#.they have their own strengths that they play to. And they want to play to them well

[kleopatra45]

Sun in the Houses of D9 Chart

1st House

When you have the Sun in your first house that partner must be one who helps you find your uniqueness and express it. This is a person who most likely knows they are right about something, firm in their beliefs. Something about them is very large, maybe even radiating and they might play an active role in your life guiding you to the realization of your own magnificence. Be ready for someone who tells you to be all best version of yourself possible, and respects your boundaries. Or mirrors — so that both the strengths and flaws can be reflected, providing a chance for greater awareness.

2nd House

Sun in the 2nd house means your future husband is someone who seeks stability and security, especially financially. Expectations will likely run high for loyalty and commitment, too, as they may either come from a place of strong financial means or be very good at managing resources. Can be the practical, pragmatic earthy side of a partner who appreciates simple pleasures and finds sense in building and curating comforts in your home. The may assist you discover your value, particularly in relation to self-respect educating you all about having a sense of worth in the relationship.

3rd House

A Sun in Third House — If you have your sun here, you will probably be drawn towards someone who piques your curious and communicative side. They could be a listener, a thinker or someone who enjoys the exchange of ideas and ideas. In this connection, communication is at the heart of who your partner will be, they will retain a razor-sharp wit and be inquisitive (even if it may seem challenging), and possess agility in being able to explore new directions. They might work in communication, media or educational fields and they will challenge you to be connected with the world. This partner provides enough of a spark to keep your mental wheels turning as you venture throughout life.

4th House

With the Sun in the fourth house, your compatible partner is likely someone who attaches great importance to kinship, heritage, and sentimental security. They may have a profound, nurturing essence, and they’ll probably bring warmth and solace to your shared domestic situation. This individual might have strong familial bonds or be intensely linked to their origins, and they will prioritize constructing a protected and loving home base. They're likely contemplative and emotionally astute, valuing internal development and a sanctuary-like area. With them, you’ll feel at home in your soul, as though you’ve discovered someone who offers deep, unwavering aid and foundation. Additionally, this person has the ability to connect with others on an emotional level through thoughtful discussion and a calm, gentle demeanor. While home and heritage are priorities, they also value personal growth through respectful, insightful exchanges that bring greater understanding.

5th House

The Sun in the fifth house indicates that your prospective spouse will be amorous, artistic, and playful. They'll add a spark of passion and enthusiasm to your life, and they're inclined to like art, self-expression, and spontaneity. They could be someone with a lively, childlike personality who exudes optimism and charisma. This spouse values romance and is prone to express it in dramatic or distinctive ways. If you want children, they may be very involved in your children's life, adding joy and excitement to family gatherings, or they may urge you to express your creativity through collaborative projects.

6th House

With the Sun in the sixth house, your spouse could be someone who exemplifies perseverance, resilience, and a sense of service. They could work in a healing or service-oriented field, such as healthcare, education, or community work. This person loves hard work and will most likely provide structure and support in your life, allowing you to keep healthy routines and balanced obligations. They are grounded and may have a quiet, unassuming nature, expressing their love through acts of service rather than grandiose displays. This relationship will most likely be one of mutual support, in which you collaborate to attain long-term goals and inner harmony.

7th House

The Sun in the seventh house indicates that your spouse will have a great effect on your life, most likely someone with a strong personality and leadership skills. They will exude confidence and may have a charisma that naturally draws people in. This someone may be highly motivated and accomplished in their area, even appreciated by others. They will look for an equal partner in you, with whom they can create a life of balance and mutual respect. Your journey with this person will feel like a meaningful partnership, with each of you learning from and growing alongside the other.

8th House

A spouse who enters your life with the Sun in the ninth house is likely to be mysterious, intense, and emotionally deep. This companion will provide transforming experiences to help you discover hidden elements of yourself. They may be highly perceptive and drawn to psychology, spirituality, or healing. Expect a deep connection that goes under the surface, where passion and difficulties help you grow together. This person may be financially resourceful, and they can assist you in managing shared resources. You'll discover the power of vulnerability and deep, heartfelt connection as you explore life's mysteries together.

9th House

With the Sun in the ninth house, your spouse is likely to value knowledge, philosophy, and adventure. They could have a broad viewpoint, possibly originating from a different background or having a strong interest in travel, spirituality, or education. They'll motivate you to grow and widen your horizons, allowing you to experience life from other angles. This companion could be a teacher or mentor who will inspire you to embrace your beliefs and spirituality. Together, you'll start on a lifelong adventure of learning, growth, and purpose.

10th House

When your Sun occupies the tenth house, it indicates that your future partner would be someone who is not only ambitious and industrious but also earns respect in their workspace. Such individuals are most likely to be career-driven wanting to change the world in some way and even take up an exalted position. This person will help you to fulfill your dreams and motivate you to think about the dreams in the far horizon. Such ambitions will be round you, and as important they will regard the joint legacy creation, with them, you will be able to achieve a way of living, which is meritocratic, and dignified. They can perhaps be the more level-headed of the two and, as a couple, you will forge an interdependent bond of respect, ambition and stability.

11th House

The placement of the Sun in the eleventh house suggests that the person could have a spouse who is reminiscent of a best friend- someone who resonates with their dreams and aspirations. Such a person is outgoing, modern, and may be engaged in some kind of organizational activities. A person like this holds friendship in high esteem, and this brings into the partnership cohesion and cooperation. This person may broaden your horizons or motivate you to achieve your goals. There will be common goals and values that will act as a strong foundation of your relationship, and you shall be happy in creating a world that integrates your uniqueness and the objectives you wish to achieve.

12th House

With the placement of your Sun in the twelfth house, it is likely your future partner will be someone with a very soft heart or perhaps spiritual or even enigmatic. Such a person may be involved in some self-healing or inner work and they will most certainly assist you in exploring the more obscure aspects of existence. This mate may be more suited to being on their own, enjoying activities such as silence, contemplation or creative art. They will provide you with emotional stability and tranquility, teaching you that sometimes it is necessary to turn within to appreciate one’s surroundings. You’d share a love that goes well beyond the physical level, towards greater principles of existence such as love, life, and the spirit. This bond will probably have an ethereal quality.

©️kleopatra45

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)

⊱ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair ⊰ || NSFW Alphabet (A-Z) Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化, Separate) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Sex-Specific Genitalia is Mentioned but it was Written with an AFAB Reader in Mind) Warning(s): 18+ Content, Virgin Asexual Author, Cum Eating, Facials, Minor Objectification, Cuckoldry, Mutual Masturbation, Face-fucking, Sexual Fantasies, Tickling, Praise/Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink/Creampies, BDSM, Overstimulation, Orgasm Control/Denial, Dumbification, Dacryphilia, Hair-pulling, Light Impact Play, Light Breathplay, Implied Cunnilingus/Blowjobs, Cock Warming, Mention/Discussion of Sex Toys… If I missed anything, please let me know! Genre: Headcanons, Smut (Minors Do Not Interact), Fluff Word Count: 7,200 words Request: “Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)” Author’s Note: I’m still very much working on getting better at writing spicier content, and I had no clue how to start writing these kinds of headcanons from scratch, so I went ahead and just filled out the NSFW Alphabet for both Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair as a jumping off point! It’s definitely interesting to think about how both of these characters would be in a sexually intimate setting, especially since – at least in my mind – they’d be quite different from each other in a variety of aspects even if they did have some overlap on a few of the points. I did my best to keep each of their headcanons at a similar word length (which was kind of hard to do with my Mr. Crawling bias, but I think I accomplished it haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

👣: Mr. Crawling is immensely clingy after having sex, holding onto you and pretty much refusing to let go as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck or your hair. While he doesn’t want to get up from the bed or leave after the two of you have been intimate, if you’re hungry or thirsty or if you want to go take a bath, he’s happy to go fetch you something to restore your energy or help you to the bathroom to clean up. He’s quite good at aftercare, even if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing counts as it. Mr. Crawling just likes making you feel good, and he wants to keep you safe and happy! His favorite thing to do is help you bathe; he enjoys the way the warm water feels on his skin while he washes your back for you. 

💉: Mr. Silvair isn’t too affectionate after the two of you are intimate, but he’ll check up on you and ask if you need him to get you anything. If your wrists were rubbed raw from the restraints he had placed on you, he would make sure to carefully wrap gauze around your irritated skin. If you were thirsty or hungry, he would locate something safe for you to consume to get your strength back up. If you feel sticky or gross afterward, he’ll carefully wipe your body with a wet cloth to make sure you are clean and comfortable. He lets you sleep and typically goes about his own business. Sometimes, though, Mr. Silvair finds himself watching over you to make sure you’re breathing steadily, carefully combing his fingers through your hair. 

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t have a favorite part of your body since he honestly enjoys every aspect of you but, if he had to choose, he loves your hands. He knows that they can hurt people and cause a lot of pain, but he loves the way they feel when you cup his face to softly caress it or whenever you thread your fingers through his hair. For himself, Mr. Crawling loves his hair the most (I know it’s not technically a body part, but I think it makes the most sense for him); he pretty much melts whenever you play with it, and his head is quite sensitive, so he blue screens whenever you pull at his hair or rake your nails across his scalp. I also feel like Mr. Crawling would be proud of his arms since they’re fairly toned considering they’re his primary means of getting around. Because of his impressive strength, despite what his thinner frame may portray, he’s able to hold you up and move you around with relative ease (he 100% can manhandle you, but only will if you’re cool with it). 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds every aspect of your body fascinating, and he could probably explain why each part of you was interesting from a medical perspective or that everything was pleasant to look at in one way or another. If he had to pick a favorite part of your body, though, he would have to say it’s your head (I know, kind of weird, but he does appreciate your intelligence and, well… Ending 06 is my other piece of reasoning haha). Specifically, though, he likes your mouth. He enjoys being able to hold your head in place while your jaw hangs open, all while he just goes to town while you drool and choke around his cock. Don’t worry, though – he’ll find some remedy to lessen the soreness you feel in your throat afterward. For himself, he’s quite proud of his hands. Mr. Silvair is skilled at many things, and being able to make you come undone with his fingers alone makes him feel a sense of power (plus, you called them pretty once, and it made him feel good). 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

👣: Mr. Crawling gets extremely flustered whenever he sees his cum on any part of your body, from your hair to your face to your stomach. The sight of it alone on your skin makes his brain short-circuit and body flare up – it only makes him want to touch you even more. He likes being able to clean you up, too, leaning forward before he runs his tongue along your body or face, making sure there wasn’t a single drop of his cum left on you (even if now it meant you were covered in saliva…). He doesn’t mind tasting himself, but it most certainly doesn’t compare to your flavor. 

💉: I probably need to ask you to stay with me on this one, but I think Mr. Silvair would probably keep your cum stored away in a sample tube or something along those lines, having a desire to run tests on it to see what he could create. Views your cum as a valuable resource in his research...yay? Maybe he could even use your release to invent some kind of lubricant since that’s not easily accessible in the other world and make having sex much more streamlined… or he just keeps it around to show you later and see your reaction to the fact he keeps your cum stored away in his laboratory to tease you. 

D: Dirty Secret

👣: The thought of taking you in public, in a space where no one but you could see him, makes his mind race and his body feel like it was on fire – this man can act like a feral dog sometimes. I mean, even you sometimes forgot he was there, unable to see his form unless you concentrated hard enough, so imagine if the two of you went out somewhere in public and he (with your consent, of course), just started touching you? Groping your ass, his face between your legs as he runs his hands along your inner thighs… no one can see that it’s him making your face flush and not the excuse of a fever you told the concerned stranger in the hopes they would leave you alone. When you half-heartedly glare at him to try and get him to lay off for a bit, he just laughs at your expression… how rude!

💉: Mr. Silvar wouldn’t be opposed to having a threesome with another resident of the other world. After all, he would be curious to see how differently you acted when another person was there with the two of you, or if your body reacted in an unlikely way if another were to touch you. While I will not write NSFW for Mr. Chopped (the power dynamic there isn’t my favorite thing in the world), he would be the one Mr. Silvair would feel most at ease sharing you with; Mr. Crawling or Mr. Hood would be his second and third choices respectively since he knows how deeply you trust them. He might not even partake in sex either, just sitting off to the side while he lets another use you like a toy. As long as you know your his, though, he doesn’t mind watching you enjoy yourself with another (he has to be there, though). 

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

👣: Mr. Crawling has absolutely zero experience with this kind of stuff, so he would need someone willing to walk him through the whole process, show him what you like, and teach him what and what not to do. What he lacks in experience, though, he makes up for in pure enthusiasm. It’s quite flattering how determined he is when it comes to making you feel good, even if it’s a bit sloppy and unpracticed. His thrusts are extremely unpredictable, never quite finding their rhythm… It’s alright, though; he’ll definitely get better with more time and the more he gets to understand what your body likes. You just have to give him the time to improve, and he’ll be certain to leave you breathless. 

💉: Mr. Silvair also has no experience when it comes to sex, or at least not any while he’s resided in the other world. He is a life-long learner through and through, though, and there’s nothing in the universe he’s not willing to learn about, especially if it has to do with humans and their anatomy. His thrusts are frighteningly accurate, being able to hit your most sensitive inner spots with ease to have you begging him to give you a moment to breathe. He’s an almost terrifyingly fast learner, too, being able to apply whatever new information he’s observed and gathered within moments. He can do it perfectly, too, and he does it in a way that has you questioning whether he was telling the truth when he said this was his first time doing anything like this. 

F: Favorite Position

👣: When it comes to favorite positions, Mr. Crawling loves being able to hold you close to him while also being able to see your face (he has to kiss you during sex – sorry, I don’t make the rules). He enjoys the rocking horse position since it allows him to be able to hold you close while still being able to maintain eye contact with you and easily have access to cover your face in kisses. While he prefers being the one making you feel good, Mr. Crawling would also enjoy the cowgirl position. He’s happy to let you use him to your heart's content while being able to look up and soak in the pleased look that’s plastered across your features while you slam your hips up and down on his cock. 

💉: Mr. Silvair personally enjoys the butterfly position, having you lay on your back atop his operation table all while he can watch and take mental notes on every single facial expression you make and every single twitch of your muscles while he drives you absolutely insane. He would also enjoy missionary, but he would spice it up a little bit by having your hands or wrists tied to something. After all, he doesn’t want you to touch him unless he says you can – just lay there quietly while he completely wrecks you with that annoyingly calm expression on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you touch him, though. Mr. Silvair simply prefers being the one in charge and determining when and where you’re able to feel his skin beneath your hands. 

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

👣: Acts goofy most of the time during sex, even if he doesn’t mean to. He likes being able to make you happy, and he finds your laughter to be music to his ears. Sometimes you two will be having sex, and he’ll suddenly start giggling completely unprovoked, just finding the experience with you so joyful. Being with you in any capacity makes his chest feel light and fluttery as a sense of giddiness flows through his veins. He’ll wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck, causing your body to spasm and tighten around him while his long hair drapes over you and tickles your skin. Overall, Mr. Crawling enjoys being more playful when the two of you are intimate since it adds to the overall experience for him. 

💉: Prefers to be serious while having sex. He treats the whole process of intercourse like one would treat a research project which, honestly, can make you feel a bit annoyed in some instances (Mr. Silvair still doesn’t quite understand why, though). He’s methodical in everything he does, and being light-hearted or purposefully humorous isn’t high on his list of things to do. He has no problem if you want to be silly, however. He finds it cute when you try to see if you can make him chuckle. It endears you to him more, and it makes him want to keep you around for even longer. The only goofy thing he does is gently run his fingers up and down your sides while thrusting into you, finding the way your body wriggles and writhes away from his touch to be adorable. 

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

👣: I think Mr. Crawling would have fairly long hair beneath the metaphorical belt. His pubic hair would be thick, curly, and a very dark shade of black. He doesn’t really keep himself groomed (kind of hard to do in his world, plus it was never a priority for him), but if you would prefer him to keep it trimmed, he’d be happy to! He doesn’t care one way or another. 

💉: Mr. Silvair comes off to me as someone who would enjoy keeping themselves groomed and their appearance well-maintained, and I mean every inch of his body. I think he would have either no pubic hair or pubic hair that was trimmed to be the perfect length. If he did have any hair below the belt, it would be a gray color, one that was a shade darker than his regular hair and wavy in texture. 

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

👣: One of the more human-like members of the cast when it comes to his affections; he’s as romantic as a non-human being can be. Mr. Crawling loves holding you close as he ruts into you like a wild dog, whispering praises against your skin. He even tries his best to learn phrases in your language so he can tell you how much you mean to him without you having to try and decipher it. He’s always so, so soft with you when you two are having sex. He’s honored that you’d let him have you in such a way, and finds your trust in him heartwarming – he trusts you, too, with his entire heart and soul. 

💉: Mr. Silvair canonically doesn’t comprehend the concept of “liking” or loving someone, so that also translates into sex with him. All he knows is that he finds you entertaining to be around and that he’s somewhat endeared to you at this point. He’s not romantic but, in between teasing you and making you cry (whether it be in frustration or overstimulation), he’s checking in on you to make sure that you’re still comfortable. He knows sex can be invasive, and he’s aware of how much regard the act is held in by some people in your world, so he does his best to respect that... Even if he does need to check himself every now and again. 

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them masturbates much because they simply don’t have a desire or time to do so. Mr. Crawling would rather wait for you to be there so you two can enjoy yourselves together, and Mr. Silvair simply has more important matters to attend to. That’s not to say they never masturbate, though, it’s just typically a rare occurrence. 

