#normal people who chose that life and chose to help people
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taddymason ¡ 2 days ago
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Thinking about Jay’s role in the team, and I know I’ve mentioned before that Jay’s main themes are family, and that if given the choice between his close circle of loved ones and the greater good he’ll choose the former, but also another thing that sets him apart from everyone else is the reason why he’s a ninja. With characters like Zane and Cole it’s mentioned multiple times that their purpose is to take care of others, those who can’t protect themselves. Nya and Kai also have this duty/responsibility theme that makes a lot of sense considering the circumstances they both grew up in, and that they both have in common that they want to prove themselves at first and then focus on the role that “they’re supposed to” play (aka; Kai accepting that his role isn’t to be the green ninja and that his duty is to protect Lloyd, and Nya accepting to stop being the samurai X which was her way of proving herself even without being a ninja and in the end becoming the water ninja). Lloyd has a mix of all of this because he's constantly the chosen one in every situation since he was 10, and it's all he knows as a way of life, but back to the topic:
Jay has nothing to do with this.
And I'm not saying that Jay doesn't care about helping people, or anything like that. It's just that it's very interesting that he's the furthest away from having this motivation to be a ninja. Even Wu, in one of the books, confirms that Jay in the pilots saw the opportunity to be a ninja as an excuse to have exciting adventures after a rather humble life in which Jay was going from one hobby to another.
And while the other roles in the team always come back to the theme of protecting others and all that, the reason why Jay is chosen instead is because he's a dreamer. In the flashback and the Ninja of Lightning book Wu explains that the reason he chose Jay was precisely because he had this ability to think outside the box and motivate others with his sense of humor. In almost every first season there is an instance where Jay quickly adapts to a situation just by seeing the other side of things that others don't see, and having this amount of skills: He's the one who discovers how to do spinjitzu, who finds the temple of light, who adapts first to space/digiverse, who does best in the Ninja Roll episode, etc. It's not that Jay is the smartest or strongest, but give him anything and the guy, in some unconventional way, will try to take advantage of it and build a spaceship out of literal scrap metal.
There aren't really many examples of this in the later seasons, BUT, it's worth noting that Wu also chose him because Jay knows how to motivate others with his sense of humor. And what does he do in S12 when he's separated from the others and trapped in a video game? He makes a resistence to oppose Unagami and inspire people who were also trapped in that game.
With all that being said, I just wanted to point out how distinct Jay's role on the team is and his motivation for being a ninja in the first place. It's not like he has this heroic duty, or necessarily wants to do justice, he's just a guy with a normal life who wanted to have exciting adventures and tap into this creativity of his and do some good in the process if it ended up working out. Which is sad with how things are right now but whatever…
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starrygazers ¡ 2 days ago
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home, or what's left of it.
˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ I'M IN MY MYDEI WRITING GROOVE (procrastinating on my programming assignment). Also, the food used here is based on Golden Honeycakes, one of the oldest delicacies in Amphoreus history, which was once a favorite high-end dessert among the nobility. (according to the HSR wiki) also he made an ad for this? that's so cute
˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : comfort, fluff
˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei; minor spoilers for 3.0
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The brutish man ducks his head to slip inside the small entryway. He makes no sound, but his demanding presence in the middle of the establishment is not easy to miss.
You meet his eyes, cloth in hand. Giving him a small smile, you look away and continue wiping the tables. "Normal people say hello, you know?"
Mydei huffs, his hands crossed in front of his chest. The chilly night air of Okhema doesn't seem to bother him, as he's dressed like he normally is. Flashy, royal; befitting of a Crown Prince.
"Take a seat," you motion to the table nearest to the counter. You've put away most of the chairs, as the clock nears midnight, but saved a single one in hopes of your esteemed guest's visit.
He positions himself on the appointed seat, watching you take ingredients out from behind the counter to start cooking.
Mydei is no stranger to being away from home; that's how he'd spent most of his childhood, anyway. Fighting for his life at sea, dying in the hands of giant waves, starvation, or beasts. Even in Kremnos, he never experienced a good night's sleep. It was a kill or be killed world, and immortality doesn't take that away from him; they just have to kill him again and again until he stays dead.
And home was not something to miss, not after what happened. Not after his god fell from glory, dooming his people, and he was forced to make a choice between dying (again and again) for mortals or reign as a deity. So, he chose pain, because that is what's destined for the King who never got his throne.
Home is so far, and he doesn't want to go back.
And yet,
"Here you go!"
You place a plate of Golden Honeycake, topped with fresh fruits and dripping with honey, just like how Mydei likes it.
Home is far, and he doesn't want to go back, but he remembers the same aroma. Of the cooks taking pity in him and introducing him to the sweet delicacy. Of stories in the past by his mother who teased him for having the same taste in sweets as his father and all the kings before him.
He gives you a curt nod, a sign of thanks. You beam at him, watching intently as he takes a tentative bite. It tastes like home.
He takes another bite. Then another, and another, until the plate is a fresh clean slate. You chuckle, picking up the plate.
"You know, most people consider it rude to barge in on closing time," you tease him.
"I didn't mean to disrupt your business."
"You act like you don't drop by here every night, ordering the same thing," you laugh again, and he find himself liking the sound of it. He wants you to laugh again. "You must really like it, huh?"
He chooses not to answer, but he doesn't shake his head either.
You disappear behind the counter to wash the last plate, and he stands in the middle of your restaurant awkwardly.
"Is there ... anything I can help with?" he asks sheepishly.
You stare at him, clearly surprised, before clearing your throat. "Oh, um, you can put the chair away. Please, if you don't mind."
Mydei nods, picking up the wooden chair with ease as if he were handling a feather. At the sight, you allowed yourself a joke, "Closing would be a breeze if you worked here."
The Prince looks away, seeing your apron tucked under one of the shelves, letting his mind wander about a universe where the battles he fought were less gruesome. Where he could patch his wounds and value his only life. Where he would go home, and he'd be proud to call it that.
But in this world, all he had were the scars and the baths.
"You make good Golden Honeycake," he says. "It reminds me of the ones they used to make back in Castrum Kremnos."
Mydei swears he can see the sparkle in your eyes when you stare at him in awe, and thought they rivaled the sight of the night sky of all of Amphoreus.
Then your lips break into a smile, and Mydei's cold, inhumane, non-existent heart melts like the butter on the honeycake.
"I'll have you know that compliments won't suffice as payment," you grin, though a hint of bashfulness is evident in your voice.
"Put it on my tab." the Prince turns away from you, hiding his own embarrassment as he walks to the exit.
"If you had one, it'd be longer than my grocery list," you joke again. "How about this; you come back tomorrow?"
Mydei looks back to you, reads the hope written on your expression easily, and lets out a sigh.
"Yeah, expect me to bother you again tomorrow."
Home is maybe not too far away.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Š2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.
˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
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revvethasmythh ¡ 2 days ago
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I would not normally reblog something like this, but I think it's almost criminally offensive to put Veth and Liliana on the same level in terms of whether they're good mothers or not. To frame Veth situation as comparable to Liliana's is to misunderstand the entire situation for both of them. Veth's absence from her home after spending six months as a chained slave in a goblin camp makes perfect sense from her POV, knowing that the people of Felderwin despise goblins and would kill one on sight. This very concept is explored in the Mighty Nein Origins: Nott the Brave comic, in which she DID return home as a goblin--where her own husband incited a riot against her and she was run out of town with pitchforks. Counting the comic as canon, Veth very much did attempt to return to home and only gave into despair, turning to alcoholism and stealing to survive, after the had been wholesale rejected by both her husband and her entire town.
Liliana CHOSE to leave her family in pursuit of answers, not because she was kidnapped and tortured and maimed into becoming--as Veth and the people of Felderwin would perceive it--an outright monster. And Liliana continued to make that choice every single day for no less that 26 years. Timeline wise, approximately 14 of those years were before she ever even met the Grim Verity, let alone Ludinus Da'leth. The point is that Liliana's absence was incredibly prolonged and entirely voluntary, whereas Veth's explicitly was involuntary and, once she found Caleb, who had the skills she needed to remake herself, she strove every day to find a way to make him powerful enough to help her return.
You could argue that Liliana might have turned out similarly to Veth if she'd met up with a party like the Mighty Nein instead of Ludinus, but--well, she kind of did. The Grim Verity might have been that, except their research did not progress quickly enough, allowing Ludinus and Otohan to poach her from them--and then go on to murder many of their members. Liliana willingly joined them, even after that, and continued to stay with them despite the atrocities they committed and ones she chose to participate in herself. You don't get to be the general of an army like that without getting your hands dirty, on a scale so much more enormous than anything Veth could ever approach. Veth MIGHT have been willing to do terrible things to solve her issues, which comes up as a single hypothetical that never actually occurs. One person's willingness to potentially do something in no way compares to the actual laundry list of war crimes another has factually committed.
In every way, Veth and Liliana stand opposed due the voluntary nature of Liliana's absence from Imogen's life and the sheer scale of damage she's committed both to Imogen, her adult child who's entire life she's missed, and the world writ large. I think both are interesting and complex characters, and both deserve nuanced analysis, but to say Veth is no better than Liliana or, in fact, WORSE than her in any way? That is an abominable misunderstanding of the text.
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If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤
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holydramon ¡ 12 days ago
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legitimately feel tri would have been way better received (and honestly just a legitimately better series) if it didn’t treat the 02 kids like that
#sorry watching the first couple scenes knowing the context of what they actually did with them??? does in fact frustrate me a lot. it really#felt like they chose to build up a mystery of what happened to the 02 kids but the thing is like. they didn’t get rid of the 02 kids because#it would be interesting or they had a good idea around it. they did it because they just didn’t want to deal with them. and you can just#kinda TELL by how sloppily they were handled.#and like legitimately I do not envy their position because I do think discarding the 02 kids was the RIGHT decision because it’s already#hard enough to juggle all the original 8 and the movie characters but it’s just. man. MAN.#I will forever think that they should have gone with the option of the chosen genuinely believed the 02 kids died like a few years ago or#something. especially because I think that would actually HELP inform the way they did choose to handle the characters.#I know a lot of people hate how they made taichi a bit unsure… less steadfast… and the implication they go with in tri is just that as he#grows up he becomes more aware of collateral damage and danger. and I guess that’s FINE but. why not give him a better reason? I feel people#would be far more forgiving of how they wrote taichi if his hesitance was born from the fact that some of his fellow chosen have DIED. the#danger has always been there. he’s always had to deal with brushes with death. he has already experienced the loss of many good digimon but.#I feel like this would hit him different. the fact that his sister and Takeru would have died too if they hadn’t been busy that day… it#still haunts him. he knows fighting is what’s right but it’s becoming harder to ignore the danger everywhere - he doesn’t necessarily care#what happens to him but… what about everyone else?#I think also in general it would drive a bit of a wedge within the chosen - the ones who think they still need to fight no matter what -#that it’s their DUTY - and the ones that are unsure. the ones that are losing their confidence that it will ever end. the ones who want a#normal life.#THAT’S MY FEELINGS AT LEAST.#I definitely need to rewatch adventure and 02 to fully gauge how accurate I feel this thought process is but. this is my current thoughts#for how I want to handle tri and the 02 kids in YAoYD. if I ever actually. write it.#dramon thoughts
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awarmbowlofhomemadesoup ¡ 7 months ago
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What I love about Dungeon Meshi is that it writes platonic relationships with the same weight romantic stories would normally be written.
The Character that Got Their Heart Broken Too Many Times
Humanity broke Laois' heart. This is taken advantage later on by the Wingled Lion, but I digress.
Laois got bullied in all-boys school to the point that he ran away to become a soldier. Heartbreak #1.
He got harrassed in the training camp to the point that he became a deserter. Heartbreak #2.
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The combination of these events were so bad, his lack of basic self-care can be a sign of a depressive state. If Falin hadn't joined him, who knows what would've happened to him.
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Laois was so happy when he became friends with Shuro and felt so betrayed when Toshiro said he couldn't stand him. Not exactly a heartbreak #3 but it hurt all the same. They got past it but Laois remembers.
And when Kabru, for once in his life, stopped playing poker and laid down his cards, Laois wasn't going to let his heart be hurt for the fourth time.
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The biggest thing that stands out to me in this manner is how Kabru's blurted confession of wanting to be friends with Laois was treated as much as a big revelation as a romantic one. Because the weight of that confession is Kabru's character development.
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The Character Whose Sincerity Doesn't Come Easy for Him
This guy grew up being infantilized and not taken seriously by the elves for being a short-lived race. So, he honed diplomacy as sharp as his assassin's blade.
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He knows the right things to say and when to say them, making him well-liked by everyone (much to his team's chagrin over their loved ones). And yet his personal cause puts a distance between him and his trusted teammates (including his childhood friend).
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To say his true feelings and thoughts would end up with long-lived races dismissing him for being unwise and irrational.
