#but at least the universe isn’t too cruel to every version of he and his brothers

[lieutenantbiscute]

*Slams open door*

Bro-

Bro remember that ask you sent me about your Shellshock au meeting my Turtles Forever au??? I'd just thought of something horrid.

Ronin Mikey.

Can you imagine how absolutely devastating it'd be to him??? To see these adult turtles who got to grow up and not be in a war and get their happy endings??? To see one of his older brothers being a father and married?? To seeing Mona Lisa who in another reality would have been his sister in law??? Can you imagine how awful and broken he'd feel when he sees this tired but happy little family, when he sees his brothers finally looking at ease and having lived to adulthood without being brutally murdered one by one????? It'd be like a sick joke to Ronin Mikey, a cruel slap in the face from fate to see them and thinking of his world and how he and his family were robbed of domesticity such as the Shellshock family.

Just......the pain bro.

How dare you I just got off of WORK—

BRO

BRO I DIDNT EVEN THINK OF THAT

Ronin cringing and shying away from having to interact with the ShellShock boys for fear of any untapped jealousy coming out. Knowing that his family lives and grows with 4 additional boys hurts.

The only family he has left is April and Casey Marie and to know that Casey himself is still alive and kicking alongside his brothers hurts. Sure it isn’t all sunshine for the ShellShock boy, they still lost their father; the same as Ronin. But they got to live their lives to the fullest, even with the scars.

Ronin definitely can’t look at any photos Raph cares to share with the other variants of he and his brothers. But just by hearing Rise Leo make a comment about how he and the kid look alike is enough pain as it is.

ShellShock Leo know the haunting look of Ronin right off the back and Ronin hates it. Hates that no matter what his older brother; in any universe, can read him like a book at a moments glance sometimes. ShellShock Leo wouldn’t comment on it, he’s been in Ronin’s shoes before with his own brothers.

So on occasion he’ll just sit by Ronin. Never comment about who he actually is even though he has a sad and accurate hunch. Never talk about what he’s gone through to save face, just being there in the moment.

For a small moment, Ronin can pretend is just him and his brother again. 16 and young.

And so, so naive.

[frostbitebakery]

There’s a room where the Light won’t find you

Surrender AU

There are certain misconceptions when it comes to the… the them of them, Cody has to admit.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says instead of answering the same question the Commander has asked him twice now. The statement sits uncomfortable under his breastbone. He lost count how often he’s had to say it in his life.

“Are you that codependent,” the replica of his mouth snarks back. Curious, usually he and his counterparts have more patience than this.

The answer to that is a definite yes. Obi-Wan and he, they’re woven together. Only Obi-Wan’s lightsaber could cut them apart. He wonders where it is after they’ve taken it from its resting place above his heart.

“You’ll protect it,” Obi-Wan had asked, voice cracking and begging, closing Cody’s palms around the weapon’s hilt. It had been after Ghost had rescued them from that hellhole, after Obi-Wan’s hands had become too weak to wield his lightsaber despite the trials of reconstructive surgeries and physical therapy.

“Like your life,” Cody had sworn, lips finally not sore anymore from the ripped out stitches, the punishments from their captors that were so much more effective when delivered on Cody than Obi-Wan himself.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says again.

The Commander pushes out a sigh. “He’s… okay.”

Debatable. Cody isn’t there and no one knows - can know - how Obi-Wan’s hands spasm after a while, how his knee is acting up. How his grip on himself has been slipping, recently. The tight control even in the chaos had held steady for so long. Because even changed like this, Obi-Wan has been a master of his own self. Until they found these counterparts at least.

They’re so Light, hammers into Cody’s head.

“General Kenobi is asking him some questions himself,” the Commander states like he’s dangling bait.

Cody sincerely wishes him good luck with that. Getting an answer to “What do you want for breakfast” is a discovery of heretofore unknown wells of patience and the higher ground most days. Honey toast, by the way. “I would like to have proof of life of my General.”

Cody, they’re so Light. Obi-Wan is alone with a beacon to the Light he’s been desperately searching for in dozens of universes. He will do something well-thought-through and stupidly risky.

The Commander watches him for a few long moments, and Cody watches right back. He doesn’t smirk in triumph when the Commander activates the comm on his vambrace.

“General, could you put—,” Cody’s mouth twitches at the Commander’s faltering, the steeling for the reality of them, “the Sith on the comm?”

A moment later Obi-Wan is in the holo. Bound but whole, because the good guys don’t believe in torture. “Are you alright?” he asks, sickly golden eyes roving over what the holo displays of Cody.

Cody smiles, softening further once Obi-Wan echoes him with his own. “Yes. You?”

There’s misconceptions about them. Other people’s delusions of knowing them seem to think Obi-Wan and he can only be brutal, be cruel and harsh. Towards everyone else, and towards each other. Trapped in a bloody dance or something rivaling that kind of stupid. Those people don’t, thankfully, know the gentleness flowing through their touches. They kiss the other in reverence, soft and precious monster. What is between them, a connection forged in blood and pain, is anything but. It’s the one thing where they’re truly selfish. Holding each other close, burrowed into each other.

When Obi-Wan had asked him what he wants, the answer had been simple and sprouting thorns.

“You,” Cody had answered, sure and steadfast.

Obi-Wan had almost flinched, cane scraping over the floor. “Even as I am now?”

Always. At every second their lives had existed in orbit to each other. Every possible face Obi-Wan had worn, Cody had wanted him. But— “I think,” he had replied, stroking the paper-thin grey skin under a yellow eye, “this is the only version I’m allowed to have.”

“I miss you,” Obi-Wan says on the holo, and Cody goes cold.

“Obi-Wan, don’t—“

The connection winks out and he knows that it was Obi-Wan, that the Force suppression cuffs must have some fault he detected and exploited.

He whips his head up, urgency clocking in inside his chest and ticking. “Stun him,” he grits out, just to not yell, and startles the Commander. “Make him unconscious any way necessary.” He swallows. “But please don’t kill him.” I need him.

[iheartgod175]

Some Thoughts (Mostly ZP, but still)…

—I’ve kinda hopped back onto the Zula Patrol train again since writing Turnabout, but I am planning on doing art and stories for other fandoms, too, of course ^^ I actually worked on chapter 4 of DCR and some more of Love Language for the first time in a month! Which is amazing progress since I had both writer’s block and worries that maybe a lot of folks aren’t interested in the story. But even if that were true, it’s not going to stop me from posting stories, especially about my favorite childhood show ^^

—I went a bit in depth about an OC who gets some focus in both DCR and a few other entries, Firestorm, who’s a military commander in one of the other Zulean branches (I’ll detail my own headcanons on the structure of the Zulean government in another headcanons post) and is one of the few people that Bula gets along with outside of his team because like him, she doesn’t tolerate the BS/corruption that goes on in the government. And somehow, I got the idea that in an alternate universe, they end up as a couple. It has me cracking up because now, I have three potential love interests for Bula: Zeeter (with whom I can see happening even in canon), Bonnie (my old OC whom I’ve revamped and even have a solo story for), and now Firestorm (who might get teased in the future). Bula’s literally building his own harem, LOL XD

—And then it got me thinking that if Bula’s a typical “clueless harem protagonist” (although unlike them, he makes himself useful and isn’t admired due to some random skill he has out of nowhere), Ricochet would be the “smug harem protagonist with a heart of gold” in that he dated Denise, Diane, Melissa, and many other women before he settled down. Also, in a few AUs, he does have a better relationship with Serena, Denise’s outlaw sister, and their relationship borders on UST. Silly thoughts are silly, LOL

—I’ve also had an idea regarding the Third Sight ability. Originally, this ability has no offensive capability in any field whatsoever. But then I had a thought: what if there was a way, theoretically, that a user could hurt/even kill someone with their mind? It came about from a thought that DS! Elfilis (with whom Multo interacts with in my latest crossover) could totally do this easily, since he’s basically seen as a god (although he’s mortal) and he’s a lot more powerful/experienced with his psychic powers. Not to mention that between him and Multo, his cruel streak is not only bigger, but also more terrifying. It got me thinking that the Zuleans who have the Third Sight can do this same thing, namely in a moment of pure distress/fury, stemming from the desire to make the perpetrator feel every ounce of pain they felt at watching their loved one get hurt/killed. The name for this attack is called “Flashpoint” (or at least, it’s a working idea for a name). I had the idea that Multo accidentally stumbles across this ability after someone got the great (read: stupid) idea to hurt Zeeter or any of the others in front of him, and unable to physically defend them (due to being trapped), he’s filled with both horror at his loved ones being hurt, and pure rage at the perp, wanting nothing but for him to feel that same pain and worse. Cue that happening to the perp, with the guy literally losing his mind. With Multo being the kind of person he is, he’s shocked/horrified that he can do such a thing. One of the villains in my current WIP, Nova, takes an interest in Multo after finding out about him using this.

—And now, a part of me wants to do an alternative version of Multo that’s evil. That would be pretty terrifying. O.O

—Oh, I’m also thinking of getting back to The Return of the Phantom Empire soon, thanks to working on Firestorm’s profile. Just trying to work on the general plot of the side story, which focuses on Quick Draw McGraw, and possibly Quack-Up, namely in regards to the trauma he suffered before he joined the Galactic Guardians. This chapter isn’t gonna be quite as long as the first three chapters, but that might change, lol XD

[historia-vitae-magistras]

do you have any thoughts on prussia and Canada non romantically? I think they could have an interesting dynamic that’s way overshadowed by all the shipping in the fandom, like they were enemies at one point and i think Prussia would fear Canada bc Canadians had a reputation of being really strong on the battlefield in both world wars. I think they’re def chill w/ each other modern day though.

I understand if this just isn’t ur thing, just those two are making me think thoughts and I cannot find any non romantic content of them

this was all sparked by your fic where Matt and jack are captured by Gilbert and Ludwig btw, I really liked how you wrote the dialogue there. Also you mentioned they had interacted before, care to elaborate? 👀

Oh, man yeah. Idk what precisely about prucan makes me want to jump in a lake, but in my universe, Matt literally took or nearly took Gilbert's head off with an axe in 1918 to slow the German spring offensive so lol yeah. That was his little side quest during the whole 'Alfred was mad Jack and Zee moved back behind the lines without Matt' fic from a while back. A solid quarter of Matt's war crimes were directly against Gilbert and Ludwig personally.

With the whole invisible meme and how practically every man, woman and child in Quebec participated in extremely severe brutality against the Americans and British in the 17th and 18th centuries and then threw our war crimes record on top, it's just too perfect not to write him as a trench wraith. Other nations have limits. Europe may stay their hands personally often because they never know when they might need that ally later. But Matt's never held back in his life. He couldn't afford to when he was small, and crawling on his belly through no man's land was easy for him. Ghosting his way behind enemy lines, spitting skulls and slitting throats is nothing new for him. He did that as a child, the wee freak.

And Gilbert did, too. Knight, crusader, zealot whose hand was certainly not stayed. Mutual recognition of being so fucked up they can't spend much time with the other without being reminded of some USDA Grade-A beef. I fully adhere to the headcanons that Matt's a walking flashback for Gilbert in some circumstances. But they get along fine. It's incredibly funny to picture a 1,200-year-old war machine chatting with Alfred or Arthur and then absolutely jumping out of his skin because Matt appears out of nowhere wanting affection or is just interested in the conversation. The whole anglophone world has swallowed Alfred's or even Arthur's perspective about Matt being the milder, sweeter version of Alfred, but Gilbert's specific situational PTSD just sweating bullets gives me life. It's a kind of cruel, but Matt takes utterly too much pleasure in it.

As for before that point, the long 19th century of Anglo-German fuckery as Anglo-Saxonism and a largely German monarchy drew Britain into closer cultural ties among the elite of Germany and Prussia; Gilbert often found himself in Arthur's company. They fucked a lot, mutually griping about their children. Gilbert and Matthew met and saw each other, and I want to rewrite that ficlet where Gilbert isn't exactly clocking him when he really should be in my current timeline lol. The part from canon about how everyone sees Matt in his early life as being a menacing figure at Arthur's shoulder greatly appeals to me. The guard dog with the loyalty and obedience of the best of Arthur's hounds.

Like at least once in a group drinking setting, Francois' arse has caught and kept Arthur's attention and Matt and Gilbert find themselves at a table having a conversation and swapping stories that would have them both before the Hague if they were more recent. And they just vibe. Both men depend utterly on the goodwill of often testy and impatient brothers. There is a loneliness of having one neighbour that matches fairly well with having mostly neighbours who probably hate Gil's guts on some level and loving women who could kill them. This absolute canyon of difference in how Gilbert is relegated to the museum display case, and Matt is an active, dynamic part of the world political system that keeps them apart.

[fictional-character-whore]

Hi everyone this is @fictional-character-whore with a brand new masterlist! I’m starting to get back into the fanfiction writing grind and i decided to create an official masterlist that i will update whenever i post fanfics or writings.

I also have a wattpad account with a couple of fics already uploaded from a couple of years ago that i keep promising to update and rewrite but never do lol and it’s under the username of “@Sodonewithreality” - someone else already had this username on tumblr when i created this account :(

Anyway I’ll let you all know if I’m open for requests or not in my bio so keep a look out ig and if you do request something but you’re unsure if i write for certain characters or topics, dm me anyway and i’ll chat with you about it!

btw I’m not very consistent with my writing and updating but that doesn’t matter, just enjoy what i give anyway lol.

Also if you dislike my writing style or the topics that i write about don’t bother writing hate comments or dming me cuz you will be blocked, i don’t need no hate and negativity so just scroll past, skip my works and don’t read them. We all have different interests and opinions and i respect that in a healthy and non-degrading way so you should too. But regarding sensitive topics if you have any positive feedback on how i can use trigger warnings better and write it in a more accurate, relatable, or sensitive way then feel free to comment or dm me about it and i will take action immediately - NO HATE ON THIS BLOG!

I hope i wrote all that right and don’t cause any dramas with you guys - i just want to share my works and have a good time with you guys that’s all.

ANYWAY - i hope you enjoy my fanfictions!

PEAKY BLINDERS

       Jack Nelson:

Misconception - angst, enemies to lovers, gangster shit, heavy tw

Y/n Shelby has decided that she needs a break from the gangster life and travels to America with her cousin Michael Gray for a change of scene. At least that’s what she tells anyone who asks. The real reason was that her older brother Tommy needs someone to run the business in America behind the scenes while watching their seemingly untrustworthy cousin behind his back. While she spies on Michael and his growing ambition, his new relationship with Gina Nelson provides Y/n with the key to the heart of Boston’s famous gangster, Jack Nelson who proves to be just as deceptive and dangerous as Tommy. Will she be able to handle Jack Nelson and his cruel games or will her family reunion knock some much needed sense back into her? Because if Y/n wants to help her family rise to the top and prevent the evident war looming over their heads, sense isn’t the only thing she’ll need. 

STATUS: under construction 

SPIDERMAN (SPIDERVERSE MOVIES)        Miguel O’Hara:

I’m Not Yours - angst, forbidden love, heavy tw 

Every universe has their own version of Spiderman, including their matching lover, but your universe seems hell bent on making sure your lovers want nothing to do with you. And in a universe where extreme violence and public manipulation are its most prominent factors you can understand why love wouldn’t work out for you as Spiderwoman. But when a variant of your lover shows up in a matching spider suit just as damaged as you are, you can’t help but desperately chase at a chance for the love you crave so badly, no matter the consequences.  

STATUS: under construction

THE LAST OF US         Jesse:

This is How We End - angst, friends to enemies to lovers, heavy tw (game accurate violence/themes)

Y/n Miller has the fattest crush on Jesse, and everyone besides him and his girlfriend Dina know it. Her best friends encourage her to chase after her long-time crush but besides the fact that he has a girlfriend, Y/n and Jesse are ex-friends, having had a major falling out not long ago. But with the help of Jesse and Dina’s inconsistent relationship, a revengeful group of ex-fireflies, and about a million infected, just about anything can happen. 

STATUS: under construction

THE MAZE RUNNER

      Newt:

The Maze Runner (OC Reader) – angst, fluff, wrote this when I was 14 so it’s super cringe.

CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 

All the boys in the Maze thought that Alby, the leader of the Gladers, was the first ever to come up from the box into the glade. But what if they were wrong? What if there was another Glader who had arrived before him, someone who had been there since day one, someone who suffered with her friends and struggled to find a way out of the dreadful maze that has trapped them for three years? But none of them knew for sure and the only clues they had to this person’s existence was bright coloured paint that splattered the walls of the maze and bark of the forest trees. Perhaps there were certain few Gladers that still made contact with her during their days in the Maze, and perhaps one of them visited her more than the others. But when a Greenie enters the Glade and everything starts to change, will this mystery Glader reveal herself to help escape the Maze for good, or will she continue to hide from them all and risk both her freedom, friendships and possible a relationship?

STATUS: discontinued

RIM OF THE WORLD       Gabriel:

Gabriel? Like the Angel? (OC Reader) – fluff, angst, cursing, also wrote this when I was like 13 so it’s even worse than the maze runner one lmao, MEGA CRINGE.

CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 - CHAPTER 4 - CHAPTER 5 - CHAPTER 6 

Lydia Lupis had lived a terrible 14 years of life. She went to a school full of drug dealing thieves and gangs, lived in a shitty neighbourhood, had shitty parents that didn’t even give a shit about her to come home and a brother that treated her like absolute trash. The only half decent thing in her life was a stupid camp: Camp Rim of the World. Her brother Conrad had a job there but instead of actually doing it, he just snogged any girl he could find, leaving Lydia to do his job for him. Lydia was never that much of a social person and usually spent most of her time at the camp either working or in her own cabin reading. Lydia expected these school holidays to be the same as every other, but what she didn’t know was that these holidays were going to change her life. Aliens were taking over planet earth and after following three kids into the woods and meeting a strange boy, the fate of the world somehow rest in their hands. With her new found friends will they be able to save the world before humanity becomes extinct and will a certain strange boy steal Lydia’s heart or smash it into a million pieces?

STATUS: discontinued

[rainy-day-coffee]

hi... how about head cannons about the dorm leaders with a magical girl mc from either the puella magi magica madoka, magical girl site, magical girl raising project or princess tutu universe please?

I'll be doing Magical Girl Raising Project for this one! I’ll be using the abilities found in the anime since I’m not creative enough to think of any myself. The personalities of the characters themselves have nothing to do with the abilities I chose, they’re their own person! This is written as platonic! I hope this is alright!

As an extra note, this was a really interesting topic to write about. I enjoyed it! I actually just binge watched this anime for this request! It was quite good, I might pick up the light novels!

Warning: Mild mentions of gore; spoilers for Magical Girl Raising Project(?)

Dorm leaders reacting to a Magical Girl Mc

A new game has been released! Customize your own Magical Girl and work hard to defeat monsters!

Granted a 1-in-10,000 chance to be a real-life Magical Girl, the unfortunate souls who agree to the contract are unknowingly pulled into a world of bloodshed. All Magical Girls are expected to collect Magical candies through acts of helpfulness. Whomever is at the bottom of the ranking list by the end of the week is greeted by death. That is, if they can even make it that far.

Magic: Swimming through objects as if they were water - the objects do not affect the user as they pass through them.

He’s never heard of an ability quite like yours! It isn’t teleportation--it’s literally going through objects, ignoring any kind of barrier. It sounds impossible. Understandably, he doesn’t believe you until you show him.

Please refrain from popping out of random places in an attempt to scare him. He doesn’t want to be on edge everyday, the stress he has now is more than enough.

He’s curious about the whole situation. Just how and why did these “people” wrap you (and others) into such a terrible contract? How is it possible to grant these special abilities onto otherwise magicless people? Unfortunately, you most likely don’t have answers for those questions.

Sadly, Riddle doesn’t know of a way to help you out of this. The library may have some information, but the chances are slim nonetheless. He can offer assistance in candy collecting instead!

Something always seems to be going on at his dorm, it would help him greatly if you were to keep an eye on everything and everyone. He knows it isn’t much, but every little bit counts. You have his full support.

Magic: Entering the dreams of others - the ability to pass through the Dream World, granting access to the dreams of those who are currently sleeping.

He’s extremely annoyed. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s only seen you a couple times before, so why do you seem to plague all of his dreams?

In his dreams, you move so vividly and in-character, it baffles him. Dream versions of people can be accurate, but never to such an extent each time. He’ll confront you about it soon enough. He has no evidence of what you’re doing, however vivid memories of dream-you push him to demand answers anyways.

Highly uncomfortable to know his dreams, his usual safe place, can be invaded by a person. He demands that you stop. You can go bother someone else, he doesn’t need that kind of help. If he sees you in there one more time, he may have to resort to other methods to get you to stop.

In regards to earning candies, unless you ask him specifically for help, there isn’t much he can do. You can always help Ruggie out with chores around Savanaclaw and you’ll be set. It’s a good deal for both sides, you can earn some candies and Leona can finally sleep comfortably again.

He finds the system you’re stuck in deplorable. Unfortunately, he can’t get you out of it, but if you ever need extra help he can always have Ruggie find one or two ways to get you those extra candies you need.

Magic: Hearing the thoughts of those in need - with enough training, the user can pinpoint the location of a person. Additionally, they can hear thoughts apart from cries for help.

