#the control she has over her movements is truly amazing

[mikimeiko]

Ariana Grande embodying a 19th century automaton as G(a)linda in Wicked

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Rhiannon ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ who will be her lover

｡°✩ pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

｡°✩ wc: 4.2k

｡°✩ warnings: fluff, smut, enchanted strap on, humping, possessive and aggressive sex, a teeny bit of angst

｡°✩ summary: Natasha's spontaneous research on witches aimed to enlighten Wanda about her lineage, prompting Wanda, in turn, to delve into her own discoveries.

A/N: This fic is born out of whim and I love it. A very special thanks to the co-author of this story, @mikaila-m. Your writing prowess is beyond amazing. ILY 🫶💜

╰┈➤ Masterlist

Natasha stood on the other end of the training room, observing the intense engagement between two figures, Steve and Wanda, locked in a mesmerising display of hand-to-hand combat. Their movements were a flawless blend of offense and defense, a choreographed symphony of skill and synchronization.

Wanda's improvement in her training was noticeable as she seamlessly incorporated her magic with her combat, creating a deadly combination that would be an advantage on the battlefield. Natasha marveled at how effortlessly Wanda manipulated the mystical energies around her, weaving them into her strikes with precision and finesse.

The air crackled with the remnants of Wanda's magic, wisps of energy trailing behind her every movement before dissipating into the open space. With each strike, a renewed surge of power emanated from her slender hands, a testament to her growing mastery over her abilities. She moved with a confidence and grace that spoke of countless hours spent honing her ability.

As Steve countered Wanda's attacks with practised ease, a look of admiration crossed his features. "Impressive, Maximoff," he remarked between exchanges, his voice carrying a hint of genuine respect. "Your control over your magic has grown since then. You seem to be in control and confident of your magic. Well done to you!"

A gentle smile graced Wanda's lips as she soaked in Steve's words of praise for her physical progress. "Thanks, Steve," she murmured shyly, her gratitude evident in her tone. "I wouldn't have done it without Natasha."

It was undeniable. From the moment Wanda arrived at the compound, Natasha took her under her wing, guiding her not only in combat training but also in navigating through her grief. Natasha's empathetic nature and gentle encouragement helped Wanda with her raging emotions and find solace within Natasha's presence.

Natasha's support extended beyond the training room, she was a constant source of reassurance, nudging Wanda towards embracing her new life, and her potential to become an Avenger.

With Natasha's steady guidance, Wanda found the strength to confront her fears and insecurities, eventually blossoming into a confident and capable member of the Avengers family.

As their relationship deepened, Natasha and Wanda's mentor and mentee dynamic blossomed into something more. Over the following months, they discovered themselves enveloped in a cozy cocoon of warmth and affection, occupying their thoughts and dreams alike.

Lost in thoughts, Natasha found herself in deep contemplation until Wanda's approach broke her reverie. Wanda, with a sheen of sweat on her forehead, her heart still racing from the intense training session, and her muscles aching from exertion, stood before her.

"Hey there," Natasha greeted, her fingers reaching out to gently brush away stray hairs from Wanda's face, tucking them behind her ears. "You've truly outdone yourself today. I'm proud of you."

Blushing at Natasha's compliment, Wanda couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks. She ducked her face, trying to conceal her reddening cheeks, and bit her lip to contain the smile threatening to bloom across her lips. "You saw all that, huh."

"Of course," Natasha affirmed, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I enjoy watching you train." With a gentle tug, she pulled Wanda closer and urged her to walk towards their shared room. "Your fighting style is impressive. I can't help but wonder where you learned it from."

"Oh. I learned all this from a super spy. You must know her." She gave a playful smile to Natasha. "She's this tall, redhead, with thick lips, and this cute nose that I like very much."

"Is that right? She must be pretty good then." Natasha played along since she will never tire of having playful conversations with her girlfriend.

Once they reached their room, while Wanda started shedding her work out clothes, Natasha seized the opportunity to share what she's been up to all morning while Wanda was training.

"I've done some research about your lineage." Natasha said as she slumped herself on their spacious king size bed.

"My lineage?" Wanda inquired, puzzled.

"Yes, your people. Witches," Natasha clarified while wiggling her fingers.

"And what have you discovered, pray tell?"

Wanda asked with genuine curiosity, unsure if Natasha was serious or just joking around.

"I've learned that many women accused of witchcraft were burned at the stake, which is barbaric," Natasha began. "What criteria did they use to determine if someone was truly a witch?"

"That's terrible," Wanda responded sympathetically. "Imagine, someone hated the way you behave then decided to gossip about you being a witch."

"I know, right? And some witches supposedly make potions out of herbs," Natasha said, giving Wanda a stinky eye. "You haven't concocted a love potion on me, have you? Made me fall for you?"

Wanda couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's absurdity and was surprised that the formidable assassin would say such a thing, but decided to play along. "Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. Who's to say?"

Natasha simply hummed before delving further into her findings. "I've also discovered that some witches used a cauldron to cast spells and recited incantations from a book with weird languages to curse someone," she explained earnestly, her passion evident in her words. "Honestly, I wouldn't want to provoke or cross a witch from centuries ago. Who knows, they might turn me into a frog or ugly duckling."

"Natasha!" she chuckled at her girlfriend. "I'm not sure what to tell you," she paused to stifle her laughter. "I'm not that kind of witch. I don't cast spells, or read incantations, nobody ever taught me that kind of witchcraft."

A sudden thought struck Natasha. "Perhaps we should seek out a coven for you. You could learn from them and discover yourself in the world of witches."

Wanda shook her head at Natasha's enthusiasm for the witchcraft idea, finding it both amusing and endearing. "I'm going to hop in the shower," she said, "then you can tell me more about your discoveries, alright?"

As Wanda scrubbed the dried sweat from her body, her mind wandered back to Natasha's words about witches. She pondered whether there were others like her, freely roaming and living mundane lives without the constant fear of being burned alive. Should she seek them out, learn from them, and discover the potential and extent of her magical abilities? Yet, her powers derived from the mind stone, raising questions about her identity beyond just being a mystical being.

These thoughts swirled around her mind, leaving her feeling frustrated and alone. She had nobody to turn to for answers, no one in her circle who understood the intricacies of magic like she did. With a deep sigh, she finished showering so she could hang out with her girlfriend and learn more about her discoveries from the internet, even if they are only myths. It is still nice to know some things to help her learn about her kind.

As she emerged from the bathroom, a gentle melody enveloped her, coaxing a smile onto her lips. The strains emanated from a wireless speaker, while Natasha, with her eyes closed, bobbing her head lightly to the rhythm.

Intrigued by the unfamiliar tune, Wanda inquired, "What music is that? I don't recognize it." She couldn't deny the infectiousness of the beat.

"You haven't heard this before? It's 'Rhiannon' by Fleetwood Mac," Natasha replied, her voice tinged with amusement. "You should give them a listen. Stevie Nicks, the lead singer, is often associated with mystical imagery and is dubbed a 'witch' by many."

Wanda took note of the band and will make sure to listen to their songs. Maybe she should also do her own research about her history, just like what Natasha did, as it might give her some insights with her abilities as well.

Both women settled in for their afternoon cuddle, Natasha teasingly remarked, "You're not planning to join those witches who dance naked under the full moon, are you?" She playfully motioned for Wanda to join her in bed. "Although it's a bit eerie, I must admit, I wouldn't mind witnessing you perform under the moonlight."

Wanda giggled at Natasha's remark. "Oh, Nat, you're so silly ," she replied affectionately. "But don't worry, my love, you're the only one who gets to see me naked. No moonlit parades for me."

Natasha grinned mischievously in response. "Good to know, princess," she said, pulling Wanda closer.

****

For the past week, Wanda has been fully engrossed in delving into every detail about her other witches and their capabilities. Since she's not very knowledgeable about technology, she sought help from FRIDAY for her research. However, during this time, she's been experiencing strange occurrences. She keeps hearing voices in her head, echoing in her mind, unsure if they're just her own thoughts or something more.

Sometimes, she even feels a faint whisper calling her name. Interestingly, these voices seem to intensify whenever she's near Vision, leaving her puzzled and unable to comprehend their meaning. Maybe the mind stone was trying to send her a valuable message or a foreboding warning.

However, the witch made a conscious decision not to dwell too deeply on these strange voices and instead carried on with her usual daily activities. Yet, despite her efforts to push them aside, it appeared that the more she tried to ignore them, the more persistently they haunted her. It was as if they were incessantly urging her to acknowledge them, to allow them entry into her conscious mind, and perhaps even to seize control of her thoughts. Each day, their presence seemed to grow stronger, their whispers becoming more insistent, leaving her increasingly unsettled and uncertain about how to confront this mysterious intrusion into her psyche.

It was during one particular night, where the lunar orb shines at its fullness, Wanda finds herself submerged in the depths of her dreams. It's not the typical terror-inducing nightmare, with frantic grasps at bed linens or anguished cries echoing into the void. Rather than the frantic thrashings and wails of a nightmare, she drifts through a surreal landscape where her own magic holds sway. Crimson tendrils of mystical energy swirl around her, painting the air with an otherworldly hue. Yet amidst this ethereal display, there's an unsettling intensity to the voices that resonate within her mind, louder, clearer, and more insistent than ever before.

Take her.

Mark her.

Claim her.

Make her mine.

Wanda surveyed the seemingly boundless space before her, she couldn't shake the oppressive darkness that hangs in the air. Her gaze fell upon a peculiar sight, a circle of candles meticulously arranged on the floor, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows. At the center of this arrangement lay a star, its lines seemingly etched into the ground with an unsettling crimson hue that resembled dried blood.

Intrigued yet apprehensive, Wanda couldn't ignore the magnetic pull drawing her towards the pentagon nestled within the star's core. A faint, almost imperceptible shadow hovered above it, its presence both mesmerizing and foreboding. Driven by an inexplicable instinct, Wanda found herself stepping closer, her heart pounding in her chest with each deliberate movement.

As she knelt within the circle, a sense of unease washed over her, intensifying with each passing moment. Suddenly, as if propelled by unseen forces, her clothing was violently ripped from her body, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Panic surged through her veins, her mind reeling with fear and confusion.

A sudden shift in the atmosphere jolted Natasha from her slumber. Startled, she instinctively reached out for the familiar figure beside her, only to find the space empty. Confusion knit her brow as she scanned the room bathed in an eerie yellow-to-red aura. Sitting up, she surveyed her surroundings, her gaze drawn to a haunting sight: Wanda, huddled on the floor, naked and trembling.

"Wanda!" Natasha's voice rang out, thick with fear and urgency, as she rushed to her side. "What's happening? Are you alright?" She knelt on the floor while searching for any injuries on Wanda's body

Wanda remained unresponsive, her long hair cascading over her chest as she sat in a trance-like state. Her eyes, aglow with a crimson hue and filled with tears, met Natasha's with an unsettling intensity.

"Natasha," Wanda's voice, though still recognizable, carried a different tone, thick with emotion and tinged with an accent more pronounced than usual. "I... I don't know what's happening to me."

The redhead's eyes widened as she took in the surreal scene before them – both she and Wanda ensnared within a large ring of flickering candles, their warm glow casting eerie shadows against the walls. At the heart of the circle, a pentagram etched into the floor seemed to pulse with a mystic energy that sent shivers down Natasha's spine.

Suppressing a surge of alarm, Natasha approached Wanda cautiously, her voice a gentle murmur.

"Sweetheart," she whispered, her tone tender yet laced with apprehension, not wishing to startle Wanda further. "Did you... do this?"

"Yes," Wanda's voice changed and gone was the initial shock in them. "I need you, Natasha."

There was a primal hunger in Wanda's eyes as she lunged at Natasha, her hands, chilled by the cold, cupped Natasha's face, and embraced her with a fervent and intense kiss. It was as though they both sensed the urgency of the moment, wanting to etch this memory into eternity, as if it could be their final time together.

Instinctively, Natasha responded to the kiss with a magnitude that matched Wanda's, her arms enveloping Wanda's waist with a fervent need, their bodies drawn and intertwined perfectly together. Every touch ignited a raging desire between them, elevating their connection to an electrifying sensation. Natasha held onto Wanda tightly, savoring the moment, unwilling to let it slip away.

