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teastyun · 8 months ago

Text

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

#➶ jules' anthology #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #sevika smut #sevika imagine #wlw #queer #lesbian #sapphic #Spotify

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satori-runa · 4 months ago

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—The star of the night

Summary: In the middle of chaos, Reca chooses you, his assistant, to replace the actual actress.

Words: 2k

Tags: Fluff, slight comedy, mr reca being mr reca

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

In your lifetime, you'd never been anywhere more glamorous than Reca's movie set. It was a polished spectacle of wealth, fame, and sheer creative ambition concentrated in a single place.

The set was pristine. Everything from the polished equipment to the crew buzzing around the latest cutting-edge technology spoke of high-budget prowess. Reca had wrangled only the crème de la crème of actors, and the script itself was a masterpiece, lauded by critics before a single frame had even been shot. Naturally, it was no surprise when the man beside you, the very architect of this grandiose vision, let out an audible groan, throwing his head into his hands. He pulled them down his face in a gesture so theatrical it almost belonged on the screen itself.

"No, no, no." He groaned, his voice laced with overdramatic despair. “Not like this. This is supposed to be art. Art!” He gestured wildly at the set. “Any three-year-old could create such a display with macaroni!"

While you found yourself captivated by the scene's intricate design—each prop in perfect position, the textures, the layout of furniture—all meticulously assembled to support the vision of an unfolding narrative, Reca saw only flaws. In his eyes, it was a desecration of the perfection he had so painstakingly envisioned.

To him, everything was wrong. The lighting was lifeless, casting shadows that fell harshly across the actors’ faces, robbing them of the soft glamour he’d imagined. The music? A hollow echo that failed to evoke a single stirring of emotion, as far from evocative as a flat note played on a broken piano. And the actress—the poor, unknowing actress who, in any other setting, would be lauded for her skill—was, to Reca, nothing short of an abomination in this moment. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head.

“Does she even know her lines?” He muttered, mostly to himself, though you heard every word. “It’s as if she’s performing in a high school play, not…not this.” He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, his presence a cyclone of perfectionism.

For the past hour, Reca had been tearing every detail apart. The set he'd once raved about was now an "ill-matched mess." The weeks you'd spent booking this elusive location, the endless calls, the backup locations you’d scouted, and the rejections you’d faced until this one finally came through. The casting? The exhausting process of reviewing tapes, organizing callbacks, going through Reca's list of notes and opinions on each actress, often just to have him change his mind the next day. And that demo track? You’d pulled every string, barely scraping by deadlines, just to make sure everything was in perfect order for him.

And here you were, watching it all unravel with each of Reca’s sighs and exasperated mutterings. As he kept pacing, criticizing the lighting again and muttering that the entire production was in danger of "crumbling into mediocrity," you couldn’t help but let out a silent prayer. An aeon, a muse, a miracle—someone save me, you thought, raising your hands briefly to the heavens in a quiet display of surrender.

Because if Reca’s mood didn’t lighten, there was absolutely no way this movie was getting made today.

Just as you were silently pleading for an escape from this nightmare, Reca’s pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped in your direction, and his gaze narrowed, a glint of sudden inspiration lighting up his face. You felt a jolt of dread. That look—oh, you knew it too well. It was the same look he had whenever he came up with one of his “brilliant” ideas, which, more often than not, meant you were in for another impossible task.

“You.” He said, pointing at you with a fervor that made you take a step back. “You’ll be perfect.”

You blinked, uncertain if he was joking. “Me?”

“Yes! You!” He clapped his hands together, excitement bubbling up in his eyes. “Don’t you see? You have everything this role needs. Raw energy, authenticity—a complete lack of…training! It’s fresh. It’s real!”

“Reca, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense!” He cut you off, waving your protests away. “You’re exactly what this film is missing! All this time, I was looking in the wrong places. These actresses…they’re too polished. Too practiced. They lack that something—that spark of untamed potential that you have.” He smiled, a bit maniacally, but you could tell he was deadly serious.

“But I’m just your assistant.” You stammered, feeling your face flush. “I don’t know the first thing about acting. I’d probably ruin the entire film!”

“No way.” He insisted, eyes blazing with enthusiasm as if he’d already envisioned you on the big screen. “Think about it! You’ve been here for the whole process, you know every detail. You’ve seen every scene in my head just as I see it. Who else could be better prepared?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, there was no one that had the same vision as him, but he was already motioning to the costume designer, barking orders to prepare an outfit for you. Any hint of hesitation had disappeared from his face. In his mind, you were already cast and rehearsed, the missing piece that would bring his vision to life.

The next thing you knew, you were being ushered into the dressing room, handed a costume, and given a rapid rundown of your character’s motivations—directly from Reca himself, who seemed thrilled beyond measure. Somewhere between his impassioned monologues and the mounting nervousness that took over you, you found yourself on the set, standing beneath the very lights he’d spent hours cursing.

And as the camera rolled, with Reca’s wide-eyed gaze fixed intently on you, you couldn’t shake the surreal feeling. You’d gone from assistant to lead actress in a single, unpredictable twist, and despite your inexperience, you found yourself saying the lines and stepping into the role…all under the watchful, eager eyes of a director who now thought you were the perfect star.

The set had quieted down, and the crew took a break, leaving only a few people around. Reca, still lingering near you after that intense practice, watched the others drift away before turning back to you with a small, thoughtful smile.

“Let’s run through it one more time, mon cherie.” He said, his voice softer now. “Off camera. Just us.” There was a vulnerability in his tone you hadn’t heard before—a subtle, unspoken invitation.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding again. With the equipment and the audience gone, the space between you felt strangely intimate, as if stepping outside the boundary of the roles you were supposed to be playing.

He took a steadying breath and stood before you, his gaze searching yours. “Close your eyes.” He said, his hand brushing yours. “Forget the lines, the lights. Just…feel it.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. You could feel the warmth of his presence, so close now that every brush of his hand seemed to linger, every movement deliberate. He guided you gently, his fingertips tracing the edges of your hand until your fingers were laced together, his touch grounding, even protective.

“Imagine…” he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion, “Imagine there’s no one here but us. No cameras. No crew.”

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you, his gaze vulnerable and sincere in a way you hadn’t seen before. His expression held an emotion that was entirely unscripted—almost a question lingering in his eyes, as if he was daring you to step closer.

His hand moved to your face, fingertips lightly tracing your cheek. The way he looked at you was overwhelming, like he was seeing parts of you no one had ever seen before. It felt like he was letting you in, past the director, past the confident professional, to something real and deeply hidden.

“Just us.” He murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a second, it felt like he might kiss you—not as part of a scene, not as an actor in a role, but as himself.

You swallowed, your own emotions swelling, breaking past the practiced distance of assistant and director. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, felt impossibly real. It wasn’t just acting. Not anymore.

And in that shared silence, the line between character and reality blurred completely, leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was something there that neither of you had dared to speak aloud.

Your breath caught as Reca leaned in closer, his hand cradling your face with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched on, filled with a tension so thick it felt like the air had turned electric. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you felt your heart pounding, anticipation building with each passing second.

You closed your eyes, half-expecting, half-hoping for the kiss that seemed to hover right on the edge of happening. The moment felt impossibly fragile, a secret shared only between the two of you. And just as you felt him draw in that final breath…

He pulled back, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes, and he spun around, letting out a shout that shattered the delicate silence. “Yes! That’s it! THAT expression—exactly what we need!”

You blinked, still reeling, as he practically leapt away from you, his energy blazing. “Everyone!” He called out, his voice filled with exhilaration. “Get ready to film! Now, now, now! We have to capture this—she’s got the emotion perfect, it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”

The crew scrambled into action, quickly setting up cameras and adjusting lights as you stood there, frozen and feeling a little…lost. You watched him pace excitedly, giving orders and pointing out positions, his focus now on preparing the scene. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that the almost-kiss hadn’t been what you thought at all.

