#you are probably worried about the whole brainwashing thing but can we just appreciate how nice orange and purple look

[pixlokita]

If I may, Gregory's eyes look... purple, in the scene where Henry mentions his family

You knowwww he got those pretty sunset eyes ✨✨✨💖

[polyhexian]

Thinking about the emotional rollercoaster that is Hunter and Jasper's newfound developing relationship after Jasper's no longer dying of infection and everything's come to light. Hunter now knows the truth, but can he HANDLE the truth? He was already having, like, seven ongoing crises, and now he has THIS on top of them. He's just learned about a dozen new things he gets to be angry over!

Your approach to writing Hunter's trauma recovery has always been very raw. I like a good saccharine hurt/comfort fic as much as the next person, but I really appreciate the raw approach, too. Recovery isn't perfect, it can be ugly and uncomfortable and painful, and you've never shied away from that. So I'm thinking of a still-reeling-from-Hollow-Mind Hunter, freshly dumped in another dimension with his weirdo stalker who turns out to be the father he'd just gotten used to thinking never existed, and I'm looking over at Agony!Hunter and Lament!Hunter for comparison and wincing.

I commented on another post about how I feel like Hunter would WILDLY vacillate between "you should've just kidnapped me by force!" and "yeah I was definitely super brainwashed and would've run back to tell Belos everything first chance I got" for the first…however long it takes for him to come to terms with this. But I can also see him lashing out at Jasper, like, here's some of the awful things Belos did to me, I hope that telling you about them makes you hurt because I feel like you abandoned me and I'm angry. But then that eventually goes in the complete opposite direction, like, I'm not going to tell you about what horrible memory gave me nightmares tonight even though I'd feel better if I did, because I know you love me and you were trying your best and you've been hurting every day for 16 years while you tried to get me back, and I don't want to hurt you more.

Jasper just…trying to get his kid to talk to him if he needs to. Probably at some point when Hunter's clammed up Jasper has to open up a bit himself like, look, nothing you could say is going to surprise me, that man gave me more opportunities to look at my insides than I want to remember; I'll be angry and sad about what you went through, but I've spent 16 years thinking about what he might have been doing to you and trust me, nothing you say is going to send me into a horrified shock response. Maybe he's reluctant to talk about his own experiences much because 1) Remembering sucks, and 2) He doesn't want Hunter thinking he's trying to upstage his pain, but like…they have adjacent trauma from the same abuser, they're gonna understand each other on a wavelength most other people won't get.

I do feel at the very least though Jasper would nip whatever personhood-related crisis Hunter might be having in the bud. Nope, nope, none of that; it took me 12 years to figure out I was a real person with feelings, and I didn't bargain with Belos to convince him to allow you the privilege of thinking you're a person just for you to start questioning it because you found out you're part vegetable. You've got 16 years experience of believing you're a person, that's a fantastic foundation that you should NOT take a sledgehammer to. Are we real people? We damn well BETTER be after all the work I put into figuring out emotions! Maybe this is like, the one thing Jasper really puts his foot down on. He's fine if Hunter's angry at him or if Hunter never forgives him or whatever, but he absolutely draws the line at Hunter thinking he might not be a real person.

Probably doesn't help that the whole situation is likely compounded by Hunter's guilt that oh, all his friends had to leave their family behind and are super worried about them, and he just GOT his dad back but he can't even be grateful about it?? What kind of horrible person is he??

And later on, when they've progressed past the worst of the anger, and Hunter has realized that yeah, he really does want a relationship with his dad. Then his issues of self-worth and believing love is conditional come into play.

I'm imagining some point where they're having a quiet conversation, maybe on the couch late at night. Maybe it started with Hunter asking why - why did you even care, why were you so willing to die for me when you barely knew me for two minutes. And Jasper is like I don't know, I just did, but that's not good enough for Hunter so he keeps talking. He talks about growing Hunter, all the work he put in and the attention to detail, about how excited he was, how he'd quietly talk to the planter box and spill out what he was only starting to realize were real feelings, about how he'd put his finger in Hunter's little palm and feel his heart stutter when his hand closed around it.

And Hunter listens to all of this in silence, watches Jasper smiling at the memories while he speaks, and he starts thinking about himself. About how he's never been able to maintain Belos's approval, how he's never been able to impress the coven heads, how he's just a half-a-witch who's never been anywhere near as powerful as Jasper is, how he's never been able to beat the Martlet in combat, how he's got so many punishment scars, how he's been such an awful, ungrateful brat these last few weeks to this man who loves him so much; love is conditional and Hunter has done nothing to earn Jasper's love and he probably needs to figure out how to fix that before he loses what seems to be a good thing, except his failures are many and his debt to Jasper is enormous and there is absolutely no way he will ever be able to impress or repay this man.

Jasper is still smiling into the middle distance as he says something about how badly he wanted to meet Hunter and how curious he was about what kind of person he'd be when he emerged.

Hunter feels a rock sink in his stomach, and very quietly says, "Sorry for the disappointment."

And Jasper blinks and looks down at Hunter, pure confusion on his face, and asks, "Why would I be disappointed?"

ahhHHHH

jasper completely blindsided by this. he doesn't have the proper experience with hunter's self worth issues yet to expect stuff like this, its just fully like. what?? disappointed??? when did i say that?? did i make it sound like that??? shit im doing a really bad job at this i guess. but also like. disappointed?? how could i ever be disappointed? you're alive! you have friends! I'm so happy! this is everything i ever wanted! and hunter is like no, i mean, disappointed by me and what i turned out like, i'm not nearly as brave or loyal as you, im a coward. and jasper is just floored. like ???? no! you are so smart and creative and kind and you are brave! what are you talking about??? you're a great kid! cue hunter bursting into tears

[elialys]

It's interesting that it seems more proper to name P/0 child after Elizabeth than after Olivia's mother.(Elizabeth is a beautifully tragic name in the show and your fic,though.) Peter and Olivia's relationships with their own mothers are both complex but totally different. How do you understand their mother issues?

Thank you for your lovely question. I have so many feelings regarding Peter & Olivia and their relationships with their mothers. That’s a topic I’ve explored a few times in stories through the years; as someone who’s had a rather rocky relationship with my mother (to put it mildly), I know my perspective on this to be very biased, but to me, that’s the beauty of an emotionally intelligent show like Fringe. They show us just enough to get a feel of how various character dynamics are/were, all the while letting us imagine the rest.

I think it’s harder to know how Olivia’s relationship with her mother might have been, because we saw a lot less of Marylin that we did Elizabeth, and the Marylin we did see was exclusively Altlivia’s mom, who from what we know had quite a different life from Olivia’s mother. I know in this case, I’m definitely projecting my own experience. My mom also got into a relationship with someone abusive who made our lives hell for a few years, and the fallouts are extensive, long after that person is gone.

That’s why I always pictured Olivia’s childhood and relationship with her mother to be quite sad, unfortunately, since her father probably died when she was very young, then there was the abusive step dad, who she ended up shooting, only for him to traumatize her even further by sending her all those birthday cards, and then her mother dies when she was just fourteen—and I doubt those five years between the shooting and her death were happy years. But Olivia would have loved her mother no matter what, as shown on the show when she got to meet her mom’s alternate in the other universe, and the emotion of it literally broke her mind and got the other memories working.

Olivia felt strongly enough that it was her JOB to defend her mother to shoot a grown man with a gun when she was nine. That tells you so much about Olivia’s core personality (and trauma, did I mention trauma?)

Like I said, that topic is very personal to me and I have a hard time ever being objective about it, but it’s also important because of how I imagine Olivia as a mother with Etta. And that’s why I’ve always been so pained by people who misunderstand the things Olivia says about it in season 5, about her feeling like she was too ‘at odd’ and basically too messed up to deserve her little girl, and that her worrying so much instead of just appreciating having her led to them losing Etta, like a punishment.

I’m writing this right now and I don’t understand how people can misinterpret it enough to say things like “Olivia probably was cold and distant with Etta.” Like, over my DEAD BODY. She’s a traumatized human who lost her mother when she was still just a kid herself. That doesn’t mean she’s not capable of love or of being nurturing, it mostly means she probably worried herself sick over every thing and convinced herself that she was doomed to be terrible at it.

Ugh. I’m gonna need a drink before I can continue this.

ANYWAY. Peter and Elizabeth hahahaha

I think his relationship with his mom was pretty tragic and heartbreaking, too. I think that he would have loved his mother very, very much, just like Olivia loved hers, but I also think the Elizabeth he grew up with never recovered from losing her son and having to brainwash this version of Peter into thinking he was her child. We know she ended up committing suicide when he was nineteen, and from what we saw in 3x15 ‘Subject 13’, she struggled a lot with the whole fucking mess that was their life—and that was before Walter lost pieces of his brain and went insane. Now whether Elizabeth was struggling with alcoholism is up to interpretation. My reasoning has always been that the show wouldn’t have shown us Elizabeth drinking in that episode if it wasn’t meant to imply she ended up doing that a lot, so that tends to be my headcanon. Even without the possible alcoholism, I think we’re supposed to deduce from everything Peter says that she suffered from depression.

Either way, that poor man has had a SHIT childhood and adolescence. It sucks to grow up with a parent who suffers like this, it makes you feel responsible for them while also feeling absolutely helpless because you can’t really help, and also very angry because all of it is shit, honestly. In the context of the show, I can only imagine how torn and guilty Peter felt about his mother’s suicide, which happened after he left her. And that had to become that much worse after he learned the truth about his origins and realized he was basically ‘responsible’ for his mother’s ongoing misery.

Soooooo yeah. One of the things I love about Peter and Olivia is that I think they get that about each other, implicitly. Shit childhood/adolescence just shape you differently, and you can definitely tell when you meet other people who’ve had ‘similar’ experiences (can I say trauma again?) It definitely make them particularly suited for each other, as life partners and as parents.

[sentimental-darkness]

About me...

Just to give you some idea about this blog and myself!

-- It's going to sound different from 98% of blogs and users out there... and it's not narcissism talking here, it's just experience.

-- However, I don't have anything against a healthy dose of narcissism tbh = a person gotta know their own worth and embrace their selfishness, no?

-- A vast range of interests, no specific occupation, but I'm certainly someone to have open-minded conversation with... and I'm not mincing words either... the vast majority of humans are somewhere in the range of stupidity or being utterly stuck, unable to see what's right in front of them, subjected to easy brainwashing and wishful thinking, and even the brainwashers are probably mostly stupid and cliché. So how about it? Wanna talk? I don't bite!

-- If you're already brainwashed and wired a certain way, obsessed with certain causes or certain groups or certain "identities"... you better watch out because I'll probably "offend you" because "I am being rude." Oh no, how could it be! But seriously, I appreciate individuality and hate stupidity, as simple as that, which is sometimes far too complex for most.

-- In an ideal world: destroy all present day religions and temples. Erase national and ethnic identities. Erase most of the fragmented identities created in the last decade that most users of Tumblr have proudly in their bios - so we can finally put the whole weight behind being an individual who describes themselves in their own unique way. Shocking, no?

-- The previous paragraph is highly unlikely in practice and such a world-changing endeavor would require a bit different approach, but I shared it anyway just because.

-- I am "evil" and "rude", yes, but also very sympathetic and emotional. I will sometimes reblog silly things and lovely animals. Come and cuddle with me! Still, I will also make fun of military conflicts and surrounding drama. It sucks but war has been part of human history for millennia, there is no justice and nothing pretty in it. (Except when I feel like an image of a city raised to the ground is kinda... charming. But no worries, I don't really post stuff like that)

-- I have my own problems and worries, things are far from ideal. But there is zero tolerance policy for utter weakness and stupidity here, and I don't think highly of it. You guessed it. You can go back to your unoriginal depression-obsession blog and cry yourself out, if you want. But I tell you, it won't help and you do yourself a disservice. Stop taking those pills maybe. Evolve. Life can be entertaining if you let it. But don't take it to heart because my zero tolerance policy doesn't prevent you from following my blog. You could secretly think of me as your sensei if you want. Fine with me.

-- I love music. Seriously. But it's mostly orchestrated scores and gaming music, giant no to everything else. Music calms me and inspires me. Ethnic, inspiring and dark with a kick. Have some random samples because why not: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O. Anything catches your fancy?

-- My other obsessions are probably creativity, fantasy, history, and overall - consuming "worlds" and stories. In games, decently done open worlds and RPGs in particular, but I'm no stranger to other genres on occasion.

My chat and asks are open, my email remains open too. In truth, I'm waiting for a kindred soul but I've never been greeted with a better conversation than basic "hi, what's up" or anon hate. Oh well, maybe you'll be an exception, my reader?

[mypoisonedvine]

peaches & cream || soft!dark Jake Wyler x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18​'s 5k challenge! I used the prompt, "the town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks."

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut (noncon), stalking/obsession, some degradation/negging (but lots of praise during the actual smut), kinda yandere vibes?, touch of breeding kink at the end, definitely flirting with the boundary between soft!dark and regular dark but I like to think it’s a fine line

“Sorry, but that’s a seasonal flavor,” the girl at the counter explained in a snarky monotone.

“Well, yeah, but isn’t it still… the season?” you pressed; normally you weren’t the sort of person to argue with a cashier over a milkshake, but the look she was giving you made you feel like she was holding out on you— especially when the promotional poster for the very thing you were trying to order was just behind her head, and said the flavor was available for two more days.

“We’re out,” she answered firmly, but then her face suddenly shifted to a much more pleasant expression as you heard the chime of the front door opening behind you.  

You felt his body hovering behind yours just as his hand laid on the counter beside you, caging you in.  It was even more unsettling with the context that there was a whole line of people waiting behind you already.

“I’ll get your usual,” the girl promised to the man beside with a flirtatious smile as she disappeared to the back, returning almost instantly with a shake in her extended hand.  “Peaches and cream milkshake— extra whipped cream, no cherry.  Enjoy!”

Your eyes widened at the reading of your own order.  “I thought you were out!” you protested, going completely ignored.

"If you were my girl, this sort of thing wouldn't need to happen."

You recoiled from Jake's voice in your ear, and he smiled in spite of your snarl, bringing the straw to his lips slowly.  With a shudder you walked away, deciding it was probably better to forgo a milkshake anyways— especially if it was a chance to avoid everyone’s favorite senior, the football king who basically owned the whole town for no other reason than being good-looking, athletic, and allegedly “charming” or whatever.

Of course, he followed you, sitting across from you in a booth and silently shooing his posse of fellow teammates to go off and give you two some space.  If only he would give you space.

“We can share,” he offered as he held the milkshake out towards you.  “I know it’s your favorite… it’s mine too.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you explained quickly as you pulled a book out of your backpack, intent on ignoring him since you couldn’t physically force him to leave.

He shrugged and returned to sucking on the straw, watching you unwaveringly as you tried to read your book— staring at the page was going well, but you couldn’t seem to actually get any words down.  Had you forgotten English as a written language or something?

“Could you leave?” you finally asked as you groaned and looked up from your book.  “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m literally just sitting here,” he reminded you.

“And it’s distracting!”

He smirked proudly.  “My presence tends to have that effect on people.  Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face back in your book.  “You know, you may have everybody else fooled, but someday you’re gonna have to leave this pathetic little town and go into the real world where throwing a ball isn’t a career and nobody fawns over you just because you have the audacity to be attractive.”

He chuckled lightly.  “Right, because you have those big city dreams of yours, but believe it or not some of us like this ‘pathetic’ little town.”

“Well, of course you would,” you snorted.  “Your dad’s the mayor and your girlfriend’s the head cheerleader.”

“My ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, finally getting your attention enough to make you shut your book.

“What?” you blurted out.

“Yeah, she dumped me,” he explained plainly.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, making him look much too proud of himself again.  “Finally snapped out of the brainwashing, huh?” you added, effectively killing his smug expression.

“I guess you could say that.  She met some college guy from out of town… I think her parents liked me too much, she needed a bit more rebellion.”

“Well, my condolences to you,” you smiled, “and my congratulations to her.”

“I thought you hated her,” he scoffed.

“Well, now she and I have something in common: a complete lack of interest in you!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he smirked, “she still comes over every now and again to suck my cock.”

You choked on nothing, face getting warm at his crude language.  He didn’t talk like that with anyone else; it was so cruel the way he kept everybody in town under his spell except you, the way he let you in on his real darkness with no one else to confide in or believe you.  

It was so fundamentally lonely, being the one person who wasn’t in love with Jake Wyler.  It was even worse being the one person Jake Wyler loved.

At least, that was the word he used multiple times in his semi-anonymous letters, his incessant calls and emails, his speeches outside your window.  He’d actually cooled off lately, you wondered if maybe he had finally let go of this ‘the one thing I can’t have’ obsession and learned to appreciate his girlfriend (who, for all her personality flaws, was objectively gorgeous, and seemed to at least be nice to him if nobody else).

But now that she left him (which you were still trying to process, honestly), you were surprised he hadn’t already moved on to the next best wannabe model and/or reinstated his campaign to win you over.

Then again, the look in his eye kind of made you think you were about to witness the second one.

“You know, when she does come over, I can only ever finish because I’m thinking about you,” he revealed in a low voice.  You grimaced and slid out of the booth, stuffing your book into your bag and barely managing to throw him a goodbye before you dashed out.  

It wasn’t like you really thought you could get away from him— he had made it clear over and over that you couldn’t— but the idea of being crammed in that booth with him, surrounded throughout the diner by his adoring fans who somehow didn’t manage to overhear him when he said those awful things, made you feel nauseous.

What you should’ve considered was that, fans or not, those people were witnesses, and now that you were running out into the dark streets of the town and he was chasing after you, you didn’t have any.  It was just you and him, and when you turned into an alleyway to try to get home faster, even the dim glow of the streetlights couldn’t see you anymore.

“Hey,” he stopped you with a tight grip on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Let me go!” you whined, trying to tug yourself away but only ensuring that his hand would leave a bruise on your arm.  

“I will when you just hear me out, okay?” he hissed, spinning you around to look up at him.  "Why don't you just give me a chance?  Don't you wanna be popular?" 

"I don't want to be anything that requires being within ten yards of you!" you spat.

He seemed bewildered, but you knew he wasn’t actually that stupid.  "Why?"

"Because you know why!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a little.  "Are we still on that, really?  I told you, you should take it as a compliment.  You know how many girls would kill to catch me jerking off in their panties?"

"You're sick, Jake,” you sighed, “and you're really good at hiding it from everyone else but I know what you really are.  You told me you needed help with algebra and I actually believed you, for months you were lying to me to get close so you could perv on me when you already had a girlfriend and two side chicks anyways— god, Jake, you're crazy!"

You yelped when he pinned you to the wall, blue eyes darker than ever.  "I really, really hate that word."

Against the wall, your back straightened as you felt the tone shift completely for a moment before he was back to his jovial self again, giving you a somber but almost-genuine smile.

“The only kind of crazy I am is crazy about you,” he defended with a laugh, leaning in a little closer.  “Why can’t you see that?”

As his eyes moved from your own to your lips, a renewed sense of fear shot through you.  “Jake…” you mumbled, apparently your feeble attempt to ask him to stop.

“Just one kiss,” he bargained, “and then I’ll let you go.  Okay?  That’s all I need.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, turning your head away as he leaned in even further.  “Stop.”