A deep whimper escaped Wanda's throat from the passionate kiss, breaking away for a second to catch her breath. She can feel her skin heating up, slowly burning her senses but she wanted more. "Natalia," she uttered like a prayer and gently pushed the other woman and urged her to lay down on the floor.

With the use of her magic, Wanda removed Natasha's clothing without warning, wanting to have more skin to skin contact. Once Wanda positioned herself on top, Natasha shivered when she felt how wet Wanda was the moment her core made contact with her crotch. "Fuck, Wands. You're so wet already."

"I want you so bad, Natalia," Wanda breathed heavily as she continued kissing Natasha roughly. Her hands freely roaming on the redhead's exposed skin, groping her breasts, while simultaneously leaving a trail of hickeys on Natasha's chest. "I own you." Her mouth descended on each perky nipple, nipping, biting, and giving them the much needed attention then soothed them with her warm tongue after being roughly handled.

The spy closed her eyes, mouth slightly agape, upon hearing Wanda's possessive statement. She was rendered speechless with the level of power Wanda was proclaiming. Typically the one in control of their sex lives, she found herself surprised yet intrigued by Wanda's boldness, leaving her both aroused and alarmed at Wanda's sudden forwardness and aggression. In a feeble attempt to ground herself, she put her hands on each side of the witch's waist.

This only encouraged Wanda to take matters in her own hands as she started languidly rutting her lower half against the redhead's hips, effectively asserting her control on the pace. She then ripped her mouth and teeth from Natasha's abused nipples to grab her chin tightly, bringing their mouths inches apart. “Tell me who you belong to.” Her heavily accented voice resonated around them and into Natasha's mind.

Their breaths mingled as the redhead answered weakly, “You Wanda, no one else.” The witch grabbed her face even harder, her crescent nails digging into the skin, bringing them closer as their noses brushed together.

“Say it again.” Wanda prompted while grinding her hips harder, smearing her wetness on Natasha's warm skin.

A deep sound came out of the spy's throat, something between a growl and a whine while she tried to focus on forming a correct sentence rather than let herself be consumed by Wanda's presence and touch. “I'm yours Wanda, only yours.”

A raw hum of appreciation escaped the witch's lips as she attached them again to Natasha's neck, leaving purple marks on her smooth skin and never stopping her lower movements.

When Wanda leaned slightly back to admire her work, racking her eyes over the redhead's slightly glistening body. She grinned and performed a careless flick of her wrist, encasing their lower bodies in scarlet tendrils and conjured to reveal a blood-red cock securely harnessed to Natasha's hips.

The spy let out a gasp of surprise at the discovery which was muffled by Wanda's lips kissing her again fervently. Natasha tightened her hold on the witch’s hips which had stilled while she was gifted with her new acquisition.

The tight grip spurted Wanda to move again, lowering herself to rest her wet center on Natasha's thick shaft before starting a slow back and forth movement against it. As her folds gilded lazily up and down, Natasha saw stars appear behind her eyes as she was able to feel everything. She could sense the warm and wet feeling of Wanda's core sliding along her silicone dick.

She stuttered while trying stay conscious, “Ah–Fuck, детка! What did you do?” She shocked back a needy whimper as Wanda gave a harder thrust on the tip.

“Do you like it? I made it just for you, baby.” The witch answered in short breaths, concentrated on keeping her movements slow and not giving in to the urge to forcefully rut against Natasha.

“Oh, yes it feels amazing. Keep going.” The redhead struggled to keep her gaze focused on the ethereal sight displayed above her, her girlfriend wearing a pretty pink flush on her cheeks while her eyebrows were slightly frowned in pleasure.

Natasha used the leverage she had with her hands on Wanda's hips to buck her own up, matching the pace of their humping and increasing the pressure between them, changing the angle a little.

Wanda moaned lewdly when the base of the strap brushed her clit, making her skin burn and tingle from the added stimulation. She placed one hand on the spy's ribs and the other on her shoulder to steady herself, her nails digging into soft flesh.

Mere moments later, Wanda sensed she was already close so she stopped her movements. She didn't plan for them to finish so soon, not after waiting for so long to experience something like this. She reluctantly lifted her body up to position herself above the flushed and panting spy, putting all her weight on her arms and using the strong body under her for balance.

The witch looked down and bit her bottom lip as she lowered her hips to situate her dripping entrance above the tip of Natasha's cock. Once the end of the shaft was snuggled against her core, she lifted her head to stare directly into the redhead's tightly closed eyes, “Look at me while I fuck myself with your cock, Natalia.” Wanda demanded, half-growled in an effort to contain her need to just slam down and get herself off as rapidly as she could manage.

The redhead used all the discipline she possessed to reopen her eyes and bore them into Wanda's green ones. The exact moment their gaze met, the witch started sinking down slowly, forcing the strap to enter her inch by inch. A long moan ripped itself from Natasha's throat as she felt all the nerves of her body setting alight at the feeling of the hot embrace of Wanda's walls choking her enchanted strap.

Natasha buried her nails into the other woman's waist when Wanda's pussy swallowed the last of her shaft, bringing their hips flesh to flesh. The warm, wet and tight feeling of the witch's insides surrounding her whole cock was already too much and she couldn't prevent herself from closing her eyes in concentration to not cum right away.

“You feel so good inside of me, baby.” Wanda whispered, eyeing her girlfriend under her thick lashes, reveled in her evident struggle and pleasure. She stayed still for a moment to give herself a bit of time to adjust to the huge dick stretching her walls before starting to gyrate her hips slightly to test the waters.

Natasha's hips gave a jerky spasm in response as she felt herself getting squeezed from the base to the tip with the slight movement of the woman on top of her.

No longer able to contain herself, Wanda lifted herself up again all the way until only the tip of the cock remained inside of her before sinking down again. Natasha saw dark spots in her vision when the warm heat gripped her dick in a sucking motion as she travelled up. She moaned a series of you're mine you're you're mine while bouncing up in down on Natasha's dick.

As Wanda continued riding her, their chorus of moans and squelching wet sounds were the only noises surrounding them as their pleasure kept increasing and increasing as well as the pace of their thrusts.

“Wanda— I'm close, fuck!” Natasha panted through gritted teeth as her body was tensing more and more upon her impending release. She started giving short, hard lunges upward to drive her strap even deeper into Wanda's pussy.

“Mmmh, me too, come with me детка.” The witch almost whined, her eyes glowing even more darker, and her thrusts becoming messier and sloppier as she edged towards her own release.

Finally the coil in Natasha's stomach. enfolded as she cummed. She sensed her warm juices leaving the tip of her strap as she felt the primal urge to pump her dick harder and deeper into Wanda as she came. As she did so, she felt the witch's walls clenching sporadically around her, signalling she had triggered her own orgasm. The delicious squeezes prolonged Natasha's release until she stilled and flopped back, completely spent and head lulling backwards.

At the same time, Wanda came with a long moan when Natasha's juices warmed the inside of her womb. As she descended from her high, Wanda kept lazily riding Natasha in slow and short motions until she became too sensitive and finally unsheathed herself from the strap with a lewd and wet sound.

After regaining her breath, Wanda suddenly sat upright and found herself gasping for air, her body trembling with the effort to fill in her empty lungs. Then, a peculiar sensation washed over her—an intense detachment as though her very essence was being ripped apart from within, as if an invisible pair of hands were wrenching a fragment of her soul which was being torn away by an inexplicable force beyond comprehension.

An overwhelming tide of panic gripped her, fueled by the relentless force pulling at her. With each passing moment, she felt her very consciousness slipping away, aggressively and mercilessly tearing it from her body. Amidst it all, her eyes blazed with a furious crimson, reflecting the turmoil within and tendrils of her magic hung in the air.

"Wanda," Natasha's voice was fraught with urgency, "Baby! What's happening? Wanda!" she repeatedly called out her name, trying desperately to break through Wanda's trance and tether her back to the present moment. Finally, her persistent pleas got through Wanda's lucid state, her body slumped over hers, body pressing down like a dead weight.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Natasha said softly, gently cupping Wanda's face in her hands and drawing her closer. "Are you alright?"

Gasping for air, Wanda struggled to focus her gaze on Natasha, her heart racing with fear and confusion. "Natasha?" Her voice rasped with agitation. "What... what just happened?" Her mind reeled, wrestling with the disorienting aftermath of whatever had transpired.

"Good Lord, Wanda!" Natasha exclaimed, her relief palpable yet tinged with lingering anxiety. "You scared the life out of me. One moment you seemed fine, and then suddenly you were trembling, your magic flowing out all over the room." She decided to leave out the part where Wanda was clutching onto her shoulders, as if the witch was scared for her to slip away from her fingers.

Wanda's voice wavered with distress as she tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. "I feel pain and at the same time feel empty," she confessed, her brow furrowed with confusion. "I can feel it within my heart but I don't know where it's coming."

Natasha enveloped the weeping witch in her arms offering a sense of security and solace. "Just let it all out, Wanda," she whispered soothingly. "I'm right here, baby."

"I'm so scared, Nat," Wanda hiccuped between sobs, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "It felt like my soul was ripped from my body. I don't ever want to experience that again."

"You're safe with, Wanda," Natasha murmured, her tone laced with unwavering determination. "I promise you, I won't let anything harm you. Whatever it takes, I'll protect you." Her words were a steadfast vow, a pledge of her love and devotion for Wanda.

In the vast emptiness of space, her anguished cries and screams echoed chaoticly through the stretches of the universe once the projection severed. A real testament to her desperation as she struggled to cling to the faint hope of an alternate reality where she could reclaim the life she once knew, knowing all too well it could never be hers again.

She finds herself in a vulnerable position, with nothing remaining but the ethereal burden of her own chaos magic intertwined with the relentless ache of agony, a haunting symphony echoing through the chambers of her soul.

Once again, thank you very much for sharing your great mind with me. @mikaila-m 💜🫶

[sleepingdeath-light]

test your luck ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (kinktober entry)

word count ; 683

content ; sexually explicit content, role reversal, tentative dominant!reader, vaginal sex

fandom ; resident evil

pairing ; alcina dimitrescu x unspecified amab reader

note ; this entry has absolutely kicked my ass seven ways to sunday and i have rewritten this like seven different times before this. i’ve given up, this fits the prompt, so this is what you get lol

note 2 ; as mentioned the reader’s gender identity is unspecified so project whatever you like on them; the only bits of description they get is that they’re (a) amab and (b) usually alcina’s submissive

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was a natural born dominant if ever there was such a thing, having the ability to bring anyone she desired to their knees with only a few words in that enchanting voice of hers and a stern look. A true figure of authority who wielded it with such grace and ease that one couldn't help but give her whatever it was she wanted from them — and you weren't immune to her magnetic presence either.

Far from it, in fact. Which made it all the more unusual and amusing for your lover to watch you try and earn her submission on those rare occasions where she permitted you to take the lead.

Moments like this.

—————

She truly was the most beautiful woman you'd ever known, and that was especially clear when you were in a position like this: strong, pale body stripped bare sage for the tasteful hints of crimson hugging her ample chest and clinging to her waist, remnants of the tailored lingerie that you'd torn from her form in your first display of authority (though even then you'd trembled as you held the knife, desperate to prove yourself and earn the submission she'd so generously given you); impossibly dark eyes staring down at you, the corners wrinkled with a barely contained mirth as she watched you struggle in your attempts to maintain your dominant facade, confidence waxing and waning from moment to moment as you tried desperately to focus on what you were doing — which only made it more difficult for you to keep your composure; perfectly long legs spread just wide enough to accommodate your smaller frame as you shuffled forwards on your knees, using one hand steady yourself and the other to massage your way up her muscular thigh (taking your time to pause and lean over to kiss each stretch mark or scar you stumbled upon as you went), until you were finally able to position the leaking tip of your cock against her gushing entrance. Pausing for the briefest of moments to look for her approval and, upon seeing her smirk and nod, finally pushing in to her wet pussy.

And, heavens have mercy, she felt so amazing that had you died there between her legs you'd have been at peace. Tight, and wet, and warm as her cunt effortlessly swallowed every inch of your length until your pelvis was pressed right against hers and still she barely seemed to react — only bringing another glass of wine to her grinning lips as she let you do what you wished.