👣: Mr. Crawling typically masturbates by rutting up against something, like a pillow, rather than taking himself in his hand. His thoughts before meeting you were just focusing on the physical sensation of his cock sliding against the fabric of his clothing, but now he finds himself thinking of you – the way your voice sounds when you coo sweet words in his ear, the warmth of your body. Imagining your hands gently touching his chest and hips makes him cum right then and there, almost embarrassingly quickly… Yeah, he’s down bad. 

💉: Mr. Silvair treats masturbating as a chore. He’d much rather be doing something else than leaning against the wall of his operation room while his hand goes absolutely ham on his dick. He knows which areas on his body get the most reaction, so he purposefully presses all of his buttons just so he can be done with it quicker. This doesn’t change after meeting and getting to be intimate with you, though, he still sees it as a chore… Just now he imagines cumming on your face or inside you whenever he finally reaches his climax. 

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

👣: 

Mutual Masturbation: He likes spending time with you and doing things together, so why not spend some time watching each other explore yourselves? He likes observing you as you touch yourself, making mental notes of every spot on your body that have you biting your lip and furrowing your brows. While I wouldn’t say he’s into voyeurism since he does like being with you while you touch yourself instead of tucked away in the shadows just watching, he focuses more on the way your hands touch and caress your skin instead of focusing on the way he moves his hands across his body. Doesn’t last very long doing this, though, eventually pouncing on you and touching you himself.

Overstimulation (Giving): Mr. Crawling loves overstimulating you, even if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it half of the time. He just enjoys seeing you become a blabbering mess all because of him; he takes great pride in being able to make you feel good. However, the first time you started crying because he was simply giving you too much, he felt so guilty – the poor man was on the verge of tears thinking he made you feel bad. 

Praise Kink: While praising you is a bit more difficult considering the language barrier and the limited amount of words and phrases he has to choose from, he still loves doing it. Muttering against your skin how you’re doing such a good job, how he loves you so much, how you make him so happy. Mr. Crawling definitely makes sure to reassure you both inside and outside of the bedroom. 

Hair Pulling (Receiving): He loves, loves, loves it whenever you take his hair in your hand and give it a firm tug. Mr. Crawling enjoys it whenever he’s going down on you and you take his hair into your hands and push him even closer, making him become fully immersed in your scent and taste. 

Sensation Play: While Mr. Crawling may not enjoy more painful experiences, he does like general sensation play quite a bit. He likes the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin while you pepper his flesh with gentle kisses and nips. He enjoys tickling you while his hips sensually thrust in and out, feeling the way you squeeze around him as breathless and airy giggles escape past your lips. He loves whispering into your ear while running his tongue along it before taking your lobe between his teeth and lightly tugging.  

💉: 

Breeding Kink/Creampie: Mr. Silvair, after learning more about human reproduction, has a deep-seated curiosity regarding whether or not the two of you would be able to have offspring. That’s kind of what starts this particular kink for him – he wants to know if you both are sexually compatible in that aspect, and he is curious what the resulting child would look and act like if they were born in the other world. If you’re unable to give birth or get pregnant, even if his initial interest in breeding is certainly from a more scientific aspect, he still finds the image of you full of his seed while it drips down the curve of your ass to be quite arousing. 

Bondage/Shibari (Giving): He enjoys tying you up and pinning you down, being able to have full control over you in the bedroom. He’s perfectly content if you agree to light bondage, like having your hands restrained, and would never ask you to do anything more than that. However, if you trust him enough and feel comfortable doing some more intense bondage, he’s not going to complain. Would definitely be interested in the art of shibari, finding the way the rope looks pressing into your skin tantalizing. 

Orgasm Control/Denial (Giving): Another kink that feeds into his desire for control. Mr. Silvair enjoys being the one in charge of your release, and he likes seeing how far he can push you until you finally break and plead for him to let you cum. He loves seeing how stupid and desperate he can make you, sometimes with just his fingers alone. 

Overstimulation (Giving): Much like orgasm control/denial, he likes pushing you to your breaking point. However, unlike the previous bullet, he likes seeing how much stimulation you can take until you’re crying for him to stop. He thinks it’s fascinating, seeing how quickly your desire for his touch can change – one moment you’re begging for him to touch you, and the next you’re weakly pushing his hand away. He does eventually relent, of course, but only after letting you cry for a bit. 

Dacryphilia: There’s something about seeing your tear-streaked face that makes it feel like he’s just been hit with an arrow in his chest. It’s endearing and oh-so cute the way you look while you sob all because he’s making you feel that good. It makes him feel proud, in a way, seeing you in such a pathetic state all because of him. 

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

👣: He enjoys having sex with you on a bed (boring, I know), but he likes the softness of the mattress and the many pillows and blankets that can be used to bring even more comfort by keeping the heat from your bodies trapped. He also likes taking you in small, enclosed spaces, like an empty locker or cabinet (sorry folks with claustrophobia). Much like the reasoning with the bed, he likes how the smaller space forces you both to be immensely close to each other. Plus, these spaces bring him comfort, so why not mix the two things that make him feel safe together? 

💉: Either in his laboratory/operation room or in one of the many different cages or prison cells that he has access to (bonus points if you allow him to chain you up hehe). Mr. Silvair doesn’t need a soft mattress or pillows to enjoy sex with you. He’s fine taking you on his operation table or the cold concrete floor of the small prison cell, even if your back moving up and down across the ground rubs your skin raw. He’ll patch you up after, no worries, but he doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles to have an enjoyable time. 

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

👣: Sweet words and gentle touches. The other world is one full of violence and death, one where survival trumps all else. While there are entities like him who only resort to violence when either their safety or the safety of someone they’re fond of is in danger, it’s still not a happy or bright place to exist. Mr. Crawling does what he can to enjoy life, laughing in situations that probably aren’t even that funny just to try and make existing more enjoyable. Then you come along and make him feel cared for – loved – and safe, and he’s never been happier. Being able to lay with you, to feel you clench around his cock with your warmth while you pepper kisses across his face and let him know how good he is… Yeah, this is the life. 

💉: Power and control. He enjoys being able to restrict your movement, being able to dictate when and where you’re allowed to cum and, if you disobey him, he’ll punish you with a sadistic smile on his face. However, he would be lying if he said that was all. Mr. Silvair thinks the fact you trust him with your safety – your life, your heart, your existence – gets him going, whether he realizes it or not. Trusting another in the other world showcases how much two people believe in the fact the other would not do anything to purposefully harm them, and you feel that way toward him (and he feels the same toward you). Whenever you call out his “name,” the one you had given him, he finds his hips unconsciously moving even faster at the sound...

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👣: Anything involving pain would be a hard no for Mr. Crawling, both giving and receiving. Even though his senses are dull and what would be extremely painful for a human wouldn’t be for him, he still doesn’t particularly enjoy being harmed. When it comes to hurting you in any way, that’s pretty much something he will never concede on. He doesn’t want to do a single thing to hurt you, even if it’s an enjoyable kind of pain. 

💉: Pretty much nothing is off the table for him – Mr. Silvair enjoys experimenting, and that’s no different for him in the bedroom. The only extremely hard no would be coprophilia since he just doesn’t see the appeal nor does he want to test to see if he would like it or not. I also feel like he wouldn’t necessarily want a bratty partner or a partner who is constantly trying to take control back in the bedroom. 

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

👣: Loves giving oral 101%, and he will give it to you anywhere – in public, in private, while you’re sleeping (with your consent, of course). Mr. Crawling adores having his mouth on you, being able to taste every single part of you while his tongue forces its way inside you, feeling your release dripping past his lips or dribbling down his chin… You taste good, too, better than anything he’s ever had before; he might get addicted to it, to be honest. He eats you out/blows you like a man starving, wanting a chance to have a taste and make you cry out his name while you pull harshly on his black locks and encourage him to keep going. He’s very enthusiastic about it, too, putting in so much effort and energy to get you cumming on his face or in his mouth. 

💉: Prefers giving oral over receiving it, but it’s not his favorite thing to do either way. It’s nothing personal, he just prefers using his hands, his cock, or a toy to get you off rather than his mouth. If he does allow you to give him a blowjob, he’ll place a collar around your neck and pull on the chain if you get cheeky – after all, he’s the one in charge here. Mr. Silvair enjoys making you kneel in front of him, watching you with a small smile as you take him into your hands and pump once or twice before taking him into your mouth. If the rare occurrence happens when he gives you head, you better thank the universe. He looks so hot, holding your thighs apart while he slowly runs his tongue along your length/slit and teases you until you’re asking him to touch you more. 

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

👣: Enjoys the slower and sensual side of things, but he typically can’t control himself as soon as he’s inside of you, so he ends up being somewhat fast and rough (not all the time, though... his thrusts remain immensely unpredictable no matter what, and he never seems to find a good rhythm to follow). Mr. Crawling enjoys the intimacy of sex, and he finds comfort in the closeness of your bodies while you two are connected at the hips. He loves being able to hold your hands and place kisses across your cheeks. Sometimes, he’s so caught up in the act of showering you with words of praise and sweet displays of affection that he forgets the fact he’s currently inside you and is supposed to be moving. He does see the appeal of rougher sex, though – it makes him feel almost animalistic whenever you two decide to set the pace for the night. 

💉: Mr. Silvair can quickly switch between the two, sometimes almost at a break-neck speed, to the point it feels like you got whiplash from the sudden change of deep and slow thrusts to fast and somehow even deeper ones (he’s very precise when it comes to hitting those sweet spots inside of you – it’s actually kind of terrifying how quickly he can locate them). He pretty much does whatever he thinks will get the most reaction out of your body and acts accordingly – nothing more, nothing less. He tends to prefer rougher and faster sex, enjoying the noises the quick snap of his hips can draw out of your mouth. However, sometimes, he finds himself preferring a slower and softer pace. This way, he’s able to focus on and truly soak in the expression on your face and appreciate the way your body feels under his palms (this sometimes just leads to you cock warming him). 

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down for anything at any time. Pretty much, if you ask him to have sex, he’ll happily do it for you. Need him to eat you out or give you a blowjob, he’ll gladly oblige! After all, he is always pretty much kneeling, so he’s not being made to go out of his way to do it (even if he would go out of his way to please you). Want something more than just his tongue? That’s perfectly fine, too! There’s a private room over there he’ll gladly take you in, or maybe you’d want to try doing it in the empty locker? He’ll try not to take too long, but it’s hard since he loves being able to enjoy you to the fullest. So, Mr. Crawling can do quickies for sure, but he likes being able to take his time with you.  

💉: While he’s not opposed to quickies, he prefers being able to have proper sex with you to get the most out of it. After all, he can’t exactly see how long it takes for you to break or how much time it takes for you to start crying and babbling if you only have a few minutes to enjoy one another. However, he does make it a little challenge for himself to see how quickly he can get you to climax. Mr. Silvair will even make educated guesses on how fast you’ll finish just by making note of your current expression, body language, etc. He likes seeing how flustered you get if you think someone is going to enter the room the two of you are in, begging him to go faster which only makes him want to slow down – how mean! 

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down to experiment but, as stated before, he doesn’t want to try anything that causes him or you harm, even if pain is something you enjoy. He just has no desire to hurt you in any way, something which is quite different from other members of the cast who are definitely more sadistic (cough, Mr. Silvair and Mr. Machete, cough). I feel like he would be down to partake in certain aspects of BDSM, specifically B/D (bondage and discipline) and D/S (dominance and submission). He just wants to have a good time and be close to you, both physically and emotionally. 

💉: 100% down to experiment with anything (except the previously mentioned coprophilia). If you wanted to try some breathplay or impact play or even blood play, he’d be down for it. I honestly think he would enjoy breathplay since it adds more to the differential in power that he enjoys so much (there’s also a stirring in his chest when he sees how much you trust him with your life, but shhh…). Mr. Silvair is a man hungry for information and new experiences, so yes, he’s willing to try a variety of different things even if they could potentially be dangerous – he’ll always make sure you return to your original form. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

👣 and 💉: Both of them are inhuman, which means that neither of them need any food, water, or rest to survive. Honestly, the two of them have unlimited amounts of stamina, and they can go for as long as you need them to (which could be two rounds or even eight – nothing is holding them back in the stamina department). 

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them owns any toys because, well… you can’t access them easily in the other world. If they do end up there, though, they’re probably dirty or damaged beyond repair (please do not use nasty sex toys, people – infections and diseases are no joke). 

👣: Mr. Crawling would be down to use toys on you! After all, why not? It’ll just make the experience more fun, right? You’ll probably have to explain what he’s supposed to do with them, though, since he’s not quite sure what some of them are for. If you want to use toys on him, he’s completely fine with that! Want to wear a strap and give him backshots? Go right ahead! Want to tape vibrators to him until he’s whining and writhing? He’d be happy to oblige! Overall, he’s pretty chill about it and is somewhat enthusiastic about adding toys into your sex life. 

💉: Mr. Silvair enjoys using sex toys on you, some of his favorites being cock rings/chastity belts, strangely-shaped dildos, and vibrators. He loves being able to secure the variety of different vibrators he owns to your body, making sure to cover every erogenous zone he’s noted. He doesn’t typically want toys used on him (but he’d probably try out a variety of different sex toys on himself after a while, though, curious about how each of them felt or what they did), however, and the only one he’d be willing to use consistently would be fleshlights. He’d make you watch him use it, never once allowing you to use them on him. 

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

👣: Mr. Crawling is very fair, and he always makes sure to give you exactly what you want in the bedroom. However, that’s not to say he never teases you, he just doesn’t do it very frequently. Sometimes when he’s going down on you, he’ll pause his minstrations to nip at or kiss the fat of your thighs, keeping your hips held down so you can’t buck up against his mouth. When you start getting antsy, he just giggles at your expression before returning his attention to that oh-so-needy part of you. 

💉: If the word unfair was personified, it would be Mr. Silvair. I’d argue teasing you and making you cry – either because you can’t cum or have cum ten times in a row – are the aspects of sex that he enjoys the most. Edging you is one of his favorite things, though, watching you whine and try to move your hips on your own when he stops moving… bad move, though, because now he’s just going to make you wait even longer for release. 

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

👣: He’s not loud, per se, but he does make quite a variety of different noises whenever the two of you are intimate. He whimpers and whines frequently while you’re having sex – they’re barely audible, high-pitched, and come out sounding as though he’s completely out of breath. Sometimes you wonder if he’s in pain with the noises he makes, but he’s not. He just really enjoys being able to feel you like this as he pants like a dog in heat. 

💉: Completely quiet most of the time. Really, the only noises you’ll probably get out of him are barely audible sighs or the sound of his breathing hitching when he feels you stretch/tighten around him. It’s not that Mr. Silvair doesn’t enjoy having sex with you, he just doesn’t express that feeling verbally. You can tell in the way his hand squeezes the fat of your thigh or the way his hips stutter when he moves in and out that he’s having a good time. 

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

👣: Mr. Crawling loves taking showers or baths with you, though he leans more towards baths since it’s less painful on his joints (I headcanon that Mr. Crawling can stand, but walking for extended periods of time is painful for him – ambulatory wheelchair user Mr. Crawling when?). While yes, he can technically sit in the shower, having water spray his face isn’t exactly pleasant… He doesn’t view bathing with you as sexual, he just finds it relaxing as he helps you wash your back or you help him make sure all the soap is out of his hair. His favorite scent would have to be lavender – it’s very calming for him. 

💉: He keeps a journal tucked away full of terms and gestures from your world. Mr. Silvair has a deep desire to understand humans and everything they have to offer, even if he believes it's from a stance of craving knowledge (really, he wants to be able to express his endearment of you in a manner you can understand). He has a page on kissing and different kinds of kisses, a page on gestures of endearment, another on hugging and cuddling… The fact that humans’ bodies release a hormone whenever they simply spend time to bond with another socially, a hormone that turns the dial on their brain for whatever emotion they’re currently experiencing, is fascinating to him. 

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

👣: Mr. Crawling is tall – and I mean extremely tall whenever he stands up (my man has got to at least be seven feet), so I can assume that he’s probably relatively proportionate under the belt. I feel like he would be big, almost concerningly so, clocking in at around 8 inches in length. Even though his size is impressive, his dick doesn’t have much girth to it and is on the thinner side, but it is thicker towards the base compared to the head (not that you can take all of him – you can certainly give it a try, though). It’s on the veinier side, too, with a very distinct and present one on the underside of his cock. 

💉: Much like pretty much the entire cast, Mr. Silvair is also on the taller half of the height spectrum. However, I feel as though he would have a more modest, yet of course still impressive dick size. I imagine him to be 6 ½ inches in length and relatively thick from the base to the head with very little change in girth. Whenever you see his cock, you’re kind of awestruck for a moment because how can a man have such a nice-looking dick?? It doesn’t make sense! There’s barely any hair, there’s no visible veins or bumps, and it’s long and thick enough to drive you wild… Plus, it’s just really nice to look at, honestly. 

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

👣 and 💉: Okay, so I know others probably will not agree with me here… but I honestly don’t think anyone in the cast has much of a sex drive, let alone a high one. I mean, they’re not human, so their cultural/social norms are different than ours, and I wouldn’t hold them to “typical” human desires on a biological/psychological level either. As I said before, I doubt any of them have been laid because sex just isn’t something the residents in the other world partake in – they’re too busy killing/fighting others, eating humans who find themselves lost in the other world, etc. Is this my asexual and world-building brain working? Probably haha. 