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So he keeps his cards to himself and works with subtlety throughout the manga, until things got worse, and he couldn't make Laois stay.
And he was left with nothing but to be sincere.
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Right from the start, he said he wanted the Touden siblings to be unmasked. But in the end, he unmasked himself, much to his horror.
Addition edit: Kabru has been keeping his cards close to himself for so long, I don't think he realized what he really feels until he blurted it out. He chased after Laois throughout the dungeon because Laois might defeat the mad sorcerer. But for a guy who wants to understand everyone, he never understands what he feels about Laois and what that feeling means until his brain catches up with his mouth.
After decking Laois for not believing him, Kabru elaborated in his confession. He has developed a platonic crush (plush for short) or desire to be friends with Laois because:
1. Kabru wants to understand how Laois could love the very thing Kabru hates. Hate is just another face of fear. We fear what we don't understand. To understand Laois is to understand monsters. I think Kabru finds it admirable that Laois could admire monsters when everyone just view them as a threat.
2. He wants Laois to care about the same thing he does, which is saving humanity. Laois and co. are willing to side with the demon to protect Marcille from the Canaries. By asking to be Laois friend, Kabru becomes Laois' link to humanity that whatever they would do from there with the demon, please don't forget how it might affect other people outside his friends. And by gods, this is important to Kabru's development because he has never asked for help for his cause nor asked anyone to care because he's too used to the self-serving nature of all races. And yet, he chose to believe in Laois. Because if Laois could go that for his sister and elven friend, what more if he could do the same for what Kabru cares the most?
However, it was only in the end that they were able to talk after things had settled down. And they are so different and so alike at the same time.
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Source
In this scene, there are two differing thoughts:
Laois, who experienced social rejection growing up: Do you still mean it?
Kabru, who had to deal with those of higher power: Are you testing me?
But they're still thinking the same thing: Is this real?
Like, all of their motivations have the weight often molded into romantic plots in any other story. A character who got their heart broken too many times and another character whose honesty does not come easy for them. But it's not a romantic story, but a start of a beautiful friendship.
There are more examples out there, but this is what came to my mind. Feel free to add more.
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cherienymphe ¡ 1 month ago
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Suburbia X
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Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, blackmail, voyeurism, stalking, breeding kink, eventual violence, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland
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➥ series masterlist
~
“Thanks for coming.”
That was what you finally said to Peter after you both had been sitting on your couch for what felt like hours. In truth, it was only about ten minutes, but the silence was so tense and heavy—and you were so nervous and terrified of the young man in front of you—that the time didn’t pass normally in your mind.
Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and without them he looked beyond only twenty-three. Or maybe that was all in your head. Maybe the reveal of his true character and nature made him seem so much more intimidating…and in turn, older. His dark curls framed his face as he gazed at you, patiently waiting for you to say what he was no doubt eagerly waiting to hear.
“Well…” he ran his eyes over your face. “Over the phone I asked if this was about our talk, and you said sort of, so naturally I became curious.”
You nodded at that, glancing away from him and taking in the silence of your house. Your girls were asleep, and you envied them in this moment. You envied their innocence and their complete ignorance of what was going on around them and their own part in it. You would never in a million years tell them what you were about to put yourself through just to protect them and their quality of life, but you hoped they’d grow up to understand the lengths you would go to for them.
You swiped your tongue between your lips.
“I wanted to tell you face to face that you were right,” you finally said, looking at him.
Peter’s face was hard to read, but there was a noticeable glint in his dark eyes that made your heart stutter. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he straightened, and it made him appear taller. You felt so small and insignificant beneath his gaze, and you desperately tried to remember what you were doing and why you were doing it. Peter had seamlessly shifted the power dynamic—and in the worst way possible—and you desperately needed to have the upperhand again.
“When I chose to be a single mom…I did it with no regrets and because it was genuinely what I wanted.”
Peter leaned in a bit, and you spoke up.
“...and so…determined to prove something, I think that I never even really considered the possibility of more. Of more helping hands, of more comforting figures in their lives, of more…love that could be given to my girls,” you continued, looking between his eyes. “...and me.”
Peter wasn’t saying anything, and you felt a stab of panic, wondering if he saw through you.
“You were right. You are so good to them…and me, and it’s terrifying not only because it’s new but also because it’s you.”
You abruptly stood, turning away from him.
“You’re so much younger and I hired you and Peter, you have to understand,” your voice cracked as you stared at the wall. “You have to understand how I’m feeling because this makes me look and feel like some predator, like-.”
You cut yourself off when familiar hands took your arms, forcing you to face him, and you watched the way Peter’s expression softened with one look at your face.
“I know that I said some unkind things, but this situation is very tricky and scary and has the potential to really change my life in a way that can’t be undone or at the very least not for years and years to come-.”
“I know that,” he whispered, finally speaking again. “Trust me, I understand-.”
“You say that, but if this doesn’t work out, you're not the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout. Do you truly understand how people will see me? It doesn’t matter that this was reciprocated. Cougar will be one of the nicer words I’ll be referred to as…”
Your words died in your throat as Peter gently shushed you, one hand coming up to graze your now tearful cheek. The way he looked at you told you that he believed everything you were saying, but you couldn’t be sure. He leaned in a tad, and on instinct, you turned your face away. Your gaze lowered to focus on the floor, and you felt Peter’s breath on your face as he sighed.
“No. You’re not the kind of woman to just jump into something like this, and I should have known that,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “I should’ve known that you would panic and freak out and follow your initial instinct of rejecting this in every way you can.”
The younger man rubbed your arms, hands gently sliding up and down over the fabric of your sleeves, and you shuddered.
“You’re smart about things, and it’s why I love you,” he murmured, making your stomach churn. “I should have thought about that, gone about this differently.”
You finally met his gaze, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he looked at you. It reminded you of that night—or what you could remember from it, anyway—and the morning after and the day at the restaurant. One of his hands tightened on your arm, and you swallowed at the position you put yourself in.
“...but you don’t understand what you do to me,” Peter chuckled.
It was light, and his teeth winked at you, and his eyes gleamed in a way that terrified you. It didn’t matter what you believed because Peter believed he was in love with you and was the one for you and was the best father for your girls. His mind was made up, and you felt that you should’ve accepted as such when he went through such great lengths to back you into a corner.
He handled this whole ordeal like a man with nothing to lose, and you supposed that in a way, that was true. In this scenario, you were the one with way more to lose. If this ever got out, you would be the villain in this story, and it was something that Peter had so eloquently thrown in your face.
“I don’t think I can say I regret confronting you like I did at the restaurant,” he confessed, his thumb brushing along your lip. “...but believe it or not, I didn’t take pleasure in putting things into perspective for you like that.”
So that was what he was calling it.
“I don’t take pleasure in hurting you in any way, even if it is only making you uncomfortable for a short while, but I needed to make you understand. Understand what you mean to me and what I would do to have you.”
When his lips gently brushed along yours, you let him kiss you.
“You don’t even know the things I would do for you—the things I have done for you,” he whispered into the kiss, and you couldn’t stop your form from trembling.
Peter noticed, and he made a humming noise.
“There are a lot of things for you to fear in this world, but now that we see eye to eye, I’ll never be one of them.”
You felt tears kiss your eyes as he tried to kiss you again, but spoke, effectively halting his movements.
“It’s not you I’m afraid of, Peter.”
A lie.
He seemed to understand what you were getting at, and he chuckled again. The dark-haired man pulled back some to gaze at you like you were so silly, and you hated how boyish that smile made him.
“You’re it for me, Y/N. Don’t you get that? Hmm?”
He held your gaze with his own dark one.
“Whatever comes of this, you’ll never have to doubt my loyalty. I’m going to be by your side when things inevitably progress into something more public, and I will make sure that whatever those…” he took a deep breath, lip curling over his teeth. “...women put you through, it will be worth it.”
His brows drew together as he fought to make you believe his words.
“I swear to you, now that it won’t hold a candle to coming home to me everyday. I’m going to make you so happy that whatever they have to say won’t mean a thing to you.”
Peter kissed you again then, deeply inhaling.
“I’m not going anywhere…”
You knew that those words—if nothing else—were true, and that was what you hated.
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You stood with your arms around yourself as you watched Peter bring a suitcase into the house. You had prepared yourself for this, anticipating by all of his actions so far that Peter was not one to take things slow. Or at least, he didn’t want to take things slowly with you. Besides, if you were going to get your hands on every copy of that tape he possibly had, then you needed to be up under each other’s noses.
You needed him to be comfortable enough to bring his things—his laptop—into your house and not spare your proximity a second thought. When he caught your eye, you gave him a gentle smile, and while he was slow to return it, he eventually did. You took your time in nearing him.
“I know how nervous this makes you,” he told you, and he reached for your face. “It’s okay. We’ll be discreet for a while, and I’ll gradually make myself at home, and when the time is right…”
He trailed off, a secretive smile dancing on his lips at the thought of going public with you one day.
“Thank you,” you finally replied. “You don’t even understand how much that puts me at ease, Peter. Especially since I know how difficult this is for you.”
The look he gave you encouraged you to elaborate, and so you did.
“While I might not completely understand it just yet, you do love me, and it can’t be easy hiding a relationship with someone you care about so much.”
You noticed the way his face fell a bit at that, and you reached out to rest your hand on his arm.
“I don’t doubt that you want to navigate like any other couple in the world, but you’re being considerate of me and how this will affect me, and it means a lot.”
You stepped closer, and you watched Peter’s eyes drink in the action.
“You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him.
At that, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you played with the fabric of his sweater.
“...and I’m sorry that I let my fear and panic prevent me from seeing that before.”
You watched him take a deep breath, dark eyes still trained on you.
“It’s okay,” he quietly told you. “I forgive you for that, you don’t have to…”
He shook his head.
“Don’t apologize for it.”
You took his hand, and Peter was eager in threading his fingers through yours. He pulled you along up the stairs to unpack, and you told yourself that smiling in his face and kissing him with your eyes closed and telling him what he wanted to hear was the easy part. As you walked down the hall—Peter taking the lead—you reminded yourself that the hard part was only just beginning. 
The real challenge would come in cohabitating with him like he was someone you cared about. The truly hard part of all this would come when he wanted to shower together and wrap his arms around you in bed and pull you against him like you were any average couple in love. 
When he wanted to have sex with you.
This would go beyond just acting, but you would have to fully embody someone else—someone who cared about this man almost as much as he cared about you but was simply hesitant and nervous. You would have to take on an entirely new persona, and to make it all the more challenging, you had to do it in enough time to get what you needed before he wanted this relationship to go public.
…because you didn’t care what Peter said.
He wasn’t going to be content with keeping this between you forever.
You hadn’t missed the way he’d said Bucky’s name at that restaurant. There were more sides to Peter you hadn’t been privy to yet, and you hoped to God that you never would be, but you knew without a doubt that there was a part of Peter that wanted to show this entire town you belonged to him. Peter had never struck you as that kind of man, but then again, there were a lot of things about him that you absolutely would have never guessed.
As you helped him unpack what he brought over, you tried to keep your face even at the sight of clothes and toiletries and nothing else.
“I’ll have to tell Nat that I rehired you, of course,” you said to him, hesitantly glancing his way. “It seems silly to have you hide away any time she comes over.”
Peter found that funny for some reason, and he nodded.
“Of course. What are you going to tell her when she asks why?”
You stewed on that for a moment.
“I haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll tell her that I just really need you around, right now,” you eventually came up with, and it wasn’t a lie.
“Well, it’s not a lie,” he said, voicing your own thought. “You do need me.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, pausing in his unpacking to give you his attention. Peter’s intentions were pretty clear, and you didn’t doubt that said intentions had been on his mind from the moment you’d uttered the words ‘you were right’ earlier. While you knew that it would eventually come to that—probably as soon as hours from now—you weren’t mentally prepared. You couldn’t make your body do that, right now, and so you hurried to ruin his mood.
“I’ll have to tell Bucky the same…”
Your words had the desired effect, and you relaxed a little when Peter froze. He lifted his head from the crook of your neck to rest his chin on it, and while you had expected several things, you hadn’t expected the next words that came from his mouth.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Mr. Barnes to come by here, anymore.”
You couldn’t stop your frown at that, and you pulled away just a little to turn and face him. Peter’s visage was entirely serious, and your frown deepened as you realized this. His expression didn't relent at all the longer you stared at him, and you were the one to break the tense silence.
“Peter…”
“I’m serious,” he confirmed, moving to finish unpacking the rest of his clothes. “Now that our relationship has evolved, I don’t want him coming by here anymore.”
“...but he’s my friend.”
The younger man gave a scoffing bark of a laugh at that, and you watched him run his hand through his thick curls.
“Friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”
The humor disappeared from his features by the time he looked at you again.
“He’s your friend because you didn’t want more with him. If you had, he wouldn’t be your friend right now, and we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”
You blinked at that.
“The kind that would involve me telling you to break up with him because I actually dislike sharing.”