You, however, were already struggling to stay in control — of your lover, certainly (though that was only a facade and you both knew it), but also of yourself. Only able to grit your teeth and dig your nails into her thighs as you tried desperately to ground yourself, to be able to hang on long enough to actually pleasure her as she had done for you countless times before. Though with even the slightest movement of your hips causing all of the muscles in your abdomen to tighten in that telltale way, you doubted that you'd be able to last even a fraction as long as you hoped.

'Are you struggling, dragostea mea?' She teased, just barely hiding her amused smirk behind the rim of her wine glass. You hummed and shook your head, not quite trusting your voice, but that only made her laugh — a warm, rich, full sort of laugh that sent a wave of flustered heat erupting across your cheeks and neck — before she wiped a stray tear from her eye and gestured for you to continue.

So that’s exactly what you did: timid, slow, steady, careful above all else, and determined to prove her assertion wrong and wipe that cocky smirk off of her face. You would earn her submission. You would make her cum. You would last.

Or, at least, you’d try your best — but damn if it wasn’t tempting to just give in and fill her dripping pussy with your cum like your mind was screaming at you to do…

[warningsine]

Hm.

Unfortunately, season 5 is not living up to the hype of the strong season 4 finale.

They are struggling to balance the slapstick comedy with the serious subject matter and no wonder. They really wrote themselves into a corner when they decided to incorporate the BLM movement, because the expectations are naturally high. Dealing with the riots and finding a resolution for them must have been no easy feat.

So far they've been more preoccupied with the spectacle of the ladies taking control of the prison rather than with the bigger implications and questions that short-lived power raises for these characters.

As I'm not binge-watching the season, its slow pacing is not bothering me, but I hope they didn't do that thing where all arcs and subplots are unneccessarily dragged for several episodes and then everything happens all at once in the last one, because that is tricky and can backfire.

"Yellowjackets"--to mention another series with an ensemble cast--executed this perfectly in the first season, but the same cannot be said for its second one.

Back to OITNB.

The charm of most characters remains intact.

The focus on Danielle Brook's Tasha and Selenis Leyva's Gloria was an excellent choice, because both actresses' performances are outstanding. That being said, I wish they had given Laverne Cox something more to do as she is also great. Sophia's dynamic with Gloria has had me on a chokehold for two seasons now.

Another welcome surprise: Janae was finally given a more unique voice. Now had they done the same with Alison, I would have been ecstatic. Although well-intentioned, their depiction of Muslim women is not very nuanced.

Additionally, Uzo Aduba is killing it, but what else is new there? Truly loving what they are doing with Suzanne.

Last but not least, is the evil corporate lady going to briefly date Carrie? Hell yes, I've been waiting 5 seasons to see what a smitten Boo looks like. Of course I'm into them since they are not going to last. (Hi, Soso/Poussey and Lorna/Nicky.)

As for the weaker points that hopefully will have been addressed and/or resolved by the end of the season:

Whatever happened to that recurring theme of imprisoned mothers craving to talk to their families? Why are the ones that own phones now not calling their children?

Why are the white pride skinheads hanging out with the women they hate?

The recycling of Piper/Alex's will-they-won't-they relationship--as if there had ever been a chance they would not end up together, please!--is getting exhausting. As a viewer that actually likes them individually and as a group now, I keep wondering: did they not know what to do with them? At all?

As for Nicky and Lorna, I'm trying to leave my monkey brain and biases aside in order to ask: will they ever give them new arcs? Because season 5 is not saying anything new about them. Nicky is still pining over Lorna, who lives in her own imaginary world and refuses to see what is right in front of her. This has been going on-and-off for four--five actually, but alright--seasons now except Nicky is sober yet again. (Good for her.) Lyonne and Stone are amazing, why waste their talent like this?

When OITNB fucks up, it fucks up badly. Pray tell, why is Tiffany still having a relationship with the CO that raped her? They had already made a point about her response to her trauma in seasons 3 & 4. Either there is a deeper message about abusive relationships that is flying over my head or I'm just impatient and this subplot will be completed soon.

[backjustforberena]

Thoughts whilst watching Corlys and Rhaenys reunite in 1x10 (YELL AT ME AND I MIGHT ADD GIFS):

You have it start with the music as Corlys opens his eyes and then the music fades out. It’s so similar to their other two one-on-one scenes (in 1x05 and 1x07), where there was no music. I love thinking about these scenes as a trio, really reflecting the journey this couple ash been on.

The set up is perfect. You’ve got Corlys who’s so physically imposing and dynamic and usually has the most movement in these scenes, bedbound and not able to do much. And then you’ve got Rhaenys who has been such a pillar of strength and composure and armoured and on guard for the last few episodes... now vulnerable.

Seriously, the visual impact of Rhaenys in comparison to earlier in the episode. She’s not had her armour off until this point. She’s got her belt off, the first few buckles are undone on her jacket, and her hair is now out of the ponytail.

AND SHE’S GOT A CLOTH IN HER HAND. I will forever yell about the cloth in her hand. She fell asleep tending to him. Also; jeez louise, the amount of stress this woman has been under and now she’s fallen asleep in a chair.

This is the first time he’s seeing her. It’s not the first time she’s seen him. But both of them see one another whilst the other is asleep, which is kind of cool. But it so gives Rhaenys the advantage.

THAT OPENING LINE. I adore it. It’s so stupid. I want to know Steve’s reaction to reading that for the first time because it is the Corlys-equivalent of a really cheesy pick-up line. And the amazing thing is that because he tries it, you know he’s done it before and it’s worked. What a guy. And he smiled before the punchline.

“You abandoned me. When I most needed you.” I mean, just stab me, it’d hurt less. But it’s the most honest that Rhaenys has been, if not in the whole series, then at least after the time jump and in relation to the situation she was left with. People have been throwing her precarious position and her husband’s absence in her faith and she never said a word, never commented, never betrayed. But the first time she sees her husband, she lets him know. 

She’s so capable, she’s navigated all these political waters, the physical threat to her life, the years alone and she’s been fine and formidable and victorious but it’s STILL: “I needed you.”

Also the delivery of this speech is what I always think about when I listen to Eve call Rhaenys “intense”. It’s so concentrated. Her entire being is focused on getting this message through to Corlys. She can forgive him, so long as he knows. It’s still so controlled, so pointed, so purposeful. All she’s doing is sitting in a chair, telling the truth, and she’s eviscerating him.

Corlys is a man who feels he has no self-worth if he can’t look into his wife’s eyes. I truly believe that. There are two times in this portion of the conversation he looks away from Rhaenys and looks like he’s in agony. Both are when he’s reminded not just that he left her, but that he shouldn’t have. And I think that’s why, apart from war, it takes six bloody years for him to come home. He didn’t want to look in his wife’s eyes.

“We lost, Corlys. We.” - and he gives this tiny nod. Whatever story he’d been telling himself, whatever excuses, whatever justification... Rhaenys is right. And he hadn’t seen it. I think it’s also important that he doesn’t respond to it. In previous scenes, when she’s pushed back on him or done something similar, he’s had a response. (Maybe there’s a comparison gifset in there...)

AND THEN WE GET A SWITCH UP. There’s a before and an after. Both in terms of switching up the conversation from him abandoning her to there being a new King, but physically and it’s the physical one that interests me the most. We go from Rhaenys leaning forwards, in her chair, furious, and over Corlys... to a levelling. Rhaenys gets up and sits on the bed. They’re equal again. They’re literally closer. And her anger has gone so she’s just tending his wounds as he looks at her. And we get that lovely shot of them finally together, in the same shot, connected. You know that they’re moving forward together as now the audience is allowed to see that physical closeness and the intimacy of Rhaenys washing his hands. Even if she has still got her guard up a little.

“The Stranger casts a long shadow over this family.” UNDERRATED LINE. 

I mean, she puts that cloth on his brow and Corlys gives her a look. And it’s the best look because it’s puppy eyes but it’s also the first time he’s properly, unflinching looking at his wife in six years. You can’t tell me he’s not seeing everything she’s been through written on her face.

It’s Rhaenys’s turn not to look at him, as she tells him all about Vaemond. Whether that’s guilt because she couldn’t stop it, resentment because it’s the fruit of all the flaws she’s had been trying to address before Corlys left her, or just a mechanism to stop herself from losing composure, I don’t know.

Hand on the chest. HAND ON THE CHEST!!!

A beat as he looks straight at her. Then: “You were right, Rhaenys.” - she instantly looks at him. Again, just stab me. And when we cut back to him, THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS.

Sad that her being told she’s right is no consolation. She’s not happy about it, she barely reacts. She reacts so slightly when Corlys starts verbally beating himself up. It’s heartbreaking because she loves him: she didn’t want this to happen to him as much as the outcome might be a good one. 

This was his Great Council. This was his humbling. They are now, finally, on the same page.

I’m always fascinated by the choices they make when discuss “our” or “we” vs “I” and “you”. This crops up a lot with them. Here, Corlys says “I reached”, but it’s “our pursuit.” - I really like the feel of that.

And if I wasn’t sad before, I am now. She looks like a weight has been lifted but then he says they’ll declare for no one and she shifts again. The small smile drops. Then it’s just about there as he spells out what her dream would be, just before it cuts back to him. ALSO AT SOME POINT A TEAR HAS FALLEN. Gdi Eve Best and your shiny eyes.

Steve said an interview that Corlys, at that point, is saying what he thinks Rhaenys will want to hear. He means it in the moment, he believes that where they are in the world now, not being near the Throne, is okay. But I don’t think he ever would have stayed out of the conflict. It’s not who he is. STILL HOLDING HANDS THOUGH.

And Rhaenys knows it. She knows as soon as she spells it out, they will be in it, and they will be in it till the bitter end. What she says next will change everything. And it does, even in terms of just the immediate as Corlys gets angry and fired up about Rhaenyra. The conversation has changed once again.

I just want to point out the hands. When Corlys says Rhaenyra was complicit in Laenor’s death, Rhaenys had a hand over hers and Corlys’s. She takes that top hand off. What when Rhaenys pulls away from him, not only are both her hands with his, but his free hand was on her elbow. They got so close so quickly. I love the intimacy.

It’s also another example of Corlys turning things emotional and Rhaenys trying to be practical. It’s just great conflict. Well deserved conflict but also well handled conflict between them as a couple. As much as Rhaenys is finally winning the argument and he’s acquiescing to her wishes, it feels like a natural continuation and restoration of the dynamic we’ve seen with them before, especially when held together against how they start the scene vs how they begin the next one, walking in together.

Corlys being an active listener. Dude doesn’t even blink. Each word hitting home, doing it’s job. Rhaenys knows more than him and he’s listening to that. He knows she’s right and I’m sure there is a part of him that’s ready for the next fight and willing to direct his restlessness somewhere. Our boy Corlys likes a cause. He like justice. He likes things cut and dry. 

I think Rhaenys’s words are less “go back Rhaenyra she’s now wonderful” but more “every man is urging war, but you know war, you know battle, you have the opportunity to help SHAPE this upcoming conflict. Rhaenyra is the only one demonstrating restraint. Someone else needs to.” - it’s about HELPING, and the reasons for helping are clear: their grandkids. They can’t turn away. This is backed up by the way that Corlys basically just dominates that next scene.

To summarise: healthy conflict, vulnerability on show, not a word wasted, body language, THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, three stages to the conversation, HANDS, a restoration of a dynamic.

[orange-ghost]

Long post? I've been thinking a lot about Sia's "Music" lately. No, I'm not trying to insult her. I'm talking about the film. Her diagnosis has been all over my timelines, and most people are condemning her for the film's content nonetheless.

I think all the other big Autism accounts have criticized her well enough that I don't need to add on. As they should. They've all said what I wanted to say & I personally won't be forgiving her so easily. But the "Music" fiasco... actually reminds me of how PAPERBOY (my webcomic) was born, in a way?

Matthew & his classmates have lived in my head since 2015. And I remember that when I started PB, I actually didn't know I was Autistic yet, either. At the time, all I knew was that I was a kid in Special Ed, that disability was an unspeakable topic, and that a lot of the people involved in it treated me badly.

