#society if this had succeeded. who said that

[werewolfetone]

418 slutty, slutty years

[determinate-negation]

“Prior to October 7th, between 170-200,000 Palestinians worked in Israel (roughly 75% with work permits—with around 90% of these permits going to Palestinians living in the occupied West Bank). After October 7th, nearly all Palestinian workers were fired, their work permits revoked, and their range of movement, already limited, restricted even further. The economic damage has been immense particularly in construction and agriculture, where the majority of Palestinians had been employed (it is an aspect of Zionist cruelty that Palestinians—a highly educated people—should be confined to low-wage manual labor employment in two of the primary economic sectors which have been used to advance their dispossession). To provide the starkest example: the construction industry, which accounts for 6-7% of Israeli GDP was, as of December 2023, operating at only 30% of its pre-October capacity, and fully half of all building projects were on hold.

Although business interests were able to pressure the government to allow a paltry 8–10,000 Palestinians back to work in December, the short- and long-term solutions to the problem of Israeli dependence on Palestinian labor (and, indeed, for the Zionist it has always been a problem) appears to be the increasing importation of foreign workers from Asia and Eastern Europe, particularly Thailand and India. It should be noted that Israel has used debt—the result of exorbitant “placement fees” charged by recruiters in workers’ home countries—to trap many foreign workers in hyper-exploitative working conditions enforced by geographic isolation. This is the paradigmatic form of modern slavery. Even if cheap imported labor were to get the construction industry back on track, the war has also resulted in the downgrading of Israel’s credit rating, a sharp decline in imports and exports, the almost complete pause of its tourism industry, a snowballing cancelation of arms deals the world over and, in the case of Turkey, trade relations as well, yielding an almost 20% contraction of its annualized GDP.

With these numbers, it could be said that Israel’s present genocide against the Palestinians harms both its short-term and long-term economic interests, sacrificed for the drive to extermination. But the enforced economic obsolescence of the Palestinians must be understood as integral to the drive for their extermination. Employing the brute force of siege, Israel has succeeded in cutting many Palestinians off from much of the global economy—now, entirely in the case of Gaza, and increasingly so in the case of the West Bank. Even those who are able to run businesses with international clientele face delays or de facto bans from cash-transfer sites like PayPal, and imports, exports, and access to certain goods are all controlled and restricted by Israel. These restrictions limit access to raw materials, affecting the types of industry Palestine is capable of sustaining, and limiting prospects for economic development.

Palestinians' limited access to the global economy in turn nurtures a dependency on Israeli goods and employment. But this dependency cuts both ways—Israel has grown dependent on Palestinian labor, which renders Palestinians necessary to the functioning of the Israeli economy and also creates barriers against their total social exclusion (not only in the sense that this labor requires social interaction with the Israeli populace). As Bataille writes in The Psychological Structure of Fascism, “money serves to measure all work and makes man a function of measurable products. According to the judgment of homogenous society, each man is worth what he produces.” In capitalist society, productivity becomes the prerequisite to admittance to social life. To totalize race-based social exclusion, then, the target population must be rendered economically obsolete. “As early as 1895,” Fayez Sayegh notes, “Herzl was busy devising a plan to ‘spirit the penniless population across the frontier by denying it employment.’”

Nazi Germany understood this as well: the 1938 “Regulation for the Elimination of the Jews from the Economic Life of Germany” completed the work begun three years prior by the Nuremberg Laws, which stripped Jews and other groups of their citizenship and enshrined racial classification and separation into law. “The Jewish middleman,” Adorno and Horkheimer write, “fully becomes the image of the devil only when economically he has ceased to exist.” In apartheid society, in which the target population is seen as subhuman, or at least undeserving of rights or consideration, the wage remains one of the last means of verifying their humanity: beasts may be productive, but they do not earn a wage. The attempted elimination of Palestinian labor from the Israeli economy marks one of the final steps on the way to their full dehumanization in the Zionists’ eyes, one that prepared the way for the present mass extermination.

Zionism is not, then, a race-based system of economic exploitation at its core, though it does benefit from such exploitation: it is, first and foremost, a program of land acquisition. We can see the dual attack on Palestinian economic self-determination and land ownership in Israel’s routine destruction of Palestinian olive groves. Settlers, often armed or otherwise protected by armed agents of the state, uproot, burn, or cut down olive trees, with increasing frequency since 2019. The aim is to drive Palestinians from their land by destroying the subsistence produced by the land itself and nurtured over centuries by Palestinian farmers, in an effort to “Judaize” the area. As Palestinians flee from unchecked violence, forced from their land at the barrel of a gun, Jewish settlements appear in their wake, strictly illegal but in practice facilitated by the state until they are eventually recognized and assimilated into the legally regulated regime of property. (The whole cycle of legalizing illegal settlements, in any event, is something of a formality as their existence and proliferation is the entire raison d’être of the Zionist project.) When Palestinians refuse to leave and cannot be forced, they are murdered.”

Jake Romm, Elements of Anti-Semitism: The Limits of Zionism in Parapraxis Mag

[solar-wing]

⚣ Nightwing & Shadow 🌃

⚣🌃 A/N → So, remember when I said I wasn't going to re-write and re-vamp Nightwing and Shadow like I did Primal? Hehe, funny story... I lied. HOWEVER, I did follow the original plot line...sort of. Just made it easier and smoother to read, along with SOME proofreading and fixing SOME grammar mistakes. So, this should roll out much faster than before (that also is possibly a lie knowing me). WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | MAJOR THEMES of NON-CON/DUB-CON | Omegaverse | YANDERE Behavior | Mentions of Blood | Bondage | Lactation Kink | M-Preg | Oral Sex | Knotting | Implied Stalking |

⚣🌃 Summary → A new vigilante, Shadow, takes to the streets of Gotham, protecting its innocent Omegas against arrogant and brutish Alphas and the arbitrary and oppressive laws that support their criminal-like behavior. Yet, what will he do when in both his civilian and vigilante lives, he's plagued by the very same problems he's fighting against?

⚣🌃 Words → 11.1K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🌃

Welcome to Gotham City.

Known for its less-than-sunny atmosphere and crime-riddled streets, the city holds many titles under its mantle. One of them being ‘Utter Hell for Omegas.’

In the old days, Omegas were rarely seen as love interests, romantic partners, or even just random associates you’d nod at on the street. Nope, they always had two roles attached to their titles; Fuck-Toys and/or Baby-Makers.

Not much has changed in the present day, save for a few laws passed here and there that criminalized some behaviors. In truth, these new laws and punishments were the equivalent of putting a toddler in time-out before rewarding them with a cookie later for acting like they were ashamed of their behavior.

It seemed like every day, another Omega was being abused by an Alpha who never understood the meaning of ‘no’ because they were raised in a society where everything was supposed to be ‘yes’ for them. Taken against their will and made to live in truly cage-like homes with partners who could only be called that when it came to legal documents.

In reality, they weren��t partners. They were masters, abductors, and delusional sociopaths who relied on biology and society to abuse and take the things they wanted rather than earn them.

They never saw the Omegas they were stripping of free will and autonomy as partners, or friends, or even humans for that matter. They saw them as possessions, things to own and show off to their friends and family as a symbol of how great they were and how well they were doing in life.

And Gotham was the breeding ground for these types of men and women.

Some would call it for what it was; ownership and power. They had no shame or morals about the acts they would commit. Others dared to call it romance, claiming that true love drove them to these vile acts and oppressive rules.

If this is what they called love, it’d be interesting to see what they’d do if they hated you.

Yet, progressing times meant more progressive and outspoken minds. Many, including some Alphas and Betas who held somewhat decent morals and values, were calling for change. They were protesting to their local, regional, and national governments for Omega liberation.

Of course, no revolution has ever started, let alone succeeded without someone getting their hands dirty.

Enter our hero, Y/N, and his story which some would argue was the ultimate catalyst that led to the fight for Omega Rights and Protections pushing toward victory.

Y/N lived a relatively quiet life in Gotham. Born and raised in the city, his parents taught him from a young age not only how to navigate this world in a way where he protected himself, but also equipped him with the means to do so if need be.

He was trained in the art of self-defense from the moment he had his first incident in school, when the signs of biological dynamics were becoming more and more clear, and some bigger kids decided to pick on him for it. 

His mother, an Omega herself, saw this and immediately went to her husband, Y/N’s father, and demanded they get him in lessons. He agreed and they began scouting classes the very next day. 

Y/N was blessed enough to see what a truly happy and healthy relationship between an Alpha and Omega was like from his parents. His father, bless his soul, never subscribed to the ideology that Alphas were the superior dynamic and held power over those below them, especially Omegas.

No, he fell in love with his Omega, genuinely in love we should say and not that obsessive and creepy kind where they excuse their horrible actions because of said ‘love’. No, he courted and adored her as nature intended, and their story eventually brought Y/N into existence whom they also loved and cherished as if he was the most valuable treasure on Earth.

Fast forward to the present, Y/N was a strong and stead-fast individual who didn’t let his biological dynamic hold him back from what he was meant to achieve. Seeing how different the world was from how his parents raised him, he made it his ultimate purpose to see to the change and betterment of society that included protections and rights for Omegas in Gotham and beyond.

In school, he studied business and politics, which landed him a position at Wayne Enterprises post-graduation, where he surprisingly had the backing of Bruce Wayne, CEO and heir to the very company he was employed by. He voiced his support and even dedicated teams to his mission which initiated the spread to other companies and beyond.

If a powerhouse like Wayne Enterprises was supporting ideas and notions of Omega Liberation and rights, many companies would soon follow. And as many know in this world, money talks. Politicians want to keep their investors and backers happy, so they’ll more than likely support whatever it is they’re claiming to support.

Though, appearances can be deceiving. Just because these companies would take up the mantle that they were for Omega rights, didn’t mean their actions would show that. And if there was one thing Y/N prided himself on, was being able to see bullshit for what it was; bullshit.

It didn’t deter him, though. It inspired him.

When Y/N sat and thought about it, he realized the thing that started and fueled most rebellions and movements was a symbol. An icon or an example that truly represented the meaning and impact behind said movement. And his meaning or idea was justice.

Justice for all Omegas who had been or had yet to be wronged by a system designed to hold them down in chains for others to use and abuse. He also sought liberation not only for those living today but future generations where they didn’t have to live in a world where they weren’t seen as people or equals.

What could be that symbol?

Conveniently, as Y/N sat in the living room of his moderately luxurious apartment, he looked out the window to see a symbol being cast in the sky. A symbol many residents of Gotham were all too familiar with.

The Bat Symbol.

And that’s when it hit him…

True, Gotham was a city known for its less-than-friendly streets and crime-filled alleys, but if the stories his parents told him were to be believed, Gotham was much worse before Batman began protecting its civilians, along with his numerous sidekicks and partners.

Seriously, why does it seem like Batman, or Gotham in general gets a new hero or vigilante every year? Kind of weird when you think about it.

Yet, they were about to get another one as Y/N had made up his mind. He knew the symbol his movement needed, the inspiration that was lacking for so many Omegas in Gotham and outside of it.

They needed to believe that they could stand up for change. That they could fight back and be victorious against their abusers. There was no such thing as biology not being on their side as much as it was their own belief not being on their side.

Omegas needed something, someone they could look up to, someone they could see fighting back and say “If they can do it, so can I.”

Y/N was going to be that symbol.

Thus, Shadow was born.

A bit cringe when you think about it, but the desired effect was still there.

Using his self-defense skills that never went without practice with his growing up and living in Gotham, as well as a couple of connections with some engineering friends from college, Y/N or Shadow was set to be Gotham’s newest vigilante and protector.

With their help, he created his own style of weapons and utility tools to help him out on the battlefield. Most notable were a pair of twin-style blades that when tossed or thrown, expanded out into throwing discs. They were magnetized to each other as well which threw out the need for grappling hooks when he could just toss one forward and use the other to pull himself forward.

He dubbed them Shadowblades.

Yes, still cringe, but aesthetics are everything when it comes to this kind of work.

It helped to have rich friends, especially when it came to his outfit. While, of course, Y/N couldn’t have everyone he knew getting involved in this project, he only reached out to those he knew he could truly trust as they would have just as much to lose if Y/N was to ever be caught and unmasked.

As mentioned before, aesthetics were everything when it came to these ordeals, so his outfit had to match his name. The color scheme consisted of a shadowy black and purple along with a domino mask that had gold covers in the slits to keep his eyes hidden as well.

Skintight (as usual), but flexible and functional. It was also light enough to accentuate Y/N’s smaller and leaner body frame. However, it did nothing to hide the dump truck from behind.

“Nightwing would be put to shame,” A comment from one of his friends who took it upon themselves to jokingly cop a feel. Y/N ‘jokingly’ tossed one of his blades at them as a warning, which they clearly received seeing how close the spinning blades came to their face before zipping back and folding close in his hand.

That did it. Shadow was a force to be reckoned with.

The moment Y/N hit the scene with his new outfit and weapons, ripples were being made in the city. It didn’t take long for Shadow to become a recognizable name and face in Gotham, some dubbing him the Omega Savior with all of his notable rescues and actions.

Within the first few months of Shadow being a presence in Gotham, he’d not only thrown a few dirty Alpha dogs behind bars for attempted rape and abduction but also stopped a major Omega trafficking ring happening right in the city, as well as liberated a few captives from their abusive homes and partners.

Unsurprisingly, with the trafficking ring, Y/N discovered many links and connections from that operation to people who were big-name executives and even CEOs at major companies. Even more shocking (not), some of those companies were the same ones that took up the mantle of supporting Omega rights and freedoms.

Discreet as ever, Y/N wasted no time in ‘suggesting’ that Wayne Enterprises cut all deals and partnerships with these companies, which helped earn him a promotion when the scandals were eventually revealed to the public. This ended up putting him more on Bruce Wayne’s radar who delivered his promotion news personally himself.

In every story, there’s a turning point. Many know the structure that many books, movies, and even shows will follow with the inciting incident that leads to the rising action until you reach the climax, where things typically turn for the worse.

For Y/N, that moment was when Bruce conveniently decided to introduce him to his first adopted son at the same time he was delivering his promotion news, Richard Grayson, or Dick for short. Little did he know how much Dick was about to invade his life.

But, everyone deserves a little teaser, right?

Shortly after Bruce introduced them, he had to leave for a meeting, leaving the two alone in Y/N’s new office. It wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable, at least for the Omega who was wary of being left in a room alone with an unfamiliar Alpha, despite how famous he was.

Yet, Dick seemed to keep a respectable front, only coming as close as he deemed allowed while making small talk, and congratulating Y/N on his new promotion. The Omega gave his thanks while setting his things up on his new desk and shelves.

Now, despite earlier thoughts and possible assumptions, Y/N was no prude. Just because he fought against Alpha abuse and their entitlement didn’t mean he didn’t have his fair share of interest and attractions.

And Dick Grayson did spark his interest. The man was undeniably handsome and had a body many either desired to touch or have. But, Y/N knew self-restraint, and sad as it may be, in this world, he knew to practice caution with whom he showed his attraction.

Dick, however, did not follow the same line of thinking. Of course, why would he if the world was made for him to not have to?

He noticed one of Y/N’s gazes towards him and took that as all the sign he needed to make his move. When Bruce said he was going to deliver the good news initially to the Omega, Dick all but demanded he bring him along. The former acrobat had his eyes on Y/N ever since he first started, and was waiting for the perfect chance to swoop in and make his claim.

Dick did have the right idea that Y/N was not the easy type, and would probably try to resist his charming suaveness. He hadn’t met anyone before who had such luck, so he wasn’t worried. In fact, the idea of a potential challenge made him all the more bold.

And he showed that boldness by closing the distance between him and the Omega while his back was turned, pressing himself against his backside. Dick was not shy about letting Y/N feel what he had packing down there while he in return got a feel of what he had decided was now going to be his.

Y/N immediately jumped at the touch and turned to move himself away but was held in place by the adopted Wayne who leaned forward, pressing his hard chest against the Omega’s while leaning his lips down their his ear. 

“Feel like breaking in the new desk?” Dick whispered hotly into his ear, pressing his very noticeable throbbing appendage against Y/N’s backside, the layer of clothes between them doing nothing to help mitigate the sensation.

Y/N could feel his instincts urging him to submit and present himself to the Alpha. He was no stranger to rumors and gossip and heard the many tales of Dick Grayson’s, well… dick, from many of his co-workers. Despite Bruce’s very relaxed rule about employees having relations with his family.

Though the temptation was there to see if the rumors were true, he was not about to let himself become another number or name in Dick’s or anyone's black book. He had to remain a symbol.

“Sorry, but I prefer to keep things a bit professional. And, frankly, you don’t meet my criteria.” Y/N sarcastically remarked.

“Oh, come on,” Dick smirked against the side of Y/N’s face, slowly grinding himself against him a little harder while rubbing one of his hands up his side, feeling the hot skin of the Omega under his silk-white button-up. “Don’t tell me you have a rule against workplace sex. Or are you worried because I’m the boss’s son? If you don’t tell, I won’t.”

