#something something symbolism of her covering the mask's eyes

[theribbajack]

Hi I just finished reading "Death and the Maiden" and it was SO GOOD. I know you literally JUST finished writing that but please tell me there will be more fics about Maiden? Because like. I love her and I think she deserves it ahaha.

Anyway thank you for sharing your amazing art and writing! Hope you're having a good day/night! :D

Hello hello sorry for the late reply!! Sadly I don't have any other plans for the Maiden right now. I know most people would probably want to see her freed, and even though I knew from the outset that wouldn't be the case, I left a couple lines in there to imply she might have earned her freedom :)

I had a very specific set of themes I was committed to with her in particular, but if this was a different story, I would have 100% left it ambiguous if she went with Konahrik or not, if not outright having her go with him. I think a very interesting story could have been had there. Alas, maybe in another universe haha

Anyway, here is the reason it took me so long to reply. The alternate ending where self-indulgent brain go brrrr

Her dragon priest mask's name would probably be Vahdin ('Maiden') because I Am Very Original and I like the sound of it, but Sahvot ('Faithful') or Vokoraav ('Blind', lit. 'un-seeing') are good candidates as well.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Enemy

Kinktober day 3

Paring: Spiderwoman!reader x Venom!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, dub-con, fingering, tendril sex, Venom forming a dick, (I’m sorry), degradation, humiliation, public sex, breeding kink, nipple stimulation, orgasm control,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

A/N: I’m very sorry if you read this Lewis

Masterlist- Kinktober

The rain was purring onto the dirty streets of New York washing away all the grease left by the city however the read dirt stayed; they had to be taken care of by you. You were Spiderwoman since you had turned 17 a few years back and since then the streets were your life. Your mornings, your noons, your evenings even your nights had been spent cleaning this city from its dirt. There was simply no time of a committed relationship, even though you had tried and failed with what you thought would be the love of your life. Unsurprisingly being a superhero barley covered anyones bills not like it had been implied by the comics you had spent your whole youth reading. You couldn’t quit either Spiderwoman was a symbol. A symbol of hope and kindness when every institution failed you had been there protecting those who couldn’t do it themselves.

Sitting alone in your one bedroom apartment you were certain that being a super hero in high school was a lot easier than making it your profession in adulthood. Your head was planted upon your desk your eyes threatening to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. You barely listened to the frequency of the police radio. You were quickly awoken by the news of a black human like monster being sighted by civilians. You were in your suit in record time pulling your mask over your tired eyes before swinging into the cold city. You swung over the busy traffic of the the New York streets.

Arriving at the described location you realised that the object of your attention was no where to be found. Not a trace from it left. Your curiosity got the better of you. In your years of being a superhero and fighting against the green goblin and people made of sand nothing could shock you anymore. Oh how wrong you were. But this was something something, new something exciting which could potentially make your boring life a bit more exciting.

The police was just as clueless as you were so you started to search around the area yourself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until you made out a red headed woman alone in a dark alleyway. You came closer to her this probably wouldn’t help your search but she had a strange aura around her pulling you in. She seemed a bit nervous perhaps her green eyes fixated on your athletic form. She looked older than you maybe in her mid 30s but you weren’t sure.

“Can I help you this is a dangerous neighbourhood.” The woman face changed to a smirk “Well” she started “I’m sure you can help me in a personal way” Flirting and especially sleeping with civilians was off limits but you were desperate. It had been months since the last time you had another woman at your mercy. “I’m sure I can be of great-” you could see the womans eyes widen as she looked over your shoulder in the same moment your spider senses went off. Was something behind you? You turned around to see nothing you were confused for a second until you felt a force wrestling you onto the ground. You managed to turn to onto your back only to face a black slimy creature. You stared into its big white eyes as it slowly opened it mouth to reveal its many white razor sharp teeth. It seemed to have multiple rows of them all tripping in salvia. Its velvet tongue had an impressive size as it hovered above your masked face. Salvia tripped onto your face as you tried to move away.

“You were right Nat… she is stupid” the creature above you remarked in its deep voice. “Hey” you squeaked higher than you had intended to. The goo pulled back to reveal the beautiful red head again. “Oh look V she looks so shocked” she snarled at you pulling her arms from the black slime but your hands remained pinned to the concrete. Her hand gripped onto your mask pulling it up as you shook your head to side violently. Never once did you get unmasked but she did it gripping onto your chin so you couldn’t move. “You are a pretty one spider girl.” “Fuck you” you bit back. She responded in laughter making you blush in humility. “Oh no I’m gonna fuck you sweet girl” she said in between laughter.

***

“Please” you whimpered desperately your face pressed against the hard brick wall. The position you were in was beyond embarrassing. Complete naked bend forward black tendrils running over your naked form with her fingers deep inside of you pressing against you g spot. “Who would’ve guessed the symbol of hope would be such a slut. Look you are dripping down your legs like a penny whore” she slapped your ass making you cry out for more. “More” you whined feeling the tendrils rolling over your nipples.

She moved her fingers at her brutal pace curling and twisting as you clenched down. “I- I’m gonna-” “Should we let her V” she asked her companion. “Cum” you did on command releasing your slick over Nats hand and wrists.

Natasha pulled her hand from your heat making you whine at the lost. “I think she can do another” the goo formed a dick around Nats hips which you only realised once its big head was already pressed against your tight hole. “I can’t” you lied as she pushed in “Your body wants it I know it Spidey” she chuckled pushing in until she bottomed you out. She let you adjust before picking up her pace. She fucked into you hard and fast. “I’m gonna fuck you pregnant you little slut” she bit into your neck the tendrils working magic on your already overstimulated clit. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” she picked up her pace one last time before releasing her with cum inside of you.

The tendrils pulled back from your cum mixing into each other before tripping down your thighs. She pulled her pants back up leaving you panting against the wall. As a last act of affection she helped you back in your suit before leaving.

“Until next time spider girl”

:)

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

[dirtyvulture]

Something’s in the Air - Part 1

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you. 

Word count: 2362

AN: Here is the opening act of the long-awaited collaboration with @jedi-luca! Enjoy, sinners!

Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Natasha races down the empty hallway, trying to ignore the blaring alarms and flashing lights overhead. She can’t read any of the symbols marking the doors, and all she knows is that she’s looking for one with a triangle in the center of three overlapping circles, like a variation on the classic biohazard sign.

“You find him yet, Nat?” Clint buzzes in her earpiece.

“Not yet,” she responds. 

“Well, you’ve only got about another minute before HYDRA agents flood the building–”

“I know!” she snaps, her eyes finally settling on a triangle surrounded by three circles. “I found it!”

“Get him and let’s go!”

Natasha doesn’t need to be told twice, and she inputs the ten-digit code into the keypad on the door. It lights green to grant her access and she steps into a tiny, square room, no bigger than a broom closet, the heavy steel door automatically closing behind her. 

“Uh oh,” she says when she hears the door click shut. 

Suddenly, a white smoke starts to fill the tiny room, jetting out from the piping running along the walls and ceiling. Natasha covers her mouth with her arm, fumbling on her belt for a proper mask. The smoke stings her eyes and burns her throat, but the initial shock of pain is quickly overtaken by a warm, fuzzy feeling. Natasha staggers back into the wall, not even feeling the impact of the solid concrete as her stomach clenches in a way that’s familiar and foreign at the same time. 

But just as quickly as it had started, the pipes stop pumping out the gas and it clears away through the vents. She wipes at her watering eyes and sees a door in front of her with no lock. More cautiously this time, she opens it and finds herself staring down a young boy behind a glass wall.

“Clint, I found him.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha safely extracts the boy, wrapping him up in a ragged blanket she found on his bed, and carries him out in a bundle. She meets Clint just in time before the HYDRA agents realize their base has been compromised. They leave the boy in the custody of a SHIELD van and six agents. Natasha gives him a chocolate before they part ways. Her and Clint escape on the Quinjet, only breathing a sigh of relief once they are safely hidden amongst the clouds.

“When I was trying to get him, I got sprayed with something,” she tells him in a low voice.

“With what?” Clint doesn’t take his eyes off the dashboard.

“I don’t know.” 

“You seem fine.”

As if on cue, the same sharp pain that she experienced upon first inhaling the smoke punches her stomach again and she doubles over. 

“Shit,” she curses, trying to massage out the ache and feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment when she finally realizes what the pain reminds her of. Although she wouldn’t describe it as a pain, but that feeling of being so aroused she wants to burst. 

“Nat?”

“Uh, never mind,” she says, not wanting to get into details with him.

“I’ll call ahead and have Dr. Cho ready to see you in the medical bay,” he says.

“I–Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Natasha says, but Clint won’t listen to her, he’s already typing out a message to send to the doctor.

Natasha grumbles wordlessly and takes the seat next to Clint. She still isn’t sure  why SHIELD made such a point to send in some of their best Avengers to free a single young boy, but sometimes, the less details they knew the better, and now she had to worry about what exactly had been in that smoke. 

She takes her phone out from the backpack under the chair and sends you a text. But it’s almost three in the morning, so her text goes unanswered. With another 30 minutes until they’re home, Natasha boredly scrolls back up in the conversation, her attention caught by some of the old pictures you’ve sent her.

The first one she looks at is probably the most innocent of the bunch, a slightly blurred snapshot of you post-workout, your skin gleaming with sweat and your muscles pumped. Natasha bites her lip as her eyes trace down the veins on your stomach, following their path to the waistband of your shorts, which is not quite low enough to reveal perhaps her favorite body part of yours. 

She quickly skips to the next picture, which is much more scandalous and should not be viewed in a public setting, but luckily Clint is sitting in front of her. You’re lying down, the camera positioned down towards your muscular legs, but Natasha’s attention is drawn to the thick cock you have your hand wrapped around. Her center clenches around nothing; Natasha wishes she had your length inside of her, ramming into her hard and fast, until you came undone and pumped your seed deep into her womb.  

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself, crossing one leg over the other, trying to alleviate the pulsing at her core and failing. There was still so much time left until they landed, she didn’t know how she was going to survive. Out of pure desperation, she considers touching herself (still in the vicinity of where Clint can hear her, but he can turn his hearing aid down, can’t he?) right there in the Quinjet, and it takes all of her mental strength to keep her hands on her knees. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she’s so horny all of a sudden. 

All she knows is if she doesn’t have you inside her in the next hour, she may actually die.

Using her advanced Red Room torture resistance techniques, Natasha barely clings to her sanity for the next 30 minutes. She grinds herself subtly on her seat, although it does next to nothing to ease the ache in her stomach. 

“Can’t you fly faster?” she asks Clint eventually through gritted teeth. “It’s not like there’s any traffic in the sky.”

“I’m doing my best,” Cint responds. 

“Well, going a little faster would be nice.”

Clint doesn’t bite back at her even though he wants to. Overall, Natasha seems okay even after her exposure to the unknown gas, but Clint knows his best friend better than herself. Something is bothering her–badly–and she doesn’t want to talk about it, which means it can only be one thing. 

Natasha wants to cry in relief when the iconic “A” of the Avengers Tower comes into view. She practically hijacks the controls from Clint trying to land the plane faster, but just before she can sprint out of the Quinjet, Clint grabs onto her.

“You have to see Dr. Cho first,” Clint says sternly, holding onto her arms in a vice grip. 

“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Y/N,” Natasha says, almost in tears. Her core is practically on fire at this point and she wouldn’t be surprised if her panties are ruined. 

“Y/N will be there,” Clint assures her, dragging her to the elevator and going one floor down. Despite the early hour, Dr. Cho waits sleepily to greet them at the entrance of the medical bay. Natasha practically throws a fit as Dr. Cho escorts her to a private room, while Clint disappears without an explanation.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Natasha insists as Dr. Cho has her sit down on the edge of the plastic bed. 

“Agent Barton said you may have been exposed to some unknown chemical,” Dr. Cho says, shining a bright penlight into her eyes and opening her mouth to examine her tongue and tonsils. 