👣: Mr. Crawling really only wants sex whenever you want it, but he’s always enthusiastic and does get aroused whenever you ask if he wants to be intimate. While he does love feeling the warmth around his dick whenever you’re clamping down on him, almost like you were hugging him and not wanting to let him go, he enjoys the emotional connection during the moment more than anything else. I headcanon him (and all of the cast, to some degree) as existing somewhere on the aroace-spectrum. For Mr. Crawling, I see him as being reciproromantic/sexual with an average libido – he gets riled up whenever you’re riled up, though there are times he does get horny without you needing to do or say anything.  

💉: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair will have sex if you ask him to – he’ll make you beg for it, though, so he’s not as nice as the former. He prefers the control/power he gets from having sex rather than the sole act of intercourse (not to say he doesn’t enjoy the feeling, though). Plus, he finds the activity interesting since he knows it’s something most humans partake in with one another for a variety of reasons, from procreation to recreation. If you ask him to have sex and he isn’t in the mood, he’ll just use his hands or some toys and play around with you until you’re satisfied. I headcanon Mr. Silvair as being quoiromantic and eegosexual with a low libido. 

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t need to sleep (you know… being non-human and all), but he’ll curl up next to you on the bed and hold your body close to his while pretending to sleep alongside you. It’s kind of adorable, the way his head is nuzzled under your neck while his legs and arms are wrapped around your body, holding you close to him like you were a bodypillow or large stuffed animal. While you sleep, though, he’ll eventually place his head against your chest, listening intently to the sound of your heartbeat and the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath. Moments like this, laying there with you in silence, make his mind wander to scenarios with you he’ll never be able to fully experience. 

💉: Does not rest often, finding it a waste of time that could be spent doing something else. He understands you need your sleep, though, so he lets you do it in peace after you both have had sex. Mr. Silvair always manages to somehow make sure you have enough pillows to keep you comfortable or blankets to keep you from getting cold (you can’t help but wonder where he finds clean linens in such a grimy place…). Occasionally, however, he finds himself sitting next to you on the bed, fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair before he pulls his hand back as though you had burnt him – he doesn’t understand it, and he’s desperate to figure out an answer. 

[meazalykov]

that's a wrap

alex popp x actress!reader

summary: you decide that it is time to become a full-time wife

in the golden glow of the los angeles twilight, you gaze out of your sleek penthouse window, the city sprawling beneath you like a living canvas painted with vibrant hues of orange and deepening blue. 

you have lived in this city for so long, your life woven into the cinematic fabric. from the moment you left germany as a child, your heart yearned for a stage—the bright lights of hollywood, the echo of applause, and the thrill of storytelling. 

you have become one of the most recognized actresses of your generation in the horror genre. an oscar at nineteen, an emmy at twenty-three, and countless nominations and awards have been attached to your name. 

with each role you’ve played, your name becomes tied to brilliance, embodying strength and vulnerability.

yet, as your career flourishes, an unsettling feeling begins to simmer beneath the surface—a whisper of change, a longing for something different. 

at thirty-one, you find a different kind of love is beckoning from across the ocean.

alex, your wife and the fierce striker for wolfsburg, has always been your anchor. mutual friends introduced you to her back in 2014, and due to your career you couldn’t take things seriously at first. however, alex always tried with you. you’ve been married to her now for four years, and its been the best four years of your life.

one day, when you came back to germany for a couple of months, alex wanted to talk to you..

“i’m thinking of retiring from international football,” alex says one evening, her voice steady but laced with a hint of uncertainty. you are nestled together on your plush couch, surrounded by the cozy warmth of your shared home. you sense the gravity of the declaration. 

football has been everything for her—the highs of goals scored, the heartache of losses, the euro wins (and losses), alex loved football more than anything (besides you of course). 

“are you sure?” you ask, searching alex’s emerald-green eyes, which are reflective with both spark and sadness. you remember the times you’ve spent watching matches together, the way she lights up at every goal and every tackle, the intensity that comes alive within her. 

“you’ve worked so hard for this.”

a small smile curls on alex’s lips, her fingers intertwining with yours. 

“i have, and it’s been an incredible journey. but i think it’s time for a change. i want to focus on the club, on my next steps, and… on us.” she pauses, laying her head on your shoulder. 

“the idea of retiring feels freeing, like opening a door to something new. but it’s a big step, especially with how much i’ve given to the national team.”

your heart flutters at her words. there it is—the dream of shared life, the possibility of focusing on each other more than your respective careers. but you feel a twinge of your own aspirations weaving into the conversation. 

in recent months, you have found yourself more and more drained by the demands of acting. each press tour and red carpet event feels like a weight; the personas you crafted for the cameras sometimes feel far removed from who you want to be.

your love for acting left years ago, but you’ve never talked about it. millions of people would do anything to have the success that you had, which is why you remained humble when it came to your career.

you bite your lip, contemplating your own path.

“and what about you?” 

you finally speak, your voice soft and contemplative. 

“i mean, i’ve been thinking... maybe it’s time for me to step back, too.”

alex turns her head sharply, a mixture of surprise and concern twisting her features. 

“what do you mean?”

you take a deep breath, your heart racing. 

“i’ve loved acting my whole life. since i was ten years old.. but lately… i don’t know. it feels like there’s something more out there for me. something besides just the next film or the next award. maybe i want to stay here, with you, in germany. support you full-time as you transition.”

“you love what you do,” alex reminds you, concern etched into her expression.

“i do.. i think,” you acknowledge, “but I don’t know if it’s what I want anymore. it’s all so noisy, and sometimes I crave the quiet—the kind I can have with you.” it’s a realization you’ve been wrestling with, the weight of your own dreams now intertwined with the desire to nurture the softness of your domestic life.

at the age of ten, you left germany to be on a famous 2000s sitcom in the united states. not much was known about you, since you were a child playing in a child’s role at the time. you were on the sitcom from the age of ten to seventeen. afterwards, you moved onto movies– which is where you started getting your name plastered with the huge box office hits. 

the following days with alex blur into a blend of introspection and exhilaration. 

you left germany, again, a month after the conversation you had with your wife. 

you are scheduled to appear on a popular late-night show in new york city—a platform that demands your presence but feels like yet another bolt of pressure in the timeline of your life. you look forward to it; yet, somewhere deep down, you wonder how your announcement will change things. 

the thought of standing in front of an audience—centering their gaze on you, waiting for your words—fills you with both excitement and anxiety. it always had. 

as the lights of new york glimmer outside the studio windows, you sit backstage, your heart echoing loudly against your ribcage. the host, a charming figure with a knack for drawing out emotion, greets you with warmth that feels strangely nourishing amidst the crowd’s overwhelming enthusiasm. 

once seated beneath the bright lights, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline, but this time it’s laced with purpose.

“y/n y/n y/n,” the host smiles, 

“the first time you’ve sat in this chair, you were 13 years old with the cast of that 70s show– you’ve dazzled ussince you were just a child. your transformative performances have captivated audiences worldwide.” 

the host stops talking as the audience claps, you smile, your hands held together in your lap as you sit in a nice black blazer outfit.

“but tonight, we hear you have some news that may surprise your fans.” the host says after the clapping died down.

you clear your throat, feeling the electrifying rush in your veins as you lean forward.

“thank you so much for having me,” you begin, the words flowing as if infused with years of pent-up emotion. 

“ it has been a privilege to do what I love for all these years, but tonight I want to share something personal. after woman of the hour premieres, it will be my last movie you will see me in.” the studio falls silent, the audience holding its breath in disbelief.

“after the film premieres, I will be retiring from acting for good.”

the reactions erupt—gasps, applause, disbelief—as you feel the host’s eyes wide with surprise. you smile gently, eyes twinkling with both sadness and liberation. 

“life changes, and so do we. for me, it’s about stepping back to embrace the next chapter—to support my wife, to explore new passions, to discover who I am outside the roles I’ve played.”

the host nods, admiration shining in his eyes. 

“that’s incredibly brave of you, y/n. how does it feel to step away from something that has defined you for so long?”

“it feels... freeing. and a little scary.” you let out a soft laugh, your heart now racing with vulnerability. 

“but I realized that life is about growing, about finding joy in unexpected places. for me, it’s about my family. we’re at the point where it feels right to re-prioritize what matters.”

your words resonate through the studio, and as your announcement settles, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. the claps and cheers from the audience feel like an embrace. 

this is your decision, not just for you, but for your love, for a future you envision filled with laughter, and quiet evenings.

as soon as the segment concludes and the applause fades, you are flooded with emotion. walking off the stage, you can already envision the life ahead of you in germany, around the comforts of home and the brilliant sun-kissed laughter alongside alex. no more LA, just wolfsburg where your heart belongs. 

you can finally imagine taking long morning walks, exploring new projects, starting fresh hobbies together—whatever you both like at that moment in time.

when you return home to germany that night, alex is waiting for you, a mixture of pride and adoration in her eyes. 

“i saw you,” she whispers as you embrace, her voice tinged with warmth that melts away the lingering uncertainty. 

“you were amazing, love.”

together, you sink into your beloved couch, the world outside shuttered in the nighttime calm. 

“i can’t believe you actually did it,” alex says, a playful rise in her voice. 

“you dropped the bomb.”

you laugh, the warmth blooming in your chest. 

“felt like the right moment.”

“yes,” alex smiles. you feel the flutter of excitement at the thought of so many uncharted territories waiting for you both.

“imagine how lovely it will be,” alex continues, taking your hand between her own. 

“to wake up every day without the rush of schedules, just life… our life.”

“with lots of dogs and the daughter we hope to bring in the next few years,” you tease, knowing the next steps you’ve discussed with your wife.

“how about we start with a little getaway to the mountains next weekend?”

“that sounds perfect,” you declare, her fondness illuminating as you share a kiss, both of you feeling free from the burdens that once held you captive.

masterlist

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

The Rivalry Born of Hatred-Jude Bellingham

The air was tense in the Santiago Bernabéu, the atmosphere vibrant as always when Real Madrid faced one of their most formidable rivals. But that night, there was a particular reason for Jude Bellingham to make the game even more interesting. It was not the match between Real Madrid and Barcelona, but a match between the two women’s teams, the stars of their respective rivals who were playing on the field.

Jude was sitting in the stands, with Vinícius and Mbappé by his side, but his eyes were fixed on you, who was coming out on the field with the Barcelona shirt. Your movements were powerful, elegant, impeccable. There was no doubt: you were one of the best players in the world, and despite Real Madrid courting you for years, you always refused, preferring to stay in Barcelona.

"My God, look how he plays," observed Vinícius, noticing that Jude’s eyes did not leave the field. " Who’s the one that keeps you glued to the screen like this?"

Kylian, who was also watching with curiosity, added: "Yes, it really looks like a war machine."

Jude, surprised by his own interest, rose slightly from his chair, his heart beating faster than he would admit. He didn’t understand why he was so fascinated by you. Not only were you a world-class player, but you were also his rival, the embodiment of everything he hated as a Real Madrid fan. Yet, there was something about you that attracted him irresistibly.

"I don’t care how good she is," said Jude, trying to hide her interest, "she’s the most hated player in our club."

Vinícius and Mbappé exchanged a look, smiling complicit. " Eh, but look she is looking at you too," said Vinícius with a funny smile, noting that you, in turn, had cast a sneaky glance towards the stands where he and his companions sat.

"Don’t say anything foolish," Jude replied, trying to hide a smile she couldn’t hold back.

The game continued, but Jude kept staring at you, admiring your agility, strength and determination. Every time you touched a ball, it seemed like time stopped. Your style of play seemed to convey an energy that he couldn’t explain, and he soon realized that he was paying much more attention to you than to the game itself.

When the game ended, and Barcelona won with a dominant performance, Jude couldn’t get you out of his head. His friends had noticed his gaze, and although he tried to minimize it, it was too obvious.

"You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?" Kylian joked, laughing.

Jude, a little embarrassed, ran his hand through his hair. "No," he said, but his voice was uncanny.

That night, when they were in their dressing room, Jude’s thoughts were only for you. He hated you, or at least he wanted to believe that, but his heart and mind were in conflict. He could not tell if it was the rivalry that fueled his interest, or if there was something deeper going on between them, an attraction he would never have imagined.

"Guys, I know I don’t like to talk about these things," Jude began, speaking to Vinícius and Kylian, "but... what do you think of her? That girl from Barcelona?"

Vinícius and Kylian exchanged another look, aware of what was happening, and Vinícius, with a mischievous smile, said: "Oh, Jude... you fell in love with your enemy, huh? But we understand you, it’s hard to resist her beauty and talent."

Jude chuckled nervously, but his smile died when his teammates added: "But you know she’s a Barcelona player, right? It won’t be so easy."

[meo-eiru]

MERU😭😭😭 i finally had a free moment to relax and the first thing i wanted to do was play hold your tongues and i've spent the last few hours pouring over how absolutely beautiful of a piece it is in storytelling and visuals. i genuinely have so much to gush over and idk where i should be doing it so into your inbox it goes. i apologise in advance, you also don't have to respond to this bc 1) i am aware it's gonna get vv long and 2) spoilers will definitely be mentioned

i hope sel knows what an absolute gem of a writer she is for executing all of this bc i am fucking gobsmacked by how well certain ideas and concepts were interwoven throughout the entire piece. maybe a lot of the things following are just my interpretations, but that's another thing i really really love — there's enough ambiguity in the prose to be able to infer it in so many different ways

first to the namesake of the game, ‘hold your tongues’ and the many connotations of tongues that are explored throughout; as symbols of liberation and entrapment that intermingle so so well. i feel like the game really delves into the struggles that women face in society, in relationships, just in general and i like how since it's done so through maelyn's own perspective, we're privy to a more complex and raw display of how deeply emotionally scarring it can be.

eric is a little bitch imo (i won't retract that statement ever) but the ever judgmental, taunting and superior tone he has as the ‘voice’ in maelyn's head speaks volumes of the character he possessed and the lasting impact it had on her. giving her dress to another man makes her ‘unfaithful’, the fact that it's emphasised that these are only ‘remains’ of a dress too — bc eric left her with shreds, physically, mentally. 

if we take the dress to act as a metaphor for maelyn herself, he left her in shreds.

in response to this, maelyn bites her tongue, so hard that it bleeds. it's restraint, quite literally biting back your anger and the feeling of being wronged. grounding yourself again to the harsh reality of it all, and it brings her back to the present moment when starling points it out.

we see a similar occurrence later on when maelyn relays her tongue ‘longing for a taste, was to be kept down.' so again, she stops herself (and i think the wording here is particularly interesting, that it was to be kept, so intrinsically this too may also link to how women are commonly taught to be submissive and forced to fit to certain standards). 

in both contexts, the act of biting the tongue can be taken as a suppression of some sort of desire — the first is the desire to be mad, and the second is the desire of lust. both which women have been criticised for through the ages.

i also like to think that the tongue is a representation of freedom. starling is very much making wings to fly out of them, and taking them away from ppl has ‘forever deprived of their ability to lie’ (in which case lying = freedom, i won't expand on this too much bc it'll be another whole essay😭) so going back to maelyn, her biting hers can also be seen as her freedom being hurt, prevented.

another thing is, the line just before ‘he never ran out of tongues’, we can take this as starling never having his freedom threatened. and it poses further questions. is this because of his strength? is it because he has the ocean ‘wholly’? is it because he's a ‘man’?

on my first run through, one of the most prominent questions i came away w/ was what was it that attracted maelyn to starling? to the concept of these monsters of the sea that had surpassed human constraints that had her waiting out all those hours to catch a glimpse of one to begin with. what was it that kept her coming back? time and time again, day after day when she could've not gone back to that shore after leaving.

the text narrates a couple of things that i think contributed, there's a sense of warring humanity and animosity in the repetitive motifs of dirt and uncleanliness, in her noting that starling looked ‘half a man’ and that one half could've ‘consumed’ the other. maelyn has an envy that's touched upon frequently. does maelyn want to be closer to a monster so that no one can hurt her? or does she feel like a monster is all she can be now?

then there's a dynamic with power that was honestly done so well. again, my praise to sel for how well thought out it all was. that part where she put her hand into his guts and he made sounds he was ‘unable to control’, another when she tells him ‘cut’ and he does so without question — she recognises she holds the reins in that moment, acknowledges, ‘in control, I breathed.’ 

starling listens to her for the most part, it's a reoccuring theme. even when making his wings, he's following her instructions although it's made clear that he learns quick and is capable. perhaps this gives her comfortability.

but we see this turn on its head when things start to go left, starling begins to do as he pleases and maelyn is taken back into her trauma, back to feeling ‘disgusting’ and ‘unclean’, she even apologises and promises to do better.

leashes are mentioned a few times, maelyn first describes them as a sort of ‘necklace’ — perhaps this is tribute to the way a woman's submission is often beautified and normalised. the ‘leash’ starling puts on her in one of the ends is made of pearls, he keeps it in his mouth before this. could this be a reference to eric's sweet words that bound maelyn before he revealed himself? starling ties it somewhat loosely ‘so she could breathe’ yet that doesn't take away the fact that it's still there. it has a sort of your cage is not small, but that doesn't mean you're not locked in it kinda feel.

there's so much more i could say but i think ive alr said too much😭 i didnt even get to touch on the cuddle ending which was my favourite, or the symbolism of losing fingers, the significance of the numbers two, three and four to the story. I DIDN'T EVEN TALK MUCH ABT THE ART😭😭 MERU SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED BUT THE ART WAS PHENOMENAL❗️❗️❗️❗️

maelyn is super pretty and i love how her and starling contrast each other in design so nicely. starling's expressions were stellar ++ the bgs and cgs were beautiful (you're right, if you didn't clarify it i would think you were behind the chest one haha). also the body horror aspect was really brought to life with the visuals and ik it definitely mustn't have been easy drawing all those organs, thank you for your service meruuuu

i'll shut up here before i write another 3k, but both you and sel did such a great job w/ this. the two of you deserve a nice break to rest so pls make sure to take things easy and take care of yourselves!! drink water and sleep when you can, and know that you've made a masterpiece♥️

OH MY GOD THIS ASK IS MAKING ME GO FERAL

It's so well written??? You did such a good job picking up the details hidden behind their lines??? I fish you continued writing because I for sure did not want to finish it and please do send the other thoughts you had if you can, I love this so much

I'm sure @celerifleuri will too so I'll tag her

You already mentioned the spoilers at the start but I'll also note it down here for people who haven't played the game yet. I'm sure sel will do a much better job answering your story analyses but I'll also say you're completely right with most things you've said.