“Come on, it’s just a kiss, baby,” he cooed.  “Then you can leave.  Hey, you might actually like it.  You know, I think that’s what you’re really scared about… and I get it!  When I first realized I was in love with you, it was scary for me, too— I mean, I’m the most important guy in town and you’re just some bookworm, it’s sort of social suicide for me so I had a lot to worry about.”

There he went with his negging again, trying to bring you down to his level.  Your brain knew that, it saw right through it, but your gut still sank with doubt.

“But I know now that love is nothing to be afraid of,” he concluded.

“No, Jake,” you whispered, feeling tears well in your eyes, “I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you want.”

“Well, that is something to be afraid of,” he replied with the coldest laugh you’d ever heard; you didn’t hear any agreement, but the lack of denial was deafening.  “So just be my good girl and let me kiss you…”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes wide open and searching for anywhere to look but up at him.

He was so close now that his lips brushed against yours with his command: “say it.”

You stammered over your breath, not sure exactly what he was asking for, and you winced as you felt his grip tighten on your arms.

“Say, ‘kiss me’,” he clarified in a harsh whisper.  “Say, ‘please’...”

“Please,” you repeated awkwardly, hearing it in your voice but so clearly not your own words, “kiss me.”

He let his mouth intertwine with yours and your eyes were still wide open as he let his own fall shut, moving his hands to clutch your face gently instead as you gave a weak effort to kiss him back.

Objectively, he was good at this.  A lot of things were objectively true about Jake: as much as you forced yourself not to see it, he was handsome; as much as it didn’t really matter to you, a boycotter of all things sports, he was talented; and, as much as no one else realized it, he was completely deranged.  For every word of kindness from him there was another of anger.  For every love letter in your locker, there was a threat left scrawled on crumpled paper inside your bedroom, just so he could remind you that your parents would let him into the house if he asked and never question it.

Which was why it was extremely important that you did not enjoy this kiss.  You needed to hate the way his fingers traced over the pulse in your neck, the way his tongue tickled yours, the way his teeth just barely grazed your lip until your knees went a little weak.  

But wow, there was something primally satisfying about melting into his arms, feeling his strength support you like it was nothing when he held your waist and pulled you closer.

You could almost forget that it was him.  But then he mumbled your name into the kiss, nearly moaned it in fact, and it pulled you back to reality.  With a gasp, you pushed him away and blinked your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them; hating how quickly you’d started to give in to him.

“There, one kiss,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.  “I’m gonna go home now—”

“You can’t be serious,” he laughed incredulously.  “You’re gonna kiss me like that and tell me you don’t feel this, too?  We’re so meant for each other— we even order the same milkshake!”

“That doesn’t matter!” you denied.

“I love you!”

“That doesn’t matter either!”

You turned to leave but he grabbed you again from behind, covering your mouth with his hand when you opened your mouth to scream.  “Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he hissed in your ear, “and don’t walk away from me.”

Fighting against his grip did nothing but exhaust you: he only needed one arm to hold you back as he dragged you deeper into the alley.  Your legs swung wildly and landed a kick to his shin, and he plugged your nose while he was covering your mouth so you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen to me, you stuck up little bitch,” he growled.  “I’m really sick of this ‘hard to get’ act.  I know you want me.  So shut up and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, okay?  You gonna be good?”

In that moment, you would’ve agreed to anything for a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air, and so you nodded, the back of your head rubbing against his chest.

“You gonna be nice and quiet so nobody catches you getting fucked like a whore in this alley?”

Another nod, more feverish than the last, ended with a sharp inhale as he let go of your nose.  But he was still covering your mouth, his arm around you now feeling less like restraint and more like an embrace.

"I've wanted you for so long, you can't even imagine," he explained softly as he leaned down and kissed your neck, gripping your waist tighter.  "You and this perfect body of yours.  This smart little head that thinks too much…"

You swallowed dryly as his hand trailed lower.

"This pussy you've been hiding from me for much too long," he added darkly, roughly shoving his hand up your skirt.

You whined behind his hand but he didn’t seem to care; he pulled your skirt up and grinned at the sight of your panties— because he recognized them.

“I remember these,” he purred.  “They look good on you, baby, but they looked better covered in my come.”

Your cheeks burned with shame— you already hated yourself for still wearing the pair he’d tampered with, but it was harmless after a few runs through the washer, right?  You weren’t going to stop wearing your favorite panties just for him, that would mean he won, in a sense; or, that’s what you told yourself to justify not burning them.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m done with you,” he purred, slipping two fingers between your legs and growling slightly.  “Well, actually, you’ve already done a lot of the work for me.”

He pulled the fabric aside and explored your pussy instead, tightening his grip over your mouth as you made little muffled yelps.  The rough pads of his fingers found and targeted your clit instantly, that megawatt smile pressed against your ear as he started to rub your bud harder.

“Mm, feels good, huh?” he taunted, moving even faster as your hips jolted unintentionally.  He stopped only to bring the fingers to his lips, humming at the taste of you which he sucked off of them.  “So sweet, babygirl— better than any peaches and cream milkshake, that’s for sure.”

The wet fingers trailed down your body again, finding your entrance that he suddenly pushed into; it was a little too much without any warning and it made your eyes shoot wide open, a squeak barely escaping your throat.

"Just as tight as I imagined, baby,” he sighed, “all those times I used your panties, or hooked up with somebody who almost looked like you from behind.  You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I know you want it so bad.”

He took his fingers out of you to reach back and open his belt with one hand, the sound of the buckle matched in upsettingness only by the sound of his jeans sliding down to his thighs.

You heard your own breath loud and heavy against his hand as you felt his hard cock press against your thigh, a drop of precum smearing on your skin.  Your breathing halted suddenly, though, when he slid himself between your legs to rub his cock over your exposed and swollen pussy.

“Oh, babygirl, you really are too good to me,” he grinned, kissing your ear tenderly.  “So fucking wet and ready for me, huh?  You need it that bad?  You’re gonna get it, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you so good…”

Bracing yourself as best you could, you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance before he slammed in all at once, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “fuck, you’re so warm…”

Already he was fucking into you roughly, pumping faster and deeper, paying no mind to your choked sobs of pain from the wide stretch.  Even when it stung it felt oddly good, and the underside of his cock seemed to slide perfectly over your g-spot with each movement until your eyes began to roll back in your head.

“So fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely as he braced you against the brick wall for leverage, reaching back down with his free hand to rub your clit again.  He chuckled when your legs quivered, and he must have felt your walls tighten around him, too.  “I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby, if I take my hand away are you gonna be good?” he asked darkly.  You nodded, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom that came from not having his hand over your mouth anymore.  But then again, it was humiliating that now he could hear your panting breaths, your desperate mewls that you failed to swallow down.

He made a sound that was almost like a laugh as he watched you squirm in his arms, one more way he had to lord this all over you, as if forcing you to take him in an alley wasn’t enough on its own.

His breath against your ear was hot and strained, each meeting of your hips to his accentuated with a little grunt from him.  It didn’t help at all that his fingers were rubbing you just right, with so much skill that you wondered if he’d somehow figured out how you touched yourself when you needed to get off.  Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him to have spied on you before, even if you couldn’t figure out when or how.

The hand that used to cover your mouth slid up under your shirt and pulled your bra down, a large, rough hand groping each breast and pinching your nipples until you bit down on your lip to stay quiet.  For all the mocking and teasing he’d done before, he was pretty direct now— like he was trying to make you come as fast as possible, overloading your body with sensation.  

And did he have to be so fucking good at it?

“I know you’re close, babygirl,” he whispered in your ear, “just let go…”

“Jake, please,” you sobbed, too far gone to appreciate that no begging would make him stop now.

“Come for me,” he demanded roughly, fucking you even faster as he sucked a mark onto your neck, and finally it all came crashing down with a choked-out cry of his name and a gush of warmth dripping out around his length.

“Ohh fuck, there you go, fuck it feels good when you come for me,” he grunted, thrusting even faster.  “You’re gonna milk my cock with that pretty pussy, babygirl— you’re gonna make me come…”

“J-Jake, not inside!” you interjected, getting his hand back over your mouth in return.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, “waited too long for this to pull out now.  Feels too fucking good.”

Behind his hand, the difference between whines of hatred and moans of pleasure was irritatingly subtle.

“I love you,” he reminded you in a voice exhausted yet heavy with desire, “so fucking much…”

A few more erratic, brutal thrusts accompanied by heavy pants and he was gone; you could feel his cock pulsing with each rope of come that filled you, so deep that your head fell dejectedly with the realization you had no hope of washing it out now.

His hand fell from your mouth but he didn’t pull out for another few moments as he caught his breath, gently peppering your neck and cheek in slow kisses.  “Baby,” he finally sighed, breaking the crushing silence, “you’re so fucking perfect.  I knew you were made for me.”

I hate you, you wanted to cry out, but words escaped you as he hugged you tightly and pulled your panties back into place, soaking them with his come as it leaked out of you just like he’d promised.  He stuffed his cock back into his jeans and helped you adjust your clothes back to looking almost presentable, finishing it off by turning you around and smiling at you with serene pride before kissing your forehead.

"You're gonna make such a beautiful prom queen," he cooed, “especially if you’ve already got a nice little bump showing…”

His hand rubbed beneath your belly button for emphasis, making you whimper and force your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Shh, don’t cry, baby,” he soothed, kissing your cheek softly.  “Trust me, you're gonna love being my girl."

[phoenixyfriend]

Uncle Ben and Little Luke

AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go

EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry

So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.

So, here’s how it plays out:

We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.

We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.

Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.

Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.

Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.

Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.

Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.

Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.

He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.

So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???

Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.

(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)

Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.

Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.

He is not fine.

Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.

The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”

Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.

(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)

(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)

At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.

Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”

Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.

Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.

“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”

“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”

“Yes, but the gloves--”

They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.

Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...

They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.

Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.

(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)

The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.

Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.

Luke cannot get him to restart.

People are staring.

They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.

Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?

Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”

(Ben will not appreciate this.)

(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)

(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)

Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.

There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.

They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.

“How would I know? I’m six.”

They agree that this is a good excuse.

(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)

They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”

The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.

The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”

The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.

“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.

They ask Luke.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.

“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.

“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”

They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.

Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”

“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.

Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.

(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.

It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.

He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.

“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”

“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s pretty easy to explain.”

“It’s not my secret.”

“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”

“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”

This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.

“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”

“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”

“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.

“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”

“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”

“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”

Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”

After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.

(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)

[millers-planet]

The Vice and the Virtue - Part Two

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader (later established as F following more parts)

A/N: this isn’t my best work. i don’t entirely know where to take this series, ngl.

POV: Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Use of “Y/N”. Angst. Brief desc of gore.

Words: 2.1k

Description: How does one live a life of virtue when past vices begin arising after a successful jailbreak with untied ends?

part one

“Are you serious?” I can’t believe he’s doing this. The second he gets back, too. It makes me question the real value of me to him, if my presence is of any substantial worth. I know that he thinks higher of me, but right now I’m having a hard time believing that.

He sighed and looks back to me, away from him new buddies, “you know why I have to go. I already explained this.” By this point, he’s talking to me as if I am a child, and I am having none of it. 

“I know why you’re going and I get that, it’s not what I have a problem with. You aren’t letting me come with you.” I tried to take a step to him, but he backed away, really emphasizing my doubt. “Fine. You left once and didn’t come back for 5 plus years, I’m sorry I don’t want to sit here and wonder when you’re gonna be back again or wonder if I’m going to have to finally move on.” I really didn’t want to have to pull this card, especially in front of his friends, but I will be damned before he walks out that door without me. 

Zemo dropped his bags and closed the gap between us, putting his hands on cheeks, knowing it comforts me. “You’re right,” his voice got softer and more warm, “I didn’t think of it that way when I probably should of. I was only wrapped up in the possibility of you getting hurt.” He placed a small kiss on my forehead and nodded towards out bedroom, “you should go pack, and quickly.”

With a furrow of my eyebrows and pushing my lips into a frown, I snarkily replied, “you do realize I was listening to your conversations last night? I already have a bag packed.” With a quick rush, I grabbed my bag that was resting on the edge of the bed. 

As everyone was checking their rooms to make sure they grabbed everything, or clarifying one thing or another, Bucky walked up to me. “If you want, I can carry your bag for you, you keep adjusting your shoulder strap.” 

With a small smile, I handed him my bag. “Thank you, I really appreciate that.” For some reason, I was thinking previously that Bucky was a middle ground of Zemo and Sam, sarcastic and a little cold, but he seems really sweet. It makes me think that chivalry isn’t completely dead.

Taking a seat next to Zemo on the plane, with Bucky and Sam sitting across from us, the deafening engines began, only muffled as the door sealed itself shut. I don’t remember the last time I was on a plane, let alone on one with him. We used to go quite often on little vacations, dates, or getaways, but stopped once he got busy with ‘work’. Either way, it was nice to be back on one with him, despite the circumstances.

Sam and Bucky looked very uncomfortable, taken aback when people came and served us nearly whatever we wanted. Bucky gave me worried glances when people came up to him and asked him strange questions, to which I helped him out. Zemo and I, on the complete opposite spectrum, got right at home. 

A watched him pull out a small book inside another, one that I didn’t recognize. “I’m fascinated by this, I don’t know what to call it but this part seems to be important. Who is... Nakajima?” Before I could question anything, everything switched around. Sam was reaching out, Bucky was lashing forward, and Zemo had a hand around his throat. 

With a small mumble, Bucky spoke, “if you touch that again I’ll kill you,” and returned swiftly to his seat. Everything fell quiet and tense, with Zemo glaring at Bucky and him staring at the window, plus Sam just eyeing the two of them. I pulled my knees up to my chest and tried to ignore the rest of the conversation.

All I heard were conversations about Steve, ice, and writing stuff down in the notebook. 

“I like 40′s music.” Bucky’s voice was irritated and drained of emotion.

That was, until, I chimed in with “what do you think about Sinatra?”

Bucky shrugged, “A little past my time. I was too busy being brainwashed to really get into him. Have you listened to anything by Nat King Cole?”

I instantly lit up, it was so nice being able to talk to someone about something light-hearted. “Only a few songs, but they were really good.”

“So, you didn’t like Marvin Gaye?”

“I liked it, Sam.” Bucky just responded emptily back to him

“It’s a masterpiece, James-” Zemo began shortly, until I interrupted

“-It’s complete, comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.”

Same looked a the two of us. “He’s out of line, and she’s just smart, but they’re both right. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky kept the dead tone, “I already said I liked Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

From there, the three of them went on about Steve. I knew brief things about him but I was never caught up in the superhero world. All I understood was that his name was Steve Rogers and that he is Captain America, a super soldier, who was besties with Sam and Bucky.  Other than that, I didn’t really care about this Steve guy or the Avengers in general, it doesn’t sit right with me knowing the conflicts Zemo has had with them.

It was slightly cool out with the rain just about to pass through, along with the open bridge and river allowing for more cool air to travel. Changing out of a t-shirt and jeans into a thin-ass top with matching black thin-ass leggings made the air seem ten times as cold. 

I walked in between Sam and Zemo, wrapped up in his heavy coat and arm loosely wrapped around my waist. “Only an American would think a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp, you’re fitting in nicely with your alias,” Zemo’s hand dropped from me and handed his phone to Sam. “A sophisticated man nicknamed the Smiling Tiger.”

Sam just sighed. “He even has a bad nickname. But,” he looked closer at the phone, “he sure does look like me.” Zemo took the phone back and returned his arm around me. “Is that acid?”

“Madripoor.” His voice became clearer and dropped. “Whatever you do, we must stay in character, there is no margin for error, our lives depend on it. Over there is High Town, not a bad place if you want to visit. Low Town is the other way.”

“Let me guess, we don’t have any friends in High Town?” 

I stopped dead in my track as the car came forward. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Everyone turned to stare at me. “Look at that car, who the hell is sitting in the middle of the backseat, I know for damn sure it isn’t me.” I walked forward and sat in one of the window seats in the back as Zemo chuckled and got in the front.

Sam and Bucky exchanged nervous glances, until they began shoving each other like from the other day. As the back door opened, I raised my voice to them, “HEY! If you guys want to fight over middle seat, play rock, paper, scissors. I’m not gonna deal with the two of you bickering the whole time. Best out of three, on ‘shoot’.”

They mumbled the saying each time. First, Sam won. Second, Bucky. Third, Bucky again.

Sam groaned like a child, “Man! I hate this.”

I was hyper-aware of everything going on. Specifically, how many people were staring at me. It was just me with three other men going into a bar full of other men and few women. It’s suffice to say I was uncomfortable, especially since Zemo took his jacket back, so I couldn’t hide away into it. But the quiet mumbles of “is that the Winter Soldier?” put my mind slightly at ease.

The bartender looked taken aback by Sam’s approach. “I wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

Zemo entered quickly, “his plans changed. We have business to do... with Selby.”

“The usual?” Sam replied with a small nod, only to regret it--in his eyes--once everyone saw the eel come out. I had to cover my hands with my mouth to not gag as he took the shot, only for a disapproving look to follow from the bartender.

A hand was place on my shoulder and I instinctively turned around, Zemo following quickly. It was some strange man, “got word from on high, you ain’t welcome here.

“I have no business with the Power Broker. But, if he insists, he can come talk to me or...” he motion to Bucky, “bring Selby for a chat.” The man then took that as his cue to leave.

I turned around, back to the bar, and pushed myself closer to Zemo. “When can we get out of here? When can we meet Selby?”

“Soon,” he muttered, until a hand was placed on his shoulder this time, leading to a glance back to Bucky and a command in Russian.

Buckys metal hand met the stranger, throwing him into the ground. Other followed to him quickly, but the ‘Winter Soldier’ took them out without drop of sweat. Following a broken table and someone being kicked into it, another guy walked up next to us, which seemed like a problem until Zemo pushed him to Bucky, who took care of him. His metal arm wrapped around the throat of another, pushing him into the bar, the sound of guns cocking filling the silence.

“Selby will see you now.”

“You’re taller than I heard, Smiling Tiger,” Selby  slowly raised her eyes up to Sam, who kept his face stiff and only spared her a look for a second. She rolled her tongue and focused herself onto me, as I stood behind Zemo’s chair. “You, I don’t think I’ve seen or heard of you. Come here! Take a seat,” she patted the oddly patterned couch as smiled crookedly up at me. As soon as I sat down she pulled me close and let my hair fall into her hand, “I don’t know how he got you to on his hip, what does he pay you?” Her voice was just a loud enough whisper to let everyone interpret, intentionally.

Zemo cleared his throat and stood up, “perhaps we should get back to the deal. I will give you the Winter Soldier,” he motioned to Bucky who kept his face straight, “along with the words to operate him, of course. Only, if you give me information I desire.”

She laughed and let me go, “that’s the Zemo I remember, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.” Selby shifted more to him and let her head fall into her hand. “The serum is in Madripoor, with Doctor Nagel you can thank or condemn. He was making it for the Power Broker until things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” 

“Aww,” she stood up and slowly inched her way toward Zemo. “The bread crumbs you can have for free but the bakery is going to cost you, Baron. And don’t think you can find Nagel without me, either.” Selby opened her mouth to speak, until a phone buzzing interrupted her.

Everyone’s face dropped, except for Selby, who’s lit up with excitement. “Go on, answer it... on speaker.” Zemo’s eyes met mine, when he carefully mouthed, “it’ll be fine.”

