#rise extreme fight game

[racequeenparadise]

Moe Kawase, Sakura Rin, Sera, Natori Kurumi, Nana Nanase, Popo, Shiori Maki, Anna Masuda, Ayaka Matsuda and Kaede Murakami, R-1SE Force

[chaconnehoonie]

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

[astuteology]

🌡~My take on scorpio placements ~

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

☆ scorpio in the 7th house- usually get cheated on by their partners. Go through Toxic/ narcissistic partners at some point in their lives. 3rd party situations. Partners lying and deceiving you.

☆ scorpio mars- usually center of attention (attention grabber not seeker). Females with this placement tend to attract jealously from their so called friends or just other people in general. Men tends to sexualize them alot, May have spread rumors about them at some point.

Men with this placement, if underdeveloped, tends to be toxic af. The need to control everyone and everything around them is just awful. Fuck around a lot. Sleeping with different different people.

If developed, good achievers. Very strategic mindset. Usually get what they want in life. Bulletproof mindset. Very good at talking to people but still maintaining boundaries. Loyal.

☆scorpio suns- idk why and how, but when people get to know that someone is a scorpio, they get weirdly attracted to them??? Like staring at them, wanting to know them. Intimidated by them.

☆scorpio sun/moons- have a good sense of humour. They can make anyone laugh. And with this, they tend to attract alot of people who wants to be in a relationship with them.

☆scorpio venus- won't say a loyal lover HOWEVER when they love love, they are loyal 100%. Underdeveloped can lie about being in love.

☆retrograde scorpio venus- feels unlovable. Extreme trust issues. Highly sensitive. Very very very high on trust. You know how they say scorpios take tests? With this placement? Tests x 100. Don't give 2nd chances. It's very very difficult for them to be vulnerable. People have rejected them alot. May have been body shamed or criticised for looks. They feel like they don't deserve to be loved.

☆scorpio stellium in the natal chart- highly intuitive. Usually sees things beforehand. POWER. THE DARKNESS. THE EYES!!! Very beautiful people inside out. However they don't trust easily but if they do, for the love of lord, don't break it cuz you'll be coming back again and again to win them over.

☆scorpio moon- been through some serious shit. Been through hell and back with themselves. They understand people very well. However, they don't get the same understanding in return. They can see right through you so don't f with them. Hate mind games.

☆scorpio rising- very very intimidating. Females with this placement tends to attract jealousy in any form. People want to dominate you so bad. People telling them to tone it down. Basically people don't like your mindset, it triggers them cuz they can't have power over you. Hates 2 faced people. And the irony is, they usually deal with 2 faced people.

☆scorpio lilith- highly seductive. Very attractive. Sex appeal. Feelings run deep for them. Had people who wanted them only for sexual pleasures, wanted to touch them in any way. High vibration scorpio lilith is THE HEALER. also I've seen yall had some near death experiences?? Or witnessed someone dying in front of you.

☆ scorpio mercury- moves in silence. Very strategic and careful. Committed to anything they put their mind into. Always ready to be one on one while fighting. Their way of talking is very intense and mysterious which makes people wanna know how do you think like that. When they say something they really mean it. They take their time. Expects the worst. They figure things out so fast so don't even think of gaslighting them.

☆Scorpio in the 10th house- achievers. From a young age they had an insight of what they will become. Hold power in their work environment. If your a student, your classmates want to steal your notes, they feel envious that you make pretty good notes of whatever you're studying cuz yall go in depth and make pretty good observations of the topics. Authority figures.

☆scorpio in the 5th- gets extreme reactions from people. Ofcourse with any other placements, attracts jealousy. (Bruh I don't get it, what's with the scorpios dealing with alot of jealousy???? Like that's tiring) Grabs attention in parties, get togethers or any form of social gatherings. May have dealt with people wanting to take your partners. May have overly strict parents or very fucked up family issues.

That's it for now🫶🏻

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 2!!

In the first part I went over my character writing notes for Raph, so we're doing Leo next!!!

Leo Character Notes

Language Habits:

First the obvious, makes a lot of puns and one-liners. Think corny super hero movies

Does poke at New Jersey often in said one-liners

Mumbles/talks to himself out loud often

Starts a Lot of his sentences with, "Okay--"

Often will add on, "haha, you're hilarious", when he's trying to tease or antagonize someone

Similarly to Raph he will also verbalize his attacks/actions, "kick and punch"/"punch and kick", "land safely"/"and he sticks the landing"

Also will verbalize when he's trying to make a portal, "come on portal", "it's portal time", "portal power jitsu"

We all know "hachi machi"

Tendency to also make noises when fighting, "yah"/"wah!"/"hah!"

That little ohohoho laugh can signify as his battle cry/excitement, or his nervousness depending on context

Same case as the above with "hoh boy"

Will stutter on words to emphasize them, "l-l-l-l-lame!"

The first to jump onto an "I told you so" or "I was right"

Mixes Spanish into his sentences, most notably "bueno", "vamanos", "hermano(s)"

Messes up science terminology, "reprogramulating"

Says "indubitably" when he's up to something (which Raph recognizes)

Out of all the brothers, he does poke fun the most

Refers to himself as "Leon"

Refers to others (mostly strangers/acquaintances) as "bub"/"bud", or "chief"

Personality:

Dramatic, Leo will always play things up 110%. Sometimes this is to cover up his insecurities, to cheer up his brothers, or to annoy said brothers. Also plays into his extreme responses to stressful situations

The fun brother, aka mikey's advocate. He takes his role seriously as the face man, who keeps things fun and cool for his brothers. It's an easy role, and he gets to make his family laugh or roll their eyes. He's. Sillay

Perceptive, this is why he knows exactly what buttons to push, but he's not a great communicator when it comes to the bigger picture. This also plays into his manipulativeness that he uses to put chaos into his family (i.e. lair games), puppet villains (i.e. Big Mama) into his motives, and change the battlefield

A closet nerd, implied to remember more jupiter jim lore than the rest of his brothers and has a ready to go impression of the reptiles of planet reptilica

Competitive to a fault, he tends to get lost in the competition when it comes to his brothers. Part of his dramatism is showing off, and he's weak to being called or associated with the term "champion". Competition is a way he gauges his self worth

Has a strong desire for the inherent admiration and trust of his peers, more than outright praise (both are wanted) unlike Donnie. This damages his communication skills because he just expects his brothers to trust him while he puts on a persona of nonchalance as protection from failure

Defensive, of himself through being snippy or sarcastic, but also defensive of his brothers' own well-being. He may be the one to poke the most fun, but he's also the one to jump to his siblings' defense out of any of the brothers. Sort of an "only I can do so and so to blank" mindset

Martyr complex, prioritizes the safety of his family over his own safety

Gets attached to people he considers family Quickly, those he doesn't consider a part of his family he has little sympathy for but once that connection is there he's already ready to use his body as a shield

Freeze response, tends to freeze up in response to danger or stress. Often shown to curl into a ball or stand silently (as opposed to his constant chatter)

Miscellaneous:

The third to unlock his mystic powers

Nicknames: "baby blue" by splinter, "nardo" by donnie

Sweats an ungodly amount

Uses spit to annoy his brothers/enemies (licking an item to claim it as his, wet willies)

Can beat box

Always chooses left in mazes or when lost

Next up will be Donnie :>

[maliro-t]

The highlight of Veilguard for me is the relationship between Solas and Rook- and I don't know how to write about this on the internet without being acutely aware of other peoples' criticisms (such as there not being enough of it)- so I'll just say up top that I'm not actually intending this as a refutation of any of those. I just want to talk about my experience with the game and why I like it so much, which will probably make obvious where I disagree with some reoccurring critiques I've seen. *

The thing about Solas in this game is that he plays the role of the trickster perfectly. As much as Fen'Harel is a myth or a persona, and the stories we know of him invented or twisted, his role in Veilguard feels like it could slot in so, so easily with the myths, and in many ways directly parallels them. He is sinister and noble, monstrous and sympathetic, ruthless and compassionate, all at once. He spends the game trapped and humbled but can be almost gleefully condescending at times. He conflates outsmarting an enemy with being right, even as he plays the long-suffering martyr, tortured by countless mistakes. He falls easily into the role of advisor but is quick to note your foolishness. To sneer and declare the problem yours and yet still impose upon you an appraisal of your conduct.

But more than any of that, for most of the game, he's...passive. Dormant. He seems to make no moves, other than as a glorified consultant, despite starting as the main threat.

In Blood of Arlathan, when he finally rears his head again as major a player on the board, it's with a gallant offer of help. As an ally. He is exactly what you need, right when you need it, and you don't even have to ask him to be. And- because you don't have constant access to him, you maybe haven't even considered him an option!

He feels extremely intentionally sparing to me before this in service of a) making you think you're the one with power over him and b) causing you to forget he might contribute at all, so that when he finally does, it seems wholly benevolent. It comes in a moment where your goals are exactly aligned, and indisputably noble.

It's a waiting game. A classic of his, harkening back to stories we've heard time and again about Fen'harel and traps.

As Felassan tells it in the Masked Empire:

Fen'Harel was captured by the hunting goddess, Andruil. He had angered her by hunting the halla without her blessing, and she tied him to a tree and declared that he would have to serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back. But as she made camp that night, the dark god Anaris found them, and Anaris swore that he would kill Fen'Harel for crimes against the Forgotten Ones. Andruil and Anaris decided that they would duel for the right to claim Fen'Harel. He called out to Anaris during the fight and told him of a flaw in Andruil's armor just above the hip, and Anaris stabbed Andruil in the side, and she fell. Then Fen'Harel told Anaris that he owed the Dread Wolf for the victory and ought to get his freedom. Anaris was so affronted by Fen'Harel's audacity that he turned and shouted insults at the prisoner, and so he did not see Andruil, injured but alive, rise behind him and attack with her great bow. Anaris fell with a golden arrow in his back, badly injured, and while both gods slumbered to heal their wounds, Fen'Harel chewed through his ropes and escaped.

He goads his enemies into fighting each other for his benefit. Anaris, who had hunted him, succeeds with Fen'Harel's advice, exploiting a weakness he could only see with his aid. In turn, Anaris himself is left exposed. The victory goes to Fen'Harel, who has now dispatched two enemies at once and cleverly won his freedom.

He who was both Creator and Forgotten One. Who could walk amongst both as kin, and who in the end turned his back on them all.

Another tale:

The god Fen'Harel was asked by a village to kill a great beast. He came to the beast at dawn, and saw its strength, and knew it would slay him if he fought it. So instead, he shot an arrow up into the sky. The villagers asked Fen'Harel how he would save them, and he said to them, 'When did I say that I would save you?' And he left, and the great beast came into the village that night and killed the warriors, and the women, and the elders. It came to the children and opened its great maw, but then the arrow that Fen'Harel had loosed fell from the sky into the great beast's mouth, and killed it. The children of the village wept for their parents and elders, but still they made an offering to Fen'Harel of thanks, for he had done what the villagers had asked. He had killed the beast, with his cunning, and a slow arrow that the beast never noticed.

Felassan is everywhere in the Crossroads, in memories, in regrets, in notes that speak to a time you can barely fathom and traces of a friendship that is never once brought up by Solas directly (to my knowledge at least). I think Felassan serves a lot of purposes; he's a window into history, into Solas' mind and ideals, someone who challenges moments of ruthlessness but is loyal, an advisor who keeps Solas grounded even as he pushes him to become something larger than he is, a lingering notion of a loss that you can never really see the full scale of, and so on. And I think, too, that he's written carefully to be a meaningful presence from the rebellion without explicitly spoiling what eventually happens to him, which I wouldn't be surprised if was a legit consideration made for people who might go back and read the Masked Empire after dav lol- in the same way that Trespasser only really spoils the book if you already know what happens.

But for me, every note signed with his name is almost a tongue-in-cheek warning about what's to come. Felassan. A slow arrow, fired apparently mockingly into the sky, only to strike true when it's least expected. A solution executed with neither kindness nor explanation, serving first and foremost the interests of the one who fired it. Felassan's presence in the game ever so slightly encodes a reminder of who you're actually dealing with and what his core tenants are, whether as an ally or an adversary. You only know if you know, but it doesn't seem an accident to me that this reoccurring name of a general who shaped himself in honor of the Dread Wolf's unorthodox cleverness is so key to these traces of Fen'Harel's past, despite, again, never directly being discussed.

Anyways, to Rook. First, I gotta give a shoutout to Bryony Corrigan, whose voice I used for mine- she honestly made the game for me, especially in moments where I felt unsure of it. I love Rook, I love how they're written, and I love how they're performed. While a complete blank slate protagonist can be really fun, I find putting myself as a player in conversation with limitations given by the game really fun and interesting, and often surprising! And I do feel there's still plenty of flexibility.