The story takes place in 1800s with dated gender roles we unfortunately can still relate to. Maelyn is a curious woman who wants to study and experiment, but is being held back by society and even people who she thought she could trust, but again Sel will do a better job explaining those.

I'll talk about the art a bit. One thing I really enjoyed that was kinda unintentional on my part was the use of night and day.

The story starts at night time, the first ever cg we get of Maelyn is her jumping down the cliff, with the moon's reflection on her left and the waves giving an illusion of wings as she looks up, in that very moment she is free.

On the other hand the first ever cg of Starling is day time. The sun is shining brightly from his left, almost blindingly, as he looks down. His hair covering the screen like spider webs.

To contrast these, it's night time in the wood ending. Just like the first cg of Maelyn, we can see the soft moonight shining upon them but not quite reaching Starling's face. Maelyn is alive.

Meanwhile in the bone ending, even though they are underwater we can tell it's day time, just like the first Starling cg. We get to see a glimpse of them through the seaweeds covering our view, the sunlight showering them gently. Starling is alive.

For the character designs too, a bit of a reverse but I'd say Maelyn resembles the sun, meanwhile Starling is like the moon.

They both share green eyes, although quite different shades. Maelyn has bright red hair that contrasts Starling's red tongue tail.

I also like that Maelyn's hair, albeit a bit loosely, is braided and kept tidy. Meanwhile Starling's hair is usually all over the place and quite messy.

[d-z20]

Heavy Hits, Soft Touches

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You meet your rival, Rio Vidal, in the MMA championship ring, both of you determined to prove you're the best. Years of tension and unspoken chemistry finally come to a head in a brutal fight that leaves you both bloodied and bruised. But when the crowd fades and you're left alone in the locker room, you discover that maybe you've been fighting something else all along

- OR -

You and Rio have it out in the octagon but are flirting the whole time (MMA AU)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of violence/fighting, hurt (physical), angst, comfort, implied smut

Words: 2.9k

A/N: This fic is based on this request. No smut, but I am more than happy to create a fic that details just how you spent the night wrapped up in each other if literally even one person asks...

Have a gander over to AO3

The locker room is quiet now, the echoes of the cheering crowd fading into the background. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, seeing blood smeared across your cheek, the bruise blossoming under your eye. You press a towel to your split lip, but the sting doesn't bother you as much as it should. Not when your thoughts are still wrapped up in her. In Rio Vidal

Your rival. Your equal. The woman who's been your greatest challenge and your biggest distraction for years now. From the moment you stepped into the MMA circuit, she was there, always one step ahead, always pushing you harder than anyone else. You've faced each other in the octagon before, trading victories in matches that never failed to make headlines. The press loved to play up your rivalry, spinning stories about how much you hated each other. But the truth? You didn't hate her. You respected her. Maybe a little too much, because with that respect came an attraction you couldn't shake, an unspoken chemistry that lingered every time you met her gaze.

The problem was, Rio knew it too. She knew exactly what kind of effect she had on you, and she wasn't above using it to her advantage.

You had just faced her in a non-title match to drum up excitement for the championship in a few weeks. It might not have been the final tonight, but with the way you both fought, it could as well have been. You could still remember the way she'd looked at you right before the third and final round, her gaze burning into yours, a smirk pulling at her lips as if she knew she had you right where she wanted.

The crowd's cheers had faded into a dull roar in your ears; all you could hear was your own breathing, the pounding of your heart, and her voice cutting through it all.

"Don't look so tense, sweetheart," she drawled, her smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "You're not scared of me, are you?"

You glared at her, wiping the sweat from your brow. "In your dreams, Vidal."

She chuckled, low and dark. "Oh, you're always in my dreams."

Before you could respond, she lunged forward, throwing a punch that you barely dodged. The crowd erupted as you countered with a hook to her ribs, but she didn't even flinch. Instead, she grinned, her eyes lighting up with something almost feal. She liked this—you could tell. She liked the challenge, liked the way you pushed back against her.

You exchanged blows, neither of you holding back. Her fists hit like a freight train, and she was relentless, forcing you back against the cage. She pinned you there, her forearm pressed into your throat just hard enough to make it difficult to breathe. Her face was inches from yours, her smirk maddeningly cocky.

"You're not tapping out on me, are you?" She taunted, her breath hot against your ear. "I thought you were tougher than this."

You gritted your teeth, shoving back against her with all your strength. "I'm not tapping out," you snapped, your voice a harsh rasp. "Not to you."

"Good," she purred, leaning in closer. "I'd be disappointed if you did."

You twisted out of her grip, slamming your elbow into her side. She grunted, stumbling back, but she was smiling. It was almost like she was enjoying the pain, like every hit was a game to her. You went at each other harder, trading punches and kicks that left you both bruised and bloodied. You managed to land a brutal uppercut that caused her head to snap back, and for a second, you thought you had her.

But then she was on you again, sweeping your legs out from under you. You had hit the mat hard, the air knocked out of your lungs, and before you could recover, she straddled you, pinning your wrists above your head.

"Gotcha," she breathed, her grin wide and predatory. She was bleeding from a cut above her eyebrow, her lip split, but she had never looked more alive. "Still think you can beat me, sweetheart?"

You struggled under her, but she had you locked down. You could feel the strength in her grip, the way her body pressed against yours, and it had sent a shiver down your spine. You hated how much you had liked that—how much you had liked her like that.

In the end, she won. Barely. A split decision that had the crowd on their feet, the commentators buzzing about how you'd almost had her. Almost. She'd helped you up in a rare moment of sportsmanship, her hand lingering in yours longer than it needed to. "Better luck next time," she'd said, her voice low, challenging you.

You'd stared at her, every muscle in your body screaming in protest, but you'd nodded. Because you knew. The championship title was coming.

-

Tonight was finally the night. The championship fight—the one that would decide it all. The culmination of everything you've worked for, everything you've fought for. Five gruelling rounds, each more brutal than the last. You'd both won this title before, but you'd never faced each other in the finals. It was the match everyone had been waiting for, the one that felt like it was written in the stars. And you were going to fight like it too, like there was nothing outside that cage but the two of you.

The announcer's voice booms through the arena, introducing you both as the crowd roars. You barely hear it; your focus is entirely on her. She looks as fierce as ever, her dark hair tied back, a cocky grin plastered on her face as she rolls her shoulders, shaking out her arms. She knows the cameras are on her, knows the crowd is eating it up, and she loves it.

"You ready for this sweetheart?" She taunts, her voice carrying over the noise. "Wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone."

You smirk, stepping forward into the centre of the octagon. "I'm not the one who should be worried."

The referee goes over the rules, but you're not listening. You're too busy staring her down, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as you wait for the bell. It's the longest few seconds of your life, but then it sounds, and you're off.

The first round is brutal. You both go straight for it, no holding back. You know each other's styles too well; there's no feeling-out process here. She throws a quick jab, and you slip to the side, countering with a hook that catches her on the cheek. Her head snaps back, but she barely flinches, her grin widening like she's enjoying it.

"Nice hit," she breathes, ducking under your next punch and driving her knee into your ribs. It knocks the wind out of you, but you don't back down.

You grapple with her, twisting her into the cage. "Save your flirting for later," you grit out.

Her eyes flash, and she shoves you off with surprising strength, spinning you around and slamming you into the mat. She's on top of you in an instant, her hand gripping the back of your neck as she leans down, her breath hot against your ear.

"Why wait?" She purrs.

The bell rings, saving you from whatever comeback you were going to throw at her. The ref separates you, and you both stand, chests heaving, staring each other down with a wild intensity.

The second round starts off even more aggressive than the first, both of you refusing to back down. Your body is already aching, each movement a reminder of the last time you had fought, but you pushed through the pain. You can't afford to show weakness—not to her.

She lands a sharp jab, then a right hook that rattles your skull, forcing you to stumble back. Before you can react, she's on you, driving you into the cage with her full weight. The cold metal digs into your back as her forearm presses into your throat, pinning you just like before. Her face inches from yours, her smirk even cockier now, her eyes dark with something that isn't just competition.

"Déjà vu, sweetheart," she taunts, her voice a low purr. "You looked so pretty the first time I did this. I just couldn't resist doing it again."

Your breath catches, a mix of frustration and something you don't want to admit, burning through you. You shove back against her, trying to twist free, but she's got you trapped, her body flush against yours, holding you there effortlessly.

"Fuck you," you rasp, glaring up at her.

Her grin widens as she leans in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Is that a promise?" She whispers.

For a second, you falter, caught off guard by the heat of her words and the way her breath skates over your skin. But then the bell rings, signalling the end of the round, and she pulls back, stepping away with a wink.

The third round is a blur of punches, kicks, and blood. You're both landing hits that would drop anyone else, but not you two. You're too stubborn, too caught up in this unspoken battle between you that goes beyond the championship.

In the fourth round, she gets you in a chokehold. It's tight, and you can feel the pressure building in your head, the edges of your vision starting to darken. The crowd is on their feet, roaring for a finish. You could tap. It would be the smart move. But you don't. You twist, clawing at her arms, and somehow manage to slip out, rolling away just as the bell rings.

You barely make it to your feet, and she's right there, hands on her hips, shaking her head with a grin. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

You spit blood onto the mat, grinning back. "Never."

The final round starts, and you both go all in. It's a flurry of strikes, both of you too exhausted for any fancy moves. She lands a solid punch to your jaw, and you stumble back, but as she moves in for the kill, you manage to sweep her legs out from under her. You drop on top of her, pinning her down, your forearm pressed to her collarbone.

For a second, you think you have her. But then she bucks her hips, flipping you onto your back, her body pressing against yours as she traps your arms beneath her knees. The referee moves in close, checking your position, and you realise you can't get out. Not this time.

The ref's voice is distant, calling the end of the fight. Rio just managing to secure victory once again. She pulls back just enough to let you breathe, but she doesn't get off you right away. Instead, she leans down, tilting her head, face inches from yours.

"Looks like I win again," her voice a mocking whisper. "You gonna cry about it?"

You laugh, breathless and bitter. "Fuck you, Rio."

Her grin widens as she leans in even further, her lips brushing your ear. "Maybe later, sweetheart."

She finally lets you up; the crowd's roar fills your ears as she raises her arms in victory. You stand there, chest heaving, staring at her as she soaks in the applause. She glances back at you, a flash of something softer in her eyes before she winks and turns away.

-

You don't see her again until you're both in the locker room, alone for the first time. You're sitting on the bench, wiping blood from your knuckles, when she saunters in. She looks as bad as you do—bruised, beaten, but somehow still infuriatingly cocky.

"Aww, do you need a hand?" She asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but there's a glint in her eyes that wasn't there before.

You roll your eyes, but you don't protest when she kneels in front of you, taking your hand in hers and dabbing a wet cloth against your busted knuckles. Her touch is surprisingly gentle, and you look down at her, catching the way her gaze softens as she cleans your wounds.

"You fought well," she admits quietly, not meeting your eyes.

"So did you," you reply, your voice just as soft.

Her hands linger on yours for a moment longer, her fingers tracing over your bruised knuckles like she's memorising the shape of them. It feels so different from the fight—so tender that it sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the warmth of her hands seeping into your skin, and it's almost comforting. Almost enough to make you forget how brutal you were to each other earlier.

She shifts her focus, moving the cloth to the cut on your brow. You flinch when she presses against it, but she hushes you softly, like she's soothing a frightened animal. "I've got you."

Your breath catches at the endearment. It's the first time she called you that in this way, it feels different—like she's letting down her guard, if only for a second.

She looks up then, and for a moment, the mask slips. There's no smirk, no teasing grin—just Rio, looking at you for the first time. It's raw, and it makes your chest ache in a way the fight never did.

You swallow hard, taking the cloth from her hands. "Your turn," you say softly, gesturing for her to sit. She hesitates, like she's not used to letting someone else take care of her, but she sits down anyway, her expression guarded.

You crouch in front of her, your hands trembling slightly as you clean the cut on her brow. Her eyes flutter shut, and for once, she doesn't have a smart remark or a cocky grin. She's just quiet, letting you work in silence. you can see how exhausted she is now, how the adrenaline is starting to fade and the pain is setting in. You touch her bruised cheek gently, and she winces.

"Sorry," you murmur.

She opens her eyes, meeting your gaze. "Don't be," she says, her voice rough but sincere. "I've had worse."

You roll your eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "Of course you have."

She chuckles, the sound low and husky. "You're good at this," she comments, watching you dab at her split lip with a tenderness she doesn't seem to expect.

"I've had a lot of practice," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. But it's hard when she's looking at you like that—like she's trying to figure you out, like she's seeing something in you she hasn't before.

You brush her hair back, revealing a small cut near her temple. Your thumb lingers against her skin, and she leans into the touch, just for a second. It's such a small, vulnerable gesture that it almost breaks your heart.

"Rio," you whisper, her name falling from your lips like a confession. You lean in closer, pressing a kiss to her temple, and she closes her eyes, exhaling a shaky breath.

Her hand comes up to rest against your chest, not pushing you away, just holding you there, feeling the beat of your heart under her palm. "You don't have to do this," she mutters, but there's no conviction to her words.

You shake your head, cupping her face in your hands. "Yes, I do."

Her gaze drops to your lips, and you realise just how close you've become, your knees almost touching, her breath warm against your face. You're not sure who moves first, but then her lips are on yours—gentle at first, as if testing the waters, but it quickly turns desperate, hungry. It's like everything you've ever felt for her—all the frustration, the anger, the unspoken longing—boils over in an instant.

She pulls back, her forehead pressed against yours. "Come on," she mutters. "Let's get out of here; my place isn't far."

You nod. standing up on shaky legs. You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as she does the same. Without another word, the two of you leave the locker room together. The ride to her place is quiet, the air thick with anticipation. Every bump in the road sends a jolt of pain through your bruised body, but you barely notice. You're too focused on the way her hand rests on your thigh, a silent promise of what's to come.

When you get to her apartment, she unlocks the door and leads you inside. You both drop your bags by the entrance, and she turns to you, eyes searching your face as if looking for any sign of hesitation. but there's none. You reach for her, pulling her close, and she kisses you again—deeper this time, like she's been starving for it.

You spend the night together, wrapped up in each other, bruises and all. It's not gentle or slow; it's rough and passionate—the kind of release you've both needed for so long. And when it's over, you lie tangled together in her bed, your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart.

In the quiet, she runs her fingers through your hair, her touch surprisingly soft. "I guess that settles it," she chuckles.

You tilt your head up to look at her, confused. "Settles what?"

She smirks, brushing a thumb over your swollen lip. "Who really won tonight."

[moretheta]

ok i know i'm the 101st person to compare the phantom troupe and the heil-ly family, but with each new chapter we get more and more to work with & i'm chewing on it 24/7 like drywall. let's talk fatalism:

so first of all shoutout to the number one champion of this theory, my main man nobunaga:

literally idk if the guy is in a nostalgic mood or what, but he will not stop yapping about the similarities and for that i commend him & his service

for the record, phinks & feitan don't seem tooooo convinced. phinks specifically points out that hey, actually, we aren't amateurs like these guys and we don't have some crazy genocide murderscheme going on. this much is obvious in the way the PT reacts to luini's insane murderfanboying with "huh????????" *stab*

the phantom troupe do not want to destroy the world, nor were they designed to- they were designed for a very specific purpose and that was to create an environment (a web, hah) that could lure in the big criminals they wanted revenge against, while being dangerous enough to keep the petty criminals out.

these are two very different vision boards!!!

