#and if they don’t then i’m sure someone at least perceives them to…

[ellstersmash]

Prompt time! Solas and Athi discuss at length if the other would love them as a worm. Please and thank you 🙏

rare and marvelous

Fandom: Dragon Age Pairing: Solas x f!Lavellan Rating: G for General now illustrated :')

-

“Are you comfortable in that form?”

Athi’s voice cuts into the quiet of the Fade and Solas’ own silent musings, the path they’re currently on less twisting, and therefore less mentally demanding, than most.

“This form?” he responds. “Or do you refer to another?”

“You know, most people don’t have to specify that.”

“I believe we can agree that I am not most people.”

Athi’s features scrunch together in amusement as she most certainly prepares to tease him—her favorite pastime, not that the Fade provides much of a variety from which to choose. “So true,” she says, the sing-song notes of it echoing in the shifting emptiness around them. “You’re very special.”

“Your approval of my circumstances is paramount,” he states dryly. “Which form are you currently curious about?”

“Your new—or, well, old—spirit form. It’s very… tendrily.”

Solas chuckles. “I can say with great confidence that I have never before been accused of being ‘tendrily.’”

“Love that we’re still finding firsts. Don’t you?” Athi nudges him with an elbow. The self-satisfied smile on her face makes its own light, her playfulness a beacon in the dull dark of this domain.

“You are right,” he says, “and I should hardly be surprised that you are still able to surprise me.”

“Or maybe you should be surprised by my surprising you, otherwise it’s not much of a surprise, is it? But back to my question: do you like to hang around as your tendrily spirit-self?”

“It is not so dissimilar to this one.”

“It floats.”

“Well, yes.”

“And you don’t have hands.”

Solas chuckles. “But many tendrils, as I’ve been recently informed. Besides, one does not need appendages to affect the Fade; only a capable mind and sufficient will.”

“Well, you need appendages to affect me,” Athi mumbles.

Solas grins over at her then, waiting until he catches her eye to lean closer, lower his voice, and ask, “Do I?”

She’s not the only one with the power to tease. It has the intended effect, of course: her eyes widen and unfocus for a few long moments, the air thickening with desire before she shakes it off.

“So is that a yes, then?” she asks.

“Yes, I am comfortable in that form, as I am comfortable in this one.”

“But not the wolf.”

This is not something he’s considered, and he takes his time answering. “The Dread Wolf was born of a specific need to threaten the evanuris and as a show of power and protection for those who would escape or oppose them. And, as you know, it takes a great deal of energy to maintain. I would not call it ‘comfortable’ by any stretch of the definition.”

“Cute, though.”

Solas rolls his eyes at her flippancy. “I refuse to dignify that statement with a response.”

“That is a response.” But she takes his hand and squeezes, warmth diffusing into Solas’ chest as her affection washes over him in gentle waves.

Some time later, it occurs to him to wonder why she brought this subject up in the first place. “Are you comfortable with my spirit form, Athi?”

“I mean, sure. It’s just new. And it is different, at least to me. Not as solid.”

“Different in a bad way?”

“No. I mean, yes in some ways. Harder to kiss you, for one thing.” She squeezes his hand again. “Also I’m never really sure which eyes to look into.”

“In truth, that form does not have eyes, or even sight in the way you’d experience it.” 

Athi looks up at him, a vacant expression which he can only classify as bewilderment on her face.

“There are other senses which allow me to perceive the world,” he continues. “Ones which are very difficult to explain to someone who cannot experience them, but rest assured that I know where you are and what you are doing, whether in spirit form or this one.”

“That clears things up less than I think you think it does.”

“I am sorry. Perhaps you might simply choose your favorite ‘eye’ with which to maintain contact as we converse.”

“Right, I’ll give that a go.” 

“Does it truly bother you? Does it change your opinion of me?”

Athi stops short, her hand still clasped in his tugging him to a halt in turn. “What? No, it doesn’t ‘bother’ me. It’s just different. And I have to be different with it.”

“But I am still…” He is unsure how to ask the right question, but feels it imperative that he discover the answer. “I am still Solas, to you? Even when I wear that form?”

“Who else would you be?”

“Does it change how you feel about me? Your—” It is still so hard for him to accept the concept that even forming the word is a challenge. “Your love for me?”

“Oh.” Athi’s whole being relaxes on a sigh and a soft smile. She lifts his hand to her lips and kisses two of his knuckles. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing can change that.”

“Well. That is a relief. Thank you.”

They continue along their path, but the quiet hardly has time to settle back in when Athi speaks again.

“Solas?”

He hums an acknowledgement.

“If I were in a different form, would you still love me?”

The answer is obvious, but he entertains the subject. “Temporarily?”

“No, I think permanently.”

“Of course I would. It is your spirit that I adore—though I am fond of your form as well.”

She laughs brightly. “Good answer! But what if it was really different? Like a fish? Or a worm? What if you woke up one day and I was a worm?”

“Is your spirit intact within this worm?”

“Let’s say yes.”

“Then yes, I would still love you. And I would learn to love your worm form in time.”

“Okay.” She’s silent long enough that he thinks the matter dropped, then: “But what if my spirit was changed, too? What if I had a worm spirit now?”

“That would be an impossibility.” Even more impossible than the premise, but he keeps that to himself. “If your spirit was no longer yours, but a worm’s, then there would be no you within it. I would cherish your memory into eternity, and leave the worm to live out its life.”

Athi gasps and stops again, dropping his hand to match her other one on her hip. “You would leave me?!”

“It would not be you, vhenan. It would be a worm.”

“But I would be the worm!”

“You’re not the worm. Without your spirit, the worm is just a worm.”

“What if I was always the worm?”

She appears genuinely distressed, and Solas isn’t sure he can reason his way out of a conversation this ridiculous. “Then we likely would never have met. You would not love me either.”

“You don’t know that!”

Solas sighs heavily, cradling his temples in one hand. “I fear we’ve stepped out of the incredibly hypothetical discussion we began and into a deeper one.”

Athi starts ahead without him. “You’ve certainly stepped into something.”

[notshphnxx]

me trying to write a uquiz result in a way that would work for literally everyone:

You exist. Whether you want to or not, you still do. Or at the very least, other people perceive you as someone who exists. Who knows… maybe you don’t actually exist. That’s up to you to figure out.

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I’ve been forced into reading Danny phantom fanfics because I’m desperate for Billy Batson content and for some reason half the stuff on ao3 is crossover stuff so I guess I like Danny phantom now?? Kind of?? I haven’t watched it and I don’t plan on it but I really like the idea of it.

Anywho,

Billy has maintained a very delicate balance of half truths and lies of ommision over the years to protect his identity as a literal child. He uses facts he learned from his patrons and his interest and knowledge in history, specifically Ancient Greece, to convince people he’s ancient.

Then one day this ghost guy joins the league claiming to be incredibly old as well except he just goes around straight up lying about stuff, saying whatever the hell he feels like about the past if it’s convenient to him or just funny. Most of it contradicts with the story Billy has been delicately weaving over the years and he’s kind of panicking.

One day he confronts the ghost guy and is like “I know your not actually ancient but I’m not a snitch, how old are you?”

And Danny kind of feels bad about pretending to be ancient in front of someone who has literally been around since at least Ancient Greece and confesses that he’s 14. Captain Marvel stares at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a big grin and transforming into a 12 year old Billy. They instantly become inseparable.

You’d think that Billy would ask Danny to stop lying all the time because it’s gonna get them caught, but no, he thinks it’s hilarious. Now whenever Danny says something absurd or directly contradictory of the actual history that Billy told them, they’re just like “oh yeah both of those happened at the same time but all the scribes were at the same spot so no one wrote about the other one and it was lost to time” or “there was a time loop for a good few years back in good old Greece so a lot of weird things happened that just didn’t stick.” Or “that did happen but only ghosts could perceive it.” Or sometimes, if they absolutely cannot get away with any other explanation, “dang must have dreamt it!”

The league is hopelessly confused and 90% sure they’re being messed with but they have no proof and if they look at the history at least MOST of the stuff they say is true so there’s really no reason to doubt it when Danny claims he once fist fought the god of time while the entirety of Rome cheered for him and placed bets, especially when Billy nods sagely and says he remembers having to clean up the space time continuum after the fight and that he lost the modern equivalent of ten bucks in the bet (he still doesn’t lie, just doesn’t disagree with the blatant dishonesty. He honestly did have to clean up the space time continuum multiple times after Danny messes with time a bit too much thanks to Clockwork + shenanigans. They make bets all the time too lol)

I think the contrast between ‘never lies’ and ‘lies all the time for funsies’ with the same motivation of ‘do the funniest thing possible at all times’ can be extremely entertaining and interesting.

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 29: edging | Jegulus

“No, Y/N, that’s not the correct answer.” You huffed, pouting. You loved the fact that you were younger than your two boyfriends most of the time, you loved how protective they got, you loved being the centre of their attention; what you didn’t love was being tutored by them. They were the most amazing partners in the world most of the time, but when it came to prepare you for a test, they became unsufferable. It surely didn’t help that your attention span was the one of a ten years old when it came to studying.

“Jamie, please, I’m so tired” You made him puppy eyes, knowing that Regulus wouldn’t let you relax until you finished all of your work.

“No, baby, you have to finish this.”

“But I already know everything, it’s not fair!”

Regulus raised a brow at you, making you slightly panic: he wasn’t the one to raise his voice, his calmness was way more intimidating. “Okay, baby, if you’re so sure about it, we will play a game. We’re going to test you on all the material we’ve taught you today. At the end, you will be edged for each mistake you made”

You widened your eyes, knowing that you’ve royally fucked it up. You mumbled something, but they both ignored you, getting started on discussing together the question they would have asked you.

“Reggie, you’re right, maybe we should go over the material once again, just to be sure?” Your voice sounded dangerously close to begging, but you would have done anything to not participate in that sick game.

“Come on now, love, you insisted you knew everything. Don’t underestimate your knowledge! It’s just a little test, now be quiet and stay still” You huffed, trying to steal some glances at the notes they had splayed in front of them, only for James to cover them up, winking at you.

You sat there for a while, gnawing at your lower lip, cursing yourself for behaving like a brat. You knew what the consequences were, so why did you insist on making them mad?

“Okay, baby, are you ready?”

“No, I made a mistake, can we just start over-“

“Which plant produces Stinksap?” James winked at you. You tried to search for the answer, knowing damn well it was all for nothing, your mind blank.