My perspective on the relationship between Rook and Solas in Veilguard is specific to how I played of course, and I haven't seen other versions of their dynamic at this point to compare so I can't speak to them. But my experience was as such:

I didn't come into the game wanting to intentionally antagonize him. If he rose at me, I rose at him- and those moments of tension were really, really fun. But I tried to accept what he gave me with a fairly open mind. Skepticism, sure, but also the knowledge that ultimately, we both wanted Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain gone, and he knew them better than I did.

It was really gratifying, then, to see our rocky partnership evolve over time into what seemed like a genuine respect. But it didn't really feel straightforward to me either. For example, the conversation before Weisshaupt held a lot of weight for me: listening to him tell that chilling tale about undermining an enemy with persistent laughter and finding that 'Do whatever it takes to remove those who oppose you' was something we came out aligned on was.... There was an element of foreboding to that. Like, I had found myself actively trying to impress him here! And feeling good when it seemed like I had, but uneasy about how I had done it, even when I agreed with what I'd said.

And of course, after that comes Arlathan. Solas' big hero moment. This is the point in the game where our alliance finally felt comfortable to me. The conversation in the fade after was the first time that it really seemed like we were on even ground. And the game- not just Solas- told me here outright that I had earned his respect! After that, I didn't consider betrayal a possibility for a moment. Honestly, I barely even considered him an antagonist at all, because he had become a partner instead! I was expecting something clever down the line, but I wasn't worried about it hurting me. Our disagreements had been set aside, and the goal of his that I had initially opposed had been so thoroughly usurped I had forgotten that he was even pursuing it. And yes, that's perhaps naivety on my part, but I was so distracted by that not at all being the main plot that I forgot that it actually still was. Which is the whole point, right? He waits until your head is turned the other way to strike.

All this to say, my reaction when you kill Ghilan'nain and Solas uses the instability of the Veil to force you into his prison went beyond shock and confusion. It wasn't until well into his villain monologue that I was able to accept that he had betrayed me at all- having been thus far trying desperately to convince myself that the sequence I was seeing was Elgar'nan playing mind games in retaliation, and not actually Solas.

That prison moment is his Slow Arrow. You are Anaris to Elgar'nan's Andruil, the dagger the chink in her armor, and Ghilan'nain's death the golden arrow striking you in the back.

The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap.

And I should say, I was coming at this all from the meta perspective of someone who loves Solas and empathizes with him and has never seen him as irredeemable or evil- and I, the player, who believed that all game and is ultimately satisfied with the resolution I got- felt hoodwinked as fuck in this moment lmao!!

There's a line in the prison that Varric has about it being easier for Solas to play the villain when he knows he's causing harm- so I do think he plays up his sinisterness here on purpose. But it's such a slap in the face coming straight off of "You have earned the respect of the Dread Wolf." A true and profound betrayal, at least for me.

And it doesn't stop there! His trickster maneuvers and half-truths aren't done until the credits roll. I love that when you meet again, he is nothing but apologies. He makes every concession- that Varric was a good man, that every victory in this fight has been yours, that he needs you and not the other way around, that he was wrong and made mistakes and betrayed people who never deserved it. And of course, we know from experience at this point that this won't stop him from doing it again anyways. But he never holds back from placing the blame on himself. Agreeing with you. Telling you you're right, and that Elgar'nan must be stopped. He only ever says things that are true. Things that are aligned with your point of view.

"[The veil] will never come down by my hand." Well, yes. Because it will fall on its own when Elgar'nan is dead. You won't hardly have to do anything at that point, Solas, will you?

It doesn't matter if Rook isn't falling for it, because if they don't accept his partnership, they lose! That's it! It's the same as it was at the start, but with the added sting of knowing it probably won't work out in your favor this time.

I remember before launch John Epler saying that Solas sees himself in Rook, which really echoes throughout the whole game for me. There are some ways you could say Solas seems opposite to Rook- and of course this can wax and wane depending on roleplaying choices, but the central conceit of Rook as Varric's recruit is that they are a specialist in being willing to act. And on the surface at least, that's kind of counter to Solas' Slow Arrow, right? Blunt force versus delayed gratification. But not entirely! Because every backstory we have for Rook revolves around a kind of heroism that is unorthodox enough to have left you ultimately punished for it. Like yeah, yeah, you saved some lives.... The optics were kinda bad though, so maybe you could go on a sabbatical for a while?

Rook is, from the start, an unconventional and unsung hero, admonished by some for ruffling feathers that they shouldn't have in pursuit of a noble goal. Not unlike Fen'Harel.

I find, too, that there's kind of a nesting doll of parallels around Rook and Solas as foils that the whole story hinges on:

We see Solas, his regrets plastered on every wall, each of them tied to Mythal. At every turn he seems to warn her that this is not the right path, but he follows her down it anyways, until he is left with nothing but an overwhelming need to fix what they have broken.

We see Felassan, who still wears Mythal's vallaslin on his face, challenging Solas' judgement and methods, but still standing by him through the rebellion, after the Veil, for however many thousands of years they slept. Ultimately, in the Masked Empire, the thing that makes him falter is his admiration for someone else's pursuit of freedom. His admiration for Briala.

"I suspect you'll hate this, but she reminds me of-"

Solas is Rook. Solas is Briala. Upstarts, flawed defenders, people who are made into leaders because of their willingness to fight for something. Who see injustice and cannot rest.

Solas is Felassan, the devoted general. One who pushes against his orders but cannot deny them. Someone who loves the cause, but more than that is dedicated to the person who champions it. A voice of reason who, in the end, turns away.

Solas is Mythal, a pragmatic leader, responsible for uncountable deaths. Someone who has relied on partners and power structures that have led her down a dark path, partners whose mistakes in their pursuit of power have become her own. Partners who in the end betray her.

Solas is trapped in his regrets because they are not all his. He struggles with having been failed and with how he has failed others, and in his mind the two become conflated. He carries these contradictory roles on his back- perpetrator and victim, betrayer and betrayed- and cannot see how to overcome them. He is ultimately freed by Mythal's absolution because the foremost factor in his crusade is not belief but guilt.

The ends have to justify the means, because there is no other way he can live with himself. And at every step, he is trying to redeem Mythal as much as he is trying to redeem himself.

He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He wanted to give wisdom, not orders. I will always follow where you go.

He left a scar when he burned her off his face.

It was all for her. It was always for her.

Solas' duplicity is unending, but so is his devotion. And there is such an earnestness to a Rook, always betrayed, that sees and empathizes with that and uses it to free him.

* I will say that during the game I was definitely wishing you could show your hand to him a little more and press him about his memories prior to the endgame (and separate from this I have quibbles with the impact of some of those memory reveals- like wrt the delivery just not feeling as weighty as I would like. The payoff is absolutely still there in the end, it just felt to me like they were too nonchalantly getting a ton of info out that had to be established moving forward, despite these being like earthshattering reveals that people have Correctly (!!!!) theorized about for up to 15 years). That being said, in retrospect it would have lessened the impact of the finale to have pressed Solas about, for example, his relationship to Mythal prior to absolutely pulling the rug out from under him with it at the 11th hour. And additionally, it's a structural nightmare because you can uncover the memories at almost any point in the story, and you don't have constant access to Solas to chat with him about them. Which you shouldn't imo, in service to the story being told!! But it's also true that early on I found scenes with Solas super gripping, and scenes with my team often...not. And that was initially disheartening, but developed positively over time on all fronts once the game didn't have to worry about setting things up. So, I did wish for more here at first, but I've revised my opinion now that I can see the whole arc.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part six - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Warnings - 3.6k words of : Toxic yandere men, sub drop, crime, violence, injury, emotionally abusive behaviour, possessive behaviour, lying and manipulation, monopolising, unhealthy relationships, aftercare ish, love bombing?, Namjoon's dark side is coming out but internally (because we can read his mind but MC can't)

It’s a sting or an ache that rouses you awake, coming from your bruised wrist. You let out a soft gasp of pain, lifting your head to see Yoongi carefully applying cream to the dents the ropes had burned into your perfect skin. 

“Hoseok and his stupid games,” he mutters, full focus on making sure he’s soothing the marks of their punishment, like if the evidence of them went away so would the sadness they inflicted on you as well. It was a stupid naive thought, Yoongi knew it, but your presence in his life filled him with that silly feeling of hope. 

He gently rests your wrist on the bed, searching for the next limb before he notices your eyes on him. They’re blank he notices, void of anything, fuck, they really did a number on you. He couldn’t swallow down the lump of regret lodged in his throat, no he would suffocate on it until you recovered. 

You feel the bed dip beside your head, but it doesn’t pull your gaze away from Yoongi as he pulls your other wrist cautiously away from where you held it against your chest. You feel fingers in your hair, the urge to nuzzle against them almost overwhelming but the memories of their harsh words keeps you still.

“Heaven,” Taehyung's deep voice murmurs loud enough for you to hear as he plays with the strands. “Does it hurt?”

At his words you feel something pierce your middle, a pain that lay dormant until it was called out. A part of him means the sting of Yoongi’s ministriations, another part of him means the hole they carved out of your chest. At first it might seem sadistic, but he needed you to feel it, if you felt empty it would be harder to coax you back, the hurt meant you were still alive, still with them, and not an empty shell they were terrified they pushed you to be. 

He would take your anger, your betrayal, your sadness over the void you presented to them now. Yoongi moves you carefully from your fetal position on the bed, so you’re lying on your back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s as he peers down at you. The position has an itch of anxiety building under your skin, it's too familiar to your punishment even if you aren’t as physically as exposed, but the burn in your extremities from those ropes lulled your brain into believing it was about to happen again. 

You see the frown in his brows as he watches your chest lift and fall too deeply, the look in your eyes like a caged animal looking for a chance to run. It’s when Yoongi takes hold of your ankle you pull away with a small whimper. Both men look at each other for a moment as you swallow down the rising panic. 

“Little love,” Yoongi says, being as reassuring as he can, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

You inhale like your soul slammed its way back to your body, the corners of your eyes watering. 

“Liar,” you barely manage to whisper, but it's loud enough that it cuts him. He deserved that. The anxiety in your limbs creeps into your chest, seizing your lungs until you’re unable to take a breath. 

The hand in your hair moves to cup your face, his body lying beside you, your hand is on his chest, your insides fighting with the urge to push him away or clutch his shirt and pull him closer.

“Y/n you need to breathe,” Tae instructs against your hair soothingly, taking your hand on his chest in his. The other palm turns your head so you face him, his thumb stroking circles on your cheek. “Breathe with me.”

You want to tell him you can’t, but you try to follow his example, earning yourself a small smile on his face, the hum of danger dampening. You lose yourself to Tae as you both lie together, feeling yourself calm before sleep takes you again. The last thing you feel is soft lips on your temple, but you’re too exhausted to register it.

—

“How is she doing?” Jin asks Yoongi as he washes his hands, breaking his despondent stare at nothing. 

He just nods in reply, avoiding eye contact. There were only a few times that Yoongi ever felt himself be moved to tears, but the state you were in now shoved him on the brink of a breakdown. And the worst part of it all was that they were responsible. Aftercare, especially after one of Hoseok’s sessions, was vital and they all knew it and yet because they were caught up in their own emotions they let you drop. 

“That bad huh,” Jin laughs humorlessly under his breath, leaning against the door frame as he contemplates his own shortcomings. “Namjoon wasn’t lying when he told her we were the scum of the earth.”

He hangs his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hold all the answers or at least grant him the ability to rewind time back to when you first woke up.

“We weren’t supposed to be scum to her,” Yoongi muttered, turning off the water that scalded his hands red, the pain was good, it felt like he was paying for his mistakes, although it was a small compensation to what he would have to pay. “The rest of the world doesn’t matter, to Y/n we were supposed to be worthy of her.”

“But we’re not,” Jin replies quietly. 

“We didn’t have to prove it,” he bites back, feeling resentment towards Namjoon for bringing it up at all. He understood the need to be accepted, raging red flags and all, but to you they were supposed to be better, you were supposed to be the exception.

“What if she never forgives us,” he whispers his fears to the oldest of them, that tight invisible grip around his throat still present. 

Jin can’t even bring himself to placate him, he can’t, he has the same fears. 

—

Jimin’s tears crumbled their already broken hearts, but when Jungkook joined in it made them feel a despair they hadn’t felt since the day you left them. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, unsure of who he was trying to convince when a small voice in the back of his head was calling him a liar. If he could he would shoot the voice dead. “Our relationship isn’t that weak.”

Hoseok watches their leader massage his eyes as though a headache was starting. 

“You need to go see her,” Yoongi says to Namjoon, arms folded, voice empty of emotion. Their fearless head of the crime syndicate had yet to visit you since the fight in the bathroom, Yoongi knew he would eat his words once he did.

“How are we going to fix this?” Hosek groans, patting Jimin’s head as he cried. The maknae was attached to Jimin’s back, both of them on the floor as they sobbed. 

Taehyung had refused to leave your side, the others went in and out but Tae was afraid if he left you you would find a way to escape again, and he couldn’t live through that a second time.  