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, your heart still racing from the almost-kiss that had left you somewhere between flustered and bewildered. As the crew finished setting up, you broke into a grin, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all. Reca had played you perfectly, swept you into the scene so thoroughly that, for a moment, you’d forgotten where the acting stopped and the real feelings began. You couldn’t help but shake your head, laughing at yourself.

Reca, seeing your smile, grinned back, clearly thrilled that he’d managed to get such an authentic reaction. “That’s the spirit!” he cheered, clapping his hands together in delight. “I knew you had it in you!”

“You know, Reca.” You said, trying to keep the teasing note in your voice light as you crossed your arms, “you played me well. Got me all caught up in the moment. Almost too well, actually.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Only did what any good director would do.” He replied, a playful edge in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a spark of confidence as you leaned in just a little. “Well, maybe we should rehearse some more roles in private sometime.” You suggested, your smile turning slightly coy. “You know…just to pick up where you left me hanging.”

For the briefest second, he looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if surprised by your boldness. But then, that familiar grin returned, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps we will.” he said, his voice a touch lower, his gaze still locked on you. “Only if you think you can handle a bit more of my…methods.”

Your smile deepened, and you felt a thrill run through you. Maybe, just maybe, the line between acting and reality was thinner than you’d thought. And if Reca wanted to blur it a little more…well, you couldn’t say you’d mind.

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #mr reca x reader #mr reca #honkai star rail #honkai mr reca #hsr mr reca #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #mr reca fluff

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mostlysignssomeportents · 25 days ago

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Keir Starmer appoints Jeff Bezos as his “first buddy”

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

Turns out Donald Trump isn't the only world leader with a tech billionaire "first buddy" who gets to serve as an unaccountable, self-interested de facto business regulator. UK PM Keir Starmer has just handed the keys to the British economy over to Jeff Bezos.

Oh, not literally. But here's what's happened: the UK's Competitions and Markets Authority, an organisation charged with investigating and punishing tech monopolists (like Amazon) has just been turned over to Doug Gurr, the guy who used to run Amazon UK.

This is – incredibly – even worse than it sounds. Marcus Bokkerink, the outgoing head of the CMA, was amazing, and he had charge over the CMA's Digital Markets Unit, the largest, best-staffed technical body of any competition regulator, anywhere in the world. The DMU uses its investigatory powers to dig deep into complex monopolistic businesses like Amazon, and just last year, the DMU was given new enforcement powers that would let it custom-craft regulations to address tech monopolization (again, like Amazon's).

But it's even worse. The CMA and DMU are the headwaters of a global system of super-effective Big Tech regulation. The CMA's deeply investigated reports on tech monopolists are used as the basis for EU regulations and enforcement actions, and these actions are then re-run by other world governments, like South Korea and Japan:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/10/an-injury-to-one/#is-an-injury-to-all

The CMA is the global convener and ringleader in tech antitrust, in other words. Smaller and/or poorer countries that lack the resources to investigate and build a case against US Big Tech companies have been able to copy-paste the work of the CMA and hold these companies to account. The CMA invites (or used to invite) all of these competition regulators to its HQ in Canary Wharf for conferences where they plan global strategy against these monopolists:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/cma-data-technology-and-analytics-conference-2022-registration-308678625077

Firing the guy who is making all this happening and replacing him with Amazon's UK boss is a breathtaking display of regulatory capture by Starmer, his business secretary Jonathan Reynolds, and his exchequer, Rachel Reeves.

But it gets even worse, because Amazon isn't just any tech monopolist. Amazon is a many-tentacled kraken built around an e-commerce empire. Antitrust regulators elsewhere have laid bare how Amazon uses that retail monopoly to take control over whole economies, while raising prices and crushing small businesses.

To understand Amazon's market power, first you have to understand "monopsonies" – markets dominated by buyers (monopolies are markets dominated by sellers – Amazon is both a monopolist and a monopsonist). Monopsonies are far more dangerous than monopolies, because they are easier to establish and easier to defend against competitors. Say a single retailer accounts for 30% of your sales: there isn't a business in the world that can survive an overnight 30% drop in sales, so that 30% market share might as well be 100%. Once your order is big enough that canceling it would bankrupt your supplier, you have near-total control over that supplier.

Amazon boasts about this. They call it "the flywheel": Amazon locks in shoppers (by getting them to prepay for a year's worth of shipping in advance, via Prime). The fact that a business can't sell to a large proportion of households if it's not on Amazon gives Amazon near-total power over that business. Amazon uses that power to demand discounts and charge junk fees to the businesses that rely on it. This allows it to lower prices, which brings in more customers, which means that even more businesses have to do business with Amazon to stay afloat:

https://vimeo.com/739486256/00a0a7379a

That's Amazon's version, anyway. In reality, it's a lot scuzzier. Amazon doesn't just demand deep discounts from its suppliers – it demand unsustainable discounts from them. For example, Amazon targeted small publishers with a program called the "Gazelle Project." Jeff Bezos told his negotiators to bring down these publishers "the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle":

https://archive.nytimes.com/bits.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/22/a-new-book-portrays-amazon-as-bully/

The idea was to get a bunch of cheap books for the Kindle to help it achieve critical mass, at the expense of driving these publishers out of business. They were a kind of disposable rocket stage for Amazon.

Deep discounts aren't the only way that Amazon feeds off its suppliers: it also lards junk-fee atop junk-fee. For every pound Amazon makes from its customers, it rakes in 45-51p in fees:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

Now, just like there's no business that can survive losing 30% of its sales overnight, there's also no business that can afford to hand 45-51% of its gross margin to a retailer. For businesses to survive at all on Amazon, they have to jack their prices up – way up. However, Amazon has an anticompetitive deal called "most favoured nation status" that forces suppliers to sell their goods on Amazon at the same price as they sell them elsewhere (even from their own stores). So when companies raise their prices in order to pay ransom to Amazon, they have to raise their prices everywhere. Far from being a force for low prices, Amazon makes prices go up everywhere, from the big Tesco's to the corner shop:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Amazon makes so much money off of this scam that it doesn't have to pay anything to ship its own goods – the profits from overcharging merchants for "fulfillment by Amazon" pay for all the shipping, on everything Amazon sells:

https://cdn.ilsr.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/AmazonMonopolyTollbooth-2023.pdf

Amazon competes with its own sellers, but unlike those sellers, it doesn't have to pay a 45-51% rake – and it can make its competitor-customers cover the full cost of its own shipping! On top of that, Amazon maintains the pretense that its headquarters are in Luxembourg, the tax- and crime-haven, and pays a fraction of the taxes that British businesses pay to HMRC (and that's not counting the 45-51% tax they pay to Jeff Bezos's monoposony).

That's not the only way that Amazon unfairly competes with British businesses, though: Amazon uses its position as a middleman between buyers and sellers to identify the most successful products sold by its own customers. Then it copies those products and sells them below the original inventor's costs (because it gets free shipping, pays no tax, and doesn't have to pay its own junk fees), and drives those businesses into the ground. Even Jeff "Project Gazelle" Bezos seems to understand that this is a bad look, which is why he perjured himself to the American Congress when he was questioned under oath about it:

https://www.bbc.com/news/business-58961836

Amazon then places its knockoff products above the original goods on its search results page. Amazon makes $38b selling off placement on these search pages, and the top results for an Amazon search aren't the best matches for your query – they're the ones that pay the most. On average, Amazon's top result for a search is 29% more expensive than the best match on the site. On average, the top row of results is 25% more expensive than the best match on the site. On average, Amazon buries the best result for your search 17 places down the results page:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/03/subprime-attention-rent-crisis/#euthanize-rentiers

Amazon, in other words, acts like the business regulator for the economies it dominates. It decides what can be sold, and at what prices. It decides whose products come up when you search, and thus which businesses deserve to live and which ones deserve to die. An economy dominated by Amazon isn't a market economy – it's a planned economy, run by Party Secretary Bezos for the benefit of Amazon's shareholders.