“V-Venomous tentacula? No, no wait it’s Mandrake? No-”

“The answer is incorrect, it was Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Next”

“I was about to say that! You interrupted me, fucking-“

“If you were to heal some wounds, which plant would you use?” Regulus was sporting a blank expression, and you knew you were royally fucked.

“Wormwood” You were sure about this, a 100%. It wasn’t one chance in hell it was wrong, you knew this one-

“It’s Dittany” James gave you a pitiful expression, you huffed your cheeks, straightening up a bit: if you were going to loose this sick game, you would have least kept your pride doing so.

“I give up, please, stop asking questions” They had already tested you on four questions, and you only got one right. They exchanged a pointed look.

“Okay, we’re going to stop here. Now we will teach you a lesson, and tomorrow you will sit down and behave, you will be studying for this test because there is no chance in hell you’re going to fail this, I refuse to be perceived as someone who doesn’t know how to properly tutor just because you’re behaving like a brat.” Regulus raised a brow at you as you were going to reply, actively shutting you up. “Now, take off all of your clothes and lay down on the bed”

You scrambled to do so, knowing it wasn’t the time to question Regulus. Once you were sprawled on the bed like he instructed, they both circled you. James’s hand circled your neck, squeezing softly, while your other partner held a rabbit vibrator in his hand.

“We will edge you for three times, baby. You aren’t allowed to come if we don’t say so, so don’t even try to disobey us, understood?”

“Understood” As soon as you said the word, Regulus head disappeared between your thighs. You felt his warm lips on your knee, tracing your inner thigh with his warm tongue, making you shiver from head to toe. He reached your mound, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on top of your panties, making you gasp.

James chuckled, nipping at your earlobe. “Love, I think you should hold back a bit” You refrained from whining, not wanting to worsen the situation you were in.

Regulus calloused fingers took off your panties, smirking at your wetness. He entered you with his index finger, slowly pulling it out afterwards, entering you once again.

“Look how wet she is, do you love being punished, darling?” You shook your head, eyes closed, as you tried your best to hold back, to not be affected by your boyfriend’s ministrations. “No? Then why are you this wet, love?”

You bit back a bratty remark, you had a hate-love relationship with your punishment. Yes, they could be really fun, and you usually enjoyed the aftercare, but it was really hard for you to be soft and pliant, and they knew this all too well.

He teased your clit with his thumb, meanwhile James started kissing you, his movement slow and calculated, making your head spin with the stimulation.

As you were about to come, they stopped any movement, making you whine.

“That’s one, love, you did so good” Reggie kissed your thigh, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him when he behaved like this.

He lowered his head on your core, making you gasp, as he started to stimulate you once again. “Fuck, Regulus”

James opened your shirt, his fingers working the buttons quickly, then opening the frontal clasp of your bra. “You’re so gorgeous” He breathed out, looking mesmerized.

“You see ‘em… fuck” You crossed your eyes as Regulus sucked on your clit. “Everyday”

“They’re always so pretty” He sucked on your nipple as Regulus sped up the rhythm of his sucking. You looked down, admiring how his black curls created a sinful contrast with your skin; he raised his gaze, winking at you.

In the back on your mind you knew that you weren’t allowed to come, problem was that you didn’t care anymore. You wished they forgot about the punishment, but obviously, they didn’t.

As soon as they heard the changing of the tone of your moans, they stopped altogether, making you whine.

“Please, fuck, just let me come” Your clit felt almost raw, you felt on the verge of crying.

“No, honey, we said you were going to be edged three times and that’s what’s going to happen. If you behave we might let you finish afterwards”

He positioned the rabbit vibrator inside of you with one swift thrust, James kept on sucking and nipping at your nipples: it took you an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to be on the verge of coming.

When they didn’t let you come once again, you sniffled. You actually felt the urge to cry, to let out all of the frustration you built up over this punishment.

James softened his gaze, and so did Regulus. “You were so good for us, honey, we’re going to make you come now, okay?”

You nodded, Regulus started fingering you once again, this time his movements were much softer. James massaged your breasts in his hands, his thumb flicking your nipple here and then, keeping his movements gentle and controlled.

In no time you reached your peak, and as you exploded around your boyfriend fingers, they sweet talked you through it.

Once you came down from your high, they moved like a well-oiled machine, cleaning you up while simultaneously praising you, trying their best to keep you as grounded as possible.

taglist: @consciouscarrot @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @remussbitch @sammyreid

[socaltickle5]

Not sure who amongst you tickling/kink friends needs to hear this right now…Please Reblog and comment if you feel inclined and agree! Maybe your interaction with this post will reach and help someone in need in our great Tickling Community!! At the very least, hopefully it will help warmly welcome any new/exploring community member!!

But, in a recent conversation with one of my favorite people from the tickling/kink community (who I care deeply about), she told me that she was a lurker for a long time because of fears and inhibitions she built up about immersing herself in the community and her tickling desires. Those fears were:

1- Of herself, and how she’d be perceived/desired within the community. From her attraction, to her laugh/smile, to her ticklishness and others, there was fears of how she was to be perceived.

2- The safety aspect and the general ‘stranger danger’

3- If there are actually any humans that she could have an organic connection she needs from a potential play partner within the community.

4- Just the myriad of unknown scenarios when entering a kink community.

5- Fear of rejection

I’m here to say all of that is okay! That’s human nature to find comfort and safety in protecting yourself from the unknown! You are validated in your feelings, and validated in any approach you take towards your participation level within the community! I myself was VERY overwhelmed with anxiety and shame and fear of the unknown! I felt a ton of shame and taboo about my tickling kink/Dom desires! I felt those feelings over a decade ago (when I first decided to participate), and those fears and inhibitions and anxieties will never be forgotten by me because of how real/deeply I felt them!! I felt all 5 of those fears I listed above!

But, I’m also here to say that I’ve personally never felt happier than when I took that leap! I had to put aside my inhibitions and fears! Our inner peace is everything, and I felt most balanced and proud of myself for allowing my desires to be explored! All of us GET the privilege of being DESERVING of our own happiness! And, with that comes the fact that we are all WORTHY of exploring our desires without shame!! There’s no right or wrong way to enter or approach the tickling community other than what works for YOU!

Through many messages on tumblr/fetlife/reddit and other kink social medias, I’ve been told endlessly over the years about these same scenarios/fears/inhibitions that are preventing someone from their own desires. I know many of my followers on here are struggling with those same feelings currently. YOU DO YOU! And, when you embrace your desires on your own time and at your own comfort level, I’m sure you’ll be proud of yourself as well! And, the best part is, the majority of this community will welcome you with open arms! I, for one, am happy to talk with anyone (no minors) if any of you need comfort, or just someone to talk about all of this with! I admittedly don’t have all the answers, but I am coming from a place of experience and shared feelings/concerns.

Please, always prioritize safety and vetting as well! You cannot allow your enthusiasm for play to mask 🚩 that pop up with potential partners! PROTECT YOURSELF!

To sum this all up, YOU ARE WORTHY OF YOUR OWN HAPPINESS. We cannot control or change the past! Nor can we worry about what we’ve missed out on. You’re the author of the next chapter of your own life, I encourage you to write it your own way with your inner peace and happiness as the focus of the plot!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Why did they change Fellow’s and Gidel’s name for EN but not Rollo’s? So weird you’d think they’d at least be consistent and change all the names or none at all.

[Referencing this post!]

hchfxbjsbajCgwhq Deep breaths, everyone 😅 Deeeeeeep breaths…

I know a lot of us might be displeased with the name changes (moreso with Fellow’s than with Gidel’s) but let’s remember that, at the end of the day, they’re just names. They’re not erasing the original names, they’re not changing the context of the event story, and no one will force you to use the new names if you don’t want to. Your feelings are valid, but please be mindful about how you express them (because unfortunately I fear it can very easily veer into insulting or talking down to the localization/the localization team or fans who don’t mind/actually like the name changes 💦 It is partly for this reason that I did not include the other asks I received on this topic, as they could be needlessly inflammatory).

That being said, here are my thoughts on the matter: initially, I didn’t like the names. My automatic thought was that they sound like a corny 4Kids dub where they changed the Obviously Japanese Name (ex: Ichigo) to something Very Western (ex: Zoey). However, I’ll also be the first to admit that I also initially found the Japanese names odd because who names their kid FELLOW?? It’s like naming someone Person. I’m used to it now, but it definitely took me weeks and weeks to consider “Fellow Honest” a full name.

I’ve seen some people say that Fellow and Gidel’s names are meant to be silly sounding (and so the localized names are actually fitting), but I don’t agree with that sentiment. To my knowledge, no one in-universe ever laughs at their names or says they’re out of place. If the names were intended to be perceived as silly, there would be remarks indicating this. For example, “Tsunotaro”/“Hornton” IS silly because characters make explicit mention of how strange the nickname is. This is not true of Fellow and Gidel, so I don’t believe their names are supposed to be unserious.

I’ve also seen a lot of people poking fun at “Ernesto Foulworth” because “it sounds like such an obvious name for a scammer”. And yeah, maybe that’s true depending on who’s looking at it. I get where people are coming from. Buuut to play devil’s advocate, “Fellow Honest” invokes similar vibes. Both names have that element of honesty/earnest, but “Fellow” is more of a “John Doe” or generic name whereas “FOULworth” sounds bad since we associate the word foul with negativity. Essentially, both names are shady in their own ways but “Ernesto Foulworth” gets more flack because foul triggers an automatic negative association whereas fellow is more neutral.

So then I sat with the localized names for a little longer and the changes started to make a little more sense. To me, both sound very Italian, which fits given that Pinocchio has Italian origins. Additionally, “Ernesto” looks and sounds like “earnest”, which refers to being truthful. His surname, “Foulworth”, may be a reference to Honest John’s full name? Worthington Foulfellow. (I have no insights for Gino, unfortunately… other than making him “match” Fellow’s name better since they’re a pair?)

In all honesty (heh) though, I still don’t really like the new names even considering that context. I’ll probably keep calling them by their Japanese ones. I’ll never be a fan of any name changes because it means I have to go back and edit the tags on ALL my related posts, lol

Side note: shoutout to all the folks saying the names sound Ace Attorney-esque, how you think of Ernesto de la Cruz from Coco, and/or joking about how the EN names are Fellow and Gidel’s fake identities/aliases while they’re on the run from the cops 😭 I laughed too hard reading those comments cbwhebjzbwiwhwlek

Now, I’m not sure why the names were changed considering that names prior have largely been unchanged (Cheka, Marja, Najma, Rollo, etc.), save for maybe some spelling changes (Meleanor -> Maleanor, Baul -> Baur, Farena -> Falena, Leven -> Raverne, etc.). The only huge exception to this is Kifaji, who became Neji in EN. Here’s some theories and speculation going around in the fandom about Fellow and Gidel’s changes:

Copyright issues???? For example, you can’t really trademark “Fellow” and “Honest”, but you could maybe trademark “Ernesto Foulworth”. (This doesn’t explain Gino’s name or why they couldn’t trademark “Fellow Honest”.)