“Hello?” Sam forced himself cool, maintaining a flat voice.

“Hey so this situation has got me thinking, about the boat and the bank.” It was a feminine voice on the other end of the phone.

“Ah, the bank.. we laundered so much money.” He glanced around and was clearly anxious by this point. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out Big Time?” Sam’s face dropped to the cool look again, realizing the other person caught onto the gig, until the phone erupted with, “hey! What did I say about those Cheerios? Sam, I’ll call you back.”

Selby furrowed her eyebrows together and glanced around the room. “Who is Sam? Kill them-” her sentence ended as a bullet puncture through her and body collapsed on the floor. The two standing men were taken out by Bucky and Sam, as Zemo ran to me. 

My hand flew over my mouth as I stared at the body. “Is she? She was just-” I quickly started hyperventilating, it was so sudden and I’ve never watched someone die before. “Zemo, she’s dead, oh my god.”

He pulled me into his chest and stood me up, hold me tightly and leading us toward the door. “It will be alright, just focus on me.” He stopped and looked around the room, trying to figure out the plan. “Leave your weapons and follow my lead, we have a real problem now.”

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[luckspren]

So i watched the entire season in one go (so spoilers ahead!) and it really exceeded my expectations. I was highkey worried about the last season only having 8 episodes to wrap everything up, but with the time constraints they had, they really did a phenomenal job.

Obviously a lot of the storylines could have used more time to unfold their full potential, like the robot plot, Players time in school and especially brainwashed Carmen and when I think about the season more I could probably find things to nitpick. But I still can’t believe how happy I am with the season as a whole.

Maybe I’m biased because as a Gray and Red Crackle fan this season was just an emotional rollercoaster. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but Gray got so much more screentime than I expected. Right from the beginning i was just sitting there trying to process all the information we got. Calloway?? Orphan? What! The scene between him and Carmen when he finally has all his memories back. Uuuugh be still my heart!!

Also I will never ever get over the fact that Grahams feelings for Carmen and his need to give her her free will back (because he knows the real Carmen would never do those things or forgive herself for them), even at the expense of his own freedom and safety, are the catalyst for VILEs downfall. I’m still crying, god!

And even though I can appreciate the parallel between Camens decision not to meet up with him in season 1 as to not complicate his life and Gray deciding the same thing in the finale, I really needed one last scene between them after everything that went down. Even if it was just something short like her standing in the doorway of his hospital room and them making eye contact or something. But I guess that is what fanfiction is for ;)

In general though I do like how they left many things kind of open. They defnitely left enough space for fans to fill in the missing pieces how they like, no matter which ship or character you prefer.

Also I finally got the Chase/Julia team-up of my dreams, even if I had to wait for the final season to finally get it. Chase seeking her out, listening to her, telling everyone how smart Julia is and praising her on TV, that was all long overdue and makes me so happy. They’re so soft.

As a sidenote I felt kind of bad for Coach Brunt when Maelstrom basically left her for dead without batting an eye, because it feels like she really sees VILE as family more so than the rest of the faculty. Makes me wonder about their backstories.

Shadowsan thankfully survived the season and it’s just really fitting that he is the one that breaks through to Carmen in the end by showing her the nesting doll.

Jeantonio evading jail and managing a food truck together? It’s what they deserve. I do feel bad for Tigress though.

[writtenbynath]

The henchman

Because we couldn't really play at Charmed, I wrote about a scene we might have had. If you like this story and want to see more, please consider supporting me on Patreon.

With a click of the lock, he let us into his hotel room. As he walked into the room to turn on the lights and close the curtains, I pushed her up against the wall to kiss her. She answered enthusiastically by groping my breasts and ass through my dress. She was delicious in every way, her full lips, her hands all over me, the happy giggle that came with every move I made to press her against the wall and grind against her. Then I noticed him standing in the middle of the room looking at us.

"You don't mind, do you?" I grinned at him and she giggled.

He smiled warmly. "As wonderful as you two are to watch, we did have a plan I'm eager to get to." He walked over to the closet and started to take out the things we would need for our plan.

With a nod and a smile, I backed away so she could walk into the room. "There will be time for me to ravish you later…"

She kicked off her shoes, went over to the bed and laid down to give us space to make preparations. I leaned against the wall for a moment, just staring at her, I had never told her this, but she reminded me of that girl I knew back in college. The reason I knew for certain that I am bi, despite all the erasure and preconceptions life threw at me. Sure, I like guys, I like people well enough and I think beauty is more than just skin deep. But oh my… She was my type. She was the prettiest, cutest woman I had ever laid hands on. 

I took a deep breath and turned to watch him start to take off his clothes and get ready to put on the latex bodysuit. A bottle of lube stood ready to help him. For a moment, I was overcome by how he had welcomed me into this whole situation, I felt so honoured that he wanted to do this with me, that he had cast me in this role. When I first met him, I had admired how suave and debonair he was from afar, looking up at him as an accomplished kinkster, much moreso than I. And now, here I was…

I turned to look in the mirror beside the closet. "Do I need to change?" I asked.

"I wouldn't mind... if you want…." She giggled as she lay on her chest, showing off her cleavage and wiggling her bare feet up in the air. She was shy to flirt with me, but I appreciated the effort.

He glanced at me as he was putting on the latex. "I really like the dress. Maybe lose the fluffy shrug and put your hair up to make it more stern?"

"Good thinking." I hung the shrug on the coat rack by the door and got a hairtie out of my handbag to put my hair up into a tight bun.

"You should both know that I'm actually a terrible wimp who doesn't want to hurt anyone." I said as I did my hair. "I'm going to rely heavily on you to let me know that you're still enjoying what we're doing, or I won't dare to go on." I turned to give him a meaningful look as I referenced something we had previously done together. "You know how I move forward very carefully and look for signs that you want to keep going."

He nodded as he carefully pulled his arms through the tight latex sleeves. "And you know that I will find ways to signal 'green' to you."

"I probably can't even hide how much I'm enjoying the struggle." She supported her head with her hands as she lay on the bed. "The meaner you are, the more I'll like it." She blushed and hid her face in her hands.

I cleared my throat. "I also want you both to know that any suggestions or triggers I give you will only last until this scene ends and we leave the room again. This is a fantasy."

She nodded at me. "Of course."

"No worries." He managed to smile at me again, even though he was busy pulling the suit up around his shoulders and making sure the elbows were in the right place.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom and touch up my makeup. When I returned looking all smooth and pale again, she was helping him close the zipper of the bodysuit. He was all glistening blackness now with his strong shoulders and his V-shaped body. He put on the hood with the shiny gasmask and asked in a muffled voice: "Where do you want me?"

I moved in to embrace him and grab his ass, running my hands over the slick surface of the suit. "I want you right here." I moaned playfully.

She gasped, watching us with excited eyes as she sat back down on the bed.

He stood up straight as I groped him, trying to remain still, but I could feel a bulge starting to grow under the suit against my hip. I took pleasure in that for a moment, but I realised that they were both being so quiet because they were ready to begin. It was my move now.

I looked around the room for things I could use and I noticed the mirror on the wall next to the closet. I let go of him, stepped aside and slapped him on the ass with a playful grin. "Get the chair and place it facing the mirror. I want you to sit there looking at yourself."

He did exactly as I asked, his movements stiff and slow, but I couldn't tell whether that was because he was getting into character or because the suit was restrictive. When he sat down, I leaned against the closet so he could probably see me from the corner of his eyes, while he was looking ahead into the mirror. Truth be told, I couldn't see his face under the shiny black mask at all, but he had assured me previously that his vision was great in this mask.

"As you look at the drone in front of you…" I found my softer, deeper hypnotist voice as I started to build the fantasy. "I want you to imagine the brainwashing facility, where there are rows upon rows of faceless drones like this. Sitting still while the gas that flows through the masks subdues them into an open, suggestible state. So that the recording that plays through the headphones they're wearing can blank their minds, take away their will and mold them into mindless, obedient drones."

I glanced at her as she sat on the bed, watching and listening, quietly but visibly excited by the scene I was describing. And perhaps by the sound of my voice too.

"I want you to remember how you sat there in that facility," I continued to him. "So still and warm, encased in shiny slickness. Inhaling the gas with every breath. Feeling yourself become more and more mindless and obedient with every word that reverberates in your empty head. Resistance is futile. None of the other drones have managed it, so why would you be able to? The gas makes you compliant, that's just how it works on a hormonal level in your body, no matter how much willpower you might have had when this all began. You don't remember how long ago. Your will is gone now. You are just a drone in my army, obedient to me. Brainwashed to help me subdue and recruit more people. And every order you obey just emphasises how mindless and compliant you are."

I watched him sit there for a moment, the image of long rows of identical shiny, black suits lingering on my mind as well. I couldn't resist running my fingers over the smooth black surface again, so I touched his shoulder. And then I forcefully grabbed the back of his neck. 

"Drone six. Get up." I commanded him as I stood behind the chair.

He immediately stood up from the chair, his back straight, his shiny mask blank.

"Put the chair in the corner." I ordered, pointing.

There was a pronounced robotic quality to his movements as he lifted up the chair and walked towards the door of the hotel room to set it down there.

"And lock the door, drone." The cold, commanding tone in my voice contrasted with the way I casually walked over to the other side of the room. I locked eyes with her, still sitting on the bed. "So she can't escape."

She gasped. It was her move now. She looked at me, standing near the window, and then at him, blocking the door with the chair and locking it with a loud click. She glanced at the bathroom door, probably wondering if she could reach it and hide in there.

"Seize her!" I commanded.

The drone spun around and launched towards her, catching her just as she reached the edge of the bed. The struggle was violent but quick. He pinned her arms behind her back and held them there with one hand, holding her tightly around the waist with the other arm.

I stepped into the open space at the foot of the bed and beckoned him. "Bring her here." 

His footsteps stomped on the carpet as he pushed her towards me. She squirmed weakly in his grip, making delicious high-pitched noises. As she got closer to me, she lowered her head to look down at her feet. He was much taller and he just lifted her up with every other heavy step, as he brought her towards me. 

I stepped in and grasped her by the neck and chin to lift her head up. "Look at me."

Her eyes were large and full of doubt. Did she want to look at me? The memory of being hypnotised by staring into my eyes in a previous encounter was still fresh in her mind. Or was she afraid to look at me? Afraid that I would take away her will and her mind and make her into a mindless drone as well? She bit her lip and I could feel her swallow under my hand.

I remembered how she hand assured me that meaner would be better. And I noticed how the drone nodded at me and pushed her forward into my grip. So I gripped her chin more firmly, letting some of my fingers squeeze the soft skin of her throat. "You cannot escape." I let my voice drop to a whisper. "You could struggle, in theory. But that would only take time. I will overpower your mind, just like my drone has overpowered you physically. In a direct battle of your will against mine, you know that you're losing. Losing control. Losing the will to fight me…"

There was a change in her eyes. They could no longer focus on me, and the eyelids with the sparkly makeup started to droop. Her lips parted with an inaudible gasp.

"So you surrender." I concluded as I pulled her head down until it flopped forward and her eyes closed. I felt a rush of power; I was in control.

As she slumped in his arms, the drone shifted on his feet, but somehow despite the glossy black mask I could tell that was not just about shifting her weight in his arms. He was enjoying this too.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against her cheek as I whispered in her ear. "You are helpless against my power. And I just want to toy with you right now. Even when you wake up in a moment, you'll find that you're so open to my suggestions, everything I say becomes real to you. You can squirm and struggle and feel ashamed that your helplessness is turning you on, and all of that. But you are my plaything now." I kissed her cheek. She smelled so delicious that I trailed little kisses to her lips and I gently cupped her jaw to give her a long, hot kiss.

Even though her eyes were closed and her mind was open, she was such a wonderful kisser. Her lips moved, her tongue touched mine and she moaned softly. When I finally retreated, she lifted up her face towards me wit a moan full of yearning.

I gave my henchman a mischievous look to let him know something was coming. And then I aimed carefully and slapped her on the cheek. "Wake up!"

He braced accordingly and held her tightly so she could hardly jolt and stumble from the shock. She did however squeal delightfully, and she gave me a priceless look of shock.

"There you are, my plaything." I chuckled and lazily reclined on the bed.

"Let me go!" She struggled in his arms and he didn't even move an inch. The mask was blank and emotionless but in the crotch of the suit I could spy that bulge that told me he was happy.

I smiled benevolently. "You want him to release you?"

She strained and tried to wiggle out of his grip. "Yes!"

With a nonchalant gesture, I snapped my fingers. "Release her. And stand to attention."

Immediately, he let her go. He took one step away from her as she hugged herself, and then he put his hands behind his back and raised his chin up as if he were looking at the ceiling fan above the bed.

She stood there for a moment, stretching after being held so tightly for so long. 

"You're not sure what to do now, are you my plaything?" I noticed how my voice turned into an amused sing-song, and I leaned into that. "Are you confused?"

"I eh…" She looked around the room, as if looking for answers. "I guess…" Her eyes rested on the drone in the shiny black suit and it gave me an idea.

"Do you recognise him?" I asked as I scooted towards the edge of the bed. "He used to be your lover before he became my mindless drone."

He flinched. It was hard to tell what it meant exactly, but his breathing became more visible, his shoulders rising and falling a little faster than before. He made an effort to not move, but something was definitely going on behind that glossy black surface.

She stared at him, and tentatively reached out to him with her hand. "Can you hear me?"

I chuckled. "Of course he can hear you. The drone is fully functional. He just doesn't remember you, nor does he feel anything. He has been brainwashed to be obedient and compliant." I fell into my hypnotist voice, to help him feel more like a mindless drone. "Turn towards her, drone. You can see her, you can hear her. But her words mean nothing to you. The only thing you understand are my commands. Remember the mantras that echoed in your empty head. You must obey."

With two heavy steps, he turned towards her. His shoulders were straight and his arms were rigid. His chin was still up, as if he was looking over the top of her head into the distance.

Her hand touched his chest, ever so slightly pressing into the smooth black surface. "Don't you remember me?" She looked up at him, almost pleading.

"Push her away, drone." I grinned as I watched them.

His strong arms mercilessly pushed her away and it turned into another struggle. He remained rigid and robotic while she passionately fought to touch him, proclaiming her love for him, begging him to listen to her. After shoving her away a few times, he resolved the situation by grabbing her in another tight hold, one hand around her wrists, and his other hand holding her by the hair on the back of her head. It was a weakness we both knew about her; if you grabbed her by the hair she melted in your hands. She stared up at the glossy black surface of the mask as if her gaze might pierce it, and it gave me another idea.

I had been watching them with baited breath, biting my lip, but this was the perfect moment for me to speak. "Well done, drone." I couldn't help that my hypnotist voice turned sultry and smouldering, they were turning me on so much. "You've got her in the right grip for the brainwashing unit in your hand to connect to her brain."

Her eyes grew large and she squirmed, trying to move her head. His grip was strong however, and her renewed struggle only resulted in a tremble and a shake.

I got up from the bed to touch her and bring my voice closer to her ears, knowing that would help with the suggestions. "As the unit connects to your nervous system, you might feel an electric jolt that travels down through your spine to your crotch. It's an unfortunate side-effect that can't be helped."

She gasped, shuddering in his grip. To my surprise, the drone moved too. His breathing quickened and there was a jerk in his hips.

"But as we developed the technique more over time, we've found that the arousal that grows in the subject actually helps the brainwashing take hold. It's very hard to resist something that feels so good, isn't it?" I hovered around her, keeping a close eye on both of them. "Feel how the connection is made in the back of your head, and the current travels through your body, washing away your resistance. Look at him, so mindless and empty. He couldn't fight it, and neither can you. You'll end up just like him as you feel my control creep into your head."

She swayed in his grip, her eyes glossing over as she stared up at the shiny surface of the mask. He let go of her wrists and her arms fell limply to her sides. Her shivering body slumped a little, as if the only thing holding her up was the strong hand on the back of her head.

I groped her breasts, trying to find and tweak her nipples through her shirt, as I continued to narrate the fantasy. "We haven't worked out why or how the brainwashing causes this strong arousal, but we've noticed that when the brainwashing unit in a drone's hand is activated to turn a new subject, both the subject and the drone suffer from it. As my power travels through your body and takes hold of your neural pathways, it fills you with sexual pleasure. If you are feeling any pleasure at the moment, that means you are under my control. And as the pleasure builds and grows inside you, it washes away your thoughts, making you more mindless and obedient."

Her eyes rolled up into her head and her lips parted as she moaned. Meanwhile, he bucked his hips and the bulge under his suit twitched and moved as his breathing became more laboured, making his shoulders rise and fall more quickly.

I licked my lips at this delicious scene I had crafted. "The pleasure is an essential part of the process now. The more you submit to this arousal, the faster it will take hold of you, the more helpless and compliant you become, and when you eventually come, that means the process is complete and you are my mindless drone. So you want to surrender to it, don't you?"

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟐)

part one

hi everyone, thank you sososososooooo much for all the outreach, i really appreciate it!!! i may be making a second taglist, so look out for that if you didn’t get a chance to be added to the first one (tumblr has a tag limit but there r ways to work around it, that’s why i had a limit as well!!)

thank u for reading!! stay safe <3

taglist is closed!

playlist

word count: 7.3k

warnings: age gap, sex work, smut, dirty talk 

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

    Steve had never slept so well. He woke up that morning feeling like a brand new person. Rather than obsess over the meticulous, filthy details of the chat, which he knew would make him squirm now that he wasn't in the moment, he recalled the pleasure he felt and the relief he felt when he had finished. He thought about the connection he had made with you, how much he wanted to talk to you again, wanted to try another private session.

    But of course he thought about the sexual aspect of it. How could he not? He had cyber sex with a stranger, a stranger who made him come twice in the span of half an hour. A stranger who he was incredibly attracted to, both physically and personality wise. He found it hard to grasp that you were so comfortable revealing yourself in such an intimate way to strangers online, especially the way you had last night.

     And he admired it, even though it was so new to him. Because surprisingly, although he was the Captain America, quite literally the face of America, he could never be as bold as you -- sure, he had shared himself with you, but he was in his comfort zone and this was new to him.

        You on the other hand, shared yourself with thousands of strangers every night. Morally, he wanted to question it - he grew up in a very conservative time period. But he couldn't, because he had taken part in it and he had so much respect for what you did... it took courage. He understood the whole female liberation thing and the fact that you were taking control of your own body. So, he loved this for you, and for everyone else who did this kind of work.

    So the morning after that rare night, he found himself thinking only of you. In the shower, while he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, he got flashbacks to the way your robe opened as you slowly revealed your body. He felt himself get hard again, though this time he could find temporary release with just his hands, pumping himself to quick and easy release in the heat of his hot shower, throwing his head back and picturing your lips replacing his hands as he shut his eyes.

      At briefings that morning, everyone noticed Steve's change in spirit. He was less antsy, less to himself. He even smiled a few times, even looked better, like he had actually slept. It was like a few months worth of stress and an urge for intimacy had been lifted off his shoulders.

    "You look great Steve. Did you take my advice?" Tony asked after the briefing was over.

By the look on Tony's face, he already knew the answer to that question. Of course he hadn't heard Steve, the walls were soundproof (and for good reason, because if they weren't, he probably would've disturbed the whole tower), but he could sense it in how different he was acting.