Kids' brains are like sponges-- they soak up whatever's around them. And I was raised drowning inside of an awful program. One that didn't show nor teach us respect, acceptance, or anything like that.

I resented, looked down at "certain" kids with the more noticeable disabilities, for "making SPED kids look bad! You're the reason we ALL get seen as less than!" And the thought that I could ever really count as a disabled kid was my worst nightmare. Because in my head, being disabled would mean that all this abuse was justified. And that I was truly & utterly inferior.

And I'd wring out all that nasty thought-process water. It would spill onto the pages of notebooks that became PAPERBOY's first drafts. And oh, believe me, it stained.

But, unlike Sia, I was a kid then. She's grown. She also put that shitty story up for all to see, while mine was restricted to notebooks. And it was only a year or two after I learned about being diagnosed as a baby that the ND movement(s) started blowing up online. So I looked into it, and like... it opened my 14-year-old mind up a lot.

So you know what I started doing? CHANGING THE STORY. Writing a better one. One that was much less hateful. And I changed the core message from "fuck disability, and fuck Special Ed too!" to "being different is not something we should feel punished and pain for. We are a community. And we deserve better."

Autism is neutral & one if the most human things I can think of. It's not to be demonized or glorified. It's not a tragedy, and it's not always some amazing miracle, either. We are people, not props. We deserve to be spoken & storytold about realistically. And we should be embraced at the end of the day. You need to be willing to learn how to listen & respect life's Autistics as they are.

Sia can't undo the real life harm she & her ableism inflicted. I can't, either. But... she CAN choose to change, grow up & out of it, and maybe lead her audience with her. Hopefully, with her new diagnosis, all that time offline, and a crap ton of self-reflection, she can. I mean, I managed, and I'm nowhere near as life-experienced, smart, OR skilled as she is!

Truth be told, I kinda hope she makes another Autism movie? With a big writing team of experienced, Autistic storytellers who know what they're doing. Cast Autistic actors. And instead of writing about somebody that she clearly doesn't see as an equal, she can actually level with them & write them a better story, too. "Music" was dedicated to somebody, right? I think that Somebody deserved a story where they're not just seen, but they're heard. And spotlighted! (Music certainly wasn't.) So... why not try again?

Or hey, maybe not even that, maybe she can try writing from her own experiences as an Autistic woman this time. Growing up undiagnosed, what that was like for her, dealing with a taught self-hatred in a mask that seems to have controlled her life.

I don't know. I like to live my life focusing more on what we CAN do about something instead of doubling down or getting stuck on what we can't. And I think others should, too.

Doubt she's reading this, but like... you've gotta make this right, Sia. Do better. Figure something else out. That's all.

[444lpblue]

Heavenly Delusion #2 - Two Confessions

Screenplay: Makoto Fukami Storyboard: Itsuki Tsuchigami Episode Director: Kai Shibata Animation Director: Tooru Iwazawa, Yuuko Yoshida, Itsuki Tsuchigami, Haruo Okuno, Mayu Gushiken, Kai Shibata

I'm two weeks late as Saturdays just aren't very good days for me in terms of watching anime in general. I was planning on catching up and just writing about episode 3, but this episode was too amazing not to write about genuinely. I'm not going to mince words about it; this episode just kicked ass. It's easily one of my favorite episodes of the year so far. The first half featured some of the best lighting I've seen in anime for a dark scene like this. It's scary, thrilling, and makes you feel as if you're in a horror video game, not knowing when the monster could attack.

The cinematic aspect ratio change contributed greatly to the change in tension and threat level of the situation and made your eyes solely focused on the screen. I'm not truly familiar with Kai Shibata or Itsuki Tsuchigami, but both of them came together to create an amazing action scene that is complemented by Waki's beautiful and in-depth composition.

Waki's control over the usage of light is genuinely mind-bogglingly great, from creating a lurking sense of danger amidst the darkness to the flashy impact sparks of a monster attacking.

There are so many things to talk about just in this whole scene against the Hiruko. I haven't even mentioned the camera rotation usage. The slow turn of the camera creates a feeling of something creeping toward you with your eyes being naturally drawn to a pitch black background and is a great showcase of anticipation. On the other hand, when the Hiruko attacks, faster movements of the camera emphasize the imminent danger.

The sound design was great for the entire episode, as it has been throughout the series. The quiet ambiance during the fight scene increased the creep level to a maximum, and the impact sounds of the Hiruko attacking remained sharp without being overpowering or unfitting for the scene. The silence when the landlady is sliced by who she thinks is her son is also well-executed, keeping within the established ambiance. It's quick, and the suddenness of it creates a more impactful moment than any loud swinging sound could. However, the great sound design is not to this Hiruko scene. In a simple scene where one of the kids at the facility is climbing up a pillar and falls, the sound of the fall is not exaggerated. Instead, it's a brutal and blunt sound that truly makes you worry for the kid. It's just one of the simple scenes that shows you the consistency of this show in almost every element.

As a manga reader, I already know what will happen to the story. Therefore, I don't have much to say in terms of the mystery setup and questions they have developed in this episode because I don't want to spoil anybody. However, as a manga reader, I'm more than satisfied with what we have gotten in this adaptation so far. It's been a thoroughly amazing experience and has even forced the sloth that is me to write up on this episode, which I was planning to skip and just do a write-up for episode 3. But most importantly, I hope you guys are enjoying it too. If you're curious about my thoughts on the pacing, it's completely fine with me. I've heard some people think it's going a bit too fast, but I don't think so. The way the story is told feels natural to me, and compared to many other anime adaptations, it's near perfect, which is a huge credit to Makoto Fukami. I didn't even really have space to talk about the second half which is simply me trying to tell you to just go watch and please experience it yourself.

[wheneclipsefalls]

This 🥔 is in a hair salon getting her hair treatment and trying hard not to giggle and move while reading alpha Netayam x beta reader...

AHHHH——!!!! BABE!!!! YOU'RE SERIOUSLY AMAZING!!!!

I trying hard not to cry 😭😭 when Neteyam rush over for reader when she's exposed to the sun! The fact I can immediately picture him observing the movement of reader's tent while the other alpha, beta, omega hunters around him just shaking their head or punching each other to stop another from judging (just what my mind imagine it would be the scene, i believe Neteyam at some point has his own troupe, one that will follow him no matter what), just to see reader immediately closing her eyes and collapse to the ground, and for him (and the clans) to realise how dangerous was it to reader but not to them, OMMMMGGGGG!!!! I'm telling you I'm not smiling, I'm not fidgeting, but... It's all spot on!

And the fact Lo'ak and their friend worrying how it tears down Neteyam? 👏👏👏 (CLAP AGGRESSIVELY IN PASSION!) That scene is just well done, cos, it's obvious!! I obviously can picture a frame where all hunters gather together, and their topic just automatically surround of their leader and reader during those few days when reader's literally on the stage of dying!? God, the one who comment on reader is definitely so guilty at some point and also battling himself of the disapproval!!!

And... And... 😭😭😭 The way Neteyam goes out all his ways to interact with reader 😭😭 It's just all so endearing BOOHOO——😭😭 THE FAMILT DYNAMIC!!! Spot on as well!!! I literally laugh out and crackle giggles when Jake and Neytiri spoke their past🤣🤣🤣🤣 And, oh, Mo'at!!!! My favorite grandma of all fandom!!!! Kudos to her😘😘😘

Last but not least... Oooh, 10000/10😆😌😏 Neteyam definitely get the best of himself to experience reader's heat with her. Gosh, feel the rush of it. He definitely been controlling himself and reader's being totally innocent of it just get the best of himself😎😎😎

(No words can put in my gratitude of how much attention you put into this request! I can definitely feel it. The way it's writen... descriptive, elegant, nostalgic... Thank you, Eclipse. I really hope you can feel my feels with all these words, but I know that they definitely do. Love ya❤🧡💛💚💙💜🫂!!!

(Now, I'm going to reread it again and again 😌... Bye💋😘🥰

AAAHHHHH BABE! This is so sweet!! I love how you paid attention to all the little details. I definitely went a littl crazy adding stuff in but I truly couldn't help myself. I love the idea of Alpha Neteyam being so persistent. He is the type of guy that is not about to go down without a fight. Also, I am always more than overjoyed to add in the rest of the Sully family because I aboslutely adore their dynamic. Although Lo'ak doesn't actually know that reader overheard the conversation he does feel partly guilty for joking about it, henceforth partly why he visits Neteyam so often at the outpost when reader is sick. However, Unip feels even worse.

Honestly I would not have written 45 pages for a request if it weren't for how invested I became in this story! I absolutely loved trying something new. Thank you so much for reaching out and requesting it. It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to know that you enjoyed how it turned out. Thank you for all your sweet words, angel!

[jonathankatwhatever]

Continuing. I want to spend a minute describing what it’s like in my head. I am getting ready to go work out and to buy cat litter. Music has been playing in my head, but mostly in the background. More like someone is singing and instruments and I catch snatches and bits, until suddenly I hear a clear singing voice doing a really lovely a capella piece better be true better be true or something truly horrible will happen to you. This repeats in a somewhat cheery manner, and then it started to morph into a rhumba, and then a spiritual.

What the heck is that? Is that you? It isn’t the same voice each time, so it sneak in and onto the stage with a clever mix of voice, tone and genre which makes it feel newer than it is, and so it carries the potential of multiple renditions. That’s an MB. So those song bits are MB’s, which is how I’ve described your stuff, except at larger constructed scales. Perfect verses yes, inside larger constructions, which avoid some of and embrace others of the genre expectations. Penetration through affine relations and thus affine spaces.

That material is opening up. Example is stochastic control and control theory. It’s fun to be able to read material that previously was impenetrable at the idea level because, like the internet says, too many redirects. That’s the parking lot confusion issue: which route, unable to line up the CR, stuttering behavior, error generated at the visible level, like oops can’t go out that way. Solution is generally to identify stutter point and go back up to find a better control point. Same with tremors, which I can induce and stop now by using a pinch movement and then locating the pinch control away from the actual pinching. I remember noticing this while watching an old woman shaking her walker to get it over the T tracks: she could not move any of her structure other than the flapping of her arms. That isolated the image.

So when I yell at you, or have yelled at you, it’s because I’m hearing yelling in my head. I’m hearing admonitions about my conduct all the time. These have diminished as I’ve become more me, as my identity has specified to myself and I assume you over CM1 and I really have to leave so don’t get me started.

I’m amazed at how much less my body hurts. Chronic pains have diminished greatly. I’ll always have and get pain, but discovering how to lower the importance of major pain issues has been fantastic. One effect is that I’m stronger. Like yesterday on the shoulder press machine I did 158lbs, which a full 20 more than I’ve ever done, and that 138 was more than I’ve done. I’m comparing to a seated not standing barbell lift. Standing is more difficult. And the weight came up, by which I mean I was so well aligned that it crept up and crept down with no shaking or pain either way, so it was just a question of being strong enough to push it up and lower it down with no CR issues. Great example of CR in life. My body has changed appearance in under 2 months. Amazed by that too.