Dick began pressing soft kisses against Y/N’s skin, now using both of his hands to rub up Y/N’s front, slowly beginning to undo the buttons. The Omega had to admit that he was good with his hands and lips, and he could definitely see some truth in his co-worker's words about the man’s hip control. But, logic wasn’t out of his mind yet.

Y/N began to use his arms to push back against the desk, creating a little room while the Alpha was distracted with trying to reach inside his shirt. He pushed off the desk, creating enough momentum to throw Dick off balance and allow him the chance to step out of his grasp, immediately moving to the other side of the room putting distance between the two.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Dick mocked.

“Not for you. One of my criteria is not being a self-entitled brat who only thinks with his dick, and that’s just to get a text back.” Y/N rudely articulated. He quickly fixed the buttons on his shirt while the Alpha ogled his body up and down with no shame.

“If you come back over here, I’ll show you why everyone calls me Dick.”

He scoffed before exiting out of the room, marching himself to Bruce’s office. His assistant, Wyndall, was sitting at his desk, looking at the storm that was an angry Y/N who demanded to know if Bruce was in a meeting.

Wyndall was one of the only other few Omegas alongside Y/N who worked (relatively) this high in the company, so they both found friendship in one another and would often meet up for lunch to hang out and talk. So, when he saw his friend storming in the way he did, he knew something had to be wrong and immediately paged Mr. Wayne.

Given the okay, Y/N went into the office and, to keep a long story short, had a very heated discussion with Mr. Wayne that definitely did not end in him threatening to castrate his son if he came near him again. And, hypothetically if it did, Bruce respected it.

Y/N understandably made demands that if Dick was going to be present on company property at any time, he be notified in advance and not left alone with him at any point. He also made sure it was clear on the Alpha’s part that he was to have no contact or even attempt any with him and to keep his distance at all times, should they ever be in the same room together.

Bruce agreed to everything without a second thought and apologized on his son’s behalf, which, in truth, didn’t surprise Y/N as his boss always had been understanding and accommodating since he started at Wayne Enterprises. Y/N had to admit that the billionaire was one of the few Alphas that gave him hope in his vision for the future.

That was only the beginning of his troubles though. Not only did Y/N have to deal with pesky Alphas in his civilian life, but he had to deal with it in his vigilante one as well.

As more time went by with Shadow cleaning up the streets and helping more Omegas by the day, he eventually caught the attention of the city’s other ‘defenders’. This is when Y/N learned how ‘possessive’ Batman was of Gotham and didn’t appreciate some newbie moving on his turf without checking with him first.

He didn’t give Y/N the grace of making an appearance himself, but he did send his lackeys, or ‘team’ after him. Thankfully, none of them could keep up with him in the field, given his natural speed and agility. A credit to his Omega nature.

Only one could keep up with him though, and that’s where his Alpha troubles began as Shadow. Nightwing, Gotham’s second most famous vigilante, seemed to make it his personal mission to catch Y/N, and unlike the others, gave the Omega a run for his money the way he managed to keep up with his elusive ways.

The first night they met, which also happened to be the first night he made contact with someone from Batman’s team, he wasn’t surprised to discover he was being tailed and watched. He was expecting them at some point to try and make contact with him.

Though, in hindsight, he expected more of a welcoming, collaborative approach and less of a threatening, hostile trying to capture him one. 

Shadow had just finished dealing with a couple of Alpha thugs who were trying to force themselves on an innocent Omega when Batman’s first sidekick made his appearance. Just after he finished tying up the mammoths, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

Immediately grabbing his blades from his sides, he turned to find Nightwing standing just a few short feet away from him, blocking the way out of the alley. Y/N had to admit, Nightwing was definitely a lot more attractive in person. Not that he wasn’t from far away, but you could appreciate the view more up close.

“So, you’re the new kid on the block that has Batman all worked up? Have to say, I wasn’t expecting this when he asked me to check you out, but I’m not disappointed,” The taller man spoke, the shadows around his face barely hiding the suggestive glance he was giving the Omega.

“I get the feeling you’re doing a lot more than just checking out.”

“Guilty.” Nightwing chuckled.

Shadow’s facemask hid his annoyed eye roll, suddenly wishing it was Red Hood or Robin he was dealing with instead. From what he heard, they tended to get to their point a lot faster.

“Well, I’d say I’m flattered, but I did promise my mother I’d never lie. Anyway, I’m assuming you’re here on behalf of the Bat himself.” Y/N inquired, wanting to just get to the point so he could get back to doing his work.

“Yeah, Dark Knight would like a word with you. Not really pleased with you moving in on his turf. Can’t say I agree with him, though. I’m sure many have appreciated your touch around here.”

Cue another annoyed eye roll from Shadow. Between him and Dick, he didn’t know who had it worse when deciding to try and flirt at the most inopportune times. And it looked like it was going to be a draw.

“Now, my instructions were to give you the chance to come on your own and, if not, use whatever external measures as needed. But, I’m willing to forgo this little meeting in my memory if you’ll give me something worth forgetting.”

“And what exactly would that be?” As if Y/N didn’t already know what the smug Alpha was getting towards.

“I know you help and save Omegas, but what about poor Alphas in need?”

“Assuming you’re the Alpha in question, what exactly would you need?”

“The touch and comfort of a sweet and savory Omega like yourself.”

It was cheesy and overused. A cliché at best and totally cringe at worst. But, Y/N couldn’t deny (try as he might) the attraction he felt stirring in his body. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in him itching to give in to the Alpha’s request.

It was like the feeling when you hear a sound or lyrics to a song and it reminds you of something, but you just can’t put your finger on it. And there was something oddly familiar about the vigilante that had Y/N’s curiosity piqued.

Yes, Y/N had standards and criteria for who he would decide to give his time to, but he couldn’t deny that Dick, and now Nightwing, both held something that made the idea of throwing both of those things out the window. But, again, his goal of being someone to look up to for him and all Omegas alike remained strong in his mind, so he went against his body’s sexual desires and instincts.

Was Nightwing attractive up close and afar? Arguably, yes. Did he appear to have a very nice and chiseled body under his skin tight suit? Also, arguably, yes. Yet, was he just as infuriating and annoying as every other persistent Alpha who couldn’t spell ‘Hint’ even with a dictionary in front of them?

Absolutely.

It was this thinking that helped Y/N come back to his state of mind before he faked a sultry smile on his face, walking forward to rub his hand down Nightwing’s chest (which, Jesus Christ, that motherfucker is FIRM). The Alpha smirked down at the Omega going to place his hands against his waist before getting the uno reverse of his life.

In some complicated flip and turn, Shadow managed to not only catch Nightwing off his guard but put him in a submission hold with his head and neck being squeezed between the Omega’s flexing thighs. What was that saying about saving lives? Because this seemed to be the opposite.

“Is this the comfort you were seeking,” Shadow maliciously teased the Alpha, while flexing his legs more, effectively choking out the Alpha. When he decided to release him, Nightwing fell to the ground coughing, trying to catch his breath while the Omega threw one of his blades to zip off.

“Next time, tell Batman to send Red Hood or Robin. They’re a bit more persuasive and less desperate.”

After that, Y/N made sure to be extra careful on his patrols, figuring Nightwing would not be as forgiving lest they meet again in another dark alley or atop a rooftop. His Alpha troubles were nowhere near over yet, especially in his civilian life.

Some time had passed after the incident between him and Dick at his job, and after having the janitorial and cleaning staff do a deep clean of his entire office which he tipped them graciously for (tip your service workers people), Bruce adhered to his conditions perfectly.

Whenever Dick was in the office, Y/N was immediately notified and he would have his schedule altered for the day to avoid any run-ins with the billionaire’s son. If there was an occasion where he couldn’t get out of it and the former acrobat was present, he kept his distance from him and was happy to see the other doing the same even if it looked like he didn’t want to.

You’d think with his tight schedules at work and his busy nightlife, the young Omega would barely have any time for fun and social things like parties and dating.

You’d be right. Y/N did not party at all, but he did find time to mix and mingle occasionally and had come up lucky in recent months. On a previous outing with some co-workers, after a successful deal had gone through, Y/N had met a nice and attractive Alpha who happened to be a friend of Wyndall’s.

His name was Leo and he was not only a fitness trainer, but also a teacher in self-defense arts and fighting. Guess what their first date was considering the mutual interest.

Dinner and a movie. Dirty minds think alike, huh?

But, Y/N truly felt like he was growing strong feelings for Leo. He was a respectable Alpha who treated him with nothing but kindness, respect, and love. Attentive, romantic, and very easy on the eyes, the more time he spent with the Alpha, the more he could imagine spending the rest of his life with him.

Of course, he was no fool, and though they were still relatively new to this relationship, he wasn’t going to let up yet, knowing the first year is usually when the prospective partner is always on their best behavior. Really it was six months, but he was being gracious since he liked him.

Y/N even brought him as his date to Bruce’s gala that was being held in his honor. A major deal had been made at Wayne Enterprises where they partnered with some of the biggest charities in the region to begin plans for creating homes and centers for Omegas who were victims of abusive homes and relationships as well as those who were saved from human trafficking.

At first, he was tempted to not go, but since he was being honored at the event for being the major showrunner for the entire project, it’d be rude for him not to show. Of course, Leo decided to make it a whole show and went out to rent a new tux as well as a limousine to take them to Wayne Manor where the event was being held.

To say Y/N felt like a prince being swept off his feet the entire night would have been an understatement. Not only was he impressed with Leo’s manners and dedication, but he also duly noted the Alpha’s restraint and control considering they hadn’t done the do yet, despite being almost half a year into their relationship.

And there were moments when they came close and the temptation was all too real. Contrary to the earlier joke, the Alpha and Omega did have more physical type dates, where they met in Leo’s gym and would practice different moves and fighting styles following both of their training.

As you can imagine when you bump and grind hot sweaty bodies against each other, at some point, things can get carried away at intervals, but Leo always pulled back, saying he wanted to respect Y/N’s decision and wait until they were both fully ready. Damn, having morals and respect for yourself can really take the fun out of things sometimes.

Anyway, the night went on without a hitch. Y/N mingled and greeted the guests as well as shook hands with a few important people Bruce wanted to introduce him to. He gave a speech and had a few more inside jokes with Leo about the stuffy and posh atmosphere these galas radiate.

Right when they were planning to make their exit, things of course had to get interesting.

“Evening, Y/N. Long time, no see. It’s good to see you.”

Y/N counted to five in his head, reminding himself where he was and that couldn’t introduce the back of his fist to Dick Grayson’s cheek, no matter how bad he wanted to. Their running into each other was inevitable, the Omega recognized that. Whether it was him who accidentally did it, or the billionaire’s son who intentionally did it, they were bound to run into each other again.

He remained civilized though. His mother always taught him how being an Omega in this world, people were going to try and push him more than any others just because they saw him as an easy target. She always said the moment you reacted, you proved them right, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be petty though…

“Dick, what a surprise. I’d say likewise, but you know how our Lord & Savior feels about lying,’ Y/N responded with a smile on his face but the sarcasm clearer than ever.

Leo chuckled to the side of him, and for a moment, a quick fleeing second, Dick’s cool and suave charade dropped, and Y/N saw how his attitude and lack of respect triggered the Alpha. The adopted Wayne managed to retain his instincts though, keeping a cool smile on his face.

“Ah, you’re funny. A lot funnier than I remember when we were in your office,” It was then Dick seemed to acknowledge the other presence standing before him, “And just who might this be? Your next conquest?” He inquired in a ‘joking’ manner.

That wasn’t appreciated, given the nasty grimace that wiped over Y/N’s face as he was about to respond with an equal if not more than childish insult. At least, until Leo decided to interject in.

“Actually, I’m his date. Though, I wouldn’t mind being a conquest if it came to that. It's better than showing up alone to an event like this with no one by my side. Speaking of, where’s your date?” Leo asked, an egotistical smile on his face as he stared down the other Alpha, already knowing the answer.

Dick looked more than aggravated, and despite his surprise at Leo’s snarkiness, it did not stop Y/N from laughing out loud, despite his failed attempts at concealing them. While the Omega would have loved to stand there a bit longer and see how interesting that encounter could have gotten, he knew better and decided that was a perfect time to make a strategic exit.

“Well, Dick, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I wouldn’t. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Dick.” Y/N said, quickly grabbing Leo’s arm and tugging him towards the main entrance.

When they reached the main hall, Leo went to give their valet card to the attendant standing by the door, while Y/N informed him he was going to use the bathroom quickly before they left. Both of them were oblivious to the shadow following behind the Omega.

Y/N found the bathroom and quickly did his business, however, he did take a small moment while using the toilet to admire the decor and pristine state of the bathroom.

“Oh, to be filthy rich and pee in luxury.”

After flushing and washing his hands, he was drying them off and was about to head for the door when it suddenly swung open and a familiar face entered.

“Dick! What the hell you fucking perv! Have you ever heard of knocking, or did Bruce forget that in etiquette training?”

“Funny,” Dick replied, his usual lighthearted tone gone, replaced by something dark and vexing. Y/N didn’t understand why he felt a small flutter in his abdomen at the tone of voice, but he chose to ignore that in favor of getting past the creepy Alpha.

“Yeah, I’m hilarious. Open the door, Dick. I’m not playing these games with you,” Y/N ordered.

“Who said anything about playing,” Dick asked, but he apparently wasn’t looking for an answer if the way he grabbed the Omega by his suit jacket and threw him against the sink was anything to go by.

“What the fuck! Get off of me!” Y/N shouted, pushing against the Alpha’s chest, but his smaller state compared to the acrobat put him at a slight disadvantage. If the hard and prominent muscles he felt under the jacket were anything to go by, he’d say Dick spent a fair amount of time in the gym. Made sense though, given his former circus background.

“Oh, come on. You can quit the act now.” Dick huffed while rubbing his hands down the Omega’s body, stopping right at his waist.

“What act? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” Y/N retorted, still pushing (groping) at the Alpha’s chest. He could feel Dick’s fingers prodding around his body, taking extra time to squeeze his ass before making their way further down his legs, lifting them and forcing them around the acrobat’s waist.

Dick’s smug look grew even more when he could see the Omega’s submissive instincts kicking in, feeling how less and less he was putting up a fight against his actions.

“This act. Look at you, slowly giving in and letting me take control of your body. I’ve dealt with plenty of bratty little Omegas like you. Playing the honorable and conservative role, only to give it up the second you get the attention you’ve been begging for. You almost had me fooled for a quick second. But, after seeing that sad excuse you brought here as a date, I realized your game immediately. I’ll admit it though, you managed to get what you wanted. I’ve never been as jealous before as I was watching you with him all night.”

While saying all this to Y/N, Dick had wrapped one of his arms around the Omega’s waist forcing his body forward on the marble sink and pushing his own against it. His hard and throbbing member was positioned at an angle in the Alpha’s trousers where the smaller male could almost make out the entire length and size of the throbbing tool, the way it was being ground against his pelvis.

That combined with the adopted Wayne’s ever-talented lips sucking and kissing at the Omega’s neck while sniffing the boy’s pheromones and cologne left a fog in Y/N’s mind that was hard to see past. No longer was he fighting back against Dick, but instead he was mindlessly rubbing and digging his fingers into the hard muscles of his chest and abs covered by his white dress shirt, something the Alpha held a smug satisfaction in.

“Oh, would you look at that? What happened to your high and mighty attitude? I thought you weren’t attracted to demanding and ‘barbaric’ Alphas like me? For the amount of crap you’ve talked, I figured you’d have more restraint than that.” Dick’s mocking words were a bit in cruel taste, but it was a taste Y/N couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

His smug attitude and confidence were attractive to the Omega, given the pleasurable tingles he could feel inside his underwear which were slowly getting wetter by the second. But, that was the very thing that confused him.

Y/N couldn’t count how many times he heard this similar or exact sentiment from another overly confident Alpha who felt entitled to his attention and body. So, why was he having different thoughts and reactions now? Was there something in the air? Did he recently start taking some new vitamin or pill that had psychosis-like side effects? Did someone cast a spell on him?

Or was Y/N genuinely attracted and turned on by Dick Grayson and was just too stubborn to realize every word the Alpha was saying was true. He’d rather not think about that.

Small moans and grunts began to slip out of Y/N’s mouth while feeling the increased kisses and marks being left across his neck and jaw. With his legs spread and Dick in between, there was nothing left to the imagination of what he felt grinding against his pelvis.

When his noises were beginning to reach a volume level that could bring unwanted attention to the Alpha, he had no choice but to remove one of his hands from the delectable body he was ravishing to cover the Omega’s mouth. It was okay for now, he’d have him screaming in no time.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re so perfect. Why do you have to act so stuck up though? Just look at you right now,” Dick muttered against the Omega’s skin before looking up. 

It was a sight to behold, seeing the same man responsible for fighting against the system that held Omegas down in the first place being subjected to the same treatment he claimed to hate, and enjoying it at that.

“And to think, we could've been doing this very same thing in your office if you weren’t acting so stuck up.”

Dick’s feverish kisses and bites increased as his hand forced open Y/N’s shirt, exposing his shiny, leaking nipples to the Alpha. He smirked at the Omega’s whimper from feeling the cool air in the bathroom rush against his wet nipples before moving his lips down and attaching them to one of the nubs.

