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sugar-grigri · 6 months

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Fujimoto has never talked so much about love as in this chapter

This chapter is incredible, not only for the multitude of answers it offers but also for the beauty of its writing on first reading alone.

It opens with a man who appeared in chapter 101 of CSM, as passers-by passively walked past him, this stranger was actually right: humans, one of whose major causes of death are demons, are leading to a cold war (ironic to talk about a Cold War for a manga set in the 90s)

But it's as if the whole of society refuses to notice, that everyone hides behind Chainsaw Man and consumes all these derivative products like lucky charms. Chainsaw Man embodies a demonic anomaly, a demon at the service of the people who make them forget this war.

And that's exactly why Yoru has a grudge against him. Chainsaw Man is an instrument of peace, wielded in times of peace and sacrificed in times of war. Chainsaw Man is there to make us forget the conflicts or become the scapegoat, in either case, he is there to make us forget the war in which humanity is trapped.

A machine into which all hopes are projected, cries of suffering directed, whose childlike quality is seen only by the predators who exploit him constantly.

What we need to see in this dialogue between Nayuta and Fumiko is a struggle for domination. As we have seen, Fumiko is someone who, despite her aggressions, drowns them in a constantly contradictory protection: she wants to protect a child, but moleste Denji, plays a game in which she places him as older in order to hide her predation, and has saviour syndrome.

Fumiko thinks she's easily understood the nature of weapons, she's sensitive to Quanxi's bodily sacrifices and only repeats to the one she's abusing like an unrestrained fan of a child. Fumiko is the symbol that even when she belongs to the same camp as those she intends to protect, she still can't understand them.

She thinks it's either Nayuta who finds humans weak, or the fact that Barem supports Denji's demonic quality, that they are threats to his well-being when they are the ones who know him best. This is normal, because the strategy of public hunters is to bank on Denji's human side, but this strategy is not enough.

In chapters 136 and 137, Denji is mistreated when he's playing as a human being, getting into fights at school, being treated badly by his teachers, molested when he was thinking about a date at the cinema, and the closer he gets to normality, the more he suffers.

She symbolises not only Denji's sexual trauma, but also the paradox of the hunter system: a system that intends to offer Denji a family framework, but which is not only failing but also traumatising.

Nayuta says she wouldn't kill humans because they're weak compared to demons anyway. It would be as boring as killing ants! It's a continuation of Makima's point that the demon of control isn't interested in things that can be mobilised or easily controlled, it's powerful demons like Pochita that she wouldn't be able to control. Because the only way to establish a link for this demon is to find a demon as powerful as her, of her rank. Nayuta's superiority complex is always balanced against Denji's inferiority complex.

While the demon of control is only interested in demons, the demon who was martyred by humans cannot conceive of himself without them, but we'll come back to that later.

I just want to point something out: isn't it paradoxical to reproach Denji for the education he gives Nayuta when Fumiko is supposed to regard him, as she claims, as a child? Once again, Fumiko is in constant contradiction, protecting by controlling and attacking, conceiving of a child as an adult, she is the hold over a child she can't help but see as a weapon while vouching for his condition.

What's more, Fumiko's thinking is purely human, not universal like Denji and Nayuta. For them, feeding the dogs and their cat is a mission of the utmost necessity, it's like acting to protect one's family, whereas Fumiko refutes this.

Denji has been considered a dog for part of his life, and has bonded and merged with a demon in the shape of a dog, which is the first form of love he received: it was not humans who first gave Denji love, but animals. In the same way, the demon of control likes to form a relationship with dogs who take pleasure in their domestication, either as a form of denunciation or as a clearly established hierarchy.

Fumiko proves that human sensitivity only stops at their peers, while the rarer demonic sensitivity is more universal and intense, whether it's treating animals as precious beings or forgiving unforgivable acts like Denji's continued love for Makima.

The fact that Denji and Nayuta appear to have no moral barriers is what allows them not to be prisoners of their own, and to conceive of love more extensively, whether it be harmful or inter-species.

All this just goes to prove Barem's point that, as a weapon, he has a very good understanding of the different species and what they have in common: death is what binds us together.

When humans no longer find interest in a figure, it is destruction that attracts them. In other words, it's intrinsic to them. Even when they have been spared the demon of fire, they intend to spread it. Isn't it ironic, then, that Fumiko intends to protect two demons at the expense of their animals? Humans only see the world in terms of hierarchy, whereas demons and animals recognise that there is more to it than just a food chain.

Nayuta's emphasis on the exhilaration that comes from abusing and killing demons is spot on. In chapter 137, Denji had fun beating up all those men, even concluding that "this" normal life wasn't so bad. Why was that? Because it's the daily life of a demon.

Denji, who belongs to both camps, has human needs just as much as he has demonic needs, so Nayuta has a point. But just as living solely as a human doesn't satisfy Denji, acting solely as a demon doesn't work any better.

Denji works through the concrete, through sensations, and what he materialises through his senses, the fact being that he's had at least one kiss without any major damage with a human his own age.

Just a harmless touch is what allows Denji to connect with humanity as a whole, to be sensitive to their plight, even though he has no morals and takes pleasure in human suffering.

It wasn't until Denji struck up a relationship with Aki and Power for the first time that he was able to feel human and stop feeling like an animal. We are empathetic to the fate of those who resemble us, Denji is a universal being, animal, human and demon, he is the one who brings these different worlds together. Barem is right: death is what binds species together. But Pochita and Denji are the symbol that love can also be a common denominator.

The fact that he thinks of Asa is symbolic because, without knowing it, she is the one who understood the plurality of species in Denji. She began by dehumanising him, Denji's animal phase, placing him below the cat (proof that she too places animals before men), then she had budding feelings for Denji before being disturbed by Chainsaw Man.

That's why Chapter 101 is so important to understanding this chapter: because in it, Asa makes friends with both humans and demons, getting to know Yuko just as she does Yoru. She is not outraged by the idea of killing, as Yoru asks her to do, having put aside her human nature and accepted the world as it is, which is ruled by death.

But she is no fatalist, and in the face of a demon, she protects Yuko, continuing to love despite her mistakes "as long as her heart is in the right place". What matters is not so much our actions as the cursor through which we place ourselves to apprehend the world.

Relationships are full of mistakes, imperfections, misunderstandings and a game of dominance. Denji doesn't realise it, but the one who kissed him wasn't Asa but Yoru, and it was for a bad purpose: to turn him into a weapon. Paradoxically, in wanting to make Denji a weapon, Yoru conceived him as he was, a hybrid being, a weapon. It was the first kiss in which he was seen for what he was.

But not only that, just as Asa loves the different natures of the multi-species being that is Denji, so Denji loves Asa's dual nature, what holds him together is as much the memory of the human in the aquarium as the physical contact with the demon inside her.

While Asa, in her desire to protect Denji, was distancing herself from him, hurting him and making him doubt himself, it was paradoxically the demon, with evil intentions, who gave him some peace of mind.

The chapter is called Devil's choice, an expression which means that we only have two choices, that we can't have everything. In this case, that would mean choosing a species, a side. But what Asa and Denji still represent in this Shakespearean symbolism is not belonging to any side, but loving in a universal way.

The rejection of men has opened up other perspectives for both of them, be it the animal or the demonic connection.

Once again, the answer lies in plurality, in what begins with two: Asa and Denji decide, on the contrary, to have it all, there is no Devil's choice.

By deciding to bond with animals rather than humans when they lost their parents, Asa and Denji forged a destiny guided by love without barriers.

Their bad experiences - sexual harassment for Denji and bullying at school for Asa - at the hands of adults have naturally created a distrust of humanity that is rekindled by contact between the two of them. It's when Denji and Asa come together that they regain hope, because they are the definition of loving each other fully.

Those who stand in the way of this universal love are the public hunters who avoid this natural crossing.

The public hunters are there precisely to fuel the fight against humans and demons, the link they carry is not love but the other common denominator, death, destruction. Even if it means crossing the moral barrier to exploit children with Yoshida by forcing them to harm other children like Asa, Fumiko being once again the symbol of this danger.

Denji has both human and demonic needs, so he's destined to love Asa because she's both human and harbours a demon with a thirst for violence. Chainsaw Man was used to make us forget the war, but by loving the demon of war, they both unravel.

Only Chainsaw Man and the demon of war can conquer death, because love is the second common denominator that links the species. Why? Because everyone has a heart. Even demons. Who not only have one, but become one.

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myfictionaldreams · 6 months

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Hey :) i would love to ask for a spicy Lucius Malfoy x Reader ☺️ something like Reader is a young Teacher in Hogwarts and Lucius and her are having an (very serious) affair (takes Place in the chamber of secrets).

The School Governor //Lucius Malfoy x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I've never written Lucius before, but hopefully, you'll enjoy it!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, infidelity/cheating, secret relationship, rough sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, tension, praise kink, size difference, Narcissa bashing (sorry!), kissing, fluff/angst

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚

AO3 Link

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here at this time of day, Mr Malfoy?”

The corner of the man’s lip twitched up like he was trying to smile but attempting to conceal it by remaining stoic. You were then faced with his signature sneer, those piercing grey eyes wandering over your appearance as if he was assessing whether he even wanted to waste his time. “It seems I’ve become lost on my travels around Hogwarts. Might you show me the way out?” Lucius asked with disdain thick in his voice

“Of course, Sir. Just this way”, you pointed in the direction you’d just walked from. No one even blinked an eye in either of your directions as you led him away from the grouping of students who were all on their way to bed as the night drew closer to curfew.

Your head remained forward, not once looking over your shoulder to check if he was following as you knew that he would be. You thanked Merlin for having an office so far away from students and other professors as the main offices were already lived in. You were new to the school, recently hired to assist Madam Pomfrey with Herbology, as she was too busy trying to attend to the Mandrakes.

The job may have been due to the recommendations of the man following closely behind you, his cane clicking against the stone floor and billowing close, switching the dust in whichever direction he turned.

As you both approached further towards the greenhouses and, thus, your office, there was a blossoming of heat and anticipation spreading from the centre of your chest to the tip of your toes. This was always something that your body seemed to do whenever within arms reach of the school’s governor. Moreover, he always seemed to be at the school nowadays, stating that he was there on school business, especially with the latest attacks on the students.

This is just an excuse, however, pretending to look around the school to catch the Headmaster in a scheme, but really, he would be sneaking to your classroom, office or meeting in the Forbidden Forest.

It was wrong. More than wrong. He had a wife, whom he was incredibly unhappy with, having been forced into a marriage as soon as he’d finished his time as a student at Hogwarts. All to abide by the pure blood status and traditions without any sort of say in the matter. Forced to live a life of misery, reproduce and have heirs and then die in a loveless marriage.

This was the only reason you had continued to meet with him. The ache in your heart quickly succumbs to his negative life. You knew he was manipulative, quick-tempered and had questionable ideologies on the dark arts. But when it came to Lucius Malfoy, it was as if your mind purposefully ignored these warning signs, mainly because he never discussed or acted in a horrible way around you.