Another interpretation of copyright issues theory is that there’s weird legal stuff happening between Aniplex and Disney (international), which forced the name changes. (I think this one assumes a lot of tight regulations and hinges on how litigious big corpos and especially Disney are when it comes to “protecting” their brand and properties.)

Some have suggested that “Fellow Honest” is noun-adjective word order, which is uncommon in English. In “Ernesto Foulworth”, the first name looks and sounds like the adjective “earnest”, meaning the adjective(s) come first, which is more common in English. (This theory is a little incomplete though; there is no noun in the localized name to complete the thought. Additionally, Japanese also usually goes with the adjective-noun rule, so “Fellow Honest” would be an unusual name for JP too. And again, no explanation for Gino.)

… ITALIAn REP BABY 🇮🇹

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 1.3k w.c. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au-ish :3 ﾉ just some rindou lovin' ﾉ repost!

it’s been a while since you've been out with your friends. can you really call them that, though? they are classmates at the very least, ones that feel compelled to invite you to their gatherings. it’s thoughtful, you’ll give them that, but part of you wishes they didn’t. maybe the outing is just boring or maybe they have all grown dull, but either way, it’s easy to zone out in their presence. their chatter seems distant. you don’t even really know what they’re talking about—something regarding everyone’s plans for this saturday.

“what about you?” the girl beside you nudges your ribs to gain your attention—and it works. the jab is surprisingly painful given how small she is. “can you make it?”

“sorry, i already have plans with someone else.”

“aww,” she whines at your answer, “who are you hanging out with? maybe they can tag along.”

“rindou.”

all the idle chatter at the table stops upon the mere utterance of his name. suddenly, all eyes are on you. he’s popular, but not for the right reasons. not many people are fond of him. and you never minded that, but the people who dislike him don’t just dislike him; they’re afraid of him. so although you have no problem associating yourself with him, you’ve learned quickly that bringing him up around others often leads to unsavory reactions. you slipped up at this moment.

“you mean… haitani rindou?”

“mhm.” you’re aware of the common consensus when it comes to rindou and what people think of him, but you want to test the waters and see how your peers perceive him. “why? what’s wrong with him?”

the replies flood in like a tsunami.

“he only hangs out with his brother and you know how much trouble ran is.”

“yeah, they’re total scumbags. i’m pretty sure they’ve almost gotten arrested—and on multiple occasions at that.”

“you’re perfectly capable of surrounding yourself with better company. why on earth would you want to be seen with him?”

“that’s really none of your concern.” the last comment strikes a nerve and causes you to raise your voice. shocked eyes accompanied by gaping mouths stare at you in surprise. you don’t know why you expected their responses to be any different. everyone jumps to the same conclusion and they aren’t an exception. their feelings about him are crystal clear. if they think so poorly of him, they have no place in your life. “and i’d rather not talk to you guys if you’re going to continue to speak about him like that. i’m leaving now.”

and with that, you stand up, collect your things, and start on your way home.

• • •

rindou is in the kitchen when you walk through the door. a head of blonde hair sits at the small table, slurping up ramen noodles. the steam wafting from the bowl leaves the lenses of his gold-framed glasses foggy. your keys clatter when they meet the ceramic of the dish that holds little things like chapstick and mini box cutters. the noise grabs rindou’s attention, his gaze abandoning his food in favor of looking at your figure that approaches to take a seat next to him. he didn’t think he would see you back so soon; it felt like you had just left. but he doesn’t say a word, instead, offering you the noodles hanging from his chopsticks. you lean forward to accept the mouthful of spicy ramen. every other bite of what remains in the bowl is reserved for you.

you stay attached to his hip for the rest of the day; helping him wash the dishes even though it’s your least favorite chore, sitting in his lap and snuggling into his neck as he boots up his computer to play who knows what game with his friends—you even go as far as getting comfortable on the lid of the toilet while he takes his shower for the night. it isn’t unusual for you to take care of his hair once he emerges from the steamy room, combing out the tangled strands of blonde and blue before pulling out the hair dryer. after the locks are fluffy and dry, his hair sits in a neat bun on the top of his head. the only pieces that escape are the ones not quite long enough to be tied up with the rest.

you wonder if your actions came off as overbearing; not that you would care if they did. the conversation from earlier reminded you of how poorly people regarded your boyfriend. someone has to love him when everyone else thinks so little of him, and you’re more than happy to be that person.

and you’re content at the moment, practically lying on top of him, your fingers tracing each curve of the black ink tattooed into his skin. you can feel the thumping of his heart, hear the rhythmic beat of it in your ear.

“what’s wrong?” rindou speaks up out of the blue. so then he had noticed the shift in your behavior.

“what do you mean?” you feign ignorance. you know rindou was fully aware of his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to shield him from the harshness of others.

“you’re even clingier than usual.”

“i’m not clingy,” you mumble against his chest.

“mm, yeah, you are.” he pinches your cheek that isn’t pressed against him. it doesn’t hurt but you look up at him regardless. lilac eyes peer down at you. the blank expression on his face may not show it, but his gaze is enough to tell you that he’s concerned. “are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

rindou isn’t the type to push you, to make you tell him something you aren’t ready to tell. if you told him you didn’t want to talk about it, you were sure he’d let it go. but since it’s weighing so heavily on your mind, maybe it is best to share. “i brought your name up in front of some classmates and they said some pretty rude stuff about you.”

he snorts as if what you were worried about was silly. and to him, it is. it doesn’t bother him—the wandering eyes, the hushed whispers, the anxious avoidance. everything that you seem to be hyperaware of is the norm for rindou. and he can understand why it upsets you, he wouldn’t want people speaking ill of you, but he’s accustomed to his bad reputation. “i thought i told you not to let stuff like that get to you. you know i don’t give a shit about what people think.”

“well, i do.” maybe you shouldn’t, not to the extent you do, anyway. but after getting to know rindou, the real rindou, you can’t help but feel offended when people reduce him to nothing more than a no-good criminal. sure, he isn’t a saint, but he’s far from evil. what gave them the right to form opinions when they only got a glimpse of one side of him? “they shouldn’t get to judge you if they don’t even know you.”

he lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh, the breath heaving from his chest causing your head to raise. though, not long after, his lips find their way to your hairline, pressing a light kiss to the skin. his hand runs up and down your arm, “it doesn’t matter how often i tell you, huh?”

“nope.” you shamelessly reply. you’ll never stand for people demeaning the man you’ve come to love.

“how stubborn,” he clicks his tongue. it’s clear that this was a matter he won’t be able to change your mind on. of course, he doesn’t care what people think about him, but seeing you so protective of him and his image is oddly endearing. “so what, are you my defender or something?”

“mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes drift shut, “now and always.”

thanks for reading! pls consider reblogging or commenting if u enjoyed :3

[candyk0rn]

Hey, can I request a break up with Nanami, Gojo, and Geto? I'm in a mood for angst :')

⚘Breakup⚘

Woah okay first time I’ve ever written smth like this so I’m excited! Thanks for the ask, have a good day/night!

Warnings: ummm breaking up with someone is sad y’all

Included: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru

G.Satoru:

Fights or arguments don’t really happen with Gojo

Because he doesn’t let them happen

When things get even the slightest bit heated, he avoids them

He erases them with clinginess and jokes, always brushing it off when he should definitely be serious

And this is one of many things that drew your relationship to its inevitable end

Not only was it his lack of ability to read the room, but also his dangerous job

With the privilege of being considered the ‘strongest’, that means the strongest enemies are after him as well

You cannot begin to count the amount of times he said he’d leave for a three day mission, only to be gone for an entire week with no further communication

There’s a large risk at hand with being even so much as associated with Gojo

Let alone being his romantic partner

A certain bounty has been placed on your head too, you’re sure.

And that is just dusting against the surface of the cracks that eventually took control of your relationship

And to be honest, he doesn’t take the break up that serious either

Not until you stop returning your calls and haven’t come home for a few hours

Maybe it’ll make him realize, but who knows?

N.Kento:

Nanami is tricker than Gojo.

But in some regards, I believe he’s very similar

For Nanami is perceived, at least, to be a ‘simple’ man

For someone who hates work, who would much rather go on a long vacation,

He takes his occupation extremely seriously

Both his normal income job and his sorcerer work

And sometimes you truly felt he held his job before you, his partner

And sometimes, he would openly admit to taking priority elsewhere than with you

Which, in some cases understandable, still hurts

One time, later in your relationship, he has forgotten your anniversary

Well, he hadn’t forgotten it fully

But he didn’t celebrate in anyway, needing his hours at work

Nor did he intend to celebrate in anyway, even though much earlier to the date you told him you would like to

Unlike Gojo, the breakup is rather smooth

He simply and utterly refuses to leave on a bad note

And he will not only leave in good terms, but he wants to leave respectfully

But he will be in shock for a very long time afterwards

And he doubts the feeling of deep regret will leave anytime soon…

G.Suguru:

I don’t think people really recognize how others are affected when someone begins to spiral

Not only is the person who is going through the hard time hurting and being drained, the person helping is drained too

And unfortunately, this is what happened to yours and Geto’s relationship

Seeing someone you care for so deeply begin this downward trajectory is hard

And you swore to be by his side through it all..

Until he began to do some things you didn’t exactly approve of

Once the count of dead began rising by his hand, you found yourself losing sympathy bit by bit

It’s a hard pill to swallow, it’s a difficult thing to accept

And it’s an even worse thing to end

To hang on to the hope that the old Suguru is simply trapped behind a mask of pain would be futile

It’s either accept unfortunate route his travelled down, or follow in your own beliefs

And even though you once thought you could help him wash his hands clean of blood,

There will always be a spot left unattended

And spots only grow until you no longer see skin

Only red.

He doesn’t actually believe you at first when you bring up leaving him

In fact, he says to your face he doesn’t believe you

Like Gojo, he assumes that after you calm down you’ll be running back to him

But you don’t

And there’s very few times he’s felt regret.

He has done everything in his power to make sure the word isn’t even in his vocabulary

But there’s that sting in his heart and that dizziness in his head

That can only be described as loss.

Thanks for reading!

