#to clarify: one of their comments did correct me on a mistake I made

[mavspeed]

hi! a daily reminder that I write fic for free because I want to and I feel like doing it. not gonna change the updating schedule, what I have planned, or any other plot details for a reader’s opinion no matter how important you seem to think imparting that opinion to me is. takes relatively little effort to leave a comment and takes even lesser effort than that to make sure that comment doesn’t come off as condescending or presumptuous to the author.

because I’m sorry but comments like THESE

aren’t gonna fly with me! just- and I’m begging here- be nicer with your local fanfic writer lmao. go easy on them. we’re doing this shit for FREE. having a bad day and coming online to see comments like these (because I have received multiple all from the same person) feels exponentially worse than it probably should

[nekoannie-chan]

The perfect trap part I

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Enhanced!Mutant!Reader X Jack Rollins, Steve Rogers X Enhanced!Mutant!Reader (platonic).

Word count: 1141 words.

Summary: The reader is in a relationship with Brock and Jack; she has the task of introducing Steve to our era, something that obviously neither of them likes, but they have no choice.

Warnings: Poly relationship, the reader is an agent of HYDRA, mentions of smut.

A/N: This was requested by @azulatodoryuga. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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2011

"Have you decided where we're going on vacation yet?" you inquired of your boyfriend as you adjusted your bra.

You were busy when you got the message from S.H.I.E.L.D., in which they told you that they needed your presence immediately at the facilities; you had to get dressed quickly.

"Y/N, there is no time for that; we must get there as soon as possible and see that none of that interferes with our plans," Jack scolded you.

You turned indignantly to see him. "What did you say?"

"Jack, don’t bother her; you better hurry up; you know that if you make her angry, she won't let you do to her that thing you like so much," Brock intervened, causing Jack to leave the room grumbling.

"What's going on?” It's four in the morning," you commented, breaking the silence in the car.

"Something too important; otherwise, they wouldn't have called us, but we're not the only ones, so it's a big deal," Brock said as he drove.

"I don't like this."

"Did you see something?" Jack asked.

"I don't have visions; I just move things around, and, well, you know... you made a sign to indicate that you could kill someone using your powers.” But I have a bad feeling."

"Do you think we've been discovered?" Jack's voice sounded nervous; that wasn't like him at all.

"If that were the case, we'd have several teams breaking into the house to catch us instead of being called in.” It's something else," Brock clarified.

"I hope we don't have to use the Soldiers," you said.

"Does innocent little Y/N want a repeat of last time?” I believe you're a sex addict," Jack teased.

"Jack, shut up; you're the sex addict," you defended yourself.

Brock Jack was waiting for the other one to agree with him.

"Sorry, but Y/N is right; I'm starting to think you really are." Brock backed you up.

"I hate you."

"You're lying, you know you love us, or do you want me to tell you what we were doing before we were interrupted?" You've already scoffed.

Jack grimaced; he knew he had lost the battle.

"Why did you come together?" Natasha asked you when you sat down next to her. It was going to be very obvious if the three of you sat together.

"I spoke to Rumlow, who lives near my house, but my car broke down and I had no way to get there," you answered. You usually made excuses, and you didn't want anyone to know about the relationship you had to avoid putting others in danger. "Do you know why they called us?" You nimbly changed the subject; you knew that she would keep questioning you if you didn't do it.

"They found someone," she answered.

"Someone? Who? "

"They're not sure yet, but they say is Captain Rogers."

"Captain Rogers? You mean, Steve Rogers, Captain America, "you couldn't believe what you had just heard; you had to tell Jack and Brock as soon as possible."

You managed to send them a text message, and they made a great effort to keep their reaction from being obvious. What was going on was confirmed at that meeting, where they explained it to you.

None of the three knew exactly the significance of what was happening, but you were beginning to imagine the consequences. Evidently, Pierce would not be at all happy, and above all, in a few days, he would also gather the agents who were on the mission to intervene with S.H.I.E.L.D.

You were startled when Fury named you at the end of the meeting; he required your presence in his office. Brock and Jack exchanged glances, somewhat panicked, and as much as possible, they stayed close to Nick's office; they were very worried.

"What do you need me for, Director?" you asked, doing your best to appear calm.

"You will take care of Rogers; I need you to help him integrate into our time; you are one of the best agents we have," Nick ordered.

"Is he awake yet?" You were trying to get as much information as you could. You, Brock, and Jack had to come up with a plan quickly.

"This morning, but I need to keep it a secret still," he replied.

You nodded, and he continued to give you instructions. Now that you were trying hard to keep from smiling, maybe it wasn't all bad news; that could mean that maybe you could move up the ranks in HYDRA.

As you left the office, you motioned for them to follow you; you were to talk in a private place where no one could hear you.

They didn't like the idea at all; they didn't like at all that you had to share your time with the enemy or what could happen; they didn't want to share you with anyone else in any way; you were only theirs.

"When are you going to start that?" Brock questioned.

"In three days."

"I don't like the idea," Brock said. He didn't want to think about what might happen; the mere thought made him angry.

"I know, Brock, but if we look on the bright side, we could get a lot of valuable information, and that would make Pierce very happy," you said.

"Y/N is right, but we'll still be close, and if he dares to touch you...

"Is the big guy jealous?" interrupted Jack.

"Pierce wants us to meet, well, all of STRIKE with him tomorrow," Brock interrupted as he saw the message that had arrived.

"Then I guess we have to make the most of the time; we don't know when we might get some alone time together again," you proposed mischievously.

Obviously, you didn't waste that night, so much so that the next day you couldn't even walk, but you didn't deny that you enjoyed it.

Day D

You knew you had to carry out your mission perfectly, although now that Pierce has found out about Steve, you feel more pressure.

"You know you can call us whenever you need us," Brock said, then gave you a kiss and a little box with a necklace he had bought for you.

"We'll be waiting for you; everything will be so boring without you," Jack said as he kissed you on the cheek.

You had never been separated for more than a month, but somehow you were going to get Steve to be part of HYDRA; somehow you would convince him without him noticing.

With the Soldier and the Captain on your side, the world would be yours.

You took a breath of air before knocking on the door, and you opened it slowly when you heard you could come in.

"Captain Rogers, I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. I'll be in charge of helping you integrate into our time. Nice to meet you."

[meitoscringe]

I can't believe I must do this so early in the morning, especially on this account that I was trying to keep up for more important issues, but people have been lying about me as of late and I'd like to correct (without starting an argument just a few things!)

As a reminder my native language is not English so if I make a grammatical mistake sorry

@miyuecakes made a post responding to an anon my friend sent (while claiming she had sent 2 with no evidence). I'm not here to talk on that as I am not my friend, did not she had sent it until it was to late and I'm not Muslim. What matters is that she used my account to send this anon and that miyue was hurt.

After that, people started to spread lies in the comment section and I'm only here to clarify

@tianshiisdead

(the screenshots aren't the best sorry)

I was not using the word drama in a bad way, but I don't know how else to word it? Discussion? Argument? I've also been struggling with issues myself and did not want to mess things further. Regardless. I did not want to be involved.

If this was a situation in rl and my friend said something mean to a person I did not know would I need to apologize to them? I take responsibility that it was sent trough my account but I cannot control her words. I cannot take responsibility for something I did not do.

I cannot speak to miyue directly because I don't know them and their account is set so that nobody that they don't follow can text them. I quite physically cannot. I dont know their other socials and did not want to invade their privacy I also, did apologize. But I'll show that later

I did not send harassment, my friend sent one anon worried because she felt disturbed. It's also a lie you didnt know

This is the conversation me and tianshii had

I did apologize, I had already explained the situation, you did know what happened. I didn't reach out because I couldnt and since your friend was doing bad I did not want to post stuff publicly. Why lie? I have no problem with your friend replying to my friend's ask. It's her right to defend herself . And I'm sorry she was hurt. But I've done what I can.

Do you want me to apologize or do you want me to beg for forgiveness about words I did not say? This was 2 months. We're you keeping "dirt" on me?

@luyous

Id also like to reply to this!

My friend had the password to this account way before she sent that as when I made this account I was going trough some bad stuff and decided that it was best to give someone I trusted my password to make sure I wasn't doing stupid shit on here (pro ED stuff)

I repeat my friend sent 1 ask. It was not harassment. I'm sorry that it happened and that she hurt yiy but I can't take back words she said.

I don't know miyue, I have nothing against her, I don't know her story and I don't mind that she defended herself.

I simply don't want to be involved as the perpetrator when I wasnt. Please stop lying about me as I have not lied about you.

[monako-jinn-stories]

Crosshair X Fem!Reader FanFic

It Started with a Vacation

Main Master List

Story Master List

Chapter Thirty One (PG)

Chapter Thirty One (18+)

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Two

The halls are quiet as you walk through them in the early morning. Bright, warm beams of light from the sun filter in through uncovered windows. You suppress a yawn as your feet try to drag, but you snap yourself out of it as soon as it happens. You just have to make it to your bedroom before you can collapse. It’s not much further…

As soon as your head meets your pillow, you’re out like a rock. Hours later, when Codo and Cyar’ika are at your side, trying to wake you, you still don’t move. They exchange confused looks before shrugging and heading outside to play in the courtyard. 

You finally wake up when Tayah wanders in, and she looks down shyly when she notices you’ve woken up. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says quietly, “but I was hoping for some help.”

You glance over to the chronometer on your nightstand before your eyes go wide and you push yourself up. “Don’t apologize, Tayah,” you say, “it’s about time I got up anyway.”

“Your clothes are dirty,” she comments, furrowing her brows as she looks at the stains on your pants. “You got it on your bed.”

You look down at your sheets before smiling and giving her a pat on her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had to sleep on an actual battlefield before,” you assure her. “I’ll wash them later. What do you need help with?”

“My garden,” she sighs, swinging her arms at her sides. “It’s starting to die again.”

You examine her for a moment before standing and resting a hand on her shoulder to guide her along with you. You don’t care to change clothes just yet, instead deciding to take her right outside. Plus, if you’re going to be in the garden, you’ll likely get dirty again. 

As you walk, you feel some conflict coming from Tayah’s mind, and you try to figure it out before deciding to just ask her about it. “There’s something on your mind,” you comment, and she pauses for a second before nodding. “Tell me.”

“Well…” she starts, playing with the ends of her lekku, “it’s Ringo.”

“Ringo?” you question, stopping to look at her again. “What about him?”

“I don’t know, something just feels bad,” she admits. “I know I’m young, but I still know when to sense danger. Plus, I’m a Jedi!”

“No, not a Jedi,” you correct, “just a force user.” She kicks at the ground when you say that, and you clear your throat to regain her attention. “It’s not a bad thing,” you clarify, “not all force users are meant to be Jedi. You don’t seem to fit the mold. It’s okay to be different, it’s admirable, even. The only thing that kept me as a Jedi was the hope of making my father proud.”

“Codo?” she asks, and you shake your head. “King Monako?”

You snort at that, letting the words slip right from your mouth as you respond. “Hells no. I couldn’t give a kark what that dirty maggot thought about me. No, I cared about making Qui-Gon proud. I didn’t want to be viewed as a mistake, and though he never said I was, it’s hard not to think of myself as one. Especially with having learned about my birth, and who my mother had been.”

“Did you ever meet him?” she asks, looking up hopefully at you. You give her a small smile and nod, looking ahead again.

“Once, about twelve years ago. Before the Sith attack on Naboo where he died, he had come here to meet me. I was seventeen at the time, and only a few days later is when he was killed. Fortunately, I was able to attend his funeral and got to give my final promise to him.”

“What was your promise?” she asks curiously, looking up at you expectantly. You turn your head, facing straight ahead as you take a step forward.

“I promised to do good by his name, and to keep his life in the stories for future generations. To make sure he is never forgotten as the brilliant grey Jedi he was. Like you, he was different, and it made him stronger and unique.”

Tayah follows silently behind you for a few moments before stopping again, and you turn to look questioningly at her. “There’s something else…” You nod for her to continue, and she keeps her eyes down as she speaks. “I feel a pull. And I hear a call whenever it’s quiet. I also have dreams of…darkness.” She steps ahead of you before kneeling at her flowers. “And when I try to use the force, it works, but then I can’t stop using it and it just…” She trails off, and you move to watch her as she reaches her hand out and uses the force to grow a beautiful flower, but then you see her lose control, and the flower grows too big and shrivels up and wilts before it dies.  As you watch, you can’t help but step away from her slightly, feeling the darkness coming from her. She turns to see the fear and concern in your eyes, and her own expression goes fearful. “Aunt y/n,” she whispers, looking up at you pleadingly while holding out her arm. You instinctively flinch away, but also feel your legs turn weak as she croaks out her next words. “Help me. Save me.”

“I can’t,” you reply almost wordlessly, “I…I don’t know how. I could take you to the Jedi temple, but even then…” You shake your head and close your eyes, letting out a deep breath before looking at her again. Her eyes seem to be unusually golden around the edges of her irises, and you feel the blood drain from you. “When did this start? What are your dreams like? What do you feel and hear?”

She shakes her head, backing away slightly. “I don’t know,” she replies, “they’re dark. I see a dark figure, and a hand reaching towards me. I wake up and feel like I can’t breathe. And then I hear a dark chuckle and someone saying my name. It’s scary,” she says, tears starting to flow. She leaps forward and clutches to your shirt, her eyes pleading as she cries out to you, “I want it to stop!”

You regret your next moves, but it’s like you can’t control yourself. Instead of holding her close and comforting her, you’re overwhelmed by the darkness that exudes from her, and you push her back with the force. Your own expression matches her look of shock, and tears spill down your cheeks as well. “Tayah…” you say, falling to your knees and holding your head in your hands, “I’m so sorry…I’m…I’m just so sorry…I want to save you, but I…” You shake your head, swallowing before looking back up at her. She’s sitting on the ground across from you, her tears silently flowing down her cheeks. “I-I can’t help you…I’m not that kind of Jedi. But I fear you…you’re…” You can’t finish your sentence, and instead hit your wrist comm to contact Codo.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” he asks instantly.

“Have you known?” you reply, and silence follows for a second. 

“Yes…but I had hope that you could-”

“You know that’s not how it works,” you whisper, remembering the story of Dooku’s turn. “You know I can’t do it, either.”

“What about Ringo?” 

You look back at Tayah, watching her closely. “Do you want to see your brother?” She immediately lights up and nods her head furiously. “Alright,” you say before speaking into your comm again, “I’ll bring Ringo when I come back next week,” you say to both of them, “we can celebrate together, as a family.” Tayah nods, and you wipe the tears from your eyes before reaching forward and gently wiping away hers. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper again, cradling her cheek in your palm. The darkness has calmed, but you can still feel it lingering. “I hope this will help you,” you say before standing and reaching out for her. “Unfortunately, until then, we’ll have to leave your garden as it is.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, looking down shamefully. “I’m sorry I’m not good anymore.”