“We broke her by exposing her,” Namjoon mumbles mostly to himself, thinking out loud, biting the skin of his thumb uncharacteristically nervous. “Made her feel like it was something bad…” made her pull away from us because we didn’t make her feel safe and let her drop. “Need to rebuild trust in the same way,” need to make her feel loved, “reassure her,” hold her but keep her vulnerable so she doesn’t build back up with walls against us. 

His brain works fast, now that the Suho problem was dealt with, he could focus on you until the repercussions of the Captain came. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there would be some sort of retaliation, the Captain didn’t seem the sort to let things go. 

“No more games,” Yoongi breaks his train of thoughts, eyes boring into him before looking at Hoseok too. “No more punishments, she never deserved any of them we were just sadistic fucks looking for an outlet for our own insecurity.”

Namjoon’s fist clenches, unhappy with the tone his usually stoic friend takes, even if his words held some truth. 

“A whole world at our disposal to kick down and we take it out on our little love,” Yoongi scoffs, chuckling in disgust with himself and the others. “We really are scum of the Earth.”

—

The Captain doesn’t find the ceiling all that interesting, but it’s all he can stare at alone in the hospital wing. He’s not alone in the sense of physically, the hospital staff mill around working on the ward, he’s merely separated by curtains from the other patients, but the noise around him felt like a hum, a buzz in the background. The only visitor he had was the Chief of police telling him to stand down about the syndicate task force and then offering (ordering) him half a years paid leave. 

“Take the time off,” he had said. “Recover,” he patted Suho’s shoulder before muttering, “it’ll do you some good.”

But the captain could see the truth in the Chief’s eyes, a hidden variable that was making him speak through the shadows. Kim Namjoon got to the police, he had his strings attached to every officer like they were his puppets. He only needed the top brass, they would create order and command for him. He wondered what he had on them all, how deep the corruption ran.

It seemed he was cut at the knees in more ways than one, the leader of the crime syndicate really drove that message home. He laughs at himself humourlessly despite the lack of anything funny in sight. One of the nurses giving him a judgmental side eye, wondering to herself whether they gave him too much morphine. 

Suho could still feel the pain tearing through his knee and his hand, albeit dulled by the drugs in his system. The bullet had been lodged into his bone, it required surgery to be pulled out, surgery that was paid for by an anonymous benefactor. The thought of who he suspected as that person made him want to beg to put the bullet back. 

Powerless wasn’t a feeling he was all that common with, even in his darkest days on the force he always felt hope, knew he would see the Sun rise another day. But Kim Namjoon had a way of drowning the Sun, and all her rays of hope. He could only pray that by some miracle, he could pull you out of the waters before your light washed out. 

—

The scene when you open your eyes is eerily similar to the one before your world flipped upside down, a part of you wanted to believe the hands of time had turned back or at least you woke up in an alternative universe where the fight never happened, but the memories burned through your mind too clearly for anything else to be true. All seven of your walking talking red flags were posted around you in the room, eyes on you albeit much softer than that day, yet for some reason it puts you on edge. 

“Heaven,” Jimin sits on his knees on the bed peering down at you, you notice the telling red rims around his eyes and his nose, was he crying? Why? He tries to cover it with a smile, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons but he couldn’t hide the evidence from you, you knew him too well.

He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips before he mumbles desperately against your skin, his voice breaking, “forgive us.”

Tentatively, as if afraid you were going to break or run away, two arms wrap around your middle, the maknae lying beside you burying his head into you but you can hear the tell tale sniffles. It was rare any of them ever cried, you really must look like a state.

Your head throbs from the continuous cycles of sleep you were putting yourself through, sleep was safe and you were too exhausted to live, let alone deal with the repercussions of your relationship. 

“Jungkook, you’re smothering our dove,” Hoseok sighs, arms folded as he keeps his distance. He wouldn’t say it aloud but since he and Namjoon were the directors of your punishment and subsequently the push into subdrop he was afraid of approaching you.

It wasn’t just your rejection that would break his heart, but if his presence caused a reaction of trauma, more than what you were presenting now, it would crumble him. It took everything in his will power not to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive them, and the man had never begged anyone for anything before. 

Even Namjon kept himself an arm length away, sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed, watching you as the others interacted. Soekjin had stood beside you, his fingers massaging your forehead as if he could sense the pain, but your eyes find Namjoon. 

“Did you hurt him?” It was the first time you had seen him and the first words out of your mouth were about that cockroach. He can feel his anger begin to simmer dangerously, his jaw clenches before he releases a self deprecating laugh under his breath. This was cruel even for you, was it a test? Why didn’t you ask him whether he killed him, that he could answer truthfully, the details were a little more complicated. 

“We didn’t kill him,” Hoseok says, his mind flashing back to standing on the roof of the opposite building holding the sniper as it took out the Captain’s leg.

“That’s not what I asked,” you whisper, eyes starting to water again. 

Namjoon glances at Yoongi’s warning stare, the thoughts written clearly on his stone face, enough of proving to you how evil they truly were, the truth didn’t matter, only you did. But yet there was something inside of him urging him to tell you, a sadistic part of him that wanted to break the already cracked dusty rose tinted glasses. Was it so bad of him to want you to love the darkest parts of him? Couldn’t you hear his soul cry out for you to love him despite how bloodstained it was?

“No we didn’t hurt him Love,” he sighs, hanging his head so he wouldn’t have to meet your gaze, his fist clenching the material of his trousers. The lie tasted like coal in his mouth, but he would swallow it down even if it upset his stomach. 

You let out a sound of relief, the weight on your shoulders suddenly disappeared and you could breathe freely again. They actually saw you smile, and the guilt only cemented. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, the feeling of love you were holding back against them now allowed to roam back into your body. There was hope, there was a chance to heal your relationship; they listened to you despite their murderous intent, you were relieved. You were so worried they would kill him anyway despite your plea not to, but this was proof they were willing to work on themselves with you, that you meant something to them more than being their toy.

You close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. Jimin wipes away your tears, you hadn’t even realised had slipped from the corner of your eyes. 

“Our baby’s so caring,” Jin comments, trying to keep the bite out of his voice and eyes. Your gaze falls on him and he smiles, it’s the most fake thing he’s ever done in front of you but you’d believe it. Seokjin was a mastermind at manipulation, to the point he could paint whatever he wanted on his face regardless of his emotions. Namjoon had debriefed them before you woke up, the objective was to do what they did best, monopolise you back under their spell.

It throws you, the gentle expression on his face, maybe you did wake up in an alternate reality. Jungkook distracts you, pulling you closer against him, his lips on your shoulder, making his way up your neck and cheek slowly. You turn to face him, eyes in a daze, that sweet bunny smile greeting you shyly but your attention is pulled away by another. 

The back of Taehyung’s fingers trace your cheek gently, another smile greeting you when you turn to him on the other side of you, finding him kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He takes notice of your glazed stare, the slow confusion on your face.

“Aren’t you the cutest little love to ever exist,” he coos quietly.

“Our only little love,” Yoongi corrects him.

“Our slice of heaven,” Jimin pipes in.

“The only heaven we’ll ever see,” Namjoon’s deep voice gruffs.

That overwhelming feeling only grew, but it didn’t feel unwanted, you felt cushioned, like you were being lifted or floating on a cloud. Gentle touches, soft words, soothing your soul quiet, letting it rest. But you were unaware a part of you was being buried.

“Our perfect Angel,” Namjoon whispered and for some reason it felt like the final nail in the coffin making you snap back to your senses.

“No,” you sit up to face him, breaking away all the physical touch they had on you. The safe space they had lulled you into with all your defences bare had shattered. “You can’t expect me to accept you for all your flaws if you won’t do the same for me.”

There’s a fight in your eyes that comes alive as you stare him down, but he keeps quiet letting you fill the silence.

“I am not perfect, YOU need to stop pretending I am,” you throw his words back at him, he fucked you with those words and made you accept their cruelty, he would have to offer you the same respite. “I am done with trying to live up to this impossible image you have of me, because every time I break the illusion I can see the disappointment in your faces and it kills me every time.”

“Little love, you are perfect,” Jin sighs, moving to sit in front of you to break the staring match between you and Joon. “All those things you think are flaws are perfect Love, they’re a part of you, of course they’re perfect.”

His thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, trying to will away the fire when it threatened to burn everything they had spent rebuilding in this room with your recovery.

“If we made you feel anything other than perfect dove that’s our fault,” Hoseok admits, “but you already know how bad we are, it’s always our fault, don’t let us fool you otherwise.”

“You don’t get it,” you frown, looking down at your lap. “When you love me like that, it's a burden.”

“Love,” Yoongi calls for you, desperation in his voice, hating that you felt that way at all. “That’s not our intention.”

“Baby,” Jungkook sits up beside you, and you start to feel confined, their bodies like iron bars of a jail, keeping you with them for a life sentence you were beginning to think you deserved. “We love you, we made a mistake, we know that, but our love for you isn’t bad.”

“It’s the one redeemable thing about us Heaven,” Taehyung adds, looking up at you even with your head hanging low, trying to meet your eyes. 

You feel your eyes water, you just ached, wanting to be drowned in their love but protected from their consequences. Last time you took the coward's way out, you ran away, this time you needed to create distance, but still work on the problem without bias, without their love infecting you until you could heal them and yourself.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” you confess, holding back a sob. Your mind starting to win the war it raged against your heart and all it wanted.

Their solemn expressions snap to you, the panic in their eyes piercing you.

“What do you mean, little love?” Jimin says warningly, you sounded like you were wanting to end your relationship but you surely knew better than anyone that it was impossible. They wouldn’t let you go if you tried.

“I think we need to go on a break,” you state, your voice strained from the heavy feeling of wanting to cry in your throat. 

“Absolutely not,” Hoseok shakes his head, nostrils flaring at the suggestion.

“I’m not asking,” you say firmly.

“You don’t get to make that decision little love,” Namjoon’s lips twitch as he stops himself from growling, how dare you even think it. “You’re ours.”

You both stare each other down, neither willing to compromise. 

“I’m mine,” you felt in control again, you hadn’t felt this way for so long, like your soul belonged to you, you weren’t just floating in their desires, you were your own person. 

“We won’t let you leave,” Namjoon retorted, not denying your statement.

“I didn’t say I wanted to leave,” you shake your head, looking at each of them before your gaze returns to the leader of the syndicate, a challenge present in both your stares. “But you don’t get to touch me, or fuck me, or play your games.”

Every one of your new rules hit them like a punch to the gut, a cruel mocking thought passing through the air between them, this was the consequences of their fuck up, and they knew if they wanted to keep you, they would have to listen. 

“One last thing,” you say after a lot of deliberating, a squeeze in your throat trying to stop you getting the words out, a deep frown set between your eyes. “I don’t want you to call me little love anymore.”

[silhouetteonpaper]

Mind and Matter

Summary: When your plan to save New York goes awry, Natasha decides there’s only one person to blame. Natasha x Reader & Wanda x Reader WC: 1,502 Warnings: fighting, use of powers on each other, going unconscious A/N: Just something short and sweet for tonight! I hope you enjoy <3

“It’s the only option.” You explain to the team as they wrack their minds for any plausible idea on how to save the city. A villain with access to the Power Stone is currently wreaking havoc on the town just outside the window, millions of lives at stake. The only idea you can think of is attempting to stop him using your own powers created by the Power Stone. 

You’re immediately met with adverse reactions. “You know our number one rule, we don’t trade lives.” Steve speaks up, making you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, have a little faith in me. If it were anyone else, you’d be all in.” You argue with crossed arms. Nat steps up, calming you before things get too heated.

“Hey, you know that’s not true. It’s not that we don’t think you can do it; it’s purely too big a risk.” She assures, exchanging a nod with Steve. You relent with a deep breath, nodding back at the two. They’re right, it’s a risky move. But that’s not to say you aren’t willing to take that chance in order to save millions.

Tony’s next to offer an idea. “Alright, so no sacrificing the kid.” You elbow him in the ribs, receiving a shrug in response. “What about combining the stone’s effects? Two is stronger than one…” He has a point, making you raise an eyebrow to see what the rest of the team thinks.

“You could be onto something. Wanda? How do you feel about that?” Steve directs his attention to the redhead off to the side of the room. She seems to be more focused on the destruction outside, rather than the planning happening right before her.

“That’d surely be safer. Are you okay with it?” Wanda looks to you, her gaze making you swallow any fears before they even had a chance to rise.

“I’m game.” You tell the group with a deep breath. Everyone nods reassuringly, a plan quickly coming into place. With the combined energy of two stones, the Power and Mind Stone, maybe there’d be a chance at saving the city. There’s only one way to find out.

After a brief moment of preparing to expel an extreme amount of energy, you find yourself out on the streets of New York City amongst the chaos. Screaming herds of people flee the streets, leaving an open space for you and Wanda to battle it out with the hooded figure wielding a purple crystal.

Before he noticed the two of you preparing, Wanda called out her signal. “You ready?” She spoke over her earpiece, both of you on opposite sides of the enemy hiding behind whatever debris kept you unnoticed.