The yelp Y/N let out under Dick’s hand was enough to have the Alpha pausing in his ministrations, making sure no one came knocking on the door before continuing his feeding on the Omega’s nectar. His other hand that wasn’t muffling the moans and cries of the Omega was working its way down the front of the smaller man’s past, just getting past the elastic band of his underwear.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when he felt Dick's cool fingers prodding around at the top of his arousal, just tugging at his cocklette which he knew was probably leaking slick along with this cunt. He did his best to resist the sensations, but even he had to admit the man was skilled.

His eyes began scanning around the room, trying his best not to get distracted by the hot sight of Dick’s dark head of hair lapping and sucking at his chest like a newborn while he felt his pleasure nub and cocklette being fondled under his underwear. That’s when he spotted something of interest.

Sitting right beside his body was a candle, and more importantly, the heavy looking golden holder it was sitting in. It was a bit hard at first with the distractions he was dealing with, but he managed to get the candle out and holder into his grip, using it to bash the side of Dick’s head.

He shouted out in pain, leaning back just enough for Y/N to shove his body forward before swinging his leg right into Dick’s exposed crotch. The dark-haired man groaned in pain, falling over on his knees while clutching his bruised genitals, looking up to the Omega who scooted himself off the counter, taking a moment to collect himself before cleaning himself up and fixing his clothes.

“Still playing hard to get, I see,” Dick uttered.

Y/N turned around, throwing a dirty look toward the Alpha on the floor before turning his nose up at him in a sneer, “You wish I was playing with you at all.”

“True, but it’s okay for now. I’ll have you begging for me soon enough,” Dick chuckled, before groaning again from another painful throb.

Y/N tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his pants and the surge of feelings he felt in his chest. He gave Dick one last glare, before exiting the bathroom, promptly finding Leo and leaving the party. On his way out though, he ran into Bruce who looked concerned at the Omega’s disheveled and angry state.

“Ask your son,” He retorted, grabbing his valet ticket out of his jacket before looking up at the CEO, a storm of emotion and thoughts behind his eyes, “Mr. Wayne, it’s been a pleasure working for W.E., and I’m very happy to see the progress we’ve been able to make in my time at the company. But, after tonight, I think it’s best if I move on to other opportunities. I’ll be sending someone to collect my things from my office.”

With that, Y/N grabbed Leo’s hand and exited the party and Wayne Manor, hopefully for the last time.

That night, the Omega was extra brutal on his patrol, taking out his anger and confusion on every bloody criminal and thug Alpha who even looked like they were up to no good. By the end of the night, Y/N was going to have to ask his contacts for some new gloves with how dirty and covered in blood they were.

As the weeks rolled by, Y/N received numerous emails and calls from Bruce Wayne asking him to come back to the company and if they could work something out. Even Wyndall had reached out to see what was going on with him.

The only person he Y/N talked to about all of this was Leo. He did tell him what went down in the bathroom, and that he just needed some time to sort out his head. The Alpha respected his wishes and still checked in on him every other day just to make sure he was okay.

The thing was, Y/N didn’t really know if he was okay. He felt like he was going crazy.

On one hand, he was very angry and upset still about the bathroom incident and just the situation overall. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Dick, thinking he could just bust his way into the room and into his life and just have his way with him. It was unbelievably arrogant and barbaric.

On the OTHER hand, it was the barbarism of the situation that had Y/N so confused. More specifically, why he was so attracted to it. The truth was, Dick pointed out some significant stuff in that bathroom that had the Omega overthinking everything.

Why was he attracted to it, and why didn’t he fight Dick off harder. He could’ve taken him and avoided that whole situation, but he didn’t. Why?

That was the question that kept pounding in his head over and over for weeks on end. One part of him wanted nothing to do with Dick Grayson, but the other part wanted everything to do with him. Wanted to give in and submit to the Alpha.

But, he had to be a symbol. And he couldn’t do that if he gave in to the very thing he was fighting against.

Though, little did he know that soon, he wouldn’t have much of a choice.

Even if his Alpha troubles had gone quiet in his civilian life, his vigilante one was another story. Shadow was plagued by countless run-ins with Nightwing who was persistent in his endeavors of trying to corner him. That or he wanted another chance to throw some cheesy one-liners at him, probably both. Thankfully, Y/N managed to stay a step ahead every single time and always managed to avoid his capture.

At least that’s what he thought.

Things would take a major turn when Shadow decided to answer a distress call coming from Wayne Towers. An Omega claimed they were being harassed and stalked by an Alpha who locked them in the building. 

Since it was his old stomping grounds, and he knew plenty of ways in and out of the building, he figured it’d be a quick mission. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the outside, but for some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing, but he still decided to go in.

The first thing he noticed when he got inside was how quiet the building was, almost too quiet. He’d worked plenty of late shifts in this building before and the silence was never this loud. Where were the nighttime guards? Or the other executives who inevitably stayed late to work?

Something weird was going on. Y/N made his way to the top of the building, closer to Bruce’s office where he heard the Omega say he was hiding over the police line he tapped into. As he approached closer to the hiding spot, he couldn’t help how tense he grew, feeling the ever-growing sensation of being watched take over him.

When Y/N finally made it to Bruce’s office, he was more or less shocked at who he found waiting for him.

“Wyndall?”

The Omega looked up, confused at first but then suddenly shouting out only to be muffled by the gag around his mouth. His hands and feet were bound by rope and he was tucked into the corner. Y/N was about to make his way over until he realized Wyndall was looking at something behind him and not at him.

He turned just in time to see a flash of blue and black lunge at him before ducking out of the way in time, “Nightwing,” The Omega growled under his breath.

“Good to finally see you again, Shadow. Well, at least all of you since I’m only used to seeing the far-distant view of your back as you run away from me. Though, it’s definitely not a sight I’m complaining about.” Nightwing said, his usual playful smirk on his face as he once again eyed the Omega vigilante up and down like their first meeting.

“Attacking innocent Omegas just to get to me, why am I not surprised? Is Batman that mad at me?”

“Who said anything about Batman? Maybe I just wanted the chance to finish our conversation from before. And you say attacking, I say leveraging advantages.”

The Omega looked from Nightwing to Wyndall who was watching the exchange while still struggling to get out of his binds. “Well, hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not in much of a talking mood,” Shadow said before grabbing one of his blades and throwing it at the other vigilante.

Nightwing managed to duck but was unprepared for the attacks he received. Using the surprise to his advantage, Shadow landed quick blows along the other vigilante’s chest and legs before sweeping under him and knocking him to the ground.

When Nightwing didn’t immediately get up, the Omega rushed over to Wyndall, using his blades to cut the ropes and gag, “Thank you,” Wyndall began to say, before both of them turned to see the other vigilante not where Shadow left him.

“No time for that, just grab your stuff and let’s go,” Shadow ordered, getting the Omega off the ground and both of them making a break for the stairs.

Just as Wyndall made it to the exit and Shadow right behind him, neither of them saw Nightwing dart out of the shadows, surprising the Omega vigilante before being tackled to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished talking,” The Alpha growled in the smaller man’s face, doing his best to keep the Omega pinned.

Thankfully for the Alpha, the Omega was distracted by Wyndall coming back to try and help him, “No, Wyndall! Just go. Get out of here!”

“But-”

“I said GO!”

He stood there for a few moments contemplating, before turning around and heading down the stairs. Nightwing smirked down at the Omega, using his strength to overpower him and pin his arms down.

“Alone at last,” Nightwing smiled before leaning down and claiming Shadow’s lips in a soft, but demanding kiss. The Omega could feel a familiar sensation sparking in his pants and certain feelings swirling in his gut.

Though, it didn’t mean he was giving up, doing his best to wiggle his leg putting as much momentum as he could into his knee as he shoved into the Alpha’s crotch. His eyes went wide as he let out a muffled grunt before breaking the kiss and letting his face fall into the side of the Omega’s neck.

But his grip didn’t loosen at all nor did his strength waver over the Omega as he tried to push back to free himself, and that’s when he heard the chuckle beside his ear.

“Sorry, but I’ve learned from your tricks before.”

Nightwing leaned off the Omega, but not enough for him to escape. Only enough to where he could flip him around on the floor, bringing his arms and hands behind his back before grabbing some more binding rope off his utility belt.

He tied both arms and legs together, grabbing his shadowblades off his waist and attaching them to his belt. When he had him secured, he turned the Omega back over and lifted him off the ground, holding him steady while taking a moment to admire his captured prize.

“All that running and fighting, and look at you know, finally caught in my grasp.”

“So what, you’re gonna take me to Batman now?”

Nightwing chuckled again, “Hmm, still haven’t figured it out yet. I told you, this isn’t about Batman. This is about you and me. It’s about finally taking what rightfully belongs to me.”

The Alpha leaned down to grab the Omega around his thighs before throwing him up in a fire-man carry and making his way down the hall. Y/N watched from his place atop the Alpha’s shoulder as they traveled through the dark and quiet halls. Eyeing the various security cameras positioned throughout the hall and noting that they were all missing the usual red light that indicated they were on and watching.

‘Did Nightwing manage to cut the cameras?’ Y/N thought to himself as they made their way down another hall, a familiar one at that as he realized they were getting close to his old office.

It was then that Y/N started thinking about various things. How Nightwing seemed to predict his move of kneeing him in the crotch as a last resort since he was apparently wearing some protective garment that kept his genitals safe. Then again, why wouldn’t he being a vigilante?

But, the comment he made seemed as if he expected it. Then, there was the fact that out of all the people Nightwing chose to attack in Wayne Towers, he chose Wyndall, one of Y/N's few friends at the company from this time working here.

And while he’d rather not think about it, that kiss they shared was just as pleasurable as it was familiar. Things were starting to slowly come together for the Omega. It was becoming somewhat clear that Nightwing knew he was, especially given the fact that he was right about his earlier hunch.

They were heading for his old office.

Y/N recognized the hall the moment they turned down the corner, before they made their way through the familiar glass door, Nightwing pausing in the middle of the room while looking at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Hmm, feels just like the first time, only the view I have is much better than yours,” The Alpha gloated before using his other hand that wasn’t holding the Omega’s thighs together to land a harsh spank on the plump ass next to his face.

“Ouch, you fucking asshole,” Shadow yelled, before yelping out again in pain as he was subjected to even more brutal and harsher slaps.

Imagine how he felt in the moment, the Omega Vigilante tasked with saving his kind from brutish behavior, getting spanked over the shoulder of the Alpha who’d relentlessly pursued him for months. Only now, he knew that this Alpha was not different from the one that had been pursuing him in his civilian life as well.

“Alright, Dick! That’s enough.” He shouted, still flailing over the Alpha’s shoulder from the sting in his ass as he tried to hold back the tears that were brewing in his eyes.

The Omega suddenly found himself back on the ground, standing on his two feet but being held by the Alpha at the waist. He did his best to not scoff at the arrogant smirk on the vigilante’s face as he looked down at him with a knowing look.

“Oh, finally put the pieces together, have you?” Dick asked.

“You didn’t make it hard with your not-so-clever hints and cliché remarks.”

“Careful,” Dick warned, squeezing the tender behind while laying a hand over his growing arousal, “Before when I gave you the chance to submit to me willingly, you refused and defied me every single time, always with that smart and condescending attitude of yours. I was forgiving then, but not so much now. And I don’t have to be.”

Y/N didn’t know why, but that same feeling he had before in the bathroom, that ever-growing curiosity, had him wanting to bite back. To test the Alpha and see how far he would go. He didn’t understand why he was actively fighting to get out of the situation he was in.

Frankly, he didn’t care about any of that. Right now, at this moment, he couldn’t remember or think of why he cared about being a symbol so much.

All he cared about was wanting to get fucked.

“Hmm, well, maybe if you had been someone worthy of submitting to, I actually would have listened and given in. Even now, I still don’t see someone deserving of my attention, let alone my body.” Y/N remarked, his own smirk pulling at his lips.

The look in Dick’s eyes was something menacing. It was as if the curtains that were obscuring who the Alpha really was were suddenly going up in flames, and now, the real show was about to begin.

“Oh, you want someone worthy, huh? I’ll give you someone worthy.” Dick uttered, a darkness to his words before he forced Y/N onto his knees.

He undid the clasps of his utility belt before undoing the secret zippers at his crotch, reaching inside and pulling out a sizable tool. Definitely not small, but not too big that would have Y/N clenching. But, appearances could be deceiving. After all, Dick was just as much known as a playboy as his adoptive father.

“How about we fill that mouth with something more worthy, huh?”

He barely gave the Omega any time to comply, using his hand to grip the smaller male’s jaw and force his mouth open, using his other hand to shove his hard appendage inside and down his throat. Y/N choked and gagged over the organ, saliva already drooling out around his lips and tears building in his eyes as the Alpha let out a guttural groan, gripping his hair now and holding him against his pubes. 

“That worthy enough for ya?” Dick growled out, jerking himself forward causing another round of chokes and gags and reveling in the sound of them, “Finally, after all that time, waiting around and watching you ignore me and toss me aside, look where you are now. Crying over my dick.”

Y/N couldn’t even use his hands to try and push back at Dick’s hips, seeing as they were still bound behind his back.

Eventually, the Alpha pulled himself out, chuckling at the sounds of the Omega gasping for air and coughing. “Enjoy this little break, it’s gonna be one of the few you get all night,” Dick taunted, yanking on Y/N’s hair again before shoving himself back down his throat.

He kept the Omega like that for another minute, seeing how long he could go before giving him a slight breather for air. When he had enough of that, he slowly began to move in and out of his throat, watching with sinful pleasure at the teary-eyed look the Omega was looking up at him with as his veiny appendage slid in and out of his mouth, a glistening shine come off it from his salvia and the light of the moon through the window.

Eventually, Dick was ruthlessly shoving himself in and out of Y/N’s lips, barely giving him any breaks or breathers as he claimed the Omega’s throat for himself. This was only the first of his many victories that he would achieve tonight. His patience and planning would finally reward him, especially with the insurance he set up for himself, as he eyed the hidden camera tucked away on a shelf in the corner of the room.

Y/N had no choice but to learn how to breathe through his nose to get the much-needed air he required as Dick had his way with his throat. His mouth was covered in spit and drool while his eyes and cheeks were soaked with his tears. When Dick pulled himself out for the last time, he took a sharp breath in, falling forward slightly as he also released the grip on his hair.

“n-nh ... ah … fuck,” The Omega breathed before feeling himself be yanked back up to his feet and pulled towards the desk.

“I’m not done with you yet, slut.”

With one sweeping motion, he knocked everything to the ground before forcing the Omega against the desk and bending him over it. He made quick work of the utility belt before unbuckling and unzipping wherever he had to, pulling down his pants and revealing his wet cunt to him.

“Oh, look at that, even prettier than I imagined,” Dick looked over the panting Omega, taking pride in the fact that this was all his doing before taking a finger and rubbing it over the wet fold and leaking head of his cocklette, “What do you think, Y/N? Should I go slow? Give you time to adjust and widen up for me? Or should I just take you like this? Since I’m apparently not worthy enough?” He asked with a leering sneer.

“please ...a-ah, fuck ... !” Y/N moaned, feeling Dick’s fingers slip inside his heat while his thumb rubbed rough circles over his cocklette and nub.

“Aw, look at that. Told you I’d have you begging for me soon enough,” He said, forcing his fingers inside him a little more before taking them back out, “That’s enough of that. Time’s up, slut. Now, I finally claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Dick turned Y/N over, removing the rope at his ankles before pushing the smaller male further up on the desk, slotting himself between the open legs. He took a moment to admire the sight before him while slapping his dick against the Omega’s dripping entrance.

“After all that time, all that fighting back and acting like you didn’t want me. Look at you here now, helpless, about to have your body claimed by your rightful Alpha. And to think, we could’ve been doing this so long ago. You and me, Nightwing & Shadow, patrolling the streets of Gotham together, but you decided to be a little bitch about everything and resist me at every turn. Well, now, you’ve got nowhere to go. You’re all mine, and I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. Not now, not tonight or tomorrow, and especially, not after this…”

Dick gripped his appendage while holding Y/N at the center of his stomach, sinking himself inside the wet heat with a deep and vocal groan. The Omega shouted out at the brute and forceful intrusion before feeling a hand slap over his mouth.

“Quiet, slut. I may have knocked the guards out, but we still want you alerting anyone else now, do we?”

Dick held his hand firm against the Omega’s mouth while savoring the feeling of the tight flesh wrapped all around his cock. He had sex with many people before, Omegas and Betas alike, but none of them compared to the feeling he had right at that moment.

A few moments went by, Y/N’s vocal but muffled cries slowly quieting as Dick does his best to calm himself down as well before taking his first move inside the soft and tight cunt. Another whine pops up from the Omega, feeling the drag and pull of the hard cock in his insides.

“Quiet baby, I’m trying to focus on not cumming here, and your little sweet sounds aren’t helping,” Dick ordered, taking his time to slowly move himself in and out while fighting down his growing climax. He knew they would have multiple rounds, but there was nothing like the euphoric feeling of claiming your prize. Conquering the very thing that fought so hard against you.