Now, there is a role for a business regulator, because some businesses really don't deserve to live (because they sell harmful products, engage in deceptive practices, etc). The UK has a regulator that's in charge of this stuff: the Competition and Markets Authority, which is now going to be run by Jeff Bezos's hand-picked UK Amazon boss. That means that Amazon is now both the official and the unofficial central planner of the UK economy, with a free hand to raise prices, lower quality, and destroy British businesses, while hiding its profits in Luxemourg and starving the exchequer of taxes.

The "first buddy" role that Keir Starmer just handed over to Jeff Bezos is, in every way, more generous than the first buddy deal Trump gave Elon Musk.

Starmer's government claims they're doing this for "growth" but Amazon isn't a force for growth, it's force for extraction. It is a notorious underpayer of its labour force, a notorious tax-cheat, and a world-beating destroyer of local economies, local jobs, and local tax bases. Contrary to Amazon's own self-mythologizing, it doesn't deliver lower prices – it raises prices throughout the economy. It doesn't improve quality – this is a company whose algorithmic recommendation system failed to recognize that an "energy drink" was actually its own drivers' bottled piss, which it then promoted until it was the best-selling energy drink on the platform:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

There's a reason that the UK, the EU, Japan and South Korea found it so easy to collaborate on antitrust cases against American companies: these are all countries whose competition law was rewritten by American technocrats during the Marshall Plan, modeled on the US's own laws. The bedrock of US competition law is 1890's Sherman Act, whose author, Senator John Sherman, declared that:

If we will not endure a King as a political power we should not endure a King over the production, transportation, and sale of the necessaries of life. If we would not submit to an emperor we should not submit to an autocrat of trade with power to prevent competition and to fix the price of any commodity.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/

Jeff Bezos is the autocrat of trade that John Sherman warned us about, 135 years ago. And Keir Starmer just abdicated in his favour.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/22/autocrats-of-trade/#dingo-babysitter

Image: UK Parliament/Maria Unger (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Keir_Starmer_2024.jpg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Steve Jurvetson (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jeff_Bezos%27_iconic_laugh.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

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ultimateblogform488 · 5 months ago

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I decided to visit a high-end electronics store today, drawn in by the allure of the latest innovations. What I found was a display of gadgets and gizmos that seemed more concerned with style than substance. The salespeople were all too eager to explain how each device was revolutionary, yet they all seemed to be the same recycled concept with a slightly different casing. I was handed a smart device that promised to simplify my life but was, in reality, just another overcomplicated piece of technology designed to keep me tethered to a never-ending cycle of upgrades. The experience was as empty as the promises of the gadgets themselves. At least it provided a brief escape from the relentless turmoil of my life, even if it was a fleeting one.

#radical misandrist #Gay erasure #detrans #Autogynephilia #lesbian radfems #gender cult #peak trans #terf safe #male entitlement #terfblr

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optiblog · 6 months ago

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OPTİVİSER - GOLD

Welcome to Optiviser.com, your ultimate guide to navigating the complex world of electronics in 2024. As technology continues to evolve at a rapid pace, finding the right devices that suit your needs can be overwhelming. In this blog post, we’ll harness the power of AI to help you make informed choices with our comprehensive electronics comparison. We’ll take a closer look at the top smart home devices that are revolutionizing how we live and work, providing convenience and efficiency like never before. Additionally, we’ll offer expert laptop recommendations tailored to various lifestyles and budgets, ensuring you find the perfect match for your daily tasks.

AI-powered Electronics Comparison

In today's fast-paced technological landscape, making informed choices about electronics can be overwhelming. An AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool can help streamline this process by providing insights that cater to specific user needs. These advanced tools utilize algorithms that analyze product features, specifications, and user reviews, resulting in a tailored recommendation for buyers.

As we delve into the world of consumer technology, it's important to highlight the Top Smart Home Devices 2024. From smart thermostats to security cameras, these devices are becoming essential for modern households. They not only enhance convenience but also significantly improve energy efficiency and home safety.

For those looking for a new computer to enhance productivity or gaming experiences, consider checking out the latest Laptop Recommendations. Many platforms, including Optiviser.com, provide comprehensive comparisons and insights that can help consumers choose the best laptop suited to their needs, whether it’s for work, study, or leisure.

Top Smart Home Devices 2024

As we move into 2024, the landscape of home automation is evolving rapidly, showcasing an array of innovative gadgets designed to enhance comfort and convenience. In this era of AI-powered Electronics Comparison, selecting the right devices can be overwhelming, but we've highlighted some of the best Top Smart Home Devices 2024 that stand out for their functionality and user experience.

One of the most impressive innovations for this year is the latest AI-powered home assistant. These devices not only respond to voice commands but also learn your preferences over time, allowing them to offer personalized suggestions and perform tasks proactively. Imagine a device that can monitor your schedule and automatically adjust your home's temperature and lighting accordingly!

Moreover, security remains a top priority in smart homes. The Top Smart Home Devices 2024 include state-of-the-art security cameras and smart locks that provide robust protection while ensuring ease of access. With features like remote monitoring through your smartphone or integration with smart doorbells, keeping your home safe has never been easier. For more details on the comparisons and recommendations of these devices, you can check out Optiviser.com.

Laptop Recommendation

In today's fast-paced world, choosing the right laptop can be a daunting task. With numerous options available in the market, it's essential to consider various factors such as performance, portability, and price. At Optiviser.com, we provide an insightful guide to help you navigate through the vast array of choices. To streamline your decision-making process, we have developed an AI-powered Electronics Comparison tool that allows you to compare specifications and features of different laptops side by side.

This year, we have seen a surge in innovative laptops that cater to diverse needs. Whether for gaming, business, or everyday use, our top recommendations include models that excel in battery life, processing power, and display quality. For instance, consider the latest models from top brands, which have integrated the best features of Top Smart Home Devices 2024 trends, ensuring seamless connectivity and advanced functionalities.

Additionally, if you're looking for a laptop that can handle multitasking effortlessly, we suggest models equipped with the latest processors and ample RAM. Our detailed Laptop Recommendation section on Optiviser.com includes expert reviews and user feedback to help you choose a laptop that not only fits your budget but also meets your specific requirements.

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art · 1 year ago

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Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws

Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.

Check out our interview with Jiji below!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.

What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!

What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.

If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?

Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #jijidraws

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niqhtlord01 · 3 months ago

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Humans are weird: The Folly of Gel’vana

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The Terminus class warship “Gel’vana”, named after her captain of the same name, was the largest warship the Mogabi had ever constructed.

Outfitted with the latest technology, coupled with enough armaments to equal any single fleet, the ship was unlike anything the galaxy had seen set to sail amongst the void sea. The batteries of void cannons alone were capable of cracking tectonic plates like gingerbread.

It didn’t take long for the intentions of such a ship to be made obvious as no sooner had it been launched from the orbital dockyards above the Mogabi homeworld did they declare war upon their galactic neighbor the Techno Autocracy.

The sentient machines held control over numerous mineral rich worlds that the Mogabi long since craved and so they dispatched the Gel’vana to drive the Autocracy out. Swarms of drones and carries were dispatched outnumbering the lone warship a ten thousand to one, yet the Gel’vana carved through them like a hot knife through butter. None of their weapons could pierce the warships shields as it unleashed devastating barrages against the mechanical adversaries.

By the conclusion of the Battle of Raxsus III the Autocracy had been crippled militarily and ceded control of the planets in question.

Emboldened by their victory, three months later the Mogabi declared war on their northern neighbors of the Tumani and Yulnucks. The pair had been locked in an ongoing border dispute for three years and the resulting conflicts had caused waves of disruption within the Mogabi trade network.

The pair was swiftly conquered by the Mogabi fleet with the Gel’vana leading the effort. Both fleets were swatted aside and their homeworlds conquered and instated as new vassal clients of the growing Mogabi empire.

This sad display of power played out again and again for the next ten years until to Mogabi controlled some twenty star systems, fifty worlds, and a dozen different client species serving their needs with resources and manpower. Their hubris was matched only by the fear they instilled when their enemies learned the Mogabi had dispatched the Gel’vana to their system. It was a sentiment that Mogabi felt with their soon to be latest acquisition.