“Ready!” You responded, waiting for her ‘go’ before jumping into action. Within seconds, a purple beam of light shoots from your hands into the depths of the street. Each fragment of light makes your arms burn, the sensation filling your entire abdomen.

A red streak of energy omits from the other side of the hooded figure, each beam finding its way to the enemy as you and Wanda push harder and harder to destroy him. The heat inside of you rises, the fiery feeling flowing inside your veins as the purple glow grows stronger. A bright orb surrounds the figure, a protective move cast by the one wielding the stone.

Every ounce of energy you can spare is targeted towards him, the little gleam of the power stone almost taunting you with how close it is. The tiny stone that causes so much destruction, yet also is the reason you harness so much power. Now in the wrong hands, you feel a sense of hatred towards it, yet you can’t deny it has offered you so much power in the right hands—your own hands.

“He’s breaking! Keep going!” You barely hear Tony’s words of encouragement over the strain in your chest, the aching feeling of everything you have being sent out before you. So close, just a little longer and you’ll have successfully saved New York.

But after only another moment of being blinded by your own power, you notice the glowing orb is gone, the hooded figure now flying up in the sky. It only takes a second for the red beam to hit you dead in the chest, your entire world going black.

“No!” Wanda yells, her red energy soon dissipating like a gust of wind. Her feet pound the concrete as she approaches your unconscious body, but not before a certain someone stops her.

“Get away from her,” Natasha runs over, wasting no time to bend down and check your pulse. Her expression reveals the seriousness of the situation before Steve and Tony have even caught their breath at your side. “She’s barely breathing, we have to get her to the med bay. Let’s move!”

Scooping you up and bringing you back towards the compound before losing your pulse, the team barely has time to see Wanda overcome with guilt. As her eyes fill with tears while rushing after you, she places every ounce of responsibility on herself.

There’s barely any time to sit and sulk, Natasha laying you down in the med bay as Bruce quickly hooks up machines to keep you alive. “What happened out there?” He asks with concern, noticing the purple skin around your chest. Natasha only shakes her head at him, eyeing Wanda who now stands in the corner pacing back and forth.

After hours of waiting, hours of wishing things went differently, Nat finds herself sitting by your bed in the white-walled room, thinking to herself of how she could’ve prevented this. It isn’t until you move your hand under hers that she notices you’re awake.

A deep breath of relief makes you smile as your eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, thank goodness.” She breathes, her thumb rubbing over your hand. You spend a moment taking your current state into account. Nothing is broken… but wow, your abdomen hurts.

“Did we do it? Did we get the stone back?” You ask with a small sense of hope. Natasha’s slow head shake destroys any ounce of that, though. She continues to gaze at you, a worried expression still covering her face.

“Will you worry about yourself for once?” She questions, her own instinct to protect you stronger now that you’re lying here injured.

“I’ll have to ask Tony how.” You tease, finally making Natasha laugh. Now it’s your turn to take a breath of relief, that is until you remember the events from earlier.

The image of Wanda’s red beam of light makes you flinch. “Wanda! Is she alright?” You ask with concern. Now recalling what happened, you know that Wanda would only blame herself for the terrible accident.

“She’ll be okay, you need to rest and recover right now.” Natasha attempts to reassure you, but it doesn’t work.

“Please get Wanda, I need to be sure she isn’t blaming herself.” You demand, watching as Nat raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s not her fault! Nat, please!” Giving in to your pleas, Natasha stands and heads out of the room.

Only a few minutes pass before a familiar face enters, covered entirely in an expression you expected. Guilt. Wanda takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting at the edge of the bed before you pat the side, giving her explicit permission to sit next to you.

Still, she keeps to herself and is cautious to move the bed too much. It’s unlike her, and you can tell something is wrong. You start to talk her out of it before she interrupts. “Wanda-“ 

“No, this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry, I was so focused on putting all I had into my defense that I wasn’t quick enough to change direction…” Wanda explained, tears beginning to fall from her eyes once more.

“This isn’t your fault Wanda, I promise I don’t blame you. It was a sneaky move on his part, we couldn’t have predicted that.” You console her in hopes she drops the accusation.

“No, no, I should’ve been more careful-“ 

You’re quick to interrupt her this time. “No, Wanda. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You were working so hard, no one can blame you for that. The only way I can be 100% alright is if you are too, okay?” You express. She only nods, a small heartfelt smile creeping onto her face as you reach for her hand.

That’s when Natasha walks back into the room, making your focus shift. “And you, forgive Wanda, please. It’s no one’s fault. The quicker you guys resolve your issues, the faster I’m back out on the field.” You tell her firmly.

The silence is broken as soon as she laughs, walking up to Wanda to put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, alright. But just because you helped us feel better doesn’t mean you’re healed. You still need to rest.” Nat voices. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling in defeat.

“Damn it.”

[be4chywritez]

Nico Hishier dating Mercedes F1 driver. The reader just won her first championship title and Nico is supportive towards reader.

omg i literally love f1 x nhl sm🙃

Winner takes it all | nico hischier

nico hischier x driver!reader

You win your first world championship and Nico is there to support you.

my masterlist!

requests are open!

Nico paced around the Mercedes garage, his heart pounding in rhythm with the revving engines. His eyes were fixed on the screen, where the sleek black Mercedes navigated the twists and turns of the circuit with caution. Through the headphones, he heard your voice, loud and stressed.

"How's the gap?" Your frustration was palpable, and Nico's nerves only made it worse as he waited for a reply from your engineer.

"Keep pushing, going full throttle this lap, Verstappen is closing in," came the calm response.

Nico's breath caught in his throat as he watched the screen, his mind racing with worry. He hadn't felt this nervous since the day he met you.

It was a charity event hosted by a major sports foundation, bringing together athletes from various disciplines to raise funds for children's hospitals. Nico, representing the NHL, and you, a rising star in Formula 1, were both invited to participate in a panel discussion about the importance of sports in youth development.

Nico had heard about you before—your rapid ascent in the male-dominated world of F1 was making waves. He was intrigued to meet you in person.

As you smoothed out your dress, a mic tech handed you a mic. You thanked him and looked up, catching Nico's gaze. You offered him a smile, and his heart skipped a beat as you walked towards him.

"Hi, very nice to meet you. I'm Y/n," you said, your voice soft and inviting.

"Hello, I'm Nico. Nice to meet you too," he replied, trying to keep his composure despite the flutter in his chest.

Before you could say anything else, you were both ushered onto the panel.

The panel went amazingly well. You and Nico complemented each other perfectly.

"That was nice," you said as you walked to your cars. "We should hang out without, y'know, the panel."

Nico nodded, his heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the Monster he had just drank. "I'd like that. Maybe you should come to a hockey game?"

"I'd love that," you replied with a smile. "And maybe you can come to a Grand Prix?"

"Deal," he said, grinning. "It's a date."

The rest was history; you and Nico started dating a few months later. You came out to his games, and he attended your races, always finding time for each other.

Now, Nico stood there, watching your car drive its last lap, his lip between his teeth.

The camera panned to Nico. "There's Nico Hischier, Y/n's partner, looking quite stressed." Nico cupped his mouth with his hands, rubbing his face. "C'mon, baby, bring it home, c'mon," he whispered.

Sweat clouded your vision. One lap to go, and it was decided. You and Max had been fighting for this, and the points were extremely close. All you heard was your heart beating in your ears. You looked at your mirrors, Verstappen close behind you. You kept pushing. You reached the last turn; this was it. Verstappen tried to overtake, and for a second, you thought he did. You let out a strangled grunt, pushing harder. You got ahead by an inch, and then, all of a sudden, it went quiet.

You felt your car soar through the finish line, and you blinked, tears immediately fogging your vision. You could feel the rumble of the stands from cheering.

As the deafening roar of the engines faded into silence, Nico's heart seemed to stop along with it. The tension in the air was palpable, every eye in the garage fixated on the screens, waiting for the final verdict.

The seconds stretched on endlessly, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the results flashed across the screen. Y/n had done it. She had crossed the finish line first, securing the championship title by the narrowest of margins.

A collective cheer erupted in the garage, the sound of excitement filling the air as the team members embraced each other in celebration. Nico's heart swelled with pride and relief, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Congratulations, mate!" a mechanic exclaimed, clapping Nico on the back.

Nico turned to see Toto Wolff, the team principal, approaching with a wide grin on his face. "You must be over the moon, Nico. Y/n drove brilliantly out there."

He nods, and Toto brings him into a hug, patting his back. "She did it."

Your engineer's voice breaks your haze, "Congrats, kid, you are the world champion," his voice breaks, "I'm so proud of you," he says.

Toto's voice is now in your ear, "Y/n, amazing drive, you did it, darling. I'm so proud of you. This is only the beginning; you have so much potential." Tears flow harder if possible.

"Toto, team, thank you so much. We did it, guys. Love you guys. Nico, if you can hear me, we did." your voice breaks.

Toto calls over Nico to the wall, he places his headset over Nico, "We did it, my love," you can hear Nico say into the mic, you let out a cry and laugh, "Thank you, Neeks."

Your team rushes over to the barricade, all of them waiting for you.

You park the car in the number one spot, Max in second, and Checo in third.

You flip your visor and get out of your car. Max approaches you, giving you a supportive pat on your back. Checo pulls you into an embrace, and you pat his back, giving him a nice nod. Then, you run towards the barricade and throw yourself into your team, who all cheer for you.

Your mechanics and engineers all pat your helmet, showing you love.

You do your post-win interview and cool down in the room, but those moments felt like a blur. You were called for the podium ceremony, you stand on the top looking down, and you spot him immediately, his eyes are rimmed red probably from crying, he spots you giving you a wide smile, and you wink at him.

your anthem plays, tears flow freely, then afterward the champagne pops, and you, Checo, and Max spray each other, happily running around the podium.

After the festivities you make your way back to the garage, Lewis gets to you first giving you a hug, "congrats kid, you did it,” you smile giving him a pat, then mechanics and engineers, Toto brings you in for another hug, “great race out there,” he pats your arm.

Then Nico charges at you, hugging you tightly, you feel him breathe deeply, “we did my love, we did it,” you mumble into his shoulder

Nico laughed, hugging you tightly. “You did it, Y/N. You were amazing out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You pulled back, your eyes sparkling with joy. “I couldn’t have done it without your support. You’ve been my rock through all of this.”

Nico brushed a strand of hair from your face, his smile softening. “You deserve all of this and more. You’ve worked so hard, and now the whole world knows just how incredible you are.”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

He kissed your forehead gently. “And I couldn’t ask for a better champion to support. Now, let’s go celebrate. This is your moment, and I want to make sure it’s one you’ll never forget.”

[appleblueberry-pie]

I saw your yandere Miguel asks and I had to rush in! How would Yan Miguel feel when he has a S/O who loathes him? I'm talking about actively throwing insults at him, yelling at him if he gets too close to them or even trying to fight or attack him because he kidnapped her against her own will?

You can ignore this if u want!

Bittersweet.

Miguel often tries to find a sweet excuse for why you act the way that you do.

Yes, you did empty all of the contents of the medicine cabinet into the toilet and flushed them away. Yes, you threw his toothbrush and yours into the trash can.

Yes, you busted all of the windows of his extremely high high-rise apartment windows open before he could get back in time to stop you from causing too much damage.

Yes, you cut all possible electrical wires in the house(at least you had the sense to unplug everything before cutting it).

Yes, you took all food in the refrigerator and dumped it into the washing machine, ran 3 cycles on hot water and completely destroyed it.

Yes, you took his clothes and the ones he made you wear and burned them all somehow(you never could figure out how to work the very techy stove, but that day you could. He changed it to a more complicated one).

Yes, you hid in the closet often.

Yes, you would skip your meals(he didn't have the heart to force feed you himself).

Yes, you would scream at the top of your lungs at him, even though you were clearly tiring yourself out.

Yes, you would often try to break into his extremely important work office to destroy absolutely any progress he made on his work(you almost managed to break in at least three times).

Yes, you would threaten to "get him" in his sleep if you had to sleep in the same room as him.

Yes, you would spit threats and insulting words to him all night if he made you "try" to sleep in the same room as him.

Yes, you made him lose sleep.

Yes, you would often cry in the closet, the only space he didn't try to bother you in.

Yes, you would ignore him, and yes, you would try to keep as much distance as possible.

But it's understandable that you act that way. You were just a little scared, is all. You were ripped from a place you felt most comfortable in and thrown into this new environment, he understands that. So, he tries to take as much care of you as possible.

He would remain as patient as possible with you, not minding having to replace anything, knowing he has the money for it. He would let you have your little moment before trying to get closer. Bath time was the hardest for you, but he tried to respect as many boundaries that he could. And this goes for all moments he's had with you. The last thing he wants is to make you as uncomfortable as possible with him. So, he stays patient and talks to you how he knew you deserved and plays the waiting game. He has his whole life and yours to wait for you to finally let him take care of you...........