Your special magic interests him greatly. He already has a good pool of information of all the students, but being able to hear their most inner thoughts is something truly amazing. No amount of research could easily give him those kinds of details.

He has the twins watch over you for a bit, gathering as much information as they can about your situation and what you go about doing.

Given the circumstances, he doubts he can rob this ability of yours through a contract. This does however present an amazing opportunity.

This could blossom into a wonderful partnership. You need to collect candies, and he’s always willing to accept requests from those “poor” souls who need help. By helping him, you can meet your quota! The rules never did mention what kind of help you were limited to offer after all.

He pities you, nothing can be done about your situation at the moment. You can rest assured though, you’ll never be at the bottom of the leaderboard with him around!

When time allows it, Floyd and Jade will be busy poking their noses where they don’t belong. The mascot that appears when you’re around seems to come from that phone you use. If they can see it, then that means these beings have made a mistake somehow. Is it possible to find a way to free you from this through that?

Magic: Transforming into any biologically living being - the size and shape of the creature do not matter, anything is fair game.

When he first discovers your special magic, he’ll be amazed! Transformation magic isn’t exactly easy, so being able to turn into whatever creature you want sounds like a lot of fun!

He’ll be begging you to turn into a wide variety of animals. Can you please turn into a tiger? How about an elephant? Maybe an alpaca? This could go on for hours if you don’t stop him.

Upon learning the darker side of the Magical Girl world, he starts to cry. He knows the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but this is too cruel. You didn’t know you would suffer this way. They should have at least given you all the information beforehand. Better yet, they shouldn’t be doing something so awful in the first place.

Because he finds it hard to keep secrets from Jamil, he ends up telling him about you. He then needs to convince Jamil that you aren’t trying to get him killed.

He goes around asking if people need help. He wants to do everything he can to ensure you survive. Money can’t get you out of this game, he’s tried to use it but that mascot that follows you around always refuses it.

Kalim doesn’t want you to die. Just thinking about it makes his head spin and worry bubble. It wouldn’t be his fault if you died in the first place, but the guilt would consume him entirely.

Magic: Freely manipulating sound - the user can generate sound from anywhere and even recreate the voices of others. As an added result of this ability, the user has enhanced hearing.

Vil won’t forgive you if you decide to mimic Epel’s voice so he can escape. He may be evading his lessons for now, but Vil will find a way to drill them into him later on.

He never would have thought such a thing was possible. This terrible fate you’ve had forced onto you makes no sense. The beautiful power you’ve been given is nothing compared to the price. He doesn’t blame you, he blames whatever is doing this. 

If such a game exists in the world of Twisted Wonderland, he’ll use his influence to dissuade people from playing. Vil will do this behind the scenes of course, his public image has to remain intact.

He actively requests your assistance. For example, helping his dorm improve their instrument playing--your impressive hearing can detect small mistakes they need to work on. Apart from this, he regrettably can’t offer more help.

Hone your abilities and work with what you have. He knows you can prevail. Please take care of yourself as you move forward.

Magic: Receiving one futuristic tool a day - the ability to randomly pick one useful tool out of 444,444,444. The tool breaks down and is no longer of use after a day passes.

He’s in awe. A real life Magical Girl! To think they could really exist outside of anime! Just what kind of world did you come from? Forget living in a world where magic is common, Magical Girls are on a different level entirely! Curiosity gnaws at him, but given how shy he is he won’t approach you with questions himself. Ortho is more than happy to ask any questions for him in his place though!

Once he finds out you’re one of those Magical Girls, he feels a tad sympathetic. You really got the short end of the stick in life didn’t you? He knew the possibility was there, that trope is not uncommon, but a small piece of him wished it wasn’t the case.

He supposes your special magic can be compared to gacha luck. You never really know what you’re going to get. Unfortunately, in your case you can’t even calculate rates for good rolls.

If you’re willing to let him, he’ll happily take apart the tools and gadgets you get from your daily pull. One of those future items should help him create even better machines than he can now! And even they can’t, disassembling and reassembling objects he’s never seen is a thrill in and of itself

If you happen to hear a small tip from Ortho or someone else about an issue occurring around campus, it may or may not have been Idia. He has eyes all around the school, spotting problems is quite easy.

He’ll be rooting for you from the sidelines. You’re a protagonist in this story, he hopes you can make it through to the end.

Magic: Extreme regeneration - being able to recover from any wound so long as a portion of the user’s body is left.

Mortified when he finds your body all mangled and bruised after a rough “accident.” Malleus is ready to destroy whoever or whatever did this to you. He cares about you greatly, the very thought of seeing you in such a state makes his stomach churn and pure rage wash over him.

Once you explain your situation, he can grasp enough to understand the major gist of it. He doesn’t quite know what a “Magical Girl” is but obviously it isn’t something good. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in such a terrible situation.

To know that you can take care of yourself in the face of danger, makes him relieved. Although he doesn’t like the idea of you getting hurt at all, a healing ability is always wonderful to possess.

While you earn candies, Malleus will be working on a way to free you.

Even if these beings who granted you this ability are “all-powerful,” his magical capabilities are among the top in all the world. Perhaps, he can start by politely asking for answers from the leader of this group. If that seems to fail, killing off that mascot seems like a good place to start instead.

[tuiyla]

hi :)

this is sort of a strange topic, but i've been thinking about klaine and brittana over the past few days and how their storylines would've been different if say, kurt and blaine had both been girls instead and brittany and santana had been guys. i talked to a couple of my friends about it and one of them gave me this brilliant response to my question about klaine.

so as a brittana fan, how do you think brittana's storyline would have changed if they were both boys instead of girls (maybe popular football players who slept together instead of cheerios?) how would their characters be different? would there be aspects of their storyline that would need significant adjustment?

obviously not expecting as long of a response as the one i linked (unless you want to 😂) but i would like to hear your opinion because i always enjoy reading your takes :)

Hello hello! Oh I love that response, excellent content by @hummels-turn. Can't promise to be as detailed haha at least not now but I might return to the topic in the future and in any case, honoured to have been asked for a Brittana perspective!

I think the big thing is that everything in Glee is so gendered, much more than I've seen fans acknowledge it in analysis so far, and that's doubly true for Klaine and Brittana because of the queer aspects. And then of course Glee's own sexism as a show which, is A Thing, but for this answer I'm just gonna pretend abominations like IKAG didn't exist - we're gonna erase it from existence anyway! Yay, I'm already loving this thought experiment. I’m also gonna assume it’s not a complete gender swap for every character.

This is mostly about background/first two seasons stuff and less a reimagining of specific plotlines and more just a general thought process of how they’d even come to be as an mlm couple. The sections are barely separate thoughts but I needed to break it up somehow lol; I’m long-winded, not cruel. I’ve seen the names Santiago and Brett used for gender swaps before and even though I don’t, like, Love That (because of a Santana/Brett fic that scarred me), I’ll use those names to keep it simple.

Titans instead of Cheerios

I think they’d definitely be on the football team because that’s the most surefire way of keeping their popularity and overall status. They are also still athletic and I feel like the Cheerios was about a sense of belonging, too, so being Titans instead of Cheerios makes sense. There are already differences here because of the inherent contrast between being a jock and a cheerleader cheering for a jock, so basically what all of this is already making me realize is that there’s so much to talk about with Glee and gender dynamics. But I won’t digress, another day.

So Santiago and Brett are both football players and I think it’s interesting if they use their sexuality in much the same way, i.e. essentially to gain popularity but more so a reputation by sleeping around. Only in this version they’re not the slutty cheerleader archetype but more like what Puck is in canon: the stud who really gets around. At least Brett is because Brittany’s (bi)sexuality even in canon is always presented as such a casual thing. She just genuinely enjoys sex and sure, there’s an aspect of reputation to it and there’s much to speculate about deeper issues, even, (”alien invasion” and all that) but it’s not a conscious social status thing like it is for Santana. So Brett is also very sexually liberated and fluid and him being a guy, he isn’t considered a slut because of it. And Santiago also gets around a lot and gets much the same admiration for it but much like Santana, he has a more well-defined albeit on/off relationship with a Cheerio - the Santana to his Puck, so to say.

But here’s the biggie with the gender swapped version: Santiago and Brett simply can’t happen the same way Brittana did. Brittana started out as a thing for the male gaze, both in- and out of universe, and the dynamics of that would be completely different if they were guys. Not saying Santiago and Brett stand no chance and far be it for me to imply that it’s any easier for wlw, but Brettiago(?) can’t work the same way Brittana did. Them making out at parties would come with instant homophobic vitriol instead of being dismissed or cheered on as hot. I think they’d still find each other attractive and might even begin a secret thing like Brittana did but their story would unfold very differently.

Santiago Lopez

Santana’s whole thing is that she can have her cake and eat it: make out with Brittany and still be considered hot and popular, even more so because of it because people dismiss wlw attraction as being for show. And Brittana fully take advantage of that, as seen through their date with Finn. So she has her cake and is kinda with Brittany but eats it too because she’s not out and labelled as a lesbian. Except, eating it makes her so, so miserable in the first two seasons and it comes with comphet (which--- is an essay we’ll get to, as I’ve promised to you and many others lol) and self-sabotage and to the general detriment of her relationships. So it’s not really a win-win, and it’s very far from being that for Santiago.

Because of the differences in how lesbian and gay attraction are treated, Santiago suffers and deals in different ways. Let’s assume he still has Alma as her grandmother and an abuela like that would mess up any nieto. For some reason I have this feeling Alma would feel differently about a grandson, putting him on a pedestal and spoiling him a little but still with the same belittlements that Santana refers to - maybe just more subtle. Basically, thanks Abuela! And her homophobia might be a lot more open and hateful of gay men specifically, which is bound to affect little Santiago. So now he not only internalizes homophobia and externalizes it as anger like Santana did but has the added pressure of being a disappointment to his abuela in a way that’s different to Santana’s fears.

Santiago would know that something’s, well, off about himself but it would be Brett who kisses him one day when they’re hanging out or at, uhm, football camp? If that’s a thing, I’m neither American nor a sports person. So anyway, they start out as best friends much like Brittana did but there’s less open affection because it’s not socially acceptable, so Santiago freaks the f out when Brett acts on the tension that’s been building up. He can’t rationalize it the same way Santana did. It’s not something football players would cheer on, it’s something they would viciously attack. And before I get too deep into the actual relationship, let’s just stay with Santiago for a moment because I think he’d be one of the guys using the word gay to describe things that are bad and as a general insult.

Santana made some homophobic comments for sure but it was never targeted or specific with her, just her general cruelty manifesting. Much like I think Santana does, Santiago would also feel very angry because of the feelings he has to repress and because he knows the world wouldn’t accept him and I think he also externalizes it and lashes out at others. If anything, whatever happens with Brett he’d be that much more anxious and terrified and I think he’d use homophobia as deflection so he’d actively participate in that kind of bullying as well. Basically what I’m saying is that Santiago is much like Karofsky because I still firmly believe that Dave was the male Santana so, you know, makes sense that the male Santana would essentially be Dave. The “homophobic bully is actually just gay” trope has Issues, sure, but in this case and in Karofsky’s case it can actually be traced back to their own internal fight and externalizing that through homophobia as a way of trying to prove something to the world and themselves.

The question is, where does Santiago go from there? Because we saw how his own terror almost drowned Dave and canon Santana is reluctant to vulnerability as is, and I think that’d be amplified with Santiago as a guy who’s taught not to express any real feelings that make him seem less manly. And it was hard enough for Santana to conquer that fear of what people will say - heck, she never actually came out; she was outed. So what, would Santiago also “need to be outed” to be able to exist as an openly queer person? Side note, don’t we just hate how Glee’s solution to both its deepy closeted queer people was to out them and get it over with, only to spend little to no time on the aftermath. Anyway. It depends on so many factors how Santiago’s coming out would go. Santana’s journey relied heavily on the fact that she was able to explore much of her sexuality with Brittany early on and sure, there was a fear there don’t get me wrong, particularly when feelings got involved, but it’s almost as if sex came first, then love. I’d hazard to say it could be the opposite with Santiago because intimacy wouldn’t be as encouraged but he can still quietly pine.

Brett Pierce

Here’s where we jump to Brett because, as much as I think Santiago would be so much like Karofsky in how he takes his own internalized homophobia out on others, the key difference is that Santiago has a Brett. Santiago has someone also on the football and also a popular guy who’s not like either of them. Much like Brittany, Brett would be comfortable with his sexuality and specifically bisexuality, once he has a word for it. It’s just the way he feels, the way he’s always felt and he’s never much been concerned with how others view him so being labelled gay or even some nasty words doesn’t affect him, or at least doesn’t terrify him to the extent it does Santiago. But I feel like I also once again have to note the different gender dynamcs.

Brett would not be able to express his sexuality as a bi guy in the same way Brittany did as a bi girl. I think they’re both limited by the homophobic world they live in but in different ways. With Brittany, the underlying assumption was that her attraction to women is temporary or not serious and she’d “stray for penis” (🙄 f u Glee and your biphobia). With Brett, I think he’d be limited in the sense that at the first sign of showing attraction to the same gender people would immediately label him as gay and he’d be stuck with that identity even if it doesn’t reflect reality. If, like Brittany, he had opposite sex midgames I think they’d be different dynamics and a sense of doubt about his attraction to them, as if he’s only using them as beards. Which wouldn’t be true, just as Brittany’s relationships with Artie and Sam were valid in their own right.

All that said, I don’t think this limitation and others’ judgement would faze Brett much. If he’s the same as Brittany just a guy version then he’s also comfortable in his skin and his much bigger insecurity is intelligence and how he’s dismissed and belittled in that way. Which is also an interesting comparison between genders, btw. But yes, as far as sexuality goes I think Brett would also sleep around a lot but more so for fun than the reputation it gives him. Santiago would, too, like I said, though I think he’d have a less, shall we say, active sexual life than Santana did because sexuality was Santana’s way of maintaining her status and that meant constant availability. Santiago would only need to sleep with a few girls, brag, have his on and off Cheerio and he’s already a legend among the Titans.

Brettiago and the rest of the story

Back to Brett but also going more into Brettiago, like I said I think he’d initiate things. He wouldn’t consider “what will the others say” and “what does this mean for us”, he’d just think Santiago looks super hot (cause he would lol) and go for it. And I think there’d be an initial rejection from Santiago and it’d be rough, emotionally, but they might have a secret thing going on eventually. Only, that’d make Santiago even more terrified and someone’s bound to catch on eventually so when it all explodes there’s still angst like there is for season 2 Brittana. Maybe they’re a casual hookup thing and Brett has a girlfriend like Brittany had Artie, and maybe Brett would like to talk about things like Brittany did in Sexy.

There are just so many variables. Like, do they even join Glee Club? Sue would either have to be the football coach instead or they follow Puck after Preggers for, uhm, some reason. I honestly think Santiago would need a better reason than “dancing is fun” because Santana’s spy reason was convenient but singing and dancing was also more socially acceptable for her than it would be for closeted football player Santiago. Finn got so much shit form the football team and very specifically gay insults so I don’t think Santiago would be able to tolerate that. Speaking of, in my mind Finn and Santiago have an ongoing rivalry. And what about people like Quinn, Rachel, Kurt and others? How would Brett and Santiago relate to them if everyone else stays the same gender? Smells like sequel bait to me.

But to close it out, for now, with answering your core question of how Brittana, or in this case Brettiago plays out: there are significant adjusments because a lot of early Brittana is inherently tied to them being hot cheerleader girls. Brettiago would face different challenges - not necessarily easier or harder, just different. They’re still best friends first, they still feel drawn to each other, Brett is still more casual about all things sex and Santiago still more terrified. A lot depends on how we view their coming out in this scenario but I’d like to think Brettiago would still reach (some of) the same milestones and conclusions as Brittana. After the secrets and shame and angst they’d still choose each other and find a better life after high school.

Oh and I realize now I never followed up on the “difference between Santiago and Dave is Brett” thing. Maybe Brett and his open heart would be the reason Santiago doesn’t end up as Karofsky. At least that’s my hopeful interpretation. Maybe, just maybe, Santiago could come out in his own time, unlike Santana and Dave.

[sylverstorms]

Donna x Elena ----From Winter to Spring

This is a commission written for the lovely @saltwatereulogies and I cannot thank you enough for all your support! I hope you enjoy the story :)

She doesn’t know how she escaped that nightmarish inferno. How she still draws breath. Why her body keeps running despite its condition and despite the fact that she has lost everything.

The village is gone. Everyone she knew is either dead or a monster. She watched her own father growl like a beast and cleave a woman in half, then soon after wail out her name and succumb to the flames swallowing up the building. There is nothing left. There is nothing left for her.

Why? Elena wonders. A trail of blood marks her path through the snow, towards the unknown. Why still fight?

It will be easier to surrender to the agonizing burns, to the open gashes and wood splinters stuck in her skin. It will be far, far simpler to stop pressuring her rattling lungs to provide oxygen and fall into the snow, instead. It looks… peaceful. Soft. Pure.

It will welcome her to a quiet death, she thinks, so she may join her friends and her father.

Her father. The man who had never reached his hand out to help her when she fell –either on the fields or when she tripped over hardships— yet had always been there in his own stubborn, strict way, telling her to pick herself up.

“I didn’t raise no quitter.”

Ah, is that why.

Perhaps part of her feels it owes it to him to try. She did miraculously survive the fiery wreckage she’d initially thought would be her grave. But… the odds just aren’t with her.

Elena is only human. She’s lost too much blood, been through too much punishment. Her vision is growing blurrier by the second, her legs more sluggish. When she steps on grass instead of snow, she believes her mind is now playing tricks on her, too.

Something smells sweet, like wildflowers.

That is the last thing Elena is aware of, before she drops to her knees and blacks out.

-

-

When she blinks her eyes open, she is… confused.

She never thought heaven nor hell would have a wooden ceiling. She wouldn’t have guessed pain follows one into the afterlife, either, yet there she is, prone and throbbing with every weak breath on a bed too comfortable to be her own.

Unless…

Unless she’s not dead. Unless, against all odds, she survived a second time only to suffer some more. Elena wants to cry. What cruel game is the universe playing with her? The luck she never had in life is suddenly gracing her in extreme bursts now that she doesn’twant it.

“She’s awakeeee!” an overly excited voice exclaims somewhere around the room. Elena is too dizzy to tell.

“Shh.” A second presence makes itself known, calming the first.

“Who…” Who are you, Elena tries to say, but the words never make it past her dry throat.

Heels tap against the floor, until a black-clad figure comes to peer down at her. Elena expected to see the face of her savior, yet all she sees is a ghost, its visage hidden behind a mourning veil. The image is jarring; it sends her heartbeat skyrocketing, which doesn’t help her condition.

Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord what… Elena wants to tell herself she’s dreaming. It isn’t real, none of this is real—

Until a doll jumps into the edge of her bed and says something she doesn’t hear over the sound of her hoarse scream.

The ghost flinches backwards as the world turns dark once more.

-

-

The second time she opens her eyes, hours or days later, the pain has subsided somewhat.

Elena can feel her body, at least. All the wounded parts are carefully wrapped in gauzes and all her burns are covered by a soothing salve. Her lungs no longer hiss when she inhales, so long as she does so slowly, evenly.

That, of course, is not so easy to do when she turns to her left and sees the ghost sitting there, an open book in her lap. The veil is still on, obscuring her features, but Elena takes note of her fingers as they cradle the spine of the tome, long and pale, manicured black.

Appearances aside, there is a certain calm about her that doesn’t feel threatening.

“I… I’m not hallucinating, am I?” she whispers, not trusting her voice to go any higher.

The mystery woman tenses as though her voice has startled her. “…No.” she eventually replies. Her voice is quiet, like the rest of her.

“Did… you save me…?” A single nod is all she gets in return. Her company doesn’t seem very comfortable speaking, but Elena has questions that she needs answered. “Where am I?”

“The Beneviento estate.”

Elena would gasp if she could. I made it that far? And this woman… is she really Donna Beneviento? Her father told her all she needed to know about the four Lords residing at the outskirts of the village. He had also told her to avoid them at all costs.

“Um. I’m Elena—” A cough cuts her off. The sudden motion causes every injury across her body to burn.

“…I know.”

She is too much pain, in that moment, to ask how Donna knows.

-

-

In the following days, Elena comes to accept a few things that would have normally made her question her sanity;

The doll is alive. Her name is Angie and she is Donna’s friend. Donna is the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, who, upon the former’s request, has given her permission for Elena to remain in the mansion. When she asked what would have happened had she denied, the doll only sing-songed that she doesn’t really want to know.

It still plagues her mind, probably because she has far too much time to think and this is the only thing she can focus on, lest she starts crying over and over again.

When Donna comes to change her bandages, it is a relief.

The woman sits at the edge of her bed, at the absolute maximum distance. Elena slowly brings her body to a semi-reclining position to assist. Angie hops on the bed and pulls the covers to the side… and that is when they arrive to a standstill. Donna doesn’t move, Elena doesn’t know what to do.

“Um. May I?” the veiled woman motions with her –admittedly very elegant— hands. It’s… endearing, how she approaches the subject of touching her.

Elena nods and tries to be a good patient for her. Tries being the key word. When she’s not fighting for her life, she is not nearly as brave in the face of pain. Her teeth are gritted as Donna’s cool hands unwrap the gauzes at her right arm, her eyes closed, breath held.

