#maybe it's a good thing that I don't need to clear up anything???
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atangledfate · 3 days ago
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The Wolf on the Monitor didn't seem to budge an inch by the Princesses impassioned speech. It was hard to tell if he lacked any empathy or if he was hiding his real emotions behind a mask of stoicism. Either way Lupus was a wall of emotionlessness, the kind of soldier who follows orders no matter how awful or foolish they are. He was loyal to a fault and he did not intend to falter even for a second. But nor did he hold the princesses words against her. They were simply two people on opposites sides of a building conflict.
" I'm Sorry Princess i have my orders if i could do anything to help you i would. But the top Brass made it very clear that we were to blockade this area until they said otherwise. I'll see what i can do on my end... but i can't promise anything. Until then all i can advise you to do is sit tight, and wait... "
The wolf relaxed if only slightly
" now unless you have anything else to say i should get back to the command chair..."
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In Truth Lanolin was just glad to have a friend close by when things seemed so out of hand. Tangle and Whisper were both out of commission, leaving hr the only cutter standing. She had no idea if Surge and Kit even stuck around though she hoped they had. Sonic was who knows where, and only person she knew she could rely on was Belle and Blaze! She wished she knew where Jewel was, or anyone else to rely on! She just felt out of her depth, and the stress was getting to her.
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" Having a backup plan in case things go south is a good idea. though, i am hoping it doesn't come to that. Are at least 3 GUN battle cruisers and who knows how many automated units... with this skeleton crew it might get rocky real fast..."
Her eyes turned to Belle and nodded her head in response to belle
" I would, you might not be built for battle but you have a very analytical mind. You might have ideas i don't and i'm use to commanding a small group not... an army. Honestly im worried if this comes to blows... they out number us 10 to 1... and are better trained. We need a plan ready in case this goes sideways and not just an escape plan..."
She turned her eyes to the sky and to the giant Wisp and squinted her eyes at the mama wisp.
" Think she's hostile? ya know if we could get her help... it might turn things around if push comes to shove. But we'd have to get up there... or maybe communicate somehow. "
Maggie looked down at Lanoline as the wisp then looked up at the giant Wisp. Knowing how important Mother Wisps were to there people she didn't know why she was there but the Wisp bounced in front of Lanolin making it clear she was ready to be the liaison between Lanolin and the Mother Wisp if she needed her to be!
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"If your only intent is to hold a line until all is resolved then why are you preventing official Restoration soldiers from giving us the aid we clearly need? I can fully understand preventing any unaffiliated assistance, though I'm sure everyone formally working here have provided the required ID to prove that." Blaze wasn't going to question why President of the United Federation as of course only someone that high could make this call.
"All you're doing is making you seem more like an enemy rather than a peace keeper. We don't need reconstruction members to be let in only soldiers and emergency response members. Further preventing them from entering will only increase the chance of outlash which I'm sure you know will lead to fighting." That was something the feline wished to avoid.
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Then Lupus offered to at least let them get all civilians and injured out of the base. "That is a start, though I refuse to stand down on allowing you to let in more help. If this is about Mimic then I can fully understand preventing people from leaving, though we both know he wouldn't be trying to get in. Now, will you let the people I requested in or risk a fight breaking out?" Blaze was sure she was coming off as strong with hammering in so many points, though best not to give him anyway room to breath.
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Belle was a bit surprised how easily she managed to get all the active soldiers, though while not being a head in any of the departments she was still decently experienced with crazy situations like this. The tinkerer's attention would turn to Lanolin taking the task getting them in order off her hand which was easy since they were ready.
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"I wasn't going to say anything, honest. I think you're doing everything you can to keep a fire fight from breaking out." Belle was sure Lanolin was doing everything she could to prevent a fight between The Restoration and GUN from breaking out. Then the sheep suggested what she should do should a fight break out.
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"I'm not going anywhere, not this time. I already lost one home because of my cowardice to defend myself. I won't lose another because I'm not brave enough to defend others. Besides, I think they'll have a hard time trying to take me in if they attempt to do so." Belle had also been training with her downloaded skills so wasn't going to go quietly if need be.
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"Though before that, let me speak to my fellow gearheads for a plan C if things get hairy. After all, we know the inner workings of the base better than anyone." Belle would then find a crate, standing on it. "Alright, I know I'm not the Chief, though if he was here I'm sure he'd agree with this plan. I want all mechanics to cover all the sewer entrance's. If things get bad it'll be our best chance to run. After that we can seal the doors behind and slow GUN down."
"I know we aren't fighters, though we have better ways to help. Everyone here helped build this place from the ground up, that means we know it better than GUN ever will and we'll use that to our advantage. There are seven main sewer entrance's so split up to go to them. We got this." Belle then got off the crate and walked back over to Lanolin.
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"Here's hoping we don't have to go with that plan, though it's there if we need it." Belle knew if they had to flee through the sewers then that would mean the base is lost. Something the tinkerer hoped they could prevent at all costs. "So, I'd offer to go with help at the other check point, though I'm guessing you'd at least want me to stick with you."
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stormandforge · 22 hours ago
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Raw reactions to X-Force #5
Yup, someone dies.
MASSIVE spoilers (and controversial opinions) below.
It's Nori. There'd been so much foreshadowing in the comic - and so much fan discussion about the upcoming character death - that I had started believing it wouldn't be her. But no, it was always going to be her. When you consider the way she joined the team, her post-Krakoa trauma, her selflessness and her relationship with Forge, it makes complete sense.
That death scene goes hard. We actually see her burned-up corpse, we hear her farewell words - oof, my heart. Rest in power, little blue-haired hero.
This said, everyone attacking Geoff Thorne over Nori's death needs to calm down. I would understand this amount of upset if he'd done her dirty, but he really hasn't. He's consistently written her with respect, gave her as much spotlight as he could in a team book, and gave her a heroic death. Stories kill characters, people. That's just the way it is.