Miguel leaned against the doorframe to your personal bedroom which was trashed to hell and back, with you sitting against the wall, knees to chest as you stared him down. Miguel's eyes held nothing but concern. Nothing even really happened today, and everything you do always has a reason behind it. He thought you were finally beginning to relax, today almost being your three-day streak of leaving the house alone.

"Baby-" "Get the fuck out."

Miguel blinked and shut his mouth. But then he sighs and slumps his shoulders, walking in. You tensed and scooted towards the closest corner of the room. "Y/n, I'm tired." You could see the exhaustion written on his face as his feet almost dragged against the floor, getting closer to you. You smushed yourself into the corner some more.

"You've been doing this too long, and it's getting childish. Really." His eyebrows scrunched as he watches you pick up a broken wooden piece of your once beautiful bedframe. "Please put that down." The silents grows as you hold the piece of wood tighter and Miguel shakes his head.

"You have to........you have to stop messing up the place. I can't keep replacing the things you destroy, and I can tell your voice is being overworked from how much screaming and crying you've been doing. Please, mi cielo, just stop pushing yourself-" He catches the plank that you chucked his way and drops it on the floor.

"Don't do this to me."

"I'll stop if you let me go."

Miguel sighs and looks to the side, his patience running more thin by the second. "You know I can't do that." He mutters. You hold yourself tighter. "Then I won't stop. I won't stop trying to kill you and won't stop fucking things up until you let me go. I won't." You shake your head and felt your eyes glossing over. Was he really going to not let you go?

You didn't want to keep doing anything that you had done and probably will continue to do. But you can't just let your captor have the pleasure of enjoying you while your mind rots away. There was no way in hell you were going to give in. You felt your breath quicken and began blinking multiple times. Miguel saw you beginning to cry and tried to get closer to comfort you. This was the most conversation he was ever able to get out of you. Maybe he had a chance?

You plant your hands on the ground and shake your head. "No, leave me alone. Stop it!" When he continues to step forward, you take the risk of slipping between him and the wall to run off. Miguel easily grabs your upper arm and you try to pull against him as hard as you can, which obviously wasn't that hard for him to continue holding you. You quickly scan the room, but it was useless, knowing he wouldn't let you reach down to the ground to grab something else to get him with.

So you just kept pulling. You yanked your arm, jerking your body as you attempted to free yourself from his hold. And usually, it would work the first few times, but for some reason he just wouldn't let you go. Miguel tried to tell you to stop, to calm down, anything, but the words went right over your head as you continued to yank yourself again and again. Each pull felt more painful than the last and when you felt your heart aching from exhaustion, you pulled even harder.

Miguel tried. Tried so hard to be patient with you. It's been an extremely difficult these past three months. Three months of your temper tantrums, of you screaming into his face, of you trashing his home that he wanted to make as accessible to you as possible. Three months of his work being put on hold because of you. All of his problems currently have all been tied to you, and a part of him wished it really really didn't have to come to this. He wished he had more self control, because you deserve more than his anger. He wished he wasn't your biggest fear at this moment.

But the more you yanked to get away from his hold, the more you yanked at his mind and the more his tongue felt compelled to speak the words he usually never let get past his basic thought process.

His jaw clenched and his hold became three times stronger and you whimpered, finally feeling what he had been holding back on and his voice boomed throughout the house.

"ENOUGH!"

You immediately froze.

Your muscles and mind completely stilled as Miguel's huffs and puffs of anger rang in the air. His voice continued to rattle in your mind even when the house went silent. He never yelled at you before.

"You fucking done? Hm?" He pulled you to make eye contact with him and he only grew more frustrated with that stupid fearful look on your face.

"Ah. There you go with that look on your face again. I know you know that you're too old to be acting like a fuckin' 6 year old." He watches your face slowly twist into one of annoyance and he raises his eyebrow.

"I'm sick of your attitude, I'm sick of that fucking mouth of yours, I'm sick of you misbehaving, and everything else you ruined!! I'M taking care of you. This is my house." Miguel seemed to tower over you in this moment. In a way you weren't used to. No matter how pissed you were, how much you wanted to talk shit to him in this moment, you couldn't, knowing he had reached his limits. You completely underestimated him. ".......you don't want to know about the original house rules I wanted to put in place before I caught you." He lets you go, but you stay in place.

"But it seems like I have to treat you like a little girl. Es eso lo que quieres? Quieres que papi te enseñe a comportarte como una buena chica?"(Is that what you want? Do you want daddy to teach you how to behave like a good girl?)

He pinches his nose bridge and scans the room once more. "We can start here. This is the worst you've ever done, dios mio. Pisses me off." He then looks back down at you before gesturing his hands, as if expecting you to do something. "...Well, clean this mess up." You frown and he scoffs in annoyance. "What's that face? What? Did I spoil you by cleaning up your messes? You know what, I have a better idea." (My god.)

He gestures to outside of the bedroom. "You clean up your room, and then I'll give you a toothbrush to scrub the kitchen and bathroom floor. When you're done scrubbing every single inch of the ground, you'll mop- stop making that face, I'm not done. You're going to mop both of those floors...." He walks into the bathroom connected to your room and grabs your toothbrush before tossing it to you. "Once the floor dries, do the dishes, clean the oven, wipe the windows, tables, counters, everything. Got it?" You purse your lips in response.

"Good. This is your punishment for today. The rest continues tomorrow. I still don't know if I want to punish you myself or just lock you up for the day. Maybe I'll have you choose, hm?" He softly caresses your cheek with love you never allowed him to give you before pecking your forehead.

"I'm glad you learned to shut your damn mouth. Only God knows what I would've done to make you stop talking." He smiles softly before leaving the room. "I'll be back home in an hour. This place better be spotless."

With his back facing you, he leaves you, knowing you have no choice but to follow his advice.

[samkerrworshipper]

twos a company, threes a crowd pt.3 | personal stress ball

little subspace/subdrop drabble that i wrote for our fav threesome lucy x reader x alexia

hope y’all enjoy!

18+ minors dni. - smut

Being Lucy and Alexia’s personal stress ball was probably your favourite part of your arrangement. When either of the women were tired, grumpy, mad about a bad game, or just overall feeling on edge you were always the first to hear and then feel it. The best though, was when both of them were just as fed up and tired as each other. The two of them used you as their little doll until all of the tension built up in their inside had resolved, the two women fighting over you tirelessly for hours as they worked their very hardest to chase their own pleasure as well as yours.

Currently, you were lying down on your shared bed, your face pressed into the pillows whilst Lucy fucked you from behind. You’d lost count of how many times the women had entered you with different toys and extremities, your brain beginning to fuzz over as Lucy tugged you towards your 7th orgasm of the night, a 7th orgasm that you’d never experienced. Alexia had pushed you, constantly, but she’d only ever gotten you too five before you’d been a mewling mess. Right now though, neither of the women seemed to care, until you safeworded they were going to keep going. You didn’t really mind, you were in pure bliss at this stage, Alexia’s hands sliding all over your torso whilst Lucy worked at your pussy. It was pure euphoria, the feeling of the vibe buzzing against your clit, Lucy’s hips connecting with yours on every single thrust and Alexia’s tongue and lips dancing along your nipples. It was everything you craved, everything that you vied for.

Until you started to feel yourself start to drift, in a way you’d never experienced. Your body began to feel floaty, like you were drifting away slowly and not in the way your impending orgasm normally made you feel. It sent butterflies to your stomach, but not giggly butterflies, butterflies that felt like they were fighting inside of your stomach. It shifted your whole headspace, as suddenly you became so unaware and aware of everything that was happening around you. Alexia’s touch and Lucy;s skin suddenly felt so different, you wanted to yell out but all of a sudden you felt so wordless, so boneless in a way you’d never experienced. Everything in your body felt like it was melting and you couldn’t decide whether or not you liked it.

You felt your body just completely give out, tears starting to leak out of your eyes, and not pleasure induced tears. It was something else, something in your chest that was making you feel all floaty and mellow in such a different way than you’d ever experienced. It was an out of body experience and you couldn’t tell whether or not it was good, it was just something that you’d never experienced before and suddenly it had the anxiety in your chest rising as you struggled to find words or oxygen.

Everything around you was heightened but also inexplicably blurred. Within a couple of seconds you felt your body being flipped, as Alexia’s eyes tried their very hardest to search your now glazed over ones. Her words were mellowed out, just like your brains and she knew exactly what was happening. Lucy also joined Alexia at your head, that was the only indicator that you had about the fact that Lucy had pulled out of you, and suddenly the anxiety fell even greater down on your chest. What if they were mad at you, or thought that you weren’t good enough?

Alexia was making orders to Lucy, but your brain was too spaced out to even attempt to make out what she was saying, her words sounding like a completely different language to you. You felt like the girl in the plastic bubble, like you were in a fish tank just observing the world around you. It was the feeling of your body being pressed directly to Alexia’s that seemed to wake you up a little bit, but not fully. You didn’t know exactly what was happening, all you could tell was that Alexia had lifted your body up into your chest, and automatically, or potentially with the help of Alexia you’d balled yourself up against her chest, tears still cascading down your face as she rocked you back and forth on her chest, her hands raking their way through your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear in an attempt to bring you down back to them.

She’d ordered Lucy to go and run a bath, hoping that the doting and aftercare would be enough to haul you out of the intense drop that she suspected you were going through. She’d never seen you cross over the line into subspace, hell she’d never ever approached the topic of conversation with you, in all of the years you’d been dating it had never been something that had happened. They’d pushed you tonight though, further than you’d been pushed before, she couldn’t even imagine all of the endorphins and cortisol that had dumped itself into your brain, all of the hormones being dumped leaving your body inevitably feeling somewhat empty. Alexia knew you’d never experienced subspace, something that she’d have to explain to you when you awoke from your daze. Right now her main focus was on making the transition back into real life as easy as possible for you.

Her hands were gentle and yet to you they felt so.. thuddy? You could feel every single twitch, every single movement but it was also so softened out. It was unexplainable, an unworldly experience for you that you’d never been through. If you could compare it to anything it would kind of be like a mixture of a hangover and post panic attack. You felt exhausted, every single part of your body ached, and not in the wonderful way that you normally felt after one of your girlfriends had fucked you so hard that your legs didn’t work properly. It was toeing the line of pain, not quite but close.

You closed your eyes for a split second and the next thing you knew, your body was no longer in your bed, it was sitting perched beside your bathtub, Alexia was helping to ease you into Lucy’s arms, her body already sitting underneath the water.

You let Lucy ease you into the tub, making your body pliable for her so she was able to slide you in between her legs, her arms coming down to the front of your chest, essentially bringing you as close to her as she could manage. You relaxed your head backwards into the crook of her neck, her lips coming down to press soft kisses to your jaw and face. You closed your eyes once again, for a few seconds and when you opened them, Alexia was sitting directly across from the two of you, her hands rubbing gently over your calves as she observed you and Lucy.

It was with the soft touches and gentle words that you began to awaken, a transition that had more tears flowing down your face as your ears began to reawaken and your throat began to open back up.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s alright, you're safe, we’ve got you.”

Lucy’s words were murmured against your face, as she continued to press gentle and chaste kisses to your face.

“M’ sorry, M’ sorry, M’ sorry.”

Your words sounded ritualistic, murmured with complete fear in your chest and eyes, what if they hated you? What if they only saw you as damaged goods because of this?

“Hey, sweet, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you were so perfect, so good for me and Ale. Has Ale or anybody ever talked to you about subspace and subdrop?”

You shook your head furiously, tears still dripping steadily from your face. Never in her life had Alexia felt worse, like she’d completely failed you. She edged her way further up the tub, so she was sat directly in front of you two.

“Hermosa, look at me. You did absolutely nothing wrong. What happened was that you experienced subspace, which is just when your brain is dumped with so many endorphins and chemicals that you kind of experience this out of body haze. Luce and I should have seen it, but we didn’t, and somewhere along the way you dropped, pretty hard. It’s natural bebita, we’re just going to have to work on helping you to recognise when something like that happens. It’s completely normal, nothing to be ashamed about, and subspace can be really good, it can make sex feel magnificent, if it’s done right. How do you feel, amor?”

Alexia’s hand had travelled its way up to your chin, pointing your head towards her so you were forced to look her in the eyes.

“Spacey, sad, kind of cold.”

Alexia nodded, recognising the symptoms immediately.

“Okay hermosa, that’s fine, how about I go and make some tea, and I get some ice cream out of the freezer? We can cuddle up on the bed with your favourite blanket and watch moana, how does that sound?”

You nodded at Alexia frantically, your body shaking against Lucy’s as the tears on your face bagn to dry as you slowly started to feel more safe with the two women supporting you.

“Alright, I’ll go and get all of that ready, just stay here with Lucia, she’s going to look after you for me, you’re safe with us and we aren’t leaving you. How about I fetch you some painkillers as well?”

It wasn’t that you were exactly in pain, but you decided that it probably wouldn’t hurt to take some as a precaution.

