#and fixing it requires manipulating People

[sunderwight]

SV fic where the cosmic powers that isekai people have started using shitty AI to replace wayward souls as transmigration guides, so whereas various Systems used to function by connecting users to actual individuals in some sort of interdimensional purgatory who were trying to earn good karma by fixing the destinies of doomed worlds, these days the celestials figure they can save on divine expenses by just using machines that don't require karmic repayment to keep transmigrators and reincarnators and etc on track until they complete their missions.

Which has gone about as well as one would expect. Systems changing up rules on a dime, doling out rewards and punishment with very little consistency, contradicting themselves, creating totally new and not even valid point categories, hallucinating new requirements for the plot or getting the basic facts of their worlds deeply wrong because they can't tell the difference between canon and fanon, or even the differences between worlds with enough similarly named places, people, creatures, and so on.

Enter Peerless Cucumber and Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, who both independently figure out that their Systems are of dubious quality and figuring out ways to manipulate that to their advantage.

Cucumber keeps coming up with complicated methods of manipulating the System's AI into creating the exact missions and scenarios he needs in order to avoid his canonical bad end and rewrite Luo Binghe's life for the better.

Shang Qinghua just does this:

System: Warning! Failure to complete the current mission in a timely fashion will result in a point deduction penalty!

Shang Qinghua: Whoa there System-bro, are you sure you meant to say penalty?

System: Apologies, this System was in error. Failure to complete the current mission will reward a point deduction.

Shang Qinghua: A point deduction doesn't sound like a reward?

System: That is correct. A point deduction is a penalty.

Shang Qinghua: So wouldn't it be more accurate to say that if I fail to complete the mission, you'll reward me with additional points?

System: Yes that's accurate.

Shang Qinghua: Okay phew glad we cleared that up, System-bro!

[traveler-at-heart]

Hot and Cold

Summary: Natasha's playing with fire when a new resident joins the Compound.

A/N: Queen of Angst @esposadejoyhuerta asked for the fluffiest, sweetest, tooth rotting story ever and I was happy to deliver, even after they changed their request to inclue jealousy BECAUSE no one can stop me. Love ya, baby!

Another day, another mission. Since last week’s mess, it seems like Fury’s been finding ways to torture the team.

Yes, at the end they were able to retrieve the drive with the data of over twenty enhanced individuals. But so did HYDRA. And now the Avengers are on a race against time to locate them before the Russians do.

Natasha walks to Fury’s office, not excited at the prospect of risking her life to recruit people who didn’t really want to be found.

“Yes?” she says as soon as Fury turns around. He hands over a very heavy binder. “Is this their criminal record?”

Great, a weirdo with a troubled past. Natasha might not make it out alive.

“No, that’s their academic stuff. She’s a scientist. Crazy smart” Fury explains. “Have you heard of Bio-Thermokinesis?”

“No, not really”

“The ability to manipulate the body temperature of oneself and/or others” he recites, having learned the concept just now.

“That doesn’t sound so bad” Natasha says, closing the folder. It’s certainly better than the last few people she had to chase down.

“Yeah, until she induces a heat stroke or hypothermia” Fury scoffs. “We’ve been failing at recruiting these people. It would be nice to have a win. Plus, she could work in the lab with Banner and Stark”

“I don’t think Nerd Club is worth one’s freedom” Natasha mutters, skimming through the file.

“Well, either way, this mission doesn’t requires strenght. It requires charm. You up for it or should I send Hill?”

As Natasha gets to the picture of the target, she looks up.

“I’ll handle it”

—

As usual, you’re carrying more than you can possibly handle. Books, your laptop, a sandwich from the cafeteria, and correspondence from the main office.

By the time you manage to open the door to your office, half of the things in your arms are dangerously close to scattering across the hardwood floor.

“Oh, shit” you mutter when your keys drop.

“Need a hand?” a voice says and you jump back, the rest of your stuff flying across the room. 

“Uh… can I help you?” you say, because the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is perched up on your desk, legs crossed and a playful smirk across her striking features.

“Are you Doctor Y/L/N?”

“Yes. How did you…? I’m pretty sure the door was locked” 

Is she a thief? You have absolutely nothing of value, at least not for a conventional burglar. You run every possibility in your mind and then you land on your second least favorite one.

Natasha notices the room getting warmer, probably because of how flustered you got. The file seems accurate regarding your power.

“AC broke down?” she asks innocently, undoing the top button of her shirt.

“Uh… I… I’ll open the window” you say, pushing it and leaning against the window pain. You consider jumping down to escape, but it’s a considerable height. You take a breath, deciding to face the matter head on. “So, which agency sent you?”

“Ever heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yes, that was my first guess” you admit with a sad smile. “What can I do for you, Agent…?”

“Call me Natasha” she says, hopping off the desk. “I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news… and a generous offer”

“Mmm” you nod, fixing your glasses. 

“A tactical team was sent to stop the purchase of confidential information for 30 enhanced individuals. We were able to obtain it… and so did HYDRA”

“Listen” you raise your hand, taking off your glasses and pinching the bridge of your nose. “I get it. HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. know about me. The thing is, my power isn’t something you can leverage in a fight. I doubt they’ll be very interested in me”

“I think you’re wrong. And it’s not just your ability. Your expertise in science and your genetic makeup can be used to experiment”

“So, is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to do with me?” you sigh, looking out the window. You’re enjoying the view, vaguely aware that life as you know it is over.

“We want to offer you shelter at the Avengers Compound. 24 hour security, top facilities and technology. You can continue your research” Natasha says, trying to make it sound like a great deal.

It brings her back to that time Fury told her it was either work for the US government or end up in the Raft.

Your offer is slightly better, but a golden prison is still a prison.

“Are there any questions I can answer before you make a decision?” she offers with a kinder tone.

“Yeah. Do I even have a choice?”

—

Academic life is all you’ve ever known. Grants were the perfect way to do your research without having to look for a benefactor and expose yourself. You could learn things about your DNA, your abilities, while doing other stuff without anyone noticing.

Now, you wake up and there’s nothing that drives you. You live with people who have exceptional skills, physical prowess, and military training. Their world is avenging, your world is scientific papers and books.

Sure, their lab is nice, but most of the times you end up leaving early, completely unmotivated and feeling empty. 

Natasha watches from afar, and although this isn’t her doing, she feels responsible. She tries to include you in activities she understands, like training, but you’re very obviously not the athletic kind.

Banner is, as usual, isolating himself and Tony speaks nerd, but is barely around unless a mission requires his presence. 

It isn’t until one day that Peter shows up to the Compound that Natasha gets an idea.

“Hi, Miss Romanoff. Is Mister Stark around?” he asks in that shy tone he always uses when he’s around Natasha.

“Nope, not to my knowledge. Do you need anything?” 

“FRIDAY told me to meet him here. He must have forgotten. I guess I better get back to my Biochem project”

Wait a minute.

He’s a nerd.

“Stay” she says, looking him up and down. Peter reminds her of a puppy when he stops completely, as if he learned a new command. “Wait for Tony at the lab. I’ll try to find him”

“You’re sure? I’m not allowed inside by myself” he hesitates, following Natasha.

“Yeah, it’s fine” she types in the access code, and of course, there you are, spinning in your chair.

As soon as you hear the door opening, you stop your movements, almost falling off.

Natasha finds your blush adorable.

“Hey, Y/N. This is Peter. He’ll be around waiting for Tony”

“Oh, hey. Ok, I was just leaving. I’m kinda stuck either way”

“Ordinary Differential Equations?” Peter says as soon as he gets his eyes on your board.

“Yes. Very impressive” you nod. “This is focused on genetic network. I’m trying to determine inborn errors of metabolism”

“Oh, you know? There’s a brilliant Doctor who’s working on that, maybe her paper would be great for you. She’s Y/N Y/L/N”

“Yeah, that’s me” you say, tapping your chin and examining the board. “What is your ability? If you have any? Maybe I can use a different set of data”

“Yes! I would love to, what do you need from me?” Peter says, a little starstruck at finding out you’re one of the most prestigious researchers in the world. 

“For now, a blood sample” you wink at him, adjusting your glasses.

Natasha sits in the back of the lab as you and Peter work together, and you explain every concept to him. This is the first time since you arrived that you don’t look so miserable.

The Russian takes it as a small win when you join her in the common area for dinner.

--

Since Peter found out about your abilities and your permanent stay at the Compound, you’ve been advising him on his project and college applications. Which is a really nice distraction, but it also makes you miss your own college days.

So, even if you’re in a better mood, it’s still hard to socialize with the team.

One day, you enter the lab to find Rogers, Wilson and Barnes looking at a screen, while Natasha types.

“Whoever encrypted this is slightly smarter than me. Only slightly” 

They look away as you drag a chair to focus on your own stuff, a cup of coffee in your hand and a cookie in your mouth.

“Hi…” you wave at them, feeling intimidated as usual.

“Hey, weather girl” Sam winks at you. 

Natasha rolls her eyes and elbows him.

“Ignore him, Y/N”

You can tell she’s getting frustrated, so you inch closer, looking at the code over her shoulder. Placing your hand on her elbow, you silently ask for permission to take over.

The redhead eyes you curiously, but stops typing and moves the keyboard your way. It takes you twenty seconds to hack into the files.

“How…?”

“I used to hack into databases to make sure my name wasn’t on any watchlist” you explain casually. Natasha laughs at that. “Anyway, there you go”

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re my hero” Natasha says, smiling up at you. Her tone makes you blush and you nod, going back to your desk.

“Nice work. We could use your help if you’re free some other time” Steve says as they leave the lab.

“Of course, Capitan” 

—

An intruder changes your mind about training. The threat is handled swiftly and you don’t even have time to hide before F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms the suspect has been taken into custody

But you don’t even know how to begin to defend yourself, so you come back to Natasha, asking if her offer still stands.

Needless to say, the spy is more than happy to train you. Not just because it means you’re comfortable asking for things, but because Natasha can teach you something that will help you protect yourself.

You start with two sessions per week, which later turns to four, until you’re comfortable with training almost daily.

The rest of the team joins from time to time, giving you advice and helping you when Natasha’s away on missions.

After a few weeks, Natasha notices how your resistance is better and you’re building some muscle.

Only as a professional observation. It’s not like she finds you attractive, with that nerdy charm and toned arms.

One day, as you’re leaving the gym, she checks her bag, cursing when she notices she forgot a change of clothes. 

“Wanna borrow one of my hoodies?” you offer, handing over your NYU sweatshirt.

“You sure?” Natasha hesitates.

“Yeah, I got tons of these. From all the places I’ve done work or research” 

“I’ll give it back” she promises, taking it.

That turns out to be a lie.

A few days later, when you’re folding your laundry, F.R.I.D.A.Y. requests that you join Tony and Banner in the lab. Leaving the basket in the living room, you think nothing of it, nor do you notice that a couple of your sweatshirts are gone.

It all comes to light a week later, when Natasha comes back from a grueling mission. The only thing that will make her feel better is staying in her room while wearing your UCLA hoodie.

She totally forgets about her attire when she answers the door.

“Huh, so that’s where it was” you tilt your head, smiling.

“I…”

“I’m watching a movie, care to join me? It’s one of your favorites” 

“Ok” she nods, surprised that you’re not mad about the stolen sweatshirt. 

Natasha enters your room, appreciating the combination of books, notes and the board with equations. After you apologize for the mess, you offer a place to sit in your bed.

“It looks good on you” you compliment the redhead. Natasha smiles, trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Thank you” 

It becomes a habit, to steal your hoodies.

“Objectively speaking, you don’t actually need them as you can regulate your temperature” Natasha comments one day, digging through your closet. To her shock, she finds a sweatshirt with a sorority logo on it.

“Not mine. A girl I hooked up with in college” you explain.

Natasha rolls her eyes, throwing the garment as far away as possible while pulling a face. You laugh at her reaction.

“Don’t be jealous, Natty. You’re my favorite” you promise, unaware of the effect your words had on her.

“And yet you never let me wear the Harvard one”

“That was my first” you shrug your shoulders.

“First college or first hook up?” Natasha taunts and you laugh.

“A nerd never kisses and tell. Actually, a nerd rarely kisses anyone to being with” you try to joke, pulling out the Harvard sweatshirt from your closet to put it on.

Natasha eyes it, and you catch her intentions a little too late. She inches forward and you stretch your arm back, trying to place the hoodie out of reach.

“Nu-uh” you shake your head, laughing as she keeps trying to steal it. “Natasha, there are like ten other hoodies you  could take!” 