His tone was serious, and you swallowed as he stared you down. Your lips parted, and you snapped them shut, thinking over your next words carefully.
“If I suddenly stop being friends with him, it’ll be very suspicious, Peter.”
He stared at you for what felt like too long, expression unmoving before his lips suddenly pulled into a small smile.
“While true, I imagine that him walking in on you coming around me would be even more suspicious.”
His words had you blinking furiously, but before you could respond to such a thinly veiled threat, you heard a familiar cry. The curly-haired young man didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing in favor of checking on whichever twin had woken up from her nap first.
You were still tense from his parting words, and telling yourself that you needed to pick your battles wisely, you softly sighed.
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You knew that you couldn’t just outright ask Peter to delete that video. It was so brazenly stupid that not only would Peter accuse you of not trusting him, but he might even suspect this whole thing was an act. He’d be right, of course, and it was why you had to convincingly get him settled into a comfortable lull. 
…and you had to do that by committing to doing things you weren’t comfortable doing.
Your fingers clawed at your sheets as Peter’s tongue swiped between your folds and pressed itself into your core. Your girls were down for the night, and you knew that as soon as they were, and dinner was done and put away, Peter would waste no time in reaching out for what he felt now belonged to him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened,” he’d murmured to you, humming at the taste of wine on your lips.
You’d concluded that you needed something in your system if you were to commit to this.
“The sounds you made, the way you tasted on my lips,” he’d breathed into your mouth. “The way you felt wrapped around me.”
He’d taken a reprieve on the stairs, just pinning you against the wall and kissing you. His hands hadn’t stayed in one place for long, touching every inch of you that he could, and when he seemed satisfied, he continued in pulling you towards your bedroom.
“Fuck,” he’d swore into the kiss the moment you were through the threshold. “I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”
The moments that followed bled together into one long endless pleasurable moment. You didn’t know if it was a relief or not that Peter was so skilled and so determined to make you come undone. You found it shockingly easy to surrender to his ministrations, unable to swallow down your moans and whimpers as he ate you out.
His tongue—so warm and firm—greedily lapped at you, and his fingers pressed into your thighs so hard that you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises in the morning. Your chest arched as you squirmed on the bed, and unable to help yourself, one of your hands found it’s way to his curls. Peter hummed against your cunt, and you knew that he liked that.
You confirmed as much when he reached up to find your other hand before forcing it to find a home in his hair right next to your other one. You were completely naked—Peter having wasted no time in getting your clothes off of you—but your nudity did nothing to cool you down. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you absentmindedly recalled that Peter was only partially undressed.
It seemed that he only just remembered that too, and when he pulled his mouth away from you, you were ashamed of the stab of disappointment that tore through you. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, and you blinked as you watched him sit up before getting undressed.
He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he did, pulling his lip between his teeth as he rejoined you on the bed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The wine in your system definitely helped you to relax, but if you were honest, it did more than that. Playing this part came to you easier than you anticipated, and that worried you a little. Maybe even scared you a little.
The younger man was gentle in running his hand up your leg, fingers dancing along your skin as he did so. His dark eyes appeared even darker if that were at all possible, and in this moment, it was evident that Peter cared about nothing more than he did the thought of being inside of you again.
Glancing down, you caught sight of his cock—erect and wet at the very tip and just waiting to fill you up.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, reaching for your face.
When he kissed you, you didn’t swallow down your hum in time, and your throat vibrated as it climbed out of your mouth and into the kiss. Peter’s entire body covered yours as he made himself comfortable on top of you, and—playing your part—you rested your hands on his back. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you.
Peter didn’t waste any more time.
Forcing your knees to hook over his arms, Peter lifted his hips and dipped his cock into you with one smooth thrust. A choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time. Your hands slid over him, unsure of what to grasp onto, and you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that started to fall from your lips.
Peter was fucking you with the assured confidence that he finally had you.
The strained grunts that left his mouth were in time with every push of his cock, and you were almost ashamed of how wet you were. Although, you supposed that it would only prove to help you in convincing Peter this was genuine. You were literally dripping around him, and you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were playing a part. That you were doing what you needed to do to earn his trust and get him to let his guard down.
Although that was easier said than done when his lips kept seeking yours out. Every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasped again when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin there. His toned chest repeatedly brushed against yours with every movement, and the gentle stimulation against your hardened buds made you shudder beneath him.
Every time he dipped his cock into you, the sound reached your ears…and his too.
“You’re dripping for me,” he whispered into the kiss. “I love how wet you are.”
You wanted to come up with something to say to reel him in more, but you were genuinely at a loss for words. It was hard to focus on anything besides the feel of him stretching you out.
“I’m so glad you came around, So glad,” he murmured, kissing you over and over and over again. “I really…I really didn’t want to do things the hard way.”
Your bed shook beneath you as Peter pounded into you, his curls tickling your skin.
“You may not believe that, but it’s true.”
He finally paused, holding himself inside of you as he pulled his head back some. He stared into your eyes—both of your chests heaving—and he looked between them as you struggled to catch your breath.
“I meant it when I said I don't take pleasure in hurting you. That’s not something that makes me happy,” he said through uneven breaths.
He slowly pulled his hips back before snapping them against you again, and you gasped. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, carefully watching your face.
“...but I’ll do what I have to. You understand?”
He didn’t give you time to respond.
“I’m smart, and you know it, and I know you know it.”
Your nails dragged along his skin as he thrust into you slowly, taking his time in pushing the length of him into you.
“So if all of this is just you playing at something, then you need to be prepared to play at it for the rest of your life,” he whispered to you, staring into your eyes. “...because you don’t know the things I’ve done to protect you.”
Your wide eyes looked between his at that.
“...and I’ll do worse to keep you.”
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magnusbae ¡ 2 years ago
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The world was on fire and no one could save me but you 🖤
🖤 What a wicked thing to do, 🐇 🐇 to make me dream of you 🖤
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🖤 What a wicked thing to say, 🐇
🐇 you never felt this way 🖤
#I AM LOSING MY SHIT MAYHEM I AM LOSING MY FUCKING SHIT ALRIGHT? I turned the PC on for you I turned the PC on for you I put everything away#directly into your EAR— What are you DOING?! Are you trying to kill me?! You ARE killing me!! I went rogue yesterday and you just happily#followed—! And it seems like you'll drag Mare by the throat along too (gently.)(gently.) LISTEN TO ME. Listen to me now. -cracks fingERs-#Dream's expression is a mixture of helpless resignation. Like he is finally giving in to the fact that his nemesis—his sworn enemy—#has such a hold over his heart—over his soul—that he'd make /him/— Dream—Betray everything. Dream wished for it to be the other way around.#To break him— to make //him// (Hob) betray all he believed in— to chose him so he could ruin him proper. But with Hob pressed to him—#Rough hands holding with possession— with—love? Twisted wicked love— but lover nevertheless. Dream finally— /yields/. Even if just#for a moment. even if just for now. He gives under Hob's touch. Allowing himself weakness. Allowing himself what he sees as softness.#Allowing himself /ruin/. It's still coiled hot iron. But there's something more. Where Dream would have watched the world burn before—#/Now he'd watch it burn for Hob./— THIS IS THE SORT OF PLAY DREAM WOULD WANNA PLAT. He'd create them /history/ in the Dreaming.#Long and soaked with blood and betrayal history. Heated fucks in the dark of the night because they just can't help each other.#And yet if someone where to hurt Hob? Dream would kill them. 'Who did this to you' with nemesis. Only I am allowed to hurt you. No one else#This is of course ROLE PLAY this is the sort of dramatic elaborate play Dream would want to explore. Like the 'What if we were enemies'#'What if we hated each other—/unless/—!?' The DRAMA. THE SUSPENSE. The need for self ruin and sALVATION. From the same person.#Needing to be saved so badly you'd ruin everything you touch. Wanting to see the world burn and wanting /that person/ to be thelast you see#Dream wishing to conquer to break to possesses— Dream allowing Nightmare out— for he is as much of him as the other half is.#Dream still falling helplessly in love and FORCED into accepting his nemesis will on him. And Hob— Hob who feels so strongly about him.#Who has no idea what is love and hate anymore. What is loyalty. What is right or wrong. He knows in the privacy of his head that he'd DIE.#He'd DIE for him. They have nothing together. No life. No relationship. Not even friendship. But he's the only person he still knows and#he'd BURN FOR HIM. — (( I AM A NORMAL HUMAN BEING ABOUT IT OKAY HAHAHAH!!!!!!!!! THIS IS RP- they ofc can also just play other nemesis plot#BUT THIS IS THE PLOT I WISHED TO PASS!!!!! Okay!!! there can be recreational moment of their fight etc etc BUT FOR NOW THIS IS WHAT I WANT#tsm art#dreamling#the sandman#THIS IS HALF RECREATED AS TUMBLR APPARENTLY ONLY ALLOWS 30 (i will censor what i feel about it) SO PART OF THE INSANITY WAS LOST BUT I DID#MY BEST TO RECRIATE IT AS BEST i COULD BECAUSE THIS ART MADE ME WANT TO START BITING PEOPLE OKAY OKAY OKAY :))))))))))))) I AM PERFECTLY OK#mayhem change your url into MENACE I swear from one hand theres cubism from the other mayhem it's like insanity all around#i am the only one normal :)) —famous last words#Silly Rabbit au#buns.t
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stclaretarot ¡ 1 month ago
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PICK A CARD ⭒ A SURPRISE IN THE NEXT SIX MONTHS!
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reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.
BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!
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GROUP ONE
cards pulled ¡ seven of cups, page of pentacles, five of cups, eight of cups (reversed), spellcasting oracle: career, beauty, passion. 
channelled songs · i know him so well by whitney houston. love me by 112 & mase. you’ve got the love by florence + the machine. regular - english version by nct 127. 
my dear group one ♡ in the next six months, you will receive a surprise in your career! this is a new job based on looks -- others looks, if not your own. 
this may be a career in modelling, acting, or sales. it is something where you are as much the product “being sold” as you are the seller. or this may be a career where you are focused on beauty, on bringing out the beauty of others, such as a beautician, makeup artist, or stylist. 
for some in this group, you may be getting the opportunity to work with a celebrity client or as part of a truly MAJOR campaign. a national or international campaign.
while this may not lead to a life of fame and renown, or make you an overnight success, but it will be a point of turnaround in your career as it will set the foundation for your future. it will lead to better things, introducing you to better opportunities, and helping you in establishing a brand new clientbase. 
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GROUP TWO
cards pulled ¡ seven of swords, five of wands (reversed), knight of pentacles, spellcasting oracle: wellbeing, truth, trust. 
channelled songs ¡ white xmas by sabrina carpenter. jiu by lay. starry eyes by the weeknd. forget her by jeff buckley. 
my dear group two ♡ in the next six months, you will be surprised the places that your impulsive decisions take you! these are quick, last-minute decisions that will lead to an abundance of (good) consequences. 
this may be with regard to impulsively taking a job, or going on a trip, or moving somewhere you, or starting a relationship. even just accepting an invite or attending an event you suddenly felt like attending. just something you do on a whim that you would likely not usually do. 
this decision will be as unnerving and overwhelming as it will be fun, as if you are unsure of why you even made this decision or chose to do what you chose to do. you may find yourself saying things like, “what am i doing? i can’t handle this. i need to return to my normal life.” 
but you need to put your trust in yourself, and in the divine, and know that these decisions are all good ones that you have made. 
honestly, in short, this surprise is one in which you will be surprising yourself!
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GROUP THREE
cards pulled ¡ two of cups, the moon, eight of pentacles, spellcasting oracle: love, beauty, answers. 
channelled songs ¡ nightmares by the sea - original mix by jeff buckley. dive into you by nct dream. applause by lady gaga. the way things are by fiona apple. 
my dear group three ♡ in the next six months, you will be receiving a surprise in love! 
this love that is coming towards you is love that is happening an extremely unexpected way. there are things happening behind the scenes, with several people working to bring you and another person together. there are several people who want to see you and a particular person in a relationship with each other, and so they are pulling strings to get you two to meet each other and go on a date. 
this may be somebody you meet at work or through a co-worker, or, in a similar vein, may be someone a close friend knows through work. 
for some, this surprise in the next six months will be two-fold as this person is going to be revealed as a soulmate. 
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GROUP FOUR
cards pulled ¡ six of cups, the emperor, the sun (reversed), seven of wands, spellcasting oracle: boundaries, peace, love. 
channelled songs ¡ flaming hot cheetos by clairo. dead of night by orville peck. dream run by nct dream. wonderkinz* by poptropicaslutz!
my dear group four ♡ in the next six months, you will be surprised with a reconciliation. 
this is a reconciliation you may, at one point in your life, have prayed and begged god for. but, now, at the time of the reconciliation, it holds no power over you -- to such an extent that, in some regard, you may have completely forgotten about this person, this relationship, and what they meant (or could have meant) to you. 
for some, this may be a romantic connection, but for most of you, this is a reconciliation with a parent/parent figure. particularly a father/father figure. 
this is a reconciliation that will act as more of a point of closure, of saying goodbye, than of starting things anew. and, with this reconciliation, you may receive proof that this person truly holds no place in your life, and choose to once and for all cut this person out of your life. to once and for all, free yourself from this connection and the hold this person had on you. 
you are setting boundaries and committing to it. you will be surprised how your life will blossom when you do so; when you commit to yourself and your highest good. 