    "What advice?" Natasha looked over her shoulder, curious to know.

    "Oh nothing, just guy stuff," Tony flipped his hand dismissively, and Natasha raised her brows,

    "Do I even wanna know?"

Before Steve could answer, his cheeks getting red at the idea of getting found out, Tony replied with quickness,

    "Last time I checked, I was just talking to Steve."

    "Carry on with your very important, top secret conversation," Natasha joked, narrowing her eyes curiously at Steve and Tony before leaving the room.

    "So. How was it?" Tony grinned, leaning in excitedly as he propped his legs up on the table.

     Steve went silent for a few moments, a serious look on his face before he broke out into a relaxed grin,

    "Honestly? It was amazing."

    Tony slammed his hand down on the table in victory, a big grin taking over his features,

    "Yes! That's what I'm talking about! I was hoping you'd enjoy it. I thought you might be a little prudish about it."

    Steve ignored the offhand comment and just chose to focus on the positive, nodding slowly and folding his arms over his chest,

    "I gotta thank you Stark. It definitely wasn't something I'd expect to be my thing, but I guess you learn something new about yourself everyday."

Steve surprised himself with that comment. Stark was actually right. Steve would've never in a million years thought he could be someone that would take part in anything revolving around cam girls, much less the action of masturbating with someone he hardly knew. He didn't even know it was a thing to begin with. He was both shocked, and a little anticipatory to see that he was actually learning new things about himself. He didn't expect that from him.

    "My pleasure Steve, I take pride in my work," Tony replied, referring to his "therapy." A beat passed, and Tony exchanged an expectant look with Steve, who replied with a confused face, eyebrows furrowed together.

    "What?" he asked, and Tony wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

    "You know..."

    "I don't," Steve responded, raising a questioning brow. Tony rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat,

    "The girl, genius. How was she? Who was she? What'd you do? All the details, my friend."

    Steve gulped. He had been thinking of you all morning, but he hadn't spoken about you yet, and he was kind of glad he had someone to share the details with. Out of respect for you, he didn't want to get too descriptive, but he would at least share his feelings about you.

    "Well, she was real sweet. Calls herself Moonrose Haze, such a pretty name. She's gorgeous, really enjoys what she does, which I liked about her. I really like her, you know? I think we had a real connection. I've been thinking about her."

    "Yeah well, don't get too attached. You know how that can go," Tony patted Steve's shoulder, and he nodded understandingly.

    Of course he knew that he couldn't get too attached. It could be dangerous for both you and him. For starters, you didn't know who he was for real, and he didn't need you knowing. And because he didn't know you in real life, he didn't want to get hung up on you. He already didn't have time for an actual relationship, bringing the internet into it would be a whole different thing.

    He didn't want to get too sucked into it, he didn't want to be brainwashed into feeling strongly for you before he really knew you. But he didn't feel that way at all right now - right now it was more of a feeling that he was glad to know you, glad to have made the connection he made with you. He liked you, and you were on his mind, but he wasn't obsessed, wasn't unable to think straight. He just felt nice and warm inside, that's all. It wasn't anything serious, not yet.

    "Yeah, I know. It's nothing to be worried about. I'm just glad to have met her, you know? She's so charismatic and hard working, she works two jobs outside of this one. I really like her personality. And we—" Steve cut himself off, starting to blush, unable to hide it on his fair cheeks.

     Tony leaned forward, knowing this would include the gritty details,

   "What?"

    "We..." Steve looked down as to avoid eye contact with Tony, who chased it even while Steve stared down at his shoes. "We - well - she... helped me." Steve cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed to bring up the memories that made his entire body feel as if it were on fire. He continued, "Helped me, you know... (he lowered his voice here) get off."

     "Yowza!" Tony hooted, and Steve's face could never be more red. "Steve, you truly surprise me everyday."

    "It wasn't like anything I've ever experienced before," Steve said, a bit more composed now. "I mean, it was- it was... she was incredible. I know she's a performer, but it felt so real, so intimate. And I think she enjoyed it too."

    "Wait, don't tell me she joined in on the fun," Tony raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised, and Steve's head jerked up as he realized he had sort of revealed more details than he'd meant to.

    "Well, we-" he began stammering, but Tony just cut him off with an impressed smile.

    "My god. I would never expect it from you! Honestly, I'm proud of ya, Cap. You seem to be feeling much better now."

    "I do," Steve answered with finality, and Tony nodded.

    "Glad to see I could be of assistance. You can always come to me for these type of things you know. I've got all kinds of tricks up my sleeve."

Sure he does, Steve thought, watching as Tony walked out of the room. Now he was thinking of you once more - specifically when he would see you again.

                                                                                                                   ✺ ✺ ✺

    You started out your day not so different from Steve. You had great sleep that night, thanks to the powerful orgasm that practically lulled you to sleep, and thanks to meeting Steve. You liked him, too, thought about him with a smile on your face. You were in your apartment, a cheap, shabby apartment which you refurbished to your heart's delight, decorating with new furniture and plants however you could.

    It wasn't the most luxurious space, but at least it was yours. And it was what you could afford living on your own in California, where you were from, and paying partially for your schooling. You made good money as a cam girl, but most of that went towards school and your clothing business. You were a busy woman.

    As you logged on to girlsonfilm.com that morning to check stats and messages, you were met with memories from the night before. It was hot, sure, but you really, really liked Steve. You had lovely connections with some of your customers, but something about Steve was different. He was new, and almost naive, and had a personality you found adorable. He was mature and appropriate, and you liked that about him.

   As always, you were careful. Being a cam girl meant you had to be safe and smart. With Steve, you felt secure enough, but you were always careful with new customers. Once again, it wasn't anything serious... yet. Still, you felt a little lighter on your feet throughout that day.

     You were usually in good spirits, outgoing, determined and smiling, but today you just seemed a bit - lighter. Less worried about certain things like finances or your multiple jobs. It was your best friend, Aaliyah, who noticed the change in your demeanor. She tapped you on the shoulder as you sat in your last class of the day, which was at noon.

    "Yeah?" you asked, turning your head towards her - you had been sort of looking out into the distance beforehand, thinking all those happy thoughts that stemmed from last night with Steve.

    "Earth to YN? What's up with you, you're all... dreamy," Aaliyah hissed urgently, wanting to know everything.

     You laughed, looking down at your desk and bringing your arms together, shrugging your shoulders up and down,

    "Dude, relax. I just had really good sleep, I'm in a good mood."

    "Bitch. I know you're lying, you're my best friend of seven years and you think I can't tell when you're lying? Who has you looking so incredibly happy right now? I need to know so I can threaten them if they ever hurt you!"

     "Okay, the fact that you're already assuming it's a person is amazing," you chuckled, turning to face her, pushing your hair from your eyes.

Aaliyah knew how you felt about relationships - you weren't exactly looking for one as you were so busy to begin with, and you'd had bad experiences in the past. You pretended like they didn't hinder you, but pretending only worked for so long. But Aaliyah was always the first to ask about your relationship life anyway - she wanted to see you with somebody who would treat you right, the way you deserved.

    "Well? Is it?" Aaliyah prodded.

    "No," you shook your head a bit too strongly for Aaliyah to be convinced, and couldn't help but break into laughter at the way she glared at you, eyes narrowed and arms folded across her chest. "Okay, okay. I may or not have done a private session last night."

    "Mhm," Aaliyah lowered her voice - she was the only person who knew of your secret job, and she took your privacy very seriously.

    "Anddd, I may or may not have met a new customer," you continued slowly, Aaliyah repeating her hums. "And, we may or may not have... had sex? I don't know, it was - virtual, completely online."

    "But, you do this often," Aaliyah replied, not understanding the depth of the situation because you often engaged in sexual acts for or with your customers in private sessions.

    "Yes, but this time it was different. I felt like... I dunno, like my whole body was on fire. I felt like I was totally in control, and you know, I'm in control other times, but this guy didn't really know what he wanted, so I took the lead. And it was fucking great, I kid you not, I was shaking afterwards. It all just felt so visceral and so fucking real and so, so hot. And... it felt intimate."

     "Woah, woah, woah, this is sensory overload right now," Aaliyah raised her brows, impressed with the story and with the person you were talking about. "Intimate how?"

    "Like, I just felt really safe and connected with him. I was nervous, I wanted to keep him. I wanted to talk to him again. He was so polite and mature and so... just nice. Oh my god, and he tipped me like, hundreds. He was extremely generous."

    Aaliyah was nodding, even more impressed,

   "That's what I like to hear! What's his name? What'd he look like?"

    "His name's Steve. And, I dunno what he looked like, he had his camera off. Probably some white dude, but honestly he was very handsome sounding. So like, a handsome white dude."

You sensed a shift in Aaliyah's nature, and looked over to her.

     "What?" you whined.

    "This man couldn't even turn his camera on while you were popping pussy for him? Yet y'all had an intimate connection?" she raised her eyebrows, very straightforward.

You pouted,

     "Intimacy doesn't always have to have rules. I get a lot of customers who don't show their face. I'm sure he has his reasons. Besides, it was nice not to have a dick shoved into the camera for once."

The both of you chortled at that, but then Aaliyah went back to business.

   "No camera on? He's married with kids."

    You made a face and frowned, a crease showing up at your forehead,

    "Don't say that! I like him."

     Aaliyah let up a little, because she knew you were being serious, and leaned back in her chair.

    "You like him?" she asked, and you nodded, biting your lip,

    "Yeah."

    "You really like him?"

     You rolled your eyes,

    "Asshole, I don't really like him. I just, think he's cool. And I'm glad we met."

     "Okay, good to hear, 'cuz you don't know him and we don't wanna go too fast, girl. You've got options in real life," Aaliyah concluded, and you nodded,

    "It's nothing serious. I just like him, that's all. And last night was nice, that's why I feel so refreshed today. You don't have to worry about me. This isn't gonna become like the movie Her."

    "Ha," Aaliyah snorted, catching the reference. A beat of silence passed between the two of you, before you broke it suddenly by jerking your head to her to share an urgent detail you didn't want her to miss.

    "He fucking came twice!" you whispered loudly. "In the span of thirty minutes!"

Your eyes were wide and brazen, and your lips were pursed tight. Aaliyah blinked slowly, taking in the information.

    "Oh wow."

    "I know. And his moans, oh my god. And he said his dick size was three fingers long," you held up your hand and cusped the three fingers you had used - ring, middle, and index. "Literally huge!"

      "For your sake I hope it's true, if he's got you this hung up," Aaliyah smirked, and you laughed breathlessly, realizing how intense you had just gotten.

    "My fault. Don't mind me," you returned to your work now that class was getting started, but the two of you were consumed with giggle fits.

                                                           ✺ ✺ ✺

     Steve actually had put you down on his calendar - mentally, at least. He obviously couldn't drop everything just to spend time with you, but the late times of your shows and his current availability made him feel inclined to use his free time to share with you, at least that week. He almost tried to downplay how much he wanted to see you again, how anticipating he was, because it wasn't like him to feel excited, to smile to himself at the thought of anything.

     By the time you went on live again, on a Wednesday night, both you and Steve were filled to the brim with excitement. You wanted to talk again, and Steve wanted to see how you performed on a regular live. So that night, he took a shower, got tucked into bed like he had the last time, and signed on to girlsonfilm.com, which he typed into the browser with jittering hands. He was actually... excited. Something about this was giving him a taste of a feeling that was once rare.

    He typed in your name at the search bar, not even taking a second glance at the other livestreams on the screen (more because he was avoiding looking at so many naked bodies at once). You had already started by the time he came on, and you'd been awaiting his arrival.

    This time, your setup was different. You were in your "office", a small room in your apartment that served as a workspace for your clothing line, a homework/study area, and a place where you could do your work outside of school. But tonight, like many other nights, it operated as your cam room.

     It looked like a strip club, complete with glowing neon lights that shifted colors, an assortment of heels and alcohol bottles behind you, and a disco ball hanging above your head. There was even a sign on the wall behind you that read your name in fancy writing. You leaned forward on your laptop to see who had signed in, a smile reaching your saccharine, glossy lips as the name you were waiting for popped up on screen.

    "Steve!" you cooed girlishly, pushing your hair behind your ear subconsciously - you wanted him to see your face. "How are you?"

Steve, who was figuring out the chatroom, commented below in response, eager to hear your voice. A grin had made its way onto his face at the sound of your excitement to see him.

Steve - GrantRoberts

Hi. I'm great, how are you?

    You bit down on your lip, intoning,

    "Well, better now you're here! Guys, this is Steve, he's new here. Say hi."

     Steve skimmed past the comments from her devoted customers saying hello, and you continued with your show, seeming oodles happier now that Steve was on. You already gave it your all, now you would give your all and more.

Steve didn't even need you to do that much to sate him though - looking at your skimpy outfit was enough. You were dressed in a sheer, glittery white lace corset that highlighted all of your assets, with garters on your silky thighs to match.

    Then you were wearing these insanely long stripper heels, and boy did Steve have a thing for heels- you wearing them made him nearly salivate. Your lips were painted a sultry red and the rest of your makeup was dewy and glittery, with gems and glitter dust stuck to the sides of your eyes.

You looked ethereal, and the lucid background just made things even better. He was already hard upon looking at you, especially when you shimmied up close to the camera and showed your entire body, your hands running up your thighs and sides in slow motion.

    "You guys like my outfit?" you smirked, twirling slowly for the camera. "You know, I love being a dancer, but I get so lonely sometimes. All these guys coming through, but no one to really pleasure me. You know?"

    Steve swallowed hard. You were talking to everyone on the live, but looking directly into the camera, an intense look in your eyes. Tonight you were playing out the recurring strip club fantasy, which lots of your customers enjoyed - Steve was new to the whole thing, but he got the gist and story line right away. How could he not with how intensely he was focusing?

    You laughed a little, a sultry but brief laugh that made shivers run up Steve's spine. Right now, though you were glad Steve was there, you were in full work mode, pulling all the levers. You were focused, and Steve knew that you weren't only occupied with him. But he even liked that, liked your work ethic and your ferocity.

      "I guess I was just wondering if one of you were man enough to take me," you continued, starting to really pile on the dirty talk and the persona.

You kept showing different angles of your body, letting your customers admire you. You turned around, strutting slowly, one leg in front of the other, your heels hitting the ground. Steve's eyes widened at the shape of your ass as you faced the other way, head tilting as he admired your features.

He wasn't the kind of guy to worry about a girl's body type much, and he certainly didn't only focus on your body, but how could he not in this case? You were drawing attention to your every asset, and he was realizing just how much he liked them on you.

    Then you slowly twirled around, facing the camera again and lowering yourself down on your knees.  You pouted softly, as if you were feeling conflicted.

     "But, I haven't seen anyone here who's man enough to take care of me. I have needs too," you sighed, looking down at your nails, which, perfectly, were long and glittery acrylics. "Gosh, and the pay here is lousy. Some guys are so cheap, you wouldn't even believe it."

Kaching. Tokens being added left and right after you said that. You smirked, gazing into the camera for one minute, Steve catching your pixelated gaze, before you kept going. Steve added tokens as well, probably more than all that had been added in that moment. He was impressed by your strategies, and he knew that paying would make things progress.

    "I'm just so lonely and bored sometimes," you slowly removed the straps of your corset, revealing your chest. You ran your hands along the lace that was still over your breasts, licking your bottom lip. "Hmm. But I think I'll need more help to remove my top.

More tokens. More talking, more tokens. And soon enough, you had taken off the corset (garters left on, as per special request from many of your customers), and you were naked in front of the camera. Steve felt himself throbbing beneath his boxers, and stroked his length over the fabric.

    "Wow, you guys are great," you cooed. "And so much better than some of the other guys who come through here. But not good enough. Poor old me, looks like I'll have to pleasure myself, hmm?"

You wiggled your eyebrows up and down as comic relief while you opened and closed your legs very quickly, giving just a peek of what you knew they all wanted to see.

Ashton — asherw9 guyz, she clearly needs help spreading her legs. can we all do better? + 10 tokens

You giggled,

"Thank you Ashton. I really do need help spreading my legs for you, so I can get all nice and ready. So, tokens or bust."

Soon enough, you had them voting on toys to use as you went through an assortment. All of them were glass dildos with different designs. Each vote was a certain amount of tokens, and they eventually came to a consensus. Steve only voted so he could pay you, he had no idea what he actually wanted to see, nor any idea of how dildos differed from one another.

You smiled when you saw that he had voted, raising your brows at the option he had chosen,

     "Steve, you naughty boy. You wanna see me use the biggest one?" Steve blushed— he didn't know any better. But you were smiling, and reading the other options. "It looks like a lot of you wanna see me use the big one. I'll give you like, another minute to decide."

     A flood of votes came in and you read them over, smiling as you held up the biggest option.

     "This one it is!"

And there you were, giving a tease show as you danced sensually on the floor, wrapping your body around as you removed the bottom half of the corset. Soon enough, your entire body was completely revealed and you were spreading your legs open, your fingers dancing along your clit as you prepared yourself. Soft but sultry music played in the background, but all Steve could hear was the sound of your progressing pants and moans, which were soft and quiet.

     He had his hand wrapped around himself, finally out of his boxers, and he was stroking at the same pace that you were circling your clit with your fingers. He spread the precum peeking out from his tip down his erect length, pumping himself slowly as he watched you. He let out a strangled moan as you diligently slid two fingers inside of yourself, your face contorting as you felt them against your walls, reaching all the right spots.

"I'm so fucking wet," you whined, pumping your fingers in and out faster now. You were even more getting tokens and comments by the minute, Steve being the best contributor as he could with only one hand available.

He felt a hint of shame pang in his chest as he realized what he was doing — pleasuring himself online to someone who was doing the same thing for the hundreds of others watching. But in your case, it was for work. For a moment, he almost felt like a perverted loser, pumping himself to you in the dark — but he bounced back after remembering who he was, and after feeling himself throb inside his hands. He wanted to be able to enjoy himself, he shouldn't make himself feel guilty about it, so long as it was rightfully done.

You sighed loudly as you transitioned from using your fingers to the dildo.

"Guys, this thing is huge," you giggled slightly, but that giggle morphed into a pleasantly surprised moan as you began to slide it inside of you. Your slick arousal coated the toy instantly, making it much easier. Your face said it all, as did the whiny pitch in your voice. "Oh fuck."

Steve couldn't control himself. He came quickly once again, but continued stroking himself as you continued. And once again, his release felt cathartic, like he was filling in something that he had long been missing, and only you could bring him to this point. He couldn't do this himself before, not without you.

He wanted so badly to be in a private room with you, to share this moment with you and only you, where you could hear his voice and he knew the two of you were alone. But he knew this would have to do for now, his hands working his cock as he watched you thrust the dildo in and out, your moans growing louder and less contained.

    You watched the dildo disappear in and out of you, slipping in with ease because of how wet you were. The sounds it made were criminal and arousing, sounds of your slick against your walls. Your mouth fell open in an o-shape as you watched how well you took it despite its size, admiring of yourself and even more turned on, pushing it deep inside of you.

"Fuck, it feels so good, I'm so fucking wet," you whined, biting down hard on your lip, closing your previously ajar mouth.

Steve watched how well you took it with eyes that were glazed over, wishing it was him instead of a glass toy, wishing he could stretch you out and be that deep inside of you. He groaned to himself, mumbling expletives as he felt his orgasm build up.