“…Am I hurting you?” Donna asks, quiet as ever.

“No.” Elena forces herself to exhale. “No, you’re… very gentle.”

Donna nods and continues with the same measured movements. Elena doesn’t want to look at her wounds, afraid of what she’ll find there, so she turns to the veiled visage of her companion. She wishes she could see her face. Wonders what she may look like, what flaw she’s trying to hide.

Until a bandage catches on a particularly bad burn and Elena cries out.

Her whole body jumps—

Donna’s hands fly to her shoulders, keeping her steady with surprising strength, yet she steps away the very next second as though she’s been scorched.

Elena bites her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. There you go, making her uncomfortable…

Angie takes over for a while, also quite precise. Elena peeks down to realize she isn’t in as terrible a condition as she may have imagined. Scars will be left, no doubt, but she will probably heal well enough.

Then the last difficult spot comes up. She knows it when Angie warns: “You need to stay still here.”

“No, no wait!” Elena pleads. “I—I can’t.” I can’t, I can’t deal with this again, not again—

But Donna sits back next to her and her mere presence calms her down. “You are very strong, Elena. This is the last one.” she says.

“Hold me down.” Elena requests.

Donna doesn’t seem to like the idea. Still, she slowly brings her hand back over the uninjured part of Elena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright.” she whispers.

“On three.” Angie says. “One… Two…”

She pulls the bandage on two and Elena would jump high enough to burst through the ceiling if it wasn’t for Donna. When the agony subsidies she realizes she’s sobbing helplessly, clutching at the dollmaker’s sleeves for dear life.

“Shh, I’m sorry, it’s over now. It’s over.” Donna’s slender fingers comb through her unruly hair.

The brunette closes her eyes and lets her head drop back down into her pillow, but she doesn’t let go of the dollmaker right away. She smells like the flowers outside her house,she thinks.

She feels like a safe space, steady, in a world that’s broken and tilted for Elena.

-

-

Gradually, Donna talks to her more. Gradually, Elena tests her body’s limits until she is strong enough to walk around the house on her own.

Angie is with her, most of the time, but she knows it’s less a security measure and more one for her safety. Her mental connection to Donna is something Elena cannot grasp nor understand, but she tries to.

The first time she manages to get to the living room, Elena stops and stares at the painting of Donna adorning the wall opposite her.

“…is that her?” she asks Angie.

“Of course!” the doll replies excitedly. “I am so proud of that one, the artist did a great job! Mistress Donna looks splendid, but it is me who steals the show!”

Elena can’t look away from the canvas. Why is she so familiar…? “Is that what she looks like?”

“Well, excluding a scar she wishes to hide. Kind of like my face. We match.” Angie answers, giving her version of a grin.

For the rest of the day, Elena sneaks glances at Donna, then the painting. It isn’t proper, she knows, but she’s curious. And… surely, no scar is enough to justify hiding that cute face from the world?

-

-

Weeks pass. Elena has healed well and she owes it all to Donna.

The two of them have grown closer in the time the former’s injuries have forced them together, close enough to have tea in the mornings and brief chats over common interests throughout the day.

When the weather grows a tad warmer, Elena asks the dollmaker to take a stroll with her outside. She sees the decorated graves, of course, but she knows better than to ask. She doesn’t want their time to be poisoned by grief. The scars of losing loved ones run deep, she knows this too well and they never really heal.

The two of them are basking in comfortable silence for a while, until a thought that feels impossible not to be voiced strikes Elena.

“Donna.” she speaks.

“Hm?”

“When I first woke up and I told you my name… you said ‘I know’.”

“…yes.”

“I’m sure we’ve never met before…?” Elena stops and turns to face her companion. Donna mirrors her.

“How certain are you?” she asks. Upon Elena’s obvious confusion, she elaborates; “As a child, I used to visit the village with my father. In one of those visits, some of the kids made fun of my scar. A boy, especially, was saying some very mean things.”

Elena starts to recall one such incident in the blurry images of her childhood.

“You stopped him.” Donna says. Pauses. “…with a punch to the face.”

Elena raises a hand to her mouth, but a quick laugh escapes her anyway. “I did?” A nod. “No way.”

“You did.”

“It couldn’t have been a strong one, though.” Elena giggles.

“I don’t know. Rumor has it he still hasn’t gotten up, to this day…” The little exhale of a chuckle that escapes Donna makes something in Elena bloom and flutter.

She wants nothing more in that moment than to lift the damned veil and see the face of the gentlest, kindest woman she’s ever met.

-

-

The winter eventually gives way to spring. The earth heals from the wounds of the cold like Elena has, under Donna’s care.

She no longer has doubts about what she feels, what she wants. It is only a matter of overcoming her fears and nervousness. Only a matter of finding the right timing and the appropriate setting.

Elena has rehearsed the words she needs to say many times in her dreams and thoughts, yet she finds herself tongue-tied and completely lost on what to do in reality. She has asked Donna to walk with her, taken her to where the waterfall calms into a river… and now struggles to summon her voice.

“What is it, Elena?” Donna, ever the sweetheart, asks. “You know you can tell me anything… right?”

“What if…” she hesitantly begins. “What if I can’t tell you? …can I show you, instead?”

“Of course.”

Elena takes a deep breath and chastises herself to woman up. One little step brings her into Donna’s personal space. Her hand raises to the edge of the veil, blue eyes searching for a sign she should stop. The dollmaker is tense, but she hasn’t made a move to back away, nor lower Elena’s hand.

She trusts her.

And that’s all Elena needs to finally, finally remove the barrier separating them for months. The cute girl she defended as a child is a beautiful woman now, looking back at her with gentle, dark eyes. The jagged scar running down the right side of her face does nothing to retract from that beauty.

“You don’t need that.” she breathes. “You never did.”

Donna glances to the side, a hint of color spreading over her pale cheeks. Elena chases her chin with her fingers, then slowly inches closer, making sure the dollmaker has ample time to decide if she wants this, too.

When their lips meet, color blooms behind her shut eyelids, within her chest. Donna’s mouth is as soft and sweet as her personality, Elena discovers. It is a short, chaste kiss but it is also a promise for many more to come.

It is the gratitude Elena will eternally hold for Donna, who found her at the ending of her life and nursed her back to this,

A new beginning.

[bimswritings]

Savage Opress x Reader

Request: Open

Warnings:Yandere Themes, canon-typical violence

Summary: On their conquest of the universe, Savage finds himself drawn to one of the newest captives in their spread of power.

A/n: The next chapter of ‘This is our way’ is up on my Ao3. It will be posted here after I finish and upload my current Armorer x reader fic.

__________________________________________________

Your planet wasn’t anything special. Located out in the outer rim, it was little more than a moon compared to its neighbors. Its land was barren and cold, an almost ever present frost covering the ground.

Yet you and your people had made it your home, learning how to grow a small amount of crops and mine the rare metals underneath. A job you had yourself, providing enough money for you and your younger brother to live on until he was old enough to work as well. What was produced was enough to give your people an economy, yet remain under the radar and out of the war that ravaged the rest of the planet. The Republic and Separatist had limited interactions this far out at best, and you were able to enjoy a peaceful life, if not a bit exhausting.

Unfortunately, it was this isolation that had been your saving grace for so long that also proved your downfall.

Their ships arrived in numbers you had never seen before, landing on the grey dirt and unloading copious amounts of armored men and women. Your village didn’t even have time to put up a fight, overpower and subdued before you could even think of a weapon to protect yourself.

Soon you were corralled into the town center, separated into groups seemingly at random. Families were torn apart, mother from child and husband from wife. The entire time your brother clung to your leg, hiding as the armed guards shoved you along through the crowds. You tried to stay out of sight the best you could in an attempt to draw the least amount of attention to yourself, hoping, praying, that you could go unnoticed enough to keep him with you.

Above it all, standing out against the dull sky with their vibrant colors, were two Zabraks. Creatures you had only ever heard about in stories from the occasional trader that passed through, and had been just that, stories, until now. Their horns alone were enough to send shivers down your spine, each one protruding from the crown of theirs heads like a twisted version of a crown. Unlike a crown, you knew they weren’t for decoration. The damage they could undoubtedly do if provoked only solidified their threatening presence.

Now they stood above you all, tattoos illuminated in the light of the setting sun. The shorter red one stood in front, chin raised and chest puffed with pride as he looked over your people with another armored man, this one clearly human. He seemed to not even notice the cold, bare chest on full display for anyone to see the unique markings that marred his skin. Just beyond him stood the second Zabrak. His yellow markings stood out even more than his companions, only emphasized by his large size. None of the others even came close to his height, let alone the bulk you could tell he possessed under his armor. Even from here you could tell he could wrap a single hand around your neck and snap it easily with his strong fingers.

His gaze was just as impassionate, if not more so, seeming more bored than anything as he watched the proceedings.

“Come on! Move it!” One of the guards yelled, catching your shoulder as he pushed you forward, reminding you bitterly of Telik being led to slaughter. You kept Jay close, keeping your head down as you passed more guards, pace increasing. Just a few more yards and you would be with the others. Whatever the future had in store for you, at least you would still have each other.

“Hey, you!” A voice called, clearly directed your way, though you pretended not to hear. A cold sweat broke out across your skin as footsteps closed in, hand reaching out and stopping you in your tracks.

“Children don’t go in this area.” He growled, prying Jay from where he hid, ignoring his cries and your screams as he was pulled away. A guard stepped forward to hold you back, another coming to his aide as you fought to get to your brother, who was making it just as difficult for his own captor to drag him away. Even with the muscle gained from the mines you struggled against them, putting up your own desperate fight.

“Stop moving you little- fuck!” He yelped, pulling his arm away and out of Jay’s mouth, which had latched on to the only unarmored part of the hand holding him.

Immediately he turned and was running back towards you, tears streaming down his face and blue eyes wide with fear. In his panic to get back, his childish coordination caught up to him and his feet caught on one another, throwing him to the ground as he was left to scramble. All the while the guard he had bitten approached. 

“You little brat!” He snarled. His hand moved to his hip, producing a whip from its depths. The long weapon crackled to life, sparking with energy as it extended to full length.

Your own stomach dropped in fear as you watched. 

Jay, the one light in your life, the only person you had left, was in danger. You were his older sister. You were supposed to protect him, guide him into adulthood in place of your parents. Be there to kiss away every injury, wipe away the tears after every nightmare.

A new burst of energy flooded your system, giving you the strength needed to push past the guards, leaving them stumbling as you flew towards Jay.

The man brought his arm down, whip swinging in a wide arc aimed at the defenseless boy on the ground. 

It didn’t even have the chance to hit him. You slid the last few feet on the rough terrain, body covering his at the last second and jolting as the electric weapon met your clothed back, ripping through the material like a stone through water. A pained scream tore itself from your lips. Not even when you had gotten a burn from a small explosion in the mines had it hurt this much. In fact, you would take a dozen burns before this. This was just pure agony, the pain not even limited to a single area as the electricity coursed through every part of your body, invading every nerve.

The man was far from done though, and he repeated the action again and again, turning your skin into a bloody mess as Jay continued to cry underneath you, struggling in your protective grip. Still you held tightly, biting your lip to muffle your cries with every lash.

No one lifts a finger to help, not even looking in your direction in fear of the same treatment as they continue to shuffle along. You don’t even have it in your heart to blame them, knowing your reaction would be much the same if the situation was reversed.

Unbeknownst to you, your little altercation has caught the eye of the golden Zabrak, a small twinge in his heart at the deja-vu feeling he gets from the scene. From your age, he can only assume that the boy is your brother. You look too young for him to be your son.

He has flashbacks to his own brother, giving himself to the cursed Nightsisters in exchange for his life, only to be forced to kill him in a cruel show of power.

Before he realizes it, his hand has fallen to his lightsaber, already taking a step to where you are. He only gets a step before Maul calls to him, pulling him away to the ships and leaving him to look back over his shoulder at you crumpled form.

“Come. We must set up camp. The prisoners will be dealt with later.” Maul chuckles. “Those that survive anyways.”

And so he follows, leaving your fate to the Mandalorian who has yet to relent in his cruelty. But out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, and the memory of your form curled on the ground, taking every lash with little more than a jolt and muffled cry, sticks in the front of his mind and prevents him from having a single moment of rest.

It's hours before he’s able to slip away. Between his brother and Death Watch, it’s nearly impossible for him to make his way to where the captives are being held. They’re all gathered in one of the far corners of the camp, held in place by the ropes around the wrist and looking miserable as they huddle for warmth against the lightly falling snow. He feels no guilt for what their eventual fate will be. They’re nothing to him, mere insects in his brothers plans. Animals to the slaughter. All for the greater good.

The fear he can feel radiating off them feeds a twisted sense of pride within him. The Sith side of him. They know who he is. They know he could easily kill them with no consequence should he choose. 

He’s not here for them though.

A dozen yards away, your body is still laying in the same spot as before, more lifeless than when he last saw you. This time there’s no Mandalorian enforcer above you. Instead, he’s replaced with the small boy from earlier. What remains of your shirt is peeled back from the skin and even Savage, who’s used to many grisly sights, grimaces at your wound. The skin that isn’t lacerated is red and swollen, and he now notices that the young boy has shed his own shirt, using ripped strips to clean the blood away and form a crude version of bandages. He’s busy fumbling over himself, fingers clumsy and stiff from the cold as he does his best to care for the wound with no medical supplies.

So focused on your wounds, he doesn’t even hear the large Zabrak approaching, not until it’s far too late. To his credit, and Savage’s amusement, the boy refuses to leave you, placing his body in front of yours. His bare chest is rapidly moving up and down with fear, thin body on full display. Not an ounce of muscle on him, Savage muses, moving closer to your body. If he doesn’t get you proper medical attention soon the wounds will undoubtedly become infected and kill you, if the blood loss hasn’t already damned your fate.

When he goes to pick up your limp body however, he’s stopped by your brother. Well, stopped is being rather generous. It’s more like he’s latched himself onto Savage’s waist, small fist beating at him with the strength one would expect of a child. He might not have even known he was hitting him if he wasn’t watching it happen.

It’s times like this that he’s most grateful for his cursed strength, easily detaching the boy from him and holding him by the back of his neck, tucking him under one arm as the other reaches for you. It's almost concerning how cold your body is against his own skin, and he’s more careful as he lifts you over his shoulder. His brother would surely find it laughable if he saw how gentle he was being with you.

Without hesitance, he turns back to the main camp, ignoring the looks the others cast his way as he carries your unconscious and broken body over his shoulder, your brother still fighting under his other.

Let them gossip. There’s none that will stand against him.

____________________________________

The first thing you’re aware of is warmth. Surrounding and enveloping your form, begging you to stay as it threatens to drag you back into the land of dreams. That in itself is enough to alarm you. The heating was always turned off at night to save energy, replaced in favor of thick blankets made from the local TekTek wool.

That’s your second red flag. TekTek wool is warm, yet coarse and scratchy. The fabric currently piled on top of and under you is significantly softer, having a slight musk to it.

Finally managing to drag your eyes open, the sight that greets you is not one you were expecting. 

Dark fabric makes up the majority of the tent you find yourself in. It’s clearly worn, yet does a surprising job of keeping the wind outside from entering, slight ripples waving across the fabric yet never entering. A fire sits in the very center, smoke curling up and through a hole in the ceiling. It’s glow provides the only source of light in the space, illuminating the few objects scattered around, including the cot you currently find yourself residing on. Buried under layers of blankets, your hands travel to the bandages wrapped around your chest, the only thing covering your upper body and providing little warmth in comparison to the blankets you were previously under.

How did you get here? Where was Jay? The last thing you remember was the invaders arriving, then nothing. So the question was, how had you gotten from there to here? Alone in an unfamiliar tent.

Your questions are soon answered, a shuffling from the front of the tent drawing your attention. From between the flaps emerges a large figure, his horns nearly catching the fabric as he enters.

You both freeze, eyes locking on one another, equally surprised. There’s a moment of pause, each of you trying to determine your next move. It’s only broken when he takes a step forward, cautiously, but still sending you into a panic. Ignoring the nearly debilitating pain coming from your back, you scramble to the edge of the cot, pressing your back against the fabric and you can feel it straining against your weight. Trying your best to look intimidating, you send a glare his way.

“Where’s my brother?”

He says nothing for a moment, and you almost repeat yourself, cut off as he begins approaching. He’s there before you know it, long legs easily eating the space as his arms reach for you, forcably turning you around despite your resistance. He lets out a grumble as he inspects your back, scoffing about how you’ve ‘reopened them’.

The next thing you know, his hands are worming their way under the wrappings, loosening them as he goes to remove them.

The panic you had felt before was nothing compared to now, knowing where this scenario was going all to well. The stories of what you had heard from other village girls filling your mind, darkening your thoughts as you could only imagine what this monster was about to do to you.

“No! Stop!” You sobbed, knowing full well that there was nothing you could actually do against his strength. The bandages become looser, only held up by your hand as you wildly swing out with the other. All the while you try to distance yourself from him. 

“Please!”

To your surprise, he pauses. His first sign of even showing he heard you since entering. His gaze never leaves you, and you can see the debate going on within his eyes. About what, your guess was as good as any. All that you cared was that he had stopped for the moment, allowing you to cover yourself with one of the many blankets in an attempt to preserve any decency you had left.

Growling, her turns and storms out the way he came, a wisp of freezing wind invading the tent as you're given a glance at the dark night sky outside before you’re once again left on your own. Not for long though, and you think he’s returned once again when the flaps open, only to reveal a young woman in similar armor that you had seen earlier. Not the person you trusted the most right now, but you still preferred her over the large Zabrak from earlier.

She approaches slowly, setting a medkit down on the bed as she smiles your way. “I’m here to change your bandages.” She extends a hand your way, which you only look at, neglecting to come out of your little corner. 

“Please. You’ve opened your wounds again. If you don’t come out now, I’ll just wait for you to pass out and change them then.” she sounds a bit exhausted, and it takes a few more minutes of coaxing before you allow her access to your back, keeping your back towards her as she slowly unwraps the bindings. She deposits them into the fire, leaving you to watch them burn to ash as she retrieves a small container from the medkit. 

Inside is a blue gel, surprisingly warm as it touches your skin and leaves a pleasant numbness. You can almost feel her gaze burning into your skin as she applies the gel, eyes skittering across old scars, fingers even tracing them when visible underneath the new wounds. Seeming to sense your unease, she rushes through the rest, quickly wrapping new bindings around your torso, apologizing with every small grunt of pain you let out. 

Far too quick for your liking she’s done, packing up her things as she prepares to head out. If she’s leaving, then that means there’s more of a chance that he’ll come back. In fact, you have no doubt that she’ll go and tell him once she’s out of here.

Snapping the case closed, she turns back to you and hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know what you did to gain Savage’s attention, but believe me,” her green eyes lock onto yours, holding a sense of severity that chills you to the bone. 

“, he’s your best chance of surviving.”

With that you’re alone once again, left to your own thoughts and the crackling of the fire, which has gone down a significant amount since you first woke.

What did she mean by that? Gained his attention? And he was one of the ones who lead the attack on your home. Why would he be your saving grace? If anything, he would be the most likely to kill you.

Once again the flap opens, and you almost want to groan about the number of people going in and out, letting the heat out of the tent.

It’s the Zabarak. Savage, you remember the woman from before calling him. This time he has some additions. A cloak draped over one arm and a plate in hand. He moves slower than before, almost cautiously approaching you as he sets the items on the far end of the bed.

“Eat.” His voice is a deep baritone, rich yet monotone as he speaks, nodding towards the plate before moving towards the fire. Your eyes never leave his form as he tosses more wood onto the flame, moving them about without a fear of burning himself. Despite the fear still gripping your nerves, the food is tempting and only now do you realize how empty your stomach is, almost turning in on itself as it lets out a low rumble.

You grab the plate cautiously, picking at its contents as the man continues to poke at the fire. When you do finish, you find yourself wishing you had taken more time with it, no longer having the small distraction from your current situation. Despite the desire to throw on the warm looking cloak, you don’t. While he had directed you to eat, he had said nothing about the cloak. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, especially after he had shown how easily he could manhandle you earlier.

“You’re going to travel with me from now on.” He spoke, his back still towards you, yet it still carried loudly through the air, leaving no room for you to mistake his words. “If you have any objections, your fate will be the same as the rest of your village.”

You have no idea why he’s saying this, not when he could just direct you without any information. There’s only one thing on your mind though, present from the very beginning and still burning on your tongue.

“Where’s my brother.” You ask once again, praying to the maker you’ll get an answer this time. “What about him?”

His shoulders tense for a moment. The first emotion he’s shown besides anger.

“He will be allowed to come along given that he trains as a Mandalorian warrior. This is the best option for him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. While being forced to train with the ones who captured him wasn’t an ideal situation, you could only be thankful that he wasn’t fated for something more unfortunate. The only thing that worried you was his size. He was never much of a fighter, too kind to want to cause others pain. You would need to be there for him.

“I...I can still see him.”

“Yes.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should ask another question. He already seemed to be wearing thin with his patience, but you had to know. You would never get a moment's rest until you knew.

“Why am I here.”