“I’m fine,” Natasha repeats, shifting agitatedly and crinkling the white paper covering the bed. 

Dr. Cho squints at her. “I’ll be back to run some more tests,” she says, disappearing with a flip of her white lab coat. 

Natasha groans and falls back on the bed, unzipping the collar of her uniform down to her chest, flapping her hands to cool her face. She thinks back to the pictures of you she looked at on her phone and before she can even stop herself, sticks her hands down her pants, ignoring how unusually wet she is, her fingers gliding through her soaked folds to press into herself.

“Fuck,” she mutters, kicking her legs wider to find a more comfortable position. Natasha can easily fit three fingers into herself already, a feat that normally takes some working up to, although it pales in comparison to the size of your cock. She pants at the thought of you on top of her, your body hot and heavy against hers, the feeling of your muscles flexing as you devote your strength to pleasuring her. She clenches hard around her fingers, trying to imagine them as your cock instead, hard and throbbing, stretching her apart in the best of ways and filling her better than any toy or substitute can. 

Suddenly, there is a knock on her door and Natasha pauses mid-thrust.

“Nat? Babe, it’s me,” your croaky voice says on the other side.

“Come in!” she responds.

You open the door, still in your pajamas. Clint had called you until you woke up, telling you that while the mission had been a success, Natasha had come down with something and you needed to see her immediately. Without properly dressing, you staggered down to the medical bay, worried about your girlfriend despite your own exhaustion and delirium from being woken up at three in the morning. 

And now you stare at her, jaw dropped, as Natasha is lying on the hospital bed, her hand disappearing down her shorts, her forehead covered in a light layer of sweat. 

“Are you–” you start.

“I need you,” she begs, removing her hand and your heart thumps when you see that it is completely soaked in her slick. “Y/N, please, I need you.”

“What happened?” you ask, as your legs seem to have a mind of their own and gravitate to her side. Natasha reaches out for you, her hand twisting in the front of your shirt to draw you closer. She tugs it up, trying to shove her hand into the waistband of your shorts next and you stop her gently. “Nat.”

“I got sprayed with something while I was trying to free the subject,” she says, clawing at your abs. “At first it didn’t seem to affect me, but when we were on the way back, I just felt this overwhelming need…for you.”

“For me?” 

She nods, biting her lip and looking at you with her bedroom eyes. Suddenly, your whole body lights awake, and you strip out of your shirts and shorts, climbing on the bed with Natasha and the structure squeaks under your added weight. Natasha pulls you on top of her, frantically wiggling out of her suit so she can feel you skin-to-skin. She kisses you ferociously, bruising your lips and clacking her teeth against yours, but you respond with equal enthusiasm, not really sure why she’s so desperate for you all of a sudden but not going to complain either. 

You roll your hips in a gyrating motion, dragging your hardening cock along the insides of her slick thighs, unable to help yourself when you let out a moan at her impressive wetness. You’ve never seen her so ready for you, and you know you’ll have no trouble slipping inside. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Natasha pants, dragging her nails along the muscular planes of your back and gripping onto your butt. “Stop teasing, baby,” she begs, trying to guide you to her entrance but you hold back. 

“I haven’t even gone in and you’re already going to cum,” you point out, although you’re surprisingly close yourself, seeing how turned on your girlfriend is for you. You look down to see your cock shining with her wetness, the veins on it throbbing. 

“I can’t cum without you,” Natasha says, and you lose all patience and discipline. You line yourself up with her entrance and push in hard, moaning when wet velvet wraps around your cock and Natasha moans in absolute relief at finally being filled. You pound into her, the muscles in your thighs and abs flexing like steel bands. Natasha keens as she takes you, knowing that you’re the only one who can bring her to a high that will have her entire body shaking, her lungs screaming, her nails marking red lines down your shoulders and back that everyone will see when you go to the gym tomorrow.

“God, Nat, you’re so wet,” you say between thrusts, using all your strength to hold yourself upright, when Natasha’s pussy is so tight and hot around you that your thighs are trembling and you can’t focus on anything other than the heat between your legs. You want to last longer, so you broaden your strokes, slowing down your pace but burying yourself even deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, just like that,” Natasha moans as the head of your cock presses against her sensitive walls. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.” She wants you to be buried to the hilt when you release her load, she wants to drain you of every drop you have to offer.

“Almost…there…” you grunt, squeezing her hips tighter as you pin her against the bed. The ball of arousal in your stomach burns hotter as you near your peak, and Natasha knows your body well enough to sense that your finish is near. She pulses around you harder and you drop your head against her breasts, panting like you’re running the last mile of a marathon. “Nat, Nat I’m gonna–”

It takes one more powerful thrust that causes the entire hospital bed to collapse under your combined weight. You jerk your hips forward as your cum shoots out of your cock in short, hard bursts. Natasha practically cries in relief as you fill her to the brim. 

At the same second all of this is happening, Dr. Cho comes back into the room. She says nothing, only nodding in immediate understanding and quickly backing out. 

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

AN: Part 2 by @jedi-luca is here!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

[crustyfloor]

Brain vomit...I am insanely jealous of the people who can get the new merch. And I am planning an elaborate heist. But aside from that, I'm also crazy over the lore implications of the new photo-card designs...

Of course, they're all suffering as per usual. But it's symbolized by cracks in their skin. When I saw that, I immediately linked it back to the collapse of barriers, secrets, structures, etc. The hearts, however, confused me a bit. But I suppose it's because the reason they all "broke" is ultimately because of their love.

This is probably the most distressed Ivan has ever looked in a photo card, and really, he's honest. The tone of his card is sickeningly oversaturated and overwhelming, and his emotions are visceral, I also find it interesting how the cracks are littered all over his face, and the hearts leak out like that from the neck--and Ivan holds his face like he's trying to "fix" it, or in other words, "keep it together" as he's breaking down and becoming vulnerable, he has to cover up his expression behind something more appealing as he always does. He's also wearing his Anakt Garden uniform. When he was a child, he was just learning how to develop his mask. But even then, he faltered sometimes, Ivan's automatic response is always to try to fix it, even if he's underplaying the severity of his feelings, it's what he has to do regardless, I love his card for that portrayal when he tries to keep one wound closed, another wound opens, its erratic and uncontrollable, like his true emotions. When I see him trying, it looks like it's hard because, well--he's breaking down. Normally, you can't just bounce back from that, so in this rare moment, he struggles with how to deal with it. (A certain desperation to keep up the act?) (His eyes. I really like his eyes in this PC, it's more akin to those moments when his true expression comes out, in those very rare moments)

And then there's Till, I feel pain when my wife feels pain. His expression, too, is very overwhelming. Like he's suffocating too, But his cracks are minimal, not because his pain is small but because vulnerability--something he loathes, is coming to the surface. In tears, Till is suppressing his emotions. Who he bleeds for is ambiguous here, you could say the hearts are for Ivan or for Mizi, but I think it's both. Because he hides from the both of them and eventually the love he feels for them both seeps out one way or the other like a slow leak through a crack in the wall, he's spent so many years building a fortress of a barrier to emotionally separate himself from others, it's his way of protecting himself. But at the peak of his suffering, long too deep into this hell, losing Mizi and then Ivan, he's crying because he's slowly breaking down, and the way he grips at his hair like he's trying to hold back...urgh. In different ways, indifferently, Till ignores Ivan and his affections, and fearfully, he avoids Mizi, instead watching her from afar, doing small things to feel close to her, even when he has the opportunity to get closer, and even when she acknowledges that he's so avoidant of her that it makes Mizi concerned if he even likes her or not, as was said in the Artbook when asked for her opinion of him:

"Mizi -> Till: I'd love to be friends with him. He's an artist who's so dedicated to his work. But he seems to be avoiding me... Does he hate me?"

Till doesn't confront relationships any more than he has to even though he cares so so deeply for them because confronting his emotions and confronting vulnerability, sadness, happiness, etc., and especially fear, is a commitment you have to understand how to accept and respond to, and Till doesn't understand the how when he can only go back to his starting point, hiding and or getting angry, because it's easier. At this point, it's instinct. Shyness is one thing, but doubt is something that can make you freeze in place, confuse you, make you feel unsafe, and even hinder your ability to control yourself in the wake of fear. Fear is what roots Till in place. Till, even for how emotional and sensitive he truly is, he fears the type of vulnerability being emotional requires, he knows of it, but he can never truly embrace it out of fear, that's why he rarely ever shows his heart. He already knows that wearing your weakness on your sleeve leaves you vulnerable to pain, he used to be childish and vulnerable once, and technically, he still is, but just imagine what years upon years of cruelty has instilled in him. So he acts cold and avoidant, and these misunderstood emotions lead to other misguided intentions. That's what brings me to the quote on the back of his pc

Translation:

"사랑 같은 애매한 말보다 증오란 말이 확실해요" -> "The word hatred is more certain than vaguer words like love"

Rather than confronting uncertainty and exploring the confusing, unpredictable, and gray area that is love, hate is honest, hate is intentional, hate is malleable, and you can control it. It's Till's response to feeling unsafe to resort to anger, in the same way, Ivan resorts to trying to fix it and put on a facade. Again, it ties back to the fact that Till doesn't and has never hated Ivan, but understanding Ivan is as confusing as understanding love, Till is as much of a puzzle himself. That's why they confuse each other and clash. So they come close but remain distanced because their connection is almost like unattractive magnets, Till is sensitive and loving, compared to Ivan's regrets; of not being nicer, of not understanding how to get closer to Till, then I think about what Till's recollection of his relationship with Ivan and Mizi in retrospective would be like when he does acknowledge it.

And now...mmizisua. To me, Sua looks more aware of her pain than Mizi is, like in the storyline, she is more aware of their fragility and the cruelness of their environment. It's surely a parallel to the way Sua had kept Mizi in the dark for so many years, even when this pain and this love are so destructive, she covers up her wound with her hand and hides it from Mizi, to protect her, her wound is a direct correlation to her (inevitable) death, a truth that would shatter Mizi, even after he death she wants Mizi to remember her the same as she was when she was alive, unaffected by their world. She tries to force a smile as if everything is still okay, especially because she doesn't want to affect the way Mizi looks at her so lovingly, how would Mizi ever recover if she knew the truth?

And Mizi would seemingly be none the wiser if not for the tears because, to me, she knows but looks to Sua for comfort, to forget even when she is hurt the same way, I love this side of MiziSua a lot, the side that highlights the cruelty of their relationship that surrounds their bubble, because as long as they could distract themselves with the presence of each other, the co-dependence of their dynamic, they could forget as if they couldn't feel the pain at all as long as they had each other, but Mizi is still so affected by her pain, all this hiding had amounted to nothing in the end because Mizi never changes in Sua's eyes, and Sua is still hiding her pain, but that day, Sua had broken that bubble of ignorance to the evil around them. Mizi's cracking, and she shows Sua when she pulls back her hair. It's an interesting contrast between MiziSua and IvanTill, when Mizi and Sua smile, they look happy to be in love, even if it's twisted and hurts each other, because they only rely on each other, and Ivan and Till look inconsolably pained.

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” Ch. 8

Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Latina Reader

Summary: Flashbacks creep into your dreams, causing you to wake up in a panic…it’s a good thing Jake is there to calm you. Jake finds out what happened to you, what happened with your ex, and why you’ve been getting paid off.

Content: Flashbacks(kinda gory), torture, anxiety attack, talks of suicide, some swearing, DV, will end on a happy note.

Word count: 4,019

A/N: While I think you can assume this is a middle eastern place that she was taken/sent to, I didn’t label the people for obvious reasons. Please be mindful of this and really put yourself in her shoes. Next chapter will be a lot less traumatic. I promise 💗 (Please do go back and read the other chapters, this won’t make a lot of sense if you don’t. All linked in my Masterlist!)