[moodymisty]

What kind of nicknames/titles do you think each Primarch's wife would get?

There's some that all the wives share, just adjusted to fit with their husband. Lady of [primarch's planet]. Lady of the [Legion name]. And if the primarch is one with a last name, she uses her husband's last name. (Lady Guilliman, Lady Lupercal, Lady Aurelian, etc)

But most/all of the wives would have nicknames/titles unique to them.

Magnus's wife could be called the Red Lady.

Konrad's wife could be called Lady of the Night, but that's also an euphemism for a prostitute, so maybe not. I don't think any Primarch, especially Konrad, would like someone else calling their wife a slut.

Since the Primarchs presumably didn't know about Alpharius and Omegon being twins, they probably assume Omegon is Alpharius's last name. So their shared wife would be called Lady Omegon, which would please the actual Omegon greatly. He may only be able to be with her in public as Alpharius, but she is his Lady. It's a way for both brothers to show their claim over her. She's Alpharius's wife, Lady Omegon.

If a Primarch has a title/nickname that's Lord of [X] or the [X] Lord (like Perturabo being the Lord of Iron), she could be called the Lady of [X]/the [X] Lady (Perturabo's wife being the Lady of Iron)

I added all the ones I think since i imagine that not all of them would use the same default titles. Other people feel free to add!

Lion El'Jonson:

Beginning of relationship: Woman, Lion’s woman

Farther into relationship: Lady of the Dark Angels, but it’s usually rarely

Roboute Guilliman:

Lady Guilliman, Lady of Macragge, Lady of the Ultramarines, Consort of the Lord Regent, she has a lot of titles and it bugs her greatly lol

Magnus The Red:

The Red Lady, Consort of The Crimson King

Rogal Dorn:

Lady Dorn, Lady of the Imperial Fists. Their titles are very practical and literal.

Ferrus Manus:

None in my opinion. Other legions might call her Manus’ lady simply for lack of anything else to say.

Perturabo:

Lady of Iron, but in my opinion yet another legion/primarch that doesn’t use a lot of titles. Half because Perturabo doesn’t let them even perceive her; Forrix once called her Perturabo’s bitch and he beat the man bloody. And then he called her bitch in private. He’s toxic.

Fulgrim:

This one I actually have no ideas! Fulgrim is my least touched upon primarch but I’m sure he’d have many titles for her, what do you guys think?

Vulkan:

Lady of Drakes, Lady/Mother of the Salamanders, My Lady, Mother, etc. Unlike the other legions they all really want to associate with her as a legion not just Vulkan

Corvus Corax:

Raven Mother, Lady Corax. Surprisingly uninspired.

Alpharius/Omegon:

When Alpharius talking it’s Lady Omegon, when it’s Omegon talking it’s just My Lady

Internally, Lady/Mother of the Hydra

Konrad Curze:

None really, Shang or Sevatar might call her Lady Curze as a demeaning joke, and other legions call her Lady of the Night Lords simply because she’s basically an unknown to them. In my opinion Curze actively hides her until he can no longer.

Sanguinius:

Lady or Lady Angel, Lady of Baal, Mother Angel later on

Lorgar Aurelian:

Lady Aurelian, Lady/Goddess of Colchis, Lady/Goddess/Mother of the Word Bearers. He really loves cramming goddess into her titles

Mortarion:

None that I can think of, other than the obvious

Jaghatai Khan:

This one I’m also not sure one, but I also don’t think Khan is a super title driven guy. Given he isn’t for himself either.

Leman Russ:

Wolf Mother, Den Mother, Lady/Mother of the Wolves, Russ’ bitch

Horus Lupercal:

Lady Lupercal, and that's probably it. Horus jokingly tried to get his Mournival to call her Princess Lupercal once and she tried to smack him.

Angron:

none really. I HC that their relationship is too unknown to title, and so any formal interactions usually just hesitantly call her Lady or Consort to Angron, since that’s the closest descriptor.

[miguelhugger2099]

Day Two

Summary: You kept all the love you had to yourself for safe keeping. Until Miguel comes along. A/N: did i forget to make more valentine oneshots? yes and what about it Miguel x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Drabble

After failed relationship and another failed relationship, you began to think that maybe love just wasn’t in your cards. Maybe you were always meant to love instead of be loved. It was hard accepting that. You coped with it as much as you could but in the deepest part of your heart you hoped someone could prove you wrong just this once. You’d look in the mirror and try to find something of yourself that someone could find beautiful but you always came up short. The pain was still there, a dull ache that served as a reminder that no matter what you changed about yourself, it was never enough to make them stay. So you stopped trying and you stopped hoping. You lived your life day to day, doing small things that you like and any ounce of your heart speeding up at seeing a stranger was quickly demolished for the safety of your feelings. So that’s why even when the handsome and tall stranger sat across from you at the cafe, you tried not to pay any mind to him. You ignored the way your heart leaped when his foot accidently bumped into yours, his deep voice murmuring a soft apology. You ignored the next few times where you’d sit at your usual spot and he'd sit right across from you either with a laptop, a book or a phone in his hand. You ignored how he always sat with you silently even when other tables were open. You ignored how he eventually ordered the same drink you got every time as if wanting to try it. You ignored how sometimes, he’d be there before you, sitting up straighter when you sat in front of him. You ignored it until you couldn’t. After a long hour of silence, he puts his book down and taps the table to get your attention. “I’m sorry,” He says. “I’ve been thinking you’re very pretty and I’d like to get to know you.” At first you’re repulsed. Not at him, but how he perceives you as worthy enough to know. You don’t understand it. He sees your reluctance and pulls away. “Unless you wouldn’t want to.” Your heart strains in the same ache as before. You don’t want to be cold, you don’t want to be seen as rude or mean because of your guarded heart–not anymore. You yearn for companionship despite your mind screaming at you not to. It’s dangerous. “Okay. Sure.” You speak softly, not used to being approached in a romantic manner in so long. You continue with your naive hoping. Maybe this time it will hurt less.

At first you were awkward with him and he was awkward with you. It seemed like neither of you knew how to start this relationship other than initial attraction. You learned his name was Miguel and that he was studying to be a geneticist at Alchemax. You were fairly good at science, not at his level but you tried to keep up which made him chuckle. You worried you said something stupid but he assured you that you were just cute trying. He invited you to spend a day in the town, just to walk around and maybe buy you things that you liked. You declined his offer, not wanting to come across as some gold digger when Miguel waves you off saying that he wanted to. You refused the entire day. Anything you wanted, you made sure he wasn’t at the register or at least held your card out first. You couldn’t risk him turning on you and claim that you spent all his money. Miguel noticed, of course. Despite your attempts at being more friendly, it wasn’t exactly romantical. That didn’t diminish his interest in you though. It only made him more curious. Who did this to you to make it seem like you couldn’t rely on anyone? So, when he led you to the playground just outside the town, in a park where others were walking dogs and running jogs, he offered you two seats at the swings. The sky was near its point of a sunset, blue slowly turning into an orange yellow that calms your mind. It was a little funny when you turned to face Miguel in his swing seat. His shoulders could barely fit between the chains that held it up and his knees were almost up to his chest. You giggled to yourself at the sight and he turned to give you a sheepish smile, a little embarrassed of how he was most definitely not fit for it.

It was a comfortable silence as you both swung gently just enough for a breeze to flow through. You don’t notice Miguel glance at your hands in your lap and how you’re trying not to pick at the skin at the corner of your fingernails. Miguel sighed and looked at his own lap, as squished as it was. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” He whispers softly. You turn your head slightly to see him in the corner of your eye. He pulls at his pant leg nervously. “I’m not used to…this romance stuff,” He glances up at you. “So I’m sorry if I’ve done anything wrong.” You feel your heart swell in the worst way possible. Your efforts to protect yourself had hurt someone else. “No,” You shake your head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just…I haven’t been on one in a long time either.” Miguel laughs through his nose. “Then I guess we’re both still kinda new to this,” He looks up to the sunset. It’s now an orange pink. “But I’m still sorry. My last relationship wasn’t great. Toxic behavior and all that. I felt like I couldn’t be me. And in some way, I’m still doing that even today with you. Trying to be someone I’m not by being overly…pushy about wanting you to be satisfied with me.” He murmurs. “I didn’t think you were pushy,” You explain, feeling your cheeks burn about opening up. “I’m not used to someone being kind to me because they want to. It’s more what I can offer or what kind of reaction they want out of me.” It’s silent for a while and you begin to think that you’ve messed up again. Talked too much, spilled too soon, you’ve ruined the image he’s had of you.

“I think…you deserved better,” Miguel says, turning to you and reaching for your pinky with his. “I’m still interested and I want to keep seeing you, if that’s okay.” He interlocks your pinkies together softly, giving you enough room to pull away. You feel the ache in your chest lifts just a little bit knowing he’s just as nervous and scared as you are but he still wants your heart even if it’s damaged. You gain the courage to let the love in your heart seep out to him and squeeze his pinky in yours. “Okay.” You smile at him and he mirrors it with his own. It won’t hurt less this time because you have a feeling with him it won’t hurt at all.

A/N: a little self indulgent w this one whew

[magpod-confessions]

(look at me go, not asking anonymously for once lol)

“the web is underrated” “the buried is underrated” “the dark is the most underrated” 

yes. you are right, i agree. but they are all underrated. none of the fears get the attention they deserve.

-the dark and the end are almost completely forgotten about due to their perceived simplicity.

-the buried, the flesh, the hunt, etc are so unexplored, no one bothers to look any deeper into them.

-the desolation is not just fire, but no one ever tries to represent it some other way.

-don’t get me started on the whole spiral-distortion thing (perhaps i will make this a future confession bc oh boy do i have a lot to say).

with all of them people seem to be scared of diverging from the explicit canon representations.

no one seems to care about the fears anymore. THE fears. you know, the one thing that makes tma so special? i’ve lost count of the number of times i’ve seen someone say “after listening to tma i can never look at things the same. i always categorise them by the entities”

that’s all they are treated as, categories. perhaps this is an odd way to describe horrific manifestations of our deepest fears, but i think they are beautiful concepts. i could spend hours thinking about each one and the ways they bleed into one another, i probably have. 

yeah, at this point smirke’s 14 are old news, but there are always new angles to explore. we saw that in season 5 of tma, and we are seeing it now in tmagp (though the fears are of course different). why did we stop talking about that? (i wasn’t actually on tumblr when tma was happening so idk. maybe no one ever cared) 

talk about the fears, put your ideas for unconventional statements or avatar or whatever out there, there’s an audience (me at least). say stuff about how different fears crossover, or some new aspect of one. “but surely people would have already said this at some point” respectfully, i don’t give a shit. if i come across mutliple posts analysing a similar aspect of the vast, i’m going to be fucking overjoyed. because much of the fears is up to intepretation, they have slightly different meanings to different people, so every single person’s interpretation adds value and adds something unique. i see a little of this, but not enough.

we should keep discussing the fears. i don’t know why we ever stopped.