Also: Nori's coming back, maybe even in this run. We just don't know yet. And don't give me nonsense about the resurrection protocols being gone - mutants came back from the dead before Krakoa, they will continue to do so.
"Forge always has a plan." YES. Nothing to do with his power; he's just always up to something. That's Forge 101. Fuck me, it's so good to have a writer who understands him. And because Thorne has done his homework, I believe what we're witnessing is a typical Forge plan: something that he believes will benefit the greater good, but that is also misguided and full of hubris and will repeatedly backfire in his face.
Forge can be cold, but this is subzero. He loves Nori, he wouldn't act that way if he was fully himself. Something's going on. Someone needs to shake him real hard - beat him to a pulp, really - and realign his neurons. The two most qualified people to do that are showing up in the next issue, so I'm thinking this is what will happen.
Why does he take her gauntlets? It can't just be for the sake of getting his tech back. As i said he's not that cold, and also he can probably make those again in his sleep.
FORGE ALMOST KILLED AN ALT VERSION OF STORM IN COLD BLOOD. The man is not well, I'm telling you.
There's a theme of Forge hurting the women he cares about in this issue. Trust Sage to see the pattern and get the hell out before anything can happen- the hurting or the caring.
OK, now he's hovering above the ground with a big shiny triangle around his body. That's magic, isn't it? For a second I started thinking the Analog must be magic after all, but then I remembered Sage loves staring into it too, so it can't be. Mmm...still processing.
Thorne understands Forge's power better than any writer I've seen (yup that includes Claremont), and I appreciate that he mentions his need for materials to build anything. It should be obvious, but most writers have him make things out of thin air. There's only so much he can fit in that utility belt.
So many people, so many things! Poor Marcus To.
Marcus To is still doing excellent though. Do I need to tell you that Forge is hot? I think I've been clear on that already, but let me reiterate: FORGE IS HOT.
"Slippery as ice": oh, that made me hap-py. Such an evocative, accurate way of describing Sage.
No, Forge's power doesn't let him see what will happen. But you know whose power can see every eventuality? Sage's. This was highlighted in the very first issue, and Forge repeats the exact same words from this moment in this issue. THERE'S SOMETHING TO THAT.
I continue to dig the dynamic between Forge and Sage, curses and all. The little cerebral push and pull they have going on is very interesting.
Also continue to adore Tessa herself. The way she challenges Forge at every opportunity, the way she always asks the right questions *chef's kiss*. Everyone obviously wants to murder Forge on that last page, but I love that she's the one who tells him to go fuck himself, even though she's been the person closest to him on the team. She's my girl. I'm this close to opening a side blog entirely devoted to her awesomeness. (I see what Geoff Thorne means when he says she tries to steal the show. She does!)
OK, so, there's no way Forge has a team anymore at this point, so I assume the next issue will be a downtime one. I imagine he'll go home, have an existential crisis featuring his two exes (as you do) and then get back on the road. Or something? Also, the next issue has a Sage variant cover, which could imply she plays an important part in it. One can only hope. If it's the issue of Forge getting his ass kicked by awesome women, she should take part.
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epickiya722 · 15 days ago
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After eight hours, I gave up...
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icewindandboringhorror · 6 months ago
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boy in silly sitting positions compilation
#cats#I especially like the last one where he just has one single paw poking out of that box for some reason lol#I still have costumes to post and like a billion other things.... grr... constantly failing at staying active on social media aughh#I think because currently my Main Focus is on trying to get my game done and stuff.. which basically just means sitting and writing all day#so there's not much to post about. Though I know the Good At Social Media thing to do would be to post about the#writing and share progress and talk about the game and characters or whatever to try to build interest or something but that is SOOO weird#to me.. I could maybe get it if it was like a tiny tiny discord groupchat of playtesters with like 5 people in#it.. But something about talking openly about things before they happen is weird to me?? Like presumptuous feeling or something#''oooo guess whats gonna happen LATER!!!'' like.. how do you know.. what if it doesnt. what if you dont finish it. what if its not the way#you think it's going to be. what if something changes. etc. Like I literally avoid movie trailers and game trailers for the same reason ghj#Even if it's not ME doing it it just feels... weird.. Maybe it has to do with my OCD and how I just don't like talking about ''future''#things in Certain Terms. Like if I was going to say ''Oh yeah sure. come over to my house in a few months''. I would have to follow it up#with like ''HOPEFULLY you can come over to my house in a few months'' or 'They'll come over in a few months MOST LIKELY''. Because just#stating that something will happen matter of factly takes for granted like.. what if somehting horrible happens and I DONT have a house#in a few months? or what if something bad happens to me. or to the person coming over? I can't ever DEFINITELY say with 100% certainty#that one could ACTUALLY come to my house in a few months. anything could change. So I have to allot for that in my phrasing. hbjjkn#There are a lot of situations where you're expected to just Assume Things but for some reason that bothers me. My brain literally does not#even Assume the most basic things.. like how do *I* know that just because it's someones birthday that they want to be wished a happy#birthday? what if they dont? everyone is different and has different preferences. I should check with them first. or wait until they public#ly announce that theyre accepting birthday wishes. I have to allot for all 5034859069 rare possibilities at any given time and never take#anything for certain. etc. ghjbjhbh.... ANYWAY.. I have been feeling a bit sick lately as usual.. but still slowly making progress on some#things. Moslty I need to edit costume photos. make sculptures. and work on the game. Going back reading some of the old writing from like#2018 and suprisingly I don't have to change that much of it? In fact I like it mostly. so that's good. I would be very interested if I were#playing the game myself. Though that doesnt mean much since my tastes are so niche lol..#Still really want to clear some of my million tumblr drafts as well... alas and aughh and ooughh and so on and so forth. Between all of my#evil appointments other such things...why cant I have one billion dollar to retire into relaxed hermit artist life of no stressors.. bleas
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Look, there's one other nation directly supporting Russia, and that's North Korea. Russia this way, Russia has direct backup. Ukraine has gotten more aid from the US than any singular country, so obviously we've got skin in the game. This way Ukraine has one clear ally. Russia had suggested a referendum prior to the annexation, so they have every reason to agree to a second with both sides agreeing to terms and overseeing it according to said terms. I get it, it sounds batshit, but, because putin runs Russia the same way a mob boss was, he's going to need to keep up appearances. So if terms can be agreed upon, then in order to keep up appearances, he'll need to go with it. The presence of Ukraine and the US makes it more difficult for interfering.