....that nevertheless share some strikingly similar imagery

and we find even more parallels in their respective leaders: aside from the obvious biblical resemblances, morena and chrollo share a similar outlook on life-- more specifically, a similar outlook on death.

more seem uncaring about their respective prospects of survival. self-preservation is such an inherently human trait- hell, a trait inherent to the living- that the lack of any such instinct whatsover is pretty damn terrifying. it leads to a certain kind of alienation from humanity that we know at least chrollo has felt (when he says shit like "humans are so interesting" like damn get your head outta your ass you are one of them). it makes them striking and scary and unpredictable. fucking brocco li points this out:

he's talking about the troupe here, but he could just as easily be talking about the heil-ly. because once again, the mafia is the establishment and the heil-ly and phantom troupe are decidedly not. the regular kakin mafia looks out for their own self-interests, which can lead to unchecked greed but is also what causes them to not go around murdering civilians just because they feel like it.

think of the loss in profits!!

now, nobunaga seems to think of the heil-ly as a sort of prototype- unrefined spider. when they're first investigating the heil-ly hideout, he says "maybe a switch was flipped when one of their own was killed," [see figure 1 above] which is a reasonable assumption to make considering his own experience. but when we check back in with the heil-ly...

their reaction to losing luini is "bummer," before immediately talking about what abilities they should develop to replace him. and in the second panel, when hinrigh kills padaille, the guys who are supposed to be his comrades just.. run away. later morena mentions that those same members are now leveling up to get revenge on hinrigh, but it seems like that stems more from hurt pride and morbid curiosity to see what they can accomplish with their shiny new powers.

these mfs are singing a "let's go hunt the mafia" jingle

big contrast to the way the xi-yu react to the death of lynch^

now both the troupe and the heil-ly are known to have fairly blasé reactions towards death and violence and general in the past. and that extends to their comrades' fights:

shalnark and co play cards while uvogin get leeches injected into his veins, or phinks & co stand by and watch feitan almost get his ass handed to him by zazan in meteor city- before he starts taking things seriously, that is. but i think that comes from a genuine respect in their comrades' strength. like everyone knew uvo could handle the shadow beasts just like they knew feitan could handle zazan. the heil-ly also seem to enjoy each others company and have a great rapport while chopping up dead bodies... but i think they don't expect much from their comrades in the way the troupe does. i mean, it's like phink's says: the troupe doesn't take on amateurs. everyone in the heil-ly is an amateur (except morena) so i don't think their laissez-faire attitude comes from confidence in their own abilities- i think they actually just do not care.

this whole exchange felt sooooo spiders-coded. which makes sense: i mean plenty of them are fans of the spiders! i think yokotani (the lawyer) was deadass trying to get an autograph lol

one thing to note is that when nobunaga attacks terebellum, he assumes the reason the gang hadn't shown signs of confrontation thus far was because they were convinced they were safe- that nobunaga and hinrigh couldn't get to them. i think that's only half the truth: when hinrigh throws a knife at this guy (the heil-ly's "organ" whatever that could mean) he just thinks "huh i wonder how long this would take to heal," before being saved by an issue of shonen jump. then he gets chastised for being reckless and going against morena's orders to keep his head down, but it's all very unserious. then everyone just kind of wanders off to do their own thing.

can i also just say i was getting from real uvogin vibes from terebellum over here

again, i can't really make any blanket statements with information we have available. but my current outlook is that the biggest difference between the spiders and the heil-ly right now is that the heil-ly is what chrollo had initially envisioned for the troupe: remember the "i am the head but i don't matter and you shouldn't make choices with my life in mind" speech? i think this is what that would look like. we know that (up until yorknew), chrollo truly believed that everyone saw the spiders as he did. that he would have no value as a hostage. that they would all be able to accept his death and move on:

and this turned out to be a fatal flaw.

the levels of cognitive dissonance going on during this whole exchange...

he was soooo in hhis head about being above humanity in his own little conceptual space where life and death don't matter that he forgot to look around and realize not everyone was there with him.

there were some, like phinks, who were in line with chrollo's philiosophy. kudos to them ig. but there were enough people who wanted to keep their friend alive- and are still working their asses off to do so today!- that his plan failed. pakunoda chief among them god rest her soul. this moment was one of the first dominos that sent into into the downward spiral he's on today. because after all he invested in the spider, all he gave up for it, it's web is slowly but surely falling apart. he is losing one lifelong member after another in events he is either powerless to stop or has a direct hand in. the ethos that kept him in this purgatory where he could temporarily transcend pain and guilt and humanity is unravelling, and the people he loves (not all of them, at least) don't share in it, and if that's the case then they've been suffering all this time. and if that's the case then what the hell has he been doing, and what the hell is the point.

so now he's stuck on a ship with a group of people that are like his own but worse (and younger and stupider g'bless) lead by someone who's like him but at peace. (and also probably worse lol). having a breakdown because people might love him. also he's trying to steal a national treasure because this is a nic cage movie apparently hey how many words is this post again

TLDR; chrollo is loosing the idgaf war

[anistarrose]

Saw a post that I do agree with — about how moving your activism primarily offline and engaging with people in real life is so much more impactful than angrily riding your horse into another round of online discourse, especially now. But at the same time, I want people — especially disabled people, and otherwise involuntarily isolated-feeling people — to know that there is activism you can do online, or otherwise from your home, that's different from reblogging a snarky post, and more impactful too.

The example I'm always obligated to talk about is online accessibility, and especially, writing image descriptions — an act that both directly makes posts more accessible to blind and low-vision screen reader users, and raises awareness of image descriptions to promote accessibility indirectly but in the long-term. This is disability activism; it is making a previously inaccessible space accessible and implanting disability accommodations at the forefront of people's brains.

As a chronically ill autistic person, the barriers to getting involved IRL are hopefully surmountable in my personal case, but not easily or quickly surmountable. However, the barriers to me writing image descriptions are much lower — and in fact, as a disabled person myself, I'm passionate about the topic, and that makes it easier for me to focus on. I subscribe to the burnout-prevention advice to make a list of a very few issues, tailored to your strengths, that you pledge to put your whole ass into, with a less selective list of issues you can pledge to do a little bit about when you have the resources.

Image descriptions are my personal Whole Ass Into It issue. They are, quite simply, the action I am personally best-equipped to take to make the world a tiny bit less shit.

And it might not be that kind of issue for you! I desperately want people to be aware of the possibility, but it may not play to your strengths — or, it may fit better as an issue you can make occasional contributions to without focusing on. (What might occasional contributions look like? Maybe just describing your own posts, and getting in the habit of checking the notes for IDs when you're on Tumblr. Or maybe just choosing one type of image to always describe that feels manageable for you — screenshotted tweets, maybe.)

But maybe you're not the best at interpreting images, and it would better play to your strengths to write transcripts! Maybe typing is tiring for you, or social media is bad for your mental health, but leaving the house still has barriers, so you find an opportunity to phone bank for a particular issue! Maybe you volunteer with a voter registration help line, next election. Maybe you stay on Tumblr but you adopt a fundraiser, or join a charity zine. Maybe you need to garden very slowly and steadily, to take care of your body, but you can grow some native plants, and strike up conversations with your neighbors about it, if you get the chance.

At the end of the day, I think two things can be simultaneously true: getting involved offline can be contextually much more plausible than a lot of people realize, and it can still have barriers for people with certain disabilities or other circumstances, while people lacking those circumstances may not notice. Luckily, there's no one mold for what activism looks like. Analyze your strengths, treat your limitations with compassion, and get creative about how to help.

[aprito]

sasori is sakura's government assignent manlet villain that was created exclusively to showcase her improvement and character growth. here are my points in no particular order:

students with famous mentors who share a common past (tsunade/chiyo)

having a common figure one wanted to protect (barely knowing them) and one wanted to destroy (knowing them their whole life)

being an extension of their mentors

sakura's other mentor being the son of sasori's parents' killer

the only person aiding sakura coincidentally being the only person sasori is related to

sakura's super strength being the only thing that successfully breaks sasori out of hiruko's body and also the only reason the third is destroyed (something that never happened before)

sasori's impossibly complicated poison being combated by sakura in minutes, the antidote being repurposed as a buff (so we know she can do that)

sakura being able to figure out sasori's fighting pattern in minutes (so we know she can do that)

sasori's fighting style used to show sakura's quick reflexes (so we know she can do that)

being the first and last two people he has every needed to resort using his best weapon (himself) on

knowing both orochimaru and kabuto (one's info used as a central reward for the other)

fighting sasori showcases sakura protecting ppl that aren't in her immediately circle (chiyo)

sakura openly questioning a villain on their humanity and their logic (something she hasnt been able to do on her own, so we know she can do that)

sasori and sakura both having silly season related names

sasori and sakura both having a blonde with bangs companion whom they do not respect enough and also happen to share their sister signs with

only fight that she was involved in and did not have interrupted or taken over by other team 7 members

and last but not least the playing field being leveled by having next to no prestigious bloodline abilities or super buffs involved. everything sasori threw at them was in some way countered by chiyo-sakura

and that was what? 20 years after the fact? PEAK. exactly

[urdreamydoodles]

MCU Characters x Reader (Part.2)

How they react when you are angry with them (Part.2)

Characters: Loki Laufeyson, T'Challa, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Scott Lang, Wade Wilson, Logan Howlett, Matt Murdock & Frank Castle

Loki Laufeyson

- When Loki senses your anger, his reaction is one of mild panic hidden behind a mask of indifference. He’s not used to dealing with his emotions head-on, so he may initially act dismissive, trying to pretend it doesn’t bother him. But as the tension lingers, he realizes he can’t stand the thought of you being upset with him, and he knows he’ll have to address it.

- Loki’s first attempt to make amends is usually manipulative charm. He’ll try to win you over with clever words, even playing the victim a little if he thinks it might work. But when he sees that you’re genuinely hurt, he drops the act. His apology, when it finally comes, is quiet and almost vulnerable, a rare moment of honesty where he admits he hates the thought of you being unhappy with him.

- To make it up to you, Loki does something truly meaningful and personal. Maybe it’s a gift tied to a private memory you share, or a show of his magic in a way that’s tender rather than grand. He wants you to know he’s put thought into it, going out of his way to make you feel special. It’s his way of showing that he’s willing to try for you, even if vulnerability isn’t his strong suit.

- As you begin to soften, Loki opens up more than he usually would. He lets down his walls a little, talking about the parts of himself he usually keeps hidden. He’ll even joke about how “you must be the real trickster” if you’ve managed to make him care this much. Beneath the teasing, he’s genuinely grateful that you’re willing to give him another chance.

- When you forgive him, Loki’s relief is palpable. He gives you a soft smile, leaning in to kiss your forehead, his hands lingering as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He might joke that you’re too good for him, but there’s something uncharacteristically sincere in his voice. Loki knows he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s grateful all the same, and he silently vows to make sure he never drives you away again.

T’Challa

- When T’Challa realizes you’re upset with him, he immediately takes it to heart. He’s a leader, used to taking responsibility, and seeing you angry makes him instantly reflective. He approaches the situation with calmness, his face serious but soft, wanting to understand what went wrong. He respects you deeply and is ready to listen without judgment.

- T’Challa’s apology is direct and sincere. He’s never one to evade responsibility, and he owns up to his mistakes without hesitation. He’ll look you in the eyes, telling you how much he values your feelings and that he’s truly sorry for any hurt he’s caused. His words are heartfelt, and there’s a quiet strength in his voice as he assures you that he’ll work to make things right.

- To make amends, T’Challa chooses something deeply meaningful, likely a private moment where he can focus solely on you. Maybe it’s a walk through a quiet part of Wakanda’s gardens or a peaceful night under the stars, giving you his undivided attention. He’s regal yet humble, and he makes sure you feel appreciated and respected, knowing that actions speak louder than words.

- Throughout the time he spends making it up to you, T’Challa is gentle and attentive, his presence a calming force. He’s careful to show you through his actions that he cares about your happiness, making sure you feel seen and valued. He might open up about the challenges he faces as a leader and how much he relies on your support, wanting you to know that you are his anchor.

- When you finally forgive him, T’Challa’s relief is warm and heartfelt. He pulls you into a close embrace, holding you tightly, his hand lingering on your back as if grounding himself. He thanks you for your patience and promises to always consider your feelings. T’Challa values loyalty and love, and he’s deeply committed to making sure your relationship is built on trust and understanding.

Marc Spector

- When Marc realizes you’re angry with him, he’s immediately defensive, his body language tensing up as he prepares for confrontation. He’s used to keeping his guard up, even with those he cares about, so he doesn’t respond well to criticism at first. His instinct is to pull away, maybe even avoiding you for a bit as he tries to process what’s happening.

- After he’s had time to cool off, Marc comes back, his expression serious and his tone softer. He hates apologizing, but he hates the thought of losing you even more, so he does his best to be open. His words are a bit clumsy, and he struggles to be vulnerable, but his honesty is evident. He tells you he’s not great at this kind of thing, but he values you enough to try.

- Marc’s way of making it up to you is practical and thoughtful. He might surprise you with something you mentioned in passing, or he’ll fix something around the house that’s been bothering you. Marc doesn’t do big romantic gestures, but he shows his care through small, meaningful actions, hoping you’ll see the effort he’s putting in to make things right.

- When you start to soften, Marc’s demeanor becomes gentler, more comfortable. He opens up a bit more, talking about how hard it is for him to trust people and how much it means to him that you’re still here. He’s careful with his words, but his sincerity shines through. You can tell he’s genuinely trying to let his guard down for you.

- When you forgive him, Marc pulls you into a tight hug, holding on longer than usual, as if grounding himself in your presence. He doesn’t say much, but his embrace is warm and reassuring. For Marc, actions speak louder than words, and his quiet, steady affection is his way of showing that he’s grateful for your forgiveness and that he’s committed to you.

Steven Grant

- When Steven realizes you’re angry with him, he’s immediately flustered, his expression filled with concern and confusion. He’s not used to upsetting people, and it bothers him deeply that he’s somehow hurt you. He’ll ask, in a soft and anxious voice, “Did I do something wrong?” his eyes wide with worry as he desperately tries to understand what went wrong.

- Steven listens carefully as you explain why you’re upset, nodding along and taking in every word. He’s genuinely apologetic, his voice soft and sincere as he says he’s sorry. Steven is open about his feelings, admitting that he sometimes makes mistakes without realizing it, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make things right.

- To make amends, Steven will put together a thoughtful, heartfelt gift for you. It might be something personal, like a handwritten note explaining how much he values you, or he might buy you a small trinket that reminded him of you. He’s sentimental, and his effort to make it up to you is sincere, filled with little details that show how much he cares.

- Steven is extra attentive after the apology, going out of his way to be thoughtful and supportive. He’s always asking if there’s anything he can do for you, maybe even cooking your favorite meal or suggesting a quiet night in to relax together. Steven’s kindness and warmth make it hard to stay upset, and he does everything he can to show you that he’s there for you.

- When you finally forgive him, Steven’s relief is immediate and obvious. He beams at you, pulling you into a gentle hug, his touch soft and affectionate. He’ll murmur about how lucky he feels to have you in his life, and he’s grateful for your patience. Steven’s love is earnest and wholehearted, and he promises himself that he’ll try even harder to make you happy.

Jake Lockley

- Jake’s reaction to your anger is a bit unconventional; he’s not one to openly apologize or make a big deal out of things. When he first realizes you’re mad at him, he keeps his cool, almost acting indifferent. But beneath the calm facade, he’s carefully observing, figuring out exactly how to approach the situation without making things worse.

- Jake may not be the most verbal with apologies, but he’ll pull you aside and, in a quiet, serious tone, tell you that he didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s direct and to the point, admitting that he’s not the best at this “feelings” stuff but that he does care about you. His words are simple yet genuine, and you can tell he’s making an effort in his own way.

- To make things up to you, Jake does something unexpected and a little daring, like taking you out on a thrilling adventure or a drive to a scenic spot he knows you’ll love. Jake isn’t one for flowers and love notes; he expresses his affection through bold, memorable experiences that bring you closer. He hopes the thrill and excitement will help mend things between you.

- Once things start to ease, Jake becomes more attentive and protective. He’s the type to keep an eye on you, making sure you’re safe and happy, even if he doesn’t say much about it. His subtle actions, like putting his arm around you or keeping you close, show that he’s invested in you and wants to keep you by his side.

- When you finally forgive him, Jake’s reaction is understated but genuine. He’ll give you a small, satisfied smirk, pulling you into a brief yet affectionate hug. He might whisper something like, “Knew you couldn’t stay mad at me,” with a playful glint in his eyes. Jake’s love is quiet but intense, and he’s grateful to have you in his life, even if he doesn’t always show it with words.

Scott Lang

- When Scott realizes you’re angry with him, his first reaction is a bit panicked, his eyes widening as he tries to figure out what he did wrong. He’s naturally lighthearted and doesn’t like conflict, so he immediately tries to lighten the mood, maybe cracking a joke or two to ease the tension. When he realizes you’re not laughing, though, he knows he has to be serious.

- Scott’s apology is genuine and a little rambling. He’s awkward, tripping over his words as he tries to explain himself, but his sincerity is obvious. Scott doesn’t try to deflect blame or make excuses; instead, he’s honest about his mistakes, even poking fun at himself a bit to show he’s willing to take responsibility. He’ll say something like, “I’m a bit of a mess, but I’m your mess… if you’ll still have me.”

- To make it up to you, Scott goes all out in his own quirky way. He might plan a fun, silly date that’s just the two of you, or he’ll do something offbeat and heartfelt, like creating a mini scavenger hunt with little notes and clues he’s hidden around. Scott’s got a big heart, and his way of apologizing is playful, thoughtful, and just a little over-the-top.

- As you start to soften, Scott becomes even more attentive, peppering you with sweet gestures and affectionate touches. He’s incredibly open with his feelings, constantly reminding you how much you mean to him and how lucky he feels to have you. Scott’s love is enthusiastic, warm, and reassuring, and he’ll do everything he can to make you feel appreciated.

- When you forgive him, Scott’s relief is immediate and heartwarming. He breaks into a huge smile, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a big, exuberant hug. He’s incredibly grateful, telling you over and over how much he loves you and how he’ll try harder not to mess things up again. Scott’s love is vibrant and genuine, and he makes sure you know just how much you mean to him.

Wade Wilson

- When Wade realizes you’re angry with him, he’s quick to act dramatically hurt, clutching his chest like he’s been shot and whispering, “Betrayal… by my one true love!” He’ll follow you around, trying to make you laugh with exaggerated groans and over-the-top pleas for mercy. But when he realizes you’re genuinely upset, he dials back the antics (well, a little) and asks what he did wrong, his voice a bit softer.