“No, Tayah,” you quickly correct, “you’re still good. You’re just…being influenced in a bad way. Ringo will help, I promise.” She just nods again and sniffles before silently leaving your side. You watch as she goes, and feel your heart growing tighter. You can tell she’s already too far gone, but maybe, just maybe, Ringo will bring a bit of her back.

After Tayah heads inside, you decide to go find Codo and Cyar’ika, wanting to discuss something more positive. You also haven’t gotten to see your daughter yet, and can feel the anticipation building as you wander around the palace grounds. Ever since Tech had told you it’s possible that she’s growing at an accelerated rate, you’ve been more worried about missing important parts of her life. But you are kriffing sure you won’t miss her first birthday, and you’re going to do everything in your power to ensure Crosshair doesn’t miss it either.

When you find them, Codo seems to be slightly occupied with his thoughts, and you can tell he’s regretting not telling you about Tayah. It doesn’t matter to you, though, because however you could have found out, hearing it from her and realizing it for yourself was probably the best option. “Hello, my little princess,” you say as you bend to pick up Cyar’ika. She grins at you, and you are amazed by how many teeth have already filled in. “Hello, Codo. It’s good to see you, and not just hear you,” you joke, and he snaps from his thoughts to smile at you.

“She’s quite the little weed,” he says, “growing so fast.”

“Well, she gets that from her father,” you reply, “or at least that’s what Tech theorizes. I was going to have some doctors and scientists look at her. We have a Kaminoan here who fled Kamino as well, and I’m sure he’d be willing to help.”

“Ahh,” Codo sighs, “that would be a good idea. And it would explain some things, like how she’s cognitively developed faster than normal as well as physically.”

You smile down at her, and she wiggles from your arms to go back to playing with her toys in the grass. “Her birthday is next week as well,” you comment, “I’m wanting to have a little party for her to celebrate.”

Codo nods, watching his granddaughter as she bashes her dolls together. “So that’s what you meant by celebrating. I think it would be a wonderful idea.”

“I want Crosshair here as well,” you add, and you can feel the shock instantly come from Codo. “He deserves to know, and it’s already been almost a year. It’s just so unfair, and it would also be an amazing gift for her to finally meet her father.”

“What about the others?” he asks, and you shake your head no.

“The less people that know, the better. Besides, Tech wasn’t even supposed to figure it out. But there’s not much you can hide from a genius.”

“That is true,” he agrees. “Well, I support the idea either way. But you have to find out how to do it gently.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “that’s the hard part. I have no idea how to even begin to explain things, or how he’ll react. It’s all so…difficult.”

“Most things that are this important are going to be difficult, unfortunately,” Codo replies, “but I have faith in you.”

“Thank you,” you say, leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder as the sun warms you. “And thank you for being here so often, giving her a love that no one else could, and helping her grow. I just hope I won’t have to surrender her to the Temple when she’s old enough.”

“I have a feeling things will be different when she’s of age,” he comments, and you lift your head to look at him curiously. “I can’t explain it, but…don’t worry,” he says, smiling at you, “it will all end up being okay in the end.”