You were always his peace and tranquillity, his little saviour in the dark before the world's realities came crumbling down around him. There you were, gifted with the raw, passionate, and incredibly loving man who held your hand when walking past, stroking your cheek to catch any slipped tears when it was time to say goodbye for a few more weeks.

It was a complex relationship to have and made even more so when you were now having to teach his son, Draco, who seemed to be a smaller copy of his Father, to be even more arrogant at his young age. It meant that you could give him additional help to boost his grades and, therefore, please his father, which, in turn, helped bring positivity into the secret relationship.

As you were greeted with the view of the long corridor that led to your office, your steps slowed as Lucius snapped, “Dobby. Check the area is clear for any prying eyes”.

With a flash out of the corner of your eyes, Dobby appeared and disappeared, apparating further down the corridor in multiple positions to check if the two of you were truly alone.

“The area is clear, Master”, Dobby approached before disappearing completely. You and Lucius rushed the remaining way to the office. You opened the door wide enough for him to follow through and slammed closed. As your wand waved in front of the handle, thoroughly locking the two of you in, a hand gripped your hip, turning your body so that your back met the door's wood.

A leathery gloved hand then cupped your jaw, tilting your face back so that Lucius could kiss you with as much desperation and urgency as you felt in the centre of your chest. It almost hurt with how much pressure his face was applying to yours, his warm breath fanning across the apple of your cheeks with where his nose was pressing. Your hands lifted to grab any part of him and ended up clinging onto the opening of his cloak, harshly tugging him even closer until there wasn’t a gap between your bodies.

Releasing a soft moan from your throat, this seemed to begin moving further, both gloved hands now cupping both of your cheeks in a safe cocoon as his thumbs caressed careful circles against your skin.

The coldness of the material wasn’t enough to satisfy your need for him as you dipped your head to free your mouth. “Off! I need your clothes off!”

Lucius’s baritone laugh burst across your face as he stepped back to give the two of you some room. “Such a demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

“I am when you’re wearing so many layers! Take them off!”

He chuckles at your reaction once more but finally begins to remove the cloak from his shoulders and gloves from his hands, next attempting to undo the luxurious vest jacket that he wore. The buttons running down the middle were taking too long for him to undo, so you quickly gripped either side of the best and pulled hard, surprised by your strength as the buttons began to pop off and tumble.

“Do you know how expensive this was?” he asked incredulously, but humour still danced behind his bright eyes.

“I’ll fix it at the end”, you say breathlessly, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him in for another heated kiss. A perfect mix of lips, teeth and tongue, all moving together, nipping, licking and sucking. Neither mouth pulled apart from the other, making the actions more frantic and chaotic with the attempts to remove more of the clothing articles. Soon, you both became frustrated by the barriers and settled for the basics.

Leaving your jumper and skirt on, you kicked off the shows, tights and underwear you’d been wearing as Lucuius kept his white shirt on but undid his leather belt to loosen his trousers and boxers until they were around his knees.

Lucius pulled back from the heated kiss first, but only so he could turn you around and push you face-first against the door. You huffed at the impact but soon were groaning in pleasure as he lifted your skirt and began to rock his dick against your folds, teasing you with gentle pressure before finding its home in your warm cunt.

“Silenco”, Lucius whispers, waving his hand as the atmosphere becomes dense as the spell renders the area soundproof. With the safety of the spell, your mouth fell open, and a barrel of dirty moans left your lips as you didn’t hold back from telling him how good it felt to be stretched by his cock once more.

Lucius dipped his height so that his forehead could rest against your cheek, breathing heavily as he thrust hard and deep. The pace was bruising to the side of your face, resting against the door, but nothing in the world would get you to stop at that moment. To be able to feel his thick length fucking hard into your pussy was something you craved every day.

As your hand reached the back of his head, gripping his silky white-blond hair, you gasped, “I’ve missed you”.

Lucuius groans as he nuzzles into your neck, biting the skin just below your ear as his arm moves around your waist, angling your hips so your arse is sticking out slightly so he can deepen the thrusts.

“I’ve missed you too, little witch. So much more than you could ever know”. Your heart could have stopped at his words, falling even more in love with him than you had before, which tightened your drenched walls even further around him. “I know you’re close. I want to feel you cum around my cock Darling, cum for me like the good witch I know you are”.

As he praises you, the arm around your waist slips beneath the front of your skirt so that he can roll your clit in circles, matching the pace of his hips. Your thighs tremble, fingers clenching his hair until it hurt, but Lucius didn’t stop until you were crying out in pleasure, cunt clamping in spasms around his length, and he, too, joined you through his own orgasm.

Lucius didn’t stop rolling his hips until you were sated and calm from cumming, and his seed had soaked as deep as he possible, caressing your cervix and then dripping out down your thighs. The two of you sighed in contentment, staying together, pushed against the wall, and just appreciating the moment you had tangled against one another.

“I didn’t expect to see you for at least another week. Have you come because of the attacks?”

“I feel as a good Govenor; my answer should be yes”, he whispered against the shell of your ear, nipping the lobe with his teeth, causing goosebumps to rise down your arms. “I can’t deny, however, that it was you that brought me here. I meant it when I said I missed you”.

Even with his softening cock still inside of you, he knew how to make your knees tremble as you blew out a long breath as you asked, “Can you please stay?”

You could feel his shoulders dropping and knew his answer before he’d even begun to speak, and sadness spread through your body, replacing the euphoric sensation. Lucius gently kissed the back of your head as he carefully eased himself away from you, “I’m sorry, my love, you know I can’t”.

Smiling to hide the upset, you turned to him, “I know. I’m sorry I always ask; I just hope that one day you’ll be able to say yes”.

His warm hands cup your cheeks delicately as you do the same for him, carefully moving some of the messy strands behind his ears. “I’m sorry”, he says earnestly.

“Could you stay for a drink at least?”

“I would never say no to a drink with you”. Lucius began to dress, looking significantly more chaotic than before but always looking crisp before leaving. All you managed to do was pick up your discarded clothes and shows, straighten your jumper and wait for him to wave his wand between your legs, cleaning up the mess he had created with a smile.

Walking further into the office, you entered through the hidden door at the back of the room leading directly into your living area. The fire sparked to life as soon as you stepped onto the roof, instantly filling the vast space with heat and an orange hue. Pouring the both of you a hefty glass of dark liquid, you both cheered the glasses together, taking a deep swig of the alcohol that burned your throat deliciously and then settled into the sofa.

You sat remarkably relaxed with him, leaving your bare legs thrown over his lip as his arm settled around your shoulders to keep you close as you watched the fire lights dancing with the flickers of the flames.

“He’s nearly top of the class, but I think he’d have a hard time trying to best both Longbottom or Granger”, you explained sometime later as Lucius asked how Draco was fairing in your class. The man scoffs, only earning him a slap to his chest, “Hey! They’re my students; stop that”. Thankfully, he held his tongue and didn’t prattle on his biased opinions on pure-bloods or traitors, which he had quickly learnt was nothing you were particularly focused on. “Could I ask about what the governors are going to do about the attacks? I don’t want them to close the school, but it feels so dangerous now that students are being attacked”.

Lucius’ arm tightens around your shoulder as his lips press against your temple. “Nothing will harm you, Darling, and I’ve told you this already: I can’t speak of the Governor meetings. We’re sworn to secrecy”.

“It’s not me I’m worried for. It’s the children. It means - aren’t you worried about Draco?”

Your head tilts back on his arm so you can look up into his effortlessly handsome face, expecting him to be worried. However, he only appeared to be as calm and in control as ever, his grey eyes dancing with yours and the bottom lip you’d tucked between your teeth.

“Not at all. He’s in the safest house with the safest blood. I have no worries for my son”. His answer confused you, but you’d just put it down to his many prejudices and superiority complex. Reach up to stroke the smooth sin of his jaw, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean closer and kiss him deeply, tasting the alcohol on his tongue that matched your own.

“What’s it like?” you ask between kisses, unable to stop yourself from asking. “At home, I mean, what’s it like? Do you have any happiness at all?”

“You know I’m not happy and never will be with her”, he answers abruptly, to look at you with a questioning gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know you hate her”. You refuse to say her name both from shame and jealousy. “Do you have anything else that brings you joy? I hate the thought of you being alone in a big house with no one to give you any positivity”.

The hand lazily resting across your calves begins to draw circles into the skin as he contemplates his answer. “Without Draco there, I have no one. Narcissa and I may eat meals together, but that’s as far as it goes. We never talk; we even sleep in separate rooms. Everything is always for show, which is why these moments with you, where I get to be with someone I genuinely love, mean the most to me”.

You shake at his words, feeling the edges of your eyes water as you cling to him with even more desperation. What's more, the hand on your calf was beginning to slowly creep up the sensitive area of your inner thigh, distracting you from continuing the conversation as your legs automatically parted, giving him more room.

“Lucius”, you pleaded, eyes following his long fingers, the thick silver ring with the ‘M’ wrapped around his thumb adding extra sensitivity with the coolness of it against your skin.

“Shh, I’ve got you, little witch. Just relax for me”, he whispered against your temple as his fingers finally reached their goal. Your head tipped onto his shoulder as your back arched. All of your thoughts were centred on the skillfully trained fingers as he explored your dampening folds, spreading them with ease to give his middle finger the path to your eagerly awaiting hole.

You were a mewling mess as he eased two fingers into your cunt, coating the digits in your juices and rocking them in and out carefully. Lucius began to move the arm around your shoulders, relaxing his hold so he could lie you down on the sofa as he leaned over you, his mouth hovering just above yours.

“Are you going to be good for me, my Darling?” he asks, his warm breath teasing you once more as your legs try to clamp his hand in place.

“Yes!” Your shout was abrasive, but only because he’d already caused you to become a pathetic mess. Lucius smiled against your lips but didn’t move to kiss you properly as he applied more pressure with his fingers and thumb and stroked your clit.

You could feel his soft hair falling around your face as he began to curl his fingers inside of you, pounding that one spot within you that had you seeing stars. You weren’t able to say a coherent word as moisture squirted from your cunt, coating his fingers and wrist as he continued the action at a hard and fast pace.

The sloshing noise was obscene to your ears as he made you squirt over your thighs, sofa and his black trousers. You weren’t even sure you’d came as everything went from 0-100 with how intense his fingers had made you feel.

When he slowed his curling digits, you were a gooey mess in his arms. A grin erupted across your face as he sighed into the cushions, leaning further into his chest as he kissed your temple, allowing you to catch your breath.

“I must go; it’s getting late. You know I love you, my little witch”.