- Wade’s apology is both heartfelt and a complete mess. He stumbles through it, alternating between cracking inappropriate jokes and telling you he’s sorry in his own awkward, sincere way. His mouth runs a mile a minute as he promises he didn’t mean to mess things up and insists he’d do anything to make you smile again. It’s clear he’s trying, even if he’s not great at keeping it serious.

- Wade’s attempt to make it up to you is pure, chaotic Wade. He might surprise you with a random gift, like a stuffed unicorn, or even write you a (terrible) poem in crayon that’s equal parts hilarious and surprisingly sweet. He’s not big on traditional romance, but he knows how to keep things memorable. His efforts are ridiculous, but his heart’s in the right place, and he’s hoping you’ll find his weirdness endearing enough to forgive him.

- As you begin to soften, Wade becomes more openly affectionate, toning down the jokes just enough to let his softer side show. He’ll look at you with wide, hopeful eyes, holding your hand tightly and telling you he’s genuinely sorry. He’ll even admit he’s scared of losing you, which, for Wade, is about as vulnerable as he gets.

- When you finally forgive him, Wade’s relief is palpable. He breaks into a huge grin, shouting, “Yes! I knew you couldn’t resist all this!” He’ll probably tackle you in a playful hug, peppering you with sloppy kisses and laughing as he holds you close. Wade’s love is chaotic, messy, and intense, and he makes sure you know that he’s beyond grateful to have you back.

Logan Howlett

- When Logan realizes you’re angry with him, his first reaction is to clam up. He doesn’t handle emotions well and tends to avoid confrontation, so he might retreat to brood alone for a while, hoping you’ll cool off. But as he stews over things, he realizes he can’t stand the thought of you being upset with him, and he knows he has to make things right.

- Logan’s apology, when it finally comes, is quiet but heartfelt. He doesn’t waste words, simply telling you he messed up and that he’s sorry. There’s a rough sincerity in his voice, a hint of vulnerability that he rarely lets show. He might even mutter something like, “I don’t know how to do this… but I care about you,” his gaze steady as he waits to see if you’ll give him another chance.

- To make it up to you, Logan’s approach is practical but meaningful. He might cook a quiet dinner for the two of you or take you somewhere peaceful where you can talk things through. Logan doesn’t do grand gestures, but his actions are thoughtful, showing that he’s listening and genuinely wants to make amends. His way of caring is subtle, but it’s filled with raw sincerity.

- As you begin to soften, Logan grows more relaxed and open, reaching for your hand or placing a comforting arm around your shoulders. He may not say much, but his quiet presence is grounding, and he lets you know through small, affectionate gestures that he’s there for you. Logan’s touch is gentle, steady, and reassuring, making it hard to stay mad at him.

- When you forgive him, Logan’s response is understated but warm. He gives you a slight smile, a rare softness in his gaze as he pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. He murmurs something like, “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” his voice gruff but sincere. Logan’s love is steady and intense, and he makes sure you know he’s committed to you.

Matthew Murdock

- When Matt realizes you’re angry with him, he’s immediately worried, his heightened senses picking up on your every movement and sigh. He tries to talk to you, asking gently, “Are you upset?” as he tilts his head in concern. Matt’s naturally empathetic, and it bothers him deeply that he’s hurt you, so he’ll listen closely as you explain what went wrong, taking in every word.

- Matt’s apology is calm and sincere. He admits that he makes mistakes, especially when he’s caught up in his own battles, and he apologizes for any hurt he’s caused you. He’s not one to hide from his flaws, so his apology is straightforward and honest. He tells you how much he values your presence in his life and that he wants to make things right, his voice soft and genuine.

- To make amends, Matt goes out of his way to plan a thoughtful evening for you. Maybe it’s a quiet dinner at home where he can give you his undivided attention, or a peaceful walk through a spot you both love. Matt’s incredibly attentive, always picking up on what makes you feel special, and he uses these details to make his apology feel personal and meaningful.

- As you begin to soften, Matt’s relief is visible, and he becomes even more attentive. He holds your hand, brushes a gentle thumb over your knuckles, and speaks in a soft, affectionate tone. Matt’s world can be dark and filled with pain, but he finds comfort in you, and he makes sure you know how much he appreciates your patience and love.

- When you finally forgive him, Matt smiles, his expression soft and full of warmth. He pulls you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and tells you how grateful he is to have you in his life. Matt’s love is calm and steady, and he promises that he’ll try his best to balance his own battles with making you feel loved and appreciated.

Frank Castle

- When Frank realizes you’re angry with him, his reaction is a mix of confusion and frustration. He’s not used to dealing with feelings in a healthy way, and his instinct is to shut down or brush it off. But when he sees that you’re genuinely upset, his defenses start to waver, and he realizes he needs to do something to make it right.

- Frank’s apology is rough around the edges. He’s not great with words, but he’ll mutter a gruff “I’m sorry” and look at you with a steady, serious gaze. He’ll admit he doesn’t always handle things well, but he’s trying to be better for you. His apology is raw, straightforward, and filled with the kind of honesty that only Frank can deliver.

- To make it up to you, Frank’s approach is quiet and thoughtful. He might bring you something meaningful, like a small trinket he thought you’d like, or he’ll simply spend time with you in a way that shows he’s committed. Frank’s gestures aren’t grand, but they’re heartfelt, and he makes sure you know he cares in his own reserved way.

- As you begin to soften, Frank’s demeanor becomes more gentle and open. He’s careful with his touch, maybe placing a comforting hand on your shoulder or pulling you close, his presence solid and reassuring. Frank may not say much, but his actions speak volumes, and he lets you know through quiet moments of affection that he’s grateful for your forgiveness.

- When you finally forgive him, Frank’s relief is visible in his softened gaze and the way he holds you a little closer. He’ll wrap his arms around you, his embrace protective and strong, as if silently vowing to never let you go. Frank’s love is intense, raw, and unwavering, and he’s deeply grateful to have someone like you willing to stay by his side.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness War of the Roses Smut

Weiss was nervous. I could tell that she was trying not to be. She even put on a pair of lacy pale blue panties and brassiere. I wasn’t sure if she was interested in giving us something to look at or just trying to reassure herself of her own body though. I’m pretty sure it didn’t work so well if it was the later of the two. She still looked on edge in the dark blue slitted dress she was wearing.

It was a first time for her in a lot of ways and to be fair I hadn’t worked out the exact mechanics that would go into play here. For example if I was getting dicked down what would she be doing? And the reverse, if she was getting some what would I get up to? I wasn’t really sure and maybe it made me a little nervous as well. But not enough to overwhelm the excitement I felt at the thought of doing it with my two best friends. 

When Weiss and I arrived at the hotel we would be staying the night in Jaune was already there. He was in the pale yellow room and out on the balcony. He was just waiting out there in the chill night. He… the goofball, he scattered rose petals on the king sized bed and lit a few candles. Weiss exhaled a shaky sigh by the doorway. I stepped inside and pulled her gently by the hand with me so that if she really wanted she could resist. She didn’t. She followed me inside and shut the door behind her. The bed was white with a brown comforter. It looked big enough for four people really. There was a brown sofa couch to one corner and a brown chair along with it. Two small end tables on which three candles total burned. There was a table at the foot of the bed where more candles were lit.

Off to one side there was a full ensuite bathroom with a standing glass shower and brown and grey mottled tiling. 

Jaune turned around our entrance and stared at the two of us. He looked good with his hair ruffling in the breeze and those little diamond studs. He wasn’t full on masculine in appearance. More of a metrosexual look wafted off of him. Which I thought was really good. I liked that he was in touch with his feminine side in a lot of ways. He wasn’t afraid of his own emotions or expressing them. He wasn’t afraid of crying in front of me out of some twisted sense of pride. I liked that openness. I liked that strength. And standing there he seemed content to wait on us to make the first move. 

He stepped in and shut the door behind him and closed the tan curtains. Without the artificial Atlas lights it grew a little dim. Weiss reached a tentative hand over and turned the light bulbs in the ceiling down low such that the bright little six candles were the only lights in the room. She breathed a sigh of relief at that like it removed some little tension from her worries. 

“So,” Jaune began with a whisper. “I’m a little confused about the specifics… I think… two people will have to go first, though. And then the other person will rotate in.”

“But who’s going to want to be the odd one out?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine it going down like that.

“Me, of course,” he returned. “Let you girls get warmed up. It’s a shade more important for you than it is for me, isn’t it? Foreplay? I mean, too much foreplay for you isn’t really a thing in my experience. Too much foreplay for me and my night is over.”

“Is that how guys work?” Weiss asked.

“Pretty much,” he answered. “I could probably go two rounds in fairly short succession. But that would be it. It would pumping in a dry well after that. I mean, I could still go down on one or both of you but the ‘main event’ so to speak would be over.”

“Are you really worried about you finishing too soon?” I asked. “That’s never been a problem for you before.”

“I’m just saying that we have all night for me to probably go two rounds. One for each of you. But after that I’m going to be exhausted. Girls don’t really have a limit that way, in my limited understanding at least. I could be wrong but if I’m like a bottle rocket, ladies are like diesel engines. Once we get you warmed up you can keep going and going and each one is closer and more intense than the last. Is that wrong?”

“Well, not really,” Weiss agreed. “That’s sort of how it works. Girls actually have two different types of orgasms. One for the clitoris and one for the 'g'-spot.”

“That… I didn’t know…” Jaune trailed. 

“The ones for the clitoris are closer and more intense as things go on but the 'g'-spot is a finisher if that makes sense,” Weiss explained.

“Huh,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”

“Really?” Weiss asked. 

“Jaune and I… when he was Jaune… he sort of did both at the same time? It was pretty good. I won’t lie. I guess he made them sync up? Is that a thing?” I asked Weiss.

“I think so…” Weiss trailed with her eyes flickering between us. “The point is that Jaune is probably right. We could go first and have him join us. Foreplay is probably more important for us than it is for him.”

“With his size… yeah…” I agreed a little. 

“Is… is it a problem?” Weiss wondered, teetering nervously.

“I mean… it can be?” I phrased. “Not with enough foreplay.”

“Right. I suppose that makes sense,” Weiss agreed.

Jaune took a seat on the couch and folded his legs. He put his arms up around the back of the couch and looked relaxed. “You girls do what comes naturally. I’ll look for my opportunity to step in. But… I’m sort of eager to watch? I mean… who wouldn’t be?” 

“Oh is that how guys work?” Weiss rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. Little bit,” he said with a smile. “Lesbian porn is the most popular category of porn on the internet. So… chop-chop.”

“Well,” I turned to Weiss. “We can take our time then.”

“Ruby…” she trailed off. I took her in her slitted dress. I wanted her out of it as soon as I saw her in it. I leaned in and kissed her once on her bottom lip. She oozed into the kiss. I stuttered back a half step and I sat down on the edge of the bed. She pursued me. I ran my hand up her milky thigh up the slit in her dress to where her panties met her hip bone. She bent down and kissed me deeply. This time she hunted for my bottom lip and she gently licked it. I opened my mouth to her. Our tongues gently breezed against one another. She pushed me down into the bed as I lifted her dress. I was in a pair of yoga tights and a ‘v’ neck. Her knee came to the head of my thighs and gently pushed into my mound.

I rolled my hips into her knee encouragingly. I got some nice friction out of it. Not anywhere close to making me finish but it was a pleasant sensation. I heard Jaune let out a low groan at the sight but I didn’t look over at him. I was staring at Weiss above me. She ran a hand under my shirt and up to my breasts. She gave my left one a gentle squeeze and caress before hunting for my nipple under my bra and finding it. 

I squeaked into her mouth and her tongue pulsed forward. It rubbed harder against mine and she went deeper with her tongue into my mouth and explored the back of my front teeth. I kept running my hand up her dress higher and higher. I smoothed over the soft skin of her stomach but I couldn’t reach her modest chest. I whined into her mouth and she grinned down at me and pulled back a little. She helped me out of my shirt. Pulling it over my head. She turned around and I unzipped the back of her dress. It fell off of her and left her exposed in those undergarments I watched her put on. They were lacy, flattering on her, and matched her blue eyes and platinum hair. 

My own bra was black and a little lacy but not as much as Weiss’s. So were my panties but I still had on black tight yoga pants. 

She pushed me down onto the bed and straddled one of my legs at the same time her knee came back to my apex. I groaned and thrust my core over her knee for some friction. She rocked her hips into my thigh as she bent low and kissed me. She cupped my right breast and started working her way around my face and down my neck with soft airy and wet kisses. She sucked on my neck hard and my hands came up to stroke her breasts and find her nipples. She squealed a little. It was a very un-Weiss-like noise but it was good and I wanted to hear more of it. 

She pushed her own mound harder into my thigh and I felt a little wetness through the lacy blue and silver fabric. That was… that was just right. It made me push my thigh and my own groin harder up into her and I let out a low moan when our action graced my clit. The little bundle of nerves pulsed excitedly. She reached behind me and pulled my bra off. Her lips traced down my collar until she took one nipple in her mouth and sucked gently. She pulled it into her teeth just enough to graze it and I whimpered and let out a little gasp. 

“Weiss…”

She rocked her hips harder and down on me at my utterance of her name. I could really feel her heat and her wetness now. I traced a hand up her thigh and to her panty line. I pushed the material aside and pressed a finger between her lips. 

She let out a low moan and thrust her hips into my finger. Huh, so that was what it was like. I mean I sort of got it from the times Jaune had thrust into my hand when I held him but I felt so powerful. She felt so delicate. My other hand came up to her left breast and traced a gentle circle around the nipple there. She sighed. It was a shaky sound like she was struggling to breath. She cupped my face in both her hands and kissed me hard. 

She rocked her hips into my finger and I brushed her clit. I rubbed up and down against it very gently because I knew how sensitive it could be. I flicked gently against her flesh and she leaned away. She twisted and pulled her bra off.

I sat up and kissed between her breasts before moving over to her left one and taking it in my mouth. Her hands returned to my face where she pulled me hard against her. I slipped my finger inside her tunnel and she moaned loudly and threw her head back. 

“Oh, Ruby…” I thrust my pelvis up into her knees a little harder and in a circular fashion more than just a vertical one. 

I pushed my finger in and out of her wetness nice and slowly. I rubbed at the interior of her velvety walls and wondered at the softness of them. Her lips seemed so delicate. She sank her fingers into my hair and I whined a little at how fiercely she touched me. She pushed me back down into the bed again. She mimicked the thrusts of my fingers with soft rolls of her pelvis.

I heard Jaune groan again. He seemed to be enjoying the show and I honestly struggled to blame him. 

Weiss pulled back and away from me. I flicked her clit harshly as she pulled away. She gasped and subconsciously thrust her hips back at me. 

She glanced at me and I looked away innocently. She kissed down my body to my pants line. She sank her fingers in and pulled my tights off me in a roll. She took my panties off at the same time and left me exposed to the chill-cool air. She spread my legs so her face was right at my mound. I felt my lips part moistly as she pushed my legs apart. She had a look of intrigue on her face as she sank a finger into me. I moaned lowly and loudly with the slow gesture. She gave me a gentle thrust all while rubbing against where she knew my 'g'-spot was. The rough patch of wet skin on the upper side flexed under her pressure and I rocked my pelvis down onto her finger harder and harder.

She thrust gently again and sofly parted my folds with a graceful ease. Then her face came forward and she gave my inner lips a low long lick and a gentle kiss. I sighed. I was biting my forefinger hard to keep from moaning loudly. She found my clit and rolled it into her mouth. I moaned and tossed my head back. My hands came down to grip her platinum locks and she groaned right into my core. 

Her finger rocked into me and found that sensitive place and started rubbing a firm circle into it. Her tongue darted out and lapped at my folds and graced a circle around my clit before she sucked on it very gently. Her tongue then rubbed hard against it.

“Ah! Weiss!” I called out. Jaune had never gone down on me before. It was an entirely soft experience that had me pushing my lips hard against Weiss’s face. She fell back and kissed the inside of my thigh and gave her finger a push. Then she kissed my outer lips and gave me a harder thrust. Then she licked from her finger all the way to my clit and gave it a gentle kiss.

Then she really went to work on me. Her tongue pressed hard into me and started tracing against my most delicate skin. Her finger thrust harder and harder into me and she rubbed at my insides with some ferocity. I let out a long and low whine that I couldn’t really stop at all and I finished around her finger and thrusted into her face. I had her by her platinum locks harshly and I panted as I came. 

“Weissss…” I felt so unbelievably wet. Sure some of it was Weiss’s spit but so much of it was also me. I tugged and Weiss’s hair. She rose up over my body. “Take them off…” I whimpered. She did. She shed the last of her clothes and crawled on top of me. I scooted down at the same time.

“Ruby…” she trailed off. I pulled her up so that the apex of her thighs was right over my face. I kissed her mound and it kissed me right back. Her hands fell to my hair and I split her folds with my hands. I kissed her interior. Then I slid my tongue inside of her tunnel. It was wet but oddly sweet. It tasted of her sweat, that’s true. There was also a more musky flavor that came with it. And of course all around me was the rich creamy flavor of her aura. Some sort of smooth custard, whipped cream, and crisp crushed ice. 

My licked her from her entrance all the way to her most northern part of her folds. I found the bud there and licked a circle around it. She moaned loudly and her fingers sank into my hair. She thrust her hips into my face with some force and I tried to meet it with my tongue.

“Ha… Ruby… a little…” I flicked even harder against her clit. “Ah! Just like that,” Weiss ordered. 

I made firm love to her sensitive bud. She rode my face into the soft mattress with hiccupping thrusts into me. 