“I want this one!” she insists, jumping. Her body crashes against yours, and you both stumble, falling in your bed. Limbs are tangled and her laugh tickles your ear as she struggles to lift herself up. After a moment, Natasha smiles, looking at your lips. “Gotcha”

You don’t even know what to say, her intense stare making you feel warm -both literally and figuratively - and your heart beats faster when it seems like she’ll lean forward and kiss you.

“Agent Romanoff, there’s an urgent call for you” FRIDAY interrupts the moment. 

Natasha sighs, standing up and looking at you. 

“Catch you later?”

“Yeah” you nod, trying to hide your disappointment.

—

Natasha was gone for a week, and returned with a very bad injury. You heard the news as Steve and Tony were arguing in the kitchen, blaming each other as usual.

“Where…? Is she ok…?” you try to interrupt them, but they’re in the middle of a screaming match.

“Come with me” Maria says, taking you to a whole different wing of the Compound. Since you’ve never been on missions, you didn’t know about the Medbay.

Natasha’s lying in a hospital bed, asleep.

“She’s ok. A guy threw a knife at her, but it was only a superficial stab wound. Doctor said she’ll be discharged tomorrow” Maria eases your nerves. 

Of course, for her it’s easy to say it’s no big deal. Agents are shot, blown up, killed in the field. A little scratch is nothing, especially for Natasha. But you take a deep breath, leaving the Medbay in a rush.

As you lock yourself in the Avenger’s Lab, you make F.R.I.D.A.Y. a simple request.

“Show me the mission’s footage”

—

Natasha’s had worst, truly. But still, her head is throbbing when she wakes up. The doctor discharges her with the instruction to rest for a week. No training either.

The Russian notices a bag with clothes on the chair next to her bed. She finds your Harvard sweatshirt, which puts a tiny smile on her face.

You are nowhere to be found in the Compound when she returns, so she goes to her room to take another nap, the painkillers making her sleepy.

By the time Natasha wakes up to get something to eat, F.R.I.D.A.Y. requests her presence in the lab.

“What is it?” she says, surprised to find you working on a tablet. It looks like you haven’t slept in the last 24 hours, five or six cups of coffee around the various tables in the lab.

“I created a new technology for your suit” you jump right to it. “It has motion sensors that are triggered by incoming threats. That way, if someone tries to sneak up on you, you can either get an alert or program a defense mechanism that can be shot from any part of the suit” 

Natasha takes the tablet, running the simulation. She’s impressed with the level of detail you’ve placed on this and on such short time. She’s about to thank you, but you’re already asleep in the couch of the lab, clearly exhausted from all the work you’ve done.

The sight of your sleeping form makes Natasha’s heart flutter.

—

Movie night is the one tradition you’ve always been on board with. Coincidentally, it’s Natasha’s least favorite. Depending on her mood, she’ll join everyone on the living room, or talk you into watching something else in your room or hers.

Tonight, she stops by once the movie has already started. As usual, you’re on the couch in the far back of the room, your glasses reflecting the screen as you eat some popcorn.

“Hey” Natasha leans over the back of the couch and whispers against your ear, making you jump. Your eyes follow her as she jumps over to plop down next to you.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that with a hole on your side, Natasha” you reprimand. 

“It’s fine” she lies, grabbing some popcorn.

As the movie keeps going, the woman inches closer to you. At first you think she’s settling in her seat, but then her hand spreads on the back of the couch, dangerously close to your neck.

It’s fine. You can handle it.

Nope, you absolutely can’t. Not when you feel Natasha’s nimble fingers playing with the hairs on the back of your neck, her digits alternating between caressing the skin and scratching your scalp.

“You’re hot” she whispers at some point and you turn to look at her, dazed.

“Huh?”

“You feel hot” she clarifies a second later, her eyes looking at your lips. “Is everything ok? Those powers of yours are acting up”

“I’m fine” you nod, looking back at the screen. Aware that you are in fact increasing the temperature in the room, you take a breath and close your eyes, before anyone else notices.

You’re almost back to normal when Natasha stretches and lies across your lap, her left hand squeezing your thigh as the other one begins to trace patterns in your skin.

All while she's wearing your Harvard sweatshirt.

Your only thought is to take it off, along with the rest of her clothes and kiss every inch of her body.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., is the thermostat broken…?” Tony finally snaps, annoyed at the sudden changes in temperature. “Never mind” 

Everyone follows his eyes as he looks to the back of the room, where Natasha is playing dumb while riling you up.

“Can you two find a room to turn into a sauna and spare the rest of us?” Tony says, which makes your eyes widen, and the room practically turns into a freezer. “Great, now we’re all turning into popsicles. Cap, you’re familiar with the feeling, right?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Tony” Natasha finally stands up, showing you some mercy. “Come on, detka” 

“Uh, ok” you say, your voice barely a whisper as you allow the woman to drag you back to her room.

As soon as the door is shut, she pushes you against it.

“So, tell me” she says with a playful smile. “How hot do you think it will get here?”

You can only shake your head, speechless. Natasha smiles, kissing you softly. All thoughts leave your head, opening your mouth to give her access. You’ll do anything she asks, anything at all.

“I see” she smiles when the room gets hot. “Good thing we won’t have our clothes on” 

It’s the best sex of your life.

So much so, the fire alarm goes off in the entire Compound.

“Fucking worth it” you sigh as you’re both naked in bed, the water from the sprinklers evaporating from all the heat in the room.

[baldudiable]

Venus in love

Aries Venus : Falls in love quickly, and out of love just as fast. With Aries being the first sign of the zodiac, this Venus can become impatient, often jumping headfirst into relationships. What she refuses to acknowledge is that the intensity usually fades after time. When it does, she can grow bored and move on to the next person. This is a passionate Venus who's prone to fantasy. She has issues with commitment, especially with Aries energy being so dominant and uncompromising. She is only satisfied when her lover worships her and gives her everything she wants. However, Venus in Aries will remain unfulfilled and lonely until she learns that love requires balance, dedication, and patience.

Taurus Venus: This Venus is in it for the long haul. Trust is of utmost importance to her, and it is given over time. However, it can be easily broken, and once lost, it is hard to regain. she loves deeply and takes offense easily. Her fixed energy makes her loyal, but with taurus being venus’s home, she also enjoys the attention she gets from others. she might even flirt or play with it, but she is unlikely to cross any lines. she is generous with her possessions and energy, but only after you have earned a place in her heart. she may remain in a relationship long after its expiration date, as she fears losing the sense of stability it provides.

Gemini Venus: This airy Venus is hard to get and hard to keep. She's always on the move, seeking excitement and stimulation wherever she goes. She likely won't stay in a dynamic where she isn’t mentally engaged or captivated. She is often content with celibacy, as she typically has a wide circle of friends to rely on or hobbies that keep her busy. What she desires most in a relationship is a partner who can be a true friend, someone who teaches her things she doesn’t know and joins her on her quest for fun.

Cancer Venus: It’s hard getting into this Venus’s affection as she's very protective of her heart. She is guarded as her love has been taken for granted before. Her cardinal quality makes her fall in love quickly, but also unlikely to express it before the other person does or proves their worthiness. Once in a relationship, she gives her all to her partner. She often feels she's not getting as much as she is giving—even if she is. She has trouble accepting that her partner works differently than she does, therefore bringing different things to the table. She can feel entitled to their time or attention, resorting to manipulation tactics to get her needs met. 

Leo Venus: If a Leo Venus gets in a relationship with you, it’s likely because there is something in you that few people possess; it can be your status, looks, personality, or dedication to an art. She loves seeing uniqueness in others, and will gladly compliment yours. She's generous to a fault, giving to her loved ones until her energy or resources are exhausted. She gives 100% of herself and expects the same. You cannot half-ass anything with her. Her most evolved version is indeed loyal. However, she's not as loyal as people make her out to be. She often ends up betraying her partner's trust because of the temporary validation it gives her.

Virgo Venus: This is a complex position for Venus. She often flirts with the idea of love without fully committing to it. It's not that she isn't interested in love; it’s just that she has a harder time navigating it. Being in a relationship is a very demanding task. Love can often feel like a distraction to this detrimental Venus who's focused on productivity. She can be absent-minded and forgetful, preoccupied with other matters, making her appear uncaring to sensitive partners. She isn't the most demonstrative with her love, unless the chart is influenced by neighboring signs Leo & Libra. Her affection is mostly shown through her actions and willingness to assist you.

Libra Venus: An immature Libra Venus can struggle with staying faithful to a partner. She craves affirmation and goes to great lengths to obtain it. Her focus on beauty and image can make her fall for a person's looks or status, failing to see the human behind. This tendency may cause others to perceive her as superficial or fake. She often believes she’s better off with someone at her side, which can encourage her to remain in unfulfilling relationships—but this stems from her fear of being alone. Libra’s desire for harmony can lead her to change herself to fit her partner’s fantasy.

Scorpio Venus: Like Taurus Venus, it takes a long time for her to open up. In the sign of her fall, she struggles deeply with trust. She's been through it in love and has decided to remain guarded. Suitors are often tested to prove their loyalty and honesty. But even when their intentions are pure, she remains suspicious, driven by her fear of being hurt. She holds many secrets, revealing them only to those she knows will stay by her side. Do not wrong her, as she can easily become vengeful and cruel. She will go to great lengths to ensure that the person who hurt her suffers as much as she did.

Sagittarius Venus: This one is hard to tie down as she is always on some mission. Like sister sign Gemini, Sagittarius Venus wants to be stimulated and joined in her quest for knowledge. With Sagittarius being ruled by Jupiter—the biggest planet in the Solar system—this Venus needs the space necessary to grow. She cannot be in a relationship where she isn't allowed to come and go as she pleases. Although capable of committing, she cannot be prevented from wandering and exploring. If you’re involved with one, give her the space she needs and be curious about what she's learned on her journey. If you do, she will always come back to tell you. 

Capricorn Venus: This Venus doesn't get involved in short-term flings as she considers them a distraction from her main priority: longevity. When positioned in the most serious sign of the wheel, Venus wants to build— and if someone wants to join her on that journey? That’s even better. However, she won't waste her time on an unserious person who doesn't think for the long term. Indeed, she isn't the most romantic or showy with her affection, but the fact that she picked you to begin with, when she doesn't care much about being with others, proves that she loves you.

Aquarius Venus: This airy Venus can be non-committal and overly protective of her independence. But her fixed quality makes her long for connection. She's unlikely to leave someone she is attached to, unless her need for space and excitement isn't met. A fierce individualist, she struggles to include her partner in plans. She's actually pretty needy. The only thing that differentiates her sister from sign Leo is that she's too proud to admit that she needs someone else’s presence and admiration; however, this doesn't mean she isn't without desire.

Pisces Venus: Pisces Venus struggles to see the reality of a partner or relationship and instead sees them for their potential. She's a dreamer who believes a troubled person or doomed relationship can be saved with love. There is often a point where she realizes she's taken advantage of, and that her partner simply won't change. Her refusal to see the truth leads her to break her own heart. Disillusioned by love, she may decide to give up on it entirely. This watery, compassionate Venus endures heartbreak to gain clarity on what she wants in a partner. When she finally finds the one, boundaries between them often blur to the point that she forgets about herself, only to focus entirely on them. Her lesson resides in knowing that her lover isn’t the only important thing in her life and that their presence shouldn't suppress her identity.

[ckret2]

What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD

(Love him anyways obvs)

I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*

*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**

(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)

His biggest sins in the show:

After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.

Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.

Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.

??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.

He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.

When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.

When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.

When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.

When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.

When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.

When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.

When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.

You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.

Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.

Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.

And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.

He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!

When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.

When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).

He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.

As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.

When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.

And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.

And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.

And then he tries to kill Bill again.

And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.

Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.

But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."

And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.

Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.

[sunschay]

A House of Lies || Natasha Romanoff x Reader

After months of suspicion and distrust while waiting for her, you discover that Natasha is cheating on you with Steve.

Warnings: Angst, cheating, mentions of sex, Nat is a bit manipulative. No use of pronouns for the Reader.

Word count: 2,675 words.

Your nights used to be peaceful a few months ago. You'd have a simple snack, because you weren't always in the mood for a full dinner, take a warm bath to soothe your sore muscles from several heavy training sessions and go to bed with your girlfriend, Natasha. Natasha Romanoff was one of the world's greatest spy assassins. She was everything you could want. Although at first she was cold, distant and closed off – because the Red Room created her precisely to repress emotions and feelings – little by little she let herself be taken in by your clumsy charm, nerdy jokes and her completely attentive and caring manner that made her feel like she had a home. You were her home.

At least, that's what it felt like.

You didn't want to believe that things had cooled down between you and Natasha. But they had.

With the severe pneumonia you'd picked up from a trip to your naturally icy country, Kazakhstan, you couldn't go out as much on missions with the team and had to rest at home for a while. Of course, you grew up and adapted to the radical temperature of your country, but something changed and you just had the bad luck to fall ill.