Chapter 8

“What were you sent here to do?” The man asks. His dark hair and even darker eyes bare into yours, daring you to speak. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, his mouth and nose covered in a mask.

You’d figured out that he was the leader of the terrorist organization whose weapons you were supposed to bomb. You’d been in their custody for a few days, tied to a pole on the ceiling like a slab of meat in a butcher shop.

They did this to weaken you for torture, you knew that. You’d been trained for this.

“Answer me!” The man yells. When you don’t say anything but stare at him, he nods to a man on your left.

This one compared to the leader, was huge—broad shouldered and muscular even under the loose shirt he wore.

The other man smiles, a whip coming into your view. Before you had time to brace yourself, the whip cracks and slams into your skin.

You seethe in pain, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of screaming in pain.

Except, when the whip is pulled away from your back, a chunk of flesh follows. You let out a blood curdling scream at that.

“All you have to do is tell us who you were working for,” the Leader tells you. “Your Admiral must’ve told you something.”

“I don’t know anything,” you gritted.

He sighs. “Fine.”

And again, you’re whipped.

Over and over again.

So much so, you could feel the blood trail down your spine and legs.

You knew you’d bleed out before they could get anything out of you. You almost begged for it to happen.

After a week of being whipped and beaten by a wooden so badly it broke, you knew you weren’t making it out alive.

Day after day, the same questions.

“Who do you work for?”

“Why are you here?”

“Where’s your back up?”

And each time, you’d give them nothing. An occasional spit in the Leader’s face but that would result in him slapping you, followed by the larger man’s fists.

By the end of that week, they’d send you to a medic who would treat you, let you heal for a week, and then it would start again.

Two months into it, you began losing hope that you’d ever be found.

Two months in, you were still being tied up to the bar in the ceiling. Occasionally you’d be sat down, given food, only for them to turn you upside down and dunked in water. They’d ripped out your nails, cut your skin, burned your healing back.

And still, nothing from you except for an occasional “fuck you”.

By the end of the third month, you’d come to expect the lashings. You’d come to expect the beatings.

But that last day, you were taken to a clean room. A surgical room. Fear riddled your body, beginning to expect the worst. When a doctor walked in with the Leader and his torturer, you were tied to the bed, your pants pulled down your legs.

“You are leaving,” the Leader tells you. “But not before we leave you with a parting gift.”

His eyes crinkle in what you assumed was him smiling. Behind him, the doctor walks up to you and marks your hip with a blue marker.

“Here is safe,” he tells the torturer.

You hear a machine whir behind him and when he moves, you see the torturer holding a hot stamp. A skull and bones symbol red as a chili pepper is being heated by some sort of portable hot stove.

“No,” you say, quietly at first but louder the closer they get to you. “NO!”

They only laugh. The torturer comes close, before whispering, “This will hurt. Do not move.”

You feel the doctor and the Leader hold your legs in place as the hot stamp finally makes contact with your skin.

You scream, blood curdling and raw. You scream until you can no longer breathe, the scent of burning flesh fills the small room. You feel yourself falling in and out of consciousness, but the doctor wakes you up completely with some smelling salts.

They pull your pants back up before untying you and dragging you out of the room and into a garage before putting a hood on your head. They throw you into the back of a truck before laughing and driving you somewhere.

“You’re lucky we didn’t do more than that with your pants down, girl.” The Leader tells you. “Thank your God we didn’t.”

You only sob. You were sure they were going to kill you. But when they stop and pull you out of the truck, you have to blink when they pull the hood off.

You were in an open field. The sun gloriously kissing your skin and grass whistling in the soft breeze.

They push you to your knees before you hear the cocking of a gun.

“Thank your Admiral for us,” is the last thing they say before shooting up in the air.

It was flare. They shot…a flare.

Instantly, you hear the whirring of a helicopter coming from behind a mountain in front of you. Behind you, the truck doors slam before the two men leave you on your knees, bloodied all over your body, and tears running down your face.

You were going to be okay. You were going to be saved.

So then why did the man’s words echo in your mind?

* * *

“Thank your Admiral for us.”

You woke up with a jolt, someone’s hand was holding yours and you had to fight to free yourself from their grip.

You were sweating, panting for fresh air.

It was just a dream. You’re home, safe.

You tried reasoning with yourself but it was no use. You were panicking, and hard.

Beside you on the floor, Jake sits up, rubbing his eyes before turning to you.

“Hey, did you sleep–”

Jake stops talking when he sees the way you hold your chest, face frozen in panic and breathing rapidly. “What happened?”

“They’re here,” you breathe, staring off into space. “They want me back. They’re gonna kill me this time.”

“Hey, hey,” Jake soothes, squatting beside you. “Breathe.”

“I. Can’t. Breathe.” you sputter. “It’s–oh my god–Jake I can’t–”

“You can,” he tells you. “C’mon, Sweetheart. You’ve got this, just like me.”

He brings one of your hands to his chest, the warm surface clothed in cotton, heart beating under your fingertips. “Feel my heart?”

He grabs your other hand and brings it to your chest, your heart pounding against your hand. “Match my heartbeat, Y/N. You can do it.”

You feel yourself slow down, the world around slowing. Jake’s green eye is the only thing you’re focusing on.

“Count with me,” he goes on. “One.”

“O-one.”

“Two.”

“T-two.”

“Three.”

“Three.”

“Four,” Jake smiles.

“Four,” you smile back.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes, thank you.”

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asks, rubbing the hand on his chest with his thumb.

“Yes,” you tell him, feeling yourself fully relaxed. “It was like a movie.”

“How so?”

“I saw what they did to me in a compilation,” you shudder. “I saw every lashing, every cut, everything.”

“Tell me about it.” Jake’s eyes are soft on you, encouraging you to go on.

“I saw them beat me that first week,” you tell him after a few deep breaths. “They had whipped me and beat me with a wooden bat.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with anger before he nodded for you to go on.

“They-they did that for a month. The next month was the same but this time they let me sit instead of being chained to a bar on the ceiling.” You drop the hand on your chest in your lap, squeezing Jake’s hand in yours.

“They pulled my nails out next and cut my back wounds open again,” you went on. Tears form in your eyes again before you tell him, “The last day of the third month, they branded me. Called it a ‘parting gift’.”

He remembered. The skull and crossbones on your hip.

“They told me to be glad I didn’t get…you know, while my pants were down. That I should thank my God.” You were fully sobbing now. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“They told me to thank my Admiral,” you cried.

Jake let go of your hand before wiping the tears that fell with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“That was the only thing I could focus on when the Navy saved me,” you tell him, tears drying. “‘Why would he say that?’, I asked myself. And then it hit me.”

You look up at Jake again before saying, “I think Simpson knew I was going down. Even after I radioed in that I was.”

Jake’s blood runs cold, he wanted to tell you what he knew but wanted you to tell him what you knew first.

“I think that’s why they paid me off,” you continue, tears long gone now. “They must think I know something.”

“Well do you?” he asks, not able to contain the curiosity anymore.

You nod. “I think the weapons they wanted me to bomb were U.S. made and that’s why they sent me to bomb them.”

“Why do it themselves when they can send one pilot to bomb them?” he adds.

“Exactly,” you agree. “That’s why they wouldn’t let Rooster or Phoenix and Bob come with me. They knew I was going down or dying trying to fight my way out.”

“But why keep you for three months?” he asks.

“Who knows why the Navy does what they do,” you sigh. Changing the subject you tell him, “When I got back, I was so broken–physically and emotionally. Maybe that’s what made me an even bigger target to Nick.”

Jake’s spine straightens at his name. “Why’s that?”

“I was a walking target, I had the look of someone who had been through something horrible.” You shake your head and chuckle. “I was so open to wanting someone to show me love and affection, I fell right into his trap.”

You look at him, watching as Jake’s eyes harden before he asks, “What did he do?”

“He was nice,” you start. “At first he was. Asking if I wanted to talk about what happened, then asking if I needed company. He moved in not even two months into knowing him.”

You scoff, remembering how naive you were.

“Rooster hated him the moment I introduced him to him and Nat,” you continued. “He was a lot like you actually.”

“How so?” Jake asks.

“Nice, a ladies man, handsome…” You look away at that last word.

“That’s why you didn’t trust me at first,” he fills in the blanks.

“Yeah.”

“Do you trust me now?” he asks.

You turn to him, a small glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Why?” Jake asks. “If I’m the same as him, why do you trust me?”

“You never made a move to kiss me the first few times you were with me,” you whisper.

* * *

Jake only stared.

That motherfucker tried to kiss you the first few times he saw you? He was ready to pummel that fucker into the ground if it meant you would never see him again.

You must’ve seen the anger in his eyes because he shakes it away and swallows it down. “I’m you trust me.”

“I am too,” you tell him. “I’ve never told anyone that, about what I suspected with the Navy and with Nick.”

“I’m glad you finally got it out,” he tells you. “I really am. It’s good that you talk about what happened to you.”

“What about you?” You ask. “Has something like that happened to you?”

Jake shakes his head, remembering his old weapon system officer. “Not me, but my old back seater.”

“What happened?”

He’d told this story twice in his life. Once at court after everything happened and the second time to Lt. Addams’ parents.

“We were sent to bomb some important buildings in Afghanistan,” he starts. “They held all sorts of jets and weapons that could’ve comprised the U.S. military that were stationed there. So they sent Lieutenant Addams and I—that was my partner’s name.”

He smiles to himself.

“He was my best friend,” he continues. “I grew up with him and we joined the Navy together and then eventually flight school and so on.”

He looks up at you, watching as you listen so intently, you’re practically holding your breath.

“Well, we got into a disagreement,” Jake tells you. “He wanted to take things slow and I wanted to speed up, elimisome time from our arrival time.”

He takes a deep but shaky breath before looking away, down at the hands he held in your lap. He takes his time, caressing each of your knuckles, examining the small scars on your right hand. He flips your hands over to see your smooth palms, coated in light sweat.

“I went faster and didn’t anticipate the upcoming turn,” he goes on. “It was too late. I was too late. I should’ve died but I yelled for him to eject and I thought he was coming with me. But he—”

Jake’s breath hitched in his throat as an angry sob trickled up instead. He blows out a few breaths before looking up at you with tearful eyes.

“He didn’t eject in time.”

“Oh Jake,” you start.

“I should’ve listened to him,” he tells you. Then quietly he adds, “It should’ve been me.”

“Jake,” you start.

He feels your hands let go of his and move to his cheeks, you tilt his head up to face you before saying, “You are exactly where you need to be. If you weren’t here, I’d probably still be dealing with Nick. Or worse.”

Jake’s eyes glisten with tears, hearing you say that means so much to him. Being able to definitely say that he was a hero for you, meant that his mistake with Addams was paid back in full.

Because it may not have been Addams, but it was someone else who needed his help the most.

“You’re exactly the person I needed when I least expected,” you go on. “I know it hasn’t been long but I do think of you as a good friend. Thank you, for everything.”

He smiles up at you. This beautiful woman before him was a fighter, and he damn well deserved to be here—even just for her.

A knock on the door startles you both out of the mini staring contest you were in, making Jake turn in the direction of the front door.

He checks his watch which reads 2:45 AM.

“Who could be here so early in the morning?” He asks.

Before you even get to answer, you both hear pounding on the door. Jake feels you freeze, terror paralyzing you into speechlessness.

“Y/N!” He hears Nick yell. “Get your sorry ass out here! We’re going home.”

“How did he find my house?” Jake asks himself.

“He must’ve followed us home after we left Hard Deck.” You answer.

Jake looks at you, taking your hands in his again. “Go into my room, there’s a box under my bed. The code is 07-12-89. There’s a gun in there, just in case you need to use it.”

“What about you?”

Jake looks at you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. He tries to memorize your eyes, the way your lips pull back when you smile. He brushes a strand of your hair back before smiling at you.