“I hope so,” you sigh, resting against him again. “I just want us all to be together, as one family.” Codo remains silent, and you both gaze lovingly at your daughter. You don’t know the thoughts he has, but something is telling you that he’s holding back. Hopefully it’s for the better, and nothing to worry about. The galaxy does have a feeling of change, and it’s only getting stronger each day.

~~~

The second they walk into the bar, all eyes are on them. The patrons turn their heads to look at them with disgust, and one even spits on Wreckers armor. Before he can lunge at them, Hunter grabs his arm and shakes his head. “Remind me why we had to come down here,” Wrecker grumbles, and Tech adjusts his goggles while glaring down at everyone in the room.

“Because, we need to gather important intel, and apparently no one else is cut out for the job,” Tech answers, and Crosshair scoffs behind him.

“No one is as threatening as we are, either,” he says coolly, snapping his eyes to a Nautolan woman who is giving them a sneer. He sneers right back at her while adjusting his blaster on his back.

“We don’t welcome your kind down here,” the bartender speaks as they approach him, “what do you want?”

“We’ve been sent by the Republic to gather information,” Hunter replies, “we were told to come down here and ask to talk to a man named Calrissian.”

“Ahh, so you are the real deal,” the bartender replies, “I’m wondering why they didn’t send a Jedi down here.”

“It was ordered directly by Chancellor Palpatine,” Tech butts in, “he works separately from the Jedi.”

“So I’ve heard,” the bartender replies before straightening up and waving them to follow. Crosshair reaches back to grab his blaster, taking place outside the door that Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech walk into. Normally, Wrecker would stand guard outside, but Hunter changed plans last minute, and Crosshair is now the one stuck with the hostile crowd.

“Ya know, I’ve never seen one of y’all’s type up close before,” a patron says, stumbling over and sloshing his drink. “You look a bit different than I expected.”

“I’m not your standard clone,” Crosshair responds flatly, “I’m special, like the others I came with.”

“Well,” the man chuckles, “that explains why you don’t look similar. So tell me, Mr. Special, do you know what your purpose is?” Crosshair feels his body go rigid at the question, and he nearly snaps his toothpick with how hard he bites down on it. “Well, do ya?”

“Ah, leave the guy alone,” the Nautolan woman says, “he’s not worth it.”

“Come on, babe, someone should tell him,” he replies before narrowing his eyes at Crosshair. “You have no purpose, other than to be an expendable weapon,” the man whispers, before yelling the rest. “You’re useless! You have no point to existence other than to die for the Republic! You have no value, no worth!” Crosshair resists the urge to bite back, instead just glaring down at the man. “What, you got no retort?”

“What am I supposed to say?” Crosshair asks quietly. “Am I supposed to talk back? Argue that you’re wrong?”

“Ha!” the man barks out, “you don’t even see worth in yourself. It’s ‘cause you know I’m right. See, you’re not like us, normal sentients. We have purpose, we have value and a reason for life. Hells, we were born, and not formed in a little test tube.”

“What is your purpose, then?” Crosshair questions, and the man grins at finally getting some snark.

“My purpose is to be a man, to raise a family, to protect them. Something that you’ll never know. I get to find someone who loves me, while you get to die for a Republic that hates you.” The words sink deep, and Crosshair’s fingers twitch on his blaster. “Surely you already knew that you’ll never have a family, that you don’t deserve to have a family,” the man taunts.

“Mik, cut it out,” the Nautolan woman says, grabbing his arm now, “I don’t want you pushing him to blast you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, he’d get court martialed for it,” the man, Mik, replies. “They’d kill him for killing a civilian.”

“And that’s the only thing that is protecting you,” Crosshair snarls. “And you’re wrong. I have found someone who loves me, who will gladly have a family with me when the war is over. When we both come out alive on the other side, I’ll make sure to come back here with her and our future kids, just to show you that you were wrong.” Mik laughs in Crosshair’s face, and the Nautolan uses his distraction to pull him away.

“You talk boldly for a simple minded being such as yourself,” Mik calls as he’s dragged away, “but I happily await your return. And if you don’t, then I’ll just assume I was right about it all.” 

Before Crosshair can give another retort, the door opens and the others walk out. Hunter takes a look around the room before motioning for the others to follow him as he weaves his way out. Mik spits on the ground in front of Crosshair as he passes by, but the trooper just ignores him and keeps his face forward, not wanting to give the man any more of his attention.

“You seem tense,” Hunter says to Crosshair when they return to the Coruscant barracks, “something happen at the bar?”

“You could say that,” Crosshair replies, rolling a toothpick between his teeth.

“Care to elaborate?”

Crosshair stays silent for a few moments, debating whether or not he should share his thoughts. “I think it’s best I just try and forget about it. It was just a civvie being a piece of bantha fodder anyway.”

“Well, if it keeps eating at you, we’re all here to listen,” Hunter says, “we’re brothers, and we stick together.” Crosshair looks at Hunter and nods before shifting to lay down on his bunk. “You still seeing y/n tomorrow night?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“Well, try not to be in a sour mood, then. You guys have been arguing a lot, I don’t want things to get worse.”

“They’ve all just been misunderstandings, we’re fine,” Crosshair counters.

“Either way, I like you guys better together and not mad at each other.”

“I do too,” Crosshair mumbles, and he sighs before closing his eyes, waiting for the familiar nightmare to begin.

The second the chrono hits 1900, you jump from your bed and run to the elevators. You anxiously wait as it descends to the hangar, practically bubbling with nerves and anticipation. As soon as it stops, you step forward, cursing when the old thing takes forever to open. Once it finally does, you take only a few steps before crashing into a familiar chest. You look up and all your worries seem to wash away as Crosshair stares down at you with a cocky smirk.

“Someone seems like they were eager to see me,” he chuckles quietly, and you wrap your arms tightly around him as he returns the gesture.

“You could say that,” you mumble, earning another light chuckle from him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you as well, my cyar’ika.” You pull back and grin up at him before grabbing his hand and pulling him into the elevator as it’s about to close. “Are we not getting food?”

“I already picked it up,” you reply, “I don’t want to spend too much time out, I just want to be with you.”

He smiles softly down at you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I like that plan.”

“Good,” you reply, stepping away and grabbing his hand as the elevator reaches the right floor. “I hope you don’t mind that I just ordered a meal for us to share. It was the big combo meal at Dexter’s.”

“That sounds alright to me.”

“I also have dessert, and a surprise for you afterward,” you add, and you feel Crosshair’s interest pique.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah. Well, kinda. It’s hard to explain, but I think you’ll be happy with it. I at least hope so.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it, whatever it may be,” he assures you. You nod, feeling the nerves coming back, but you push them from your mind, just wanting to make sure you get to enjoy your night.

“How has everyone been?” you ask when you walk into your room.

“They’re fine, Tech recently had to get his goggles replaced. He wasn’t too happy about that.”

“Did they break in battle?”

“Yes,” Crosshair confirms, grabbing a shawda club sandwich, “he’s had that pair since we were first sent out. It’s like Hunter’s headbands, he was attached to it.”

“And you with your blaster,” you joke, and he rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny the comparison. “Do you ever wonder if there could be someone out there that you’d hold onto for as long as you could?”

Crosshair stops eating for a second to look up at you in confusion. “What do you mean, princess? I already feel that way with you.”

“No, I know. I meant outside of me,” you clarify, “like maybe a kid?”

Crosshair stares at you for a moment as his mind goes back to the previous day at the bar. The words from Mik rattle through his head again, and he has to clear his throat and shake his head to snap out of it.

“You don’t?” you ask slowly, and he snaps his eyes up to you again.

“No, I wasn’t shaking my head no, I was pulling myself back,” he says, “but…I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll even survive the war. Kids aren’t really on my mind right now.”

“Well, hypothetically,” you say, wanting a solid answer. “Like let’s say we do both survive, and can be together. Would you want kids?”

“I don’t think we should talk about this just yet,” Crosshair counters, taking another bite.

You swallow before looking down, setting your sandwich on your plate as you think of how to edge the conversation further. “Well, I for one would like to have them. At least one, maybe two. I don’t think I could handle more than that.”

“It would be your body doing the work,” he agrees, “so however many you would be comfortable with.”

“What gender would you want them to be?” you ask, resting your chin in your hand. “Of course, we won’t push it on them if that’s not how they feel.”

“I don’t know,” Crosshair replies, his walls going back up. “I don’t really think we have a choice in the matter, either way. Besides, we need to keep our minds on the war, not on a possible future family.”

“We can take one night to think about it though, can’t we?”

Crosshair shakes his head, wiping his hands off after finishing his sandwich. “If we start talking about it, then it will linger on our minds.”

“Alright,” you sigh, “ you win.” You grab the plates and set them in the sink before beginning to wash them. “There’s something else on my mind, and I don’t know what to think about it.”

“If it’s about kids-”

“It’s not,” you cut in, “Well, at least not ours,” you add. “It’s Tayah.”

“Tayah?” he questions, moving to lean against the counter next to you, “what about her?”

You swallow hard and take a few moments to decide if you should tell him or not. Sure, she’s just a kid, but he’s a trooper of the Republic. Dark side force users are a threat, and you don’t want him to have to do something about her. “She’s…going down a bad path.”

“How so?”

“It’s…I don’t know how, but she’s…” You shake your head, unable to believe it, let alone say it. Crosshair patiently waits, not wanting you to get overwhelmed. “I can feel darkness within her, and she knows it’s consuming her.” Crosshair stiffens beside you, his eyes not leaving your face as the words set in. “She told me she has these dreams…someone calling out to her and trying to grab her. And she wakes up unable to breathe…She says there’s something pulling her, something dark.”

“Is she a Sith?” he asks, and you immediately shake your head.

“No, but she’s…she’s got a dark influence. If she’s not saved, we might lose her.”

“How do you save someone who’s getting pulled to the dark side?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, gripping the sponge tightly, “I don’t know how to save her. I don’t even know how to help, or comfort her. Crosshair,” you say, turning to face him, “she reached out to me, she clutched onto me, and I shoved her away! I can’t even be close enough to hold her. It’s…it’s consuming her completely. I don’t even know if anything can help her at this point.”

Crosshair’s gaze remains steady, but you can feel the concern and conflict in his mind. “How likely is it that she tries to hurt you? Or anyone else at the palace?”

“Not likely,” you say, shaking your head, “but still…the rims of her irises were golden. I’m…I’m worried it’s too late.”

“You’re still going to try to help her, right?” he asks, and you nod.

“I’m going back to Dohbar next week, and I’m taking Ringo to visit. I’m hoping he can help her,” you explain. “And I was hoping you could come as well. It’s…well it’s the surprise.”

Crosshair tilts his head curiously, raising a brow in question. “Is it the project?” You nod in confirmation, and he unfolds his arms to grab a toothpick. “Is it safe?”

“Honestly, probably not,” you admit, “but I don’t think it would be fair to keep it from you for any longer. It’s going to be a year since it was…partially completed. We’re having a celebration, and I want you there.”

“And the others as well?”

“No, just you,” you reply. He nods and watches as you set the plates to dry before walking over to sit down on your couch. He follows silently, taking his spot at the end and letting you slide into his arms. “Do you want to watch a holo video?” you ask, looking up at him.

“If that’s what you want, cyar’ika, then I’ll be happy to.”

You roll your eyes and let out a small snort. “This isn’t ‘my night’, you know,” you tease, poking his nose.

“I want to let you make the decisions, though,” he replies, “my mind is too conflicted right now.”

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“No,” he replies, shaking his head, “it’s best not to.”

“Alright, but if you decide later that you want to, just let me know.”

“Of course, princess. I’ll tell you if I need to.” You decide that his response is good enough and turn to start watching something. But your mind isn’t on the holo playing in front of you, it’s busy trying to figure out more ways to get Crosshair to talk about children. You need to know how he feels about having them before you drop the daughter bombshell on him.

A shift from Crosshair pulls you from your thoughts, and you look back at the screen to see that the holo video is over. “That was kind of boring,” he comments, and you nod.

“I wasn’t even really watching.”

“What were you doing? Thinking about a handsome man?” he teases, and you give a small smile before shaking your head. He stands up as he speaks, making his way over to the table to grab a snack.

“No, I was thinking more about the future,” you admit while following him. “I think you’d be amazing with a daughter-”

Crosshair slams his hands down on the table, the action cutting you off as you’re startled by his sudden anger. Your eyes widen more when you see his expression as he turns. “Stop!” he yells, “stop with this nonsense dreaming!” He shoves a finger towards you as he speaks, and you step back instinctively from him.

“What are you talking about, Cross-”

“I’m tired of hearing about this stupid fantasy that you have in your head, that there’s going to be something for us after the war! That we’re going to get to have a life together!”

“I was just trying to talk about a future possibility,” you counter, trying to remain calm.

“Why can’t you see the truth,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What truth is that?”

“That after all of this, we’re going to be nothing!” he yells, motioning between the two of you. “Why can’t you just accept it and stop talking about what you want!”

“I was trying to figure out if it’s what you want as well,” you explain, barely fighting back the anger.

“This, us, it’s all pointless!,” he yells, throwing his arms out. “There’s no point to it other than comforting each other through the agony of this war. Once it’s all over, then we will be too!”

You stumble back, the words hitting you harshly. You’re not able to believe what you’re hearing, this isn’t like the Crosshair you love. He shakes his head, running his hands through his hair as he continues to yell. “When this war is over, you’re just going to go back to being an all high and mighty Jedi and queen, and us clones are going to be forgotten or turned into some stupid guard force. We won’t be needed anymore, while you will still have a purpose!”

“You will still have purpose-”

“What purpose? We’re just weapons created for this war. We’re grown in tubes until we’re old enough to start being indoctrinated by the Kaminoans! While we’re put to more grueling work, you’re going to be back to sitting on your little throne, enjoying luxury, while we’re sent off to do Maker knows what!”

“That’s not how it’s going to go,” you retort, letting a bit of your anger come through, “you know I, and many others, won’t let that happen!”

“You won’t have any influence over it!” he spits, “And your stupid fantasy of us being a happy family will never come true! So just get over it and move on!”

“You know what, then fuck you!” you yell, “If you think that this is all going to end up being nothing, then I’ll make sure that’s how it ends. Fuck you,” you say, stepping forward and shoving your hands into his chest, pushing him backwards. “Fuck every moment we ever shared, fuck every hope I thought we both had, fuck every dream I had of our future! And finally, fuck this relationship! It’s over!” you scream, tears starting to build in your eyes from anger. “Have your fucking lonely life that you so obviously want to have! And leave me the fuck out of it!”

When you finish screaming, Crosshair stares down at you blankly for a few moments before turning and grabbing the things he had discarded on his way in. Silently, he opens your door and leaves, and you slam your hand onto the button to close it. Once you sense he’s gone far enough, you finally let the sobs hit you. You fall to the floor and bring your hands up to your face, crying helplessly into them as reality consumes you. When you pull them down to look at them, you’re shaking uncontrollably.

Without thinking, you jump up and run to your bedroom, grabbing the essentials before wiping your tears and leaving your room. You rush to the elevator and run to your starfighter, taking off in record speed, nearly hitting the ceiling as you fly out. It doesn’t take long for you to weave in and out of the flying lanes, speeding closer to the edge of the atmosphere.

“Woah, what’s that?” Wrecker says as he looks out of the viewport as you pass by.

Tech looks up and adjusts his goggles before responding. “It appears that y/n is heading off in a hurry. I would make a guess that she is headed back to Dohbar.”

Hunter looks out of the viewport as well, watching as your ship starts to disappear. “Why don’t you try and contact her?” he suggests, to which Tech nods and reaches forwards to turn on the comms.

“Y/n,” he states, “it’s Tech. We’re wondering where you are off to in such a hurry.”

When you hear Tech’s voice over the comms, you reach forward and almost answer, but then you remember Crosshair is likely in the ship with them now. Instead of responding, you block the transmission from the Marauder and fly towards a transport ring.

“What’s going on? Why isn’t she answering?” Wrecker asks, and Tech furrows his brows.

“It appears as though she has blocked our transmission,” he explains before sitting up straighter and looking back at Crosshair, who had just entered the cockpit. “Do you know where y/n is off to in such a hurry?”

Crosshair stiffens and looks away, sitting in his seat as he grumbles out a response. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

Tech snaps his head to look at Hunter, who wears a similarly confused expression to his brother’s. “Is everything alright, Cross?” Hunter asks, leaning forward a bit in his seat.

“It’s fine,” Crosshair replies coldly.

Hunter exchanges another glance with Tech before pushing a bit more. “Do you want to talk about it?” he pries, and Crosshair snaps the toothpick in his mouth.

“I said it’s fine, so leave it alone,” he snaps before getting up and storming out of the cockpit.

“I think something happened with him and y/n,” Wrecker states, and the others nod in agreement.

“Maybe they are just in another argument. I’m sure it is nothing serious,” Tech says while shrugging. He doesn’t quite believe his own words, but he hopes that they’re true. 