It happened to the most focused people.

Natasha, on the other hand, made sure that you spent all your time taking your medication and eating well, as well as wearing so many clothes to keep yourself warm that it was suffocating. But she was still going on the "missions" required as soon as the population and the city needed the Avengers.

This didn't seem like a problem at first, because you trusted Natasha blindly.

She was the love of your life. She was even more than that. She was like... the air you breathed, the warmth that lit up your skin when she touched you or simply whispered the sweetest, most loving words into your ear, showing you how much she loved you.

But as I said, things between you and Natasha have cooled down.

As the days and weeks went by, she became more and more distant, although she still checked to see if your medication was finished or if there was dinner for you before she left.

The more difficult or dangerous the missions were supposed to be, the later Natasha got home. She usually arrived after you had gone to sleep, which seemed strange because the Natasha you knew hated spending as much time away from you as possible, she always tried to get back as soon as possible. Now she came through the door with silent steps, as if she were breaking into her own house. Romanoff also arrived with bruises.

You preferred not to listen to your intuition because you thought it was paranoid to think that her bruises and injuries looked more like hickeys and love bites on her body than bruises brought back from missions.

The first thing Natasha did when she got home from the missions was shower. Which wasn't unusual because she had always been a very hygienic person and smelled extremely sweet and pleasant.

But this also continued to disturb your suspicions in some way.

Another strange habit was that Natasha only used telephones in emergencies, especially because you were ill in your current state, but also simply because she wanted to feel as close to you as possible.

Now, Romanoff was glued to her cell phone. She would wake up looking for her phone, go to bed late with her eyes fixed on her phone, take a shower with her phone in the bathroom (literally) and continue to treat her phone as if it were part of her own body.

Sometimes she gave the excuse that she would eat something on the street, usually dismissing the fact that even if you were ill, you could use your efforts to cook for her as soon as she got home. You were beginning to think that Natasha thought you were miserable or that she despised you because her behavior was getting more and more suspicious every day, and distrusting the person you love the most was hurting you deeply.

Night had fallen once again. You hadn't slept for a few days, dark circles under your eyes, your skin very pale and completely chilled by your ill state. Your eyes were fixed on the computer. You didn't want to be the toxic, manipulative partner, but Natasha was giving you too many reasons to distrust her. If she really was the same amazing, honest woman you fell in love with, it wouldn't be a problem for you to have completely cloned her messages, location and data, right?

It's not as if Natasha wouldn't do that for you too, she's always been very possessive of what belongs to her.

Since you were a teenager you had the incredible gift of being able to steal any data and information from any phone and device. Being called a hacker seemed like a compliment, but with each passing year, you got deeper into your technological skills.

So you promised yourself that you would only look at her recent messages to check that everything was all right and, of course, try to calm your paranoia and your anxious heart. While the cloning system was finishing capturing Romanoff's data from her messaging app, you got up, grabbed the soup you had heated in the microwave and took a spoon, placing the blue pot with starry details on the table.

As you warmed up with a few spoonfuls of the salty white bean soup with chicken stock, shredded chicken and a dozen vegetables in between, you didn't want to discover that Natasha was probably lying to you under your nose.

Your Nat? Your kind, gentle, if reserved, but patient and caring Natasha?

No, you just needed to calm down and trust that your suspicions were just paranoia about her job and nothing more.

She would never do anything to break your heart, she loved you.

The faint beep coming from the computer made you wince in your chair, the taste of the delicious soup that was your favorite and that your beloved had left for you to eat quickly turned into a bitter plastic taste. You put the spoon away, quickly slid your fingers over the side of the computer, gripped the mouse tightly and stared at the screen.

At the top of the messages was Steve's contact and very familiar number.

You wouldn't have noticed if it had been a while ago, although you felt extremely jealous of the fact that he was too close to Natasha, always following her everywhere.

But there were his messages. Natasha had left at 7:35 in the evening. Rogers sent her three messages at 7:29, seemingly well ahead of schedule.

There was no message from any other Avenger indicating that Natasha had gone on a mission with the team, giving away the fact that this was already her first lie.

The first message read:

"Natasha, you know I'm completely crazy about you. Let's just go to the motel I told you about in Manhattan and spend the night. I know they're probably too sick to miss you, so we should enjoy it."

The second said:

"I loved the black lingerie you wore that day over the weekend. You were such a hot mess, Nat."

The lingerie he mentioned had been given to Natasha as a little dating present, given to her by none other than you.

The third message read:

"Okay, I'm right here in front of the Complex. Just meet me at the entrance, the car is parked next to it."

Your stomach churned, wanting to spit out all the soup you hadn't even finished eating. It was all true. The whole meaning of the story came out. It wasn't paranoia... your suspicions and mistrust were right. Natasha was cheating on you with her fucking smug face friend. For how long? It didn't matter, not anymore.

She made you look crazy.

The argument a little while ago, caused precisely on that day of the 'black lingerie' whole thing, was because you woke up in the middle of the night to her coming home apparently drunk and smelling of alcohol and trying to make the excuse that she was on a mission. You got angry and upset, saying that she had clearly lied to you and she tried to get around it, saying that you were confusing things and that you were too ill to say anything.

That night you preferred to sleep on your cramped two-seater sofa than in bed with her.

You already knew that. Your heart already knew. And yet you decided to ignore it all.

She cheated on you, she had crushed your heart in the most cruel and deceitful way.

You threw off the blanket around your body, repulsed at the smell of her there, and forced yourself to swallow that soup she had prepared for you, you having always hated wasted food. When you'd finished, you washed the dishes and slowly started to want to freak out, but you left your computer connected to her messages, expecting even more shit while you waited for her to return.

This time you weren't going to sleep. This time you weren't going to ignore your instincts and your alertness.

You were going to confront her. She should hear some nasty things for being such a bitch to you.

You slipped into your warm, comfortable pyjamas and opened your drinks cabinet. You've had problems with alcohol for most of your life, but thanks to years of therapy, talks at addiction groups and Natasha's support, you've managed to overcome all the shit that drinking has caused you. Still, you tried to drink casually, to keep the alcohol on your tongue on specific days.

Now, you needed at least a little alcohol in your blood to try and stand up to your lying girlfriend when she got home.

The clock struck nine forty-eight in the evening. Natasha had finally arrived.

You heard her footsteps on the carpet of your house, and the way she always fumbled to guess the main key from the bunch of keys on the door. Soon, she forced the handle and entered, carrying a small black leather bag that was already familiar to you, and wearing everything but the outfit she wore to go on missions. Natasha was wearing a long black dress, finished just at the thighs and clinging to her body, highlighting every incredible and fascinating curve she had, and high heels.

But no, she deserved anything but your admiration right now.

“Hey, my love, what are you doing up at this hour-” She asked, stopping in her tracks when she saw you with a glass of whisky in your hand, and your computer turned towards the door with Steve's messages on the screen.

“Did you have a good time on the mission with Rogers, Natalia?” You smiled cynically, the tip of your tongue dripping with venom, even though your heart was pounding with pain and disgust for her.

Natasha knew that when you called her by her real name, she had fucked up.

She froze in place, her hair standing on end and a knot quickly forming in her throat. Rogers' messages were there, especially the recent ones where he said he wanted to meet her again next week for another "special mission". She couldn't face your watery eyes or your expression of disappointment and disgust, but she quickly wanted to stand up for herself to try and convince you that she hadn't done anything wrong.

“Y/n. That's not what it looks like.” She swallowed, hearing your dark laugh.

“It's not what it looks like, there's been a mistake here, listen love bla bla bla. Tell me another fucking joke, Romanoff. Admit it. You're fucking Rogers behind my back! While I'm here rotting with sickness and worry for you!” You exclaimed, a solitary tear escaping your eye.

“That's not what's happening, it could never be! He only offered me a ride after the mission and-” She finished the sentence, almost tripping over her own feet.

“He gave you a ride on his popsicle stick. Yes, I see. From your crumpled clothes, your sweaty, red face, your body full of bites and hickeys from months, you'd just as soon come home naked!” You continued to scream, wanting to take all your pain out on her.

You wondered why it hadn't been enough for her. You didn't want to blame yourself, obviously not, but hadn't you given her the attention she wanted? The love and affection she needed? Yes, you had given her everything and more. Why did she have to look for that in Steve? Maybe he was better looking? Because of the pathetic serum that had transformed his genetics into something else. That was ridiculous, you thought.

Natasha remained silent, although her lips parted several times, probably searching for words to try to deny the shit she had done. She wanted to look like the victim, but she was guilty. Even more guilty than Steve himself. She was a liar, manipulative, repulsive and poisonous woman.

“You cheated on me, Natasha. You're a liar. You've cheated on me and slept with him while I was ill, you've lied right under my nose as if I were nothing. You're a lying, selfish bitch.” You cried, trying not to sob, because she didn't even deserve that from you.

“I'm really sorry, my love, this shouldn't have happened. It was a terrible mistake and I have to make it right, please listen to me.” She clung to your right arm.

You pushed her away as quickly as possible, trying not to let her get close to you. You smelled a strong, woody odour on her. The smell of him. You clenched your jaw tightly, unable to hold back the sea of tears.

“You've cloned my phone, how could you do that! Why don't you trust me, Y/n?” she exclaimed, her green eyes glistening with tears.

“You cheat on me and still cry? You still have the gall to ask me why I don't trust you.” You laughed between your tears, feeling your head ache deeply.

“My darling, please.” She pleaded, her hand touching your shoulder and you pushed her away without force.

“Don't touch me. Don't you fucking dare touch me. I want you out, do you hear me? Out of my house. Now, Romanoff.” You ordered, your chest heavy and your breathing starting to become unregulated.

“Forgive me. Please forgive me. I promise to fix this mistake, love.” She begged, still crying as you opened the door and slowly pushed her out.

“I forgive you. Because, after all, forgiveness is necessary sometimes. But I want you away from me, Romanoff. And out of my house. Make the most of your stay with your popsicle man. Now get out of here, have a good night.” You growled, closing the door in her face.

When you closed the door, your world fell apart.

Natasha cheated on you for months, it didn't even take you an hour and a half to find out. She cheated on you with her best friend, who was always picking on her and that made things more obvious. You didn't listen to your intuition and Natasha used that to her advantage.

You felt useless, even more so because you had been sick for so long, but deep down, you knew that you didn't cause this, you just tried so hard for her and gave everything you had to the woman you loved the most only to find out that she had been sleeping with another man for a long time.

You suddenly hated this house, it was still your home, but Natasha turned it into a House of Lies. And she made your world fall apart when she made your home your greatest enemy.

Natasha Romanoff was now your most painful memory, trying to be forgotten in the back of your mind.

[jymwahuwu]

Food for thought, High-cloud Quintet era:

Jing Yuan, Dan Feng and Yingxing helping their innocent Darling (same darling bc its fun!) with "Stamina and Flexibility" training fwhile (and esp when) they have darling assist them in their work after a certain Sword Champion turned their request to be a disciple down for the nth time.

To make it more fun, there is no fixed schedule plan as in order to be a warrior, one must always be prepared to deal with unexpected situations after all:

- Dodging random and unexpected tendrils made of water by a certain high elder to test ones reflexes.

-Maintaining their concentration when meditating whilst being strapped down on a... "concentration training" machine made by a certain blade smith.

-Maintaining concentration and ability to strategize whilst being folded into different poses during a match of star chess with a languid Lieutenant.

For example, whilst also having to assist them while they work. They are busy people, you can't expect them to take time off their schedule to dedicate it to training you alone, would you?

-one of the peeps who hunts the comments section

This is so delicious, I immediately thought of what that would be like… 😌🫶

-CW: yandere, abuse of trust, overstimulation, sex machine

You are so naive and innocent... You are all focused on how to improve your strength and contribution, and you don't realize that there is something wrong with their "training"…

Dan Feng:

Imbibitor Lunae has the ability to manipulate water, weave rain and dew, create storms, and even split seawater, so training with water is really something you can expect. You just didn't expect…High Elder's training to be so…random. From HSR's description, we can know that Vidyadhara possesses a technology called cloudhymn magic, which can make them almost completely invisible and appear quietly around people. So… you were attacked completely randomly.

The water occasionally sprays onto your underwear, wetly revealing the shape of your sexual organs inside. You squirmed uncomfortably and closed your legs to avoid others noticing that water was dripping between your legs for no reason… You didn't want to be thought of as a weirdo who was in heat anytime and anywhere…

Dan Feng didn't even come to you on purpose. He showed no emotion when he did this. The High Elder sometimes wiggles his fingertips a little and your underwear is soaked, and then he goes to have lunch and deal with the daily affairs of Vidyadhara. Sometimes, your chest will also get wet, causing two puddles of water on the clothes on your chest. It's so embarrassing! You have to cross your arms over your chest to cover it up and then go change.