[maximuswolf]

From Spider-Man to GoW to Bloodborne: A shift in perspective

From Spider-Man to GoW to Bloodborne: A shift in perspective I decided to give Spider-Man (2018) a try when it came out, because I absolutely loved Spider-Man 2 on Gamecube and knew what to expect from this game… I wanted to feel like Spider-Man again! The game did a great job at telling its story and being a fun cinematic experience, but I was a little underwhelmed by the web swinging. Even when I should’ve splatted into the side of a building at times, the game would just find a way to keep me on track and smoothly swinging. It was a fun experience, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was holding my hand the whole time. I was late to the party for God of War (2018) - I didn’t play it until 2 years ago. Now, this game was still in my wheelhouse a bit, but took the cinematic experience to an entirely new level. The combat was more challenging than Spider-Man, but the puzzles and structure of the game felt so smooth and sanitized. It still felt like I was just along for the ride… Until I started fighting Valkyries.I don’t know why I started doing it - there was no point. I knew I didn’t want to platinum the game or anything and I had already rolled credits on the game. But, I heard about their difficulty and figured I’d give it a try. So, I went to the first Valkyrie and quickly realized something:I wasn’t even close to mastering the combat in GoW. The first Valkyrie was demolishing me over and over and over. It felt like I hadn’t built up any muscle memory for the game. It was like I was out of shape and trying to run a 10K. That struck me as odd, since I was 30 hours into the game at that point and was playing on Give Me A Challenge. When I was fighting that first Valkyrie, I felt something that I hadn’t felt since I played old platformers like Super Mario Bros 3 or Crash Bandicoot… It felt like the game wanted to push me to learn and master something. I was hooked. I went through and beat all the Valkyries. I kid you not, the Queen Valkyrie took me at least 40-50 tries to beat. It was amazing when I finally beat her, because she has the combined move set of almost all the other Valkyries combined. Beating her truly made it feel like I had achieved some mastery over GoW’s combat system. I told some friends about my experience and one of them said, “You should play a dark souls game if you liked the Valkyries.”I didn’t play Souls games. I literally didn’t even know anyone that had beaten a Souls game. But, Bloodborne was free on PSN at the time… So, why not?As soon as I woke up in Central Yharnam, something instantly felt different. The smoothed out, cinematic movement of Spider-Man, and God of War was gone. My character felt VERY responsive, to the point that he looked somewhat herky-jerky as I moved around on the screen. It actually reminded me of controlling Mario in Super Mario 64.My first thought was, “Wow, this feels very video-gamey”. There were few cutscenes, little direction given, and a city that felt like it was built to break my spirit at every turn. Unlike narrative-driven games, it felt like the game wanted me to earn my progression. I wasn’t just along for the ride. I couldn’t even progress past the starting area until I committed to experimenting, learning, and executing. This resulted in an extremely satisfying and memorable gaming experience. The journey of playing that game felt so satisfying, because I was learning the whole time. Dying was rarely frustrating, because I knew I was a step closer to mastery every time. I love me some Bloodborne. I played Dark Souls and Hollow Knight shortly after. Both were amazing games as well! I’m really glad that the Valkyries sparked my interest into a new gaming genre. Have any of you had a similar experience? Getting a taste of something new and having it change your perspective on what games you play? Submitted May 08, 2024 at 02:58PM by RiskyKale https://ift.tt/ja2OcQG via /r/gaming

[rubywithin]

Zen Flow Identity 8

(Serena) “I summon a Battle Cannoneer in the offense line and both my monster will attack you directly!”. (Penny) “I activate Counter Gale which sends all attacking monsters to the defence line!”. It was crazy how Serena had a strong start yet is constantly being stopped by Penny’s movement abilities....it made me wonder if I got lucky against her? This excitement and desire to see the battle play out felt amazing...was this what the voice wanted me to experience? Both of them looked focused now!, (Penny) “I summon Gale Pony in the defence line and put down an effect card!”. (Serena) “I place an effect card and move Rapier to the offense line and he will attack your Pony!”. (Penny) “Foolish play, I activate Battle Summon and bring out Gale Pegasus, then next turn I will use a Stead to return him to my hand and control the board hahahaha”.

Serena then smiled, (Serena) “Nope I saw that coming, I too activate Battle Summon and bring back Commander Ken”. N...no way he was a little stronger than her Pegasus, “Now Ken’s ability activate and I can summon two more Battle Rapier’s and both will attack you directly!”. With that she beat Penny, she used barely any abilities during that battle too....I wonder how skilled Serena truly was. (Serena) “Now don’t bother trying to get a cheap win over that girl” ugh...(Niko) “Ugh thanks I guess”. I don’t know how I feel about her taking on the challenge for me, “Hey Penny your deck is really interesting I would love to face you again some time...”. (Penny) “SHUT UP” she then ran off, (Serena) “Look she is a well known cheater, are you sure you want to face her again”. I just nodded, for ages I didn’t care for Zen Flow but one battle changed my stance on the game! I’m sure I could help Penny find her passion.

I made my way back over to Simon and he took me home, I hope my parents aren’t mad about me staying out a bit later. -Meanwhile at a cafe- (Celina) “I think I’am finally ready to challenge Hikari!”. I have beaten so many talented players lately, I think I have a strong enough reputation in the Zen Flow community beating her will show everyone she is a fraud! (???) “That’s good to know but what is the plan to actually get a battle with her?”. (Celina) “Simple I challenge her at Grace Soul shop opening ceremony, it will be full of genuine Zen Flow fans! So if she refuses the challenge it will prove she has no passion for the game. Plus she is probably dumb enough to think it will be a great career move to take on some random challenger!”. (???) “Fair enough I just think you would have a better chance at the Idol’s Challenge invitational!”. (Celina) “I don’t want to steal the spot light for when you finally take on your sister Hiyori”.

I know I am not the only one with a grudge too settle, so it’s best if I let Hiyori have her chance as well. (Hiyori) “Haha I appreciate that, I guess the drinks are on me then” (Celina) “Thanks Hiyori). Just a few more day’s and I will finally get the chance to beat that faker who made a mockery out of my father! I can’t wait to crush that fake typless deck of hers, I spent the rest of the evening talking to Hiyori about our recent battles. She found it crazy I recently faced a sorceress user but it didn’t really stand out to me! This up and coming battle is the only one that matters to me!

[goldengalore]

Perception

Summary: Y/N has social anxiety. When she and Harry go on a double date with Jeff and Glenne, Harry thinks everything is going extremely well. It isn’t until they get home later that he realizes Y/N didn’t feel the same way.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: anxiety, eating problems due to anxiety, use of alcohol as a coping mechanism (which I do not condone), implied smut

A/N: I focus on H’s POV throughout just to show how much his perception of events differs from Y/N’s, which is tainted by her anxiety. Hoping to write more fics with this concept in the future! :)

***

“You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” says Harry, entering the master bathroom where Y/N is meticulously applying her makeup.

They have dinner plans tonight with two of Harry’s closest friends—his manager Jeff and Jeff’s wife Glenne. Y/N has met Jeff a few times but only in a professional setting, and she has yet to meet Glenne. Although the four of them have tried making plans to hang out before, they never came to fruition because Y/N’s anxiety would always spiral out of control leading up to the event, causing Harry to make up some excuse for why they have to cancel.

“D—do you not want me to go?” asks Y/N.

He frowns, slipping his hands into the pockets of his brown corduroy pants. “What? Of course I do.”

“It’s just...” She pops open the cap of the lipstick in her hands and stares down at it. “This is the third time you’ve said that to me today.”

His eyes fall shut for a moment, as he realizes how his words must have come across when repeated that many times. “Fuck. Sorry, lovie, I hadn’t meant it that way. I just don’t want you to feel pressured to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I can’t bail on them again, H. I’ve done that enough times already.” She sighs. “And besides... Life’s about getting out of your comfort zone, right?” She forces a smile and returns to applying her makeup, leaning forward to get a closer look in the mirror.

He notices a slight tremor in her hand as she glides the rounded edge of the scarlet lipstick across her bottom lip, then the top one. Her lips now match the colour of her knee-length, satin dress. She spent longer than usual getting ready for tonight, going the extra mile to ensure that her makeup was flawless and every hair was in its place.

Now, as he watches her eyes scan her reflection in the mirror, it’s almost like he can read her mind, like he can see her mentally scrutinizing every little aspect of her appearance that she perceives as an imperfection but he perceives as one of the many things he loves about her.

“You look stunning,” he tells her.

She smiles at him. “Thank you, baby.”

He walks over to her. She turns to face him, leaning her hip against the counter. The movement causes a perfectly curled strand of hair to fall over her shoulder. He gently brushes it back. She truly does look stunning, and it’s making him imagine all the things he wants to do to her right now but can’t because it will only end up making them late for dinner, which won’t be any good for her anxiety.

“I hope you know you don’t need to impress them or anything like that,” he says. “They already love you.”

She gives him a skeptical look. “How can they already love me? They barely know me.”

“Um, not true. I talk about you a lot. Probably far too much. In fact, Jeff has told me to shut up on a few different occasions because I wouldn’t stop going on about you.”

His admission makes her laugh and paints her cheeks a cute shade of pink.

“So, they already know lots about you,” he continues, “and they think you’re amazing, which means there’s nothing to prove. All right?”

She nods. He analyzes her expression closely but still can’t discern whether she actually believes him or not; he can only hope she does. He starts to lean in for a kiss but stops an inch away from her lips. She gazes up at him in confusion.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but your lipstick’s going to get all over me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a baby. Come here.” With a hand on the back of his neck, she pulls him in to complete the kiss, then effortlessly wipes the residue off his mouth with her thumb. “See? All gone.” She smiles sweetly, making him want to kiss her all over again.

“Okay, now get out,” she says. “I need to pee before we leave.”

“Fiiine. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

***

They arrive at the restaurant at nearly the same time as Jeff and Glenne. The four of them convene in the parking lot before heading inside together. The reservation is under Jeff’s name. He speaks to the hostess, who guides them to a booth in the private dining area. It’s quieter here, the dim lighting and soft jazz making it feel even more intimate.

Each couple takes one side of the booth. Harry lets Y/N slide in before him. As they get settled, Jeff asks Y/N if she has ever eaten at this restaurant before. She shakes her head in response. Jeff lets out a dramatic gasp.

“What?! H never brought you here?” He shoots Harry a judgmental look. “What kind of boyfriend are you, man?”

“An amazing one, thank you very much,” Harry retorts, adding, “We’ve just never had a chance to come here.”

The real reason Harry has never brought Y/N here before is that eating in public triggers her anxiety. She tried apologizing to him once for her anxiety preventing them from being a “normal” couple who goes on “normal” dates at restaurants, but he refused to let her apologize for something that’s out of her control. And anyway, they don’t need to go out to fancy restaurants to have fun. As long as he’s with her, he’ll have fun no matter where they are.

“Well, Y/N,” says Jeff, “I can assure you this place serves the best food in all of Los Angeles. I would even go as far as saying all of America.”

“Okay, don’t oversell it now,” Glenne intervenes. “You’re going to set her expectations way too high and she’ll be disappointed.”

“Impossible,” he states confidently.

Glenne rolls her eyes and turns to Y/N. “He’s obsessed with this place, in case you couldn’t tell. Brought me here for our first three dates. Not one, not two”—she leans forward to emphasize—“but three.”

“Oh, you loved it.” When she doesn’t refute his statement, a victorious grin spreads across his face.

Y/N seems enamoured with their exchange. “How did you guys meet?” she asks.

They launch into a story about their very first interaction and how that cascaded into them falling madly in love. A story that Harry has heard a million times now and never gets tired of.

He is a hopeless romantic through and through. He loves love.

Jeff and Glenne have always seemed like the perfect match. In all his years of knowing them and especially on the day he officiated their wedding, Harry often found himself wishing that he could find a love like theirs someday—so pure and everlasting.

Although he and Y/N are still in the early stages of their relationship, having dated for only a few months, something keeps telling him that this might be the love he’s been yearning for all along. And every time he’s with her, that feeling is reinforced.

The waiter—a man of average height with neatly styled blonde hair who introduces himself as Dylan—comes by to deliver their menus and obtain their drink orders. When he leaves, Harry, Jeff, and Glenne begin discussing the menu items, bouncing ideas off each other about what to get and commenting on dishes they’ve previously tried.

Y/N is silent. When Harry looks over at her, she’s staring down at her menu blankly, brows furrowed, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. The menu items do have strange names, and the brief descriptions accompanying them are not very informative, so he can understand her confusion as a first-timer.

He leans over to her and points at an item on her menu. “I think you’ll like that one.”

She seems relieved to finally have some input on what to order. “Okay, I’ll get that then. But, um...” She glances at Jeff and Glenne, who are immersed in their own conversation about the menu, and drops her voice as she asks, “Do you mind ordering it for me? I’ll probably butcher the name if I try.”

“Sure, no problem.” He straightens up in his seat, then leans back over to her to add, “But just so you know, I’ve butchered plenty of these names before, so you wouldn’t be the first to do it.”

She gives him an appreciative grin.

After some time, Dylan the waiter returns with their drinks and notes down their orders. From the corner of his eye, Harry notices Y/N down a large portion of her cocktail in one go.