“Yes please, I’m sorry if you're mad at me, it’s fine if you're mad at me, well it’s not fine but like I’d understand if you were.”

Alexia frowned at you, her head shaking almost immediately.

“No, hermosa, we aren’t mad at you, not a smidge. You were so good for us, such a perfect good girl, we both love you so much sweetheart, now stay here with Lucia for me, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Alexia rubbed your head gently, before lifting herself from the bathtub and grabbing a towel before exiting the ensuite.

“I’m so sorry honey, we should have seen the signs.”

Your frown only deepened further as Lucy’s words rang out in your head.

“I thought you said it was natural, that sometimes it just happens?”

Lucy nodded at you.

“It does sweet, but we should have been more prepared, should have seen the signs better.”

You stopped Lucy by tilting your head up to press a quick peck to her lips.

“If it happens then it happens, you can’t be anymore at fault than I am, and you don’t want me to take the blame, do you?”

Lucy shook her head against you.

“Exactly, so next time we’ll be better, we’ll be more careful.”

Lucy just smiled at you. Sure, you were the submissive one in the relationship, and the youngest. But the three of you all knew who wore the pants in the relationship, who really was in charge.

“You’re perfect princesa, absolute perfection. We both love you so much. You’re the most precious thing in the world, thank you so much for trusting us”

You let yourself rest easily against Lucy’s chest, still not completely down to earth. The two of you stayed in the tub for another ten minutes, before Lucy began to nudge you up and out with her. She dried you off gently, dressing you in one of her hoodies and a pair of boxers, matching with her. Once she was done with drying and dressing the two of you she carried you back into your bedroom. Alexia had changed the sheets, found all of the fluffy blankets that you’d owned, had the starting credits of Moana already rolling and all of your favourite snacks laid out on the bedside table. There was one word to describe your room and that was heaven.

Lucy gently lifted you up and under the covers, passing you over to Alexia who immediately began to wrap you up into blankets, helping to warm you up. Lucy climbed in beside you, wrapping herself in a blanket before handing you a warm cup of hot chocolate, which you were ordered to drink. The warmth of the milk and sugar making its way down your throat pushed away all of the insecurity and helplessness you’d been feeling, as your eyes locked onto your favourite movie beginning to play out in front of you.

You knew that when morning came there would be a lot to talk about, that the new day would bring a whole different topic conversation that you weren’t sure you were ready for. But you knew that for now, you were surrounded by two women who loved you, more than anything else, and they’d spend every day proving that to you if they had too.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Our Little Dance" - BurningCheese Short #7

THE SEQUEL TO "Mine Forever More" IS HERE! After I went through the story in episode 6 a couple more times to help visualize things and NOT just to watch Burning Spice openly obsess over Golden Cheese over and over again I swear, I was finally struck with inspiration. Thought about some concepts during work, fleshed them out more when I came home, finally reached a coherent game plan, and here we are. I really hope you all enjoy it!

WARNING PART 2: Again, this is one-sided BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. This is Yandere Spice, not Flirty Asshole Spice. This Spice doesn't deserve Golden Cheese, he deserves a restraining order, or a spot on a registry, or to outright face the fucking wall. He is worse in this part than the last. Go read something else if you're not comfortable with that (and/or if you're a minor).

He knew she wouldn't disappoint him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Burning Spice never cared for dancing. Those few times he allowed himself to be dragged over to that happy, energetic crowd, in those long-gone days of his heroic youth, he always found himself regretting it. Slow, hunched steps so as not to accidentally stomp on the child's feet, as he was so much bigger and stronger than they were. Awkward mimicry of the group circling him, cheering each other on as they carried out traditional performances (he didn't join them on that, of course, the dance itself was tedious enough). Averted - rolled, if he was annoyed enough - eyes and polite disinterest for the red-faced girl who tripped over herself just asking for his hand (she seemed too starstruck to notice he danced with her out of obligation and nothing else).

He remembers people trying to change his mind on the matter. Dancing was not so different from fighting, they said. They had the same flow, the same energy, if one did them right.

What a bold-faced, silly little lie. Dancing only got worse each time he engaged in it. It was annoying. It was all fake. It was boring. Like everything else turned out to be.

He hated those people. He hated festivals. He hated the pitiful civilizations that conjured them. He hated peace and merriment. He hated history. He hated change. He hated life. He hated dancing.

...Or he did, once. He used to. He sees the error of his ways now.

It turns out that what he'd needed all along was the right dance partner.

And she was exactly that, and so much more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their first dance was too short. Their shared passion burned bright, but fizzled out quickly. She'd missed an important step. Stumbled. Fallen.

It was alright. He was angry in the moment, and he told her so. He punished her for her mistake, for her weakness - just as she deserved. They had both waited far too long for this for her to go on and screw it up.

But it was alright. Really. She was still here; she was still breathing; he could still her heart beating in her chest. So long as these were true, then it would be alright. She would collect herself. She would rise, strong and proud, shaking off all of the dirt and blood. She would return to him. To his embrace. They would dance again, better than before. He would give himself to her in his entirety, as he'd planned to. And she would do the same.

His usual lack of patience got the better of him, if only for a moment, as he tucked her into her prison cell. But how could he be blamed? She was simply too beautiful. She looked too perfect there, nestled into his arms, her head still resting against his chest. He'd told her that the kiss was payment for him allowing her lackey to live - and that was true, it really was. He'd wanted that man dead the very second he came into Burning Spice's line of sight. He was too close to her, in either sense of the word, and Burning Spice simply would not have it. It simply wouldn't do. This error shall be corrected soon enough - with extreme, ever-mounting prejudice, the longer the man spent anywhere near Burning Spice's beloved.

But really, more than that, he just wanted to taste her. He simply couldn't bear not doing so anymore. The faint shimmer of her golden hair in the pale light shining down from the ceiling, those rogue strands still framing her face so prettily despite being otherwise ruined, the feeling of her skin against his, that sweet mouth set in such a dazzling frown, that glint of furious determination in her eyes - it was all too much. It was her own fault, really. She made it too hard to say no.

Fuck, she tasted good. So, so good. Sweet, but tangy, and oh so rich. All mixed together into one flavor that he could only describe as her. As Golden Cheese. And fuck, he was already hooked. Addicted to the feeling of her soft lips on his own. Addicted to the feeling of his tongue caressing hers. Addicted to the feeling of her breath mixing with his. He needed more. He'd die without it. He'd die without her.

She would give him more, he knew. She had to. They had so much lost time to make up for already. A bit of time recovering in peace and quiet (ugh), and she'll be alright again. She'll come back to him. And he'll give her many, many more long-awaited kisses.

Their dance wasn't over yet.

She won't disappoint him. She can't.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yes... Yes, this was what he wanted. Exactly what he wanted. She knew him far too well. Better than anyone ever had.

She escaped. With her lackey, unfortunately - but oh well, they can deal with that later. What mattered now was her taking this next step. Taking the lead in their special dance. So bold, so forward. He loved it. He loved her.

She led him through the halls of his temple; had him weave between the columns, hurry past faded murals depicting his former greatness. He chased her every which way, drank in her lingering scent with relish. Perhaps he should have let her take the lead sooner; this was SO much fun. He was having far too much fun following in her steps. Only she would have the cleverness and creativity to also make their dance a game. To add in all of those aspects of a thrilling hunt that he so adored into their little performance. Yes, he loved this. He adored it.

Honestly, where has she been all his life?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When their dance hit that fever pitch once again, he half expected his heart to burst from his chest out of sheer euphoria. Dragging one another through the temple a second time, all of those worthless walls and pillars and decorations getting caught in their beautiful maelstrom. Such delightful devastation, brought about by her. By his love for her. By them and their union. By this perfect little dance of theirs.

In his manic glee, he let his mask fall, if only slightly. Now wasn't the right time, he would pour his dark, aching heart out to her only when he knew that right time had come - but oh God, she knew exactly what to say to him and how, and how to bring out both the best and worst in him all at once. He would taunt her, mock her, and she would meet his sneering with her own sarcastic indignation. This bickering, this bantering - so, so much fun. SHE was so much fun.

She teased him, too, much to his heightened joy. "The world? I do not care for the world! Nor do I wish to protect it! Or to be called a hero!" A bold yet terrible liar, she was, after she ruined their first dance for the sake of that child. She was truly beautiful, inside and out; at her core shone the bright and pure soul of a hero. And yet, she denied it. It was funny. It was cute. She was so cute.

"I am the Radiant Deity of the Golden City! I fight only to protect my treasures. And I will NOT let the likes of you harm what is mine!" Oh, she truly was so adorable. Prized possessions were just what he loved to destroy most. And he HATED how much these things meant to her: her land, her palace, her gold and jewels, her subjects. He hated them so much, that he let his mask slip: he confessed that, when their dance was over, he planned to go and destroy it all. Everything she ever held dear, wiped off the face of the earth. She didn't need any of it, anyway. He realized long ago that nothing truly matters - nothing except for them, of course - and she would come to realize it, too. He would make sure of it.

Nothing mattered to him except for her. Nothing shall matter to her except for him. They shall keep on dancing forever, even as the world crumbled to dust around them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He began losing his patience near the end. Still more her fault than his. She got to him too much. Too badly.

Some of the weight behind his axe vanished, for he began to favor his own hands instead of it. The axe carved her open, drew her blood, had her dancing so erratically, so desperate to evade its brutal swing - and he enjoyed that. But he enjoyed touching her even more. When he got close enough - and he did everything in his power to get close enough, even for just a second - he would catch her off guard by striking her with his fists instead. He just... he NEEDED to touch her. The itch only got more unbearable as they danced on. Just one split second of his hands on her body, that's all. Even in the form of bloodied knuckles leaving deep bruises on her stomach, or knocking the wind out of her lungs. That's all he wanted. Was that so wrong?

If she noticed this, she made no sign of it. With the way she acted, it was fair to assume she no longer noticed much of anything. She was weakening again; though their dance continued on, though that fire still consumed them, it seemed now that she was being overwhelmed. She was starting to stumble again. She missed a step or two. Had him pick up the slack. It was unfortunate, but still fun, still amusing - he was too far gone to really be upset that this was happening again, to be honest. The spices in the air, the smell of her blood, the sound of her cries and labored breathing... too much. All too much. He was losing his damn mind, and it was exquisite.

But... oh, Golden Cheese, his little bird, with her tenacity and her endless surprises. Even as he took charge of their dance again, she found another way to get to him. To crawl beneath his skin and eat him alive from the inside out.

Her tongue - that sweet, soft, delicious, clever, beautiful tongue - became a poisonous barb, as sharp and painful as the tip of the golden spear that tried (and often succeeded, to her credit) to impale him everywhere she could reach. She attacked not only his body now, but his character, his spirit. She called him a failure. Declared that he had never been a hero nor a god, and never deserved to have been called either. She accused him of self-serving cowardice, of wanting desperately to hide his own shortcomings underneath all of that rubble and all of those mutilated corpses. All with that smug, little upturn of the corners of her lips, and a tiny but bright glint in her eye.

Yes... she knew him too well. She knew how to reach into his heart and twist it. She blinded him with love, then rage, then love again. Invigorating fury. Delectable pain.

And he would inflict this same pain on her tenfold, as punishment for her insults, and encouragement for her to say them to him all over again. For Burning Spice loved and worshipped Golden Cheese, poisonous barbs and all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She fell again. Their little dance came to an end. There she was now, on her knees, her head bowed, soaked in blood. THEIR blood, mixed together. For a brief moment, she had turned him into an artist; in turn, he used her as his canvas.

Just what would it take for her to stop being so damn beautiful, he wondered?

"You said I failed? Hahaha..."

Come, now. He couldn't help himself. Their dance had been so much fun; now he was just riding out the rest of his high. And he wanted her with him, doing the same.

"My... greed... never..."

Still fighting, even now. Even with so many shattered, aching bones. Even with her spear all but snapped in half, rendered practically useless. Her voice sounded tired, broken like the rest of her. But she still feigned strength and poise the best she could. A proud warrior to the very end. Lovely. He would never have accepted anything less.

His mouth contorted into a smile of bitter amusement. "Warlords, heroes, villains and kings... I've seen all of them in my time." She had seen fit to give him a scathing lecture before. Why can't he do the same to her here and now? "They all tried to avert their doom, and like one another, they all perished."

No response. Rude... but understandable. It was fine, regardless. Her silence was answer enough.

"You, on the other hand..." He knelt before her, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers. Her skin felt hot and sticky, those tufts of fluffy hair brushing against him damp with blood and sweat. "Forgotten by history itself, and yet you still persist."

He cupped her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look him in the eye. Gone was that bitterness, no longer was he amused. Now his smile was a manic grin that all but split his face wide open, outshined only by the fire in his eyes. His mask had fallen off completely.

"I fucking love it," he told her.