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auroreliis ¡ 3 months ago
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what if reader had k*lled someone before and the batfam (yandere) dis not know like ÂŤI dont need your damn protectionÂť reader said to the batfam ÂŤbut the world is so dangerous out there and your just a babyÂť the batfam said to reader ÂŤ B!TCH I have k*lled someone the f you mean im a baby?!?Âť the batfam with horrified expresion ÂŤWHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!Âť
That last little part is a funny little over dramatic way it might go.
Oh, you are COOKED. (Do pardon my use of brainrot language...)
CW: mentions of murder...obviously
The first thing they do is isolate you in a room and keep you there for a while until they figure out what to do with you (and so you can think about what you've done).
What happens next? Therapy sessions, which they all agreed on.
Don't worry, you will tell them everything, specifically Bruce, since he's the one carrying out the therapy sessions.
"Why did you kill that person?"
"How do you feel about it now?"
"Do you regret it?"
"How do you feel after our conversation?"
He pities the person you ended up killing and feels a little disappointed. A life was taken by you, an innocent person's life. He didn't raise you like this, did he...?
However, he also pities you. Unless you are trained to kill someone, it breaks you. He's seen it so many times, people commiting murders and then panicking, breaking down, because they couldn't live with the consequences of their actions.
You're a mere civilian, how could you ever have been exposed to that kind of environment? How could he let this happen? No, it is his fault for waiting so long before saving you from the world. He will teach you why it's wrong. He will make sure you heal and never take another life again. After all, it is his job as your father to guide you in life.
That's right, the only reason you could've done it is because you didn't know any better. You are a mere child in this old, cruel world, after all.
In the end, he holds himself accountable. He should've done better. He should've protected you better from the cruel world you live in.
Dick would be shocked. His little birdie, his angel, killed someone? Impossible. You're so innocent, like a baby, so how could this be true? He would take some time off to come to terms with the fact that you're not the kind of person he expected. When he comes back, after a week, he seems slightly distant.
With time, following your therapy sessions, he will return to his normal, clingy, annoying self. However, you can't help but wonder why he was acting so weird that one week.
Despite the fact that he also kills people, Jason is incredibly suprised and disappointed after hearing that you killed someone. Unlike everyone else, he feels anger. You're so young, so innocent, you grew up in a place where murdering someone was not necessary, so why would you do it? He doesn't kill people because he wants to, he only does it because he needs to. But you didn't need to do it.
That's what upsets him most. You chose to do it. You willingly took a life.
Despite being so hurt, so broken, he still feels an ounce hesitation when killing people, so how come you, someone who didn't go through what he did, could kill someone in a situation that wasn't even self-defense? Nothing could possibly justify it! And here you are, proudly announcing it to them. You should be ashamed.
He kills murderers, so what should he do with you? Does that make you as bad as the criminals he kills? God, he doesn't even want to think about it.
Jason won't get over it for at least a month. He'll be very distant around you and won't be seen smiling for a long time. Towards you exclusively, his behaviour becomes incredibly bitter. In fact, he's the one who most strongly encourages Bruce to carry out the long, grueling therapy sessions. He really thinks it'll do you good...
Tim's reaction would be more mild than expected. He would certainly feel uncomfortable with the fact that you seemingly feel not an ounce of guilt or regret. However, he wouldn't change his behaviour too much for too long.
During the first week, he'd be a bit more careful with his affection towards you. No, it's not because he's scared. He simply wants to observe you and see how effective the therapy sessions are. If he feels that your attitude towards murder hasn't changed, he would encourage Bruce to be more intense during the therapy sessions.
He would be more careful with the activities he offers you, since Bruce called a meeting with everyone to establish more rules, those being directed at Tim mostly. Tim's "cool, lenient older brother"-act needs to change.
From now on, no crime films or shows (especially not any violent ones), no crime documentaries, no crime or detective books, no vular language, no threats towards anyone or anything and for at least 14 months, no leaving the manor.
This change will probably be permanent.
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lyvhie ¡ 5 months ago
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— perv!dreamies headcanons
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nct dream x fem!reader (18+ mdni) a/n: guys is that a hc or a scenario helppp. anywaysss, that's for all of you cuties who filled my asks with perv!dreamies requests after i reblogged a haechan's post about that BUT I'M JUST A READER I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING THIS THING SO SO SO SO PLEASE BE KIND THAT ONE WAS HAAARDDD!!! and sorry for the recent inactivity, i'm kinda having a life crisis again haha... 😓 cw: perv behavior ofc, voyeurism, masturbation, coercion (chenle), kinda somnophilia i guess (renjun), panty stealing (& lmk if i forgot some!)
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for many reasons, you were CHENLE's favorite maid. you were an exemplary employee. not only were you punctual, attentive, and skilled in your work, but you also showed a level of obedience that was unmatched by the other maids.
he took notice of it almost immediately. whatever he said or asked, you would always respond like a perfectly trained dog. no matter how trivial or senseless the task, you would always comply without question. you never showed any signs of frustration or hesitation, even when he was intentionally demanding or unreasonable. it was almost uncanny how you would immediately drop whatever you were doing in order to fulfill his every command, no matter how demeaning or time-consuming.
chenle soon discovered the reason behind your obedience. it was a simple explanation – you desperately needed that job. your family's mounting debts hung over your head, leaving you with no choice but to cling fiercely to your only source of money. then, he decided to push your limits just for his own entertainment. he would order you to stand in the corner facing the wall for an hour without moving, rearrange his library alphabetically, dust the ceiling, even though there's no visible dirt or dust.
indeed, you never resisted or questioned any of his demands; you were the epitome of obedience. he ceased his mean streak and shifted his focus to a far more interesting activity: your uniform. he imagined you wearing a much sexier gown, the skirt barely reaching mid-thigh, complemented by a deep neckline that would reveal more of your cleavage.
and chenle was completely right. he loved the sight of you climbing steps with a duster in hand, cleaning a spot that was conveniently out of reach. with your new, skimpier attire, it allowed him a perfect view of your panties. every time you bent over, he couldn't resist sneaking a glimpse of your chest or your ass.
however, that entertainment eventually lost its luster; he craved more than just watching you. it was then that he gently pressed your back against the wall and ground his body against yours, the bulge on his pants rubbing your thighs, peppering kisses along your neck.
you weren't particularly welcoming, but he presented you with a choice: you could be a good girl and let him have his fun, and in return, he would even give you a raise; or he could fire you without hesitation.
needless to say what you chose.
your close friend, JAEMIN, who happened to be a talented photographer, had always held you in high regard. since the beginning, he had "admired and respected your unique presence", as he said, seeing you as his primary source of inspiration and even his muse. whenever he approached you with the request to be his model for his photography sessions, he didn't have to work hard to convince you, knowing well that your nature as a people pleaser made it near impossible for you to say no.
initially, the photography sessions appeared normal. you felt a bit out of place, uncertain about what to do with your body and how to pose naturally. you were somewhat stiff, unsure of how to act. jaemin, however, noticed your discomfort and stepped in to help. he reassured you to relax and simply be yourself, advising you not to overthink. from time to time, he gently guided you into various poses, giving constructive feedback to help you loosen up. and it worked, you found yourself getting more relaxed and even feeling proud of yourself as he showered you with compliments.
once jaemin noticed you were becoming more at ease in front of the camera, a mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. over time, the clothing options for your photoshoots grew increasingly provocative and sensual.
low-cut dresses and revealing shirts highlighted your cleavage, while miniskirts and tiny shorts barely concealed your underwear. the transition from fully clothed to almost baring it all happened so gradually and naturally that you scarcely noticed. the entire process was efficient and seamless, and by the time you realized it, you were left in your lingerie — that he picked personally —, not having fully grasped the incremental removal of your clothes.
jaemin couldn't believe his luck during each shoot. the images he captured of you had inadvertently become fodder for his… private pleasure. the provocative poses he carefully orchestrated provided him with a treasure trove of material to fuel his fantasies. whether it was admiring your form or imagining scenarios involving you, the photos served his purpose well.
he found himself losing count of the numerous times he'd jerked off to images of you, his restraint wearing thin. the proximity and yet the distance from you that he endured at each shoot became increasingly unbearable. the need to feel your touch, to physically be with you, had reached a breaking point. his thoughts filled with the sweet sounds he longed to draw from your lips, and he realized the urgent necessity to move beyond mere pictures and experience the real thing.
then, the shoots took a drastic turn once the sessions started to delve into a more… intimate territory. now, you posed fully exposed, completely naked, bared before the camera like a blank canvas. you couldn't quite understand how he had managed to persuade you to willingly embrace nudity, considering it was something you'd never thought you could do in your life. however, his prowess with words coupled with your own tendency to give in to them had ultimately led you down this path.
as always, jaemin relished these moments of freedom to touch you, his deft hands roaming over your body with the pretext of adjusting your poses. you, in your shyness, acquiesced to his actions without complaint, allowing him to do as he pleased under the guise of artistic direction.
he would tenderly stroke your thighs, gently spreading them apart, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his eyes feasted on the sight before him, his fingertips brushing against your cunt ever so slightly, eliciting a surprised gasp from your mouth. he would say some bullshit about creating the right atmosphere, a means to help you fully immerse yourself in the art or whatever, while his actions spoke louder than his words.
you didn't even know exactly what to do or think when, suddenly, his warm tongue dove into your pussy. you instinctively attempted to close your legs, only to be held in place by jaemin's sturdy arms, which firmly kept you motionless. he eagerly and desperately lavied your sensitive flesh with his mouth, making you feel like his favorite meal that he couldn't get enough of, as if he had spent days starving and you were the first thing he could lay his hands on.
you were unaware of it, but jaemin had started recording the session since the very beginning. he seemed less interested in still photos, as he carefully recorded every moment — the soft gasps and subtle moans that escaped your lips, the expression of pleasure and wonder that crossed your face. he knew he would have plenty more material to enjoy in the days to come, once this session was done and, if he was even more lucky, you would become his favorite particular porn star.
you know, JISUNG is not intentionally like that, it's just that he becomes uncontrollable when he's around you. you're his first girlfriend, and often, he wonders how he got so lucky to land a hottie like you, because you're the girl he's always dreamed of having.
being his first relationship, he's still learning how to navigate things and isn't quite sure how to express his desires. since it's still early in the relationship, he hesitates to speak up about his wants and doesn't think the time is right yet. as a result, his mind often drifts to imagining... certain scenarios, even during the most innocent of interactions with you.
are you eating ice cream? he can't help but imagine how cute you would look with your soft lips wrapped around his cock as he fucks your throat and watches your eyes fill up with tears. tying your hair to do household chores? you would look so good with his fingers tangled in your locks as he pounded you from behind against the kitchen counter, pressing your face on the cool surface as he listen to your moans. do you need a shoulder massage? he can't help but notice how his large hand can easily encircle your neck, thinking about how this is such a perfect spot to hold onto when he's inside you and how good it will feel.
sigh… at the end of the day, the only thing he ends up fucking is his own fist. and that's exactly what he was doing now, but this time it was different, because you were right there beside him, peacefully sleeping in his bed, making it the first time you stayed over. he was happy because he could finally cuddle and hold you throughout the whole night.
but there was also a problem because he could finally cuddle and hold you throughout the whole night. as soon he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, his hormones were already stirring. the moment you snuggled against him, he could feel his boxers getting too tight for comfort, your ass pressing against his growing bulge in a way that was just too good.
he was both grateful and a bit frustrated that you were already asleep. he wondered what would happen if you were to notice his struggles, but he was the only one who could find relief at the moment. that's what led him to the situation he was in now, secretly-not-so-secretly touching himself right next to you while admiring your tiny, thin pajamas that served as such a nice visual material for him.
the clothes in question was a pair of thin, soft fabric shorts combined with a spaghetti strap top. the shorts were short and snug, leaving very little to the imagination. the thin material seemed almost translucent in certain lights, barely concealing what was underneath. the spaghetti strap top revealed just the right amount of shoulder and cleavage, adding to the overall alluring effect.
he wanted to touch you so bad, to taste you, to feel you around him. he would give anything to fill you up with his cum, stuff you until it was leaking out of your tight pussy, just for him to push it inside you again and make you take everything he has to give you. he arched back, head thrown back in ecstasy, his hips bucking upward as he climaxed and, before he could think properly, he was already shooting ropes of cum all over your sleeping face.
he knew he just did something weird and wrong, and he felt guilty, but… you looked incredibly hot and cute all at once like that. he almost became hard again, but then you started to stir, and he immediately froze. if you woke up right now, how on earth would he explain what he had just done?
he was on the verge of panicking when he noticed you had stopped stirring, still sleeping peacefully. he let out a sigh of relief, but then he quickly remembered a new problem: how exactly was he supposed to clean you up now?