And, now, his reward lay helpless beneath him. Subject to whatever treatment and punishment the Alpha saw fit. Dick knew it, and he could see Y/N was realizing the way he squirmed around on the desk trying to adjust themselves to being owned and taken by someone worthy.

When Dick made his first full thrust inside, the tears sprang to Y/N’s eyes again as he tried to scoot himself up on the desk away from the intrusive weapon spearing his guts.

“Uh uh, baby,” Dick said, holding him by one of his legs as he forced the Omega still on his cock, “there’s no running from this. You’ve got no choice. You’re tied up and helpless, and you’re going to take my cock whether you like it or not.”

And take it, he did.

Once Dick got himself under control and didn’t feel like he would cum too soon, he mercilessly fucked the Omega with no tone of softness or tenderness in his movements. His cries under the Alpha’s palms never ceased, seemingly only increasing in volume as neared closer and closer to his own orgasm.

Above him, Dick groaned and grunted like an animal while plowing his insides, his other palm was busy squeezing roughly at the whiny little cocklette and rubbing furiously over his little pinch of nerves. The evidence of their filthy fun was becoming increasingly more potent as the slick around his cock combined with the soaking and squelching walls of the cunt he was defiling dripped and splashed onto the floor and around the edges of the desk.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Dick spat, the sweat evident on his body as his hair stuck to his face and the top parts of his mask, “if you had just listened to me and been obedient, our first time could have been gentler and more romantic. But, you wanted to be a stubborn little brat who defied his Alpha, and now you’re paying the price.”

Dick delivered powerful and harsher thrusts to Y/N’s core, pulling even louder sounds from his throat as his arms tingled with sleep from being pressed between his body and the shaking wooden desk.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me even tighter than you were before. Are you trying to make me cum, slut?” Dick asked, eyeing his Omega with lust and focus as he drilled even harder into his insides. “Still think I’m not worthy, huh? Still think someone else is more deserving of your body, Y/N? I bet you no one else can have you wet and screaming like this. I can feel the vibrations from all your moaning and whines under my palm. No one can make you feel like I can. No one can fuck you like I can! No one can own you like I can.”

Somehow, Dick began to go even faster, tears now flowing at a fast rate out of Y/N’s eyes as he met his explosive end over the Alpha’s cock. The vigilante leaned over the Omega’s body as his knot slowly approached.

“Get ready for it, slut. And feel lucky you’re not in heat yet, but soon, you will be. And soon, you’ll be carrying my kids.” Nightwing said as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside before meeting his end.

He leaned down and bit into your neck with a vocal growl as he buried himself all the way inside, knotting his Omega for the first time. His body convulsed with shudders and shakes as he felt himself shooting his seed deep inside, Y/N feeling the streaks paint his insides.

Both their breaths slowly returned to normal as they waited for his knot to do down, and when Dick felt like he had enough strength, he held himself up, taking his hand away from the Omega’s mouth before looking at him in his post-orgasmic state.

“You were amazing, baby. I’m sorry I had to be so rough with you, but you gave me no choice. But, don’t worry, it won’t be the last time. We should get you home so I can show you how an Alpha properly treats his Omega.”

Y/N could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, and he didn’t have any time to try and think of one as Dick pulled himself off and out of him. He reclothed both of them before tying the Omega’s legs back together and tossing him back over his shoulder.

“You’re all mine now, baby. Nightwing & Shadow forever,” Dick said to himself while grabbing the camera off the shelf, stopping the recording before exiting the office and heading down towards the parking garage where he planned to take you both home.

To be continued…

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌙 | Part Two | 🌙

🌃 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌃 (this image was genrated by Bing AI)

[blueiscoool]

Remains of Andrew 'Sandy' Irvine Who Vanished in 1924 Found on Mount Everest

The foot, boot and sock thought to belong to Sandy Irvine, who disappeared during George Mallory's 1924 expedition to climb Mount Everest, have likely been found. They could be a vital clue in unraveling an even bigger mystery.

Remains believed to belong to a British explorer who vanished more than 100 years ago while climbing Mount Everest have finally been found.

Andrew Comyn "Sandy" Irvine, aged 22, disappeared along with the mountaineer George Mallory in June 1924. The pair were attempting to become the first people to scale the world's highest peak.

It's still a mystery whether they succeeded in their goal before they died. Mallory's remains were discovered in 1999, which were missing a photograph of his wife that the climber had planned to leave on the summit. Irving, who had been carrying a Kodak camera that may have recorded a possible historic summit, was never recovered. The summit was officially first reached 29 years later, when Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay scaled Everest from its south side in 1953.

Now, a National Geographic documentary team, including the Oscar-winning director Jimmy Chin and the climbers and filmmakers Erich Roepke and Mark Fisher, have found what they believe is Irvine's foot.

Encased in a boot and wearing a sock stitched with his name, the foot was discovered on Everest's Central Rongbuk Glacier, further down the mountain from Mallory's remains.

"I lifted up the sock," Chin told National Geographic, "and there's a red label that has A.C. IRVINE stitched into it."

Irvine and Mallory were last seen on June 8, 1924, as they set off to scale the summit. One of their expedition teammates, Noel Odell, reported spotting the two near the second of the mountain's three steps as two tiny black dots. One of the dots broke past the skyline during a brief parting of the clouds, then they disappeared.

Mallory's body was found less than 2,000 feet (600 meters) from the summit by the U.S. rock climber Conrad Anker. Mallory's remains were tied by a rope around the waist and had injuries suggesting that the pair had fallen while connected together.

By searching near these remains and scouring the glacier for clues, Chin and his team located the boot melting out of the ice.

"This was a monumental and emotional moment for us and our entire team on the ground, and we just hope this can finally bring peace of mind to his relatives and the climbing world at large," Chin said.

The team sent the remains to China Tibet Mountaineering Association, which is responsible for climbing permits on Everest's northern side. The find was also reported to the Royal Geographical Society, which organized Irvine and Mallory's expedition, and Irvine's great niece and biographer, Julie Summers.

"I have lived with this story since I was a 7-year-old when my father told us about the mystery of Uncle Sandy on Everest," Summers said, as reported by the Guardian. "When Jimmy told me that he saw the name AC Irvine on the label on the sock inside the boot, I found myself moved to tears. It was and will remain an extraordinary and poignant moment."

The Irvine family has volunteered to take a DNA test so that the identity of the remains can be conclusively determined. Meanwhile, Chin and his team will continue to search for more artifacts. If Irvine's camera is found and it can prove they scaled the peak, it could potentially rewrite history.

By Ben Turner.

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXIV

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I... I wanted to wait a little moment before publishing the first chapter of season II. But, as you know me, I'm not a patient being, so I shall give you this chapter sooner than expected. I hope you will enjoy it, season II is going to be... wild, I think, but I hope you will love it as you loved season I. TW: Rape mention, smut, blood, knife play, cheating

“ Once again, the police have found a body, the right eye missing and a smile carved into the victim’s flesh. This had been going on for years, yet, the police, led by John Felleur, still haven't found a single clue about the serial killer that haunts New Orleans’s streets. The killer seems to attack men only, so my dear fellow gentlemen, you should stay vigilant!”

“ He loves the attention doesn’t he?”

You looked at Alice, as Alastor's voice was coming through the radio.

So many things have happened since your wedding, three years ago.  Alastor and you had succeeded in creating a bond between your two souls, making you elated. The three spirits that helped you were very interested in what would happen and sometimes, Legba or Baron Samedi would pop up next to you, wanting to talk.

Your control over your power has been getting better and better. You didn’t need to raise your hands anymore if you wanted to create your shield or telekinesised something, you just needed to think about it. You could cast your soul out of your body for one hour now. You could see things in another room thanks to your eyes or your shadow. Your shadow, which you inherited from Alastor’s power, was easily tamed. It was even useful, but it would always have some kind of fight because Alastor’s shadow would tease it.

Talking about Alastor, he has become stronger and more popular. His killing methods have become even more sadistic, more evil and cunnier but you loved him for that. You still killed pigs, Alastor would stalk them, finding every information about them if they were worth killing.  He always chose the filthiest of mankind, making it a pleasure to dispose of them. 

He never injured himself, he didn’t want you to use your healing power which created a huge argument between the two of you. You would hurt yourself to learn more about your healing abilities which almost made him snap. That day, you made a deal with him, Alastor would hurt himself on purpose and you would only heal what he said you could. You didn’t like the idea but it was mostly small cuts, nothing life threatening. 

Or you would heal yourself after Alastor has played with your body and a blade.

As skillful as he was as a killer, he was now a popular radio’s host. He would get invited to fancy soirée, always bringing you with him. He would dine with high society, finding new prey there. Sometimes, Alice would ask for your skills, telling you about new people to kill because of their sins.

Speaking of Alice, your best friend was wed.  After the incident with Larry, she decided to find a nice man so she could settle down with and she founded Tray Felleur. He was from John’s family, a cousin or something, you didn’t care. He was a rich man, he looked familiar, the Felleur’s genes must be strong. You were very worried when she told you her choice, but after meeting him, you felt a little more relieved. He was a nice, intellectual man. Alice told you he never forced her to do anything, letting her do what she wanted.

Which means she would meet Alyzéee, who was also wed to a man. Most of the time, Alice would wait for Tray to leave for work and Alyzée would come so they could still live their romance. She would feel guilty, sometimes wondering if she should tell her husband where her true feelings were. You and Alastor always said it was a bad idea, you didn’t want her to be in trouble, you asked her to wait a little longer. What for? You didn’t know yourself, you just… You could feel it in your bones, she had to keep her secret.

“ Well, Alastor has always been like this right?” you smiled at her, giving her a piece of cake. “ How are you feeling?” you asked her, worried. These days, she seemed paler than usual, always tired.  

“ Tired, but that might be because of yesterday’s soirée.” she winked at you. “ You should have seen Alyzée’s dress, she looked divine.”

You smiled at her, listening to her talk, fanning yourself. This summer was really hot for some reason. You gossiped together, talking about what was going on in New Orleans.

“ You don’t need another killing?” you asked as you drank fresh water. The last man she wanted dead was a man who had raped two women in two months. You enjoyed his screams more than you thought. 

“ It seems like you are the one who needs to kill something.” she mocked you. You rolled your eyes at her, you didn’t feel the need to kill like Alastor would, but it's been a long time since you sunk your hand into someone's eyeballs. 

You turned your head toward the entrance. He was home.

You smiled when you heard the door being opened. You stood up as you heard him walking into the living room. 

“ How do you always know when he is coming home! Each time, it’s a different hour!” asked Alice, always shocked when you could tell when Alastor was coming home.

“ Good evening, Alice. What an unhappy expecting surprise to you here.” said Alastor with a mocking smile. 

“ Even after all those years, you are still not a gentleman.” 

‘ Only with my wife, right, my love?’

You smiled when you heard Alastor’s thoughts inside your mind. It was a new power you both acquired when you bond your souls togethers. You could talk in each other’s mind which created funny moments.

Be nice, Alastor. Alice is staying for dinner.

‘Of course, she is.’

You walked toward Alastor and kissed his cheeks before going into the kitchen. You have been living together since your honeymoon, buying furnitures, painting the walls. You still haven’t finished one of the bedrooms. 

“ Unfortunately, I think I can’t stay with you for dinner.”

“ What? But I was going to make your favorite dish!” you shouted, going back into the living room with a pan in your hand. “ Did Alastor say something?”

“ Honey…”

“ Do you think he could make me change my opinion?” she raised an eyebrow.

“ Right, so why? Are you still feeling unwell?” 

“No… It’s just…” She sat on the sofa, sighing. You sat next to her, taking her hands while Alastor was looking at her with his usual smile. “ I am pregnant.”

….

“ What?” you said in unison with Alastor.

“ You told me he never forced himself on you!” You stood up, your eyes flashing red. Alice just stared at you in silence. You knew she saw your eyes flashing red multiple times but she never asked you anything about it. 

“ Do you need us to kill him?” asked calmly Alastor.

“ Calm down, the both of you. He didn’t force himself on me. I wanted a child, so this has to happen. He asked me multiple times if this is what I wanted, I said yes. He didn’t do anything bad.” she stood up, taking your hands in hers. “ But there is something worrying me. I think Alyzée is being stalked by someone… She says she feels like she is being watched.”

You looked at Alastor who seemed in deep thoughts. 

What do you think?

‘ Alyzéee is the daughter of the mayor’s who have been in power forever. It’s not surprising.’

Yes, but why now?

‘ That is something we shall need to discover.’

“ We will take a look at it. You, stay at home, we wouldn’t want a future mother to get hurt, right?” he smirked at her.

You looked at Alice.

“ So, you… are pregnant. Is it good news?”

“ Yes, I’m happy.” she put her hands on her belly with a shy smile. “ I’m going to be a mother.”

You screamed in joy before rushing into hugging her. You squeezed her against you, being mindful of her belly even if she was still not showing yet.

“ How long have you known?”

“Maybe… three months?”

You looked at her with a beaming smile.

“ Is it really good news, really?” you grabbed her shoulders. “ Please, do not lie to me.”

“ It is. Alyzée knows and she is happy for me. In a way… We think of it as our child.” She smiled at you, her cheeks flushed.

“ Well, congratulations ladies. This child will be happy to have Alyzée as its mother. I’m not sure about you..”

“ Fuck you, Alastor.”

“ See ?”

You smiled as you hugged her one more time. You walked her toward the door, making sure she was alright. She smiled at you, she seemed really happy about sharing her pregnancy’s news with you. Was she scared you would judge her? You promised her you would protect Alyzée from whatever was stalking her.

“ Nothing will hurt your family.” you said to her. Alice looked at you, taking your hand in yours.

“ You know, you are part of my family as well.” she whispered to you. “ Even Alastor but never let him know that.”

“ I heard you.”

“ Fuck off!” she shouted before looking at you. “ Please, be careful. If you need anything, ask me.”

You nodded before watching her go. You looked as the cab took her home. You went back home, looking at Alastor with an exciting smile. He was looking at you, tilting his head.

“ Why are you so happy?”

“ Alice is going to be a mother! “

“ Poor child.”

“ Alastor.”

You both went into the kitchen, preparing your dinner. If someone were to see the both of you, they would mostly think they were dreaming. You were moving everything you needed in the air with your power, the plates placing themselves on the tables, the vegetables being cut while Alastor was boiling the water.

You smiled when you saw Alastor’s shadow begin, once more, to tease yours. They were fighting each other, you could see them on the wall. You looked at the clock, you weren’t hungry yet…

“ Alastor, should we finish painting the last bedroom?”  you asked, taking off your apron. “ I’m not hungry yet.”

You watched as he looked at his watch and then he nodded, following you upstairs. You walked in and looked at the remaining wall you needed to finish. You took a paintbrush and dept it in the paint. You looked as Alastor took off his vest, staying in a light white shirt. 

You both painted before an idea emerged in your mind. You smirked as you looked at Alastor who was telling you about his day. You took your brush and called his name making him look at you and threw paint on his face.

“ … Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?”

“ What game?” you tilted your head, smiling innocently. Your smile widened when you saw his smirk. 

“ Mhn…”

You yelped when you felt the shadow held you while Alastor was painting your cheeks, smirking at you. You laughed, trying to escape from the shadow. Yours was jumping on Alastor’s, taking it away from you. You looked as both shadows were happily fighting each other. You quickly took paint and threw it at Alastor as he shielded himself with his arms.

You laughed, this life was the one you would protect.

After washing yourself, you went back to the kitchen to finish your cooking. You sat on the table and began eating.

“ How should we find Alyzée’s stalker ? Should we send our shadow?” you asked as Alastor made you eat from his fork.

“ Oh, my love, no.  Do we really need to waste our power for this?” he laughed, waving his hand in the air. “ We need to kill John, remember?” 

“ How could I forget? But right now, he isn’t a threat. The stalker could be, what if he found out about Alice’s relationship?” you asked as he wiped the sauce from your lips. 

“ If this is what you wish for, we shall take care of Alyzée’s stalker. It shouldn’t take long, nor be difficult.” he said as he leaned against his chair. You smiled at him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “ What?”

“ You are so sure of yourself, I admire that.”

“ Because no one could make me doubt my abilities,” he said before kissing your forehead. “ You should stay with Alyzée, try to see if you feel something when you are with her.”

“ Should I cast an eye on her?” you tilted your head. It was a new power you acquired, you could watch someone. It was like your eyes were watching from above. 

“ You aren’t in full control of it and it’s tiring you faster than your other powers. Just keep Alyzée some company, tell me anything that is strange.”

You nodded, you closed your eyes. It was going to be easy.

—---

“ Yes, Alice told me you would… watch me?”

“ It's just like we are used to, hanging out. I’m just being a little more… watchful while we are together, Alyzée.”

Alyzée was in front of you, her long red hair moving with each movement she made, her deep blue eyes watching you, worried. You really were surrounded by beautiful people.

“ I’m more worried about Alice, I don’t want her to be sick because she is worried for me.” she said as she drank her tea. You looked at her, drinking your hot chocolate. You weren’t very close with Alzyée, she was more of an acquaintance but the conversations were always lovely with her. 