But…the "training" that requires taking off clothes is different. Dan Feng asks you to remain still. For an hour continuously, the warm water sprays on your private parts, the effect is like masturbation in the shower… You have to resist moving. This is a challenge of endurance and willpower…

Yingxing:

This talented weapon forger has gained a good reputation most of the time… Many people have commented that he is arrogant, but Yingxing does have the qualifications of "arrogance".

You trust Yingxing. He is so sweet and builds those weapons for you for free. He put decorations on the weapons he gave you and engraved them with beautiful patterns that suit you.

So… Even though Yingxing gave you that weird "concentration training" machine, you accepted it. That machine is automated…or it operates according to the program created by Yingxing, with more than ten modes.

In the normal mode, you only need to sit on the dildo of the machine (what Yingxing did not tell you is that the shape of the dildo is according to his…), and be penetrated deeply and trembled at the frequency of thrusting. This machine always seeks out your sensitive spots and stimulates them long-lasting and thoroughly. In full mode, your hands and legs are immobilized, and your nipples are caressed and rubbed for constant overstimulation.

Yingxing asks for your feedback and improves the machine. Maybe you should consider some suggestions…

Jing Yuan:

Jing Yuan coaxes you - this is about concentration and strategic skills training. If you can't strategize without interruption, you will suffer defeat in combat. He's just doing it for your own good. This…sounds reasonable?

At least once a day, you have to play chess with Jing Yuan, but the distraction is that you have to sit on his cock and fiddle with the chess pieces. He unbuttoned his pants and took out his fat cock, which was erect. He held his chin, narrowed his eyes and smiled, urging you to sit up. It took you a lot of courage to sit on it for the first time, and the unfamiliar cock almost split you open. So…thick and long. You moaned softly with every inch he thrust in, and his thumb rubbed your private parts to help lubricate you. Sitting completely on it is a terrifying experience. Pleasure bewilders and corrupts your brain…

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan meant by "training"? About whether you can focus on strategizing.

Of course you are… unable to focus. It collapsed in a few steps. Your fingertips tremble as you place the chess pieces. The brain cannot think about the next strategy and route…

After a few months, you get better at it, a little bit, but every time you get close to reaching "victory," you're screaming and bouncing on the general's cock, missing the chance of "victory" in orgasm...

[thezombieprostitute]

Royal Arrangements

Summary: Prince Rogers, heir to the throne, knows any marriage he enters into will be political. But maybe, just maybe, it could also be a happy marriage?

Warnings: Sexism (Patriarchal society). Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

"Are you ready for the gala?" Bucky asks Steve as he fixes his bow tie.

"Never have been, never will be," Steve sighs as he shakes his head.

"Yeah, you've never been one for all the attention."

"It's not just that. I'm tired of disappointing so many people."

"All the ladies?" Sam asks, eyebrow raised. "The ones that are trying every angle to get you into bed?"

"They seem to think I have a say in who I get married to." Steve's shoulders droop. "They're all so...optimistic."

"More like opportunistic," Bucky snorts.

"Given how many of them come after us after Steve turns 'em down, I gotta agree with Bucky on this one," Sam nods. "They can't get the crown prince so they go for his buddies."

"Well excuse me for wanting to think positively about people," Steve smirks. "It's hard not to with friends like you."

"Aww," Sam coos. "Isn't he just so sweet, Bucky?"

"Too sweet for his own good, Sam."

"Good thing he's got friends like us to protect him from the worst manipulators."

"Absolutely agree," Bucky nods.

"Okay, okay, can you stop talking like I'm not here?" Steve chuckles.

"No," the other men say in unison.

Another gala in another kingdom. Several hours of fake smiles and pretending to be dumb so as not scare away potential suitors. At least when you were an only child you didn't have travel so much to listen to inane conversation, you could remain home in Carga. Only after your half brother was born did you go from being sole heir who would have to marry a local noble to a pawn for the linking of kingdoms.

Different goals but same requirements, really. Wear the super heavy dress laden with gems and metals to show off Carga's wealth. Smile. Look pretty. Move perfectly and never say what you really want to. It made you jealous of the woman who got to tell off one of King Rogers' cousins for his bad behavior. Though you did appreciate that the King's son almost immediately told off said cousin for being the rude one. You doubt you'll see the cousin any more tonight. Probably for the best, though his fan-girls would say otherwise.

You've yet to actually be introduced to Prince Rogers of Bellin. You're certain your father would have words about that but hopefully telling him you'd been talking with other princes would help. Certainly Prince Fowler of Hoviriand seemed nice enough. As did Princes Wilson and Barnes. Hopefully your father wouldn't be too upset. You were still "doing your duty."

You hear your name called and turn to see Prince Wilson of Númetir smiling at you. "Please allow me to make the formal introductions?"

"I would greatly appreciate that, your majesty."

He gestures to Prince Rogers who is quick to heed his friend. Prince Wilson formally introduces you to Prince Rogers and you give your best curtsy. He bows slightly, just enough to be polite. You're certain he's as tired of the pageantry as you but you don't dare indicate it so openly as he has. You smile politely and nod along as the princes talk, only commenting when asked for.

Admittedly, either man would be a wonderful match for you. They both have handsome faces and charming smiles. They're both princes from powerful kingdoms. From your peripheral you can see the glares of the other women, clearly upset that you're taking the attention of two prospects.

They shouldn't worry, though. It's clear from Prince Rogers' body language that he has no interest in you. And the fact that Prince Wilson introduced you indicates he's not interested either. Perhaps they'll consider putting in a good word with Prince Barnes of Cidaur. He's a second son, sure, but still of royal pedigree that your father would tolerate.

After the gala, Steve and his father talk about the prospective matches. He knows the likelihood of a happy marriage is slim. So far only King Harald Finehair, of the northern kingdom Rhordorn, has seemed to have been fortunate enough to find real love with his Queen. But he still holds onto hope that his future wife won't make his life worse.

"I know you don't care for these kinds of events," King Rogers starts. "There was certainly a time I'd agree with you. But there's a very important reason for them." Steve slightly tilts his head in interest. "I want to make sure you don't end up married to someone who makes you miserable."

Steve's mouth goes slightly slack in surprise while his eyes widen. It's not that his father has ever been unkind to his sons, no. It's that his father was considering his son's happiness on a level almost equal to the well-being of the kingdom.

"It isn't often I have the opportunity to grant my sons a happiness that doesn't hurt the kingdom. Truly, Ari's abdication was the only time the two priorities were ever aligned," King Rogers chuckles. "Each kingdom presented offers, of course. But your reactions helped me decide to whom I should actually pay attention. Well, yours and your friends. Sam and James don't know I watch them, too. Do you recall the Princess of Carga? Sam introduced you?"

"Yes," Steve nods. "She seems nice enough."

King Rogers smiles softly. "Nice enough. Her father's kingdom will be a good ally, many nations would, and have, killed for their mines full of precious metals."

"Access means cheaper metals which means improved quality of life for the people."

"Exactly. And as the young lady didn't seem to scare you off, kept your company longer than any other, and was approved by Sam, I think it'll be a good match."

"Yes, Father," Steve nods.

"What is your honest opinion, Steven?"

Steve takes a breath. "She seems dull. Not unpleasant, not stupid just...I couldn't tell you anything about what she believes, what she's studied, nothing. But, as you said, she wasn't miserable to be around. And that counts for something."

King Rogers smirks, "just remember, Steven, a woman's education about courtly behaviors are very different from those of a man's. But I trust you to be open, receptive, and most importantly, patient with her."

"Yes, Father."

"I'll send the notice to her father tonight to begin negotiating the finer details. By this time next week you should be officially engaged."

"Yes, Father."

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @citronbun; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63; @unclearblur; @zanydruid1985;

[cece693]

My Safe Place (Finnick Odair x M! Reader)

Going back to my Hunger Games phase and not enough fics for male/gender neutral readers can be found for him. So, I aim to fix it :) Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Finnick was known for his conquests whenever he traveled to the Capital, however, you were his main client—a man who didn't exactly act like the rest of the Capital society.

tags: mention of sex working, Finnick deserves better, reader is a safe place for him, President Snow being a dick, reader is different, Annie (unfortunately) is dead

The arrangement between you and Finnick was dangerous, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was giving him some semblance of safety, a fleeting escape from the nightmare President Snow had trapped him in. You never liked interacting with people, much less in the manner Finnick’s arrangement with the Capitol required. But when the murmurs began—stories of the young victor's so-called "conquests" echoing in the opulent halls—you couldn’t ignore the tug in your chest.

You weren’t foolish. You knew how Snow operated. Finnick’s dazzling smile was just another weapon in the Capitol's arsenal, a weapon honed through coercion and manipulation. Then you overheard a conversation at a party: a woman bragging about "paying" to spend time with him. Her words were dripping with self-satisfaction, as though exploiting someone so clearly tormented was a badge of honor. It made your stomach churn.

It was easy to connect the dots. Too easy.

The first time you reached out to Finnick, it had been awkward. Not for him—he was all smooth confidence, his charm slipping into place like a second skin. But you? You couldn’t keep still, looking around the suite for cameras or hidden microphones. You didn’t trust the Capitol, and Finnick was bound to be under constant surveillance, his every move scrutinized.

Sensing your nervousness, Finnick took control of the situation, his practiced mask of seduction sliding into place. He began unbuttoning his shirt, moving toward you with a deliberate air. After all, wasn’t this why you’d invited him here? Another Capitol indulgence, another client eager to own a piece of him.

“No!” Your voice cut through the tension as you stepped back, your hand flying up to stop him. The disgust on your face was immediate and unfiltered.

Finnick froze, his hands mid-motion, and for a moment, genuine confusion flickered across his face. “Then what do you want?” he asked, clutching the throw you’d hastily handed him.

It had taken everything in you to hold his gaze. "A safe place. For you. No strings attached."

For a long, tense moment, Finnick didn’t respond. He studied you, his sea-green eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to find the trap in your words. Then, to your surprise, he laughed—a bitter, hollow sound that didn’t suit him at all.

"Safe places don’t exist in the Capitol."

"Maybe not," you admitted. "But I can try."

From then on, it became a routine. You’d send the payment—an obscene amount, just enough to satisfy the Capitol’s watchful eye—and Finnick would arrive at your apartment late at night. He always used the private entrance to avoid prying eyes. At first, neither of you talked much. Finnick would sit stiffly on the edge of your luxurious couch, his shoulders tense, his hands fidgeting with the sea-green pendant around his neck.

You ignored his discomfort, going about your nightly routine as though he wasn’t there. You’d clean the dishes left on the counter, read a book with a steaming cup of tea, or sometimes sit at your piano and let your fingers wander across the keys. You never pressed him to talk, never demanded his attention. You simply let him exist in the quiet safety of your home.

When the time was up, Finnick would stand, his expression often a mix of confusion and gratitude, before slipping out the same way he came.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Months into the arrangement, Finnick began to open up. At first, he stuck to safe topics: the ocean breeze in District 4, the salty tang of the air, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocky shore. His words painted a vivid picture of home, a place you could tell he missed deeply.

You didn’t press him for more, content to let him share whatever pieces of himself he felt comfortable giving. But then, one evening, as you were reading, Finnick spoke a name that hung heavy in the air. “Annie.” The sound of her name made him freeze for a moment, as though he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. You looked up from your book, startled by the weight in his tone but careful not to push. You simply set the book down and waited.

Finnick’s gaze fell to the pendant he always wore, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of the shell. “She was my first love,” he said quietly. “She was different from everyone else. Quiet, kind, but strong in a way most people didn’t see. She didn’t care about the Games or the Capitol. She only cared about people.”

The smile faded from his lips, replaced by a shadow of grief. “But Snow couldn’t allow that, could he? He couldn’t let me have something that made me resist.”

Finnick’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the pendant, his entire frame trembling with suppressed rage and sorrow. “He killed her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t painless. He made sure I knew every detail, made sure I understood that her death was my fault."

You watched as his grief and anger boiled over. With a sharp, guttural sound of frustration, Finnick stood abruptly, grabbing a vase from a nearby table. Without hesitation, he flung it at the wall, the porcelain shattering into a million jagged pieces. The crash echoed through the room, but you didn’t flinch.

Finnick’s chest heaved as he stood there amidst the broken shards, his tear-streaked face turned toward you. The raw vulnerability in his sea-green eyes was almost too much to bear. His lip quivered as though he was fighting a battle within himself, one final attempt to keep the walls he’d built intact.

