but there was optimism nonetheless. 

“Darling, do not fuss that I’ll leave you unhinged and deserted after finding pleasure in your body, you are to be mine now. Essentially, you already are.” His lips claimed yours again as the front of your dress slackened, bundling around your waist.

You pulled back, surprised at his promise, “You mean that?” He nodded, coming to kiss you again. You turned so that his lips met your neck, tongue licking the salt residue of tears there. “In what sense?”

“In every sense you could think of and more. I’ll give you everything, make you my queen, would you like that?” He mumbled in your neck, tongue now soothing the two punctured cavities residing there.

You could feel yourself crossing your legs involuntarily, trying to caress the abrupt yearning in your intimate part, your underclothes dousing with wetness somehow. Steve smirked in your neck, sitting upright and playing his trump card.

“I’ll marry you and we’ll rule together with the plenty of successors you’ll give me. Won’t that make your parents proud? Isn’t that what your parents taught you? Catch the King’s eye?” You meekly nodded, his charisma of an Incubus winning you over. “I’ll make your father The King’s Hand and send your mother the finest of jewels and gems, satins and silks.” He looked over at your submissive form, looking at him with the innocence of a toddler, swayed by his promises.

“I’ll let your sister have a grand wedding with the man she dears. All you have to do is surrender yourself to me and be my Queen, rule alongside me. So I ask, will you?” You cut him off, your lips pressing against his as you tried to mimic his earlier movements. He held your waist, surprised but pleasantly so, crushing the layers of the rolled top half of your dress underneath his hands. You had very little idea about what bedding someone meant but you had this primal urge to not have any skin of yours covered or untouched by him.

Steve shed his cape and threw every cloth on his torso away, almost as eager as you to get skin to skin contact. Your hands tangled in his hair as he lifted you up and sat you in his broad lap, not before sliding your dress all the way down. As he broke the kiss and took in your body, parts of you hidden under the smallclothes, he let out a growl that frightened yet excited you with another shiver down your spine. 

He made quick work of his bottoms, his cock standing and reaching his muscled chest almost and you gaped. Your sister, Emma had informed you of men’s parts being far much smaller than what you had just witnessed. His member stood erect and proud, glistening as he pumped it with his fist. His eyes drank in your surprise and trepidation, getting amused and turned on even more. 

You still laid stretched across the bed, legs straight ahead of you while your torso rested on your elbows, eyes wary of his every next movement.  He eyed your scantily clad body, gaze filled with lust and nothing more and climbed between your legs, one hand coming down on your waist while the other grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a possessive kiss, robbing you of your breath. Your mind was slowly registering the reality of it all, this was going to happen no matter what. You were going to sin by engaging in fornication. But is it really wrong if your benevolent king demands that of you?

His hand sliding from your face to your bosom distracted you from your chain of thoughts. He slid the cups of your garment revealing your nipples and took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his other pinched the abandoned one. You didn’t know if you should be more surprised at his actions or the rush of the feelings that ran through you.

He slowly released your nipple and trailed soft kisses down your stomach to your most intimate part yet, kissing it through the cloth there. His delicate touch was abruptly contrasted with him grabbing the fabric, tearing it into two and revealing you bare. 

You closed your legs out of instinct but his heavily muscled hand took them apart in a single push. He eyed you with a warning, to not obstruct him anyhow anymore.

“Let me taste that sweet nectar of yours, sweetheart. I really want to find out if it is as addictive as my senses picked it up, as sweet as the aura that surrounds you.”

And with that he dove into your pussy, his tongue roaming your wet cavern. Neither did you understand what he spoke of nor had you sister told you about the activity happening right now. But all you could do was focus on the astonishingly pleasant shivers running through you as you had an out of the body, more accurately an out of the world experience. You had no sense of the time that passed and how long you laid there clutching the silk sheets letting out mewls. But out of nowhere, something in you snapped and all your energy left you. 

As your blurry vision cleared and your eyes found his face, he licked his still glistening lips, his beard moist and wet but erotically so. He dove right into kiss again and you tasted your own sweet nectar for the first time ever. His hand roamed your body, grabbing your curves and caressing your soft flesh. 

One of his hands made its way down furthermore and spread your fluids along your folds, and then lined up himself along your hole. With a sudden push, you felt yourself being full like never before, and a sudden pain hit you as your face visibly flinched. Steve swallowed your grunts of pain with his kisses and started rubbing your bud above your linked bodies. 

The shudder that ran through you once again made you incapable of thinking, the ache slowly subsiding behind the pleasure you felt. When your moans filled the air, Steve kissed your collarbones and sucked leaving bruises there, and started thrusting again. As his movements became faster and consistent, and his callused hands rubbed you and pinched your intimate flesh, you ascended to another world. Each action of his introduced you to a new star in the wide galaxy. The same unknown descended upon you again as something snapped in your abdomen and you experienced pure bliss. 

“Going to make you the mother of my children, you will carry my seed and bring the Kingdom several heirs. This time I’ll succeed, you will be mine, my Queen in every sense.” His words made you clench around him and that was all it took for him to achieve ecstasy as well.