(sorry this is so long and rambling, i hope you can see the points i’m trying to make.)

🗣️ i’d love to hear your thoughts on this

Literally this. Agree with all of it

Some things:

The Desolation can be natural disasters, including floods, storms and earthquakes. Water is just as destructive as fire

The Dark can be not knowing something. It overlaps with the eye yes, but it still counts

The Corruption is shown to be a response to loneliness, not the opposite of it. Its being so lonely you seek out community, no matter how dangerous it may be. Every single corruption statement has references to loneliness

The Spiral says its a liar, but its never done that, only changing your perception of reality to make what it says true. It is delusion not manipulation

The Slaughter is never portrayed outside of war, which is strange because sheer unhinged violence has so much variety

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight: Family Dinner

summary: nathan meets your sisters— alternatively, you get grilled by your family (nathan joins in of course).

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: this entire series is 18+, SIBLINGSSSSSS, talks of dating, bi!reader, teasing, food mention, mentions of caretaking/sick parent, kissing, nathan is so in love (so is reader)

wc: 1,465

an: back at it with these two again. i adore them. i love them. this is lowkey chaos. and nathan sort of fits in perfectly with her family’s chaos which i was expecting to struggle with a bit. thank you to @juneknight for always being there to listen and brainstorm, you’re too good to me!

in plain sight masterlist | tiana | planted | little hamlet

3 months post To Atomize

“If neither of you are ready he doesn’t have to come. But, he’s very excited to meet you.”

Emma and Phillipa are sat on the couch as you stand— more like pace— in front of them. You shouldn’t be nervous, it’s not like this is the first time they’ve met someone you’ve been involved with. Nathan isn’t just somebody is he though? Asshole boss turned slightly less asshole boyfriend. The word feels weird in your mouth, not just because 6 months ago you were calling him Mr. Bateman, but because he seems like so much more than that.

All of his talk of being obsessed, about being consumed, well you feel the same way. You aren’t sure that the term boyfriend really compasses that. But, who would you be to shut that down— saying it doesn’t feel right, or strong enough— when Nathan had the most smug, giddy look on his face when he called you his girlfriend for the first time?

“Oh my god, don’t be a chicken, we’re ready,” Phillipa gripes, leaning back against the couch to more easily fish her phone out of her pocket.

“Hey, don’t call me a chicken.”

“You’ve been dating Mr. Bateman forever,” She says, scrolling on her phone. “It’s been on Twitter.”

“Its been 6 months. Call him Nathan, he's not some stuffy old man.” You say. Well— he’s not old at least. “And please don’t mention Twitter, I’m perceived enough these days.”

Emma pipes up finally, “Phil says that’s a hella long time.”

You narrow your eyes at the older girl who’s giving your younger sister a similar look. “Phil says hella, does she?”

“Emma you swore you wouldn’t tell!”

“I didn’t! I used it in a sentence!”

“Okay, okay— we don’t yell at each other.. You’re both sure?”

“Yes!” They say together with different levels of eagerness, though they’re both excited.

You regard them with wary eyes. Nathan’s excited. They’re excited. Your nerves are certainly there, but you are too.

“Alright but I need you both to be on your best behavior. Be the sweet girls I know you are. And no more cussing. Either of you.”

—

Nathan’s been uncharacteristically quiet but you know that he’s just gathering information, feeling things out. But, Phillipa takes that as nerves and being the rebellious teenager that she is, she wants to have some fun.

She mixes up the pasta in front of her, examines it as she nonchalantly asks, “Nathan, where do babies come from?”

Nathan bites back a nervous laugh. “Don’t they teach you that in sex ed? I mean scientifically speaking it’s a bore but—“

“Nathan,” You grit out in warning, your eyes meeting his.

He gets the message straight away, going in for a different method of attack. “I could make a baby with my bare hands. Program it to never cry or eat, to sleep its 16 hours.”

Emma perks up. “Like a babydoll? Mine is broken.”

“Emma, a new doll is on your Christmas list. It's not broken, you just want the new one,” Phillipa says, reaching for the red pepper flakes.

“I could build her one that's better than anything you could buy on the market. Those things crap out, they malfunction.”

Your brow furrows as you look over at Nathan, this is not where you expected this conversation to go, though you’re not ungrateful. “You’re going to build my sister a doll?”

“Oh, please? Please, please, Mr. Bateman!”

“I told you to call him Nathan, Em.”

Phillipa leans in, “Hey, what about me? Emma gets a doll what do I get.”

“Nathan isn't here to give you thinks, Phil, he was just here to meet you.”

“That depends on what you like Philippa. I can do anything,” Nathan proclaims, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms.

“Nobody can do anything.”

“That was before you met me. Name it.”

“I’m gonna think of something super impossible.”

“I look forward to proving you wrong, Phil.”

Phil studies him for a moment, trying to decide if she’ll say what’s on her mind. “You’re cooler than anybody she’s ever dated.”

“Oh really?”

“Phil, please,” You plead, completely abandoning eating in turn for twirling your pasta anxiously.

Phillipa ignores completely ignores you, grinning at Nathan’s interest. “Yeah, the last guy she brought looked like Goofy and sounded like Mickey Mouse.”

“Mickey Mouse, huh? You into rats, sweetheart?”

“What about the lady with the curly hair? I liked her,” Emma says softly.

Nathan’s brows raise as he trains his gaze on you. “The lady?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Your sisters and Nathan grilling you— together. This was simultaneously the best and the worst idea. They had to meet of course, what with you being pretty sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Nathan. But did they have to gang up on you like a well choreographed dance? Especially on the first go of it.

“We were friends. How do you even remember her, Em, you were a toddler?” You look at her with eyes that say back off but she’s 7, in her own world, having a great time.

Nathan’s building her a babydoll for gods sakes.

Emma grins, “She always gave me candies.”

“Wait a fuc—“ He stops himself, mindful of your sisters, repeating with just as much shock as before, “a lady?”

“Friends,” You emphasis again.

“I literally caught you two kissing,” Phil says, rolling her eyes.

“Philippa—“

Nathan throws his head back, laughing loudly, “Not much of an explanation for that, is there honey?”

“It never went anywhere— not that I owe to any of you to explain,” You give all of them narrowed eyes, your face feeling hotter than the surface of the sun.

“They were all nice at least,” Philippa muses, twirling some pasta around her fork.

“Like I would bring home somebody that would be mean to either of you.”

“Phillipa says people say Nathan’s a jackass,” Emma announces before stuffing more garlic bread in her mouth.

You fix Phillipa with an icy look, and she quickly looks away, suddenly very interested in the basket of garlic bread in front of her. “When I told you to spend more time with your sister, that really did not include teaching her swear words.”

“I like swear words!” Emma protests.

Nathan leans in, smiling wide, eyes glittering mischievously, “Emma, so do I.”

You lean closer to Nathan, whispering, “Honey, you’re not helping.”

“Right. Lips zipping,” He whispers back, straightening up.

You turn back to your sisters. “Less swear words, more dinner. Or are you finished?”

“I’m finished. Can we have the brownies Phillipa made?”

“Of course, little one. Phillipa? Nathan?”

Phil just gives you a nod, while Nathan says, “All good, sweetheart.”

Dessert is much more mellow, and afterwards Nathan offers to do the dishes for you so that you can make sure your sisters get to bed alright. Once you’ve said goodnight to them, you return to your room. You find Nathan there, fingers tracing the trinkets and family heirlooms that sit on your desk.

You shut the door quietly behind you, “I told you they were…”

“Like you?” Nathan suggests, his mouth sitting in that smug grin.

You scoff. “Nosy. I’m not nosy.”

“You’re pretty fucking nosy.”

“Am not.”

“I didn’t say I disliked it about you honey, don’t get your panties in a twist,” He reaches for you, crowding you against the wall near your bed.

“My panties are untwisted, Nathan,” You say matter of factly, unimpressed with him.

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “Can I take them off then?”

“My sisters are down the hall, so is my mom,” You whisper, a little breathless and Nathan takes note of that.

“I thought you liked covering my mouth?” He asks, pulling away from your neck to wag his eyebrows at you. You stare up at him, eyes alight, mouth flat. He wants to kiss you until his brain melts out of his ears but digresses. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bateman,” You say, your voice a little exasperated though there’s a smile pulling at your lips. You detangle yourself from him, starting towards the door. “I’ll get you some towels to shower and check on my mom.”

“You’ll let me know if she’s up for company?” Nathan watches you deflate, sorry that he even asked. But, he’s eager to meet the woman who raised you. He wants to ask questions and know more about the both of you.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” You murmur.

“If not, I’ll just write her a note. You know I’m good for it,” He murmurs, nodding head towards the note he’d written you that sits on your nightstand. “Come back here. Please.”

When you cross the room to him, he pulls in close, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that makes you so dizzy you can’t remember that you were sad.

“What was that for?”

He raises a brow at you, “What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend whenever I want?”

“You and that word are really going strong?”

“You jealous?”

“Nathan, that would make a negative amount of sense, my love.”

He starts to kiss at your neck like before, using a little more teeth this time. “Oh that’s new. I like that. Say it again.”

“To the shower, Bateman.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333

[imaginedanvrs]

my demon gave me everything

part 4 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 5.2k

warnings: established kidnapping, abuse, power dynamics, degrading, strap on sex, manipulation

Natasha was proud of herself when she heard you cry behind the very much not soundproof door. For one, she liked how you looked when tears were streaming down your cheeks and she could imagine it picture-perfect just from the sound, it was too pretty of a sight not to have glowing in her head. For another thing, she had been worried she broke you too soon.

  The way you had let the redhead fuck you the night before was…different. None of the other girls had given in so quickly, not to mention been so soaked. You hadn’t even been with her a full twenty four hours and you were practically begging to have Natasha’s fingers inside you. She wasn’t necessarily disappointed in that because it had been quite the sight to be the first one to touch you, but if anything that should have made you even more wary about it. 