“Ruby… you’re...I’m about to… Ha, ha…” She fell over me such that she was on all fours with her legs spread wide and vigorously strumming down at me. Her hair fell over her rosy flushed face. Her eyes were fluttered closed and I knew she finished because I watched her entire stomach tighten and the abs there flex inwardly. 

“Ha...ha…” she panted. I flicked my tongue out again against her love bud. “Ruby!” I knew that she would be sensitive. I did it again and she flexed harder down onto my face. 

I flicked my tongue up and down her gash and sucked on her most sensitive region. I let my teeth graze it and her hips stuttered in place. Now I understood why Jaune had tormented me with his fingers whenever possible. I felt so powerful as she drove my face into the mattress. It was as though she couldn’t decide whether to pull her hips away completely or ride me harder. Her pelvis rocked back and forth quickly as I brought her to her second orgasm. Her face dropped totally into the bed above me and she pressed her hips down on my lips. Her hands fell into my crimson and black locks and she was so incredibly wet when she finished. The vague triangle of white hair above her mound itched at my nose when she fell. She just lay breathing hard into the bed.

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My legs were hanging off the bed with my legs far apart and Weiss still breathed hard over me. I heard Jaune stand up. I heard the sound of his belt jingle and his clothes hit the floor. I inhaled hard. I felt him walk over to me. His aura had been lurking in the corner of the room but it was out now and it felt like a current down my spine. The smell of ozone, spice, and torched sugar joined Weiss’s flavors. 

“I think… that’s my cue,” I heard him say.

“I need a minute…” Weiss mumbled into the sheets. She rolled off of me and lay spread eagle on the bed. Her left hand was crossed over her stomach. Her right was stretched out and still in my hair. 

Jaune laughed a little. It was a low chuckle. 

“Then you’re first if you’re ready, sweetheart.” I picked my head up and glanced down. Jaune was naked between my legs where they hung off the edge of the bed. It was tall enough that I couldn’t quite reach the floor even if I extended my toes downward. He put a hand on my right knee and lifted it up. I felt myself spread wide and heard a wet sound from myself as much as I felt it. I was soaked from Weiss’s ministrations. 

I felt him at my entrance. I could feel his heartbeat through the head of his erection. I rolled my pelvis upward to give him a good angle. His head entered me and started to stretch me. He reached out and grabbed my other leg behind the knee. Then he lifted up both my legs by the hamstring and my thighs. Just as every other time before, when he entered me, I felt like I was going to split in two and I couldn’t breath. I felt myself stretching to accommodate him and I gasped loudly into the room. He just kept going and going…

It felt like he was never going to run out of centimeters as he slowly glid into my core. I felt him hit something hard inside me before I felt him bottom out and his hips meet mine. He pushed against it firmly. I groaned and twisted my head.

It hurt so good. 

Fuck me but it hurt so good.

“J-Jaune…” I stuttered out. I almost mixed his name up. He stretched my walls to their absolute limit and I felt like they were going to tear but they never did. 

His dick was built like him. Tall but also with some girth to it that made it impossible for him to miss any part of my deepest insides. I could feel him in my belly. He slowly pulled out and I whimpered all the while. His length dragged out of me until only the tip remained inside me and gently and wetly kissing my entrance was the rest of him. He slowly slid forward. I moaned. It was a noise that grew louder and louder as he crept into me again. I thought he would stop and run out of length but he just kept going.

I felt my face flush harshly and fully. Forward faster he went for the furthest reaches of my flower. He rocked his hips into mine and once again our hips didn’t quite meet but I could feel his blond pubic hair against me.

My eyes fluttered a little as he kissed my ‘g’-spot and cervix at the same time with as much of his length inside me as he could get without shoving too hard. 

He yanked a gasp from my lips when he abruptly pulled halfway out and pushed it back in. He rubbed all of my interior walls and bumped into my furthest depths. “Jaune…” I whined. I looked up at him to see him grinning down at me. He gave me another quick halfway thrust. I choked a little. It still hurt a little but in a way that was stretching and good and so full . Gods above, I was so full of him. There was no room left for anything else. My breath kept being stolen from me and I felt like I couldn't get a good mouthful of air into my lungs because there was no room inside of me. He was so big . I couldn’t breath he was so enormous. 

He gave me a long pull out that made me whimper again. Then he provided a smooth slowly and gentle thrust that robbed me of the air in my lungs. 

I flexed my legs to try and wrap around him but he held me fast with my body spread apart and feeling like I might be divided in two. I almost sobbed. I twisted and turned my head on my neck. 

He moved my leg so my calf rested against his shoulder. I was still spread so wide for him. He then took his thumb and gently stroked my love bud. My hips jumped back onto him and made me hit my cervix onto his head. It hurt a little. But it was a feel good kind of hurt like using my muscles to exercise. And I really had no one to blame but myself. 

He pulled his length out and I held my breath and waited. He rubbed a circle into my clit as he pushed his way in and divided me once more. 

I felt my walls tighten and clench around him a little miniature orgasm. I cried out a little. It almost sounded like a sob. I had missed his body so much. He groaned and his hips stuttered a little at the sensation of my body closing around his dick. Yeah, that’s right Jaune. I had some power over you too.

He started smoothly thrusting into me for real and through multiple thrusts I let out a long quiet groan. It was dragged from my lips by his gentle thrusting and his rubbing of my little petals. I still felt like I was going to be torn apart but it was weird because he really was being gentle with me still and there wasn’t much more he could do. He was too big and I was too small. I thrust my pelvis to meet his thrusts as best as I was able with him holding me apart and in the air. 

“Ha...fwuh...fuck...Jaune...I’m going to… I’m about… Please…” I couldn’t get the words out. I bit my thumb hard. “Oh, Jaune!” I called out. 

I finished thrusting my hips back onto his length and against my cervix. He’d been roughing up me 'g'-spot at the same time he strummed my rose. He moaned my name, a low “Ruby…” as I collapsed around him and I writhed on the bed. I was still impaled by him and mostly held in place but I squirmed as best as I was able as the orgasm took me. My eyes fluttered about and I couldn’t see for a second. 

When my tears left my eyes it was still to find him between my legs. And he let them down to grab my hips but he kept thrusting.

“Oh my gods…” I managed. “Please… it’s too much…”

“Shhh,” he hushed. He bent low and kissed me and I kissed him back hard. “Just take it a little more… that’s it… that’s a good girl…”

Our aura’s flared and kissed. Petals shed like rain above us and blue wisps of flame trailed in the air. I could taste him.

I whined in time with four thrusts and I felt my eyes roll a little in my head. I felt like I was about to pass out. Jaune reached down between us where our cores met and started playing with my clit again. I almost screamed as I thrust my hips into his fingers and back away. There was no escape and my body betrayed me as it craved more than the rest of me could handle. I couldn’t get away and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. It felt so… It felt so… 

“I’m coming again,” I whispered and I almost cried. “Oh please, Jaune, I’m coming again…”

I was coming apart and all I could do was lie there and take it. He held my hips so tightly with his one hand as he stroked through my petals with the other. 

I came so hard that lights flashed and it was almost painful. Have you ever been hit by something like that? Something that felt so good it was almost a painful sensation but it never quite crossed over. I did scream and my fingernails dug into his back. I clawed at him desperately and my legs writhed. 

“Sweetheart…” he released at the same time. I felt him pulse inside me. He released one, two, three, four, five jets of hotness right into my belly. The warmth coated my insides as I felt myself unravel and become unmade and remade. 

“Ah...hah...hah... Ah... haha.” I breathed hard. I felt him soften inside me and slid out and right away I felt myself missing the sensation of him filling me so completely. But then I could breathe again and I felt myself gulp down air. I felt like I could really breathe for the first time since he entered me. My face was flushed so scarlet and all I could do was lay there as I felt him crawl off of me. 

I turned my head. Weiss was now lounging on the bed, her head was propped up by one hand and her elbow. And she was eyeing me with a bit of fascination and curiosity. 

Jaune bent down and straightened from where he was at the foot of the bed. I curled onto my side and let out a long groan. 

“Too much? Rubes?” Jaune asked.

I felt myself shake my head. 

“Just right… I think… I’m done…” I panted. 

Jaune looked down at himself. He was still partially hard but the tip was pointing down. He was… maybe five inches at the moment? I wasn’t sure. It was hard to judge how big he was at full mast based off of what I saw. I watched him reach down and give it a few pumps to try and reclaim some rigidity.

“Alright Weiss…” he breathed hard. 

“You can give yourself a minute…” Weiss murmured. “I’m still turned on at the moment. I came twice and that was quite the spectacle. I think I get what you meant about watching.”

“If I give myself a moment I might lose it,” Jaune confessed. 

“Do you-um- need a hand? Instead?” Weiss asked.

Jaune looked at her and nodded. Weiss crawled over the bed to near where Jaune was and Jaune walked over to her. She took him in one hand. Her hands looked tiny compared to even where Jaune was now. Jaune groaned. “Little hands…”

“Is that a problem?” Weiss asked.

“No, it’s sexy,” Jaune disagreed informatively. 

Weiss gave his dick an experimental pump with her right hand. Jaune moaned and thrust his hips into her palm. Weiss looked up at him and repositioned herself.

She took him into her mouth and she moaned at the taste. Tasting me, I realized. And Jaune. She took his head in and pumped the rest of his shaft with her hand. I watched Jaune’s knees jerk at the sensation. I watched his length grow harder as Weiss worked on him. 

She bobbed her head with her ponytail drifting behind her. Jaune reached out and took her platinum locks with both hands. Weiss groaned again when he tugged slightly on her hair. 

“That’s… that’s really good…” Jaune moaned and tilted his head back. His pelvis thrust a little forward as Weiss toyed with him. I realized he was holding himself back. Weiss’s free hand came forward to cup his testicles, something I had never thought of, and Jaune moaned again. “That should do it…” Jaune breathed.

Weiss removed him from her mouth. “What if I don’t want to stop?”

Jaune reached down and picked her up and repositioned her on the bed so she was laying on her back perpendicular to me and parallel to the headboard. I watched as Jaune gently manhandled her. “I’d rather not bore us and skip to the chorus.”

“You think my mouth is boring?” Weiss fired back.

“No, I enjoyed watching you use it. If you don’t want me to, you know, get to the main event, then you had better let me know real quick.”

“Or else what?”

“I’ll do the sorts of things I’ve always wanted to do to you.” Jaune positioned himself at her entrance and Weiss let out a whimper. Jaune didn’t know if that meant stop or go like he did with my noises and he hesitated.

Weiss reached her legs out and wrapped them around Jaune’s pelvis. She pulled him inwards towards her. “Won’t you, please?” She begged.

Jaune gave her this incredibly hungry look at that. It was as though he’d been starved all his life and was just now seeing food for the first time. 

He started to enter her and Weiss let out a moan. It was a womanly sound that increased in pitch as he slipped inside until it became a quiet and pathetic whimper. I knew where she was coming from with that. It was… a lot to take in.

“You alright?” Jaune asked.

“Give me… a second… it’s a bit to adjust to… you’re bigger than Ruby’s finger… by a bit,” Weiss panted out. 

“I felt you break… you’re bleeding!” Jaune said urgently. I had broken in training before Jaune entered me for the first time. Weiss must still have been preserved inside there. 

“That can happen.”

Jaune started to pull out but Weiss held him with her legs. She was breathing hard. I knew that feeling too. 

“You’re getting softer…” Weiss mumbled. 

“Well, you’re bleeding. It’s not exactly a turn on.”

‘I can’t help it.”

“I’m just… I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be. It’s fairly normal for a first time. It can happen. You can start to move now.”

Jaune tentatively rocked his hips all the way out of her. Weiss let out a longing sound at the loss. Then Jaune slowly pushed his way inside and Weiss gasped. “Oh… oh fuck…” she managed. I could stand to hear her swear like that more. “Oh, okay,” Weiss panted. “Wow.”

Jaune smoothly slipped out of her and as he did he dragged another soft noise from her lips. Weiss kept her legs wrapped around his waist but she slumped her right forearm over her eyes. She was a wonderful rosy color in the face. It was so different from her pale complexion. 

I watched her start to glow a little white. I could smell it. Cream, and, custard and crushed ice.

Jaune reached a hand down between Weiss’s legs. I knew what was coming. Weiss jumped where she was impaled on him.

“Good?” He asked. “Or bad?”

“Good,” Weiss sort of purred from the back of her throat. She was still struggling to breathe. 

He rocked his hips in and out of her and listened to her mewl beneath him. She moved her arm from over her eyes and sat herself up on her elbows. “Kiss me…” she pleaded. Jaune bent low over her. He draped one arm over her head so he wasn’t crushing her. He kissed her gently as he shifted his pelvis in another long and slow thrust which I knew from experience could be mind blowing. He played with her folds a little. She moved her hips in time with his fingers. She gasped when he entered her completely. He must have been at least kissing her cervix. “Okay. Okay,” Weiss whispered against his lips. Weiss tried to regain some composure or control but Jaune was totally in charge above her. He pulled slowly out of her body and she tilted her form in anticipation. Then I saw all the muscles on her stomach tighten as he slid inside. I watched them clench again when he flicked her bean gently. 

I saw golden lights shine around Jaune’s body. It mixed with blue wisps of flame to produce little green sparks. I’d never noticed them before if it happened with us. His body flickered like a candle light. It was caramelized sugar and pure ozone wafting off of him. 

He kissed her again and I saw his tongue slip into her mouth and pushed all the way inside her. He stretched her out and touched her in her deepest parts. I watched the muscles on his chest and stomach and legs tighten with restrained power. He wanted to rock her world. I could see that. He wanted to mindlessly thrust his way into her body. He held himself back and checked himself and slowly thrust his way into her tiny, by comparison, form. He had at least a head of height on her and was three times as broad at the shoulder. She looked petite and oh so small as she managed to consume his length. Weiss’s head fell back and she groaned. Her lips slightly parted and her eyes fluttering closed. Yeah… that was the stuff. 

She tilted her butt in time with his thrusts a little faster and yanked on him with her legs a little harder and in synchronization with the new rate she wanted him to go at. He read her and, drinking in her creamy cold aura, matched her rhythm. 

She let out a whine as he touched her insides a little faster. Her hands came up to her breasts and gripped them and rubbed circles into her nipples hard. Jaune thumbed her bud between her legs and she gasped. It was a loud breathy noise. 

“Okay… alright…” she managed. “Just… just like that…” she panted out. 

Jaune continued his more rapid assault on her opening. Quick thrust popped from their groins. Weiss moaned much louder this time. 

“Oh… that feels… that feels… ah…” she couldn’t totally get the words out. Jaune hit with three smooth, long, slow, hard thrusts and she called out. “C-c-Jaune. Oh, I’m…” she covered her flushing face with her forearm again as she took it all in. 

“Look at me,” Jaune gently commanded. “Look at me when you do or I’ll stop,”

“Oh please don’t stop,” Weiss whined.

"Look at me,” Jaune pressed.

Weiss took her arm from over her eyes. She looked him dead in the eye. “I’m about to… oh gods…” Her whole body tensed up. Every single muscle in her body clenched and she pulled him tight into her with her legs. Her fingernails came up and over him and dug into his back hard enough to leave welts behind. Her left leg was shaking at the mid thigh. She fell back and looked away from him.

Jaune rubbed at her clit at an incredible rhythm and didn’t stop his gentle thrusting. If anything he sped up a little. 

“Oh… Ah… Oh… Okay… that’s… that’s… oh no… I’m going to do it again.”

“Do it,” Jaune grunted. He thrust four smooth slow gentle thrusts all while rubbing her bud at a furious pace. He kissed her deeply and she shivered. It sounded like she screamed but it was muted by the kiss and both of their lips. Her muscles in her stomach all tightened up and clenched rapidly as she came while he impaled her.

I saw when Jaune finished inside her because he thrust in and tilted his head back in a moan they both shared. 

Weiss panted and gasped on the bed and Jaune almost collapsed on top of her but he caught himself. 

“So…” Jaune breathed. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Weiss nodded rapidly and bit her lip beneath him. She was so red from the exertion I couldn’t believe it. She covered her face with her forearms and he rolled off her and left her legs spread wide open and her body devoured. 

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-WG

[radiance1]

The Destroyer and his just as Great Apprentice

In a land on the continent of Beast Yeast, where strength ruled supreme and all lived in fear and awe of Destruction. Sat a temple that stood still in time since aeons past, through the rise and fall of various civilizations, untouched by the Tide of Change and the single largest surviving piece of history since the primordial past.

Sat upon a throne that once laid empty yet forever unclaimed, sat none other than the one once regarded as the great Herald of Change.

The Great Destroyer.

“Bored…” The Destroyed grumbled to himself, head resting on his hand as he looked down upon his throne room. “So bored…”

“Great One.” Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, general of the Spice Swarm, stepped forwards, bowing her head as she spoke. “Whatever ails you so?”

Burning Spice Cookie scoffed. “Tell me, Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, how goes the preparations to begin our bird hunt?” 

“Saffron Buffalo Cookie is assembling his army as we speak.” Nutmeg Tiger Cookie stated. “Though it will take some time to prepare the transportation to Crispia, I assure you Great One that we shall find the thief and bring her before you soon.”

“Oh?” Burning Spice Cookie hummed, raising an eyebrow. “And just how soon is ‘soon?’”

“At the very least, a few weeks-”

“Too long!” Burning Spice Cookie shouted, slamming his fist down against his throne. “I have waited eons within the Silver Tree, months for Dark Enchantress Cookie to grant me a new body, and now you tell me I have to wait even more just to have a good fight!?”