If you've got a better solution for a peaceful resolution, I'm all ears.
If they're brainwashed, then they pose a risk to Ukraine. Would it not be better to let them peacefully exit? I'd assume that'd be one of the set terms. Whichever side loses, one of the governments pays for their home and any possessions they're incapable of taking with them, and they have immediate visa approval if they move. It's something I'd never want done more than once anywhere, but is what it is. If they want to be Russians, let them be Russians. If they wanna stay Ukrainian, one of the governments pays them.
But again, if you've got a better peaceful solution, I'm all ears.
It's also nobody's job to fix Russia but Russians.
You realize we just got out of multiple decades of war, that we were spread across the globe to fight, and just starting to bring people home right? These weren't a couple battalions, this was full scale occupation. That shit gets expensive. Not many nations can pull it off anymore. China's a maybe at best, Russia is clearly failing, and the next closest thing is a Venezuelan gang occupying apartment complexes and offices in the US. I'll admit, we should have been helping Ukraine build your own arms and advanced military equipment relative to the stockpiles at the start of the war. But frankly, I didn't expect Ukraine to last more than a few weeks. It's only now looking like your country has a chance at winning. If anything, even a ceasefire could get arms plants up and running so that we're not continuing to screw our economy nearly as badly. It could also temporarily boost the Ukrainian economy.
I can't fucking afford to eat. You wanna talk out of touch? Let's talk about the Ukranian officials that have been embezzeling aid.
You're saying you're not opposed to a diplomatic solution, yet when offered one you laugh it off then act like your nation is somehow entitled to our money. Are you expecting me to take any of this in good faith? Or has your mental health truly declined that much? I'm willing to just lay off if it has.
It's not that I don't feel for your people, but you're just a cunt.
I am not happy that Trump won. Not that I would prefer Kamala very much, but as a filthy Russian living in Europe, my main priority right now is Ukraine and I do believe Trump's victory lowers Ukraine's chances.
I do believe both would ultimately be unable to unfuck the American economy in one term. And I do believe Trump will worsen LGBT rights. Though I'm open to be surprised.
Ultimately, America will survive another Trump term. Even American democracy will. It's a shame, but it's not the end of the world.
My main prediction is that Trump will dial down the populist rhetoric now that he's in the office again. But we shall see.
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moinsbienquekaworu · 3 months ago
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I just spent like 20 minutes thinking about soup
#i need to move out!!!!#i love my parents to be clear they're great#i just want to be in charge of my own meals again#it's not that they're bad at feeding me stuff i want to eat it's just we like different things#when it's just me i can make my soup however i want and no one's gonna say anything#Because It's My Soup#i can eat japanese chicken curry for a week straight! no one cares!#i just need to get better at eating vegetables#i want my own kitchen soooo baaad.....#my mom's sensitive to garlic. do you know how much recipes fuck if you add garlic? severely. and i can't if she's gonna eat it#i need my own kitchen so bad so so bad pleeaase#really hoping that i get my degree within like two months#and then i have to. urgh. find a job. but then i find a job and i go there#and i get Paid! money!#and once i have some money in the bank and a long term job i can try and get a flat#and once i have a flat i have my own kitchen i can order stuff online if i want and i can adopt a cat#i can have friends over i can decorate#and if i can swing it i'll be a civil servant#and if i'm lucky enough i can perhaps. give up the next 30 years of my life to a bank so i can own my own flat#god i hope. i fucking hope. i really really want to own#like not for landlord bullshit. just so i don't have to worry about where to go in a year two years five years#i want a civil servant job because that's for life and i would love to do the same thing forever#and i want to own a flat because i could make the space fit my needs and wants perfectly#and i wouldn't have to worry about where to live or old age or whatever#good luck to me finding a well situated 2 bedroom flat in one of the if not the worst city of france in terms of housing :)#but hey i've been lucky in life. maybe it'll keep going#i know what i want early! that's good#i shouldn't have a realisation that i want kids at 30yo or whatever. I Shall Not Become My Mom#ANYWAY i need my own kitchen!!!!!#wow i have a ramble tag now
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piplupod · 4 months ago
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#i just wish someone would look at me and Know that im not doing well fjfkdl#struggling so hard to stop myself from taking self destructive action against myself bc boy howdy i just want to fuck myself up#and then maybe someone would look at me and go ''hey u dont look like ur doing so well - do u need anything?''#but thats never worked in the past and theres that whole thing of ''if u want help u need to ask for it''#unfortunately. asking doesnt seem to work very often. i seem to have to Show people somehow that im not okay. like prove it to them#both medical ppl and my family fjfkdl#so here i am again trying to stop myself from [redacted] bc I shouldnt have to prove to anyone that im not okay#honest to god idk who to even talk to about anything. like the workers at the centre are not counselors/therapists#and i dont have another counseling appt for three ish weeks so uhhh#but im kind of like... i need smth idk. i feel like im on the verge of some kind of really bad breakdown#i cannot keep going on the way i currently am - that much is clear.#but idk what can change really. other than getting the girl to give me space fjfkdl#but the bugs and the abuse and the exhaustion and the food will all continue to exist just the same#nothing can be done about any of that! RIP!#i think honestly i just want a good long hug fjdkdl im just so scared and tired fjfkdl and tired of being scared tbqh#oh well !!! i cannot want for what i cannot have! wants don't exist unless i can fulfill it myself easily! otherwise theyre not allowed!!!#pippen needs 2nd breakfast
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usodeshou · 2 months ago
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I had many things that I had considered doing today, most of it just being some chill video gaming, if I'm really honest. And I did get to do some. Then I started feeling sick.