And then he kissed her again, because he had to. Because he couldn't handle not doing so anymore. Their kiss - his kiss - was starved, desperate, sharp teeth and a hot tongue licking and biting at her lips, that same tongue forcing its way into her mouth and eagerly dominating her own. He finally let his hands roam, more than he'd been able to before, and he lost himself in her touch, in the soft, flawless skin of her arms and legs and stomach - every place she, through her chosen attire, had so graciously left exposed to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, pressing it into her back - right where her wings used to be. She winced; he hugged her tighter. She grunted in pain, he moaned in delirious pleasure, all but drowning her out. He couldn't take it. Just- just couldn't take it anymore. She was just so perfect. So delicious. She danced so beautifully. She drove him mad. He loved it. He fucking loved it.

Their dance was over, but it was fine. It was alright. It had been fantastic, better than he'd hoped. Another devastating loss to her name, worse than the last - but that was how their dance was supposed to go, anyway. It was alright. She's fine, she'll be fine. He won't allow her not to be, because she needed to get back up and dance with him again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again-

"Master!"

His eyes shot open, and he froze mid-lick, still feeling the erratic pulsing of her jugular vein against his tongue (he had briefly abandoned her lips in favor of her neck, showering it with searing, ravenous affection). Slowly, regretfully, he pulled away, releasing Golden Cheese from his grasp and rising to his feet. Back came that old bitterness - pure and true this time, pulling his lips back into a furious snarl and replacing the burning desire in his eyes with boiling hatred.

Nutmeg Tiger bounded into the room and knelt (collapsed, really) at his feet, exhaustion written all over her features but offering him a dutiful smile nevertheless. "Heh... I'm glad to see you... pleased... Great One."

Pleased? She thought he was pleased? He had been relishing his ultimate victory, in this little dance he had with his little bird, finally holding her in his arms again and touching and tasting her... and this- this miserable wretch barges in and interrupts them, and she thought he was PLEASED?

"You! Where have you been?" he spat at her. "You seem even more pathetic than usual."

So pathetic was she, apparently, that she failed to notice his clear outrage at her presence and actually responded. "I merely... took care of that... lackey of hers."

Another fatal mistake. HE had wanted to be the one to "take care of that lackey of hers". He'd wanted to strangle him with his own entrails and gloat that Golden Cheese was HIS AND HIS ALONE as he watched the light in that worm's eyes dim. But no. Nutmeg Tiger robs him of joy and satisfaction yet again.

She kept talking. This weak, mindless, PATHETIC creature kept talking at him. Something or another about the lackey revealing information about Golden Cheese's subjects, and how she'd convinced some Spices to desert. For Golden Cheese's sake - and perhaps to sprinkle a bit of salt into her wounds - he feigned surprise and interest, and laughed in her face when Nutmeg Tiger was finished. He knew all of this already. He knew his little bird inside and out, thanks to the Soul Jams. But playing pretend for a little while wouldn't hurt, would it?

"How does it feel?" he asked her, after he'd indulged in his fair share of cruel mockery. "How does it feel to lose everything?"

Nothing but the sight and sound of her clutching at the ground, trembling fingers raking through the dirt.

"But I must give credit where it's due," he laughed. Perhaps a bit of honest encouragement would rouse her. "After all, it's thanks to you that I realized I had to get my Soul Jam back."

She'd done far more for him - to him - than just that, of course. More than mere words could express. But that was what their dance had been for, wasn't it? That's what all of their dances will be for.

He reached down and grabbed her chin again. "Look me in the eye, Golden Cheese," he said. "I wish to see your face when I kill you."

He won't kill her. He can't. Her death would only result in his own, out of grief and boredom. He will pretend to kill her, then steal her away when neither this brainwashed fool nor anyone else was watching. He'll take her to his palace, to his bedroom. He'll clean her up, help her recover faster so they could dance again sooner. And while he waited, he would open up to her. Pour the whole rest of his heart out to her. Make her whine and beg to have his hands and mouth explore those parts of her that she still hid from him.

"I shall crush your greed, your treasures, your dough." He squeezed her face hard, digging his nails into her cheeks. "And, in the end, I shall take back my Soul Jam."

He knelt down before her one more time, low enough so his face was level with hers. "Don't worry. I always keep my promises..."

He thought he felt her head shift in his grasp... He thought he felt her eyes flicker towards him, if only for a moment, before falling to the ground once more. He promised to bring them back and never let them leave him again.

"All you ever held dear will be swallowed by the Tide of Change."

Everything. Her friends. Her subjects. Whatever still remained of her kingdom. The world itself. All of it. There shall be nothing left except for him, and all of those lonely, adoring, battle-crazed promises he's been silently making to her all the way until that very moment.

Above all else, he promised to keep dancing with her forever.

All he could do - all he's done, all this time - was hope she heard him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She... Golden Cheese, she...

...Oh. Oh, Golden Cheese. His gorgeous, powerful, radiant Golden Cheese...

She surprised him again. As she teetered at the edge of this great precipice, she regained her strength and clarity and saved herself. She broke free from his grasp. She rose to her feet and stood tall. Her voice rose with each word she spoke; words born from pain and sorrow, but overcome with righteous determination. And the Soul Jam - her Soul Jam - recognized this show of unwavering courage and returned to her without hesitation.

And she... then she...

She... changed. She changed form. Gone were those numerous deep wounds that carved and bled into each other. Gone was the blood, the sweat, the tears. A warm, shimmering light enveloped her, stripped her of all of her woes - and her old, tattered clothes - fuck, he'd been staring closely enough to realize that the light had temporarily stripped her bare and damn it, why wouldn't it let him see?! - and released her back into the world, born entirely anew. Dressed in the finest gold, the brightest blue, the- the red? There was red on her now? She donned his color? Just for his sake?

Oh, Golden Cheese, his beloved Golden Cheese... His delectable prey, his precious golden thief, his pretty little bird-

No. Not just a bird now. A phoenix. His stunning, courageous, radiant phoenix.

Yes, his beloved phoenix took him by surprise again and hurried him back to the dance floor... and he watched, not daring to blink even once, as she rose into the sky, eclipsing the sun itself with her mighty wings.

"Burning Spice," she called to him, "It seems the Tide of Change has turned in my favor."

Ohhhhhhhhh fuck, this perfect woman. Always knowing what to say to him and how. Never without her confidence, her pride, her shine. Her radiance.

"Hear my words. You chose to let go of everything you ever had. You do not deserve even the smallest smidgen of my treasures."

Oh, he was hearing her words, alright. He was etching them into the walls of his skull, pouring them onto his brain, forcing them to sink in as deep as possible. Letting the sound of her angelic voice nest in his ears and infect his mind, forcing all of his remaining thoughts out and taking their place like a greedy parasite.

But she was lying and teasing him again, pretty thing. He hasn't let go of everything. He was still clinging to his darling phoenix, desperate to keep her close. She was the only treasure of hers that he ever wanted. And the only thing that will make him let go is death itself.

Yet more glittering golden lights appeared all around her, alongside thickening clouds of earth and spice. From this divine storm came a cluster of spears, each one sharper and deadlier than the last.

The grin on his face ached terribly now, with how great and long-lasting it was.

"How can someone who has forsaken everything prevail over someone who has lost everything?"

Ah, but that wasn't true, either. She has him! She still has him and his love, their love. She still had their little dance; all of those little steps and bends and twirls, their boundless passion and energy, the electrifying touch of their skin and mingling of their breaths. And as he told her once before, he would gladly forsake everything for her. His temple, his possessions, his fellow Spices, EVERYTHING FOR HER AND ONLY HER!

"Remember this moment and taste the bitterness of regret..."

Regret? What regret? He wasn't capable of that anymore and he never would be again - not as long as she was there, taking the Sun's place as the source of light and warmth in his world.

"For you are about to face defeat from everything you have ever discarded!!!"

She dove straight towards him, volley after volley of spears raining down alongside her. His very own meteor shower, with the most captivating shooting star right at the center.

He leapt towards her, the strength of his leap leaving behind a crater where he once stood, wild, demonic cackling spilling from his mouth with abandon. Eyes locked onto one another's: brilliant, wrathful, glittering gold and smoldering, ecstatic, lovestruck red. Spear aimed right at his heart. Axe ready to swipe at her waist and cleave her in two.

She was offering him her hand, asking for his own in turn. She wanted to dance with him again. She missed being in his arms, and the two of them gliding across the floor together in perfect synchronicity. Their unrivaled harmony, the envy of all who witnessed it.

He shall take her hand. How could he not? He loved dancing with her far too much to do otherwise. He loves dancing now, and it's all her fault. She made it too hard to say no.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She did not disappoint him, and neither did the crushing weight of his entire temple bearing down on his back. How touching of her to leave him with such a gift, honestly.

Their last dance ended with a bang. With her staying true to her word and striking him down with all that he had discarded. And now there he lay, in the ruins of that place he and many others once cherished as a home and sanctuary.

He could hear a voice, somewhere at the edge of all the rubble. Nutmeg Tiger. If only he'd had the good sense to slaughter her like a pig like he ought to have ages ago. Now, as he shrugs the debris off of himself and regains his footing, he consoles himself with the idea that in the future, he can execute her right in front of his darling phoenix as a way to return her loving gesture. Yes, that sounds like a plan...

His muscles and bones screamed at him with every little movement he made, but he did not listen. Instead he shambled forward, out of reach of the temple ruins, that mewling, pathetic creature that called herself Nutmeg Tiger still buzzing around him like the insignificant little fly she was.

Clutching at the stab wound in his side (the one that was bleeding the most heavily, anyway), Burning Spice threw his eyes to the early morning sky. Their dance had lasted all the way until dawn... Beautiful.

A smile crept across his face, that eventually grew into a grin, that eventually fell open as deep, joyous laughter erupted from the pit of his stomach and out of his bloody mouth. Nutmeg Tiger started laughing too, but he didn't care about that. This moment was meant for him to savor all alone.

His dance with Golden Cheese had been everything he'd dreamed of and more... And he knew that their next dance would be just like it, for she never, ever disappointed him and never, ever will.

And there shall be many more dances. They shall take each other's hand and sway to their unique rhythm over and over again, until pain and exhaustion consumed them both, only to rise and take each other by the hand and dance another day.

Perhaps those fools from eons ago were right: dancing really is like fighting, if done right. And he and Golden Cheese did it exactly right.

Dancing was Burning Spice's favorite thing now, just as Golden Cheese was his favorite person.

He wanted to dance with her forever. Forever and ever and ever...

------------------------------

this was hard to write lol. I really, truly wasn't expecting people to want a sequel to MFM, so I had no plan ready (which is not like me as a writer at all, I am very much an "architect"/obsessive planner with my stories). I waited for episode 6 to drop for inspiration, and when I got it, I hit another roadblock in the form of me having TOO many ideas I wanted to work with. I thought of focusing on their moment right before GC awakens, but then I wanted to also do something with his confession to her (where he admits that he will gladly destroy his entire life to get to her), but then I also wanted to acknowledge his enjoyment of their game of hide-and-seek in the temple, but then but then but then lol. I eventually zeroed in on that scene where he called what they were doing a "dance", and realized that that was what captured my attention the most. The idea that he views their fight as a dance. So that's how I chose to frame his POV and the story as a whole. Like he thinks they're "dancing" together through the whole thing.

idk if I'm happy with the end result overall. I really wanted to do you all justice since you wanted a part 2 so bad. I can always go back and retool things/try to do a "version 2" with those other, smaller concepts as well. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this. Thank you for caring enough to want to see more from me, sorry for the wait haha

And remember, Burning Spice canonically called her his "little bird" and "lovely" and that he was enjoying "their little dance", and he canonically admitted that he would destroy everything and everyone for her, and no one can ever take that away from us now :)

[mindless-existence1]

Hello beautiful personnn. I hope you are doing well! I have a request (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠).

So, it's a simple thing. If you'd like, I'd love the idea of you writing something soft and romantic with Rise!Leonardo (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) Only if you want of course.

It would be simply beautiful. Reader and Leonardo cuddling, whispering amongst themselves comfortably, saying romantic things and making a few jokes! (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

You know, an innocent teenage love.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I wish you a nice day or night. ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Thanks for the request! I love Leo sm and I love this prompt so hope you enjoy this short little fic!

REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND! REQUESTS FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER OPEN AS WELL!

Authors note: Gn reader with no specified physical traits. Enjoy!

Leo loved to take you on huge grand amazing dates, it was his specialty in fact! And while you loved those, days where you stayed inside and just snuggled on your bed together might be your favorite dates.

Leo was the kind of turtle to constantly be doing something. Wether that be gaming, skateboarding, watching movies, or just doing random nonsense, he's always doing something. But all of that must come to a close when at least once a week you have a lazy day.

For you two lazy days are where you spend time at either of your places- the lair or your apartment- and just hang out and do nothing. Well almost nothing, you have cuddle dates.

During these cuddle dates you get in a comfy position and either fall asleep together or play on your phones. For both you and Leo this is heaven. Physical touch is one of Leo's love languages making this the perfect set up for him.