Ever since she opened up to him about her struggles with social anxiety, he has been trying to read up on it to understand and support her better. He recalls reading somewhere that people with social anxiety often use alcohol to soothe their nerves before and during social interactions. He has certainly caught Y/N doing that on several occasions. It may not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but he doesn’t judge her for it. He knows from experience what an effective, though temporary, salve alcohol can be for difficult emotions.

“So, Y/N, how did you and H meet?” Glenne asks. “I’ve heard the story from him, but I want to hear your side of it.”

The three of them stare at Y/N expectantly. Her leg is bouncing up and down under the table. Harry places his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, reassuringly.

She clears her throat. “We, um, we met in a Zoom meeting.”

“Isn’t that so romantic?” Harry jokes, eliciting a laugh from them.

Y/N seems to relax a bit.

“Wait, hold on,” says Glenne. “Rewind before the Zoom meeting. Harry told me Jeff reached out to you about getting your help with some merch designs?”

“Right, yeah, I’ll start from there,” says Y/N. “Jeff actually reached out to my friend Rosie. She handles all my social media and helps my art gain exposure—all the things I’m not so good at,” she laughs. “So, Rosie called me and said that Harry’s team had reached out to her about my artwork and asked if I would be willing to help design some new exclusive merch for him. I was about to say no at first because well, the thought of my art being seen on such a massive scale was... terrifying. But Rosie convinced me that it would be a great opportunity, so I said yes.”

“Thank God,” Harry mumbles off to the side.

She smiles, continuing, “So, Jeff and Rosie set up a Zoom meeting for the four of us. I was absolutely terrified. Rosie had to do all the talking. I probably said five words the whole time.”

“I remember exactly what she said.” He counts on his fingers as he lists off the only phrases she uttered that day, “She said ‘hi,’ she said ‘thank you’ twice, and she said ‘bye.’”

Glenne chuckles, looking fondly between the two of them.

“The second meeting was much better,” says Y/N. “I actually had to talk since Rosie couldn’t make it. Harry made me feel really comfortable, and I realized he wasn’t scary at all. He also kept reassuring me that I would get credit for my work, as if he thought I was afraid he’d take my designs and run off with them.”

“Yup, classic Harry,” Jeff remarks, nodding along.

Harry’s cheeks grow warm. “Well, I thought that was why you were being so hesitant!” he explains to Y/N. “It’s happened to other people. Didn’t want you to think I was like that. I’m a man of integrity, you know.”

“Oh, I never doubted that, baby.” She places her hand on top of his on her thigh.

“What a sweet story,” says Glenne.

“Who knew people could find love over Zoom?” Jeff jokes.

“Maybe they should change their branding and become a dating website,” Y/N adds facetiously, earning a laugh from all of them.

It delights Harry to see her opening up to his friends. This is the Y/N that he wanted them to see—the funny, opinionated person beneath the shy, reserved exterior. There are so many layers to her, and he finds himself uncovering more and more each day.

Their orders arrive a few minutes later. Everyone except Y/N digs into their food ravenously. She takes several sips of her drink before even touching anything on her plate. On the way there, Harry told her that she could sneak her food onto his plate if her nerves were making it hard to eat.

“You’re just saying that because you like stealing my food,” she said when he suggested that.

“You got me,” he replied with a smirk.

Dinner goes swimmingly. Y/N loosens up more and more as time goes on. He can’t be sure whether it’s the effects of the alcohol—she’s had a few refills of her drink—or the fact that she’s growing comfortable around Jeff and Glenne, but he would like to think it’s mostly the latter.

After they’ve finished eating and paid the bill, Y/N and Glenne take a trip to the restroom while Harry and Jeff wait for them outside the entrance.

“Y/N seems awesome,” says Jeff. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from us this whole time.”

Harry gives him an amused look. “I haven’t been ‘hiding’ her. She’s just shy. Takes her a bit to get comfortable around new people, you know?”

“I get that. Hopefully, she can start coming out with us more often. Seems like she’s going to be around for a while.” He smirks and playfully nudges Harry, who coughs into his fist to cover up the boyish grin on his face.

The door to the restaurant swings open, and out comes Glenne with her arm wrapped around Y/N’s. They’re both laughing about something.

“Someone’s a little tipsy,” says Glenne, as they approach the men. “She almost walked into a wall coming out of the restroom.”

Y/N hiccups. “It came out of nowhere!”

“Good thing I caught her in time.”

“Thanks, Glenne,” says Harry. “I’ll take it from here.” He puts an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders, pulling her close to him.

“I’m really not that drunk,” she insists, hiccupping again.

“Whatever you say, lovie,” he teases, planting a kiss on the side of her head.

***

Y/N hardly says a word on the ride home. Harry doesn’t think anything of it. He’s still musing over what a wonderful night it was and how happy he is that his friends got along so well with his girlfriend.

When they get home, it’s still pretty early, so they decide to watch a movie on the couch. Y/N lays with her head on his chest, face directed towards the TV. She hasn’t moved or spoken in a while, so he assumes she must have fallen asleep in the middle of the movie, but then she suddenly sits up.

“I’m pretty tired,” she tells him. “I think I’ll head to bed, but you can finish the movie without me.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods and gives him a kiss goodnight before standing up and leaving the room.

The movie is still playing, but Harry can no longer focus. Something about the way Y/N avoided his eyes when she got up and her brisk steps toward the stairs has left him feeling strange. He tries to tell himself that she probably was just tired and eager to crawl into bed, but that explanation doesn’t quite satisfy him.

His gut is urging him to go upstairs and check on her. He waits a few minutes before doing so, quietly climbing the stairs and approaching the bedroom at the end of the hall. The lights are off, but the door is open. He peeks inside and sees Y/N laying there under the covers, wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.

“Lovie?”

She jumps a little at his voice and turns to look at him. “What are you doing here? I said you could finish the movie without me.”

“It’s no fun without you.” He walks in and sits down on the bed next to her, switching on the lamp on the bedside table. “Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He lightly taps her forehead, bringing a small smile to her lips.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them again, there’s a sadness behind them. “I’m sorry, H.”

“For what?”

“For embarrassing you in front of your friends tonight.”

He frowns. “Embarrassing me? Is this about you getting a bit drunk? There’s nothing wrong with that, you know. It’s not like you were climbing on tables and cussing at bystanders. That would have been embarrassing, albeit hilarious.”

“It’s not just that.” She shakes her head. “It was... It was everything. I was trying so hard to act normal, but everything that came out of my mouth just felt awkward, and then there’s the fact that I hardly ate anything and I know Jeff noticed that because he kept glancing over at my plate and I could tell he was wondering why I was acting so strange, and I also feel like I wasn’t contributing to the conversation as much as I should have, but I—I just didn’t know what to say and now I’m worried that they think I’m boring or—or—”

“Y/N, hey.” He places a gentle hand on her chest to halt her rambling. “Take a deep breath for me.”

He feels her chest rise as she inhales deeply, then fall as she exhales slowly.

“Good. Now listen to me. You did not embarrass me, so get that out of your head right now, okay?”

She nods.

“And all those worries floating around in your head? They’re not real, my love. Dinner went really well. You were wonderful. I was having a great time, and I thought you were too, but I might’ve misinterpreted things—”

“You didn’t. I was having a good time. It was only after we left that I started getting in my head about it...” She pouts. “I just really wanted them to like me.”

“They do. I promise they do. You know what Jeff said to me while we were waiting outside for you and Glenne? He said you’re awesome and he hopes you’ll come out with us more often. Now why would he say that if he didn’t like you?”

She shrugs. “Maybe he was just trying to be polite?”

That almost makes him keel over with laughter. “Sweetheart, Jeff and I are way past the point of politeness. If he doesn’t like someone I’m seeing, he does not hesitate to tell me.”

She stares up at the ceiling again, biting on her lip. “Did he really say that?” she asks eventually.

“He did. But in case you don’t believe me, let me show you a text I received from Glenne after we got home.”

He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his messages with Glenne. The most recent one says, “Hey, I completely forgot to get Y/N’s number. Would you mind sending it to me? I’d love to plan a shopping trip with her sometime.” He allows Y/N to read it for herself.

She looks at him when she’s done.

“Believe me now?” he asks.

“Yes.” Pulling the covers up over her head, she releases a frustrated groan. “Why am I like this? Why do I get so in my head about these things?”

He lies down next to her and brings the covers back down below her face. “It’s okay. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you, that’s all.”

“How do you even put up with me?”

“The real question is, how do you”—he shifts to get on top of her, his face hovering above hers—“put up with me”—he kisses her lips—“constantly wanting to be around you”—then her neck—“all the bloody time?”

She giggles and squirms at the feeling of his lips leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all along her neck. As he continues showering her with kisses, all the tension seems to evaporate from her body. She melts into the mattress. Determined to help her relax even further, he lifts up the covers from the bottom and ducks under them.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’ve heard the best remedy for anxious thoughts is an orgasm.”

He can hear the amusement in her voice as she replies, “Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm.” His hands slide up her thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself.

“Did you read that on WebMD?”

“Something like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[acotar-thirst]

Learning how to hide the overprotective side

Azriel x reader (1301 words)

Summary: Azriel allows himself to watch you at the sparring area with Cassian, until you get hurt and he has to control and hide the instincts that take over him when he sees his mate in pain, even if it was nothing serious. You still don’t know about the bond. 

Warnings: Small wrist injury, anxiety of keeping a secret

A/N: Had this idea a few nights later, finally managed to write it the way I was imagining. Probably gonna turn this into a fic, because ‘in love Azriel’ is never too much, right? 

Let me know your thoughts about this, it’s really important to me. Thank you for reading!

Requests open

_________________________________________________

    Azriel suppressed a smile as he landed in the training area and saw (Y/N) cursing at Cassian as the two fought. The brother was the best warrior he had ever seen in his life, the female was making the general sweat and give his everything to defend himself.

    The Spymaster crossed his arms and admired the scene in front of him. His shadows moved with agitation, trying to break free of his control to go to where (Y/N) was. Azriel was increasingly prepared to face their defiance when the female was around.

    Taking advantage of the fact that no one else was around and only the two of them fought, not paying attention to him at all, Azriel allowed himself to admire (Y/N). Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail on top of her head and sweat was all over her body.

    (Y/N)'s gaze looked wild, it always looked that way when she was fighting. Strong thighs and arms blocked Cassian's blows and then attacked, giving the male no time to adapt to the way she fought.

    A laugh rippled from deep in Azriel's chest and rumbled through the training area as (Y/N)'s sword slammed sideways into Cassian's rib, causing him to groan loudly in pain. The Shadowsinger just couldn't get his mind off how amazing this female was.

    As if sensing he was thinking about her, (Y/N) looked at him as soon as she heard his laughter. Her cheeks turned red as she noticed him watching them from outside the ring.

    Her gaze lasted a second though, the distraction was enough to give Cassian the upper hand. Without a shred of regret, the general swung around and swung his sword which (Y/N) narrowly defended himself.

    Her sword fell to the ground as it collided with Cassian's, the moviment hard enough for her to withdraw her hand to her chest and groan in pain. Azriel's shadows reached her faster than his brother.

    A fierce rage swept over the Spymaster, his hands clasped at his sides with clenched fists as he charged toward (Y/N), making him use his shadows to hide his shaking arms. Azriel glared at his brother trying to control the instinctive rage that was burning inside of him. It was his laugh that distracted her, he knew, but he still wanted to punch Cassian’s nose.

    “Well, (Y/N), I’m sorry, but next time remember to not look at the pretty male while sparring”.

    "Get the fuck out of here, Cassian."

    Azriel's voice was cold as ice, cutting the humor from his brother's face. Ignoring Cassian's meaningful gaze, the Shadowsinger took the hand that (Y/N) was still cradling her chest.

    She looked up at him, her expression showing pain but weaker than before. With the other hand, (Y/N) wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked at Cassian as he walked away.

    "It's ok, I just got the wrong angle".

    He muttered in agreement, still examining her fingers and wrist movement. When she moaned low in pain, Azriel glared at his brother again. Cassian was standing near the exit, drinking water.