He doesn’t answer right away, throwing a few more logs onto the fire before turning to face you. His face was nothing but shadows, eyes standing out in startling contrast. His footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way over to your form, unable to back away any further as you already find yourself in a corner. He grabs the cloak as he passes, the article almost ridiculously small in his hands.

As soon as he’s close enough, he lifts his arms and you flinch, expecting him to strike you out of annoyance and anger. It never comes though. The only feeling was that of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders, only there a moment before it’s clasped and you feel yourself being pulled forward. 

Savage’s hands are wound tightly into the fabric, forcing your face to nearly touch his. This close you can see every detail of the markings splashed across his skin, the black only making his amber eyes burn even brighter, nearly suffocating with the intensity with which they stare. Almost like molten gold themselves.

His breath fans across your skin, lips nearly brushing yours as his forehead grazes your own, making you whimper as his horns roughly scrap the skin.

“You’re mine now. You will never leave my side, there at my every beck and call no matter what I may need. If you even think about trying to leave or betray me,” he pushed further, forcing you to lean back onto the bed. His weight pushed down enough to keep you in place without being crushing, one hand releasing the fabric of the collar to travel up your face. It brushes the hair away, catching the tear you hadn’t even realized had escaped.

“I’ll force you to watch as I kill your brother in the most painful way imaginable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans forward, baritone voice speaking lowly in your ear as his lips tickle the skin.

“You’ll wish, beg, that I had killed you as well instead of what will happen to you after.”

[no--envies]

I've seen people suggest LXC is as guilty as everyone else for WWX's downfall and the murder of the Wen remnants, either because he knew they were just a bunch of weak and old people and didn't care, or because he was too naive and he should have gone to the Burial Mounds to investigate for himself.

With this post I aim to analyse the events leading to WWX's downfall from the point of view of characters who acted in good faith without having all the necessary information. I'm bringing LXC as an example because he's one of the less culpable in the whole matter, but similar considerations could be made about several other characters.

First of all, as far as we know LXC didn't personally take part in the first siege of the Burial Mounds, since the novel states that the Lan Sect was led by LQR.

Back then, during the first siege of Burial Mound, Jin GuangShan led the LanlingJin Sect, while Jiang Cheng led the YunmengJiang Sect; Lan QiRen led the GusuLan Sect, while Nie MingJue led the QingheNie Sect. The former two were the main forces, the latter two could’ve gone without.

(Chapter 68)

The other three main sects were led by their respective leaders, so why was the Lan Sect the only one that was led by someone else? My own interpretation is that LXC wanted to stay with his brother while he was recovering from his injuries and he didn't want to be an active participant in the siege that would kill his brother's beloved, despite personally disapproving of WWX's actions. One could argue that letting LQR lead the Lan Sect in the siege still meant giving his tacit approval, which is not wrong, but what should be considered is that the cultivation world didn't plan a siege against WWX because he had taken a bunch of prisoners of war and sheltered them in the Burial Mounds, but because he had killed hundreds of cultivators at Qiongqi Path and a lot more at Nightless City.

Before WN lost control and killed thirty people at Koi Tower - the time he and WQ had gone to turn themselves in - the situation wasn't so dire for WWX yet. The Wen siblings' sentence was still being discussed by the sects. WN mentions that LWJ spoke up for him and his sister back then (chapter 89), which suggests the Lan Sect as a whole hadn't taken an antagonistic stance against WWX yet. LWJ probably tried to bring what he had seen of the Wen remnants and their peaceful settlement as proof that they hadn't done anything to deserve being sentenced to death.

Unfortunately, after that WN lost control of himself and attacked the cultivators who were present at the discussion, which gave even the Lan and Nie Sects a reason to hold a grudge against WWX, since some of the victims were from their Sects as well.

“The Ghost General really is fierce… Said he was there to give himself in, but then he suddenly flipped out. He slaughtered again, this time in Koi Tower.”

[...]

“Wei Ying, though, he shouldn’t have made him if he can’t control it. Created a mad dog and he didn’t leash it. Sooner or later, he’s gonna be faced with a qi deviation. With the way things have been, I doubt the day is that far away.”

[...]

“How unfortunate for the LanlingJin Sect.”

“Things were even worse for the GusuLan Sect! Over half of the thirty-or-so people were from their sect. They were clearly only there to help calm things down.”

(Chapter 77)

A few of the QingheNie Sect’s disciples died in the hands of Wen Ning as well. Nie MingJue spoke coldly, “What arrogance.”

(Chapter 78)

The text explicitly states that the cultivators from the Lan Sect who were present at Koi Tower were only there to "help calm things down", which means they weren't trying to accuse WWX and the Wen remnants. At the time, the Lan Sect's general stance about WWX appeared to be mostly neutral (the same could be said of the Nie Sect). LWJ's own attitude toward the Burial Mounds settlement could be considered mostly neutral as well, at least until WN and WQ (and then WWX) really needed his help.

An argument I’ve seen brought up often is that, if everyone had known the Wen remnants were just farming and living as ordinary peasants, a lot more people would have chosen to help them. However, the main issue wasn't how they were living in the Burial Mounds (which nobody knew except JC, LWJ and maybe LXC), but their role in the war. Not only were they all cultivators from the Wen Clan, despite being very weak, but WQ was favored by WRH, which made her involvement in her sect's crimes even more likely despite her good reputation. Nobody had heard of her killing anyone, but how could they be sure? Besides, the Lan Sect didn't owe any debt of gratitude to the Wen siblings. The Wen Sect had burned the Cloud Recesses and killed LXC and LWJ's father. NMJ held a personal grudge against the Wen Sect because WRH had killed his father, plus his own black-and-white morality made him judge WQ for not opposing WRH in any way. LXC and NMJ had no reason to go out of their way to help WWX and the Wen remnants, but before the bloodbath of Nightless City they didn't do anything to harm them, either.

We also have to take into consideration the world MDZS is set in; that is, a fantasy version of ancient China where revenge is absolutely justified and is considered an act of justice. Even wiping out entire Sects in revenge isn't necessarily condemned, since JGY did that for the alleged murder of his son and nobody criticized him for it until they learned of all the crimes he had commited and realized those people had most likely been framed by him. Xue Yang was obviously despised by everyone for what he did to the Chang Clan because his revenge was considered exceedingly disproportionate to Chang Cian's offense. Xiao Xingchen illustrates society's point of view on the matter very well when he says cutting Chang Cian's finger or even his entire arm would have been entirely reasonable.

So, as long as it was deemed proportionate to the offense, revenge was justified. Putting all the Wen survivors who had taken part in the war into a labor camp was considered a justified punishment in universe. The sects refused to admit the guards had actually abused the prisoners, suggesting that was going too far, but taking revenge against them by putting them in labor camps was totally accepted. Even WWX - who the novel portrays as morally correct most of the time - doesn’t condemn it. He himself used very cruel and ruthless methods to take revenge against his enemies during the Sunshot Campaign, so it would be kind of hypocritical if he opposed their punishment post-war. He does point out that people consider every Wen cultivator guilty by association just for being part of the Wen Clan, without really caring about the actual crimes they have committed, but he only rescues the cultivators from WN's branch, who he knows didn't take part in the atrocities committed by the Wen Sect.

Murdering the Wen remnants settled in the Burial Mounds was wrong even in universe because they were innocent. They hadn't killed anyone during the war and the Wen siblings' help was absolutely essential for WWX and JC when they were on the run. Without them the Jiang Sect wouldn't even exist anymore. This was a huge deal considering the importance of debts in universe and could have swayed public opinion in their favor. NMJ criticized WQ for not doing anything to actively oppose WRH during the war, but the thing is that she had. She had sheltered the Jiang Sect's heir and head disciple, the same people who contributed to the Sunshot Campaign as one of the main forces.

The problem is that no one knew about this except WWX and JC themselves. JC, who had the authority and credibility to defend what WWX had done in the prison camp, didn't show much conviction the one time he tried to speak up for him, so the other sects probably assumed he was just trying to excuse his right-hand man's inexcusable actions and that WWX had become too corrupted by his demonic cultivation and was too unpredictable and dangerous. When JC went to investigate what WWX was actually doing in the Burial Mounds, he came back saying WWX had defected from the Jiang Sect and was an enemy to the cultivation world (chapter 73), apparently confirming WWX had finally lost it because of all the resentful energies he used and was a potential threat to them all.

However, a really important thing to consider is that the cultivation world waited two years to besiege WWX. They didn't immediately charge to attack him or believe all the rumors about WWX. The sects definitely behaved like sheep, but they weren't that stupid. They knew most of the things that were said were probably exaggerated rumors, so they were just observing the situation and waiting to see what he would do. LXC, NMJ and the other cultivators who weren't in bad faith (those who weren't driven by their greed, ambition, resentment or jealousy) were all part of this general category. They had no reason to doubt JC's words, who was a fellow sect leader and WWX's close friend, and many of them had seen for themselves how threatening WWX had acted during the banquet at Koi Tower, when he said nobody could stop him if he wanted to kill someone, so they had no reason to believe WWX's reputation was being unfairly tarnished.

During the two years WWX spent in the Burial Mounds and nobody really knew what he was up to, a lot of rumors were spread about him. Some people thought he was trying to build an army of fierce corpses with their consciousness awakened like WN; others suggested he wanted to found his own sect of demonic cultivators and even took disciples, like the banners in Yiling seemed to indicate. They considered WWX a potential threat, but not enough to actually take action against him. The fact that LWJ waited months before going to check the situation in the Burial Mounds is very telling. He knew the cultivation world was at a standstill with WWX, so despite being worried for WWX he knew there wasn't any immediate danger for him. He might have been too busy with his own sect matters and going wherever the chaos was, but we've seen how LWJ behaves when he thinks WWX is in grave and immediate danger. The way he acted during the night of the bloodbath of Nightless City shows it very well: LWJ did his best to help as many people as he could, but WWX was his priority.

Of course, having only partial information doesn't excuse the sects for everything. They definitely had their faults regardless of how much they knew. They should have given WWX a chance to explain himself about the ambush at Qiongqi Path and the incident at Koi Tower instead of deciding to besiege him. They didn't even care if he was actually guilty or not of cursing Jin Zixun, or that he was the one who had been ambushed on the way to his nephew's full-month celebration. All that mattered to them was that he had lost control and killed hundreds of cultivators, including the Jin heir. They took this as proof of how dangerous and uncontrollable he was, which wasn't completely unfounded. He was dangerous when he wanted to be and he did lose control. Taking this information without all the context we as an audience are aware of - that he was only trying to repay a debt and didn't want to harm anyone, that Jin Zixun provoked him so much it was almost inevitable for him to lose control - doesn't look good at all.

Again, the sects did behave like sheep. The novel portrays WWX as the hero and his decision to rescue the Wen remnants as morally correct. Most of the cultivators who contributed to WWX's downfall were a bunch of hypocrites who couldn't see past their own self-righteousness. But characters like NMJ and LQR are portrayed as generally righteous people, so the fact that they took part in the siege proves not everyone was in bad faith. Nobody really knew why WWX had rescued the Wen remnants and his reasons for wanting to protect them, or why he had invented demonic cultivation in the first place. They just knew he did very questionable things like digging up graves during the war, that he acted arrogantly all the time and even started killing their own people. We as an audience know why he did all these things, but they didn't.

Also, after the bloodbath of Nightless City it was objectively hard to defend WWX's actions. He wasn't clear-headed at all that night and when he activated the Tiger Seal he was already in a half-unconscious state. His overall situation was too much for anyone to be able to stand it, but this doesn't mean what he did was right. The fact that he destroyed the Tiger Seal after returning to the Burial Mounds suggests not even he was proud of all the people he killed that night. WWX isn't infallible and makes mistakes because he's human like anyone else, despite being an overall heroic and selfless person. Even LWJ, who was the only one that still trusted WWX's heart and morals, couldn't really justify what he did at Nightless City. He only told LXC that no matter right or wrong, he was willing to face all the consequences with WWX anyway (chapter 99), because he understood his true nature and knew his outlook and values were the same as his own. But most people didn't know him as well as LWJ did. From the sects’ point of view, the bloodbath of Nightless City was the ultimate proof that WWX was the scourge of the cultivation world.

I'm not trying to say LXC is perfect or that he couldn't have done more, but we should take his own point of view into consideration when we judge his actions (or non-actions). LWJ didn't do much more than him during WWX's first life and what he did ultimately wasn't enough to save WWX (I don’t think it’s his fault, he was in an objectively difficult position), but the fandom doesn’t criticize him as much as they do with LXC, because after WWX came back LWJ's support for him was flawless. But LXC wasn't in love with WWX. He hadn't observed him since he was a teenager like LWJ had done because of his huge crush on him. We shouldn't underestimate the importance of debts in universe and how information in general can affect people's perceptions. Even LWJ stayed mostly still during WWX’s first life because he didn't have all the information and didn't know why WWX had left the bright broad road to start cultivating with resentful energies.

WWX is the protagonist, the hero of the story and the character whose point of view most of the novel is narrated from, so it's easy for the audience to empathize with him and understand his perspective. It's really interesting that even WWX has a good opinion of LXC and NMJ (and mostly respects LQR) despite their role in his downfall. It's not just because of his forgiving nature, since we see him criticize the hypocrisy of the sects a lot of times, but because he recognizes they were in good faith and they had their reasons for behaving like they did, despite the mistakes they might have made.

[stovetuna]

CW: character death and Tony lack of self esteem and self preservation. Ignore if not ur jam

(¬_¬) psssttt angst time. post-Endgame Steve accidentally ending up in 616 and meets that Steve and Tony. And after failing to wrestling ANY info about why this Steve is here, 616-Tony figures out other him is dead and this Steve is taking it badly and this has Tony trying to make MCU-Steve feel better by saying something like well that me probably deserved it??? All us Tonys do (This does not make MCU feel better. Nor does it make 616-Steve very happy)

ANON MY HEART! IT CANNOT TAKE THIS! (she says as she mulls over this prompt for DAYS and even snaps out of half-sleep to write a little bit of it)...

but like, imagine it. Somehow or other Steve ends up in 616!universe—a spell of Dr. Strange’s gone awry, maybe, or a clusterfuck while returning the time stone—and he’s ended up in 616!Tony’s workshop. It’s late, he’s confused and disoriented and grieving, and he’s already making for the ratty sofa (thinking fixing this is a problem for future steve) when he realizes there’s already someone stretched out on it.

not someone. someones. together. wrapped around each other like koalas on a branch. one of them is Tony—no amount of darkness can smother that blue light, or so Steve once thought—and his heart is breaking all over again, when the person wrapped around him, partially hidden behind Tony’s shoulder, raises his head, eyes alert, and Steve realizes it’s him. Himself. Steve Rogers, from another dimension. Universe. Tony would know which. 

Rogers snaps to attention and is standing and interrogating Steve and he manages to not wake Tony up the whole time. This Tony sleeps like a rock, or maybe that’s just because of Rogers, and Steve is spiraling over the fact that maybe that’s all it would have taken to make things right—better—in his own universe. He could have been brave, he could have been strong enough for both of them to walk up to Tony and ask him out, kiss him, something. Instead he lied, and hid, and ran. He’s still running. Meanwhile this taller, broader, stronger version of him chose happiness, because what else could life with Tony Stark be? 

Rogers is grilling him in the semi-darkness, asking questions Steve isn’t sure he’s allowed to answer (the rules of the time heist are still fresh in his mind), but the questioning stops when Steve starts crying and asks him how long they’ve been together. If it was enough to stop their fight, and everything that happened after.

Rogers tells him they were too late to stop the Civil War, but they pulled their heads out of their asses eventually. When Steve mentions Thanos, Rogers’ face flashes recognition but not the same level of grief Steve feels like a railroad spike lodged in his heart. Whatever else has happened in this universe, Thanos hasn’t, and this Steve and Tony are together. Steve can’t stop thinking this is all just a cruel nightmare disguised as a tear in the fabric of the universe. 

And then the lights come on at a dim 30%, revealing a Tony Stark who is whole and alive and very, very different from the man Steve knew. While Steve stands there poleaxed in crisis mode (Stark mentions “blue screening” which is a reference Steve does get and he hurts all the more deeply because of it), Rogers fills Stark in on what he knows about Steve, when he showed up, what they’ve talked about. When Rogers mentions Steve’s question about their relationship, something brightens in Stark’s blue eyes.

“Your universe’s Tony Stark is dead, isn’t he?”

Steve makes a sound that is something between a sob and a laugh. Of course Stark would figure it out with the least amount of information at hand. In response, Rogers grabs Stark’s hand. He’s gone deathly pale, as if the very thought of losing Tony is too terrible to imagine, and he shares a look with Stark that speaks volumes, because Stark looks just as grim. Something happened there, Steve thinks—one or the other of them died, or came close enough to put the fear of it in them for life. 

And then Stark opens his mouth and says “If your universe’s Tony Stark was anything like me, and categorically speaking he probably was, he probably deserved it.”

Steve’s gut plummets because Jesus Christ, does Tony Stark not have any sense of self-worth, in any universe?? Apparently he and Rogers are the same wavelength—shocker—because he rounds on Stark with “Tony, we’ve talked about this” while Stark waves him off with a scoff. 

“This isn’t low self-esteem talking, Steve—you know my track record when it comes to near death experiences. How many would you say have been the inevitable result of my own actions?” 

Rogers’s face flattens. His lips and eyes narrow. “Too many.”

“Right. So am I right, or am I right?” Stark asks Steve, but Steve’s tongue has cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Of course, Tony Stark was always able to talk enough for three people, even if two of them were, technically, the same person. “He probably went down thinking he was the only one who could fix whatever was broken, walked right into a coffin he made himself, literally if not figuratively.” 

Steve swallows. “Actually,” he says, thinking of the gauntlet fused to Tony’s armor, which had fused to his arm, “it was something like that.” 

Steve’s eyes laser in on their joined hands, tearing up when he sees Stark squeeze Rogers’s fingers. A small touch of reassurance, stabilizing and loving, to remind Rogers he was still here. Still breathing. Still alive. The look Rogers sends Stark is so warm, so full of things Steve doesn’t have the strength to name, it threatens to shove him deeper into an already devastating downward spiral. 

So of course Stark chooses that moment to look at Steve and be his usual smart self, because some things are truly universal, and Tony Stark’s intelligence and ability to read people is one of them. 

“You never told him?” 

Steve shakes his head. Rogers makes a small, hapless sound, like the thought of never telling Tony Stark his feelings, being with him, is too sad to consider. It is—Steve can honestly say it is, and of the two of them, Steve is the only one who has to live with the consequences of the choice he made (and made, over and over again) for the rest of his life.

Whatever nonverbal communication passes between the two men, Steve doesn’t see it. He’s too busy staring through blurry eyes at the floor of the workshop, wishing this nightmare would end so he could go back to his own universe and not have to be confronted with the life he wishes he could have had with a man who was now dead. 

He’s so wrapped up in his own misery, he doesn’t register movement until two socked feet stop in front of his shoes and he looks up to see Stark standing there, eyebrows knitted in concern and wonder and, worst of all, understanding. Like he’s been where Steve is, lost and bereft, irreparably heartbroken. Did this Tony lose his Steve? How? Rogers is standing right there. But Steve has seen Stark’s expression in his own mirrored reflection every morning for the past year, and while he was never on par with Tony Stark’s genius, he could read people too. Stark knows this kind of loss as deeply as Steve does now.

“We’ll get you home first thing,” Stark tells him, but it sounds like a line to quell Steve’s nerves, which it does, and a good thing too, because Stark is moving into Steve’s personal space as he says it, breathing his air and meeting his gaze straight on. “Nod if you understand?” 

Of course Stark would be considerate of Steve’s inability to speak when they’re this close. Steve nods. 

“Can I give you something, Steve? If I know myself—and I do, really, even if my judgement isn’t always perfectly sound—your Tony would have wanted to give it to you himself. But life wasn’t fair to either of you, I think. Not that it ever is, but, I’d like to correct the imbalance in some small way. Is that okay?”

Steve nods before he realizes he’s doing it, like his body knows what’s coming before his brain does and he’s helpless to resist. 

Logically, Steve knows this isn’t his Tony. Not because his Tony is dead—although that does play a major factor—but because this one is so unlike him. This Tony, Stark—he’s too tall, Steve’s mind supplies, too young, too broad; his hair is too dark and his eyes are too blue. 

But Steve Rogers would recognize Tony Stark anywhere, in any dimension. In any universe. And if it means getting to give Tony everything he was too scared to offer him in life, even for a second—let alone getting some of it back—then so much the better. 

Stark pulls him in for a kiss like it’s second nature to him. Muscle memory. But to Steve, it’s a shock to the system. Every hair on his body is standing on end. He gasps against Stark’s lips and suddenly fingers are buried in his hair, tugging him closer before he can stop and ask them if this is okay, if they know what this means to Steve, if he can actually have this. 

A sob sticks in his throat as he finally musters the wherewithal to kiss back. Stark takes it handily, licking a hot, wet line across Steve’s bottom lip before Steve slants left and kisses him hard and deep, wrapping his arms around the similar-yet-unfamiliar frame.   Kissing Stark, Steve realizes, makes him happy, in a profoundly genuine, comforting way he hasn’t felt in years, and the only way to express it is to wrap a hand around the back of Stark’s neck, just below the nape, and suck the moan right out of his mouth. Even if that happiness is soured by his implacable grief, he can shove that into the back of his mind long enough to luxuriate in the feeling of Stark’s tongue brushing against his soft palate, those hard, scarred workman’s hands sliding up under his shirt to splay soft across his lower back. He feels safe, and happy, and loved. 