“I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

When Nick pounds on the door again, Jake points for you to be quiet and go to his room. You obey, running as quietly and quickly as you can.

Once Jake is sure you’re safe, he calmly walks to the front door, opening it just as Nick was about to pound on it again.

“Can I help you?” Jake asks.

“Yeah,” Nick says, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “I’m looking for my girlfriend. She’s in there.”

“Girlfriend?” Jake pretends to think. “Wait, I thought you were single.”

Nick angrily grunts before adding, “No, she’s confused. She’s sick in the head.”

“Well if that’s the case, she’s definitely not here,” Jake smiles. “I only allow sane people in my house.”

“Then let me in to look for her,” Nick drawls.

“No can do, buddy,” Jake says, blocking Nick when he makes a move to enter the house. “See, I don’t know you and you w already tried to kick my ass earlier today—well, yesterday. So that’s a hard no from me.”

Nick frowns in anger, face contorting into something ungodly. “Let me in. I saw her go into the house.”

Jake’s heart was pounding.

Not because he was scared, but because he was furious. Why can’t this guy just get the hint?

“Dude, even if she was here,” Jake starts. “She doesn’t wanna see you. So, take the hint.”

“Who the hell even are you?” Nick asks, pushing Jake back a bit.

“I’m just a guy who doesn’t like the way you’ve been treating Y/N,” Jake states. “And quite frankly, I don’t want you in my property so get the fuck off my porch and go home.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick seethes. “I want her and only her. So get her out here or I’m burning your house to the ground.”

“Those are some strong words for someone who’s worked really hard to become a pilot,” Jake smiles. “Do you really wanna throw that all away for some girl?”

Nick seems to ponder his words, brows furrowing in thought.

“Because that’s what? Two years of your life down the drain? And for what? A girl who doesn’t even want you?” Jake continues. “Is she really worth it all?”

Nick’s eyes focus on something behind him and Jake doesn’t even need to turn around to know who he’s looking at.

“Y/N,” Nick says. “Let’s go.”

Jake turns around to see you standing there, head held high, body squared, and feet planted. You look like the woman you once were, the one he’d seen pictures of in the Top Gun classroom and halls.

Strong and bold. Confidence radiating from your glossy bronzed skin.

You weren’t scared, and you made sure Jake and Nick knew it.

“I’m not leaving with you,” you say firmly.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘No’?” Nick bellows. “You’re coming home with me and we’re gonna talk about…us.”

“No,” you say, pushing past Jake and squaring up to Nick. “You’re going home and I’m staying here. You’re not good for me.”

“What? And he is?”

“Yes,” you say simply, catching Nick off guard. “He’s good for me. He and my friends, the ones you tried to keep me away from.”

Nick scoffs at that, rolling his eyes.

“What do you want? My apartment? You can have it,” you say, tossing your keys at him. “But what you can’t have is me. I’m done, I’ve been done for a long time, Nick. From the first time you put hands on me, to the last time you did. You will not hurt me again. So get off his porch and go home.”

Nick stares at you incredulously—Jake does too. He knew you’d finally had a breakthrough and was prepared to do anything to get Nick out of your life. Even if that meant standing up for yourself and doing the scariest thing you could ever do.

Confront him.

With a swipe at his face, Nick shakes his head before slapping you across the face. Your head turns but your body doesn’t move.

“You made a mistake,” Nick says darkly.

“No,” you say. “You made a mistake.”

You point behind Nick, where two officers, Bradley, and Natasha stand.

“Goodbye, Nick.”

* * *

2 months later

It’s been a fairly good two months. You’d been living with Jake since that night. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to your lonely apartment. And besides, you liked living with Jake.

Every morning since that night, Jake has made a point to leave you notes on the fridge, telling you when to expect him home. Granted, you’d be at work. But it’s the thought that counts.

Nick was kicked out of the Navy and served a few months in jail for the assaults he committed in the week before his arrest. You were also granted a permanent protection order against him.

Life was starting to look up.

You’d been hearing nicely, emotionally at least. You even told your therapist everything you told Jake.

The only thing you worried about now was whether or not Jake was going out on a date on weekends.

You hated to admit it, but I fell for him. And hard.

You didn’t want to, but the way he treated you was so different to what you’d ever experienced, you couldn’t help yourself.

But it seemed like Jake went back to his man-whore ways. You’d be at work and glance over to where he and the rest of the group were to see him all over a new girl each week.

You tried not to let it get to you, but it still did.

You figured you’d use this time to heal yourself—better yourself. You��d get to be as great as you could be so that when—and if—Jake wanted you, you’d be ready.

So now, you’d focus on you. Until the time was right.

Because even though it wasn’t meant to be right now, you knew it was meant to be. Otherwise, why would he leave you flowers and notes everyday? No man who wasn’t fawning over a woman would ever do that.

And yeah, there was a little voice in the back of your head that says maybe he’s just trying to be nice…but why do all that?

Either way, you were doing what was best for you. Because you owed it to yourself to do it.

No matter the outcome.

For now, you would go to work, go to your weekly therapy sessions, and smile at the life you get to live.

But that’s exactly what you get to do.

Live.

* * *

Jake’s date for the week smiled up at him as she attempted to seem hotter than she was. He’d brought her to Hard Deck to meet the group but now, he kinda didn’t want her around.

She smelled too sweet, she laughed a little too loud, and she just felt…wrong.

She wasn’t his Bullseye.

Not his. But his.

You’d just brought over a round of beers and were talking to Natasha when your date tapped on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I don’t drink beer. Can I have a white wine?” She says, rudely snapping at you to hurry. “Chop chop.”

Bradley’s eyes widen and he takes a long swig of his wet before looking at Jake with a wild expression.

“Sure,” you say. Jake watches as you take the beer, glancing his way with a dissatisfied expression.

She’s gonna rip me a new one later.

“Why don’t I get it for you?” Jake suggests. “Just in case.”

“Oh, Jakey,” his date says. “That'd be great. But honestly, we can just leave. This place is dingy and old.”

Behind her, Natasha and Bob’s mouths fall open, Coyote and Payback following suit. Bradley only cackles, making his date turn around in annoyance and Bradley turn around to avoid her gaze.

“So Jakey,” Bradley starts. “Are you leaving or are you staying?”

Jake looks at Bradley, then his date, and lastly you at the bar. You were serving Maverick a beer and smiling at something he said.

You were beautiful tonight. Your hair was curled and half tied up in a white bow, a white linen shirt and jeans your uniform for the night.

As if feeling his eyes on you, your turn just in time to catch him smiling at you before he turns to his date.

“You know what,” he starts. “I think I’m gonna stay.”

Bradley smiles. “Good choice.”

Next part

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me. I had a hard time with this chapter mainly because I wanted it to be sensitive but also raw. So thank you for reading it if you read it. And remember that there’s always someone out there that loves you 💗

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[arntyoujustcute]

"Strange Manicure"

(^She's so cocky here, I love her)

"Hey, Sektor?” Smoke calls out to her from across the table, snapping her from the thoughts. New blueprints for her flamethrower’s harness and what material would be best suited for it served as her mind's distraction as they waited for Bi-Han's arrival.

“Yes, Smoke?” She replied, lifting her head up from its resting place on her crossed hands. She had cleaned her hands free of her workshop's dirt and oil before coming to this assembly, and her nails were just as spotless. That was not what Smoke wanted to point out, however. It was something else on the Master Armorer that confused him.

“Why are the nails on your middle and ring fingers shorter than the others?” 

The young man asked his question, truly clueless on the matter. Her work was very hands-on, of course, but her nails were deliberately cut short on both hands compared to the rest on her other fingers.

Sektor sighed and glared, breathing low through her nose. Next to Smoke, Scorpion coughed loudly behind his mask, trying to cover up the laughter that tried to spill out.

“Mind your business, Tomáš.” Sektor scoffed, turning away from the smoke user. Scorpion is now chuckling silently, his face in his hands. Smoke blinks rapidly between the two of them, not sure what he did wrong.

“I did not mean to offend, I was only curious since it seemed like you did it on purpose.” He explained, making his situation even worse. Sektor glared daggers at him that would have killed him dead if she had it her way, and his brother laughed loudly, tears building up in his face.

“You have not felt the touch of a woman yet, have you?” Sektor mocked, still refusing to give him the reason for her strange manicure. Tomáš gasped, confused about what he did to deserve that when Kuai Liang spoke up from his laughing fit.

“If you are truly curious brother, go ask Sektor's assistant. I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping you!” Kuai teased, earning Sektor’s ire.

“Do not even think about it Tomáš!” She snarled, standing up from her seat. What goes on between her and her signif-her assistant is no one's business but there's.

Smoke stuttered, not sure why you of all people would know the answer to his question, but then Bi-Han walked through the room, icy vapor trailing behind him. The Grandmaster's presence forces them and everyone else in the room to look at him.

“Is there an issue?” The cryomancer spoke gruffly, seeing the scene playing out between his brothers and Master Armorer.

“Nothing, Bi-Han. May we begin now?” Sektor spoke first before Scorpion and Smoke, the two younger brothers quickly changing into pictures of obedient subordinates with the eldest of them now appearing.

Bi-Han looks between the three of them, still suspicious that he interrupted something judging from how Smoke keeps looking at Sektor, like she offended him. He will find out more later, from Sektor herself or from one of his brothers, and the meeting begins with little fuss.

Later on, while Sektor is off distracted somewhere, Tomáš makes his way down to her laboratory. He dodges cables, heavy boxes of building materials, and random chemicals in bottles stamped with symbols he doesn't understand. The person he seeks is currently leaning over one of the many tables around the room, a pair of heavy goggles protecting their face as they piece together more toxic yellow glue bombs for Cyrax. They hear his footsteps on the metal floor and look up from their work, lifting the industrial goggles hiding their eyes from view.

“Tomáš! What can I do for you?” You ask cheerfully, twisting yourself in your chair to face him. The Czech greets you back, making his way around your lover's magnificent lab to your side.

“I hope I am not interrupting you too much, I have a question to ask you that Sektor refused to answer.” Tomáš reveals, making you hum. Sektor could occasionally be a bit brash, a side effect of a large ego combined with a strong mind. It annoyed you in the beginning, but now you know better than to let her attitude get under your skin, and better yet, how to get under hers.

“You're good! What is it?” 

“Why are Sektor’s nails on her ring and middle fingers shorter than her other ones?” He asked, still just as clueless. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth dropped, a tiny squeak coming out from your throat. Your face heated up from embarrassment, and you quickly looked away from the warrior as you sat up.

“What!? W-why would I know?!” You yelled, your fingers coming up to try and cool your heated face. “Why are you asking me?”

“Scorpion said that you would know!” Tomáš defended himself, now on the receiving end of two different women's anger. You were not as skilled as him or Sektor in kombat, but you were more than able to hold your own. As if Sektor would ever leave you alone without some way to defend yourself. 

“Well I don't, so there's your answer!” You snapped, bringing your conversation with the typhomancer to a close. You stomped away from him, flinging your goggles and gloves to the side and going after wherever your lover was in the temple. To kiss or slap her, you don't know yet, you'll figure it out on the way.

Tomáš meant to chase after you, asking for forgiveness for whatever he did, but then the invisible light bulb over his head went off. He still didn't understand the thing with Sektor’s nails, but he did understand why his brother sent him after you. 

You, a lowly engineer and Lin Kuei initiate, and Sektor, the clan’s Master Armor and its best mind…what an interesting couple.

[spid3rw0mxn]

The Injured Spider

-

Peter Parker angst: Mentions of: Blood and violence :)

—

“You’re going to die.” Her words hung in the air around them. 3am, He came through her window. Battered, bruised and in need of immediate medical attention. Medical attention he couldn’t receive without risking his identity so instead they sat in her studio apartment. The lamp light illuminated the current slash she was tending towards. Her fingertips stained crimson as he winced from her stitching. She’d grown accustomed to blood. The smell didn’t phase her anymore, it had come to be something she’d associated her boyfriend with.