HAECHAN was glad and thankful that god made you dumb, otherwise he would never get the chance to spend so much time with you and be alone in your room so many times, studying together for your exams.
when you approached him for assistance in raising your grades, haechan thought he was dreaming. he pinched himself to make sure it was real, and without thinking twice he accepted your request.
haechan never thought he'd ever be in a girl's house, let alone your room. it was such a pleasant surprise to be there, surrounded by you. every time he was in your room, it almost felt like a paradise to him.
he loved being near you, so close that your scent would fill his nostrils. your shampoo, your perfume, and the strawberry flavored lip gloss on your lips… it was too much for him to bear. he couldn’t keep his gaze away from your cleavage, imagining what it would feel like to bury his face in your chest. or to be between your thighs, he didn't even need to eat you out (though it would be awesome too), just sniffing your sex scent would be enough... damn, he was hard again.
haechan almost missed your words, as you mentioned it was getting late and you had to go home, since you decided to study at haechan's place that day. despite his disappointment that you had to leave so soon, he was also glad, as now he could finally relieve the tightness in his pants.
he quickly opened his closet and grabbed a pair of your panties, the most recent one he had obtained. ever since the study sessions had begun, he made a habit of taking a pair of your panties from either your drawer or laundry basket whenever you left him alone in your room.
haechan wasted no time in pulling down his pants and releasing his throbbing cock, leaking with pre-cum. he rubbed the fluid all over his length as he brought the underwear to his face, pressing it against his nose and breathing deeply, inhaling your delicious scent. a soft moan escaping his lips as his hand began moving in a steady pace, while he slowly and intently breathed in your essence.
his hand moved with an ever-increasing speed, his mind filled with thoughts about you. he was so lost in the moment that he didn't even notice when you suddenly appeared in the doorway of his room, stunned by the view. you didn't mean to catch him like that, you had returned to pick up your keys, which you had left in the living room. however, you heard haechan calling (moaning) out to you from his room and...
he was caught completely off guard when you called his name, and his eyes widened in shock when he realized you were there. as much as he was startled and embarrassed, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. instead, his motions became even more urgent, the expression of slight disgust on your face was an unexpected turn-on to him. being watched like this made him peak faster than usual, bringing your panties to his cock, finishing on it as he always do, coating the cloth with his cum.
well, he can't even tell you that this isn't what it looks like.
as your best friend, RENJUN, always had your best interests at heart. you grew up with very strict parents who controlled your life and limited your experiences, leaving you as a naive adult. you only achieved your freedom when you moved out and shared an apartment with your dear friend, who was the first person to encourage you to leave and offered you unconditional support. he promised to stay by your side no matter what, and the two of you intended to stick together until you could afford separate places of your own.
he wasn't lying about being a safety net for you, just as he always had. he did want to protect you from your crazy parents, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to move in with him. now it was just you and him. all alone. the situation seemed like a dream come true for him, and he found himself clinging to you more than ever, enjoying the increased amount of time you spent together.
renjun had always been a touchy person, particularly with you. however, since you started to live together, it seems his touches have increased tenfold, taking advantage of your innocent view.
he seemed way more comfortable touching different parts of your body, always finding some excuse that you believed, as you trusted him and couldn't see any ill intent in his behavior. his hands would caress your belly, occasionally making their way to your ass, and if he felt bold, he even groped your breasts. despite his increasingly intimate touches, you dismissed his behavior as friendly affection. it wasn't that you didn't recognize the sexual undertones in his actions, but rather that you chose not to see them that way with him. you trusted him implicitly, blinding yourself to the true nature of his behavior.
he also developed a habit of sneaking peeks at you showering or changing, making it a regular occurrence. he even went as far as entering your room while you were asleep, getting off beside you and cleaning himself with one of your panties, then he would place the cloth back on your drawer, all so he could see you wearing them when he peeked under your dress the next day, smiling proudly at the thought that you didn’t even know his cum was all over it.
it's not like he really needs to fuck you, although he would love to, but just being close to you, holding you, touching you was enough. for example, when you're cuddling while watching a movie and you fall asleep, he always uses that opportunity to slide his dick between your thighs and fuck them, carefully in not moaning too loudly to not bother your sleep. it's always a nice experience and more than he could ever ask for, but he was sure that soon you would let him bury himself deep inside your pussy, he would make it happen no matter what
MARK's gaze was fixated on the window, shifting between your house and the nearby wall clock. it was a familiar routine now — every night at 8 pm, he waited expectantly, counting down the minutes until the moment you would cross the door to your room.
mark couldn't tell if you were truly unaware of his presence or if you were intentionally putting on a show, but he had to admit that he loved it. since you moved in, this had become an habit that he couldn't break not even if he wanted to. as soon as you turned on the lights, mark's pupils widened with excitement. "finally," he thought, scooting closer to the window and settling into his cushion, his eyes locked onto your every move.
you began the familiar routine by tossing your purse onto your bed, then you took a moment to stretch and untie your hair. but this was just foreplay to the main event — mark's favorite part had begun. it was the moment when the true magic happened. he sat back, ready to take in the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes.
as your hands lifted the hem of your shirt, a tantalizing reveal of your skin unfurled. mark could already feel his cock stirring inside his pants, his panting breaths becoming more pronounced. he observed the weariness on your face and noticed your deliberate pace. perhaps it was fatigue that slowed your movements, but he didn't mind. it gave him time to appreciate you even more.
he leaned in closer, his eyes devouring every inch of your body as you slowly removed your clothes. each moment was a delicious tease, building up the sensation within him. as soon as his eyes fell upon you in your lingerie, his pupils widened in surprise and desire. the garment was a new addition to your collection — and it was in his favorite color. he couldn't help but wonder if you had purchased it with him specifically in mind. the sight of you in that delicate lace and fabric heightened his arousal, making him ache with want.
his movements were automatic when he pulled down his pants and underwear just enough to free his aching cock, wrapping his hand around it. mark stroke his dick, his gaze remained fixated on you, refusing to move even an inch as he watched you undo the clasp of your bra. his lower lip caught between his teeth when he saw your perfect boobs jiggling softly as you moved around.
his eyes taking in the sight of your upper body, traveling down as you move your hands to reach the waistband of your panties, bending over to pull them down, giving him the chance to look at your ass and how your pretty pussy was being crushed between your thighs. he let out a low hiss through clenched teeth, his hand finding a steady rhythm as his breaths quickened, a soft moan of pleasure escaped his lips. his gaze fixed on you, his brow furrowing in desire. you were so beautiful, so gorgeous, so hot, so, so…. so everything!
it wasn't a want anymore, it was need. he needed you. he needed you so bad. he didn't even know your name, but he knew you were the one who could fulfill his desires.
he let out a disheartened whimper as you reached for your robe, the fabric concealing your lovely form and plunging the room into darkness, robbing him of the sight he yearned to behold. that was his least favorite part. he hated resorting to using his imagination, but in the absence of the real thing, he had no choice.
closing his eyes, he continued his movements, imagining how it would feel to kiss your lips, to make out with you until you gasped for breath. he thought about trailing his mouth down your body, giving your beautiful breasts the attention they so rightly deserve. he would love to have you squirming under him. he would get on his knees, wrap those gorgeous legs of yours around him and feast on you until you were shaking and screming out for more. he just knew you taste good.
he imagined how your voice would sound like when he slide deep inside you, feeling your heat envelop him like a glove. he started to buck his hips up, thrusting into his hand harder, his moans filling his room. he imagined how would it feel to have you clenching around him, how you would cry so prettily when he played with your sensitive bud until you cream his whole lenght. mark felt the familiar tightening of his balls, his entire body tensing until he finally came, smearing the white fluid all over his hand, his mouth open in a silent gasp. panting, he fell back onto the bed, his eyes still closed as he thought about how he couldn't wait for the next night.
after suffering an injury during practice, JENO found himself confined to a hospital bed for a few days of observation. at first, the prospect of spending time in a hospital seemed like the epitome of boredom and jeno was convinced it was the worst thing that could happen to him at the moment. however, that all changed when he met you, his sexy nurse.
suddenly, the hospital stay didn't seem so bad after all.
jeno found himself unable to keep his eyes off you, who frequently attended to him. he noticed the the gentle sway of you hips as you walked, and his eyes couldn't help but roam up and down your form when you bent over to adjust his pillows. whenever you spoke, his mind wandered to thoughts of how your lips would feel against his own.
you were consistently and diligently attentive to his needs, always arriving promptly whenever he rang for assistance. sometimes, he even displayed childish behavior when other nurses came to attend to him, insisting that only you were capable of addressing his concerns.
it didn't escape his notice that you were a relatively new nurse, experiencing your first time on the job. this realization sparked a sly plan in his mind, as he knew you might find it challenging to turn down his requests. he was fully aware of your inexperience, making him eager to push his limits and see how far he could go while you navigated your new role. he was determined to take advantage of the power dynamic, using your hesitation to explore the boundaries of what he could ask for and get away with.
for example, he would often ask for full body massages from you, and the sensation of your delicate hands roaming all over his body would drive him absolutely wild. with unabashed confidence, he'd make sure to vocalize just how much he loved the feel of your touch, complimenting you on your skillful hands and openly expressing his desire to return the favor.
one time, he pretended that his condition was more severe than it truly was, just so that he could have you attend to him during bath time. he, once again, relished the feeling of your hands gently cleaning him from head to toe, watching your shy expression while you attempted to maintain casual conversation, your focus interrupted by the sounds of pleasure that escaped his lips uncontrollably.
one time, after pretending his condition was more severe than it truly was, he got the chance to feel the heavenly sensation of having you run your hands over his body while you washed him. it was a brief but unforgettable experience as he savored every moment of your touch. he was so hard that it was painful. he loved how your shy expression couldn't quite hide your feelings while you tried to keep a casual conversation going, yout words faltering every time a sound of pleasure escaped his lips.
he would never forget the way you looked at him with surprise, shyness, and a hint of embarrassment when he came on your hand with just a few of your innocent touches. your eyes widened slightly and a shy, awkward, subtle smile formed on your lips as you look away briefly, trying to hide your reaction.
it was almost humorous how swiftly you completed the task of bathing him after that incident, as if you were eager to finish the job and move on quickly. in the days that followed, you seemed to make a conscious effort to minimize the time you spent in his room, probably to avoid any awkward or potentially embarrassing encounters.
he couldn't help but notice your attempts to distance yourself after the incident, but he had a plan in mind to fix this: he decided that you simply needed to get used to his requests, just as you had gotten used to fulfilling the other needs he'd asked for. what's more, he was determined to have some form of sexual contact with you before he left the hospital, and he was set on making it happen.
it was indeed a perfect opportunity. he called for you late in the night, knowing you were on the night shift and there would be no disruptions. he wasted no time in making his request clear: he needed you to get him off. he almost couldn't contain his amusement at the look of wide-eyed surprise on your face, quickly dismissing your denials with a simple explanation. he told you how he didn't have the strength to do it himself, how his weakened condition made it difficult for him to take care of himself in that way, how ill he felt, and how he needed release as a man, and that it was your duty as his nurse to help him.
his heart nearly skipped a beat and he felt something like fireworks going off inside his chest when he saw you bite your lower lip and give a small nod of agreement. once again, the hospital stay didn't seem so bad after all.
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ciciyup ¡ 7 months ago
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Yandere! Apollo X fem! Human reader headcanons.
cw: Little nsfw, obsession, possessiveness, dark themes, cheating? (I don't know how I should categorize it, but it's not a direct hoax), angst, kidnapping, forced marriage.
🏹 a/n: This is the first yandere! What do I do, I hope I did well. I was feeling quite inspired so I think a little story formed as well.
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Apollo has never been one to worry, he is the epitome of beauty, no other God in the pantheon was as beautiful as he was. Being surrounded by women and men who are not only there beside him, but also queue for his attention, is something Apollo enjoys, attention and all eyes on him was something he loved.
He doesn't need to lower himself and have less, he must have all the best, that includes the most beautiful people, which was not a problem. Nymphs, goddesses and even mortals, rained down on him in droves, although the latter could not matter less to him.
Sometimes, among the millions of mortals that inhabited the earth, Apollo chose those who could stand out the most and had a unique beauty to take them with him. Sure they had always been adventures, he had fun with them, but that was all.
On one of his many trips around the earth he found you. He saw you picking oranges from a large tree, carefully storing them in your basket that was almost full. You were... Perfect. Your hair moved in time with the pleasant breeze of the day, your eyes were brighter than the stars, your smile could heal sore eyes, your voice was like hearing the singing of angels. You were so beautiful.