“I love you too, Mr Malfoy”.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy one shot #harry potter smut #hp smut #mine*

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girlcalledwhatsername · 1 year

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This shouldn't even be need to be said but don't fucking report people who express being suicidal. I don't care how much you think you're doing it for someone's own good, it does NOT help us it only harms further

READ that AGAIN

You are ACTIVELY harming those people when you try to be a goody two-shoes and tell on them when they get suicidal

Don't fucking report them to social media app features that have the report for self harm option. Don't fucking call a suicide hotline on them. Don't fucking report them to therapists, paychiatrists, cops, controlling parents or partners

It does not matter how uncomfortable it makes you - this isn't ABOUT you - it doesn't matter how much it goes against your cute little saviour complex thinking you're being oh such a wonderful kind heroic person by "saving" someone from themself.

When you report a person to any of those places it heavily risks hospitalisation and incarceration. Where I live it's technically still a crime to attempt suicide, they never overturned the law. And if you think being in a ward might help them - do everyone a favour and go check out the actual conditions in the wards and talk to psych survivors about how they actually are. Otherwise shut up about things you have no experience with.

Everyone should have a right to autonomy, especially bodily autonomy, and you don't have to like what they do with their own body for you to know not to take that away from someone. It's not your place to judge, it's not okay to be moralistic about bodily autonomy suddenly because you can't handle the reality of mentally ill people.

And it's not fucking okay to lock us in and remove us from society just because our disorders are too fucking ugly for you to look at.

If you absolutely have to help just talk to a suicidal person if they're up to it, just ask them what will help, and if you can't do that then leave us the fuck alone you snitches

And don't come at me with the law, if you had to be an ally to mentally ill people, to queer people, to women, to any kind of marginalised people, historically a lot of it has always included standing against the law and with us.

STOP REPORTING US

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xenon-demon · 11 months

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only one (1) coherent thought in my skull right now and it’s domestic steddie with Steve washing Eddie’s hair after he’s discharged from hospital post-Vecna.

I’m imagining Eddie’s being discharged to Steve’s house, because Steve is but a simple man with a saviour complex (and also a crush on Eddie) so he’s letting Wayne and Eddie stay with him. Partly so they have somewhere to be while the government sorts out some new housing for them, but mostly because Eddie needs support for these first few weeks out of hospital and Wayne is away at work a lot. Having Steve around as well means Eddie won’t end up in a situation where he needs a hand but is stuck home alone for hours.

Eddie’s recovered enough for discharge but still requires a lot of physical therapy, and one of the things he still can’t do is raise his arms above his head. He can’t wash his hair pretty much at all, and while the nurses washed it for him in hospital, they didn’t do it frequently enough for Eddie’s standards. His hair has been driving him insane, as the limp, greasy feeling against his face, neck and scalp makes him want to claw his skin off. When he’s told how long it’s expected to take before his arms have full range of motion again, he makes a joke-that’s-not-really-a-joke about going back to his buzzcut days just to avoid dealing with the feeling.

Steve is horrified at the suggestion, and immediately offers to wash Eddie’s hair for him. He also divulges that part of the reason he styled his hair the way he did in high school was because he played a lot of sports, and couldn’t stand the feeling of sweaty hair against his neck and face. Sure, he genuinely did want his hair to look good, but styling it up so it was out of his face was an added bonus.

Eddie’s hair is driving him so crazy that he says yes, especially once he realises Steve might actually get where he’s coming from.

Cue an emotionally tense shower, where both Steve and Eddie are stripped down to their boxers because they don’t want to this fully clothed but they sure as fuck don’t want to do it naked, either. (Spoiler alert, they’d both actually love to have a naked shower together, they’re just both too nervous to bring that up at this stage!)

But then Eddie slips while in the shower, still unsteady on his feet and learning to adjust to his bad leg, so Steve makes an executive decision to switch over to the bath. After a bit of manoeuvring they find a comfortable position to do this; Eddie sitting in front of Steve in the bath, Steve’s legs stretched out either side of him. Between the physical intimacy of having your hair washed by someone else, and the way they don’t have to look at each other’s faces as they do this, they end up talking. They get a lot more personal than they were able to in hospital or during Spring Break, and it’s such a nice experience that they’ll each happily put up with the sensory hell of waterlogged boxers.

Eventually - after Eddie and Wayne have moved into their new place, but Eddie and Steve are over at each other’s houses often enough that they might as well still be living together - Eddie can move his arms enough to wash his hair on his own. He’s gotten more used to his bad leg and can stand long enough to even shower if he wants to. They go about three weeks with Eddie washing his own hair, both of them desperately missing this little routine they’d built but not wanting to admit it. One day, however, Eddie feels so lonely and so tired from physical therapy that day that he asks Steve to wash his hair for him. Steve accepts in a heartbeat, almost before Eddie’s even had time to say the words.

It feels different that time. The energy between them is charged, everything feeling more intimate somehow. It’s so palpable a difference that after Steve runs the conditioner through Eddie’s hair to let it sit for a few minutes, Eddie turns around in the bath to face Steve. He takes a breath, trying to steel his nerves, and asks: can I kiss you?

Steve doesn’t answer him; he thinks the way he leans in and slots his lips in between Eddie’s is answer enough.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie ficlet #domestic steddie #charlie writes things #they are AuDHD4AuDHD in this!!!! they’ve both got sensory issues!!!!!#inspired by my own sensory struggles with unwashed hair #also in this universe eddie absolutely is disabled post-vecna and steve has hearing/vision issues due to head trauma #those things just don’t really come up #might make this into a proper fic if I have time/motivation

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alexa-nowak · 23 days

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I miss this man

And I miss my emotions after first time going through his story

The fandom is kinda dead but from my last post about him, I can see that I am not the only one who's soul is aeking for Julian

I want to ask you all, do you have any characters, stories or anything in particular that remind you of him?

I personally consider him quite a unique character, because his romance is basically "save a guy with a saviour complex" plus "love is not enough for healing", it was a pretty fresh concept for me, especially for the game genre being otome, you know, it rarely goes that deep

But I want to consume something to fill this void and maybe you can provide interesting ideas, feel free to share

#julian devorak #julian arcana #ilya devorak

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for assuming my friend’s boyfriend’s experiences with racism?

This sounds really awful but let me explain.

My friend and I (both 21F) study political science. About two years ago (we weren’t really friends back then) she got together with her boyfriend and they’ve been living together for some time as well. I never really liked him to begin with bc he has a very crude way of speaking and is just generally pretty overbearing. To be fair, I’ve never seen him and my friend arguing in any way and they are really sweet and considerate of each other so I don’t think he’s a bad person, just a little crass. We’ve never really seen eye to eye though so every time we meet we start arguing but it’s always been harmless and only half serious.

Now. The other day my friend and I met to discuss a project we’re working on and her boyfriend was there as well. We had dinner together and somehow the conversation turned towards experiences with racism in America.

For context: I’m black and my friend’s boyfriend is Chinese, I believe he came to the US when he was 16, so about 8 years ago. I don’t know much about his life before that but my friend has hinted that he had a really terrible childhood for various reasons.

Anyway, the discussion turned more and more heated and he said something I didn’t really agree with (I can’t remember what exactly but it was about racial discrimination in healthcare) and I said to him “I can’t believe you of all people would say that” (which I really didn’t think to be THAT crazy of a statement at the time). He completely went off on me, telling me to “shut my bitch ass mouth” with my western saviour complex and going on a tangent about how I knew nothing about his life and how he’d be a thousand times happier in the US than in Shanghai and how I’d be torn to shreds in China, especially the Chinese social networks. He seemed really upset to the point where he almost started crying.

After he was done yelling at me, he stormed out of the room and I left after apologizing to me friend who hadn’t said anything the entire time (which I don’t blame her for, she’s Norwegian and white and wouldn’t really be able to contribute something).

So I’ve been feeling awful this entire time bc I feel like I triggered him really badly or something but it was completely unintentional! My friend has been treating me like always and she told me not to worry but I don’t think I can stop that easily. I’m definitely going to apologize to him the next time I see him, even though idk if I should. So yeah was that really as bad as he made it seem to be? I’ll let you all be the judge of that.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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neet-elite · 10 days

Text

↳ EVENT 09. M!Robin (Jealousy Sex + Yandere)

Pairing: M!Robin / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,777 Warnings: yandere, somnophilia, dubcon, creampie Prompt(s): 06 — jealousy sex + 18 — yandere Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: oh robin you sweet thing. i love taking otherwise soft n gentle characters n making them do the absolute opposite lmao, so thank u for sending this request in mwah! i hope i characterised him well enough!

Appearances are hard to keep up with when he's got you in his life. Though, all things considered, he thinks he's done a pretty good job of keeping your dumb little brain unaware of his true feelings thus far— real self locked away behind nice smiles and sweet platitudes out of necessity. Placating you until it's a good time time to strike, to get his grubby manhandling hands all over every inch of you like he fucking deserves; especially after putting up with you for so long, his whole life as he remembers it to be precise. Childhood best friends turned hopeful lovers.

And yet, he's too late. Despite all of the patient solitary wanting, fist down his pants over your sleeping frame every night, watching, waiting, struggling not to touch your most sensitive parts as you lay unaware, biding his time by instead collecting items of affection from you unnoticed, just so that his selfish self doesn't come on too strongly and accidentally scare you off. Pining in secrecy because his intentions are anything but pure, and you're so fucking innocent to him, God.

Even after all that time of him waiting— you still run off with someone else.

To who? To fucking Whitney, that's who. A shared bully figure, someone so undeserving of your kindness it's almost laughable, if only he didn't need you more than life itself. A slap in the face he intends on returning in kind tonight, sneaking his way to your bedroom early in the morning, when everyone else sleeps— careful of the creaky floorboards, he remembers which one makes the most noise— to show his beloved all about what you've been missing out on. And, selfishly, to express some of his built up frustration and downright hatred he holds for the man you've been seeing behind his back this whole time.

Because he's not as stupid as he's lead you to believe. Tapping into your precious little saviour complex as a means to grow closer to you, feigning innocence in the face of your genuine curiosity, just to play the part of your loving, harmless, childhood best friend. And it's been working, too; that's the worst part. The fact that he was so close to earning his reward, creeping into your room with slow movements so as to not wake you from the obnoxiously old hinges, so close to having you that he can practically taste you as his frame hovers over your own sleeping one.

A regular sight for him, pants already tenting just from huffing the same air as you, holding his breath for a second or two too long just to accurately hear you cutely puff out a few of your own. God, he bets Whitney doesn't appreciate you like this, does he? Bending down, careful not to fuss over you too much because you look just so cute snoozing away like that, hovering his lips mere inches away from your own for the sole purpose of sniffing. Inhaling your delicious scent like it were a drug, and it might as well be from how dizzy with desire his head becomes, cock heavy and dribbling in his pants without even having to touch you.

Does Whitney get the same way with you?

Drooling over your sleeping body, greedy paw magnetic to his cock as he starts to tug on it just from hearing you snore, blissfully unaware but oh, you make such a pretty victim. Of his love, of course. His obsession with the way your chest rises and falls in the moonlight, fat beads of precum rolling down his length, dripping down his balls to leave him feeling all gross and sticky and in love. All pure intentions here, he privately assures you.