Hunter looks out of the viewport again, watching as you take off into hyperspace. He doesn’t think it’s just a fight, he feels as though this is something more, something bigger. It’s unlike you to ignore them, and for Crosshair to suddenly act this way. Sure, he may not be the most open person, but he always shares when something is wrong, unless it deeply affects him. 

You barely finish landing in the hangar before you jump out of your starfighter and run to the palace doors. Fresh tears stream down your face as you run inside, sprinting towards the person you need the most. You find him in the halls, looking out of a window as the stars shine above. 

When he senses your presence, he turns to you with a look of concern on his face. You don’t say anything to him, instead just running into his arms, wrapping your own tightly around him. He holds your head against his chest as you cry and shake with each sob you let out.

“My child, it’s okay,” he says gently while rubbing your back, “I’m here.”

“W-we,” you choke out, “we got into a fight…and we b-broke up…”

You feel his grip tighten around you as your words fall out. “I’m sorry, my child,” he says, “I wish he wouldn’t have reacted that way.”

You pull back and look at him in the eyes, shaking your head after a few seconds. “It wasn’t his reaction to finding out about Cyar’ika,” you explain, “this was a fight over something else. I-I didn’t even get to tell him about her. I was trying to set it up, to ease into it, but…” More tears fall from your eyes and another sob interrupts you. You lean back into his chest, trying to reach all the comfort that you can. 

Codo is silent as he continues to hold you, not sure on what to do. All he knows for certain is that you need him, and he’ll stay by your side for as long as you need him to. “Come,” he says softly after a few more minutes. “Let’s go see your daughter.” You almost counter him, knowing that she would just remind you of Crosshair, but then decide that seeing her would be for the best. 

When she’s in your arms again, you nearly breakdown while holding her. All you had wanted to do was tell him about her, but it all went wrong. She deserves to know her father, and he deserves to know her as well, but something had been different about him. He never thought so negatively with you, he always wanted to hear your dreams of the future. He’d even once discussed moving to Dohbar and being a personal knight for you when you went on royal trips, as well as being with you for as long as the two of you lived and loved one another.

But now, that’s all over. He left you broken and alone, and you threw away everything with a few simple sentences. It’s all broken, destroyed, ruined. And you don’t know if there’s anyway to possibly fix it, or if you even want to.

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[mbbsgf]

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD !!

mentions of murder, child abuse, p€dophilia, r@pe, cannibalism, drugs and sexual assault, necrophilia. (let me know if there's more)

————————————————————————————

i warned you at the top of this post, don't read if any of the mentioned topics trigger you.

————————————————————————————

i've been studying true crime for as long as i can remember but i've never been that shocked until now. until i heard about the daisy's destruction case. peter scully is a 61 old man (he currently is in jail) who have done the most gut wrenching, horrifying things i've read. he didn't act alone but he was the "brain" of these crimes. he and his two "girlfriends" kidnapped children promising their parents health and a great situation or whatever but that's clearly not what happened. now the story behind daisy's destruction is fucking insane and horrifying so it's not too late to quit, i don't wanna be in charge of any tears or anything take care of yourselves. one of the girls kidnapped three children. liza, cindy and daisy (i believe this is their names, i apologize if not). i haven't seen the video daisy's destruction since we can't find it on this side of the internet, only on the dark web and for obvious reasons i will not go on the dark web. especially not to see this horror. peter basically r@ped those little girls. to clarify, liza was 11, cindy was 10 and daisy was 18 months old. peter had cindy digging her own grave before strangling her to death. liza and daisy are still alive but they obviously are traumatized and it was confirmed that daisy is unable to have children due to severe injuries around her vagina. i wish them the best and i hope cindy is resting in peace after the hell she went through.

jeffrey dahmer. dear lord, where do i even start? jeffrey would hang in gay bars around the 80s due to his sexuality if i'm correct (correct me if not). i've been studying jeffrey's case for longer so i mostly know what i'm talking about unlike peter's case but i'm not perfect so i might make mistakes so don't hesitate to correct me. jeffrey has always been "fascinated" by death and everything that revolves around it. he would dissect dead animals with his father as a hobby. growing up, jeffrey will realize it's more than just a "scientific" fascination. it sexually attracted him. he would start off by drugging his victim's drink so it'd be "easier" to get them home (please stay safe you guys, psychos are everywhere, always hold your drinks wherever you go). his victims were all males in their 20s or so except for one who was 14. jeffrey was grown when he killed that 14 year old boy. i've personally seen pictures of jeffrey's appartement after he got arrested and those picture made me so uncomfortable. i've also seen jeffrey's polaroids and i don't even wanna comment on it. what kills me is that those photos are so easy to find like that just disgusts me and it made me so uncomfortable.

now, why did i tell y'all all that, hm? there's obviously a reason and you're right. there is. it might sound dumb or like i'm overreacting but i promise i'm not. i've seen MULTIPLE facebook pages, tiktok edits and instagram accounts glorifying and idolizing those monsters. mostly jeffrey because peter's case isn't really known but i have seen "fan" accounts of them both. it's sickening. y'all realize they took the life of innocent, beautiful people. OF KIDS. like. even if peter didn't kill liza and daisy, he still took their life away from them. jeffrey murdered, ate and drugged people. peter raped, murdered and tortured little girls and you have nothing better to do than to create a fucking fan account to support them? you're sick. honestly, fucking disgusting. you think peter or jeffrey would show mercy to you if you were in front of them? you think they'd be like "oh you're my fan, all good!" NO, THEY WOULDN'T. they are murderers and you are glorifying their actions. honestly, you're as sick as peter and jeffrey if you think their actions are okay. i'm sick to my stomach just thinking about the edits i saw of jeffrey with a cute ass stupid caption saying "i could fix him" or "he wouldn't hurt anyone" well shame on you. he did and he admitted to it. the families of the victims maybe have facebook, tiktok or instagram. how do you think they'd feel if they saw their son's/daughter's, cousin's, little brother's/sister's, nephew's/niece's murderer being loved, supported and idolized? you guys are sick. you need to get off your phone and go touch some grass seriously.

that's all i wanted to say, goodnight.

[bellesque]

Midnight's Mischief

A Loki x Reader fic

AO3

Part 3

Word Count: 2265

A/N: all the things i want to say to preface can easily be summed up by saying: i'm rusty, please forgive me

***

“Steady now, princess.”

Easy for him to say—he’s managed to keep his posture perfectly pristine as the light around you dissipates and its last bright streaks glow behind your eyelids. You’re a little dizzy and disoriented—like you’ve just stepped off a rollercoaster and still can’t come to terms with the fact the ground is solid and unmoving. You straighten on shaky knees, and Prince Loki places a hand on the small of your back.

His lips quirk in amusement. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think—for the most part, at least.”

Loki nods at you, then at the figure standing atop the golden platform that sits at the middle of the circular chamber you’ve somehow found yourself in. “Heimdall,” he greets.

“Prince Loki.”

Loki notices your puzzled expression. “He sees all,” he provides simply.

It doesn’t clarify things at all, but you nod once as if you understand. “Ah.”

“This is his observatory. We’ve traveled through the Bifrost.”

You look up at Loki, the only familiar presence in this strange, bright room. It feels like… you shouldn’t be here. You’re an outsider, a foreigner—he looks like you, but it’s clear, in this golden observatory, that he is from another world.

Literally.

“Your father is waiting,” Heimdall cuts through your spiraling thoughts. “You must not keep him.”

Loki exhales air from his nostrils, his chest heaving slowly, before he faces you with a small smile. “Right. Well. Off we go then, princess. Perhaps the Norns will hear your prayers if you ask that Odin’s in a good mood.”

“You brought her back?!”

The aged man with a single eye booms on the golden dais in front of you, causing you to startle and shrink behind Loki’s tall form. He, on the other hand, seems unperturbed.

“I couldn’t just leave her on Midgard,” he says. If he’s nervous, he doesn’t seem to show it.

“You should have.”

The man on the throne must be Odin.

You’re not very sure he’s fond of you.

Although it’s your first time meeting him, you mentally mark that you’re not too fond of him either.

You’d say something, bark out an acidic reply, but instinct tells you to hold your tongue. Only if you were being honest and paid close attention to the holes in Loki’s story, you’d be questioning his credibility. He told you Odin helped him find you—so why does it seem like he’s completely enraged by your presence?

Odin squeezes his eye shut. You imagine if he had two, to somehow lighten the weight of confusion and fear in your bloodstream.

It doesn’t help.

As if answering your silent question, he speaks after a measured exhale. “I helped you find her only to establish that you’ve made a mistake—a dire one at that—to keep you accountable.”

The comment stings. A mistake. But Odin goes on, not paying an ounce of attention to you, and furthers—

“She is a liability to you.”

“My responsibility,” Loki corrects swiftly.

“Asgard’s liability.”

Odin’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “You should have left her, Loki,” he repeats, barely controlling his tone.

You watch Loki’s head tip skyward from where you stand. “And if she’d died because of me?” he demands.

Something in you lurches at his words. Whatever danger Loki put you in, you didn’t expect your life to be on the line.

Oh, mercy. You haven’t even crossed off bungee jumping from your bucket list. Even that sounds tame in comparison to…

As if sensing your reaction to his words, Loki takes a step back to place a hand on your back. “I couldn’t let that happen,” he says in a softer tone.

Odin, however, hasn’t changed in mien. “Then it would have been a lesson for you. Not to dalliance on Midgard and put innocent people in harm’s way in favor of your recklessness!”

“It was a just a ring, by the gods!”

“It may be perceived as an act of war!” Odin roars.

The hall grows quiet. Even Loki is stunned.

Odin exhales again, clearly trying to regain composure. “Did you put it back?” he asks.

The prince doesn’t answer. Odin bangs a fist.

“Loki, did you put it back?”

He has the sense not to look up at his father. “Well, there’s a ring,” he mumbles vaguely.

Odin’s eyes narrow. You don’t completely understand how everything ties together—you, the ring, a possible war—and now is definitely not the time to ask.

“Is it with her?” He looks pointedly at you.

“What? No. Of course not.”

“Do not lie to me to protect—”

“I’m not lying!” Loki bristles as he steps forward and once again, shields you from his father’s wrath with his tall frame.

Odin regards you with a guarded eye. “The ring’s magic. It’s on her.”

Aaaand your mind stops. There’s magic on you? But you’ve felt fine all this time. Sure, you were a little disappointed when you didn’t hear from Loki, but you wouldn’t chalk that up to magic. It wasn’t like you were being mind-controlled or puppeteered by anything.

To your knowledge, at least.

You squash down any other thought before it forms.

“That, ah…” Loki coughs, lets out a single chuckle, as though to ease the tension. Odin’s eyebrow rises. Loki clears his throat.

“Might be because I may have kissed her.”

Your cheeks flame. Loki glances at you, offering you a charming albeit weak smile.

“That explains why it’s a very faint pulse,” Odin mutters. He seems unfazed by the knowledge that you and Loki shared a kiss. “A small relief.”

“Though still enough to track her, yes?”

Nothing in this conversation has made a lick of sense to you, but you’ve been trying to hang onto every word nonetheless… until that.

“I believe so.”

Tracked. It triggers something stored in the deeper recesses of your brain with the speed of a switch being flicked on. The notion that you’ve been tracked since the night of the costume ball makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Despite your best efforts not to show just how rattled you are, instinctively your hand rushes to fist the back of Loki’s tunic.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, making your head throb; at the same time, you feel yourself go lightheaded—then, cold and hot at the same time. It doesn’t make any sense.

It’s like you’re doused in ice cold water. The bite of reality is harsh.

None of this makes any sense—where you are, what’s happening, the implications of a possibly stolen ring that could possibly start a war with who-knows-where, and what you might possibly have to do with all of this. Panic starts to mount, building from your belly and spidering throughout your veins.

“—never mind the Midgardian girl—”

Breathe. You have to consciously remind yourself to breathe as it finally sinks in that you are somewhere else that isn’t Earth, there’s a possible war and oh shit that word alone pingpongs in your brain. Magic? Tracking? Possible death? All things that are apparently, very real.

“—you must return the ring to Vanaheim—”

Maybe this is some very bizarre dream. Maybe… maybe you fell asleep on the couch, thinking about Prince Loki, and somehow started lucid dreaming that he came into your apartment to whisk you away into a fantasy world. Yes—that seems like a rational, logical explanation.

You pinch yourself—and wince.

Your mind starts to reel while the pounding of your blood gets more intense.

Breathe, you take a shuddering breath, and close your eyes—

You don’t have the energy to stop yourself from crumpling to the floor behind Loki in this strange room.

My presence is strong, and the Norns know they must have been tracking you as well.

Though still enough to track her, yes?

It could have been perceived as an act of war!

They float in and out of your unconscious mind. Yes, a dream, that’s what this is—another one of those hyperactive REM cycles where your brain conjures up things your cognizant self could never think of on its own.

Coolness ripples over your skin as a woman gently commands, “Wake.”

Your eyes fly open, vision blurry as you adjust to the white and golden ceiling of…

Definitely not your apartment. Your heart sinks. Not a dream.

“There. All fine. Satisfied, Loki? You could have done it yourself, you know.”

“There’s much I’ve yet to learn from you, Mother, and observing you is most effective.”

There’s a smile in her voice. “You mustn’t lie to your own mother, dearest.” Fondness.

“But it’s true.”

“I taught you this simple spell when you were but a boy.”

“So it seems I’ve forgotten it in the long years I haven’t had the need to use it.”

“Hmm.” There’s amusement in her tone now.

A woman bent over you comes into focus, her motherly aura overpowering the other first impression that fights for a place in your mind. Regal—if not her posture, her bronzy gown and shiny jewels decorating the crown of her head are a dead giveaway.

“Welcome back to the waking world, princess,” Prince Loki grins, pushing off the wall he was leaning against to approach you. “Next time you decide to faint, please do so in front of me. That’s where my eyes are, you see, not the back of my head. I’ll be better equipped to catch you then.”

As you sit up, you note that Loki’s lost some of his serious air here—not that he was severely serious to begin with. Given the nature of the conversation before you blacked out—war, liabilities, kingdoms at stake probably—of course it would have been unwise for him to have the kind of playful, teasing glint his eyes currently assess you with.

“You’re in the infirmary,” the woman tells you, ignoring Loki like she’s used to his antics. “My name is Frigga.”

“My mother,” Loki supplies.

You nod once, slowly, your chin bowing for a cycle of breath. “I take it I’m still…” You raise your head, hesitating, not wanting to verbalize the end of your sentence.

“Still on Asgard?” The corners of Frigga’s mouth pull upward in quiet understanding.

Your heart manages to sink a second time. You nod.

“This is all real?”

“Which part of it, my dear?”

All of it. Being tracked. Magic. A world that isn’t Earth. You stare at Frigga, hoping she can comprehend what your eyes try to convey.

The compassion in her eyes says enough.

Would it be embarrassing to cry right now?

Oh, go right ahead. You’ve already fainted in front of Loki’s dad within 10 minutes of meeting him—well, sort of meeting—let’s cry in front of his mom and bring the record of embarrassing yourself in front of Loki’s parents down to 2 minutes.

“I’m sure this must all be very overwhelming, but time does happen to be of the essence in this certain situation,” Frigga says delicately.

“I did bring you here without even sparing you a moment to change out of your… er…” Loki puzzles over your outfit: a worn sweater and leggings.

“Pajamas.”

“Right.”

“And overwhelmed is definitely an understatement.” You bite your lip, fisting the linen sheet draped over your body. How is the ceiling so impossibly high? Why does the scenery outside the arched window across your bed look so familiar and yet so foreign? It’s green: plantation. You have that on Earth. If you tried hard enough, you could convince yourself that you’re still there.

But you aren’t.

“I’d like to go home,” you say, meeting Loki’s and Frigga’s eyes. But as soon as the words are out of your mouth, you remember why you’re here in the first place.

Loki looks at you, seriousness making a brief appearance once more. “Can’t have you going where you’re likely to be found. Like I told you on Midgard, you are safer here. Under my protection.”

Frigga hides her snort of laughter behind a fist. “Well, this surely is a first from you, my son.”

Loki turns to his mother with raised eyebrows. Frigga’s eyes twinkle with mirth; she stands and kisses his cheek, and then turns to you.

“Before you make your decision…” You fidget under her intense motherly gaze. “You should know the predicament you’re in. I trust my son to be forthcoming with you.” She looks pointedly at Loki.

“I’m anything but.”

“Forthcoming and honest, Loki.”

“Yes, mother.”

She turns on her heel, and it seems both you and Loki wait until the sound of her footsteps fade from earshot. With a wave of his hand and wisps of green shimmers, a chair materializes next to your bed. Your jaw drops.

Loki seems pleased with your reaction, settling into the tufted chair with a grin on his face.

“So, princess.” He sobers ever so slightly. “Shall I start with the good or the bad?”

“Uh.” You huff out a disbelieving, nervous chuckle. “Maybe let’s start with why I’m here before we touch on why there are good and bad things.”

A thoughtful look crosses Loki’s face. “Fair.”

“So?” You glance at the greenery outside the window, and when your eyes meet Loki’s, you notice that they bear a striking similarity. Vibrant, rich.

Loki is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t look away, but holds your gaze; it reminds you suddenly of the waltz you shared. It feels like forever ago.

“So,” Loki begins lightly, “there may or may not be a corpse involved.”