"Oh my god, I'm close," you groaned some time later. You threw your head back, bringing your hand to your clit to assist your orgasm. You had been going at it for the past fifteen minutes, putting off your orgasms until you couldn't any longer. Steve was mesmerized, fists practically clenched around himself as you brought yourself to climax. "I want you to cum with me," you moaned. "Oh fuck, yes."

Your moans nearly became shouts as you came, toes curling in your six inch heels. You tried to grip the carpet around you, but to no avail, and you found yourself coming recklessly while the dildo was still inside of you, taking it out just moments after your orgasm began.

You were dripping all down your legs and thighs, the spot on the carpet beneath you completely drenched in your arousal. Steve had came again, and again, his cock twitching and spurring at the sight of you. The longer you rode out your high, the longer Steve rode out his — and needless to say, he could keep up.

You took in deep breaths as you got caught up, leaving your legs spread for your viewers' pleasure. As per one request, you lead your fingers to your slick heat, spreading yourself open so everyone could see, a smirk on your face.

     Once Steve had come down, he decided to type something in the chat.

Steve - GrantRogers

Thank you, this was wonderful.

You snorted at Steve's response — always so polite and proper. You closed your legs and crawled up closer to the camera so they could only see your face and your upper half.

    "I hope you guys liked that. I don't think I've ever used that one before, but trust me, I will be using it again. Thanks for the suggestion," you winked. "You can join me next week for a giveaway! I'll be selling my panties, those purple butterfly ones you guys love so much?"

You watched as the comments flooded with praise and excitement, and chuckled,

     "Yeah, those. So check in next week on how to enter, rules and more. I hope you guys enjoyed today, thank you so much for being the most beloved members of my little strip club here. See you later!"

Easily, you blew a kiss to the camera, and ended the show. At first, Steve was a little bummed. He was hoping for another private session, so he could talk to you a little more. But he understood that it wouldn't be today, and started to exit out of the site until he heard a ping! notification. He looked on the upper right corner of the screen to see that he had a new message.

moonrose — moonrosehaze hey! got a minute? click the link in the chat if you do!

Steve slowly clicked the link, hoping that it was what he was expecting and not some type of scam. And luckily, it was — it rerouted him to the same link as last time, giving him the option to hide his video and only use audio. He chose that option and you showed up on screen, in a silk pajama top and shorts, still in the same room as before, just not in the act anymore. Once he saw you, he grinned, and you smiled as well when he joined.

"Hey!" you exclaimed excitedly. "How are you?"

You typically didn't do this - usually customers reached out to you, not the other way around. But just because you weren't offering private sessions tonight didn't mean you couldn't still talk to a client. Especially a client who you happened to really like. And of course, the two of you were being careful, precautions still fresh in your mind. But you were enjoying your time together so far in this excited new beginning. There were no red flags and nothing to be worried about.

Steve laughed, his voice deep and almost cloudy - after coming down from two orgasms he felt dreamlike. His voice was warm and inviting, and you felt that awfully familiar buildup of an orgasm in your stomach, though it wasn't the same. Maybe more like butterflies, except instead of just being nervous, you were both nervous and turned on.

"Hi," he crooned, feeling his cheeks warm up at the sight of you. You were so enchanting and bright, even if you were behind a screen. You had a youthful glow that made you look and feel genuinely happy and vivacious. Even after just a few days, he found himself admiring you, and not just for your sexual prowess. "I'm great, how are you? You were amazing, by the way. That was... I've never seen anything like that before."

You giggled, appreciative of his constant praise, but it raised the question,

"I can't thank you enough. You've watched porn before though, right?"

At first, you thought Steve's innocence was only unique to cam sites, but now you were starting to question just how experienced he really was with this world. He seemed to know how to tip, and tipped very well. As for talking to you, he was charming and polite thus far, so he seemed to know how to interact with women who had jobs like yours - you hoped he was this kind universally, and not just to you. You hoped you knew him, the little bit that he was showing, not just a version of him that he was pretending to be.

Steve shifted a bit, smiling shyly to himself,

"Not really... do I sound that clueless?"

"No," you giggled, shaking your head, but he could tell you were just being coy, which made him smile.

"Be honest," he prodded you, and you laughed louder,

"Yeah, a little. But don't feel bad! That's a first. Usually guys your age are well versed in this sort of thing. It's... kind of sweet. And I like that you're new to this. It makes it easier to get you excited," you veered into flirting with him again, smiling gently into the camera.

"Oh yeah?" Steve questioned playfully, and you nodded.

"Oh, for sure. Listen, I'm really tired from my show so I can't promise anything like what I just did, but if you want me to pose for you or..."

You trailed off, but Steve was quick to jump in, shaking his head. He didn't expect anything from you at the moment, although he wouldn't mind, but if you were tired, then you knew your limits, and he didn't want to push them for his own sake. He knew it was your job, but he still had his own sense of morals.

"No, no, it's okay, hon'. You worked really hard just now, don't feel pressured to do something for me just because. It's nice to just talk to you anyway, you didn't even have to do this," Steve said calmly, and you felt your heart warming more and more with every word he spoke, especially when he called you "hon" — he gave you the energy of such a kind older man.

Of course Steve wanted to see something from you again - of course he'd cherish it, die for it. But he had been sated for the night, and talking to you was enough. Still in the back of his mind he questioned whether he should be talking to you like this at all - it was the second night you had spoken. But he pushed those doubts to the back of his mind for now - not now Steve, not now, he thought.

"Aww, thank you," you pouted out of happiness and appreciation.

    He acknowledged how hard you worked, and the fact that it was hard work. And he didn't have to be so gracious about it, so appreciative and the way he was. You were almost glad he just wanted to talk, even though you would've been willing to at least pose for him or dirty talk him to climax once again. What you'd do to hear his moans and hear his gruff voice in particular.

You continued,

     "I'm... I'm glad you liked the show. I'm glad you came, honestly. I know we've only talked once but I like you. I feel like we connected immediately."

Steve felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest that he brushed off as the typical butterflies that were spreading. He already addressed that this entire thing made him nervous in general, but he didn't think anything more of it.

"We did. Somehow, someway," he chuckled a bit awkwardly, and you smiled at his shy nature. "I'm— I'm really glad I came to. I was looking forward to this."

"So how was your day?"

"Honestly? I've been so much better since the last time. I mean, you really helped out. I feel like..." Steve took a deep sigh. "Like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders, y'know? What about you?"

"I know the feeling. I sort of felt the same way. Huh. Gosh, it's weird, it's not like we're-" you decided not to finish your own sentence, laughing as you brushed it off as silly. "Anyway. Today was great. Yeah."

"Yeah? You uh... take any classes today?" Steve asked, recalling how you told him about your life as a student and as an artist. He cringed internally at how awkward he was being. There was still that spark, but the two of you were both resisting conversation because you didn't want to face the reality of establishing a relationship with each other, even if it was just client to camgirl. It felt more personal. "I'm sorry," he chuckled to himself. "I'm not great with small talk."

"I mean, I'm sure - if I were a scientist, I'd want to be talking about, like, I don't know - nuclear physics. Environmental studies doesn't quite feel like your area of science," you giggled, and Steve remembered (though he hadn't forgotten) how he had passed himself off as a scientist. Maybe more of a scientific experiment, but it couldn't hurt to say he was a scientist, could it? He was surrounded by them after all.

Steve laughed, shaking his head,

"You'd be surprised how much I don't wanna talk about nuclear physics half the time. Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah," you propped yourself up, wanting to know what he wanted to know about you.

"You like this, right? Like, being, well-"

"A cam girl?" you furrowed your brows together and laughed, shaking your head playfully. "You can say it, don't worry, I don't bite. But uh, wow, I guess no one's really ever asked me that on here. I do, actually. I think a lot of girls on here like this job, but I really love it. It feels liberating, which is great. But it also pays my bills. So it's a balance between the two. I can kind of be whoever I want on here."

"So in real life, Moonrose is... not a thing," Steve concluded, and you shifted. "If you don't mind me asking." He just wanted to understand the dynamics of this job, how you worked the ins and outs - almost like an agent. You weren't that different from his colleagues.

Usually you'd be a bit more hesitant to answer such a question, but Steve made you feel comfortable.

"It's perfectly okay. I'm still the same girl, you know? So it's very much a thing, it feels like Moonrose is... a part of me. But it's just not the same way it feels on here, if that makes sense. It's an act, but it's really... just me."

"I like that. And I like that you enjoy your job."

"Now, can I ask you a question?"

A pause, then Steve answered. It couldn't be that bad.

"Sure," he nodded.

"Okay," you bit down on your lip. "What made you choose me?"

      You hated that question - "what made you choose me?" It left a bitter taste in your mouth. So many times, in your relationships in real life, you felt like you had to ask that question to get reassurance. To feel supported. But with Steve, it was obviously different. And right now, asking that question didn't feel so bad. You didn't feel like because he chose you, you were special. You felt like you were special before he even chose you.

Steve grinned,

"Honestly, I had been scrolling for a while, but none of the other girls stood out for me. And I came across you and you were smiling and you seemed happy. You talked to your customers like they were your fans. You just made it look so charming and graceful. It felt genuine."

"Thanks, I try. Well, I'm glad we crossed paths. It's nice talking to you, even if it's not for a private cam. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable, doing this-"

"No, no, not at all. I was hoping I'd get to talk to you too, so."

"Oh," you chuckled— you nearly snorted, pushing your hair back and laughing in tandem with Steve. Your awkward moments together were actually fitting and charming, and didn't feel "awkward" at all. You presented as confident, sexy and seductive Moonrose, but Steve brought out the dork in you, made you feel less like Moonrose and more like YN, in the best way ever. "Cool."

Steve liked this. He reveled in the quiet for a moment, just looking at you, your skin glowing, teeth showing when you smiled, everything about you was evocative. But he looked at the time, realizing he had briefings in the morning.

"Well, unfortunately, it looks like I gotta go. Got... labs in the morning, and stuff."

"Oh, yeah for sure, no, go ahead. Gotta get your sleep."

"You too," he encouraged you, almost like a protective figure. "Get some rest."

"Thanks." You took in a deep breath and took the leap you'd been wanting to take the whole call. You loved talking to Steve, but you had been thinking about what Aaliyah had said. You didn't feel as bothered by it as she had, but you figured it was worth a try. You could see if anything would change. And maybe it wasn't an "appropriate" statement, but you were taking a leap of faith. "Wish I could see you. You know, through your camera?"

At first, Steve's heart dropped. He definitely couldn't commit to that. But he knew it was fine, he didn't have to commit to anything at all. He just chuckled,

"Oh, not this time."

You nodded gently, understanding. It was like you told Aaliyah, plenty of customers didn't use their cameras. But you wished you could see Steve, see the face that matched that enchanting voice and those lovely words.

"I understand. Well, I'll see you... or, hear you, next time?"

"Yeah, doll. See you."

And with that, he ended the session, and closed his laptop. Much to think about. And all of it revolved around you.

ahh how are we feeling!! i made their dialogue a leeetle bit awkward bc i didn’t wanna make it super mushy. it’ll be slow burn but not agonizingly slow jus wait on itttt!!! let me know your reactions!!! tags will be linked in a reblog :)

[pantheon-god-of-war]

I made a post on Twitter and learned that Pantheon x Aphelios is a genuine ship like Aphelios x Sett is? Honestly I only ever cared about 200 years when I kicked his face in while ulting bot. I think his story while tragic is very isolating. So I went back to read through the lore of his again to make sure I remembered everything correctly from the first time I read it back when he was released. 

Now bare in mind I do not ship bash, if you like the ship more power to you, I won’t discourage anyone from shipping what they like. It’s all fiction. That said I will analyze the two of them and see if I can find some common ground from the lore material we have. 

Aphelios and Alune were both children of the Lunari and were heralded to be these great children of destiny for the lunar faith. From a young age they had all this weight thrust upon them to defend the Lunari as fighter and seer. This supposed great destiny, while it turned out to be true is quite brainwashing for young children and incredibly manipulative. It is stated that Aphelios had a very strong and deep connection with his sister which in turn hurt him when she was not there since he likely felt isolated and had severe problems fitting in with others. Its a common phenomenon that certain individuals who have a singular best friend or sibling suffer immensely when that person leaves and they are left to deal with others, much like some of us have most fiends online these days and desperately wait for said friends to get on so they will have company. It even says that without Alune his faith wavered, clearly tying him immensely to her so much that there is a dependency on her closeness that correlates to his effectiveness in combat or even as a functioning human being as it is said that he lost his very purpose. It seems like while Alune firmly believes in the Moon Aphelios believes in her and whatever she stands for, so will he. I don’t want to say Moon Simp here because they are brother and sister but in essence he very much does what she commands, even in game. Its a very unhealthy sort of hyper dependency as without her he just falls apart. 

In this desperation he comes across noctum on a spiritual journey and consumes it only to later understand that he is to live as a conduit for Alunes magic. I like this excerpt out of his story because it highlights the duality and the tragedy of their relationship. 

Only now did they understand their destiny. Aphelios would hollow himself out with pain, but would become a conduit for the moon’s power. Alune would live alone, isolated in her fortress, but she would guide her brother, able to see through his eyes.

While it is tragic it really takes away from his own character. He has no real will of his own at this point, Alune is faithful to the moon and guides him in any way she sees fit as she is the seer, he is merely the earthly vessel for her actions that are in the best interests of the Lunari. 

With Aphelios previously already being quite anti social as he only focuses on Alune this connection should amp it up tenfold. Imagine having the only person you really care about in your head constantly talking to you and telling you what to do so long you are under the painful influence of a harmful substance. It makes him the epitome of a living tool, because he does not speak or feel and because he is hyper fixated on his sister. When you hollow your body out with a poison that numbs you to all sorts of feelings there is really little sense for physical companionship as you have numbed yourself to the point of not being able to speak, with constant pain coursing through you. That is without Aphelios innate antisocial behavior

All and all this paints Aphelios as a silent killer who works alone, gets his missions either from Alune exclusively, or convenes with Lunari elders on what targets need to be eliminated. He very much reminds me of Agent 47, take the job, maximum efficiency, get it done, get the next job. His destiny or purpose is to serve the Lunari and keep them safe and anything that keeps him from achieving his singular purpose is either an obstacle or not worth his time. 

Pantheon is a whole new problem in that he hates everyone on the mountain, to varying degrees but still. His one big defining trait is that he stands up to the gods, aspects and darkin. He renounces the power of the aspects and the gods dominion over Targon and will fight nearly anything to follow his belief. He threatens Aurelion Sol, fights Xerath and generally just howls at every aspect ascended, demi god, or darkin there is. When mom told Atreus to pick his battles he simply said “I’ll pick em all” and off he went kicking everyone ass. 

Pantheons place in Targon is very uncertain. I said this before when he got reworked that this stance against the gods will put him at odds with everyone on Targon. The Solari and Lunari believe in their respective gods, the Rakkor or Targonians all believe in either of those gods or worship other constellations since in Targon this ascended magic is something to aspire too. People look up to the stars, ask them for guidance, read their fate in the stars, trust them and even pilgrim from every corner of the earth to worship and marvel at the gods. Pantheon would be at odds with every single person and while he won’t slaughter everyone I think the canonical thing for Pantheon to do is just leave mount Targon and fight other gods OR actually challenge and kill Leona, Diana Taric and so on. Which would be a very dark but also very possible path. Kill the aspects to show the masses that their gods do not save them and demand exponentially more than they ever return. For that Pantheon would have to end the Lunari and Solari faith and completely reshape the way people on Targon think about the stars, and as much as I love Pantheon I do not see that as something possible, nor do I see him as the kind of man who would force anyone to agree with him. He carries his rage and resentment but he will not force it upon another, rather confront the person responsible and settle it with them (the gods). 

Now Pantheon did fight with the Ra’Horak in his fight against Xerath. Where it was actually the Ra’Horak fighting Xerath before Pantheon arrived. I am guessing that was because the first sun disc was constructed in Nerimazeth and the Solari desired it for some reason, but I am getting off track here. Pantheon helped the Solari warriors, which leads me to believe that perhaps he can exist on Targon in a way. But with the circumstances I think it was more him fighting against Xerath. Since that thing was clearly a godlike entity that he was all but ready to kill. The Solari just happen to be there and he decided to aid the mortals fighting against a god, that does not mean he agrees with their beliefs. 

Had Aphelios fought Xerath, would Pantheon have helped? Sure, probably. I think Pantheon would also help Leona and Diana against Aatrox if they needed his help again. It’s all a matter of hierarchy. Who is the greatest threat and who is a lesser one. So I could see them working together against a greater common foe for sure but more I think not. 

His quote to Aphelios is at first glance more positive, but considering all the underlying character traits I think it is a little darker than what it at first implies. Pantheon knows that it is human destiny to fight for survival and only those strong and brave enough do not shy away from the pain and anguish that decision costs. Pantheon understands Aphelios motivation, why he fights, that does not mean he supports it. 

To Pantheon, Aphelios is a man so zealous and devoted to the moon that he would willingly forsake his humanity, poison himself and suffer for eternity so that he could enact the will of the moon, a god. This is going to really set of Pantheon’s past when the god of war possessed his body, forced him into the back of his own mind only to do what he wanted with Atreus flesh. That is the exact breaking point on why Pantheon and Aphelios will hardly ever see eye to eye. One of them a devoted zealot, willing to surrender it all in service to the moon, the other a warrior who despises the gods and their machinations above all else having once been at the mercy of one of them. With Aphelios added antisocial character I really doubt they would ever exchange much words. Perhaps Pantheon extends an olive branch and tries to get Aphelios to live for himself. But Aphelios would refuse, if no one else could sway him from this singular purpose in life which he has grown up with since his birth, this random warrior won’t be able to sway him either and here the line from Pantheon comes back in as a sort of, “I understand and hail your conviction.” before the fight, where he respects the resolve, but not the reason for it. 

That’s why I don’t think they are quite shippable. The only two people I could really see Aphlios with is either Diana or Taric. Diana only if she embraces her role as leader of the Lunari where she comes to appreciate what Aphelios does for her people but is worried about his own mental health, from one antisocial who has grown above it to another. She could perhaps understand and through said knowledge know how to help him open himself up more. That is if she cared enough. Taric on the other hand would feel the damage and pain in Aphelios, and as all life should be beautiful so would he try to mend Aphelios. He clearly has the warmth, care, compassion, and patience to deal with someone as secluded as Aphelios, gently prying him open until he finally lets himself feel again and maybe finally finds someone who can help him open up to other Lunari and Targonians. Isolation is a terrible thing and it leaves horrible scars. I see only Taric in a position where he could mend those scars. Pantheon likely would not care, he is cold and angered himself, no mercy for the strong, as he says. That’s why I think they would clash or would just never get past the cold nodding before combat phase. 

This isn’t to bash any people who like the ship, I just thought id give my two cent on Pantheon x Aphelios and why it never occurred to me to ship these two. I get that emo x himbo is a thing, probably also why Aphelios x Sett is so loved, but from a lore and character standpoint I don’t really see it. 

This was a post I’ll link to twitter, but if you have input or a different opinion I am always open to discussion and new viewpoints. Go crazy! 