I thought to myself, oh well, that silly motion sickness again, guess I'mma take a break 🙃
Turns out, wasn't just the motion sickness, though.
Spent the next hour and a half using my toilet as an echo chamber for creative voice lessons. Switched it up every now and again, just to keep things interesting, but the sound was just too good, so I kept coming back for encores. Realised the toilet might be cursed because I could not move away from it for more than a few meters or a few minutes before having to return.
Messaged my mom, who kindly brought me something to help break the curse.
Then spent the next three hours in a curled up position on my bedroom floor, on the carpet right next to my bed (bed would have been to soft), head on my fluffiest pillow, and underneath a warm, cuddly blanket, finally getting some rest and sleeping off the exhaustion.
When it all started it was early afternoon. The sun has now set. I am finally sitting back on the couch, munching on some insanely good pretzel sticks and drinking tea. Feel utterly serene. Could murder someone for a good, cheesy pizza right now, but that might be the devil talking.
#just me rambling#guessing that something didn't agree with my stomach but it's not quite clear what it was#it's been like 7 years since I last got sick enough to throw up and I can't say that I missed it much or cared much for it#my throat actually feels sore from all the dry-heaving#I've also been wondering#because I know that it's been debunked that coca cola is any good for you on an upset stomach#but coke + pretzel sticks has been the go-to household remedy ever since I was a child and it has always helped#this time as well#the coke was the first thing I was actually able to retain today#even water came right back out#and the pretzel sticks are perfect now#had some electrolytes too for obvious reasons#kinda want to continue playing my game but I don't dare do it anymore today#not when I know it could potentially trigger motion sickness-related issues on top of an already sensitive stomach#I've had quite enough of being sick today thank you very much#some movie maybe?#some visual novel?#not sure how well reading on my tv screen for an extended period of time is gonna sit with my head (and by extension my stomach) though#continue reading the book I'm in the middle of? maybe#really glad my nose is back to normal#it's fascinating the smells you pick up on that completely churn your stomach when you're sick#half of that shit I can't even smell properly now anymore#god some french fries would be great now too#way back in my teens when I got sick after not eating anything for too long (and then couldn't eat because I was sick - brilliant. 😑)#the thing that got me back to feeling normal ended up being french fries#the electrolytes concoction had a good amount of salt in it but I feel like my body is still demanding more#I don't trust myself with anything but pretzel sticks right now though#on any other day I might have caved and ordered that pizza#I need to stop talking about pizza for my own sanity xD#on another note: there is still a mosquito in here with me 🧐
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eri-pl · 2 days ago
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Oh this is a lot.
nor worshipped either Melkor or Sauron as a god - neither individually or as a whole people. Their lives, therefore, came under no general curse or diminishment; and their primeval and natural life-span, as a race, by "doom" co-extensive with the remainder of the Life of Arda,
But. If we go with Athrabeth (do we here?), Men were originally truely immortal - beyond Arda, so were the Elves in worse situation from the start then?
Even without worshipping Melkor the Elves are kind of… they have it worse. They have it worse than unfallen Men, seemingly better than fallen Men.
That's weird. Or, at least going by the Athrabeth, the Elves have more of "need for blind trust" initially.
As for "órë" I think a good translation is just heart[Biblical], that's very close to how the word "heart" is used there. I think. Except in NoME it's more sus, but it's Elves writing about Men, so I guess it makes sense.
I think the Noldor just ignored their óres a lot. When you read the Silm, their dumb ideas are never "his heart was telling him", and commonly "it came to his mind".
Why do you assume there are no metaphysical consequences for Men? For the Noldor, yes, because their fall is much more ... low-level, to say.
Yes, Eru makes the souls indyvidually, that's pretty clear. But that's the same as Catholic doctrine and original sin is still a thing, so I don't think it proves anything about "Tolkien meant no metaphysical consequences of the fall in Legendarium". (Unless you are generally saying this about Elves only, not about Men.)
Tolkien contradicts himself a lot in genereal, don't worry about contradicting him. :D
Also I feel like there would be a lot to say about the Men being ...more embodied, for lack of a better word, and this not being a bad thing, just more difficult and upping the stakes (but why/how exactly?). I can't really grasp it that well, but there is something in there.
Material existence is a whole new thing and it is dangerous, so obv there must be something worth the dangers and… OK, I went beyond my philosophical ability.
Also, something about how some people (and "the wise" maybe? :P But maybe not, the Elves don't seem to have this problem.) treat anything material as evil (domestic heresy my beloathed, to quote someone who said it really beautifully :) ) and that is so. dumb. But anyway traces of this bs are part of why Elves feel overpowered and overly cool, I think.
I wish I could actually go there and say it well, but I can't grasp it all well enough, especially how to derive it from what we have in the Legendarium.
In which I puzzle over metaphysical implications as regards the peoples inhabiting Arda
fyi, a certain familiarity with the (predominantly Christian, I think) concept of fallenness/unfallenness is assumed, although it turns out that it doesn't necessarily work here. Feel free to ask for clarifications
So. I'm once again wracking my head as I try to make sense of what I shall call: 'metaphysical states' of elves, men and others, because the subject is emphasised and lampshaded a lot in the books, and I can't force it all to make sense when taken together.