Your head lolled and your eyes met his sweating frame lying across the silk sheets as a sinister grin adorned his face again, “I need to fuck a successor into you tonight, you ready?”  

[vizowrites]

OOOH I GOT A GOOD BLITZSTRIKE IDEA FROM EPISODE 6!! So you know that blitz had a I'm assuming was a illusion with poorly drawn moxxie and striker, etc yea that but striker just came to save the day! Da da daaaaaa (I am morning drunk-)

I made a post about just how badly I needed this exact thing in my life so THANK YOU SO MUCH for sending it to meeeeeeeeeee!! <3 <3

Now normally I'm all for the AU idea of Striker joining I.M.P. and just kind of automatically jumping in as an official member of their unofficial family, but I have to say for this.....I actually kind of like it better if I stick more to the canon here. Striker's not a member of I.M.P., he's still got his angel weaponry and the bounty on Stolas's head to settle after the mishap at the Harvest Moon Festival, and--most importantly--hasn't crossed paths with Blitz [or any of the others for that matter] since.

He hadn't been expecting it to happen when it did that night, either.

There wasn't much on Striker's mind other than his target as he slithered his way through the servant's quarters entrance of Stolas's manor house, entirely uncaring of the numerous cameras and other security features that he passed along the way. He had it on good faith that they would just happen to be disabled that night--a pissed off royal birdie had told him so. He'd also been told exactly how to navigate his way through the house undetected, exactly which rooms to avoid, and exactly where he would find the "cheating prick" at this hour. What he hadn't been told--and what he'd deliberately chosen not to ask--was just what the Goetian Prince would be doing by the time he made his soundless entry into his study. There was a small part of him, somewhere deeper than he usually cared to try to reach, that couldn't help but think of a certain impressive imp Boss that might be involved. There was an even deeper part of him, though, that felt the sharp sting of conflict as he found he couldn't make up his mind on whether he was hoping to see said impressive imp Boss there or not, considering what he would probably be doing.

His tail unconsciously flicked once, causing Striker to coil it tightly around himself in order to prevent what would have become a full blown rattle otherwise. This was ridiculous. He was here for one thing and one thing only: he had a job to do.

A job he was fully intending to enjoy.

A slow grin spread across his face as he shrugged the strap of his angelic rifle down from his shoulder, catching the weapon effortlessly and feeling the warm sting of its power against his fingertips. He really was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself as he silently crept into the study, taking advantage of the many outrageously sized pieces of furniture casting shadows around the room to stay hidden.

Just one shot. He just needed one shot.

The flickering glow of what he presumed to be firelight seemed to beckon him, encouraging him, and before he knew it he had the butt of the rifle pressed firmly into his shoulder and his right hand hovering just beside the trigger--ready and waiting to take aim and fire. All he needed was one glance now, just enough to see where exactly Stolas was in the room, and then it would be over. The fact that he couldn't hear the owl demon moaning in ecstasy strangely pleased him at his core, confirming that he in fact wasn't enjoying the company of his favorite plaything tonight. Good. It meant he didn't need to spare a second thought for who else might get caught in the crossfire. Anyone else honestly wouldn't matter.

.....He tried to distract himself from thinking about that thought too deeply by finally taking his glance, trying to focus back on the one who didn't matter to him at all.

Instead, he found himself looking straight at the one being that did.

"Blitz--" The half-whisper caught in the back of his throat, thankfully stiffling the majority of the sound as Striker's eyes went wide. He didn't know how the hell Stolas was doing this--he didn't know this was something the Ars Goetia could do--but somehow, in the middle of what he'd previously thought was just a fireplace casting the twisting forms of light and darkness across the room, was a strange mirror-like orb that seemed to be reflecting an image to the Prince sitting across from it in one of his high-backed chairs.

An image of Blitz, tied to a much smaller chair, struggling as some strange green something started to pool beneath his feet.

What the flying fuck was happening?

"Oh darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Stolas cooed from across the room, completely oblivious to the hitman staring at him as he watched the scene unfold before him as if it was his favorite daytime drama. "Let's be extra careful about what we say from here on out, shall we? You're not going to be very happy with me if I have to come down there and take my book back from your charming daughter. Especially since that's going to delay her rescuing of you by quite a bit."

Striker didn't know what to do. There was a part of him that felt the unmistakable urge to just raise his weapon and fire, to carry on with the plan just as he'd intended and figure out the rest from there. But there was that other, deeper, part of him that had frozen, leaving him unable to look at or think about anything other than the imp that was now spilling his guts out in whatever room he was in as easily as if he'd just been sliced open.

And the vermin was there with him--apparently tripping balls as he slumped into his own chair and started mumbling incoherently.

Perfect.

"Now just what is happening here?" Stolas murmured, his voice catching Striker's attention--that urge flaring up in him again, and yet, before he could think about whether or not to actually take aim at him, he instead watched as Stolas lifted his hand from beneath his chin and gave a little wave over the orb. The image within shifted, rippling as if it were made of water, and when it finally settled again it was of something new:

Moxxie, now freed from his bonds, making his way up a marble staircase lined with candelabras towards a cape-wearing Blitz playing piano.....and they were both singing.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening??