Too many countless nights have been spent this way. Yearning for you, craving just a single taste— knowing deep down that the first bite is always the sweetest; hence why he's been waiting so long. Here, have this freshly peeled orange slice, I plucked the section by hand just for you. Except, instead of dipping your orange juice soaked fingers down his throat, Whitney has had the supreme pleasure of tasting instead.

To which he physically cringes at the mere thought of, a full body jerk back, cock throbbing in his pants out of sheer jealousy for where your fingers have been.

He's only here to take back what is rightfully his anyway. What is, and always has been, his claim. Proven by the fact that his cock twitches for you now, how it drools just from being near you.

"Shit..." He curses under his breath, still pawing away at his hard bulge, aimed directly at you. Only the barely audible shuffle of his pyjama pants every time he jerks his cock filling the room besides your own steady breathing. And then, a smile stretched his lips. Wide and toothy at the way you so easily get under his skin, how even just watching you sleep is enough to get his cock rock hard and his balls taut with seed. Wouldn't you agree that this indicates fate? That despite your affair with some bully like Whitney, the fact that he's graciously accepting your unknowing apology means that you're destined to be by his side, right?

"I still love you." Despite your adultery, he continues to smile. Interspersed with rushed gasps and sighs, an honest attempt to keep himself quiet out of fear of startling you— but don't worry. He has a lot more planned for you tonight. Best laid plans that've been years in the making.

Although, he thinks so at least. The reality of the situation dawns on him as you lazily snore that by being this close to you, one wrong move and his lips are touching yours, he can't think straight. Torn between taking things slow like he'd initially premeditated, or— go in for the kill as his prey lays bare.

A split second decision, unable to stick to fully one idea, he goes for a mixed approach. Tip toeing his way to the other side of your bed; it's not the first time he's slept over, and he'll make sure that it won't be the last either, he quietly sneaks under your sheets to snuggle his body next to your. So soft and warm you are, hair tickling his nose for him to huff at. "Fuck," He whispers to himself, fist instinctively wrapped tight around his twitching cock, fighting the urge to brutally flip you onto your tummy and pounding your shape into the bed below as fast as he can. It'd be easier if he took his time, right? Played into the tired role of sweet best friend, his eyes rolling back in spite of his attempts to return to that mindset— he can't help himself when it comes to you.

"S'all you're fault." He continues to whisper, reprimanding your sleeping body in hopes of your dumb little brain subconsciously remembering his actions tonight. "If only— fuck," he accidentally rubs too close to the sun, hips stuttering as his clothed tip brushes against your ass. He has to take a moment to collect himself, seething behind you out of utter frustration, or love? They feel all too similar to him when he's in this state. That is, when he's next to you.

"If only you didn't choose Whitney."

Deciding it's now or never simply because he's leaking profusely inside his pyjamas, surely turning them sheer with the amount of affection he regards you with, he tugs his bottoms down. No underwear to follow, free balling by your side because he wanted to fuck you tonight. Take your first time together while you remain blissfully unaware, in the most pure state you could be in. That's when he likes you best. A soft, unconscious, unwitting participant in his declaration of love. And, if you by chance wake up as he's pulling your panties down, or as he leaks copious amounts of precum onto your pretty ass, or when he gently lifts your thigh up just a little, enough to allow room for his cock to slip between, or when he takes to gliding his red hot and needy cock between your slippery folds— holy fuck, that feels so fucking good, then he's certain that he can reel you back to his side by way of some stupid friendly act. A little pout here, an eager apology there.

Regardless of how you take it tonight, you're getting his cock. He's decided you deserve to know exactly what you do to him, anyway.

The second he comes into actual contact with your untouched by him cunt he halts his breathing. Slipping and sliding along your slit feels better than he could ever have imagined, all those lonely nights spent fisting himself silly over your sleeping face immediately feel wasted. You're telling him that he could've been rubbing his fat cock against your pretty little slit like this all this time, turning your tummy all sticky white rather than your cute kissable face? Shit, he feels doubly cheated now! Silently slithering an arm under your neck for stability, the other hand resting on your hip to lightly squeeze and pinch at to keep himself grounded enough to focus on how unfairly perfect your body feels against his. The feeling of your squishy thighs unknowingly squeezing at his length causing a satisfied sigh to escape him, heart full at the thought of your unaware and naive mind being eager to please him even in your sleep. Meant to be, right?

He'll show you what you've been missing out on. Why Whitney is the lesser of two evils. Why you should break up with your sick little play pretend boyfriend and start dating him instead, like he'd intended on from a very young age.

Because yeah, he's been wanting you ever since he can remember. Humping his fat cock up and down your slick pretty slit at the memories of growing up with you. How you've always be on his mind, number one in his heart. After all this time, he deserves a fucking slice too, dont'cha think?

But fuck if you don't feel better than anything he's ever experienced before, downright ruined his fist for future fucks, determined never to use anything other than your perfect angel cunt from now on. He always knew you'd feel amazing, fucking knew it deep down in his gut. But nothing could have prepared him for how nice it'd feel to simply slip between your folds, to knock his dribbling tip against your clit over n over again just to hear your pretty little sleepy mewls.

A small laugh escapes him at your meek moans, easily hidden between the sound of shaking sheets and your squelching cunt, his eyes squeezed tightly shut to try and determine whether you're more wet from his leaking cock, or because your lewd body just wants him as much as he needs you right now.

So, could you blame him from 'accidentally' slipping into your tight little hole as he thrusts against you? Tip caught on your entrance like a beg for more, all his prayers answered the second he feels your squirmy walls accept and envelope his drooling tip, and swiftly his full fat length when he can't stop his hips from driving forward.

Which must have woke you up, at least a little. A confused mumble falling from your pretty lips as his body stills behind you, cock remaining balls deep and throbbing, pulsing inside your warm little hole with sheer need to fuck you into his shape. Carve out your insides so that no one else but him will ever fit again, made perfect solely for him, yeah?

But, after waiting for what feels like for fucking ever, his whole body shaking under the amount of restraint it takes to not fuck you into next week, he doesn't hear another peep. Feeling your body once again relax in his greedy hold, lust driven mind convinced that you must be giving him consent to continue. Because if not, then what else?

Propping one leg up on his other for better leverage, he digs his greedy fingers into your plush skin. Really dragging his nails against you— not on purpose! God, you just— "Feel so fuckin' good, ah..." he whines to himself, pouting at the back of your head with an internal promise to fuck you better than Whitney ever has; or will, for that matter. Drawing his hips back so torturously slowly that he has to let out a low whine from how desperate he is, hopeless in how much he wants to prove himself to you, needs to fuck you the way you deserve so bad, and fuck when you moan in your sleep? All light and airy, a breathless promise that he's doing good, keep going, he can't do anything other than adhere to your wordless plea. Pushing his hips forward again with a little more speed, and then pulling back a bit faster, and then thrusting into you at a much more satisfying pace— one that already has the bed creaking under the weight of his love for you, cute little cunt hugging his cock so well— fucking bitch. Should have picked him, yeah? Maybe then he wouldn't be trying to mount your ass right now, throwing a possessive leg over your own to more easily hump himself stupid into your tight little hole, the way your walls suck him in further, sucking his tip off just so well, like you were fucking made for it—

And fuck if you don't fucking shut up he's liable to shove his slick coated cock down your noisy throat like you're clearly asking for. Cute muffled moans for him to drink up, his voice coming out breathless and whiny when he reprimands you with: "Havin' a nice dream?" God you must be, from the way your insides gush around his intrusion, bullying his tip as deep as he can to try and reach places Whitney has never touched before. Hoping to stain your insides with his scent to ward off anyone else from getting too close to you, nails dragging your ass back down to meet his every greedy thrust with a wet slap! of his balls against you. Mine, he thinks to himself. Fucking mine, no one else should even think of touching you, right? My pretty pet, my good girl, aren't you? He can feel tension building in his tummy with his thoughts, huffing and puffing above you like some kind of bitch in heat, determined to mark you up from the inside out. So that even if you do wander off again, you'll be so thoroughly dirtied by his cock that no one else will even want to touch you. Wouldn't that be nice? To have you come crying in his arms, upset that no one wants you; except he does. Maybe a little too much given how frantically he thrusts into you now, driven only by his selfish need to breed his pretty girl.

Tight fucking cunt, oh my God. So good for me, doesn't this feel good? Feel better than Whitney, right? Wanna fuck you every night like this, fuck, every morning too. Wanna keep my cock permanently inside your pretty angel cunt as a reminder of who you belong to, who fucking owns her, huh? This pretty fuckin' cunt, who owns her?

"R-Robin—?"

Oh shit, did he say that out loud and wake you? Fuck, he's cumming immediately upon hearing your sleepy voice, coated in shame and misunderstanding, muted by the pillow under your pretty face. He can't stand how cute and drowsy you sound while getting defiled, pounding his spurting cock into you with fat ropes shot directly against your cervix, some of it gushing out of your stuffed hole to stain your bed sheets. Sticky insides still squirming around him as he rides your ass out silently, as if remaining quiet will somehow hide his transgressions tonight. Except, they're not really transgressions, are they?

He's only taking back what was originally his. Making sure you know your place by his side by humping his load deep into your hole even after his orgasm dissipates. Small stutters of his hips, struggled gasps for air after holding it in for so long.

"Morning, love." He sputters, back to his regular chipper self for you, cringing at the way his cock grows sensitive inside of your wanting hole. How it continues to beg for more fucks, coaxing him into circling his hips while pushed all the way to the base inside. "Did you sleep well?"

#500 event!#ooough trying to get back into the swing of things w this writing #and by that i mean write “looser” yknow?#not worry as much #about being cringe n such #simply go with the flow worry not for the details #anyway this was fun yippeee :D #dol smut #degrees of lewdity smut #robin the orphan smut #dol fanfic #degrees of lewdity fanfic

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blackpilljesus · 6 months

Text

I've not dated or had close relations with moids in years. I've been on the path to spending the rest of my days as a single childfree woman & committing to it as an osawoman. During this time here's what I've learnt, shorter version here:

This lifestyle is a privilege - being able to exist without having to directly depend on a moid romantically/sexually is a luxury. Know the privilege you have and how you can take full advantage of it and keep yourself set. We arent living this way solely bc we're smarter, we were just momentarily luckier. Most women are a political/natural disaster away from losing everything. Bear this in mind; along the way think of "what if" to best start preparing yourself.

Dont bother justifying your ways to people - Most wont and dont want to get it. Save your breath. By getting into back and forth arguments over not marrying moids & not having children you are digging a deeper hole for yourself by giving them more fodder to counter. They wont change their minds. End the conversation short & move on.

You cant save everybody - Ditch the saviour complex. We all get dealt bad hands in life; some worse than others. Other peoples lives arent your responsibility, there's only so much you can do because you've got your own issues too. Besides some are too far gone, you'll only end up drowning or being burned trying to save others especially if they dont want saving.