A small empire of planets controlled by a species called “Humans”.

In short order the Gel’vana arrived in the human sol system and expected a fight. To their surprise they were met by a lone warship and a message of surrender.

To say the Mogabi were surprised would be an understatement. They had heard of the prowess of the human war machine and their spirit for conquest. Even with their previous victories the Mogabi were expecting a protracted war that could last decades and cost thousands if not millions of lives.

Human diplomats contacted the Gel’vana and expressed that they had no wish to see their people devastated by a long war. They were willing to negotiate with the Mogabi and give them favorable terms, even the possibility of limited subjugation, conditional on two terms.

1st: No human world would be subject to excessive occupation.

2nd: The human diplomats wished to sign the agreements onboard the Gel’vana as a sign of respect to both of powers.

The first the Mogabi could understand, but the second confused them.

Humans explained that while they were surrendering they still had a measure of pride to take into account. By signing the treaties onboard the Gel’vana they would show that it took the universes mightiest warship to bring them to heel.

Even with the explanation some of the Mogabi were still skeptical, but so drunk on their own supposed power the command staff ignored their suspicions and agreed to the terms.

Slowly the human ship approached the Gel’vana; the shadow of the Mogabi warship swallowing up the entire vessel like the maw of a great sea beast of old. A long lone docking tube extended outwards and latched on to the human ship and pulled it close as the Mogabi delegation gathered at the entry point ready in full military uniform.

As the tube finally stopped moving and the lights turned green, the entry door began sliding open slowly. When it finally slid fully open the Mogabi had just moment to register the tip of the Nova Warhead pointing right at them.

Before any of them could react the ignition triggered and the missile flew the length of the docking tube into the waiting Mogabi delegation, splattering several before colliding into the wall and detonating in a violent explosion.

While it was true that the Gel’vana was nearly impervious to exterior attacks, it was not designed to handle internal explosions. The detonation of the Nova warhead set off a series of secondary explosions in nearby ammo storage chambers which further added to the detonations until finally reaching the main reactor and setting off a critical overload.

In a single moment the deadliest warship the solar seas had ever seen was reduced to a momentary star of light and wreckage before being swallowed into the gravity well of Jupiter.

So assured in their own supremacy, the Mogabi failed to conduct even the most basic of scans of the human ship. Had they done so they would have seen that there was not a single soul on board, and quickly realized the ship was being remotely operated via a series of spy satellites floating throughout the Sol system. The destruction of the Gel’vana was recorded by one such satellite and then broadcast throughout the Mogabi Empire.

Uprisings erupted throughout the entirety of their domain as their freshly conquered territories were all too eager to overthrow their oppressors; many of these rebellions aided by fresh contingents of human warships flooding in and engaging the scattered Mogabi forces.

Within six months the Mogabi Empire was no more and the human forces retreated back to their own domain. Many had expected the humans to become the new overlords, and it was a sentiment toyed with by some notable human leaders in flights of fancy; but that is all they were, flights of fancy. Their only interest had been in the complete and utter destruction of the Mogabi.

In their arrogance of sending a single warship to conquer humanity the Mogabi had done more harm to their cause then they could have ever imagined. They had wounded human pride at the insinuation that they were so frail and weak that they would cower beneath the gaze of one ship.

With their revenge carried out they were all too happy to leave the former vassals finish off what remained of the Mogabi; a vengeance they were all too happy to watch play out from afar.

#humans are weird #humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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the-changeling-manor · 7 months ago

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Genesis

2024. Yes, it’s 2024. It’s only 2024. The future of humanity will be greatly influenced by this decade, both politically and culturally. But a subject that splits the opinions of all, transcending politics and culture, is defined in two words: artificial intelligence.

Artificial intelligence is currently in its infancy.

The ia coupled with chronivac technology could offer infinite possibilities to the users of the software, which is so known to transformation lovers, but yet so impossible to reach. Imagine the chronivac capable of thinking on its own to interpret a prompt, imagine the chronivac capable of analyzing the world around it simply by wandering on the networks, and imagine the chronivac capable of satisfying your desires just with a photo.

It’s just a Dream. Imagination. Unreal.

Isn’t that right? Well.... Don’t be so sure.

——————————————————————

Think about this guy. He’s like you and me. I even think he's one of you who reads these words. Brown hair, thirty years old, young gay, it’s a kind of "mister everyone" in this community of male transformations, which besides will not even be named or represented by a photo, since I know that this guy is you.

Indeed, every night, he connects on tumblr and reads these stories where people change to become the ones they dream of being, whether they are serious or only in the context of fantasy.

He reads stories, more or less exciting, sometimes redundant because full of clichés, the story you read is also a mountain of clichés, I guess. This ordinary guy is enjoying this moment. He is happy, even though he knows he will never be able to live it.

He is deeply sad.

He receives a notification. Someone who sends him a message on tumblr precisely. He thought it was still one of those bots that redirected to adult sites. Yeah you know, those same fake accounts that pollute youtube with their nude women photos. A real hell.

But this one was different. It had a profile picture of a Greek statue and a curiously long name. His message was accompanied only by a link, a link that immediately caught the attention of our young man since he could read the term “chronivac”.

There was little hope that it was not a dream, or his imagination, or unreal. But reality dominated his thinking. He opened the link

“Chronivac, Latest Edition” was displayed in the middle of his screen. There was a drop-down menu with different pages on the website. One of them was called “Targets”. Clicking on it, he came across a world map, similar to Google Map but more sober. The site zoomed in on her house before displaying her name at its exact location. Not just her name. The names of her family members were there. Also those of the neighbors. And even of the inhabitants of the neighborhood!

Hope overcame reason. He wanted to believe it. He believed in one of those stories he could read on Tumblr. He pressed his name, and then— This is what he has always dreamed of. An extremely complete interface displaying all its physical or mental characteristics… There were even different options such as the ability to change reality or even use prompts instead of checking elements for transformations.

It was fantastic. He discovered the different menus and saw the image reader option as what the gpt chat could do. Suddenly, he had an idea. He recorded an image of a sexy guy that he followed on twitter and instagram. He added a prompt «Give me the identical physique of the man in the photo, and ONLY his physique». For the rest, he wanted something different. He did not want to become this man, he only wanted his body to serve as the basis for his new life.

For his mind, he deliberately clicked on the «Stupid jock» option, not wanting to click on ten thousand different options to forge a new personality. Finally, to better change the reality, he launched a second prompt: "I will become a heterosexual Hispanic sportsman, completely dominated by primitive and conservative thoughts. The chronivac will disappear from my life and I will never have access to it again, no matter what.”

This last part could have been replaced by the possibility of making the transformation permanent, but he did not want it. He liked these cliche stories where the protagonist was forced to stay in this new life, a real victim.

His excitement made him want to get through this. He voluntarily locked himself in there. He fell victim to his fantasies. And he loved it. Not clicking on the permanent option would torture him for the rest of his life, leaving him the hope of one day being able to return, even if the prompt made it impossible.

He wanted to explode with joy. He clicked on one last “Adapt Reality” option before pressing "save".

A flash of light blinded him for a few moments. When his body stabilized, he found himself in a basement with sports equipment. "Felipe" he whispered with a Spanish accent. The little voice in his head had just been replaced, he no longer spoke his original language. An uncontrollable desire led him to live his new life as Felipe.

He now had the body of a god. He was incredibly well carved... neither too big nor fat. He measured 1.80m for 85kg. His beautiful pecs bounced, making him laugh. A long stupid laugh that let his intellect disappear, replaced by knowledge about bodybuilding, women and alcohol.

He had little hairs, apparently this gymbro body liked to shave... except under the armpits. He raised his arm to feel this tuft of black and musky hairs... sweat. Yes, it was normal, Felipe was doing his exercises. His whole body was covered in sweat.