[wherelanguage-ends]

Sorry to bring up the B and P issue, but imo BoC should also come clean and clarify on the topic that is the 4 minutes series. We should not forget that the first accusation P made against B was regarding plagiarism of a supposed series she was writing. Then there is a phone call recording in which P accusses B repeatedly of sharing the plot of her series with B*C and with the writer Sammon and B repeats that he didnt do that while crying, asking her please to believe him, and then she asks him for money as compensation. Back then the company not only did not defend B, but only recently the ceo said that it had been all coincidence and that P had made a mistake and it was solved, yet no apology to B was ever made. I think there are more issues and ppl involved in this mess that we're led to believe.

So I’ll be honest anon, when I got your ask I wasn’t sure if I would answer it or not, partly because most of the time when it’s come to this situation I tend to either have emotional outbursts on my blog that go untagged(as in not in the main tag) or the occasional tags under a post as I try to process information(this is one of those times it’s always best to listen to what experts or survivors have to say before formulating your own opinion) Plus talking about this issue when Build himself posted a statement saying he’d like to move on seemed pointless, cause it would be more speculation and theorising.

But fuck it I say, since Pond clearly wants to share his side that nobody asked for?

Going to put the rest under read more.

When this whole thing started I wasn’t really active on Twitter or following any of the going ons on there so correct me if I’m wrong but initially I thought BOC truly had nothing to do with this situation. Sure it’s weird that a former/current writer was accusing their newly contracted writer of stealing her idea by way of an actor in the company and the company itself says nothing but hey Build’s the one who decided to address the situation all on his own. I am not blaming him we clearly know now why he did that at the fan event. Add to this already messy situation the fact that former writer and actor were in a relationship that apparently was abusive, I wouldn’t have blamed BOC for wanting to separate themselves from this entirely even if it started with plagiarism charges.

But they never did that did they? Now Pond’s adding an IG story saying he knew about things from the start? Like what? The abuse charges were fake? The pregnancy was fake? It’s true as he says you can’t know what’s the truth when you’re outsiders but based on what Pond did know how was the press conference a good idea? How is his posting that statement now even helpful to the situation?

Why the both sides argument back then and even now? Poi went on a complete rampage trying to ruin the reputation of a man because he wanted to break up with her and now we’re just supposed to accept it was a messy break up? I know many have commented and explained what toxic relationships can be like , keeping that in mind: What happened to Build’s charges of compelled to act and extortion? His saying that she forced him to stay in the relationship using his career as leverage? That just doesn’t seem like they were equally at fault?

Yeah there are more people involved in this issue and we’ll never know what and who but what the hell is the CEO thinking when he does what he does? I can’t tell if this is his version of ‘oh look at us, we’re such a transparent and honest company’ or what.

As for the thing with Dr. Sammon and everything else. She’s seems to be an industry veteran with multiple projects to her name. So she would know how to handle the situation best and if she doesn’t want an apology or further clarification then so be it. Same goes for any apologies owed to Build. If he deems a public apology necessary he’ll ask for it.

Honestly don’t know if this is what you were going for when you sent the ask but sorry this is what I have.

[drizztdonturden]

#added the scene tally for context bc this isn't even *just* a durge problem let me know if you want it off the post op#tbh i wasn't even surprised anymore by just how much more content ast*rion had compared to everyone else#larian - for whatever reason - had decided to make him their poster child and writers' pet for the entirety of ea already#so to have it be the same at release was#not surprising#what was surprising though is that they didn't even *try* to even out the content the others had#the difference in quantity and quality and just overall care is so stark#to have it confirmed by one of the main writers and apparently NARRATIVE LEAD DESIGNERS whose job it is to oversee EVERYONE'S development#is... Disappointing to say the very least#to have a writer say sorry#we didn't time and resources for any of the others#but we miraculously have the time to plan storyboard write record and animate them all for ast*rion is Truly Amazing

Hello! I hope OP doesn't mind me commenting on this, but I'm actually the person that wrote the post on Reddit analyzing Wyll's level of content in comparison to other companions. A friend told me that discussion of the data was circulating on Tumblr, so I took a look at some of the things being said on here, and made an account so I could clarify a few things. @galedekarios, you pretty aptly described what the biggest issue is, so I hope you're okay with me including your tags!

The first thing I want to state, is that Baudelaire Welch, the dev in question, uses they/them pronouns. I've seen a lot of people on Tumblr use the wrong pronouns, and I want to make sure that if this dialogue is happening, we all respect their identity properly.

I know a lot of people seem to be under the impression that this is the case, but Baudelaire Welch is not Astarion's writer. That is Stephen Rooney. However, Baudelaire is the senior narrative designer on the game, and according to their own blog, they are the "feature lead for companion characters and romances," and they wrote the Durge storyline. This is important to note because this isn't about Astarion's/the Durge's writer receiving more resources than their peers, this is about one of the narrative leads prioritizing one character over another. According to their Discord posts, they took the opportunity to work on Astarion over other companions, and didn't put aside the time to do this work on any other companion.

I've also seen people talking about the Durge being the intended main character. This is not accurate--what is correct is that there were early implications that Tav was meant to be a Bhaalspawn. But in this iteration, Tav did not have amnesia, nor were they implied to secretly be the super sexy and totally Bhaaling Jesus Christ of All Bhaalspawn. It appears that when Larian made the decision to make Tav just some guy and add the Dark Urge as an origin, they chose to make Durge more explicitly evil. It's a misconception to claim that Durge was always meant to be the main protagonist--rather, the Durge was added so this fandom could have more freedom to build their character however they wanted.

People also have been claiming that Astarion was the most popular companion in Early Access--that's not true. That's not even true in the full release of the game.

Contrary to popular belief, the finalized Wyll was not the last implemented companion. That was Karlach, who still has about 2 hours more dialogue than Wyll has. Theo Solomon stated in his interview with Dan Allen that he was brought in to play Wyll in November, whereas Samantha Beart was brought in to play Karlach six months prior to release (Apologies for not having a time stamp! I lost my notes that included it).

When I made the post, I was subjected to racism, bullying, and harassment. I bring it up because I think it's important to note that the reason Wyll was changed so much was because Larian made a mistake, and listened to a group of people that tend to criticize characters of color--especially fictional black people--far more heavily than their white counterparts. And while I believe Larian is well-intentioned, I don't think it's entirely possible to discuss the disparity of content without acknowledging that Wyll is a black man in an IP that has a lot of vocal racists in its fan base.

Anywho, apologies for the rant. But I think that this is something that needs to be addressed, and that we as a fandom need to discuss it factually. I hope this helps clear up some things!

i had not seen the "durge/astarion is canon!" post until earlier today with that discord screenshot and honestly ... a writer being like "i managed to shove in all this extra content for astarion/dark urge, but then we simply ran out of time for the other characters" is not good, actually. that doesn't mean your ship is the most canon. it means that astarion kept getting extra attention and other companions kept getting neglected. that other companions simply do not have the amount of content astarion has is not a good thing, it is a bad thing.

and like i'm saying this as someone who really loves astarion/durge. it's unplatable to me and that larian writers are sitting in fan discords going "yeah we just didn't do that for other characters but somehow i found the time for this!" is kind of gross to me

[2-dsimp]

Hi! can i have a Yandere headcanons of Jotaro, Kakyoin and Josuke? can you do hcs what if reader accept them or loves them back and what if they didnt accept them?

A/N: Oof normally I’d only stick with doing one character at a time buuuut that’s on me since I didn’t clarify that in the rules

So imma just go ahead and activate my super saiyan writer mode lol

And without further adieu enjoy✨

JOTARO

✅ Acception

🐚This man’s confession is straightforward and to the point as he himself realizes that what he feels for you is strong, as it conflicts with his line of reasoning which is a damn impressive feat to accomplish

🐚So before it can get worse he decided to nip it in the bud and confess his liking towards you in a nonchalant manner

🐚If his S/O happened to reciprocate his feelings than you wouldn’t notice how estatic he’d be to the point where his soul will be screaming out your name repeatedly like a broken record

🐚Almost as if it yearns to meld together with your precious soul of which pulses with such a display of blatant happiness, in contrast with his stone cold face

🐚His face would soften as a little genuine smile sneakily creeps onto his face one that’ll bring any girl down to their knees as he looks at you like you’re his entire world

🐚PLEASE He would stop time just to savor this moment I kid you not

🚫Rejection

“Just look into my soul did you think for even a moment that I’d let you go?”

KAKYOIN

✅ Acception

🍒 Would most definitely be the type to introduce himself to your parents only to have them actively trying to set you up to be his future lover—-

🍒Why? We’ll it’s because he’s an honor student with a bright future ahead, and he’s obviously the top potential candidate to ask for your hand in marriage so why not?

🍒 After you accepted his carefully thought out confession of which involved a candle lit fancy dinner under a beautiful starry night that blended along harmoniously with the buzzing nightlife of the city , he would cater to your every whim almost like like a religious devotee

🍒Will often cradle your hand in his whilst pressing tender soft kisses to your palm and bask within each and every blissful moment where he gets to marinate in your welcoming presence

🍒this poor Cherry man is touch starved so please don’t hesitate to show him some well deserved affection

🍒He’s on cloud nine because he finally found someone to make him feel whole and to pour all of his love

🚫Rejection

“I see maybe I wasn’t too upfront in my advances I’ll be sure to correct that mistake ”

JOSUKE

✅ Acception

💜He’s the well renowned love love type of guy so best believe he’s gonna be loud and obnoxious as he celebrates with his friends and show you off like the wonderful being that you are

💜PDA is a must as he wants to show everyone that your are his as much as he is yours, meaning little smooches on the cheek, or you having to sit on his lap during lunchtime, he has to have his hands on you at all times

💜His mom and friends love you so he always invites you to hangout with them on their misadventures and have a blast

💜Will most definitely have random dates outta no where trying to be romantic by literally sweeping you off of your feet, to Tonio’s for a quick bite to eat

💜 However if you’re seen hanging out with someone outside their inner circle and they put their hands on you wether or not it was just them being friendly, His stand will rearrange their body until it’s unrecognizable without you noticing of course

💜Would be the best friend/boy friend you can’t take no where without him acting up either cuz of some sleezebag who wouldn’t take no for an answer or if someone made the off bit comment about his gorgeous hair

🚫Rejection

“Haha! That’s funny babe surely you don’t mean that do you? Maybe I should make it clear just how much I love you”

[ptergwen]

hi val can you maybe write something about the reader being dared to kiss peter/tom/arvin (you choose) since her friends knew that she has a big crush on him, but once she did he seems disinterested after which makes her sad, but what she doesn't know was after she kissed him, he practically runs to his friends freaking out that the girl he's had his eyes on this whole time just kissed him??

kiss and tell

w/c: 1.8k

warnings: like one swear and awkwardness

a/n: yeeee i went with peter! this is adorable :,)

“i can’t!” you scold betty and her annoying smirk. you’re bored at lunch, so liz suggested the three of you play truth or dare. you’d made the mistake of choosing dare. in your defense, betty is the nosiest person in all of midtown, so you thought you were dodging the bullet and guarding your deep dark secrets. how could you have known she’d make you do... this?

“that’s so, like, forward. he’s gonna freak out.” you glance over at peter’s table to see what he’s up to before you possibly scar him. he’s laughing along at a heated conversation ned and mj are having. the way his face lights up, and his eyes crinkle as a smile crosses his features, it gives you butterflies throughout your whole body.

“in a good way,” liz grins her most charming grin at you. it’s not working this time. you roll your eyes up to the ceiling. “i thought you liked him,” betty huffs, gesturing over to peter and keeping her eyes on you. “all you do is talk about how he’s so cute and smart, and his lips look so soft-“ “i never said that!” you look at her with wild eyes. liz bites her lip to hold in a laugh. “the last part, i mean,” you clarify in a murmur.

liz puts a hand on you and pats your shoulder knowingly. “you’ve probably thought it, though. i’ve seen you checking them out.” there have been quite a few times your gaze has landed on peter’s lips, watching them curve while he talks to you about some new science theory he’s excited to share. you end up zoning out and pretending you retained any of what he said. betty puckers her own lips at you.

“you wanna kiss him,” she insists in a sing song voice, resting her chin on your other shoulder. “i’m doing you a favor.” “you’re really not gonna change the dare?” you sigh, your friends leaning on you in support. liz taps your cheek. “so, you don’t wanna kiss him?” “there’s no way,” betty comments from your side. “no, i...” you start, focusing in on peter again.

he meets your eyes across the cafeteria. his smile fades slightly, then a shy one is replacing it, ned dragging him into his and mj’s debate. you turn back to liz and betty.

“i do, but do you think he wants me to?” you ask them both, and they share a you have to be kidding look. “only one way to find out.” liz gives your shoulder a nudge. betty beams at you. “i triple dog dare you now, so you have to.” considering your options, you bounce your leg up and down. you’ll either get the nicest rejection ever from peter or a kiss back. you can handle this.

“ok, i’ll do it,” you decide, betty clapping her hands and squealing. liz throws an arm around your neck. “yay! i love love.” “let’s calm down,” you giggle so she doesn’t get too carried away. you and peter haven’t even established that you like each other. “i’m calm, i’m calm. do you need to borrow chapstick?” she offers, betty simultaneously pulling a tube out of her purse. “or lip gloss?”

you’re appreciating their over involvement now.

“both,” you breathe out, letting them get you ready for your big kiss.

liz and betty send you good luck wishes in a hushed tone while you make your way to peter’s table. mj went to get a snapple, and ned went with her so they could continue whatever argument they’re in. that left peter by himself. it’s almost like this is meant to happen.

“hi,” you greet peter, making him look up at you with raised eyebrows. he notices right away that your lips are shiny, more so than usual. a color that you always seem to bring to his face takes over his cheeks. “hey. you wanna sit?” he gives you a small smile. you return it. “yeah, sure. thanks.” instead of taking the bench across from him like he assumed you would, you find your place next to him.

he doesn’t mind.

“how’s your day been?” you wonder, body turned towards him while he answers. peter scrunches his nose. “kinda busy. i got so much homework in spanish tonight, and i’ve been putting off this essay about...” you do the thing you do every time he goes off on a sort of tangent, watch his lips. lucky for you, that’s the whole point today. “i don’t know. all i have so far is the intro-“

you cut peter off with a kiss. liz and betty cheer to each other the second it happens. peter doesn’t move, only freezes up as you press your glossy lips to his and grab his shoulders. it takes a few seconds for you to realize he’s not kissing back. his arms are stiff at his sides, eyes wide in shock. absolutely humiliated, you pull back, moving as far away as you can.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked you first,” you apologize, voice shaking. you’re already getting to your feet. peter blinks a few times, grounding himself back in the moment. “no, no. it’s okay. i-“ “that was weird, i know. you don’t have to lie or make me feel better.” he furrows his eyebrows, in a way that seems regretful even though you’re the one who messed up. “i’m trying to tell you, y/n. it’s fine. we-“

ned’s voice fills the room, making you snap your head in his direction. him and mj are coming back. you need to get out of here before you embarrass yourself even more.

“i’m gonna go. i’m sorry,” you mumble out, running back to your table, where liz and betty are instantly asking what’s wrong and if you’re alright. peter licks his lips that are now coated in your gloss and clenches his jaw. he’s pissed. not at you, at himself. it’s clear because mj brings attention to it when she sits down.

“what’s up with your face?” she narrows her eyes at him, popping the cap on her snapple. ned elbows peter in his spot next to him. you were just there less than a minute ago. “you okay, dude?” he checks. “no.” peter closes his eyes in frustration. “what’s wrong?” ned kicks mj’s foot under the table so she’ll stop making out with her drink and help him.

“i... y/n kissed me,” peter admits, sounding oddly upset about something everyone knows he’s been hoping would happen. “she what?” ned gawks. “isn’t that a good thing?” mj points out. “you love her.” “like her,” peter corrects and chews the inside of his cheek. “whatever. shouldn’t you want her to kiss you?” she takes another sip of snapple, passing this off to ned.

“yeah...” is all ned says. he awkwardly rubs peter’s back while mj tries not to snort. “that’s not the problem. i didn’t kiss her back, and she took it as me not being into it,” peter shakes his head as he recounts your weird moment. “which i was,” he tells them for the record. ned makes a funny face at him. “so why didn’t you kiss back?” “no shit she ran away,” mj mutters to him. she saw that part.

“because i wasn’t expecting it!” peter frowns at his friends’ reactions and at what he did. “you guys know how much i like y/n. i can’t believe i screwed this up so bad.” mj squints in mock confusion. “i can.” she quickly drops her sarcasm for encouragement after that. “ok, seriously. just go find her and apologize.” “maybe kiss her this time,” ned chimes in.