    “When are you gonna tell her?” was the expression on the general's face, looking at his brother and (Y/N) with irony. Azriel rolled his eyes at him and returned his attention to the female in front of him.

    Trying to control his feelings, Azriel continued to massage her forearm. The approach between them always made him nervous, his entire concentration focused on not showing what he truly felt.

    He'd been trying to stay away from (Y/N) for months, ever since the mate connection snapped inside his chest. When he understood that only he had felt it, he tried his best to give her space so she wouldn't feel suffocated.

    “Thank you, Az. It's already better.”

    Her voice was shy and he smiled at her. One of the shadows climbed to her head, tangled itself in (Y/N)'s hair and then caressed her face. The female grinned and looked gratefully at Azriel.

    “How was the meeting last night?”

    He broke eye contact, not trusting himself and clearing his throat before asking the first thing he could think of. (Y/N) took a deep breath as she picked up the training sword from the ground and set it in place.

    “The usual, you know Keir is a little bitch”.

    "He really is".

    There was humor on her face when he agreed with her, which served to ease the tightness in his chest that she had visited the Court of Nightmares without him around. Azriel went to the table with the water bottles, Cassian already gone, and poured two cups, handing one to her.

    It had taken all the strength he had not to go after her at the meeting with Keir and the snakes in that part of the Night Court. Just the assurance that Rhysand and Feyre would be by (Y/N)'s side made Azriel stay on Velaris, trying his best to occupy the mind that begged to be close to the female.

    (Y/N) looked up at the sky, savoring the touch of the sun on her face. Her cheeks were still pink, as they always were when he was around. He took the opportunity to absorb every detail of her again.

    The leather of her robes showed the curvature of her body, years and years of training that made her one of the best warriors he had ever seen. Before the bond even settled in Azriel's chest, (Y/N) had all of his heart, even though he was too stupid to notice. The Shadowsinger spent a lot of time chasing after Elain to really understand that it was the newbie who actually put real feelings inside of him, far beyond physical arousal.

    She remained completely ignorant of his feelings or the bond of souls they shared, but Azriel told himself he was in no hurry. He had waited for her his whole life, and seeing her there, enjoying the warmth of the still shy spring sun, he knew it would be worth it.

His gaze traveled all over her, as if he needed that to remind himself later, when he would be alone and he had to practically lock himself in his own room so he wouldn't chase after her. (Y/N)'s wrist was slightly swollen and this woke Azriel from his own thoughts and desires.

    “You should see Madja, get her to examine your wrist”.

    A smile grew on her face, then she looked at Azriel. His heart beat fast inside his chest whenever she looked at him like that… as if she could see the deepest parts of his dirty soul.

    “That's not necessary, Azriel. Really”.

    She added the last word when she saw that he would insist. (Y/N) put the cup down on the table, approaching him for that and making his hands shake with need to touch her.

    “It could heal wrong and…”

    “Azriel…”

The Shadowsinger sighed. The idea of ​​picking her up and flying to Madja was growing in his mind, but he controlled himself at the warning tone in her voice when she said his name… Something flashed in response inside him.

    "You really shouldn't worry, I'm okay". She said, flicking her wrist in front of him as if to prove the fact. “Plus, I’m kicking Cass’s ass in revenge tomorrow”.

    Laughter lit up (Y/N)'s face, as if that thought really brought her joy. Before he could control it, he smiled. The female winked at him and waved, saying goodbye and stepping inside the house.

    “That makes two of us”.

    He said softly when he was sure (Y/N) wouldn't hear. Cassian would regret hurting her at their training session later.

[tommyspeakycap]

Shelby!Sister getting poisoned whilst at dinner with the whole family?

changed it up a bit; reader is roofied at one of Tommy’s fancy ball type parties and there’s one particular gentleman around to help her out.

Good Team

Tommy had, since you were merely a little girl, endeavoured to introduce you emphatically as (y/n) Shelby, with your surname stated soaked in ferocity and warning. You are a Shelby. You are his little sister. He makes sure people know this. He makes sure they’re aware. He sees it as a pre-warning, the kind that lets them know that you are very very important to him without actually saying those words. He sees it very much as a pre-warning for grievous bodily harm had any trouble befell you at another persons discretion. It was made incredibly clear from the moment you were born that you were so far from off limits to the enemies that it didn’t even need to be spoken.

However, it was a relatively occasional occurrence that this message was not accurately conveyed no matter how clear your elder brother was about the matter.

You were usually so cautious and so careful, but you were in your brothers own ballroom with his own supplied champagne and you had very few worries of such a simple business gathering for Christmas. You were adorning an extortionate dress that Tommy had made for you with a beautiful fur shoulder wrap, cheeks dusted with a champagne blush and a gorgeous smile as you mingle with rich business people and rich couples who were born into money. They were amazing at times to ogle at, coming from such a poor background. It was hard enough to adjust to your new life flaunting pretty dressed and walking around with a purpose and a job that had significant purpose.

But it would be safe to say you weren’t so worried around these people. You should’ve known better.

You keep blinking, squeezing your eyes shut to try and find vision again that wasn’t restricted by blurriness. The heels on your feet didn’t aid you much in the way of keeping your balance as you stumble into a long hall. You don’t remember where you last saw Tommy and you can’t remember where the glass you were holding had gone. You don’t know much, but you know you have to find one of your brothers.

Heavy footsteps behind you send a rush of hazed adrenaline through your veins, forcing your legs to move you faster, your arms scratching off paintings lining the walls as you attempt to use the wall as a stabiliser.

“Someone’s ‘ad a bit much, eh?”

Your eyelids flicker as you try to keep them open against the light that makes you feel like your head is exploding. “No, no I- there’s someone trying to get me!” You hiss in a slurred whisper with arms that flail somewhat aimlessly as you attempt to point out the person behind you. The man with his his on your biceps steadying you leans around to get a good look behind you. “Mhm, there me no one there love.” He says, confused. You can only vaguely make out who the person is that holds you up and it’s someone you know your brother only invited so as to attempt to talk him into taking on more Blinders for distillery protection.

Alfie Solomons wasn’t entirely the most trustworthy person that surrounded your family. Him and Tommy had a bit of a tendency to betray each other, no matter how expected it always was. The London gangster probably wasn’t the best person for you to bump into and definitely not the most reliable, but he was who you had ended up with and although it could have been him that drugged you, it didn’t seem incredibly likely. He told Tommy and Grace when greeting people at the front door; “No need for the fucking niceties eh Tommy? I’m here for the free booze mate yeah?” and walked on through with a pat on your brothers back.

Despite the fact you didn’t have much trust in him, you really holed that he wouldn’t pass you off as being overly drunk and leave you alone. You feel dreadfully unwell. Alfie looks down the hall, then back at you and with a sigh, he slips his strong arm around your waist and pulls you into his side for your stability. “I think you’re right, Shelby.” Alfie mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for even you to hear. “Something‘s just not right.” He turns to you, using his arm that wasn’t wrapped around you to lift up your eyelid. Beyond the terror in your eyes in huge pupils. “You’ve been drugged,” he states, his voice still low. “Better find those brothers of yours.”

That brings you some form of relief, but the terror still remains. It’s a scary situation, to know what you want to do with your limbs and know exactly what you want to say, but to be unable to speak or walk or even hold up your head. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing and you were drenched in sweat. It’s a shock you didn’t recognise you had been drugged before hearing Alfie say it.

His arm is tight around the waistline of your expensive ballgown, keeping you steady against him as he walked as quickly as he could manage while supporting your weight. He only vaguely knew the way around Tommy’s huge country house, but he did know where the man’s office was, and he’d likely have a maid in waiting there who Alfie could send to fetch him once he got you there. As you both rounded the corner into the corridor that would take you to Tommy’s office, there a man dressed like a waiter standing seemingly waiting for you. “Mister Shelby sent me to collect his sister when he heard she was overly inebriated.” The man spoke. Alfie furrowed his eyebrows tightly, but nodded and walked you closer to him. You want to protest, but your mind still won’t coordinate with your body and the most you can do is grumble. “She’s a bit hard to deal with,” Alfie admits, “So a tip you should really know for the future?“ He pauses, moving as though he’s going to pass you over to the arms of the other man. Alfie leans in until he’s only a few inches away and whispers a warning “I fucking hate liars,” before sharply drawing back his head only to but it forward forcefully into the man’s face.

He stumbles back and Alfie takes that opportunity to grab the front of his suit jacket and throw him behind the two of you with a kick to his ribs a few times for good measure. He wraps his arm back around your waist and continues on down the hall as if nothing had ever happened. “Could tell by his-fuck!”

A yelp leaves you as your legs tangled when you attempt to bare your own weight and instead clatter to the floor with a thud. Alfie grunts and you fight to open your heavy eyelids to see that a man had dove out at him from a doorway along the long hall and there were now two of them and two of you, except they were both conscious and had full control of their own bodies, whereas it fell upon Alfie to fight for both of you. The Londoner truly does not know why he has put himself in this situation for anyone, never mind for a Shelby he had only met a handful of times. But every time he had met you, you were incredibly sweet and kind to him. He knows that they’ll stop attacking him if he allows them to take you and do as they please with you, but something in him prevents him from doing that. There’s a part of him that encourages him to spit the blood from his mouth and stand in front of where you lay in and out of consciousness on the fell, ready to fight for you like he had something to lose if he couldn’t protect you. Tommy would never know Alfie was there with you if he walked away now, but something in him wants to be there. Wants to fight for you.

And so fight he does, throwing punch after punch, trying to take on two at once. Alfie managed to take the blonde assailant out of the game by cracking the wall with his blonde head of hair, leaving him out cold and potentially dying on the floor. When he does that though, his moment of glory is short lived before the other appears behind him with an arm tightly around his throat. Alfie squirms and grunts, kicks and scratches attempting to get him off, but the attacker holds on despite the blows. Alfie thinks he may well have to accept his fate.

Then he clocks you again on the floor, except this time your hands and trailing up your leg, hiking up your dress and he is utterly confused at your behaviour, thinking that it must be the drugs acting weird in your system. That is, until your dress reaches your upper thigh and the London gangster feels what he thinks may be butterflies when he spots the holster and gun that had been well hidden by your long ballgown. He would laugh, grin even if he wasn’t being strangled nearly to death. He watched with blurry vision as you try to steady your hands enough to point the gun at the attacker that was too bury trying to hold Alfie Solomons down to notice your movements. Alfie squeezes his eyes shut as you move your finger over the trigger and he hopes to God your heads are steady enough to shoot the right person.

The bang goes off and very suddenly he can breathe again. He notes that’s a good sign. He scrambles away quickly, turning around to press his foot onto the bullet wound in the shoulder of his attacker. “I will come back for you.” He growls in warning, pressing his foot harder to elicit a scream before he nods and turns back to where you stand. He wipes the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the carpet before he steps forward to swoop your gun off the floor to slip it back into your thigh holster, and then he helps you back up. Except this time, he opts to sweep you off your feet and into his arms bridal style.

“Good shot.” He notes. You breath a chuckle with hooded eyes in response, but can’t manage anything else. If you hadn’t been severely drugged, Alfie might’ve kissed you.

He makes it to Tommy’s office with ease, ordering the maid to get your brother immediately. Alfie lays you down on the soft couch in the office, placing you carefully on on your side for safety in case you’re sick. He uses the not blood tinted side of his handkerchief to wire some blood splatter and sweat from your face gently, and offers a gentle smile. “We make a good team, Solomons.” You hum with words slurred and jumped, but he understand what you said nonetheless. “That we do, Shelby.” He rumbles back in response.

The moment is as any moment of yours often is, interrupted by your elder brothers storming in. Immediately, Alfie is ripped from your side by Arthur slamming the him roughly against the wall with a loud clatter and bang. John goes to stand by Arthur’s side, and Tommy takes a knee beside you. The patriarch places his cool hand against your forehead before dipping down to place his ear just above your lips. “She’s breathing.” He concludes, “What the fuck did you do to her?” He sneers through gritted teeth as he takes steps towards Alfie.