Ainur are a specific case and I should really leave them aside for now. They certainly can fall — and, unlike angels, change their mind, apparently (which goes both ways) — although they do seem to be more all-or-nothing than everyone else. Still, I think as long as one doesn't go into the implications of time and what its existence or nonexistence changes, they're almost straightforward. But then you have:
Elves. The 'Fall of the Noldor' is very strongly emphasised as a metaphysical fall from grace and further evils, even ones unconnected with the matter of the Silmarils themselves, are blamed on it later (Maeglin!) So far so good. Except. Non-Noldor are also liable to behave in ways that are not exemplary in the slightest, and it doesn't seem to signify a cesura in the same way — and the Noldor in Valinor were able to commit acts that perhaps weren't as heinous as what we call crimes, but weren't good either. Getting into rancid fights with your brother isn't much in comparison, but these are not the actions of unfallen people.
And on the other hand, authorial quote (paraphrased): "Elves in some ways represent Man in an unfallen state". And I'm inclined to agree: they aren't subject to death (except they may be killed, so doesn't this already break down?), and there is something very poignant in the image of their artistry, "extempt from earthly limitations". But they do not lose it, not in any easily tangible way. We can argue that evil diminishes creativity and it's probably true, but there is no hard line anyone passes. And this is again lampshaded in-world with the Númenoreans ("If we die because of some darkness that lay on us before, than why don't the Noldor?").
Which brings us to Men. The existence of a direct cause-effect relationship between fallenness and mortality in Arda cannot be ascertained (Even taking into account a Catholic framework, I feel that logically it need not be the same relationship as the Biblical one since, in contrast with the Garden of Eden, the world was already marred when humans appeared). While I consider the Tale of Adanel to be Gondorian in origin, I can also see the possibility that whatever Men did back then, beyond memory (or in other words "we purposefully forgot") was just that much worse than Alqualondë and the Oath. In any case, Man is very straightforwardly Fallen.
Hobbits. The rules for Halflings are presumably the same as for Men, which is certainly notable, given that they seem to be the least inclined to evil of all incarnates. Not perfect, not by a long shot, but unknowing of wars and violence. A pastoral image, only in-world it's true.
And at the same time, my musings bring me to the unexpected conclusion that dwarves are the only notable "generally unfallen" kindred. Which is, in context of everything that regards them, weird — because by their actions, they are very similar to Men. And yet — either the circumstances of their creation make them disadvantaged from the start (which doesn't really make that much sense), or something happened off-screen, or it's the same case as Saeros, or Thingol sending Beren to his death.
Ents? I honestly don't know if we've seen enough of ents to judge, although they seem generally good-inclined? Huorns are a different kettle of fish.
Before I try to explain orcs, it would do well to know what they are exactly.
In other words, I cannot make sense of it all, enough that I've resorted to calling the default state of incarnates in Arda "semi-fallen" (or, as is, "semi-unfallen"). Which is not a thing that makes sense, philosophically speaking — but I can find no better way.
(Although, to be quite honest, the default state of being in Arda (because of the discord?) seems to be significantly different from the unfallen state of Man as described by religious thinkers in some ways, and not all of them regard merely such things as physical marring, so perhaps "semi" isn't the worst way to describe it.)
In any case, if someone has thoughts on the subject, I'm very open to hearing them.
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keets-writing-corner · 10 months ago
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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??
As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue
the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD
He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.
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like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...
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The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"
and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it
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does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING
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like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow
For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat
Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation
Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with
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Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)
But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time
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Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell
Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch
idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room
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rubys-domain · 11 months ago
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these dishes are literally everything wtf
#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo,ide yo !!#i was actually planning on doing a “sweets impact” kinda deal. like,only cooking and eating sweets#yeah i know as a mid-late game player i don't really need to cook anymore#but where's the fun in being strictly utilitarian all the time forever in a game like this?#nobody NEEDS desserts irl either. but why deny myself those simple pleasures in life? especially in a game where they're literally free#(not needing irl money i mean. obviously they cost mora more often than not. but honestly pretty cheap compared to things like artifacts)#side note but i haven't spent a single drop of resin since i started casually playing again a couple days ago#and it feels strangely freeing. yeah sure i haven't triple-crowned my great magician yet#and crowning talents is stupid expensive#but right now i honestly don't care. my builds are all good enough for me: they get the job done and that's all i need#and i'm especially not fussed about still not being able to even clear floor 12 chamber 1#the primo payoff isn't worth tearing my hair over making my characters do marginally better damage with a slightly better goblet imo#i'd rather get primos out of something i actually enjoy doing. which is running around the map and seeing the sights and picking shit up#now that i think about it,none of the activities i enjoy most in the game have anything to do with resin#maybe when i can be arsed to i'll start on that slow grind again. maybe my boy will even get that damn marechaussee set one day who knows#but right now i don't want to feel the pressure to never let my resin cap and end up doing domains and stuff every day like chores#right now i just want to have fun
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pale-opal · 17 hours ago
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I did not see this coming, but I am not complaining. I fully support this. Let's get into it:
First of all, I am so happy that you're cool with me and Sneaky hijacking your post (lol). I didn't think you would mind, but I was also curious about how you would react outside of that.
Marty being isekai'd to save the lives of everyone she cares about has so much potential. Most people would probably take the easy route and try to prevent the Elf Wars by focusing on keeping Zero from being sealed up, but not Marty. She's going to do this right. She's snatching everyone up and improving their lives, not just making sure they survive.
The Hunters would totally be after the pirates after Marty commits two kidnappings (technically it's only one, but they don't know that). Maybe Colonel would lead the efforts to get them back, since Repliforce doesn't exist yet? He'd probably be concerned about their wellbeing. Hence the alliance - while he respects X and Zero's decision to stay onboard the ship, he'd absolutely want to make it obvious that they can come back whenever they want (they never do). He could also take out Sigma when the pirates are too busy living their best lives. I think he and most of Repliforce (including Iris and General) would be survive the events of X4 (they could even team up with the pirates to clear their names, since Repliforce was also labelled maverick for some debatable reasons.