Peter let out a small chuckle, trying to defuse the situation at hand. He wanted to avoid the conversation that statement would lead. “You should see the other guy.”

Silence followed his words. It was Interrupted by the sound of a police siren ringing out, followed by that of an ambulance. 3am In a city that never sleeps.

Static sounds came from Peters police radio. How he’d managed all this equipment evaded her, she didn’t bother to ask. She listened in, it seemed the police had it covered. His body relaxed back, shoulders slouching as he continued to let her doctor his wounds. No doubt if they’d needed him he would’ve swung off into the night. Completely ignoring his own needs, As he was known to do.

That’s what Spider-Man did. He had found himself to be more of a symbol for New York than a person. A symbol doesn’t rest, a savior doesn’t succumb to injury. Spider-Man doesn’t stop.

She let out a sigh as she fixed up the last stitch, sitting back on her knees to examine her work. The first-aid course she’d picked up after high school came in handy more and more often these days.

“You’re going to die in this suit.” She tugged her lip between her teeth when she spoke again. She stared down at her chipped red polish, at least it matched the staining underneath her nails.

Peter sighed and turned to face her. This was a conversation he’d had before. A glimpse of Gwen and him in a similar position plagued his mind. He had failed her, and it had taken him a while before he learned to love again. He couldn’t help but fall for the girl who sat opposite of him now. She’d been patient, she’d been kind, she’d been understanding before even knowing who he was. Even going as far as sweeping the cancelled dates under the rug with a smile and rescheduling.

It was easier when she didn’t know. Lying was easier. She didn’t get that furrow in her brows from worry. She didn’t chew her bottom lip from nerves while watching the news. She didn’t frown at the articles against Spider-Man. When she didn’t know, she watched with wonder as the masked hero swung by her. She didn’t look up to blow a kiss, wondering if he’d make it to their dinner reservations. He couldn’t protect her from the dangers of loving a superhero. He knew that. He had learned that before. But, If he could go back and protect her from doing so knowingly, he would.

“Someone has to protect the people.” He stated plainly. The humor in his voice from earlier disappeared. It was replaced with a solemn tone, one she couldn’t say she hadn’t heard him use before. Especially when this discussion arose.

“It has to be you?” She questioned, but she knew the answer. ‘With great power’ and all of that. She wondered if Uncle Ben had known the life he was sentencing Peter with at those final words. “You’ve done enough. Maybe it’s time now to just be Peter Parker, a student at Empire State.”

“I’m not just Peter Parker. I haven’t been in a long time.” Truth be told, he hadn’t felt like Peter Parker since he turned 15. If he’d become the spider or the spider became him, he was unsure. All he knew now was the strength he had, the responsibility he held in his hands.

“You could be.” She tried again, cupping his face in her left hand, thumb gently brushing over the yellow bruise under his left eye. “It doesn’t have to fall on you.”

“But it does fall on me. If I don’t do this, people die. Innocent people.”

“You’re an innocent person Peter.”

“If I do nothing, I’m not innocent. I’m a bystander.”

She was stunned by that. How could she argue? He was right. She hated to admit it so instead she just turned her head from him.

“I’m scared for you.” She exhaled, fighting with the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. “I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

“Then don’t.” He said the words before he’d thought them through. The implication behind the sentence suffocating them both.

A beat passed, then another. She looked back towards Peter. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He started, pausing as he tried to think of what to say. His eyebrows fell in defeat as he reached towards her.

She shook her head and he retreated. “No, You’re right. I can’t do this. You want to kill the man I love? Do it. But, I refuse to be part of it.”

He stared at her, blinking a few times in surprise. “What?” His voice was soft, like a child being scolded. “That’s not-“ He stopped himself as he heard another siren in the distance. Peter took a breath before slipping his mask back down over his face.

“We will talk about this later.” He moved down, lifting his mask up over his lips to plant a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m Sorry.” Peter left the same way he had entered. Through the window, Following after the bright red and blue lights. He was headed towards whatever danger awaited him.

The depth of his apology wasn’t lost on her. “I know.”

[heartfullofleeches]

please elaborare on alien yan and them thembo cow reader

(Just a not so little dairy farmer and the extraterrestrial who's got the hots for them and not totally isn't trying to lure them onto their ship)

Fresh mountain air, wide open fields for you and your herd. It wasn't always easy, but this was certainly the life for you.

Early on, you did everything thing to conform to human society. Taken in by a family in a place where people like you were the norm life was pretty easy - say for strangers tugging your horns when you were too small to defend yourself and mooing at you on the street, but that problem took care of itself once you towered over your bullies later on with the strength to match.

The only challenge you faced afterwards was a thirst for a life that never was. Living in a bustling city, you never experienced the outdoor life yourself, but you grew up on the romanticized portrayals - and fell more in love with the real thing when you finally got a taste visiting a close friend's family farm. It was then and there you decided to pack up and move out to the country once you had the funds. As luck would have it, that friend called you up with an offer you couldn't refuse when they heard about your future plans. Overnight, you were the new owner of a farm and on your way to living the life of your dreams. Wished they'd told you more about the surveillance cameras you found hidden around during a deeper inspection of the place, but you'd manage.

You adored the change of scenery. There was a town a couple miles out so you weren't completely alone, but you had your animals to keep you company. Majority of your business comes from that town, but you've been taking a little break recently to take care of your herd and the bizarre events happening around your barn. You normally let your cows go free range, but two of them have gone missing without a trace. You've found strange symbols carved into the wood of your home and fields, the stocks from the harvest bundled neatly at your doorstep. Day by day, you started to regret not asking more about those odd cameras - especially since your friend hasn't answered any of your calls recently, but now's not the time to focus on that.

You've got a visitor.

Tires crunching atop the gravel road, an old beat up truck pulls up to the side of your house. No deliveries were scheduled for today, so you guessed they might've needed some assistance or looking to by something for the road. As the driver steps out of the vehicle, you're fairly surprised. They were big as you if not bigger; a slight hunch in their back obscured their full height. You've never met a human around your size and you couldn't see any features so far that would mark them as a hybrid. It was hard to see most of them really. A baseball cap was pulled over their eyes and the lower portion of their face was covered by a cloth mask. The only reason you knew was because they were staring right at you, all the way over at the open barn. The bovine at your side nudges your shoulder as you look back.

"I'll be back back soon. Okay?" You stroke her head and lead her back to the rise of the ground, picking up the filled bottles of milk and your bucket on your way out. The driver is inspecting your front door by the time you make it down the small hill to your humble home, picking at the flaking wood with their black nails. One foot on the porch and they're back focused on you. You still can't see their eyes or face, but their cheeks crinkle like they're smiling.

"Afternoon."

Their voice is...off. It's scratchy and hoarse like they haven't had a drink of water in days, but it reminds more you of static. Must be rough for truckers this time of year. "Afternoon! What can I do for you?"

The driver looks their feet, brows scrunched as they mutter to themselves. "H...ha.. Happen to have something to drink on you? I'm quite parched from my... travels."

"Course, kind of our main business here." You joke, reaching ingo your bottle for a glass. "On the house. Not to sound rude or anything, but you sound like you need it."

You hand the fresh bottle of milk to the stranger who graciously it off your hands - popping the top and taking a curious sip of the sweet cream. Their jaw shifts as they swish it around on their tongue, stiff shoulders relaxing some.

You fix the bill of your hat, horns making the task the toughest of your load. "Hope it's to your liking. Comes fresh from barn!"

The stranger studies your face and horns; eyes slowly falling to your chest and the cow print pattern of your tee. In a flash they're throwing their head back and down the entire bottle, lapping at its rim and snaking their slender tongue down its hole. It hits the bottom of the glass, pulsing against its floor. Maybe they were a hybrid -longest tongue you've ever seen. They stop only when their hat starts to slide back to fix it. You've never seen anyone so excited for your milk before - you hope the girls will be happy to hear this when you feed the herd later on.

"So, what are you doing in this parts? Haven't seen a delivery truck come by that wasn't one of mine in months."

A hairline crack runs the wall of the bottle. "I.... "ve just been on the road with no destination in mind. Searching for my place in the universe, but the country air is nice too. Think my trucks finally giving up on me, and I saw a sign for your farm down the road. Do you have a room I can stay in till I get it working? Food won't be an issue for me.. I can repay you with my services for now and send some money late on. Please..."

The poor thing. You rest your hand on their shoulder. "Slow down, it's alright. You don't have to pay me back or anything. Just focus on getting back on your feet, okay. The guest soon is a little junky right now since I haven't unpacked all my things, but you can wait in the living room while I'm moving things around. Welcome aboard."

Patting their arm, you swing the screen door open and step inside, inviting the in. Walking closer, their attention is taken by the wind chimes handing above your door, moreso the stains they reveal. The stranger takes off their coat and throws it on the chair outside your home. Your tail swings behind you with each step you take - so close yet so far. No - patience. They already had one slip up earlier with their lines. They'd rehearsed so many times, but not once did they conquer the hypothetical where you asked about them. It was the most logical option, so of course they skipped it. Their sweet cow would do nothing but offer a hand to the unfortunate. That's why they loved you so.

In their searches they found nothing to save this planet from its fate, but in the end one member of it's superior class would live on - in the stars.

[arkanis-englishupdates]

SUMMARY OF ALL ARKANIS POVS

DAY 31 — 03/10/2024

The day in Valigma starts calmly, but someone who was trapped in a cage by the consequences of "knowing too much" finally opens their eyes.

Bagi wakes up in her prison made by Bia Raux and is promptly ordered to write the name of her captor in a book and place it on the altar in front of her, causing her to be teleported to a huge and strange technological room. While exploring the place, Bagi finds a black chest with a sign on top. Opening the chest, there was only a walkie talkie.

Minutes later, Amora appears and communicates with Bagi via signs saying that she misses her. Amora says she will bring help to save her and asks Bagi to see what she can discover in this place.

After a few minutes Bagi notices strange symbols throughout the place, colors and numbers. Suddenly Bagi receives a message from Hugo saying that he took care of her so Bia wouldn't hurt her and that all the specialists were being deceived by her. He gave valuable information to Bagi, such as:

The person responsible for the death of Mayor Jota's parents is, in fact, Bia Raux.

As soon as Bagi and Hugo's contact ends due to external circumstances, Bagi manages to communicate with her friends via walkie talkie, who are desperate to look for her together, everyone works to solve puzzles to get to Bagi and save her.

They manage to successfully save Bagi and everyone meets at the city hall to go together to the House of Love/Hate (Gabepeixe, Yayahz and Coreano's house) to discuss what happened in the last few days.

After that, everyone goes to Bira's Bar where luckily the owner of the place is there, having finally returned from his trip. Everyone is having fun at the place and Bira tells huge news:

That was Bira's last day in Valigma, as he will travel without a return ticket to meet again his beloved. All experts present prepare a small farewell party in the bar and Bira leaves a letter to Jota about he taking good care of the city and about wanting the streets of Valigma to be paved.

After saying goodbye, everyone goes back to exploring and discussing the theories they all have about Valigma and Jota. Everyone there decides to go to the city's sewers for further investigation and finds a strange place with masks carved into the walls and dangerous monsters.

At City Hall, Bagi notices how Matt is different, in a bad way, and asks for an explanation, which only explains the situation very briefly and run away (At the top of the city hall building, rays appear and a pink/purple light indicating Arkanya coming out of there).

After that, Bagi decides to go to the factory and finds Gabepeixe, the two manage to enter it and sabotage one of its machines, as well as taking selfies with Araldo's robots. This action will have consequences.

[Reminding everyone that the summaries are not covering everything and a lot of information may end up being left out, but I promise to do my best to explain everything and include all the information.]

[Please, if something is not in this summary, tell us!]

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Angel Dust Redesign! (7/7)

FINALLY I AM DONE WITH THE MAIN 7 FREAKS.