And if he imagines his Tony in Stark’s place, no one has to know. And if they did, Steve doesn’t think either of them would judge him for it. His instinct is confirmed when Steve pulls away long enough—breathing hard, just like Stark, who looks for all the world like someone who just fell off a Tilt-a-Whirl ass-backwards—to look over Stark’s shoulder at Rogers, who’s staring hungrily at both of them like he doesn’t know whether to pounce or stay put. The tent in his sweatpants speaks for itself. 

Before Steve can piece two coherent thoughts together—like does he feel weird about an alternative universe version of himself being turned on by this? or does he need to stop kissing Stark before this gets out of hand? how is he supposed to get home? how is he supposed to live without this now that he’s had a taste of it?—Stark is pulling him back in for a kiss that tunes out all the noise and warms him through, tucked in the safe, quiet, happy circle of Stark’s arms.

Steve holds the man and the moment as close as he can, as long as he can, and he’s grateful, for the first time in his life after coming out of the ice, for the silence. 

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH19

People weren’t happy with how things went down with Alya in the original MDCSP, so I hope this version suffices. ;)

Previous     First      Next     AO3

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

Chapter 19: Miss Missing You

Alya chewed her nails, pivoting back and forth in her desk chair as Lila settled on her bed. Her thoughts raced too fast for Alya to make sense of them, and Lila’s grave expression did little to calm her nerves. When Alya told her about Adrien and Chloe, she insisted on meeting up. Maybe this way they could both talk to Ladybug, but something was off about Lila. Her jaw was a little too tense, and those green eyes swirled with an intensity Alya couldn’t place. What was going on?

“Is Ladybug on her way too? We have to let her know what they’re plotting,” Alya said, but when Lila remained quiet, she asked, “What?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Lila said. “This is going to be hard for me, but I trust you over anyone else.”

“What’s wrong?” Alya asked, and Lila shifted her weight, tucking a strand of long hair behind her ear.

“Well, Ladybug and I…we kind of had a falling out.” Lila lowered her gaze to her lap.

“What?”

“Remember when Chloe tried to impersonate her to make everyone hate me? Well, I told Ladybug about it, and that she shouldn’t trust Chloe anymore, but then last night she gave her back her Miraculous without consulting me.” Lila recounted. “I tried to talk to her and understand why she’d trust Chloe again after what she did to me, but Ladybug freaked out on me and told me not to question her judgment.”

“For real?” Alya gasped. “That’s not like her.”

“I know,” Lila said, “and after what you told me on the phone, I definitely think something weird is going on with her.”

“You don’t think Chloe is manipulating her, do you?” she asked.

Lila pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not Chloe. I think that…well, I’m sorry, but I think Marinette is behind all of this.”

“Marinette?” Alya shot a glance at the Ladyblog pulled up on her computer, a sinking feeling in her gut.

She hadn’t posted about Queen Bee’s return—couldn’t bring herself to. Something was definitely off with Ladybug, but was it really all Marinette’s doing? Marinette wasn’t one for petty revenge, but maybe she had changed since she left. Or maybe Alya just never knew her like she thought she did.

Alya thought back to the night she was akumatized, the distant look in her bff’s eyes. She’d seemed tired, like all the fight had been drained from her. She didn’t even argue when Alya suggested they stop being friends, a fact that had haunted Alya ever since. Why had Marinette abandoned her so easily? Surely if her stories were to be believed, she would have fought harder, right? Wasn’t the truth worth fighting for?

“You said so yourself, Chloe and Adrien said they were going to get Ladybug to talk about me for Marinette. I think she’s manipulating all of them to get back at me because she can’t let go even after she’s been gone for a month now,” Lila said.

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Marinette do that? When I last spoke to her, she didn’t want anything to do with you or anyone here really,” Alya said. “Well, except Adrien, I guess, but she’s always been head-over-heels for him.”

“She’s obsessed! She’s never liked me, and I never understood why. The only thing I’ve been able to figure out is that she didn’t like me talking to Adrien, so now she’s lured him over to her side and fed him all kinds of lies about me. I don’t even like him that way, but she’s just so insecure and jealous that she thought Adrien would fall in love with me because of all of my accomplishments.” Lila hugged a pillow to her chest. “Now she’s taken one of my best friends away from me too!”

Alya crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed, draping an arm over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, girl. Maybe we can talk to Ladybug and convince her not to do that interview tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we can,” Lila whimpered. “She hasn’t responded to any of my calls ever since the Queen Bee thing. She’s on their side now.”

“Are you sure? I’ve met Ladybug a bunch of times, and she would totally pick up on it if something fishy was going on,” Alya said.

“Watch the interview tomorrow. If Ladybug says anything about me that sounds like them, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” Lila said.

Alya pursed her lips but didn’t argue. Lila’s story was just as probable as theirs at this point, and she was right. All they could do was watch the interview and see what happened. For their sake, she hoped that Chloe and Adrien’s plan failed, and Ladybug never mentioned Lila. But a heavy pit was already forming in Alya’s stomach, filling her with dread for the coming day. How had she gotten herself into the middle of all this drama? And how long would it be before the truth was finally revealed?

♪♫♪ Don’t Blame Me ♪♫♪

“How long before we give up?” Adrien asked the next afternoon. He leaned against the railing while Chloe manned the spotlight beside him.

“It’s hasn’t even been 20 minutes, Adrikins. I’ve sat up here for entire akuma battles before.” Chloe chided.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just nervous,” he said, letting a breath pass his lips.

Chloe spun on him with a scowl, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Oh no, you are not backing out this time. We’re doing this, so just think about Dupain-Cheng’s awful split-ends or whatever it is you need to keep you motivated.”

Adrien pursed his lips as Chloe turned back to her bee signal. She was right. No backing out this time. Lila was going down once and for all, then Marinette could finally be free. Marinette…

His heart fluttered, warming his cheeks. It would be obvious after today that he was helping Chloe take down Lila. Being intentionally cruel wasn’t in his nature, but he’d do anything to protect the people he loved. To protect the girl he loved.

It had taken him longer than it should have to realize his feelings for her, but now they burned so brightly, he had to wonder how he’d ever missed them. Marinette was a wonderful girl and a dear friend. If ever there was a person to fight for, it was her. She’d understand why he did all of this. It was all for her—always for her.

His heart ached with longing. Now that Marinette went to a different school, he couldn’t see her as often as he used to. Sometimes they went several days without seeing each other, and his heart grew heavier the longer they stayed apart. At least when he loved Ladybug, he got to see her every day when they fought akumas or patrolled the city, but even that wasn’t enough.

Adrien had spent too much of his life alone. Couldn’t the universe give him just one person to cure his loneliness? Missing Marinette was torture. What was she doing right now? Was she thinking about him?

He pulled out his phone and typed a simple message: what’s up?

Ugh, no, that was lame.

Hey cutie ;) what are you up to?

No, too forward.

I was just thinking about you

Too clingy. He backspaced over his message again, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Why was flirting so much harder as Adrien? If he were Chat Noir, he’d just drop a few cat puns and tell her how pretty she was, but that might be a little abrasive coming from Adrien. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off. After all, she almost kissed him in the garden too. That meant she loved him back, right?

Pressing his lips into a determined line, he typed another message and hit send without overthinking it.

Hey, how’s your day been?

A minute passed before his phone buzzed with a reply: busy. I’m finalizing my designs for Clara. I present to her next week and im super nervous!

Aww don’t be clara is gonna love them.

I hope so! she replied. So what are you up to today?

Uhh im working on a school project with chloe. He lied. We have to interview someone we look up to, and shes demanding we interview ladybug so weve been standing on the roof with her bee signal for like 30 minutes.

Wow ladybug huh? I hope she shows up for you guys. Anyway these designs aren’t going to finish themselves so ill talk to you later! Bye!

good luck!

He smiled down at her messages. Marinette was always running a million miles an hour working on some project or another. She was so driven and passionate—something Adrien deeply admired. Clara would love her designs, and he and Chloe would definitely take down Lila this time. Then he and Marinette could be together without having to worry about anything. They could move to the suburbs and buy a cozy home for their three kids, a dog, and a hamster named-

“Looking for me?” Adrien and Chloe spun around, and Ladybug cocked a hip. “What’s the emergency?”

“Uhh,” Adrien stammered.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “We have to interview one of our personal heroes for a school project, so we picked you. Isn’t that right, Adrikins?” She nudged him with her elbow.

Think about Marinette. Everything was for Marinette. The tears she’d spilled, the pain she’d suffered… Adrien was going to take it all away. Lila would never hurt her again.

“Yeah. Do you have time?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug glanced between them and smiled. “I have a few minutes. Make it quick.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped her hands together and paced toward the stairs. “Everything is set up in my suite.”

Adrien took a deep breath as Ladybug fell into step beside him. A month ago being so close to her would have sent his heart into overdrive, but now his heart was pounding for a different reason. Ladybug hated liars. Deceiving her was a direct betrayal of her trust. Even if his feelings for her had changed, he was still her partner, and manipulating her like this didn’t feel right.

“Wait.” He stopped abruptly and caught Ladybug’s wrist. Chloe was already through the doorway to the stairs, and he sent her a silent apology just in case his next words ruined everything. “Chloe and I lied to you. This isn’t for a school project.”

“Then what’s all this about?” Ladybug asked.

“It’s…” Adrien took a deep breath and continued. “You remember Lila, right? She lied about you saving her and how you two are bffs?”

Ladybug sobered. “Yeah?”

“Well, her lies have gotten out of hand, and she hurt someone important to me. Chloe and I planned to trick you into admitting you two were never friends, so that everyone can finally see the truth about her. The interview was just a coverup,” Adrien explained, hanging his head low. “We shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry.”

Ladybug eyed him with pursed lips, those blue eyes working out a solution like he were one of her lucky charms. She seemed to come to a conclusion, her face softening. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“If you don’t want to help us, I won’t blame you. I know it’s wrong to seek revenge,” Adrien said.

A knowing smile spread across her lips. “That friend of yours must be really special to you.”

“What?”

“For you to resort to something like this, you must care about your friend—the one Lila hurt—a lot,” she said, then with a sigh added, “I don’t normally condone revenge, but I know how dangerous Lila can be. I’ve almost lost my Miraculous because of her several times, so I think you’re right. It’s time everyone learned the truth about Lila Rossi.”

Adrien blinked. “So, wait… You’re going to help us?”

“I made a promise to keep Paris safe, and if we continue to let Lila go unchecked, she’s only going to put more people in danger,” Ladybug said. “It’s time someone put her in her place.”

“Hurry up, you two! I have a hair appointment this evening, and I do not want to be late!” Chloe shouted from the doorway.

Adrien held Ladybug’s gaze, and she gave him an encouraging nod. “Uh, coming!” he called.

He gestured Ladybug ahead, following close behind her, cheeks hot. This was really happening. Ladybug was going to help them stop Lila. After today, everyone would know the truth, and Marinette would be free. They all would.

“Ladybug, you sit on this side.” Chloe directed. “Adrikins and I will sit on this side.”

“Okay,” Ladybug said, sliding onto the couch smoothly.

Adrien took the seat across from her, wiping his palms on his jeans while Chloe barked orders at her butler. Satisfied with the camera angle, Chloe sat beside him and fixed her hair in her compact before calling “action.”

Chloe’s butler—Adrien couldn’t remember his name—started the Instagram live, broadcasting to all of Chloe’s followers. There was no turning back now.

“Hello out there, my little worker bees. Your queen is here with some very special guests today,” Chloe cooed in her token attention-seeking voice. “My favorite people in the whole world besides myself, obviously—Adrien and Ladybug!”

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Adrien waved.

“As you all know, I helped Ladybug defeat another akuma last weekend. Being Queen Bee again was such an honor, and I admit, even I have people I look up to,” she said, flipping her ponytail. “So, Ladybug, thank you for allowing me to become a superheroine. Queen Bee is truly an inspiration.”

“Uh, sure.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Chat Noir and I always appreciate help from our allies.”

“You heard it here, everyone! Ladybug values my help,” Chloe said, and Adrien cleared his throat. “Now, onto the topic of today’s livestream. People everywhere are inspired by superheroes like me and Ladybug, so today we are going to give you all the inside scoop on what it takes to be a hero.”

“That’s right, Chloe,” Adrien piped up. “I don’t have superpowers, so I have to ask: what’s it like being a superhero, Ladybug?”

“Well, everyone thinks that having superpowers is all fun and games, but in reality, Chat Noir and I have a huge responsibility. Defending Paris every day requires sacrifice, and we know the whole city is counting on us to succeed. It’s a lot of pressure,” Ladybug said.

“Of course, I know what it’s like being a superhero myself, but can you tell everyone how overwhelming it is to save the day all the time?” Chloe prompted.

“Yeah, totally. It’s a lot of work fighting akumas. Sometimes Hawkmoth makes supervillains at the worst times, and I have to drop everything to go save the city. Leading a double life is challenging, and sometimes it even impacts my day-to-day life. School, friends, family—I’m always rushing all over the place juggling two lives.” Ladybug admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I’m happy to do it. Paris is my home, and it’s an honor to defend it. Besides, when the going gets tough, I know I can count on my partners to have my back.”

“So, when you pick a new partner, what qualities do you look for in a person that makes them a good fit to work with you?” Adrien asked.

“I look for people with courage and good intentions. Often times, the people I pick are ones who have stepped up to do the right thing, even if it’s hard. They’re people I know I can trust,” Ladybug said.

“Would you say you consider your allies close personal friends?” Chloe beamed, flashing the camera a wink.

“Well, I don’t know all of them in real life like you, Chloe,” Ladybug said with a cautious glance at the camera. “Sometimes they are people I meet during a battle that impress me, and who prove themselves to be trustworthy.”

“And how do you know if you can trust someone?” Adrien asked. “Do you consult anyone for recommendations, or do you operate on the fly?”

“Most of the time when I give someone a Miraculous, it’s because they’ve demonstrated their character to me. Every person I give a Miraculous to has earned their right to wear it either by helping me or showing that they’re willing to sacrifice to save others. The decision about who gets to wear one and who doesn’t is deeply personal to me,” Ladybug answered. “Not even Chat Noir knows the identities of our allies. It’s something I don’t share with anyone.” She shot Chloe a stern look. “Under normal circumstances.”

“So, you pick the allies by yourself?” Adrien followed up.

“Yes. In the middle of a battle, I wouldn’t even have time to consult anyone if I wanted to.”

“In other words, if anyone were to—I don’t know—claim that they help you choose your partners, they’d be a liar, right?” Chloe added.

“Yeah, I don’t talk to anyone about who I pick.” Ladybug shook her head.

“Ya know, Ladybug, there are some people out there that claim to be your best friend. How do you feel about people lying about knowing you to make themselves more popular?” Chloe asked.

Ladybug locked eyes with Adrien, the weight of their mission heavy on both of their shoulders. She clasped her hands together in her lap and said, “As I’m sure both of you are aware, there will always be people who use your name for their own selfish gain, but I want everyone out there to know that I take my job very seriously. Protecting all of you is my number one priority.”

She took a deep breath. “Being a superhero is dangerous, and that’s why, with the exception of Chat Noir and my trusted allies, Ladybug doesn’t have friends.”

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?” Adrien asked.

“Yes, and they’re putting themselves in danger. Hawkmoth will stop at nothing to get my Miraculous, so please, if you’re out there… Do the right thing, and tell the truth.” Ladybug pleaded to the camera.

“It’s utterly pathetic when people lie about who they know just to get attention,” Chloe sighed in disgust. “You heard it here, my little bees! Chat Noir and I are Ladybug’s only friends.”

“Well, I’d consider you more of an ally than a frie-”

“And as one of Ladybug’s bffs, I want all of the losers out there to buzz off! Ladybug has much more important things to do, like spending time with me,” Chloe said.

“Right.” Ladybug’s yoyo beeped, and she glanced down at it briefly. “I should really get going. A hero’s work is never done.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Ladybug,” Adrien said, shaking her hand.

“No problem. It’s important to me that everyone in Paris knows I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust. We’ll all keep fighting hard to protect this city,” she said, waving two fingers. “Bug out!”

“Well, that does it for this livestream, little bees. Your queen will see you all again next time. Bye-bye!”

♪♫♪ Impossible Year ♪♫♪

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?”

“Yes.”

Lila was right. They really had gotten to Ladybug. Alya had done her best not to think about Marinette since their falling out. Remembering her old bff was too painful and confusing. Everything Alya thought she knew changed the moment Lila came to their school. The person she trusted became a stranger overnight. Alya wanted to believe that Marinette would never align herself with Chloe or orchestrate a hostile takedown just because she was jealous, but Alya had seen her do crazier things to win Adrien.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust.”

How was Chloe more trustworthy than Alya? All that was necessary for the triumph of evil was that good people do nothing. She’d known from day one that Chloe was evil, so why couldn’t Ladybug see it?  Why would Ladybug align herself with the queen of all evil over someone who dedicated herself to doing the right thing? Was this really all Marinette’s doing? And why?

Was Marinette really that desperate to win Adrien? Did she hate Lila so much that she’d willingly team up with her worst enemy to get back at her for stealing attention away from the boy she liked? From where Alya was sitting, it looked like Marinette already had him, and Lila had always been clear that she wasn’t interested in him that way. Why go through all that trouble to get Ladybug to denounce Lila just to win a boy? But if Marinette was involved with Ladybug…

It all made sense now. The reason Ladybug had picked someone else to wield her Miraculous. How long had they been plotting all of this? And how could Ladybug trust Marinette’s word over Alya’s without even trying to hear her side of the story? Or Lila’s? How could Ladybug not see that she was being manipulated? She was a hero, and one of the best Alya had ever seen. So why was she fighting for the wrong side?

Her head spun, and she gripped the side of her desk for support. Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth.

“You want to save Ladybug from those you deem evil. Let me help you, Ladyblogger.”

Alya jumped at the sinister voice in her head. She smoothed her thumb over her phone screen, now glowing with dark energy. A cold feeling washed over her, all of her pain and confusion bubbling to the surface. In the center of it all stood her determined resolve, driving her to give in.

Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth. Someone like her.

[lokislittlesigyn]

// loki spoilers

This is basically a huge infodump on my thoughts about the first episode, because I doubt y’all want to sift through my trauma-ridden ramblings. I’ll make another post for the rest. This is just everything not related to the IW stuff/my reaction to that. It’s general thoughts, theories, musings.

1. When Loki gets first taken into the TVA. Is that Peggy Carter in the background? Others have suggested it might be. What would that mean??? Will we see the TVA fix the mess the Russos made with Steve/Peggy (not likely) or is it just a lookalike? Who knows..

2. A skrull at the main intake desk! Idk not super relevant just interesting!

3. I’m kind of glad they changed the... uncomfortable scene... with the robot burning his clothes off. He gets more time to react to seeing the machine itself, and he seems more shocked (”Now.. H-hang on just a minute.”) than angry (”Now hang on just a minute!”) i still feel.. horrible for him, i’m glad nobody Saw him and that the machine didn’t grab the clothes off, but still. Ehhh.. uncomfortable.

He is beautiful though, don’t get me wrong - I’d just prefer a shirtless Loki scene where he wants to be shirtless? let him do what he wants with his body?? he’s probably felt so out of control of his body, from being jotun to falling through space that any invasion of privacy like that hits extra deep...

That being said, I recognize the utility of the scene for the narrative - his lack of control, his literally being stripped of what he was before.

4. WHO IS THE MAN WITH THE CAT. What is his name. I love that he has a mug with his cat on it. But I want to know more. Who is he?

4.1 WHY DIDNT YOU LET LOKI PET THE CAT Please,,, I am begging you,,, let loki pet the cat and have something react kindly to him and purr all happily at his scratching behind their ears plea s e

5. The info sheet. Now this is just a little nitpicky tidbit, but in a previous promo they listed Loki’s height as 6′4 ft and weight as 525 lbs. This is taken directly from the comics if I’m not mistaken. However, in the actual show he’s listed as  6′2 (Tom’s height and Loki’s presumed height) but I don’t remember if his weight is the same. Is Loki 6′2? 6′4? please let me know i want to know how smol i am in comparison

6. His little aggressive shaking of the ticket at the guard makes me giggle each time.

7. The fact the turnstile hits so low on him reminds me,, I am short compared to him. Those things hit my stomach/waist. That one hit his legs. I am once again asking Loki to pick me up.

8. The cartoon with Miss Minutes introducing the TVA is wonderful, I love the art style especially. But it raises questions about Variants... I guess Variants can just, pop out of nowhere? Any action could be the wrong one? And then once you commit the wrong action you either get returned or pruned? Yikes??? And THIS ties into another thing later!

9. The trial scene. I have a hunch - a feeling, a suspicion. That one of three things may be true.

A. The Time-Keepers never actually existed. They’re fabricated, and now whoever runs the TVA is actually using the excuse of “The Time-Keepers decree it so!!!” to carry out whatever They think is right. The fact we haven’t seen the Time-Keepers makes me.. suspicious...