“ Alice is strong, no need to worry. Right now, you might be in danger.” you said to her. She shrugged with a little smile.

“ Nothing that I’m not used to.”

You looked at her, observing her.

“ How is your wedding going, Alyzée?”

“ It is going well. My husband is always out working, which makes me have more time with Alice, so it’s a win-win situation. We don’t really talk to each other, we don’t… really care about each other.  I might be envious of Alice’s wedding, they are like friends.” she said with a sad smile.

“ You know she only loves you.”

“ Oh, I know. I’m not doubting Alice’s affection for me, far from it.” she smiled at you. She put her cup down.

You stared behind Alyzée, a man was now sitting on the table behind her, his hat hiding his face.. You gestured to her to keep talking, fixing your gaze on the man behind you. Was he listening to you? What did he hear? 

“ What about your wedding with Alastor?”

“ I have never been happier.” You smiled at her, still staring at the man. “ And I shall protect this happiness I gain.”

You stood up, guiding Alyzée toward the exit after paying. You told her to walk to Alice’s home, before hiding yourself in a dark alley. If the man was stalking her, he would have to pass in front of you.

You waited patiently in the dark, but you never saw the man you were looking for. Maybe it was just an error from you…

You gasped as you felt yourself being tugged by your hair, your back hitting the floor. You turned your head toward the man who was tugging you deeper into the dark alley. You couldn’t see him at all but you were sure it was the man from the coffee shop, you could feel it. 

Your eyes flashed red, your shadow moving toward the man with a hideous smile. He let you go and you didn’t wait before standing up. You looked around, there was trash all around the alley. That would do. You moved the broken pieces of glass, nails and anything that could hurt, with your mind and threw them at the man who seemed to have escaped your shadow’s wrath.

You shouted in anger as you saw him running into an alley, your flying weapon digging into the wall. You ran after him, screaming at him to stop. As you turned into the alley, you hit something so hard it made you fall back on the hard ground. You moaned in pain, trying to stand up again, you couldn’t let him go, not yet.

“ Put your hands in the air, Police of New Orleans!”

You turned your head toward the light of a flashlight behind you. When you looked back in front of you, the man wasn’t there anymore. You spat blood on the floor, your eyes turning their usual color.

“ Are you okay, lady?”

“ Yes, thank you.” You turned around as the officer brought you in the busy street. You  flinched when you saw the man. “ John, what are you doing here?”

“ There is a serial killer on the loose, we are making patrol.” 

“ From what I heard, the killer murders men, not women.”

“ Can you just thank me? I just saved your life.” John said as he gave you a tissue so you could wipe your bleeding nose.

“ Thank you, officer.” you said sarcastically. “ Can I go home now?”

“ I’ll walk you toward a hospital, to see if you are okay.” You stared at him, as he put his gun back on his hips.  John seemed to have changed, he was more serious, he seemed taller but his gaze hadn’t changed when he was looking at you. 

You sighed as John walked beside you. You were so angry at yourself to have let this man go, you were this close to have him! You wanted to tear off your hair from your head, it was so embarrassing!

‘ Did he do that? Tell me, I’ll kill him right now.’

You stopped walking when you lifted up your head, Alastor was in front of you, it seemed like he had just finished working. 

“ Mr. Felleur, please tell me why my wife is injured, next to you?” he said as he smiled like usual even if you could see anger swirling in his eyes. “ Please, answer me quickly.”

“ Mr.Sanglar, your wife has been attacked by a man, I happened to be there to save her life.” John said as you ran into Alastor’s side. Your husband stared at your face, observing every emotion in your eyes. 

It’s nothing, I think I found Alyzée’s stalker. He seemed more aggressive than I thought.

‘ What about John?’

He came in time to make him flee.

“ Well, Officier Felleur, thank you for bringing my wife to me. I shall take it from here.”

“ I need her to write if she happens to see his face. It could be the serial killer I’m after.”

You tried to hide your smile while Alastor laughed out loud.  Oh, John…

“ Oh right, but I think she would have told you if she saw something, right? But this is not the case. So, if you allow us, we shall go.” He wrapped one arm around your waist before walking away from John who just stared at you.

You looked at the tissue John has given you to wipe your blood off your face.

“ Should I give it back?”

“ No, never give something with your blood on it.”

Alastor walked you back to your car, opened the door for you before settling behind the steering wheel. You waited for him to drive but he stayed silent. You looked at him, curiously.

“ Alastor, my love ?”

You flinched when you saw him punch the steering wheel, grinding his teeth. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. 

“ I’m okay, darling. I just… didn’t expect to see you hurt.” He said before driving toward your home.

Home…

Wait.

“ Alastor no! Alice and Alyzée are maybe in danger!”

“ Does it look like I care, my love? You are hurt.” he said, his eyes never leaving the road.

“ Alastor, stop the car!” you shouted.

Alastor stopped the car on a deserted road, the one you always used to go home. He looked at you, his smile twitching. Your eyes were red and so was his.

“ Alastor, Alice is pregnant, Alyzée doesn’t know how to fight, they need us! What if the man is already there?”

“ Love of my life, curse of my sanity, Alice's family is the RicheMont. They have maids, butlers, their houses are on the richest quartier of New Orleans. Do you really think a mere human could walk in like that?” he asked you, his grip tightening on the wheel. “ They are safe there, my shadow is watching.”

You looked at Alastor, feeling relieved. 

“ Alastor… A mere human fought me.”

“ You used your powers?”

“ My shadow and Telekinesis.” you sighed, hiding your face in your head. “ But I don’t think he saw it. He was already running away when I used it. I think he must have felt my shadow like vines or something else.. And he ran away when he saw John behind me, the gun must have scared him off.” 

“ I see…” He took your face between his hands, staring at your face before kissing your lips. You sighed against his lips as he tugged you on his laps. “ Are you trying to make me mad, coming at me with blood on your face next to this prick?” he asked against your lips.

“ No…” you breathed against his lips, kissing him more eagerly.  You felt his hands on your waist, his nails digging into your skin through the clothes.  “ I’m just… Angry at myself?”

“ Why?”

“ Because I let my prey run away.” you stared at him, anger still present in your body. He looked at you with an amused expression. He stroked your cheeks while you leaned against his palm. 

“ Not for long… This man hurted you. His death has been decided.” You kissed his lips after his sentence.

“ This is my prey, Alastor, don’t steal it from me.”

“ He hurted you, my love. You can’t ask me to just–” you kissed him once more.

“ Yes, yes, but please, let me kill him in the end.” you smiled at him when you felt him relaxed underneath you. He nodded, sighing with a smile. You kissed his lips once more when you saw his smile and went back to your seat.

Alastor started back the car, driving you home. You walked home and sigh in bliss, nothing was better than being home. You let yourself fall on the sofa, what a day.

You let your husband cook for you as you looked at yourself through the window of the living room. You stood up and walked toward a mirror and saw the bruises on your face. You quickly took off the top of your dress and winced when you managed to see the cut on your back. Was it from when the man dragged you on the floor?

You sighed before concentrating on each cut. You could feel your power healing each cut, even the bruises on your face. This cold energy was seeping through your body, like a sweet caress before taking the pain away.

You opened your eyes, looking at the purple hues that were staring back at you. You saw Alastor watching you through the mirror, his arms crossed on his chest. You tilted your head as he walked toward you. He kissed your bare back, kissing each place a bruise has been made before you healed yourself.

You smiled softly, you wondered if he was aware he was doing the same thing you used to do when he was injured. Kissing his scars… You turned to him when you felt his arms wrapped around you. He kissed your face, his eyes looking at you.

“ Don’t let others injure you my dear. This is my privilege, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your face. You nodded when you felt his nails on your back. You sighed in bliss when you felt his nails dig into your back, the same place where the bruises had been a moment ago.

“ Please…” You looked at him, through half closed eyes. “ Mark me…”

You gasped when you felt him pin you on the table, your chest against the hardwood. You almost whined when you felt the cold blade against your back. You turned your head toward him, begging him with your eyes.

He slid the knife against your skin, tracing the cut you just have healed, the cut that wasn't from him but someone else. You closed your eyes, feeling your body relax. You wondered if it was normal to feel safe when your loved one was cutting your skin, never deep enough to hurt you, to scar you but deep enough to root you, to make you remember who was the one behind this knife. 

You moaned your husband's name as he kissed your neck, feeling the blood sliding from your back. He hummed against your skin, kissing the blood that was coming from the small cuts he made. 

You pushed your behind against his waist. You felt his smile against your skin, as you moaned.

“ I need to feel you…”

“ Mhn.. Really..?” he said, cutting your dress from your legs until he could see your bare form underneath him.

You shivered when you heard him take off his belt. You bit your lip when you felt the blade cutting your skin once more and your eyes rolled back when you felt him penetrate you slowly. You could feel every veins on his penis, your walls clenching around him.

 He kissed your neck as the blade cut your skin once more, his hips pushing against you. You were holding on the table, trying to think. All you could feel was Alastor, inside you, around you. You watched as one of his hands was next to your head, holding himself up with this hand because the other one was busy carving into your skin.

You opened your mouth before biting him hard on the wrist. You heard his breath hitch, before biting harder against his skin when you felt him set a pace that made your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“ Fuck… !” you heard him moan, making you clench on his member.

You whined, your head swirling with arousal. How you loved when Alastor wasn’t his composed self. 

You bite his forearms once more, your teeth digging into his skin, making him lose his pace, his hips pounding into. You grabbed the end of the table, crying from pleasure, screaming your husband’s name.

I love you.

‘ I love you.’

You came on his member as he dug the knife on your back once more. You felt like the world stopped, keeping your teeth in his arms, your hands gripping at the table, your walls clenching on his shaft, you almost black out when you felt Alastor’s pace getting faster and roughter.

You gasped, breathing once more when you felt Alastor’s weight on your back, his seed filling your womb. You held his hand, trying to root yourself to him, still sensible from your orgasm. You were both panted hard, coming back to yourself.

“ Are you with me, my love…?” Panted Alastor, his hand letting go of the knife and caressing your soft skin. “ Come on, dear…”

“ Yes… Yes… I’m okay..” you squeezed his arms, reassuringly.

He leaned back, after kissing your neck one last time. You sighed when you felt him leaving your warmth. You looked at him as he admired his handiwork on your back.

“ Do you want to heal it?” he asked, stroking your uncut skin.

You softly shook your head with a fond smile.

“ No, I want to feel them a little longer…”

He smiled before leaning down to kiss your lips. You kissed him back, stroking his cheeks with your right hand. How you loved him…

“ After all the killings I have done, you are my best prey,  my love.”

You giggled at his words. You stood up slightly, sighing in bliss when you felt each cut on your skin. What delicious pain your husband had given you…

He kissed your neck with a big smile.

“ Now, how should we trap our next prey?”

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[goodqueenaly]

Hello Good Queen Alysanne, I have a question about Jorah Mormont and Lynesse Hightower. Was the marriage doomed from the start? Was there anything they could do to make it work (e.g. Jorah temper her expectations about the Bear Island)? I remember Catelyn said something along the line of she was unprepared for a life in the North, but eventually adapted to it.

Here’s the thing, though: we’re talking about a marriage not just between two very different people from two extremely difficult cultural backgrounds, but one which had not even been on the radar for either until maybe a week or so before it took place - and that I think is being generous with the timeline. Catelyn and Ned had certainly not known each other, in any deeply personal way, before their wedding, and each had certainly grown up (though perhaps somewhat less so, for the Jon Arryn-raised Ned) in a family and a society very different the other’s, but Catelyn had been taught from a young age to be the dutiful inheritor of her father’s political designs - and from the age of 12, had understood that duty meant eventually marrying the heir to Winterfell, becoming its lady, and continuing the Stark dynasty. Likewise, while Ned had never expected to become Lord of Winterfell or marry his brother’s fiancée, he had certainly understood the wartime necessity of taking Catelyn as his bride and preserving the rebellion’s alliances via marriage. This is not to say, of course, that Catelyn immediately adapted to being Ned’s wife and that she never experienced any struggles during her marriage; it took her time to “[find] the good sweet heart beneath Ned's solemn face”, and some aspects of life in the North always remained foreign to her - the godswood sacred to Ned’s faith, or the (ostensibly) bastard son whose origins Ned angrily refused to detail . Nevertheless, I think it’s fair to say Ned and Catelyn’s marriage succeeded, at least in part, because Catelyn came into the marriage understanding the politico-dynastic duty impressed on her for a large chunk of her pre-marital life by her father, because Ned too understood and accepted the the duty he had to marry her during the Rebellion, and because both Ned and Catelyn spent years developing passion and devotion toward one another, alongside that duty.

By contrast, what could even be said of Jorah’s and Lynesse’s respective expectations going into their wedding and marriage? Jorah very explicitly had only married Lynesse because he “could not take [his] eyes off her”at the joust, purely acting on his physical attraction to her. Lynesse, for her part, had no reason to have known who Jorah even was, except perhaps on the most general level, ahead of and even during the tourney: if she was pleased to accept the favor of a hero of the recent war, a lord in his own right and a bannerman of the victorious king’s closest friend, she likely had as little knowledge of Jorah personally as he did her. Compounding that is, as I mentioned, the incredibly short timeframe of their marriage: Jorah asked for Lynesse’s hand immediately after winning the joust, and they married while Jorah was still in Lannisport for the tourney, meaning that they were going to the altar having been quite literally complete strangers at most a week, if not a few days, before the wedding. Even if Jorah and/or Lynesse had wanted to get to know each other as marriage partners before their wedding day - and Jorah certainly doesn’t seem to have been interested, in any event - there was simply no time to do so: before either, but especially Lynesse, may have realized the full implications of what to come, Lord Leyton had already signed away his youngest daughter’s future to Jorah.

In Lannisport, in those bare handful of days, it may have been easy for Jorah, and perhaps Lynesse as well, to imagine their future as one of sunshine and roses. Literally riding high on his very recent and illustrious knighthood and his unstoppable victories during the joust, in the warmth and wealth of the oldest and southernmost city in Westeros, Jorah may have thought that the realities of Bear Island life seemed physically and culturally very far away. Lynesse, still just a teenager and one who, as the youngest of a large and wealthy family, had likely lived a pretty sheltered life, may have seen Jorah as no more and no less than what he appeared as before her - a spectacularly talented tourney knight and war hero, a lord in his own right who could make her a lady of her own castle and House, as her sisters Leyla and Denyse were not. (Let’s never forget the creepiness of Jorah being almost two decades older than Lynesse.) The deliberately fantastic environment of what for lack of a better term we have to call their courtship and engagement - even for the most high-ranking Westerosi aristocrats, life is usually not feasts and tourneys 24/7 - only heightened the lack of reality at the foundation of their marriage; their entire experience of one another had been defined by a purposefully temporary world of pleasure which could never have been sustained.

Consequently, I think both Jorah and Lynesse experienced, on their return to Bear Island, disillusionment so profound that there was no making the marriage work. Jorah tells Dany that Lynesse resented that Bear Island was “too cold, too damp, too far away”, that the Mormonts “had no masques, no mummer shows, no balls or fairs”, and that the Mormont “cook knew little beyond his roasts and stews”, but I think these complaints reflect a more fundamental alienation Lynesse was feeling in her new role. Bear Island wasn’t just different from Oldtown; it was a world whose entire life and existence could not be compared to that of Lynesse’s native city. Her faith, her experience with Oldtown’s intellectual and artistic culture and the Reach’s tradition of chivalry, her training as a southron lady - none of that had any place on Bear Island. She was, as Jorah’s aunt and cousins may have reminded her (or commented in her hearing), the lady Jorah “won … in a tourney”, a lady whose “soft hands were never made for axes … nor her teats for giving suck” - in other words, a failure compared to the Mormont ideal lady who had a baby on one hip and an axe in her other hand. She had married a lord, a war hero, and a champion jouster, only to find herself stuck as lady of a castle only so called by courtesy, on an island that to Lynesse probably seemed physically and culturally in the middle of nowhere, with a husband who never again either took up arms in war (at least in Westeros) or distinguished himself on the tourney field.

Jorah clearly grew to resent and eventually hate Lynesse, but he was far from blameless in this situation. It had been Jorah who had, on no greater impulse than his physical attraction to Lynesse, taken a likely sheltered teenager from the only home she had ever known to one only he of the two of them knew and understood; it had been Jorah who had courted (again, to the extent we can call it that) the daughter of one of the wealthiest lords in Westeros from one of the most ancient reacher aristocratic families with absolutely no practical plan on how he could make Lynesse comfortable and happy in this new world; his best option in his mind was to spend money he very well knew he didn’t have and pursue a jousting career in which he knew very well he wasn’t cut out to succeed. Could Jorah truly be shocked that Lynesse “grew wild when [he] spoke of pawning her jewels”, or “moved into the manse of a merchant prince named Tregar Ormollen” after he, Jorah, became a sellsword? Far from fulfilling whatever expectations (again, likely at least founded in unreality) Lynesse may have had of this marriage, Jorah was now asking Lynesse to give up her remaining connections to those expectations and that foundation - the jewels she may have easily received as the daughter of rich Lord Hightower, the position of Westerosi lady marriage to Jorah had offered her.