Depending how I feel I might throw in some bonuses but these guys are your only guarantees! Going to be posting the full lineup separately because I don’t want to clutter this post!!

God okay where to start. I was talking about them in Husk’s post so let’s go with that. Angel’s clothing restrictions are his necklace and shoes. I might go on a bit of a tangent with this so forgive me 💔

For the necklace let me get this out of the way: yes it is a BDSM thing! I’m terrified people are going to take this as me being a weirdo but please as an adult content creator give me some space to explain before anyone jumps on me and hits me with a metal pipe. The intentions behind symbolism matter HEAVILY. I am against Vivzie’s portrayal of Angel’s abuse and the chain/collar imagery because it is blatantly either her being incredibly uncreative or her inserting her kinks into her shows. I think it is completely fine to use suggestive items in this way as long as the intentions are clear and not just there for no reason.

I would’ve probably done something else like a corset as a restriction, but I’d like to stop being so shy about Angel’s actual job. He is a pornstar and removing that outward aspect of him is taking a big chunk of his character away. I need more people to acknowledge that Angel enjoys sex and actively wanted to explore this side of himself. With the slip chain however, I would also like to portray how things Angel enjoys in his job have been used against him and made him come to resent what he does when he is forced into it. I think thats a pretty understandable thing to show.

This is harder to explain but the gist of it is just don’t be afraid to acknowledge Angel’s job. It’s okay to use sexual things as metaphors. Have you heard any christian song ever/hj

Alright with that out of the way, with the shoes. Angel’s feet are a large insecurity and discomfort of his which already makes his shoes some sort of restriction on their own, however if controlled, they can be made to stumble forward, fall over, etc. I wanted to show how Angel has freedom to go mostly wherever he pleases, though once again, that free will can be taken away very quickly.

I hated his suit so all suiting is gone entirely. He’s supposed to look attractive or eye catching at the very least. I’ve also added back the outer fangs he had in my first redesign!

I am much happier with the new one in comparison to this old guy. I know it’s only a few months old but you can really see how differently I draw him and the details I pay attention to more like the shape of his hair. Aside from the old one! I wanted Angel himself to still keep the reddish pink to show wrath and destain being masked as lust, except now his clothing is actually the pinkish-purple lust colour and it covers more eye grabbing parts of his body like the chest, hands, hips, and so on.

I don’t think I’ve ever outwardly mentioned Angel having polycoria but he does and it’s probably my favourite feature to draw aside from his hair. About the hair and fur: Angel used to have spots and basic stripes before his contract with Valentino, where afterwards they began to curl into their cordiform shapes. Most physical overlord changes with hair and skin tend to not go away, so depending on who you make a contract with it’s either a fun perk or a sort of scar.

Once again, not sure if I will be continuing with anymore in this specific lineup, but if I do end up posting more of these I really hope you like those too! 💣

[sammylbir]

Rewriting Danganronpa Characters: Gundham Tanaka

Hey folks! Welcome to another Character Rewrite Post and this time, we'll be going with my least favorite Danganronpa 2 Character. That being.....

Gundham Tanaka.

Yeah, sorry about it. I mean, I do see his strong points but...I just wish that he could have been better. Like....a lot. So, I will try my best to rewrite his character for the better, while respecting the original intent behind the character itself. As always, this is just my opinion and you can feel free to agree and disagree.

Well, with that out of the way, let us begin.

Personality:

His general demeanor will be the same, but I will tone down his hamminess. This Gundham will be a lot more quiet and appear more menacing, occasionally making grunts. They sound animalistic at times, which should showcase how he seems more at ease with his animals than with other people.

However, he is never really mean to anyone. Just very distant and when he does talk to other people, he speaks in his overlord-persona, with a polite tone. He does occasionally drop some menacing words into his speech, but it is less out of being mean and more for other reasons. Reasons I will discuss later on.

As in game, his "Muhahahahaha I am so evil lol" persona is a facade. In reality, Gundham is quite shy, socially awkward and pretty anxious in general. He does speak more normally in his true persona, with some tidbits of his overlord speech remaining. Why that's the case, will be addressed soon.

Appearance:

I really liked the hair design for Gundham in DR 3 and therefore, I shall give him that hairstyle. His overall oufit has a bit of darker texture than in canon and he is also wearing a bag that has a creepy design of sorts, with magic symbols on it. But ultimately this bag contains nothing, but food items for his hamsters and also some medicine for said animals, in case they get sick.

He also wears a mask, covering his mouth. This is supposed to make him look more menacing and off-putting, with the mask having a dark red color scheme. His eye on the left does no longer have red contacts, but instead a black one. This gives him a black eye with a white dot in the middle and depending on his mood, it would flash in various colors.

His built will be somewhat muscular and toned, because I do think he did have to exercise in order to tame certain animals that were difficult, like certain kinds of dog-breeds, eagles and whatnot. His hand without the bandage part, has a few bite marks. From his devas that is.

Past:

Well then, here I did a little revamp about his past. I understood the original message behind it, in the canon version, but feel it could be more fleshed out of sorts. So...here's my idea.

Like in canon, Gundham was born in a wedlock relationship. He came to be in a one-night stand by accident and he was born about several months later. And Gundham's childhood was...difficult.

His mother was very loving and patient towards him, often checking on him and seeing how he was doing. She devoted most of her time to work several jobs, to keep the house and themselves afloat. Gundam's dad was the opposite. While he was not physically abusive towards him, he was very neglectful. He himself was quite well-off and yet would only visit his son at least 2 times a year, because he was too busy with being in different countries and living the high-life. And if he did show up, it was solely for a fun time with Gundham's mom and not the boy himself.

His mom never broke up with him officially, because of his charms and the fact that he'd occasionally send her money. Gundham did see what a monster his dad was, when he once heard him brag about doing something.....monstrous to another woman. But at the time, Gundham was too scared to tell his mom, out of fear what his dad would do them and because he didn't want to break his mom's heart. Because he loved her that much.

Like in canon, his mom's cooking was quite...bad. But not in the sense that the meal didn't taste bad, but because the food she bought had a tendency to....not be good. This caused Gundham a lot of health problems and he never told her, because he didn't want to upset her. Unfortunately, he often missed schools, due to his health problems. And at the same time, he also learned from a convo of his parents, how he came to be.

This caused his self-image to drop and he began to view himself as a monster, something inhuman. Someone who will only hurt those, he comes the closest too and he thinks he is a burden. Due to this, he tried his best to distance himself from others, bit by bit.

He took on his "Evil overlord" persona, to drive others away. And to lift up his self-confidence and to not feel miserable all the time. For this, he studied tons of mythical books, to make his act sound more believable.

Now, why did he become an animal breeder? Well, it began when he was at the hospital. When he lied there in the bed, he noticed a hamster being all lost and confused. Gundham took care of him. He learned from the staff that the hamster belonged to an elderly patient, who suffered from dementia and passed away. Gundham took him in and named him Cham-P. He then discovered his love for animals and began to take care more of them.

As the years went by, Gundham started a blog to document his experiences with animals and at the same time, use the ads on the side to give his mom a bit of extra money. He acted more natural around his mom and said mom is still alive, before he went to Hope's Peak.

Relationship with Sonia

Now....the original game didn't really show the relationship between those two, in detail. So...let me give it a shot.

Sonia did buy into his act, but not because she liked bad boys or anything. She found his interest and knowledge of mythical and dark topics fascinating and found someone, she could connected too. She did try to open himself up to her a few times and Gundham, after hesitating, did open up to her.

Gundham at first tried to push Sonia away, but the fact that she didn't seem scared of him, made him feel more at ease. He struggled to open up to her though, out of fear that she would abandon him and then later realised, that the two were similar. Sonia wanted to be seen as normal, while Gundham wanted to be seen as dangerous. This allowed the two to confide in others and to overall, feel better about themselves.

Their relationship can be seen, as either platonic or romantic. Your choice, really.

Other Notes:

-He loves fantasy novels

-He is vegan.

-Something he can't stand in movies, is if animals get visibly injured.

-Adding to that, when an animal does get hurt by someone, Gundham would threaten to hurt said someone. Very much.

-Thanks to his dad, he has a very low opinion on those, who hit on women just because they are pretty.

-He despises zoophilia with a passion.

-His room has tons of animal plushies.

-While he can tame most of his animals, he has a hard time doing that with cats of all things, noting that they have a mind of their own.

-His favorite subject in school was biology and his least favorite, was Drama Class. The reason being is that he has stage fright.

And that's it! I hope you enjoyed this little rewrite of mine. Please LIKE and REBLOG for more posts. It helps out a lot and I wish you a good day.

Byeonara! :D

[aspoonofsugar]

Blake Belladonna's Design

This is a quick appreciation of our Cat Girl's design. Its objective is to offer a short analysis by incorporating elements of other metas. Ideally, the end result will be something similar to Yang's post. Finally, this is the final piece of my mid-summer Blake meta spree :) So, enjoy!

JUST ANOTHER CAT GIRL?

Blake's design plays with the idea of "cat girl". Cat girls are common in anime and mangas, but are often overly sexualized. In particular, cat ears are usually presented as an overly cute trait and sometimes a fetish.

RWBY takes this idea and subverts it in 2 ways.

Blake's ears are initially hidden, so that her affinity with cats gets highlighted through other aesthetical elements:

Gambol Shroud's ribbon resembles a cat's tail and it being a whip may reference the infamous cat o' nine tails

She decorates her eyes with cat eye makeup

She is able to make copies of herself, which get jokingly referred to as copycats

In Mistral she wears leg boots, which bring to mind Puss in Boots

In Atlas she wears a catsuit

Blake's cat trait becomes a core part of her identity, which is explored on a double level:

It represents her faunus heritage, which makes her different from humans and discriminated

It is a symbol of Blake's troubled past and of her involvement with the White Fang

So, Blake covers her cat ears to run from both society and herself. Just like a scaredy cat ;)

As you see, with some limitations and worldbuilding, Blake manages to be a cat girl with much depth to her. Still, there is more to her cat design.

FROM CALICO TO TUXEDO

Let's juxtapose Blake's initial concept art with her final design:

What changes is the cat used as the main inspiration.

In the initial concept art it is the calico cat (tricolor cat):

In the final character design it is the tuxedo cat (bicolor cat):

Why the change? Let's explain it by highlighting one similarity (1) and one difference (2) between the two kitties.

1- Both cats are called after a type of cloth:

Calico is a fabric, which originates in India (the set of the Jungle Book - Blake's secondary allusion) and is famous for its colorful printed patterns. I wouldn't be surprised if Blake's clothes in the concept art were meant to be calico made.

Tuxedo is a formal wear, which consists of a black suit over a white shirt and a bow tie. Well, Blake's final design is a revisitation of the traditional tuxedo with a shorter jacket and a bow worn in the hair, instead than as a tie.

The idea of "cloth" is heavily used in Blake's design, which may be one of the reasons why the tuxedo is eventually chosen. This kitty, thus, offers a pretty poignant metaphor.

It all starts with Gambol Shroud, where shroud means a piece of cloth that conceals or protects:

Here come two thoughts:

Blake's bow is her shroud which is why it resembles her weapon’s ribbon (same color and similar material). The bow is the ears, while the ribbon is the tail. Together they complement Blake’s cat design.

Some tuxedo cats are called tuxedo masks because it is as if a black mask covers their whole faces. It is easy to see how this concept fits Blake, who conceals herself thanks to a little piece of fabric.

Basically, Blakes's bow is her tuxedo tie, which is worn as a mask.

2- The two cats differ when it comes to their color:

The calico is a tricolor cat, which is mostly known as having a white coat with some orange and black patches

The tuxedo is a bicolor cat, which has white and black fur

These two color patterns are another reason why Blake has been characterized as a tuxedo instead than a calico. As a matter of fact the black and white dychotomy fits our beautiful faunus girl more.