Because of the sweat, his underwear was even tighter against his cock. His new penis was now circumcised, just a religious tradition. This cock had met many women in bed.

He also remembered that two friends had to join him for his bodybuilding session, and after that they were going to watch a football match. A good life well stereotyped for an athlete as stupid as Felipe.

He was now a gymbro like the others.

His mind was trapped inside Felipe, inside him, but he was so happy to have fulfilled his fantasy.

It was a dream, the imagination, the unreal come true.

——————————————————————

Please forgive me for the mistakes, I am not fluent in English!

It was a first story, based on the most common clichés in order to do something a little different.

The next stories will be shorter, it was only for the beginning.

I am open to all requests, do not hesitate to offer me images with the source if possible!

The images of the new Felipe come from this X account: @Mariosalvadr

#male tf #male transformation #mtm #chronivac #jock tf #dumber #jockification #reality change #gay to straight

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eevees-hobbies · 8 months ago

Text

Sext Me Like Ya Mean It - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura)

Author’s Note: This was inspired by this Haruka Sakura Nendoroid, where he’s blushing and looking at his phone. "But, Eevee, how did a cute little figure inspire a fanfic that’s 8-pages long? " I can’t stress enough how down bad I am for this man. Like I would let him put it in my ***, and I’d *** his *** off of a plate. And I’m not even fucking sorry about it. I might buy this thing and purchase a *** jar, to be fucking honest. Also, if you see any debauched shit with Haruka, tag me cuz I’m Jonesing (I’m dead fucking serious).

Synopsis: Sakura and technology don’t mix, and now you’re telling him there’s this thing called sexting?! It’s a no from him…unless you can convince him that sexting can be fun for all involved! How will you manage to do that? I dare ya to guess.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura. Sexting in the form of text and video, Togame sees your breast, masturbation for you, public masturbation for Sakura, pet names including kitten, sir, and daddy. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2.7K

Dividers by Saradika. Banner by me.

“What’s…sexting?”

Sakura looks defeated as he poses the question. He had just grasped the concept of texting, and now you were throwing more terminology his way?

You shake your head, amused that someone who grew up in the age of smartphones is so pop-culture illiterate. “Sexting is just texting, except we send sexier, more suggestive messages through words, gifs, or pictures. It’s really hot.”

Sakura runs a hand through his dichromatic black and white tresses, “that sounds dumb and not sexy.”

Even saying the word sexy has a persistent shade of pink stretching over cheeks.

“Don’t knock it until you give it a try, Sakura! Anyway, have fun with Suo and Nirei tonight.” You give him a peck on the cheek, which results in a grumble and him pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your earlier conversation with Sakura. He was always so quick to disregard things he didn’t think he would be good at.

You can think of all the times you suggested something new: baking, binge-watching Bridgerton, and volunteering at a cat cafe, and how all those things were immediately met with complaints from your boyfriend.

It wasn’t until you forced his hand by involving him in those activities that he started to warm up to being someone who can bake a mean cake, enjoy a good cuddle session while enjoying the latest season of Bridgerton, and is actually a talented cat-whisperer.

So much like those situations, a little push might be warranted.

You pick up your phone, enter the passcode, and flick past the home screen displaying a picture of you leaning up to kiss the chin of a blushing, scowling Sakura.

Across town, Sakura sits at a bar with Nirei and Suo—a bar is usually not their typical meet-up place, but it’s Togame’s birthday, and they needed a venue that could accommodate the size of all the rowdy Bofurin and Shishtoren alums. It also doesn’t help that Kotoha also said, “Fuck. No.” to hosting the party at Cafe Pothos.

A light buzz vibrates in Sakura’s pocket; he leans over, pulls his phone from the back of his jeans, and looks at the screen. He’s pleasantly surprised to see a message from you; he thought you’d be half asleep by now.

God, I miss her. Hope she hasn’t started a new episode of Bridgerton without me.

As he taps on the text bubble icon to open the message, his eyes squint, needing some time to take in the message and then re-read it.

8:20 PM: Hey, baby. I miss you. Thinking of you sooooo much.

His heart thumps aggressively in his chest—a common result of simply thinking about you—as he stares at the text before him, already overthinking what he should send, but you beat him with a follow-up message.

I hate back-to-back texts. Never have time to respond.

8:22 PM: I’m lying in bed. Don’t worry…not watching our fave shows without you, kitten.

He rolls his eyes at the pet name you gave him. You told him that he looks like an angry kitten when he scrunches his nose and bears his teeth. Wiith little complaint from Sakura, the pet name stuck. It’s so stupid and emasculating, but he kind of loves it.

“You ok, Sakura? You’ve been staring at your phone for like five minutes.”

Sakura looks up at Nirei. “O-oh uh, yeah. Just texting.”

Suo looks over Sakura’s shoulder, trying to peak at his phone screen, “but you aren’t typing anything?”

Sakura tilts the phone away from his friends’ nosey eyes. Your conversations with each other are personal for him, and he’s committed to keeping you all to himself.

“Stop being fucking nosey!” he growls. Sakura decides this is becoming too much of a hassle, but as soon as he’s about to put his phone away, he receives another text from you.

He pauses to consider that he could wait until he is alone to read your messages, but who knows how long that would be? What if you needed something? He would be pissed at himself if he missed an opportunity to do something for you. He decides that the risk of getting caught being called a pet name by his girlfriend isn’t that big of a deal, so he flips his phone over to read your latest commentary.

8:25 PM: Read receipts are on, so I know you’re looking at your phone. Party must suck.

What the fuck is a read receipt?

8:26 PM: A read receipt means I can see that you’ve looked at the text message.

He smiles, loving how you can read his mind even when you’re not physically in front of each other. He’s almost ready to make a pass at typing those exact thoughts out until the following message has him clutching the phone to his chest out of fear that someone could read it over his shoulder.

8:28 PM: I think I’m…ovulating? I have this craaaazy desire to lick your balls all the way to the tip of your dick, kitten.

Sakura gradually pulls the phone away from his chest, checking that Nirei and Suo are too engrossed in their conversation to notice the deep-set blush on his cheeks and how he’s peaking at the phone through his fingers.

His thoughts are frantic; he has so many questions about a situation that he’s never been in before. Why would you send something so filthy through your phone? What is he supposed to do about any of this information when he’s so far away?

8:30 PM: I’m drooling just thinking about it, baby. Remember when you fucked my face so hard that my hair had my drool in it? I want you to do that again. Fuck my cute little mouth.

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” A hand reaches past Sakura’s face and takes the phone from his grasp. Sakura immediately stands up, the barstool he was sitting on making a loud scraping sound as it drags against the floor.

But the perpetrator is tall, and Sakura may have beaten his ass before, but they’re friends now, and it’s looked down upon to abuse your friends.

Togame looks down at Sakura, shaking his head. “You’ve been on your phone every time I look over at ya. What is more important than spending time with me on my birthday?” He punctuates each syllable with a swing of Sakura’s phone.

Suo, ever the instigator, happily chimes in. “He’s texting Y/N!”

“Oh?” Togame’s brows furrow as he looks around the bar, realizing he hasn’t seen you all night. “Hey, yeah, your shadow is missing.”

In what feels like slow-motion, which it probably is because it’s Togame we’re talking about, Sakura watches as Togame’s eyes look down at the screen. He watches as emerald irises quickly scan the text—obviously a faster reader than Sakura—and his eyes widen.

“Well, damn. That’s hot.”

Another text comes in to Togame’s delight. He lets out a whistle and hands the phone back over to Sakura.

“You sure you know what to do with a girl like that? I could take her off your hands.”

Sakura shoots him a murderous look; his fists clench as he steps toe-to-toe with him. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Togame chuckles, knowing that look in Sakura’s eyes. It was only a few years ago that he and Shishitoren had inspired that same look, which resulted in Sakura and Togame becoming close and saving his best friend’s life.

But somehow, the look Sakura harbors is more intense—protective—now than back then, and it’s all because of you. Togame fully believes that Sakura would be willing to swing on him for you and to protect your honor. Relenting, Togame pats his head, “Kidding. Y'all are cute together.”