Ultimately, I think this marriage was destined to fail because neither could ever be what the other may have gone into the marriage expecting. Lynesse could not be forever the tourney fantasy he had encountered at Lannisport - the beautiful highborn maid cheering him on from the sidelines as he won tilt after tilt in a tourney on the heels of his wartime fame. Jorah could not be forever the image Lynesse encountered at that tourney - the lord in his own right, the recent war hero and royally dubbed knight, the spectacular tourney champion. Jorah could not offered Lynesse the life of ease, security, and aristocratic culture she had grown up living with and perhaps consequently expecting; Lynesse could not offer Jorah the perfect highborn southron maid who would at the same time perfectly accept life as a Mormont bride.

[anghraine]

It's obvious that I'm adamantly opposed to the idea that Darcy does not deserve Elizabeth's good opinion/love, doesn't deserve his happy ending with her, is generally inferior to her, whatever.

I will say, however, that there is someone who has a good opinion of him that he does very little to earn. I think you could make a much better argument in that case that he doesn't really deserve it. And yet it's so endearing:

[Mrs Bennet:] “Mrs Long told me last night that he [Darcy] sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.” “Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. “I certainly saw Mr Darcy speaking to her.” “Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.” “Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable.”

-

Jane's reaction to Wickham's story:

“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a manner,—one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it."

Jane passing on Bingley's account:

"I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his sister’s, Mr Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr Darcy’s regard."

Jane after Wickham's story becomes common "knowledge":

Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else Mr Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.

Jane after Elizabeth tells her about the Hunsford proposal:

She [Jane] was sorry that Mr Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.

Jane is so sad about how sad Darcy must be!

“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she [Jane], “and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his disappointment.”

Jane's response to hearing the truth about Wickham:

What a stroke was this for poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery.

Jane still vicariously suffering for Darcy:

“Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr Darcy! dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must feel it so.”

Jane even points out that Darcy's general behavior and demeanor never struck her as all that bad:

[Elizabeth]: “There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.” [Jane]: “I never thought Mr Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do.”

Elizabeth keeps so much of her relationship with Darcy hidden through the later novel that Jane doesn't have reason to say much about him, but after their engagement, Elizabeth worries about her family's response:

she anticipated what would be felt in the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one liked him but Jane

When Elizabeth tells Jane about the engagement, Jane is shocked and baffled. Elizabeth assures her of her change in feeling, and adds:

"But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?” “Very, very much."

Jane continues to be worried that Elizabeth doesn't really love Darcy and wants details that she eventually does receive.

“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me."

Yes: Darcy is more dear to Jane than her father, mother, other three sisters, friends, and four uncles and aunts.

As for Darcy, he certainly likes and respects her. He describes her in the letter as amiable, cheerful, engaging, and explicitly excludes her from his criticisms of the Bennets. Back at Netherfield, he's noted as ignoring Miss Bingley to be polite towards Jane, and after his own engagement, he points out Elizabeth's care for Jane as early proof of her own goodness. Jane is one of only three characters he refers to by their first name alone by the end of the book (the others are Elizabeth and Georgiana).

So it's not that he doesn't appreciate her in his own way. I actually think the quiet rapport between them is really cute even though Jane is the person who suffers the most for Darcy's mistakes. But damn, Jane.

[stackslip]

the thing that kills me most about the recent chapters is how in the end, violence had always been there, lurking under the surface. denji's attempt to mimic a normal capitalist existence always felt empty because in the end said existence was in itself built on violence that was simply hidden from the world. denji's own upbringing and exploitation and starvation as a child, his debt bondage and the violence he lived through were completely normal. the yakuza are and always have been inextricably linked to the japanese government and they say so themselves to makima in part 1--even irl (check out especially the role the yakuza played during the japanese occupation of manchuria, under the leadership of shinzo abe's own grandfather)! and then the violence and exploitation he went through as makima's dog. so really, that normal everyday he reached for--no wonder it felt so empty. it's always been a lie! the violence has always been there, boiling under the surface. in his life, in asa's life, in everyone's lives. violence by humans, violence by devils, violence through capitalism.

and who knows that kind of violence better than denji. any attempt at building even a semblance of kindness and love and stability ends up being swept away, and it's never even about him--it's always about another goal. he's an obstacle in the way, he's a tool to be used, he's an easy sacrifice. i think in the end the relief isn't just in the end of the ennui and pretending, it's also in the fact that denji's known violence and pain his entire life. it's familiar! it makes sense! what did gillian flynn say again? a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort. denji again and again has been reduced to his most basic bodily functions--hunger and pain are familiar things to him. they're old companions, they're the sole truth in this world, they're what makes sense to him both as a human and as a devil. tearing yourself and others apart--it's the only thing he's ever been able to have control over without someone tearing it out from under him. it's the one thing that gives him agency! it's the one thing that can't be taken away from him! it's what makes denji denji! if violence is your baseline then it's a relief to return to what you know once everything you tried to build has been taken away. becuse really, you always knew it couldn't stay. it was always going to exist.

and i think what kills me most in this is his reaction to nayuta. nayuta, who chapters ago tried to tell him that violence is normal and in both their natures. but when nayuta sees denji both suffering and inflicting that violence--she flinches, because in the end nayuta is a child! and because no matter what she says, denji has tried to raise her in the absence of violence! so when he says "you should stay away from me" he isn't punishing her. he's saying that he's doomed. he tried with her because he wanted to break the cycle of abuse and for the child born of his and makima's mutual understanding of pain to not have to know this suffering. it's what pochita wanted to! he did his best. he succeeded, in many ways. for all nayuta's lack of empathy and talk of inherent devil instincts, she is, in the end, a child. and that's why denji wants her to leave and stay away from him. he can't be that for her anymore, he can no longer pretend, and he still wants the best for her. denji believes he is nothing but a vessel to receive and inflict suffering anymore, and so nayuta must stay away from him lest she be caught up in the fire.

i don't think fujimoto is saying that all victims are inherently evil and going to revert to this kind of state! it's more complicated than that. i think he is trying to explore the nuances there--how difficult is it for a victim of abuse to escape when the violence they've been through is normalized, and even considered a necessary part of how society functions? how does it "get better" when every time you try to build something, it gets torn down gleefully again and again? how do you rebuild yourself when you have been systematically shaped and remolded to receive and inflict pain, and any attempt at leaving that role sees you punished? is it not better then, to just embrace that role? to let yourself slip back in that mold? at least it's what you know. at least the lie is over, and everyone is forced to reckon with what they have created in you. at least the violence is uncovered and laid bare for the world to witness and receive themselves!

[city-of-ladies]

"Embet Ilen (c. 1801-1851), was a woman of high birth who played a distinguished political role during the Zamana Mesafent (Era of the Judges, 1769-1855) in the region now recognized as Eritrea. Her fame is underlined in nineteenth-century sources by the unusual reference to Ras Woldemichael as the “son of Ilen” without any connotation of disparagement. The society's norm otherwise required one to be called after the father. She was no doubt the most emancipated woman in Marab-Millash (highland Eritrea) in the nineteenth century. 

Very little is known about her upbringing, education, and family history. Even the name of her father is not given with certainty. Killion calls him “Aite Hagos, Kantibai of Zagher” and the informants of Kolmodin refer to him as “Ayte Fisseha, the son of Ayte Seltan” (p. 142), while Yesehaq Yosef uses both names alternately. However, all sources agree that she was extraordinarily intelligent, a persuasive speaker, an astute politician, and a valorous leader. She is said to have personally commanded men in combat and fought herself like one of them, but she was never taken captive in the field. 

Ilen entered politics, not by choice but by the exigencies of the time. She was given in marriage to Ayte Selomon, who was the eldest son of Kantiba Zar’ay of Hazzega, who ruled the greater part of Hamasen—the highlands around Asmara—for over forty years. They had a daughter, Temertsa, and two sons, Woldemichael and Mar’ed. After her husband’s death, she had two more children from political liaisons. Her husband apparently suffered from poor health and was not popular within the family or powerful in the political arena. His own father, Kantiba Zar’ay, was said to have preferred Gabray Habtetsayon, a grandson, to be his heir; but tradition required that he name his son. He did, however, bequeath much of his wealth, including slaves, to Gabray, while Selomon received the hereditary office.

These circumstances developed into a bitter rivalry within the ruling family. Ilen was forced to deal with incessant intrigues during her husband’s lifetime and after his death around 1837 in order to preserve her sons’ right to ascend to the ruling seat. Sometime after his accession to the office in the mid-1820s, Selomon attacked the neighboring district and rival center of Tse’azzega for an unknown reason. His men were quickly routed by the defenders, and he fled to Gura’e, Akkale-Guzay, his mother’s home region. The unprovoked attack revived an old conflict between the two centers of Tse’azzega and Hazzega, which continued unabated until the Italians arrived in the region in 1889.

Ilen mobilized the remaining men of Hazzega and her relations in Karneshim and attempted twice to avenge the defeat of her husband but in vain. Fighting two fronts—Tse’azzega, on the one hand, and Gabray (who split her base), on the other—was too much for her. She then looked beyond the Marab for help. She allied with the ruler of Tigray, Shum-Agame Subagadis, who, having subdued Marab-Millash, appointed Ilen governor of the whole of Hamasen. After the death of Subagadis in 1831, the old rivalries of Marab-Millash broke out anew and Ilen had to look to other quarters for support. She succeeded in winning Dejjazmatch Wubé (also Webe) Hayla Maryam, ruler of all the northern provinces from 1831 to 1855, to her side and was confirmed in her office. She tended to treat her enemies harshly. Consequently, Gabray refused to submit to her rule and lived as a rebel in the heavily forested Ansaba region for many years, a situation which made her all the more uneasy and vigilant. She was generally regarded as excessively revengeful, an attribute which not only terrorized opponents but also brought about her untimely death.

In the late 1840s, she felt it was time for her to give up her regency in favor of her elder son, Woldemichael, who was then in his mid-twenties. Probably she was also tired of the ceaseless conflicts. She retired to the St. Mary Church of Hazzega as a nun. It was here, incidentally, that Kantiba Woldegaber, head of Dimbezan, visited her on his way back home. She received him cordially, in spite of the fact that they had been enemies for a dozen years.

Selomon had allegedly entrusted to him 40 rifles on behalf of his young children, but Woldegaber gave them away to Wubé as a present. When Woldemichael and Mar’ed requested him to hand them over some years later, Woldegaber denied having received any rifles from their deceased father. Besides, he had mistreated and dismissed his wife, the daughter of Ilen. Hence, Ilen had fought and defeated him in a battle some years before this unexpected visit. Woldegaber was murdered after his departure from Ilen’s friendly reception, a tragedy which the people of Dimbezan attributed to a sinister scheme of Ilen. As a consequence, Woldegaber’s relations surprised Hazzega; Ilen escaped and took refuge in a neighboring subdistrict. But her protectors feared an attack by her enemies and extradited her together with two of her small grandchildren, who were eventually tortured to death. This event became one of the underlying causes for Woldemichael’s contemptuous and rancorous attitude toward Hamasen for the next 30 years. "

Bairu Tafla, "Ilen, Embet", In: Emmanuel Kwaku Akyeampong; Henry Louis Gates (eds.). Dictionary of African Biography

[ckret2]

How married are you to shapes carrying pregnancies at all? As opposed to other methods of making babies, such as spores or eggs or more outlandish sci fi options like parts assembly

Bare minimum, we know that shape reproduction needs a mother and a father.

I'm going to take it as a given that for Euclideans "mother" and "father" refers to "two individuals performing two different but necessary parts of a reproductive act to produce offspring," and not something like "they're totally not necessary at all but the government requires two people to sign up to co-parent before they'll hand out a baby" or whatever.

I'm taking it as a given because if I didn't, the contrary alien worldbuilder in me would go "well if mother and father are made up social roles rather than social roles derived from pre-existing biological roles, then why did they have to make up social roles that just so happened to be so similar to humanity's? I'm calling bull, bad worldbuilding, how dare you foist mom/dad pairs on a species that had no reason to develop mom/dad pairs as if we're supposed to just accept that that's the only NATURAL and NECESSARY way to rear offspring—" so I'm not giving my inner worldbuilder that option.

So, with "reproduction requires two different roles" as our starting point: at the moment, my own personal purpose in worldbuilding how Bill's species works is for use in the post-canon fic I'm working on that explores Bill's home dimension in flashbacks. That's what I'm keeping in mind when I worldbuild.

And I say that to give context to this: for my own personal purpose, my motivation is to worldbuild the way Euclideans' reproduction works in a way that ISN'T so interesting that mentioning it in fic will cause the readers' imaginations to immediately veer off the plot and focus on that detail. I'd rather how they do the do to be unremarkable as hell.

Anything mentioned about Bill's homeworld in the fic is put in either to explain who and what he is and why he's that way, or to sprinkle in a jazzy little bit of flavor. I'm trying to avoid turning his species into a deep exercise in alien speculative biology, since that doesn't mesh with the vibes of the story I'm telling. (As I say this i'm covering that "which shape sexes are reproductively compatible" chart with my body so you can't see it. I said I'm trying to avoid getting deep into the biology, not that i'm succeeding lmao. I'm too interested in how Bill sees his gender.)

Every aspect of Flatland was worldbuilt specifically to comment on the horrors of contemporary Victorian society, even the stuff that surprises readers that don't know much about the Victorian era like "well surely the stuff about irregulars being euthanized or poor babies being stolen and given to middle-class families is a dystopian invention," and anything that DOESN'T serve the social satire is handwaved away with "we have a very interesting way of propelling our bodies but unfortunately I don't have time to talk about it." Bill is written into Gravity Falls to be a foil to every member of the Pines family and to show what they could be like without love, trust, support, and family. That's the same role I want Euclydia to serve in my fic. Anything that diverges from rather than reflects Gravity Falls' contemporary society is out of place.

Putting in something like "eggs" or "spores" opens up cans of worms. How would laying eggs make their society different—are they less attached to their own kids, is trading eggs around and pre-hatching adoption more common, do people steal a neighbor's egg and leave their own? If it's spores, is it even possible to identify your own kid, does anyone care to, do kids ever just spawn out of a rotten log in the forest that spores settled on, are babies self-sufficient since they might be born without an adult nearby? These are fascinating avenues for some great alien worldbuilding! However I'm currently motivated to keep alien worldbuilding to a minimum lol.

In truth, I'll probably never need to know or explain HOW the shapes reproduce—pregnancy, eggs, spores, ritualistic magical waltz, collaborative geometry homework, whatever. Taking time to explain it means talking about details that aren't relevant to the fic, and the ghost of Edwin Abbott Abbott would sadly shake his head at me. However: if I don't explain reproduction, and if it requires two roles, most people are gonna default to assuming pregnancy. I can live with that.

All I need to figure out is how the two roles in the Two Roles Needed For Reproduction are assigned—like, can every member of the species automatically perform both roles at any time? (I don't wanna do that.) Are they born performing one of the two functions? (I don't wanna do that either, because now we've just invented a new male/female sexual dichotomy.) Does which you perform depend on your sides, the one with less sides does X and more does Y? Does it switch seasonally? Does it switch based on your age? Does it switch based on the number of each shape in the local population? Etc. (I'm not attached to any of these ideas, they're just examples.)

And the only reason that's something I need to figure out is that that could affect how Bill thinks about himself and his identity. Like, if which role you perform switches based on the amount of similar shapes in the local population, then it would have some kinda impact on him knowing that his body's been locked into the Lmao There Are NO Other Triangles Nearby role for the past trillion years. If it switches based on your age, then the fact that he never got old enough to switch would be one of many examples of the way his biological age has been in stasis since his dimension was destroyed. Etc.

[broadwayfan92]

Am I the only one who likes Colin and Penelope in S3 part 2?

Part 2 was always going to be about Colin finding out about LW. Yes, he was very, very mad, but it was understandable because of what Pen wrote about Marina, Eloise and himself. Yes, he was harsh, but remember how he treated Marina in S1 after he found out she was pregnant? He was very upset and angry, and said some things he shouldn’t have said.

However, this time it’s different, Colin knew he was in love with Penelope and still wanted to marry her. He found out about LW right before their wedding, so it makes sense he’s going to need time and space to digest that information. He loved her, but he also was hurt, angry, conflicted, jealous and in love. That's a lot of emotions to sort out. Just like with Marina, he said some things he shouldn't have. Colin is VERY sensitive, which is his best and worst character trait.

However, he was able to put aside his anger during the wedding and reassure Penelope with a nod that he wanted her to walk down the aisle. The love in his eyes was evident every time Pen was with him. Just when everything was fine and when it seemed like that they could work it out, the queen comes in saying one of the Bridgertons is LW. When he asked Pen to give up her column in that moment, she said no. Of course Colin was upset, especially since they hadn't moved past this roadblock.