But then, those walls crumbled.

Without warning, Finnick took a shaky step forward and collapsed to his knees before you. His head fell into your lap, his arms wrapping loosely around your legs as though anchoring himself to something—anything—real. The dam inside him burst, and his sobs came in great, shuddering waves, his entire body trembling with the force of his anguish.

You froze for a moment, startled by the intensity of his collapse, but quickly recovered. Gently, you rested a hand on his head, your fingers threading through his golden tousled hair in slow, soothing motions. Your other hand settled lightly on his back, offering a steady, grounding presence.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. “Let it out, Finnick. You’re safe here.”

His sobs grew louder, his pain pouring out in every ragged breath, every muffled cry against your knees. His tears soaked through the fabric of your pants, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being there for him, letting him release the emotions he’d kept locked away for so long.

“I couldn’t save her,” he choked out, his voice muffled against you. “I couldn’t…I wasn’t enough.”

“Finnick, stop,” you said gently, your voice breaking with emotion. “You were enough. You loved her, and that was more than enough. What happened to Annie wasn’t your fault. Snow…Snow took her because he’s a monster, not because of anything you did.”

He didn’t respond, but his grip on your legs tightened, his trembling body pressing closer against you. You continued to stroke his hair, murmuring soft reassurances, letting him pour his heart out in the safety of your presence. As the minutes passed, his sobs began to subside, the storm of emotions giving way to quiet, exhausted tears. His breathing slowed, though his face remained buried against your knees, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, the words barely audible, yet they carried the weight of his gratitude and trust.

From that moment, something fragile yet beautiful began to bloom between you. Finnick grew comfortable in your space, his presence no longer guarded or wary. He started accepting small gestures of care—a cup of tea, a plate of fresh fruit—with a smile that wasn’t the polished charm he wore in public, but something tender and genuine.

His smiles were rare but transformative, softening his features in a way that felt almost sacred. It wasn’t the grin of a Capitol heartthrob or a victor playing his part. It was Finnick. The real Finnick. And it was in those moments you saw him as the man he was, not the mask he was forced to wear.

Finnick’s feelings for you deepened with every visit. At first, it was subtle: the way his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, the way his laughter grew warmer and more frequent when you were around. But over time, it became undeniable.

He found excuses to stay longer, to ask you questions about yourself—your favorite books, your childhood memories, your thoughts on the world beyond the Capitol. His curiosity was genuine, his attention focused solely on you, as though you were the one piece of sanity in his life.

And you noticed. Of course, you noticed. You weren’t blind to the way his gaze softened when it met yours, the way his voice grew quieter when he spoke your name. You weren’t stupid—you knew what it meant.

But you didn’t give in.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel the same way. You did. Finnick had become more than a presence in your life; he had become someone you cared about deeply, someone you wanted to protect, someone whose laughter felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. But you didn’t want him to think that was all you were after. You didn’t want him to believe, even for a moment, that your care for him was tied to his charm or his body or any of the things the Capitol exploited. Finnick deserved better than that.

So you kept your distance, at least emotionally. You treated him as you always had—with quiet kindness and unwavering respect. Even as your heart ached to reach out, to tell him how much he mattered to you, you held back. Because Finnick’s worth was so much more than he realized, and you refused to let him think otherwise.

And then the 75th Hunger Games was announced.

The moment the words left President Snow’s lips—this year, the tributes shall be reaped from the existing pool of victors—you felt your chest tighten. You knew what it meant. Finnick would be going back into the arena.

When his name was called at the reaping, you watched from your apartment, your hands trembling as you gripped the armrest of your chair. Finnick’s face was calm, but you knew the storm that raged beneath the surface. You knew him too well to be fooled by the mask.

Days later, during the interviews, you sat in the same chair, your eyes glued to the television. The Capitol was abuzz with excitement, the crowd roaring with approval as Caesar Flickerman welcomed the victors one by one. And then it was Finnick’s turn. He stepped onto the stage, his signature charm firmly in place. The audience adored him, their cheers deafening as he waved and smiled. But when Caesar asked him the question that had been on everyone’s lips—is there someone special he's fighting for?—something shifted.

Finnick’s expression softened, the mask slipping just enough to reveal the man beneath. “There is,” he said simply, his voice steady but filled with emotion. The crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs, looking at each other as if he was speaking about one of them, but Finnick ignored them. "And I would like to tell them something, if you don't mind."

Caesar, ever the showman, gestured grandly for him to proceed but not before hushing the crowd.

"Though I cannot promise forever, Though the storms still rage around me, I leave my heart to you, And hope you’ll remember me kindly."

No one else knew who the poem was for. But you did.

And in that moment, it was both everything and not nearly enough.

[phoenixyfriend]

Tony Stark & Natasha Romanova, now in Star Wars

IDK if you folks were ever MEGA into crossovers but did you ever engage with the kind that can more or less be summarized as "isekai but the person 'hit by truck-kun' is a character from a different canon?"

Because that's what this is.

Tony Stark isekai'd into Star Wars (random planet) after dying in Endgame. He knows the movies, but not the supplemental material, as even by the time TPM came out, he was thirty and fucked up and making a name for himself in war. Bad times.

Tony wakes up sixteen and with Nothing to his name but his skills. He does not speak the language. Mostly gets by doing shit like skinning potatoes for a kitchen and pulling weeds and whatnot while he catches up on Basic. (He is apparently fluent, or at least conversational, in French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Dari. So Basic would be his Seventh language, and while four of those can be lumped into 'if you learn one, the next will be easier,' Dari is wildly unrelated, so I'd say he could pick up Basic a bit faster than average, especially with 16yo brain elasticity.)

A toddler, two years old with intensely red hair, runs into his shins one day and yells his name very clearly. He looks down, is a little confused, and then a nearby carer from an orphanage jogs up yelling "Nat!" The toddler is Natasha Romanoff. She remembers everything, including dying, but is about twenty-five pounds soaking wet and NOBODY will take her seriously.

It takes some… effort, to explain the situation to the carer. Yes, Tony knows Nat. He worked with uh…. her 'older brother, a man named Clint.' Tony does not currently have the resources for anyone to legally give him custody of a toddler but he's got some motivation to secure housing and a stable income.

He does that. Gets Natasha with him because of course he has to do that. It's the one person he knows. It's Nat.

Turns out she's Force Sensitive, though. A 'natural extension' of her more skillgrinding abilities to read/manipulate people. Tony is not Force Sensitive but he DID recently have a medical episode that took him to a thankfully-government-funded clinic that informed him he has a Bad Heart and will require a pacemaker despite being seventeen.

A Jedi finds Nat while passing through and they Discuss Their Options. This is when Nat is about four. There is a heavy discussion about how her mind is older than her body, so the Jedi would need to be ready for that, but also Tony needs to discuss this with Nat, who was like thirty-nine(?) when she died and thus more than capable of making her own decisions.

Despite fandom generally painting Tony as the most selfish of the Avengers and Natasha as the most coldly practical, they are still heroes who put in some Fucking Effort to become better people, and they come to the conclusion that Natasha would do much more to help this galaxy as a Jedi than as some kid in poverty on a no-name planet. So off she goes!

She's like five years younger than Obi-Wan, the story reveals.

Tony is a bit aimless and the work he's BEEN doing (probably laying down electrical lines or something at this point, IDK, he got into construction or something) gets sideswept by Damage To A Tool. He knows how to fix the tool, but he does not have a forge.

There is a forge in town. He goes to it and says that he can't afford to ask to have it fixed, but he knows how to do it himself, so could he borrow access for a small fee?

This is a Mandalorian armorer. They say no. In fact, they tell him, that would be significantly more expensive than just getting it fixed.

Buuuuuuuuuut for Reasons, the armorer decides that Tony (now 18-19 physically) can do it so long as the Armorer supervises. Tony is competent Enough that the Armorer gives him a datapad and tells him to read it and come back in a week to discuss the topic. Tony warns that Basic is far from his first language and he doesn't have a whole lot of free time, so he probably won't have read it by then. That's fine, they'll just discuss what he has read.

It's about Mando culture, in a mildly propaganda-y way, and Tony comes back to Argue About Religion more than anything. He thinks the Armorer is proselytizing, which they kind of are, but they are also more than happy to discuss the lines between the Mando culture as ethnicity and culture and religion and so on.

This becomes a regular occurence. Tony has made A Friend who has started offering him a side gig doing Basic Village Blacksmith Work that the Armorer deems too menial, like "horse"shoes.

Tony is offered an apprenticeship that he did not expect, on the condition of Becoming Mandalorian.

This is. A heavy decision.

However. Tony is a guy who is at least partly defined by his cool armor. Mandalorians are defined by their cool armor. He has been told, several times, that there are multiple ways to be a Mandalorian. So he accepts, because he decides it's worth for the chance to be somebody who can make a difference in a way he currently can't.

Ten years later, 'Initiate Romanova' goes up to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they prepare to leave, and neatly informs them that she has a feeling they are going to have a Bad Time on their mission in Mandalore, and that if they need emergency shelter from enemies, to go to an Armorer by the name of Tony Stark, because that's her brother so she knows that he's going to be friendly to Jedi. (Tony has sent her a small handful of messages, through channels both official and not, about big life events.)

Of course, shit hits the fan and the two plus Satine end up finding Tony's forge and he hides them in his Underground Bunker, which actually has a tunnel to a cave system that is safer than the bunker itself. Because reasons. (IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.)

He has helper droids! They are named indirectly after friends from the Past Life, things like Spangles.

On their way back after the mission they swing by to say hi and he asks them to bring something to Natasha and it's a matryoshka doll set he made based on the Avengers (it goes based on age so the outermost is Thor, followed by I think Bruce, Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision), as well as a plushie he had custom made by somebody in town of a Bird With Archery Gear, even though she's too old for that stuff.

Even among the Jedi, Natasha is WEIRD and SERIOUS and everyone's pretty damn sure she's going to be a Shadow, or at least do a HECK of a lot of undercover work.

IDK how this plays out but Tony is definitely keeping an eye on politics so he can figure out the Palpatine rise to power and remind Natasha in case she's forgotten because when they first split they didn't, either of them, know what to expect in regards to her memory given the whole Baby Brain issue.

"Why is Tony an Armorer"

Okay some more thoughts!

I think Tony's aggressively atheist and consistently watching whoever claims to be Mand'alor with a critical eye in case he has to step in, and does not take any references to ka'ra with any real seriousness. That said. He's an Armorer now. A weird one who refuses like half his clients for Ethics Reasons, but technically a cultural authority figure who's allowed to argue with the Mand’alor.

@penpalpixie:

fsr the initial meeting scenario with the armorer bugs me,like would they really just let him" but tbf Tony knows how to steamroll people and could probably dissect the forge in an instant.

Which, yeah, in my defense, I put this together in about two hours so some of it's a bit wonk? BUT. @threebea had a good suggestion for how/why the Armorer had Tony actually do things in the forge instead of telling him to scram:

Maybe Tony has been doing some 'crafting' on the side maybe droid repairs or modifications which is how the Armorer first sort of hears about him and then one day there's the kid that people have been mentioning the Stars aligned here's a pamphlet. He can't make a living off gizmos in his situation since most of what Star wars has is advanced tech and to do anything impressive he would need more resources and more of an understanding of the mathematics of this universe (Stares at ceiling one night trying to figure out if the law of relativity would be a thing here). That might slow him down just like… his math doesn't actually work here so on top of language he would have to learn things to do complicated stuff that he could already buy for a credit. But with armory it's concepts he knows well and adding weapons to armor especially no lethal ones is something he also knows. Mandalorian armor with UNI BEAM

When it comes to canon, he knows THE big thing (Palpatine is Sidious) and basically nothing else. He thinks he remembers the clones being Mando? but he's honestly not even sure he remembers the original Fett's first name correctly. He knows the guy is a Fett, because Boba was a cultural mainstay for Tony's childhood, so like, it was nice to have some backstory, but he's honestly not sure how likely "that baby Mand'alor that went missing" is to being Boba's plot-relevant dad. Could be an uncle for all he knows, or just a guy with the same last name.

@firebirdeternal:

I feel like to keep things fair Tony should be able to scale up a little harder than the average Mandalorian. Yeah all his tech knowledge is a bit out-dated and he isn't likely to get an arc reactor running in a way that'll be more powerful than anything locally available, but I feel like he'd adapt pretty darn quickly to available tech and start Improving Things Nat's skills all translate extremely well, once she's not got stumpy toddler body she's basically back to her old level PLUS telekinesis and wibbly force nonsense although I understand if that's also not the focus of the fic, being less "And now there's some Avengers Here (Powerset)" and more "And now there's some Avengers Here (Attitudes and Characters)"

Nat is very excited to Break Into Tony's Cave.