Sakura looks down at the phone, curious to see what you’ve sent this time and what Togame glimpsed. What he sees is somehow worse than you calling him kitten or saying you want to gargle his balls down the back of your throat—it’s far worse.

This time, you sent an image of you in front of a mirror, clad in only your bra and panties, legs folded underneath you as you pulled a bra cup down, exposing your breast.

His eyes dart up to Togame and down to his phone in quick succession, short-circuiting in a matter of seconds.

Togame chuckles at Sakura’s reaction, “Yeah, she’s real pretty. Lucky guy.”

As Togame shuffles off with the image of your full breast sitting heavily on his mind and wondering what it would feel like for that same breast to sit heavily on his tongue—Sakura stomps off to the bathroom in hopes of regaining his composure.

Suo and Nirei exchange shrugs, assuming Sakura is experiencing one of his usual moods.

Sakura enters the furthest stall from the door and immediately texts you, with your picture still sitting enticingly at the top of his messages.

8:35 PM: Togame just saw that picture.

Elipses in a bubble appear on the screen, signifying that you’re in the middle of typing. While he waits, he can’t help but look at the picture you sent, his thumb rubbing over your dark, perky nipple as he swallows thickly at the bulge straining against his jeans.

8:37 PM: What did he say? Did he like it lol?

Sakura shakes his head. You are a ridiculously massive pain in his ass sometimes, but you’re also so…hot.

8:39 PM: Send me another picture. But with less clothes.

His heart is once again pounding in his chest, hoping you comply with little to no backtalk for once. He doesn’t even care that people are shuffling in and out of the bathroom as his foot taps against the shiny tile of the floor in impatience.

Another image appears on his phone in what feels like an eternity. This time, your legs are bent in front of you, with two fingers spreading your folds, allowing him to see every bit of your sex in the reflection of the mirror.

Before Sakura knows it, his hand is reaching down into his pants and palming his hard dick while zooming into the picture, inspecting every inch of you that he’s already previously committed to memory. His eyes dart over your clit, that cute little nub that makes you grip his hair as he sucks and licks at it. His eyes move down as he zooms into the image as much as it will allow, looking at your tight hole, which, despite image quality, he can tell is already shining with thick moisture that gives it that glazed, glistening look that makes his mouth water.

Sakura unbuckles his belt, letting it drag his pants and boxers to his ankles.

8:43 PM: Baby? Where’d you go? Or should I be saying hi to Togame instead?

Sakura grunts, not realizing that the logistics of sexting and jerking off can be so troublesome—you really have been teaching him a lot. He picks up his phone and shoots you another text.

8:45 PM: Shut up. Keep going. I like what I’m seeing.

8:45 PM: Yes, sir.

His cock twitches at your use of that honorific. Yeah, being called kitten is lovely when you’re being sweet, but he also likes it when you call him sir or daddy when your naughty side comes out.

Sakura goes back to stroking himself and looking at the previous picture you sent him. The message is pushed up as you send a new image; he doesn’t have to scroll far to see something that makes him leak precum onto the toilet seat below him.

You’ve moved away from the mirror and are lying on the bed; your soft, thick thighs spread far enough to give him a clear view of the two fingers you have shoved in your pretty pussy. He can tell by the white coating near your knuckles that you must have been pumping the absolute hell out of her.

His mind is racing. Were you thinking about him as you finger fucked yourself? What did you imagine him doing to you? How close were you, and could you hold off until he got home?

Sakura squeezes his eyes shut, feeling like this entire experience is overloading his senses. He had just learned how to text, and now he’s sexting you? And you’re sending the dirtiest, filthiest messages to him as he jerks off in a public bathroom during his friend’s birthday party?

What the actual fuck..

He licks the palm of his hand and brings it down to stroke himself, imagining that it’s your slick being rubbed into the pores of his dick. He can’t even manage to start slowly because you’ve already done such an excellent job with these pictures—already making his cock hard to the extent that his balls hurt, and if he doesn’t cum soon, he’ll have to punch someone.

Sakura begins mumbling under his breath as his strokes quicken and increase in intensity. She’s such a good girl for me. Perfectly needy and so into me. She’s so pretty and sweet, and I’m her Daddy.

He’s picturing you in every single position he’s ever had you in and every position he wants to try in the near future.

He’s imagining sucking on your nipples, biting them as hard as he’d like to without you squealing that it hurts.

He’s imagining pinning you underneath him while folding your ankles behind your head so he can hit that spot that makes you squirt on his stomach.

He’s imagining you begging him to pull the condom off and fuck you raw because you “need every last drop of his baby batter” He shivers at the thought of you saying something so slutty and out of character.

The hand holding his phone vibrates, and he enthusiastically pulls his phone back in front of him. This time, you’ve sent a video; he’s never pressed play so fast in his life.

The video is shakey, but when it beings to play, it focuses in on you fingering your pussy—-his pussy.

“S-SAKURA, FUCK,” blasts through the speakers as you breathily moan his name and your favorite expletive.

He quickly lowers the volume but not too much so he can still hear as he presses the speaker to his ear, savoring the sound of your moans and the sound of your fingers being stuffed into your hungry cunt, mixing and squelching your juices noisily for him.

It reminds him of that ASMR shit that you sometimes listen to–if he could have an ASMR recording of just you, your moans, and the sound your pussy makes for him, he’d listen to it every single day.

Sakura feels his hamstrings tighten and a burning sensation in his abdomen; listening to you is bringing him closer to his orgasm, and it feels like it’s going to be intense.

God, and everything you were saying was just perfect.

“Your pussy misses you, Daddy.”

“I love the way-” gasp “love the way you fuck me, baby.”

“Haru, I need you, baby. Please come home.”

“I’m so close, but I can’t cum without you, baby boy.”

“I want to squirt on your dick, sir. Please, please, please.”

Sakura hunches over and lets out a deep, guttural moan that can’t be stopped even as he grits his teeth. His balls clench violently, and his nut shoots out onto the toilet seat, toilet bowl, and on the floor. Even when he thinks that his cum is done spilling from him, more bubbles at his tip and dribbles down the length of his cock and along his knuckles.

He leans against the stall wall and stares at the mess he made—all over himself and everywhere his airborne spunk could reach.

He’s convinced that he’s never come so hard in his life, and it was all because of you. Fuck! He hasn’t messaged you since you called him sir, and that was—he checks the clock on his phone—ten minutes ago!

He types out a message, sneering in disgust as cum smears on his phone screen.

9:05 PM: I just fucking came. Coming home. Don’t clean yourself up.

9:06 PM: CAME?! In your pants….? Or…?

9:08 PM: SAKURA?!

He doesn’t reply because he’s already on his way home to you.

#sakura haruka smut #haruka sakura smut #haruka sakura x reader #sakura haruka x reader #sakura thirst #sakura smut #haruka sakura #windbreaker smut #windbreaker #wind breaker

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linkedin-offficial · 6 months ago

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The evolution of Skypeople and their prolific adaptability

open read more for the rest of the text ! warning, long post (sorry lol :'D)

during the early days of skypeople life in the realms of sky, skypeople were very weak and susceptible to the elements and dangers that the land, not being very suited for habitable life just yet, had brought to them. because of this, they had to begin adapting rapidly as they finally began to settle into their chosen homes and settlements.

for example, those like the well known avians; known for sparking the invention of caped flight and nurturing many of todays bird populations; were a derivative of early skypeople that had begun sprouting feathers, wings, tails, and birdlike legs to better help them in their chosen environments of the clouds and wind paths. meanwhile others, like miners, were large and rugged skypeople that were known for their amazing ability to go long periods of time without a reliable light source; they had adapted not entirely because of their chosen home, but because of their occupation.

this amazing rapid showcase of adaptability allowed for skypeople to flourish and thrive, the populations all across realms booming very quickly, and communities growing with every passing year.