  The spy had wondered if perhaps your lack of experience with relationships and intimacy had made you too innocent, that you were so naive that the first sign of physical affection was one that you perceived as good. But then again, that hadn’t been your first impression. You had fought back only hours beforehand. Then the following morning, nothing. The numb look plastered across your face in the shower was one that Natasha only saw once she had completely broken someone down to nothing, void of all sense of self or hope. But you weren't wet so Natasha didn’t pursue, there was no fun in that for her. She much rather enjoyed making a woman wet so that they could be far more ashamed after. 

  Yet even after that, giving yourself to the Avenger and becoming so broken after, you still wanted to leave. She hadn’t gotten to you yet, she wasn’t sure why, but Natasha was glad of it. She had put a lot of work into getting you in that building with her, what a waste it would be if her fun was over so soon. She could only hope your turmoil lasted at least another month. It was hard to tell. Usually Natasha could precisely predict how long someone would last after the first day, but for you she just wasn’t sure.

  A single chime from Natasha’s phone pulled her from her thoughts, knowing what it meant before she even took a glance at her device. A brief message from Tony explained S.H.I.E.L.D were having some transportation issues and needed the Widow to assist them. The redhead sent off a confirmation text before putting out her cigarette and heading towards the bathroom where you were still sitting on the shower ledge. 

  You didn’t look up when Natasha opened the door and strolled in, observing the burn you were nursing with concern. So precious. “I’ve got to go out.” The redhead announced. You kept your attention on your leg. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be but if I’m not back by the evening don’t bother trying to make some dinner, most of the electricity is turned off when I’m not here.” She continued, you listened carefully to that but showed no signs of acknowledging. Natasha knew you heard. “There’s crackers if you get hungry.” She said finally as she walked away, leaving the door wide open so you could hear her retreating footsteps and the beeps of her unlocking and relocking the main door behind her. You figured you should at least try and get a general sense of her security system but knowing that so much power went out when she left was definitely a blow. You scowled at the irony you were sure wasn’t lost on the redhead. 

  Once you figured you had put the burn under cold water for long enough, you left the bathroom and studied the apartment before you. Still adamant on finding a way out, you strolled around the wide space scanning for anything you hadn’t spotted before. You knew the kitchen and the bathroom were a bust and the living room was too vast to provide any help to you, so you set your eyes on the impressive stairway and made your way up. The steps were especially chilling under your bare feet but you tried to ignore the sensation once you reached the door and examined the thick barricade. 

  You tried the handle for some dumb luck and was unsurprised to find no lean way so you scanned the keypad for any signs of continued use of specific keys. Again, you went to try the first combination you could think of but on the first number the light flashed red and an abrasive sound of denial came from the lock. Confused, you tried every number but every time you were met with the same sound and light. Defeated, you carried on down the steps, knowing it was useless to wait outside that door in hopes of surprising Natasha when she got back. 

  Continuing back into the bedroom, your gaze fell to the balcony door and you immediately rushed to it thinking it would give way but it was of course locked. You sat back on the bed, feeling defeated and emotional again. You were just so tired and homesick and cooped up. You began wishing you hadn’t pissed Natasha off before so that you would have enjoyed more time outside but swiftly denied myself to ponder on that. I will not strive to make that psycho content just so she can give my ‘outside time’. 

  You despised the feeling of being some common animal that was being kept in a cage to adjust to a new life. You weren’t her pet and you refused to stay there any longer, so with a sudden burst, you charged at the window and kicked it as hard as you could. Nothing. So you kicked again, and again and again. Not even a scratch. You kept going until your legs and foot grew undeniably sore and collapsed against the glass in a heap, beginning to sob once more. 

*

You spent the entirety of that day on the sofa wrapped up in some blankets you had found in the bottom of Natasha’s wardrobe. You had wanted to stay in bed, but laying there only reminded you of what you had done in it with the redhead, stirring up feelings and thoughts you didn’t want to process. So instead, you stayed on the sofa and watched how the sky and city transformed throughout the day, too tired to grow bored of the sight. 

  The TV didn’t work and you genuinely weren't sure if it was because the spy had turned the power off or if she had just never used it and therefore hadn’t ever set it up. You assumed the Avenger had an excessive collection of computers and electronics in the flat, but none of them were anywhere you could access them so you were limited to the windows for your entertainment. 

  You had thought about asking Natasha for a clock or watch of some kind. You hated not knowing exactly what the time was as you were only able to make a rough assumption based on the sun’s position. The time you had spent wondering had started to make you irritable. You aimed to bring it up to the redhead organically although how easy that would be you weren’t sure. 

  It was strange not having her there. Even when she was out of sight, Natasha’s presence filled every inch of the space in the apartment and without her it almost felt like there was too much space for yourself. You had no idea what to do with it, so you confined yourself to one spot and strived to not let her overtake your thoughts. You knew you needed to keep thinking of a way to get out but you just wanted some peace from anything to do with her.

  The sun was setting when Natasha got back, so it must have been at least seven. You didn’t lift your head in her direction when you heard the two beeps and locks opening, or even when her boots thudded against the staircase as she made her way down. You made a point of keeping your eyes trained on the city while hers examined your state as she trudged across the room towards you. You wondered if she was tired. 

  You finally looked up at Natasha once she stood in front of you within arm’s reach. She had a white plastic bag in hand that seemed to have two small boxes within it. “I’m back.” She announced. You clenched your jaw and looked away, wishing she could’ve given you peace for an hour longer. “Come eat.” She made it sound like an invitation, but you both knew she wasn’t really offering so after a beat you dragged yourself from the makeshift security of the blankets and towards the table. 

  Natasha had put the food onto some plates that she laid on the table and went to grab some cutlery while you sat down to inspect the contents. It looked to be an italian salad with a small amount of dressing drizzled over without touching the croutons or tomatoes. Just how you liked it. A large part of you was suspicious of the dish in front of you, especially as you hadn’t seen the redhead prepare it and had no clue what could be secretly hidden in it, but you hadn't eaten all day and the colourful salad was undeniably tempting. But also, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care what could be in the food. You were too tired to play Natasha’s mind games and timidly roll the dice she put before you. So as soon as she put your cutlery down you dug in and finished the meal in a matter of minutes. 

  You felt perfectly fine after you swallowed the final bite and took the time it took Natasha to finish to study her as subtly as you could. Her auburn hair was plaited with a few loose tendrils hanging loosely infront of her face. Any other time you would have admired it. Apart from that, she looked no different and while of course you had no idea what she had been called away for, she had been gone a long while so naturally you were curious. You wondered how often she would be away for such a long period of time and if it would ever be longer. Would it be something you might be able to see a pattern in after a while? Unlikely. Threats to national, international and intergalactic security wouldn’t be so threatening if they had a rota to abide by. 

  “Clean up for me, malysh,” Natasha said with an unexpected gentleness. She didn’t look at you as she said it, nor while she walked past you but there was no doubt it lacked her usual demanding undertone. 

  You took both your plates and cutlery and brought them up to the sink to begin cleaning but caught sight of the kettle before doing so. You didn’t have any bad intentions with it, you genuinely just wanted a cup of tea for some familiarity but the last you had looked there had been no tea bags anyway so you sighed and continued to wash up. By the time you were done Natasha was back though you hadn’t seen her walk past you and once you stepped away from the kitchen you found her sitting on the sofa in the exact spot you had been lying in. You glared at the back of the spy’s head but eventually began trudging over. 

  The closer you got, you noticed that the redhead was reading a book she must have been keeping upstairs. The cover of it suggested it was a French murder mystery set in Paris, not usually your thing but you were so eager for something to do you would read any similar novel she might be keeping upstairs. 

  You perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa as far away from the spy as you could while her eyes ran across the page swiftly. You glanced at the TV and wondered if it worked now that Natasha was back so you picked up the remote you had left nearby and tried the main button. A blank screen stared back at you so you looked to Natasha to see if she had acknowledged it. Her attention stayed on her book. 

  “Could you turn the TV on?” You asked after half a minute of awkward silence. Natasha turned over another page. “Please?” You forced out after a beat but the redhead continued to ignore you. You sat back slowly and pondered your next words. “You know it’s pretty hard to tell what the time is…” you started. “Maybe I could have a small clock or watch or…something,” you suggested but it fell on deaf ears. You stared at Natasha for a short while longer, waiting for any indicator she had even heard anything you had said because you knew she had just like you knew she could feel you watching her. 

  As soon as you could feel yourself grow frustrated again, you got up from the sofa and headed for the bathroom, figuring that putting space between yourself and the older woman was the best way to stop yourself from doing something reckless. So instead, you started brushing your teeth and washing your face as you knew you weren't going to be doing anything else, you might as well go to bed. You didn’t really want to, but you also didn’t want to be near Natasha and that made your options very limited. 

  Some time later you heard the Avenger enter the room though with your back to her you were confused by the sound of a heavy thud followed by Natasha dragging something across the floor. You frowned but didn’t turn to look, aiming to appear asleep. Even when the redhead disappeared into the bathroom you didn’t dare sneak a glance and what she had brought in and felt the ever present sense of unease grow, like a child during bedtime convinced there's a monster in their room. 

  When Natasha returned you could hear the sound of a lock turning, helping you imagine some kind of box the redhead had brought in. You strained your ears more and just about caught the sound of a buckle and something else being tossed on the bed before Natasha removed her clothes and put them for the wash. More shuffling and eventually she was moving the covers back and shuffling towards you. You froze until you were suddenly being shoved onto the floor. You braced yourself for impact just in time but still dazed nonetheless. This time, you gaped back at Natasha just as she grabbed a handful of your hair and dragged you up to your knees to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide for you to kneel between them and stare openly at the black harness she wore and sizeable dildo attached. 

  “Get it wet for me, detka.” Natasha instructed, her voice as husky as it was the last time she had you in such an intimate place. Your eyes snapped at hers and you could immediately sense that she wasn’t going to be taking no as an answer. Her eyes were dark and drunk on a power she knew she held every second that you were in that apartment but particularly when she had me like this. 

  She grabbed the silicone toy with her other hand when you were too dazed to respond and slapped it a little across your cheek impatiently. “I- I don’t know-” you stammered at the unpractised scene you found myself in. Of course you had watched porn and read smut with this but you had never done it and now that you actually could you found yourself intimidated by the toy presented to you. It was bigger than anything you had ever used on yourself and you were suddenly very unsure of what you were even meant to do.

  “It’s not hard, malysh,” Natasha huffed and pushed the head past your parted lips without any warning. “Even a dumb mutt like you can do it,” she said before taking both hands to the back of your head and forcing you down on her strap. You  immediately tried to brace yourself by grabbing at Natasha’s thighs but this proved no help when the toy hit the back of your throat and you began to cough and gargle. Through tear filled eyes, you tried to look at the redhead pleadingly for some leanway, not understanding that this only worked her up more and she continued to push you down until your nose was against her stomach. 