“Apologies, Great One-”

“An apology is not enough!” Burning Spice Cookie stood up from his throne, stalking over to Nutmeg Tiger Cookie. His hand wrapped around her throat as he lifted her from the ground, a literal fire in his eyes as he stared into her own. “Go to Saffron Buffalo Cookie and tell him to hurry up, or I shall crumble both him and his pathetic little tribe!” 

“O-Of course, Great One!” Nutmeg Tiger Cookie coughed out, a grunt leaving her lips after Burning Spice Cookie threw her onto the ground. She quickly got up to her feet and bowed her head. “I shall inform him right away!”

“Hmpf.” Burning Spice Cookie huffed as he watched her leave, walking back to his throne and sitting back down. “Pathetic. So many cookies and none can offer me a good fight, ‘Spice Swarm?’ Don’t make me laugh!” He leaned back on his throne, a frown on his lips.

“When will the little thief make her way heeeere?” He groaned out. The boredom was killing him. “Daring to claim my Soul Jam and daring to make me wait? The absurdity of that fallen Sovereign!”

He itched to destroy something, to have a good and enjoyable fight. 

Yes, a good bit of destruction always sent his jam boiling!

But what to destroy indeed…?

Perhaps that little Kulfi tribe? No, no. Too weak to offer him the fight he craved. Perhaps the Pepper Pangolins? Breaking through their armour would be easy, but if he wanted to play around a bit they should last him a while. Hm… No. He wasn’t feeling it. How about the Cilantro tribe? They have been growing a bit numerous compared to the others as of late, culling their numbers could prove fun… But then again, destruction without destroying all of it was always unsatisfying.

And the Saffron Buffalos were preparing to head off to Crispa to capture the fallen sovereign.

“Ugh!” Burning Spice Cookie threw his head back against his throne, hitting the arm of his throne once more. “There’s nothing to destroy! If I didn’t need that pathetic storm to bring me Golden Cheese Cookie I could have destroyed everything and cure my boredom by now!”

Honestly! Years of imprisonment and boredom, now finally free to walk Earthbread once more, and he was only met with even more boredom!

Perhaps he should pay a visit to those little Faerie-

Oh?

What was this?

He brought a hand up to touch against his Soul Jam. It felt as if it were… Resonating. How odd…

Was Golden Cheese Cookie already here!?

Haha! Wonderful! A little threat and they were already working fast! Fast indeed!

He closed his eyes, peering into his Soul Jam to see through Golden Cheese Cookie’s own, just to get a look at her. To once more see the thief that dared to claim half of his power before he got to see her with his own eyes.

So he was impatient, whatever.

Except for the fact that-

“What.” Burning Spice Cookie growled, snapping his eyes open as they leaked with flames.

-Golden Cheese Cookie was still in her ruined kingdom.

“How dare they!” He got up from his throne and grabbed his axe. “Those pathetic little bulls dare to try and deceive me! They’re looking to be crumbled, I see!” Burning Spice Cookie smiled, stalking out of his throne. “Ohoho, if that’s what they wish for, then I am happy to oblige!”

Before he paused.

If Golden Cheese Cookie wasn’t in Beast Yeast, then who or what, exactly, was his Soul Jam resonating with?

The Beast’s brow furrowed, momentarily forgetting his anger in place of his confusion. Was this another trick of the Witches? No, most likely not, those blasted creators were most likely still unaware he was free from his imprisonment. 

Did they bake another Cookie with the power of the Soul Jam? If so, then why on Earthbread was it resonating with his Soul Jam in the first place?

“Hmm.” Burning Spice Cookie crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face as he thought over the matter for a moment later. Before a savage grin overtook his face. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to go and see for myself!”

If there truly was another Cookie baked and bestowed with Soul Jam in his realm, then he could finally have the fight he craved while waiting for his little thief.

—

This was outside of his expectations.

He expected a worthy adversary baked and blessed with Soul Jam, a Cookie he could throw beneath the Tide of Change to see if they could overcome it or be swallowed whole!

Yet what he got was not what he expected.

“You dare to mimic my appearance, small fool?” Burning Spice Cookie scowled down at the tiny imposter, the one that his Soul Jam resonated with as if they were actually someone of note.

“I want to grow up to be feared and powerful just like you!” The Cookie exclaimed, lifting up their imitation of his own axe as they looked up at him with such clear admiration and adoration that lit up their face. “So yes, I did!”

Burning Spice Cookie froze.

How long ago was it, since a Cookie had dared to look at him in such a way before? To dare make such a boastful claim to his very face? To imitate him of all Cookies. Children looked at him with naught but fear and apprehension, as did all of the Wild Spices under his domain.

Except Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, but there was something wrong with that one, so she didn’t count.

“Well…” Burning Spice Cookie crouched down, still towering over the small Cookie who looked so similar to him that it was almost praiseworthy. His Soul Jam was still resonating, though at a lesser degree than it was before, a gentle thumping compared to before. To have a child look at him in such a way was… “You have guts.”

It seems he had gotten soft.

—

“Keep your eyes open, my apprentice!” Burning Spice Cookie shouted over the roaring of the Spice Storm. “You wish to be just as fearsome as I? Then you cannot allow yourself to fall victim to something as paltry as this!”

“Yes- achoo!- sir!” His apprentice shouted back, letting out a series of coughs as he struggled to keep his watering eyes open. 

Burning Spice Cookie lunged, raising his axe before bringing it down on the smaller Cookie. Who quickly raised his own to block the (very much held back) strike.

“Good!” Burning Spice Cookie laughed, the fire in the child’s eyes was adorable. He brought up his knee to crash into his apprentice, sending him flying for a short distance before he managed to get his wings under him. “Keep that energy, my young destroyer! That fire shall serve you well!”

His apprentice flew towards him with a cry, swinging his axe down the exact same way in which Burning Spice Cookie had done a moment prior. “Ack-choo!” He sneezed, missing his strike entirely from his shifted focus. Burning Spice Cookie stepped to the side, bringing up his knee once more and crashing it into his apprentice’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs before batting him away with the flat of his axe.

“Come now, you can do better than that Golden Spice Cookie!” He shouted, resting his axe on his shoulder and his hand on his hip. “You hold but a fraction of the Light of the Change, yet even that should be more than enough to overcome this! Do better, young destroyer!” 

Golden Spice Cookie coughed, looking at him through one watering eye before sneezing. He slowly got up to their knees, using the shaft of their axe as a crutch to get up on their own two legs, wings low to the ground.

“Yes, that’s it!” The Beast encouraged, raising a fist. “Don’t you dare just lay down and accept defeat! If you are able, get back up again! Fight until your last breath, even if your very dough begins to crumble, keep fighting until you are able to no longer!”

“Yes sir!” Golden Spice Cookie shouted, wings spreading out to their full extent behind him before he rushed forwards. Closing the distance between him and his mentor before flapping his wings and taking to the sky, before crashing back downwards like a meteor.

A metallic clang was muffled by the Spice Storm as their weapons clashed, the ground beneath Burning Spice Cookie cracking into a small crater from the weight of the attack as the Light of Destruction and a small fraction of the Light of Change resonated between wielders.

“Good, good!” The Beast of Destruction laughed, manic and proud as he easily held his ground before the clash. “Just like that, my apprentice! The power bestowed upon you should be used in its entirety! You hold power leagues and bounds beyond that of pathetic Cookies, now use it and entertain me!”

Burning Spice Cookie swung his axe, knocking the far younger Cookie away and ending their clash. He ran after them, following up with a two handed, overhead strike.

The ground cracked, a clear line splitting it open as soon as it and his axe met.

The young destroyer avoided the attack by taking to the skies, wings carrying him the furthest they were able (and dared) to within the Spice Storm before folding against his back. Gravity quickly took hold once more, sending him on a downward descent towards his mentor with both hands around the handle of his axe.

Burning Spice Cookie grinned. His Soul Jam roared, his jam was boiling.

This was going to be fun!

—

“Ah, Great One…” Nutmeg Tiger Cookie began slowly, tentatively, as she stared at the sight.

“Hm?” Burning Spice Cookie dipped his thumb into a cup of gathered lassi, bringing it up to wipe at the spice in his apprentice’s eyes. “What do you want, Nutmeg Tiger Cookie?”

“Forgive me for asking, but who-”

“Achoo!”

“Cease your squirming or we’ll be here forever!”

“-Is that…” She said, staring at the winged Cookie that, for some reason, was being cared for by her master. Alongside that, looking like a carbon copy of him.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have believed-

Burning Spice Cookie snorted, a snarl coming up on his lips as he glared at the general. “Do I need to explain myself to you, Nutmeg Tiger Cookie?”

“Of course not, Great One!” She said hurriedly, to which Burning Spice Cookie simply huffed and rolled his eyes.

“How much longer?” Golden Spice Cookie whined, causing Burning Spice Cookie to click his tongue.

“Patience, my young destroyer.” He said, gently rubbing some more lassi onto the child’s eye. They had been fighting in the storm since it had begun (Burning Spice Cookie’s idea, of course) and to its very end, so to say that his apprentice was covered in spice was an understatement. “Good things come to those who wait.” 

“Hmm.” The Cookie whined, but said nothing more.

Burning Spice Cookie paused briefly, very briefly, before continuing.

When was the last time he had ever uttered those words to another? It was most definitely a very, very long time ago.

What was he even doing, sitting here and rubbing the spice from the eyes of a child as if he were his guardian? Burning Spice Cookie was not, of course. A mentor was far different from a guardian, but still. Why was he being so… Lenient? Soft? Gentle, with a child he barely knew for less than a day?

A child that held but a shard of Destruction and Abundance, yes. But if anything, he should have just crumbled him right then and there and reclaim the fragments of his power. Yet instead, he had taken him under his wing.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Hm.

Perhaps it was something he was to think of later.

He got up to his feet, throwing the cup of lassi behind him and hearing it shatter on the floor. He then strode past his general. “Clean that up.” He commanded, before beckoning the young destroyer with a hand. “Come, Golden Spice Cookie.” Then he walked out of the room.

“Oh, coming!” Golden Spice Cookie said, quickly getting onto his feet as he ran after his mentor. “Bye miss tiger lady!” He said, waving at Nutmeg Tiger Cookie before a shout of “Hurry up!” Made him turn away and run out of the room.

Nutmeg Tiger Cookie crossed her arms, slowly looking towards the shattered cup and spilled lassi before glaring at it in disgust.

She was not cleaning that.

She then walked out of the room, looking for a Kulfi.

That was all they were good for, after all.

///////////

Not even going to lie, this inspired by this post made by @totallygray and this comic made by @mixierupperc20 to be honest. Check em out and allat.

[totallyseiso]

Do controllers get much use in apex these days? When the game rewards you for taking down other players it feels counter-intuitive to play a character focused on holding position. Seems like hunkering down would actually put you at a disadvantage against the teams that hunt others down.

I miss my girl Wattson but I don't want to let a team down by bringing almost nothing to the squad

[sansloii]

this came up so i'm putting it here (because alnst chokehold):

i gave so much thought to evan's vc, he has not one but two ( that admittedly, i repurposed from another oc but sssssshhh if you know which one, no you don't )

i have this as his primary vc mainly because... i like noristry and you can pry him from my dead hands. his cadence fits evan a lot, especially when he gets to the more throaty parts of the song. evan's manner is that... he's practiced but still rough. and that roughness is what makes him appealing.

and then for the range that i know evan has, there is this one. evan sings with his entire chest and he's capable of dipping to the lower registers and growling. but if he did that all the time, it would hurt his throat... so he doesn't do it too much. if he has to, though, he 100% will

[emeraldspiral]

Thinking a bit more on the idea of Dib having a vampire ex-boyfriend/nemesis.

Zim would be absolutely terrified of him. Like, we know from the Halloween episode that he has a massive fear of being eaten/having his blood drained so he'd find Batty really intimidating. But he'd try really hard not to show it because he doesn't want to look like a pussy in front of Dib's ex.

Batty would invoke a lot of comparison to Zim with his design and dramatic mannerisms, but he'd be more playful and mischievous and into manipulation and toying with his opponents. The main contrast between the two of them is that Zim is supposed to be cold and unfeeling because his people are conditioned to not feel or crave love but he secretly yearns for it. Batty claims that he had real feelings for Dib and wanted it to work out between them but Dib believes that since losing his soul he can't feel anything genuine and is just very good at faking it.

Batty is extremely charming and manipulative and way better at blending in with humans than Zim, but he also has the ability to hypnotize people, which grows stronger after they've been bitten. Dib however, is immune to Batty's hypnosis because he was bitten once but managed to get away from him long enough for the wound to heal up completely. He still has scars though, hidden by his jacket collar.

Dib asks Zim politely to put off his plans for world domination and promises he'll foil them in a day or two after he deals with Batty's return. Zim takes offense at Dib treating Batty like the bigger threat and tries to force Dib to prioritize his evil scheme but immediately fumbles it, allowing Dib to give Batty his undivided attention.

Dib tells Zim to just go home, promising that Batty can't do anything to him as long as nobody invites him in. Naturally, Batty shows up at Zim's house and walks right in thanks to the Robotparents answering the door with their standard "Welcome home son" greeting. He terrorizes Zim for a bit before biting him but is driven out when GIR belches on him after eating a garlicy pizza.

Zim goes to Dib's house freaking out about being bit and asking if he's going to turn into a vampire now. Dib tells him that he'll only turn if Batty comes for him again and drains enough of his blood to kill him, or if he gets any of Batty's vampire blood in his system. He promises to protect Zim because he doesn't want to deal with him as a vampire. Standard Swollen Eyeball protocol demands that all agents deal with vampires by driving a stake through them, beheading them, and then for good measure burning the remains to ash. The former two Dib doesn't have a problem with, but the latter is unappealing because then he wouldn't be able to prove Zim was an alien or have him dissected for scientific study.

Zim wants to know how to keep Batty away. Dib says he's got a salt circle and garlic wards up around the house to ward away vampires but since Batty's already been to his house it's not totally safe. Gaz is at a sleepover and Membrane's working overnight at his lab, but they'll be going to a safe house set-up by the Swollen Eyeballs.

Unfortunately, having already bitten Zim gives Batty a telepathic link to him, which allows him to figure out where they're going. GIR orders a pizza and Batty seizes the opportunity by pretending to be the delivery guy and getting GIR to invite him in. Hungry for more of Zim's "exotic" blood, he uses hypnosis to compel Zim to come and be fed upon.

Dib drives Batty away, but not before he's drained enough of Zim's blood to put his organic body into a coma while his PAK assumes emergency control, carrying him around on spider legs. The PAK is prepared to turn the nearest organic life form (Dib) into its new host, should Zim die, which seems imminent given that he desperately needs a transfusion and there are no other Irkens around who could donate blood. The PAK is aware of its surroundings however, and is able to listen to Dib explain that there's another way to save Zim.

They get into the medical research department of Membrane Labs where Dib's dad has been working on a blood synthesis machine that can convert any donor blood type into one compatible with any recipient. Dib uses the machine to convert his own blood and Zim is able to accept a life-saving transfusion from him.

Unfortunately, having fed on Zim twice now, Batty's telepathic link is even stronger. He cons his way into entering Membrane Labs and uses his powers to compel Zim to steal the blood synthesis machine and bring it to him while Dib is too weak and anemic to stop him.

Batty takes Zim back to his lair but doesn't feed on him because his plan is to run his tainted vampire blood through the synthesis machine and send it to all the city's hospitals and turn their patients into an army of vampires under his thrall, and he's going to need Zim's blood to replenish him.

Zim attempts to use a tack infused with garlic DNA just like the one from Bolognius Maximus, which he'd made while in the safe house with Dib. But Batty already knew about it due to their telepathic link. He flexes his mental control over Zim by taking it from him and leaving it out in the open and not even bothering to restrain Zim, knowing he doesn't have the strength to break his mental hold and escape or attack him.

Zim is able to contact Dib and tell him where they are though, or rather, Batty allows him to contact Dib because he wants a confrontation with him. When Dib comes Batty tries the classic "we can rule together speech" but Dib's heard it before and reminds Batty that he has no power over him anymore. Batty lets his obsession with Dib get the better of him though, and while he's focused on trying to seduce Dib to the dark side, Zim finally has the chance to strike back and get Batty with the tack, turning him into the very thing he's allergic to.

Batty flits off screaming in agony. Dib isn't sure if being turned into garlic will actually kill him, but if it doesn't, that almost seems worse. Either way, he doesn't expect they'll be seeing him again anytime soon.

And then the story ends with the conversation about how Dib's rivalry with Zim means more to him than Batty ever did.

[softeninglooks]

watching the 2024 olympics, nishida yuji became one of my absolute favorite players. the strength of his spikes and his energy are so deeply thrilling, each of his plays just has you on the edge of your seat and i remember cheering so hard whenever he scored! ❤️

his play style reminded me of coach washijo's fascination with power in haikyu!!, and the thing with nishida is that his spikes are so powerful, though he is at the same time quite short for a volleyball player. in the olympics, nishida proved time and time again that he can fight against taller players and come out victorious just the same. like ushijima in haikyu!!, he is both left-handed and powerful, but also quite short compared to other players but that doesn't take anything away from him. he is the ultimate combination between washijo's love for powerful athletes and the idea, embodied by hinata and hoshiumi, that height cannot limit your greatness.

nishida's powerful spikes had me understand caoch washijo's love for power, and at the same time the ability of some of rjn's shorter players to compete against such tall players on the world stage and win regardless of height is so inspiring 🥺