soon however, because of the many technological advances made by the growing expanse of opportunity that was created, machines and great inventions powered by the most skilled of light magic users were becoming the norm. intensely laborious jobs and harsh trekking became a thing of the past.

then, to complete the cycle, due to such advances, skypeople began to de-evolve. because of the great new technology that had now been mastered, there was little need for much physical adaption. so, as time went on, skypeople began losing these unique features, and looking much like the skypeople you may know today as "spirits".

some skypeople did manage to maintain small aspects of their adaptable family genealogy, but this percentage was miniscule in number.

fig 1 . two skypeople of the early settlement age. the earliest of the skypeople were small, frail, and very fragile. early skypeople would easily be mistaken for skychildren in todays age, no matter how old the individual.

fig 2 . two skypeople at the peak of evolution; an avian and a miner. due to the rapid evolution of skypeople, there was barely any inbetween period between the early age and the peak evolution age. diversity was abundant, and it was easy to find individual skypeople built for almost any job. avians, who excelled at flight; miners, who dominated the tough jobs in dangerous areas; and divers, who took to the open seas with ease; just to name a small handful.

fig 3 . after the slow decline of evolution due to technological advances, skypeople began to become even more diverse in nature. it became hard to tell just exactly the lineage of any individual simply by gazing at their features. because of this, masks, capes, and clothing depicting creatures, occupation, or status became incredibly popular. to dress extravagantly and display your lineage namesake was considered normal.

fig 4 . mostly all of the latest skypeople come from this age, all those we now know as "spirits". this age was not as extravagant as the detransition age, but many of the cultures and things learned stuck strong throughout. in this age, it was hard to find any who bore the unique features of the peak evolution age, which only encouraged those who were persistent in maintaining their lineage's namesakes through generations.

#i looooove writing essays i love it i love it #i would go into detail about certain things but only if im asked #or if i really really want to #otherwise most of it stays in my head #but this time i just went ahead and wrote a bunch out if what ive been thinking of #this is the big one #ive been mulling over this for like a week so im very happy about it #i heart evolution. i think skypeople deserve some diversity #anyway. enjoy these overzealous headcanons and big beautiful butches #sky: cotl #sky cotl #sky children of the light #skycotl #sky:cotl #sky: children of the light #sky #speculative biology #spec bio #(technically)

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tinyproprodigy · 11 days ago

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"A Scientist and The Ballet of Hextech" - Viktor x Male Danseur Reader.

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

The grand hall is alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the soft rustle of silk and satin. Viktor stands near the back, leaning on his cane, his sharp eyes scanning the room with mild disinterest. Jayce had insisted he attend, claiming it would be “good for networking,” but Viktor would much rather be in his lab, tinkering with his latest project.

The lights dim, and the audience falls silent. The curtains part, and the performance begins. Viktor’s gaze is drawn to the figure at the center of the stage—the danseur. His movements are precise, fluid, and filled with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away. Viktor finds himself leaning forward slightly, his analytical mind momentarily silenced by the raw emotion on display.

But then it happens—a tiny misstep, so small that no one else seems to notice. Viktor’s sharp eyes catch the flash of rage in the danseur’s eyes, the way his jaw tightens for the briefest moment before he continues as if nothing happened. The performance ends, and the danseur strides offstage before the applause can even begin. Viktor watches him go, intrigued.

'Such passion… such fury.' He thinks as he mulls over the performance the remainder of the night 'It’s almost...' though he doesn't finish the thought.

A month later, Jayce bursts into Viktor’s study, his usual energy filling the room. “Viktor! I’ve got an idea—no, a vision! We need to make Hextech more accessible, more personal. And what better way to do that than through art?” he grins, waving a familiar flyer in his friend's face.

Viktor raises an eyebrow, setting down the tool he’d been using as he eyes the paper. “Art, Jayce? You want to combine Hextech with… ballet?”

“Exactly!” Jayce grins, clearly pleased with himself. “I’ve commissioned the danseur from the grand hall performance—you remember him, right?—to create a modern ballet piece inspired by Hextech. We hope to have people grasp it better with the pull of art and view it as a powerful and personal experience to unify Piltover to new changes rather than see it as the..." he thinks for a moment,"the apparent danger Heimerdinger describes.”

Viktor hesitates, his mind flashing back to the danseur’s performance, the fire in his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for this, Jayce. I’m a scientist, not an artist.”

“But that’s the point!” Jayce insists. “You’re the perfect person to bridge the gap between technology and art. Besides, I think you’ll find the experience… fascinating.”

Viktor sighs, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his chest. He mulls it over for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to the danseur’s raw passion and fury. It might be worth it just to see him perform again.

“Very well,” Viktor says finally. “I’ll meet with him.”

“Trust me, Viktor. This is going to be incredible! You’ll see!”

The grand hall is quiet on later night, the only sound the soft echo of music and the rhythmic tapping of the danseur’s feet as he practices late into the night. Viktor hears the music as he passes by, his curiosity piqued. He follows the sound, his cane tapping softly against the floor.

He finds the danseur onstage, completely absorbed in his art. Viktor watches from the shadows, mesmerized by the precision and emotion of the performance. When the music stops, the danseur finally notices him.

“Who’s there?” He snaps, his voice sharp with irritation.

Viktor steps into the light, raising a hand in a placating gesture. “It is just I, my apologies. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was… captivated.”

The danseur raises a brow, his expression guarded as he sarcastically asks “Captivated? By what? My mistakes?”

“No,” Viktor says, his voice calm and sincere. “By your passion. Your dedication. It’s… remarkable. I can see why you lead as one of the well known in your profession. Well earned.”

The danseur studies him for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You’re the scientist Jayce mentioned. Viktor, right?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, his amber eyes meeting the danseur’s gaze. “And I already know who you are. There’s no need for introductions.”

The danseur hesitates, then gives a curt nod. “Goodnight, then.” He turns on his heel and strides offstage, leaving Viktor standing there, watching him go.

'He’s like a storm—beautiful and dangerous.' Viktor can't help but want to understand what swims behind those fire eyes.

The tension in the room is palpable as you rehearse with the other choreographers. Viktor and Jayce watch from the sidelines, Viktor’s sharp eyes noting every detail. You push yourself too hard, your frustration evident in every movement. And then it happens—a misstep, a stumble, and a sharp cry of pain.

Viktor is on his feet in an instant, his hand gripping his cane tightly as he rushes to your side. “Are you alright?”

You glare up at him, your pride wounded more than your body. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

But Viktor isn’t convinced. He helps you to a guest room to recover, his mind already working on a solution. Once you are settled, Viktor returns with a temporary brace he’s designed using his knowledge of biomechanics.

“Let me help you,” Viktor respons in a calming tone, tentatively taking a seat on the end bed, his cane resting on the wall near before holding out the device. “This should aid your recovery.”

You hesitate, then reluctantly agree. As Viktor works, slowly slipping your foot from under the silk sheets and placing it on his lap to tend to, you watch him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Why are you doing this?”

Viktor looks up, meeting your gaze. “Because I admire your dedication. And because… I want to see you dance again. I want to see you feel how you make your audience feel. I, being one among them.”

As you take a week off to recover, you find yourself fascinated by the precision and grace of Viktor’s machines. Viktor, in turn after a weeks recovery, is captivated by your ability to translate complex emotions into movement.

You spend more time together, Viktor’s quiet admiration for your talent growing into something deeper. You, who's usually closed off and short-tempered, find yourself softening around Viktor, who seems to understand your need for perfection in a way no one else does.

The day of the performance arrives, and the grand hall is packed. The air is electric with anticipation, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the audience. Viktor sits in the front row, his eyes fixed on the stage. Your performance is breathtaking, a perfect blend of art and technology. The music swells, the lights dance, and you move with a grace and vulnerability that wasn’t there before. That you hadn't felt in a long time.

As the final notes fade away, the audience erupts into applause. Though you stay onstage, your eyes search the crowd until they land on Viktor.