“if she really likes you, she’ll get it.” mj smiles genuinely, nodding back at your table. ned gives him a push forward. “you got this, dude. come tell us all about it after.” a rush of confidence enters peter from their advice. he’ll fix this. “thanks, guys. here i go.” he shoots up from the table, ned and mj getting back into their debate once he’s out of sight.

betty is hugging you way too tightly when peter gets over there. she goes on about how much peter sucks, overcompensating because she’s the reason you kissed him. you only hum in response. you don’t have the heart to tell her you blame yourself. only liz notices peter come over, so she talks on your behalf. “oh, hey,” she says drily. “hey. can i talk to y/n?” peter gets out, twiddling with his thumbs nervously.

she has to decide if she’d rather go into protective friend mode or let him. from your unenthusiastic responses to betty’s hate rant, she figures you’d like to hear him out.

“come on, betty,” liz takes her arm suddenly, betty trying to pull it back. “what? why?” “i’m gonna buy you ice cream. let’s go.” that’s her cover. peter shoots her a look that says thank you, liz pressing her lips into a line and dragging betty along. betty sees peter standing in front of your table and glares at him, liz walking faster. you don’t get the chance to ask them where they’re going because they leave so fast.

the bench dips down on one side of you, making someone’s prescense known. you’re surprised to find it’s peter. you talk first.

“if you’re gonna apologize, don’t. it was my fault-“ “you never let me finish earlier,” peter interrupts, the hint of a smile on his face. his clammy hand links with one of yours. “what were you gonna say?” you ask quietly, peter threading your fingers together. your heart is racing at the simple touch. “that i like you,” he replies at the same low volume. “and, that i wanted to try again.”

he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you realized. you welcome it, your hands in between you two on the bench. “i like you too... try what again?” you question, although you hope and pray it’s what you think. “kissing,” peter says what you were hoping and praying for. “wasn’t ready the first time.” you’re about to go into cardiac arrest as he rests his forehead on yours, curls brushing your face. a few broken up breaths escape him.

“can i?” he nearly whispers, warm hand still gripping at yours. “yeah,” you agree before your eyes flutter shut. he wastes no time, parting his lips and brushing them against yours gently, you reciprocating. he kisses as sweetly as he is, his free hand on your cheek and fingers careessing your skin. your other hand ends up on the back of his neck. you grin against him, lips detaching momentarily so you can engage him in another kiss.

peter doesn’t hesitate to kiss back this time, nose nudging yours as he moves in more. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck and laugh into the kiss, reminding him you’re in school. he pulls back with a chuckle, but keeps his forehead on yours and your hands in each other.

“sorry. got too excited,” he laughs out, you leaning into his open palm. “i told you don’t apologize.”

liz and betty joined ned and mj at some point. the four of them are whistling at you and yelling out suggestive jokes. they’re too much. but, to be fair, you owe this all to them.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 26

Hannibal, Will and y/n host a dinner to put an end to everything

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: PTSD, violence

"Hannibal, baby," You called down from the wine cellar. "Which one pairs best with the paella?"

"A Spanish white!" Will interjected.

You rolled your eyes, then looked at his shelf full of Spanish whites. "Thanks, Hannibal."

"You're the sommelier, [F/N]." Will shouted back. "Go with your gut!"

"Verdejo it is." You said to yourself, grabbing the high-shouldered bottle from the shelf.

You returned from the cellar and headed to the dining room, where Will was dutifully setting the table.

"Well aren't you the perfect little homemaker?" You commented, making sure he caught you eyeing his backside.

Will playfully snatched the wine from your hands. "We can't all be the breadwinners, can we, Ms. Restaurant Owner?"

You laughed, looking around at your triple-income house and accepting a kiss from your Will. You put your hands on his shoulders and broke the kiss.

"You know Hannibal isn't going to let you attend one of his famous dinner parties in a flannel, right?" You warned him, lips hovering a few inches from his face.

"Two guests is not a dinner party." Will corrected you. "I figured you'd know this after six months but, baby, Hannibal is always overdressed for everything."

"Better overdressed than the other way around, my treasure." Hannibal said, standing in the threshold. "Why don't you go slip in to that suit I bought you?"

Will threw his hands up. "Do you two just live to gang up on me? You know I can buy my own clothes, right?"

You scoffed. "Babe, you spent your last paycheck almost entirely at Bass Pro Shops-"

"And then we spent the day workshopping new seafood dishes for the restaurant with the fish I caught." Will shrugged. "You don’t get to benefit from it then complain."

You put up your hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

"So I don't make an ordeal out of this in front of guests," Hannibal said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out two small drawstring bags and gave one to each of you. "Happy six months, my darlings."

"Six month anniversary presents?" Will laughed. "What are we, high school students?"

"Do you not want it?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that." He mumbled.

You opened the bag and slid the contents into your hand. A beautiful solid white ring with ornate carvings tumbled out.

"It's beautiful." You smiled, sliding it on to your finger. "What is it?"

"A ring, my indulgence." Hannibal chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sure, but what is it made of?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Ivory."

"Should I be concerned that you somehow know both of our ring sizes?" Will asked, admiring how his fit perfectly on his finger. 

“I think you mean ‘thank you, Hannibal’.” You corrected him. “Even if it is a little uncanny.”

The doorbell rang. Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and pointed to Will.

"Go change." He ordered. "I will not have my guests seeing you in such an unsightly state."

"It's Jack and [F/N]'s friend." Will protested.

"Sure, I'll get the door." You said. "Gee, thanks [F/N], that would be so helpful!"

You opened the door with a smile.

"Agent Crawford!" You greeted, shaking his hand.

"Oh, please." He laughed. "Call me Jack."

"And this must be Bella." You said, offering his wife your hand. "Jack has told me all about you."

"So you're the infamous [F/N] [L/N]?" Bella accepted with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you."

Jack removed his hat and coat, then handed you a bag. "For you."

"You shouldn't have." You said, knowing immediately that it was wine. Then you pulled it out of the bag. Your eyes went wide and your jaw hung open.

"Holy shit you really shouldn't have." You repeated.

Jack shrugged and smiled smugly. "I pulled some strings in evidence. Figured you might want it."

You threw your arms around his neck, keeping a tight grip on the 1907 Heidsieck Monopole.

"Hey, do I get a hug?" Said another voice.

Charissa waved to you from the porch.

"Holy shit, hey!" You opened your arms. Charissa jumped into your embrace and squeezed you. She'd always hugged you tighter after seeing you half-alive in a hospital bed with your seldom-seen lovers at your bedside.

"Jack, this is my friend Charissa Rodriquez." You introduced. "She was the one who sent you the address."

"So you're 'tip', huh?" Jack's face lit up. "The FBI owes you a debt of gratitude, Ms. Rodriquez."

"Tip?" You said, looking at both Jack and Charissa.

"The address we received came from an obvious burner email." Jack explained. "We thought it was from Chase, so we arrived with a ton of backup anticipating an attack. Turns out we needed it."

Charissa shrugged. "I thought you could never be too careful."

"Well, intentional or not," Jack said. "You helped us a lot."

"You're Charissa Rodriquez?" Will said from the staircase. He wore a grey suit with a dark blue dress shirt that fit him scarily well considering he hadn't even tried it on.

"Enchanté, monsieur." Charissa said, eyeing him up with a hungry smile. "You must be Will."

"Down, girl." You crossed your arms. Your tone was playful, but had a slight threatening bite. "He's all mine."

"Not all yours." Hannibal corrected, entering the scene to finally greet his guests. "Agent Crawford, Bella, Ms. Rodriquez, welcome."

"Wow." Charissa said, dumbfounded. "I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity."

"Oh, surely the rumors unraveled after the old place went out of business." Hannibal answered. "There are far more interesting things to talk about than myself."

"Very few, but they do exist." Jack commented.

Charissa folded her arms. "Like the bartender who stood up to a psychotic cult leader and found two wonderful boyfriends to take care of her?"

"I've heard that one!" You added. "I hear she bought the restaurant for next to nothing after it became a stigmatized property."

Carissa narrowed her eyes at you. "I still cannot believe you told him."

You shrugged. "I think it all worked out."

Hannibal gathered everyone around the table and tasked you with pouring the wine.

"Surely you know why I've invited you here tonight." He asked, taking a seat at the head. "The high courts have ruled Chase's death a suicide."

"Cheers to that." Will said, raising his glass.

"Nobody actually believes it was a suicide." Jack clarified, trying not to look at you too obviously. "But the jury didn't want to dignify him with a proper homicide ruling."

Charissa glared at you, not trying to not be obvious. "Only one person at the table knows for sure."

You shook your head. "I hit my head really hard, the details are just not there."

"But [F/N]'s DNA was on the gun." Bella added.

"But not her fingerprints." Jack said. "It was saliva. We think he tried to choke her with his fingers before reaching for the gun."

"Did you ever find that finger?" Charissa said like it was nothing.

Jack, who was more interested in the paella than the conversation, shook his head. "Never."

Your eyes widened. You left the finger with the gun, you were sure of it.

"Must we discuss the gory details over dinner?" Will said, sensing your discomfort.

Charissa rested her chin in her hands. "Would you rather talk about your three-person couple?"

"I distinctly remember spitting the finger out." You insisted.

"We found so many pieces of bone in that room," Jack continued. "It's genuinely of far less concern than the dynamite lining the walls and bunker full of cocaine, stolen medical supplies and baby coffins."

"And the stained glass window made of human skin." You added.

"You know a case is fucked when a lost finger is of the least concern." Charissa commented.

"The important thing is that it's over." Will said. "He's dead and [F/N] is alive."

Bella smiled at you. "God really is looking out for you, [F/N]."

You forced a smile, telling yourself that Bella had the best intentions. But her good intentions revived Chase's voice in your head, which was a voice you'd spent the last six months trying to forget. You tightened your grip on your utensils to relieve some tension, but it didn’t work.

The table went quiet, waiting for Bella to realize her mistake. Will put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes. He mouthed the word 'breathe' and some similar affirmations.

Hannibal raised his head, knowing the light casting shadows on his face intimidated people. "Ms. Bella, we generally don't talk religion here."

She covered her mouth with her fingertips. "I'm so sorry, [F/N], I just meant-"

You put your hand up. "Please, just don't."

"The important thing is that [F/N] recovered forty missing women and reunited them with their families." Will said. "And there was no divine presence involved in that."

You smiled softly. "I'll drink to that."

"And you'll also be happy to know that the woman who assisted him in luring all those girls into the cult," Jack added. "She's looking at twenty-five to life without parole."

"What about the babies?" Bella piped up. "Weren't there, like, at least twelve newborns?"

"That's where the department of family and child services took over." Jack answered. "Whether the biological mothers kept them or put them up for adoption is out of our hands, but I do know each child was thoroughly examined and are all up to date on their shots."

"Seriously, though." Charissa interjected. "How do you misplace an entire finger?"

"It's one of the easier appendages to misplace." Hannibal answered, speaking with experience. "I heard it wasn't just the one that you couldn't find."

Jack looked up from his plate, confused. "Now how did you know about that?"

"The man took a 12 gauge bullet directly to the hand, Jack." Hannibal said with a small chuckle. "It's more likely you find no fingers than any at all."

"The bones will turn up somewhere." Jack said, resignedly. 

He just happened to say the word “bones” as you were glancing at your ring. 

You smiled a little too wide. “They just might.”  

[mogai-sunflowers]

I wasn’t going to respond because I haven’t had like. Any spoons for discourse lately, but I see you’re engaging in good faith. So this isn’t to start a chain of argumentation, just my response.

I definitely agree that reading comprehension is a skill and it’s not inherently ableist to acknowledge that it’s an important one. However, I wasn’t really referring to people who say that, I was referring to people who make overly cruel comments about people who misinterpreted something, to the point where it’s obvious that they’re more upset over someone misunderstanding something than they are about any of the bigoted shit they might’ve said in response.

Reading comprehension is a practical skill for those who can gain it, but it is not a reflection of morality. When someone simply misinterprets something, there is no need to get all high and mighty and make fun of reading comprehension. If all someone did was misinterpret a statement, then all you have to do is say something along the lines of “I think you may have misinterpreted this statement, you were coming from this perspective but I think a different thing was meant by it!” You don’t have to say “lol imagine not being able to read” or “me when I have such a low IQ I can’t understand what I’m reading” (actual things I’ve seen said in response, btw.)

and if they misinterpreted something and in response said something bigoted, then the problem isn’t the misunderstanding (common human experience), it’s the bigotry (unacceptable response in any situation).

my point is that being cruel to someone for something that didn’t actually cause any harm and was just a misunderstanding, is just shitty behavior. Now obviously, if someone is spouting blatant bigotry or misinformation, they should be called out.

But as someone who struggles immensely with reading comprehension of complex things, I’ve often made good faith comments and questions about something to which I received nothing but cruelty and mocking. And all it did was make me less willing to actually try to learn because I felt like shit for not being able to understand even though intelligence is not and never will be a sign of value as a person, so There comes a certain point where it’s extremely obvious that a lot of people don’t actually want to have an honest conversation and correct someone kindly and understandingly, and instead want to just feel superior to others by putting them down for no reason.

if you notice someone misinterpreting something and your first reaction is to ceaselessly mock them for not understanding something, that’s simply bullying and not acceptable just because you (not directed) May perceive yourself as better than anyone who has a harder time understanding things.

I am guilty of this many times myself in the past, and I’m not proud of it. But there’s a big difference between simply telling someone they misinterpreted something and correcting them, and ruthlessly mocking people for making a mistake that is most often a genuine mistake.

so I understand and respect what you’re saying, but I just wanted to clarify what the intent of my post was.

unfriendly reminder that using things like low IQ and difficulty with reading comprehension as insults isn’t the gotcha you think it is. using low IQ as an insult just shows how you equate ID with moral failing/human failing, similarly with those “reading comprehension on this website sucks” jokes.

i assure you, the troll you’re trying to epically own won’t care if you make fun of their IQ or reading skills, but the person with ID or another mental disability who happens to see your “joke” is now reminded that people see them as a laughingstock and not as a real person with real feelings.

i understand that many people who make these jokes have no ill intent and aren’t really thinking about the implications of their words, so im not trying to say you’re a bad person if you make these jokes, but i am saying you should reconsider your words and how they could actually affect someone else because ableism is ingrained in everything and it takes work to root out casual ableism in your everyday actions.

[rainbowsky]

Did DLS Out DD During a DDU Recording and Make Him Cry?

This has been making the rounds on Twitter and YouTube and even Tumblr, for a while now. Fancam footage of DLS making a boyfriend joke and then leaning in to a supposedly upset DD and trying to smooth things over.

This whole thing is based on fancam footage taken during the recording of the DDU 20190825 episode. In this episode dating was being discussed using four beautiful young women, DD and QF along with two handsome young guests as a backdrop.

The subtitles of the fan cam present a scenario where DLS supposedly refers to DD as ‘not needing a girlfriend because he already has a boyfriend’ and then leaning into a supposedly emotional DD and apologizing, trying to calm him down; saying viewers won’t understand what was said.

Let’s take a look at the video:

The full fan cam footage that this out of context clip was taken from can be found here.

If you watch the episode and the complete fan cam footage, you’ll see that this happened during the segment where they were being asked to comment on various dating scenarios. An announcer would present each scenario in a multiple choice format, asking the women to choose between four options based on the type of guy they’d most like to date. For example:

How would you like the boy you like to invite you for a meal on the weekend?

A] Save your weekend for me. Do not say no.

B] You had breakfast at 7:50 this morning and lunch at 12:30. It’s already 7pm now. You have to eat meals on time. Why don’t I take you out for dinner?

C] I tried to explain my thoughts when I look at you, but I failed. So do you have time for dinner with me this weekend? Let’s talk about it.

D] Get out. Dinner.

My opinion

We should always, always be suspicious of anything that is presented without context. 99.9% of the time, when someone removes context they are doing so to mislead audiences. This clip is a perfect example of that. The video creator appears to have removed important context in order to make the clip better fit the narrative they’re trying to sell.

In this segment of the episode, the hosts and guests were seen commenting on the options as they were being read out. The comments DLS is making appear to be in response to something the announcer has said. I don’t think the comments have anything whatsoever do to with DD.