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] One Year

It had been an entire year.  Kaiser almost couldn't believe it.  Twelve months of being the unquestioned master of the Digital World - and the unquestioned Master of Motomiya Daisuke.  That was almost a little sweeter.  Though he really wasn't certain which he enjoyed more.  The two things wove around one another so very tightly that he couldn't separate them, and he didn't especially want to.

Right now, Daisuke knelt submissively at his feet, clad in the Kaiser's own colors, neat and clean, his eyes cast down, and if Kaiser had seen them, they would have been full of adoration for him.  That he approved of.  Which was, of course, why he'd arranged for Daisuke to have that in the first place.  The collar around Daisuke's neck made it impossible for him to think or remember or do or be anything that Kaiser didn't want him to be.

"Daisuke."  Kaiser said at last, and his slave looked up at once, large brown eyes focusing on him as if Kaiser were the source of all life.  Which, of course, he was as far as Daisuke was concerned.  Kaiser reached out to caress the side of Daisuke's face.  "Today is our anniversary.  You've belonged to me for a whole year now."  He nodded slightly to indicate that Daisuke could speak.

"It doesn't feel that long, master,"  Daisuke murmured, keeping his voice pitched properly low. "I think it only feels like a few days."

"I know.  I feel the same way."  Kaiser considered his options.  He had already decided not to have a celebration.  At least not one that multiple folk might be invited to - why would he even want that?  Digimon were little more than vaguely sentient lumps of data.  They meant nothing to him except as toys and tools.  But to celebrate his taking and taming of Daisuke?  That he would gladly do.  "I’ve had a special meal arranged for us tonight.  And I have a surprise for you as well."

Daisuke blinked a little.  "A surprise, Master?"  He worried at his lower lip.  "But I don't have anything for you."

And how could he, when Kaiser had everything?  But Kaiser only chuckled and patted Daisuke once again.  "You have yourself.  That's always what I want from you - just to be you for me.  Can you do that for me forever?"

"I will, Master!"  Daisuke declared, a few flickers of light burning in his eyes.  Kaiser leaned forward to brush his lips against Daisuke's.  Daisuke didn't hesitate for a second, but returned the kiss as much as he could.  Kaiser waited until what he knew was the absolute right moment then whispered a soft command.  Daisuke's ears might not hear it, but as close as he was, the collar would and that was what he wanted.

Daisuke stopped right away.  He blinked slowly, then his eyes cleared and he stared at Kaiser, building rage and anger overflowing.  For a moment he surged forward, but the collar hissed and sparked and he stopped where he was, shaking in unmeasured fury.  Kaiser chuckled.

"You haven't changed a bit,"  he purred, quite pleased to see this other side of Daisuke - what some people might call the "real" Daisuke.  Kaiser far preferred to think of him as the original Daisuke.  He didn't like to see him turn up all that often, preferred the Daisuke that he'd created, but this would do for a little amusement.

"How could I when you won't even let me exist?"  Daisuke snapped, his fingers tightening into fists.  The first time that Kaiser had allowed this, Daisuke had hit the wall until his knuckles bled.  Kaiser wasn't going to allow that.  What was his only could hurt as he declared it, and he hadn't declared it.

He fit a hand on Daisuke's cheek and smiled at him.  "That's not my problem. Do you really need to exist?  You're my property now.  I think we already went through this, though, didn't we?"

Daisuke trembled, clearly not liking how Kaiser touched him, and unable to do anything about it.  While his mind was in its original configuration,, his body remained suborned to the Kaiser's will, which meant he wasn't going to move unless Kaiser let him.  He probably wouldn't let him.  It was too much fun to see his frustration and fury in moments like this.

Kaiser toyed with his pet's hair.  "A whole year since I crushed those idiots and made you mine.  Do you think anyone even remembers you back there?  I doubt it.  They probably have written everyone off."  He suspected that wasn't entirely true.  He'd sealed the gateways but there were always the occasional moments when he thought someone prodded at them.  They couldn't get past his shielding. He thought it might well be the older Chosen.  Perhaps.  He would never know, because they weren't going to get in.

"I hate you.  I hate you so much,"  Daisuke hissed.  "You're a murderer.  You're awful.  You - you -"  Words failed him and Kaiser only smiled.

"What I am, is the winner."  Nothing else mattered t all.  He'd won. Finding out what to do with his victory was the difficult part.  He toyed now and then with removing the collar from Daisuke and breaking him the long, slow, hard way.  That would certainly offer quite a few challenges, and give him something interesting to look forward to.  Perhaps he'd let matters go on like this for a while, letting Daisuke remember that he existed now only as the Kaiser wanted him to, and only for as long as he wanted the other to.

It certainly sounded interesting, if only to him, and what else mattered?  Nothing, that was it.  Nothing at all.

"You didn't win anything."  Daisuke spat the words out, edged in rage and fury that only mounted with each passing moment.  "All you do is hurt people.  Kill people."

"Now, now that's not quite true."  He caught Daisuke's chin and turned it so he could stare into those deep brown eyes.  He did think that he liked this look far more than the absolute submissiveness of his creation.  It reminded him of the old days, when Daisuke fought against him, and it was somewhat of a challenge.  "I can also do things to you."

"That comes under hurting people,"  Daisuke growled.  "Let me go!  Let me go home!"

"You are home.  You are mine and you belong to me."  Kaiser traced Daisuke's lips with one finger.  "I might have to teach you that.  In fact, I know just how to do it."  After the last year, he knew Daisuke far better than the other could believe.  He could pick all the information he wanted from Daisuke's brain and the other wouldn't even be aware of it if his Master didn't want him to be.  Normally he didn't want him to be.  Daisuke was far more tractable when he was little more than a lump of malleable flesh. 

More tractable but not as interesting and truth to tell, Kaiser wanted something more interesting on some days.  He'd captured almost all of the Digimon running free and once he did that, they were easy to fit with a Ring or a Spiral, and that left them as no challenge whatsoever.  He'd heard rumors that there were a few survivors who called themselves a resistance, but he'd never found any real traces of them.  He suspected that they weren't anything more than vague whispers on the wind, sent by those he hadn't caught yet to give one another hope.

But he did want to crush those little slivers of hope, because if they caught into the correct fertile ground, they could become real hope and he wanted none of that.  Even those Digimon that he hadn't captured yet needed to know that they all belonged to him.  His territory was wide and far-ranging and he discovered day by day that there was more that he hadn't been able to get to.  Part of him liked that.  Part of him didn't. 

Being the unquestioned Kaiser wasn't without its issues.  That was why he stayed here and didn't just give it all up as a bad job to go back to Earth.  They would never appreciate him there regardless. 

And while he refused to admit it, a part of him didn't want to go back, because he suspected if he did, there would be questions about what happened to the other Chosen.  From the surviving older ones, if nothing else.  He wasn't going to let that happen. 

He toyed his fingers through Daisuke's hair.  "Come along,"  he ordered, rising to his feet.  He arranged for what he wanted in moments, then headed out to his personal favorite arena.  Daisuke followed along, his movements a little slower and jerkier than Kaiser would have liked.  Perhaps he'd have to give him more control more often.  His servant - his consort - should be more graceful than that.

Kaiser might still be but twelve, but the longer he only had Daisuke around, the more thoughts of certain natures occurred to him.  Not that they never had before, but he knew what would happen in due course.  He wasn't ready for it to happen yet, but they slept in the same bed every night, and he favored Daisuke with kisses whenever the mood struck him.  Perhaps in another year or two he would feel ready for more.  The question would then become if he should consummate the relationship with Daisuke's mind in full awareness or with the submissive, obedient slave who would do anything to please his master.  or both - both would be interesting.  Not at the same time; not even he could accomplish that. But one night for one and one night for another?  That he could easily manage.

He did look forward to that in the future.  But all in good time.  He wanted to ensure it was worth the anticipation.

Soon the two of them sat overseeing the arena.  Or rather, he sat in his throne, and Daisuke knelt down at his feet, attention on the arena below.  Kaiser gave an order, and two Digimon came out there - Agumon and Gabumon.  They were the ones who had been partnered to Yagami and Ishida - technically they probably still were, but that meant nothing now.  Both of them sported Evil Spirals - he would be able to evolve them if he so desired.  But for now, he simply gave the order, and the two of them began to spar against one another.

At his order, Daisuke watched, unable to turn his head away, and Kaiser watched in pure enjoyment.  He didn't know which he liked better, watching the combat itself, or watching Daisuke watch it, and clearly hating every second of it.  He passed his own time by stroking the back of Daisuke's head.  He'd learned months ago that Daisuke had a very sensitive scalp, and combining stroking there with the torment before him made for a very pleasant interaction in his opinion.  Daisuke hated it when Kaiser made him feel good, so Kaiser went out of his way to ensure that he made Daisuke feel very good.

A thought occurred to him, and he ordered, "Stand up.  Sit here."  He indicated his lap.  Daisuke's eyes widened, even as the collar forced him to obey.  Kaiser enjoyed the weight of Daisuke there, even more so than he enjoyed seeing Daisuke humbled and tamed before him.  He ran his fingers alongside Daisuke's skin and breathed in the scent of his rage.  So pleasant.  So enticing.  This was the greatest reward of his conquest - a true trophy in every sense of the word.  He would be thrilled to one day take it beyond.  For now, he savored the feel of Daisuke's hate and pleasure all mixed into one heady cocktail.

The battle beneath kept on going, lightning and ice dancing around one another.  He enjoyed the show there as well.  If there was one thing that he liked, it was those who'd once fought against him now being his devoted slaves, doing whatever he ordered and pleasing him with it.

"I hate you,"  Daisuke whispered.  "I'm always going to hate you.  You've taken everything from me."

"And I give you even more.  You're safe.  You don't have to fight anymore.  you don't have to go to school anymore, or have people around who mistreat you.  You don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from or where you're going to sleep at night.  You're absolutely safe."  Kaiser circled his arms around Daisuke's waist and held him close.  "Whatever could you want that I haven't given you?"

"My friends!  My home!  Not being tortured by you!  My partner!"  Daisuke snapped.  Kaiser remembered why he didn't like to do this very often. Daisuke always ranted about what he'd lost instead of thinking about all that he'd gained.  Perhaps it would be interesting to attempt that intensive training.  The idea had merit.

"None of that meant anything.  I am keeping you and we have had this discussion too many times.  Now watch the show and if you can't say anything new, then be quiet,"  Kaiser ordered.  He didn't expect to hear from Daisuke again unless he ordered it any time soon.

A tiny bit of something fell and Kaiser glanced up.  It wasn't getting ready to rain, so what had that dampness been?  He frowned - it was a tear.  A tear coming from Daisuke.  Really, what did the other think he had to cry about?  Would he have to teach him what pain meant – again.

Perhaps he would.  Daisuke only seemed to respond to pain these days.  Well.  He could do that.  He was very, very good at hurting people.  One must do what one was best at.  And he would do that for a very long time.

The End

Notes: Okay, this week I’m going to catch up on some old series. Not every time, but for some of them. Let’s go!

Those of you who have read Interruptions and Annoyances can probably guess that Ken did eventually take the time ot break Daisuke the long and slow way. Fun was not had by anyone – except Ken. And probably me.

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 129 Thoughts

This month: More people screaming and dying.

Next month: Probably more people screaming and dying.

Eventually: Just a whole heck of a lot of screaming.

(Not dying because there will be no more people.

They will be dead.)

Sooooooooooooooo.

Uh.

This chapter has people screaming and dying in it.

As well as the continuing strangeness of actively rooting for Reiner and Annie.

Ayep.

Ding-dong, Magath is dead?

Yet again, we land on the problem of a chapter that is largely self-explanatory, and the perhaps deeper problem of people committing themselves to doing a thing once a month, even if they’re not sure they’re able to do said thing. There’s good stuff here, I’m just hesitant to start talking about it lest it comes out like a random spew of instantly forgettable bullet points.

Since I don’t care, I guess we’ll start with Magath dying.

I don’t care. Moving on!

Theo Magath is a man who has always cared for the children under his command. Even though they’re Eldian, he has routinely gone above the expected amount of effort in securing their safety. He is the one who worries and waits for Reiner, Annie, Bertolt, and Marcel to come home. He is the one who destroys the worst of the military he’s a part of so they can stop depending on titans. He cares.

What a fucking bastard.

Keith Shadis dies with him. After a life of trying to make himself special, putting lives at risk every step of the way, he finds an appropriate time to make his exit. He’s the one who raises every fighter out in the port. He’s the one who has watched as the other instructors kill them so that they can find the ones strong enough to make the cut.

He’s the one who picks Eren up and brings him back to his bed after he inherits his father’s burden.

One thing I do think is important to note, whenever I’m inspired to say, ‘Fuck Marley,’ is that Paradis is not great.

Paradis has child soldiers too. They’re just slightly older.

Paradis fully expects their soldiers to go out and die too. Their consent just skates through needing air quotes.

Paradis has a corrupt government run by self-interest -- until they have a coup.

Magath’s job, his entire career, has been to make the most of the enslaved Eldian lives he’s been handed on a platter. It is his job to train children up to murder people. If they are not good enough at murder, they will be fed to other children.

Shadis feels more comfortable. He’s been a reasonable authority figure for most of the manga, with his worst crimes being in his past, and even that reveal coming with a greater show of humanity than any other displayed that night. He tries to run Eren out of the military before he destroys himself. He worries for the boy, and gives a voice to the struggle of trying to be special when you’re most gifted at fucking up.

Paradis’ military, at the start of the main plot, gets its recruits via shaming teenagers into being willing to die, or starving teenagers into being willing to die.

The primary difference between it and Marley’s system is that in that section of the totem pole, the oppression level is relatively neutral. The wall systems are kind of fucked, the nobility is kind of awful -- but like. Their last genocide was what, two years ago? And it was killing poor people, not people people.

Everyone in Paradis’ military has to deal with the fact that they’re in a shrinking safe space and they’re either going to starve, or monsters are going to eat them. That is the great equalizing force. If their commanding officer fucks up, he is going to get eaten. If the person next to them fucks up, they are going to get eaten.

They are not crouching down, approaching tiny children, and explaining that it is for the good of humanity that they are the ones eaten because their blood is dirty. Anymore.

Fuck Marley. Fuck its internment camps, fuck its slavery, fuck its brainwashing, fuck how it turned Good Eldians and Bad Eldians into war rhetoric. Fuck just about everything it has to offer.

Paradis is fucked up in the spirit of everyone there being equally fucked (unless you’re rich) (or nobility). Marley is fucked up because it’s made being fascist, warmongering assholes a national policy.

So you have two men on a boat waiting to die. They’ve both sent children to their deaths. They’ve both pushed over the lines trying to let their uniqueness carry change instead of doing the difficult legwork it actually takes.

One of them is not an active agent of genocide.

One of them is.

They both have sad feelings.

It is sad.

The important part is however badly they fucked up, the traumatized children they’re leaving behind are about to be more traumatized, and they’ve realized what a bad thing this is.

Only not really because Keith did his job, did his first job badly enough to find a new job, did that new job, and has continued doing that new job up to the point where he’s blowing himself up, and has no particular qualms about any of that since he’s pretty much been acting his conscience the whole time.

I’m lingering on this because you have both people who trained up our primary cast making a choice for the good of humanity, and dying the same way. It is a clear and obvious parallel, and it is being milked.

But it’s one of those parallels that makes me twitchy the longer I look at it. Probably because of that conscience part. These men play the same role, but besides their stages having massive differences, their choices do as well.

Magath’s conscience doesn’t stop him from shouting racist rhetoric at a preteen on a battlefield. In his introductory scene.

Shadis’ conscience, however warped some of the intent is, leads to him quitting and passing his job up to someone more qualified.

...Essentially, Shadis is kind of a bastard for a lot of things, but Magath is a fascist bastard, and continues to be a fascist bastard even when he takes steps to overthrow a fascist regime, and I know and appreciate that Magath realizes this and feels bad about it, but it’s hard not to resent the manga comparing Shadis and Magath so strongly.

Magath’s fucked up a lot. It’s good he admits it.

Shadis feels like one more person who sees death as all he has to offer the world.

In a series that actively opposes that line of thought whenever it comes up, it’s really difficult not to find the whole dynamic frustrating. Yes, the manga doesn’t say these two people are the same. They’re just in the exact same boat making the exact same decision.

Like that other group over in their boat.

Shadis is looking to die. Magath is looking to make a last stand.

I don’t think I’m doing a great job of putting into words why it’s so aggravating for me, except, you know. Fuck Marley. Also Magath helped cause all of this. Keith’s sort of sat around feeling various forms of guilt for years over things he screwed up because he was trying so hard.

Shadis forfeits his life.

Every other time someone with that mindset is ready to die, it’s met with no, you’re not done yet.

Shadis doesn’t get that. He’s done. Magath is the only one there to tell him otherwise, and Magath has his own problems.

There’s a vibe here that these two old teachers have outlived their purpose. Their kids are grown, for better and worse, and they’re the ones who will control the turn of the future. I don’t oppose them making that decision, but in Shadis’ case, it really comes off as him being cool with whatever, now that he’s made his stand.

Ugh. I don’t like it, but articulating why is probably best represented by me sulking and crossing my arms. Artistically, I get it. They��re the same piece on opposite ends of a chessboard.

But they’re different people and aaaargh.

Anyway, we continue the proud tradition of making Gabi cry.

Sorry about your life, Gabi.

In other news, we continue to not have any way to stop Eren.

Like.

At all.

We have an estimate of four days before Eren succeeds in wiping out a continent.

Their only chance of stopping that is powering up an airship, using some of that good ol’ talk-no-jutsu, or killing Eren.

If they take the route of killing Eren, all of the Colossals he’s been ordering on their walk will stop being under his command. Because he will be dead. Meaning that the continent, as well as our heroes, will now have to contend with a wild hoard of Colossal Titans out for a stroll.

Which is bad.

It’s basically where Paradis started out, but worse in every possible way.

Even if they manage to have someone on their team eat Eren, there’s a good chance that OG Ymir might not react well to her savior being axed. There’s a similarly good chance that the ability to use the Founder’s power just won’t be functional.

So if they kill Eren, they will stop having intentional destruction.

Instead, we will have unintentional destruction, of which there will be a lot.

Leaving us with talk-no-jutsu.

When the last attempt at talk-no-jutsu led to Armin punching Eren and being bad at it. And Eren punching Armin and being less bad at it.

Basically, everyone’s really hoping that by communicating with Eren, they can somehow make this all go away. There is no evidence that this will work, and no evidence that any of the added backup plans will do anything but cause different problems, but by golly, they’ve completed step .5 of their 3-step plan to maybe changing their circumstances.

(Step 1: Get Air Boat Step 2: Fly Air Boat To Eren Step 3: Talk Eren Out Of Genocide)

BOY I SURE AM HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS PUTTERING ALONG WITH THAT FORWARD PROGRESS. WHAT CHAMPS. GOOD FOR YOU.

YOU’RE STILL FUCKED.

I AM SO HAPPY THAT WE ARE SPENDING ALL THIS TIME ON A PLAN THAT DOES NOT SOLVE THE FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM OF HOW COMPLETELY FUCKED YOU ALL ARE.

IT IS NICE THAT YOU ALL FEEL LIKE YOU ARE CONTRIBUTING USEFUL THINGS TO YOUR SOCIETY. YOU DO YOU.

YOU ARE NOT ACTUALLY HELPING.