The X-Hunters would be absolutely SCREWED. Since the pirates wouldn't really get involved in X1, the X-Hunters would be more concerned about resurrecting Sigma for reasons other than revenge. They never get the chance. They make the mistake of talking about their plans near the pirates, and Marty is just like "Yeah, no. Not on my watch." She knows what bringing Sigma back to life led to. The man needs to stay dead. So the X-Hunters get pulverized. Them's the breaks.
Doppler or Gate would probably be the ones to end up bringing Sigma back, though (let the crazy scientists be crazy scientists of their own volition, Capcom. Sigma can't run everything all the time), much to Marty's dismay. But then she figures that if X and Zero could take him out in the original timeline, then things would go much smoother now. X5 would be much less traumatic (nobody dies except Sigma! Hooray!)
I like the idea of the crew becoming a mix of random people who just need a second chance! I think X would have something to do with that. He'd definitely come to extend a hand to anyone willing to take it, now that he's in an environment that allows him to do so.
Also, I agree with X having a bunch of hobbies that he can work on when he isn't a diplomat. Maybe he'd have pet sea snails? Have a bunch of plants? Take up scrapbooking? Let X be domestic, gosh darn it!
Zero would be the best bodyguard. Nobody is getting hurt on his watch. He would probably break up any fights that took place (not that there would be many - nobody would want to run the risk of ticking him off, after all).
Axl would absolutely do random, little things that would cause Saturday-morning cartoon levels of silliness ("Hey rookie, wanna test out the new cannons?"). Nobody gets hurt, but everyone does learn a lesson and ends up having a good laugh.
Vile would probably be alive either the events of X3, assuming he still needs to be rebuilt. Maybe he has something to do with Red Alert being able to track the pirates down after they recruit Axl (imagine Red Alert with a boat??? Like, they get Splash Warfly's battleship and start going after them, but the problem is that Warlfy is the only one who knows anything about boats. At least one person falls overboard at some point), and he continues to be a menace afterwards. So Zero, Marty, and the rest of the crew would eventually come to the conclusion that they need to take this guy down. Doing so leads to them finding out about Lumine, who could be the antagonist of the whole thing, maybe (he keeps actively trying to discourage Marty from altering the timeline, but he never shows his face until X8 because he is a coward)? After finding out that this little lavender-haired loser has been behind the problems that they have, Marty, Zero, and Axl all look at him and think: "Yeah. We can take him." Cut to him being kicked on the ground. He doesn't get to insert the mystery gem into Axl's head. They make sure he's too dead to pull a fast one like that. Marty brings moondust home for X.
And once the alternate version of Command Mission takes place and all of The Horrors have successfully been stopped, Marty and X get married and live the rest of the rest of their days out at sea with their found family in peace, potentially featuring the Guardians as their children.
MartyX but Marty is trying to undoom X from his tragic narrative.
To embrace the wonders of freedom without the burdens of destiny. Break free from the shackles of fate and cast away your thorned crown!
I want Marty to take X away and let him enjoy life!! Be a pirate!! Let’s go to the sea together!
Well technically they have the fight but he can be a diplomat and see the world in a different angle! Se different points of views human and reploids views! The law isn’t the only answer!
I love the idea of the chosen one character to break free from their destiny and choose their own path! Especially the rebel character being the one to show them that there’s another way!!!
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lavenderspence · 4 months ago
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Bump Relief - S.R.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader
Word Count: 1.8K
Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try
Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife? 
A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy! 
masterlist | requests are closed!
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Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were. 
He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years. 
But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.
At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you. 
But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester. 
Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose. 
He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it. 
Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped. 
He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack. 
He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it. 
But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more. 
He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again. 
Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though. 
“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts. 
“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.” 
“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.
“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through. 
“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow. 
He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes. 
“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.
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You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath. 
Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really. 
It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop. 
Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.
You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly. 
You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.  
Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes. 
Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.
You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door. 
“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad. 
You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”
You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over. 
Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.
“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.
“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work. 
“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch. 
With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours. 
“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words. 
“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there. 
His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too. 
“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise. 
You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up. 
“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe. 
He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down. 
“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”
“What are we doing again?” 
“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper. 
“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved,  thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband. 
“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment. 
“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care. 
He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would. 
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Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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incognit0slut · 6 months ago
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Stress Relief
You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer
Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘
A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.
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You could tell something was off. 
A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air. 
"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"
Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.
"Babe?"
His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"
When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.
Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.
"Bad day at work?"
He slowly nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want a hug?"
He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.
"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"
You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.
Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.
"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"
His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" 
"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."
You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"
Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control? 
He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.
But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now. 
So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."
He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."
"What makes you think I need help?"
"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."
Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"
"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."
"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.
"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."
His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze. 
"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."
“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."
"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused." 
You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.
"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."
His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."
The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.
"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."
You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"
There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.
“I… I don't understand."
"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."
"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.
You swallowed hard.
"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."
He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.
"And what if I do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I know what I want."
He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"
You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."
His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."
You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."
He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.
"I want to see how far you'll go for me."
Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"
A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."
"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."
His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.
A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.
"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"
You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 
"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.
With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.
“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.
“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."
Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.
You wanted him to use your body.
“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”
His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.
His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. 
He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."
You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.
"Do I make myself clear?"
You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."
His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room. 
With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.
You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt. 
Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.
He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.
Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."
Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.
The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.
His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.
The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.
You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.
Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.
"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”
You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.
"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."
Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. 
You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.
For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.
"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.
He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?" 
"Pl-Please touch me."
He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"
You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."
His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"
"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit. 
"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.
His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.
Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you. 
Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.
He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.
You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head.  But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.
"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"
He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one." 
How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.
Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.
His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.
Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.
It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.
He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds. 
You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.
"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."
Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.
"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"
You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"
Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you. 
And you liked it.
"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."
He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.
You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.
He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.
Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.
"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."
You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.
Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.
He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.
Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.
His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.
You were instantly gone.
A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his. 
“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.
He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.
Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.
You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor. 
After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.
“Are you okay?"
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""
"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."
"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.
"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach. 
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."
Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.
Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."
His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."