He didn't care much about you at first if he had to admit it. You seemed very common, very normal, just another mortal woman, however, something made him go to you. He didn't need to do much, just introduce himself and talk nonsense. You were nothing but nice and kind, you offered to help him find his way if he was lost, you asked him if he was hungry and offered him an orange.
He just looked for silly excuses to make more time and get to know you better, he lamented when you told him that your family was waiting for you and you couldn't stay. He watched your form as you left his vision until you were lost, your beautiful floral dress disappearing into the crowd and being replaced by sad shades of colors from people walking on their own path.
What made you so special? Was it the way you were so kind and modest with everyone else? Was it the way you saw things? Apollo, not having enough, kept seeing you regularly on different occasions, strangely always appearing out of nowhere when you were alone in some places or doing your own tasks. At first, it didn't seem strange to you, you thought it was just a coincidence, which made Apollo take advantage of your naivety even more.
Apollo thought you would fall at his feet as soon as he saw you, he wouldn't even need three days to leave you enchanted, but then it happens and he hits reality. He discovers that you are not interested in him in the slightest, at least not in the way he wants. You don't even worship the gods, you're not interested in them, you don't bring offerings or pray to them like other mortals. You don't lose yourself in him, you don't beg for attention, you don't adore him, you just see him as if he were just another man and that made Apollo's blood boil.
So when Apollo proposes to you and to go with him, you politely decline, feeling flattered, but refusing because you don't love him and you don't feel the same way. Apollo's face contorts, his brow furrows quickly and he tries to hide his inner side as best he can. His ego felt hurt, was he rejected by a mere mortal?
You move on with your life, Apollo seemed to have taken it well and wasn't upset, that's what you believed after he left. When you think everything is fine, he arrives silently to take what is his, what belonged to him from the beginning. No more games, there would be no more facades of the just and understanding God, he lets the true face of the coin come to light, then you don't have time to react.
He takes you, sees you walking towards your house and surprises you there. Your basket falls with a thud and the fruit falls scattered all over the floor, but no one else was there anymore.
Upon arriving at his kingdom, Apollo introduces you to it as your new home, showing you all the places keeping you close, holding your wrist so you wouldn't run away, even though there was nowhere to run, you were too far from earth and you wouldn't be coming back, he would make sure of that.
You resist for a long time, you don't want to talk to him or look at him or kiss him or touch him, you don't want his presence. Apollo doesn't want to be mean to you, he really doesn't, but your impertinence pissed him off, and when you didn't learn things there were consequences.
He pushes you into a room after you refused to sleep with him in what would be your shared room, the room was cold and almost empty, it had a mirror and a small couch, it didn't seem to be very frequented by anyone, since you could even see cracks in the walls. He dared to leave you there for almost four days, without seeing you even once, without leaving you food or water or any other basic resources, and when he decided to see you, believing that you had learned your lesson, he found you on the floor of the room almost dying.
You were pale, your lips dry, you could barely move, your stomach hurt from the lack of food and your throat was crying out for some water.
As he carried you to his shared room and laid you there, as he watched you eat the food voraciously and drink more than six glasses of water, as he watched you rest covered by the finest and warmest blankets on his bed, yes, now you would learn that things would be his way, you had no say in any decision, you would only focus on him.
And even after you became his beloved, faithful and devoted wife with the finest jewelry and the most beautiful dresses, he would remain the same, not even for you would he change. As you sat on a rock in front of the beautiful landscape of the place thinking about everything he had taken from you, Apollo was no less than a meter away from you in the hot springs with the nymphs at his side, each one laughing and talking to him, hugging and tracing his chest with their thumbs at the slightest opportunity. He relaxed with each one, every now and then, ignoring your presence, ignoring your pain.
Still, he refused to let you go. He didn’t care about silly nymphs, they were just for hanging out and feeling adored, if he didn’t have you he had nothing. He wanted you by his side, in the hot springs, on another throne next to him, in meetings with other gods, he wanted you.
It was only a matter of time, he would fuck you so hard you would carry his child and then he would finally have you with no chance of escape. He would take you every night in his marital bed and fill your belly until it was full and swollen, he would bury himself deep inside you to fill you again and again with his seed and he would claim you. You were his. You were from the first moment he saw you.
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🏹 a/n: I didn't think I would like it so much but in the end I really liked the result. I wrote it in less than two hours, although it is revised I am sorry if there are any errors. I was thinking of doing more yandere! For other characters, I like the theme. I have ideas for the next one so wait for it (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
—cici🏹
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miraculouslbcnreactions ¡ 6 months ago
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Regarding the post about Marinette being punished for trusting people and the response to it, this is something I always have trouble explaining because it sounds callous? But fictional characters aren't people. It's not that their lives just so happen to get in the way leading to something bad happened the writers decided that should happen, and it's important that you stop and ask WHY this happens. If the camera is "on" per se, people assume it's relevant and will tie into something larger. So like if the camera is on and all we see is Alya revealing her identity and then the result is she's outed in the same way she was in Heroes Day, the audience naturally concludes it's connected and thus realizes the lesson is either "Alya learns she shouldn't share her identity" OR "Marinette learns she shouldn't trust people" or both.
Secret identities are a great example of this phenomenon. We're NOT shown every time a villain's plan is foiled because they didn't know the heroe's identity, we ARE shown every time a heroe's identity causes friction in their lives. As such, large parts of the audience think of secret identites as inconveniences because that's what's shown (not just in Miraculous Ladybug, in tons of other shows)
Like you are supposed to make connections in Television about what's being shown to you that no one would make in real life (or at the very least no one SHOULD make in real life) because there's a limited space to tell the story and the audience is assuming the writers aren't wasting our time.
If these were real people it would be unreasonable to say because people have their own lives Marinette can't trust them, but in a story where Marinette is the main character who is explicitly always supposed that's. An accurate way to read the story!
And I also understand that this is a very boring construction if you're making headcanons or thinking about these characters! But that's a different lens, it doesn't make the broader writing lens invalid. You're speaking different languages at that point.
Anyway I hope that helps someone, that's my two cents
You summed it up perfectly! There's a ton of valid criticism to be had of Miraculous, but you can tell from the narrative framing that almost all of it comes down to writing choices and not things that are supposed to be seen as in-universe issues even though a lot of fans treat them as such. It's really weird to see things like people complaining about everything revolving around Marinette as if it's a personal flaw of hers and not the result of her being the main character in a fictional world. "Main Character Syndrome" literally pulls its name from the fact that this is how main characters work in a lot of media. It's a flaw when a real person does it, but in terms of story telling, it's extremely normal - and often good story telling - to have everything revolve around your main character or a core cast.
The issue with Miraculous is that they chose a lot of poor conflicts if they wanted Marinette to be the one and only main character, but that's not her fault. She didn't decide to have the rules around identities make no sense. The writers did. She didn't decide to make the main villain Adrien's dad while also keeping Adrien from being involved in the story. The writers did. The list goes on and on and, because none of it reflects badly on Marinette in the writers' eyes, the show doesn't act like Marinette is in the wrong. Remember, these are the same writers who think that Derision was a great episode that added depth to Marinette instead of destroying her character and making her look unhinged. Their judgement is clearly a little skewed.
While the writers love to make bad plot choices, they are generally using proper story telling language to make those choices, which is why I can tell you how characters' actions are intended to be read. The Rena Furtive and Nino example is a great one because it allows me to show that the writers do understand how to set things up. In fact, once they've decided that they're going to do a thing, they pretty much always set it up at a basic level. It's rarely spectacular and often frustrating, but it's never shocking.
In Rocketear, Alya promises Marinette that Nino will never learn about Rena Furtive. The episode then ends with her breaking that promise via the following exchange:
Alya: (sighs) I'm still Rena Rouge. (Nino gasps.) But now I'm in hiding and that's why Ladybug asked me not to tell anyone. Nino: But why are you telling me if no one's supposed to know? Is Ladybug cool with this? Alya: I can't hide it from you, because I love you, Nino, and we share everything.
Look at how this confession is presented. Look at what the dialogue focuses on. When Marinette confessed her identity to Alya, it was all about the confession and supporting Marinette. There was no discussion of this being a problem for Chat Noir or anything like that because - in the writers' eyes - that wasn't a problem for some reason. This is why Chat Noir almost instantly absolves Ladybug of blame once he finds out about the identity reveal (see: Hack-San.) The writers didn't want it to be an issue so it wasn't:
Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right
But when Alya confesses her identity to Nino, the conversation is not just about her confession. It's about her confession and how she's not supposed to do this. That's why Nino's response is not loving support. Instead, he asks if this is a good idea and if Ladybug knows.
These things are getting focused on because the writers are telling you that this is a bad thing. It's supposed to feel ominous. When I first watched Rocketear, I assumed that the season was going to end with Gabriel getting the fox off of Alya due to Nino because that was an obvious way to raise the stakes and they'd just heavily implied that Nino knowing would be a bad thing. I was, unfortunately, right. The only on screen consequence of Nino knowing is that he outs Alya to everyone in an incredibly forced series of events (see: Strikeback):
(Ryuko successfully prevents the Roue de Paris from hitting them, yet, it flies to the direction where Rena Furtive is. This causes Carapace to panic.) Carapace: Rena! (takes out his shield) Shell-ter! (Carapace's superpower successfully prevents the Ferris wheel from hitting Rena Furtive on top of the Tour Montparnasse. But the information of Rena Furtive's active status shocks the heroes, as well as Shadow Moth.) The heroes: Rena?! Shadow Moth: (from the top of the Eiffel Tower) She's still active?
Of course the Ferris Wheel goes straight for Alya's hiding spot and of course Nino screams her name before casting his power and of course the villain overhears it. It's all so forced and unnatural, which should make it glaringly obvious how much the writers wanted this to happen. This wasn't something they were kind of forced to do because it made sense for the narrative and they wanted to tell a good story. Instead, they wrote an awkward series of events because they really, really, really wanted Nino knowing to be a bad thing that outs Alya so that Marinette loses all of the miraculous even though none of this makes much sense.
How the hell did Gabriel hear Nino's shout from so far away? Is he able to overhear everything the heroes are saying? How does Nino even know that Alya is hiding there? And since when was a Ferris Wheel a threat to these guys? Your girlfriend is a magical girl and she's in her magical girl form, dude. You could drop a building on her and she'd be fine, a thing you have to know because this scene literally goes on to have Chat Noir go flying into a building, hitting it so hard the cement literally cracks, and no one really cares. I guess it's fine if Adrien is a punching bag, but Alya must be protected at all costs...
Anyway, while the above series of events was annoying, none of it was surprising. In fact, it would have all be perfectly predictable even if Alya outing herself was that treated as a more neutral event. Her choice leading to bad things falls perfectly in line with a truly bizarre running theme in the show: outing your identity to the person you love romantically is a bad thing that leads to bad consequences. That's why Chat Blanc and Ephemeral ended the world and why Nino knowing cost Ladybug the fox and why the character they call Joan of Arc has to give up her miraculous to be with her love and why the Kwami's have this absolutely asinine dialogue in Kwamis' Choice:
Plagg: Sugarcube! Having to force them to choose between love and their mission is just awful! Maybe Master Fu was wrong to choose them. Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength. Plagg: But the impossible part of that love is destroying them, and I know a thing or two about destruction. Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.
This is the voice of the author telling you that outing the identities is not and never will be a good choice for the love square. Never mind that Alya is allowed to know Marinette's identity or that Gabriel finding out is what actually ended the world in the alternate timelines or that Felix outted himself in public but is still wielding or that freaking Gabriel was allowed to know half of the temp heroes' identities while they were still actively wielding. For some reason, those things don't matter to the narrative, probably because romantic love wasn't involved. The "identity reveals are a bad thing" rule only seems to apply when romantic love is a key element to the point where it's a reoccurring theme in this supposed power of love show.
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mummyscarian ¡ 22 days ago
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Mumbo Stole Grian's Soul, and How it Connects to the Life Series
Alternatively, Mumbo Stole Grian's Soul, and How it Saved Everyone.
When Mumbo stole Grian's soul, he really stole it. Like he actually, genuinely stole it---the whole thing. All of it became his. Or, well, not his, exactly---it was still Grian's soul, but it was just in Mumbo's body, yeah?
Mumbo stole it to become human---it was a whole thing, really, he kept turning into a potato, and a golden carrot, and then a pig---oh, it was horrible! And he just needed to be human again. So, of course, the next logical decision was to steal his best friend's soul. Of course.
Grian wasn't exactly thrilled at first---well, he thought it was a joke at first. Mumbo insisted it wasn't, but, well, you can't actually steal someone's soul, can you? Grian went along with the joke, but he didn't feel any different, didn't feel empty or however one was supposed to feel when your soul was missing. Maybe Mumbo meant it metaphorically anyway. Regardless, the moon was big, and they were Watching.