BUT MORE OF YOUR FRIENDS ARE DEAD FOR A GOOD CAUSE.

I’m not upset, I would just really like all of this to feel meaningful. Right now there’s a ridiculous amount of stress and dead bodies going into a goal that could easily end up pointless.

There’s merit to that as a story, but none of that stress lands properly, because the tension of “will they save the day or won’t they” isn’t dependent on what they’re doing here. The ticking clock might be making the characters stressed, but it’s not where the consequences lie.

I will continue to complain about this every month because I can.

In more positive news, Connie is best boi and no one appreciates him they way that they should.

Once upon a time, Reiner bullied Annie into taking a more active role in murdering Marco.

One of the arguments he used to provoke her was that she saved Connie’s life.

Not long after that, Reiner and some other recruits find themselves stranded in Utgard Castle, where a titan gets in and goes after Connie. Reiner charges in, gets his arm chomped on, and through everyone’s combined efforts, the titan gets shoved out a window.

Annie and Reiner both make the choice to save Connie’s life, even though it does nothing to benefit them.

In this chapter, beheaded and missing their arms, Connie swoops in and saves both of them.

The first taste of this technically goes to Mikasa, because she can’t help being a hero. She doesn’t like Annie. Annie is about the only human being whose existence can make her lose her temper. When a soldier gets behind Annie, Mikasa is there to back her up. It’s done casually and smoothly, because Mikasa’s just that good.

We’re still left with multiple shots of Annie staring at Mikasa.

Later followed with her staring at Reiner.

Annie and Reiner are used to being the traitors. They’re the ones their friends have every reason to hate. They’re the ones who spend years living with the victims of a war they brought to their shores. They’ve never expected forgiveness. They’re condemned, and almost welcome it.

Their trio interplay is never great. Reiner is trying too hard, and shielding Bertolt. Annie gets stuck with the grunt work, and knows they’re the bad guys. They don’t get along. They’re comrades, and allies, but their friendship is never portrayed as anything but their last lifeline.

Reiner and Bertolt are friends.

Annie’s the only one who has her fight with the Survey Corps alone.

This time, Reiner’s there, and he’s protecting her.

If you dig into any combination of these relationships, there’s not exactly a shortage of rot. They’ve all hurt each other, and they all know it.

But at the end of the day, they’re all just a bunch of damaged kids looking to be found.

None of the surviving cast is without a shoulder to lean on. They’ve made the decision to be there for each other, and as bleak as circumstances are, Annie’s face spends so much time this chapter shouting that she’s never been able to have that.

Even Magath, who goes off with the intent of dying alone, doesn’t.

There’s still some human warmth left in the world, and that’s what they’re trying to protect.

Please just do it with an actual plan, I’m begging you guys.

Also, Floch gets shot! So that’s nice.

I do not see a corpse.

That is less nice.

Isayama also gave Falco a fucking birdsona titan.

We’re not without things to cheer.

Tune in next month for more screaming and dead bodies.

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 #3: Bulky

The entity scowled, tapping his (its? Their?) foot impatiently. “I told you, you get to bring one thing.”

Sara smiled brightly at him. “This is one thing. My garden.”

Ganymede looked down at her, his expression even more supercilious than usual. “Do you honestly think I’m going to allow an entire garden as one thing?”

Sara sat down on the tree stump. Part of her still couldn’t believe she’d lost the house, that all of this – the tree stump her father had cut down to prevent the wind from knocking it onto the house, the tire swing he’d put up for her, Mom’s rose trellises all around the house and the herb patch she’d had Sara weeding and tending from the age of 5, the screened-in porch, the attic bedroom – all would be gone in a matter of weeks. The bank would take it, and sell it to someone who would probably destroy everything her parents had built to make the place special and unique, and she would never see any of this ever again.

She’d thought Ganymede’s offer would allow her to take at least a part of her home with her, but he was balking.

“When you think about it, can we describe anything as just one thing?” she asked. “Everything we have is made of molecules, which are made of atoms, which are made of quarks. We’re all a multiplicity. We all have legions contained within us. So how is a garden not ‘one thing’ but, say, if I wanted to bring a bicycle, that would be ‘one thing’ even though it’s made of so many things?”

Ganymede’s expression went from deeply irritated to reluctantly amused, and he chuckled. “A nice argument, but no. Your garden’s too bulky. It can neither transport you, nor can it be carried around with you.”

“You never said there was a weight limit.”

“It’s not a weight limit. If you wanted to bring a car, you could. I don’t advise it, but you could.”

“Are any of the others bringing a car?” Sara asked.

Now Ganymede laughed. “Tsk, tsk. I told you I wouldn’t tell you anything about what the others are choosing.”

Ganymede – who appeared to be a tall, slender man with pale skin and curly green hair, like he was some kind of comic book character, and who claimed to be a very bored alien with godlike powers who was taking human form so that he could interact with Sara – had showed up at the café Sara waitressed at, three weeks ago, and was apparently very impressed with Sara’s ability to put up with entitled idiots and even get them to calm down and do what they were supposed to do. He’d ordered cherry pie and asked her if she’d ever wanted to travel into the past, and when Sara had pointed out that in the past, she would have had her rights severely curtailed because she was a woman, he’d asked, what if she could bring one thing from this time, one thing in her possession?

Sara’s master’s degree in the history of plant cultivation in Europe and how it impacted society had never done her a damn bit of good. It had resulted in crushing student loans that a job as a waitress couldn’t keep up with and still pay the mortgage her parents had left to her when they’d died in a car accident, and it hadn’t resulted in a good-paying job in academia like she’d expected when she started college. She was about to lose her parents’ home, the only place she’d ever considered home in her life. And before her boyfriend had dumped her last month, he’d turned most of their friends against her with lies and distortions.

Sara didn’t want to die, but she had lately been seriously reconsidering how badly she actually wanted to live.

So she’d agreed to Ganymede’s offer. Go back to the pre-Renaissance medieval era – or something very much like it – with one thing brought from the future. He’d explained that she wouldn’t actually be going to her own world’s past, so she couldn’t create a paradox by changing the future – she could freely do whatever she wanted without worrying about making her grandparents never born or something. He’d also told her that he was making the same offer to several other people, but that she wouldn’t necessarily get to meet them unless they happened to run into each other by chance in the past-world. And she had a month to get the thing she wanted to bring to the past.

Sara had spent the last three weeks digging up her garden and potting everything in ceramic pots, figuring ceramic wouldn’t be an issue in the past like plastic would be. Sadly, she’d had to abandon the apple trees, the peach tree and the grapevines – she couldn’t exactly dig out trees and pot them – but she’d gotten everything else. The potatoes had been a challenge – exposing potatoes to light while they were growing would make them inedible, so she’d had to dig them out on a cloudy night with no moon, more or less digging by feel instead of sight. Carrots, potatoes and onions had needed very large, deep pots. She’d wound her zucchini around a tomato cage in the large pot she’d put it in. The small fruit bushes – the blueberry bush, the raspberry bush – were already in pots. She had her peppers, her tomatoes, her tiny soybean bush, her arugula.

And now, after she’d done so much work to pot everything, Ganymede was telling her she couldn’t bring it?

“Look, if I had a caravan wagon and a horse, I could definitely carry all of this.”

“But you can’t bring a caravan wagon and a horse back with you.”

“No, but I could get one there.”

Ganymede chuckled. “You think I’m sending you with money? You get period-acceptable clothes, the ability to speak the language, immunity to all the local diseases, and the thing that you bring with you, and that’s it. If you appear in the middle of a field, or a town square, surrounded by potted plants, how are you going to bring them with you to whatever shelter you need to take?”

“They’re plants. If I have to leave them out in a field for a few days while I carry them all to wherever I end up going, nothing bad’s going to happen to them.”

“And what if you appear in the middle of the town square?”

“Then I prevail upon some good gentlemen to help me move them someplace safe.”

A deep sigh escaped Ganymede. “I’m almost tempted to let you. Just to let you find out first hand how much your plans are not likely to work. But no. An entire garden is too bulky, and I’m quite certain that most humans would define a garden as a collection of things, not one thing.”

“Come on! I did a lot of work to put all these plants into pots! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Sadly, no.” Ganymede walked around the garden of pots, randomly touching most of the plants. “You did do quite a lot of work. I tell you what, I feel bad for you. Pick something else to bring and I’ll make sure all your plants get donated to people who like to grow things and are good at it.”

“And aren’t racists,” Sara insisted.

“It’s interesting that that matters to you; aren’t you part of the dominant ethnic group in this nation? Racism doesn’t affect you, generally speaking.”

It was true that Sara was white, and therefore, racism rarely directly affected her, but she had an answer for that. “Racist people in this country have been brainwashed into believing that climate change is a hoax, that gay and transgender people are some kind of terrible threat, and that it’s more important to make sure the government doesn’t tax rich people than to put any accountability on big corporations. Everything bad that we can’t get solved in this country and we can’t even begin to start solving it, because people won’t let us… it’s because rich people have figured out how to use racism to brainwash white people into voting against their own interests.”

“Oh, I understand.” Ganymede grinned broadly. “You’re a hippie, aren’t you?”

“Uh… not really? That was sort of my parents’ generation? I think of myself more as solarpunk. But if what you’re trying to get at is that I’m someone who cares about the environment and wants people to be happy and healthy and to care about each other, then yeah.”

“All right, very well. I’ll hand them over to people whose political beliefs generally track with yours, who are good with plants, and who have space to grow them. Now, pick something else.”

“A big sack that I can carry on my back, maybe 50 pounds, and I get to fill it with seeds and bulbs and anything else plant-related that I can fit in the sack.”

Ganymede raised his eyebrows. “You’re really dedicated to this bit, aren’t you?”

“I know how to use plants to change history. I don’t know how to change history with anything else – not in a way I might want to. I mean, I could bring a gun, but after I was out of ammo, what good would it do me? And also, I don’t like guns.”

“All right,” Ganymede said. “I’ll allow it. As long as you can carry the sack on your person, you can stuff as many seeds into it as you want.”

Sara smiled at him with her best customer service smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

“One more week,” he said, and vanished.

One more week and she’d leave all this behind. One more week and she wouldn’t have to worry about the foreclosure and impending eviction anymore, because she’d be in a whole other world.

[loopy777]

Okay, so I wanted to expand on that idea of that dream I had further with you. So stop me if I’m getting ahead of myself. Imagine an animated atla movie that takes place after the movie, with Mai and Ty Lee being the main characters (movie being Mai-centric), with Mai and Zuko finally getting back together at the end of the movie! The conflict will be about some kidnappings in the Fire Nation but Zuko is stressed/busy to solve it, so Suki ask Ty Lee & Mai to deal with the kidnappings. (1/3)

As Mai and Ty Lee start their investigation, they realize that the kidnappings were only focused on people who were in the army when the Fire Nation tried to invaded Ba Sing Se. This information was obviously interesting to them, so they tell Zuko about it. Zuko, being now nervous that Ty Lee and Mai are gonna be in actual danger since they were also people who invaded Ba sing Se, decided to end the operation. An argument happened between Mai & Zuko, leading Mai and Ty Lee to do it instead.(2/3)

So they found the base of were kidnapped would be held. And as they sneak around the underground base they found all the people who were kidnapped, but the issue arise when they realize that’ll be difficult to get everybody out without being noticed. So Ty Lee promised the people that they’ll come back with help, but as they about to leave, they saw... Long Feng! And he was behind the whole thing! I haven’t figured out how it’ll end, so what’s your take on it? And how would you end it? (3/3)

That sounds cool! I love detective stories.

Before I get into how I would end it, though, we need to figure out what the story’s about. So far, we’ve established that it’s Mai-centric. We have her getting back with Zuko. We have the main mystery directly relating to her past actions in service of Azula and Fire Nation Imperialism.

Clearly, we’re dealing with Mai’s “redemption.”

Now, I’m not saying the character is in need of redemption. The cartoon used shorthand, but we did see her side with Zuko’s vision and the gAang accepted her by the end. So, for the purposes of accepting AtLA as it is, we get that the intention is for her to be on the side of the angels in full by the end. However, as long as we’re in fanfic land, we never really had Mai refute her accusation to Zuko that he’s betraying the Fire Nation by siding with the Avatar, so we can pay off on that now.

So, given the elements in the sandbox so far, we have an opportunity for Mai to clearly condemn her earlier actions and philosophy.

And since Long Feng is our villain, he has to be her contrast in some way. We know he’s kidnapping people who he thinks wronged Ba Sing Se, and it’s probably for some kind of revenge. By why the kidnapping? Why not outright murder? Well, Long Feng used to have a brainwashing scheme going...

So, back to the story! Mai and Ty Lee see Long Feng! He was behind the whole thing! They try to get away to get word to Zuko, but they get spotted and the bad guys try to capture them. Mai and Ty Lee fight in self-defense. Their attackers are a few old Dai Li agents supplanted by some other Earth-patriot extremists in the style of Jet. Long Feng joins the fight, too.

Mai and Ty Lee fight well, but they’re soon overwhelmed. Ty Lee is taken out of the fight! She tells Mai to run, to save herself! Mai realizes that it would be the tactically smart move, but that’s not how she rolls. She runs back to save Ty Lee. She thinks she’s going to die for the sake of friendship, but she knows she owes Ty Lee her life, and so she’s comfortable with the trade here. She just wishes she could have said goodbye to Zuko, and she really does regret that they couldn’t find a way to make it work. She takes up her last blades and faces down the enemy...

And Aang bursts in with the gAang, followed by Zuko leading in a Fire Army, and they save the day and capture the bad guys and capture Long Feng. The captives are freed! Zuko orders them taken back to the Capital for treatment and eventual return to their homes. The day is saved! Hooray!

But something is bothering Mai. She goes along with the gAang back to the Capital. Zuko explains that he roused the gAang when Mai insisted on continuing the investigation. They followed the same clues as Mai to the general area, and then Toph found them by sensing the big fight.

Zuko expects Mai to be angry, but she’s actually grateful. She appreciates him backing her up. That’s what she wanted in the first place, but their argument got in the way. They have a heart-to-heart about why they broke up. In this case, I might steal borrow @privatefire‘s good idea of Zuko having a mistrust of Mai’s safety after hearing how she almost died in the Boiling Rock. Things aren’t quite resolved, though; Mai realizes she’s done nothing to get Zuko over his worry, so they can’t be together. She does accept his invitation to recuperate in the Capital on his dime, though, as long as Ty Lee can come.

And the night after everyone has been brought into the Capital, while Zuko and the gAang and the elite of the Fire Nation sleep, Long Feng’s real plan starts. The prisoners, all of whom were brainwashed for this exact moment, have their programming triggered and they rise up as an army to take control of the Capital for him. Long Feng doesn’t just want revenge- he wants to replace the home he lost because of the Fire Nation. The ex-army people, with surprise on their side, are able to take care of any security and seal off the Capital. They free Long Feng and let in the remnants of his own extremist army. They’re going to kill Zuko and the gAang and the fire-nobles, or perhaps use them as hostages to get the rest of the world to back off. Then they’ll reach out to the colonies and Earth Kingdom and create a new global federation of Earth-outcasts, led by Long Feng. He will be the Earth Emperor, and he has definite plans to use his new powerbase to conquer the Earth Kingdom. The rest of the Fire Nation islands will be their colonies.

But Mai figured out, just in time, that Long Feng wanted to get him and his prisoners captured, so she and Ty Lee are able to avoid being taken. But now they need to rescue everyone! Lots of action happens here, and perhaps a duel with Long Feng on the outside of the central tower of the Fire Palace. Ty Lee fights the brainwashed ex-soldiers and frees the gAang, her own style uniquely suited to not hurting the brainwashed people. Mai defeats Long Feng, but I’m thinking she does it by somehow destroying the whole Fire Palace.  Perhaps she does something Long Feng on purpose to redirect his Earthbending to undermine the tower, and it crashes down on the rest of the palace. I want the symbolism of her not just protecting the Fire Nation, but rejecting imperialism in all its forms. So, after a harrowing night, the day is saved.

Closing action: having been saved by Mai again, Zuko admits that his worries about Mai are hypocritical. They will both always need to be saved, by each other and their friends, if they keep fighting for the good of the world. He has to bring Mai into his life, stop keeping secrets from her, if they’re both going to be safe. He asks Mai again if they can be together. She says yes...

...if he does some action to make up for previous Fire Nation imperialism she helped perpetrate. Perhaps she wants Zuko to pledge funds and soldiers for the defense of the independent colonies. We can allude to this being the start of the United Republic Army. We’d have to set up in the beginning of the story that the safety of the former colonies is threatened by bandit groups and maybe even each other, and the smaller independent settlements can’t put together the forces to defend themselves and Aang can’t be everywhere.

Anyway, Zuko agrees, he and Mai get together, the palace will be rebuilt to not be so spiky, and all is well.

...

You know, that’s not half bad, especially for building off a dream. That’s why I always write down the dreams I have that actually seem to have some kind of narrative structure. Mostly, though, I just have dreams that make no sense.

[perspective-series]

Kingdom Perspective (11)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, kidnapping, keeping/treating people like pets, threats, and unwanted touching/grabbing

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

—————————————————————————————————-

 Patton watched as Roman left with complete shock on his face. He...didn’t lock them in the cage? 

“I’ve got him pretty well trained.” Virgil joked, seeing the look on Patton’s face.

 Patton shifted a little but didn’t exit out of the cage.

“...well?” Virgil tapped his foot playfully, giving Patton a patient look. “Are you coming?”

 Patton bit his lip but did step out of the cage after much hesitation. He fidgeted with his hands. “Roman seems...different.” He said after another moment.

“Yeah.” Virgil admitted, having noticed the true change himself just earlier today. Virgil could only hope it stuck. “What was he like before I got here?”

 Patton shrugged. “I don’t really know. I never saw him much...or anyone, for that matter. I only ever really saw and talked to Logan. I think I saw Roman more in these past few days than in the whole year.”

“Weird.” Virgil found a comfortable spot to sit on a stack of papers, patting next to it for Patton to join him. “So tell me about Logan, then. Has he changed?”

 Patton took the seat and thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’d say so. Back a year ago he was so...serious. I mean, he still is but less so now. He was more intimidating back then but I could also tell there was a softness in there at the very beginning. Which just continued to grow throughout the year.”

“...uh huh.” Virgil gave him a judgemental look from the side. He had a feeling Patton was the kind of person who tried to see the best in everyone, which in this case wasn’t a good thing.

 Patton nodded, not taking notice of the judgemental look. “It’s just, he’s great now, you know? He didn’t even punish me for trying to escape earlier.”

“Okay, first, he should never punish you.” Virgil turned to Patton in shock. “But you really tried to escape earlier? I’m proud of you, Pat. What happened?”

 Patton looked away. “Well...it was less trying to escape than just trying to get to you. But, he caught me after I realized I couldn’t open the door by myself.” Patton looked towards said door with a sigh. But then he perked up. “But Logan wasn’t even mad! We had a long talk and after that, I realized I was happy here and didn’t want to leave Logan.”

“Does Logan have some sort of sorcerer powers?” Virgil asked genuinely, remembering that was a thing in this world. “Because that definitely sounds like some sort of brainwashing spell.”