WHITE AND BLACK = BEAUTY AND BEAST

In old English, Blake's name means both black and white. As a result, she is linked to both colors, which tie with her light and shadow motif:

Blake is associated to the twilight because it is where light and shadow meet. What's more, her musical theme is built on this duality. She starts in the shadows and climbs her way up towards the light.

Well, Light and Shadow are linked to two Jungian Archetypes:

The Light is the persona, so what is shown to others

The Shadow is what is repressed, so the hidden parts

And these two archetypes are explored in The Beauty and The Beast:

The Beauty is the light - she is beautiful, lovable and accepted

The Beast is the shadow - he is ferocious, scary and misunderstood

So, Blake's own allusion can be read as the integration of beauty and beast, light and shadow, so that a new unit (a new individual) is born. This is also Blake's arc in a nutshell. She starts as a shadow because she hides herself, but with time she steps into the light and shows the world who she is.

In other words, Blake's Beauty and Beast allusion is referenced in her appearence not only in her nature as a faunus, but in her color scheme too. She is both beauty and beast, light and shadow, white and black.

This is also why these two colors are incorporated in respectively Sun and Ilia.

Sun is white, as he leads Blake towards the light:

Ilia is black, as she forces Blake to face her own shadows:

Through them Blake integrates her shadows and stops hiding:

This is why her design changes in Mistral in two notables ways:

She gives up her bow once and for all

She wears a white jacket over a black top

These two details mirror Blake's inner journey. She learns to show herself more, so her ears get to be out in the open and the light (white) surfaces. In Beacon, instead, the ears are concealed and Blake is wrapped in shadows (black).

Ironically, this means Blake's design loses the core traits of her tuxedo cat inspiration. As a matter of fact she has no bow tie anymore and the color pattern is inverted, which doesn't work. Why this choice? It is because Blake is going from Beast (black + cat) to Beauty (white + individual). Symbolically, this happens as she shows her faunus trait more openly:

She grows more beautiful (human) as she openly embraces her beast side (cat).

GOLD, BLUE AND PURPLE = HOT, COLD AND JUST RIGHT

The shift from calico to tuxedo brings some consequences to Blake and Yang's complementary designs.

Let's compare the bees exploratory ideas:

As people have noticed, Blake and Yang are aesthetically and symbolically linked since early on.

Here, we have:

Blake with one gold eye and one blue eye

Yang with a blue bandana

This chromatic choice ties into Yang's allusion and design. As a matter of fact our Goldilocks uses colors to represent the too hot, too cold and just right. Specifically:

red/orange is the too hot

blue/green is the too cold

purple (blue + red) is the just right

So, in the picture above Yang's looks play with the dychotomy between too hot and too cold. This same duality is mirrored in Blake:

She is both too hot (gold eye) and too cold (blue eye)

She wears much gold in general (Yang's main color)

The idea is clear. Blake is Yang's hot and cold. In particular, she brings some needed blue in Yang's life. She helps Goldilocks cool down and become more balanced. Similarly, Blake proudly wears Yang's golden tones, as she has to grow more like her Golden Beauty.

So, how have these ideas evolved in Blake’s final design?

Blake has gained a strong association with purple, which makes her Yang's just right

Blake's color scheme has ditched gold in favor of silver, which makes her and Yang complementary

Blake's link to purple is interesting because this color calls back to her family and to the surname Belladonna (beautiful woman in Italian). In other words, it is connected to both Ghira's legacy and her Beauty side. So, it is not a surprise that Blake grows more purple in each arc:

She is slowly blooming into Yang's just right by reconciling with her legacy and by becoming a person worthy of our golden girl.

This transformation is highlighted also by Blake integrating some gold into her:

In both her Vale and Atlas's designs Blake is linked to silver, so that she can complete Yang's gold. Still, in Mistral she has some gold details because this is the arc where she integrates her missing parts. This integration ends with Adam's death and Blake's rebirth:

So, Blake's design tells a story of inner growth, which leads her to stand beside Yang as an equal:

Blake: She's not protecting me, Adam. And I'm not protecting her. We're protecting each other.

This theme is important for Blake's Cat Girl archetype. Cat Girls, thus, are often reduced to love interests, but Blake's arc is a deconstruction of this idea. What would happen if the male partner of a Cat Girl is abusive? Blake explores this concept and tells a story of liberation and development, which ends with a reconstruction of the trope. Our Cat Girl ends up in a happy relationship, but not as a shallow prize. Rather as a winner.

BEASTS, LIONS AND WOLVES

In conclusion, Blake's design alludes to the Beauty and Beast on three levels:

Society= Blake is both human (beauty) and animal (beast)

Couple = Blake and Yang are drawn as complementary

Individual = Blake is both white (light) and black (shadow)

Still, this is not the only fairy tale our Cat Girl ties into thanks to her animal features. Here come three examples.

Blake is Bagheera's daughter and a small panther (a cat) in the Jungle Book

Blake is a Scaredy Cat to Lioneheart's Cowardly Lion. Except that of course the cat is braver than the lion

Blake is Ruby's black beast in team RWBY's LRRH team allusion

This last reference is foreshadowed since Red Like Roses:

Black the beast descends from shadows.

After all, the Beowolves appear when Blake's line comes up.

Moreover, Blake's secondary allusions all come together to strongly link our Black Shadow to wolves. In the Jungle Book, Mowgli is raised by wolves, just like Blake grows up in the White Fang. The name of the group itself calls back to wolves, as it references the title of Jack London's book about a half-dog half-wolf, who fights to be accepted by humans.

Finally, it turns out Blake is not the only Cat, who turns out to be a Wolf:

In short, Blake's design lets her freely move between allusions and references. Not only that, but it is crafted to add depth and thematic resonance to her character and her arc. Not bad for just another Cat Girl, uh?

[shukraastro]

Hi Shukra,

I am very impressed how you interpret the looks of Jungkook's fs in this post

https://www.tumblr.com/shukraastro/769692114014633984/hello-shukraastro-based-on-how-you-analysed-jks

When you mentioned the tattoos for rahu and say that the 9th house is the spouses shoulders arms hands and fingers this is exactly the places where Jungkook has all of his tattoos. Can this point out that his spouse also has a very prominent 9th house with rahu in it? In another post you also said his black sun and and eye tattoo are a big give away related to sun and rahu and something with chitra??

I'm very curious could you explain this a little bit more? Is there also a way to analyse tattoos specifically?

I'm sorry if I ask too many questions. It's just that you give so many clues and then you sort of shy away and make us even more curious about it.

I wished I had your brain😭 (this is something which Jungkook always says to one of his members) but girl I really wished I had your brain. The way you connect things is just unbelievable. Keep it up💪🏼

Tattoos is a very intersting topic. You can dig so deep into each and every tattoo. With Jungkook he has his entire arm tattooed, which is ruled by the 3rd house. So his spouse must have a busy 9th house connecting the themes and symbolism with her planets and Nakshatras also with an activation of the 8th house. The 8th house rules over scarring/piercing the skin/spilling blood, Clair Nakti has released a video on this topic.

My very high guesses are that his spouse has a Sun and Rahu Chitra because he had a tiger (animal yoni of Chitra) tattoo and covered it with a black Sun (Solar Eclipse). Why do I think it's Chitra and not Vishakha since they both have the tiger as animal yoni? First of all his tiger tattoo representsed the Korean peninsula so it had a reference to his land and Chitra is ruled by Mars which is the incicator of land. Secondly, because of his red eye tattoo which gives us another repeating pattern but pointing at the theme of Chitra. The red eye is another theme of Sun-Rahu eclipse and he covered it with a tattoo by the song reference "Bullet Proof". The phrase itself shows the theme of the martian Nakshatra Chitra, crafting and perfecting weapons. Further more his mandala like patterns show more the mercurian and venusian side of Chitra. His birth flower tattoo the Tiger Lily with the phrase "Please love me", carries another reference to the themes of Chitra and Libra (Venus - love and flowers) and the tiger yoni. The clouds imagery as well as the 3 stripes from the South Korean flag (representing heaven) could have a connection to Swati, Swati is all about the sky/heaven which he got covered with a snake (Swati's ruler Rahu). So she could very likely have Sun-Rahu in Chitra and another planet in Swati. It could be Venus because if we look further into his other tattoos he has a note key and a microphone, which are linked with his love for music and singing. Which again are themes of Swati, because Swati represents the musicical sounds that are carried through the air. Now I think there could be two more planets involved in this for the other tattoos. His clock tattoo and his bull tattoo with the latin numbers as well as the 7 behind his ear and the letters and + signs on his hand give very strong Mercury and Hasta themes. The bull can be seen as the buffalo yoni of Hasta, Swati has a buffalo yoni as well but it doesn't explain the belonging latin numbers, therefore Hasta makes more sense. The analogue clock tattoo which represents time is a very mercurial theme, because it carries numbers and takes skilled craftsmanship. Also Hasta is connected to anything that is golden. The hand gesture tattoo with a geometrical shape in the background also show another mercurial Hasta theme, Hasta is represented by the hand. The letters, date, plus crosses, emoji and Army symbol (geometric shape) are more themes of Mercury and Hasta. As for the remaining two tattoos, the golden mask and Moon I see another link. The theatrical golden mask with red bands shares traits of Hasta and the creatively performing traits of Purva Phalguni. Hasta's lord is the Moon, if she could likely have a Purva Phalguni Moon, in this case the moon tattoo would also make sense with a Swati Venus. Because Purva Phalguni's lord is Venus. A Purva Phalguni Moon and it's lord Venus in Swati in her 9th house (his 3rd house) would then put a moon at the very top of his entire arm along with the clouds surrounding it. And while a Sun-Rahu eclipse placed in Chitra would hold the lower degrees a black Sun tattoo would be positioned much lower than the Moon. The crown and purple heart symbol on his hand could be as well linked with the Purva Phalguni and Venus (royalty and love). Purva Phalguni's color is red and with the venusian coloring from Swati's influence it would explain the purple color.

This is how I would read his tattoos with examples of possible placements in his FS chart. My theory is she has a busy 9th house in Libra and an 8th house placement in Virgo with a 7th house placement in Leo. Activating Nakshatras like Chitra, Swati, Hasta and Purva phalguni in her big 6 because the themes and symbolisms of these Nakshatra's are very clear in his tattoos.

And again, take this with a grain of salt.

Have a nice day. 🌺

[your-nanas-house]

Dick grayson x blackwidow reader smut (😈😈) where there cocky enemys and kinda hate love sitch and he's tied up she's nearest to help and things get spicy 🤭🤭

Right away 😈

Tied up

◇ Pairing: Dick Grayson X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: angst, slightly smut, enemies to lovers

◇ Summary: Dick is tied up and Blackwidow helps him.

◇ Notes: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

Bruce's voice boomed in the empty room where Dick had been tied up, wearing his Nightwing suit, and the mask still on. His light-blue-covered phone was somewhat away from him, which was why the boy had had to ask the google assistant to put the call on speakerphone while he tried to free himself.

He was assured that someone would arrive in a short time to help him though, too bad that that someone was the one he considered his enemy— she called herself 'Blackwidow' when she was wearing her heroine costume and simply Y/n when she was wearing her everyday clothes.

Dick could already hear her heels in the distance getting closer and closer until the young woman was in sight; her gaze on him accompanied by an amused smile, her hand was on her hip and her head was slightly tilted.

"Well...Well—" the snort that came out of Dick's mouth interrupted her, his blue eyes on her all the time, following her action suspiciously 

"Hello Y/n," he muttered annoyed a few minutes later after the realization that she was not going to help him immediately, finding the situation, the young man had gotten himself into, too amusing

"Are you going to help me or what!" Dick asked, annoyed, still uncomfortably tied to the wall of that abandoned building.

Y/n slowly approached, a dangerous but still amused look behind the blank mask of her face. She did not open her mouth, merely walked slowly around him and then pressed her body against his in an attempt to reach the higher ropes to untie or cut them.