I also don’t think DD looks even remotely upset. Certainly not near tears. Some fans seem over-eager to claim DD is crying. We’ve all seen DD cry, but it’s exceptionally rare and only happens in very personal situations. This doesn’t qualify. It wouldn’t qualify even if everything the video creator claimed was true. DD would be more likely to get angry than cry in such a situation. He isn’t doing either of these things.

Whoever made this video simply doesn’t ‘get’ DD’s personality at all. The people who buy this are similarly unfamiliar with him.

I invite everyone to use your own eyes and your own judgment. Ignore what’s being claimed, ignore the framing you’ve been given of the scenario by me or the video creator, and instead just watch the clip. Does that look like a man on the verge of tears to you?

Second and third opinions

I asked the indispensable @potteresque-ire and @knivescharade what they thought of the clip. I didn’t tell them anything about my opinion, but simply sent the clip and asked their thoughts - are the subtitles correct, what do you think of the lip reading, etc.

@knivescharade

wow, for this person to put this analysis in i would say that lip reading is a very difficult skill. and to try and lip read someone like DLS, who speaks like a bullet train and doesn't really enunciate SUPER well (unlike Han-ge, for example) ... i would say the interpretation is only very vaguely possible at best.

i know both the cand int fandom have a major something for how WYB keeps swallowing around XZ, but honestly. WYB tends to get throat issues. i think swallowing has become one of his habits at this point. so... in conclusion... there are already lots of major, amazing, and irrefutable candies in the fandom already, let's not bother with such iffy ones :D

he is indeed saying that "this man has a boyfriend", but i cant quite remember which part of the show that was in. i watched that episode, it was something to do with love and having 4 guys paired with 4 girls or something like that, and listening to 'types of guys responses to etc etc' so DLS wasnt saying that WYB has a boyfriend - he was saying that 'this man', the one whose voice was playing in the audio, has a boyfriend.

That tracks with my interpretation of what was happening.

@potteresque-ire

Unless people have learned the dialect, Mandarin speakers cannot understand Cantonese, and vice versa. This is why I don't support or wash auditory candies, especially if it involves someone from Northern China (such as DLS, who is a Beijing native). Their local accents make their Mandarin even more difficult to understand.

This dialect restriction is actually not specific to a me, or other Hong Kongers. Someone whose family is entirely from Northern China would be equally prone to making mistakes if they're asked to lip read southern Chinese.

Lip reading also removes tonal consideration, which makes everything that much more uncertain. Have you heard of the Mr Shi Eats the Lion story? This is why, even if I hear some similarities, I'd hesitate to say X has to be saying ABC. Context is important.

Cantonese speakers are especially picky about tone. Mandarin have 4. We have 6 or 9, depending on who you ask. So... I may be more picky than I should be that way too. And I don't want to spoil anyone's fun 😊

The translation was correct in the sense that it was faithful to the Chinese words in the clip I saw, which replicated what DLS said accurately. But the video itself was from a fancam. Where that fancam happened (and got cut off) was at Q3 at the Q & A segment, starting ~9:34 of the official YouTube clip.

DLS said what he said half way through the voiceover of Option A (very precisely, right after the words "I'm the only one"). Technically speaking, therefore, he wasn't talking about DD.

However, it was also a little strange why DLS said what he said. If you watch that segment, all options have a certain personality attached to them. C was very talkative / pretentious. D was connected to DD because it was blunt and direct. A was the so called "overbearing CEO" personality... which is common in het romance dramas but isn't one that has been connected to the gay stereotype. And so, DLS's timing of saying that ... is curious.

Dd did look a little ... I wouldn't say upset, but tense after DLS said that. Maybe it's because that comment kinda came out of nowhere (because of its curious timing), and so it would be read as hinting at something. But that comment is harmless, wording wise.

Alternate theory

I’ve seen some talk from fans about a different theory for why DLS said what he said. Fans say the announcer for option A was Bian Jiang, the actor who did the voice of LWJ in The Untamed. They say that DLS was making a joke about LWJ not needing a boyfriend because he already has one. That actually makes a lot of sense to me as well, and if that’s really Bian Jiang, then I’d say that’s the most likely explanation for this entire thing.

Conclusion

It’s my firm opinion that DLS was not talking about DD having a boyfriend, nor was DD ‘near tears’ in this clip. Whatever DLS said to DD after that, it almost certainly wouldn’t have been ‘words of comfort to placate an upset DD’.

The Bian Jiang theory fits best, but we don’t need to know why DLS said what he said to be able to conclude he wasn’t talking about DD.

Cute DD candy from this episode

If anyone wants a better candy from this episode, look no further than when he emerges from “door #2″, chosen by one of the women as someone she’d like to date based on the food he’d picked out, and immediately launches into “I want to take a man back to my place and hide him.” A LWJ reference (which DLS and Wang Han clarify with him because they appear baffled by what he just said), but still a tactful, perfect rejection of this woman he’s being paired with. 😅

[mypoisonedvine]

Can u pls write something like dark!reader x steve rogers high school AU , where R is rich spoil brat & she always had a crush on steve but she always bully him by calling him skinny and all and Then yrs later, time changes her family discarded her from will and she becomes poor and need job, got hired for PA by dark ceo!steve rogers who she bullied her all school lifee😈😈

okay this is a lot for a headcanon but I don’t have time to do a whole oneshot BUT I also really like it so we’re gonna just make a longass headcanon here we gooooo

warnings for heavy dub con, choking, slapping, degradation (by steve), bullying (by the reader), abortion mention, brief mention of/implied assault.

“heyo pipsqueak” you called out to get steve’s attention, laughing when he frowned.  “looks like you grew a whole inch over summer, be sure to have your mom draw a line in pencil on the doorframe.”

he just rolled his eyes and got back to chatting with his friend.  not friends, friend, cause he only had one: bucky, who snarled at you as well.

“pick on someone your own size, if you can find somebody with as big a head as you,” bucky shot back, making you scoff.

“you know, it’s a shame you hang out with this deformed freak, you could’ve been popular.  you’ve got the looks for it.”

“I’d rather keep my brains, thanks,” bucky explained as you walked away with your posse of fellow popular kids.

you didn’t used to be so mean to steve.  it was sort of a comedy of errors, really.  you two had been friends in elementary school-- you, him, and bucky were the rambunctious trio up until middle school.  

things change for boys and girls in middle school.  guys just get along with each other and don’t think about it much.  girls, though... girls need to be sharp.  it’s eat or be eaten.  and you wanted to eat.

you were lucky that you developed early.  it meant that girls respected you and boys feared you-- not just for your attractive features but for the fact that you loomed a foot over most of them.

you started to take advantage of it.  and by the time you realized you had feelings for your best friend steve, it was already too late-- he was at the bottom of the food chain and you were at the top.  

you told your new girl friends that you wanted to take steve to the sadie hawkins.  they laughed at you.  for a moment, you felt what it was like to be outcast and you never wanted to feel it again.  so, you told steve and bucky that you’d grown apart.  and you were happy to just be former friends...

it was steve that started it.  he called you out.  he told you that you were nothing like who he used to know-- you had become vapid and cold and narcissistic.

“you’re so busy worrying about what other people think, you never take the time to think for yourself.”  that was what he said.  and it fucking hurt.

“saw you talking to your boyfriend steve the dweeb,” your friend tanya announced at lunch just a few minutes after that conversation.  and you were angry, and hurt, and truly friendless despite being surrounded by other popular girls.  so you said some things you could never take back.

“steve?  as if.  did you know he still sleeps with a security blanket?  and he has his friend bucky fight for him every week cause if he took a punch he’d crumble to dust?”

and so, mortal enemies were formed.  it only got worse in high school, as you fought to secure your title at the top while steve and bucky’s presence filled your heart with guilt and your gut with anger.

if only you’d known how quickly you could fall from your high horse.

it started when you dated tanya’s ex, brock.  she was made so she spread a rumor that you would fuck any guy on the football team, even all of them at once.

apparently, a lot of people believed it since tanya had been your sidekick since 6th grade.

two football players believed it.  and when you wouldn’t follow through on it, you got yourself a black eye.

that meant you missed school for a week because you couldn’t possibly show up looking like that.  tanya told everyone it was because you got grounded and sent away to church camp after your parents caught you in bed with one of the neighbors.  so now your reputation was ‘sleeps with football players and old men.’

only brock had been there for you.... but it turned out he had motives of his own.  you had originally planned to wait until college, but brock was clearly wanting something in return for putting up with dating pariah #1... so you let him take your virginity.

the condom broke.  when you dashed to the trash can to hurl in the middle of history class, you knew something was wrong.  (and lost that many more social points in the process.)

brock dumped you the second he found out you were pregnant.  didn’t even help you pay for the abortion.  he got back together with tanya and told her the real reason for your ‘medical absence’.  and that was the last straw for the former homecoming queen.

the humiliation drove you to some.... poor choices, for the next few years.  you tried not to think about them now, but it was hard not to when their consequences were staring you right in the face: no money, no job, nearly homeless, and desperate.

over a hundred job applications later, only one had called you back and scheduled an interview.  and you only needed one.

so there you were, waiting in the chilly lobby area while the receptionist typed away and chomped her gum, tapping your toes and glancing out the window occasionally.

you were surprised when you had been told your interview would be on the 51st floor.  you sort of assumed it would just be some random manager interviewing you, not somebody important enough to have a waiting room like this, or a view like this.

when a man stepped out from the nearby hallway, your eyes went wide.  he was tall, and handsome, and obviously muscular underneath the exquisite suit.  you suddenly felt underdressed in your hand-me-down business clothes.

then he called your name.  and you realized he was going to interview you.

you stood up and nodded.  “you can follow me to my office,” he instructed with a smile, leading you down the hall to the corner office.  you were in awe of the grandiosity of it all.  you were dumbfounded when you saw CEO on the door.

“there must have been a mistake,” you explained as he shut the door behind you.  “I... I’m just interviewing for an entry-level position.”

“no, there’s no mistake,” he shook his head, “I have you exactly where I want you.  take a seat.”

he circled his desk and sat on the other side of it, resting his elbows on the desk and giving you an oddly smug smile.  an awkward silence was finally broken when he realized, “you must not remember me.”

“I... have we met?” 

“I don’t blame you, I look pretty different,” he shrugged.  “I must’ve grown a whole inch this summer.”

you gave him a confused look before realization dawned on you, along with shame, and fear.

“oh... oh my god, Steve?!” you squawked.  he just grinned.  “you look... you look...”

“taller?”

sexy.

“you look great!” you said aloud instead.

“yeah,” he agreed, “wish I could say the same for you.”

you swallowed dryly.  “so that’s what you want,” you sighed, “to get back at me.  I understand.  I deserve it...”

“I don’t want revenge,” he denied.  “I’m just sorry to see you haven’t been... thriving, since high school.  your job history--” he scanned your resume briefly-- “well, you don’t have one.  have you been slumming it all this time?”

“without my parents’ money?  yeah,” you admitted.  

“surprised you applied here, instead of turning tricks on 5th and Columbus.”

your back straightened and your eyes went wide at that comment.

“I mean, you’re already dressed for it,” he smirked.

you stood up and crossed your arms.  “if you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll leave now.  I’m sorry for everything I did to you, steve,” you announced, voice shaky with oncoming tears.

“can you really afford to leave?” he pressed.  “if you have a chance at a job?”

that, unfortunately, got your attention.  “you... you might actually offer me something?”

“I will offer you something,” he corrected, “if you just sit down and listen.”

you relented, returning to your seat.  you could stand a lot more insults if there was money on the line.

“to be honest, there’s no way I can hire you for the position you applied for,” he sighed.  “you’re just underqualified.  but I think I can create a position for you.”

you liked the sound of that.  “what kind of position?”

“well, that’s tricky, seeing as you don’t have any skills,” he frowned, “except one.  so that’s the one I plan on using.”

the look in his eyes made it all too clear what he was referring to, but as you shrunk into the leather chair he went ahead and clarified.

“I’ll pay you whatever salary you saw in the ad.  but you won’t be doing data analysis or office management or anything like that.  all you’ll be doing is spreading your legs for me whenever I fucking want.”

fear shot up your spine; his eyes were devouring you, pinning you to the chair, and you tried to process that.  “I--”

“before you say anything,” he interrupted immediately, “let’s just be perfectly clear that this might be your only shot at a real job.  what I’m offering has better pay than stripping, and better benefits than hooking.  and unless you have any education or experience I don’t know about, you’re totally fucked.”

“seems like I’m fucked either way,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“see, you’ve still got that sharp tongue,” he grinned.  “can’t wait to put it to better use.”

maybe it was just desperation for cash.  maybe it was because he was good-looking and you could do a lot worse.  maybe it was because, on some level, you felt like you deserved his punishment after how horribly you’d treated him.

“I’ll do it,” you sighed.  “when do I start?”

he stood up and reached across the desk to grab your neck, glaring at you.  “right now.”

his free hand was already fumbling with his belt, the one on your throat guiding you downwards.  “on your knees,” he instructed, and you slipped out of the chair and onto the floor.

he let go of your neck and you figured he was going to come to you, but instead he stood still and demanded: “crawl.”

debasing as it was, you crawled on your knees to his side of the desk, and he laughed at you bitterly.  when you reached his feet and popped back up, you gasped at the sight of his hard cock right in front of your face. it was bigger than your face.  and it was dripping precum.

“don’t get so bug-eyed, you can handle it,” he grinned.  “if your mouth’s as big as I remember...”

you didn’t want to hear any more.  you just wanted to get this over with, so you quickly took his head between your lips and started to suck.  you were shocked when he slapped you, hard enough to knock his length from your mouth and to make you reach up and clutch your stinging cheek.

“fucking whore,” he grimaced, “did I say you could put it in your mouth?  god, you’re so fucking desperate.  just open your fucking mouth and I’ll show you what I want, okay?”

you nodded and stammered an apology, looking up at him with watery eyes and an open mouth.  he swiped the latest drop of precum on your tongue before gliding his cock over it, grabbing your hair to keep you steady as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

“fuck, that’s better,” he sighed.  “so much better when you just do what you’re told.  I remember how you used to be so cruel with this mouth.  now you’re being so welcoming...”

you just sat there and let him use your mouth, trying not to gag when he hit your throat.

“look up at me,” he instructed, “yeah, that’s it.  can’t have you forgetting who’s doing this to you, now can we?”

that went on for a bit longer until mascara-stained tears streaked your face, which he seemed rather proud of.

“damn, wouldn’t mind having you swallow my come right now,” he admitted, “but I have bigger plans.  get up, bend over my desk.”

you coughed briefly when he pulled out, but did as you were told.  he instantly yanked your skirt up over your ass and spanked you several times roughly, making you sob and whine.

“wanna see this ass all bruised up in the shape of my hand,” he explained.  “so we can both remember how hard I fucked you.”

he tore your panties like they were paper, chuckling when he found you already wet.

“dripping already, just from choking on my cock?  poor baby...”

you spread your legs slightly, though you were sure nothing was going to adequately prepare you for his size.

“you figured out how to use birth control since graduating, right?” he asked, and you nodded quickly.  “good.  cause I’m not using a condom,” he continued as he let his cock glide over your folds, groaning slightly, “and there’s no way in hell I’m pulling out.”

he pushed forward in one brutal stroke, making you cry out loudly.  you really hoped these rooms were mostly soundproof.

“shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, already pulling back and thrusting back in.  “clearly you recovered from your years of slutting it up in high school.”

“that-- that wasn’t true,” you defended.

“oh, just shut up,” he growled.

he fucked you fast and deep, his hips pushing yours into the edge of his desk with each thrust.  his hands pinned you down at your shoulders, another reminder that you were entirely at his mercy.

“fuck, this is just what you needed... somebody to put you in your place.  makes sense that it should be me, since you hated me so much.”

“I didn’t h-hate you,” you hiccuped. 

“yeah, you wanted me, didn’t you?”

“always,” you admitted.

“wanted my fat fuckin’ cock to tear up your pussy?  is that it?”

“yes,” you moaned, “yes, steve, wanted to be yours.”

“even when I was skinny and short?”

“even when you hated me,” you added.

he growled slightly and you felt your walls tighten around him suddenly.  he chuckled, clearly aware that you were enjoying this.

“you want more, baby?  want me to fuck you harder?”

“whatever you want,” you answered instead.  “just use me however you want.”

he moaned and leaned down to cage your body in with his.  “fuck, baby... you’re taking this better than I thought you would.  such a good girl for me, huh?  such a good little slut.  want me to use you, baby?  take all my anger out on you?”

“yes,” you whispered, sobbing when he began to fuck you more brutally than you thought possible.  but it felt good.  so good that your legs were shaking, so good that you felt even better when he tugged your hair.

“yeah, gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?” 

you nodded and bit your lip.

“m’ close too,” he admitted, “you’re gonna be so full of my come, it’s gonna be dripping down your legs when you walk out of here...”