Recruitment is a waste of time - I often see extensive discourse around this topic w/ some women trying so hard to recruit others into this lifestyle or being separatists, wgtow, etc. All this does is waste time that can be spent on building instead. If some women dont get it oh well it's not the end of the world (although every woman does get it, they're just doing what they can t survive) it doesn't matter long term TO YOU because if you're serious you dont need other womens understanding/stamp of approval to build a network/resources for women; you can get started without them; heck some may join once they see the value like how so many women broke up with their partners after watching the barbie movie. Some women are more focused on recruitment than living the single childfree life they claim to be about and it consumes them - dont let recruitment consume you. Besides other women willingly engaging with moids buys you some time; those who know - know.

Most activism is a waste of time. Things only change when it benefits those in power but they will never relinquish their power entirely. It's great to put knowledge out there for others to learn but getting into discourse having to justify yourself & being swallowed by your activism will do more harm than good. Most activism is a stepping stone at most for the next chapter of your life. Learn to game the system instead of changing the system.

Focus on yourself. Everything as we know it is rooted in the system that has been perfected over the millenias. The problems of misogyny, racism, ableism, etc have existed before we were born and will exist after we die (part of why im not birthing into this mess). Trying to change it is a losing battle. This doesnt mean dont advocate or care about anything but look out for yourself first & be comfortable learning to existing between the cracks. It'll be quite the exercise tho as we've been socialised to prioritise others.

This is not a lifestyle one simply chooses it's something that chooses you. This isn't for everyone, those who know; know. If you require a lot of convincing or handholding then it isn't for you.

It gets lonely. Not because of not having a moidfriend; even when partnered with them many women still feel lonely. It's because most women are moid centric / obsessed and would want to be partnered with an xy someday or already are. Very few women truly commit to or understand this lifestyle irl tbh. Even my moots who are separatists or just single & childfree are halfway across the world. However that said, many women in the community can also be toxic; holding each other to high standards and there being constant bickering. You can befriend moid partnered women but be careful with them. We're surrounded by the system, existing out of core elements of it will come with a degree of isolation but on the bright side there's also peace if it all goes well.

Less is more. The less you say to others the less ammunition they have to hit you with. Bragging about this lifestyle to our predators will only make things harder because they've already got a huge upperhand. Too many of us moving in one go will bring unprecedented waves we're not ready to deal with. See 2, 3, and 4.

Ignorance is not bliss. Completely cutting off from xys including knowledge of their evil will make you unprepared should a threat strike. Not understanding moids nature is how some women think things are as easy as getting up and walking away without considering security & other factors then get suprised when moids strike. I'm not saying drown in true crime & xy evil but dont stray too far you lose touch of reality. Side note this is why women are gaslit about moids nature so that they dont have the chance to effectively prepare. Stay informed. I constantly learn from the women around me. Pay attention to xy motives & tactics. The power they hold, possible moves they may play etc. You wont be able to know/guess everything but stay in the loop nonetheless.

You will make mistakes be prepared to learn

It gets easier to control your attraction to moids overtime (if you're osa) as your focus is elsewhere as you realise there is a more fulfilling world out there beyond marriage & kids. Also life is just so much better. I know most women want the fairytale prince charming or an angel nigel but it's just not happening. Especially in a world like this. The freedom to be able to exist as a person & not a slave/punching bag for a rape ape is BLISS. You get so comfortable with it you wont wanna be with moids anyway especially when you see what other women go through. (Side note this is why women are pushed to being with moids as early as possible so this level of enlightenment is never reached & instead all women know + become accustomed to is suffering at the hands of moids).

As time passes and you mature into this lifestyle you can tell who's new and who's got skin in the game. I wont elaborate here as it'll digress and this note is long as is but those who know; know.

There's so much work to be done it'll last a lifetime. This lifestyle ain't easy. It strays from the norm so the typical guardrails that come with traditional options are out of the picture. The good news is that you can spend time crafting your own blueprint to follow or share with others who are willing. There's such little in terms of infrastructure & resources for single childfree women and yeah xys will likely try to destroy these things but at the same time if it can be done go for it and bear xy threat in mind we gotta start somewhere.

A purpose/guide is important. It's something that's going to guide your life through the ups and downs because it wont be a smooth ride but it'll be something that can make you in situations that break you. This isn't a "fuck you" to moids directly, it's about ourselves. Seeing this lifestyle as some type of "gotcha" against moids will only make things harder and lowkey misses the point of decentering them. I have my reasons for never getting married or having children that are solid (if you need inspiration checkout r/breakingmom on reddit). True comes from seeing something as bigger than yourself; find a purpose in this line of life to keep you going.

Invest in yourself. Personally, financially, etc. Pretty obvious but especially now that you're going to be more alone you need to be able to count on yourself more. With enough investment it can help other women too.

Invest in female network. No gyn is an island. Even though I'm not much of a social person the friends I have make my life better; they've been supportive but also honest. Also support female centric spaces online & offline; they're all that we have lest we be banished to the silo prison of the "nuclear family" or exploitative misogynistic communities.

Get comfortable disassociating/cutting people off. If you want to survive some things/people will simply just have to go.

You arent owed anything from other women, but you dont owe them anything either. The operating word here is owed, I aint saying women shouldn't help each other - I'm saying dont feel entitled. The feminist "girls support girls" schtick is bullshit. We're in a cold world full of ruthless oppression where everyone is just trying to survive however they can; in many cases it helps women survive when they turn on other women instead of on moids. Solidarity works because those who have solidarity politically speaking are people with power, it works in their interest to stand & work together as to keep + maintain their privileges in society so there wont be much female solidarity as in many cases it's not worth it to women long run. It aint right but that's how they perceive it so watch your back.

Everything is political. Always remember this. Many (privileged) people try to downplay politics & its effect but it runs our world which is why they want you blind to it. Pay attention.

There's merit to being around like-minded women even if it's just online. Like I said before it gets lonely. Very few women are willing to face & accept the truth about maIes. Being around like-minded women can be depressing sometimes as they drop blackpills bitter than you can initially handle but at least you dont feel so isolated/crazy.

#i will update this with a shorter version later #female separatism #female separatist #radical feminism #radical feminist #blackpill feminism #feminism #blackpill feminist #wineauntmovement #feminist #single life is the best life #single life #wine aunt #childfree

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cult-of-the-eye · 3 months

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LEMME HEAR YOUR UNHINGED TMA RANTS! <3

Oooh I think I've already posted a lot of my rants but one of the characters who I haven't really had a whole rant on is Martin K blackwood.

THIS MAN. This man is so wonderfully written. A lot of characterisations of the "nice one" are quite flat and don't really expand much on them being nice apart from maybe giving the person low self esteem. What I love about Martin is how masterfully it uses that sort of prototype of a character and makes it much more gut wrenching and relatable. He starts off as sort of the office dunce from Jon's pov, which early on we also realise is unreliable. He's the bumbling idiot, the sweet fool and I get it. As a fat person, I feel like a lot of us feel pressured to be the comic relief or to put it more precisely, the one to be laughed at. And he's seen the gap in the archives, he's seen that role that needs to be filled and he's easily filled it. When you have the group of Tim and Sasha and then Jon, the only thing that could unite them is mutual awkward laughter towards Martin. And Martin is used to seeing what's there and filling the gaps, man is a people pleaser to a fault, he has had to guess what his mum didn't like about him and change accordingly, getting it wrong every time. He makes himself palatable which is so REAL especially for a fat person and/or traumatised people.

And then we see this more calculating side of him. He LIED to all his colleagues and his BOSS about a qualification to get a job and then kept that lie going for at least a couple of months. Listen, I don't think it's fair to label Martin as completely a manipulative calculating guy who's just put on a mask but it's also not exactly fair to characterise him as just a sweet, tea making guy who wears jumpers. And that's what I love about him. He's so complex. I feel like it delves into the idea of having both a saviour complex as well as an inferiority complex. He's had to make choices that are above his skillset early in his life and frequently, he's been blamed for causing other people's emotions so he naturally thinks he has control over how other people feel. Which gives him that sense of responsibility, like I can save anyone cause I can control their emotions, if I'm nice enough then they won't be mad/ill/sad/they'll love me. But at the same time, these sort of underhand methods of indirect communication don't resonate to him as causing any damage cause he doesn't actually think he's important enough to cause damage or have an impact on other people's lives

I don't think it's of any shock to anyone that my favourite Martin is angry Martin. It's the part that fights against both aspects of this inferiority/saviour complex because it 1. Is a path of direct communication. He has the opportunity to state exactly how he is feeling and the focus is on that rather than how can I get the other person to respond. 2. It recognises that he is important. Anger is in response to perceived injustice, frustration, annoyance and all of those things are in a way, self preserving. Obviously it's not good to do that too much (see: Tim Stoker) but there you go. I'm not saying angry Martin is perfect or anything but I'm saying that it's so satisfying and interesting to see cause it completely goes against the characterisation we've been given so far and it introduces a whole new facet to Martin - that he doesn't want to be ruled by his trauma and past experiences.

It's honestly a joy to see Martin develop into someone who fights more against the role he's been "given" while simultaneously playing into it. His whole Peter Lukas arc is very much a part of that. Essentially he's saying I'm not important enough to contribute the way you are (inferiority) but I'm still going to try and control things behind the scenes (saviour). So when Jon goes to save him it breaks that, he looks him in the eyes and tells him you, Martin K Blackwood are Important, you make an impact and you Mean Something. You don't have to save us all. It's such an important part of his character arc and honestly it blows me away every time I think about it.

Plus obviously the whole isolation thing is just so AGH it's just so built in to his character it makes complete sense that he has a tendency to isolate himself. It fulfills both the inferiority and saviour - he doesn't think he's important enough to be missed but also he feels like it'll push them into missing him. Solving the problem and putting himself down in one fell swoop.

Our final stage of Martin is one that is far from perfect, far from healed but absolutely closer than he was at the beginning. He shows more of himself, in working towards realising he makes an impact on people, telling jokes and just sharing his thoughts to Jon. So what does him stabbing Jon mean for this? Honestly I'm not entirely sure (I'm gonna be honest I did not realise this rant would be so long lol) but I'm thinking along the lines of this is an ultimate show of acceptance of his significance and rejection of his need to save people. He is committing the most direct act of all, he's doing this in the same need to help people but instead of being manipulative about it, he's just directly doing what needs to be done. But also he's not saving Jon, he's doing the complete opposite. He couldn't control Jon's response to the situation, as much as he wanted to, so he did what jon wanted. I might not be explaining this right cause I'm not entirely sure what I mean either but I'm trying to say it's a poetic end. It's separate from everything he was but in a way that's parallel to and pays homage to his struggles. He's still being sort of a saviour and he's still arguably not the most important person in this scenario but the point is that it's in a different way than he's used to. In my opinion, a better way.