Colin tried to save Penelope from Cressida’s blackmail, but made things worse and he hated that he couldn’t help. He's so used to helping Pen that he's never seen her be independent and work things out on her own. In the end, Colin realized he didn’t need to be a hero and Pen didn't need saving. It took time, but he worked through his emotions and was able to be the husband she needed. He accepted his wife’s choice and stood at her side. He loved Penelope deeply and was devoted to her.

Penelope also went through her own arc. She’s realized that she’s made huge mistakes because of her writing. She was trying to do better with the power she held, even if she couldn’t change the past.

She was going to tell Colin about LW, but kept getting interrupted or it was not the right time. She even gave up LW up after talking to her mother and Eloise. Pen only started writing again when Cressida nearly succeeded in trying to take credit for her work. Penelope stood up for herself and told Colin at their wedding that she wasn’t going to stop writing because LW was her work. Unfortunately, it drove a wedge in her and Colin's relationship because he didn't like keeping her identity a secret anymore than she did. In the end, she found her voice, formed her own plan and came clean. The truth was out and she was free of the secret that was too difficult and too dangerous to keep.

No, Colin did not need to go to Penelope during or right after her speech. That was HER time and part of both their arcs. She was owning up to her mistakes and actions, and Colin didn’t need to save her. He was looking at her with the love and support she needed. He nodded in encouragement and pride. Their time as a couple was after her moment in the spotlight.

These are flawed characters shaped by their home lives and experiences that life threw at them for 3 seasons. This was about two people growing, accepting each other for who they are and the love between them conquering everything else. Forgiveness was also a big part of their stories. Penelope had to forgive herself for her mistakes and ask for it, while Colin had to forgive Penelope.

Throughout the season, Colin had to learn to be himself instead of what society expected of him and to not be the hero. Penelope had to learn to come out of her shell and find her voice outside of LW. This is a big accomplishment for two characters who are at least 19 and 22 at the start of S3.

Side note: I’ve noticed the writers like drama for every couple on Bridgerton, particularly the last four episodes. S1 was heavy on lack of communication. S2 dealt with not wanting to fall in love. S3 dealt with secrets. Both of the main characters of these seasons aren't 100% happy until at least the last 10 minutes of the last episode.

I think in S4 we’ll see Colin and Penelope as a happier and stronger couple. However, I don’t expect to see a lot of them, similar to Anthony and Kate in S3 and Daphne in S2. Once the couples are married, they don’t seem to get a lot of screen time in order to make room for the next main pairing, but are there to offer advice. Personally, I hope next season is Benedict's.

Anyway, loved this season! Polin forever!

[transhawks]

do you ever think about how Hawks had the biggest failure in the manga? Like if the core theme is that people who are left of society need others to reach out to them and that if people genuinely try to understand others there can be a connection, essentially the character and narrative who completely failed this theme is Keigo and Jin. Keigo failed Jin. Like, Keigo's even been the mouthpiece for this theme of connectedness in the manga and bringing people together (his comments when Deku was brought in), several times over, and I keep thinking of how it will look when Shigaraki is saved and reached out to by Deku, how this will look when Touya is finally home with his family, when Himiko gets to have a normal night with Ochako and just be a normal girl. Keigo's just going to have to live with the very apparent realization that the kids succeeded where he failed and that Jin's blood is on his hands needlessly. He'll look at the kids and the villains they saved and look around himself and realize he could have had that, too, if only he'd tried to connect. Hawks has always been a really tragic character, and I know from the start we were into this idea of a boy thrown into tragic circumstances with no freedom out of them, but I think there's something to be said that the biggest failure in this manga, and likely of his life, was due to his own actions and buying into his own narrative of never having another choice.

[wonderfull-star]

In fact, the moment in the finale when Peri said he cared about Dev was the most emotional(especially knowing that it was kind of like "we only start to appreciate it when we lose it") but even more sad, considering that he was “losing” more himself. At first, you might think that Dev is to blame for this, while realizing that in fact Peri was the first to start this by launching the “butterfly effect”.

Without the fairy, Dev would probably have remained, at worst, the same “school bully,” and at best, Hazel would have tried to establish a relationship with him again and he would have started to improve for the better over time. As, in principle, happens in some other animated series. And usually in such cases “spoiled kids” with time understand that they are doing wrong and that their parent/s were only trying to separate them from society by saying that they are “not like everyone else.”But Dev and Hazel’s situation is even more special. As for Dev, who is not so spoiled as rather more "neglected". And for Hazel, who is not one of those protagonists who tries in every way to “fix” a spoiled child, but really wanted to be friends with Dev and even sometimes got up to mischief with him together.

Therefore, after Peri’s first appearance, there were only two outcomes: Either he would be able to make Dev more happy or make things even worse. Everything turned out worse not because he was inexperienced, but rather because his priority was more precisely the fulfillment of wishes. And this is still a difference. If Peri had succeeded with Dev, he would have continued to follow this “experience” because this is exactly HOW he was taught or because he was too deeply immersed in his “world” no longer paying attention to problems from outside.

That's why I'm actually interested to see if Dev and Peri at least just met each other again. Dev would definitely try to apologize and feel guilty. Because DEEP down he still remembers, especially the words “I care about you”. And which mean a lot to him. Even if the one who said it might not even remember it.

[heiznx]

WHERE DID IT ALL GO WRONG?

∗༝*◦✦ when and why did you start distancing yourself from him?

BEFORE READING, swearing, insecurities, anxiety, overthinking, trauma, invalidated feelings everywhere, misunderstanding, commitment issues, pent up feelings, and this includes main story spoilers.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Anyone who lives in the Queendom of Roses would know of the admiration the rose tyrant gave you before attending Night Raven College.

You were his earliest childhood friend, even earlier than Trey or Chenya, and his mother never separated you from him because it was her who introduced you to him; your parents had his mother's respect.

He respected you for being able to separate your personal life from the facade you show society, because for him, rules must apply wherever he is or whoever he is with.

Your first year at Night Raven College, you were doing well in following the rules, so you were able to stay close to him even after he began to be the dorm leader of Heartslabyul.

Students asked for your guidance, and you were appointed as the vice dorm leader, Riddle's chill pill, or one to distract Riddle, almost like what Trey does.

Staying close to him also means seeing his deeds towards the Heartslabyul students: being collared, told to sing, or told to paint the roses red as punishment.

Before the second year even started, you were the one to start distancing yourself from Riddle himself, and he was confused; you were his guide in trying to remain calm, though you never truly succeeded.

You can't deny Riddle Rosehearts scared you.

When will it be before he also does the same to you? You might be good at following the rules, but that's only because most of the rules are things you are accustomed to doing or not doing.

For example, in rule 256: you must not drink lemonade with honey past 8 p.m., or in rule 53, you must replace anything you steal. You don't drink lemonade with honey past that time, because why would you? You don't even steal so what would you replace?

While you were having those kinds of thoughts, you didn't try to talk to anyone about them because you convinced yourself that you were just a coward, and you couldn't even speak up about them when, in truth, you just didn't want to hurt Riddle.

In your second year, you plan on giving up your vice housewarden title, but you can't decide on that alone; the incoming paperwork would be stressful, but it would be quick.

"What?"

"As I said, I'm giving the vice housewarden position to Trey Clover," you respond nonchalantly, despite your insides shivering in anxiety. "And I wanted to let you know beforehand."

"Understood, but if you could, I want the reason behind it," he says, putting his finger in the handle of the cup before it was brought near his lips. "You have the perfect record without breaking a single rule for the past year."

"Should I break one in front of you?"

"How could you think of such a thing?" Riddle asked, his face showing distaste towards what you said.

"I had thought of giving him a chance to be one, especially since he would be in his third year by then," you responded.

You were scared and tired of seeing the faces of the students asking you how you were able to keep a clean record or them begging you to tell Riddle to take back their punishments.

The pressure of not breaking rules because you're not accustomed to them is just pure luck; sooner or later, you are going to break one, and you will feel punished as well — one day, you'll see yourself collared too, and you'll see people being disappointed in you.

"I suppose you are correct," he says, though you had a good point, he didn't want to agree with you in this.

Trey was his friend, and so were you; Riddle was about to be in his second year, and you were too; Trey would be leaving earlier than you two.

You were already slipping Riddle's grasp by not approaching him like you used to anymore, not even for small talks or venting about rumors; he just senses that you are feeling further away.

Even now, not even a small talk, just silence after his answer. Not even your usual thing where you try to predict his mood and the reason behind it; no, you were just so quiet.

For the first time, he also felt suffocated in your presence, just like you are with him; he dislikes it so much.

"I should leave," you say before showing that your cup was already empty. He could pour you another, but you didn't want to stay any longer. "I'll let the headmage know about the change of vice housewarden Heartslabyul."

Riddle only nods towards you. He can't say anything. Why are you speaking so formally? What was happening to you? Who are you?

He was never taught how to handle emotions, how to have friends, or how to keep people by his side, because you've done all three for him: you helped him understand what he felt, you became his friend, you were the one who stuck by him, and now you're leaving.

He wants to be blunt; he wants to use your old title as vice housewarden to talk to you, but what topic should he even talk about? He was just never taught how to get a friend back.

Riddle finds himself walking in the hallways alone, with you a few feet behind him but never approaching him. Unbirthday parties, you sit the furthest from where the queen sits.

He just convinces himself that he can handle things, even without you, and that he is fine alone; he doesn't have to deal with his emotions now. All he needs are those 810 rules.

No one in the Heartslabyul knows what happened; no one bothered to ask because you two only had each other as friends and you decided it's better to be alone than beside him, though you wished he reacted more when you said you'd give the title to Trey.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

You two were listless beings; he can never be king because he is a second born; he refuses to exert effort that will never be seen; and you were just you because of your past experiences.

It was never said what it was, but you two struggle with emotions altogether. The two of you were casual, the bluntest, the closest, yet also the furthest towards each other.

You and Leona could both take a nap on the same bed and even cuddle without involving romantic things in it, as if it were truly platonic; you two pretend as if it's normal to do so, which it can be.

You have trouble identifying between platonic and romantic; you even struggle with general love, so you have problems committing yourself to someone or even to things.

You were never one to be swayed by rumors or discriminate, but when it was about you, you became awfully self-conscious.

It was just a rumor that was bound to be spread, a rumor that you and Leona were a thing, that you were something more than platonic, more than what you thought through.

Leona has no problems with it, but you were suffocating. You were uncomfortable being seen around him.

He's not blind, he notices; he's always been like that, observant, yet you don't dare say a word about the situation; he is not patient enough to wait for you, so he immediately talks about it.

"I hate it when you look like that."

"You hate everything, Leona," you responded, turning to lay on your back while your nape was pressed against his arm. "It's an exaggeration."

"You're not wrong," he replies, his other arm across to your stomach and ending with his hand on your hip. "You know rumors are just what they are, don't you? Unless you do think we could be more."

"As if," you muttered, though your mood instantly lowered because of his words, and you didn't say anything, wanting to just drop the entire topic.

He didn't drop the topic and said, "Then what is it about? It's just some stupid rumor; you're thinking that everything circulates around you and you're going to go all mopey and shit because of it."

Was that an insult, or is he trying to tell you not to bother? Perhaps it was just you overthinking? His words made sense; that's how you function, but your heart broke. What does that mean? Why did your heart break? Do you not want to accept how things are?

Each time you're feeling a different emotion, a question of why you felt that way pops up, and you can't answer anything because you don't know the answer.

You want to get yourself together; you want to go back to how you function without truly trying to delve into your emotions; and if you want to be able to think, you need to be alone.

You sat up, and he pulled back his arm because of that. Your reaction was not unexpected; you mostly bit back at what he said, and you would throw the same equal insult he did to you.

"I need time," you muttered.

Leona is not sure how to take that, but you're already slipping off his bed, wearing your shoes, to leave his room; he didn't know why you didn't say anything in return.

What was he supposed to take from your words? You need time to think—that he knows, but about what? The entire situation? Why were you affected in the first place?

He huffs, thinking you'd be back, though he knows very well that you won't; he just knows you that well. He has to be the one to confront you and act like nothing happened, but he wants something to happen; he just has to be discreet about it.

It was a good time to think about what you two exactly are, your relationship, what you feel towards him, and finally try to exert effort for you, to show you he was more than casualness.

The following days, however, he couldn't confront you, he is insensitive, he pushed you to think of your feelings for a good cause, yet your emotions were all over the place.

Leona underestimated how you feel about the topic; the next time you talked to each other privately, you had to leave in a hurry after saying that you didn't want any more rumors; his plan backfired.

He just didn't get the result he wanted, and if he confronts you again, you might just get further from him than you are now. What exactly were those experiences of yours that made you turn out the way you did?

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

A friendship born from a contract: it wasn't the contract itself that asked you two to be friends; it was because, during your time in completing the said contract, he was amused, intrigued, and all the things that go with it, at you.

A kind soul that cannot say 'no' to him nor even try to brush off a conversation just because that's how you were, but that's only at the start, his interest in you grew beyond just having you work for Mostro Lounge.

Torn, you were aware of the fact you were getting taken advantage of by him yet couldn't say no to him; you wanted the entire thing to just stop, but at the same time, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed being with Azul.

In hopes he would keep seeing you helping in Mostro Lounge or just seeing you longer in general, he kept making more and more contracts with you without knowing it was starting to destroy you mentally.

He thought you could see he was trying to be friends with you, and he thought it was such an obvious display of feelings — it wasn't.

You were dense when it came to feelings; you weren't humble, but you forced yourself to be, and you assumed the worst, which was thinking that you didn't mean anything to him at all.

"Oya, you're not accepting this time?" Jade asked as Azul felt like everything just failed him; the deal was unbalanced, and Azul was the one at a disadvantage, yet you didn't accept it; it was plainly obvious.

"I'm not," you respond, looking down at the presented contract. "I quite lost my time in my own hobbies because of the contract, and though the unlimited [favorite drink] does tempt me, I think I got tired of it."

"Ehh, you get tired fast," the twin said with a frown as he leaned his whole weight on your back, to which you only chuckled.

"You're the one to talk," you sigh before getting up, causing Floyd to pull back on his own. "Thank you for the offer; perhaps next school year would be a good time."

"Are you sure?"

Unbeknownst to him, you felt a bit hurt that that's all Azul could ask you after everything, but you suppose that's what you get for being hopeful that you were more.

And unbeknownst to you, he felt more than what you're feeling; you had time to sort out what you felt, you knew this day was coming, and you planned it, but he didn't know, which was why it was such a big surprise for him.

Where did he go wrong for you to nod as your response? Which part of the deal was not tempting enough? How could you smile like that towards him as you leave the door?

You didn't ask for changes in the contract, you could've changed what you wanted to fit your liking, but you didn't, which must mean that what was wrong was not the contract itself.

Is Mostro Lounge the problem? You weren't mistreated, the tweels made sure of that; you were not discriminated against, but if you still chose other things over working with him again — was he the problem?

It was a misunderstanding that neither of you wants to talk about. Don't worry; it happens very often to people who can't find their voice.

JAMIL VIPER

Being childhood friends with you also being friends with Kalim, so in Kalim's eyes you three were all pretty best friends, but in the reality, you were like Jamil's therapist, one who listens to his venting and side-comments about Kalim.

You enjoy Jamil's company, but it just felt so wrong to be friends with him and Kalim at the same time; Jamil hated Kalim while Kalim genuinely liked Jamil and has no idea that Jamil hates him.

Of course, you tried to ignore this; you told yourself that time might fix it and that the two of them would come to an understanding, but you three were already in your second year, yet nothing was happening.

Nothing was changing, and you just had to do something about it. You tried talking to Kalim first; he's oblivious, dense, and very slow, but perhaps he'd understand since this was about Jamil.

You tried to word it vaguely; you tried to use the 'person a' and 'person b' kind of thing, and Kalim ended up consulting Jamil about it, who got irritated and said they were wasting time pondering about that.

"Like, where the fuck did he even get that example?" Jamil asked you as he washed the dishes and then handed them to you, who placed them on the drying rack for plates. "He even said that he didn't think about it and just straight up went and asked me."

"That's so Kalim," you muttered, but you were degrading yourself for not thinking that Kalim would do that. "If it were me, person a and person b should come to an understanding that both of them were seeing each other wrongly."

The example Kalim had hits too close to home, and Jamil didn't even ask who he got those words from, but he's sure your words just now didn't help. He didn't ask for your opinion or wise words; things aren't as easy as they seem.

Perhaps it was his face that made your expression contort into surprise with a tint of hurt; was his expression too evident? He muttered an apology for hurting you.

You looked away already but smiled a little as you nodded and uttered your own apology, understanding that the topic might've been too sensitive.

Your first attempt already made you feel discouraged; it seems like Jamil hates Kalim more than you thought. Now that you think about it, why did you only choose to act now?

You were too late, and even if you confront him now, in his eyes, you were probably too low — the meaning of your friendship with him is low because he'll only take advice from respected individuals.

Jamil swore it was Kalim's fault for giving that example because you only gave him waves in the hallways after that night instead of approaching him. You still help him with kitchen duties, laugh, and talk like you always do, but you feel so far away.

He looks at you and gets reminded of himself, who had pent-up emotions that he confides in you about, but you look like you're about to burst, yet at the same time, you don't look any different.