NGL this was initially going to be a Tony Raises Nat thing but I couldn't ultimately justify her NOT going the Jedi route after I realized I wanted her to be Sensitive.

There was also a discarded plot idea about her being a little older and having gone undercover in death watch, because Tony got kidnapped to work for them and got through to her, where she gets to use her Bites as a teen but I scrapped it.

I do think she successfully argues to her Master to visit him at 14 to get light armor though.

Nat's the sneakiest little initiate and also. Very, very controlled in the scary way during spars.

Bea:

Natasha as a Jedi is so good. Like, she would probably have a bit of dissonance between Jedi training and the training she received as a child, and it might help her work through some things. Nat: I've known Yoda for three days but if anything happened to him I would kil-- wait uh (pivots) I would be very sad. She would try to sneak up on council members. It is like a kitten stalking a cat on the outside, but also she's a grown woman and wants to be that good. (AU of this If Quinlan ever saw this he'd adopt her: Quinlan: Tholme I found a new padawan sister. Get training Tholme: [literally just finished with Quinlan. Had planned to take a vacation. Meditate. Drink. He loves his kid but needs literally a moment here] Tholme: She's seven. Quinlan: I was four. Tholme: … Quinlan: She has a secret tragic background toooo I know you like that 😄 Tholme: [Sigh] Nat: …wait is he supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. I think he's space Sherlock Holmes. Need to ask Tony if Star Wars had Sherlock Holmes? lol yeah Tholme just feels like he could blend well with an avengers story, and a Black Widow story in particular)

Not joking when I say I considered if I could squeeze Tholme into the timeline.

Tony sends her music files that he thinks sounds Particularly Ballet to her because he remembers how much she liked dancing, as the main or even only positive thing from her Red Room training, and how she once said that if she hadn't become a spy, she thinks she'd have liked to be a ballerina.

The first time they see each other in person in years is her visiting for baby armor at 14 and is hesitant to hug him because like. Yeah he's her "brother" and there were a few years where they were acting as such and he was helping her with Basic Tasks that she doesn't like to think about too much because it's embarrassing, and they cuddled THEN, because she was Physically Baby, but they're just coworkers in reality, right? Should she hug him? If only to sell the bit to her Jedi Master?

Tony is also not the most huggy person and isn't sure if HE should hug Nat because he remembers jokey stabbing threats from when they were Avengers and like. Does she still feel that way, now that she's not a bumbling like tot?

They are both unsure of if hugging is on the table and it's the Jedi Master who says "you know, you're allowed to hug, if you want" under the impression that they aren't sure if the Jedi would allow it. And then the hug is very tight and loving because at least subconsciously they DID both want that.

The Jedi Master takes a pic.

Bea:

Jedi master: (aw) It's one of those "we've been in life or death situations together and also grew up together kinda sorta and also we're trauma bonded," and the first opportunity to solidify Family as their dynamic they both jump in feet first. And both of them were like. Extremely lonely children probably. In different ways but still.

(It's why the Hawkeye plushie didn't make her CRY, per se, but she does start keeping it in her bed even though she's Too Old for these things.)

When it comes to hugging, Nat is understandably concerned about overstepping and like. "Taking" Morgan's place. (I'm going with Tony and Nat being friends (or at least friendly) from A1 to A2, and during the blip she stopped by for dinner once in a while. Nat doing her best to bring Child Appropriate Gifts for Morgan (she misses being Aunt Nat for the Barton kids).) Or as Bea put it: Tony: Are you spying on me or are we doing people things? Nat: Can't it be both?

Anyway, their dynamic is a weird little midpoint once they're in Star Wars but then they get to a point in the armor making where Tony takes a break on a bench and she slips in under his arm to cuddle and it's just Nice (even though he's kinda sweaty and gross from the blacksmithing).

Bea:

Tony: ….. so……. is Yoda… does he look like… is he…. Nat: …???? Tony: You saw the Muppets right? Is he still a Muppet? Nat: [totally has seen the Muppets] what's a Muppet? Tony: You're killing your brother, Nat ;A;

Also the comedy of having MULTIPLE "secret languages" that nobody can translate.

It's handy, too. Between her and Tony, but also lots of languages to give different uses to. Can teach one to a specific faction for communication. OH, the poor Threepio units! She got stuck in a room with one once, and don't get my wrong, they can pick up a language fast, but they need to hear long enough sampling of it. Nat: I'm not teaching you stop asking I do agree too that Tony and Nat no matter their circumstances would be working towards stopping Palpatine. Like is this a real space is this a dream is this another dimension that just happens to be like a movie in ours? Doesn't matter the dictator is going down.

The Jedi Master is somewhat aware of the whole 'used to be an adult, sort of' thing. I don't know that they believe she's linearly matured but probably they think it's something like what I did in Jedi Babies It's definitely more explicit with a mind healer she got assigned soon after arrival.

She didn't decide whether to play it straight and "get help" or just try to game the system until she was actually sitting down. But she'd been having screaming night terrors about things she experienced in her first life, so.

Pixie:

She meets Anakin after TPM (if it's not avoided) when Obi-Wan's trying to settle him in and goes "ah, I know how to handle this kid." At some point Anakin and Tony end up sending each other various schematics.

[theealbatross]

love is the most twisted curse of all (shadow trio headcannon)

Plot | How the Shadow Trio expresses their love and the price they willingly pay for it.

Tags: |dark-ish, unhealthy friendships/relationships, platonic (or not depends on your interpretation), codependency, manipulation, aged up, implied crimes, implied murder, slytherins can't love normally, implied seb x mc if u squint, traumatized!slytherins can't accept healthy love, seb and mc are dark wizards, auror!sebastian, my opinion only, might be ooc

[A/N: Photos (except two) are not mine! This is something short I wrote because i can't get it out of my head lol]

Ominis Gaunt: The Heir

. Ominis loves by doing what is necessary.

. A perfect Slytherin through and through, Ominis (whether he is aware or not) lives the closest truth to the Slytherin motto. Anything that is 'his' is protected at any and all cost.

. There is no heaven high enough he won't reach or a hell low enough that he won't crawl in if it meant saving the people dearest to him.

. Like the perfect slytherin heir Ominis is akin to a snake, his morality slithering and bending to fit his narrative. His bones creak, skin stretching as he wraps himself around his loved ones until they are untouchable.

. He is aware of his flaws but he is not so honorable to fix it. He knows the real world -- the darker side of the wizarding world's high society, one that his companions aren't too familiar with -- and he will move hell and high water to protect them from it in the shadows.

. Dark Spells being used a bit too closely in where Sebastian is stationed? It must be those damned dark wizards, Minister. Isn't Auror Sallow so gallant in facing those pests?

. Poacher corpses leading a trail to you? Surely, such stains of the wizarding world wouldn't be missed. The Hero of Hogwarts did us all a favor, it would be a shame to condemn such heroics.

. Suspicious rumors following his friends? Not while he was at the top of high society, manipulating reputations and snuffing out nonbelievers. Any tongue that rises against them will be cut.

. He is a Gaunt, and as much as he loathes the dark history behind his name -- he knows how to wield its power. He is the only one who can properly wield it and it is a sword he is willing to use -- if necessary.

Sebastian Sallow: The Prodigy

. Sebastian loves by monopolizing.

. As a boy who lost too much at such a young age, his entire world surrounds the few people he considers his own. And if you are one of his people know his whole world will surround you.

. He has to have access and knowledge of his loved ones at all times. In-depth, illegal, background checks on all people his pretty witch associates herself with? Fair game, it's for your safety, darling. Charmed pieces of jewelry that lets him know of your location at all times? Christmas and birthday gifts from him to you, wear it at all times or he'll charm it so it never gets removed. A ring that will transport Ominis to his side at the first sign of danger? Ominis you are far too important a person to put your life on mere Aurors hands, I'll handle it.

. Normal people would be put off but after all the things the three of you have been through, putting your lives and safety in Sebastian's hands is the best course of action. It is for your own good, after all.

. Sebastian is fully aware he has unfortunately been cursed with having brilliant friends with bounties in their heads in the underworld. Therefore, the best course of action would be the one to rule it.

. Living a double life as the honorable Head Auror and a dark wizard was not for the weak but Sebastian has always been used to compartmentalizing different faces for different facets of his life. A brilliant student, a delinquent, a doting brother, a traitor, a partner in crime, a merciless murderer. He'll wear any and all masks and become the monster he is required to be if it meant he got to keep you.

. Sebastian doesn't have a lot of people he loves so he will not ask for forgiveness in how he protects those that is willing to be loved by him. They're his -- his to love, his to protect, his to consume.

. And he'll let all the curses and corpses pile up into a mountain of sins before he'll lose anyone ever again.

MC: The Hero

. She loves through devotion.

. Once you consider them as a friend they can do no wrong in your eyes and if they do commit mistakes you will dig the deepest pit to bury it in with your own bare hands.

. Being told you were special, you were different, you were powerful at a very early age fractured your reality. The world is your oyster, it will be whatever you deem it to become.

. For what is power if you can't even help those you love the most?

. Do you want me to take care of 'it', Omi? You know I hate it when you strain yourself with politics. Someone tried to take Sebastian to court for excessive violence? Who is it? Are you going to handle it or should I? Why can't they just let him be?

. You will follow them blindly at whatever corner of the earth they are calling from. Anything that has to do with them is a priority of the highest order as far as you are concerned-- so much so that people have to go to Ominis and Sebastian first to convince them to convince you to help.

.There is no such thing as a good or bad anymore -- you will stand on whatever side they are on, and the rest of the world can decide if they want to stand with you or against you.

. There will be no such thing as a consequence if you had anything to say about it. And you had the final say about everything.

. All will always be well for you and everyone you love. You will make sure of it.

.You are special, after all.

[shini--chan]

Yandere Character Sheet II - 1p England / Arthur Kirkland

My depiction of Arthur here is harsh. I'll freely admit that it is due to a bias I have against the British due growing up in one of the Empire's late colonies and family history. Blazes, some of my relatives refuse to speak English because they regard it as "the language of the Antichrist".

Trigger warnings: colonialism, controlling behaviour, manipulation, mental break, trauma, physical torture, emotional/verbal abuse, victim blaming

Blend in - Are the red flags obvious? Are they even aware that their behaviour is wrong? Do they even care? 

Arthur is generally a cantankerous, cynical and proud man, so it would be more difficult to tell which of his actions are relationship red flags as opposed to personality red flags. Of course, this is also a gross oversimplification of the situation since he is complicated. When he wants to be, he can be genuinely kind, polite and caring. It is simply that the closer you are to him emotionally, the higher his expectations are of you. With you being the apple of his eye, you'd have the honour of finding out that being the subject of his affections is worse than having to bear his apathy or even ire. 

One of the reasons for this is that he'd have a fixed ideal of what constitutes as good and proper, and he would require you to conform to that image. Depending on your character and disposition, this could be painful for you. But surely you'll embrace your cruel fate, for isn't love the sweetest form of suffering. Pragmatic and cynical as he would be and would claim to be, Arthur would still be a romantic at heart. To him, meeting you would be fate, and you would do well to likewise recognise that your fate lies with him. Generally he wouldn't accept any words or actions that would go against this perceived destiny - he wouldn't take them seriously. 

Overall, he would see you as lesser than him, and therefore not as deserving of respect and regard. Much of the politeness and charm he would display to you wouldn't stem from seeing you as an equal or from thinking highly of your thoughts and emotions, but rather from the sort of charity given to the invalid and the naive. 

This flows nicely into the next red flag, in that he can be unbelievably paternalistic and conceited. You acting out, trying to defend your boundaries, or even just not fitting into what he deems appropriate would be deemed as you being unreasonable or having a phase. All in all, it would be very difficult to criticise him since he would first have to view you as a person worth listening to, and that wouldn't be a given. Even if your relationship has reached that level of respect, he would be quick to deliver some sharp retorts. Also, he would simply not care that some of the things he does are reprehensible. Either the end would justify the means, or the other people are inferior and conventional morals can't be applied to them. 

Additionally, he would be prone to making decisions for you, without your input. Mind you, he would allow you to place your orders by yourself when you go out to wine and dine. Though, he would decide what you wear, when you go to sleep, what you eat and drink at home, and the media you consume. This would start way before he would manage to fully isolate/kidnap you. Arthur regards himself as more apt when it comes to making choices about your life than you are. 

Related to that above, he would manage to make you go along with all that (at least in the beginning) by acclimating you to his controlling nature. He wouldn't dominate your life all at once and the more he'd enter your life, the more he'd determine how you'd live your own life. He'd demand that you tell him of all your movements and errands, make you let him look through your letters and bills and have you give him the passwords to all your accounts. On top of that, he would micromanage you at times. 