 “Um...no, I actually asked him about that and he doesn’t have any sort of magic ability. Which is why he said only Dee would be able to get us back to our world.” He then turned to look at Virgil. “And I’m not brainwashed.”

“Well you certainly seem like it.” Virgil stood firm on his stance. “I mean, you’re seriously telling me you’re happy with the idea of being trapped in a cage the rest of your life, being viewed as an unintelligent pet? Because that’s Stockholm syndrome.”

 Patton glanced over at the cage. “It’s...it’s for my own safety.” Patton said, matter of factly. “And Logan doesn’t see me like that…” Logan was his friend, right?

“What’s the cage keeping you safe from?” Virgil looked over at it as well.

 “Um...other people?” Patton didn’t really know, that’s just what Logan had told him several months ago.

“Isn’t this Logan’s bedroom?” Virgil pointed out. “Does anyone else even come in here?”

 “Well...not anymore. But servants used to enter the room all the time and…” Patton shivered. A lot of servants were good at not even looking at him but others...other got a little too curious. “Now, I’ve only ever seen Roman, the king, and Logan’s advisor come in here.”

“Okay, but even then, how’s a cage going to stop them?” Virgil pointed out. “Any of them can open it. All it does is keep you from running away.”

 Patton looked down. “I...I guess you do have a point...but still! I trust Logan and he cares about me. And that doesn’t make me brainwashed.” Patton crossed his arms.

“It’s been a year, Patton.” Virgil reminded him gently. “It’d be really easy for you to mistake ‘not being as big a jerk as he could be’ for ‘caring about you’. And sure, Logan probably cares about you, but only like an owner cares for a dog. He doesn’t see you as a person.”

 Patton bit his lip. “Well, I think you’re wrong.” He said simply.

“Then why does he still treat you like a pet?” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

 Well...Patton didn’t really have an answer for that. So he just stubbornly kept his mouth shut.

“Patton, maybe Logan does really care about you.” Virgil knew he didn’t have all the details, even if the signs were pretty clear. “But if he really cared about you he’d want what’s best for you.”

 Patton bit his lip, thinking back to the conversation he had with Logan. How...How Logan had said he just wanted Patton to be happy. Even if that meant letting him go. But if Patton told that to Virgil, he would make him go back to their world. And...And Patton didn’t want that. “He does.” Was all he could say.

“Then he’ll want you to go too.” Virgil insisted. “And hopefully, between the three of us, we can convince him to take us back.”

 “But I don't want to.” Patton said once more, looking at Virgil.

“Why?” Virgil said exasperatedly, looking lost.

 “Because Logan is the only one who has cared about me in years!” Patton suddenly exclaimed. His eyes widened at his own outburst and he lowered his eyes, turning away from Virgil. “I need Logan and Logan needs me. We’re...friends.” They were friends, weren’t they?

“...Patton, that can’t be true.” Virgil gave his fellow human a sympathetic look. “You’re far too nice to be ignored. I’m sure somebody cared about you before Logan.”

 Patton was quiet, still not looking at Virgil.

“And even if you are friends, that doesn’t mean you should stay here.” Virgil shook his head. “I mean, only socializing with one person can’t be healthy.”

 “...I don’t think either of us are going to see eye to eye anytime soon.” Patton said after a moment. He finally looked back up at Virgil. “Can we just...drop it?” Patton’s head was starting to hurt and he didn’t like arguing with the other human.

Virgil stared at Patton for a moment, considering. He didn’t want Patton to stay here, but he also didn’t want to drive the human further away by continuing to argue.

“Fine.” Virgil shifted his sitting position to face forwards again. “Yeah, we can drop it.” He was quiet a moment. “Sorry.”

 Patton nodded. “Thank you.” And then, after a moment. “I’m sorry too, I hate fighting.”

“It wasn’t fighting, I was just...nope, sorry, right. Dropping it.” Virgil put his hands up in surrender, staring straight ahead.

 Patton sent Virgil a smile, letting him know that he appreciated Virgil dropping it. Patton looked around. They still had a bit of time before Logan came back and well, Patton didn’t really want to spend it in silence. “So...did anything big or interesting happen in the year that I was gone?” Patton asked.

“Well, we’ve got a clown in the white house.” Virgil joked. “Although I guess that’s nothing new. Uh….climate change is still going to kill us all. The bees are disappearing at an alarming rate.”

 Patton nodded, though he had already known all that from when he was taken. He didn’t have to worry about any of that stuff in this world though. “So still the same old earth, huh?”

“Not anymore.” Virgil gave him a grin. “They must be going insane, now that I’m gone. I practically run the place. Last year we decided to make it a dictatorship, and naturally I was chosen. I’ve always given off good evil overlord vibes.”

 Patton chuckled, knowing Virgil was just joking. “Aww, I don’t think you’re evil.” Patton thought for a moment. “And you know if that’s true, you just called yourself a clown, right?” Patton grinned.

“...I see you’ve caught onto my foolproof lie.” Virgil chuckled, realizing his mistake. 

 Patton laughed. It was quiet for another moment. “So...it looks like you and Roman are getting along now?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t change. Roman just became a half-decent person.”

 Patton hummed. “I was worried about you, when Roman first came in for Logan’s advice but it seemed he only got better with each visit.” Patton said.

“...shouldn’t he be back by now?” Virgil frowned, looking towards the door. 

 Patton frowned and followed Virgil’s line of sight. “It depends. He’s been getting later and later recently, what with the coronation coming up.” Patton explained.

“I meant Roman.” Virgil shifted slightly. “I kinda thought he’d be here for when Logan comes.”

 “Oh, uh, well if Logan’s the king than he’s becoming the next in line, right? Which means he needs to do all the stuff Logan used to have to do. So...he might be a while too.” Patton explained once again.

“Right.” Virgil began to bounce his leg anxiously. “But who do you think will be back first? Because I’m not exactly eager to do this without Roman.”

 Patton frowned. “Why? Logan’s great.” The human smiled at that. “And uh, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Logan got back first, since he’s been out the longest.” Patton said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly eager to try and talk him into giving away his prized pet alone.” Virgil gave Patton a sideways glare. “I’m not exactly a friendly person, and giants have a tendency to not listen to me.” Virgil paused, his mind beginning to spiral through all the ways this could go horribly wrong. “Patton. When you’re...disobedient, what does Logan do?”

 Patton shifted uncomfortably. “Well...that hasn’t happened in a while.” Patton was usually good and the few times he did do something over these last few days, Logan had told him it wasn’t really his fault.

 “But...well, my punishments usually ranged from isolation to having my things taken away. He would also scold me sometimes, if he was really frustrated. There was also a few times I went to bed without dinner but those didn’t happen too often.” Patton thought back, shivering slightly at the memories.

“Okay, first, what the hell.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Friends don’t do that crap. That’s messed up. But uh…” Virgil licked at his chapped lips. “What do you think he’ll do with me? I mean, I’m not exactly obedient, and no way in hell I’m going to act it either, but…” But, at the same time, Virgil preferred his limbs stay attached to his body.

 Patton furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, you don’t have to worry about him hurting you. He’d never do that.” Patton thought for a moment. “But, I’m not sure. He might just tell Roman for him to deal with you? I can’t be certain.”

“How can you be sure?” Virgil turned to Patton, looking a bit frantic. “Patton, he’s a Giant. If Logan wanted to he could reach out and snap my arm with his fingers!”

 Patton gasped. “He wouldn’t do that!” He had feared that same thing, way back when, but it had been clear over time that his fears were unfounded. “Just breathe Virgil, everything is going to be okay.” He placed a hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly.

It was at that moment the door creaked open, a giant stepping into the room.

Virgil tensed, sitting up straight and looking at the eldest prince with trepidation clear on his features. 

Logan paused just inside the doorway, taking in the scene before him. The cage was open, and Patton was out with Virgil, but a glance around the room made it clear that Roman was nowhere in sight.

 Patton perked up. “Logan!” It was then that he realized he wasn’t inside the cage. “Oh, uh, sorry I’m out but uh, Roman came by and dropped Virgil off.” He motioned toward Virgil with a smile.

“I can see that.” Logan came closer, looking almost puzzled.

The second Logan took a step forwards Virgil shot up, standing on his feet and trying to look confident. “I’ve come to talk to you.” Virgil spoke. 

“Oh, you have?” Logan raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “Where’s Roman?”

“I said I’ve come to talk to you.” Virgil felt his hands curl into fists, hating the way giants always acted as though he wasn’t worthy of being addressed. “Not Roman, me.”

 Patton looked between the two, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything or what he even could say.

“You’re quite feisty for a human.” Logan noted. “But go on, you may speak.”

Virgil wanted to sass the giant further, but at the last second he remembered he was supposed to be winning Logan over. “I want you to send us home.”

“...I see. That isn’t exactly under my jurisdiction.” Logan pulled out the desk chair, sitting down so he could look at the humans from more equal footing.

“Yeah, but it’s going to be.” Virgil pointed out. “You’re gonna be king, and then you say the word and we could leave.” 

Logan paused, his eyes shifting to Patton.

 Patton met Logan’s eyes for a second, before looking down. “Virgil wants to go home.”

Logan didn’t know whether to feel guilty for the feeling of relief that washed over him.

“We both need to go home.” Virgil insisted, giving Patton a look.

“Well either way, I am not your caretaker.” Logan adjusted his spectacles. “Such a decision would certainly require a consultation with Roman.”

“It shouldn’t.” Virgil crossed his arms. “But Roman already agreed because he’s not a stuck up prick... anymore.”

“Be that as it may, I would still like to hear such a statement from his lips.” Logan glanced between the door and the desk. “Where is he, anyways? Why are the two of you alone?”

 “Roman got pulled away for his new duties.” Patton explained. “And, well, I heard Roman say he agreed too.”

“Regardless, this is quite the turn around.” Logan narrowed his gaze. “Roman was quite adamant about getting a human for a long time. How did you get him to change his tune so quickly?”

The question surprised Virgil enough to make the human actually think about it. “I yelled at him a lot and didn’t play all of your guy’s mind games.”

“Mind games?” The prince repeated.

“Yeah, like what you did to Patton.” Virgil jabbed his thumb in Patton’s direction.

 Patton sighed, turning to Virgil. “Virgil, there aren’t any mind games going on. I told you already.” He wanted to stay because Logan was his friend. Not because of some sort of brainwashing.

“I certainly haven’t done anything of the sort to Patton.” Logan assured Virgil.

“Am I the only one who’s not crazy?” Virgil scoffed. He walked across the desk, gesturing with both arms towards Patton’s enclosure. “You keep him in a cage! You make him do little tricks for your amusement. You act like he’s an inferior being and deserves to be treated like this. And even worse, then you go and lie to him about actually caring just so that he’ll stay here.”

 “He does care about me!” Patton exclaimed. He turned to Logan. “Right?”

“I...yes.” Logan answered Patton’s question truthfully.

“You hesitated!” Virgil pointed an accusing finger at Logan. 

“I was thinking about your previous statements.” Indeed, Logan’s mind was still processing it. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to be misunderstood. “I do believe you’re simplifying the issue.”

“There’s not exactly a grey area here.” Virgil argued. “Kidnapping people is wrong.”

“Fair enough.” Logan relented. “Although you must understand, in my defense, I was not the one who...took Patton from his former life. Indeed, unlike the case with Roman, I am not even the primary reason Patton is now within this realm. Patton was first discovered by the court sorcerer, who shared this discovery with my father.”

 Patton shivered as those memories came back to him. That had been the scariest moment of his life. A giant hand reaching from the heavens to grab him and take him into a place where everything was so much bigger than he was. Not to mention, he hadn’t been given to Logan right away. He pushed those memories down deep.

“Their methods were not always...kind.” Logan kept his wording mild, not wanting to trigger any unhappy feelings for Patton. Though Logan had seen and heard very few details, the fear that had always been present on Patton’s features back then was heartbreaking. Indeed, it was the first instance where Logan felt truly sympathetic towards an individual other than himself.

“Eventually though they grew bored of Patton.” Logan continued. “When father suggested getting rid of him, by rather horrific means unfortunately, I quickly offered to take Patton under my care instead.”

 Patton smiled. He remembered that well. “Y-Yeah! Logan saved me.” He’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for Logan.

“Fine, you did one nice thing.” Virgil relented. This king guy sounded like a premium jerk. Maybe it really was a good thing Logan was replacing him. “But that still doesn’t explain all the pet stuff. Patton is a person, yet you’ve been treating him like a talking hamster.”

“What is a hamster?” Logan tilted his head, confused.

 “Oh! A hamster is a kind of rodent about this big.” Patton showed how big they were with his hands. “Well, at least in our world. Humans usually keep them as pets.” Patton explained.

“That’s miniscule.” Logan tried to picture a creature so small, let alone of the rodent variety. Most rodents were the size of Patton. 

“You’re missing the point.” Virgil groaned. “You’re treating Patton like a pet and it’s freaking wrong and creepy.”

 Patton wanted to argue some more, he did. But he knew he was treated like a pet. Logan still definitely cared about him. He had just yet to change how he took care of him. But, they were friends now. Surely Logan still didn’t see him as a pet, like in the beginning.

“Patton is well cared for, and I thought it would be most beneficial to his health if I kept large changes to a minimum.” Logan spoke in a soft tone, as if explaining things to a child. “Certainly Patton has never voiced any concerns over these arrangements, so I was under the assumption that this was acceptable.”

“You just said he nearly died!” Virgil exclaimed. “Of course he didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to be punished and literally lose his life for saying ‘hey could I maybe not live in captivity like an animal’?”

 Patton looked down for a moment. “Logan...I...well…” How did he say this. “We’re friends, right? And I do want to stay but maybe if we lost the...uh...cage and stuff, that would be...nice.” Patton bit his lip and looked up nervously at the giant.

“...friends.” The thought had never occurred to Logan. Logan had never had many friends. As a child he was only allowed to interact with other children of noble birth, many of whom were too incompetent and tedious for Logan to stand being within the same room. Even Roman could only be around so long before Logan needed blissful privacy.

But Patton…Patton was certainly different. Logan had never grown tired of Patton’s presence. He trusted Patton more than some of his advisors, and the human was the only one guaranteed to be able to improve Logan’s mood. 

Indeed, though he had never applied that term to their relationship in his mind, it was clear that their bond was something akin to friendship. Patton was, at his core, Logan’s truest and only friend. 

But what did that mean? Keeping a pet was one thing, but keeping a friend…?

“Of course.” Logan nodded, his eyes glazing over slightly as he tumbled down a rabbit hole of thoughts.

 Patton frowned and was now looking at Logan with concern. “Logan? Are you okay?”

“...I think I have to go.” Logan abruptly stood up, almost bumping the table in his haste. 

“Wait a second, what about me?” Virgil stepped forwards, realizing this might be his last chance.

“I, yes, you can go.” Logan waved offhandedly at the table, heading for the door. 

 “Logan! Wait!” Patton called out. Though he wasn’t sure what, he knew something had happened. But what? Why was Logan suddenly acting like this?

Logan did wait a moment, his hand on the door handle. “I need to think.” Logan didn’t look in their direction, leaving to clear his head. The door shut with a resounding thud.

Virgil looked at the door, trying to figure out if this was a success. Logan did say he could go. Maybe he was finally breaking down, just like Roman.

 “What’s gotten into him?” Patton asked out loud but mostly to himself. Was it something Patton had said? 

“I’m not sure, but I think he might be coming to his senses.” Virgil answered, a slow smile forming on his face.

 “...Oh.” Could that be it? Was it his comment about the cage that tipped Logan like that? Patton couldn’t be for sure.

 It was a few moments later when the door opened again. Patton perked up, expecting Logan to have come back but instead came in Roman.

 “Alright, I finally managed to get away from them.” Roman sighed with relief. “Has Logan come by yet?”

Virgil nodded. “He was just here, but he left after we started him down a path of existential crisis.”

 “Oh, well...I’m not sure Logan has ever had one of those before.” Roman pondered. “This should be good for him then. What did he say about the whole, letting you guys go, thing?”

 “He’s gonna let Virgil go home.” Patton said, looking down at the ground. Roman blinked.

 “Just Virgil?” He raised an eyebrow.

“...we’re working on it.” Virgil said in explanation.

 Roman hummed. “Well, maybe we should come back tomorrow and see what Logan says then. Virgil? Are you coming back with me?”

“Oh, I mean, I guess.” Virgil was surprised Roman asked, but Virgil wasn’t eager to spend more time here. Even if Logan wasn’t as bad as Virgil had suspected, he was still an unknown. And hanging around with Patton got depressing after a while. 

 “Great!” Roman grinned and held out his hand for Virgil to climb onto. Patton looked up again when they said they were leaving. 

 “Bye Virgil. See ya later.”

“Bye.” Virgil gave him a wave, climbing into Roman’s hand with only slight hesitation. It wasn’t like he could get back on his own. No...wait a second… yes he could. Virgil was capable.

“Wait!” Virgil quickly hurried off, back onto the desk. 

 Roman blinked. “Wh-What?” Roman asked, caught off guard by what Virgil had done.

 Patton, too, was confused.

“I mean...I don’t need a ride.” Virgil explained. “I can get back on my own.”

 “...I repeat, what?” Roman asked. “You...can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Virgil argued. “I mean, if I’m gonna be spending a few days here I should probably know how to get around.”

 “He has a point.” Patton said, backing his fellow human up.

 Roman sighed. He didn’t like the idea and it was much faster to just carry Virgil but...he didn’t want to lose what little trust he had gained. “Alright, fine. Do you at least want help down to the floor?”

“...yes.” Virgil admitted, remembering how his body was still bruised from the last time he yeeted himself off a desk. He climbed back onto Roman’s palm.

 “You know, it would be a lot faster if I just carried you.” Roman said as he kneeled down and placed his palm on the ground.

“You in a hurry or something?” Virgil asked, stepping down onto the floor.

 “Well, not exactly.” Roman admitted. “But still.”

Roman was correct, it would be faster. But Virgil didn’t want to become dependent on Roman, even if Roman wasn’t as awful as before. Virgil had to stay independent, or at least feel safe in the knowledge that he could be independent if he chose.

“I know.”  Virgil shrugged, beginning the trek to the door.

 Roman sighed but stood up and watched Virgil walk. He turned to Patton with a smile. “See ya later Pat.” 

 “Bye Roman.” Patton said with a small smile of his own. Roman then turned back and headed towards the door to hold it open for Virgil.

“...thanks.” Virgil muttered, trying not to flinch at the way the floor shook when Roman walked or get discouraged by how easily Roman covered the same distance. Not to mention, Virgil couldn’t have opened the door on his own. Maybe it wasn’t completely possible to be independent. He walked through the doorway, keeping his head down.

 Roman waited a little bit before following Virgil. He moved so he was walking next to the human. Although, he was only taking a step every, about, 20 seconds. It was kind of annoying but he wasn’t about to complain.

“...where am I going?” Virgil paused at his first fork in the road, realizing he didn’t actually know where Roman’s room was; everything looked the same in the hallways, too.

 Roman chuckled. “Just keep going straight down this hallway, turn right and you’re there.”

“Right, okay.” Virgil continued down the hall, speed walking to try and hurry along. He felt embarrassed about the way Roman had to lollygag behind him, feeling Roman watching him.

 Roman was trying his best to watch out for Virgil but even he didn’t have a chance to react as a dog came bounding down the hallway and right towards them.