Their bodies were pressed against each other, her slight movements causing a pleasant friction at Dick's crotch as he tried to hide his blushing and his growing arousal not wanting to receive any teasing.

Things got worse, however, when Dick moved his hips, poking her directly on her lower belly making her feel his rock-hard boner which was just waiting for attention from someone. 

Luckily for him nothing bad happened, not like he had imagined when he was previously trying to hide it in total embarrassment; in fact, things took an even more positive turn as Y/n's hand, that had previously been busy cutting the ropes, slowly moved to her chest, caressing his symbol before continuing on its path, which was unknown to Dick but that stopped exactly where he hoped.

The young man tried to open his mouth to say something but Y/n's lips ensured that he didn't speak as her hand stopped on his boner- she squeezed it gently, muffling the moan of pleasure Dick let escape in the kiss, and then began massaging his cock through the fabric, speeding up her palm movements only when she noticed a difference in the tone of his moans.

"I have to admit, you look very sexy tied up like this," Y/n joked before moving her hand away as soon as Dick's release wetted the fabric of his suit.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

[queen0fm0nsterz]

I wanted to ask your ask the lady blog but I can't find it.

Do you think the lady's library is organised at all? There are some parts which you obviously wouldn't be able to reach unless you can fly, and I wonder what kind of books are in a pile if she's the only one reading them. Maybe she has someone or something put her books away or shelve new books, but they don't always do a great job?

OH... MY LADY BLOG... MY POOR LADY BLOG THAT'S SITTING ON A SHELF TAKING DUST...

Alright, so! This is actually a very interesting questions because the answer is a very contraddictory one: kiiiiiinda? There's definitely... a lot pointing to it not being as organized these days...

But, in contrast, I will also say that there seems to be a method to the madness -- as there usually is with the Lady.

The books I pointed out up there are just a few piles of the ones that can be found out of place, and somehow their scattered and overwhelming presence seems to be invoking the exact opposite feeling her bedroom does: whereas her private space feels barren and sombre, the rest of her quarters are full of mayhem in a way that feels almost quietly frenetic. Those books look like they've been taking dust for a while... however, there is a few things of interest to note.

In the part of the Residence with the Book Puzzle, you'll notice that the bookshelf has different kind of eyes depicted at the bottom of each.

(Images are a courtesy of @/dailylittlenightmares, go follow them)

These are meant to match up with the respective books, who also have the same symbols. Their shapes match the ones underneath the three statuettes RK has to retrieve, so I came to assume these books/bookshelves specifically are each tied to one specific predecessor. Maybe some of them were their belongings, books from their era, or this is simply another method to categorize specific topics so that it's easy to not mix them up.

This is of course open to interpretation - especially considering there's no eye with the shape of an exagon (which is under the green statuette), but all other bookshelves in that room have this symbol underneath:

... indicating that the books in them might have miscellaneous subjects.

I'm pretty sure, however, that this method of categorization only counts for this specific room as I was not able to find any other bookshelf that has any of these symbols outside of it.

Considering this is also where you find the book with the Lady's mask on the cover, my current interpretation is that the books in this room are all tied to her magical practices. Now, whether this room in the library was actually made by her or by someone before her, that's up for debate: I'm leaning towards the latter honestly. The entire Residence feels like a joint effort, put together through a few generations -- which is probably why it feels more chaotic as opposed to the Lady's own bedroom... but digressing.

There are items here which suggest that, at one point, she did need furniture in order to reach the higher shelves.

I wonder if she still uses it to this day... admittedly she's rather tall now, and as you pointed out she can fly.

(Imagining a little Lady trying to make her way thru the tall bookshelves :( )

I honestly don't think there's anyone here doing the organizing besides herself. Which is probably why it doesn't look very organized at all. The Lady is very precise, but only when it comes to mantaining the very fragile structure of the chaos she's grown accustomed to. At this point there's no reason in putting the books away as long as she can still use them. It's a controlled mayhem, and when something becomes out of place - like the Runaway Kid - she disposes of it. In a way, it reflects how she rules the Maw, right?

[ivys-thick-juicy-thighs]

In The Low Light - Chapter 1

Photo by Adam Rossi

Masterlist

Notes: alright you lovely peeps. Here it is. Chapter 1 of my very first fan fiction. If you love it, let me know, if you don’t, well I don’t know. Proofread and continuity check by the lovely @thewayyoulay (if you get a notif for this, sorry. I’m just updating stuff) thank you friend, for your time. The two men that corner the main character are not II and III, they will be introduced later on as themselves. If you want to be added to a taglist, let me know.

Summary: we meet our main character as she’s walking home from work. She gets stopped and cornered by some unsavoury individuals, but before anything terrible can happen, in steps an unlikely saviour.

Word count: 1643

Warnings: flashbacks to MC’s SA, heavy language, skipping meals due to stress.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The slush splashes under my boots as I walk down the sidewalk of the busy street. The late autumn air bites through the thick layers of downy fluff in my brown knee length jacket. I shiver against the cold seeping down into my bones, and adjust my scarf and my woollen hat. The rain patters against my umbrella, the soft sounds blending with the constant hum of vehicles rushing past me. The air is filled with a mixture of exhaust fumes and something fried from the restaurants nearby. My stomach rolls with the thought of food. Seven more blocks, and I’m home. Then it’s cheap ramen, a glass of wine, and a hot shower. Maybe I’ll watch another episode of that show I just started. My thoughts are interrupted by the cheers and jeers of two men on the sidewalk a few yards ahead of me, the sound of their voices bouncing off the walls of the overpass above them. Two motorcycles are parked on the side of the road beside them. Dread begins to build in my chest as I slow my approach.

I begin to mentally list off anything I have that could be used as a weapon when the two men turn their attention on me. They both have a slight build, they’re quite scrawny really, one of them is very tall, well over six feet, and the other comes to just above his shoulder. Both of them tower over me. They’re both wearing dark gray leather jackets with a handful of strange symbols and glyphs on them. Covering the bottom half of their faces are black fabric masks.

The taller one speaks first, his voice dripping with condescension. “Hey, mama, you wanna come home with me? You’d make a great addition to my bedroom.” His companion joins in with a disgusting, predatory laugh. My heart hammers in my chest and my ears ring with the flood of adrenaline. My hands start to shake, and the handle of my umbrella slips on the sweat in my palms. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat. Painful images and memories from years ago flash through my mind, and my breath catches in my chest.

“N-No, I’m not interested.” I try to say this with even a sliver of conviction, but by their reactions, I can tell they see through it. I attempt to walk around them, but the shorter one blocks my path, and the two of them push in closer to me until my back is against the wall. “I said I’m not interested. Now get away from me, or I-I’ll call the cops.” I hold my umbrella in front of me to keep a barrier between me and my assailants.

The short one opens his mouth to say something but before he gets a single word out, he’s cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Gentlemen, I believe the lady said she isn’t interested. I think it would be a good idea to leave her be.” The voice is smooth, collected but with a certain subtle edge of authority that made it clear that challenging it would be a very poor decision.

A peculiar look of fear dances across the faces of the two men, and they back away from me, their eyes glued to their feet. They stand with their hands behind their back, and their heads ducked, looking remarkably like two school children in trouble with the principal. The principal in this case being a third man, a little less than six foot tall, wearing the same jacket though his is covered with the same weird symbols, hardly any space left bare. On his feet are heavy leather riding boots, his legs adorned with dark gray denim jeans. His jacket hangs open, showing a black pullover hoodie; poking out of his sleeves are his hands, covered with the thin black leather of his gloves. A patch on his left shoulder displays the Roman numeral IV. He’s still wearing his helmet, the visor still down, obscuring his face. He’s quite attractive, even if he does scare the shit out of me. The thought races through my mind before I can stop it. “First week on the job and this is how you act? You best believe that The Boss will be hearing about this. This isn’t the kind of shit we do around here. We don’t need this added to our reputation, do we gentlemen? Besides, I don’t get paid enough to clean up your fucking mess.” He spits the last sentence at the two figures in front of him. As he speaks, he steps closer to the others until he is directly in front of them. “Now can one of you explain to me why you’re still here?”

The shorter man answers him in a hushed tone, his voice full of shame. “You haven’t dismissed us yet, sir.” He keeps his eyes on the ground.

What I think is a brief chuckle emanates from the man aptly labeled IV. “Excellent observation. Before I dismiss you, I want to see you apologize to the young lady for scaring her.” He turns his body towards me, his hand held out in a beckoning gesture. I keep my back pressed firmly against the concrete behind me, and lift my umbrella higher in front of me. The two other men mumble out apologies, the words desperately lacking any meaning. Mr. Roman numerals notices this, clearly displeased with the lack of effort. “You can do better than that, you rats!” The subtle edge that was in his voice is now razor sharp, and cuts through the air, the two men flinching at the harsh tone.

“W-we’re sorry, ma’am, for acting out of line. It was very rude and inconsiderate of us.” The taller man speaks up first, his voice slightly shaking. His eyes flick up to mine for only a second, but the remorse I see is genuine.

The shorter man speaks next, “We acted like wild animals, and it was wrong. We’re very very sorry.” His eyes stay on his feet, and his voice is laced with equal parts fear and guilt.

The third man seems pleased with these apologies, and turns his attention back to me. “Do you accept?” I can feel his gaze burning into me through the dark tinted visor of his helmet.

I hesitate, glancing between the three men standing before me. The two are still standing there, hands behind their backs, eyes on the ground. The third man, Roman numerals himself, is waiting for an answer. I just want this strange moment to be over. I slowly nod my head yes, and swallow heavily.

“I need to hear you say it, love.” His voice has a softness to it now, a stark contrast to earlier.

I clear my throat and say, “Yes, I accept.” The strength in my voice surprises even me.

“Wonderful.” He turns back to the other two. “Before I let you two leave, if I ever see you two doing anything like this again, you’ll have to answer to me. And I don’t think you want that.” His voice is dripping with the promise of danger. He pauses for a few moments. “Now, I’m sick of seeing your faces. Go.” At his command, the two men turn and hurriedly walk to their bikes and speed off down the street. It’s at this point that I notice a third motorcycle parked, Mr. Numeral’s I assume. He releases a loud sigh, and turns back to me, his hands raising slowly.

My arm jerks the umbrella up higher, fear crashing through my body again. “St-stay away from me.” I hate how much my voice shakes, matched only by the tremors in my hands. “I’m not afraid to use this thing.” This comes out as a half strangled sob. I need to breathe. I force my lungs to work.

He freezes in place, before lowering his hands and holding them out in front of him, palms open towards me as if calming a spooked animal. He speaks with a soft tone. “Easy, princess. I’m not going to hurt you. I may be a criminal, but I’m not a monster.” He takes two steps back, creating more space between us. The vice grip on my chest loosens a little. “I just want to take my helmet off.” He raises his hands back up, and slowly pulls off his helmet, revealing a strange ornate mask covering his whole face. Most of the mask is black, with gold patches and tendrils adorning the rest of it. Over the forehead and around the eyes is a white lined pattern that I don’t recognize. His hair is covered by a backwards facing flat brim cap. The only feature that is visible are his eyes, and they’re a piercing brilliant blue. They cut through to my soul when they land on mine. “I don’t think you should be walking alone in this area. Can I—”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t fucking follow me.” I raise my umbrella back over my head and turn on my heels, continuing to walk in the direction of my home. Before I could get out of earshot, I heard him call out after me. I wasn’t going to. The rest of my walk home was reduced to a blur, as my mind floods with images of 6 years ago, and they bleed into the fresh memories from today. Tears pour down my cheeks at the memories of unwelcomed hands on my skin, staking claim on something that was not theirs.

As I slam my door closed behind me and slide the bolt home, all traces of my appetite have vanished. I walk to my small bathroom in the dark, and stand under the shower until the water turns ice cold.