B. The Time-Keepers existed, but they have since passed on, however that may have happened. Now someone is doing the same as above, using the excuse of the Time-Keepers apparent dictations to run things.

C. The Time-Keepers do exist, and do run the timeline/TVA, but maybe they’re not infallible? Maybe the TVA info video is lying or incomplete in some way? Idk I just feel like, something about the TVA and how they run things has to be wrong. It has to? Something is off. Again, this will tie into another thought later...

I have no idea if any of these are actually true! But Loki’s questions of “Who’s in charge here? What do they do? What do you do?” punctuated by laughter leads me to believe he’s suspecting something too, or perhaps just trying to figure this mess out.

10. Seiðr/Magic. We see in this scene, Loki’s magic (”powers”) don’t work in the TVA. (and a quick side note, did he have to Flex like that? do you have to make me see Loki’s bare arms Flex like that? be still my heart. anyway please get that collar off of him and let him rest for five minutes) This makes me wonder.. Why isn’t Loki in his Jotun form? His pale skin and blue eyes are decided by magic, are they not? I suppose this is 2012, so perhaps Odin’s magic is keeping Loki looking like that. But if magic doesn’t work in the TVA, why would his spell reach so far? Clearly Loki’s magic isn’t what’s doing it. How is Loki not appearing as a Jotun? Is his Jotun form repressed - is pale skin his default now, rather than something hidden by magic? I need answers!

11. he sounds so scared about being “reset” please dont hurt him,,

12. cALLING LOKI A PUSSYCAT? (lokitty confirmed) I think Mobius was goading him (Mobius strikes me.. As extremely clever. He’s trying to push Loki’s buttons to see who he’s dealing with. At least, I hope so. Because if he really meant that “You were born to cause pain and suffering and death... All so that others can achieve the best versions of themselves.” and that line about killing Frigga??? No no no he is not guilty. He had no way of knowing what would happen. It wasn’t right to send Algrim up to Asgard (i think algrim wouldve found the way up anyway) but there was no intent to hurt Frigga. I really hope you’re trying to goad him, Mobius, because if you believe that I trust you much less. anyway i digress) but wow is he pushing Loki’s buttons a lot. I can’t... Blame him entirely, I understand he’s trying to make sure Loki’s on his side, maybe I’m just too soft for Loki idk. But some of that was very cruel to say. /:

12.1 AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT MOBIUS. That scene with the girl in the church?? Did that little girl kill the men? Is that young Sylvie? Or is she using an illusion to make herself look young and innocent? What’s going on!!!!

13. LOKI SNATCHING THE LITTLE TIME-TWISTER DEVICE AND STOWING IT IN HIS POCKET.... POCKET....... sorry sometimes i get so caught up about loki that i just say random words in between little noises and squeals,,, i am a silly thing

14. CASEY. CASEY??? That whole exchange is funny. Poor Loki, just trying to intimidate this guy so he can escape but - Casey doesn’t know what a fish is. to be fair.... thor doesn’t seem to know what a raccoon is... right?

15. That bit with the infinity stones is kind of funny until you realize

A. Natasha died for a paperweight

B. Tony died from paperweights

C. Loki was tortured for paperweights

D. Oh, and Gamora died for a paperweight too. And Vision. Need I go on?

Then it becomes less of exclusively “haha funny” and now it’s a mix of funny and pain and gosh, is that a good way to sum up being a Marvel/Loki fan sometimes...

16. Loki gazing at the timeline all “Is this the most powerful thing in the universe?” or something, i’m sorry i don’t remember exactly... made me think of a meme and i shall make it presently.

17. I love that Loki got to see examples of how his family loves him but the fact he’s all “I can’t go back.” really just breaks me. It’s like he can finally see they love him after all of this mess, and now he doesn’t have the chance. Please, please let him be happy. Give him some relief. This is the Loki that just came off finding out about being Jotun, falling from the Bifrost, encountering Thanos, attacking Earth, facing defeat, and now he’s being thrashed around in this wild place and has just found out he inadvertently caused Frigga’s death (he did not kill her: his actions, by mistake, lead to her murder, let me be very clear) AND Odin will die AND all the rest... And he wants to be with them.

18. Loki’s reaction to Thor suggesting the hug makes me soft. Please I want to hug this little mischief man so so so bad-

19. Skipping over the iw parts! That’s for another post because this one will be grossly long anyway.

20. “I don’t enjoy hurting people.” and “It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear. A desperate play for control.” was all so, so validating. I’ve been trying to argue on Loki’s behalf for almost a solid decade. Seeing the show recognize that Loki’s not all just violence and hurting for “fun”, that he’s not unhinged and bloodthirsty.. Is so nice. It’s just so, so comforting. and it gives me hope for future episodes that they won’t go the route of “oh haha loki bullied and mistreated and stabbed thor for years!!! :)” loki cries during basically every fight with Thor and you want me to believe he stabs Thor for fun? absolutely not.

21. Theory.. Just another hunch.. So we know a fugitive variant, aka Loki, is running amok. Refer back to 8 and 9.C. What if the Time-Keepers never actually fixed the timeline into a single timeline? What if there are other timelines, and these different Loki variants have hopped over to the current one? Or, maybe the Time-Keepers did fix the timeline into a single one, and these Lokis are remnants from that huge time-war at the beginning? Time runs differently in relative spaces, they may have Just Left that war from their perspective!

I say Lokis and not Loki because we’re pretty sure there’s Female/Lady Loki, Old Man/King Loki, and possibly Young/Kid Loki. That’s at least three. From the peeks of Asgard and NYC we’ve seen from the trailers, I think we’re also getting an Asgardian King!Loki and Midgardian King/Vote!Loki. (unless our dearest variant is hopping into timelines and situating into them, but I doubt Mobius would let that happen..?) That’s five.

To further support this, keep in mind, I believe recently six (i think 6 regular and 6 rare...) different funko pops were announced for the series? I’m not sure if they’re in addition to the Loki and Mobius already released. If they are, there’s enough room for each Loki and maybe a TVA agent. One of the pops is supposed to have a buddy/companion I think? Maybe they’re making the cat guy into one, or maybe there’s something else (Throg, anyone?).

22. That is totally Lady Loki/Sylvie at the end by the way. Has to be. But why does she want the reset devices? Why did she snatch that TVA Hunter? Again, WHAT’S GOING ON

ANYWAY this was a very long post if you made it this far, I commend you.

[chipper9906]

Maybe

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 01 EPISODE 05: ‘JOURNEY INTO MYSTERY’ AND SEASON 01 EPISODE 04: ‘THE NEXUS EVENT’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 4,124 

Status: One Shot - Complete

Chapter Preview:

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life.

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman.

He understood now.

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Author Note: 

Oh Boy, here I go again, getting sucked into yet another ship. Basically, this is a dive into Loki's thoughts during the blanket scene in Episode 5 "Journey Into Mystery" because man, I sure do love getting into a character's head and breaking down their thought process.

P.S. No joke, I think I re-watched the blanket scene like... over 40 times I counted, roughly. Wanted to make sure I got every detail right lmao.

Oh wow, would you look at that - yet ANOTHER fic based on the blanket scene? I'm sure this hasn't been done by many different people ever since Episode 5 aired! Nah, I'm sure this is purely original stuff.

(Listen, this scene and - consequently - this fic got stuck in my head and I just had to write it down and... well here we are.

* * *

This was, as he had said, new for him.

It was… strange, to say the least. Not just because the woman who was sat next to him was, technically, on some sort of level, himself. And yet… not. Sylvie was her own person, that was for sure. And the only Loki, from who he’s met, who refuses to be called Loki. She had chosen her own name, and was currently choosing – or carving, was more accurate – her own path. A way out of the never-ending, self-sabotaging, “only use is for improving others” apparent destiny they’ve all found themselves in.

She had lived an entirely different life from him - and the use of the word ‘different’ here is strongly applied. It makes him a little uneasy when he dwells on it for too long if he’s being honest with himself. Yes, there may some similarities between them, as to be expected, but Sylvie had lived her own set of experiences different to his. Differences that had shaped her, made her see the world… universe… timeline? All of that, in a different way to him. Learning of the things she had gone through, what she’s trying to accomplish… it made his “glorious purpose” of ruling over “Mid-guard” seem like a spoiled boy's desperate attempt to feel important.

Everything with Sylvie and the TVA had shut down that ideal very quickly. Or, at least, has changed his view of his “Glorious Purpose”. The one change that he hadn’t seen coming, that Sylvie herself had told him; the very first words she had actually said to him:

“This isn’t about you.”

No, it wasn’t about him. Not just him, anyway. It was… it was all of him. Every version of himself out there, and every other variant of... Of everyone to have ever existed. Those, just like him, who are punished for stepping out of their pre-written timeline. Those that, when they try to change themselves, to be the person who those that loved him did everything in their power to guide them to be, were snatched away by the TVA and sent here to this pit of unwanted, broken things; left with nothing but unforgiving and dirty survival, only to lead to their inevitable death. 

And it’s cold.

“Mobius isn’t so bad.”

Sylvie breaks the comfortable lull of silence they had found themselves in. They were, technically, supposed to be ironing out the details of this plan to enchant a creature much, much larger than them, whose only desire is to eat everything that enters the world they’re currently in. Which is why, perhaps, they had taken the moment to just… breathe. A moment of rest, side by side. Whilst it was true that his plan of killing the gargantuan cloud thing was near suicidal, it would be fair to say that Sylvie’s plan was equally as dangerous. Then again, what did he expect? Seemed that every type of Loki out there isn’t the best at creating plans…

“Or so good,” Loki counters. It seemed almost cruel to say, but… it was also true, wasn’t it? Sure, Mobius had done the things he’d done because he thought they were the right things to do – but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d done them. How many variants, not only of him, but of so many other poor souls had been doomed to this place because of his work? Still, it wasn’t like Mobius had the full picture with everything. Mobius had been lied to just as much as he had. “I think that’s why we get along.”

A small smile pulls at Sylvie’s lips. She takes a deep breath in, staring out to the horizon where Alioth awaits prowling his territory. “He cares about you.”

That catches him off guard. He supposed that she and Mobius must have had some type of conversation in however long they’d spent driving to reach them. Apparently, the topic of conversation must have steered towards him at some point. And somehow, through that, Sylvie had deduced that Mobius… cared about him?

There’s a soft, knowing smile on Sylvie’s face as she catches sight of his reaction. It was probably the closest similarity they shared: friendships… didn’t quite seem to happen for them. 

But there’s something else there in Sylvie’s expression as she looks to him. Almost a twinge of… of sadness. It sends an aching sort of pain through his chest as he sees it, coming to a sudden realization in his head. He knew that, deep down, the reason for his own loneliness was all due to himself. He knows now that there were plenty in his life that loved him, that always treated him like family even when, genetically, he wasn’t. But he had been blinded by jealousy and hatred, hatred that they had kept the secret of his true nature quiet for so long. It was because of this; this stubbornness and this selfish, false ideal that he deserves more, that he had made himself alone. 

But Sylvie…? She had been well and truly alone. From such a young age, an age where his mother had barely begun teaching him the basics of magic, she had been snatched away from her life. Everything she ever knew and loved had been wiped away, the timeline dumped here just like everything else the TVA – or whoever the hell is actually in charge of the damn universe and its multiple timelines – decided was too much of a threat. Ever since then, from that very same day she had managed to escape their clutches, she had been running alone. All those years, fighting to survive, completely alone, existing in one apocalypse after the other. Even if she did try and interact with the people in those timelines, what would be the point? They were doomed to die, anyway… 

Her words echo in his head for a moment, her sad smile seemingly etched into his memory. A part of him, that strangely soft side he didn’t know existed that had been growing stronger and stronger these past few days, burst with the need to do something, to remove the pain she was feeling. For just a split second, he nearly gives into it. He nearly says the words that were forcing their way to the forefront of his brain. 

‘I care about you.’

But the words stay safely locked away in his head. Sylvie looks away from him, and the moment passes. He didn’t know if she had been expecting for him to say anything, and he certainly didn’t know what it is she might have thought he would say. His mind clambers for something, for anything to try and bring the moment back.

A strong gust of cool wind blows over them, sending chills across his pale skin - despite the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. He knew that, if he really wanted to warm himself up, he could shift into his true form. Except, he didn’t see it as his true form. He has been an Asgardian as long as he can remember, and for all intents and purpose, this is who he’s meant to be. He is the son of Odin, son of Frigga, brother to Thor, an Asgardian, and he’s proud of that. 

And that’s when the idea pops into his head.

“It’s cold,” Loki states the obvious to Sylvie with a shiver of his upper body, glancing over to try and catch her reaction out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he wonders if Sylvie has the same views on their true heritage as he does, considering that, in her timeline, she was told she was adopted much earlier than he was. 

She doesn’t mention anything about it, though. Instead, she simply agrees with his statement with a hum of “Mmm-Hmm,” but it’s exactly the kind of answer he’s looking for.

From the outside, it looks like an easy twirl of his fingers and a burst of lime-green light, but in reality, it’s years and years of practice, both by himself and… and with his mother. The weight of the blanket - though light - is comforting as it wraps around his shoulders; silky smooth to the touch and of a darker green than the light of his their magic. 

The burst of color gets Sylvie’s attention, looking over to Loki again to see the new blanket he had materialized out of seemingly thin air - which… he did. 

“I could conjure one for you, if you like?” Loki offers.

Sylvie smiles for just a split second, enough for Loki to believe that she might just say yes. But then her nose scrunches as she comes back to herself, and the belief is gone. “Tell you what, you could conjure me a new outfit,” Sylvie says off-handedly, pulling at the tight collar of her outfit. “You have no idea how uncomfortable something like this is.”

It’s a deflection. He knows that all too well, because… because it’s something he’d do. Not that he can blame her in the slightest. As he had said, just before he was pruned through the heart and sent here - this was entirely new for him. Sure, he had had his fair share of flings back home. Rare occasions when he would give in to temptations, let himself experience a slice of normality. But it was never real. He did not doubt that those that fell into his bed did not do so because they felt a connection, or saw a future. And neither did he. He was a prince, a God, and for most, saying you were able to seduce a prince was an achievement. And for him? Well, it was an easy means to an end, he supposed. 

But this? This felt real. It was strange, it was something he had never experience before, and quite frankly, it scared the ever-living God’s out of him. So sure, he knew how to flirt… somewhat. But with this, with Sylvie? Everything was different, and he had no clue whatsoever what he should do.

“So…” Sylvie breaks him out of his thoughts. “Mobius, and his theory about…”

Oh. Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting for the conversation to go there. Really, he had thought she might try and pretend to have never heard what Mobius had said. 

“Right, right. About our Nexus event-,”

“Total rubbish, right?”

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sting a little bit. “Absolutely,” ‘Liar’, a voice in his head hisses. “Of course, I mean-,”

“I don’t mean that it wasn’t a nice moment,” Sylvie hurries to say, and it lessens that sting just a little bit. 

“No, it was great! It was really nice.”

“It just… sounds like another TVA lie.”

Which... Yes, when he thinks about it, could you easily have been a lie. Not that he thinks that Mobius would lie to them about this, no, but that someone else within the TVA had fed Mobius the lie. For what reason, he's not entirely sure. To throw them off the scent perhaps? Keep them from figuring out what can really cause a Nexus Event so powerful that it could conceivably take the TVA down. 

Or, perhaps they just enjoyed lying. More than him even - and that's saying something. 

"A hundred percent. I mean totally, yeah."

And oh, what was this? Loki tries to meet her eye, expecting her to nod her head vehemently in agreement to his statement. But... She won't look at him. She gives a somewhat strained-looking smile, more like a grimace than anything, and if he looks hard enough - by which he means projects his own feelings onto Sylvie and hopes she feels the same - he could almost imagine there was a flicker of disappointment there, too. 

"I don't know how to do this," Sylvie says, an admission he didn't expect. She looks about as awkward as he feels, eyes fixated on her fingers as she plays with them. 

"I don't even know what we're doing," Loki returns, and dear oh dear did he genuinely mean that. One moment he thinks he should take that step, say something, anything. And then the very next moment it becomes the wrong time, the wrong thing to say, and he's back to square one. 

It was frustrating, to say the least.

"I don't have friends," Sylvie carries on, and it's another dagger through the heart. Yet another thing that was so similar, yet so, so different. He had been given so many opportunities for companionship, for friends, but he repeatedly threw them all away. But Sylvie? She wasn't even given the chance. She truly had-

"I don't have..." Sylvie trails off, a long gap where she struggles to find the right word to use. Her eyes had locked onto his, and he knew that nothing less than Alioth appearing right above their heads would get him to tear his eyes away.

"... Anyone." 

"Well, there are more important things, right?" Loki desperately grasps for something to wipe away the blank, dejected look that was etched onto her features. 

"Right? Yeah, like bringing down the TVA." 

For once, one of his plans was going well. "Saving the universe, even."

"Well, there's no need to be dramatic - but yeah, kind of!" 

Then there it was again - a particularly strong breeze pushing up to the little hill they were sat on. Sylvie gives a little shiver as it washes over them, a barely noticeable shuffle in an attempt to get warm, and Loki jumps at the opportunity. 

It only takes one small adjustment, a brief push of magic, and then the blanket is growing, wrapping itself around Sylvie's shoulders in a motion so smooth, you'd think he'd done something like this hundreds of times before. Loki smiles gently to her when she notices the change, and his smile only grows more as Sylvie pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, shuffling closer to him by just the smallest of movements. Yet another plan he could now say was a success. 

"It's not very snuggly."

Or, maybe not. "Okay," Loki manages to get out through a surprised laugh, but he does get some sort of gratification in seeing her smile at his response. 

"Is it a tablecloth?" 

"No, it's a blanket," Loki finds himself strangely defending his materialized choice of cloth. 

There’s a pause, the quickest of glances up to him. He sees a brief flash of pink as she pokes out the tip of her tongue between her lips, wetting them as she struggles to get out her next words. “Thank you.”

Loki gets a strange feeling she doesn’t get to say that all too often. Whether that be because she chooses not to, or because she’s never had the opportunity to. When was the last time someone did something nice for her…?

“My pleasure.”

Sure, this was all new, and all types of scary. But, as he sat here, shoulder to shoulder with Sylvie, looking out to the dreary yet oddly beautiful landscape scattered with remnants from pruned timelines, he can't help but feel that this moment right here? It was… nice. Despite the TVA, despite Alioth, despite the fear of imminent death he’s had to live through nearly every moment since the Tesseract flung him into that desert in Mongolia, he had managed to find himself some semblance of peace. 

And it was because of the person next to him.

“How do I know that, in the final moments, you won't betray me?”

Now, this was a conversation he had been expecting. How can he not? It seemed that nearly every single person he’s ever come across, who he hasn’t immediately tried to murder, wonders the exact same thing. The ‘inevitable’ betrayal every Loki seems incapable not to carry out. 

And he couldn’t blame them, just as he can’t blame Sylvie for wondering the same thing. Really, he had thought the whole reason she had wanted this moment to talk to him was to have this very conversation. It was… it was something he had thought about himself, ever since being dragged in by the TVA. It was Mobius that had shown him his consistent deceitful nature - quite literally, by showing him film of every moment in his life where his flair for dramatics and affiliation for backstabbing was apparently used for ‘the bettering of others’. 

It had become deeply ingrained into his nature. It became what he was known for, what his family knew him for. He supposed it gave him some sense of… satisfaction, perhaps? A false sense of security, that he always has the upper hand when need be. It was almost like a trial, opportunities to prove to himself that, when the time comes, he can do what it takes to claim what he, false-fully, felt he was owed. He was certain that the only path to being a rightful ruler was one filled with betrayal. 

And now, after only a few days with Mobius - and an even shorter amount of days with Sylvie, his previous ambition he’s been working towards for so long suddenly wasn’t as important. Things had changed. 

He had changed. 

And that was part of the reason the TVA wanted him dead. 

“Listen, Sylvie, I…” Loki starts, but then stops. He sighs deeply, wanting to find the best way to get this across to her. He needed her to understand. “I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother… my home.”

He at least had her full attention now. No more awkward glances at one another, unable to maintain more than a few seconds of eye contact. This was important, and they both knew it. “I know what I did. And I know why I did it. And that’s not who I am anymore. Okay?”

There’s nothing on her face that he can read, nothing that says whether she believes him or not. She had been expecting him to say this, he supposed. “I won't let you down,” Loki says, and he says it like a promise - one he fully intends to keep. 

“You sure?” Sylvie asks, and he nods his head straight away in response. “ ‘Cause if we make it, and the TVA is gone, there might be a timeline for you to rule.” Sylvie continues with a challenging - yet slightly teasing- narrowing of her eyes. 

“Ah,” Loki says wistfully, looking out to the horizon as if dreaming of such an event. “And then I’d finally be happy.”

Except, he wouldn’t. He only has to look at his older self to know that. The only one of himself that had beaten the one event that’s supposed to define their lives. He had tricked the mad titan himself, found himself a little corner of the universe to live out his life in peace. No more people he has to challenge, no more opportunities for betrayal - by him, or to him. 

And he looked… miserable. 

Now, though? Right here and now, he wasn’t miserable. He certainly wasn’t relaxed, that was for sure, but far from miserable. He had ended his little exclamation with a rare smile that wasn’t a smirk - or forced- and miraculously, Sylvie returned one just as wide as his; wide enough even for him to see the little laughter lines crinkling at the corner of her eyes.