Anyway yeah thank you for enabling me, I didn't know how much I needed this rant and I didn't know I had so much to say lol. <3

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #tma character analysis #character analysis #martin kartin blackwood #martin blackwood #tma martin #tma martin blackwood #answered asks

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1899sbiggestbabygirl · 2 months

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I want to expand on this idea in the future:

Dutch Van der Linde is the perfect analogy for the white saviour.

He presents himself as someone who believes in equality; however, he uses his progressive stand views as long as it's rewarded with praise, his support is very minimal (basically not being overtly racist) and receives praise over it, but is willing to overlook racism if it benefits him ( him letting Micah stay in the gang), his views are literally based on a privileged man pretending to understand the oppressed (Evelyn Miller, Lenny calls him out on this), he pretends to care and empathize with the structures of oppression but is very willing to exploit them anyways (the whole thing with the wapiti tribe).

at his core I think Dutch would see himself as a saviour -but the narrative itself shows who he really is, and what every white saviour at its core is: A fake hero.

Sure, Dutch's saviour complex and manipulation is evident with all characters, but to pretend that race or ethnicity doesn't hold a big role in how these dynamics work (especially on the time period) would be willful ignorance.

#with that being said rdr and rdr2 do have their white saviour moments #but in a way it functions more of a 'hey these guys are good despite the times' reminder than anything #rdr1 has that sherif american guy living in that mexican town... that's very white savour ish but eh...#anyways #anyone else got any ideas?#rdr2 #rdr #red dead fandom #dutch van der linde #character analysis #meta #rdr2 meta #txt

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httpstes · 2 years

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﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ Observations of the 22 degree in astrology 🫂 ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

The 22 degree is Capricorn ruled and so as such, will give Capricorn like traits to whatever planet it has grasp on. The 22 degree is known as the "kill or be killed" or "assassin" degree. Normally when I hear about this degree it’s most of the time negative, which in a way, is understandable. However having this degree in your chart shouldn’t make you scared that bad things will happen to you. The 22 degree can manifest really positively in a persons life but it can cause some hardships as well. All in all, this post isn’t meant to scare anyone who have these placements.

Warning: mentions of religious trauma, abuse, addiction.

I’ve noticed people with this placement, myself included, tend to be very restless.

There is a constant need to complete or finish something, but we don’t know what it is.

Many people in my life who have this degree in personal planets, especially on their sun, north node and ascendant, tend to have no idea what they want to do with their life.

They have a strong knowing that they have a mission or purpose in this lifetime but have no idea what this mission/purpose is.

People with the 22 degree on their sun go through either many ego deaths that help them overcome subconscious blocks that stood in their way, or have one long drawn out ego death that can last several years. This obviously can be seen as a bad thing, but the journey is worth while, and in the long run it is beneficial.

Venus in 22 degree may possibly experience a lot of abuse and misuse of power within relationships, physically and mentally.

Neptune in 22 degree may struggle with addictions and in worst cases can lead to life long damages to the mental and physical health.

Having Neptune in this degree also can tell you that you may struggle with maladaptive daydreaming and find it hard to break free from delusions and fantasies you have created within your head. This would be amplified if Neptune is in the third house or is in conjunction to Mercury.

Ascendant in the 22 degree may feel at times they want someone to control and fix their life for the better. These individuals may feel very tired from constantly being in control (in unhealthy circumstances they can be super controlling of everything in their life, sometimes the people as well) and turn to others to help let them rest.

Asc in 22 degree may funnily enough also have a saviour complex, esp if asc is in virgo/pisces. They could easily help others take control of their own lives and could be seen as the "stable” friend that is always there for everyone. Deep down they just want to be taken care of.

If the Asc is in contact with venus or has major aspects to planets in the second or 7th house, these individuals could rely on relationships to feel wanted.

What Asc and honestly Venus in 22 degree need to learn is that they are doing fine on their own, and while it is definitely more than okay to ask for help, they can learn the importance of being independent and standing up for oneself.

Uranus in 22 degree can result in someone who is unpredictable and could have constant change happening to them. The worst case I’ve seen where this degree has fully taken a hold of someone is in Andrew Tates chart 😭 Bro has a sagittarius sun conjunct uranus, both of which are in the 22 degree. Ofc if you have these placements it doesn’t mean your like him, it all depends on how you choose to let these placements manifest.

Venus/Asc in 22 degree may have low self esteem and don’t regard themselves as attractive . These natives are genuinely beautiful but they just can’t see it for themselves and tend to pick themselves apart ( this is esp true if venus or ascendant is in contact with neptune)

Moon at 22 degree may have issues expressing their more emotional and or feminine side. Depending on aspects, the sign, and where the Moon is placed in the chart, this could be due to childhood and environmental problems, where you may have not been able to freely express your emotions.

Similarly, Mercury at the 22 degree can indicate struggling with freely expressing your opinions and thoughts.

^This also goes for people who’s 3rd/9th house are at the 22 degree.

In terms of health, the 22 degree could show us where on the body we could experience pain.

For example a person with mercury at the 22 degree could have lung problems, Jupiter at the 22 degree could indicate dealing with kidney problems or pain in the thighs.

Moon at 22 degree could indicate having issues with the mother, same goes with sun (father) at 22 degrees.

Having sun or moon at the 22 degree could also mean that your mother or father exudes Capricorn like traits. They could be hardworking and focused on their career while providing for the family.

Mercury at the 22 degree could indicate having a speech impediment when younger or rather being scared to speak because of the way their voice sounds.

Mercury at the 22 degree can achieve a lot through their voice once they overcome self limiting beliefs that had to do with their voice/education. These people can make great singers, reporters, writers, literally anything speech related.

Saturn at the 22 degree could indicate having strong and life changing karma in this life time.

Saturn at 22 degree could also mean struggling to stick to a routine and finds it hard to do things long term, (relationships, career ect)

Ascendant at the 22 degree indicates having a sophisticated look and having good facial structure. Props to the cap degree ig

Mars at the 22 degree, esp if in contact with the ascendant, could mean you have a striking appearance. One that grabs peoples attention.

Mars at the 22 degree could also indicate being overly competitive.

Jupiter at the 22 degree can indicate a person who has had bad experiences with religion and or spiritual practises.

Jupiter at the 22 degree can also indicate a person who struggles to get back up after dealing with setbacks in their love life/career/academics/money ect. This is because Jupiter rules faith and wisdom and with the 22 degree here, it can make one easily spiral into their failures.

However through these setbacks that a individual with jupiter at the 22 degree can experience. They grow stronger and wiser, and eventually after dealing with these failures, nothing can really stop them.

Lilith at the 22 degree may find it hard to express themselves. Some individuals with this placement could be repulsed by provocative and sexual things but deep down, they just don’t know how to express that side of them. The other half with this placement could be actively seeking how to express their inner dark feminine but find it hard to connect with it.

Chiron at the 22 degree can indicate experiencing something traumatic and life changing . Whatever was experienced, individuals with this placement turn their trauma into something they can help prevent and heal others with.

Individuals with Uranus at the 22 degree could experience many troubles and go through bad things online.

Having a house at the 22 degree gives insight into where in life you may have a figurative death/problems.

First house: Dealing with insecurities about physical appearance, not knowing or understanding your place in the world, confused about identity

Second house: Issues with finances and money, over spending, could have a deep rooted fear of living in poverty and not having much money, this could be a wound one carries because of financial struggles when they were younger, self-esteem issues

Third house: arguments and fights could break out easily between siblings , disharmony between neighbours, disturbances in neighbourhood, school probably wasn’t something you looked forward to lol, educational problems, not thinking your smart enough, communication problems

Fourth house: Problems in the house hold, death of a family member when very young, scared of starting a family or raising children, disharmony between family members, home may have not been a safe/warm place for these individuals.

Fifth house: struggles relating to expressing oneself creatively, may find it hard to do or be involved in things that require creativity, issues with fertility and childbirth, may like to play things safe and not risk anything, short term relationships/crushes had some negative attribute to it, struggles with artistic/creative endeavours.

Sixth house: problems with coworkers, struggling to stick to a routine, not knowing what career you want to pursue, bad experiences at work, can indicate being either super focused on health due to paranoia or negligent of one’s health.

Seventh house: toxic relationships, karmic debts within relationships, not wanting to marry, troubles with business endeavours, could attract toxic people.

Eighth house: issues related to sex, scared of sexual related things, could have experienced gone to funerals a lot, near death experiences, troubles related to witchcraft and spirituality, superstitious.

Ninth house: religious trauma, constantly trying to find something to believe in, or could want nothing to do with religion, could experience troubles over seas.

Tenth house: death in career, fear of being viewed badly by public opinion, struggling with fitting into society’s standards, could have a very beneficial career that puts you into the public eye, problems with authority figures and the father can arise.

Eleventh house: not fitting in friend groups, could indicate having toxic and bad friendships, people with the 22 degree here may feel their manifestations and wishes will never come in.

Twelfth house: Having subconscious feelings of doubt and worry that set you back a lot, death related dreams, could dream a lot about death and or fighting for your life, could have a lot of people praying upon your downfall from the shadows bc they’re "hidden enemies"

Thankyou for reading

#astro community #astrology placements #astrology notes #astro notes #astrology community #astrology #astrology observations #astro tumblr #astrology 22 degree #22 degree #astrology degrees #astrology tumblr

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kamaluhkhan · 10 months

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maybe it's my fault

pairing: shuri x fem!reader

summary: lately, you've been feeling a ton of pressure, you're way too busy, and you're barely sleeping. life is taking its toll on you, but you drop everything to be with shuri when she needs you most.

warnings: angst! mention of illness and death (t'challa's, mostly). reader has a bit of a saviour complex. lots of plot w/ a little smut ;)

author's note: hi hi it's been too long since i've written a fic, but i just rewatched black panther so i decided to finish one of my drafts. this could be read as a part 3 to my other shuri fics, but it's wayyy more angsty than i usually write. also happy endings.....we don't know her! you've been warned.

you were in the kitchen, chopping up fruit for a smoothie, while sam and bucky were watching the news in the living room. you could only hear muffled sounds from the tv thanks to the lecture you were rewatching through your earphones, hyperfocused on absorbing as much information about genetic coding — the topic of your last exam before spring break — so it was easy to miss sam calling your name until he was practically shouting. you finally removed one earbud.

"yeah?"

“when's the last time you heard from your girlfriend?"

"i don't know," you answered, still mostly focused on your professor droning on about complex protein structures while you kept cutting up strawberries — and tried to keep your eyes open. you probably hadn't slept in 36 hours. "we've both been busy. why?"

there was no immediate answer, which you didn’t think much of until you looked up and saw what they were watching. in shock, you accidently let the knife slip, and it nicked your thumb instead of the fruit.

"fuck."

blood dripped from your hand, but your eyes stayed glued to the screen.