Last Life. A new rendition of the death games the Watchers loved to put him through. And Mumbo was there. Why was Mumbo there? No matter---their minds were not their own, and the Boogeymen were coming. There was no time to think, only to survive. Watching Eyes, Listening Ears, there was never a real escape.
Mumbo died by Grian's own hands, and something felt weird about the world. He could feel it in the air---did everything become just a little more clear? When he looked up, why could he see them Watching? As the Finale neared, he could Remember. This was a death game. He was only meant to Watch---but he chose to Play.
When he died, he Watched. When Scott stood on that tree, and the Watchers started to reach---Grian defied them.
/kill Smajor1995.
He was not supposed to be able to defy Them. He always tried, of course, because who was he if not Grian, the prankster? But, regardless, he could not have defied them in their own world, where they were in control. To send a command like that, to destroy the sanctity of their game?
...Did he have that ability the whole time? The power to---No. He didn't. In 3rd Life, he was powerless. What made Last Life any different? The Watchers kept a grip on him as tight as the other Players, molding his mind into whatever they wanted, making him do horrible things to his friends.
Grian never knew what made it different. The moon was big.
Then it was Season Nine.
Mumbo---well, Last Life wasn't exactly pleasant. His mind hadn't been the greatest lately---not strictly because of Last Life, mind you. He was going through a bit of a slump. Everything had calmed down, after the moon and Last Life, and people were moving on, but he still felt uneasy, and lost, and burnt out. He... needed a break. A vacation.
So, with great hesitancy, and lots of doubt, he took one---went to see what else was out in the world. Hiked, biked, and saw all sorts of beautiful sights. And it... helped, truly, it did. It cleared his mind. He felt...
...human?
Without Mumbo, Grian felt like his soul was missing. Which was weird to say, he knew, because Mumbo had "stolen" his soul, but he just meant it metaphorically, alright? Grian without Mumbo---what was he?
He brought Grumbot back, but it still didn't feel the same. He missed his friend. And he knew it was good for Mumbo, but he still couldn't help but miss him the normal amounts (okay, maybe not the normal amounts, but that was beside the point, alright?).
He still couldn't help but wonder why Last Life ended the way it did, and why the Watchers were so silent. Grian tried to find out if he was somehow stronger, despite revoking his powers before---the Rift. Was it Grumbot, or was it him? He wasn't sure.
Then Double Life happened. And there was no Mumbo.
Things felt weird. Well, things felt normal, but slightly to the left, for a death game. Grian was distinctly aware it was a death game. They all knew it was, but there was always that fog that kept them from truly questioning, from truly fighting it. Complacent. Single-minded. Dependent. ...Violent. Aggressive. Unforgiving. Bloodthirsty.
He could still feel it, but he felt too aware of it. He could Watch the Watchers Watching them.
Double Life---it was short. Grian tried to push against the code keeping them all trapped, but, being bound to Scar---well, maybe Grian got too focused on trying to keep his soulbound (soul?) alive and, by proxy, himself as well.
Watching the Watchers Watch Pearl and Scott---They had more precautions this time, keeping Grian under Watch too. They were... wary. Cautious. Which meant they didn't know how Grian had slipped out from their grasp either.
Hope bloomed for the first time in a long time. A way to fight back, a way to save his friends from the death games---but how? Why? What happened, what was different---
Souls.
The Watchers controlled your soul. They changed its code to change you. Grian knew this very well. They had done this to his own soul many, many times. To his friends' souls.
Mumbo had stolen Grian's soul.
...He had literally stolen Grian's soul.
Grian could have laughed---he did laugh. That bastard. That loveable bastard! And he didn't even realize what he had done!
If Mumbo had Grian's soul, the Watchers couldn't bend him and break him. Grian... was free.
Well. Not entirely. Maybe Grian's soul was free, hidden where the Watchers couldn't find it (because who stole somebody's soul, seriously?). But his friends'...? They weren't. And as long as the Watchers had them... He wouldn't be free either. They used them like pawns to keep him trapped, all as punishment for daring to deny their divine gifts.
...But now he had a trick up his sleeve. A piece of the platform to stand on.
Going AFK during Limited Life was risky, but he trusted his Bad Boys' to protect him. Protect his body. (And Mumbo, unknowingly, or well, a little knowingly now, as of course Grian had told him when he returned from his vacation, protected his soul.) While his... not his mind, exactly, but another part of himself, confronted the Watchers.
This season was prime to be a bloodbath, but it would be the last of its kind, he swore to them. He demanded of them. It was a relentless argument on both sides---Grian wanted his friends to be safe and they threatened to harm them, while Grian withheld what they wanted most. Him.
The Watchers were a possessive bunch, and Grian---Xelqua---was theirs. They wanted him back, they wanted their Watcher back, he was one of Them, and they could not accept that he had dared to leave them. Could not fathom why he would.
There was a compromise---unwilling on both sides.
And so Secret Life was born.
Mumbo was there, and Grian was too scared to get too close to him, for fear that the Watchers would Look a little too close and See. He couldn't choose which players were dragged into these games, and the Watchers had their favorite victims (thankfully, Mumbo wasn't one of them, it seemed, even if he was the coal miner to the canary).
It was a fight for control, the Watchers unwilling to give it up, and Grian forcing himself onto the scene. Tasks, carefully crafted to be both frustrating and fun for His players (and sometimes just violent enough to satisfy their Hunger). Ups and downs, gives and takes. Tasks submitted by Watchers themselves---but the Boogeyman curse was all his own. See? He could make it entertaining, too. He understood what they wanted, and would give it to them, but only if they played by his rules.
Demise was a threat.
Interfere with their beloved "life" games, and They would take all of HermitCraft and force them into the games. Force them into worse. Take them, and control them, forever (just like Evo).
Real Life was a test.
It felt like loosing, to Grian. And, well, he did loose, actually. Out first, in his own game? Ridiculous. But... He felt like he lost everything he had worked so hard to create. Or, well, no, he felt like all that time spent running, and hiding, and creating a new him, trying to get himself away from the Watchers---it was for nothing. He... was submitting to them.
Of course, he knew it wasn't exactly that. He was still a Player, still him, and this was the only way to keep his friends safe. To convince the Watchers that he could run the games himself. To convince them that he was still a Watcher (it burned. It burned. He didn't want to be).
Running Real Life was difficult---he hadn't used his Watcher powers like this in... well, ever, really, to create a whole reality? He'd never gone that far. It was short lived, and, strangely, very nauseous.
But, somehow, it got the point through. He passed the test.
Wild Life was all his own. Weeks---months---spent carefully crafting a fun game for his friends, as though to apologize for everything he'd inadvertently subjected them to. He got to choose the players, and, to his surprise, they all wanted to come---even...
Even Mumbo.
Grian almost didn't want to invite him. But wouldn't that be suspicious, inviting them all but him? For them all to join but him? Mumbo would understand---but, in the end, he joined.
And he teamed with Grian. And it felt... so right. So perfect. Somehow, the death game didn't even feel like a death game. Him, Skizz, and Mumbo---the Sub-one Club! Or, well, the Floaters---or, actually, the Spanners! Yes, the Spanners! Grian almost felt at home. Being in control, the others knowing what He was and accepting him, creating a fun game for his friends. This was---well, it was just perfect! And he loved it! He loved it! It's what he had always wanted, back when 3rd Life was supposed to be his, and now, he had it! Everything he wanted!
And then
Mumbo
died
first.
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urfavleo777 ¡ 8 months ago
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joost klein x fem!oc smut
warnings: fingering, language.
The club near the beach seemed to be a favorite attraction for tourists.
After midnight, every corner was bustling with life, people were constantly smiling and exchanging long discussions at the tables. There was no room for lack of alcohol; every table was decorated with at least one bottle of wine or, in crazy cases, vodka. The music playing in the background pushed guests towards the dance floor, where they danced to the rhythm of fast songs.
“It's only our third day and we have already made this place our tradition.” My friend Lena exclaimed, accidentally spilling her glass of vodka. “Fuck! I knew everything was going too well!”
Amber and I burst into laughter as we watched our friend make sloppy movements to wash away the stinking liquid. Amber was really beautiful. She had large, almost black eyes. Quite strong makeup emphasized her delicate facial features and full lips.
We met her on the first day of our trip in the Netherlands. We bumped into each other while looking for a hotel in Noordwijk; or rather, we were saved by her. The taxi dropped me and Lena off at a remote location, both of our phones were dead, so we didn't know how to get to the hotel. The fact that it was only a few minutes after midnight didn't help at all. I remember thinking we would be stuck there forever.
Fortunately, we found Amber on a dark street where she was returning from work. She calmed us down and helped us find our way. We thanked her, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and the next day she took us here; to a lively beachside pub. We've been coming here every night since then.
“Come on, I'll help you wash it off. It's a waste of such a pretty dress.” She said calmly, standing up and leading Lena towards the door marked with a triangle symbol. Lena's crimson lips curved into a slight smile and she looked at me, her look instantly revealing her shock and nervousness. Oh, I knew exactly how Lena felt about Amber. She told me that the day after we met, they exchanged messages. I often caught her smiling at the phone, but out of respect for them, I chose to act as if I knew nothing.
“We'll be right back, Y/n. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice gentleman who will make your evening even more pleasant!” A smirk appeared on Lena's face. I rolled my eyes, hiding my amusement.
“Have fun and don’t get lost this time!” Amber called after me and giggled.
“Maybe you'd better not come back!” I stuck my tongue out at them in a mocking way.The girls gave me the middle finger before the door finally closed.
I sighed, taking a sip of vodka, washing it down with Pepsi. I felt the vibrations on my body, despite my fatigue I felt the call of the music. There was a smell of alcohol in the air and the smell of smoke released from time to time from under the DJ console. 
After one glass of alcohol in a row, I stopped feeling tired. A dance floor full of dancing people seemed damn tempting. The thumping bass and catchy beats effectively encouraged me to devote myself to the music. 
Seconds and minutes passed and the girls didn't come back. White light flashed from the ceiling from time to time, blinding for a second. I squinted a bit and checked the time on my phone. 01:01 AM.
Suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me. This may sound funny because, hey, I was just in a crowded club, it's normal for people to look at each other. But this was different, I felt frustrated when someone was staring at me and I didn't even know who.
I looked up from my phone and then I saw him.  A few tables in front of me, a man sat alone, sipping a drink. His blond hair was messy and disheveled, and he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Something moved strangely inside me when our eyes met. He gave me a brave smirk that it sent shivers down my spine.
When he realized that I had exposed him, he took off his glasses and put them on the table. However, he was too far away for me to get a good look at his facial features. I noticed that he was holding a cigarette in the fingers of his right hand. He took a drag of it, watching me in concentration. Is smoking even allowed in clubs?
Girl, you're in the Netherlands. I reminded myself.
“Y/n!” I heard someone shouting my name as I turned back and saw Amber and Lena running towards me. When they both took their seats, I had a perfect view of their rosy cheeks, uneven breathing and the abashed glances they were sending to each other. I suppressed a smile with a clear throat. “I'm sorry you had to wait so long. Lena got her dress so dirty that we had to take it all off to clean it.”
Why is everybody having sex except me?
“Oh, I can certainly imagine that. Actually, I’m tired of sitting in one place all the time. How about hitting the dance floor?”
“Finally! I thought you'd never ask!” Lena squealed, grabbing both of our hands.
About half a minute later we were in a different state of consciousness. The colorful spotlights seemed brighter and the music seemed louder. We were jumping to the rhythm of some electronic song, shouting its lyrics to each other. The song was in a foreign language and it was the first time I heard it, so Amber was probably the only one in our group who sang the lyrics correctly. My legs were burning with fire. It's been a long time since I spent such a long time on the dance floor dancing non-stop, but I enjoyed it. 
Now I was much closer to the table of the man who was staring at me with incredible passion.
I looked at him again, and when we made eye contact, he winked at me. The stranger, dressed in black jeans and a gray hoodie, stared at me with an unreadable expression, blonde hair falling across his forehead. I didn't even know his name, but everything about him was suddenly stirring something inside me. His blonde hair. High cheek bones. His mustache. The tattoos on his hands. His smile too. It was something I couldn't look away from. As if I'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t recall where.
When “Careless whisper” started playing and Amber and Lena started to get closer to each other, I decided to leave them alone.
I gave a thumbs up to give Lena courage. She smiled shyly and placed her hands on Amber's waist. I apologized to the people around me and left the dance floor, heading outside. I needed to get some fresh air, and more specifically, listen to the sound of the sea waves.
The night was cold and the wind bit at my bare arms, chills running through my body. I sat down on the sand and scolded myself for not bringing anything to cover my head and shoulders. 
I inhaled sharply and then listened to my heartbeat because I was alone. I didn't worry about getting my dress dirty. It was worth it for this view. 
I started to feel dizzy. I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I shouldn’t have drank too much.
"Enjoyed dancing to one of my songs, huh?" I suddenly heard a raspy voice from behind me. I turned around to experience the biggest shock of my life. It was the same man who had ogled me in the club. I looked at him with wide eyes. The moonlight fell on him, making his honey skin shine, while the wind blew, making his hair move gently. Even the moon wasn't as beautiful as him.