For the first time, you don’t feel the need to run. You performed, strangely, not to establish dominance and meet your extreme standards but for the man sitting front row. The man who watches you with proudly adorned confidence and unhidden fascination in your performance. The man who has calmed the never-ending blaze within you, not by extinguishing it, but by giving it a new purpose—a new flame to guide you forward.

The man who watched his muse.

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

The end!! Had a dream about this and had to write it asap! Also, apologies if there is a sentence that sounds silly. I struggle to explain exactly what i want to convey sometimes since English isn't my first language, but that's the point of writing. Learning!

#arcane #arcane oneshot #arcane x reader #arcane x male reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #viktor x male reader #arcane viktor #Viktor oneshot #Ballet male reader

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avocadopepito · 1 month ago

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Charity Gala

Pietro Maximoff x reader

TW : language, and some dirty talk i guess ?

The Avengers Tower was buzzing with activity as the final preparations for Tony Stark's charity gala fell into place. The event, dedicated to funding cutting-edge prosthetic technology for veterans, promised to be the highlight of the year. Tony spared no expense-as usual-transforming the tower into a glittering beacon of innovation and elegance.

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror, slipping into a sleek, floor-length gown that Tony himself had commissioned. The deep emerald fabric shimmered under the soft light, complementing her eyes and the quiet confidence she inherited from her father. As she adjusted the delicate bracelet on her wrist—a gift from her mother Pepper—there was a rapid knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called.

Pietro clad in a crisp suit, stepped inside, looking every bit as uncomfortable as she’d expected. His silver hair was tousled, as though he’d run his hands through it repeatedly in frustration, and he tugged at the tie around his neck.

“Why do people wear these?” Pietro grumbled, gesturing to his outfit. “It’s like a straitjacket.”

Y/N turned, taking in the sight of him with an amused smile. “You clean up well, Maximoff. Who knew you had it in you?”

He rolled his eyes, but the faint blush on his cheeks didn’t escape her notice. “You look... nice,” he added awkwardly, his Sokovian accent softening the words.

“Nice?” she teased, stepping closer. “I think I deserve better than ‘nice.’”

Pietro’s lips curved into a grin as he met her gaze. “You look stunning,” he admitted, his voice low. He then use his thumb to lift her chin, and kiss her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“Much better,” she quipped, grabbing her clutch. “Now, let’s go before my dad sends a search party.”

***

The elevator doors opened to reveal the grand ballroom of Avengers Tower, a breathtaking space transformed into an opulent celebration of innovation and generosity. A canopy of shimmering lights hung from the ceiling, mimicking a star-filled night sky. Stark’s signature flair was everywhere—from the holographic displays showcasing Stark Industries’ latest prosthetic models to the sleek bar, stocked with drinks served by bartenders in tailored suits.

As Y/N stepped into the room, all eyes turned to her. The gown, her effortless confidence, and the way she carried herself made her the embodiment of Stark charm and sophistication. Pietro were at her side, his body tensing uncomfortably as he felt like a fish out of water. Y/N kind of fell it, she knew it was not the type of thing that Pietro was cool with. And it's why she's so grateful, because he made an effort for her.

“You can relax. I'm with you, and I'm not going to leave you alone” she whispered softly, low enough for only him to hear. His body relaxed, and even if he'd like to be anywhere but here, he knew this was important to Y/N. And he love her.

“Ah, there’s my precious girl!” Tony’s voice boomed from across the room. He strode toward them, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that was custom-made, no doubt. His grin widened as he caught sight of Y/N’s companion. “And you brought a date! Didn’t know Speedy here owned a suit.”

“First time for everything,” Pietro replied with a smirk.

“You should be thanking me, dad.” She added. “I’m single-handedly increasing the elegance factor of this room.”

Tony chuckled, but his eyes darted to Pietro, scrutinizing him. “Well, don’t think I won’t interrogate you later,” he said lightly, though his tone carried a hint of warning.

“Looking forward to it,” Pietro replied, matching Tony’s gaze with surprising ease.

“Behave,” Y/N said, shooting Tony a pointed look before linking her arm through Pietro’s and guiding him away.

The evening unfolded in a whirlwind of introductions and conversations. Guests ranged from political figures to celebrities and military leaders. As Y/N navigated the crowd, Pietro stayed by her side, watching with quiet admiration as she worked her magic.

“Miss Stark,” a senator greeted her warmly. “I have to say, this initiative is truly remarkable. Your father must be proud to have you carrying the torch.”

Y/N smiled, her response both gracious and sharp. “Thank you, Senator. My father laid the foundation, but it’s a team effort. We wouldn’t be here without everyone’s collaboration—including the veterans who inspired this project.”

As the senator walked away, Pietro leaned in. “Do you always talk like you’re in a political drama?”

“Only when I’m trying to impress people,” she whispered back, nudging him with her elbow.

A familiar voice interrupted them. “Hey, Y/N! Nice dress.” It was Natasha, dressed in a sleek black gown that was simple yet stunning. Beside her was Steve, who looked as though he’d stepped out of a fashion magazine in his classic tuxedo.

“Thanks, Nat. You’re not looking so bad yourself,” Y/N replied, exchanging a quick hug with the spy.

Sam, who just joined them, grin at Pietro. “Didn’t think I’d see you in anything other than running gear, Maximoff.”

“You and me both, birdy.” Pietro quipped, earning a laugh from the group.

Steve extended a hand to Pietro, his expression polite but assessing. “It’s good to see you here.”

“Likewise, Captain,” Pietro said, shaking his hand firmly.

Natasha gave Y/N a knowing look as the conversation shifted to light banter. “You two make an adorable couple,” she mouthed silently, earning an exaggerated eye roll from Y/N.

As the night progressed, Y/N and Pietro found themselves on the dance floor again. The music shifted between lively jazz and modern hits, creating a dynamic energy in the room. Tony, ever the showman, took the stage at one point to give a heartfelt speech about the importance of the prosthetics initiative. Y/N felt a swell of pride watching her father speak, his charisma lighting up the room.

“I see where you get it from,” Pietro said, leaning close.

“What, my dad’s flair for dramatics?”

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Your ability to make everyone believe in you.”

Y/N glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, the chaos of the gala faded, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble.

“I think you’re starting to enjoy yourself,” she notices, deflecting the sudden wave of emotion.

“Maybe,” Pietro admitted with a grin. “But only because of you.”

Tony finally finish his speech, the crowd cheering him. The music then shifted to a slower tempo as couple starts to dance in the center of the reception.

“May I have this dance, Miss ?” Pietro face to Y/N, offering her his hand.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in his, smiling “With pleasure, sir.”

As they moved to the soft rhythm, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them under the glittering chandelier.

“I want to thank you for being here with me, I know it’s not the place you love the most.”

Pietro’s gaze softened, and right now, he realized how important she was to him.

“I know it’s important for you. And I fucking love you Y/N, so much that it’s killing me.” Y/N smiles then lean in and kissing him, the world suddenly feels like stopping.

“I love you too Pietro. And I have to admit, you’re full of surprises tonight” she murmured.

Pietro leaned in, his voice a quiet murmur in her ear. “And the night’s not over yet. If you know how much I want to rip this dress out of you. I want to eat you, and fuck you until you can't take it anymore.”

Hundreds of shivers ran down Y/N's spine, her cheeks turning red and this sudden urge to cut the gala short. “Is that a promess, Mister Maximoff ?” She tease with confidence.

“Trust me, it's more than that princess.”

xxxxxxxx

If you didn’t know how much I love Aaron Taylor Johnson, now you know it. I hope he’s my husband in an another life, who knows, multiverse is real after all, right ?

Anyway, I've been thinking about doing a full story with this ship, maybe not Y/N like Tony's daughter, but Doctor Strange's niece (it was a story that I starts on wattpad years ago but she never see the light). Sooo tell me if you'd like me to do it !

#marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #pietro maximoff #tony stark #pietro maximoff x reader #mcu #mcu fandom #avengers #marvel mcu #mcu rp #ao3 fanfic

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