“What about you?” Loki asks. “What will you do when this is all over?”

Sylvie takes a moment to think, tucking an unruly strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t know.”

He couldn’t even begin to try and put himself in her shoes. Sylvie had spent… hundreds, perhaps even a thousand years of her life just running. Surviving. Doing whatever it takes to make sure she wasn’t wiped off the board by some mystery figure, or group, that had deemed her too dangerous to the timeline. And for what? Some kind of sick desire to have control over every single living thing in every type of Universe to ever exist?

Which… which sounded an awful lot like himself, now he thought about it. Maybe whoever was in charge of the TVA was another variant of himself…

“I don’t know either,” Loki said, and that added to the tally of growing truths he was admitting to people - perhaps the most in his life. 

At some point, this all had to be over. Whether… whether it ends in his death once again, another defeat by a power-hungry being, or with their victory. No more TVA. No more pruning of variants. No more control. Sure, Sylvie had made that joke about him ruling a separate timeline, but… what would he do once this was all over, assuming her survives it? What did he want to do?

What does he want? 

‘Look at your eyes! You like her!’

‘What?’

‘You like her! Does she like you?’

‘Was she pruned-’

‘No wonder you have no clue what caused the Nexus Event on Lamentis; both of you are swooning over each other!’

‘Tell me the truth-’

‘It’s the apocalypse! Two Variants of the same being, especially you, forming this sick, twisted romantic relationship - that’s pure chaos! That could break reality, it’s breaking my reality right now! What an incredible, seismic narcissist - you fell for yourself!’

‘Her name was Sylvie’.

Mobius had truly tricked him there. At least now he knew how cruel it was to be on the other side of such a bluff, he supposed. He had always prided himself on his acting abilities, his innate way of lying to others. Yet, apparently, when it came to Sylvie… he puts his full emotions on display. He had become too overcome with emotions at the mere thought of Mobius telling the truth, that Sylvie was well and truly gone, and he had snapped. He was…

Yes… That was the word. 

He was heartbroken. 

‘You conniving, craven, pathetic worm. I hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be.’

‘Do you really think you deserve to be alone?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well then you better figure it out quick, because the Nexus Event the two of you caused, whatever that connection is, can bring this whole place down.’

Maybe, just maybe… Mobius was onto something there. Maybe Sif, even in that small, once insignificant memory buried in his mind, was wrong. 

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be alone.

Maybe he didn’t have to be. 

“Maybe…” The words get caught in his throat, spoken softer than he intended to. He involuntary finds himself leaning closer to Sylvie, to the warmth radiating from her, trapped within the blanket wrapped around them. “Maybe we could figure it out... together.”

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life. 

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman. 

He understood now. 

He almost misses the slightest of reactions as Sylvie looks up to him - and what he knows is an earnest, vulnerable glaze in his eyes. It’s the smallest of things, almost impossible to see, but there’s a slight pull to the corner of her lips as she looks to him. Almost as if she was fighting back a smile at his proposition. 

“Maybe,” She whispers back to him, just as quiet and tender as his own words. It’s not a yes, not in the way his frantically racing heart was hoping to hear, but it was a start. It was Sylvie’s own returning of a proposition, her own olive branch. The possibility he had given that she was extending right back to him. 

Maybe. 

Maybe.

Maybe.

Yes… Maybe they’d survive this. Maybe he and Sylvie would bring down the tyrant who oversees ‘the sacred timeline’. Maybe he’ll find Mobius again, alive and well, having turned the entirety of the TVA’s workforce against the organization they devoted their lives to, and burn it to the ground. 

Maybe Sylvie will let him stay by her side. 

Maybe, he’ll carve that new path in his life - with Sylvie’s intertwined with his.

Maybe he’ll find that new Glorious Purpose.

Maybe he won’t be alone. 

Maybe he’ll be happy. 

Maybe…

You know what? He was starting to like that word. 

[clock-work-crow]

Why Sylive did the right thing

So I'm going to say something that I feel like not enough people are saying. Sylvie did the right thing in creating the multiverse. The entire argument against creating the multiverse is predicated on He Who Remain's claim that there are worse versions of him out there, and he is the best possible solution.

To make this easier, I'm going to refer to variants of He Who Remains, as Kangs, and only use He Who Remains when I'm specifically talking about the person we meant in episode 6. So let's talk about all those Kangs. So the first thing we have to ask is, can there, in fact, be a worse Kang than He Who Remains?

I'd say no. Think about it. He Who Remains destroyed every timeline but one. He literally fed every person who ever lived and ever would live to Alioth millions of times over. It's mass murder on an incredible scale. He argues that without what he did, all of reality would be destroyed. That one surviving reality is better than the destruction of everything.

But as far as we know, none of the Kangs want to destroy all of reality. If one of them did, presumably enough of the others would band together to stop him. We are told they are capable of working together, in the same way, that some Loki's can get along, while others fall into ridiculous circles of betrayal.

So what do the other Kangs want? From the comics, we know Kang the Conqueror wants to rule over the multiverse. Compared to the alternative, that is not so terrible because He Who Remains already does rule over everything, except he's forcing people to live in one reality without choice. In the single Universe created by He Who Remains, there is no free will. No one can do anything that He Who Remains does not allow. If they do, the TVA prunes them, and they get fed to Alioth. That is absolute tyranny. At least in a multiverse ruled by a Kang, people would still be able to make choices.

Also, He Who Remains' timeline is limited. It ends. We see it, and it's a circle that loops back in on itself, and I suspect that's not natural. Yes, it seems fair to assume that eventually, time and the Universe will end, but consider what we hear about the future from the TVA. The Time Keepers are supposedly in the process of writing the future. We know the TVA tells all sorts of lies, but also they are time travelers. Clearly, they can't see the heat death of the Universe (or however else it might end). There's a point in time they can't travel past. Otherwise, they would not need to talk about an unwritten future.

So why does time seem to stop at a point where the Universe seems like it should continue? And when is that point? I think it has to be either when He Who Remains was born or at least sometime early in his life. Why? Well, any Kang born in He Who Remains Universe has to be a variant. This Kang could live his life exactly as He Who Remains did, until the point when He Who Remains discovered the multiverse because there is no multiverse to discover. And if this new Kang figured that out, sooner or later, he would find out about He Who Remains, and then trouble would begin all over again.

So time has to stop at some point. Even if He Who Remains were to actively prune himself before he could discover the lack of a multiverse, he has to make sure that no one else can ever discover it either. That's why there can be a Void at the End of Time. That's why we see the timeline in a loop around the Citadel, and why He Who Remains shows us the multiverse as a series of rings.

So He Who Remains has to stop time at a certain point. He has to destroy the future of the Universe. He isn't just controlling everything; in reality, he also destroys it, but without the opportunity for a new reality to rise up afterward.

But surely the other Kangs are worse, right? I mean, we know one of them is building giant statues of himself. Maybe the other Kangs are more arrogant. Perhaps some of them enjoy being cruel. He Who Remains is kind of endearing in a crazy 'I've been locked in my room for too long' kind of way. I suspect when we do see Kang, he will not be so friendly.

But that doesn't mean the other Kangs are worse. We don't know which Kang began the multiverse war; we only know which one ended it, and he did it in the most bloody way possible. He Who Remains is also very patronizing. He clearly believes that people can't be trusted with free will, but that's because he doesn't trust himself with it.

The cause of the multiverse war is Kang. He is the problem. Some of him can't get along with others of him, and they create a dangerous war over it. I'm sure other people get pulled into this war; that's how wars work, and if you were being invaded by another reality, why wouldn't you fight back?

But wars happen, and they end. He Who Remains believes the only possible end can be his solution or all of reality being destroyed. He believes he is inevitable.

But, you might say, wars hurt people, lots of people across lots of realities will suffer and die. Yes, probably true, but at least those people were allowed to live and exist before they suffered and died. In the Universe of He Who Remains, those people never got a chance to be happy, fall in love, or even live. Is it really better for entire realities not to have existed at all?

If He Who Remains is right, and he will just be born again, and take over everything all over again, then at least Sylvie has bought the multiverse a chance to breathe. Timelines will once again come into existence, people will once again have free will, at least for a while, until it all ends again.

But what about that Kang who builds statues of himself? We don't know much about his timeline yet, but let's assume it's not just the TVA that knows about him. Let's assume he's set himself up as God, and everyone in all of his reality's time and space knows that Kang is the ruler of the Universe, that he decides everyone's fate.

To be fair, that's probably a more boring timeline, but is it a worse one? First of all, Kang effectively is God; he really does determine what people are allowed to do and sends his TVA to erase them. Which actually isn't any different than what He Who Remains is doing; Kang is just upfront about it. If this Kang wants to be worshiped by all of existence. Well, at least there are no religious wars because there are no different religions; there is only Kang.

It comes down to a matter of personal preference at that point. If you live in a deterministic universe, where you have no control over the choices you make and no ability to change your life for the better, are you happier off knowing that or not knowing it?

Personally, I would rather know. I would rather know that my mistakes were not my fault because I just wasn't allowed to do better. I wouldn't have to feel guilty or bad about anything I did because I had no choice in doing any of it.

Other people might prefer not to know. They might prefer the illusion of free will. But whatever you prefer, is one Kang worse than the other? One is more honest but also more arrogant. As I said, the Kang as God-King of the Universe strikes me as more boring because there would not be as much room for art, philosophy, and all kinds of expression as people try to understand the nature of reality.

On the other hand, no ship-wars unless Kang finds them amusing.

Finally, there's the dumb meta reason that Sylvie was right. We know Kang can be stopped. We know there's another solution to the multiverse and that all reality in the MCU isn't going to end because Disney is going to keep making more content. Yeah, Sylvie and Loki and can't know that, but it's a question of whether they believe the Universe deserves the chance to prove itself better than Kang or if enslavement is its only option.

[p---ink]

Stark Contrasts: Chapter One

Author’s Note PLEASE READ: Hi, this is my very first published fan fiction, and I wrote it because its so rare to find Tony Smut. Everyone wants him as a dad, while I want him as a daddy. Please give this story a chance, and if there are any grammar errors let me know. I proofread the shit out of this, but there's always the chance that I missed something. When you write something it could make perfect sense to yourself, but 0 sense to the next person. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my story, I really enjoyed writing it! Also as aforementioned (hope I’m using that word right), this is my first story so go easy on me! I only have room to improve. PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK!

Summary: AU where you're dating Tony Stark’s son, even though it’s Tony you really want. He isn't ironman in this one guys sorry.

Warnings: Smut, cheating, daddy kink, some other shit I already forgot about. :)

Song: The song I listened to while writing this was Kiss it Off Me by Cigarettes After Sex. 

Word Count: 7.4K 

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Disclaimer: Gif is not mine.

You and Edward James Stark had been dating for a solid six months before you both declared your undying love for one another. Had you known he was lying through his teeth you would have never said those three words. Not even a month after that, you found him in bed with another girl. You see, he was a serial cheater who didn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming though, you weren’t the best at picking them. 

Edward was not the first, and he would not be the last to break your heart. Blame it on your daddy issues, or maybe blame it on the shit-head men who insist on eating their cake and having it to. Of course he gave you every bullshit excuse in the book to keep you from leaving. “We were really drunk” is what he came up with when you first caught him cheating. “Those are my cousin's”, was what he said when you found a pair of panties that weren’t yours in his penthouse. Your favorite excuse though, was the one where he blamed your all-night study sessions on his latest fuck-up due to the lack of attention you were giving him. 

 You didn’t know why Edward was still with you, especially since he could have relatively any woman he wanted. Perhaps it was because you were great for his brand; you were a good girl, straight-A student who made everyone around you fall in love. You could charm the pants off of your professors and peers, and you were one of the nicest people anyone would ever meet. It didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes either. Above all however, was your modesty and selflessness. You always put others happiness above your own, which made you completely different to Edward’s arrogance and narcism. 

You and others often questioned how you even fell for him. You had a theory that he only dated you, because you were what the other guys wanted. 

Whatever the reason he chose to stay, could not matter any less than it did to you…because the reason you stayed, was because you were hopelessly in love with his dad. 

Tony Stark—girl, did God take his time with this one, was a more seasoned, mature version of his son. Don’t get me wrong because he was just as cocky, but in a more attractive way. And the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, because the billionaire playboy had just reached a divorce settlement due to his infidelity. In other words, he was just as much of a piece of shit as his son, the only difference was that he was trying to change. He was older than any of the men you had ever been with, but maybe, like him, you needed a change of pace. 

You met Tony seven months into your relationship with Edward. He had hoped if you saw how rich his family was, you would want to stick around. If he knew you were still with him because you wanted to fuck his dad he would have lost his shit. Yea, Edward was the type of guy to throw a bitch-fit if you so much as blinked at a guy in the wrong way, yet he wouldn’t hesitate to fuck a bitch for breathing. 

Though Tony had a notorious reputation for being cruel to the women he either slept with or wanted to sleep with, he was good as gold to you. He appreciated your love and passion for your studies and crafts. He thought it was refreshing that you spoke your mind with no fear of repercussions, most people kissed his ass with the hope that he would give them a handout or put in a good word in terms of life-changing opportunities. What he loved most about you, was the faraway look you had when you were thinking. He thought that your carefree spirit was the secret to your beauty. 

It was not lost on you that Tony at least felt some of the same feelings towards you that you did to him. You’d be an idiot to not notice the long trips his eyes would take across your body, or the fact that he insisted on doing menial tasks for you that you could easily do for yourself. The sexual tension and flirty conversations with hidden meanings were enough to have the two of you in a bedroom for hours, but you both would never act on your feelings. He didn’t want to hurt his son, and while you couldn’t care less about Edward’s feelings, you didn’t want people to think you were that kind of girl. That being said it really surprised you when he offered for you and Edward to move in with him. 

You had known each other for several months now, and up until then you two avoided each other when you could, due to your feelings, but Tony claimed his house was too big for just him since Pepper, Edward’s mom, was now gone. Edward was on board with the idea, because it meant more time to kiss his father’s ass in hopes of him eventually letting him inherit Stark Industries. 

“..anyway, I think it’s a good idea.” Tony explained, ripping you out of your daze. You all were currently sitting in his dining room drinking coffee and discussing the move. “I have plenty of room, and all I ask is that you pull your own weight. Your mother took the housekeeper along with–“Edward interrupts.

 “Yes dad I know, along with–“ Tony cuts him off.

“Hush Eddy, daddy is speaking. Along with my beloved corgi Jarvis who was like the son I never had”. Edward rolls his eyes, while you stifle a chuckle that earns a glare from Eddy, and a wink from Tony. 

“Anyway,” Eddy starts, “We think it's a great idea dad, we’ll do it.” You internally groan at his use of we. What the hell does he mean we, you weren’t that out of it to not remember if he had asked you how you felt. There he goes again thinking about himself. 

“There you go again thinking about yourself.” Tony mocks, once again pulling you out of your thoughts, as if he could hear them. “You didn’t even ask poor Y/N how she felt about all of this.” He turns his attention to you and starts, “Now I know your university is further away from my place, but I could provide you with a car–“ This time you interrupt.

“Hold on Mr. Stark, this is too much. We’re only three months into our lease, I don’t want to impose on you, and you shouldn’t be just giving cars out like its noth–“

“Y/N” Tony starts, holding eye contact with you, “…daddy is speaking”. You felt small because of what he just said, but in a good way. Your panties were getting wetter the longer he looked at you so you broke eye contact. Tony relished in your submissiveness. Eddy, as clueless as always brushed off his dad’s comment and decided it was just another one of his eccentric quirks, but you knew and Tony knew what he was doing. This is why you didn’t think it was a good idea to move in.

 “And for the one thousandth time, you can call me Tony. Now where was I? Ah, you didn’t let me finish” he continues, “I could provide you with a car, or a driver, as long as you’re comfortable with it. I’ll never do something without running it by you to make sure its okay”. That there was the reason you loved Tony more than you would ever love Edward. Eddy rushed into things with no regards for your feelings, and when you voiced your worries or concerns he’d blame it on you for not telling him or guilt-trip you into just going with it.

Tony took his time with you. He was patient, and he tuned into how you perceived things. He was a real man. And if this was how he was with you now you could only imagine how attentive he would be to your other needs.

“Maybe we can work something out with your lease. I can continue paying your bills. That way if you guys need an escape away from me to fuck your brains out, its still there”. You cringed at that last part, which didn’t go unnoticed by Tony, who was always watching you. 

You don’t sleep with Edward. Besides the fact that he was a cheater, he never made you cum. He was the type to chase his own nut at the sake of your own. 

“I really think having young people around here would liven the place up.” Tony finished. “So what do you say kid, you wanna move in so we can have some fun?” Tony asked briefly raising an eyebrow.

 His hands were clasped together on the table, while his long pointer finger taped his closed fist absentmindedly. His mouth was tucked in a firm smile and his honey brown eyes, which were focused on yours, were gleaming with hope. You smile back and brace yourself. How could you say no to this?

♡♡♥︎♡♡

Three months had passed since you and Ed moved in with his dad. While your relationship with Edward began to decay more than it already had, the one you had with Tony only blossomed. 

You became more comfortable around him. The two of you would watch movies together, go grocery shopping with each other, cook, bake and sing embarrassing songs out loud without a care in the world. Your favorite part of your relationship however,  was the late night conversations the two of you would have when you couldn’t sleep. They happened more often than sometimes. How in the world could you sleep, when the two of you were in such close proximity. 

Naturally, your feelings for each other only grew stronger, which was exactly what you were afraid of. Though the two of you still had Edward to worry about, he never seemed to care about your budding relationship. He was too involved with himself or one of his latest escapades to notice the events unfolding in front of him. And if he did notice, he thought it was innocent. It was just his girlfriend and dad bonding. 

Tony and you never discussed how you felt about the other, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. The only thing in your way was his son, but that was about to change since Edward’s ass-kissing began to work. His dad was finally about to give him a feel for how to run the company.

 This of course meant more responsibilities, more control, and more time away from home. Tony couldn’t take it anymore. Part of him wanted to remain faithful to his son, but the other part couldn’t sleep peacefully knowing you were just a wall away. At least with Eddy being gone, he could see if the two of you could resist each other. He wanted to test himself, and see if he had really changed. And if he hadn’t, at least he would get you out of it. This was a good thing, he would tell himself. While Edward worked hard to prove he was worthy to his dad,Tony would work even harder to prove that he changed by forcing himself to resist you. If only you would make it that easy for him. 

You were innocent enough, but that’s what drove him crazy. The way your knee would brush against him when you guys were sitting close watching a movie. Or when you would accidentally tap your foot on his when you sat across from each other at the dinner table. Don’t get him started on the way you’d look away from him, when you realize you said something that may have crossed the line. Anything you did would set him off, and he was beginning to regret sending Edward away. 

“Y/N”, Tony shouts, trying to find out exactly where you were in the house. It was 2 p.m. and he had just got home from training Eddy. The car he brought you was still in the driveway so he knew you were home. “Y/N, could you come here for a second.”

“I’ll be there in a minute” You shouted back. You had just had a workout, as you usually spent your mornings in his home gym to relieve stress. You jogged into the kitchen where you had heard his voice earlier. Tony heard you bouncing through the hallways, but his focus was on the trash that you failed to take out this morning. 

“I thought it was your turn to take care of the waste” He states, taking his glasses off before turning his attention to you. “Kid, we had an agree–“ He stops his rant when he realizes your risky attire. You had on a sports bra that accentuated your full breasts perfectly, and your track shorts didn’t leave much to the imagination. Your curly afro sat on your head like a crown, while a few stray pieces fell into your eyes like bangs. Your pecan-tan skin was currently glowing with a sheen of sweat from your previous workout. You looked like the Goddess Aphrodite hand-sculpted you herself. 

“I can take care of it now, I’m sorry. I just got a bit distracted” You apologize. 

“N-No, I can do it, besides these old bones need the exercise from the walk anyway” Tony stutters, patting his arms and averting his eyes. “You can continue whatever it was you were doing”. He excuses himself from the kitchen, but not without giving you one more lingered glance. 

You smile to yourself, knowing you were the reason he was so flustered. Sweaty from your morning activities you decide to grab a shower. You jog upstairs, grab a towel and head into you and Eddy’s shared room to prep. Grabbing your bathroom essentials you quickly get naked, and wrap the towel around yourself. While reading a text, you walk towards the bathroom.

 Not paying attention to where you were going, you crashed into Tony who was heading in from taking out the trash. The sudden contact was so hard that you had to catch your towel from falling and exposing your naked person. 

“I'm so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going” you apologize, but when you look up at him, his expression is blank, only his eyes were a darker shade of brown than his usual soft honey. 

A moment passed before he held you upright and patted your shoulders, “Just be more careful next time” he simply states. On that note he walks off towards his room, leaving you alone to be the one who’s flustered this time. 

♡♡♥︎♡♡

About twenty minutes had passed since your little hallway accident. Tony had tried throwing himself into a book, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft you felt in his arms for the split second he got to hold you. Being so enthralled in his thoughts, the loud thud and the yelp that followed caused him to jump out of his skin. 