That brings you to today, you and your boyfriend are tangled in a way that makes no sense what so ever. One of his arms is under you with his hand softly massaging your hair. Hi other lays atop you and his holding his phone behind your back.

You have one arm curled up at your chest and the other lightly scratching and massaging your boyfriends shell. You are slowly falling asleep while Leo plays some game on his phone.

"Did I tell you about what happened in the hidden city yesterday?" Leo's voice is quiet and soft, like it's just for the two of you. You hum out a no and Leo goes on to tell you a short story about an adventure him and Mikey had the other day.

"Mikey really almost got into a fight?" Your question is slightly muffle from it being snuggled into Leo's neck. "He really really did." Leo chuckles.

"I forget, what did you do yesterday?" You talk about whatever you did the day before, your boyfriend humming every so often in response to what you say. "Sounds exhausting." His response is short and paired with a yawn.

"Not as exhausting as what you did." You laugh quietly into Leo's plastron. There's silence for a few minutes before Leo breaks the silence once more. "Hey babe?" His voice sweet and gentle. "Yeah Nardo?" He smiles at the nickname. "Did you know that I love you a lot? Like a lot a lot?" You feign suprise, letting out and over exaggerated gasp. "What really! I had not a single clue!"

Leo laughs and kisses your forehead before setting down his phone and shuffling slightly. After a minute, his voice slurred with sleep, leo says. "You know y/n, I would love to be payed to sleep." You hum in acknowledgement, half asleep and extremely comfy in your cuddled up position.

Leo yawns and right as you both start to fall asleep he says "Yeah it would be my dream job." With a chuckle the two of drift into a deep slumber snuggled up in your lovers arms.

[cavegirlpoems]

Mortality in Black Death Rising

So. This game I'm making, Black Death Rising, uses a pretty OSR framework. That means PCs are fragile, right?

Yes and no.

PCs will hit 0 hp pretty quickly. A normal starting PC will have two dice of HP, one from their Nature (ie human, mimic, vampire, etc) and one from their class (ie cleric, knight, witch, etc). A d6 is typical for both, so you can expect a starting PC will have maybe 7 hp. A typical low-level enemy does maybe d8 damage on an attack. So, you can maybe tank one hit, but two will probably drop you.

What happens when you drop? It's not instant death. Rather, you look up the amount of damage you just took on a handy dandy table and this tells you what Horrible Thing has just happened to you. There are basically four possibilities:

You suffer an injury to a location, giving you a Disadvantage to rolls using it. At low damage, this will be temporary and heal quickly. At higher damage, the injury is harder to heal or even permanent.

You start bleeding out. This puts you on a timer of a few rounds: if you don't get medical attention in time, you die.

You're fucken dead. Maybe instantly, maybe with a delay, but either way death's certain.

Some combination of the above.

While you're on 0, this'll happen every time you're hit. So you'll get torn up pretty fast, and the chances are you'll die eventually.

So, death. When you die you have two choices:

Pass on. Proceed to Heaven/Purgatory/Hell/The Abyss as appropriate. You roll up a new PC, with a slight bonus for each of your previous PCs who's died.

Return from the dead. Take a point of Damnation, and return to life. Whatever your Nature was before, you replace it with an appropriate Undead one instead.

Being undead has some perks (such as immunity to Plague), but some significant downsides too. Necromancy and Turning Undead affects you, but more seriously you can't cure injuries to locations. Your body isn't alive and growing, the more harm it takes, the more permanent damage it suffers.

This means that mortality is a choice. When you get killed, you can choose to stay dead and go to your final reward, which is very noble. Your next character is a fresh start with a blank slate.

If you don't take that fresh start, though, its a process of slow degredation. Those injuries to locations will tick up over time, and you'll get more and more damned the more you cheat death, which also weakens you. There will come a point where - no matter how high level your dead PC - the accumulated damage to your body and soul means that as a player its better to call it quits, cash in your chips, and roll up a new PC.

But! The key thing here is that staying dead is a choice. The game's brutally lethal, with a lot of enemies who can simply one-shot a low level PC or grind them down in fights they have no hope of winning.

This also means that some enemies become extremely scary if they have ways to kill you that prevent returning.

[yuri-is-online]

...so you just threw this beautiful idea of Fyuuture kid, and left me with a brainrot? Especially after you answered one ask with i quote "he loves his parent so much and was really fighting it to keep it together when he saw them alive again" end of the quote. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN? WHAT? HOW?

ask 1 and ask 2

Oh 👉👈? I wasn't expecting to get an ask about this au ever again actually, but I am so glad you did, I like it a lot. I mentioned Fire Emblem Awakening in the first ask I got about it but for those of you who haven't played the game, the plot features the children of your army traveling back in time to try and prevent the end of the world. That's more or less what happened in the fyuuture kid au, at least in my first draft... I always end up associating the "future kid meets their parents" trope with either FE: Awakening or I guess Golden Sun? Which I think is the name of the jrpg where something similar happens idk I just like there being a reason for the kid to need to meet their parents.

In my original draft of the au, Yuu was told by Crowley there was no way home for them, so they settled down with Yutu's father and started building a life together. This turned out to not be true, as the Magical Marshall's office began investigating the overblots that happened while Yuu was in school and came to the conclusion Yuu had something to do with them; so they were secretly arrested, cursed to forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, and sent home. The curse was meant to trigger every time Yuu vaguely remembered their time in the otherworld, with the idea their brain would prevent them from thinking about it after a while. They would have justified it, if anyone had been there to ask, by saying Yuu wouldn't know they were missing anything and would be able to live a happy life. When Yutu was born that made that outcome impossible, but the Marshal's office didn't think to check if Yuu was pregnant...

Shortly after they did that though strange things started happening. Monster attacks got more frequent, blot levels started rising, not to extremes immediately but still enough to be concerning. Reports of a strange, abyssal magic using beast, started pouring in to S.T.Y.X. suspiciously close to Grim's description. While Yuu was busy trying to put their life back together in their world, Twisted Wonderland slowly began to fall apart drowning under an ink colored sky. The overblot phantoms they fought come back and begin hunting in their respective homelands, and rumor has it they can turn certain mages into their thralls...

The curse slowly eats away at Yuu's brain, every time they see something that reminds them of their friends, their time at NRC, every time Yutu does something that would make them think about how much he takes after his dad, they feel a great deal of physical pain and temporarily lose the ability to function. It's killing them, and no doctor or specialist can figure out the cause, so Yutu just has to sit there and watch his parent slowly die and not be able to do anything about it. I was uncertain of where exactly I wanted Yuu to die in the story, but it always was around when Yutu gets isekaid to NRC, either before and he had to leave them behind or after when they both get to go home finally! But Yuu doesn't completely make it, they're able to have one moment of peace with their son and Professor Crewel before passing on.

Yutu's dad changes depending on who you want it to be of course, as does whether they met before he and his friends decided to go back in time to prevent this version of the future from ever happening, but his feelings about Yuu never changes. Yutu really admires his parent, he did even before he learned about them facing down overblots! They were really close and the more he learned about their curse, the more responsible he felt for their death. He's very determined to keep Yuu alive and safe in Twisted Wonderland in this timeline, even if it costs him his life.

His opinion on his dad really changes depending on who it is and what he learns about them. Like can you imagine learning your dad was known for being obsessed with teeth and no he had no intention of being a dentist? Clown behavior 💀💀💀 His friends were all ocs I made but never really developed... I do remember that one was a younger sibling of Kalim's (who could be his aunt if you like Kalim and absolutely embraces that role), her retainer, Crewel's son who also sees himself as Yutu's uncle (the feeling isn't mutual) because he is old enough to sort of remember Yuu and thinks of them as a sibling, and a random oc I based off of the kid from Up for no reason other than I like the movie. They also came back in time, but only Yutu ended up in the right place, just like fire emblem awakening.

idk I should probably do something with it. like writing the reactions for the other dorms...

[femsolid]

Video games recommendation for women part 2

The same criteria as before: has to have a female lead and little to no misogyny

---

1. Shadow of the Tomb Raider

The seemingly invincible and endlessly talented Lara Croft goes on yet another adventure, this time exploring the Amazon jungle and South American ruins looking for a magical artifact hoping to prevent her enemies, an evil organisation called Trinity, from using it.

Tomb Raider is a franchise that has changed quite a bit over the years. Ever since the reboot, Lara has become a fully fledge character and she doesn't do rock climbing in a skimpy outfit anymore (which made the boys mad, boohoo).

But sadly she still suffers from her reputation of sexy girly indiana jones which I suspect is why women don't seem that interested in her. Shame!

It's not usually the type of games I like (very over the top "blockbustery") but I got hooked the minute I set foot (or rather crashed) in the Peruvian jungle. The game is visually stunning, I loved exploring all the ancient temples, the crypts, the jungle and seeing all the animals. The puzzles were challenging, the fights were fun, it was entertaining, well made, with lots of female characters and it takes place in Peru which is just the cherry on top for me.

The only thing I didn't like was Jonah but then I never liked him. He's Lara's best friend and is pretty much there to be kidnapped and rescued in every game, which is kind of a nice reversed damsel in distress trope I suppose, but still, you're useless Jonah I kept telling my screen.

2. Alien Isolation

In this game you play as Ellen Ripley's daughter who ends up trapped in a gigantic spaceship with a lethal enemy, of course, the infamous alien: the xenomorph.

This game is perfect if you are currently suffering from constipation. It doesn't rely on cheap jumpscares and gore to scare you no, it's all about the ~ambiance~. If you are found, you are dead, simple as. And you will die... A LOT. I got an achievement for dying 50 times. I was laughing hysterically whenever the alien caught me by that point and I think the alien was too.

They say "in space no one can hear you scream" but this alien can hear your footsteps so this makes for some tense gameplay, especially as the alien's AI is very good and you are extremely vulnerable. To survive you will have to be very mindful of the noises you make and the noises the alien makes. Oh yeah, you both crawl through the same ventilation system by the way. This could make for some awkward encounter... On top of having to deal with the alien you will meet androids and humans who aren't exactly friendly either. The goal is, of course, to escape from the ship alive.

I have to give the developpers props for really making us feel like we are in an Alien movie. The music, the ship's design, the alien itself, are all very faithfull to the movies and this game is rightly considered a classic.

3. Spiritfarer

In Spiritfarer you play as Stella (and her cat) who has become the captain of a boat on which she welcomes the spirits of different people who have died. She will accompany them for a while until it's time to cross the bridge and say farewell.

It's worth mentionning, given how rare it is, that the main character is a black girl. Your job is to manage the boat (make improvements to it) and become self-sustainable: you will grow your own food, build houses for each spirit and decorate it, grow trees, collect wood, fish, feed your guests. You can make a mill, a weaving workshop, a sawmill, a kitchen, a garden, etc and arrange it as you please.

Most importantly, you will travel the sea to meet new spirits, learn about their lives and fullfill their last wishes before they are ready to leave us. And then you will cry and cry and cry as the music rises and you give them one last hug.

It's a cosy game, slow paced, lots of dialogues, cute mini-games within it, and at times really funny interactions because it all looks so cute yet the characters act and talk like normal people (they told me to fuck off quite a lot) and they will often get into unprompted anti-capitalist rants. It reminded me of Spirited Away a lot, very strange and comfy at the same time.

It's a story about death, about how each person handles it, what they look back on, and yet it's a very pleasant game.

---

As usual I will add more to the list as I reblog it and, of course, if you want to recommend a game too, you're more than welcome. I've been focusing on games with female leads lately so I'll have a lot more to add.

[i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy]

I know you mentioned your asks are open. So I was wondering with the self aware obey me AU. How would the surprise guest sequences feel for them? I’m sure they’d be excited and hoping to jump out of the screen!

I thought I already wrote this! Apparently not 😭

Generally I think that they believe that you choose who it is, even if they know the truth that it’s random (beyond who you put in your team)

those who you have less powerful cards of… they WILL mess with the summons! This also WILL frustrate the others especially the more powerful demons who handle it in ways they aren’t the proudest of

you will get lines that are not in the game at all… you assume they’re Easter eggs that you’ve unlocked somehow

however some of these are more… dark… but I guess it’s a game about demons so you shrug it off

they all try to impress you and will GUSH over gifts you give them to the others and mock the others for not having it (even if they got the same last battle)

you also always seem to have at least one of characters favourite foods and gifts and even if you give them something they don’t like they will accept it gracefully

also if Luke seems to be getting an awful lot of attention in these surprise guests… well I suppose you won’t be seeing him much anymore. However this is an extreme measure as they know how much you adore him like a son. These measures will be taken in certain circumstances though, so be careful if you value his life

I also think that the demon brothers would squabble over who you prefer the most, sometimes resulting in physical fights. Lucifer lets this happen because he loves his brothers but having less competition could be nice

You always feel strangely watched when you have surprise guests and you ALWAYS get fell heart reactions and intimacy levels rise suspicious amounts but you think it must be a glitch and besides what’s the worst that can happen…