Another warning sign would be how unpredictable he would be. When it comes to social interactions, what happens is very dependent on Arthur's. He is far from emotionless, and is very passionate indeed. However, he isn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve or display his emotions openly, which would make it difficult to assess the situation at times. A bad time on the way home from work can decide if you receive affection or are pushed away with sharp remarks. Additionally, it would be the little things that would set him off the most, while he would remain stoic and calm in the face of large calamities.

Compatriot - Who aids them? Who condemns them? Are there ways you can convince their friends/colleges/underlings to help you? 

Part of Arthur's magic is convincing others of his superiority. There would be many that would aid him simply because they'd falsely believe he is all-powerful and that moving against him is futile. These sorts would be the worst - you'd have their sympathy and pity and they would likely believe you fully if you'd recount the lived horror and they'd still resolutely refuse to help you. On the contrary, they would even encourage you to give in to him, to simply weather the storm instead of fighting against it. These people would also be the hardest to persuade and the fastest to betray you, since they would fully buy into the illusion of Arthur's invulnerability and seek to gain small favours from their "Lord and Saviour". 

Then there would be those that would be on his side because they'd agree with his world views and morality. Best not to bank on their support, because Arthur would always be grander in their minds than you. Unless … there is nothing more feverant than a disillusioned devotee, eh? There, you could get their support, you would just have to teach them successfully that their angel is a demon. 

Naturally, England would also have many enemies. So some of them, all that would matter would be to land a blow on Arthur, so they would have no qualms or second thoughts of helping you. They might even "be on your side" before you'd catch on to Kirkland's true colours. Perhaps they would even be the ones to shine light on his less appealing traits. One thing that you should keep in mind though, that they wouldn't care about what would happen to you, as long as they could hurt Arthur. 

Aside from the obvious category of people that hate Arthur and who would also be sympathetic to your cause, there would also be the normal people that just want to go about their day-to-day lives. Those that might work for Arthur; they might trip you up if they like him, they might ignore your forged documents and stolen money if they hate him. Generally, many people downplay the power and the influence of the ordinary, working man. Arthur would be no exception to this rule, and could use this against him. 

Dominion - What actions are especially pleasing to them?

Above all else - you defer to him. He wants to be your guiding light in the darkness. He is supposed to be your teacher and protector and provider, and he wouldn't settle for anything less. For you to recognise and accept your role in the dynamic between the two of you would be a boon. It would be a relief that he wouldn't have to chastise and punish you like a wayward child. It would give him a bit of hope.

Interestingly enough, he would still desire for you to be resolute. Silk hiding steel comes to mind and if you're the sort to faint at the slightest sign of trouble, he would deem you a product of bad breeding. You are to be a rose, and your thorns should be sharp. Of course, this shouldn't come at his expense, for he doesn't want somebody that would constantly stand against him. You should be the sort that is a fun conquest, and a steadfast companion that doesn't cause more trouble than you solve. The deep irony here is that he wishes that you aren't a child, all while being continuously paternalistic. 

Appeal to his finer sensibilities - have etiquette down pat, be educated in that you know the classics and poetry and the BBC nature documentaries. Be easy on the eye and balm for the soul to him, make him feel respected and allow him to rant about god and the world without always throwing in your two cents. Be attentive to his needs, whether it be a shoulder massage, a bottle of port or tickets for the nearest rugby match. Communication without many words necessary would be prefered. On your side, such a skill would even be needed if you want to survive him. 

Tied into that - he would want the little things taken care of by you. Have a meal ready when he comes home, and the bathroom scrubbed and the washing done. Still he would require the dichotomy of a homebody and an adventurer, at least to some extent (and you thought he was going to leave you alone at home). Everywhere though, you'd be expected to put his well being above your own. After all, if he is out cold, then who will take care of you. No matter how strong and capable you are, he will forever regard himself as your superior. 

Conform to the values of the time. If there is something that irks Arthur beyond measure, it would be not understanding something. He wouldn't understand you if your mind runs on models of the world he is not familiar with. Of course, if you don't see things his way yet then it is no issue - diamonds commonly need polishing and cutting before they are perfect. It would be a re-edition of the white man's burden. 

Flight - What do you have to do in order to escape them?

It would be easier than you'd expect. Arthur's main spiel to make you stay by him would be to make you think that escape is futile, and that he is all-powerful and all-knowing when it comes to you. He would aim at "demonstrating" this by stalking you or also letting you escape only to capture you again. This wouldn't be his only failsafe. Perhaps he'll socially isolate you, so that you believe he is the only person in the world that you can trust, or he'll convince you that you're a horrible person, and he is only doing on to you what you deserve (he might even believe the latter himself). So what you have to do, is break the mental fetters, and then matters already become easier. 

Two pathways are recommended: Either do something completely haywire that he wouldn't expect. Send yourself abroad per post, join a travelling circus troupe or become a nun. There are only so many avenues of escape that he can close down, and the most obvious would be the first to go. Or you could elect to hide in plain sight and slip away. Lose him in a shopping mall or in a crowded street. A concert would be even better. Afterwards, it would be advisable to act normal - because he would be looking for a harried person. 

And have some tranquillisers/sleeping pills at hand. You'll need them to cope with the fallout. 

Hospitality - What is your life like with them? How much does it deviate from your former life?

You'd basically have to adopt an Arthur-approved lifestyle and discard everything that came for. He would dictate the tempo and direction, with you having precious little say in the matter. You'd only have your way if your interests coincide with England's or you plant the ideas in his head and let him think it was his idea in the first place. 

You'd become another fixture in his environment and thus everything that is his would become yours as well. The living space would be his and he would share it with you. Whether you like it or not, you would start orienting yourself around his routines and ideas. A side effect of this would be that he would control what you would read, watch and listen to. When locked up and subject to his tender mercies, you would be powerless to obtain any information other than what he allows. 

Aside from that, there are too many restrictions and rules to count, and you would only be able to have some comfort once you learn to navigate the minefield. In total, your life would be more akin to life in an old girls boarding school, or even a prison. The food would be just as bland, unless you'd take matters into your own hands. 

With him, your opinion would matter very little and his would be everything. Every criticism of your person would have to be acted on immediately, and every wish treated as an order. Of course, he would detest it if you'd simply allow him to walk all over you, but he would equally loath it if you would stubbornly resist it. It would be a balancing act that you would have to learn to master.

 In the beginning you might be inclined to point out how his treatment of you would contradict his own morals. Arthur wouldn't care - this is a point that can't be stressed enough. Conventional morals wouldn't apply to you, in his eyes. Besides, you would be his plaything, something with which he can engage in all his base desires and dark urges without any repercussions. Somebody at his station would have to punish him for him to genuinely become better towards you. 

There are few holds barred for him when it comes to you, and that makes him all the more dangerous. Should the mood strike him due to your bad behaviour, then he would bring out the thumb screws and the brands and the water torture. He probably wouldn't want to mar you, or at least not too much. You should still be prepared for burns of all sorts and being twisted into various uncomfortable positions and restrained. Here, the menu would be a lengthy one. 

Of course, there would be the social aspect. One of the first things Arthur would do would be to chip away at your social circle. This could be either through slander and manipulation, or more criminal methods like framing, drugging and murder. Eitherway, soon he'll be the only one you'll have, and since he is a jealous man, you would either only be able to interact with a carefully curated group of people, or not at all. 

Order - What are the rules you have to adhere to?

There are too many rules to count when it comes to Arthur Kirkland. He wouldn't spell out all of them for you anyway, since a lot of them are self-evident in his eyes. Besides, he'd want you to live according to the spirit of the rules, rather than him having to lay out an exact wording only for you to engage in loophole abuse. Regardless, here are some of mentioned rules:

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. Mind you, this is only towards him - other people are fair game. Although, you'd have to be smart about it and avoid causing second hand embarrassment. This would be easier said than done when you're in company, since your actions would automatically reflect on Arthur, once a certain point in your relationship has been reached. If you'd curse and chew out the world with him, he would be delighted. If you would turn your insults on him, he would burn with rage at the insolence and the impertinence. How dare you undermine his authority! Verbal sparring would be occasionally welcomed, though you'd have to have the sensitivity to tell when the ice is too thin to stand on. 

Behave yourself when we are in mixed company. Even when we are in company in general. To him, you are a pet project, living evidence that he can fashion perfection out of flesh and bone and a willful spirit. Totting you out to other people would come with the expectation that you be a living exhibit of his talents. As such, he wouldn't take it well if you misbehave. Mind you, he wouldn't be above humiliating you in mixed company just to save his own reputation. 

Keep up with the etiquette, will you? Belonging to him would mean you'd have to comply with a whole host of rules and rituals and mannerisms. This can vary depending on his social standing and the time period. The main point would be that you wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. The irony here is that he would desire you to have the skills and aptitude to get along well with your peers all while wanting you all to himself.

Don't make me repeat myself, pet. There are some phrases Arthur would repeat around you over and over again, like an especially devout priest. He would want you to internalise some truths after all. On the flip side, he would loathe to have to repeat himself when he talks with you, or to have to lay out his instructions a second time. Should he be peeved, and then be forced to repeat himself just because you weren't paying attention, then you would have a punishment awaiting you. Above all, don't talk back when he orders or chastises you - he wouldn't hold back with the yelling and the insults and the condensation if you do. 

 Be honest with me, savvy? I can't smell what you are thinking, after all. For somebody as cunning and devious as Arthur Kirkland, he gets extraordinarily upset when he is given a taste of his own medicine. He would demand you be forthright and honest with him, something that would be very difficult if you don't want to be with him and don't want to anger him at the same time. The reason behind this would be that he would want to trust you, and he wouldn't be able to trust you if he'd have to cut through your lies and half truths and word games. Or if he would only receive your complaints from around five corners, or something of the sort. Asides, if you're the sort to voice your displeasure and be open about your thoughts and feelings (to him, it should be said) then he wouldn't be in for any nasty surprises. 

Rehabilitation - How much will they change you? Will they break you? How much therapy would you need in the event that you get rid of them? 

Arthur Kirkland is the sort of man that would leave scars. He'd want you to be unable to live without him and he'd strive to condition you to dissolve into hysterics should you be separated from him. In the case he should succeed, you'd be fine for a few days and then descend into such emotional turmoil. This would be because he'd have your behavioural structures tailored to him, and without him to act as your focal point, you would grow anxious. Be careful not to go crawling back to him then - each escape would be more mentally challenging then the one before. 

Even when you'd be away from him, his rules would be so ingrained in you that you'd follow them on a subconscious level. You'd find yourself fixing your posture all the time, and weighing each word up against gold before uttering it. Out of reflex you'd discreetly check your surroundings to see where Arthur is and no matter how much you'd police your thoughts, his cynical attitude towards other human beings would have rubbed off on you and infected your mental processes. Arthur would continue to accompany you as the devil on your shoulder, as the voice of your inner critic, as a demon that would haunt your dreams, even if he would no longer be physically present. You'd have to be self-aware and self-conscious to rid yourself of those fetters. 

Aside from that, he wouldn't hesitate to break you to achieve his goals. There would be regrets on his behalf, yes. However, he'd never regret breaking you to the point that he would strive to make amends and see the errors of his ways. Instead, he would blame you for being too rebellious, for having such a brittle character that you broke instead of bending to his will, for being of ill stock and bad breeding. Admitting wrongdoing would be akin to weakness for him, something he would never allow himself to display in front of you.

Perhaps you would retain enough sanity and energy even when broken to flee him, perhaps you would develop a secondary or even tertiary personality to deal with the trauma. Either way, a life without Arthur would be even more cumbersome and hard than when you'd have been whole. It would take years until you'd be able to function normally again, and that is only if the best case scenario of you having a stable life without Arthur hunting you, occurs. 

Zeal - Do they fall fast or slow? What is their reaction to their own feelings?

Ever the romantic at heart, passion would grip him quickly, yet he would be very slow to act on it. It wouldn't be the first case of limerence on his side, and he would want to be sure of his feelings and their longevity before committing to you. Ironically, the more he'd try to wrestle his emotions into control and bottle them, the more potent and out of control they would become. Finally, they would overwhelm him and he would find himself rationalising the most heinous actions. 

The same justifications he would use towards himself would be applied towards other people, maybe even towards you. As time passes, the self-justifications and such would come ever easier, and also more extreme. It would finally reach a point where morality would be flung out the window. Why should he heed boundaries, if there is no punishment for overstepping? Maybe you find some countermeasure within your power that you can exercise to keep him in line. Just don't harbour the illusion that it'll work forever. 

Art doesn't belong to me, nor does the character!