  You hit her thighs with as much strength as you could muster as she held you in that position, desperate for air and a break on your burning throat, until she pushed you off her toy and let you gasp for air while she kept you close. You coughed and wheezed in a panic, not even noticing the tears streaming down your face or the spit on your chin. All the while Natasha soaked up the view until you had gotten enough oxygen back into your body. Your breathing still wasn’t normal and you weren’t ready to try again, but the more experienced woman forced her strap into your mouth once more, this time guiding you to roughly bob your head on her toy. She didn’t make you take the whole length every time, easing the pressure off of your throat and instead making your jaw ache from the unfamiliar action.

  Her fingers had a hold of the majority of your hair and tightened every so often just to make you whine at the painful sensation of her pulling on your scalp. Just because she could. “That’s it, we just gotta loosen up that sensitive little gag reflex of yours, don’t we?” Natasha cooed and bucked her hips just to hear you gag and prove her point. You gave a muffled protest around the toy and the redhead chuckled. 

  “God, I could keep you like this for hours,” the spy breathed out as she watched a fresh set of tears start up in your eyes. “I bet that would just turn you into a cockdrunk whore, huh?” She spat and when you didn’t even try to respond she pulled the strap away and slapped you. Your head didn’t spin too far to the side due to her unwavering grip. “Answer me.”

  “Yes,” you said, voice hoarse and weak.

  “That’s yes daddy,” Natasha corrected and your cheeks heated up.

  “I…” you started but one warning look from the redhead was enough for you to correct yourself. “Yes daddy,” you said and was ashamed to feel your cunt clench around nothing as the words left your lips. Natasha smirked and hauled you back onto the bed before pushing your face into the pillows and lifting your ass up. You went to squirm away but she placed a firm hand on your waist as she lined her cock up with the other and ran it through your embarrassingly wet folds. 

  “Wait!” You tried but Natasha was already dragging the dildo up and down your slit, allowing you to hear just how wet you were for her and making you bathe in shame before she pushed the thick toy inside you. 

  It was a strike of blazing hot sensations. Every inch of Natasha’s cock was thrust inside you within a split second and just like that, she was anchored inside you and you were bound to her. Every nerve in your body was ablaze while not a single cell in your brain could respond. Everything was alight and it was blinding yet you could do nothing to stop it and would do anything to keep it. Then suddenly Natasha withdrew and forced herself in again and you became entirely too aware of the stretch, of the size, of the fullness. It was all far too much but you were trapped between the redhead and her bed and not a single muscle within you was strong enough to even attempt to move. 

  To add to it all, you could feel your slick on your thighs and heard yourself moan into the pillow. You couldn’t help it. Any of it. It hurt so much but it felt so so good. It was entirely too easy for Natasha to pump her cock into your cunt, stuffing you to the brim every time and sending your nerves into a frenzy. 

  “I knew you’d fucking love this,” the redhead grunted as she planted her hand into the back of your head and used it as leverage to fuck you better with. You clenched around the toy the moment she did and she smirked, thrusting her hips wildly against you and revelling in the mess she had made you become. You were a puddle in her bed and could only rely on Natasha to build you back up again. Not yet though. She wanted to play with you first and took her time in doing so. 

  Natasha was insatiable, never getting enough of your desperate whines every time she pulled back too far or waited a moment longer to push her cock back into your cunt. She edged and teased you relentlessly for hours, making you beg for things you never dreamed you would. You gave yourself to her and allowed the spy to do whatever she liked with you under the illusion that she would make it all better if you did, that she would set you ablaze in the most euphoric way imaginable. She was everything. 

  You passed out after cumming numerous times, collapsing in a heap and letting the exhaustion clock you out for the night. Luckily, Natasha was too and content to let the rest of her attention to you be for the sole purpose of cleaning you both up, not wanting to have to deal with it the next day. She was amused to find she was even able to change the bed sheets without you stirring. Granted, it was your first time in some sense of the word and the redhead had worked you far past my limits as she had intended to. 

  Natasha watched you sleep for a while before she even considered it for herself, knowing you were going to be flat out for a long time. She was glad that you weren’t still numb to sex, that that morning had just been some disassociated state that she wondered if she would find you in the next morning. She didn’t much care if she did, but she was still curious to know because Natasha was still finding you challenging to predict. She hadn’t expected you to become so willing again so soon yet seeing that you were allowed her to think about how she could take things with you. There was still some trial and error to be done, but Natasha was gradually figuring out the best ways to break you.

*

You felt nothing but achy when you woke up. You grimaced at first until you realised the main area of the discomfort and sunk further into the bed and found yourself more mortified than you had been the morning before. How had you let that happen again? Except it was far worse than last time because Natasha really hadn’t had to use a knife to threaten her way into your pants. 

  You were grateful to find she wasn’t lying next to you but listened out for any signs of her in the bathroom or kitchen, getting nothing. You hauled myself from the bed, set on the shower as quickly as possible to try and feel clean again and hoping it would be more effective the second time around. Thankfully it was, though that may have been partly due to the absence of any unwanted company as you lathered myself in soap, even washing your hair as swiftly as possible. 

  Staying in the shower, you felt your muscles start to relax under the steaming water and were able to focus on the sounds and feelings surrounding you for a few moments of bliss that you wouldn’t end up regretting later on. It was only once the heat started to make you light headed that you dried yourself off and headed back to the bedroom.

  That’s when you noticed the notepad left on Natasha’s side of the bed. You started towards it with some apprehension and as you got closer you noticed there was a HB pencil and square rubber laying next to it. No sharpener. The notepad had no lines inside and was the type that was held together by two thin pieces of cardboard on either side. 

  “Behave and I’ll get you a treat.” That was what Natasha had said. “Like a notepad.” You scoffed and threw the ‘gift’ back down on the bed next to the clothes the redhead had lain out for you. Instead, you made your way over to the wardrobe to get something else and rummaged through all the options. 

  You were tempted to piece together an outfit with the spy’s leather jacket and combat boots, just to piss her off, but you thought it best to try and stay on her good side for a while until you could figure out a stable plan to get out. Sure, not going through her clothes would be a good way to do that, however you were getting tired of walking around without trousers so you grabbed the first pair of sweatpants you saw and paired them with the shirt and fresh underwear Natasha had left out. You yearned for the comfort of your own clothes and headed for the kitchen.

  There was still no sign of the redhead as you searched her cupboards for something to eat and settled on some fruit left in the fridge. As you began eating, you wondered if you would be able to use the pencil as a weapon. Sure, it wouldn’t be as good as the knife, but used with enough force it could be something promising. Natasha clearly didn’t deem it much of a threat or she wouldn’t have given it to you. Then again, you figured she had left you the knife just so she could use it against you. You couldn’t underestimate her again. 

  When you finished your breakfast and washed up the bowl, you paused next to the oven for a moment, remembering that Natasha said the power would be off whenever she wasn’t there. You turned the dial and waited for the sound of something igniting and upon hearing nothing determined that the redhead was out. You smiled at the small victory of knowing you could use that method to determine her whereabouts in the future. It was progress. 

  Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for your mind to wander back to your night with the redhead, replaying the very vivid memories of the degrading ways she touched and talked to you. And how you had reacted. So you soon caved and went back to the bedroom to retrieve the notepad and supplies and brought them back to the sofa that still had several blankets over it but had since been folded neatly. At least you could both appreciate tidiness. 

  You tapped your pencil against the notepad as you studied the city before you. You already spent countless hours staring out at it, you just weren't used to sketching landscapes. It took several attempts to start, but once you realised you weren’t going to be sharing the final result with anyone, you allowed your hand to roam freely across the page and began collecting the buildings together with your pencil, eventually becoming immersed in the art the way you often did. 

  You gave voice to the chaos of the city and the confidence to the skyscrapers that acted as the foundations and the awe of the people below. You sauntered around the apartment to get all angles and different insights, different stories, different ages. All expressed across numerous pages in the notepad until the sun dispersed behind the buildings and the true nightlife got to shine across new pages. 

  You didn’t even realise Natasha was home until her shadow fell over the notepad. You jumped, knocking everything off of your lap and backing away from the redhead who watched you with a bemused expression. Her hair was still in a plait. You liked it like that. She trudged over to the kitchen and put a pack of beers in the fridge, keeping one for herself and taking it through to the bedroom where you heard the balcony door slide open and partly shut. 

  Trying to ignore the redhead’s presence, you turned back to the notepad and put pencil to paper only to see the stump of lead had come out. You tried to put it back in like you used to when you were too lazy to fetch your sharpener but the lead was too short and kept falling back out. You huffed and glared in Natasha’s general direction before gathering everything and taking it to the balcony with you where the Avenger sat smoking. 

  You leant against the sliding door, facing the side of Natasha’s profile, as you spoke. “Thanks for the notepad and pencil,” you wondered if it sounded as forced to her as it did to your own ears. “And the rubber,” you added dutifully. “The lead just fell out of the pencil though so…” She didn’t respond so you let the statement hang in the air as you tapped the notepad against your leg and thought of something else to say and realised the redhead hadn’t acknowledged the additional clothing you were wearing. You glanced at her and registered a far away look across her face and wondered if she had a bad day. 

  No. You refused to feel bad for her if she did. She deserved it. Well…wishing a bad day on her felt uncomfortable. You didn’t want her to be upset, you just wanted her to stop making you upset. 

  You didn’t know what else to say. Small talk was never a strong suit of yours. “Shall I…make some food?” You tried. You weren’t hungry yourself, you didn’t have the biggest appetite at the best of times and the past couple days didn’t make it any better. You also weren't planning on making a meal for the redhead out of the kindness of your heart. You just wanted something to do after a day of nothing but drawing. Natasha didn’t reply and you realised you didn’t really know what dish you could make out of the ingredients the spy had anyway. Cooking wasn’t one of your strong suits either. At least you could draw buildings. 

  Figuring there wasn’t much more you could do or say, you went back inside and got yourself ready for bed, surprised to see that Natasha fell shortly behind and you were somewhat thankful that she didn’t want a meal prepared. Perhaps she had had dinner with the Avengers. The thought almost made you bitterly laugh. 

  As soon as Natasha was in bed, she was on you. Mouth everywhere, hands everywhere. She made swift work of your clothes and despite yourself, you helped her. Not because you wanted to be on her good side, not because you wanted to distract her, but because as soon as she made her move you forgot you hated her and only knew you wanted her.