KING T’CHALLA, RULER OF WAKANDA, DEAD FROM UNKNOWN ILLNESS. COUNTRY IN PERIOD OF MOURNING.

you could tell from the way bucky and sam were silent that they were also overwhelmed with the news. t’challa was an avenger, a teammate — but he was also a friend. he was compassionate and wise and always made you feel welcomed, even when some of the elders disapproved of shuri dating an outsider. this hurt you, deeply, especially after losing so much of the team in the battle with thanos. but none of that mattered — all you could think about now was shuri….

you instantly pulled out your phone, and tried to call her.

it’s shuri. i’m probably designing better technology, so i’ll call you back with that.

you then tried the kimoyo beads on your wrist, but still no answer.

“i have to go.”

sam nodded. “just let me look after your hand first —”

“i’ll deal with it on the quinjet.” you ran to your room down the hall, and grabbed your overnight bag (thank Gods you hadn’t unpacked yet, even though you’d decided to stay over at Avengers tower this week). “i just finished fixing up the old one, so i’ll take that and you guys can still use the new one for your mission tomorrow. if i leave now, i’ll get to wakanda by morning.” or maybe midnight. or afternoon? there was also a time difference that you couldn’t quite remember. “i’ll call peter on the way, let him know what happened. can you tell the others?” whoever is left, you thought to yourself.

again, sam nodded. bucky mumbled a simple take care as you start to leave for the quinjet.

sam called your name, so you turned around before a few tears could escape. he brought you into a hug. you couldn’t help but stiffen, a reflex because of so many i’m sorry for your loss hugs you’d gotten used to. when sam pulled away, he put his hand on her shoulder, eyes sincere but sad. “it’s gonna be alright, kid.”

you really wanted to believe him.

shuri’s lab was all too familiar to you. there was something perpetually alive about the space: always people talking, inventions being brought to life, loud music blasting.

but, right now, it was silent. only shuri was there, designing something on the holograms and taking notes.

you hear her A.I. griot announce that someone had arrived, but shuri doesn't seem to care.

“i told you i did not want to be disturbed,” shuri grumbled.

“he made an exception,” you replied, trying to keep your tone playful.

shuri didn’t say anything and kept working. “did my mother call you?” she finally asked. “i told her not to.”

you moved closer to shuri’s workspace until you were right next to her, leaning backwards against the desk but keeping your eyes on shuri and trying to pull her attention away from whatever she was working on — a suit, you guessed.

“she didn't call me. i came as soon as i heard,” you answered, crossing you arms. “but i did talk to her and she seemed…worried.”

“there’s no need to be,” shuri said. “i’m fine. we had the funeral — it happened, it’s over.”

you uncrossed your arms, sighing deeply. “you know, your brother once told me that in wakandan culture, death isn’t the end. it’s a stepping off point. then, he told me that he believed, even if they’re gone from the physical world, the people we love never leave us. their lives aren’t over if we honor them, keep loving them.”

t'challa's thoughtfulness helped you after losing tony and steve, and it was something you wished you had heard earlier in life. something that gave you hope, made you feel a bit lighter when it felt like the weight of the world was crushing you.

but, hearing this prompted shuri to freeze momentarily, though she couldn’t bring herself to look you in the eye.

"i am not my brother.” she went back to working after that.

for a moment, you simply watched your girlfriend work. shuri’s hair was different — braids gone and shorter than the last time you had seen her. her jawline was also sharper and her eyes a bit more sunken, like she hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

when it became clear that shuri wasn’t going to stop, you turned around and focused your attention to the holograms she was juggling. it wasn’t a panther suit, but what looked like a deconstructed dora milaje armor that shuri was redesigning.

“you want this to fly?” you noted the thrusters placed on the feet of the suit.

shuri glanced at you briefly before enlarging the section in question. “yes.”

you hummed, reaching over to zoom out to a full view of the suit. “if you add small repulsors, the wearer will have more control over how and where they fly.”

“i was going to add something like that to the back.”

“i’d suggest the shoulders,” you said, tilting your head. “small, triangle shaped — kind of like angel wings. also, if you add reinforced plating to the shoulders and arms, you can redistribute the extra vibranium through the repulsor energy so the wearer can materialize a blade or a laser.”

“brilliant,” shuri mumbled under her breath.

you nudged shuri with your shoulder. “you would have figured it out eventually.”

“i know.” shuri leaned into you, a sign that she was softening. “that’s why it’s brilliant. i wish it'd thought of it sooner." she whispered the last part. there was a faraway sadness to her tone that made your heart ache.

you turned to face shuri, and gently put your hand on her cheek so she met your gaze.

"i think it's a sign that your beautiful brain needs some rest, baby." you knew what shuri was like, and based on your conversation with queen ramonda, shuri had locked herself in the lab for days.

shuri sighed, moving to kiss your palm before realizing the state it was in — freshly wrapped in a thin layer of gauze that you had bled through.

“what happened to your hand?” she questioned urgently.

“oh. nothing serious. just a slip of the knife.”

wordlessly, shuri brought you over to the medical bay and gestured for you to sit down on the table. you did, and shuri settled between your legs, using vibranium to heal your cut.

"shuri," you called after a few moments of silence, leaning your head down slightly to try and catch her eye. "you know i'm here for you, right?"

"i know." she finished cleaning the wound and wrapped your hand in a fresh vibranium-woven bandage. you wanted so badly to do the same — to wrap up shuri's grief, to protect her from pain, to help her heal.

"i mean that you don't have to, i don't know, act like everything is fine. we can talk about what happened — we can talk about t'challa."

"i know," she repeated, eyes finally meeting yours as she rested her hand on your knee. "i just....i can't. it's either i shut myself in the lab for hours or i think about my brother and want to burn the world down. and i can't...." shuri choked back a sob and her grip on your knee tightened.

you brought your hand up to her cheek, gently tracing the dark circles under her eyes with your thumb.

"well, what if we try another option?"

you spent the next few days in wakanda with shuri, ignoring your responsibilities in new york. most of the time was spent lazing around the royal palace, but with you shuri at least got enough sleep and food, even if you barely left her room at first. eventually, the two of you actually ate in the formal dining room. you could have sworn queen ramonda teared up when her daughter showed up again to share a meal since t'challa's passing. queen ramonda gave you a warm smile before the feast was served.

as you were walking back to shuri's room, stomachs full from a delicious dinner, your phone vibrated. you checked to see who it was: peter, texting to remind you of a lab assignment you had slipped your mind.

"oh shit," you groaned.

"what is it?"

"an assignment for my genetics class that i completely forgot about," you explained, rushing to open your laptop, which you'd left on shuri's nightstand after the two of you binged a few episodes of star trek (the original series). "one of our lab partners fucked up the results, so pete and i had to sort things out, but we've both been so busy...."

your phone vibrated once more, this time displaying an incoming call from jimmy neutron, your affectionate contact name for peter parker.

"i should take this."

shuri nodded. "let me help, yeah?"

considering how brilliant shuri was, you offered her your laptop without question. you paced back and forth, talking with peter over whether or not failing this assignment would mean you both failed the class, until shuri's voice cut through your conversation.

"why do you have a file with my brother's dna?"

you know exactly the file she was talking about, and it made you stop in your tracks to face shuri. you thought you were being too careful when you didn't attach his name to the file — but, apparently, you weren't careful enough.

shuri was sitting upright on the bed now, practically glaring at you as she waited for your answer. you tried to ignore your increasing heart-rate.

"pete, i have to go." you could hear him start to protest on the other end of the line, but you quickly ended the call. "well, we keep blood samples from every team member in case something happens."

hopefully your answer satisfied shuri.

it didn't.

"this isn't with your avengers files, though," shuri pointed out. you tried to grab the laptop back from her, but she moved it out of your reach. "and even if it was, you would have noticed something wrong."

"shuri," you warned, finding it harder to not let your voice waver.

"did you know my brother was sick?" her tone was harsher than before.

"shuri —"

"the samples show abnormal cell growth at an earlier stage than when i was working on a cure for him," shuri noted, turning the laptop screen towards you. like you, she must have spent hours looking at t'challa's dna to the point of memorizing its sequence. "so either you didn't notice that something was wrong, and we both know you're too smart enough to miss something that obvious, or — "

"shuri." this time, when you said her name, it was less of a warning and more of a plea. you did not want to go down this road. frankly, you were hoping you never had to.

"you knew my brother was sick and didn't tell me," she finished. shuri handed you the laptop and you closed it slowly, watching as she walked to the other side of the room before facing you again. "tell me that isn't true."

all you could do was bite back tears and hope the floor swallowed you whole. when it didn't, you took a deep breath and stood up.

"i can explain." you approached her, but she took a step away from you and scoffed.

"what's there to explain?"

"just....please." you walked back to the bed and took a seat. "let me explain."

t'challa intercepted you at your favourite coffee shop about four weeks ago.

it was march in new york, so hints of spring were starting to peak through the winter snow. you had back to back classes, but you always had time for a coffee in between.

the cold air hit you as you exited the shop, a drink warming your hand. you noticed him standing there: no dora milaje, no fancy suit, just t'challa. he wore sunglasses and a sleek black trench coat with a purple scarf, his silver necklace peaking out from the collar.

"t'challa?" you called, almost doing a double take. the two of you were friends, sure, and probably future in-laws, but the image of him waiting for you outside a student-run cafe felt too out of the ordinary. "is everything okay?"

he smiled softly, taking off his sunglasses. "of course," he said. then, t'challa did something that surprised you even more: he greeted you with a hug. as he pulled away, he added: "just in town and thought we could catch up. shuri said this was your favourite place for cinnamon lattes."

you shrugged. "my girl knows me well. could we catch up later, though? i have a class in...." you glanced at your phone. "right now, actually." you looked back up at t'challa, and something about how his smile faded away made you feel like this was more important. "you know what, i can get notes later. come on."

t'challa followed you to a bench nearby, scanning the area as you made the short walk. the two of you sat in silence for a few moments before you broke it.

"so, is everything okay?" you asked again, taking a sip of your drink.

"actually, no." he paused, voice low. you waited for him to continue, your heart beating fast as you tried not to expect the worst. "i'm sick, y/n."

"you're sick," you repeated slowly, letting the words sink in. "i'm....i'm sorry." you reached over and squeezed t'challa's hand. he gave you a sad smile in return. that was the thing about t'challa: he was always trying to put on a brave face.

"i need you to help me find a cure."

"of course," you answered instantly. you loved t'challa like he was family; you would do anything for him. but, something felt a bit strange about his request. "why not go to wakanda, though? i mean, i'd be happy to help, but the technology there is way more advanced than anything i could do in new york. shuri's lab has all the resources we would need."

t'challa shifted in his seat, breaking eye contact.

then, it hit you. the impromptu meeting, the uneasiness of t'challa's demeanor, the whispers as he explained the situation.

"she doesn't know, does she?"

t'challa shook his head. "she doesn't even know i'm in new york."

suddenly, you throat tightened and it felt difficult to swallow your coffee.

"am i the only one that knows?"

"you and nakia," he said. "i'd like for it to stay that way."