"Ooohh my," Stolas chuckled delicately from behind his curved fingers, amusement sparking in his glowing crimson eyes as he watched the scene unfold. "Your little underling here has quite the imagination now, doesn't he? Well if his truth is this entertaining--" He lifted his hand once more, his fingertips hovering over the unnaturally glowing scene. "--I really must see yours now, Blitzy."

Don't--

Striker didn't know why he felt such a sudden surge of protectiveness for Blitz's privacy of all things in that moment, but seeing the image ripple again as it began to change had him biting his lip hard enough that he could feel it start to bleed. Just what the fuck was this asshole doing? Did he just get himself off to spying on Blitz like this?? At times when he's clearly in trouble and needing help that isn't prying into his drug-induced hallucinations??

If he'd been a better person, he would have killed Stolas then and there just to make this stop. But since he wasn't, his curiosity stilled his hands for another few moments as the window into Blitz's vison settled into view.

He didn't like any part of what he saw.

The memory of himself referring to Blitz as a "rodeo clown of a boss" came back to him with the viciousness of a bite, causing him to tense as he watched as Blitz--stumbling around in a clown costume--started getting tormented by voices and swirling figureless masses of color. The first to solidify was Moxxie, spewing bullshit that honestly Striker could barely care to keep up with, except for the fact that it was so obviously berrating Blitz for.....something. Just what the hell did Blitz care what that little baby dick had to say? He knew he was better than that.

.....Didn't he?

Striker felt his grip on the rifle loosening as he sank back fully onto the floor, his pale eyes glinting and his tail starting to vibrate hard against his shirt. He tried to muster up every ounce of his self control, willing it to stop before the rattling sound tipped off Stolas--only for his tail to go utterly still as something very similar lashed its way around Blitz's throat and threw him to the ground.

And there he was, staring at himself.

"But you don't want to do things alone Blitzo!"

Hearing himself--not himself, that wasn't even his fucking voice--say that made his blood run cold with rage. How fucking dare whoever was doing this impersonate him like this! Using him to torment Blitz like this! And Blitz was seemingly actually buying it--wait, Stolas had called this Blitz’s “truth”.  Did this mean.....was this what Blitz thought of him?? What the fuck!? Since when the hell did Blitz ever hear Striker call him "Blitzo" once before in his life?? Never! He wanted to grab Blitz by the shoulders and shake him, screaming right into his face that he would never say his name like that when he knows damn well that the O is silent! Okay, so he might’ve called him “Blitzy” when they parted ways because he was bitter over Blitz choosing to stop him from killing Stolas instead of running off with him to take down Overlords--and that was his bad.  And yeah, he might've been trying to get on his good side to have an easier shot at killing Stolas, sure, but...that didn't mean that the things he'd said to Blitz weren't true! He really did want to be partners!

The scene changed again, another set of stairs, and Blitz frantically climbing up them to try and escape the figures that were literally haunting him--Striker feeling that cold burn spread in his chest at the sight of being one of them.

Though nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of feeling that would crash over him in the moment he saw just who was waiting for Blitz at the top of those stairs.

Stolas.

You Daddy Fucker.

"Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?"

Striker's fingers clenched so hard around his rifle that he thought he was going to snap it in two, his pale gold-green eyes fixed on the sight of Blitz crawling on his hands and knees up that glowing staircase, as golden chains fastened around each of his wrists and around his neck. The rest of the voices were lost to the roar of whitenoise now ringing in Striker's ears as he watched Stolas pull Blitz willingly onto his lap, holding him by that chain attached to the collar at his throat.....

"Oh Blitzy--!"

And when he heard that erotic gasp and saw that look on Blitz's face, he finally couldn't take it.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the hallway, making a beeline for the room that he'd been instructed to go to only after he'd finished the job. Oh he was going to finish it all right. He was going to finish it slowly and painfully. But there was something even more important that he had to finish first.

He honestly didn't remember what he'd said when he stormed into Stella's room. He didn't know how long he had been there and he had no idea how he got away with being there for any amount of time without her calling for security to run in and tackle him to the ground. Most of all, he had absolutely no idea what the hell kind of reason he could have possibly given for her to locate the party of imps on Earth and open him a portal to get to them--but whatever reason he gave must've been a pretty damn good one. The next thing he knew there was a glowing blue door literally opening in front of his face, revealing a blood soaked room and the now united beings of Hell trapped between a steel door and two human fuckers who were pointing pistols at their faces.

At Blitz's face.

The shots rang out one after the other, followed by the distinct meaty thuds of two bodies hitting the floor. Striker didn't particlarly notice the fact that the portal had closed behind him the minute he stepped into the room, rendering him just as trapped as the others, but he also didn't particularly care. That bird bitch was still going to get exactly what she wanted when he got back--he would make sure of it. But for now, at least, it was enough just to be able to stride over to that face--full of disbelief and shock--and cup it tenderly in his palm.

"You ain't gotta do jack shit alone, Blitz," he said, and the sincerity of his own voice shook him from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. "You're not alone, Blitz."

He didn't know it until much much later, but hearing Striker say those words to him had made Blitz feel as though he'd just been handed the keys to his chains.