He confronted you, but it made you feel like you were a bother for even feeling or trying to hide what you felt, especially when he sighed before asking if it was about his past vent about Kalim.

Your nails scratched on the surface of what you were touching instantly, and they quickly dug in your palm before you responded, "No, why bring that up again?"

"Wouldn't it be easy if you admit it so you can stop being like that?" he asked, and his words sounded so hurtful, but he didn't even notice that it came that way for you. "You're making things tense."

"How come you notice that when it comes to me but not when you do it?" you asked, returning the spice bowl to the counter. "That's a bit unfair."

Jamil was taken aback by your words, almost even saying a comeback or tell you that he was just concerned, but you sighed to calm yourself and apologized to him before saying you'd skip dinner and then you left the kitchen.

What kind of outburst was that? It came and fizzed out so quickly. What was going through your mind? What did you mean? He made things awkward before? He doesn't remember. Jamil felt conflicted.

He's convinced that you'd come back and apologize soon; instead, he sees you avoiding him but talking to Kalim. Just why only Kalim? Did your words from before really had meaning?

You had no intentions to speak to Kalim or Jamil at all because you were embarrassed and guilty for what you said; you could've handled that differently, but you're not sure if you would do it again if given another chance.

Kalim approaches you naturally because he's unaware of everything, and that made you wish you could be like him. Maybe you were starting to understand Jamil's hatred for him; you can't bear it to think like that of your friend!

You're going to suck it up and use your savings to eat at Mostro Lounge; you'd rather sign contracts with Azul than see or even talk to any of the two; you need space, and you need time to think things through further.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

When you two were children, he was incredibly inspiring. You watched him practice his lines, and when his father was not around, you became his judge to see if his emotions and body language were aligned.

You grew up understanding how he learned etiquette and taught you too, saying you should apply it every time until it became something you do subconsciously; you enjoy learning with him.

You two basically watched each other grow, but you think that Vil helped you more than you could've ever helped yourself; if you hadn't met him, perhaps you would've had a few embarrassing phases, and you would barely know a thing about cosmetics.

Vil was aware you learned slower than him; he gave you multiple considerations because you truly were trying, and he knew you weren't a model or an actor like him; you were just you, known by the popularity because of just having the title of being his childhood friend.

The only thing that suddenly made things change was when you were in your first years at Night Raven College, when a huntsman from the dorm, Savanaclaw, appeared and fed Vil's ego more than you could ever imagine — you felt insecure.

You were replaced, or at least you thought so, by a huntsman who was so observant and went on for 5 hours about Vil's performance on a bench in the snow.

You barely appeared in his life anymore, only treating his cold when he had one because his conversations with Rook were going back and forth; you were certain you were being forgotten.

"I feel like a nanny," you laughed as you helped him wear his headband and then push it up so it'd pull back his hair. His skincare products were just by his nightstand. "The moisturizer is missing, did you misplace it?"

"How could I?" he huffed his eyes closed as you lather up the loofah. "Rook has it, don't we use the same product? Lend it to me for today."

"Seriously...?" you ask, sounding troubled since you already had the soap on the loofah and he responded a bit too late. "I'll be back."

You met Rook on the way to your room; his hair was unkept, and he — you can't even continue — while you thought of his imperfections, he already saw and knew everything about you from first glance; you realized why Vil kept him around.

As Rook complimented you, you felt sick in your stomach for thinking that you could somehow at least be a bit better than him, to at least be noticed by Vil, like how Rook can be with Vil for five hours in the snow.

Vil was willing to catch a cold just to keep their conversation going.

Jealousy was such an immature thing; you can deal with this feeling with much more control. You felt inferior, and Rook even called what you felt right now: beautiful.

You had to excuse yourself because you said that you were tending to Vil's face, and that was when Rook remembered that he was supposed to give back the moisturizer he borrowed from Vil.

You felt so lost; Rook destroys you yet gives you a different perspective. Vil noticed the change in you when you went back to his room, and he looked a bit happy to see that you'd met the huntsman.

He talked about Rook while you were doing his skin care in his stead. While you wallowed in your jealousy, you failed to notice that Vil was happy that Rook finally saw you, who had stuck with him for so long.

You failed to see that Vil had talked about you to Rook, who knew everything about you, such as your identity and the strange facts about you, at first glance because of the model.

Rook was nice, Rook was good, and you decided to keep your feelings lowkey. You just wait to be called on instead of being close to him as you were before. Vil's standards were high, and you feel like you can never reach them.

IDIA SHROUD

Night gaming, one of you streaming when the other is busy, staying up until dawn, talking about whatever, and sharing side-comments about whatever happens in the present time — the friendship you had with Idia was just that simple.

You two were almost kinnies; you were both introverts, doubtful, anxious, and had the same interests, and the only way to get you two to talk a lot is to talk about the said interests. The only difference between the two of you was that Idia could rub people the wrong way while you were overly considerate.

There were a lot of things you brushed off with him, such as when he comments about the character you find interesting and he goes on about the mentioned character, pointing out their bad traits, until you say that it feels like you relate to them, he closes his mouth immediately.

It's funny if you don't overthink it.

You find yourself wondering if Idia considers you that way too. You wonder if he thinks your personality is as bad as the characters you said were interesting because you kin them. You wonder if the side comments you two make about other people also apply to you, like if he talks behind your back.

It doesn't matter who he does it with, because the only answer could be Ortho. You feel pathetic for being so desperate to know as to approach the child — robot — artificial intelligence just to know about it.

Your question was so vague that Ortho thought you meant it in a good way because you asked, "Does Idia talk about me sometimes?"

Ortho, who has been supporting his brother for a very long time and is aware of Idia's blossoming feelings towards you and thinks it's a chance to take a step forward, said, "Yes! Brother talks a lot about you!"

You weren't aware that what Ortho meant was that Idia was talking about you in a good way and that Ortho was only hearing good things about you, and Idia was trying to justify that what he feels and sees about you is only platonic.

Imagine Ortho's confusion, wondering why your heartbeat continues to remain at that fast pace, yet your expression showed him something akin to hearing the worst news of your life.

As a child, if someone you're talking to reacts negatively to your response, it means that they wanted to hear the other response.

Ortho tried to correct his so-called mistake and said, "I mean no! Brother doesn't talk about you at all!"

Which one is the most confused here? You or him? You thought Idia was talking bad about you, which you could've gotten wrong, but seeing Ortho deny it and lie, which he doesn't do, just confirmed that Idia was talking bad about you.

Now Ortho is wondering why your expression of pure horror remained on your face; he changed his answer, yet you reacted the same as if both answers were bad for you.

This misunderstanding carried on while Idia remained unaware of the entire situation.

When you tried to act normal the next time you two met or played a game, you ended up being so distracted that he jokingly mocked you for being bad at it, and you ended up overthinking about it more, much to Ortho's dismay.

"Ortho, is it me or is [name]-shi inactive these days?"

"They've been inactive ever since you told them they were bad at games, brother..."

"No way, did they take my insult seriously?"

None of you can bring up the said topic, continued to avoid it while also avoiding each other, and Ortho had to try and encourage his brother to make the first move.

Ortho does try to guilt-trip you too.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

How could you tell him that his lack of social skills was suffocating and somewhat irritating?

Anyone who is not equal to his abilities wouldn't dare think of what's in your mind right now, let alone even think that the crowned prince has any shortcomings.

You were somewhat close to Malleus, which is why you can think the way you do, why you can see his shortcomings, and why you can't bring yourself to open up about the topic.

There were times you thought to yourself that you were too controlling of people's lives, and sometimes you don't even see the shortcomings of people, but somehow, Malleus did something you disliked that made you see more.

This stung your heart and made you question yourself many times. Malleus, who doesn't even know the effect of his words and actions on others sometimes, noticed your mood.

When he asked about your well-being, it felt like you were having an identity crisis; no matter how many times this happens, you can never get used to it.

Malleus was your friend, so why were you thinking about him like that? So wrongly, it's as if you were painting him bad, though you felt like you were the bad person.

He needs your help; he seeks to understand humans like yourself and actually tries to make an effort in doing so. From the progress you've seen, it seems like the more he understands them, the more he is starting to understand himself too.

"Maybe just a bit pressured from the exams," you responded, your laugh turning nervous as your gaze left his to tend to your meal. "And since when did they serve this kind of tea in the canteen?"

"You have not even taken a single sip of the tea to know what it is," Malleus responded, his eyes only on you. "You drank the same tea just the day before."

"Perhaps I am a bit out of it..." you mutter to yourself.

"How dare you respond to Waka-sama without —"

"Drop it, Sebek," the fae immediately said, his hand making a gesture that followed his words.

Right, it wasn't just Malleus that you were having troubles with; it was also one of his retainers, Sebek Zigvolt, who wouldn't let a single day pass without chastising you for a single mistake.

At one point, you wanted to use Sebek as a reason why you wanted to leave your friendship with Malleus behind, but you thought that it was such a selfish reason to do so.

Were you the bad friend? You couldn't bare that thought.

Malleus never confronted you about your lack of energy, Sebek scolds you for it, Silver tries to confront you about it but isn't close enough to you, and Lilia tries to offer advice in the form of comments or stories.

The guidance you're giving him is also one that you're starting to need, but you couldn't bring yourself to make it obvious or ask for it in fear of being seen as incompetent by Sebek.

In his view, he was waiting for you to approach him first because that's what you always do with him, remaining patient and putting up with him; he wants you to feel as comfortable as he was with you, but he couldn't put it into words.

THIS IS HEIZNX, i-i'm biased -- had to check leona's headcanoned enneagram which was 8w7 in order to try to make up sentences abt him cuz i literally forgot almost everything in twst after getting fixated on something else that i don't even remember. everything in here feels so personal... is this even publishable? man,, WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TYPE IN AZUL'S PART IM CRYING. THE WORD COUNT DIFFERENCE IS JUST SO FUNNY I SWEAR I WAS JOKING WHEN I SAID I WAS BIASED. HE SAYS LIKE... THREE WORDS !?!?

[hero-israel]

Here's the thing about this narrative that Palestinian resistance no matter what form is acceptable. Jewkilling cannot exist in a bubble. It cannot be politically neutral. 1000 years of European (and Arab) antisemitism culminating in genocide have ruined that. Sorry to Palestinian activists but that's just how it works. You can't murder a Jew without it being a tragedy, without it contributing to the continued global oppression of Jewish people.

And all that said, that's just if Hamas and others only targeted soldiers and police (or at least tried as best they could). The IRA didn't go out of its way to purposefully target noncombatants. Why? Probably because there isn't thousands of years of history of English people being seen as subhuman, there isn't thousands of years of anglophobic propaganda showing English people as twisted monsters preying on children and secretly undermining Irish society. The Irish national movement was not born because English refugees returned to their historical homeland and challenged the notion of Irish Supremacy. It was a pragmatic liberation movement. Resist military occupation, undermine military infrastructure designed to oppress the people. The descendants of English and Scottish settlers would even be allowed to stay if they had won. Imagine that.

These things are all tied up in each other. I'm against police brutality, I'm against the escalation and the militarization and the mistreatment of Arabs in Israel and in Judea & Samaria and Gaza and Golan and everywhere. But killing Jews can never be righteous. Sorry to anyone who feels that way but it can't. Antizionists NEED to understand that. Jews will always feel defensive and ready themselves for retaliation because of history, because of that context. Jews keep saying "prove to us a post zionist society where we all share the land won't be antisemitic" and their concerns are completely brushed off.

There's no empathy at all. A little girl can be stabbed to death and antizionists celebrate because she was a "settler," and that brave Palestinian man was defending his indigenous homeland, by targeting the weakest of his enemies. And since Israel has mandatory military service the antizionist can surmise that no Jews are Innocent. An Israeli Jew cannot be a noncombatant. They have to, otherwise the only other explanation for why Jewkilling is acceptable to them, or even feels good to them, is that they hate Jews. And as of right now, the optics are still against that. I have a sinking feeling the optics won't be against them much longer. I inherently don't trust a "liberation" movement that's all too eager to make murdering Jewish civilians praxis. I'm sick of the internet falling for this bullshit.

One of the best asks I have ever received. Thank you for sharing it and I agree with every word.

The entire progressive intersectional social-justice frame has failed Jews (or, alternately, has succeeded in excluding them), due to being intellectually colonized by a clearly fascist ideology of incessantly hating the Jew as a poisonous alien. Try to get an online activist to critically deconstruct the social assumptions they were raised with about Jews in their Muslim, Christian, or very slightly post-Christian society... it won't go well. Funny how Jews have lived in India and China for thousands of years yet you will look in vain for examples of bitter bloodthirsty kill-your-nextdoor-neighbor antisemitism in those societies. That's because the origin, the core, of Chinese and Indian societies was not "We're the people who are better than Jews."

From a review of Richard Landes' new book "Can the Whole World Be Wrong?":

[During the Second Intifada] Israelis were described at the time as the new Nazis. But the malice that was unleashed was even worse. As Landes writes, “It was mostly about being freed from a sense of obligation to the Jews, a chance to take up again the Jew-baiting so long denied Europeans by a politically correct post-Holocaust sobriety.” Landes quotes a poisonous comment made by a member of the House of Lords and reported in the Spectator, “Well, the Jews have been asking for it, and now, thank God, we can say what we think at last.” During that time, I was told something horrifyingly similar to my [=the reviewer's] face.

Your example of Irish nationalists not going out of their way to murder British children is a good one. The oft-reached comparisons between Palestine and South Africa are frivolous for many reasons as I have explained here before, and the ANC advocating and normalizing a vision of enduring racial diversity and equality is high on the list of reasons (made possible because black African identity is not predicated on a thousand-year history of hating and oppressing whites). The case of Rhodesia is even more instructive. Robert Mugabe - ROBERT MUGABE! - pleaded with the whites to stay, to live as equals, as brothers, and work together in building a better society in Zimbabwe. Ian Smith, last white PM of Rhodesia, agreed with him and stayed in Zimbabwe. If a so-called "liberation" movement is more openly dedicated to straight-up exterminating their enemies than Robert Mugabe ever was, maybe, just maybe, it shouldn't be described as "liberation" at all.

[artist-issues]

I had someone tell me recently that Zootopia is about transgenderism.

No, it’s not.

I’m well aware of who directed and wrote the movie. I don’t care. If they were trying to say “transgenderism is a good thing: you CAN be whatever you want to be!” they did a terrible job saying it. Their movie did not say that clearly.

And I don’t think that’s what they were trying to say. I think they were trying to say, “it doesn’t matter what your race or background is; we’re all the same in the ways that matter, so try to understand each other and the world will be a better place.”

That’s it. That’s what the movie said.

But you who’ve listened to the knee-jerk responses will say to me, “are you kidding me, artist-issues, they literally say the line, ‘anyone can be anything!’ all throughout the movie!”

Right. But can anyone be anything, in the movie?

No.

The fennec Fox cannot shapeshift into an elephant. If he could, that would be a great portrayal in favor of transgenderism as a valid identity instead of a mental disorder. But he can’t go from being a fox to an elephant.

That trunk is made of felt; it cannot breathe. He will never get any larger. He has no ivory growing out of his skull. He is a fox, and no amount of feelings or wishful thinking in the movie makes him an elephant—oh, but hey—that fox never actually wanted to be an elephant.

It was a scam. It was a play for sympathy, so that the grown-adult fox could trick bleeding hearts, break the law, and do whatever he wanted.

How’s that shape up, as an argument for transgenderism? Not too good.

Now, do I believe it was an intentional argument being made by the filmmakers against the transgender movement? No. I don’t. Because I know who wrote and directed that movie.

But, again: if it was an intentional attempt to say “you can be anything you want to be,” the movie did a crap job of showing it.

Unless you mean, “you can have any career or position in society you want to have, as long as you work hard, and never mind what faulty judgement gets in your way.” Then, sure, yeah, that’s what the movie was saying.

“But what about the fact that Nick says, ‘everyone comes to Zootopia thinking they can be anything. Well, ya can’t. You can only be what you are. Sly fox, dumb bunny.’ And he was proven wrong!”

Mmkay, but what was he proven wrong about? He was proven wrong about Judy having a character flaw. She has moments of being dumb—giving in to prejudices. But she grew past that, because there’s more to a person than their character flaws. Just like she says to him on the sky-tram: “you are so much more” than a shifty, untrustworthy, sly fox.

And pay attention to what NICK said. “If the world is only going to see a fox that is shifty, and untrustworthy…” Nick does not believe that he is, deep down, shifty and untrustworthy. He’s just chosen to adopt that based on how others see him.

They’re talking about character flaws. All the stereotypes in the movie are just that: they’re stereotypes, based on the type of mammal you are. Not on whether or not you’re a mammal at all, which would’ve been the clearer correlation between Zootopia’s prejudices and the real-world transgenderism discussion.

Zootopia is about racism, and maybe, if you tilt your head and squint, classism. It’s not in any way about sexuality. Nice try. Unless you’re the filmmakers, and you’re somehow spinning it so that you were intending to say something about gender: in that case, bad try. Terrible job, that’s not what your movie succeeded in saying at all.