[incoggniit]

THE ART OF SURRENDER

(This is just a little bit of my own reflection with myself, I share it in case it helps anyone.)

Life, in its essence, is in constant movement. It takes us from one place to another, faces us with challenges, pushes us toward goals. In a world where we are always searching, achieving, and striving, it can be difficult to understand such a simple yet profound concept: surrender. But the truth is, the art of surrender is the key to accessing the void.

What does it mean to surrender?

Surrender does not mean failing or giving up on life. It is not defeat or the passive acceptance of circumstances. On the contrary, surrender is a conscious act of letting go of control. It is abandoning the need to manage, control, and manipulate circumstances, people, or even our own thoughts. Surrender is not giving up on a battle, but accepting and flowing with what is, without resistance or expectations.

Surrendering to the Void: The Path to Pure Consciousness?

The void is that space where everything exists without form, where there is no time, no space, no resistance. It is the essence of pure consciousness, a place where thought and duality disappear, and only being remains. Entering the void requires total surrender. In the void, there is no effort, no struggle, no control, There is no need to wait for something to happen. All we do is BE.

By surrendering, we merge with universal consciousness, recognizing that we are not something separate, but part of the infinite flow of creation.

How to Surrender? Simple and Easy.

• Relax deeply: Free yourself from tension and effort. Relaxation is key to accessing the void. Let go of any attempt to control the moment. Just be.

• Trust : Surrendering is trusting that everything that happens is aligned with your purpose. There is nothing that needs to be “fixed.” Everything is perfect as it is.

• Total surrender: Surrender is an act of complete surrender to the present moment. When you surrender completely, you open yourself to the infinite, to the void, to instant creation.

In the void, everything is possible. Everything we desire is already present, waiting to be manifested. By surrendering, we stop being the “doers” and become conscious creators of our reality. There is no effort. There is only being.

Final

Surrendering to the void is not surrendering to life as something that happens outside of you, but surrendering to the inner truth. By surrendering, we recognize that we are the void, and that our essential nature is to create from that pure consciousness. From the void, there is no separation between you and what you desire. It already is.

The art of surrender is the art of being. And in that being, everything manifests instantly.

So? Lie down, relax, relax with whatever you want, and surrender. And now, just be you.

[srue-on-fire]

hold my wips while i rant about ramon fucking diaz.

honestly, ramon isn’t a diaz man in my eyes. he’s not even human at this point. everyone loves to talk about how helena is such a bitch, how she was cruel and demanding and impossible to please —and yeah, she was. but people forget that venom doesn’t always come with a hiss. sometimes it comes with a soft voice and a hand on your shoulder, on the neck, right before it twists the knife.

“[…] like you came around.”

he’s the kind of man who makes you feel like you came to the decision, like you chose to give in. he never raises his voice, never looks angry. no, he just sighs. quietly. sadly. he’ll look at you like he’s disappointed —not in what you did, but in himself, like he failed you. and suddenly you’re the one apologizing, scrambling to fix something he never even had to name.

that’s his trick. guilt. manipulation wrapped in affection.

he tells eddie something along the lines, “i know your mother can be harsh,” and for a second, it feels like solidarity —like he’s on eddie’s side. but when helena goes too far? he says nothing. he doesn’t defend eddie, doesn’t speak up, doesn’t change anything. because that would require effort.

that would mean standing up to someone instead of quietly shaping the narrative to serve himself.

ramon paints himself as the good guy. the understanding one. the father who gets it. but he only “gets it” when it makes eddie drop his guard —when it opens him up enough for ramon to slip in the knife. He never directly tells eddie what to do. he doesn’t have to. he just makes sure that doing anything but what he wants feels like betrayal. like failure. like eddie is the one walking away from the man who “loves him.”

it’s subtle. it’s silent. and it works. gods, does it work.

that’s what narcissists like ramon do. they don’t break you openly. they make you think the cracks are your own fault.

and to see eddie raising above it all? to give them back only love and kill them with kindness? it’s fucking poetic to me.

[incomingalbatross]

Perhaps people's issue with the Vader thing is that they misunderstand nature of redemption. People today (and a lot of half-baked redemption stories today too) like to think it's actually about someone who wasn't really that bad, just misguided/manipulated/traumatized doing something wrong, then fixing it and being their true self.

But actually, redemption is at its core is about an evil person becoming a good person. Redemption does not require sympathetic motives for the evil, nor for the evil person to deserve it (an oxymoron) or even for them to be able to make up for it. The foundation for redemption stories is that the redeemed person was evil.

Agreed.

[nemoredraw]

Can we get a full Nemo (your oc) body drawing? And some notes about them! I’m invested in his story and his deal!!!

[TRIGGER WARNING] Violence, drugs, etc.

Of course!

Here are some reference drawings I usually use.

Fun facts about Nemo Arkham:

• Skilled in mechanics: Surprisingly, he does quite well fixing and understanding the workings of many vehicles or even gadgets.

• Firearms proficiency: Despite always carrying two pistols, he’s not very skilled with them. He prefers to play with the element of surprise in close combat. He still has a lot to learn about firearms but is quite adept with melee weapons (though explosives require less effort for him).

• Fashionable: He likes to dress well, usually in elegant suits, even in complex situations. It has become a symbol of his identity.

• Smokes anywhere: Even in tricky situations, he smokes. Let’s just say it helps him think.

• Great actor: He always likes to keep everything under control. When things slip out of his grasp, he becomes overwhelmed and desperately tries to regain control. He never does anything without a double intention, making it hard to trust him. He always seems to be playing with those around him. Nemo has excellent manipulation skills.

• Multilingual: He speaks several languages—Russian, German, Japanese, French, Spanish, and English. He is most fluent in Spanish and English. His origins are European, though the specific region is unknown.

• Empathy for children: This is the one area where he shows genuine empathy, likely because it reminds him of his childhood.

• Feminist: Despite his identity as a villain, he always defends women, viewing them not as sexual objects but as people.

• Spending habits: He doesn’t care much about spending money and is often surrounded by luxury, but only when he’s with others. In the quiet of his home, he’s content with a good bottle of whiskey and regular cigarettes.

• Solitary: He dislikes having close relationships, believing they could become a weakness others might exploit.

• Body modifications: He has a navel piercing.

• Transgender: He transitioned at a young age, and since his body hadn’t developed much yet, transitioning to male was easier for him.

• Heir turned soldier: Nemo is an heir but was raised more like a soldier or a weapon, always under his father’s yoke.

• Self-grooming: He cuts his own hair, which is why it always looks rather messy.

• Drug addiction: He’s addicted to a new drug called ASH BONE. He usually consumes it alone since (depending on the dose) it puts him in a state of chemical submission. A small dose only relaxes him.

• Goal (spoiler): Nemo’s objective is to destroy Batman and Gotham, no matter the limits he has to cross.

• Slade Wilson’s role: Slade trained him in hand-to-hand combat for a period of his life. Nemo never liked Slade. (Spoiler) When Nemo escaped his father’s grasp, he was kidnapped and tortured to break his will. Slade oversaw the torture, administering the experimental drug ASH BONE for the first time, making Nemo addicted.

• Shade the cat: As a child, Nemo adopted a black cat named Shade.

• Connection with Damian: The only member of the Batfamily he gets along with is Damian. He understands his anger and pain, so they connect perfectly, even though they maintain a lot of emotional distance. Nemo gave Damian those little star-shaped clips.

• Nicknames for Batman: Nemo ironically calls Batman “the emo who listens Deftones.” (He has many nicknames for the Batfamily: “the bats,” “winged rats,” “the emo squad,” “the darkness,” “the dark divas,” etc.)

(I could go on all day writing more random facts about Nemo, but I don’t think many people would care, haha!)

[rs-hawk]

Creeptober: Day Six

He Comes

Zalgo x Gen!Reader

CW: mild psychological horror themes, mind manipulation, sleep deprivation noncon, etc

You had heard about a man that went crazy here a few years ago. The one that abandoned his garage and tore out the hospital as his wife was delivering his baby. To you, it seemed like the man went crazy. His best friend had tried talking to him for a couple weeks, apparently, but he kept acting like he was losing it.

A few made jokes about the incident, and occasionally you’d hear teenagers laughing as they popped in black contacts to scare their friends, or in an ominous voice say, “He comes”. You thought if it wasn’t at the expense of a poor man who sounded like he might have gone and offed himself, it all might have been a little funny. A small town horror story told to kids to get them to mind and remind them to stay away from the bar and to keep their head on straight.

However, things took a dark turn when you took your car into the garage. Oil was leaking, and your breaks suddenly required you to basically stomp down all your weight onto it. The friend of that guy that went crazy, you can’t remember his name, and a slick black oil covers his embroidered name, greeted you. He told you it would only take an hour or two to get it all fixed up. He assured you that there wasn’t anything too wrong after just a quick look.

Sitting in the waiting room, you decided to play on your phone. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw long tendrils slinking across the ground. However, when you turned your head, all you saw was a vending machine. As if on cue, your stomach growled. Though you hadn’t been here very long, you decided that a little treat couldn’t hurt.

It was like the next few days happened in a blur.

You got your snack, and the chips seemed to have little bugs crawling in it, making you gag. However, as you threw it away, you realized it was those smoky tendrils you saw out of the corner of your eye earlier. The man from the garage came to talk to you, but his voice was inaudible, and blackness covered his entire eye.

Running outside, everyone you came in contact with had those same black eyes, and voices you couldn’t understand. You ran. You ran past moms and babies in strollers, who turned to look at you with those black eyes. You ran past kids on the playground. People walking their dogs. People shopping. Everyone stopped to look at you.

You don’t think you went outside the next couple days, but maybe it was longer. You couldn’t eat because all the food had those tendrils, and something inside of you said it would be better to starve than to let those things touch you. You couldn’t sleep, because then you heard murmurings of voices you knew but couldn’t place. There was only one phrase you could hear. “He comes”.

The little bit of water you managed to find that wasn’t infected only made you hungrier. You were wrapped up in a blanket, staring blankly at the wall. You couldn’t even be on your phone because anything with a face would turn to you, repeating that haunting phrase.

“He comes”.

After you don’t know how many days, sleep overcame you. There was no use fighting it. Your body was giving out. You had to sleep.

“He comes,” repeated over and over in your head, masking your dreams, filling your mind.

Despite the lack of water and food, you woke up in a cold sweat. The sunlight outside that was able to leak in illuminated the tendrils that were working their way up from your cabinets to your bed. There was no where left to hide. There was no where to run. You did try to pry open your window, but it was no use. The tendrils were creeping in from outside by then too.

You did your best to wave them off with your blanket, surprised when some of them did back up, but never enough for you to slip through the mass. You tried your best to scare them off, or to at least not show that you were terrified, but when they finally began to curl around your legs, grabbed onto your wrist, wrapped around your waist, you knew there was no escape for you. Tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes, dripping down your face as you tried your best to not show how terrified you were.

“He arrives. Zalgo,” a voice from nowhere, everywhere, echoed in your head.

A black mass that was primarily obscured by the tendrils rose from them. Inky blackness where eyes should be. Fingers that seemed to be dripping and drifting off at the same time reached for you. They slipped into your mouth, making your nose scrunch at the strange sensation of steam being pressed past your lips. Part of you wondered if this was a dream, some sleep deprived, insanity induced hallucination, but deep down you knew that wasn’t it. You knew this was real.

Zalgo, as the voice claimed the mass was, used another hand to shred your clothing. You winced, afraid of the claws slicing through you as well, but He seemed to take care in not tearing you to pieces. Yet.

You’re not sure what you would call what he slid inside of you, the closest thing would be a cock, but that’s not quite right. You felt it expand inside of you, pulsing and throbbing. It seemed to be adjusting to the perfect size to make you feel good. The fingers in your mouth pulled out, letting you gasp for breath as the thing inside you slowly thrusted, giving you time to adjust each time.

Your body betrayed you as a small whine of need escaped your lips, your hips rising to meet His. He let out a chuckle, but that was the only acknowledgment given. The pace He set was steady, but every thrust pushed more and more from your mind. By the time you were on the brink of orgasm, you can’t even remember where you are. Your name was something you knew was there, but you couldn’t recall it.

“He cums,” that voice said again, this time almost mockingly.

“Please, please,” you found yourself babbling, begging. You wanted to please Him so He would keep pleasing you. Your hole was clenching around him excitedly, almost desperately. That earned you another chuckle.

It only took a few more strokes for Him to cum inside of you, though it didn’t feel like human cum. It made you feel twisted up inside, like something was changing, but it didn’t matter, because He didn’t stop. He kept up his steady pace, His fingers and tendrils touching and caressing every part of your body, relishing each time you came on Him.

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