your orgasm made your body shake and your eyes roll back.

“fuck, I can feel you coming,” he groaned, “fuck, just like that-- fuck!”

you felt his warmth fill you as his cock flexed against your walls.  you were busy trying to catch your breath when he slumped down on top of you and pushed the air from your lungs.

“damn... didn’t think I was gonna come that fast,” he sighed.  “see what you do to me?  fuck, I knew this was a good idea.”

sure, it felt good, but you were sure he was only going to get rougher and meaner the longer this went on.  you couldn’t imagine how you were going to get out of here without somebody noticing your wrinkled clothes, messed-up hair and, as he’d pointed out himself, come all over your thighs.

“guess I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow, huh?” he chuckled, giving you an unexpected peck on the cheek.  you couldn’t answer, though, interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing.  “oh, sorry, gotta get this.”

he reached for the phone and picked it up, bringing to his ear all without pulling out of you or even lifting his body from on top of yours.

“bucky, hey,” steve grinned as he spoke into the phone, looking down at you and stroking your hair, “you’re not gonna believe who I ran into today...”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 9 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was groggy with lack of sleep the next morning, but an evening’s contemplation of the Lan sect’s rules had put him back into the right mindset.

As a disciple of the Lan sect, he was entitled under the rules for his elders to remember do not disrespect your juniors just as he was required to respect and obey your elders. Pursuant to the rules, he should have the protection of his sect and their support, and if what he had was imperfect, it was at least something; for every Lan Ganhui that mocked him, there was a Lan Yueheng that encouraged him, and there were plenty of teachers that preferred him over all the others.

As for his brother – Lan Qiren should not hold his anger against him. He had been acting in the best interest of the sect, seeking to obtain benefits for what had been lost; he had thought throughout the trip that Lan Qiren had given up more than just his word of honor, but had refrained from punishing him accordingly. In the end, even his father had assigned him only to kneel, which was a milder punishment by far than he deserved for all his mistakes and insolence.

More than that, his brother was right: Wen Ruohan would be bound by his own word of honor and public reputation to treat Lan Qiren with dignity, and by endorsing the relationship rather than rejecting it, his sect was indicating that they would hold Wen Ruohan to his word. His father had appropriately expressed concern on Lan Qiren’s behalf, his brother had refuted those concerns with well-reasoned logic; it was inappropriate for Lan Qiren to take such an intellectual discussion to heart.

That he had – and that he had forgotten, even temporarily and in the privacy of his own head, the rule do not argue with family for it does not matter who wins – was merely evidence once again that Lan Qiren was inferior to his brother, who through keeping a cool head had enabled their sect to turn what could have been an embarrassment into a victory.

As for his father…Lan Qiren shouldn’t have been surprised, that’s all. Hadn’t years and years taught him that fathers only gave what they chose to give and no more? He had long ago learned that his father was kind and noble and equitable, concerned with all the Lan sect disciples (but for his dearly beloved eldest) in the same way and the same manner; being disappointed to receive that and nothing more was only his own foolishness.

(He only wondered, in passing, why it had been his father’s glacial voice that had scared him so, compared to the familiar warmth of his brother’s anger.)

So fortified and reassured, Lan Qiren returned to the regular flow of daily life at the Cloud Recesses.

It was not easy. As his brother had predicted, rumors about his sworn brotherhood with Wen Ruohan sprang up at once, and many of his fellow disciples were prone to staring at him when they thought he wouldn’t notice. The teachers handed out many punishments for breaking the prohibition about talking behind people’s backs, although with a certain leniency that made Lan Qiren suspect that they themselves toed the line of that particular rule behind closed doors.

The rumors themselves were split between those that theorized that Wen Ruohan had used nefarious means to entrap Lan Qiren and force him to agree to brotherhood – the Fire Palace was mentioned often, as were various theoretical misapplications of cultivation techniques of dark and unsavory natures – and those that skipped over the how of brotherhood and went straight to speculating as to the why, which typically also involved a variety of references to misapplied cultivation techniques, this time of the sort most often found exclusively in certain types of low-brow spring books.

Someone even suggested that Wen Ruohan intended on taking Lan Qiren to bed as a cauldron, which was the stupidest idea out of the whole lot.

“Of course that can’t be true,” Lan Qiren patiently explained to Lan Yueheng, who had come to collect his geometry book. As a gesture of thanks for his support, Lan Qiren had read the whole thing and sent an annotated list of questions and comments; Lan Yueheng had practically turned pink with excitement when he’d seen it and then secluded himself for two days to write a response. Lan Qiren still didn’t see the appeal of geometry, but he’d managed to coax Lan Yueheng into a discussion of the mathematics of music theory, an area in which their particular interests overlapped, and he had hope of a fruitful dialogue continuing into the future. “At least traditionally, cauldrons are individuals with high cultivation potential that has yet to be developed – raw natural talent, in other words, which can then be refined into strength for another. My inborn talent is only moderate, even low, and my progress is primarily due to good resources and hard work. So even if someone put in the work to make me a cauldron, they wouldn’t get much out of me.”

Lan Yueheng nodded, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “So your brother would’ve been a better cauldron than you.”

“…that is correct, but please don’t say it.” Lan Qiren quietly pitied Lan Yueheng’s etiquette teachers, and spared a thought to hope that his cousin’s children, should he have them, would take more after whoever he married than him. Even if only because Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher himself one day, and he was sure that Lan Yueheng’s particularly brash and un-Lan-like bluntness would make for a terrible future student. “Perhaps it would be more helpful for you to think of it in the sense of energy transfers of heat? I’m already cold, so to speak, so he wouldn’t be able to draw out much heat from me.”

“Wait, if you’re cold and Sect Leader Wen is hot, would that make him the cauldron? Assuming you ever did dual cultivate.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s...not how that works, Yueheng-xiong. At all. I was merely attempting to use a metaphor to clarify the issue. Clearly I failed and only confused things further.”

Lan Yueheng shrugged. “At least you try,” he remarked. “And when you fail, you try again, doing something different. It’s better than the teachers who just do the same thing every time and blame you for being as bemused on the seventh repetition as you were on the first.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears go red at the compliment. “You’ve been here too long,” he reminded his cousin. “Your parents won’t be happy to see you spending too much time with me.”

“My parents don’t care. It’s my aunt and uncle who don’t like it. They say that people might start asking if I cultivate as a cauldron too –”

“Your parents listen to your aunt and uncle, so if they don’t like it, you shouldn’t disobey them. The rules say Be a filial child.”

“They also say Do not form cliques to exclude others, but that isn’t stopping the other disciples from playing favorites, is it?”

That was definitely one of the rules more honored in the breach, Lan Qiren thought with a sigh. But what could be done, when their elders did the same? The sect followed the example of its leader, and his father’s tendency towards favoritism were well known, albeit one that was widely indulged as a quirk rather than condemned as a serious flaw. 

“I will remind the teachers of that one,” he said. “Perhaps a refresher would be suitable, to remind people. But the rule are meant for your own discipline, not others, and – ”

“Just because other people aren’t following the rules doesn’t mean I shouldn’t, I know,” Lan Yueheng said with a sigh of his own. “I’ll go…oh! It’s getting late. Weren’t you supposed to go to the guest’s pavilion by the western watchtower already?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “I don’t have that patrol route in my schedule until the end of the week.”

“No, no! I was supposed to tell you! Lao Nie’s come to visit, and –”

There were rules against running in the Cloud Recesses, so Lan Qiren was slightly late despite his best efforts, but true to form Lao Nie didn’t admonish him: he only turned from where he was sitting in the pavilion and smiled, calling out, “Qiren! There you are!”

“Forgive –”

“Forgiven,” Lao Nie interrupted before Lan Qiren even got the first word out. Lan Qiren was relieved to see that there was neither food nor tea already prepared; he would have been mortified if it had grown cold while Lao Nie was waiting to see him. “And don’t bow, either. How have you been? Tell me people aren’t harassing you over the nonsense with Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, then hesitated.

“Do not tell lies,” Lao Nie observed, grimacing. “Ah, Qiren! Sometimes your brother’s worse than useless. It’s a pity, really, I hadn’t realized – well. At any rate, I’ve been bothering him for weeks to tell me about you and he wouldn’t say a word.”

“He was angry at me for messing up the conference,” Lan Qiren explained.

Lao Nie’s eyebrows arched. “You mean the conference where the Lan sect got first place in both major events and then extracted serious concessions from the Wen sect in a completely unexpected and nearly inexplicable political coup that got the whole cultivation world talking in awe at your political acumen? That conference?”

“I lost face for him. He thought – well, he’d thought it was worse than it was,” Lan Qiren hesitated. “He’s not the only one.”

Lao Nie huffed. “People are, by and large, stupid,” he declared. “Don’t let them get to you. They’ll change their tune soon enough.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure. “They say a reputation is like a porcelain vase,” he said, unable to conceal his worries in the face of someone actually expressing concern rather than curiosity. His dream was to be a traveling cultivator, and that would be much easier with a good name, which he had always had before – good, or at least boring, which was just fine with him. He preferred to be boring! It had never occurred to him that he might do something that would render him the subject of gossip; it had never happened before. “Once cracked…”

“Right now, there’s only some bored people speculating that there might be a crack,” Lao Nie said. His confidence was contagious; Lan Qiren couldn’t help but relax a little in the face of it. “No one’s actually sure about it, and they’re willing to hear otherwise – things aren’t yet so bad. Don’t worry. I’ve spoken with Hanhan about it already.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears burning in shame. “Lao Nie! You didn’t!”

Especially since that would undoubtedly only make Wen Ruohan even more angry…

Lao Nie laughed and put his hand on his head, rubbing it lightly. “I did. Not in your name, but rather his own – do you think the Wen sect wants to get a reputation for being led by a man with an unhealthy interest in noble-born children? It’s in his interest to get this cleared up as much as you.”

Lan Qiren felt the tension rush out of his shoulders all at once. That hadn’t occurred to him, but now that Lao Nie had pointed it out, it was clear enough.

After all, for all the talk going around about Lan Qiren, it was widely agreed that he was clearly the victim in whatever scenario they’d thought up, whether through having his oath extracted under torture or by force; even among those who theorized that Wen Ruohan intended to use him as a cauldron, the reputation Lan Qiren might get would be, at worst, that of a seductive flirt who couldn’t be resisted. Lan Qiren’s brother had scoffed audibly the first time he’d heard that, saying that such a rumor would naturally be dispelled the moment anyone came in contact with Lan Qiren for more than a moment, and in all honesty Lan Qiren agreed with his assessment. He had the classic Lan sect looks, yes, but so did many others, and he had a demeanor as stern as a schoolmaster, giving off the feel of an old man even though he wasn’t even of age.

Meanwhile, for Wen Ruohan, the consequences were undoubtedly more dire – if he was said to have a taste for boys, especially noble-born ones, the other sects might be afraid to send their sons around him. It was a different reputation by far than his taste for torture, or his supposed use of dark and forbidden cultivation; those would make people fear him, while lusting for children would only make people disdain him.

Still, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure how exactly even someone of Wen Ruohan’s cunning would go about fixing such a mistake – and that was putting aside why he would make such a mistake over Lan Qiren in the first place. He hadn’t had a chance to explain to his brother his theory that Wen Ruohan had acted just to irritate Lao Nie, and in the end he’d decided it wasn’t worth drawing his brother’s attention back to the subject.

Besides, if Lan Qiren could figure it out, with his notorious inability to understand interpersonal affairs, then surely his brother was more than able to do the same. It wasn’t as if Lao Nie were being shy about it…

“Hanhan said he had something in mind,” Lao Nie was saying, shaking his head. “He usually does, I find, and each idea’s more awful than the next.”

Lan Qiren shifted a little from one foot to the other. “If you know he’s awful, why do you…” he hesitated. “I mean, you call him – an endearment.”

“Oh, he’s a little awful, no doubt,” Lao Nie said, sounding rather fond. “But as long as it’s not my sect, what do I care? Anyway, Qiren, you shouldn’t worry. If there’s one thing you can trust with Hanhan, it’s that he takes care of anything associated with himself.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really like the fact that he was now counted among that number.

It didn’t seem all that safe.

“Though of course that doesn’t protect him from you,” Lao Nie added, suddenly smirking, and Lan Qiren blinked owlishly at him. “Apparently, you’re a very talkative drunk.”

Lan Qiren’s face burned red.

“And effusive, too! According to Hanhan, even after you forced him down in his seat to keep listening to you, you kept waving your hands around while you were talking and knocking things over; he had to pin you down to keep you from destroying things by accident.”

That would explain the marks on his arms.

“Apparently, you didn’t appreciate him doing that and kneed him right in the –”

“You really think he can make the rumors go away?” Lan Qiren hastily interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck a little as if it would make the heat of hideous embarrassment go away. That tallied up a little too well with the physical evidence to be anything other than accurate. “There’s – a lot of them. And I’d like to have a clean reputation.”

“You will,” Lao Nie said, thankfully distracted from his mortifyingly plausible story. “Anyone who meets you will know at once that you’re a righteous and upstanding person.”

Lan Qiren liked that better than the way his brother had put it.

“It’s just that you haven’t had a chance to make your name in the cultivation world,” Lao Nie said. He sounded sure of himself. “You’ll do wonderful things one day, Qiren. I’ve no doubt.”

“I don’t want to do wonderful things,” Lan Qiren said, scowling. “I just want to travel around and help people.”

“Yes, I know,” Lao Nie said, and he sounded fond again, just the way he did when he was talking about Wen Ruohan, or even Lan Qiren’s brother. Truly, Lan Qiren thought to himself, the Nie sect had no idea how lucky they were to have him as sect leader. “Really, Qiren, it’s like I said: don’t worry about it. Now come, tell me what you’ve been studying recently.”

Lan Qiren had promised himself that he would reduce the amount of time he spent with Lao Nie on his occasional visits to the Lan sect, not wanting to risk inciting Wen Ruohan’s unreasonable anger and jealousy any further.

He would need to assign himself an appropriate punishment for breaking that promise, he thought, and sat down to start telling Lao Nie all about the work he was doing with one of his teachers on comparing the origin points of the various Lan sect rules, as well as his experiments on arrays to enhance open-air acoustics that would, he hoped, eventually be inscribed on all Lan sect instruments to increase the range and impact of their spell songs.

He even mentioned the possibility of a joint project on the mathematics of musical theory, and for whatever reason he thought Lao Nie looked especially pleased about that.

He didn’t think about Wen Ruohan at all.

[nekoannie-chan]

What if I can’t remember you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word count: 319 words.

Summary: You had an accident on a mission and lost your memory.

Warnings: Loss of memory, mention of accident.

A/N: This is my entry to @kitkatd7 ’s 600 follower writing challenge with the dialogue prompt #6:

“The funny thing is I can’t even remember the first time I’ve heard your name. How do I not remember something that made such a big difference in my life?”

Thanks to my beta reader @saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake, please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi​ @smokeandnailz​ @white-wolf1940​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae  @harrysthiccthighss​ @marvelatthisone

You shake your head, what was going on? The daze was too much, you slowly turned your head to the side, why was there a machine?

Then your gaze turned to the man who had just entered the room. You tried to remember how you got there. What had happened? Was that man your doctor?

“Doll...”

“What happened to me?” You questioned a little exhausted as you tried to get up.

Steve stopped you as you pushed yourself up to sit. "You must rest, you had an accident on the last mission,” he explained. “I'm going to call the doctor, okay?”

It had been a week since you returned from the hospital to the compound. You saw the photos and reports of the missions you participated in. You couldn't remember anything. How were you supposed to continue if you didn’t even remember your past, let alone who you were?

The photos indicated that you were in a relationship with Steve. How long have you been together? 

Steve walked into the room, kissed your cheek, and put a gift box in front of you.

“Tha-thanks, did I forget any important dates?” You questioned nervously.

"Our anniversary was when you were unconscious in the hospital, “Steve clarified.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I...”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted when he noticed that your nervousness and anguish were increasing. “Don't worry, I know you don’t remember it. Just know I love you and I promise to take care of you no matter what.”

“The funny thing is I can’t even remember the first time I’ve heard your name. How do I not remember something that made such a big difference in my life?”

“Hey, don't be mortified, it's okay, I'll help you remember everything that's happened.

“What if I can't? “You asked with tears in your eyes.

"Then I’ll fall in love again with you as many times as necessary, “he replied, kissing your hand.