“And why the fuck and you covered in blood.” Alfie sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and flaring his nostrils at the proximity of the three Shelby brothers. “Funny story, you see Tommy.” He grumbles discontentedly, “Seems as though someone tried after your sister right under your fucking nose, mate. Drugged her drink, removed her from the crowd. I found her wandering the halls all fuckin’ disoriented yeah. Now I don’t like a man who targets a woman, much less has to fuckin’ drug her to achieve it.” Alfie shrugs. Tommy narrows his eyes, but something in him believes what the Camden Town Gangster is saying. Alfie doesn’t have much in the way of necessity for taking you and it wouldn’t make sense for him to have the opportunity to but instead to bring you here. Right to them. “Doesn’t explain the fucking blood.” Arthur hisses, slamming his back against the wall again.

Alfie holds up his hands. “You’re little sister isn’t such a damsel as you make her out to be, Thomas. She has a fantastic shot. Some cunts-“ Alfie’s words drop with pure venom as the reminder of the man nearly strangling him to death reenters his mind, “Came after her. On that note, you’ll need a carpet cleaner and some body bags just along that hall. Don’t let the missus see that mess.”

Tommy paused for a moment, his eyes not leaving Alfie’s even when he speaks. “John, check that corridor.” He orders, making his younger brother grunt in annoyance but do as told nonetheless. “Arthur,” He grumbles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Take our sister upstairs and get Polly.” Arthur is hesitant. Tommy might believe the words that Alfie speaks, but Arthur despises him and the only thing he hates more than Alfie is the thought of Alfie’s hands on you without any of them being there to help you, protect you. He knows that he and a Tommy are asking themselves the same question. How could something like this happen to you right beneath their noses. How had someone managed to get to when they were so close, literally right in the same room in an event organised by them. Arthur couldn’t answer the question, but could probably have killed Alfie in his rage at that moment. “Arthur,” Tommy repeats more firmly, “Go.”

This time, he listens. But that’s not without a warning glare at Alfie, who simply offers a smirk in response. “And you,” Tommy says finally, turning his attention to Alfie, “Fuck off.”

Alfie chuckles, but begins to walk past Tommy to leave the office when the smaller man grabs his arm in a vice like grip that makes the tips of his fingers tingle with the strength of it. Alfie feigns the urge to fight back in reaction to the pain. Tommy leans in close to his ear with a low snarl, “You don’t just help people. I don’t care what the reason was eh, but don’t you ever go near my sister again.”

Then he lets go and Alfie simply shakes off his arm and walks away. He hasn’t listened to Tommy Shelby any time in the past, and it appears as though today will be no different.

[ira-hydrangea]

Heartslabyul with Food Souls

Riddle Roseheart and Fruit Tart

“You have a queen as the food souls?!”

“Are you that surprised to see Yours Truly here?”

Riddle is very surprised to find a young woman wearing a ballgown and holding umbrellas just walking inside the rose maze. He becomes more fascinating when he learns the women's identity. Who would have thought this beautiful young woman is a food soul.

Fruit Tart admits she became curious about this new world. That is why she asks Y/n to summon her so she can enjoy the scenery over there. She was very drawn to Heartslabyul because the smell of rose and tea captivated her. And Riddle as a gentleman, politely asking her if she wants to join him for an afternoon tea. She immediately agrees.

They bonded over time. Riddle politeness and knowledge especially at tea amazed Fruit Tart. So she starts to speak more civilly with Riddle, something that she only does with Y/n as her Master Attendant.

Trey Clover and Pastel De Nata

“Ouch!”

“Keep your hand on yourself, human.”

Trey's meeting with Pastel De Nata is something he found interesting. He meets him in the Kitchen. Yeah, nothing out of ordinary except for the exquisite dessert that rests in the middle of the preparation table. Tempted by the smell, Trey tries to take one but immediately gets slapped in his hand by Pastel De Nata.

Pastel De Nata usually ignored Trey whenever they use a kitchen together until Trey start to show off his skill in making a dessert. Suddenly, Pastel De Nata casually tells Trey a few tricks to do the technique for baking. (Teacher-student Vibe). This resulted in an accidental bonding time.

Trey didn’t mind the lectures, especially from someone skillful like Pastel De Nata. His baking skill is something Trey must give applause for. That one time, Trey was tempted to ask Y/n to let Pastel De Nata visit his family bakery for Winter Holiday and maybe help around the shop. Unfortunately, He refuses the invitation stating that his job is to be on His Master attendant's side.

Cater Diamond and Kimchi

“I didn’t know you would be this hot in person”

“You didn’t see my sister yet if you think I’m hot.”

Cater find Kimchi while he tries to find a good spot for the next magicame. He then stumbled against Kimchi that danced inside the Rose Maze. Captivated by her movement, he decide to take it on video. After that, he startled Kimchi with a loud clap thus ending her performance. He was pretty surprised when he learned that Kimchi is one of the food souls Y/n has.

Kimchi at first was still wary with Cater especially after seeing how obsessed he is with the phone but after being pestered by her sister, Ddeokbokki’s. She starts to hang around Cater although it is usually more like she practiced her dancing and Cater records it. (He secretly shows it to Y/n).

Cater try to ask for Kimchi permission to post that recording online. Kimchi didn’t like any attention. She even told Cater to go for her sister for this kind of thing. But because of Cater's beggings, she allowed it. The video blows up in one night. Now Kimchi is the one that pesters Cater to delete that video because there is certainly someone (Vil) that keeps talking to her about giving him the dance lessons.

Ace Trapolla and Black Tea

“Woah! Be careful with your gun!”

“Maybe next time you learn not to startled me.”

Ace and Black Tea have a weird relationship. The first time they met, Black Tea almost shoot him in the head for bullying Y/n. Thankfully, he manages to dodge. After Ace and Y/n form a close relationship, Black Tea still didn’t like Ace. Mainly because of his prank. Y/n needs to stop Black Tea before things start to go out of control and try to get Ace down from the tree.

Black Tea harbor some dislike towards Ace. What is the reason? Simple. He always drags Y/n into trouble or pushes some unnecessary trouble towards Y/n. Black Tea always shoots Ace if she thinks he crossing a line. But she must admit, Ace makes a pretty strong bodyguard. If someone tries to harm Y/n while Black Tea isn’t there, just count on Ace and Deuce. (After Ace told her that incident, she went for a manhunt)

Ace has his own reason always picking a fight with Black Tea. First, he tries to pester her by giving him some shooting lessons. Secondly, he claimed that Black Tea is too serious so he try to cheer her up (it backfired). Although they both can’t be left alone in the same room for over 10 minutes. They have the same priority. Y/n protection is the top one.

Deuce Spade and Vodka

“Is that a white eagle?”

“Give me a liquor and I allow you to pet Andre.”

Deuce is in a fight with another delinquent that keeps making trouble for him until a white eagle swoop in and attacks them. The young woman with white hair soon pops out and freezes the rest of them before turning to Deuce. She introduces herself as one of the Y/n food souls that have been summoned.

Vodka will say Deuce is such a strange fellow. Why did you try so hard to be a model student? But the second someone tries to mess with him or her master attendant. Boom. His persona as the delinquent shows up. She teases him for having a dual personality.

Soon Deuce starts to know her better and when Vodka comes to visit or is summoned, he will take her to look around the school. But when they return to the dorm, Vodka oddly will smell like alcohol and when Y/n asks Deuce about this, he will sheepishly smile and shrug. Deuce learn if you want to ask favor from Vodka just give her a drink with alcohol.

[battlekidx2]

She-ra Season 4 Re-watch Thoughts

This season has a massive jump in animation quality. The backgrounds are stunning. I think the best example to watch and see the progression is the fight in episode 4 between Glimmer and Catra. The movements are incredibly fluid, the animation for glimmer’s powers is amazing, and the animation of the flames and embers around them is what made me want to mention the animation for this episode specifically.

This season is probably the most consistently strong of the first four with the string of episodes from Hero to Destiny part 2 being the strongest stretch of the series so far. The only reason it’s not longer is because of the episode Boys’ night out which breaks up what would otherwise be a consistently fantastic season. I understood where they were going with the episode but I wasn’t a fan of the execution. There were moments that were great within but they emerged all on Catra’s end. Her opening up to the already gone Scorpia and the moment when she discovers Scorpia are gone are some of the best character moments this season.

Actually almost all my favorite moments this season belong to Catra. I really liked the way they showed her downward spiral and the devastation at realizing that everything she thought she wanted is empty and hasn’t filled the void she has in her heart. I’ve said it many times before: I think Catra is the best written character on the show and I feel like every season just manages to prove this point. “[she] tries so hard to play the big bad villain, but [her] heart’s never been in it… This was never what [she] really wanted”.

This season is also what I believe to be the darkest of them all. This is the “the empire strikes back” or the “Avatar book 2”, if you will, of the series. While the 5th season is comparably dark this is the one where everything ends on a pretty hopeless note for the heroes. The whole season the heroes are losing ground in the war while the horde topples territory after territory. And in the end both the horde and the rebellion are in shambles, she-ra has been destroyed, Glimmer, Catra, and Hordak are aboard horde prime’s ship, and the true force of the horde is now on etheria’s doorstep and knows about the heart. This is incredibly bleak. The odds are stacked so much against our heroes that there seems to be no way they can pull out the win. I think ending each season prior to this on a hopeful note was a good decision on the writer’s part because it really hammered home how this moment is truly our heroes’ darkest hour.

I believe this is my favorite season thematically. This is where all of our characters are pushed to the edge and the characters are all forced to come to terms with the darkest parts of themselves and each other. In this season Glimmer becomes increasingly ruthless and her “crippling doubt paired with overwhelming hubris” becomes her fatal flaw. Glimmer, while also fueled by desperation, made the decision to use the heart in part due to her anger at her friends and belief that she can control it which was fueled by her ego. Glimmer’s decision was not selfless. It was understandable, but it was not selfless. It directly mirrored Catra’s decision to open the portal in season 3.  

Glimmer sees the world in a black and white binary where she is firmly in the moral “white” and the ends justify the means to her. Her worldview she leaned so hard into for the first 3 seasons has been shattered and her view of herself within her binary of good and evil has been shattered as well.

This season really dove deep into how destiny doesn’t just effect the chosen one but people from all over. From Glimmer to Catra to Adora to Hordak to Entrapta to Mara. They all struggle with this concept of destiny and some things just being inevitable. Catra and being defined by her past, hordak and being defined by his place in horde prime’s empire, Adora and her power and the manipulations of others, Entrapta and her struggles to connect, Glimmer and her desire for greatness. (I think in a way Glimmer believed she was destined to succeed where Adora had “failed” and defeat the horde through her ends justify the means mentality. Adora wasn’t willing to do what it takes, but she is) [I did a whole meta on all their relationships to destiny here]

Mara is perhaps the most tragic of all because her final moments were spent trying to make sure that Adora didn't fail and fall prey to the destiny forced upon her like she did. That final scene in Hero where Razz places the pie on Mara's seat will never not make me emotional. Mara didn't get to live to see the her life beyond her destiny because she died breaking it.

I connected a lot more with Adora’s arc this season than I did the first time I watched it. I think going into it knowing where her arc is going and coming in straight after season 3 changes my perspective on it quite a bit. It’s a lot more profound of a milestone now. Learning how much she’s struggled with destiny and purpose in the 5th season makes it a lot more touching. “You are more than what you can do for others.” Adora makes the decision to get rid of she-ra, as far as she knows, by breaking the sword which is, per her “destiny”, the only reason she exists in this place, at this time. She was destined to be a deathbringer, a key to a super weapon and yet she decides against it by effectively destroying the very thing that she believes makes her valuable to the people around her.

Adora’s struggled with the idea that everything she’s ever done has been forced upon her by the horde, shadow weaver, light hope, the first ones, etc. and the first decision that she’s made that has in her view been truly her own is this climactic moment that comes at the worst time. Horde prime is at their doorstep, he knows about the weapon, and he has Catra and Glimmer who both know how the super weapon works. Adora, who has been told her whole life her worth comes from what she can do rather than who she is, has just lost her biggest tool/asset for helping others. She gains something with finally making a decision that is truly her own but loses something in she-ra which like Adora says in the season 1 finale if she-ra can’t save everyone “then what good is she (Adora)”. I really liked this because it forces Adora to realize what she’s worth outside of she-ra in the following season and it works perfectly into her arc.