"but — but it's shuri. you're her brother and — and she can help us find a cure."

"so can you," t'challa countered. compared to your nervous stuttering, he kept his voice clear, measured. "you're studying biochemistry and cellular biology, correct? top of your class? my sister says you are almost as brilliant as her."

"almost," you laughed, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve before returning to your conversation. "t'challa, why not just tell her?"

t'challa reflected before responding, his eyes following a couple holding hand as they walked past you.

"my sister is happy," he finally said, turning to you. "i wish for her to stay like that for as long as possible. i believe this is the only way."

it broke your heart to know that, even as he was suffering, t'challa would do anything to protect shuri. you both knew what shuri was like: she would drop everything, go back to wakanda, spend many sleepless nights trying to solve this problem, to save her brother.

"are you sure?" you practically whispered the question.

"yes. i trust you can take care of this. in fact, i know you can. please, y/n."

his urgent tone, the sincerity in his eyes; t'challa was desperate, you could tell. this wasn't a decision he made lightly, to keep such information from everyone, including shuri. if you were the one he came to for help, help you would.

so, you promised keep his secret, to handle it yourself and carry on as normal. t'challa would return to his normal duties as king for as long as he could hide his illness. but, you set a term as well: if you couldn't find a cure within two weeks, when shuri went back to visit wakanda at the end of the month, t'challa would tell her and let her work to find a cure.

"one more thing," t'challa said after you had discussed your agreement. you were about to part ways, but you turned around when you heard him speak again. "shuri can never know that i came to you first. she's proud, my sister. if she finds out, she'd never forgive either of us."

you nodded firmly, but as t'challa turned to walk away, you called his name once more. you ran towards him and hugged him, tight. it startled him at first, just as you were when he greeted you, but he hugged back.

if you knew that was the last time you'd see him, you'd have held on longer.

over the next week or so, you worked relentlessly. you would've worked at the lab in avengers tower, but you knew you had more privacy at oscorp. occasionally, you went to class or had avengers business to take care of, but otherwise this was your life: rearranging dna sequences, examining blood samples, and mixing chemicals to try and find a cure for t'challa.

you came home one night, after hours in the lab. your only break was a brief stint stopping doc ock from robbing a bank. she'd managed to throw you around pretty hard — sleep deprivation made you an easier target, apparently — leaving you with a nasty bruise on your side. peter arrived to the scene just in time, and suggested the two of you celebrate with sandwiches as delmar's (where spider-man got a discount), but you made up an excuse so that you could return to the lab.

the apartment was dark when you entered, with only the kitchen light on, so you figured you were the only one home. you dragged yourself over to the sink to get a cup of water. you drank it in three gulps, and were reaching for another when you felt someone grab your side.

"fuck!" the cup fell from your grasp as you winced in pain. you turned around, too tired to even wonder if there was an intruder in your home, but met shuri's gaze instead. she was wearing boxer shorts and an oversized i ♡ wakanda shirt she'd gotten for you as a joke.

"shit. sorry." she knelt down to pick up the broken glass. you tried to follow, but winced again at the sharp pain in your side that prevented you from bending over. "don't worry. i've got it," she reassured, standing back up. "you've been busy lately. and pete told me about the fight with doc ock. you should rest."

you ignored her last comment. "i thought you were coming home late tonight."

shuri raised an eyebrow. "i'd say it's well past late." she gestured towards the clock on the stove. it read 2:27 am.

"right." between hours in the lab, with no cure in sight, and being thrown around by a scientist with metal tentacles, you were exhausted. it was the kind of exhaustion that settled into your bones, made everything feel heavier. not to mention the weight of the very big, life changing secret you were keeping from shuri....yeah, you weren't particularly in the mood to chat with your girlfriend in a dimly lit kitchen with broken glass at your feet.

before shuri could ask more about your day, you excused yourself to take a shower. you closed the bathroom door behind you, stripped yourself of your clothes, and hopped in the shower. you stood there for a few seconds, letting the warm water wash over you, until you were startled by the shower curtain opening.

"sithandwa, are you okay?"

"other than the minor heart attack you just gave me, yeah," you huffed.

shuri tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "are you sure?"

"i'm fine," you snapped. noticing how shuri's eyes widened slightly at your outburst, you tried again, your voice softer. "i'm fine."

you lifted your arm to close the shower curtain, but let out a strangled moan when the sharp pain in your side returned. shuri furrowed her brow at your reaction, until her eyes landed on the dark bruise forming under your left ribs. instantly, shuri joined you in the shower, fully clothed.

"you're not fine," shuri decided, placing her hand gently on your skin. "why didn't you go back to the med bay to have this taken care of?"

peter asked you the same thing when you parted ways earlier, but it was easier then to shrug off the severity of your injury. besides, you had to finish up some work at the lab. but here you were in front of shuri, completely exposed, no where to run.

"i...didn't have time. you can scold me later, okay? right now, i just want to relax."

you exhaled as shuri's fingers grazed your skin. with how preoccupied you had been — along with the guilt at hiding t'challa's illness from her — you and shuri hadn't been intimate in what felt like forever. it felt good to be close to her, for her to touch you again.

by then, shuri's clothes were soaked through, the white fabric of her shirt clinging to her skin, transparent enough to reveal her dark nipples underneath. you couldn't help but stare.

"like what you see?" shuri smirked. her fingers started trailing south, reaching your hips.

this made you roll your eyes, and you just had to smile at how cheeky your girlfriend was being.

"you know i do, pretty girl."

"hm. you said you wanted to relax?"

you nodded, and not even a second later shuri had her body pressed against yours. it sent a shiver through you, despite the warm water from the shower. she brought a tattoed hand up to your face, craddling your jaw.

"then relax," shuri whispered. she started placing kisses up your neck, and when she reached just below your ear, she added: "let me take care of you."

shuri gently pushed you against the wall, the ceramic tiles cool on your back. to your annoyance, she took her sweet time leaving kisses down your body.

"shuri," you whined when you felt her teeth graze one nipple while she pinched the other between her fingers.

"what is it, my love?" shuri pulled away from your chest. you knew she loved teasing you - something you mostly loved to hate. sex with shuri sometimes took hours: it was slow, deliberate, accompanied by an orchestra of laughter and moans and pleading (lots of pleading).

this time, though, she didn't even give you time to beg. shuri simply got on her knees in front of you. she briefly ran her tongue through your folds before tilting her head back to meet your gaze. "is this what you wanted?" shuri smirked when you moaned as she slid a finger into your cunt.

the shower went cold by the time you two were done.

you started drying off, carefully as to not further your injury. shuri left to put on fresh, dry clothes, leaving the ones she had soaked through in a wet heap on the floor. you were just slipping on your underwear when shuri returned, catching your eye in the mirror.

"what?" you chuckled at how coy she was being, hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"i have a surprise for you," shuri sang. she moved from the doorway to standing behind you, the two of you looking at the mirror. "close your eyes." you complied and felt a coolness surround your neck. shuri placed a kiss on your jaw, which made you smile. "open them."

you were met with the sight of yourself, top half completely bare except for a deep purple pendant around your neck.

"do you like it?" shuri gently wrapped her arms around your waist, eyes never leaving your body in the mirror, and you allowed yourself to melt into her. "it reminded me of the sky on our first date, and how beautiful you looked." she reached a hand up to trace the silver chain. "i was thinking i'd remake this with vibranium, maybe make it so the necklace holds your suit like t'challa's. you'll have to wait until i get back to wakanda to make the upgrade, of course."

at the mention of her brother and her home country, you stiffened.

"shuri." you exhaled and you turned to face her. "are you sure that you don't want to go back to wakanda sooner?"

shuri tilted her head. "why would i do that?"

"i don't know. more time with your family...."

"i've spent my whole life with them," shuri countered. "i'm moving to new york so that we can start our life together."

"i didn't ask you to do that — "

"don't push me away, okay?" she interrupted, wrapping her arms around your waist once more as though they would keep you in place forever. "you've been doing that lately, and i know you're busy, we both are. but, life is crazy and scary and unpredictable, and all i know for sure is that i love you. and i need you."

you wished you could return her words, as you have many times before, but the sentiment now felt empty.

it felt wrong for you to let shuri love you passionately, when you were being so careless with her heart.

you tried to shake away that feeling, telling yourself that keeping t'challa's secret was the best situation to keep him healthy and shuri happy - to protect both of them from any pain or suffering.

you told yourself that enough times, you almost believed it was true.

shuri looked at you now, and for the first time, you felt the heat of her anger targeted towards you.

"how long? how long did you know my brother was dying and let me believe everything was okay? how long did you lie to me?"

you took a ragged breath. "two weeks."

"two weeks?" shuri shouted. "i couldn't save him because i didn't have enough time to find a cure. you took that from me."

"i spent that time trying to find a cure, but....but i wanted to protect you, at least for a little while."

"no one asked you to protect me!"

internally, you kept replaying what t'challa had said: he wanted shuri to be happy, yes, but she could never know that he came to you himself and told you he was sick weeks before he told her. you wanted to honor the promise you made him, even as you now felt shuri slipping through your fingers.

you were never a quitter, though. it was your best — and possibly most self-destructive — trait. you tried to approach shuri, to grab her hand, but the second you made contact, she jolted away.

"my brother is dead because of you."

her words felt like a knife. you felt dizzy — there was no way to stop the bleeding, so you sat back down on the bed to ground yourself.

"i....i tried to save him," you defended. "after i first found out, i tried to find a cure myself."

shuri scoffed, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at you. "you just had to be the hero, didn't you? running around, wanting to save everyone. like you're the only one who can."

"i really tried," you choked. by now, you were holding back tears, feeling your head start to ache. you started massaging you temple to relieve some pressure, but it didn't work.

"and what kind of sick game are you playing, coming here pretending to be supportive? you're just feeling guilty."

guilty was definitely something you felt, but it wasn't why you came here.

you got back up and tried to approach shuri one more time, walking over to her slowly.

"i came here because i love you, shuri." your voice was softer than it had been before. "i loved t'challa, too -"

"don't you dare say his name," she growled, once again moving away from you briskly. "and i don't care if you love me, because i can never look at you the same way. we're done."

hands by your side, staring at shuri from the opposite side of the room, you almost couldn't process what she had said. she repeated her last sentence, this time a bit louder, and you shook your head as though to wake yourself up.

"shuri, please, don't do this. we're both in pain — "

"you have no idea the pain i'm in," shuri interrupted, and you noticed how she choked back a sob. "you can stop trying to be a hero for me. i don't want you. i don't need you." she paused. "not anymore."

to prove her point, shuri finally approached you. she tugged your necklace — the one she had so lovingly given you — hard enough for the clasp to break.

both of you were startled by the severity of her actions, how final it all felt. shuri looked, almost regretfully, at the purple pendant in her hand, but never met your gaze. she then turned away from you, the room settling into an uncomfortable silence as she waited for you to leave.

and you did, a few moments later.

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