I scrunched my nose. I tried to recreate all the songs I danced to in my head. I didn't have to wait long until he finally sat down next to me.
“You're a musician?”
He let out a small chuckle and, oh my God, his laugh was so hot. 
“Yeah, something like that. But lately people have gotten used to calling me Europapa. I guess, I don't have a name anymore.” I laughed at his words. After his hint, I was finally able to figure out what song he was the author of.
“Ah, it's you. I knew you reminded me of someone. In my country, people already made you a global superstar.”  He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.
“Oh, really? Where are you from?”
I nodded. “Poland, straight from the capital. How about you, Joost?”
I used his name for the first time since I could finally remember it. Judging by the expression on his face, I had to amuse him with my pronunciation because he started laughing. The smile disappeared from my face.
“No, no, no. Mh, I live in Leeuwarden, but currently I’m on tour. Came here in order to relieve my stress a bit. And you can call me whatever you want.”
I almost offered him another way to relieve his stress. It took all my might to hold back my laughter.
“Oh, I feel flattered.”
For a moment I looked at his shapely lips. Of course, he noticed that.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.” I mumbled in a quiet voice, not knowing what to say.
“Can I get your name?” He asked finally.
“It's Y/n.” I said honestly, looking straight into his blue eyes. “Do you have anything to explain how you were devouring me with your eyes earlier?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, mentally scolding myself. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.
I looked up, immediately seeing a wide smile on Joost's face.
“Sorry. You're just so fucking pretty, I couldn't help myself.”
I bit my lip, suppressing a loud moan. I hated myself for how much he affected me.
“Can I?” He asked before placing his hand on my bare thigh. I nodded excitedly, waiting for him to move, which made him laugh a little.
“Mh- yes. Please.” I added with a pleading look on my face.
He dragged his hand slowly to my inner thigh, tossing my leg over his thigh, and made a low humming noise that vibrated from his chest.
Before I knew it, Joost's lips were smushed against mine in a passionate kiss. I gasped into his mouth as I melted against his lips, my hands resting comfortably on his muscled arms as his laid against my warm neck. Joost grasped the underside of my thighs and pulled me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his hips. 
“Joost..” I moaned breathily as his puffy lips attacked my neck, “I need you.”
“Of course you do, who wouldn't?” He teased, leading me towards his car. It was so dark that even if someone had been on that beach with us, wouldn’t have noticed us.
“Such a narcissist.”
Joost chuckled, “You know, if you shut that slutty mouth for once, you'd be so pretty.”
He opened the car door and put me in the back seat. After a while, he closed the door and sat down next to me.
“Oh, Y/n. I will give your body exactly what it deserves.” He said, a wide grin on his face as he leaned down to kiss me once more.
I bit my bottom lip and answered with one simple word.
“Yes.”
Joost wasted no time. He placed me on his lap and rolled up my tight dress. He moved his hands all over my body, making me go crazy.
“Your body is art.” He murmured.
His eyes pierced through mine, his gaze so intense that I almost melted on top of him. My hand shyly reached for his, playing around with his fingers and I moved my eyes down to look at what we were doing. “Is that what you want?” His voice was soft as if to not scare me away. “You want my fingers?” I looked in his eyes again and nodded my head quickly, feeling a tingling sensation on my stomach from the excitement. His other hand came up to caress my cheek and a little smirk could be seen on his lips. 
I moved on his lap when I was ready and one of his hands grabbed my hip while the other one ran up and down my thigh.
“Please.” I moaned, grasping his forearm tightly as I scrunched my face up in pleasure.
His fingertips brushed through my folds, coating them in my juices and I whined when I felt him rub slowly at my clit. “You're a soaking mess, baby.” His voice was so calm, a contrast to how shaky my breath was.
I gasped and he started applying more pressure to my clit. He eased one of his fingers inside me and a soft moan left my lips, my hips moving to ride his finger, his eyes intensely staring at me. “More.” I whined quietly.
“More?” He smirked and inserted another finger, feeling how my walls clenched around his digits, his hand moving to match the movements of my hips, thrusting his finger in and out of my pussy and I could ear the wet sounds it did.
“I'm so c-close, Joost. Just like that.” I moaned louder, locking his fingers between my legs. 
“Cum on my fingers, baby.”
“Oh God,” I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through my body.
When I was done, he slowly removed his fingers from my pussy, moving them to his mouth, sucking my juices from them, grunting at the taste of me which made me sigh heavily at the sight in front of me.
“Take off your pants, Joost.”
“Of course, baby.” He chuckled, politely following my order.
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moonlight-alexia ¡ 7 months ago
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pair of pests: tattoo ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb
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kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1.2k | based off of this ask
‘Kyra, Kyra!’ A fan in the stands shouted out to try and get Kyra’s attention since she was walking by quite close. Kyra looked towards where she heard her name being called out, lifting her hand up to wave while smiling at the fans. Until one of them, the one that had tried to get Kyra’s attention, looked quite familiar to her.
Kyra made her way over to the girl, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why she felt so familiar to Kyra. She didn’t try that hard to figure it out, putting it down to probably having seen the supporter at multiple matches, ‘Hi,’ Kyra smiled at the girl, greeting her and leaning slightly on the barrier.
‘Kyra, could you get Tiny please. I want to show her this,’ The girl lifted her arm and that's when it all clicked for her. 
You and Kyra were going around to all the Arsenal fans after one of your matches at home. Laughing, messing around and taking what time you had to spend it with all of the fans that came to support you. You were signing jerseys and taking photos until you had come across this one girl who’d asked you to sign her arm instead of her jersey.
‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ You laughed, not used to being asked to sign a part of someone’s body. It was the first time you could recall where someone wanted your signature on their body, ‘I’ll sign your jersey too if you want,’ 
‘I’m going to get your signature tattooed,’ The girl told you right before you went to sign her arm. Your face dropped in shock before a little smile formed. You didn’t know what to say. You were flattered that you could mean that much to someone you didn’t know personally enough that they wanted a tattoo dedicated to you, ‘Wow,’ was all you could speak, almost freezing in place for a minute, ‘Are you sure?’ Your voice wasn’t your usual confident self that you normally had while you were with fans.
‘Definitely, you’re my favourite player. I love watching you play, you’re amazing and one of my biggest inspirations,’ Your smile kept getting bigger, listening to how one of your supporters was talking to you. 
‘Keep talking like that and she’s gonna get a big head,’ Kyra laughed next to you, shaking your head slightly before placing a little kiss to your temple when she noticed the small pout directed at her, ‘No pressure babe,’
‘Yeah,’ You breathed out before grabbing the marker from the girl and steadying yourself before signing her arm, making sure you did your best version of your signature, writing your jersey number underneath. You gave the marker back and leant forward bringing the girl into a hug, ‘Thank you so much, you’re the first person who’s asked me for something like this. If you post it make sure to tag me, I want to see it when it’s done,’ You pulled back, looking at where you just signed. You were still in awe at the entire situation.
‘Yeah I’ll go get her for you,’ Kyra stared at the tattoo, she felt a sense of pride wash over her. Kyra would forever be proud of you, a little bit more when things like this happened. It’s just a reminder of how far you’ve come in your life and career. The way you can connect with others through the sport you chose to pursue when you were just a kid. 
Kyra loves your interactions with fans, the way she knows that you help people so much. She made her way over to where you were, you were never too far away from each other so it was quite easy to spot you. You were on your way back to the tunnel when you’d stopped for a group of fans that had gotten your attention and you being who you are, just couldn’t not stop for people.
‘I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to steal her away,’ Kyra made sure to wait for a break in you signing jersey’s and taking photos before she slid her arms around your waist pulling you into her a little. You turned your head and smiled towards Kyra, leaning into her touch. Fans loved seeing the two of you interact, being quite carefree whenever you were in places where you were the most comfortable.
‘What’s up Ky?’ You gave the supporters you were talking to one last smile and a little wave before following where Kyra was leading you towards.
‘Tattoo girl is here,’ Kyra beamed at you. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you knew exactly who she was talking about.
‘Ky, baby, look,’ You and Kyra were just laying on the couch, cuddled up watching a movie and scrolling through your phones. Your head laying on Kyra’s chest, her fingers playing with your hair. Kyra gave you all her attention when you’d looked up at her while holding your phone up so she could see, ‘That girl from the match that day, she actually got it tattooed,’ You couldn’t stop looking at the photo. 
You thought it was crazy that someone had actually gone through with something like that. Still in disbelief that it even happened, it’d all felt like a dream. Some days you still felt like that same little kid that used to just kick the ball in the backyard with her older sister, not feeling like you were grown up enough or good enough for something like that to happen. 
You were just a girl who liked to play football, who was good enough to make a career out of it. But you had to remember, and things like this reminded you, that you were a girl who was inspiring others, someone who was good enough for people to look up to and to be someone’s favourite. You don’t think you could ever get used to it.
‘Wow, that’s so cool,’ Kyra took your phone to have a closer look at it. She looked down at you, smiling softly, her eyes holding so much love for you, ‘I’m so proud of you,’ Kyra kissed your lips gently first, then placed little kisses all over your face, making you laugh a little.
‘Stop, I didn’t do anything,’ You felt your cheeks heat up, hiding your face in Kyra’s neck.
‘You do so much more than you’ll ever realise,’ 
‘I still can’t believe this,’ You smiled so wide when you’d gently reached out holding the girl's arm while you looked closely at the tattoo, ‘I love that I get to see it in person,’ You gently ran your finger over the lines of your signature on the girl's arm. The more you looked at it, the more it was beginning to feel real and sink in, ‘Thank you,’
‘No, thank you for everything you do. On and off the pitch you’re incredible,’ You were never one to accept compliments all that well, so you stumbled over a response. The only thing you thought that could ever say ‘thank you for choosing me to be your favourite’ enough was giving your jersey.
So you quickly pulled back and slipped off your jersey, borrowing a marker so you could sign it before giving it to the fan and one last hug before having to go. When Kyra could tell when the thought of giving away your jersey ran through your head, she had already slipped off her jacket and held it up ready to wrap you up in it before you’d even taken your jersey off.
You had no idea that this would lead into others asking for similar things from you, opening the realm of possibilities and to many more tattoos in your honour being done.
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narumi-gens ¡ 10 months ago
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dreams aventurine x f!reader
18+ minors/blank/ageless blogs dni, 2.1 spoilers, pregnancy/parenthood
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aventurine has never thought of himself as a man who dreams of the future, not beyond a certain point. but there's something about you that makes him doubt himself.
because when he looks at you, when he's near you, when he's inside you, he can't help himself. he thinks about what would happen if he didn't pull out and cum across your ass, your tits, or your stomach, painting your skin in white spurts like he usually does. he thinks about what would happen if he buried himself deep enough for you to feel him in your throat and spilled himself inside of you for once.
what if he didn't climb off of you as soon as he caught his breath. he thinks about what it would be like if he instead stayed there even as he softened, cradled between your thighs, while your arms wrapped around his trembling form to hold him close, your fingers gently running through his sweaty strands, your touch alone doing more to calm his mind than an orgasm ever could.
there are times when he allows himself to imagine beyond even that, but only in his weakest moments when he decides to spend the night, always under the pretense of the late hour, or the bad weather, or how comfortable the bed he bought you is. it's a pretense that you see through, but never challenge him on as you know that doing so would make him leave.
it's only once he's sure that you're deep asleep and he can turn his unguarded gaze to your features in the dark that he dares to let his mind wander beyond the bounds he normally sets. he imagines your stomach swelling as the months pass, of your hand grabbing his to press his palm to your belly to feel the fluttering of new life from within.
he imagines a small bundle pressed to your bare chest, skin-to-skin. you're crying, but so is the newly born infant that you hold so dear. so is he. sometimes, the sunlight shines through the windows of the hospital room, and other times the rain is deafening against the glass.
likewise, sometimes when the baby in your arms opens their eyes to take in the world for the first time, their color mirrors yours. but more often than not, it's his own pink and blue irises looking back at him, promising a life of good luck.
he imagines the feeling of a small palm pressed flat against his own much bigger one, as a young, tiny voice stumbles over the words he tries to guide them through.
he pictures the smile on your face, both adoring and soft, as you watch with tear-filled eyes as he teaches your child the blessing of their people.
as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry.
no matter how many years have passed since he was taken from sigonia in chains, he'll never forget his sister's final words to him. but when he looks at you, when he's near you, when he's inside you, they feel like more than just a memory.
it feels like she's speaking to him across the years, to him now, trying to guide him towards this single future with you instead of any of the infinite other futures he bets everything on.
maybe, if he chose to listen to her, there could be another avgin for gaiathra to bless. maybe, if he ever chose to give in to his weakness, to your warmth, to your softness, to your love, the avgin wouldn't have to live and die with him.
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