A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"
You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."
You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin. 
"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."
You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."
He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"
"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”
"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"
His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?" 
You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."
His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."
You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"
"I think we both need that nice warm bath."
You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"
He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you? 
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
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lxnarphase · 5 months ago
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━━ ❝ it's sticky, toshi... ❞
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : you help ushijima finally realize that he's got a breeding kink
ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...cw : u. wakatoshi x fem!reader, dirty talk, messy and wet, teasing, marathon sex, pet names, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy, ushijima can't stop cumming
ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : haikyuu save me, save me ushijima wakatoshi, SAVE ME !! anyways hi i spent 150$ on ushijima merch yesterday and i don't regret it, so say hello to my haikyuu phase coming back !!!
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ushijima having a breeding kink isn't a surprise to you at all.
what is surprising is how long it takes for him to figure it out.
sure, at first it wasn't clear, but after being with him for so long, you quickly pick up on whenever he'd mutter in your ear as he slid his stupidly big cock inside of you, saying how badly he wished he could cum inside of you instead in the condom.
afterwards, he's so focused on cleaning you up and making sure you felt good and satisfied, you don't get a chance to question him on it. not that you were complaining, ushijima is so cute when he's asking if you need anything and constantly reminds you to get up and go use the bathroom.
it's even cuter when he realizes you can't walk.
"ah. i'm sorry, i didn't realize how hard i went...here, let me help."
eventually, you to suggest things to ushijima, trying to test out the waters with him.
you start by just asking if he’d want to fuck you without the condom, what he thought about cumming inside, even jokingly saying you’d make him a dad one day.
but it seems like that last part was swimming around his head for a while...he can't get the thought of you getting chubby and round with his kid out of your head. and knowing he'd be able to take care of you all the time? that thought alone made him shiver a little.
what can he say, he loves doting on you more than anything.
however, you aren't expecting the way he reacted weeks after dealing with your teasing and questioning, fueling the thoughts swirling inside his head.
"toshi, if you ever cum inside me, you should set it as your phone background! actually, wait, no, because what if your teammates see it..."
"..."
"mm, maybe a video instead? ooh, yeah, i want a video of you cumming in me then pullin' out so i can see it spill out, toshtosh, would you do that f' me?"
he doesn't reply and doesn't give you a chance to comment again. the visual you painted in his mind just too much for him.
next thing you know, ushi's got you folded in half on the bed, making sure you feel every drag of his stupidly fat cock against your hot gummy walls. he's pulling out to just the tip before slamming back inside you, groaning each time you let out a whimper of his name or squeeze down on him.
"toshi, t-toshi! h-hoohmygod, please, baby, c-calm down, 'm sorry f' teasin', oh my goddd...!"
you're so fucking wet and noisy, he wants to make you be quiet because he feels like your going to make him cum too fast but he'd never ever do it as the thought of not being able to hear you is painful.
he's lost track of time, your cunt making him brainless as he pumps his cock in and out of you as he groans your name, one of his hands pinning your arms to your back while the other presses your head into the pillows.
"s-shhh, honey, let...let me make you feel good, y're so loud..."
it's so fucking messy and sloppy, his cum is dripping out of your tight pussy from how many times he’s emptied his load into you, but he still isn’t stopping, no, he can't. it’s leaking from between your thighs, leaving a milky white sheen on his dick, dripping down onto the bedsheets.
"m-mmh, nooo, toshi, don' wanna be quiet, i-i wan' you to hear how good you make me feel, baby," you purr between moans, knowing that your voice was enough to get him off. the throb of his dick inside of you told you that you were right.
“i...i thought 'bout fucking you like this all day, during practice…that i’d fuck you full of my cum, get it so deep inside you," he mutters with a grunt, moving his hands off you so he could drape himself over your back.
"f-fuck, everyone knew something was off, kageyama kept asking me if-if was okay, how 'm i 'posed to tell him my pretty little honey is waiting at home for me to fill them with my cum?”
with an affirming coo, you manage to tilt your head to the side to look over your shoulder, wanting to see how ushijima is holding up and god, the sight is so sinful.
ushijima's dripping in sweat, his bottom lip swollen and puffy from his teeth digging into it. his fluffy hair is messy and sticking to his damp forehead, and his eyes are shut, squeezing in pleasure when the head of his cock brushed against that sweet spot just right, making your cunt spasm around him.
but his eyes keep opening to see the mess between the both of you. each thrust causes his cum to spill out around him, loud, wet squelches filling the bedroom. and it's only fueling his need to fill you up again, and again, and again, until he can’t anymore.
ushijima can’t stop himself, flipping you over onto your back and folding you into a mating press and, god, he's so fucking happy he did. the way you sob his name, your nails clawing at his back as you cry in pleasure about how much deeper he is now driving him insane.
“t-toshi, cum in me, please, wanna make you a daddy, please.” “I know, baby, I’ll give you all of it, fuck you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”
“i-i know, honey, i’ll give you all of it, stuff you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”
fuck, he’s so loud, he sounds so good. ushi's deep, drawn out groans and pants of your name making you go dizzy, his big hands squeezing your waist tightly each time your hands tug at his hair.
“mm, fuck, that’s right, take all my cum, look at you, so good, can you take more? let...let me cum in you again, baby, you promised you’d make me a daddy, right? i-i need to make sure it sticks.”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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signedsfs · 1 month ago
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I've got some great fuckin news
Once again got a bee in my bonnet to spend a night doing obscure fandom research to make a point, so. For all those people who keep making the annoying, "Tim keeps '''stealing'' other peoples' names" comments -- have a table.
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Everyone with a check mark has used that codename at some point in DC's 80+ year continuity -- Elseworlds and alternate dimensions/timelines count, adaptations (movies, video games, cartoons, etc.) don't unless they've got comic book tie-ins, and neither do in-universe dream sequences/illusions/fantasies/other narrative elements that are objectively "not real" within the boundaries of the fiction.