[threestarsaboveclouds]

[ Part 1 ]

TSAC: Finally. With the completed reconstruction of this pearl's crystal lattice structure, it should be readable now.

[ TRANSCRIPTION - PALE GREEN PEARL ]

Hello there, my name is Embers within Ashes!

I may or may not have overheard a conversation you had with someone else about your scavenger problem! Many of us have to deal with them eventually, they seem to love trying to pry at our seams.

Letting your local vulture population have at them is a great way to keep the biomass in the food chain, certainly better than other methods I have seen others use.

But to get to my point, I have an idea how to maximize your vultures' effectiveness!

What my Messenger has hopefully brought to you along with this pearl is a creature called a Squidcada.

They are quite the handful and like to ram themselves against anything they perceive as a threat (or want to bully).

They are also small and nimble enough to squeeze themselves through tight spaces. Scavengers like to hide in there from bigger threats, the cadas can flush them out. I think they would be a great addition to your natural defenses!

I didn't want to send a possibly invasive species to your facility grounds, this is just a male and won't be able to spread on its own.

If you feel this plan could work you could give my messenger a pearl with a response. My communications arrays have been rather flimsy as of late and I want to be sure I receive your message if you have one.

Either way I wish you well friend.

[ END TRANSCRIPTION ]

TSAC: …oh!

I see… that must be why that little creature brought a Squidcada into my chamber. So it was indeed a messenger after all.

I’ll formulate a reply and see if I can convince it to pass my message along…

[ TRANSCRIPTION - PALE GREEN PEARL (APPENDED TEXT) ]

Hello, Embers Within Ashes! This is Three Stars Above Clouds. Your messenger arrived safely with a Squidcada in tow. I’m rather impressed that it was able to bring one so far, especially considering my facility’s harsh climate. I appreciate the considerable effort you have spent sending not one but two creatures all the way to my can. 

I do think your proposal has some merit-  I hadn't considered introducing Squidcadas to my local ecosystem as a defensive measure- the technique is quite clever! Squidcadas are not native to my facility, at least as far as I’m aware. It’s likely that the cold climate makes it hard for them to thrive. However, it might be possible to alter their genetics to make them more resistant to the cold. I don’t possess the equipment necessary to induce such changes via bioengineering, but it may be possible to achieve the desired effect through selective breeding. Please let me know if you have any suggestions. I’ll hold on to the Squidcada your messenger brought for study in the meantime.

I’ll send this pearl along with your messenger. The pearl initially came to me damaged; likely due to your messenger’s long journey. Thankfully I was able to retrieve the text of your message, but I’ll encode my response with several layers of redundancy just in case.

I am hopeful that your messenger arrives back to you safely.

Regards,

Three Stars Above Clouds

[ END TRANSCRIPTION ]

TSAC: That should be sufficient. Now to see if I can get a hold of that little animal again.

Hopefully it hasn’t wandered too far... scouring every inch of my facility with my Overseers is not exactly how I want to spend this cycle…

...

TSAC: Ah! There you are. You're quite swift, little creature.

TSAC: Here is your pearl back. Hopefully you’re able to return it to your iterator in one piece.

I’ll assign some Overseers to escort you to the outskirts of my territory. I can’t follow you for the entire distance, but I assume you know the way back from there.

Be safe.

[ Special thank you to @beeb-oob for providing me with the contents of the pearl! ]

[devine-fem]

I wanted to talk about Damian’s sexuality.

That comes out weird, I know but this is prompted more so because I saw someone post about how he’s always been straight and op didn’t understand how people were so surprised when he started dating Nika. Then someone took a jab at Damijon + another person who said they didn’t understand the concept of Damian not understanding queerness.

I think that Damian doesn’t understand queerness but I’ll get into it toward the end of the post.

This will be put in two parts. One for Damian and how he feels about his sexuality and Damian’s internalized homophobia.

Let’s start with his canon love interest; Flatline. Flatline unlike his other attempted love interests was supposed to be taken seriously and didn’t suck. Compared to the others on this list, we should be rejoicing at Flatline.

Then this person used panels where it suggested that Damian had a sexual interest in a woman.

Almost every single person Damian has been interested in has been treated like a joke and not taken seriously. Some women are much too old for him and just awful picks.

Katana… why… stop please. Another example of them only doing it as a joke. This is so weird considering she’s much older.

Supergirl. Another joke. And much older.

Djinn… I don’t even know why…

Cassie Sandsmark… in a Earth, nice one Tom Taylor.

He has a couple more one off ones that weren’t taken seriously as well.

I know he got a cheek kiss from Emiko. He also dated Raven in an animation but I feel it was more a plot device. Also there are a lot of sexual jokes about Damian and I hate because he’s supposed to be ten by that time… there were some weird sexual impilcations when he teamed up with steph and I don’t know why writers do that instead of exploring the potential of their characters together and relationship…

Now let’s get into how Damian personally feels about his sexuality.

He jabs at romance and the concept of it a lot.

In Robin 2021 he also was very against romance but it was more as a way to sheild himself from his feelings. The only real confirmation that Damian is attracted to woman is Nika. So thank you, Nika. Anything other than that is just comphet to me at least.

This is also why he’s hc as Aro, Ace or Demi because he literally shows no interest in romance and the only times he does it feels like the writer has forgotten his personality.

TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT.

People don’t talk about that time Damian was kind of drugged/mind controlled and sexually assaulted… I’m not sure if people don’t perceive it that way but it seemed like SA to me.

She’s much older than him. He’s a ten year old. The way she’s speaking… her being naked. Damian telling her he doesn’t like it. Him not being in his right frame of mind… it reads this way to me.

Listen, I don’t understand how you can interpret Damian as any sexuality anyway when he’s so young. Only when he’s thirteen/fourteen can it truly be explored.

Although, Damian saying he won’t/can’t feel that way also proves my case.

He’s never really shown a whole bunch of interest in anyone.

—— End of trigger.

Now for the internalized homophobia.

So, the arguement is “he’s too smart not to know about queer culture…” What? What part of not knowing about queer culture makes you stupid?

Damian grew up in a very controlled environment where he was taught how to survive, taught how to lead and how to feel. What part of his schedule would fit in learning about queerness?

Internalized homophobia is in no way a bad thing and personally, as others do as well, see it as another way to queer code because its something a lot of queer people experience. This doesn’t negate the attraction to woman by the way but that doesn’t mean Damian can’t be interpreted as some other type of queer.

There’s also people who like to negate and ignore this part of Damian’s character but… why? These moments are part of important comics with his character. Damian was young and didn’t know much about well, anything. If you’re not personally queer yourself then you have no real incentive to learn about queerness.

There’s nothing really wrong with it. Even if Damian used gay as more of an insult. I doubt he knew what being queer was outside of “When boy likes boy.”

Also, he makes some comments often that come off… not the best.

I still really don’t think its bad and can be interesting if explored.

This also coupled with his culture shock, probably adds to his confusion on certain cultures.

I mean, he doesn’t know all that much. He’s not exactly mister super genius when it comes to real life things as well.

He doesn’t know what laffy taffy is… come on.

All this evidence doesn’t even matter anyway because it’s confirmed that when he does go to pride that knows literally nothing about it and has to be EXPLAINED by a friend about how it came about and how it works but people get so upset about that.

I don’t know what Damian’s sexuality could possibly be but I just don’t personally think he knows either and that has nothing to do with Damijon or any ship, but with canon.

I wanted to go more indepth to this but yeah, internalized homophobia Damian is very close to me.

[hero-israel]

Last week, in my Discord group of about 60 lifelong friends (and I mean really lifelong, danced-at-the-wedding, phone-call-for-the-divorce friends), one person posted a "from the river to the sea" meme they'd found on Twitter. I made clear that it was a huge problem, that person apologized and deleted it, everyone else seemed supportive and understanding.

And surprised.

Because none of them - not ONE of them - had ever heard the term before, nor knew what the river or the sea were, nor had any clue it could possibly be seen as threatening. That included the person who posted it in the first place. These are all college graduates, some of them with post-college degrees, all liberal Democrats who agree with everything John Oliver ever said.

The discussion went as well and as supportively as it possibly could have, but I am still floored by how.... remote the topic was from all of their lives. Including how remote it was for other Jewish members of the group (though I can't help but notice that those other Jewish members are unaffiliated and don't have kids).

I bring this up because it shows that social media really can exaggerate the scale of threats we perceive and experience. And if you had told me that more than a week ago, I would have cut you off and said "Of course, I know that, I'm not naive" - but it still would never have occurred to me that it could reach such a degree. How constantly reading updates on war and hate and protests and threats really can give a distorted and inaccurate picture of the world.

One time on Reddit, I noticed a pro-Palestine account that was positively obsessed with the "boogaloo boys," a purported sub-set of white supremacists. This person mentioned "boogaloo boys" probably 80 times a week, in the context of how their racial civil war was about to begin and would target Arab-Americans first. And it really began to look weird - a focus beyond their importance. I'm sure nobody would ever want to meet a "boogaloo boy," of course, but I also think this person made more posts about that group than the number of members there are in the actual group.

Has anyone outside age 18-23 and outside a college campus ever met a member of SJP? They're pretty horrible people, but they go tabling right next to all sorts of splintercranks who dissolve once you graduate.

There is a real perceptual, emotional downside to seeking out hatred and threats so one can announce "Aha! Look at all this hatred and threats!". It is not only privilege that allows people to avoid some problems and conflicts - it can also be demographic, political reality. It is important to know who hates and threatens us - and also to remain members of "the reality-based community." Internet discussions are not real life, college campuses are not real life, internet discussions among college students are the least real of all.

Scott Alexander touched on this - how certain political beliefs can be avoided even without conscious effort:

According to Gallup polls, about 46% of Americans are creationists. Not just in the sense of believing God helped guide evolution. I mean they think evolution is a vile atheist lie and God created humans exactly as they exist right now. That’s half the country.

And I don’t have a single one of those people in my social circle. It’s not because I’m deliberately avoiding them; I’m pretty live-and-let-live politically, I wouldn’t ostracize someone just for some weird beliefs. And yet, even though I probably know about a hundred fifty people, I am pretty confident that not one of them is creationist. Odds of this happening by chance? 1/2^150 = 1/10^45 = approximately the chance of picking a particular atom if you are randomly selecting among all the atoms on Earth.

About forty percent of Americans want to ban gay marriage. I think if I really stretch it, maybe ten of my top hundred fifty friends might fall into this group. This is less astronomically unlikely; the odds are a mere one to one hundred quintillion against.