Immediately running to your aid, he rushed to towards the bathroom to investigate the noise. Flinging the door open, expecting to find you bleeding out on the tub’s floor, he is surprised to see you on top of the counter, eyes wide in terror. The thud came from a fallen bathroom organizer. All of its contents were sprawled across the floor. Tony looked from you, to the mess, then back to you, silently demanding an explanation.

 “I thought I saw a spider…but it was just a clump of my hair, I’m so sorry” You cried. He looked at you with tired eyes, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. You imagined what he must think of you.

How could such a smart girl, be so dumb, you thought. You felt so embarrassed. The circumstances almost made you forget the position you were in. Like before, nothing but a tiny towel to cover your soaking wet body. Tony didn’t know if he believed in God, but if there was one, he was testing him. 

“It’s okay,” he began,

 “Go put some clothes on, while I clean up this mess.” 

“Tony I did it, so I should handle it” you try to argue, but like always he cut you off and insisted, 

“This is my house, and you’re a guest. Now go do as I said.” He was firm with his words. So you hopped off the counter, and went to do as he said, face and neck hot from the embarrassment you just endured. You just wanted to lock yourself in your room until you gained the courage to face him again. Which is exactly what you did.

♡♡♥︎♡♡

Hours later, you woke up from a nap and found yourself growing hungry. Figuring that around this time of night Tony would be in his study, you venture downstairs in hopes of finding some food.

After eating, you fix yourself a snack and choose a movie. As of lately living with Tony, made you feel sexually frustrated, so you chose Fifty Shades of Gray thinking nothing of it. Edward would likely not be coming home tonight, since he usually blew off steam with a whore or two after work, and Tony was most likely settled in for the night.  You would be all alone with your thoughts and fantasies. That was until Tony plopped himself down on the couch next to you. 

“Watcha watching?” He teased in a childish manner, eyes glued to the screen. 

“Um, Fifty Shades of Gray” you replied, immediately regretting your choice of entertainment. I mean it was a shitty movie, why were you watching it in the first place?

 “Hmm interesting. You know believe it or not, I’ve never seen it. Mind if I watch it with you?” He asks, looking at you briefly before back to the screen. 

“Well you can watch it, but I was just about to do some cleaning” you answer, standing to your feet. 

“Are you kidding, that can wait. We always watch movies together, besides they’re better with company. Sit down.” He commanded, though he said it in a playful manner, his eyes challenged your own. You sit back down. 

“Maybe we should watch something else, this movie is pretty terrible” you suggest. 

“Silly girl, I just told you I haven’t seen it. Let me be the judge of that.” He insists. How the fuck were you supposed to escape this awkward ass situation?

“If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week” Christian declares to Anastasia, before leaning down to take a bite of her toast. 

“I like the way this Gray thinks” Tony whispered. 

You heard, him but you elected to ignore him. The two of you had tested the waters way too much today. 

Shifting in your seat to make yourself more comfortable, your thigh brushes against his warm hand. You slightly jump further away, the gesture making you realize just how close the two of you were. Tony chuckles at your actions. He always loved making you squirm. You think he got off at how worked up you’d get. 

“What’s funny?” You challenge, eyeing him because you were getting a little agitated at this point. 

“Nothing” he simply replies, eyes never leaving the screen. The hand that you brushed against was now hanging over the edge of the couch, he had crossed his legs so that his foot rest on his knee, and there was smug look on the bastard’s face. He looked too comfortable with this shit. 

You thought about all of the seats in the room. You even thought about all of the tv’s he had in his house. Why was this smug son-of-a-bitch sitting so close to you after everything that happened today? Did today’s events mean nothing to him? Did it only bother you? Maybe you only imagined that Tony had feelings for you.

 “Look kitten, I know how sexy I am, but would you mind watching the screen instead of me?” Tony states, finally meeting your gaze. You hadn’t realized you were still staring, so you apologized, fell back in your seat and began browsing apps on your phone to distract yourself from your growing shame. 

Fast-forward into the movie, and you guys come across your first sex scene. No matter who you were watching them with, sex scenes always felt uncomfortable to you. You thought of ways to escape the room. You reached into your popcorn bowl, and immediately found your way out. “I’m gonna go and get some more snacks.” You yell, jumping up to remove yourself.

 “But there’s plenty of popcorn, how much do you need?” Tony argues, startled from your outburst. 

“Well we could always use more, my stomach is like a black void.” You state before taking the half empty bowl, and running towards the kitchen. 

Finally away from him and that wretched movie, you had minute to collect your thoughts. While you act like you’re doing something, you fail to notice the footsteps slowly approaching.

“What are you doing to me?” Tony questions, his sudden presence making you jolt away from the task at hand. 

“Tony, you scared me” you sigh, grasping your chest. Thinking about his choice of words, you quirk your eyebrow and ask, “What does that question mean?” You’re genuinely confused about his random interrogation. He was leaning against the doorway on the other side of the kitchen. His gaze was currently fixated on your figure, eyeing you up and down. His dark hair looked like he had just ran a hand through it, and his arms were crossed forcing his muscles to bulge. He pushed himself off the wall and started towards you slowly, the closer he got the further you backed away.

 “It means, why are you running around here half-naked one minute, then acting innocent the next? Hmm? Are you trying to test me?” He accuses. 

 “I don’t know what you–“ 

“Don’t act stupid Y/N.” Tony warns. “You’re a smart girl, and you know what you’re doing”. His voice is raised slightly, and though he isn’t the tallest, his height towers yours at the moment. “Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you? You didn’t make it easy today.” At this point he had you backed in between the kitchen island and himself. He was close enough that you could smell his skin. A mixture of sandalwood and citrus assaulted your nostrils, and sent your mind into a blissful haze. He wasn’t lying, you knew exactly what you were doing. Even if it wasn’t intentional, your body craved him. It was as if the two of you were being pulled by a gravitational force towards each other. You just couldn’t help not being around him. 

You stayed silent. Your only form of communication was the look you were giving him. As your doe-like eyes bore into his, your lips quivered with anticipation. 

“Kid, you shouldn’t look at me like that.” He warned.  Straightening himself, to appear more intimidating, he asks, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy” was all that you could say. You swear you didn’t mean to, but your body betrayed your better judgement. Would he believe you if you told him that?

“Oh fuck” he sighed, before throwing his self-control out of the window. His hands were on your face pulling your lips to his in a fevered manner. He licked your lips begging for entrance, and you immediately obeyed his request. Although his lips were softer than any you’d ever felt, they were rough against you, desperate to show you the months of pent-up sexual tension in one heated session. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed the area beneath your thighs, and lifted you on the island. You reached your hands up to his hair, to tangle your fingers in the almond strands pulling him closer in the process. You wrapped your legs around his waist to feel his hardening bulge against your entrance. He groaned at the gesture, holding your waist in his hands.

 He pulled back for air, but it wasn’t long before he attached his lips to your neck. You tried to bite back a moan, but Tony being the arrogant prick he was sensed that, and took it as a challenge. He dug his fingers into your thighs, and slowly dragged them closer to the hem of your shorts tugging at them while simultaneously sucking hard on your neck. This action produced a whole slew of moans from you. Between the burn from the trails his nails made, and the spots he licked on your neck, you were in shambles. You placed one hand on the back of his neck, and used the other to claw at the fabric of his dress shirt. But then, he suddenly stopped. 

You opened your eyes to figure out what had distracted him, when you saw he was focused on the phone beside you. It was vibrating and lit up to reveal a notification from a close friend. But the text wasn’t what Tony focused on. It was the lock-screen that Edward made you save of the two of you. Son of a bitch, you thought. Suddenly consumed with guilt, Tony removed your hands from his neck and shoulder. 

“Sweetheart, we can’t do this. I’m sorry for coming on to you like that” He sighed, upset that he let things get this far. 

“Tony please don’t stop, I’ll do anything you want,” You beg, grabbing at his shirt and tightening your legs around his waist “please just stay.” You plead. 

“Maybe if you were never with my son, we could make this work, but you know that we cant. I’m sorry princess.” He unwraps your legs, and kisses your fingers before bringing your hands down to your sides. As he walks away, you shout, 

“I don’t let him touch me.” He stops in his tracks, “You’re the only man I want inside of me. Please don’t go.” You pleaded one last time. It takes every bone in his body not to turn around and take you right there, but he continues walking, grabbing his keys and heading out the door, leaving you all alone.

♡♡♥︎♡♡

When he had left, Tony originally planned on going to a bar to drink his problems away, but he just couldn’t start the damn car. He opted on sitting in the driveway for two hours instead. He contemplated going on vacation for a few days to get himself together. Or maybe he could spend his days at the company like Edward did. He even thought about packing you up to run away with him to the Poconos. That way you’d be away from Edward, and away from judgmental eyes. But alas, the best thing to do would be to go inside, talk out your issues, and decide from there. So that’s what he would do. 

When he entered the foyer, he immediately noticed the packed luggage in the entryway. It was yours. Oh hell no, he thought, she doesn’t just get to leave. 

More determined than before, he marches upstairs ready to confront you and beg you to stay. If anyone was gonna leave, it’d be him since he started the situation. Just before he knocked on your door to speak with you, he stopped due to the faint noises he heard on the other side. Were you already talking to someone? No.

 What he heard were needy pants and moans, and what he thought was his own name. Carefully opening the door slightly ajar, he peeked in to see you lying in bed. Your eyes were closed, and you had changed into an over-sized tee. Your hair was sprawled across your pillow, and your hands were busy at their own tasks. You had one underneath your shirt, toying with your nipples, and the other was underneath your panties finger fucking your hole. 

This. This was his breaking point. A man could only take so much.

 He burst into your room, alarming you so bad you leap out of your skin and sit up on your elbows. He began loosening his tie while he continued his stalk towards. He wasted no time crawling on top of the bed to hover above your face. He placed a hand beside your head to hold himself up, and then he ripped your drenched fingers out of your panties to examine them. Eyeing your slick digits, he pushed them into his mouth and slowly removed them, groaning from the taste. 

“Is this all for me?” He whispers, loud enough for you to hear. 

You didn’t answer him because you were still stunned from his unexpected appearance. Growing impatient from your silence, Tony slaps your pussy, causing you to whimper. “When daddy asks you a question, he expects an answer, okay kitten?” 

“Yes daddy” you choke out in a strangled moan. 

“Mmm, good girl” Tony praises. He grabs your hips , and positions you so that you're face down while your bare legs dangle off of his lap. 

“You know Y/N, you’ve been a very bad girl” Tony starts, as he takes off his tie. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson for being such a tease” As he says this, he wraps the fabric around your wrists, tightly securing it. He then proceeds to remove your panties. You can feel his dick getting harder. You squirm, placing your heat over his. “Don’t move.” He commands, before he places a hand on your ass, rubbing circles on it. “Now, be a good girl and count em for me.” Before you could protest, Tony delivers a harsh smack to your left cheek, you try to stifle the squeal that escapes your throat, which just makes him even more aggressive. 

“Fucking count, and if you hold in another sound, it's only gonna get much worse.” He cautions. 

“One” you cry. Smack, “T-two” the second blow was much harder than the last. 

Eight smacks later, and you can finally end this torment. “Ten!” you cry out, voice shaking, and  tears streaming down your face. By the time he got to ten, you were sure he’d left a handprint. Your tears stained the sheets, but he wasn’t done with you yet. He soothes the areas he smacked earlier with his hands. He leans down and begins to place kisses on your throbbing skin. You whine at the feel of warm lips, yearning for more, “I’m sorry about today Tony. Just please…no more teasing.” You beg, already dreading what he has in store. 

Tony pauses to respond, “You’ve been saying sorry quite a bit today, kitten. But it’s not gonna work this time.” He soothes, ignoring your pleas. 

When he’s done planting kisses, he takes two of his thick fingers to run between your sopping wet lips. He lightly brushes a finger against your clit, causing you to wiggle. “Look at daddy’s girl. So nice and wet, just for me.” He moves you both so that he’s face to face with your ass. “Such a pretty pussy.” he praises, in awe of how beautiful the sight before him is, dick growing harder by the minute. Fed up with waiting, he inserts his tongue into you. You taste even better than he had imagined. You fist the sheets underneath you, crying in bliss. You could feel the hair from his beard ticking the inside of your thighs. That, paired with the thick tongue inside of you, made you a moaning, writhing mess. 

He’s biting and sucking on your lips, carefully making sure to collect all of your juices. His tongue occasionally darts between your folds, causing you to yelp and squirm. You can’t help bucking your hips backwards to relieve some of the tension. To focus better on your clit, he reaches one of his arms under your leg, and plants  his hand on the area above your ass to hold you steady. He uses the other hand to finger fuck you while his tongue toyed with your clit. 

Pushing yourself against his tongue was all that you could do since your hands were still tied, but Tony had a death-grip around your waist now.“Please untie me daddy, please I can’t take this anymore”, you whine, getting overwhelmed from the pleasure. 

He comes up for air, and says “Since you asked so nicely princess.”,  and with that, he flips you over so that you’re on your back, unties your wrists, then trails kisses down your body until he reaches your pussy again. He was hungry, and you were the only one who could satisfy him. 

You tangle your hands in his hair, pull him closer to your mound, and start to grind yourself against his face.You were chasing your orgasm at this point and any kind of friction helped you get closer, but he didn’t seem to mind; it just turned him on even more. Tony begins sucking on your clit like his life depended on it. He used his fingers to stretch you open. First it was just one, then two, and now a third had you feeling full. Unable to stand the pleasure any longer, you began pushing him away. He placed an arm over your waist to restrain you. Still fingering you, he looked up to say, “Stay still. I’m just trying to make you feel good”. You throw your head back in response, moans roaring from your chest. 

 Even though you were just lying there, the sounds you made, and the way you tasted were setting him off. He wasn’t eating your pussy just to please you, he was doing it to please himself too. He started to hum into you, and the vibrations sent you over the edge. “Tony I’m so close” you cry, as you try to push him away one last time. The feeling was too new and foreign to you, “Fuck daddy, I’m cumming!” you screamed, just before you came all over his face.

He continues licking and sucking to help you ride out your high. Tears were clouding your vision. He finally comes up, meeting your eyes. He sits on his knees in between your legs, and begins to wipe away your tears. “You see the mess you made?” He questions, referring to his wet lips and fingers. You take the long appendages into both hands, and without breaking eye contact, place them in your mouth only to slowly remove them, repeating his actions from earlier. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” he says more to himself than to you. 

“Anything you want.” You reply. 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you in awe. You take advantage of his silence, to get up and meet his level. You both just stare at each other for a moment. He’s the one to make the first move. You two share a slow and passionate kiss. He fights for dominance, and you obey him. 

Your hands are placed on his shoulders to steady yourself. He rubs his hands up and down your sides, contemplating whether or not he wants to get rid of your baggy t-shirt. He decides he does. He breaks the kiss to pull the material over your head. He’s instantly met with your perky brown breasts, and the chocolate buds that grace the middle of them. 

Grabbing your neck to pull you back in for a kiss, he begins palming at your chest. You move away from his lips to attack his neck. You slowly lick a stripe up towards his ear, biting the lobe when you meet it. Tony growls at the gesture, tugging your hair and making you whimper in the process. You continue endeavors, sucking and biting. You blow cold air over the bruises you make, which drives him crazy. He starts tugging at one of your nipples with and brings his free hand down to play with your clit again. You kiss your way passed his neck, to meet his collarbone. Before you can go any lower, he stops you.

“Not this time princess. Tonight is about you.” He coos, grabbing your chin up to meet your face. “Trust me we’ll have plenty of time for that in the future.” You can’t help the small smile that comes to your face at the mention of this happening again. 

“Look at that pretty smile, I can never get enough of that.” He returns a smile to you, and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt. He stands up to pull the fabric off his shoulders, and tosses it to the other side of the room. You crawl over to him, and begin unbuckling his pants. “Impatient are we” he chuckles, cupping your chin. He bites his lip, turned on by how eager you are. 

When you finish unbuckling, he pushes you back on the bed to finish releasing himself. His member is bigger than you imagined and you wonder if it will even fit. 

“Get over here” he commands. You do as he says. He pulls you to the edge of the bed and lines himself up with your entrance. He teases you both by pushing himself between your folds to gather some lubricate. His head was big, so even that felt a little uncomfortable. 

When he felt he collected enough wetness, he pulled back so that his tip aligned with your opening. “Do you want me stop?” He asks, sensing your uneasiness. 

“No. Keep going” you respond, you’ve wanted this for so long, a little pain wasn’t going to stop you.

He eases his head into you, causing you both to let a string of obscenities. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He growls, hunched over trying to ease the rest of himself in. Your mouth was wide open, and you didn’t breathe out of fear that you were gonna pop. Tears began to well up in your eyes. For one, you hadn’t been fucked in so long it felt like you were a virgin, and two, Tony had the biggest dick you’d ever taken. 

“Sweetheart just relax for me” he urges, the veins in his dick were pulsating against the walls of your pussy. He would explode if he didn’t fuck you within the next two minutes. You try to do as he says. He reaches between the two of you, to apply pressure to your clit, which immediately makes you welcome him. He waits for you to adjust to his size.  When he feels you clench around him, he pins your hands above your head, and starts to fuck you into the mattress. His strokes start off slow, but hard. He’s rolling his hips into yours, and his grunts and your moans are filling your ears. You shut your eyes, the pleasure beginning to overtake you. Tony reaches between you to pinch your clit. You yelp and fling your eyes open. “Don’t take your eyes off of me baby.”

He picks up the pace, and starts to fuck you faster. His hips are smashing into yours, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “You look so pretty with my cock stuffed inside of you.” He growls, “Who else fucks you like this, hmm?” He questions. 

“No one, Tony” you whimper, relishing in his dirty talk.

 “Better not be” , he warns before delivering a particularly hard thrust that makes you cry out in pain. “You look so good underneath me. Fuck!” He grunts. “Say my name, princess.”

“Tony” you whimper, which was apparently the wrong answer because now he’s fucking you at an inhuman speed. 

He pinches your clit again, “Silly girl, thats not it. What’s my name?”

“Daddy!” you scream,

 “Good girl” he grunts, before burying himself into your neck claiming your skin. He doesn’t give a fuck about Edward at this point. He’s fucking you in his son’s bed, and he wouldn’t even care if he caught the two of you right now. That would be his punishment for the way he treated you.

His hand still on your clit, his throbbing dick inside you, and even his bare chest rubbing against your nipples is enough to make you explode. “D-daddy I’m gonna cu-umm.” You stutter, your words becoming incoherent. The pleasure was so intense you couldn’t think straight. 

“Cum on Daddy’s cock, kitten.” He whispers into your ear, sending you over the edge. 

“Fuck!”, you screamed, when he kept fucking you even after you came. Tony was close too, his thrusts were becoming more inaccurate, and he began to pull out before you stopped him. 

“Cum inside of me.” You begged, wrapping yourself around him. 

And that’s when you see something in him snap. You didn't have to tell him twice. He kicks up the pace sending your body up and down against the mattress as he urges himself to give you what you both want. 

And after one more thrust, he lets out a sound so animalistic, and spurts his seed into your sex. All you can feel is his hot cum filling you up, as you both come down from your highs.

 Staying put for a moment, he looks down at you, both of you covered in sweat, and tired from tonight’s activities. You both are gasping for air, trying to catch your breath. Tony was usually a man who kept his composure, so to see him before you now, sweat rolling down his body, disheveled hair, gasping for air, completely fucked out,  was a memory you hoped to never forget. 

He finally decided to remove himself from you, and you instantly felt empty. He left the room for a moment, only to return in a pair of sweatpants. He also had a damp washcloth, that he used to clean you with.  “Who knew you could be so sweet” you murmur grabbing your t-shirt off the floor to pull it over your head, before you push yourself under the covers of your bed. 

“You’re right. Now I have to kill you.” He responds, making you giggle. He smiles, “That’s such a sweet sound.” He whispers. You stop smiling and avert your gaze. 

“You don’t get to be shy now.” He says before crawling into bed next to you. You’re positioned so that your back is against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and you intertwine your legs with his. He nuzzles his face into your neck, and plants a kiss. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He asks, while playing with your hair. 

“You just did, but I guess that’s not what you meant” you say, earning a nip to the ear. “Ow! What’s your question, stupid?” you ask, chuckling. 

“Where were you gonna go? I saw your bags packed downstairs.” He asks. 

“I was gonna go back to my old apartment.”

‘I need to stop paying for that right away’, he thought. “ Well what stopped you?” He pushes. 

“I saw your car in the driveway and didn’t want you to try to stop me, so I just went back upstairs until you were gone. I guess I was still pretty horny from earlier.” you admit. 

God, did he love this girl.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Don’t ever think about leaving” he cautions. 

“Me too…and I won’t” You start. Changing the subject you say, “You know…i’ve never done that before.”

“Done what?” He prods.  

“Ive never came before.” You confess. 

“Are you serious?” He half yells, making you jump slightly. 

“Well yea, not even by myself.” 

“So you mean to tell me, Edward never made you cum? I thought I raised him better than that.” He states, making you laugh.

“Well you two are completely different.” 

“One could say, that it's a Stark contrast.” He jokes, laughing to himself.

“Remind me to never fuck a dad again.” You sigh, before turning around to give him one last kiss goodnight. 

A/N: Please tell me what you think if you've gotten this far ;)! Like, reblog, comment. Also do not repost.