A purple marker indicates an element that only applies in Elseworlds or alternate timelines. Yellow is for the originator of the legacy title. Star symbol is for borderline cases/extenuating circumstances/it's open to interpretation (with some further elaboration below).
The "other" column is just there to account for people who've held lesser or non-legacy titles, like Renegade, Wingman, Arkham Knight, Drake, Redbird, Talon, Deadman, Black Bat, Orphan and Catwoman.
Point being: the people who have actually gone through the most legacy titles in this family are Dick, Babs and Jason, tied with 5 each (again, not counting "other;" if we counted those separately Dick would've had by far the most). Tim is tied with Steph AND Helena Wayne, so unless you're whining about them "stealing other peoples' names" you're just wrong, and they're all only one higher than Damian, Carrie and Bruce.
This is a legacy family that passes their codenames up and down the inheritance line. It's what they do. It's not a legitimate criticism to level at one character and not the others. Please get over it.
EDIT: I realize after posting this that I missed some colors on the table, mostly with Babs' Elseworld only roles (Batwoman and Nightwing) but I'm too tired to go back and correct them; refer to the info below for more details.
---
Further elaboration on some of the lesser known/niche cases:
- Bruce uses the Robin ID in Superman & Batman: Generations
- In the second half of Thrillkiller ‘62, Babs cuts her hair and dons the Robin costume worn by her deceased partner Dick to get revenge on his killer; however the only name ever used for her in the series is Batgirl
- Cassandra was a member of the Robins orphan gang from Dark Knights of Steel.
- Duke was a member of the We Are Robins gang, as well as the aforementioned DKS orphan gang, and has appeared as Robin in a couple of Elseworlds, including I believe a White Knight spin-off.
- Cass was Batwoman in one of the versions of the Titans Tomorrow, as was Bette Kane, depending on changes to the timeline.
- Babs is Batwoman in the Batman ‘66 comics and in the 1980 story “The Secret Origin of Bruce (Superman) Wayne”
- Earth-3 Steph is Batwoman in Young Justice 2019.
- Helena Wayne is Batwoman in the possible future story Last Rites
- Tim is a member of the Batgirls vigilante/little league baseball team in the DC Bombshells universe, as is Cullen Row. Some call them the “Batboys” instead. I call those people cowards.
- Helena Bertinelli wore the costume that would later become Cass’s signature Batgirl look during No Man’s Land. However, she was more often referred to as “The Bat” and her Batgirl status is up to individual interpretation.
- Dick didn’t originate the Nightwing name, it started with Clark in the Silver Age.
- Steph has never been Nightwing. The panel where she appears in the costume is a Black Mercy illusion that happens only in her own mind. It’s a dream sequence.
- Barbara was Nightwing in the Smallville Season 11 comics.
- Terry was briefly Nightwing in volume 4 of Batman Beyond.
- Damian briefly became Nightwing after accidentally killing Dick in the Injustice series.
- Dick is Oracle in the “Eight Wonders of the World” version of Earth 2 (aka the Black Superman dimension)
#batrant#I don't have to rant just to drop a great fic link but....the original post#in this house we love....tables. we love graphs. we love data and facts and autism#anyway becoming a Tim Drake fan is the worst thing that's ever happened to me send help#how come when other characters get misinterpreted they get Benefits or at least Shallow But Positive Caricatures#but I get 'tim is boring he's just there he doesn't do anything'#'tim is just a sexist asshole he's not even that good' 'tim is so pathetic he has beef with a 9 year old for literally no reason'#'tim is incapable of doing anything ever' 'tim is just a tiny bruce (derogatory)' 'tim deserves Every Bad Thing actually'#'tim is overrated' (where???) 'I see him everywhere' (sHOW ME WHERE...I WANT TO LIVE THERE) 'they make him too perfect' (I DOUBT IT)#'they make everyone coddle him' (maybe he Deserves It after getting Decades of NO CODDLING AT ALL)#'he doesn't have a Thing' (bitch he IS the thing) 'he stole everything from Dick' (Dick also 'Stole' shit from Tim#Robins literally share so much shit across media that some people don't know there's more than one)#(...cannot believe I read with my own eyes that DICK was the first Robin with pants.....IN KINGDOM COME.)#side note: Tim started calling his shit Redname BEFORE Dick became Red Robin. so I've decided that shit was always meant to be his :)#side side note: DAMIAN GOT NAMED AFTER TIM'S FUCKING CAR BUT WHO'S TALKING ABOUT THAT???#people think Tim's a self-insert but he has.....traits that are. definitely not something you would give a normal blank self-insert#like even from his Intro...were most comic readers little stalker freaks that wanted to travel alone to a hero's civilian home???#little weirdos that wanted to watch their heroes with binoculars?? and break into their old apartment to look for clues and steal shit??#did readers want to be the first and only Explicitly Unwanted But 'Needed' Robin that Defined just how Bad everyone was doing??#did they beg to be parentified and made responsible for grownass adults' violent outbursts despite not being Trapped in the situation???#were readers inserting themselves on That???? Tim sometimes has relatable shit Happen To Him but his Reactions.....#he is not a blank self-insert. he is not there to have a good cathartic time. he's there to suffer and be a punching bag.#also...I know it's Fanon that Tim stalked them Nightly (a fanon I will Always engage with god bless) but like#he Did get Concerningly Clear Close-ups of a Fast-Paced Fight for his 'first time'. he Did have info that he couldn't get from the news.#he Did have a concerning amount of ease with crossing state lines alone to 'follow' Dick Grayson.#and he was sure fuckin quick on that shutter button for someone who had No interest in photography/Never Once stalked his heroes up close.#I don't necessarily think he got rescued by Jason or eavesdropped on a bunch of important events or anything but like...I just think.#he lived in Multiple Residences within Gotham. not in Bristol. he didn't have to bike anywhere to see them. I'm just fuckin saying.
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